[Page] LANTHORNE and Candle-light. OR, The Bell-Mans second Nights-walke.

In which He brings to light, a Brood of more strange Villanies then euer were till this yeare discouered.

—Decet nouisse malum, fecisse, nefandum.

The second edition, newly corrected and amended

[figure]

LONDON Printed for Iohn Busby, and are to be solde at his shop in Fleete­streete, in Saint Dunstanes Church-yard. 1609.

A table of all the matters, that are contained in this Booke▪

  • Chap. 1 Of O [...]nting.
  • Cap. 2
    • 1 What matters were tryed at a Tearme that was in Hell.
    • 2 The proceedings of that court
    • 3 A connsell held in Hell about the Bell-man.
    • 4 A messenger sent from thence, with instructions
  • Chap, 3 Of Gull-gro­ [...]ng.
    • How Gentlemen are cheated at Ordinaries
    • To furnish which feast, these Guests are bidden, viz.
      • The Leaders
      • The Forlorne Hope
      • The Eagle
      • The Wood-pecker
      • The Gull
      • The Gull-groper.
  • Cap: 4 Of Ferreting.
    • How Gentlemen are vndone by taking vp Commoditi [...]
    • Which Tragaedy hath these fiue acts, viz
      • A Tumbler
      • Pu [...]senetts
      • A Ferret
      • Ra [...]bet-suckers
      • A Warren.
  • Cap, 5 Of Hawking
    • How to catch Birdes by the Booke
    • Which is done with fiue Nets, viz.
      • A Falconer
      • A Lure
      • A Te [...]cell Gentle
      • A Bird
      • A Mongril [...]
  • Cap. 6 Of Iackes of the Clocke-house
  • Cap, 7 Of Ranek-Ryders
    • How Inne-keepers and Hackney men are sadled
    • To make whome goe a round pace, you must haue,
      • a colt
      • a snaffle
      • a Ring
      • Proua [...]der.
  • Cap, 8 Of Moone-men
  • Cap, 9 The infection of the suburbes.
  • Cap, 10 Of Iynglers
    • The Villanie of Horse-coursers
    • Who consist of
      • Iynglers
      • Drouers
      • Goade [...]
      • skip-Iackes.
  • Cap, 11 Of Iacke in a Box, or a new kinde of cheating, teaching how to change Golde into siluer, vnto which is added a Map, by which a man may learne how to Trauell all ouer England, & haue his charges borne.
  • Cap, 12 The Bel-mans second Nights vvalke, in vvhich hee mee [...]es vvith a number of Monsters that liue in Darkenesse.

To the verry worthy Gentleman Maister Francis Mustian of Peckam.

Sir.

IT may (happily) seeme strange vnto you, that such an army of Idle-words should march into the open field of the world vnder the Ensigne of your Name, (you beeing not therewith made acquainted till now▪ you may iudge it in me an Error, I my selfe confesse it a boldnesse. But such an ancient & strong Charter hath Custome confirmed to This Printing age of ours, (by giuing men authoritie to make choice of what Patrons they like,) that some Writers do almost nothing contrary to ye custome, and some by vertue of that Priuiledge, dare doe any thing. I am neither of that first order, nor of this last. The one is too fondly-ceremonious, the other too impudently audaci­ous I walk in the midst (so well as I can) betweene both: with some fruites that haue growne out of my Bra [...], haue I bin so farre from being in loue, that I thought them not worthy to be tasted by any particular friend & therefore haue they bin exposed only to those that would entertain them: neither did I thinke the Fairest that euer was Mine, so worthy, that it was to be lookd vpon with the Eye of vniuersal censure. Two sorts of mad-men trouble the stationers shops in Paul [...] Church-yard: they that out of a M [...]e and Idle vaine-glory will euer be Pam­p [...]ing (tho their bookes beeing printed are scarse worth so much Browne paper) and this is a very poore, and foolish ambi­tion: Of the other sort are they that beeing free of Wits Mer­ [...]hant-venturers, do euery new moon (for gaine onely) make 5. o [...] 6. voiages to the Presse, and euery Term-time (vpon Book­sellers stalles) lay whole litters of blinde inuention: fellowes ye (if they do but walke in the middle Ile) spit nothing but ynck, and speake nothing but Poeme. I would keepe company with neither of these two mad-men, if I could auoid them, yet I take the last to be the wisest and lesse dangerous for sithence al the arrowes that men shoote in the world, flye to two marks only (either pleasure or profit) he is not much to be cōdemned that hauing no more Acres to liue vppon then those that lie in his head) is euery houre hammering out one peice or other out of this rusty Iron age, sithence the golden and siluer Globes of the world are so locked vp, that a Scholler can hardly be suffred to behold them. Some perhaps wil say, that this lancing of the pestilent fores of a Kingdome so openly, may infect those in it that are found, and that in this our schoole, (where close a­buses [Page] & grose villanies are but discouered and not punished) others that neuer before knew such euils, wil be now instru­cted (by the booke) to practise them. If so, then let not a trai­tor, or a Murderer be publikely arraigned, lest the one laying open to the world, how his plots were wouen to contriue a treason, or the other, what pollicies he was armed with, for the shedding of blood, the standers-by (that are honest) be drawn (by their rules) to run head-long into the same mischiefe: no, Our strong phisicke works otherwise. What more makes a man to loath that Mongrell Madnesse (that halfe English, halfe Dutch sinne) Drunkennesse: then to see a common Drunkard acting his Scaenes in the open streete? Is any Gamester so foo­lish to play with false Dice, when he is assured that al who are about him know him to be a Sworne Cheator? The letting ther­fore of Uice blood in these seuerall Veines, which the Bel-man hath opend, cannot by any Iudicial rules of phisicke, endan­ger the Bodie of the Common-wealth, or make it feeble, but rather restore those parts to perfect strength, which by disor­der haue ben diseased.

Giue mee leaue to lead you by the hand into a Wilder­nesse (where are none but Monsters, whose crueltie you need not feare because I teach the way to tame them: vgly they are in shape and diuelish in conditions: yet to behold them a far off, may delight you, and to know their quallities (if euer you should come neere them (may saue you from much danger. Our Country breedes no Wolues nor Serpents, yet Theise in­gender here and are either Serpents or Wolues, or worse then both: whatsoeuer they are, I send vnto you not the Heard of the one, or the Bed of the other, but only a Picture of either, View them I pray, and where the cullours are not well layde on, shadow them with your finger: if you spy any dispropor­tion, thus excuse it, such Painting is fit for Monsters: How rudely soeuer the Peeceis drawne, call it a Picture. And when one more worthe your viewe lies vnder the workemans pen­cil, this Bad-one shall bring you home a Better: In the meane time, I cease, and begin to be (if you please)

All yours. THOMAS DEKKER

To my owne Nation.

Readers,

AFter it was proclaimed abroad, that (vnder the con­duct of the Bel-man of London,) new forces were (once more, to bee leauied against certaine Wilde and Barbarous Rebells, that were vp in open armes against the Tranquilitie of the Weale publique: It cannot bee tolde, what numbers of voluntaries offred themselues dayly to fight against so common, so bolde, so strange, and so dangerous an e­nemy. Light Horse-men came in hourely, with discouerie where these Mu [...]ineeres lay intrenched: deliuering (in briefe notes of intelligence) who were their Leaders, how they went Armed, and that they serued both on Horse & Foot: only their Strengthes could not hee discryed, because their Numbers were held infinite. Yet instructions were written and sent e­uerie minute by th [...]se that were Fauourers of Goodnesse shew­ing what Militarie Disciplines the foe vsed in his Battailes, and what Forts (if hee were put at any time to flight) he wold retire to; vvhat stratagems hee would practize, and where he did determine to lye in Ambuscado. They that could not serue in person in This Noble quarrell, sent their Auxilia­ry Forces, well armed with Counsell. So that the Bel-man (contrarie to his owne hopes,) seeing himselfe so strongly and strangely seconded by friends doth now brauely aduance for­ward, in maine battalion. The day of encounter is appointed to be in this Michaelmas Tearme. The place, Paules-Churh-yard, Fleetestreet, and other parts of the Ciitie. But before they ioyne, let me giue you note of one thing, and that is this.

There is an Vsurper, that of lat [...] hath taken vppon him the name of the Bel-man, but being not able to main­taine [Page] that Title, hee doth now call himselfe the Bel-mans bro­ther, his ambition is (rather out of vaine glorie then the true courage of an Experienced Soldier) to haue the leading of the Van, but it shall be honor good enough for him (if not too good) to tome vp with the Rere. You shall know him by his Habili­ments, for (by the furniture he weares) hee will bee taken for a Beadle of Bridewell. It is thought he is rather a Newter than a friend to the cause: and therefore the Bel-man dooth heere openly protest that he comes into the field as no fellowe in armes with Him.

Howsoeuer it be strucke, or whosoeuer giues the first blow, the victorie depends vpon the vallor of you that are the Winges to the Bels-mans army, for which conquest he is in hope you will valiantly fight sithence the quarrel is against the head of mon­strous abus [...], and the blowes which you must giue are in defence of Law, Iustice, Order, Ceremony, Religion, Peace, and that honorable title of Goodnesse.

