A MERRIE DIALOGVE BE­TVVIXT THE TAKER and Mistaker.

Imprinted at London for Iames Shaw, and are to be sold at his shop neare Lud-gate. 1603.

TO MY VERIE LOVING, AND APPRO­VED GOOD FRIEND, THE LOVER OF ALL VERTVES AND labourer in good studies, Signor Iohn Florio, per­ fect Reader of the Italian language, Nicholas Breton wisheth, worthy aduancement of many good de­ serts, encrease of comforts, and eter­nall happinesse.

VNthankfulnesse is too great an vnkindnesse to come neare the nature of any good disposition; and ther­fore, to auoide the desert of so ill a Touch, to mani­fest my good will in more desire then abili­ty, I haue giuen you a token of my loue, in a litle fruit of my labour: wherein if I be not mistaken in my conceipt, you shall find somewhat worth the taking view of. The Dialogue is not tedious, nor the matter so serious, but it may passe the musters of a merry humor: wherein the Taker shall find [Page] how he may be mistaken, and the Mistaker, how he may be taken. My hope is you will take all in good part, and smile at them that are so mistaken in their wits, that they know not well, what to take well. But lest I take too long a time, in troubling you with a longer preface, then either the matter requireth, or your patience will admit: with many thankes for your many vndeserued kind passages (of which, I haue taken such remembrance, as I hope shal one day be better considered) lea­uing my booke to your kind patro­nage, and my loue to your like employment; I rest al­wayes

Your affectionate poore friend, Nicholas Breton.

To the Reader.

IF I be not mistaken, there are many Takers & Mistakers in this world, who take themselues to be wise with a litle wit, & rich with a litle welth. Some are taken for religious, that with their hipocrisie cousin a num­ber of simple people: other are taken for good men, that haue a litle more wealth then honestie: and some are taken for fooles, that haue more conscience then cunning: but happie are they, who take the right course to their soules comfort. In this discourse following, you shall see diuerse pretie passages betwixt the Taker and the Mistaker, perhaps as pleasing for the mirth, as prof [...]ble for the matter. Now how euery one will take it, I know not. The best mindes I know will take nothing ill, that is meant well; and for the worst, they know not how to take any thing well, how good so ere it be: and therfore intrea­ting euery man to take it as he list, lest I should be behol­ding to I know not whom for I know not what, I leaue to the Printer to take his price, and you to take your pleasure; and so rest

Your friend, if I be not mistaken, NICHOLAS BRETON.

A merrie Dialogue betwixt two Trauellers. Dorindo, and Lorenzo.

LORENZO well met, how doest thou this faire morning?

Lor.

A thousand good morrowes to mine honest Dorindo: but how goes the world man? no newes stirring worth the hearing?

Dor.

More then are true, or worth the telling: and therefore I had as leeue hold my peace, as haue no thankes for my tat­ling: but I pray thee tell me, where hast thou bene this many a day? I heard that thou hast bene ouer the water, I know not how farre.

Lor.

Indeed the sea is a pretie brooke to wade thorough, and a yeares trauell will treade a pretie peece of ground: but to tell you where I haue bene, I cannot; for my way was long, and my memorie is short: but had I time to tell thee that which I could, (at least if my memorie would serue me) I should make thee like the better of home, and the worse of trauell while thou liuest.

Dor.

And why, I pray thee?

Lor.

It is not so soone answered, but rather let me say, why not? For much daunger, and more feare, litle safetie and lesse gaine, made me wish either to haue knowne lesse, or somwhat more worth [Page 2] the knowing.

Lor.

I pray thee why? were thine eyes not matches, or thy wits out of order?

Dor.

Truely whether the fault be in my wits, or mine eyes, I know not: but I am sure I was so ouertaken in mista­king of euery match that I met withall, that I had as leeue almost be an Ignorant, as deceiue my selfe with imagination.

Lor.

True, for as good to lose thoughts, as to lose by them: but whence or whereupon grew this griefe of yours?

Dor.

I tell you by mistaking.

Lor.

But how I pray you?

Dor.

Why, the first thing that I was mistaken in, was my selfe: in whome I was the most mistaken of any thing in the world. For, with onely a litle obseruation, I was perswaded, that there was no matter of woorth, but I had it by heart; and for trifles, I wold not be troubled with them: but, whē that reason came to ripping vp of the secrets of wis­domes intelligence, I saw my wit so wilfull, that I was mistaken in all matters that I met with.

Lor.

What, men, women and children?

Dor.

Yea, onely in them: for touching other creatures, I made no great care of my conceipt of them. But now to tell thee, in my tra­uels how I was mistaken: to runne ouer all my cour­ses, it were too tedious, let suffice as much as may make thee mery to heare, and wise to remember. First, when I left my countrie and came a boord the Buon-à-ven­ture, we had no sooner weighed anker, hoissed sailes, and put to sea, but with a fresh gale of wind, and faire weather, we were so merie aboue hatches, that me thought there was none so merie aliue as the saylers. But we had not thus passed fiue leagues, till the skie was ouercast, the wind came about and grew high, the aire thicke and foggie, and the drizling raine came so [Page 3] beating in our faces, that we were glad to get vnder hatches: where we were scarcely set in our Cabines, but the tempest grew so great, the winds so rough, and the waues so high, that we were glad with throw­ing out almost all the goods into the sea, to saue our liues in the bare vessell. Now when I came on shore, well moiled and poore, hauing lost all that I had a­bord, more then a litle mony in my purse, which was so litle, as that I will say litle of it: I beganne to thinke with my selfe how I was mistaken, to thinke, that one faire day, and a litle faire weather, could make me think, that the saylers life (which euery minute is sub­iect to daunger of one harme or other, and betwixt a bord and the water, hath a walke, but in a short and vnsteadie roome) should be compared to the land life, where there is pleasure in the faire weather, and shilter against the foule, and no feare of wind nor wa­ter, nor many other daungers which I will omit to speake of. And in steade of a whirle poole in the wa­ter, a walke large enough to walke man and horse too, till they were both wearie. Nowe here was my first mistaking.

