The Iests of GEORGE PEELE, with foure of his Companions at BRAINFORD.
GEorge, with others of his Associates, being mery together at the Tauerne, hauing more store of Goyne then vsually they did possesse, although they were as regardlesse of their siluer, as a garden whore is of her honesty: yet they intended for a season to become good husbands, if they knew how to be sparing of that their pockets were thē furnished withall: Fiue pounds they had amongst them, and a plot must be cast how they might bee merrie with extraordinary cheere three or foure dayes, and kéepe their fiue pounds whole in stocke: George Peele was the man must doe it, or none, and generally they coniured him by their loues, his owne credit, and the reputation that went on him, that he would but in this shew his wit: and withall hee should haue all the furtherance that in them lay. George as easie as they earnest to be wonne to such an exploit, consented, and gathered their money together, and gaue it all to George, who should be their Purse-bearer, and the other foure should seeme as seruants to George Peele; and the better to colour it, they should goe change their cloakes, the one like the other, so neere as they could possible: the which at Belzebubs brother the Brokers, they [Page 2] might quickly doe: This was soone accomplished, and George was fnrnished with his blacke Sattin suit, and a paire of bootes, which were as familiar to his legges, as the pillory to a Bakers or Colliers necke, and hee sufficiently possest his friends with the whole scope of his intent, as, gentle Reader, the sequell will shew. Instantly they tooke a paire of Oares, whose armes were to make a false gallop no further then Brainford, where their faire was paid them so liberally, that each of them the next tide to London, purchased two new wastcoates, yet should these good benefactors come to their vsuall places of trade, and if they spie a better fare then their owne, that happily the Gentleman hath more minde to goe withall, they will not onely fall out with him that is of their owne sweet transporters, as they are, but abuse the fare they carrie with foule speeches, as a Pox or the Deuill go with you▪ as their Godfather Caron the Ferry man of Hell hath taught them. I speake not this of all, but of some that are brought vp in the East, some in the West, some in the North, but most part in the South: but for the rest, they are honest compleat men, leaning them to come to my honest George; who is now merry at the three Pigeons in Braineford with Sache and Sugar, not any wine wanting, the Musicians playing, my host drinking, my hostis dauncing with the worshipfull Iustice, for so then he was tearmed, and his mansion house in Kent, who came thither of purpose to be merry with his men: because he could not so conueniently neere home, by reason of a shrewish wife he had: my gentle hostis gaue him all the entertainment her house could afford▪ for M. Peele had paid royally; for all his [...]ne pounds was come to ten groats. Now, George Peeles wit labors to bring in that fiue pounds there was spent, which was soone begotten. Being set at dinner. My Host, quoth [Page 3] George, how fals the Tyde out for London, not till the euening, quoth mine Hoste, haue you any businesse Sir? Yes marry, quoth George, I intend not to goe home this two dayes▪ Therefore my Hoste saddle my man a horse for London, if you be so well furnished, for I must send him for one bag more, quoth George, ten pounds hath seene no Sunne this six moneths. I am ill furnished if I cannot furnish you with that, quoth my Hoste, and presently sadled him a good Nag, and away rides one of Georges men to London, attending the good houre of his Master Peele in London, in the meane time, George bespeakes great cheare to Supper, saying, He expected some of his friends from London: Now you must imagine there was not a peny owing in the house, for he had paid as liberall as Caesar, as far as Caesars wealth went. For indéed most of the money was one Caesars an honest man yet liuing in London; but to the Catastrophe. All the day before, had one of the other men of George Peele beene a great soliciter to my Hostis, she would beg leaue of his Master he might goe sée a maid, a sweet heart of his so farre as Kingstone, and before his Master went to bed, he would returne againe: saying, he was sure shee might command it at his Masters hands. My kinde Hostis willing to pleasure the yong fellow, knowing in her time what belonged to such matters, went to Master Peel, and moued him in it: which he angerly refused: but she was so earnest in it, that shee swore hee should not deny her, protesting he went but to see an vncle of his some fiue miles off Marry I thanke you, quoth George, my good Hostis, would you so discredit me, or hath the knaue no more wit, then at this time to goe, knowing I haue no horse here, and would he base cullian go afoot? Nay, good Sir, quoth mine Hostis, be not angry, it is not his intent to goe afoot: for hee shall haue my Mare, and I will [Page 4] assure you Sir, vpon my word, he shall be here againe, to haue you to bed; wel, quoth George, Hostis, Ile take you at your word, let him goe, his negligence shall light vpon you. So be it, quoth mine Hostis: so down goeth she▪ and sends away ciuill Thomas, for so she cald him, to his swéet heart backt vpon her Mare: which Thomas instead of riding to Kingstone, tooke London in his way, where meeting with my other horseman, attended the arriuall of George Peele, which was not long after: they are at London, George in his Chamber at Brainford, accompanied with none but one Anthony Nit a Barber, who Din'd and Supt with him continually, of whom hee had borrowed a Lute to passe away the melancholy afternoone, of which he could play as well as Bankes his horse. The Barber very modestly takes his leaue; George obsequiously bids him to supper, who (God willing) would not faile. George being left alone with his two supposed men, gaue them the meane how to escape, and walking in the Court, George found fault with the weather, saying, it was rawish and cold: which word mine Hostis hearing, my kinde Hostis fetched her Husbands holiday Gowne; which George thankfully put about him, and withall called for a cup of Sacke, after which he would walke into the Meddowes, and practise vpon his Lute. 'Tis good for your worship to do so, quoth mine Hostis: which walke George tooke directly to Sion, where hauing the aduantage of a paire of Oares at hand, made this Iourney for London, his two Associates behind had the plot in their heads by Georges instruction for their escape: for they anew he was gone, my Hostis she was in the Market buying of prouision for Supper: mine Hoste he was at Tables, and my two masterlesse men desired the maids to excuse them if their Master came for, quoth they, we will goe drinke two pots with my Smug Smithes wife at old Brainford. I warrant [Page 5] you, quoth the Maides. So away went my men to the Smiths at old Brainford, from thence to London, where they all met, and sold the Horse and the Mare, the Gowne and the Lute, which money was as badly spent, as it was lewdly got. How my Hoste and my Hostis lookt when they saw the euent of this; goe but to the thrée Pigeons at Brainford, you shall know.
