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The Rogues and Vagabonds of Shakespeare's Youth

A Caueat or Warening,

Reading edition

FOR COMMEN CVRSETORS VVLGARELY CALLED

Vagabones, set forth by Thomas Harman, Esquiere, for the utilite and proffyt of his naturall Cuntrey. Augmented and inlarged by the fyrst author here of.

Anno Domini. M.D.LXVII.

Vewed, examined, and allowed, according vnto the Queenes Maiestyes Iniunctions.

caveat cover
caveat cover

Imprinted at London, in Fletestrete, at the signe of the Falcon, by Wylliam Gryffith, and are to be sold at his shoppe in Saynt Dunstones Churche yarde, in the West. Anno Domini. 1567.

[The Bodley edition of 1567 omits 'or Warening' in line 1, and 'Anno Domini. 1567.' at foot; and substitutes 'Newly Augmented and Imprinted' for 'Augmented ... here of', line 6.]

HARMAN. THE EPISTLE.

[leaf 2]

¶ To the ryght honorable and my singular good Lady, Elizabeth Countes of Shrewsbury, Thomas Harman wisheth all ioye and perfite felicitie, here and in the worlde to come.

AS of Auncient and longe tyme there hath bene, and is now at this present, many good, godly, profitable lawes and actes made and setforthe in this most noble and floryshynge realme, for the reliefe, succour, comforte, and sustentacion of the poore, nedy, impotent, and myserable creatures beinge and inhabiting in all parts of the same; So is there (ryghte honorable and myne especyall good Lady) most holsom estatutes, ordinances, and necessary lawes, made, setforth, and publisshed, for the extreme punishement of all vagarantes and sturdy vacabons, as passeth throughe and by all parts of this famous yle, most idelly and wyckedly: and I wel, by good experience, vnderstandinge and consideringe your most tender, pytyfull, gentle, and noble nature,—not onelye hauinge a vygelant and mercifull eye to your poore, indygente, and feable parishnores; yea, not onely in the parishe where your honour moste happely doth dwell, but also in others inuyroninge or nighe adioyning to the same; As also aboundantly powringe out dayely your ardent and bountifull charytie vppon all such as commeth for reliefe vnto your luckly gates,—

I thought it good, necessary, and my bounden dutye, to acquaynte your goodnes with the abhominable, wycked, and detestable behauor of all these rowsey, ragged rabblement of rakehelles, that—vnder the pretence of great misery, dyseases, and other innumerable calamites whiche they fayne—through great hipocrisie do wyn and gayne great almes in all places where they wyly wander, to the vtter deludinge of the good geuers, deceauinge and impouerishing of all such poore housholders, both sicke and sore, as nether can or maye walke abroad for reliefe and comforte (where, in dede, most mercy is to be shewed). And for that I (most honorable Lady), beinge placed as a poore gentleman, haue kepte a house these twenty yeares, where vnto pouerty dayely hath and doth repayre, not without some reliefe, as my poore callinge and habylytie maye and doth extende: I haue of late yeares gathered a great suspition that all should not be well, and, as the prouerbe saythe, "sume thinge lurke and laye hyd that dyd not playnely apeare;" for I, hauinge more occation, throughe sickenes, to tary and remayne at home then I haue bene acustomed, do, by my there abyding, talke [42]and confere dayly with many of these wyly wanderars of both sortes, as well men and wemmen, as boyes and gyrles, by whom I haue [leaf 2, back] gathered and vnderstande their depe dissimulation and detestable dealynge, beinge maruelous suttle and craftye in there kynde, for not one amongst twenty wyll discouer, eyther declare there scelorous secretes: yet with fayre flatteringe wordes, money, and good chere, I haue attained to the typ by such as the meanest of them hath wandred these xiii. yeares, and most xvi. and some twenty and vpward,[43] and not withoute faythfull promesse made vnto them neuer to discouer their names or any thinge they shewed me; for they would all saye, yf the vpright men should vnderstand thereof, they should not be only greuouslye beaten, but put in daunger of their lyues, by the sayd vpright men. There was a fewe yeares since a small bréefe setforth of some zelous man to his countrey, of whom I knowe not, that made a lytle shewe of there names and vsage, and gaue a glymsinge lyghte, not sufficient to perswade of their peuishe peltinge and pickinge[44] practyses, but well worthy of prayse. But (good madame), with nolesse trauell then good wyll, I haue repayred and rygged the Shyp of knowledge, and haue hoyssed vp the sayles of good fortune, that she maye safely passe aboute and through all partes of this noble realme, and there make porte sale of her wyshed wares, to the confusion of their drowsey demener and vnlawfull language, pylfring pycking, wily wanderinge, and lykinge lechery, of all these rablement of rascales that raunges about al the costes of the same, So that their vndecent, dolefull dealing and execrable exercyses may apere to all as it were in a glasse, that therby the Iusticers and Shréeues may in their circutes be more vygelant to punishe these malefactores, and the Counstables, Bayliffes, and bosholders,[45] settinge asyde all feare, slouth, and pytie, may be more circomspect in executing the charg geuen them by the aforesayd Iusticers. Then wyll no more this rascall rablement raunge about the countrey. Then greater reliefe may be shewed to the pouerty of eche parishe. Then shall we kepe our Horses in our pastures vnstolen. Then our lynnen clothes shall and maye lye safelye one our hedges vntouched. Then shall we not haue our clothes and lynnen hoked out at our wyndowes as well by day as by night. Then shall we not haue our houses broken vp in the night, as of late one of my nyghtbors had and two great buckes of clothes stolen out, and most of the same fyne Lynnen. Then shall we safely kepe our pigges and poultrey from pylfring. Then shall we surely passe by [46]the hygh waies leading to markets and fayres vnharmed. Then shall our Shopes and bothes be vnpycked and spoyled. Then shall these vncomly companies be dispersed and set to labour for their lyuinge, or hastely hang for [leaf 3] their demerites. Then shall it incourrage a great number of gentle men and others, seing this securitie, to set vp houses and kepe hospitalytie in the countrey, to the comfort of their nighboures, releife of the poore, and to the amendement of the common welth. Then shall not sinne and wickednes so much abound among vs. Then wil gods wrath be much the more pacified towards vs. Then shall we not tast of so many and sondry plages, as now dayely raigneth ouer vs. And then shall this Famous Empyre be in more welth and better florysh, to the inestymable ioye and comfort of the Quenes most excelent maiestye, whom god of his infinyte goodnes, to his great glory, long and many yeares make most prosperously to raygne ouer vs, to the great Felycitye of all the Peres and Nobles, and to the vnspeakable ioye, releife, and quietnes of minde, of all her faythfull Commons and Subiectes. Now, me thinketh, I se how these peuysh, peruerse, and pestilent people begyn to freat, fume, sweare, and stare at this my booke, their lyfe being layd open and aparantly paynted out, that their confusion and end draweth one a pase. Where as in dede, if it be well waied, it is set forth for their synguler profyt and commoditie, for the sure safegard of their lyues here in this world, that they shorten not the same before[47] their time, and that by their true labour and good lyfe, in the world to com they may saue their Soules, that Christ, the second person in [the] Trinytie, hath so derely bought with his most precious bloud: so that hereby I shall do them more good then they could haue deuised for them selues. For behold, their lyfe being so manyfest wycked and so aparantlye knowen, The honorable wyl abhore them, The worshipfull wyll reiecte them, The yemen wyll sharpely tawnte them, The Husband men vtterly defye them, The laboryng men bluntly chyde them, The wemen with a loud exclamation[48] wonder at them, And all Children with clappinge handes crye out at them. I manye times musing with my selfe at these mischeuous misliuers, merueled when they toke their oryginall and beginning; how long they haue exercised their execrable wandring about. I thought it méete to confer with a very old man that I was well acquaynted with, whose wyt and memory is meruelous for his yeares, beinge about the age of fourescore, what he knewe when he was yonge of these lousey leuterars. And he shewed me, that when he was yonge he wayted vpon a man of much worshyp in Kent, who died immediatly after the last Duke of Buckingham was beheaded: at his buryall there was such a number of beggers, besides poore housholders dwelling there abouts, that vnneth they mighte lye or stande aboute the House: then was there [leaf 3, back] prepared for them a great and a large barne, and a great fat oxe sod out in Furmenty for them, with bread and drinke aboundantly to furnesh out the premisses; and euery person had two pence, for such was the dole. When Night approched, the pore housholders repaired home to their houses: the other wayfaring bold beggers remained alnight in the barne; and the same barne being serched with light in the night by this old man (and then yonge), with[49] others, they tolde seuen score persons of men, euery of them hauing his woman, except it were two wemen that lay alone to gether for some especyall cause. Thus hauing their makes to make mery withall, the buriall was turned to bousing and belly chere, morning to myrth, fasting to feasting, prayer to pastyme and pressing of papes, and lamenting to Lechery. So that it may apere this vncomly company hath had a long continuance, but then nothinge geuen so much to pylferinge, pyckinge, and spoyling; and, as far as I can learne or vnderstand by the examination of a number of them, their languag—which they terme peddelars Frenche or Canting—began but within these xxx. yeeres,[50] lytle aboue; and that the first inuenter therof was hanged, all saue the head; for that is the fynall end of them all, or els to dye of some filthy and horyble diseases: but much harme is don in the meane space by their continuance, as some x., xii., and xvi. yeares before they be consumed, and the number of them doth dayly renew. I hope their synne is now at the hyghest; and that as short and as spedy a redresse wylbe for these, as hath bene of late yeres for the wretched, wily, wandering vagabonds calling and naming them selues Egiptians, depely dissembling and long hyding and couering their depe, decetfull practises,—feding the rude common people, wholy addicted and geuen to nouelties, toyes, and new inuentions,—delyting them with the strangenes of the attyre of their heades, and practising paulmistrie to such as would know their fortunes: And, to be short, all theues and hores (as I may well wryt),—as some haue had true experience, a number can well wytnes, and a great sorte hath well felte it. And now (thankes bée to god), throughe wholsome lawes, and the due execution thereof, all be dispersed, banished,[51] and the memory of them cleane extynguished; that when they bée once named here after, our Chyldren wyll muche meruell what kynd of people they were: and so, I trust, shal shortly happen of these. For what thinge doth chiefely cause these rowsey rakehelles thus to continue and dayly increase? Surely a number of wicked parsons that kéepe typlinge Houses in all shires, where they haue succour and reliefe; and what so euer they bring, they are sure to receaue money for [leaf 4] the same, for they sell good penyworthes. The byers haue the greatest gayne; yea, yf they haue nether money nor ware, they wylbe trusted; their credite is much. I haue taken a note of a good many of them, and wil send their names and dwelling-places to such Iusticers as dwelleth nere or next vnto them, that they by their good wisdomes may displace the same, and auctoryse such as haue honesty. I wyl not blot my boke with their names, because they be resident. But as for this fletinge Fellowshyp, I haue truly setforth the most part of them that be doers at this present, with their names that they be knowene by. Also, I haue placed in the end therof their leud language, calling the same pedlers French or Canting. And now shal I end my prologue, makinge true declaration (right honorable Lady) as they shal fall in order of their vntymelye tryfelinge time, leud lyfe, and pernitious practises, trusting that the same shall neyther trouble or abash your most tender, tymerous, and pytifull Nature, to thinke the smal mede should growe vnto you for such Almes so geuen. For god, our marcifull and most louing father, well knoweth your hartes and good intent,—the geuer neuer wanteth his reward, according to the sayinge of Saynt Augustyn: as there is (neyther shalbe) any synne vnpunished, euen so shall there not be eny good dede vnrewarded. But how comfortably speaketh Christ our Sauiour vnto vs in his gospel ("geue ye, and it shalbe geuen you againe"): behold farther, good Madam, that for a cup of colde water, Christ hath promised a good reward. Now saynt Austen properly declareth why Christ speaketh of colde water, because the poorest man that is shall not excuse him selfe from that cherytable warke, least he would, parauenture, saye that he hath neyther wood, pot, nor pan to warme any water with. Se, farther, what god speaketh in the mouth of his prophet, Esaye, "breake thy bread to him that is a hongred;" he sayth not geue him a hole lofe, for paraduenture the poore man hath it not to geue, then let him geue a pece. This much is sayd because the poore that hath it should not be excused: now how much more then the riche? Thus you se, good