Lor.

It may be, if the weather had held faire, and that you had met with a good prize, you would not haue thought your selfe mistaken in the merie life of the mariner.

Dor.

Indeed sometime the ioy of taking, helpes the miserie of mistaking.

Lor.

Yea, but when the theefe that hath taken a purse, if he be ouertaken in the high way, and so take the gallowes for his Inne, that ioyfull taking in the beginning brings a sorrowfull mistaking in the end.

Dor.

Well, as for that part, it is none of my play, and therefore I will leaue it to them that loue it.

[Page 4]Now to tell thee of my second mistaking. When I had bene a litle on shore, had weathered my selfe, dried my clothes, filled my belly, and emptied my purse, I now beganne to thinke how my wits should worke for my welfare: and first, intending to seeke in­tertainment of some Noble person, that would ho­nourably looke into the vertues, valour, and good qualities of a good mind, I began to put on a resolu­tion to aduenture any fortune, and indure any dis­comfort, that might be a hinderance to my happines. And with this resolution trauelling till I was wearie, almost penilesse, and exceedingly hungrie, I came to the view of a goodly, faire, & gorgeously built house, which stood as it were a mile from a citie neare adioy­ning. Now in hope there to find some such person, as I before spake of, I began to rowze vp my selfe, as one that had an assured hope, at least of some good victu­all, I meane of a good dinner scot-free, howsoeuer o­therwise fortune would be my friend. When, ere I would approach too neare the house, lest I should be seene in any vnfit manner, I combed my beard, garte­red vp my stockings, trussed euery point, buttoned e­uery button, and made my selfe readie in the best ma­ner I could, to appeare before the presence of such as I should meete withall in this gallant mansion. But when I came neare vnto the house, and finding the doore shut, I did imagine (being about the mid time of the day) that the seruants were all at dinner, and the lord of the house either laid downe to sleepe, or gone into his closet, to talke vpon some accounts with his ladie: but hearing no sound of any noise, nor voice within of either man or dogge, I feared some ill for­tune, [Page 5] that there was some great sicknesse, or daunger of death that might dampe the spirits, and so cause the sorrow of the whole house: but staying awhile, and neither hearing any voice within, nor any poore crea­ture without at the gate, that might hope of almes from the hall, I feared the charitie within was so litle, that my comfort without would be according: but af­ter that I had stood awhile, loth to lose time, I knoc­ked at the doore; where I knocked long, before I had any answer, and in the end was saluted at a windowe farre within by an old fellow, who it should seeme, to saue a groat had slept out his dinner; whose speech (with a wide mouth gaped out) was this: What lacke you? My friend (quoth I) I pray you let me speake with you. No (quoth he) I cannot come downe, I am busie, my maister is not at home, and here is no bodie in the house but I and my wife, and she is not well: but say your errand and I will heare you. My errand thought I, was there euer such a kennell for such a curre? doth he take me for some sorie fellow, or hath he no better kind of greeting for strangers? And thus while I stood musing and fretting at my fortune and this bad fellow, he shut the window: and I with a sigh, to see how I was mistaken in this faire house, tur­ning me from it, I met with a foole in a pyed coate, who looking vpon me after he had ouerlaughed him­selfe, told me: Sir, you are mistaken, this is a banquet­ting house, where the gazers are onely fed with con­ceipts, for there is not a chimney that smokes, nor a doore open, it is called Mock-begger, ha, ha, ha. Now when the foole went thus laughing away, and left me more foole to tarie there. Before I stirred my foote, [Page 6] out of my pocket I tooke my table booke, in which I writ downe my second mistaking.

Lor.

Indeed this is too common a mistaking in many countries, but it may be you might haue taken it in such a time, as might haue giuen you cause to haue spoken better of it: but indeed faire houses are for rich men, and cotta­ges for the poore: and therefore being in that predica­ment, it is no maruell you had no better entertaine­ment. But I pray you proceed with your trauell.

Dor.

I will tell you, melancholy walking a litle from this Mocke-begger, I began to frame my selfe to the humour of a cunning begger: when meeting with a graue old man (who by his veluet coate, his golden chaine, and his rich furred gowne should seeme to be at the least some rich Burgor, if not some Burga-maister of some city) this well apparelled pi­cture with a kind of life that gaue the body leaue to cary the head vpon a square paire of shouldiers, I in hope to find more comfortable then the faire house maister Mocke-begger, I saluted with a great reue­rence; & requited with a proud nod, I yet aduentu­red to bord with a few words. When hoping to haue found him a man of no lesse vnderstanding spirit, to iudge of the estate and conditions of men, then bounty, in the reliefe of the vnfortunatly distressed, I fell aboord with him with these words. Sir, I thinke you haue heard of the hard fortune of the Buon-a­uenture, who put into your harbor this other night, hardly sauing her life, with losse of all her goods, and some of her peoole. My selfe, with much ado well weather-beaten as you may see, with some few that lie sicke in the hauen, got to shore, and am [Page 7] now trauelling towards your city here before me. Loth I am to enter into any base course for my com­fort: but, if I might be beholding to your good fa­uour, in this time of my distresse, giuing me your name withall, I doubt not if I liue, but either by my selfe, or my better friends, to find a time, either to re­quite or deserue it. He, as one whose heart was so shut vp in his purse, that he vnderstood nothing but ware and money, after a harsh humme, or two, gaue me this answer: Was there nothing saued of her goods I pray you? what was her fraught? Sit, quoth I, it was most silkes and spices, but some pearle, and money, more then would haue bene willingly lost. Good commodities, quoth he; by my fay, a shrewd mischance: I am sory for ye, I would I could do ye good, but I am now in hast going about a litle busi­nesse, and therefore I cannot stand to talke with you, God be with you; the towne is hard before you, you will be there anon: But, if you haue any iewels or pearle that you haue saued, I will giue you mony for it, if I like it. Truly Sir, quoth I, iewels I haue not many, onely two rings on my fingers, and this brace­let of pearle I haue saued: my bracelet cost me a hun­dreth crownes, if it please you to haue it of the price it cost, though against my will, I will part with it. With that vpon his bottel red nose he claps on a paire of spectacles, and looking on my pearle, found fault with the roundnesse, and the clearenesse, and I know not what else, till at the last, thinking to make a gaine of my misery, he offered me ten crownes: saying, that he had no need of it; but rather then be disfurni­shed of mony (being a stranger) he would aduenture [Page 8] so much on it: whereat, I swallowing a sigh, and concealing my discontent, desired him to pardon me, I hoped to find some of my countrimen in the city, that I would be as bold, as I might withall. Thus, with an idle word or two, did I leaue this good old gentleman, in whom how much I was, and ma­ny moe, no doubt, haue bene mistaken, I referre to the iudgement of those that can spell him without booke, & may desire neuer to come neare him within booke. This was my third mistaking: to take the sha­dow of a man, and the substance of a money-bagge, without charity, or humanitie, by the hypocriticall figure of grauitie, to be a creature of vnderstanding, a man of honour, and a blessed relieuer of the mise­rable.