Saint George! I see the two Armies mooue forward: and beholde, the Bel-man himselfe first chargeth vppon the face of the Enemy. Thus:

To the Author.

HOw e're thou maist by blazing all Abuse,
Incurre suspect, thou speak'st what thou hast prou'd,
(Tho then to keepe it close it thee behou'd,
S [...], Reason makes for thee a iust excuse)
Yet of thy paines, the B [...]st may make good vse,
Then of the Best, thy paines should be approu'd,
And for the same of them shouldst be belou'd.
Sith thou of Falsehoods Floud d [...]'st ope the Sluce,
That they at wast [...] continually may runne,
By she wing men [...]he R [...]aches that they haue,
That honest men may so or'e-reach a Knaue,
Or [...]ound their swallowing Deepes, the same to shunne:
But if from hence, a Knaue more cunning growes,
That Spider sucks but poison from thy Rose.
Thy friend if thine owne, Io: Da:

To his Friend.

OF Vice, whose Counter-mine a state confounds,
Worse then Sedition: of those Mortall Woundes
Which (throughly search'd) doe Kingdomes hearts endanger:
Of Plagues that o're run Citties: of those stranger
Big-swolne Impostumes, poisning the strong health
Of the most Sound, best Dieted Common-wealth,
Thou tell'st the Causes, and doest teach the Cure,
By Mea'cine well-compounded, cheape, and sure:
And (as One read in deepe Chirurgery,)
Draw'st of these Eu'lls, the true Anatomy.
Then, on thy Plainnesse let none lay reproofe,
Thou tak'st Sinne's heigth (as men doe starres) aloofe.
M: R:

To my industrious friend.

IN an ill Time thou writ'st, when Tongues had rather
Spit venome on thy lines, then from thy labours
(As Druggists doe from poison) medicine gather;
This is no Age to crowne Desert with Fauors.
But be thou Constant to thy selfe, and care not
What Arrowes Mallice shootes: the Wise will neuer
Blame thy Lowd singing, and the Foolish dare not:
None else but Wolues will barke at thine Endeuor.
When thou (in thy dead Sleepe) liest in thy Graue,
These Charmes to after-Ages vp shall raise thee;
What heere thou leau'st, aliue thy Name shall saue,
And what thou now dispraisest, shall then praise thee.
Tho, Not to know ill, be wise Ignorance,
Yet thou (by Reading Euill) doest Goodnesse teach,
And, of abuse the coullors doost aduance
Onely vpon abuse to force a breach;
The honor that thy pen shall earne thereby,
Is this: that tho Knaues Liue, their flights (Here) dye.
E: G:

Lanthorne & Candle-light, Or The Bell-mans second Nights walke.

Of Canting. How long it hath beene a language: how it comes to bee a language: how it is deriued, & by whom it is spoken.

CHAP. I.

WHen all the World was but one King­dome, One language through all the world at the beginning all the People in that King­dome spake but one language. A man could trauell in those dayes neither by Sea nor land, but he mett his Country-men & none others.

Two could not then stand gabling with strange ton­gues, and conspire together (to his owne face) how to cut a third mans throat, but he might vnderstand them. There was no Spaniard (in that Age) to Braue his enemy in the Rich and Lofty Castilian: no Romaine Orator to plead in the Rethoricall and Fluent Latine: no Italian to court his Mistris in the swéete and Amo­rous Thuscane [...] no French-man to parley in the full and stately phrase of Orleans: no Germaine to thunder out the high and ratling Dutch: the vnfruitfull crabbed Irish, and the Uoluble significant Welch, were not then so much as spoken of: the quick Scottish Dialect (sister to the [...]nglish) had not then a tongue, neither were the stringes of the English spéech (in those times) vntyed. [Page] When she first learn'd to speake, it was but a broken language: the singlest and the simplest Words flowed from her vtterāce: for she dealt in nothing but in Mono­sillables, (as if to haue spoken words of greater length would haue crackt her Uoice) by which meanes her Eloquence was poorest, yet hardest to learne, and so (but for necessity) not regarded amōgst Stran̄gers. Yet after­wards those Noblest Languages lent her Words and English toung comparable to the best. phrazes, and turning those Borrowings into Good hus­bandry, shée is now as rich in Elocution, and as aboun­dant as her prowdest & Best-stored Neighbors.

Whilst thus (as I said before) there was but one Alphabet of Letters, for all the world to Read by all the people that then liued, might haue wrought vpon one péece of worke in countries farre distant a sunder, with­out mistaking one another, and not néeding an interpre­ter to runne betwéene them. Which thing Nymrod (the first Idolater,) perceiuing, and not knowing better how to imploy so many thousand Milliōs of Subiects as bow­ed before him: a fire of Ambition burn'd within him, to climbe vp so high that hee might sée what was done in heauen: And for that purpose, workmen were summo­ned from all the corners of the Earth, who presētly were set to Build the Tower of Babell. But the Maister­workemā of this Great Vniuerse, (to check the Insolēce Building of Babell. of such a Sawcie builder) that durst raize vp Pynnacles, equall to his owne (aboue) commanded the selfe-same Spirit that was both bred in the Chaos and had main­teind it in disorder, to bee both Surueyor of those workes and Comptroller of the Labourers. This Messenger was called Confusion. It was a Spirit swift of sight, & faithfull of seruice. Her lookes wilde, terrible and incon­stant. Confusion des­cribed. Her attire, carelesly, loose, and of a thousand seue­rall coulors. In one hand shée grip'd a heape of stormes with which (at her pleasure) she could trouble ye waters: In the other she held a whip, to make three Spirits that drew her, to gallop fastes before her: the Spirits names [Page] were Treason, Sedition & War, who at euery time w [...] they went abroad, were ready to set Kingdomes in vproare. She roade vpon a Chariot of Clownes, w [...] was alwayes furnished with Thunder, Li [...]htning, Winds, Raine, Haile-stones, Snow, & all the other Ar­tillery belonging to the seruice of Diuine Vengeance: & when she spake, her Voyce sounded like the roaring of many Torrents, boystrously strugling together: for be­twéene her Iawes did she carry 1000000. Tongues.

This strāge Linguist, stepping to euery Artificer that was there at worke, whispred in his eare whoses lookes Beginning of languages. were there vpon (presently) [...] with a strange distrac­tion: and on a suddaine whilst euery man was speaking to his fellow, his language altred and no man could vn­derstand what his fellow spake. They all stared one vpon another, yet none of them all could tell wherefore so they stared Their Tongues went, and their hands gaue action to their Tongues: yet neither words nor action were vnderstood. It was a Noise of a thousand sounds, and yet the sound of the noise was nothing. Hée that spake, knew hée spake well: and he that heard, was madde that the other could speake no better. In the end they grew angry one with another, as thinking they had mocked one another of purpose. So that the Mason was ready to strike the Bricklayer, the Bricklayer to beats out the braines of his Labourer: the Carpenter tooke vp his Axe to throw at the Caruer, whilst the Caruer was stabbing at the Smith, because hee brought him a Hāmer when he should haue made him a Chizzell. He that cal­led for Timber, had Stones laide before him: & when one was sent for Nailes, he fetcht a Tray of Mortar.

Thus Babell should haue béene raized, and by this meanes Babell fell. The Frame could not goe forward, the staffe was throwne by, the workemen made holly­day. Euery one packd vp his tooles to be gone, yet not to goe the same way that he came but glad was he, that could méete another, whose spéech hee vnderstood for to [Page] what place soeuer he went, others (that ran madding vp and downe) hearing a man speake like themselues, fol­lowed onely him: so that they who when the worke be­gan were all countrimen, before a quarter of it was fini­shed, fled from one another, as from enemies & strāgers: And in this maner did Men at the first make vp natiōs: thus were words coynd into Languages, & out of those Languages haue others beene molded since, onely by the mixture of nations, after kingdomes haue béen subdued. But I am now to speake of a People & a Language, of both which (many thousands of yeares since that Wonder wrought at Babell) the world till now neuer made mention: yet confusion neuer dwelt more amongst any Creatures. The Bell-mā (in his first Voyage which The Bell­ma [...]s first booke. he made for Discoueries) found them to bée sauages, yet liuing in an Iland very tēpera [...]e, fruitfull, full of a No­ble Nation, and rarely gouerned. The Lawes, Māners and habits of these Wild-men, are plainly set downe, as it were in a former painted Table. Yet least happily a stranger may looke vpon this second Picture of them, who neuerbeheld The first, it shall not bée amisse (in this place) to repeate ouer againe the Names of all the Tribes into which they Diuide themselues, both when they Serue abroad in the open fields, and when they lye in garrison within Townes & walled Citties.

And these are their Rankes as they stand in order. viz.
  • Rufflers.
  • Vpright-men.
  • Hookers, alias Anglers,
  • Roagues.
  • Wilde Roagues.
  • Priggers of Prancers.
  • Paillards.
  • Fraters.
  • Prigges.
  • Swadders.
  • Curtalls.
  • Irish Toyles.
  • Swigmen.
  • Iarkmen.
  • Patricoes.
  • Kinchin-Coes.
  • [Page] Abraham-men,
  • Mad Tom alias of Bedlam
  • Whip-Iackes.
  • Counterfet Crankes.
  • Dommerats.
  • Glymmerers.
  • Bawdy-Baskets.
  • Autem Morts.
  • Doxies.
  • Dells.
  • Kinchin-Morts.