The Iest of George and the Barber.
GEorge was not so merry at London with his Capons and Claret, as poore Anthony the Barber was sorrowfull at Brainford for the [...] of his Lute, & therefore determined to come to London to séeke out George Peele, which by the meanes of a kinsman that Anthony Nit had in London, his name was Cuts or Feats, a Fellow that has good skill in tricks on the Cards, and hée was well acquainted with the place where Georges common abode was: and for kindred sake he directed the Barber where he should haue him, which was at a blinde [...] [...] in Sea- [...]ol [...] Lane. There he found George in a greene Ierkin, a Spanish platter fashioned Hat, all alone at a Pecke of Oysters. The Barbers heart danc'd within him, for ioy he had so happily found him, he gaue him the [...] of the day: George not a little abashed at the sight of the Barber, yet went out to discouer it openly, he that at all times had a quicke inuention, was not now behind hand to entertaine my Barber, who knew for what his comming was▪ George sh [...] saluted him, My honest Barber, quoth George, welcome to London, I partly know your businesse, you come for your Lute, doe you not ? Indeed Sir, quoth the Barber, for that is my comming. And beléeue me, quoth George, you shall not lose your labour, [Page 6] I pray you stand to and eat an Oyster, and Ile goe with you presently▪ For a Gentleman in the Citie of great worship, borrowed it of me for the vse of his Daughter, that playes excéeding well, and had a great desire to haue the Lute, but Sir, if you will goe along with me to the Gentlemans house, you shall haue your Lute with great satisfaction, for had not you come, I assure you I had sent to you, for you must vnderstand, that all that was done at Brainford among vs mad Gentlemen, was but a Iest and no otherwise. Sir I thinke not any otherwise, quoth the Barber: but I would desire your worship, that as you had it of me in lone; so in kindnesse you would helpe me to it againe. Oh God what else, quoth George, Ile goe with thee presently, euen as I am, for I came from hunting this morning; and should I goe by to the certaine Gentleman aboue, I should hardly get away, I thank you Sir, quoth the Barber, so on goes George with him in this gréene Ierkin▪ a wand in his hand very pretty, till he came almost at the Aldermans House, where making a sodaine stay, A fore God, quoth George, I must craue thy pardon at this instant, for I haue bethought my selfe, should I go as I am, it would be imagined I had had some of my Lords hounds out this morning, therefore Ile take my leaue of thée, and méet thée where thou wilt about one of the Clock, nay good Sir, quoth the Barber, goe with me now: for I purpose, God willing, to be at Brainford to night, saist thou so, quoth George: why then Ile tell thee what thou shalt doe, thou art here a stranger, and altogether vnknowne, lend me thy Cloake and thy Hat, and doe thou put on my gréene Ierken, and Ile goe with thée directly along. The Barber loth to leaue him vntill he had his Lute, yéelded to the change. So when they came to the Gentlemans porch be put on Georges gréene Ierken, and his Spanish Hat: and he the Barbers Cloake [Page 7] and his Hat; either of them being thus filted, George knocks at the doore, to whom the Porter bids heartily welcome, for George was well knowne, who at that time had all the ouersight of the Pageants, he desires the Porter to bid his friend welcome, for he is a good fellow and a Keeper, Master Porter, ofte that at his pleasure can bestow a haunch of Uenison [...] you; marry that can I, quoth the Barber, I thank you Sir, answered the Porter, Master Peele my Master is in [...] Hall, pleaseth it you to walke in, [...] al my heart, quoth George, in the meane time let my friend beare you company, that he shall Master Peele, quoth the Porter, and if it please him he shall take a simple dinner with me. The Barber giues him harty thankes, no [...] doubting Master or Peele any way, séeing him knowne and himselfe so welcome: fell in Chat with the Porter, George Peele goes directly to the Alderman, who now is came into the Court in the eye of the Barber, where George after many complaints, drawes a black paper out of his bosome, & making actiō to the Barber, reads to the Alderman as followeth, I humbly desire your worship to stand my friend in a sleight matter, yonder-hard [...] that [...] by your Worships Porter, hath [...] me [...], and [...] meanes but to take your worships house for shelter, the occasion is but triuiall, onely for stealing of a piece of flesh, my selfe consorted with three or foure gentlemen of good fashion, that would not willingly haue our names come in question. Therefore this is my [...], that your Worship would let one of your seruants let me out at the Garden doore, and I shall thinke my selfe much indebted to your Worship▪ The kind Gentleman, [...] of George Peeles deceit [...] him [...] the Par [...], gaue him a brace of Angels, & caused one his seruants to let George out at the Garden doore, whiche was no sooner opened, but [Page 8] George made way for the Barber séeing him any more, and all the way he went could not choose but laugh at his knauish conceit: how he had guld the simple Barber, who sat all this while with the Porter blowing of his nayles: to whom come this fellow that let out George. You whorson Késperly Rascall, quoth the fellow, doe you come to arrest any honest Gentleman in my Masters house? Not I so God helpe me, quoth the Barber. I pray Sir where is the Gentleman Master Peele that came along with me? Farre enough, quoth the fellow, for your comming néere him, he is gone out at the Garden doore. Garden doore, quoth the Barber? why haue you any more doores then one? We haue sir, and get you hence or Ile set you going goodman Keeper. Alas, quoth the Barber, sir I am no Keeper, I am quite vndone: I am a Barber dwelling at Brainford, and with weeping teares vp and told him how George had vsed him. The seruant goes in & tels his Master: which when he heard, he could not but laugh at the first: yet in pitty of the poore Barber, he gaue him twenty shillings towards his losse. The Barber sighing tooke it, and towards Brainford home he goes, and whereas hee came from thence in a new Cloake and a faire Hat, hee went home weeping in an old Hat, and a greene Ierken.