Lor.

Alas how many thousands are so mista­ken? Why, the blessed Saints holinesse, the Mar­tyrs faithfulnesse, the Virgines purenesse, and the prayers of the elect, I haue heard, and read of: but I neuer heard of any rich apparell, or chaines spoken of among them; for God blesse vs from it, some say the diuell hath a chaine wherein he leades a number into hell; but I hope it is not gold. I know not that, but I thinke not, for murtherers hang in iron chaines, and therfore he wil not be at cost with them, all alike: but how he doth with the couetous, the lecherous, and the ambitious, that knoweth God and not I. But shall I tell you further of my mistakings.

Lor.

Yes, for Gods sake.

Dor.

Then let me tell you.

Lor.

I had scarcely got within the gates of the city, but that it was my hap to meete with a countrey man of mine owne, and somewhat of alliance vnto me. This man at first seeming to be glad to haue met me in that city, [Page 9] promising me to bring me accquainted with some o­ther of my country men, and that he would be ready to do me all the pleasure he could: this did not a litle content me, hoping that for countrey, and kindreds sake, I should find no litle friendship. But after that he had made me know three or foure of my country men, and brought me to an Inne, where for my mo­ny I might lodge, neither inuiting me to dinner or supper, onely was content to take a cup of wine of me, and to tell me that he hoped to drinke with me before my going out of towne: thus was I mistaken both in kin and countrey, to hope of any comfort. But the next morning comming to a tailors house (which was likewise a countrey man of mine) I had no sooner talked with the good man, about the paw­ning of my bracelet, and taking vp of some stuffe for my apparell, but his wife in an inner roome, al­most as quicke of eare as of tongue, with a wide ga­ping mouth came to vs with this greeting: Go too, goodman-goose, meddle with no pawning nor ta­king vp, you haue payed inough for playing the Foole, and yet will be an Asse still? I pray you wife quoth he, be quiet: and then to me, Truly gentleman, I would be glad to do you any pleasure, but I haue such a wife that I dare do nothing without her con­sent: if you bring your stuffe I will do it you, as well and as good cheape as any man. Now, I that tooke him to haue bene the maister of the house, was much mistaken, for the woman ware the breeches, and he was to worke for the house: when pitying the poore mans case, and much commending his patience, sory to thinke how I was mistaken, I tooke another course [Page 10] for my contentment. I was not long in towne before I had learned how to turne pearle into gold, and gold into siluer, and so to furnish my selfe of such necessa­ries, as I found most fitting for my vse: when there passed not many dayes before I fell vpon another fortune, where I was as I was still in euery thing mi­staken.

Lor.

I pray you tell it, we haue time inough, and I long to heare it.

Dor.

I will tell you.

It was my hap after that I had done my deuotion in the Church, and holy places, passing through the streetes, beholding as well the faire houses, as sweete creatures at their doores and windowes; to cast mine eye vpon a very artificiall faire, sharpe wit­ted, wanton eyed, and faire handed, small footed, straight bodied, and, as I after found, smooth toun­ged gentlewoman: I say gentle, for she was so gentle, that she was as tame, as a litle filly, that had bene brought vp al by hand. This fine mistresse, I had some hope to do some good vpon, when setting a good face on the matter, after a courteous salutation I fell to kissing of her hand: which she endured with such a pleasing smile, as gaue me cause to proceed further in my purpose. I had not so soone beganne to go about her, but she had me at euery turne, and in the midst of my talk wold be fidling with a ring, in which was a painted diamond, that I ware on my finger, which she would commend with wishing her hand worthie such a fauour. Now I that hoped to haue found so gallant a wench, as francke handed, as free hearted, and as liberall for loue, as ready for enter­tainement, found that artificiall beauty, was but a shadow, or rather couer of couetousnesse, or an in­strument [Page 11] of wit, to draw on folly, into the ruine of prodigality: so that, here I found my selfe so mista­ken, that it made me afraid a long while after, to be busie with the female kind.

Lor.

In truth this was a prety mistaking: but if she had bene for you, and would haue mistaken you for her husband, by whom you might craftily haue bene taken, and so bene ca­ried to Bride-well, or payed for your pardon; what a taking would you then haue bin in?

Dor.