madam, for your treasure here dispersed, where nede and lacke is, it shalbe heaped vp aboundantly for you in heauen, where neither rust or moth shall corupt or destroy the same. Vnto which tryumphant place, after many good, happy, and fortunat yeres prosperouslye here dispended. you maye for euer and euer there most ioyfully remayne. A men.

¶¶ FINIS

Thre things to be noted A staff, a béesom, and all in their kynde wyth, that wyll wynde

a béesom
a béesom

¶ A béesome of byrche, for babes very feete,[52] A longe lastinge lybbet for loubbers as méete A wyth to wynde vp, that these wyll not kéepe Bynde all up in one, and vse it to swéepe

A béesome
A béesome

[This page is printed at the back of the title page in Bodley edition.]

HARMAN. TO THE READER.

[leaf 5]

¶ THE EPISTLE TO THE READER.

AL though, good Reader, I wright in plain termes—and not so playnly as truely—concerning the matter, meaning honestly to all men, and wyshe them as much good as to myne owne harte; yet, as there hathe bene, so there is nowe, and hereafter wylbe, curyous heds to finde fauttes: wherefore I thought it necessary, now at this seconde Impression, to acquaynt the with a great faulte, as some takethe it, but none[53] as I meane it, callinge these Vagabonds Cursetors in the intytelynge of my booke, as runneres or rangers aboute the countrey, deriued of this Laten word (Curro): neither do I wryght it Cooresetores, with a duble[54] oo; or Cowresetors, with a w, which hath an other singnification: is there no deuersite betwen a gardein and a garden, maynteynaunce and maintenance, Streytes and stretes? those that haue vnderstanding knowe there is a great dyfference: who is so ignorant by these dayes as knoweth not the meaning of a vagabone? and yf an ydell leuterar should be so called of eny man, would not he think it bothe odyous and reprochefull? wyll he not shonne the name? ye, and where as he maye and dare, with bent browes, wyll reueng that name of Ingnomy: yet this playne name vagabone is deryued, as others be, of Laten wordes, and now vse makes it commen to al men; but let vs loke back four .C. yeres sithens, and let vs se whether this playn word vagabon was vsed or no. I beleue not, and why? because I rede of no such name in the old estatutes of this realme, vnles it be in the margente of the booke, or in the Table, which in the collection and pryntinge was set in; but these were then the commen names of these leud leuterars, Faytores, Robardesmen, Drawlatches, and valyant beggares. Yf I should haue vsed suche wordes, or the same order of wryting, as this realme vsed in Kynge Henry the thyrd or Edward the fyrstes tyme, oh, what a grose, barberous fellow [leaf 5, back] haue we here! his wryting is both homely and darke, that wee had nede to haue an interpretar: yet then it was verye well, and in short season a great change we see. well, this delycat age shall haue his tyme on the other syde. Eloquence haue I none; I neuer was acquaynted with the muses; I neuer tasted of Helycon. But accordinge to my playne order, I haue setforth this worke, symplye and truelye, with such vsual words and termes as is among vs wel known and frequented. So that as the prouerbe saythe, "all though truth be blamed, it shal neuer be shamed." well, good reader, I meane not to be tedyous vnto the, but haue added fyue or sixe more tales, because some of them weare donn whyle my booke was fyrste in the presse; and as I truste I haue deserued no rebuke for my good wyll, euen so I desyre no prayse for my payne, cost, and trauell. But faithfullye for the proffyt and benyfyt of my countrey I haue don it, that the whole body of the Realme may se and vnderstand their leud lyfe and pernitious practisses, that all maye spedelye helpe to amend that is amysse. Amen saye all with me.

Finis

HARMAN. A RUFFLER.

[leaf 6]

¶ A RUFFLER. Ca. 1.[55]

THE Rufflar, because he is first in degre of this odious order: And is so called in a statute made for the punishment of Vacabonds, In the xxvij. yeare of Kyng Henry the eight, late of most famous memory: Hée shall be first placed, as the worthiest of this vnruly rablement. And he is so called when he goeth first abroad; eyther he hath serued in the warres, or els he hath bene a seruinge man; and, weary of well doing, shakinge of all payne, doth chuse him this ydle lyfe, and wretchedly wanders aboute the most shyres of this realme. And with stout audacyte,[56] demaundeth where he thinketh hée maye be bolde, and circomspecte ynough, as he sethe cause to aske charitie, rufully and lamentably, that it would make a flyntey hart to relent, and pytie his miserable estate, howe he hath bene maymed and broused in the warres; and, parauenture, some wyll shew you some outward wounde, whiche he gotte at some dronken fraye, eyther haltinge of some preuye wounde festred with a fylthy firy flankard. For be well assured that the hardist souldiers be eyther slayne or maymed, eyther and[57] they escape all hassardes, and retourne home agayne, if they bée without reliefe of their friends, they wyl surely desperatly robbe and steale, and[58] eyther shortlye be hanged or miserably dye in pryson; for they be so much ashamed and disdayne to beg or aske charity, that rather they wyll as desperatlye fight for to lyue and mayntayne them selues, as manfully and valyantly they ventred them selues in the Prynces quarell. Now these Rufflars, the out castes of seruing men, when begginge or crauinge fayles, then they pycke and pylfer, from other inferiour beggeres that they méete by the waye, as Roages, Pallyardes, Mortes, and Doxes. Yea, if they méete with a woman alone ridinge to the market, eyther olde man or boye, that hée well knoweth wyll not resiste, such they filche and spoyle. These rufflars, after a yeare or two at the farthest, become vpryght men, vnlesse they be preuented by twind hempe.

{ I had of late yeares an old man to my tennant, who customably a greate tyme went twise in the wéeke to London, eyther wyth fruite or with pescodes, when tyme serued therefore. And as he was comminge homewarde on blacke heathe, at the end thereof next to shotars hyl, he ouer tooke two rufflars, the one manerly wayting on the other, as one had ben the maister, and the other the man or seruant, [leaf 6, back] caryinge his maisteres cloke. this olde man was verye glad that hee might haue their company ouer the hyl, because that day he had made a good market; for hée had seuen shyllinges in his purse, and a nolde angell, which this poore man had thought had not bene in his purse, for hée wylled his wyfe ouer night to take out the same angell, and laye it vp vntyll his comminge home agayne. And he verely thought that his wyfe had so don, whiche in dede for got to do it. Thus after salutations had, this maister rufflar entered into communication with this simple olde man, who, ridinge softlye beside them, commoned of many matters. Thus fedinge this old man with pleasaunt talke, vntyll they weare one the toppe of the hyll, where these rufflares might well beholde the coaste about them cleare, Quiclye stepes vnto this poore man, and taketh holde of his horse brydell, and leadeth him in to the wode, and demaundeth of him what and how much money he had in his purse. "Now, by my troth," quoth this old man; "you are a merrye gentle man. I knowe you meane not to take a waye anye thinge from me, but rather to geue me some if I shoulde aske it of you." By and by, this seruant thiefe casteth the cloke that he caried on his arme about this poore mans face, that he should not marke or vew them, with sharpe words to delyuer quicly that he had, and to confesse truly what was in his purse. This poore man, then all abashed, yelded, and confessed that he had but iust seuen shyllinges in his purse; and the trouth is he knew of no more. This old angell was falen out of a lytle purse into the botome of a great purse. Now, this seuen shyllings in whyte money they quickly founde, thinkinge in dede that there had bene no more; yet farther groping and searchinge, found this old angell. And with great admiration, this gentleman thyefe begane to blesse hym, sayinge, "good lorde, what a worlde is this! howe maye" (quoth hée) "a man beleue or HARMAN. A VPRIGHT MAN.truste in the same? se you not" (quoth he) "this old knaue tolde me that he had but seuen shyllings, and here is more by an angell: what an old knaue and a false knaue haue we here!" quoth this rufflar; "oure lorde haue mercy on vs, wyll this worlde neuer be better?"—and there with went their waye. And lefte the olde man in the wood, doinge him no more harme. But sorowfully sighinge, this olde man, returning home, declared his misaduenture, with all the words and circumstaunces aboue shewed. Wherat, for the tyme was great laughing, and this poore man for his losses among his louing neighboures well considered in the end.

¶ A VPRIGHT MAN. Ca. 2.