How George Peele became a Physicion.
GEorge on a time being happily furnished both of horse and money, though the horse he hired, and the money he borrowed: but no matter how he was possest of them: and towards Oxford he rides to make merry with his friends and fellow students: and in his way he tooke vp Wickham, where he soiourned that night: Being at supper accompanied with his Hostis: among other table-talke, [Page 9] they fell into discourse of Chirurgerie, of which my Hostis was a simple professor. Ceorge Peele obseruing the humour of my she Chirurgion, vpheld her in all, the strange cures she talked of, and prassed her womanly endeuour; telling her, he loued her so much the better, because it was a thing that he professed, both Physicke & Chyrurgerie: and George had a Dictionary of Physicall words, that it might set a better glosse vpon that which he seemingly profest: and told his good Hostis, at his returne he would teach her something that should doe her no hurt: for (quoth he) at this instant I am going about a great Cure as farre as Warwick-shire, to a Gentleman of great liuing, and one that hath beene in a Cousumption this halfe yeere, and I hope to doe him good. O God, (quoth the Hostis) there is a Gentleman not a quarter of a Mile off, that hath beene a long time sicke of the same disease: Beleeue me, Sir, quoth the Hostis, would it please your Worship e're your departure in the morning, but to visit the Gentleman, and but spend your opinion of him, and I make no question but the Gentlewoman will bee very thankfull to you. I faith (quoth George, happely at my returne I may; but at this time my haste is such that I cannot: and so good night, mine Hostis. So away went George to bed; and my giddy Hostis, right of the nature of most women, thought that night as long as tenne, till shee was deliuered of that burthen of newes which she had receiued from my new Doctor: (for so hee termed himselfe.) Morning being come, at breake of the day mine Hostis trudges to this Gentlemans house, acquainteth his wife what an excellent man she had at her house: protesting he was the best seene in Physicke, and had done the most strangest cures that euer she heard of: saying, that if shee would but send for him, no question he would doe him good. The Gentlewoman [Page 10] glad to heare of any thing that might procure the health of her Husband, presently sent one of her men, to desire the Doctor to come and visit her Husband: Which message when George heard, hee wondred: for hee had no more skill in Physicke then in Musicke, and they were as distant both from him, as heauen from hell. But, to conclude, George set a bold face on it, and away went he to the sicke Gentleman; where when hee came, after some complement to the Gentlewoman, hee was brought to the Chamber where the ancient Gentleman say wonderfull sicke: for all Physicke had giuen him ouer: George beginnes to feele his Pulses and his temples, saying, hee was very farre spent: yet, quoth hee, vnder GOD I will doe him some good, if Nature bee not quite extinct. Whereupon hee demanded whether they had euer a Garden? That I haue, quoth the Gentlewoman. I pray you direct me thither, quoth George. Where when hee came, hee cut a handfull of euery Flowre, Herbe and Blossome, or whatsoeuer else in the Garden; and brought them in in the lapis of his Cloake, boyled them in Ale; strained them, boyled them againe; and when he had all the iuyce out of them, of which he made some pottle of drinke, he caused the sicke Gentleman to drinke off a maudlin Cup full, and willed his wife to giue him of that same at morning, noone, and night▪ protesting, if any thing in this world did him good, it must bee that: giuing great charge to the Gentlewoman to keepe him wonderfull warme: and at my returne, quoth George, some tenne dayes hence, I will returne and see how he fares: For, quoth he, by that time something will be done; and so I will take my leaue. Not so, quoth the Gentlewoman, your Worshippe must needes stay and take a simple dinner with mee to day. Indeede, quoth George, I [Page 11] cannot now stay; my haste is such, I must presently to Horse. You may suppose George was in haste vntill he was out of the Gentlemans house: for hee knew not whether hee had poysoned the Gentleman or not, which made him so eager to bee gone out of the Gentlemans house. The Gentlewomon séeing she could by no meanes stay him, gaue him two brace of Angels, which neuer shined long in his purse, and desired him at his returne to know her house: which George promised, and with seeming nicenesse tooke the gold, and towards Oxford went he, fortie, shillings heauier then he was, where hee brauely dominéered while his Physicall money lasted. But to see the strangenesse of this: Whether it was the vertue of some herbe which hee gathered, or the conceit the Gentleman had of George Peele, but it so pleased GOD the Gentleman recouered, and in eight dayes walked abroad; and that fortunate potion which George made at randome, did him more good then many pounds that he had spent in halfe a yeere before in Physicke. George his money being spent, he made his returne towards London; and when he came within a mile of the Gentlemans house, hee enquired of a Countrey fellow how such a Gentleman did. The fellow told him. God be praised, his good Landlord was well recouered by a vertuous Gentleman that came this way by chance. Art thou sure of it, quoth George? Yes, beleeue me, quoth the fellow, I saw him in the Fields but this morning. This was no simple newes to George. He presently set spurres to his Horse, and whereas hee thought to shunne the Towne, hee went directly to his Inne: at whose arriuall, the Hostis clapt her hands, the Oastler laught, the Tapster leapt, the Chamberlaine ran to the Gentlemans house, and told him the Doctor was come. How ioyfull the Gentleman was, let them imagine that haue [Page 12] any after-healths. George Peele was sent for, and after a Million of thankes from the Gentleman and his friends, George Peele had 20. pounds deliuered him: which money, how long it was a spending, let the Tauernes in London witnesse.