I know not, but tis better, as it was: for as I found it, so I left it. I on­ly spent a few faire words, but not a peny mony, for I would not pay for my repentance: but so leauing her, as I found her, with a Bazo los manus, went about my other businesse: which I had not long followed, but I fell vpon another mistaking.

Lor.

What may that be, if you can remember?

Dor.

I will tell you.

It was my hap to heare of a gallant Captaine that was to do a peece of seruice vpon a citie of the Turks, vnder whom who could get entertainement, might quickly purchase both honor and wealth. Now, my youth being trained vp in armes, and my fortune falling vpon such a point, it was not long before I made and got meanes of entertainement at the hands of this gallant souldier, of whom I hoped to receiue the due of my desert: but after that he had in many desperate peeces of seruice employed me, and saw in me that true valour, that made him in the enuie of my good deserts, feare some neare pressing towards his pride, in stead of aduancing my fortune, or rewarding my seruice, he still put me vpon such continuall exploits, as threatned euerie houre narow escape of my life. But in the end seeing his miserie, to [Page 12] make a gaine of those that did him honor, handfasted to the well deseruing, and rather plotting the death, then aduancing the fortunes of the valiant, got meanes for my discharge from him; and sory to think how I was mistaken in him, as I tell you, I left him: when I had not gone farre, but I light vpon another mistaking.

Lor.

And how I pray thee? if it be not troublesome to thee to recite it, I pray thee let me heare it.

Dor.

You shall.

The mistaking of a Diuine.