[leaf 7]

A Vpright[59] man, the second in secte of this vnsemely sorte, must be next placed, of these rainginge rablement of rascales; some be seruing men, artificers, and laboryng men traded vp in husbandry. These not mindinge to get their lyuinge with the swete of their face, but casting of all payne, wyll wander, after their wycked maner, through the most shyres of this realm,—

{ As Sommerset shyre, Wylshire, Barke shyre, Oxforde shyre, Harfordeshyre, Myddilsex, Essex, Suffolke, Northfolke, Sussex, Surrye, and Kent, as the cheyfe and best shyres of reliefe. Yea, not with out punishment by stockes, whyppinges, and imprisonment, in most of these places aboue sayde. Yet, not with standinge they haue so good lykinge in their lewed, lecherous loyteringe, that full quiclye all their punishmentes is[60] for gotten. And repentaunce is neuer thought vpon vntyll they clyme thrée tres with a ladder. These vnrewly rascales, in their roylynge, disperse them selues into seuerall companyes, as occation serueth, sometyme more and somtyme lesse. As, if they repayre to a poore husbandmans house, hée wyll go a lone, or one with him, and stoutely demaund his charytie, eyther shewing how he hath serued in the warres, and their maymed, eyther that he sekethe seruice, and saythe that he woulde be glad to take payne for hys lyuinge, althoughe he meaneth nothinge lesse. Yf he be offered any meate or drynke, he vtterlye refusethe scornefully, and wyll nought but money; and yf he espye yong pyges or pultry, he well noteth the place, and they the next night, or shortly after, hée wyll be sure to haue some of them, whyche they brynge to their stawlinge kens, which is their typplyng houses, as well knowen to them, according to the olde prouerbe, "as the begger knowes his dishe." For you must vnderstand, euery Typplyng ale house wyll neyther receiue them or their wares, but some certayne houses in euery shyre, especially for that purpose, where they shalbe better welcome to them then honester men. For by such haue they most gayne, and shalbe conuayde eyther into some loft out of the waye, or other secret corner not commen to any other; and thether repayre, at accustomed tymes, their harlots, whiche they terme Mortes and Doxes,—not with emty hands; for they be as skilfull in picking, riffling, and filching as the vpright men, and nothing inferior to them in all kind of wyckednes, as in other places hereafter they shalbe touched. At these foresayde peltinge, peuish places and vnmannerly metinges, O! how the pottes walke about! their talking tounges talke at large. They bowle and bowse one to another, and for the tyme bousing belly chere. And after there ruysting recreation, [leaf 7, back] yf there be not rome ynough in the house, they haue cleane strawe in some barne or backehouse nere adioyning, where they couch comly to gether, and[61] it were dogge and byche; and he that is hardyste maye haue his choyse, vnlesse for a lytle good maner; some wyll take there owne that they haue made promyse vnto, vntyll they be out of sight, and then, according to the old adage, "out of minde." Yet these vpright men stand so much vpon their reputation, as they wyl in no case haue their wemen walke with them, but seperat them selues for a tyme, a moneth or more. And mete at fayres, or great markets, where they mete to pylfer and steale from staules, shoppes, or bothes. At these fayres the vpryght men vse commonly to lye and lingar in hye wayes by lanes, some prety way or distaunce from the place, by which wayes they be assured that compeny passeth styll two and fro. And ther they[62] wyll demaund, with cap in hand and comly curtesy, the deuotion and charity of the people. They haue ben much lately whipped at fayrs. Yf they aske at a stout yemans or farmars house his charity, they wyll goe strong as thre or foure in a company. Where for feare more then good wyll, they often haue reliefe. they syldome or neuer passe by a Iustices house, but haue by wayes, vnlesse he dwell alone, and but weakely manned; thether wyll they also go strong, after a slye, suttle sorte, as with their armes bounde vp with kercher or lyste, hauinge wrapte about the same filthy clothes, either their legges in such maner bewrapped halting down right. Not vnprouided of good codg[e]ls, which they cary to sustayne them, and, as they fayne, to kéepe gogges[63] from them, when they come to such good gentlemens houses. Yf any searche be made or they suspected for pylfring clothes of hedgges, or breaking of houses, which they commonly do when the owners bée eyther at the market, church, or other wayes occupyed aboute their busines,—eyther robbe some sely man or woman by the hye waye, as many tymes they do,—Then they hygh them into wodes, great thickets, and other ruffe corners, where they lye lurkinge thre or foure dayes to gether, and haue meate and drinke brought them by theyre Mortes, and Doxes; and whyle they thus lye hydden in couert, in the night they be not idle,—nether, as the common saying is, "well occupyed;" for then, as the wyly foxe, crepinge out of his den, seketh his praye for pultery, so do these for lynnen and any thinge els worth money, that lyeth about or near a house. As somtyme a whole bucke of clothes caryed awaye at a tyme. When they haue a greatter booty then they maye cary awaye quickly to their stawling kendes, as is aboue sayd, They wyll hyde the same for a thre dayes in some thicke couert, and [leaf 8] in the night time carye the same, lyke good water Spanlles, to their foresayd houses. To whom they wyll discouer where or in what places they had the same, where the markes shalbe pycked out cleane, and conuayed craftely fare of, to sell. If the man or woman of the house want money them selues. [64]If these vpright men haue nether money nor wares, at these houses they shalbe trusted for their vitales, and it amount to twentye or thirty shyllings. Yea, if it fortune any of these vpright men to be taken, either suspected, or charged with fellony or petye brybrye, don at such a tyme or such a place, he wyll saye he was in his hostes house. And if the man or wyfe of that house be examined by an officer, they boldelye vouche, that the[y] lodged him suche a tyme, whereby the truth cannot appeare. And if they chaunce to be retained into seruice, through their lamentable words, with any welthy man, They wyll tary but a smale tyme, either robbing his maister or som of his fellowes. And some of them vseth this polocye, that although they trauayle into al these shyres, aboue said, yet wyl they haue good credite, espiciallye in one shyre, where at diuers good farmars houses they be wel knowen, where they worke a moneth in a place or more, and wyll for that time behaue them selues very honestly and paynfully; And maye at any tyme, for their good vsage, haue worke of them; and to these at a ded lyft, or last refuge, they maye safely repayre vnto and be welcom, When in other places, for a knacke of knauery that they haue playd, thei dare not tary. These vyright men wil sildom or neuer want; for what is gotten by anye Mort, or Doxe, if it please him, hée doth comaunde the same. And if he mete any begger, whether he be sturdye or impotent, he wyll demaund of him, whether euer he was stalled to the roge or no. If he saye he was, he wyll know of whom, and his name that stalled hym. And if he be not learnedly able to shewe him the whole circumstaunce thereof, he wyll spoyle him of his money, either of his best garment, if it be worth any money, and haue him to the bowsing ken, Which is to some typpling house next adioyninge; and laieth their to gage the best thing that he hath for twenty pence or two shyllinges: this man obeyeth for feare of beating. Then doth this vpright man call for a gage of bowse, whiche is a quarte pot of drinke, and powres the same vpon his peld pate, adding these words:—"I. G. P. do stalle thée W. T. to the Roge, and that from hence forth it shall be lawefull for the to Cant"—that is, to aske or begge—"for thy liuing in al places." Here you se that the vpright man is of great auctorite. For all sortes of beggers are obedient to his hests, and surmounteth all others in pylfring and stealinge. ¶ I lately had standinge in my [leaf 8, back] well house, which standeth on the backeside of my house, a great cawdron of copper, beinge then full of water, hauinge in the same halfe a doson of pewter dyshes, HARMAN. A HOKER, OR ANGGLEAR.well marked, and stamped with the connizance of my armes, whiche being well noted when they were taken out, were set a side, the water powred out, and my caudren taken awaye, being of such bygnes that one man, vnlesse he were of great strength, was not able far to cary the same. Not withstandinge, the same was one night within this two yeares conuayed more then half a myle from my house, into a commen or heth, And ther bestowed in a great firbushe. I then immediatly the next day sent one of my men to London, and there gaue warning in Sothwarke, kent strete, and Barmesey stréete, to all the Tynckars there dwelling,—That if any such Caudron came thether to be sold, the bringar therof should be stayed, and promised twenty shyllings for a reward. I gaue also intelligence to the water men that kept the ferres, that no such vessel should be ether conuayd to London or into essex, promysing the lyke reward, to haue vnderstanding therof. This my doing was well vnderstand in many places about, and that the feare of espyinge so troubled the conscience of the stealer, that my caudoren laye vntouched in the thicke firbushe more then halfe a yeare after, which, by a great chaunce, was found by hunteres for conneys; for one chaunced to runne into the same bushe where my caudren was, and being perceaued, one thrust his staffe into the same bushe, and hyt my caudren a great blowe, the sound whereof dyd cause the man to thinke and hope that there was some great treasure hidden, wherby he thought to be the better whyle he lyued. And in farther searching he found my caudren; so had I the same agayne vnloked for.

¶ A HOKER, OR ANGGLEAR. Cap. 3.

THese hokers, or Angglers, be peryllous and most wicked knaues, and be deryued or procede forth from the vpright men; they commenly go in frese ierkynes and gally slopes, poynted benethe the kne; these when they practise there pylfringe, it is all by night; for, as they walke a day times from house to house, to demaund charite, they vigelantly marke where or in what place they maye attayne to there praye, casting there eyes vp to euery wyndow, well noting what they se their, whether apparell or linnen, hanginge nere vnto the sayde wyndowes, and that wyll they be sure to haue the next night folowing; HARMAN. A HOKER. A ROGE. they customably carry with them a staffe of v. or vi. foote long, in which, within one ynch of the tope therof, ys a lytle hole bored through, [leaf 9] in which hole they putte an yron hoke, and with the same they wyll pluck vnto them quickly any thing that they may reche ther with, which hoke in the day tyme they couertly cary about them, and is neuer sene or taken out till they come to the place where they worke there fete: such haue I sene at my house, and haue oft talked with them and haue handled ther staues, not then vnderstanding to what vse or intent they serued, although I hadde and perceiued, by there talke and behauiour, great lykelyhode of euyll suspition in them: they wyl ether leane vppon there staffe, to hyde the hole thereof, when they talke with you, or holde their hande vpon the hole; and what stuffe, either wollen or lynnen, they thus hoke out, they neuer carye the same forth with to their staulyng kens, but hides the same a iij. daies in some secret corner, and after conuayes the same to their houses abouesaid, where their host or hostys geueth them money for the same, but halfe the value that it is worth, or els their doxes shall a farre of sell the same at the like houses. I was credebly informed that a hoker came to a farmers house in the ded of the night, and putting back a drawe window of a low chamber, the bed standing hard by the sayd wyndow, in which laye three parsones (a man and two bygge boyes), this hoker with his staffe plucked of their garments which lay vpon them to kepe them warme, with the couerlet and shete, and lefte them lying a slepe naked sauing there shertes, and had a way all clene, and neuer could vnderstande where it became. I verely suppose that when they wer wel waked with cold, they suerly thought that Robin goodfelow (accordinge to the old saying) had bene with them that night.

¶ A ROGE. Cap. 4.

A Roge is neither so stoute or hardy as the vpright man. Many of them will go fayntly and looke piteously when they sée, either méete any person, hauing a kercher, as white as my shooes, tyed about their head, with a short staffe in their hand, haltinge, although they nede not, requiring almes of such as they méete, HARMAN. A ROGE.or to what house they shal com. But you may easely perceiue by their colour that thei cary both health and hipocrisie about them, wherby they get gaine, when others want that cannot fayne and dissemble. Others therebee that walke sturdely about the countrey, and faineth to seke a brother or kinsman of his, dwelling within som part of the shire;—ether that he hath a letter to deliuer to som honest housholder, dwelling out of an other Shyre, and will shewe you the same fayre sealed, with the superscription to [leaf 9, back] the partye he speaketh of, because you shall not thinke him to runne idelly about the countrey;—either haue they this shyfte, they wyll cary a cirtificate or pasport about them from som Iusticer of the peace, with his hand and seale vnto the same, howe hée hath bene whipped and punished for a vacabonde according to the lawes of this realme, and that he muste returne to .T., where he was borne or last dwelt, by a certayne daye lymited in the same, whiche shalbe a good longe daye. And all this fayned, bycause without feare they woulde wyckedly wander, and wyll renue the same where or when it pleasethe them; for they haue of their affinity that can wryte and read. These also wyll picke and steale as the vpright men, and hath their women and metinges at places apoynted, and nothinge to them inferiour in all kynde of knauery. There bée of these Roges Curtales, wearinge shorte clokes, that wyll chaunge their aparell, as occation seruethe. And their end is eyther hanginge, whiche they call trininge in their language, or die miserably of the pockes.