Into thus many Regiments are they now deuided: but in former times (aboue foure hundred yeares now past) they did consist of fiue Squadrons onely.

viz.
  • 1 Cur [...]ors, alias Vagabondes.
  • 2 Faytors.
  • 3 Robardsemen.
  • 4 Draw-latches.
  • 5 Sturdy Beggars.

And as these people are strange both in names and in their conditions, so doe they speake a Language (proper only to thēselues) called canting, which is more strange. Of canting. Howlong, By none but the souldiers of These tottred bandes is it familiarly or vsually spoken, yet within lesse then foure­scorce yeares (now past) not a word of this Lāguage was knowen. The first Inuentor of it, was hang'd, yet left he apt schollers behind him, who haue reduced that into Methode, which he on his death-bed (which was a paire of gallowes) could not so absolutely perfect as he desired.

It was necessary, that a people (so fast increasing, & so Canting ha [...] bin vsed. The first can­ter hanged. daily practising new & strange Villanies, should borrow to themselues a spéech, we (so neere as they could (none but themselues should vnderstand: & for that cause was this Language, (which some call Pedlers Frēch,) Inuē ­ted, to th'intent that (albeit any Spies should secretly How canting grevv to be a language. steale into their cōpanies to discouer th [...]) they might frée­ly vtter their mindes one to another, yet auoide ye dāger. The Language therefore of canting, they study euen from their Infancy, that is to say, from the very first houre, that they take vpon them the names of Kinchin Coes, tillthey are grown Rufflers, or Vpright-men, which are the highest in degrée amongst them.

[Page] This word canting séemes to bee deriued from the la­tine verbe (canto) which signifies in English, to sing, or to make a sound with words, thats to say to speake. And very aptly may canting take his deriuatiō a cantando, from singing, because amongst these beggerly consorts that can play vpon no better instruments, the language of canting is a k [...]de of musicke, and he that in such as­semblies can c [...]nt best, is counted the best Musitian.

Now as touching the Dialect or phrase it selfe, I sée not that it is grounded vpon any certaine rules; And no mer­uaile if it haue none, for sithence both the Father of this new kinde of Learning, and the children that study to speake it after him, haue beene from the beginning and stil are, the Breeders and Norishers of albase disorder, in their liuing and in their Manners: how is it possible, they should obserue any Method in their speech, and especialy in such a Language, as serues but onely to vtter discour­ses of villanies?

And yet (euen out of all that Irregularity, vnhansom­nesse, & Fountaine of Barbarisme) do they draw a kinde of forme: and in some wordes, (aswell simple as com­pounds) retaine a certaine salte, tasting of some wit and some Learning. As for example, they call a cloake (in the canting tongue) a Togeman, and in Latin, Toga signi­fies a gowne, or an vpper garment. Pannam is bread: & Panis in Lattin is likewise bread, cassan is cheese, and is a worde barbarously coynd out of the substātiue caseus which also signifies chéese. And so of others.

Then by ioyning of two simples, doe they make almost all their compounds. As for example: Nab (in the can­ting The Dialect of canting. tongue) is a head, & Nab-cheate, is a hat or a cap, Which word cheate beeing coupled to other wordes, stands in verry good stead, and dees excellent seruice: For a Smelling cheate, signifies a Nose: a Prat-ling chete, is a tongue. Crashing chetes, are teeth: Hearing chetes are Eares: Fambles are Hands: and therevpon a ring is called a Fābling chete. A Muffling chete, signi­fies [Page] a Napkin. A Belly chete, an Apron▪ A Grunting chete, A Pig: A Cackling Chete, a Cocke or a Capon: A Quacking chete, a duck: A Lowghing chete, a Cow: A Bleating chete, a Calfe, or a Shee [...]e: and so may that word be marryed to many others besides.

The word Coue, or Cofe, or Cuffin, signifies a Man, a Fellow, &c. But differs something in his propertie, according as it meetes with other wordes: For a Gen, tleman is called a Gentry Coue, or Cofe: A good fellow is a Bene Cofe: a Churle is called, a Quier Cuffin; Qui­er signifies naught, and Cuffin (as I said before) a man: and in Canting they terme a Iustice of peace, (because he punisheth them belike) by no other name then by Quier cuffin, that is to say a Churle, or a naughty man. And so, Ken signifiing a house, they call a prison, a Qui­er ken, thats to say, an ill house.

Many peeces of this strange coyne could I shew you, but by these small stampes, you may iudge of the greater.

Now because, a Language is nothing els then heapes of wordes, orderly wouen and composed together: and that (within so narrow a circle as I haue drawne to my selfe) it is impossible to imprint a Dictionarie of all the Canting phrases: I wil at this time not make you surfet on too much, but as if you were walking in a Garden, you shall openly pluck here a flower, and there another, which (as I take it) will be more delightfull then if you gathered them by handfulls.

But before I lead you into that walke, stay and heare a Canter in his owne language, making [...], albeit (I thinke) those charmes of Poesie which (at the first) made the barbarous tame, and brought them to ciuil [...]y, can (vpon these sauage Monsters) worke no such won­der. Yet thus he singes (vppon demaund whether any of his own crue did come that way) to which he answers, yes (quoth he)

Canting rithmes.

ENough—with bowsy Coue maund Nace,
Tour the Patring Coue in the Darkeman Case,
Docked the Dell, for a Coper meke,
His wach shall feng a Prounces Nab-chete,
Cyar [...]m, by Salmon, and thou shalt pek my Iere
In thy Gan, for my watch it is nace gere,
For the bene bowse my watch hath a win &c.

This short Lesson I leaue to be construed by him that is desirous to try his skill in the language, which he may do by helpe of the following Dictionary; into which way that he may more redily come, I will translate into En­glish, this broken French that followes in Prose. Two Canters hauing wrangled a while about some idle quar­rell, at length growing friends, thus one of them speakes to the other. viz.

A Canter in prose.

STowe you beene Cofe: and cut benar whiddes and bing we to Rome vile, to nip a boung: so shall wee haue lowre for the bowsing ken, & when we beng back to the Dewese a vile, we will filch some Duddes, off the Ruffmans, or mill the Ken for a lagge of Dudes.

Thus in English

Stowe you, beene cofe: hold your peace good fellow,
And cut benar whiddes: and speake better words.
And bing we to Rome vile: and goe we to London.
To nip a boung: to cut a purse.
So shall we haue lowre: so shall we haue mony.
For the bowsing Ken, for the Ale-house.
And when we bing backe: and when we come backe.
To the Dewse-a-vile: into the Country.
We will filch some duddes: we will filch some clothes,
Off the Ruffmans: from the hedges,
Or mill the Ken: or rob the house,
For a lagge of Duddes: for a bucke of clothes.

Now turne to your dictionary.

ANd because you shall not haue one dish twice set be­fore you, none of those Canting wordes that are en­glished before shall here be found: for our intent is to feast you with varietie.

The Canters Dictionarie.

AVtem, a church.
Autem-mort, a married waman.
Boung, a purse.
Borde, a shilling.
Halfe a Borde, six pence.
Bowse, drinke.
Bowsing Ken, an ale-house.
Bene, good.
Beneship, very good:
Bufe, a Dogge,
Bing a wast, get you hence.
Caster, a Cloake.
A Commission, a shirt.
Chates, the Gallowes.
To cly the Ierke, to be whipped.
To cutt, to speake.
To cutt bene, to speake gently.
To cutt bene whiddes, to speake good wordes.
To cutt quier whiddes, to giue euill language.
To Cant, to speake.
To couch a Hogshead, to lye downe a sleepe.
Drawers, Hosen.
Dudes, clothes.
Darkemans, the night.
Dewse-a-vile, the country,
Dup the Giger, open the dore.
Fambles, hands.
Fambling Chete, a King.
Flag, a Goat
Glasiers, eyes.
Gan, a mouth.
[Page] Gage, a Quart pott.
Grannam, Corne.
Gybe, a writing.
Glymmer, fire.
Gigger, a doore
Gentry Mort, a Gentlewoman▪
Gentry cofes Ken, a Noble mans house▪
Harman bek, a Constable.
Harmans, the Stockes.
Heaue a bough, rob a Boothe.
Iarke, a Seale.
Ken, a house.
Lage of Dudes, a Bucke of clothes.
Libbege, a bed.
Lowre, money.
Lap, Butter, Milke, or Whaye.
Libken, a house to lye in.
Lage, Water.
Light-mans, the day.
Mynt, Golde.
A Make, a halfe-penny.
Margery prater, a Henne.
Mawnding, asking.
To Mill, to steale.
Mill a Ken, rob a house.
Nosegent, a Nunne.
Niggling, companying with a woman.
Pratt, a Buttock.
Peck, meate.
Poplars. Pottage.
Prancer, a Horse.
Prigging, Kiding.
Patrico, a Priest.
Pad, a way.
Quaromes, a body.
Ruff-peck, Bacon.
Roger, or Tib of the Buttry, a Goose.
[Page] Rome-vile, London.
Rome-bowse, Wine.
Rome-mort, a Quéene.
Ruffmans, the woodes, or bushes.
Ruffian, the Diuell.
Stampes: legges.
Stampers? shooes.
Slate: a shéete.
Skew: a cup.
Salomon: the masse.
Stuling ken: a house to receiue stolne goods.
Skipper: a barne.
Strommel, straw.
Smelling chete, an Orchard or Garden.
To scowre the Cramp-ring: to weare boults.
Stalling: making or ordeyning.
Tryning: hanging.
To twore: to sée.
Wyn: a penny.
Yarum: milke.