It was my hap in a litle field neare vnto a Church in a countrey towne, to ouertake a litle old man in agowne, a wide kassock, a night-cap, and a corner­cap, by his habite seeming to be a Diuine; of whom I was in hope to find that sacred fruit of charity, that might be some comfort in my returne: whom begin­ning to salute with a few Latine words: My friend, quoth he, do not deceiue your selfe, I vnderstand not your Greeke. We here, that dwell farre from the citie, and are not troubled with fine eares to our rea­ding, care for no more but to discharge our duties in our places, I meane of a Vicar, for I am no better: the Parson is a man of greater place, and of faire posses­sions, who dwelleth a great way hence, and therefore seldome comes into this countrey. I vse twise a yeare to bring him his rent, and perhaps a couple of Ca­pons against Christmusse, for my Land-lady, and that is as much as they look for. And for my parishio­ners, they are a kind of people, that loue a pot of Ale better then a Pulpit, and a corne-ricke better then a [Page 13] Church-doore: who comming to diuine seruice, more for fashion then deuotion, are contented after a litle capping and kneeling, coughing and spetting, to helpe me to sing out a Psalme, and sleepe at the se­cond Lesson, or awake to stand vp at the Gospell, and say Amen at The peace of God; and stay till the Banes of matrimonie be asked, or till the Clarke haue cryed a pyed stray bullocke, a blacke sheepe or a gray mare: and then, for that some dwell farre off, be glad to be gotten home to dinner. Now we that haue no more liuing then will hardly serue to keepe a poore house, are not in case, God helpe vs, to do any thing for our poore brethren; and therfore my good friend trouble vs not with other speech then we vnderstand, lest if you come afore the Constable, he take you for some coniurer, and so bring your selfe to some trou­ble, which I would be sorie to see: for truly you seeme a handsom man; God hath done his part in you: God be with you. Oh Lord (thought I) is this man possi­ble to be a Church-man, and knoweth so litle what belongeth to the Church? Well, this was no litle mi­staking: but going a litle further, leauing this poore Sir Ienkin to his mother tongue, I ouertooke a plaine fellowe to my seeming, clad in a home-spun ierkin of russet wooll, a paire of close breeches of the same, a falling band somewhat courser then fine Cambricke, a payre of wollen stockings, and a halfe boote, like a good high shooe. Now, this plaine outside, I guessed to be lined with no excellent stuffe in the inside: and therefore somewhat more boldly then rudely saluted him in this manner: Good fel­low, well ouertaken. You are welcome, quoth he: but [Page 14] to clappe a man on the shoulder before you knowe him, is a point quite out of the rule of all good manners, at least that euer I learned. Alas, quoth I, goodman clowne, can your nose abide no ieast: Yes Sir, quoth he, with my friends; but mine eares haue no pleasure in a foole. This touching me too neare the quicke, replyed againe: Oh sir, quoth I, then if your friends be fooles, you will shake hands with thē; but a straunger will put you out of patience. He litle moued herewith, (as it seemed) made me this answer: My friend, I pray you keepe your way, I would be loth to hinder your walke: but if your passion be no greater then my impatience, we shall not fall out for a trifle. But Sir (quoth I) how might I fall in ei­ther with your selfe, or such another, for a matter of good earnest? It seemes you are a man of sence, and had I not giuen you cause of displeasure which I am sorie for, I wold haue acquainted you with somwhat, that by your good means, I might perhaps be the bet­ter for. Truly sir, quoth he, my estate is not such as can make me bountifull to the best deseruing; but so farre as discretion will giue me leaue, I would be glad to pleasure a stranger. My house is not far hence, but on the further side of this field; whither (if it may be no great hinderance to your trauell) I wil intreat your pa­tience to a pore pittance, and if in either my aduise, or better meanes I may stead your desire, you shall find that you do not looke for; nothing that you shall pay for; and somewhat that perhaps you shall thanke me for: and therefore, I pray you beare me companie for this night; to morrow you shall take your iourney at your pleasure. This kind offer (hauing no reason [Page 15] to refuse) I tooke most thankefully: and by the way after a few discourses of my fortunes, I acquainted him with the resolution of my intent; which was, either to serue in the warres, or in Court, or to pro­fesse some trade, or to followe my studie. To which, I asked his aduice for my good, in all and euery one of them: to which, as I propounded the question, he made me this aunswer. And first, quoth he, my friend, I am sorie, by these your discourses, to haue occasion to call to mind the folly of my youth, which taught me nothing in mine age, but the repen­tance of lost time: but for that I haue tried fortune to the vttermost of her malice, and in the end am come to that you see, I would be glad to tell you a merrie tale, how I was mistaken in many courses, before I hit on the right compasse: in which, if you can gather any thing for your good, I shall thinke it the best gaine that I haue made of it. Now finding this vnlooked for and vndeserued kindnesse at his handes, and nothing more fitting the humour of my fortune at that time, I intreated him most heartily, to make me in this first to be beholding to him. Whereupon, with a very li­tle preamble he fell into this plaine trot: I will tel you, quoth he, when I was yong as you are, and had as litle to care for as you haue, being broght vp at home with ease and plentie, and wearie of welfare, would faine haue I know not what, when hauing the world more at will, then wit to gouerne my affections, and a desire to see more then I could well carie away, thinking my mothers best creame but bare milke; and others thin­nest milke, as good creame as might make butter; ta­king leaue of no friend, and flattering my thoughts [Page 16] with fortune, I would to sea forsooth, with a sight of such spirits, as (but that they looked like men) would haue made poore people affraid of them: yet these were the men with whom (in more hast then good speed) I must go lose abroade what I had gotten at home. When, hoping to haue light on some good prize, I was taken prisoner with the enemie: of whom being stript of that I had, with a few old ragges on my backe, among a few of my fellow sailers that were set on shore in a poore taking, I found how I began to be mistaken; to leaue the land for the sea, and a safe home for a straunge harbour. But now on shore with my good fellowes in fortune, euery man shifting for him­selfe, and I trying so many waies to the wood, that I lost my selfe in the plaine, wearie of doing nothing, began to look about me for my better profit: but such were my crosses in all my courses, that I could neuer thriue till I got home againe. For to make an abridge­ment of a long tale, I will tel you: In courting I found more cost then comfort; in warre, more danger then ease; in learning, more studie then profit; in trafficke, more gaine then conscience; in seruice, more paine then honour; in mariage, more care then quiet; and in loue, more pleasure then vertue: so that in all my courses being so mistaken, that I found a crosse to my comfort in euery of them, I fairely left the Courtier to his curtesies, the souldier to his marches, the scho­ler to his studies, the merchaut to his trafficke, the ma­ried man to his purgatorie, and the louer to his vanity: and home returned to my poore cottage that my pa­rents left me; and, as my wife tels me, my sonnes shall possesse after me. Here I liue in a meane course, con­tent [Page 17] and glad of Gods blessings, neuer in daunger to be mistaken, because I trust only to experience: while doing honour to God, and following my businesse, with the sweate of my browes, I gaine the foode of my senses, with my necessarie appurtenances. O my friend, beleeue me, he that is contented is rich, while he that is rich is not contented: a litle sufficeth nature, and excesse is but hurtfull; beautie, but the inchaun­ter of wit; ambition, but the ouerthrow of vertue; co­uetousnesse, the corrupter of conscience; authoritie, the charge of care; pride, the hate of nature; enuie, the nurse of malice, and wrath, the inuenter of murther; sloth, the losse of time; drunkennesse, the shame of na­ture; gluttonie, the ground of sicknesse; and locherie, the fire of sinne. These notes when I had taken by the light of Gods grace, and obseruation of times, leauing all extremities, I tooke this meane course: where though home be homely, yet liuing quietly and con­tentedly, I find it true, That he who serueth God har­tily, liueth happily, and dieth ioyfully. Now my good friend, if I might aduise you for your good, I would wish you to take a stayed course, and lay away all run­ning humours: looke home, loue home, liue at home, a small assurance is better then a great hope; and a litle possession, then a great possibilitie: and when a man hath of his owne, he neede not borrow of his neigh­bours. Trauell may be pleasing, and seruice hopefull, trafficke gainefull, and wealth powerfull: but a conue­nient house, an honest patrimonie, a kind wife, obedi­ent children, faithfull seruants, and louing neighbors, make such a commonwealth of contentment in the true conceipt of a carefull vnderstanding; that a king [Page 18] of a mole-hill, were better then a lord of a great hutch. Oh, to see in a faire morning, or a Sunnie euening, the lambes and rabbets runne at bace, the birds billing, the fishes playing, and the flowers budding, who would not leaue the drinking in an ale-house, the wrangling in a dicing house, the lying in a market, and the cheating in a faire; and thinke that the brightnesse of a faire day, doth put downe all the beauties of the world. But I doubt I grow tedious, and therefore be­ing so neare home, I will intreat your patience till we haue supped, and only assure you of a good welcom, to supply the want of better cheare. With this brea­king off his talke, he tooke me by the hand and led me into his house, the doore open, as vnfearefull of theeues, or vnprouided for strangers: where we were at the entry saluted with a modest smile of a kind wife, humble courtesies of most sweet children, due reue­rence of comely seruants, and a table furnished for both the host & a good guest. Here (though no inne) yet I tooke vp my lodging; where with the entertain­ment of much kindnesse, hauing fed both bodie and mind with sufficient comforts, with due thankes for al curtesies, I tooke leaue of the whole familie, of whom in generall I receiued kindnesse. In the morning not too early, receiuing an extraordinarie golden fauour, for a friendly farewell, calling to mind his discourses of mistaking, and noting mine owne crosses in my courses: I tooke his counsell for my comfort, and with as much speed as I could, leauing my trauell turned e­uen faire home again.

And thus much for this time of my trauell. Now what say you of yours? for I am sure you haue not liued alwaies at home.

Lor.