How George helped his friend to a Supper.
GEorge was inuited one night by certaine of his friends to supper, at the White Horse in Friday stréet; and in the euening as he was going, hee met with an old friend of his, who was so ill at the stomacke, hearing George tell him of the good cheere he went to, himselfe being vnprouided both of meate and money, that he swore he had rather haue gone a mile about, then haue met him at that instant. And beleeue me, quoth George, I am heartily sorry that I cannot take thee along with mee, my selfe being but an inuited guest; besides, thou art out of cloathes, vnfitting for such a company: Mary this Ile doe, if thou wilt follow my aduice, Ile helpe thée to thy supper. Any way, quoth hee to George, doe thou but deuise the meanes, and Ile execute it. George presently tolde him what hee should doe; so they parted. George well entertained, with extraordinary welcome, and seated at the vpper end of the Table, Supper being brought vp, H. M. watched his time below; and when he saw that the meate was carried vp, vp hee followes, (as George had directed him,) who when George saw, You whorson Rascall, (quoth George) What make you heere? Sir, quoth he, I am come from the partie you wot of. You Rogue, quoth George, haue I not forewarned you of this? I pray you, Sir, quoth hee, heare my Errand. Doe you prate, you Slaue, quoth George? [Page 13] and with that, tooke a Rabbet out of the Dish, and threw it at him. Quoth hee, you vse mee very hardly. You Dunghill, quoth George, doe you out-face me? and with that, tooke the other Rabbet, and threw it at his head; after that a Loafe; then drawing his Dagger, making an offer to throw it, the Gentleman staid him: meane while H. M. got the Loafe and the two Rabbets, and away he went: which when George saw he was gone, after a little fretting, he sate quietly. So by that honest shift hee helped his friend to his supper, and was neuer suspected for it of the company.
How George Peele was shauen, and of the reuenge he tooke.
THere was a Gentleman that dwelt in the West Countrey, and had staid heere in London a Tea [...]me longer then hee intended, by reason of a Booke that George had to translate out of Greeke into English: and when he wanted money, George had it of the Gentleman: but the more he supplyed him of Coine, the further off he was from his Booke, and could get no end of it, neither by faire meanes, entreatie, or double payment: for George was of the Poeticall disposition, neuer to write so long as his money lasted; some quarter of the Booke being done, and lying in his hands at randome. The Gentleman had plotted a meanes to take such an order with George next time he came, that he would haue his Booke finished. It was not long before he had his company; his arriuall was for more money: the Gentleman bids him welcome; causeth him to stay dinner, where falling into discourse about his Booke, found that it was as néere ended as he left it two moneths ago. The Gentleman, [Page 14] meaning to be gui'd no longer, caused two of his men to binde George hand and foot in a Chayre: a folly it was for him to aske what they meant by it: the Gentleman sent for a Barber, and George had a beard of an indifferent size, and well growne: he made the Barber shaue him beard and head, left him as bare of haire, as he was of money: the Barber he was well contented for his paines, who left George like an old woman in mans apparell; and his voyce became it well, for it was more woman then man. George, quoth the Gentleman, I haue alwayes vsed you like a friend, my purse hath beene open to you: that you haue of mine to translate, you know it is a thing I highly estéeme; therefore I haue vsed you in this fashion, that I might haue an end of my Booke, which shall be as much for your profit as my pleasure. So forth-with he commanded his men to vnbinde him, and putting his hand into his pocket, gaue him two brace of Angels: quoth hee, Master Peele, drinke this, and by that time you haue finished my booke, your beard will be growne, vntill which time, I know you will be ashamed to walke abroad. George patiently tooke the gold, said little, and when it was darke night, tooke his leaue of the Gentleman, and went directly home: who when his wife saw, I omit the wonder shee made, but imagine those that shall behold their husbands in such a case. To bed went George, and ere morning hee had plotted sufficiently how to cry quid pro quo with his politicke Gentleman.
The Iest of George Peele at Bristow.