And thus haue I builded vp a little Mint, where you may coyne wordes for your pleasure. The payment of this was a debt: for the Belman at his farewell (in his first Round which hée walk'd) promised so much. If hée kéepe not touch, by tendring the due Summe, hée desires forbearance, and if any that is more rich in this Canting commodity will lend him any more, or any better, hée will pay his loue double: In the meane time, receiue this, and to giue it a little more weight, you shall haue a Cāting song, wherein you may learne, how This cursed Generation pray, or (to speake truth) curse such Officers as punish them.

A Canting song.

THe Ruffin cly the nab of the Harman beck,
If we mawn [...]d Pannam, lap or Ruff-peck,
Or poplars of yarum: he cuts, bing to the Ruffmans,
Or els he sweares by the light-mans,
To put our stamps in the Harmans.
The ruffian cly the ghost of the Harmanbeck,
If we heaue a booth we cly the Ierke.
If we niggle, or mill a bowsing Ken,
Or nip a boung that has but a win,
Or dup the giger of a Gentry cofes ken,
To the quier cuffing we bing,
And then to the quier Ken, to scowre the Cramp-ring,
And then to the Trin'de on the chates, in the lightmans
The Bube & Ruffian cly the Harman beck & harmans.

Thus Englished.

THe Diuell take the Constables head,
If we beg Bacon, Butter-milke or bread.
Or Pottage, to the hedge he bids vs hie,
Or sweares (by this light) ith stocks we shall lie.
The Deuill haunt the Constables ghoast,
If we rob but a Booth, we are whipd at a poast.
If an ale-house we rob, or be tane with a whore,
Or cut a purse that has iust a penny and no more,
Or come but stealing in at a Gentlemans dore,
To the Iustice straight we goe,
And then to the Iayle to be shackled: And so
To be hangd on the gallowes ith day time: the pox
And the Deuill take the Constable and his stocks.

We haus Canted (I feare) too much, let vs now giu [...] [...]are to the Bel-man, and heare what he speaks in english.

THE BEL-MANS SECOND Nights walke. CHAP. 2

IT was Terme-time in hel (for you must vnderstand, a Lawyer liues there aswell as heere:) by which meanes don Lucifer (being the iu­stice Qui fixit le­ges [...] at (que) [...]efixit. for that Countie, where the Brimstone mines are) had better dooings and more rapping at his gates, then all the Doctors & Em­pericall Quack-saluers of ten cit­ties haue at theirs in a great plague-time. The hal where these Termers were to try their causes, was very large A description of the Hall where matters are tryed in He [...]l. and strongly built, but it had one fault: it was so hot that people could not indure to walk there: Yet to walke there they were compelled, by reason they were drawne thi­ther vppon occasions, and such iustling there was of one another, that it would haue grieued any man to be in the thronges amongst em. Nothing could bee heard but noise, and nothing of that noise be vnderstood, but that Hinc exaudir gemitus, &c it was a sound as of men in a kingdome, when on a sud­daine it is in an vprore. Euery one brabled with him that he walked with, or if he did but tell his tale to his Councell, he was so eager in the verry deliuery of that tale, that you would haue sworne he did brabble: and The iudge of the court, Haec Rhada­man [...]us babe [...] durissima regna; Castigat (que) dit (que) dolos, subig [...] (que) [...], &c. such gnashing of teeth there was when aduersaries met together, that the fyling of ten thousand Sawes cannot yeeld a sound more horrible. The Iudge of the Court had a diuelish countenance, and as cruell hee was in pu­nishing those that were condemned by Lawe, as hée was crabbed in his lookes, whilst he sat to heare their tryals. [Page] But albeit there was no pittie to be expected at his hands, yet was he so vpright in iustice, that none could euer fasten bribe vppon him, for he was ready and wil­ling to heare the cries of all commers. Neither durst any Pleader (at the infernall Barre) or any officer of the Court, exact any Fee of Plaintiffes, and such as complained of wrongs and were opprest: but onely they [...]. paide that were the wrong dooers, those would they sée dambd ere they should gette out of their fingers, such fellowes they were appointed to vexe at the very soule.

The matters that here were put in sute, were more then could bee bred in twentie Uacations, yet should a man be dispatched out of hand. In one Terme he had The customes and condition of the court. his Iudgement, for heare they neuer stand vppon Re­turnes, but presently come to Triall. The causes deci­ded here are many; the Clients that complaine many; the Counsellors (that plead till they be hoarse,) many; the Attornies (that runne vp and downe,) infinite; the Vnde nunquā quum semel venit potuit e [...]uerti. Clarkes of the Court, not to be numbred. All these haue their hands full; day and night are they so plagued with the bawling of Clients that they neuer can rest.

The Inck where-with they write, is the blood of Con­iurers: they haue no Paper, but all thinges are engros­sed in Parchment, and that Parchment is made of Scri­ueners skinnes flead off, after they haue beene puni [...]ed for Forgerie: their Standishes are the Scu [...]s of Usu­rers: their Pennes, the bones of vnconscionable Bro­kers, and hard-hearted Creditors, that haue made dice of other mens bones, or else of periured Excecutors and blind Ouer-séeers, that haue eaten vp Widdowes and Orphanes to the bare bones: and those Pennes are made of purpose without Nebs, because they, may cast Inck but slowly, in mockery of those who in their life time were slowe in yeelding drops of pitty.

Would you know what actions are tried here? I wil What matters are tryed be­fore the Di­uell. but turne ouer the Recordes, and read them vnto you as they hang vppon the Fyle.

[Page]The Cou [...]er is sued heere, and condemned for Ryots.

The Soldier is sued heere and condemned for murders

The Scholler is sued here & condemned for He [...]ezies.

The Citizen is sued here and condemned for the city­fins.

The Farmer is sued heere vpon Penal Statutes, and condemned for spoyling the Markets. [...] Qui (que) arm [...] secuti impia. [...] Epulae (que) ante eraparatae-furiarum maxima iux [...] accubat, & manibus pro­hibet contin­gere mens [...].

Actions of batterie are brought against Swaggerers, and heere they are bound to the peace.

Actions of Waste are brought against drunkards and Epicures, and heere they are condemned to begge at the Grate for one drop of colde water to coole their tongues, or one [...] of breade to stay their hunger, yet are they denyed it.

Harlots haue processe sued vpon them heere, and are condemned to Howling, to Rottennesse and to Stench. No Actes of Parliament that haue passed the Heauen Upper­house, can be broken, but here the breach is punished, and that seuerely, and that suddenlly: For here they stand vp­pon no demurres; no Audita-Queraela can heere be got­ten, no writs of Errors to Reuerse Iudgement: heere is no flying to a court of Chancery for relee [...], yet euerie one —Exercentur Pae [...]s, eternū ­ (que) malorum. Supplicia ex­pend [...] that comes heather is serued with a Sub-poena. No, they deale altogether in this Court vpon the Habeas Corpus, vpon the Capias, vppon the Ne exeat Regneum, vpon Rebellion, vppon heauie Fines (but no Recoueries) vpon writers of Out-lary, to attache the body for euer, & last of all vppon Executions, after Iudgement, which be­ing seru'd vpon a man is his euerlasting vnd [...]oing.

Such are the Customes and courses of proceedings in the Offices belonging to the Prince of Darknesse. These hot dooings hath he in his Terme-times. But vpon a day when a great matter was to be tryed betweene an Eng­lishman and a Dutchman, which of the two were the fowlest Drinkers, and the case being a long time in ar­guing, by reason that strong euidence came in re [...]ling on both sides, (yet it was thought that the English-man [Page] would carry it away, and cast the Dutchman) on a sud­den all was staid by the sound of a horne that was heard at the lower end of the Hall. And euerie one looking back (as wondring at the strangenesse) too me room was cride and made through the thickest of the crowde, for a cer­taine spirit in the likenesse of a post who made away on a little leane Nagge by to the Bench where Iudge Rad a­manth with his two grim Brothers (Minos and Aeacus) sat. This spirit was an intelligencer sent by Belzebub of Batharum into some Countries of Christēdome, to lye there as a spie, [...]had brought with him a packet of letters from seuerall Leigiars, that lay in those Countries, for the seruice of the Tartarian their Lord and Maister, which packet being opened, all the Letters, (because they concernd the generall good and state of those lowe Coun­tries in Hell) were publikely reade. The contents of [...]ranci Reg [...]. that Letter stung most, and put them all out of their law­cases, were to this purpose.