Oh fine tale, [Page 19] you were the best mistaken in that man of all other: for, where you hoped well of other, you found the contrarie; but of him you thought but litle, and found much good. But it is no rare thing: for a man may looke like an owle, that hath more wit then ten asses; and a woman may bride it like a maide, that hath bene the mother of many children. A king in a play may be a begger from the stage, & a clowted shoo may haue a pate beyond all the parish. Oh, take heed of a wolfe in a lambes skinne, and talke not of hawking, till you haue bene a Faulconer: for if a man haue not his fiue wits, he may be a foole in foure of them. But, lest you take my words for a lecture, which may be more te­dious then pleasing, I will a litle tell you of my trauel, and how I was taken in euery corner.

Dor.

Yea Sir, now you speake somewhat to the matter. If your ta­king were like my mistaking, then perhaps we should shake hands for our fortunes. But howsoeuer it was, I pray you make me acquainted with it.

Lor.

I will, and first you shall vnderstand, that my first trauell being crosse the seas, I was taken short of my course, and by straunge people caried to a strange place: where being taken for no worse then I was, I was vsed no better thē I should be. But after that I had got out of this taking, I foorth with fell to deuise with my selfe, what course I should take for my comfort. And first I would take vpon me to be a Courtier, when I would be so gay, as if honour attended vpon colours: but wise men ta­king me as I then was, but a foole, brought me into such a taking; that what with loue, and what with so­row, I tooke such passions, as brought me to a weake taking. And yet I was taken among the best for an ho­nest [Page 20] man, and a wel meaning. But in taking my court­ly course, my word was so taken in euery corner, and my name so taken in euery booke, that I grew so afraid of takers, that I durst not almost go into any place for feare of taking. And to thinke of the sundrie kinds of taking, it is strange to thinke, that any one should be taken vp, and taken downe so many waies as I was. If I but courted a wench, I was taken for a wencher; if I talked merily, I was taken for a iester; if I looked sad­ly, I was takē for a spie; if I were liberal, for a prodigall; if thriftie, for a snudge; if valiant, a quareller; if patient, a coward; if rich, wise; if poore, a foole: so that they, who knew not how to take any thing as it should be, tooke me to be any thing that they would haue me to be. But this was not enough: for if I gaue my word, I was taken for a suretie; if I brake it, I was taken for a banck-rupt; if I kept it, I was taken for a silly fellow; if I talked of a disease, I was taken for a Phisitian; if of a case, a Lawyer; if of armes, a Captaine; if of religi­on, at least a Doctor: so that (as I said before) I was ta­ken so many waies, that I knew not well which way to take my selfe. But beyond all these, not onely my selfe was thus taken to be this and that: but my horse was takē post, my purse was taken prisoner, my word was taken hold of; and what was I, or had I, but was either taken vp or downe: my horse was taken vp, my purse was taken downe; my word was taken vp, my mind was taken downe: in briefe, you could not be more mistaken in any thing, then I was taken for eue­ry thing. But lest you should think I would chop Lo­gicke with you, or thinke much of my breath in tel­ling of a long tale, I will tell you, how I had like to [Page 21] haue bene taken napping. Going to an Ordinarie to dinner with a friend of mine, who had bene with me at the taking vp of a litle money, no sooner we were entred into the house and scarce set downe to a table, short aboue an houre for couering towards supper, but we were taken vp for a rest at Primero: when be­ing taken for a gamester, I had the tricke put vpon me; which no sooner I espied, but hauing got a small rest or two, faining an vrgent businesse, I tooke occasion to leaue off; for which cause I was taken for a cheater. Which fitting some of that place, who taking me for a fine fin-gred companion, fel a bord with me for assi­stance and aduise, so farre that at last, in an assurance of my fidelitie to them, and villanie to all the world besides, they put a sum of money into my hands to go to play with. Which money I no sooner was mai­ster of, but the wind seruing well, and I in readinesse to be gone, in the still time of the night, got means to ship my selfe for Roane: where being a straunger, I was to take what course I well could for my cōfort. Where no sooner I was arriued, but I smiled to thinke how I had ouertooke my takers. Now comming to Roane, and finding diseases so rife, that an honest Phisitian might set his Apothecarie well on worke, I made a shew with a litle Allume and Copresse, to perswade such wonders of my art or studie; that who would not giue me a good fee for a sore finger? Oh, healing but a Whitloe on a Lords thumbe, and the crampe in a Ladies finger, I went for the cunning man, that had a cure for all diseases. So that there was not a young wench that would haue a child; a young man that was weake stomacked; an old sir that was deafe [Page 22] nor an old Grandam blind; but would seek to me for remedie. By reason wherof, I came to the knowledge of some secrets, that made me sought to faire and neare. To be short, I was taken for such a Phisitian, that I tooke no litle profit of my patients. But lost my skill would be descryed, and so my profession discredit, I turned all my gettings into gold, which I shipt with my selfe for Antwerpe. But ill gotten, ill spent; ere I came halfe way ouer sea, I was taken prisoner by a py­rate, who after he had taken my goods, kept me in hold for my raunsome: which hauing payed, and got­ten away, take me euer after that what they would, I would take no profession vpon me; but taking the world as I could, I would thinke to vse it as I had rea­son. And thus much for my two first takings. Now, recouering my losses aswell as my wits and fortune would giue me leaue, I began to take an humour of loue, and by a litle eloquence and fine dissimulation, to go about (as I took her) a creature of more beautie then wit; and talke, then honestie. To be short, she was of the doubtfull gender, the common of two or three scores, or hundreds, I know not whether. Now, this idle-times mistresse I would haue a kind boute with­all, to see if my wit could helpe my purse in going be­yond the wiles of a woman: but while I stood gazing on her leering eyes, she so stole away my heart with a vaine affection, that to tell you trouth, I was taken in loue, and that so fast, as that to take hold of her kind­nesse, she tooke hold of my cost. For if she but spake of that she liked, if my purse could purchase it, she was sure to haue it: so that in a litle time, she tooke my kindnesse so kindly, that I was counted the kindest [Page 23] man (I will not say, foole) in the world. Oh, I was not onely so taken, but so ouertaken with this taking-mi­stresse, that she brought me into such a taking, as is scarce worth the talking of. Oh, mine eyes were so ta­ken with beautie, my heart with vanitie, my wits with folly, and my purse with prodigalitie; that had I not the sooner left this taker, I had left nothing for taking. Now sir, being thus wearie of my loue-taking, or my taking louer, I began to bethink me what course I were best to take for my comfort: when finding ma­ny malitious people, that could not liue quietly with their neighbours, spend much mony to litle purpose, and so feed the Lawyers with fees, that they left their purses without money: I began to thinke, that a litle studie in the law, would gaine much good in a com­monwealth. Wherupon, without much circumstance I got me into the formall outside of a iolly fellow; and for the better countenance to my credite, furnished my studie with more bookes, then I had either time to reade, or wit to vnderstand. When hauing gotten ac­quaintance with some setters for clients, rubbing ouer my poore French, hauing Litl [...]ton before me, and a booke of notes I know not of whose writing, I would set on such a counselling countenance, as if I had bin at the barre, before I know the hall: when, what with the multitude of clients and golden fees, I made such a gaine of my dissembling, that nere a Lawyer of my standing, but I caried it cleane from him, man and matter and all. In which pretie thriuing course, I had not continued long, but that being found by my lear­ning vnsit to pleade for a blacke pudding, I was taken for a p [...]tti-fogger, and not so good as a poore Clarke; [Page 24] so that my condition being found to be but a practiser with cunning, to trouble the quiet of honest people, for feare of being turned ouer the barre, I was faine to turne my compasse to another course. But to tell you, during the time of my profession, how honest a man I was taken among knaues, and how contrarie among honest men, I would be loth to haue notice taken: for indeed I was rather a bench-whistler, then a bencher; and more meete (for my good conscience) to be ar­raigned at the barre, then to pleade at a barre. But as I said before, lest I should be taken for that I truly was, I left that course, and tooke another inuention by the back. I got me into a countrie where I was vnknown, and there hoping that men that sought to win hea­uen by their good deedes, would surely enrich me with their charitie: I began to connterfeit a diseased creature, and seeming with the ruefull countenance that I could frame for the purpose, I would so moue the hearts, and picke the purses of kind people, that I doubted not in time to grow a wealthy begger. And with this inuention I went forward, till, after that I had so long followed my profession, that my benefa­ctors grew wearie of their liberalitie: it fell out by good, or ill hap rather, that I chaunced to beg of a very neat and handsome man, who seemed by his mild eye to haue a heart pitifull to the distressed. But he more cunning to prie into the knauery of my dissembling, then to cure me of my disease, if I had had any, asked me of my paine, and how long I had bene diseased. Which, when I had vntruly told him, he willed me to come home to him, and he would vndertake to heale me. Oh how glad I seemed of his kindnesse, and pro­mised [Page 25] to waite vpon him, with many humble thanks. But fearing this my vndertaker should so ouertake me in taking me napping in my knauerie, I fairely tooke my way out of the towne, and neuer came within the gates after. Thus was I almost ouertaken with a wa­ter, before I had made my fire burne halfe kindly. To be short, if I should tell you all the courses that I haue taken, and how I haue bene taken in euery of them, I should make you thinke all your mistaking but a trisle, in comparison of many a miserable taking that I haue bene in.