¶ There was not long sithens two Roges that alwaies did associate them selues together, and would neuer seperat them selues, vnles it were for some especiall causes, for they were sworn brothers, and were both of one age, and much like of favour: these two, trauelinge into east kent, resorted vnto an ale house there,[65] being weried with traueling, saluting with short curtisey, when they came into the house, such as thei sawe sitting there, in whiche company was the parson of the parish; and callinge for a pot of the best ale, sat downe at the tables ende: the lykor liked them so well, that they had pot vpon pot, and sometyme, for a lytle good maner, would drinke and offer the cup to such as they best fancied; and to be short, they sat out al the company, for eche man departed home aboute their busines. When they had well refreshed them selues, then these rowsy roges requested the good man of the house wyth his wyfe to sit downe and drinke with them, of whome they inquired what priest the same was, and where he dwelt: then they fayninge that they had an vncle a priest, and that he should dwel in these partes, which by all presumptions it should be he, and that they came of purpose to speake with hym, but because they had not sene hym sithens they were sixe yeares olde, they durst not be bold to take acquayntance of him vntyl they were farther instructed of the truth, and began to inquier of his name, and how longe he had dwelt there, and how farre his house was of from the place they were in: the good wyfe of the house, thynkinge them honest men without disceit, because they so farre enquyred of their kinseman, was but of a good zelous naturall intent, shewed them cherefully that hee [leaf 10] was an honest man and welbeloued in the parish, and of good welth, and had ben there resident xv. years at the least; "but," saith she, "are you both brothers?" "yea, surely," said they, "we haue bene both in one belly, and were twinnes." "Mercy, god!" quoth this folish woman; "it may wel be, for ye be not much vnlike,"—and wente vnto her hall windowe, callinge these yong men vnto her, and loking out therat,[66] pointed with her fingar and shewed them the house standing alone, no house nere the same by almoste a quarter of a myle; "that," sayd[67] she, "is your vncles house." "Nay," saith one of them, "he is not onely my vncle, but also my godfather." "It may well be," quoth she, "nature wyll bind him to be the better vnto you." "Well," quoth they, "we be weary, and meane not to trouble our vncle to-night; but to-morowe, god willinge, we wyll sée him and do our duty: but, I pray you, doth our vncle occupy husbandry? what company hath he in his house." "Alas!" saith she, "but one old woman and a boy, he hath no occupying at al: tushe," quoth this good wyfe, "you be mad men; go to him this night, for hée hath better lodging for you then I haue, and yet I speake folishly against my[68] own profit, for by your taring[69] here I should gaine the more by you." "Now, by my troth," quoth one of them, "we thanke you, good hostes, for your holsome councell, and we meane to do as you wyll vs: we wyl pause a whyle, and by that tyme it wylbe almost night; and I praye you geue vs a reckeninge,"—so, manerly paying for that they toke, bad their hoste and hostes farewell with takinge leaue of the cup, marched merelye out of the dores towardes this parsones house, vewed the same well rounde about, and passed by two bowshotes of into a younge wodde, where they laye consultinge what they shoulde do vntyll midnight. Quoth one of them, of sharper wyt and subtyller then the other, to hys fellowe, "thou seest that this house is stone walled about, and that we cannot well breake in, in any parte thereof; thou seest also that the windowes be thicke of mullions, that ther is no kreping in betwene: wherefore we must of necessytie vse some policye when strength wil not serue. I haue a horse locke here about me," saith he; "and this I hope shall serue oure turne." So when it was aboute xii. of the clocke, they came to the house and lurked nere vnto his chamber wyndowe: the dog of the house barked a good, that with they[70] noise, this priest waketh out of his sléepe, and began to cough and hem: then one of these roges stepes forth nerer the window and maketh a ruful and pityful noise, requiring for Christ sake[71] some reliefe, that was both hongry and thirstye, and was like to ly with out the dores all nighte and starue for colde, vnles he were releued by him with some small pece of money. "Where dwellest thou?" quoth this parson. "Alas! sir," saithe this roge, "I haue smal [leaf 10, back] dwelling, and haue com out of my way; and I should now," saith he, "go to any towne nowe at this time of night, they woulde set me in the stockes and punishe me." "Well," quoth this pitifull parson, "away from my house, either lye in some of my out houses vntyll the morning, and holde, here is a couple of pence for thée." "A god rewarde you," quoth this roge; "and in heauen may you finde it." The parson openeth his wyndowe, and thrusteth out his arme to geue his almes to this Roge that came whining to receiue it, and quickly taketh holde of his hand, and calleth his fellowe to him, whiche was redye at hande with the horse locke, and clappeth the same about the wrest of his arme, that the mullions standing so close together for strength, that for his life he could not plucke in his arme againe, and made him beleue, vnles he would at the least geue them .iii. li., they woulde smite of his arme from the body. So that this poore parson, in feare to lose his hand, called vp his olde woman that lay in the loft ouer him, and wylled her to take out all the money he had, which was iiij. markes, which he saide was all the money in his house, for he had lent vi. li. to one of his neighbours not iiij daies before. "Wel," quoth they, "master parson, if you haue no more, vpon this condicion we wil take of the locke, that you will drinke .xij. pence for our sakes to-morow at the alehouse wher we found you, and thank the good wife for the good chere she made vs." He promised faithfully that he would so do; so they toke of the locke, and went their way so farre ere it was daye, that the parson coulde neuer haue any vnderstanding more of them. Now this parson, sorowfully slumbering that night betwene feare and hope, thought it was but folly to make two sorrowes of one; he vsed contentacion for his remedy, not forgetting in the morning to performe his promise, but went betims to his neighbour that kept tiplinge, and asked angerly where the same two men were that dranke with her yester daye. "Which two men?" quoth this good wife. "The straungers that came in when I was at your house wyth my neighbores yesterday." "What! your neuewes?" quoth she, "My neuewes?" quoth this parson; "I trowe thou art mad." "Nay, by god!" quoth this good[72] wife, "as sober as you; for they tolde me faithfully that you were their vncle: but, in fayth, are you not so in dede? for, by my trouth, they are strau[n]gers to me. I neuer saw them before." "O, out vpon them!" quoth the parson; "they be false theues, and this night thei compelled me to geue them al the money in my house." "Benedicite!" quoth this good wife, "and haue they so in dede? as I shall aunswere before god, one of them told me besides that you were godfather to him, and that he trusted to haue your blessinge before he departed." "What! did he?" quoth this parson; "a halter blesse him for [leaf 11] me!" "Me thinketh, by the masse, by your countenance you loked so wildly when you came in," quoth this good wife, "that somthing was amis." "I vse not to gest," quoth HARMAN. A WYLDE ROGE.this parson, "when I speake so earnestly." "Why, all your sorrowes goe with it," quoth this good wife, "and sitte downe here, and I will fil a freshe pot of ale shall make you mery agayne." "Yea," saith this parson, "fill in, and geue me some meat; for they made me sweare and promise them faithfully that I shoulde drinke xii. pence with you this day." "What! dyd they?" quoth she; "now, by the mary masse, they be mery knaues. I warraunt you they meane to bye no land with your money; but how could they come into you in the night, your dores being shut fast? your house is very stronge." Then this prason[73] shewed her all the hole circumstance, how he gaue them his almes oute at the wyndowe, they[74] made such lamentable crye that it pytied him at the hart; for he sawe but one when he put oute his hand at the wyndowe. "Be ruled by me," quoth this good wyfe. "Wherin?" quoth this parson. "By my troth, neuer speake more of it: when they shal vnderstand of it in the parish, they wyll but laugh you to skorne." [75]"Why, then," quoth this parson, "the deuyll goe with it,"—and their an end.[75]

¶ A WYLDE ROGE. Cap. 5.

A Wilde Roge is he that is borne a Roge: he is a more subtil and more geuen by nature to all kinde of knauery then the other, as beastely begotten in barne or bushes, and from his infancye traded vp in trechery; yea, and before ripenes of yeares doth permyt, wallowinge in lewde lechery, but that is counted amongest them no sin. For this is their custome, that when they mete in barne at night, euery one getteth a make[76] to lye wythall, and their chaunce to be twentye in a companye, as their is sometyme more and sometyme lesse: for to one man that goeth abroad, there are at the least two women, which neuer make it straunge when they be called, although she neuer knewe him before. Then when the day doth appeare, he rouses him vp, and shakes his eares, and awaye wanderinge where he may gette oughte to the hurte of others. Yet before he skyppeth oute of hys couche and departeth from his darling, if he like her well, he will apoint her where to mete shortlye after, with HARMAN. A PRYGGER OF PRAUNCERS.a warninge to worke warely for some chetes, that their meting might be the merier.

¶ Not long sithens, a wild roge chaunced to mete a pore neighbour of mine, who for honesty and good natur surmounteth many. This poore man, riding homeward from London, where he had made his market, this [leaf 11, back] roge demaunded a peny for gods sake, to kepe him a true man. This simple man, beholding him wel, and sawe he was of taule personage with a good quarter staffe in his hand, it much pitied him, as he sayd, to se him want; for he was well able to serue his prince in the wars. Thus, being moued with pytie, and[77] loked in his pursse to finde out a penye; and in loking for the same, he plucked oute viii. shyllinges in whyte money, and raked therin to finde a single peny; and at the last findinge one, doth offer the same to this wylde roge: but he, seinge so much mony in this simple mans hand, being striken to the hart with a couetous desire, bid him forth wyth delyuer al that he had, or els he woulde with his staffe beat out his braynes. For it was not a penye would now quench his thirst, [78]seing so much as he dyd[78]: thus, swallowinge his spittell gredely downe, spoyled this poore man of al the money that he had, and lept ouer the hedge into a thicke wode, and went his waye as merely as this good simple man came home sorowfully. I once rebuking a wyld roge because he went idelly about, he shewed me that he was a begger by enheritance—his Grandfather was a begger, his father was one, and he must nedes be one by good reason.

¶ A PRYGGER OF PRAUNCERS. Cap. 6.