GEorge was at Bristow, and there staying somewhat longer then his coyne would last him, his Palfrey that should bee his Carrier to London, his head was growne so big, that he could not get him out of the stable: it so fortuned at that instant, certaine Players came to the Towne, and lay at that Inne where George Peele was: to whom George was well knowne, being in that time an excellent Poet, and had acquaintance of most of the best Players in England: from the triuiall sort hee was but so so; of which these were, only knew George by name, no otherwise. There was not past three of the companie come with the Carriage, the rest were behinde, by reason of a long Iourney they had; so that night they could not enact; which George hearing, had presently a Stratageme in his head to get his Horse free out of the stable, and Money in his purse to beare his charges vp to London: And thus it was: Hee goes directly to the Maior, tels him he was a Scholler and a Gentleman, and that he had a certaine Historie of the Knight of the Rodes; and withall, how Bristow was first founded, and by whom, and a briefe of all those that before him had succeeded in Office in that worshipfull Citie: desiring the Maior, that he, with his presence, and the rest of his Brethren, would grace his labors▪ The Maior agreed to it, gaue him leaue, and withall appointed him a place: but for himselfe, hee could not be there, being in the euening: but bade him make the best benefit he could of the Citie; and very liberally gaue him an Angell, which George thankfully receiues, and about his businesse he goes, got his Stage made, his History cryed, [Page 16] and hyred the Players Apparell, to flourish out his Shew, promising to pay them liberally; and withall desired them they would fauour him so much, as to gather him his money at the doore: (for hee thought it his best course to imploy them, lest they should spie out his knauerie; for they haue perillous heads.) They willingly yéeld to doe him any kindnes that lyes in them; in briefe, carry their apparell to the Hall, place themselues at the doore, where George in the meane time, with the tenne shillings he had of the Maior, deliuered his Horse out of Purgatorie, and carries him to the Townes end, and there placeth him, to be ready at his comming. By this time the Audience were come, and some forty shillings gathered, which money George put in his purse, and putting on one of the Players Silke Robes, after the Trumpet had sounded thrice, out he comes, makes low obeysance, goes forward with his Prologue, which was thus:
Which being said, after some fire-workes that hee had made of purpose, threw out among them, and downe stayres goes he, gets to his Horse, and so with fortie shillings to London; leaues the Players to answer it; who when the Iest was knowne, their innocence excused them, beeing as well gulled as the Maior and the Audience.
How George gulled a Puncke, otherwise called a Croshabell.
COmming to London, hee fell in company with a Cockatrice; which pleased his eye so well, that George fell aboording of her, and proffered her the wine: which my Croshabell willingly accepted: to the Tauerne they goe, where after a little idle talke, George fell to the question about the thing you wot of. My she-Hobby was very dainty, which made George arre more eager; and my letcherous animall proffered largely to obtaine his purpose. To conclude, nothing she would grant vnto, except ready coyne, which was forty shillings, not a farthing lesse: if so he would, next night she would appoint him where he should meete her. George saw how the game went, that she was more for lucre than for loue, thus cunningly answered her: Gentlewoman, howsoeuer you speake, I doe not thinke your heart agrees with your tongue; the money you demand is but to try mee: and indeed but a trifle to me: but because it shall not bee said I bought that Iemme of you I prize so highly, Ile giue you a token to morrow, that shall bee more worth then your demand, if so you please to accept it. Sir, quoth she, it contenteth me well: and so, if please you, at this time wéele part, and to morrow in the euening meete you where you shall appoint. The place was determined, and they kist and parted, shee home, George into Saint Thomas Apostles, to a friend of his, of whom he knew he could take vp a Petticoat of trust: (the first letter of his name begins with G.) A Petticoat hee had of him, at the price of fiue shillings; which money is owing till this day. The next night beeing come, they [Page 18] met at the place appointed, which was a Tauerne; there they were to suppe: that ended, George was to goe home with her, to end his Yeomans plee in her common case. But Master Peele had another drift in his mazzard: for he did so ply her with wine, that in a small time shee spunne such a thread, that shee reeled homewards, and George he was faine to be her supporter: when to her house she came, with nothing so much painting in the inside, as her face had on the outside; with much adoe her Maide had her to bed, who was no sooner laid, but shee fell fast asleepe: which when George perceiued, hee sent the Maide for Milke, and a quart of Sacke to make a Posset; where before her returne, George made so bold as to take vp his owne new Petticoate, a faire Gowne of hers, two gold Kings that lay in the window, and away he went: the Gowne and the gold Kings hee made a chaffer of; the Petticoate hee gaue to his honest Wife, one of the best deedes he euer did to her. How the Croshabell lookt when she awaked and saw this, I was neuer there to know.
How the Gentleman was gulled for shauing of George.