THat whereas the Lord of Fiery Lakes, had his Mi­nisters A letter against the Bel-man in all kingdomes aboue the earth, whose Of­fices were not onely to winne subiects of other Princes to his obedience, but also to giue notice when any of his owne sworn houshold, or any other that held league with him should reuolt or flye from their duty & allegiance: as also discouer from time to time all plots, conspiracies, machinations, or vnderminings, that skold be laid (albeit they that durst lay them should dig deepe enough) to blow vp his great Internall cittie: so that if his Horned Regi­ment were not suddenly mustred together, and did not lustely bestirre their clouen stumps, his Territories weld be shaken, his dominions left in time vnpeopl'd, his for­ces look'd into, and his authoritie which hee held in the world, contemned & laughed to scorne. The reason was, yt a certaine fellow. The Childe of Darkenes, a common The Belman Night-walker, a man that had no man to waite vppon him but onely a Dog, one that was a disordered person, [Page] and at midnight would beate at mens doores, bidding them (in meere mockerie) to look to their candles when they themselues were in their dead sleeps: and albeit he was an Officer, yet he was but of Light-carriage, being knowne by the name of the Bell-man of London, had of late not only drawne a number of the Deuils owne kin­dred into question for their liues, but had also (only by the help of the lanthorn & candle) lookt into the secrets of the best trades that are taught in hell, laying them open to the broad eye of the world, making them infamous, edi­ous, and ridiculous: yea, and not satisfied with dooing this wrong to his diuellship, very spitefullye hath hee set them out in print, drawing their pictures so to the life, that now a horse-stealet shall not shew his head, but a balter with the Hang-mans noose is ready to bee fastned about it: A Foyst nor a Nip shall not walke into a Fayre or a Play-house, but euerie cracke will cry looke to your pur­ses: nor a poore common Rogue come to a mans doore, but he shall be examined if he can cant? If this Baulling fellow therefore haue not his mouth stop'd, the light An­gels that are coynd below, will neuer bee able to passe as they haue done, but be naild vp for counterfeits, Hell will haue no dooings, and the deuill be no-body.

This was the lyning of the Letter, and this Letter draue them al to a Non-plus, because they knew not how to answere it. But at last aduice was taken, the Court brake vp, the Tearme was adiourn'd, (by reason that the Hell-houndes were thus Plagu'd) and a common coun­sell in hell was presētly called how to redres these abuses.

The Sathanicall Sinagogue beeing set, vp startes the Father of Hell and damnation, and looking verrie terri­bly with a paire of eies that stared as wide as the mouth gapes at Bishops-gate, fetching foure or fiue deep sighes (which were nothing else but the Smoke of fire & brim­stone boyling in his stomacke, and shewed as if hee were taking tobacco, which be often times does) tolde his chil­dren & seruāts (& the rest of the citizens that dwelt wich­in [Page] the freedome of Hel, and sat there before him vpon na­row low formes) that they neuer had more cause to lay their heads together, and to grow pollititians. Hee and they all knew, that from the Corners of the earth, some did euerie houre in a day creepe forth, to come and serue him: yea, that many thousands were so be witched with H [...]c omnis turba. his fauours, and his rare partes, that they would come running quick to him, his dominions (he said) were great and full of people: Emperors and Kings, (in infinit num­bers) were his slaues: his court was ful of Princes: if the world were deuided (as some report) but into three parts Innum [...]rae ge [...] [...] populi (que) two of those three were his: or if (as others affirme) into foure parts, almost three of that foure had hee firme foo­ting.

But if such a fellow as a treble voic'd Bel-man, should be suffered to pry into the infernal Misteries, & into those Black Acts which command the spirits of the Déep, & ha­uing sucked what knowledge he can from them, to turne it al into poison, & to spit it in the verie faces of the profes­sors, with a malicious intent to make them appeare vgly and so to grow hatefull and out of fauor with ye world: if such a coniurer at midnight should dance in their circles and not be driuen out of them, hell in a few yeares would not bee worth the dwelling in. The great Lord of Limbo did therefore commaund all his Blacke Guard that stood about him, to bestirre them in their places, and to defend the Court wherein they liued: threatning (besides) that his cursse, & all the plagues of stinking hel shold fall vpon Grauco [...]entis [...]. his officers, seruants, and subiects, vnlesse they either ad­uiz'd him, how, or take some speedy order themselues to punish that saucy intelligencer, the Bel-man of London. Thus he spake and then sat.

At last, a foolish Deuill rose vp, and shot the bolt of his aduice, which flew thus farre, That the Blacke-dogge of New-gate should againe bee let loose, and a farre off, follow the Balling Bel-man, to watch into what pla­c [...]s hee went, and what deedes of darkenesse (euerie [Page] night) hee did. Hinc risus! The whole Syniodicall as­sembly, fell a laughing at this Wise-acre, so that neither he nor his blacke-Dogge durst barke any more.

Another, thinking to cleaue the verrie pinne with his arrow, drew it home to the head of Wisdome (as he ima­ginde) and yet that lighted wide too, But thus shot his Counsell, that the Ghosts of all those theeues, Cheaters, and others of the damned crew, (who by the Bel-mans discouerie, had bene betraied, were taken and sent west­ward) should bee fetched from those fields of Horror, where euerie night they walke, disputing with Doctor Story, who keepes them company there in his corner Cap: & that those wry-neck'd spirits should haue charge giuen them to haunt the Bel-man in his walkes, and so fright him out of his wittes. This Deuill for all his roaring, went away neither with a Plaudite, nor with a hisse: Others step'd vp, some pronouncing one verdict some another: But at the last, it beeing put into their Diuelish heads, that they had no power ouer him far­ther then what shold be giueu vnto them, it was conclu­ded and set downe as a rule in Court, that some one strange spirit, [...] could transport himselfe into all shapes, should bee sent vppe to London, and scorning to take reuenge vppon so meane a person as a Bel-ring­er, should thrust himselfe into such companyes, (as in a warrant to bee signed for that purpose) should bee no­minated: and beeing once growne familiar with them, hee was to worke and winne them by all possible meanes to fight vnder the dismall and blacke collours of the Grand Sophy, (his Lord and Master:) the fruite that was to grow vppon this tree of euill, would bee greate, for it should bee fit to bee serued vp to Don Lucifers Ta­ble, as a new banqueting Dish, sithence all his other meates, (though they fatted him well) were grown stale

Hereupon Pamersiell the Messenger was called, a pasport was drawne, signed and deliuered to him, with certaine instruments how to carry himselfe in this tra­uell. [Page] And thus m [...]ch was openly spoken to him by word of mouth.

Fly [...] Pamersi [...]l with speede to the great and populous citie in the West: winde thy selfe into all shapes: bee a Dogge (to fawne) a Dragon (to confound) bee a Dou [...] (seeme innocent) bee a Deuill (as thou art) and shew that thou art a Iorniman to hel. Build rather thy nest amōgst willowes that bend euerie way, then on tops of Oakes, whose hearts are hard to be broken: Fly with the Swal­low, close to ye earth, when stormes are at hand, but keep company with Birdes of greater tallants, when the weather is cleere, & neuer leaue them till they looke like Rauens: creepe into bosom [...] that are buttond vp in sattin and there spred the wings of thine infection: make euerie head thy pillow to leane vpon, or vse it like a Mill, onely to grinde mischiefe. If thou meetst a Dutchman, drinke with him: if a Frenchman, stab: if a Spaniard, betray: if an Italian poyson: if an Englishman doe all this.

Haunt Tauerns, there thou shalt [...] yrodigalls: pay thy two-pence to a Player, in his gallerie maist thou sitte by a Harlot: at Ordinaries maist thou dine with silken fooles: when the day steales out o [...] [...]orld, thou shalt meete rich drvnkards, vnder wel [...] gownes search for threescore in the hundred, hugge those golden villaines, they shine bright, and will make a good shew in hell, shriek we a cricket in the brew-house, & watch how they coniure there: Ride vp and downe Smith-field, and play the Iade ther [...]: Uisit prisons, and teach Iaylors how to make nets of Iron there: binde thy selfe Prentice to the best trades: but if thou canst grow extreame ritch in a very short time, (honestly) I banish thee my kingdome, come no more into hell, I haue red thee a lecture, follow [...] it, farewell.

No sooner was farwell spoken, but the spirit to whom all these matters were giuen in charge, vanished: the clo­ [...]en footed Orator arose, and the whole assembly went a­bout their damnable businesse.

Gul-groping.
Chap. 3

How Gentlemen are cheated at Ordinaries.

THe Diuels foote-man was very nimble of his héeles (for no wilde-Irish man could out-runne him, and therefore in a few houres, was he come vp to Lon­don: the miles betweene Hell and any place vpon earth being shorter then those betweene London and Saint Albones, to any man that trauels from thence thither, or to any Lackey that comes from hence hether on the De­uils errands: but to any other poore soule, that dwells in those low contries, they are neuer at an end, and by him are not possible to bee measured.