A Prigger of Prauncers be horse stealers; for to prigge signifieth in their language to steale, and a Prauncer is a horse: so beinge put together, the matter is[79] playne. These go commonly in Ierkins of leatherr, or of white frese, and carry litle wands in their hands, and will walke through grounds and pastures, to search and se horses meete for their purpose. And if thei chaunce to be met and asked by the owners of the grounde what they make there, they fayne strayghte that they haue loste their waye, and desyre to be enstructed the beste waye to such a place. These will also repayre to gentlemens houses and aske their charitye, and wyll offer their seruice. And if you aske them what they can do, they wyll saye that they can kepe two or thre Geldinges, and waite vppon a Gentleman. These haue also their women, that walkinge from them in other places, marke where and what they sée abroade, and sheweth these Priggars therof when they meete, which is with in a wéeke or two. And loke, where they steale any thinge, they conuay the same at the least thre score miles of or more.

¶ There was a Gentleman, a verye friende of myne, rydyng from London homewarde into Kente, hauinge with in thrée myles of his house busynesse, alyghted of his horse, and his man also, in a pretye [leaf 12] vyllage, where diueres houses were, and looked about hym where he myghte haue a conuenient person to walke his horse, because hee would speake with a Farmer that dwelt on the backe side of the sayde village, lytle aboue a quarter of a myle from the place where he lighted, and had his man to waight vpon him, as it was mete for his callinge: espying a Pryggar there standing, thinking the same to dwell there, charging this prity prigginge person to walke his horse well, and that they might not stande styll for takyng of colde, and at his returne (which he saide should not be longe) he would geue hym a peny to drinke, and so wente aboute his busines. This peltynge Priggar, proude of his praye, walkethe his horse[80] vp and downe tyll he sawe the Gentleman out of sighte, and leapes him into the saddell, and awaye he goeth a mayne. This Gentleman returninge, and findinge not his horses, sent his man to the one end of the vyllage, and he went himselfe vnto the other ende, and enquired as he went for his horses that were walked, and began some what to suspecte, because neither he nor his man could se nor find him. Then this Gentleman deligentlye enquired of thre or foure towne dwellers there whether any such person, declaring his stature,[81] age, apparell, with so many linaments of his body as he could call to remembraunce. And, "vna voce," all sayde that no such man dwelt in their streate, neither in the parish, that they knewe of; but some did wel remember that such a one they saw there lyrkinge and huggeringe two houres HARMAN. A PALLYARD.before the Gentleman came thether, and a straunger to them. "I had thoughte," quoth this Gentleman, "he had here dwelled,"—and marched home manerly in his botes: farre from the place he dwelt not. I suppose at his comming home he sente suche wayes as he suspected or thought méete to searche for this Prigger, but hetherto he neuer harde any tydinges agayne of his palfreys.—I had the best geldinge stolen oute of my pasture that I had amongst others whyle this boke was first a printinge.

¶ A PALLYARD. Cap. 7.

THese Palliardes be called also Clapperdogens: these go with patched clokes, and haue their Morts with them, which they cal wiues; and if he goe to one house, to aske his almes, his wife shall goe to a nother: for what they get (as bread, chéese, malte, and woll) they sell the same for redy money; for so they get more and if they went together. Although they be thus[82] deuided in the daie, yet they mete iompe at night. Yf they chaunce to come to some gentylmans house standinge [leaf 12, back] a lone, and be demaunded whether they be man and wyfe, and if he perceaue that any doubteth thereof, he sheweth them a Testimonial with the ministers name, and others of the same parishe (naminge a parishe in some shere fare distant from the place where he sheweth the same). This writing he carieth to salue that sore. Ther be many Irishe men that goe about with counterfeate licenses; and if they perceiue you wil straytly examen them, they will immediatly saye they can speake no Englishe.

¶ Farther, vnderstand for trouth that the worst and wickedst of all this beastly generation are scarse comparable to these prating Pallyardes. All for the most parte of these wil either lay to their legs an herb called Sperewort, eyther Arsnicke, which is called Ratesbane. The nature of this Spereworte wyll rayse a great blister in a night vpon the soundest part of his body; and if the same be taken away, it wyl dry vp againe and no harme. But this Arsnicke will so poyson the same legge or sore, that it will euer after be incurable: this do they for gaine and to be pitied. The most of these that walke about be Walchmen.

HARMAN. A FRATER.

¶ A FRATER. Cap. 8.

SOme of these Fraters will cary blacke boxes at their gyrdel, wher in they haue a briefe of the Queenes maiesties letters patentes, geuen to suche[83] poore spitlehouse for the reliefe of the poore there, whiche briefe is a coppie of the letters patentes, and vtterly fained, if it be in paper or in[84] parchment without the great seale. Also, if the same brief be in printe,[85] it is also of auctoritie. For the Printers wil sée and wel vnderstand, before it come in presse, that the same is lawfull. Also, I am credibly informed that the chiefe Proctors of manye of these houses, that seldome trauel abroad them selues, but haue their factors to gather for them, which looke very slenderly to the impotent and miserable creatures committed to their charge, and die for want of cherishing; wheras they and their wiues are wel crammed and clothed, and will haue of the best. And the founders of euery such house, or the chiefe of the parishe wher they be, woulde better sée vnto these Proctors, that they might do their duty, they should be wel spoken of here, and in the world to come aboundantly therefore rewarded. I had of late an honest man, and of good wealthe, repayred to my house to common wyth me aboute certeyne affaires. I inuited the same to dinner, and dinner beinge done, I demaunded of hym some newes of these[86] parties were hee dwelte. "Thankes be to God, syr," (saith he); "all is well and good now." "Now!" (quoth I) "this same 'nowe' [leaf 13] declareth that some things of late hath not bene wel." "Yes, syr," (quoth he) "the[87] matter is not great. I had thought I should haue bene wel beaten within this seuenth night." "How so?" (quoth I). "Mary, syr," sayd he, "I am Counstable for fault of a better, and was commaunded by the Iusticer to watch. The watch being set, I toke an honest man, one of my neighbors, with me, and went vp to the ende of the towne as far as the spittle house, at which house I heard a great noyse, and, drawing nere, stode close vnder the wall, and this was at one of the clocke after midnight. Where he harde swearinge, pratinge, and wagers laying, and the pot apase walkinge, and xl. pence gaged vpon a matche of wrastling, pitching of the barre, and casting of the sledge. And out they goe, in a fustian fume, into the backe syde, where was a great Axiltrye,[88] and there fell to pitching of the barre, being thre to thre. The Moone dyd shine bright, the Counstable with his neighboure myght see and beholde all that was done. And howe the wyfe of the house was rostinge of a Pyg, whyle her gestes were in their matche. At the laste they coulde not agree vpon a caste, and fell at wordes, and from wordes to blowes. The Counstable with his[89] fellowe runnes vnto them, to parte them, and in the partinge lyckes a drye blowe or two. Then the noyse increased; the Counstable woulde haue had them to[90] the stockes. The wyfe of the house runnes out with her goodman to intreat the Counstable for her gestes, and leaues the Pyg at the fyre alone. In commeth two or thrée of the next neighboures, beinge waked wyth this noise, and into the house they come, and fynde none therein, but the Pygge well rosted, and carieth the same awaye wyth them, spyte and all, with suche breade and drinke also as stoode vpon the table. When the goodman and the goodwyfe of the house hadde intreated and pacified the Counstable, shewinge vnto him that they were Proctors and Factores all of Spyttell houses, and that they taryed there but to breake theyr fast, and woulde ryde awaye immediatelye after, for they had farre to goe, and therefore mente to ryde so earlye. And comminge into their house agayne, fyndinge the Pygge wyth bread and drincke all gonne, made a greate exclamation, for they knewe not who had the same.

¶ The Counstable returning and hearinge the lamentable wordes of the good wyfe, howe she had lost both meate and drinke, and sawe it was so in deede, hée laughed in his sleue, and commaunded her to dresse no more at vnlawfull houres for any gestes. For hée thought it better bestowed vppon those smell feastes his poore neighboures then vppon HARMAN. A ABRAHAM MAN.suche sturdye Lubbares. The nexte mornynge betymes the [leaf 13, back] spitte and pottes were sette at the Spittle house doore for the owner. Thus were these Factours begyled of theyr breakefast, and one of them hadde well beaten an other; "And, by my trouth," (quoth thys Counstable) "I was gladde when I was well ryd of them." "Why," quoth I, "coulde the[y] caste the barre and sledge well?" "I wyll tell you, syr," (quoth hée) "you knowe there hath bene manye games this Sommer. I thinke verely, that if some of these Lubbars had bene there, and practysed amongest others, I beleue they woulde haue carryed awaye the beste games. For they were so stronge and sturdye, that I was not able to stande in their handes." "Well" (quoth I) "at these games you speake of, both legges and armes bée tryed." "Yea," quoth this offycer, "they bée wycked men. I haue séene some of them sithens wyth cloutes bounde aboute theyr legges, and haltynge wyth their staffe in their handes. Wherefore some of theym, by GOD, bee nought all."

¶ A ABRAHAM MAN. Cap. 9.

THese Abrahom men be those that fayne themselues to haue beene mad, and haue bene kept eyther in Bethelem or in some other pryson a good tyme, and not one amongst twenty that euer came in pryson for any such cause: yet wyll they saye howe pitiously and most extreamely they haue bene beaten, and dealt with all. Some of these be merye and verye pleasant, they wyll daunce and sing; some others be as colde and reasonable to talke wyth all. These begge money; eyther when they come at Farmours howses they wyll demaunde Baken, eyther chéese, or wooll, or any thinge that is worthe money. And if they espye small company within, they wyll with fierce countenaunce demaund some what. Where for feare the maydes wyll geue theym largely to be ryd of theym.

{ ¶ If they maye conuenyently come by any cheate, they wyl picke and steale, as the v[p]right man or Roge, poultrey or lynnen. And all wemen that wander bée at their commaundemente. Of all that euer I saw of this kynde, one naminge him selfe Stradlynge is the craftiest and moste dyssemblyngest Knaue. Hée is ableHARMAN. A WHIPIACKE. wyth hys tounge and vsage to deceaue and abuse the wysest man that is. And surely for the proporcion of his body, with euery member there vnto appertayninge, it cannot be a mended. But as the prouerbe is "God hath done his part." Thys Stradlyng sayth he was the Lord Sturtons man; and when he was executed, for very pensiuenes of mynde, [leaf 14] he fell out of his wytte, and so continued a yeare after and more; and that with the very gréefe and feare, he was taken wyth a marueilous palsey, that both head and handes wyll shake when he talketh, with anye and that a pase or fast, where by he is much pytied, and getteth greately. And if I had not demaunded of others, bothe men and women, that commonly walketh as he doth, and knowen by them his déepe dissimylation, I neuer hadde vnderstand the same. And thus I end wyth these kynde of vacabondes.

¶ A FRESHE WATER MARINER OR WHIPIACKE. Cap. 10.