GEorge had a Daughter of the age of tenne yeeres, a Girle of a pretty forme, but of an excellent wit: all part of her was Father, saue her middle: and she had George so tutored all night, that although himselfe was the Author of it, yet had hee beene transformed into his Daughters shape, he could not haue done it with more conceit. George at that time dwelt at the Banke-side, from whence comes this she-sinnow, early in the morning, with her haire dichenalled, wringing her hands, [Page 19] and making such pittifull moane with shrikes and teares, and beating of her brest, that made the people in a maze: some stood wondring at the Childe; others plucked her, to know the occasion; but none could stay her by any meanes, but on shee kept her iourney, crying, O, her Father, her good Father, her deare Father, ouer the Bridge, thorow Cheap-side, and so to the Old Bailey, where the Gentleman soiourned, there sitting her selfe downe, a hundred people gaping vpon her, there she begins to cry out, Woe to that place, that her Father euer saw it: she was a cast-away, her Mother was vndone: till with the noise, one of the Gentlemans men comming downe, looked on her, and knew her to be George Peeles Daughter: hee presently runnes vp, and tels his Master, who commanded his man to bring her vp. The Gentleman was in a cold sweat, fearing that George had for the wrong that he did him the day before, some way vndone himselfe. When the Girle came vp, hee demanded the cause why she so lamented, and called vpon her Father? George his flesh and blood, after a million of sighs, cryed out vpon him, he had made her Father, her good Father, drowne himselfe. Which words once vttered, shee fell into a counterfeit swoone, whom the Gentleman soone recouered. This newes went to his heart, and he being a man of a very milde condition, cheered vp the Girle, made his men to go buy her new cloathes from top to toe, said he would be a Father to her, gaue her fiue pounds, bid her go home and carry it to her mother, and in the eueneng he would visit her. At this, by little and little she began to be quiet; desiring him to come and sée her Mother. He tels her, he will not faile, bids her goe home quietly. So downe stayres goes she pearily, and the wondring people that staid at doore, to heare the manner of her griefe, had of her nought but knauish answers, and [Page 20] home went she directly. The Gentleman was so crossed in mind, and disturbed in thought at this vnhappy accident, that his soule could not be in quiet, till he had béene with this wofull widdow, as hee thought, and presently went to Blacke Fryers, tooke a payre of Oares, and went directly to George Peeles house, where hee found his Wife plucking of Larkes, my crying Crocadile turning of the spit, and George pinn'd vp in a blanket, at his translation. The Gentleman, more glad at the vnlookt for life of George, then the losse of his money, tooke part of the good cheere George had to dinner, wondred at the cunning of the Wench, and within some few daies after had an end of his Booke.
How George read a Play-booke to a Gentleman.
THere was a Gentleman, whom GOD had indued with good liuing to maintaine his small wit: hee was not a Foole absolute, although in this world he had good fortune: and hee was in a manner an Ingle to George, one that tooke great delight to haue the first hearing of any worke that George had done, himselfe being a writer, and had a Poeticall inuention of his owne, which when he had with great labour finished, their fatall end was for priuie purposes. This selfe-conceited brocke had George inuited to halfe a score sheetes of paper, whose Christianly pen had writ Finis to the famous Play of the Turkish Mahamet, and Hyrin the faire Greeke, in Italian called a Curtezan; in Spaine, a Margerite; in French, vn Curtain; in England, among the barbarous, a Whore; but among the Gentle, their vsuall associates, a Puncke: but now the word refined being [Page 21] latest, and the authoritie brought from a Climate as yet vnconquered, the fruitfull Countie of Kent, they call them Croshabell, which is a word but lately vsed, and fitting with their trade, being of a louely and courteous condition. Leauing them: This Fantasticke, whose braine was made of nought but Corke and Spunge, came to the cold lodging of Monsieur Peele, in his blacke Sattin Sute, his Gowne furred with Cony, in his Slippers: being in the euening, he thought to heare Georges booke, and so to returne to his Inne; (this not of the wisest, being of Saint Barnards.) George bids him welcome, told him he would gladly haue his opinion in his booke. He willingly condiscended, and George beginnes to reade, and betweene euery Sceane hee would make pauses, and demand his opinion, how hee liked the carriage of it. Quoth he, wondrous well, the conueyance. O, but (quoth George) the end is farre better: (for hee meant another conueyance e're they two departed.) George was very tedious in reading, and the night grew old: I protest, quoth the Gentleman, I haue staide ouerlong, I feare me I shall hardly get into mine Inne. If you feare that, quoth George, wee will haue a cleane paire of sheetes, and you shall take a simple lodging here. This house-gull willingly embraced it, and to bed they goe, where George in the midst of the night spying his time, put on this Dormouse his cloathes, desired God to keepe him in good rest, honestly takes leaue of him and the House, to whom hee was indebted foure Nobles. When this Drome awaked, and found himselfe so left, he had not the wit to be angry, but swore scuruily at the misfortune, and said, I thought hee would not haue vsed me so. And although it so pleased the Fates he had another sute to put on, yet he could not get thence, till he had paide the money George ought to the house, which for [Page 22] his credit he did: and when he came to his lodging, in anger he made a Poem of it:
How George Peele serued halfe a score Citizens.
GEorge once had inuited halfe a score of his friends to a great Supper, where they were passing merry, no chéere wanting, wine enough, musicke playing: the night growing on, & being vpon departure, they call for a reckoning. George swears there is not a penny for them to pay. They, being men of good fashion, by no meanes will yeeld vnto it, but euery man throwes downe his money, some tenne shillings, some fiue, some more: protesting something they will pay. Well, quoth George, taking vp all the money; seeing you will be so wilfull, you shall sée what shall follow: he commands the musicke to play, and while they were skipping and dancing, George gets his cloake, sends vp two Pottles of Hypocrist, and leaues them and the reckoning to pay. They wondring at the stay of George, meant to be gone; but they were staide by the way, and before they went, forced to pay the reckoning anew. This shewed a mind in him, he cared not whom he deceiued, so he profited himselfe for the present.
A Iest of George, riding to Oxford.