No sooner was he entred into the Cittie, but hee met with one of his Maisters daughters called Pride, drest like a Matchants wife, who taking acquaintance of him, and vnderstanding for what hee came, tolde him, that the first thing hee was to doe, hee must put himselfe in good cloathes, such as were sutable to the fashion of the time, for that here, men were look'd vppon onely for their out­sides: he that had not ten-pounds-worth of wares in his shop, would carry twentie markes on his back: that there were a number of sumpter-borses in the citty, who cared Aus [...]rimur cultu; Gemmis aure (que) tegnu­tur omnia. not how coursely they fed, so they might were gay trap­pings: pea, that some pied fooles, to put on satin and vel­uet but foure daies in the yeare did often-times vndoe themselues, wiues and Children euer after. The spirit of the Deuils Buttry hearing this, made a legge to Pride for her counsell, and knowing by his owne experience that euerie Taylor hath his bell to himselfe, vnder his Shop-board, (where he dammes new Sattin) amongst them he thought to finde best welcome, and therefore in­to Burchin-lane hee stalkes verie mannerly, Pride go­ing along with him, and taking the vpper hand.

[Page] No sooner was he entred into the rankes of the Lin­nen Burchin lane described. Taylors at first were cal­led L [...]n. Armorers. serieants Armorers, (whose weapons are Spanish needles) but he was most terribly and sharpely set vppon euerie: prentice boy had a pull at him: he feared they all had bin Serieants, because they all had him by the back: neuer was poore deuil so tormented in hell, as he was amongst them: he thought it had bene Saint Thomas his day, & that he had bene called vpon to be Constable: there was such balling in his eares: and no strength could shake them off, but that they must shews him some suites of ap­parell, because they saw what Gentlewoman was in his company (whom they all knew) Seeing no remedie, into a shop he goes, was fitted brauely, and beating the price, found the lowest to be vnreasonable, yet paide it, and de­parted, none of them (by reason of their crowding about him befor) perceiuing what customer they had met with, but now the Taylor spying the deuill, suffered him to go, neuer praying that he wold know the shop another time, but looking round about his ware-house if nothing were missing, at length he found that he had lost his cōscience: yet remembring himselfe, that they who deale with the diuel, can hardly keepe it, he stood vpon it the lesse.

The fashions of an Ordinarie.

THe Stigian traueller beeing thus translated into an accomplish'd gallant, with all acoutrements be­longing (as a fether for his head, gilt rapier for his sides, & new boots to hide his polt foote (for in Bed-lam bee met with a shoemaker, a mad slaue, that knew the length of his last) it rested, onely that now he was to enter vppon company sutable to his cloathes: and knowing that your most selected Gallants are the onelye table-men that are plaid with al at Ordinaries, into an Ordinary did he most gentleman like, conuay himselfe in state.

It seemed that al who came thether, had clocks in their bellies, for they all struck into the dyning roome much a­about the very minute of feeding. Our Caualier had all [Page] the eyes (that came in (throwne vpon him, (as beeing a stranger [...] for no Ambassador from the diuell euer dined a­mongst them before,) and he asmuch tooke especiall notes of them. In obseruing of whom and of the place he found, that an Ordinary was the only Rendeuouz for the most ingenious, most terse, most trauaild, and most phantastick gallant: the very Exchange for newes out of al countries: the only Booke-sellers shop for conference of the best Edi­tions, that if a womā (to be a Lady (would cast away her­self vpon a knight, there a man should heare a Catalogue of most of the richest London widowes: [...] last, that it was a schoole where they were all fellowes of one Forme, & that a country gentleman was of as great comming as ye proudest Iustice that sat there on ye bench aboue him: for he that had the graine of the table with his trencher, payd no more then he that plac'd himself beneath the salt.

The diuers intelligencer could not be contented to fill his eye onely with these obiects, and to féed his belly with delicate chéere: But hée drew a larger picture of all that were there, and in these collours.

The vcider hauing cléered the table; Cardes & Dice (for the last Messe) are serued vp to the boord: they that are ful of coyne, draw: they that haue little, stand by & giue ayme: they shuffle and cut on one side: the bones rattle on the o­ther: long haue they not plaide, but others fly vp & down the roome like haile-shot: if the poore dumb dice be but a little out of square, the pox & a thousand [...]plagues breake their neckes out at window: presently after, the foure knaues are sent packing the same way, or els (like here­tikes are) condemned to be burnt.

In this battaile of Cardes and Dice, are seuerall Re­giments & seuerall Officiers.

They that sit downe to play, are at first cald Leaders.

They that loose, are the Forlorne Hope.

He that winnes all, is the Eagle.

He that stands by & Uentures, is the Wod-pecker.

The fresh Gallant that is fetcht in is The Gull,

H [...] that stands by, and lends, is the Gull-groper.

The Gull-groper.

THis Gul-groper is commonly an old Mony-mōger, who hauing trauaild through all the follyes of the world in his youth, knowes them well, and shunnes them in his age, his whole felicitie being to fill his bags with golde and siluer: hee comes to an Ordinary, to saue charges of house-keeping, and will eate for his two shillings, more meate then will serue thrée of the guard at a dinner, yet sweares hée comes thether onely for the company, and to conuerse with trauailers. Its a Gold-Finch that fildome flies to these Ordinary Nests, with­out a hundred or two hundred pound in twenty shilling péeces about him. After the tearing of some seauen paire of Cardes, or the damning of some ten baile of Dice, steps hée vpon the Stage, and this part he playes. If any of the Forlorne Hope bée a Gentleman of Meanes, either in Esse, or in Posse▪ (and that the olde Fox will bée sure to know to halfe an Acre,) whose money runnes at a low ebbe, as may appeare by his scratching of the head, and walking vp and downe the roome, as if he wanted an Ostler: The Gull-groper takes him to a side window and tels him, hée's sorry to sée his hard luck, but the Dice are made of womens bones, and will cozen any man, yet for his fathers sake (whom he hath knowne so long) if it please him, he shal not leaue off play for a hundred pound or two. If my yong Estrich gape to swallow downe this mettall (& for the most part they are very gréedy, hauing such prouander set before them) then is the gold powred on the board, a Bond is made for repaiment, at the next quarter day when Exhibition is sent in: and because it is all gold, and cost so much the changing, The Scriuener (who is a whelpe of the old Mastiues owne bréeding) knows what words will bite, which thus he fastens vpō him, and in this Nette the Gull is sure to be taken (howsoeuer:) for if he fall to play againe, & loose, the hoary Goat-bearded Satyre that stands at his elbow, laughes [Page] in his sléeue: if his bags be so recouered of their Falling­sicknes, that they be able presently to repay the borrowed gold, then Monsieur Gul-groper steales away of purpose to auoide the receipt of it; he hath fatter Chickens in hatching: tis a fayrer marke he shootes at. For the day being come when the bond growes due, the within named Signior Auaro will not be within: or if he be at home, he hath wedges enough in his pate, to cause the bond to bée broken, or else a little before the day, he féeds my young Maister with such swéet words, that surfetting vpon his protestations, hée neglects his paiment, as presuming hée may do more But the Law hauing a hand in the forfei­ture of the bond, laies presently hold of our yong Gallant with the helpe of a couple of Serieants, and iust at such a time when old Erra Pater (the Iew,) that lent him the money, knowes by his owne Prognostication, that the Moone with the siluer face is with him in the waine. No­thing then can frée him out of the phanges of those bloud­hounds, but he must presently confesse a iudgment, for so much money, or for such a Manor or Lordship (thrée times worth the bond forfeited) to be paid or to be entred vpon by him, by such a day or within so many moneths after he comes to his land. And thus are young heires coozend of their Acres, before they well know where they lye.

The Wood-pecker.

THe Wood-pecker is a bird that sits by vpon a perch too: but is nothing so dangerous, as this Uulture spoken of before. He deales altogether vpon Returnes, (as men do that take thrée for one, at their comming back from Ierusalem &c.) for hauing a Iewell, a Clock, a King with a Diamond, or any such like commoditie, he notes him well that commonly is best acquainted with the Dire, and hath euer good luck: to him he offers his prize, rating it at ten or fiftéene pound, when happily tis not worth aboue six and for it he bargaines to receiue fiue shillings or ten shillings (according as it is in value) at [Page] euery hand, second, third, or fourth hand he brawed: by which means be perhaps in a short time, makes that yeeld h [...]nforty or fifty pound, which cost not halfe twenty, Ma­ny of these Merchant venturers saile from Ordinary to Ordinary, being sure alwayes to make sauing [...]oiages, when they that put in ten times more then they, are for the most part loosers,

The Gull.