THese Freshwater Mariners, their shipes were drowned in the playne of Salisbery. These kynde of Caterpillers counterfet great losses on the sea; these bée some Western men, and most bée Irishe men. These wyll runne about the countrey wyth a counterfet lycence, fayninge either shypwracke, or spoyled by Pyrates, neare the coaste of Cornwall or Deuonshyre, and set a lande at some hauen towne there, hauynge a large and formall wrytinge, as is aboue sayd, with the names and seales of suche men of worshyppe, at the leaste foure or fiue, as dwelleth neare or next to the place where they fayne their landinge. And neare to those shieres wyll they not begge, vntyll they come into Wylshyre, Hamshyre, Barkeshyre, Oxfordshyre, Harfordshyre, Middelsex, and so[91] to London, and downe by the ryuer to séeke for their shyppe and goods that they neuer hade: then passe they through Surrey, Sossex, by the sea costes, and so into Kent, demaunding almes to bring them home to their country.

¶ Some tyme they counterfet the seale of the Admiraltie. I haue diuers tymes taken a waye from them their lycences, of both sortes, wyth suche money as they haue gathered, and haue confiscated the same to the pouerty nigh adioyninge to me. And they wyll not beelonge with out another. For at anye good towne they wyll renewe the same. Once wyth muche threatninge and faire promises, I required to knowe of one companye who made their lycence. And they sweare that they bought the same at Portsmouth, of a Mariner there, and it cost them[92] two shillinges; with such warrantes to be so good and efectuall, that if any of the best men of lawe, or learned, aboute London, should peruse the same, they weare able to fynde no faute there with, but would assuredly allow the same.

HARMAN. N. BLUNT, N. GENYNGES.

[leaf 14, back][93]

A vpright man. Nicolas Blunt. The coūterfet Cranke. Nicolas Genynges.
A vpright man. Nicolas Blunt. The coūterfet Cranke. Nicolas Genynges.

These two pyctures, lyuely set out, One bodye and soule, god send him more grace. This mounstrous desembelar, a Cranke all about. Vncomly couetinge, of eche to imbrace, Money or wares, as he made his race. And sometyme a marynar, and a saruinge man, Or els an artificer, as he would fayne than. Such shyftes he vsed, beinge well tryed, A bandoninge labour, tyll he was espyed. Conding punishment, for his dissimulation, He sewerly receaued with much declination.[94]

HARMAN. A COUNTERFET CRANKE.

[leaf 15]

¶ A COUNTERFET CRANKE. Cap. 11.

THese that do counterfet the Cranke be yong knaues and yonge harlots, that depely dissemble the falling sicknes. For the Cranke in their language is the falling euyll. I haue séene some of these with fayre writinges testimoniall, with the names and seales of some men of worshyp in Shropshyre, and in other Shieres farre of, that I haue well knowne, and haue taken the same from them. Many of these do go without writinges, and wyll go halfe naked, and looke most pitiously. And if any clothes be geuen them, the[y][95] immediatly sell the same, for weare it they wyll not, because they would bée the more pitied, and weare fylthy clothes on their heades, and neuer go without a péece of whyte sope about them, which, if they sée cause or present gaine, they wyll priuely conuey the same into their mouth, and so worke the same there, that they wyll fome as it were a Boore, and maruelously for a tyme torment them selues; and thus deceiue they the common people, and gayne much. These haue commonly their harlots as the other.

Apon Alhollenday in the morning last Anno domini. 1566, or my[96] booke was halfe printed, I meane the first impression, there came earely in the morninge a Counterfet Cranke vnder my lodgynge at the whyte Fryares, wythin the cloyster, in a lyttle yard or coorte, where aboutes laye two or thre great Ladyes, beyng without the lyberties of London, where by he hoped for the greatter gayne; this Cranke there lamentably lamentinge and pitefully crying to be releued, declared to dyuers their hys paynfull and miserable dysease. I being rysen and not halfe ready, harde his dolfull wordes and rufull mornings, hering him name the falling sicknes, thought assuredlye to my selfe that hée was a depe desemblar; so, comminge out at a sodayne, and beholdinge his vgly and yrksome attyre, hys lothsome and horyble countinance, it made me in a meruelous parplexite what to thinke of hym, whether it were fayned or trouth,—for after this manner went he: he was naked from the wast vpward, sauyng he had a old Ierken[97] of leather patched, and that was lose[98] about hym, that all his bodye laye out bare; a filthy foule cloth he ware on his head, being cut for the purpose, hauing a narowe place to put out his face, with a bauer made to trusse vp his beard, and a stryng that tyed the same downe close aboute his necke; with an olde felt hat which he styll caried in his hande to receaue the charytye and deuotion of the people, for that woulde he hold out from hym; hauyng hys face, from the eyes downe ward, all smerd with freshe bloud, [leaf 15, back] as thoughe he had new falen, and byn tormented wyth his paynefull panges,—his Ierken beinge all be rayde with durte and myre, and hys hatte and hosen also, as thoughe hée hadde wallowed in the myre: sewerly the sighte was monstrous and terreble. I called hym vnto me, and demaunded of hym what he ayled. "A, good maister," quoth he, "I haue the greuous and paynefull dyseas called the falynge syckenes." "Why," quoth I, "howe commeth thy Ierken, hose, and hat so be rayd with durte and myre, and thy skyn also?" "A, good master, I fell downe on the backesyde here in the fowle lane harde by the watersyde; and there I laye all most all night, and haue bled all most all the bloude owte in my bodye." It raynde that morninge very fast; and whyle I was thus talkinge with hym, a honest poore woman that dwelt thereby brought hym a fayre lynnen cloth, and byd hym wype his face therewyth; and there beinge a tobbe standing full of rayne water, offered to geue hym some in a dishe that he might make hym selfe cleane: hée refuseth[99] the same. "Why dost thou so?" quoth I. "A, syr," sayth he, "yf I shoulde washe my selfe, I shoulde fall to bléedinge a freshe againe, and then I should not stop my selfe:" these wordes made me the more to suspecte hym.

Then I asked of hym where he was borne, what is name was, how longe he had this dysease, and what tyme he had ben here about London, and in what place. "Syr," saythe he, "I was borne at Leycestar, my name is Nycholas Genings,[100] and I haue had this falling sycknes viij. yeares, and I can get no remedy for the same; for I haue it by kinde, my father had it and my friendes before me; and I haue byne these two yeares here about London, and a yeare and a halfe in bethelem." "Why, wast thou out of thy wyttes?" quoth I. "Ye, syr, that I was."

"What is the Kepars name of the house?" "Hys name is," quoth hée, "Iohn Smith." "Then," quoth I, "hée must vnderstande of thy dysease; yf thou hadest the same for the tyme thou wast there, he knoweth it well." "Ye, not onely he, but all the house bée syde," quoth this Cranke; "for I came thens but within this fortnight." I had stande so longe reasoning the matter wyth him that I was a cold, and went into my chamber and made me ready, and commaunded my seruant to repayre to bethelem, and bringe me true worde from the keper there whether anye suche man hath byn with him as a prisoner hauinge the dysease aforesayd, and gaue hym a note of his name and the kepars also: my seruant, retorninge to my lodginge, dyd assure me that neither was there euer anye such man there, nether yet anye keper of any suche name; but hée that was there keper, he sent me hys name in writing, afferming that hee letteth no man depart from hym vnlesse he be fet a waye by [leaf 16] hys fréendes, and that none that came from hym beggeth aboute the Citye. Then I sent for the Printar of this booke, and shewed hym of this dyssembling Cranke, and how I had sent to Bethelem to vnderstand the trouth[101], and what aunsweare I receaued againe, requiringe hym that I might haue some seruant of his to watche him faithfully that daye, that I might vnder stand trustely to what place he woulde repaire at night vnto, and thether I promised to goe my selfe to sée their order, and that I woulde haue hym to associate me thether: hée gladly graunted to my request, and sent two boyes, that both diligently and vygelantly accomplisht the charge geuen them, and found the same Cranke aboute the Temple, where about the most parte of the daye hée begged, vnlesse it weare about xii. of the clocke he went on the backesyde of Clementes Ine without Temple barre: there is a lane that goeth into the Feldes; there hee renewed his face againe wyth freshe bloud, which he caried about hym in a bladder, and dawbed on freshe dyrte vpon his Ierken, hat, and hoson.

¶ And so came backe agayne vnto the Temple, and sometyme to the Watersyde, and begged of all that passed bye: the boyes behelde howe some gaue grotes, some syxe pens, some gaue more; for hée looked so ougleie and yrksomlye, that euerye one pytied his miserable case that beehelde hym. To bee shorte, there he passed all the daye tyll night approched; and when it began to bée some what dark, he went to the water syde and toke a Skoller,[102] and was sette ouer the Water into Saincte Georges feldes, contrarye to my expectatian; for I had thought he woulde haue gonne into Holborne or to Saynt Gylles in the felde; but these boyes, with Argues and Lynces eyes, set sewre watche vppon him, and the one tooke a bote and followed him, and the other went backe to tell his maister.

The boye that so folowed hym by Water, had no money to pay for his Bote hyre, but layde his Penner and his Ynkhorne to gage for a penny; and by that tyme the boye was sette ouer, his Maister, wyth all celeryte, hadde taken a Bote and followed hym apase: now hadde they styll a syght of the Cranke, wych crossed ouer the felddes towardes Newyngton, and thether he went, and by that tyme they came thether it was very darke: the Prynter hadde there no acquaintance, nether any kynde of weapon about hym, nether knewe he[103] how farre the Cranke woulde goe, becawse hee then suspected that they dogged hym of purposse; he there stayed hym, and called for the Counstable, whyche came forthe dylygentelye to inquyre what the matter was: thys zelous Pryntar charged thys offycer [leaf 16, back] wyth hym as a malefactor and a dessemblinge vagabonde—the Counstable woulde haue layde him all night in the Cage that stode in the streate. "Naye," saythe this pitifull Prynter, "I praye you haue him into your house; for this is lyke to be a cold nyght, and he is naked: you kepe a vytellinge house; let him be well cherished this night, for he is well hable to paye for the same. I knowe well his gaynes hath byn great to day, and your house is a sufficient pryson for the tyme, and we wil there serche hym. The Counstable agreed there vnto: they had him in, and caused him to washe him selfe: that donne, they demaunded what money he had about hym. Sayth this Cranke, "So God helpe me, I haue but xii. pence," and plucked oute the same of a lytle pursse. "Why, haue you no more?" quoth they. "No," sayth this Cranke, "as God shall saue my soule at the day of iudgement." "We must se more," quoth they, and began to stryp hym. Then he plucked out a nother purse, wherin was xl. pens. "Toushe," sayth[104] thys Prynter, "I must see more." Saythe this Cranke, "I pray God I bée dampned both body[105] and soule yf I haue anye more." "No," sayth thys Prynter, "thou false knaue, here is my boye that dyd watche thée all this daye, and sawe when such men gaue the péeses of sixe pens, grotes, and other money; and yet thou hast shewed vs none but small money." When thys Cranke hard this, and the boye vowinge it to his face, he relented, and plucked out another pursse, where in was eyght shyllings and od money; so had they in the hole that he had begged that day xiij. shillings iii. [106]pens halfepeny[106]. Then they strypt him starke naked, and as many as sawe him sayd they neuer sawe hansommer man, wyth a yellowe flexen beard[107], and fayre skynned, withoute anye spot or greffe. Then the good wyfe of the house fet her goodmans[108] olde clocke, and caused the same to be cast about him, because the sight shoulde not abash her shamefast maydens, nether loth her squaymysh sight.