THere was some halfe doozen of Citizens, that had oftentimes beene solliciters to George, he being a Master of Art at the Uniuersitie of Oxford, that hee would ride with them to the Commencement, it being at Midsomer. George, willing to pleasure the Gentlemen his friends, rode along with them. When they had rode the better part of the way, they baited at a Uillage called Stoken, fiue miles from Wickham good cheere was bespoken for dinner; and frolicke was the company, all but George, who could not be in that pleasant vaine that did ordinarily possesse him, by reason he was without mony: but he had not fetcht fortie turnes about the Chamber, before his noddle had entertained a conceit how to money himselfe with credit, and yet gleane it from some one of the company. There was among them one excellent Asse, a fellow that did nothing but friske vp and downe the Chamber, that his money might bee heard chide in his pocket: this fellow had George obserued, and secretly conuay'd his gilt Rapier & Dagger into another Chamber, and there closely hid it: that done, he called vp the Tapster, and vpon his cloake borrowes 5 shillings for an houre or so, till his man came, (as he could fashion it well enough:) so much money he had, and then who more merry then George? Meate was brought vp, they set themselues to dinner, all full of mirth, especially my little foole, who dranke not of the conclusion of their feast: dinner ended, much prattle past, euery man begins to buckle to his furniture: among whom this Hichcock missed his Rapier: at which all the company were in a maze; he besides his wits; for he had borrow'd it of a specaill friend of his, [Page 24] and swore he had rather spend twenty Nobles. This is strange, quoth George, it should be gone in this fashion, none being heere but our selues and the fellowes of the house: who were examined, but no Rapier could be heard of: all the company much grieued; but George in a pittifull chafe, swore it should cost him fortie shillings, but hee would know what was become of it, if Art could doe it: and with that he caused the Oastler to saddle his Nag, for George would ride to a Scholler, a friend of his, that had skill in such matters. O, good M. Peele, quoth the fellow, want no money, heere is forty shillings, see what you can doe, and, if you please, Ile ride along with you. Not so, quoth George, taking his fortie shillings, Ile ride alone, and be you as merry as you can till my returne. So George left them, and rode directly to Oxford, there he acquaints a friend of his with all the circumstance, who presently tooke Horse, and rode along with him to laugh at the Iest. When they came backe, George tels them he had brought one of the rarest men in England: whom they with much complement bid welcome. He, after a distracted countenance, and strange words, takes this Bulfinch by the wrist, and carried him into the priuy, and there willed him to put in his head, but while he had written his name and told forty: which hee willingly did: that done, the Scholler asked him what he saw? By my faith Sir, I smelt a villanous sent, but I saw nothing. Then I haue, quoth hee; and with that directed him where his Rapeir was: saying, It is iust North-East, inclozed in wood, neere the earth: for which they all made diligent search, till George, who hid it vnder a settle, found it, to the comfort of the fellow, the ioy of the company, and the eternall credit of his friend, who was entertained with Wine and Sugar; and George redeemed his Cloake, rode merrily to Oxford, hauing [Page 25] coyne in his pocket, where this L [...]ach spares not for any expence, for the good fortune he had in the happy finding of his Rapier.
How George serued his Hostis.
GEorge lying at an old Widdowes house, and had gone so farre on the Score, that his credit would stretch no further: for she had made a vow, not to depart with drinke or victuals without ready money: Which George seeing the fury of his froward Hostis, in griefe kept his Chamber; called to his Hostis, and told her, she should vnderstand that he was not without money, how poorely soeuer he appeared to her, and that my [...]let shall testifie: in the meane time, good Hostis, quoth he, send for such a friend of mine. Shee did: so his friend came: to whom George imparted his mind: the effect whereof was this, to pawne his Cloake, Hose and Doublet, vnknowne to his Hostis: for, quoth George, this seuen nights doe I intend to keepe my bed. (Truly hee spake: for his intent was, the bed should not keepe him any longer.) Away goes he to pawne his apparell; George bespeakes good cheere to supper, which was no shamblebutcher stuffe, but according to the place: for, his Chamber being remote from the house, at the end of the Garden, his apparell being gone, it appeared to him as the Counter, therefore to comfort himselfe, he dealt in Poultrie. His friend brought the money, supped with him: his Hostis hee very liberally payed, but cauelled with her at her vnkindnesse: vowing that while he lay there, none should attend him but his friend. The Hostis replyed, A Gods name, she was well contented with it: so was George too: for none knew better then himselfe [Page 26] what he intended, but in briefe, thus he vsed his kinde Hostis. After his Apparell and Money was gone, hee made bolde with the Featherbed hee lay on, which his friend slily conuey'd away, hauing as villanons a Wolfe in his belly as George, though not altogether so wise; for that featherbed they deuoured in two daies, feathers and all: which was no sooner digested, but away went the Couerlet, Sheetes, and the Blancket; and at the last dinner, when Georges good friend perceiuing nothing left but the bed cords, as the Deuill would haue it, straight came in his mind the fashion of a halter; the foolish kind knaue would needs fetch a quart of sacke for his Friend George; which Sacke to this day neuer saw Uintuers Cellar: and so he left George in a cold Chamber, a thin shirt, a rauished bed, no comfort left him, but the bare bones of deceased Capons. In this distresse, George be thought him what he might doe; nothing was left him; and as his eye wandred vp and downe the empty Chamber, by chance he spied out an old Armour; at which sight George was the ioyfullest man in Christendome: for the Armour of Achilles, that Vlysses and Aiax stroue for, was not more precious to them, then this to him: for hee presently claps it vpon his backe, the Halbert in his hand, the Moryon on his head, and so gets out the backe way, marches from Shorditch to Clarkenwell, to the no smal wonder of those spectators that beheld him. Being arriued to the wished hauen he would be, an old acquaintance of his furnished him with an old Sute and an old Cloake for his old Armour. How the Hostis looked, when she saw that metamorphosis in her chamber, iudge those Bombortes that liue by tapping, betweene the age of 50 and 3 score.