NOw if either The Leaders, or The Forlorne Hope, or any of the rest, th [...]ce to heare of a yong Fresh-water soldier that neuer before followed these strange warres, and yet hath a Charge newly giuen him (by the old fel­low Soldado Vecchio his father, when Death had shotit him into the Graue) of some ten or twelue thousand in ready money, besides so many hundreds a yeare: first are Scoutes sent out to discouer his Lodging, that knowne: some lie in ambush to note what Apothecaries shop hée resorts too euery morning, or in what Tobacco-shop in Fléet-street he takes a pipe of Smoake in the afternoone: that fort which the Puny holds, is sure to be beleaguerd by the whole troope of the old weather beaten Gallants: amongst whom some one, whose [...] thought to be of a better block for his head, than therest, is appointed to single out our Nouice, and after some faure or fiue dayes spent in Complement, our heire to seauen hundred a yeare is drawne to an Ordinary, into which he no sooner enters, but all the old-ones in that Nest slutter about him, embrace, protest, kisse the hand, Conge to the very garter, and in the end (to shew that hee is no small foole, but that he knows his father left him not so much monie for nothing,) the yong Cub suffers himselfe to be drawne to the stake: to flesh him, Fortune and the Dice (or rather the False dice, that coozen Fortune, & make a foole of him too) shall so fauor him, that he marches away from a bat­taile or two, the onely winner. But after wards, let him play how warily soeuer he can, the damned Dice shall [Page] crosse him, & his siluer crosses shall blesse those that play against him: for euen they that séeme déerest to his bo­some, shall first be ready, and be the formost to enter with the other Leaders into conspiracy, how to make spoile of his golden bags. By such ransacking of Cittizens sonnes wealth, the Leaders maintaine themselues braue, the Forlorne-hope, that droop'd before, do'es now gallantly come on. The Eagle fethers his nest, the Wood-pecker pickes vp his crums, the Gul-groper growes fat with good féeding: and the Gull himselfe, at whom euery one has a Pull, hath in the end scarce fethers enough to kéepe his owne back warme.

The Post-maister of Hell, séeing such villanies to go vp and downe in cloakes lin'd cleane through with Ueluet, was glad he had such newes to send ouer, and therefore sealing vp a letter full ot it, deliuered the same to filthy­bearded Charon) their owne Water-man) to be conuaide Portiteriba [...] horrendus aqua [...] & flu­mina seruat, Terribilisqua [...] lore Charon, Cui plurima mente, Cani­ties incultae iacet. first to the Porter of Hell, & then (by him) to the Maister [...]éeper of the Diuels.

Of Ferreting.
CHAP. IIII.

The Man [...]f vndooing Gentlemen by taking vp of commodities.

HUnting is a noble, a manly, & a healthfull exercise, it is a very true picture of warre, nay it is a war in it selfe, for engines are brought into the field, stratagems are contriued, ambushes are laide, onsets are giuen, al­ [...]arums struck vp, braue incounters are made, fierce as­sailings are resisted by strength, by courage, or by pollicy: the enemy is pursued, and the Pursuers neuer giue ouer till they haue him in execution: then is a Retreate soun­ded, then are spoiles diuided, then come they home wea­ried, but yet crowned with honor & victory. And as in bat­tailes there be seuerall maners of fight: so in the pastime of hunting, there are seuerall degrées of game. Seme hunt [Page] the Lion, and that shewes as when subiects rise in Hunting of the Lyon &c Armes against their King: Some hunt the Vnicorne for the treasure on his head, and they are like couetous men, that care not whome they kill for riches: some hunt the Sp [...]tted Panther and the freckled Leopard, they are such as to inioy their pleasures, regard not how blacke an infamy stickes vpon them: All these are barbarous & vnnaturall Huntsemen, for they range vp and downe the Deserts, the Wildernes, and inhabitable Mountaines. Others pursue the long liued Hart, the couragious Stag or the nimble footed Deere: these are the Noblest Hunting of the Bucke. hunters, and they exercise the Noblest game: these by following the Chace get strength of body, a frée and vndisquieted minde, magnanimity of spirit, alacri­ty of heart and an vnwearisomnesse to breake through the hardest labours: their pleasures are not insatiable but are contented to be kept within limits, for these hunt within Parkes inclosed, or within bounded Forrests. The hunting of the Hare teaches feare to be bould, and puts simplicity so to her shifts, that she growes cun­ning Hunting of the Hare. and prouident: the turnings and cresse windings that she makes, are embleames of [...] [...]fes vncertainty: when she thinkes she is furdest from danger, it is at he héeles, and when it is nerest to her, the hand of safety de­fends her. When she is wearied and has runne her race, she takes her death patiently, onely to teach man, that he should make himselfe redy, when the graue gapes for him.

All these kinds of hunting are abroad in the open De magno praeda petenda grege. field, but there is a close citty hunting onely within the walls, that pulles downe Parkes, layes open forrests, destroies Chaces, woundes the Déere of the land, and make such hauocke of the goodliest Heards, that by their wills, (who are the rangers,) none should be left a liue but the Rascalls: This kinds of hunting is base, and ig­noble, It is the meanest, yet the most mischieuous, & it is called Ferreting. To behold acourse or two at this, did the light horseman of Hell one day leape into the saddle.

Citty-Hunting.

THis Ferret-hunting hath his Seasons as other What persons follovv the game of Fer­ret hunting. games haue, and is onely followed at such a time of yeare, when the Gentry of our kingdome by riots, ha­uing chased them-selues out of the faire reuenewes and large possession left to them by their ancestors, are forced to hide their heads like Conies, in little caues and in vn­frequented places: or else being almost windles, by run­ning after sensuall pleasures too feircely, they are glad Dolor ac v [...] ­luptas inuicem cedunt. (for keeping them-selues in breath so long as a they can) to tal to Ferret-hunting, yt is to say, to take vp commodities. No warrant can bée graunted for a Bucke in this forrest, but it must passe vnder these fiue hands.

  • 1 He that hunts vp and downe to find game, is called the Tombler.
    The tragedy of Ferret-hun­ting diuided into 5 acts.
  • 2 The commodities that are taken vp are cald Purse­nets.
  • 3 The Cittizen that selles them is the Ferret.
  • 4 They that take vp are the Rabbet-suckers.
  • 5 He, vpon whose credit these Rabbet-suckers runne, is called the Warren.

How the Warren is made.

AFter a raine, Conies vse to come out of their Holes and to sit nibling on wéeds or any thing in the coole of the euening, and after a reueling when youn­ger brothers haue spent al, or in gaming haue lost al, they sit plotting in their chambers with necessity how to be Nam illa om­nes artes perde cet, vbi quem attigit. furnished presently with a new supply of money. They would take vp any commodity whatsoeuer, but their names stand in too many texted letters all ready in Mer­cers and Scriueners bookes: vpon a hundred poundes worth of Roasted bée [...]e they could finde in their hearts to venture, for that would away in turning of a hand: but where shall they find a Butcher or a Cooke that will let any man runne so much vpon the score for flesh onely? [Page] Suppose therefore that Foure of such loose fortun'd gal­lants were tied in one knot, and knew not how to fasten themselues vpon some welthy cittizen. At the length it runnes into their heads, that such a young Nouice (who daily serues to fill vp their company) was neuer intang­led in any citty limebush: they know his present meanes to be good, and thos to come to be great: him therefore they lay vpon the Anuill of their wits, till they haue wrought him like war, for him-selue as well as for them: to doe any thing in war, or indéed till they haue won him [...] specta [...] [...] laeso [...]; le­ [...]untur & ipsi to slide vpon this ice, because he knowes not the dan­ger) is he easily drawne: for he considers within him­selfe that they are all gentlemen well descended, they haue rich fathers, they weare good clothes, haue bin gal­lant spenders, and do now and then (still) let it fly fréely: hee is to venture vppon no more rockes than all they, what then should hée feare? hée therefore resolues to do it, and the rather because his owne exhibition runnes low, & that there lacke a great many wéekes to the quarter day, at which time, he shalbe refurnished from his father. The Match being thus agréed vpon, one of them that has béene an ould Ferret-monger, & knowes all the trickes of such Hūting, séekes out a Tumb [...] [...]hat is to say a fellow, who beates the bush for them till [...]hey catch the birds, he himselfe being contented (as he protests & sweares) onely with a few fethers.

The tumblers Hunting dry-foote.

THis Tumbler being let loose runnes Snuffing The nature of a London Tumbler. vp and downe close to the ground, in the shoppes either of Mercers, Gouldsmithes, Drapers, Haber-bashers, or of any other trade, where hée thinckes hee may méete with a Ferret: and tho vpon his very first course, hee can find his ga [...]e, yet to make his gallants more hungry, and to thinke he wearies himselfe in hun­ting the more, hee comes to them sweating and swea­ring that the Citty Ferrets are so coaped (thats to say [Page] haue their lips stitched vp so close) that hee can hardly get them open to so great a sum as siue hundred roundes which they desire. This heat be beeing chewd towne N [...]l [...]bet [...] l [...]x [...] du [...]ius [...], Q [...]n [...]d r [...] [...] s [...]cit. by the Rabber-suckers almost his their hearts, and is worse to them then dabbing on the neckes to Connies. They bid him if he cannot fasten his teeth vpon plate or Cloth, or Silkes, to lay hold on browne paper or To­bacco, Bartholmew babies, Lute stringes or Hob­nailes, or two hundred poundes in Saint Thomas O­nions and the rest in mony; the Onions they coulde get wenches enough to cry and sell them by the Rope, and what remaines should serue them with mutton. Uppon this, their Tumbler trottes vppe and downe a­gen, and at last lighting on a Cittizen that will deale, the names are receiued, and deliuered to a Scriuener, who enquiring whether they bee good men and true, that are to passe vppon the life and death of fiue hundred poundes, findes that foure of the fiue, are winde-shaken, and ready to fall into the Lordes handes, Marry the fift man, is an Oake, and theres hope that he cannot bee hewed downe in haste. Uppon him therefore the Citti­zen buildes so much as comes to fiue hundred poundes, yet takes in the other foure to make them serue as scaf­folding, till the Farme bee furnished, and if then it hold, he cares not greatly who takes them downe. In al hast, are the bondes seald, and the commodities deli­uered, And then does the Tumbler fetch his second car­reere, and thats this.