{ Thus he set[109] downe at the Chemnes end, and called for a potte of Béere, and dranke of a quarte at a draft, and called for another, and so the thyrde, that one had bene sufficient for any resonable man, the Drynke was so stronge.[110] I my selfe, the next morninge, tasted thereof; but let the reader iudge what and howe much he would haue dronke and he had bene out of feare. Then when they had thus wrong water out of a flint in spoyling him of his euyl gotten goods, his passing pens[111], and fleting trashe, The printer with this offecer were in gealy gealowsit[112], and deuised to search a barne for some roges and vpright men, a quarter of a myle from the house, that stode a lone in the fieldes, and wente out about their busines, leauing this cranke alone with his wyfe and maydens: this crafty Cranke, espying al gon, requested the good wife that [leaf 17] hee might goe out on the backesyde to make water, and to exonerate his paunche: she bad hym drawe the lache of the dore and goe out, neither thinkinge or mistrusting he would haue gon awaye naked; but, to conclude, when hee was out, he cast awaye the cloke, and, as naked as euer he was borne, he ran away, [113]that he could[114] neuer be hard of [115]againe.[113] Now[115] the next morning betimes, I went vnto Newington, to vnderstand what was done, because I had word or it was day that there my printer was; and at my comming thether, I hard the hole circumstaunce, as I aboue haue wrytten; and I, seing the matter so fall out, tooke order with the chiefe of the parish that this xiij. shyllings and iij. [116]pens halfpeny[116] might the next daye be equally distributed, by their good discrecions, to the pouertie of the same parishe,[117] and so it was done.

HARMAN. A DOMMERAR.

¶ A DOMMERAR. Cap. 12.

THese Dommerars are leud and most subtyll people: the moste part of these are Walch men, and wyll neuer speake, vnlesse they haue extreame punishment, but wyll gape, and with a maruelous force wyll hold downe their toungs doubled, groning for your charyty, and holding vp their handes full pitiously, so that with their déepe dissimulation they get very much. There are of these many, and but one that I vnderstand of hath lost his toung in dede. Hauing on a time occasion to ride to Dartforde, to speake with a priest there, who maketh all kinde of conserues very well, and vseth stilling of waters; And repayringe to his house, I founde a Dommerar at his doore, and the priest him selfe perusinge his[118] lycence, vnder the seales and hands of certayne worshypfull men, had[119] thought the same to be good and effectuall. I taking the same writing, and reading it ouer, and noting the seales, founde one of the seales like vnto a seale that I had aboute me, which seale I bought besides Charing crosse, that I was out of doubte it was none of those Gentlemens seales that had sub[s]cribed. And hauing vnderstanding before of their peuish practises, made me to conceaue that all was forged and nought. I made the more hast home; for well I wyst that he would and must of force passe through the parysh where I dwelt; for there was no other waye for hym. And comminge homewarde, I found them in the towne, accordinge to my expectation, where they were staid; for there was a Pallyarde associate with the Dommerar and partaker of his gaynes, whyche Pallyarde I sawe not at Dartford. The stayers of them was a gentleman called[120] Chayne, and a seruant of my Lord Kéepers, cald Wostestowe, which was [leaf 17, back] the chiefe causer of the staying of them, being a Surgien, and cunning in his science, had séene the lyke practises, and, as he sayde, hadde caused one to speake afore that was dome[121]. It was my chaunce to come at the begynning of the matter. "Syr," (quoth this Surgien) "I am bold here to vtter some part of my cunning. I trust" (quoth he) "you shall se a myracle wrought anon. For I once" (quoth he) "made a dumme man to speake." Quoth I, "you are wel met, and somwhat you haue preuented me; for I had thought to haue done no lesse or they hadde passed this towne. For I well knowe their writing is fayned, and they depe dissemblers." The Surgien made hym gape, and we could sée but halfe a toung. I required the Surgien to put hys fynger in his mouth, and to pull out his toung, and so he dyd, not withstanding he held strongly a prety whyle; at the length he pluckt out the same, to the great admiration of many that stode by. Yet when we sawe his tounge, hée would neither speake nor yet could heare. Quoth I to the Surgien, "knit two of his fyngers to gether, and thrust a stycke betwene them, and rubbe the same vp and downe a lytle whyle, and for my lyfe hée speaketh by and by." "Sir," quoth this Surgien, "I praye you let me practise and[122] other waye." I was well contented to sée the same. He had him into a house, and tyed a halter aboute the wrestes of his handes, and hoysed him vp ouer a beame, and there dyd HARMAN. A PRYGGE.let him hang a good while: at the length, for very paine he required for Gods sake to let him down. So he that was both deafe and dume coulde in short tyme both heare and speake. Then I tooke that money I could find in his pursse, and distributed the same to the poore people dwelling there, whiche was xv. pence halfepeny, being all that we coulde finde. That done, and this merry myracle madly made, I sent them with my seruaunt to the next Iusticer, where they preached on the Pyllery for want of a Pulpet, and were well whypped, and none dyd bewayle them.

¶ A DRONKEN TINCKAR. Cap. 13.

THese dronken Tynckers, called also Prygges, be beastly people, and these yong knaues be the wurst. These neuer go with out their Doxes, and yf their women haue anye thing about them, as apparell or lynnen, that is worth the selling, they laye the same to gage, or sell it out right, for bene bowse at their bowsing ken. And full sone wyll they bée wearye of them, and haue a newe. When they happen one woorke at any good house, their Doxes lynger alofe, and tarry for them in some corner; and yf he taryeth longe from her, then she knoweth [leaf 18] he hath worke, and walketh neare, and sitteth downe by him. For besydes money, he looketh for meate and drinke for doinge his dame pleasure. For yf she haue thrée or foure holes in a pan, hee wyll make as many more for spedy gaine. And if he se any old ketle, chafer, or pewter dish abroad in the yard where he worketh, hée quicklye snappeth the same vp, and in to the booget it goeth round. Thus they lyue with deceite.

{¶ I was crediblye informed, by such as could well tell, that one of these tipling Tinckers with his dogge robbed by the high way iiij. Pallyards and two Roges, six persons together, and tooke from them aboue foure pound in ready money, and hide him after in a thicke woode a daye or two, and so escaped vntaken. Thus with picking and stealing, mingled with a lytle worke for a coulour, they passe their time.

HARMAN. A SWADDER. A IARKEMAN AND A PATRICO.

¶ A SWADDER, OR PEDLER. Cap. 14.

THese Swadders and Pedlers bee not all euyll, but of an indifferent behauiour. These stand in great awe of the vpright men, for they haue often both wares and money of them. But for as much as they seeke gayne vnlawfully against the lawes and statutes of this noble realme, they are well worthy to be registred among the number of vacabonds; and vndoubtedly I haue hadde some of them brought before me, when I was in commission of the peace, as malefactors, for bryberinge and stealinge. And nowe of late it is a greate practes of the vpright man, when he hath gotten a botye, to bestowe the same vpon a packefull of wares, and so goeth a time for his pleasure, because he would lyue with out suspition.

¶ A IARKE MAN, AND A PATRICO. Cap. 15.

FOR as much as these two names, a Iarkeman and a Patrico, bée in the old briefe of vacabonds, and set forth as two kyndes of euil doers, you shall vnderstande that a Iarkeman hathe his name of a Iarke, which is a seale in their Language, as one should make writinges and set seales for lycences and pasporte[123]. And for trouth there is none that goeth aboute the countrey of them that can eyther wryte so good and fayre a hand, either indite so learnedly, as I haue sene and handeled a number of them: but haue the same made in good townes where they come, as what can not be hadde for money, as the prouerbe sayth ("Omnia venalia Rome"), and manye hath confessed the same to me. [leaf 18, back] Now, also, there is a Patrico, and not a Patriarcho[124], whiche in their language is a priest that should make mariages tyll death dyd depart; but they haue none such, I am well assured; for I put you out of doubt that not one amo[n]gest a hundreth of them are maried, for they take lechery for no sinne, but naturall fellowshyp and good lyking loue: so that I wyll not blot my boke with these two that be not.

HARMAN. A DEMAUNDER FOR GLYMMAR.

¶ A DEMAUNDER FOR GLYMMAR. Cap. 16.

THese Demaunders for glymmar be for the moste parte wemen; for glymmar, in their language, is fyre. These goe with fayned[125] lycences and counterfayted wrytings, hauing the hands and seales of suche gentlemen as dwelleth nere to the place where they fayne them selues to haue bene burnt, and their goods consumed with fyre. They wyll most lamentable[126] demaunde your charitie, and wyll quicklye shed salte teares, they be so tender harted. They wyll neuer begge in that Shiere where their losses (as they say) was. Some of these goe with slates at their backes, which is a shéete to lye in a nightes. The vpright men be very familiare with these kynde of wemen, and one of them helpes an other.