How he serued a Tapster.
GEorge was making merry with three or foure of his friends in Pye-corner; where the Tapster of the house was much giuen to Poetrie: for he had ingrossed The Knight of the Sunne, Venus and Adonis, and other Pamphlets which the Stripling had collected together; and knowing George to be a Poet, he tooke great delight in his company, and out of his bounty would bestow a brace of Cannes of him. George obseruing the humour of the Tapster, meant presently to worke vpon him. What will you say, quoth George to his friends, if out of this spirit of the Cellar, I fetch a good Angell, that shall hid vs all to supper. We would gladly see that, quoth his friends. Content your selfe, quoth George. The Tapster ascends with his two Cannes, deliuers one to Master Peele, and the other to his friends: giues them kind welcome: but George, in stead of giuing him thankes, bids him not to trouble him: and beginnes in these termes: I protest, Gentlemen, I wonder you will vrge me so much; I sweare I haue it not about me. What is the matter, quoth the Tapster? Hath any one angered you? No faith, quoth George, Ile tell thee, it is this: There is a friend of ours in Newgate, for nothing but onely the command of the Iustices, and he being now to be released, sends to me to bring him an Angell: now the man I loue dearely well; and if hee want tenne Angels, he shall haue them: for I know him sure: but heere's the misery; either I must goe home, or I must bee forced to pawne this: and pluckes an old Harry groat out of his pocket. The Tapster lookes vpon it: Why, and it please you, Sir, quoth he, this is but a groat. No, Sir, quoth George, I know it is but a groat: but this groat [Page 28] will I not lose for forty pound: for this groat had I of my mother, as a testimony of a Lease of a House I am to possesse after her decease: and it I should lose this groat, I were in a faire case: and either I must pawne this groat, or there the fellow must lye still. Quoth the Tapster, If it please you, I will tend you an Angell on it, and I will assure you it shall bee safe. Wilt thou, quoth George? as thou art an honest man, locke it vp in thy Chest, and let me haue it whensoeuer I call for it. As I am an honest man, you shall, quoth the Tapster George deliuered him his groat: the Tapster gaue him ten shillings: to the Tauerne goe they with the money, and there merrily spend it. It fell out in a small time after, the Tapster, hauing many of these lurches, fell to decay, and indeede was turned out of seruice, hauing no more coine in the world then this groat; and in this misery, hee met George, as poore as himselfe. O Sir, quoth the Tapster, you are happily met; I haue your groat safe, though since I saw you last, I haue bid great extremitie: and I protest, saue that groat, I haue not any one penny in the world; therefore I pray you Sir, helpe me to my money, and take your pawne. Not for the world, quoth George: thou saist thou hast but that groat in the world: my bargaine was, that thou shouldst keepe that groat vntill I did demand it of thee: I aske thee none: I will doe thee farre more good: because thou art an honest fellow, kéepe thou that groat still, till I call for it : and so doing, the proudest Iacke in England cannot iustifie that thou art not worth a groat, otherwise they might: and so, honest Michael, farewell. So George leaues the poore Tapster picking of his fingers, his head full of proclamations what he might doe: at last sighing, hee ends with this Prouerbe:
How George serued a Gentlewoman.
GEorge, vsed often to an Ordnarie in this Towne, where a kinswoman of the good wifes in the house held a great pride and vaine opinion of her owne mother wit: for her tongue was as a Iacke continually wagging: and for she had heard that George was a Scholler, the thought she would finde a time to giue him notice, that shee had as much in her head, as euer was in her Grandfathers: yet in some things she differed from the women in those dayes; for their naturall complexion was their beauty: now this Titmouse, what she is stanted by nature, she doth replenish by Art: as her boxes of red and white daily can testifie. But to come to George, who arriued at the Ordnary among other Gallants, throwes his Cloake vpon the Table, salutes the Gentlemen, and presently calls for a cup of Canarie. George had a paire of Hose on, that for some offence durst not bee seene in that hue they were first dyed in, but from his first colour, being a youthfull gréene, his long age turned him into a mournfull blacke, and for his antiquitie was in print: which this busie-body perceiuing, thought now to giue it him to the quicke: and drawing neere Master Peele, looking vpon his Bréeches: By my troth, Sir, quoth she, these are exceedingly well printed. At which word George being a little moued in his mind, that his old hose were called in question, answered, And by my faith, Mistris, quoth George, your face is most danmably ill painted. How meane you, Sir, quoth she? Marry thus, Mistris, [Page 30] quoth George, That if it were not for printing and painting, my arse and your face would grow out of reparations. At which she biting her lIp, in a parat furie went downe the stayres. The Gentlemen laughed at the sudden answer of George, and being seated to dinner: the Gentlemen would needs haue the company of this witty Gentlewoman to dyne with them; who with little denying came, in hope to cry quittance with George. When she was ascended, the Gentlemen would needs place her by M. Peele; because they did vse to dart one at another, they thought it méete, for their more safety, they should be placed neerest together. George kindly entertaines her: and being seated, he desires her to reach him the Capon that stood by her, and he would be so bold as to carue for his money: and as she put out her arme to take the Capon, George sitting by her, yerkes me out a huge fart, which made all the company in amaze, one looking vpon the other: yet they knew it came that way. Peace, quoth George, and iogs her on the elbow, I will say it was I. At which all the Company fell into a huge laughter, shee into a fretting fury, vowing neuer she should sleepe quietly, till she was reuenged of George his wrong done unto her: and so in a great chase left their company.