Dor.

Why man, so long as you neuer tooke any course so farre out of compasse, but you could guesse whereabouts you were; nor euer went so farre any way, but you could find the way home againe: let vs take hands together like good friends, and take all well that hath hit well, and warning by that hath falne amisse, to follow such a follie any further.

Lor.

You say well, but yet ere I make a full end, I will tell you how kindly I was entertained in a place, that by chaunce I tooke vp for my lodging; where being ta­ken as indeed I was, a man of more honestie then wit, and kindnesse then wealth: after good cheare and welcome, the good man of the house taking me aside, beganne to reade me this honest lesson: My friend, quoth he, for that I take you for a man of that good disposition, that will take any thing well that is well meant; let me tell you, there be many men in the world, that with mistaking the right course of discre­tion, [...]unne such wild courses as bring many of them into many pitifull takings. Some no sooner come to their land, but they take vp their rentes afore the day so long, that they are readie to make a newe [Page 26] taking for an old matter: other take money for leases, ere they knowe the value of their landes: other take money for their landes, ere they well knowe the Summarie of their rentes. All these are commonly taken prisoners, either with the heart-ach for want of money; or the heade-ach, for want of witte. And, for many of them, they are taken either with the begger, the theefe, the cheater, or the foole. Some when they haue nothing to take to, will take a wife to helpe forward a mischiefe, or mend an ill matter, but such a one may hap to take a wrong sow by the eare, that may bite him by the fingers for his labor: another perhaps takes vpon him to be a Phisitian, or a Sur­geon, and with a pill and a plaister, makes profession of great wonders. Now he with taking vpon him much skill, takes much money, and though for want of knowledge, or through crafty villany, he is deter­mined to make a gaine of his patient, he will one day giue him ease, and another day torment, as he finds the nature of his purse, in stead of his pulses. Now, is it not pitty, but that such a horse-leech were taken and hanged, that to make a gaine of griefe, will bring any Christian into such a taking?

Lor.

O Lord, is it possible, that there is any such creature in the world, that by so diuelish a nature will shew himselfe such a dog?

Dor.

Too many, but giue me leaue a litle. Some take vpon them to be Diuines, which only make the name of God a cloake for their knauerie: but those may rather be called lurch men, then Church-men, who is they are not troubled with much learning, so they [...] [...] more honest [...] then they may well away withall. But these who take eleuen for tenths, and yet [Page 27] can scarce reade any other names, then are written in their Easter bookes, is it not pitty, but their places were taken from them, and giuen to them that could and would take more carefull paines in them?