¶ A Demaunder for glymmar came vnto a good towne in Kente, to aske the charitie of the people, hauinge a fayned lycens aboute her that declared her misfortune by fyre, donne in Somerset shyre, walkinge with a wallet on her shoulders, where in shée put the deuotion of suche as hadde no money to geue her; that is to saye, Malte, woll, baken, bread, and cheese; and alwayes, as the same was full, so was it redye money to her, when she emptyed the same, where so euer shee trauelede: thys harlot was, as they terme it, snowte fayre, and had an vpright man or two alwayes attendinge on her watche (whyche is on her parson), and yet so circumspecte, that they woulde neuer bee séene in her company in any good towne, vnlesse it were in smale vyllages where typling houses weare, eyther trauelinge to gether by the hygh wayes; but the troth is, by report, she would wekely be worth vi. or seuen shyllinges with her begging and bycherye. This glimmering Morte, repayringe to an Ine in the sayde towne where dwelt a wydow of fyftie wynter olde of good welth; but she had an vnthryftye sonne, whom she vsed as a chamberlaine to attend gestes when they repared to her house: this amerous man, be holdinge with ardante eyes thys[127] glymmeringe glauncer, was presentlye pyteouslye persed to the hart, and lewdlye longed to bée clothed vnder her lyuerye; and bestowinge [leaf 19] a fewe fonde wordes with her, vnderstode strayte that she woulde be easlye perswaded to lykinge lechery, and as a man mased, mused howe to attayne to his purpose, for[128] he hadde no money. Yet consideringe wyth hym selfe that wares woulde bée welcome where money wanted, hée went with a wannion to his mothers chamber, and there sekinge aboute for odde endes, at length founde a lytle whystell of syluer that his mother dyd vse customablye to weare on, and had forgot the same for haste that morninge, and offeres the same closely to this manerly marian, that yf she would mete hym on the backesyde of the towne and curteously kys him with out constraynt, she shoulde bée mystres thereof, and it weare much better. "Well," sayth she, "you are a wanton;" and beholdinge the whystell, was farther in loue there with then rauysht wyth his person, and agred to mete him presently, and to accomplyshe his fonde fancy:—to be short, and not tedyous, a quarter of a myle from the towne, he merely toke measure of her vnder a bawdye bushe; so she gaue hym that she had not, and he receiued that he coulde not; and taking leue of eche other with a curteous kysse, she plesantly passed forth one her iornaye, and this vntoward lycorous chamberlayne repayred home warde. But or these two tortylles tooke there leue, the good wyfe myssed her whystell, and sent one of her maydenes in to her chamber for the same, and being long sawght for, none coulde be founde; her mystres hering that, diligent search was made for the same; and that it was taken awaye, began to suspecte her vnblessed babe, and demaunded of her maydens whether none of them sawe her sonne in her chamber that morning, and one of them aunswered that she sawe him not there, but comming from thens: then had she ynough, for well she wyste that he had the same, and sent for him, but he could not be founde. Then she caused her hosteler, in whome she had better affyaunce in for his trouth,—and yet not one amongst twenty of them but haue well left there honesty, (As I here a great sorte saye)—to come vnto her, whiche attended to knowe her pleasure. "Goe, seke out," saythe she, "my vntowarde sonne, and byd hym come speake with me." "I sawe him go out," saythe he, "halfe an houre sithens one the backesyde. I hadde thought you hadde sent him of your arrante." "I sent him not," quoth she; "goe, loke him out."

¶ This hollowe hosteler toke his staffe in his necke, and trodged out apase that waye he sawe him before go, and had some vnderstanding, by one of the maydens, that his mistres had her whistell stolen and suspected her sonne; and he had not gone farre but that he espyed him comming homeward alone, and, meting him, axed where he had ben. [leaf 19, back] "Where haue I bene?" quoth he, and began to smyle. "Now, by the mas, thou hast bene at some baudy banquet." "Thou hast euen tolde trouth," quoth thys chamberlayne. "Sewerly," quoth this hosteler, "thou haddest the same woman that begged at our house to day, for the harmes she had by fyre: where is she?" quoth he. "She is almost a myle by this tyme," quoth this chamberlayne. "Where is my mystres whystell?" quoth this hosteler; "for I am well assured that thou haddest it, and I feare me thou hast geuen it to that harlot." "Why! is it myssed?" quoth this chamberlayne. "Yea," quoth this hosteler, and shewed him all the hole circumstaunce, what was both sayde and thought on him for the thing. "Well, I wyl tell the," quoth this Chamberlayne. "I wylbe playne with the. I had it in dede, and haue geuen the same to this woman, and I praye the make the best of it, and helpe nowe to excuse the matter, and yet surely and thou wouldest take so much payne for me as to ouer take her, (for she goeth but softly, and is not yet farre of) and take the same from her, and I am euer thyne assured fréende." "Why, then, go with me," quoth this hostler. "Nay, in faythe," quoth this Chamberlayne; "what is frear then gift? and I hadde prety pastime for the same." "Hadest thou so?" quoth this hosteler; "nowe, by the masse, and I wyll haue some to, or I wyll lye in the duste or I come agayne." Passing with hast to ouer take this paramoure, within a myle from the place where he departed he ouertoke her, hauing an vpright man in her company, a stronge and a sturdye vacabond: some what amased was this hosteler to se one familiarly in her company, for he had well hopped to haue had some delycate dalyance, as his fellowe hadde; but, seinge the matter so fallout, and being of good corage, and thinking to him selfe that one true man was better then two false knaues, and being on the high way, thought vpon helpe, if nede had bene, by such as had passed to and fro, Demaunded fersely the whistell that she had euyn nowe of his fellowe. "Why, husband," quoth she, "can you suffer this wretche to slaunder your wyfe?" "A vaunt verlet," quoth this vpright man, and letes dryue with all his force at this hosteler, and after halfe[129] a dosen blowes, he strycks his staffe out of his hande, and as this hosteler stept backe to haue taken vp his staffe agayne, his glymmeringe Morte flinges a great stone at him, and strake him one the heade that downe hee fales, wyth the bloud about his eares, and whyle hée laye this amased, the vpright man snatches awaye his pursse, where in hée hadde money of his mystresses as well as of his owne, and there let him lye, and went a waye with spede that they were neuer harde of more. When this drye beaten hosteler was come to him selfe, hée fayntlye wandereth home, and crepethe in to hys couche, and restes [leaf 20] his ydle heade: his mystres harde that hée was come in, and layde him downe on his beade, repayred straight vnto him, and aske hym what he ayled, and what the cause was of his so sudden lying one his bed. "What is the cause?" quoth this hosteler; "your whystell, your whistel,"—speaking the same pyteouslye thre or foure tymes. "Why, fole," quoth his mystrisse, "take no care for that, for I doe not greatly waye it; it was worth but thrée shyllinges foure pens." "I would it had bene burnt for foure yeares agon." "I praye the why so," quoth his mystres; "I think thou art mad." "Nay, not yet," quoth this hosteler, "but I haue bene madly handlyd." "Why, what is the matter?" quoth his mystres, and was more desirous to know the case. "And you wyl for geue my fellowe and me, I wyll shewe you, or els I wyll neuer doe it." Shée made hym presently faithfull promisse that shée woulde. "Then," saythe hee, "sende for your sonne home agayne, whyche is ashamed to loke you in the face." "I agre there to," sayth shée "Well, then," quoth this hosteler, "youre sonne hathe geuen the same Morte that begged here, for the burninge of her house, a whystell, and you haue geuen her v. shyllinges in money, and I haue HARMAN. A BAWDY BASKET.geuen her ten shyllinges of my owne." "Why, howe so?" quoth she. Then he sadly shewed her of his myshap, with all the circumstaunce that you haue harde before, and howe hys pursse was taken awaye, and xv. shyllinges in the same, where of v. shyllinges was her money and x. shyllinges his owne money. "Is this true?" quoth his mystres. "I, by my trouth," quoth this hosteler, "and nothing greues me so much, neyther my beating, neither the losse of my money, as doth my euell and wreched lucke." "Why, what is the matter?" quoth his mystres. "Your sonne," saythe this hosteler, "had some chere and pastyme for that whystell, for he laye with her, and I haue bene well beaten, and haue had my pursse taken from me, and you knowe your sonne is merrye and pleasaunt, and can kepe no great councell; and then shall I bemocked and loughed to skorne in all places when they shall here howe I haue bene serued." "Nowe, out vpon you knaues both," quoth his mystres, and laughes oute the matter; for she well sawe it would not other wyse preuayle.

Notes in this chapter

Note 1 · leaf 2 b. Bodley edition (B).Note 2 · The severe Act against vagrants, Ed. VI., c. 3, was passed in 1548, only 19 years before the date of this 2nd edition.Note 3 · The 1573 edition reads pynking.Note 4 · So printed in both 1567 editions. 1573 reads housholders; but Borsholders is doubtless meant.Note 5 · leaf 3. B.Note 6 · Printed "brfore."Note 7 · reclamation. B.Note 8 · The 1573 edition reads and.Note 9 · The 1573 edition here inserts the word or.Note 10 · vanished. B.Note 11 · fyt. B.Note 12 · The 1573 ed. reads not.Note 13 · This word is omitted in the 1573 ed.Note 14 · The chapters are not noted in the Bodley ed.Note 15 · The 1573 ed. here inserts the word he.Note 16 · 1573 reads if.Note 17 · 1573 has or.Note 18 · Printed "vpreght." vpright in Bodley ed.Note 19 · 1573, be.Note 20 · 1573, as.Note 21 · the. B.Note 22 · dogges. B.Note 23 · 1573 inserts and.Note 24 · 1573 omits.Note 25 · 1573 omits.Note 26 · saith. B.Note 27 · 1573, myne.Note 28 · tarying. B.Note 29 · So printed. Bodley ed. has the.Note 30 · sakes. B.Note 31 · Omitted in 1573.Note 32 · so printed.Note 33 · the. B.Note 34 · Why ... end. B. omits.Note 35 · 1573 reads mate.Note 36 · omitted in 1573.Note 37 · seing ... dyd. B. omits.Note 38 · 1573, was.Note 39 · horses. B.Note 40 · Printed statute.Note 41 · Printed this.Note 42 · B. inserts a.Note 43 · B. omits in.Note 44 · Probably the reason why "in print" came to be considered synonymous with "correct." See 2 Gent. of Verona, act ii. sc. 1, 175.Note 45 · those. B.Note 46 · B. omits the.Note 47 · Castynge of axtre & eke of ston, Sofere hem þere to vse non; Bal, and barres, and suche play, Out of chyche[gh]orde put a-way.— Myrc, p. 11Note 48 · Printed hts.Note 49 · to to. B.Note 50 · Omitted in 1573.Note 51 · him (sic). B.Note 52 · This page is not in Bodley ed.Note 53 · 1573 reads exclamation.Note 54 · they. B.Note 55 · my my. B.Note 56 · gyrken (et seqq.). B.Note 57 · loose. B.Note 58 · refused. B.Note 59 · Gennins. B.Note 60 · trough. B.Note 61 · 1573 reads skolluer.Note 62 · Omitted in 1573 edit.Note 63 · sayih (sic). B.Note 64 · printed dody.Note 65 · d. ob. B.Note 66 · bede. B.Note 67 · mans. B.Note 68 · 1573 inserts him; sette hym. B.Note 69 · 1573 inserts that.Note 70 · pence B.Note 71 · The 1573 edition reads ioly ioylitie; gelowsy. B.Note 72 · The 1573 edition finishes the sentence thus:—"ouer the fields to his own house, as hée afterwards said."Note 73 · woulde. B.Note 74 · again til now. B.Note 75 · d. ob. B.Note 76 · The 1573 edition continues thus:—"wherof this crafty Cranke had part him selfe, for he had both house and wife in the same parishe, as afterNote 77 · of his. B.Note 78 · which priest had. B.Note 79 · cal-(sic). B.Note 80 · dumme. B.Note 81 · So printed. an. B.Note 82 · pasportes. B.Note 83 · Patriarch. B.Note 84 · faynen. B.Note 85 · lamentably. B.Note 86 · beholding this. B.Note 87 · but. B.Note 88 · Omitted in 1573.
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