Lor.

I take it so: but there is such straunge takings and takers in the world, that, if God did not take the more mer­cy on them, surely the diuell would take away a great many of them: but let them go.

Dor.

There are o­ther that will take vpon them to be Lawyers: & these hauing scarce read a line of Littleton, onely acquain­ted with a common case, either in the masculine or the feminine gender, will set a solemne countenance vpon the matter, and taking money inough for fees, will bring poore clients into such a taking; that, if they perceiue not the sooner, how they are taken with the foole, they wil feele thēselues too late to be takē with the begger. Now, these kind of iniurious priuy pro­fessors of the Law will take of all hands in all matters, and when they are taken napping with the matter, they take small hearts-griefe at any punishment that doth befall them. Now, is it not pitty that such petty-foggers, as will pry into mens titles, pleade on both sides, and take all they can come by, were not taken from the barre, throwne ouer the barre, and barred for euer comming more at a bar?

Lor.

Yea, me thinkes it is a great scandall to the Law, that such an offendor of the Law, as so abaseth the Law, should not be more sharply punished by the Law.

Dor.

You say well, but let me tell you a little more of takers. There are other, that if they can write Item for a yeard of Satten, a halfe elle and quarter of Taffety, fold vp a peece of Grogeram, aske what lacke you, and sell an [Page 28] elle of Siprous, why he takes himselfe to be a Mer­chant, and that of no meane account in his parish. But let him be, if he can make a gaine of a countenance, he is worthy to liue by his wit: but, if he can take vp wares or mony vpon dayes, not caring for the pay­ment, till he haue enriched himselfe with other mens goods, and vpon a sudden take Lud-gate, and pay them with the banck-rupt; is it not pitty, but that he who so abuseth the credite of a Merchant, should be banished for euer comming more into the city?

Lor.

Alas, if a poore Gentleman breake day, in the pay­ment of forty shillings, the Sergeants will take him prisoner, and all the towne will take him for a shifter: but God blesse me out of such takings.

Dor.

Well, there are so many ill takers, that it is pitty there are no better orders taken with them, but let them go. Now there are some that take all that comes, till being taken napping, the hangman taketh order with their cloths. Other take another mans wife for their own, that be­ing taken with the matter, either fall into a pitifull ta­king for their knauery, or make their purses take order for their deliuery. All these with many more, are wic­ked courses to be taken. But to leaue all occasions of ill taking: take a good course, serue God, take a bit at home, rather then a banquet abroad, and water of thine owne, then wine of anothers: take account with thine estate for the defraying of thy charge, take no rent before the day, take no counsell with the wicked, take no pleasure in vanity, lest when you want that is necessary, you receiue comfort with sorow, or de­spaire in miserie: take not a wife without wealth, for it will helpe to hold loue; nor without wit, for there [Page 29] is no plague to a foole; nor without grace, for it is a hell to be iealous; nor without beauty, for there is no pleasure in deformity; nor without education, for a slut will be noisome, and a nouice idle; take her not too old for conscience sake, nor too young for thrifts sake; take knowledge of her, ere you loue her, lest if you be mistaken, you were better to be without her. And last of all, take heed of a whore, a paire of dice, a parasite, a pandor, a cheater, a flatterer, and a promo­ter. Take a Courtier for a fine man, a Lawyer for a wise man, a Souldier for a valiant man, a Diuine for a learned man, a Merchant for a rich man, a clowne for a painefull man, and a begger for a poore man: but for an honest man, take him as you find him, in what estate soeuer he be: If he be in a great one, giue him honour; if in a meane one, giue him praise. Now if you find wealth, valour, wisedome, learning, la­bour, and honesty, all in one man: note him for a rare man, and take him for the best man. But, because in many it falleth out, that wealth causeth pride; wit, cūning; learning, pollicy; valor, discord; paines, griefe; and pouerty, misery: take good notice of euery man that you haue to deale withall, and haue to doe with as few as you can. And for an end, if a good occasion may be taken, slip it not; if a good gift may be taken, refuse it not: and if you haue taken a good course, leaue it not. Take God for thy chiefe good, thy wit for thy seruant, thy wife for thy companion, and thy children for thy comfort: and what thou hast, take patiently and thankfully. So, shalt thou be sure at the count-taking of all the world, thou shalt be taken into the ioyes euerlasting. This rule was I taught to [Page 30] take by them, whom I iustly tooke, and truly sound my good friends. So my good friend, for that I take a [...] [...] a gratious disposition in you, that you will not take scorne of a small gift of a poore friend: let me intreate you to take your supper and lodging v­pon my charge, and this peece of gold towards the defraying of your further charges. Thus when I had thankfully taken his kind offer, and further had well taken to memory his good admonitions, I tooke my leaue of him, and according to his counsell tooke my way home againe: where, how happie I should hold my selfe to enioy your company, I shall make you know by that you find.

Dor.

Oh Sir, you haue got the start of me, it was the sute I meant to haue made to you: but since it is your fortune to be afore me, I am at your will to be disposed.

Dor.

Sir, complements are so common, that they be of small account, and therefore I will say but this: Chuse your owne time, and make your owne welcome.

Lor.

If I can re­quite you, I will not forget you, and let this suffice you: shortly I hope to see you, I will alwayes loue you, and wish I could euer be with you.

Dor.

What? shall we haue old aduerbes? As in absence you may see mee, so in silence you may heare me? I pray you beare me company home, and I will bring you halfe way backe againe.

Lor.

Indeed figures are good a­mong ciphers: but honest minds haue plaine toungs, and therefore not to detract time, I am at your direction.

Dor.

I thanke you: Let vs go.

FINIS.

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