The Tumblers Hunting Counter.

THe wares which they fished for beeing in the hand of the fiue shauers, do now more trouble their wits how to turne those Wares into reddy mony, then bee­fore they were troubled to turn their credits into wares. The Tree being once more to be shaken, they knowe it must loose fruite, and therefore their Factor must barter away theiMarchandise, tho it be withlosse: Abroad is in­to [Page] the Cittie he Sailes for that purpose, and deales with him that sold, to buy his owne Commodities againe for ready mony; He will not doe it vnder 30. l. losse in the Hundred: Other Archers bowes are tryed at the same marke, but al keepe much about one scantling: back ther­fore comes their Carrier with this newes, that no man will disburse so much present money vppon any wares whatsoeuer. Onely he met by good fortune with one friend (and that friend is himselfe) who for 10 l. wil pro­cure them a Chapman, marry that chapman wil not buy vnlesse he may haue them at 30. l. losse in the Hundred: fuh, try all the Sharers, a por on these Fox-furd Cur­mudgions, giue that fellow your friend 10. l. for his paines, & fetch the rest of his money: within an houre af­ter, it is brought, and powr'd downe in one heape vppon a tauerne table; where making a goodly shew as if it could neuer be spent, al of thē consult what fée the Tumbler is to haue for Hunting so wel, and conclude that lesse then 10. l they cannot giue him, which 10. l. is ye first mony told out Now let vs cast vp this Account: In euery 100. l. is lost 30. which being 5. times 30. l. makes 150. l. that Dedit hanc c [...]ntagio labē, et Dabit in plures. Sum the Ferret puts vp cleer besides his ouer-prising the wares: vnto which 1 [...]0. l lost, ad 10, l more which the Tumbler guls them off, & other 10. l. which he hath for his voyage, al which makes 170. l. which deducted from 500. l. there remaineth onely 330. to be deuided amongst 5. so that euery one of ye partners shall haue but 66. l. yet this they all put vp merily, washing down their losses we Sack and Sugar, whereof they drinke that night pro­foundly.

How the Warren is spoyled.

VVHilst this faire weather lasteth, and that [...] sthere is any grasse to nibble vpon. These Rabbee uc­kers kéep to the Warren wherein they fatned. but th cold day of repaiment approaching, they retire deepe into their Caues; so that when the Ferret makes account to haue fiue before him in chase, foure of the fiue ly hiddē, [Page] & are stolne into other grounds. No maruell then if the Ferret growe fierce & teare open his owniawes, to suck blood from him that is left: no maruaile if he seratch what wool he can frō his back: the Pursnets yt were Set are all Taken vp and carried away. The Warren therfore must bee Searched, That must pay for all, ouer that does hee range like a little [...]ord. Sargeants, Marshals-men, and Baliffes are sent forth, who lie scowting at euery corner, & with terrible pawes haunt euery walke. In conclusion the bird that these Hawkes flie after, is seazd vpon, then are his fethers pluck'd, his estate look'd into, thē are his wings broken, his lā [...]s made ouer to a strāger: then must our yong son and heire pay 500. l (for which he neuer had but 66. l.) or else lie in prison. To kéep himselfe from which, he seales to any bond, enters into any statut, mor­gageth any Lordship, Does any thing, Saies any thing, Infelix [...] excidit ipse fuis. yéelds to pay any thing, And these Citty stormes (which will wet a man till be haue neuer a dry threed about him, tho he be kept neuer so warme) fall not vpon him once or twise: But being a little way in, he cares not how déepe he wades: ye greater his possessions are, the apter he is to Grandia per­multo [...] te [...] ­antur Flumi­na rio [...]. take vp & to be trusted: the more he is trusted, the more he comes in debt, the farther in debt, the neerer to danger. Thus Gentlemen are wrought vpō, thus are they Che­ated, thus are they Ferreted, thus are they Vndonne.

Fawlconers.

Of a new kinde of Hawking, teaching how to catch birds by bookes.

HVnting and Hawking are of kin, and therefore it is fit they should kéepe company together: Both of them are noble Games, and Recreations, honest and healthful, Hawking. yet they may so be abused that nothing can be more hurt­full. In Hunting, the Game is commonly still before you, or [...]'th hearing, and within a little compasse: In Haw­king [Page] the game flies farre off, and oftentunes out of sight: A Couple of Rookes therefore (that were birds of Facies non om­ [...] [...], nec diuers at a men the last feather) conspired together to leaue their nest in the Citty, and to flutter abroad, into the countrie: Upon two leane hac [...]eies were these two Doctor doddipols horst, Ciuilly suited, that they might carry about them some badge of a Scholler.

The diuels Ranck-ryder, that came from the last Cit­ty-hūting, vnderstanding that two such Light-horsemen, were gon a Hawking, posts after and ouer-takes them. After some ordinary high-way talk, he begins to question of what profession they were? One of them smyling scorn­fully in his face, as thinking him to be some Gull, (and [...]indeed such fellowes take all men for Gulles who they Qui nisi quod ipsifaciunt, nihil rectum putant. thinke to be beneath them in quallitie) tolde him they were Falconers. But the Fore that followed them see­ing no properties, (belonging to a Falconer) about them smelt knauery, took them for a paire of mad rascals, & ther­fore resolued to see at what these Falconers would let flie.

How to cest vp the Lure.

AT last on a suddaine saies on of them to him, sir, wee haue Sprung a Patridge, and so fare you wel▪ which wordes came stammering out with the haste that they The first Noate made, for presently the two Forragers of the Countrie, were vppon thr Spurre: Plutoes Post seeing this stood still to watch them, and at length saw them in maine gal­lop make toward a goodly faire place, where either some Knight or some great Gentleman kept, and this goodly house belike was the Partridge which those falconers had sprung. Hee beeing loath to loose his share in this Haw­king, and hauing power to transforme himselfe as hee listed, came thither as soone as they, but beheld all (which they did) inuisible. They both like two Knights Errant alighted at the Gate, knocked and were lette in: the one walkes the Hackneyes in an outward Court, as if hee had bene but Squire to Sir Dagonet. The o­ther [Page] (as boldly as Saint George when he dar'd the dra­gon at his verrie Den) marcheth vndauntedly vp to the Hall, where looking ouer those poore creatures of the house, that weare but the bare Blew coates (for A quila non capit Muscas) what should a Falconer meddle with flies? hee onely salutes him that in his eye seemes to bee a Gentleman like fellow: Of him he askes for his good Knight or so, and saies that he is a * Gentleman come Et qua nō f [...] mus ipsi, vix e [...] nost [...]a voco: from London on a businesse, which he must deliuer to his owne Worshipfull Eare. Up the staires does braue Mount-Dragon ascend, the Knight and he encounter, and with this staffe does he valiantly charge vpon him.

How the Bird is Caught.

SIr I am a poore * Scholler, and the report of your vertues hath drawne me hither, venturously bolde to fixe your worthy name as a patronage to a poore short dis­course Sen stos fuit il [...] le C [...]ucus Frange Puer Calamos et inanes [...]esere Musas Quid nisi Monstra legis? which here I dedicate (out of my loue) to your no­ble and eternall Memory: this speech he vtters barely.

The Hawking pamphleter is then bid to put on, whilst his Miscellane Maecenas; opens a booke fairely a­parreld in vellom with gilt fillets & fore-penny silke rib­bon at least, like little streamers on the top of a March­pane Castle, hanging dandling by at ye foure corners, the title being superficially suruaide, in the next leafe he sees that the Author hee, hath made him one of his Gossips for the booke carries his worships name, & vnder it stands an Epistle iust the length of a Hench-mans grace before dinner, which is long inough for any booke in conscience, vnlesse the writer be vnreasonable.

The knight being told before hand, that this little sun­beame of Phoebus (shining thus briskly in print) hath his Mite or At my wayting vppon him in the outward court) thankes him for his loue and labour, and conside­ring with himselfe, what cost he hath beene at, and how farre he hath ridden to come to him, he knowes that Pa­trons and Godfathers, are to pay scot and lot alike, and [Page] therefore to cherish his young and tender Muse, he giues him foure or sixe Angells, inuiting him either to stay breakefast, or if the sun-diall of the hou [...]e points towards eleuen, then to tary dinner.

How the bird is drest.

BUt the fish being caught (for which our Heliconian Angler threw out his lines) with thankes, and legs and kissing his own hand, he parts. No sooner is he horst, but his Hostler (who all this while walked the iades, and trauailes vp & down with him (like an vnde seruing plai­er for halfe a share) askes this question Strawes or not? Strawes cries the whole sharer and a halfe, away then [...]ulius quoq▪ [...]. replies the first, flie to our nest: This nest is neuer in the same towne but commonly a mile or two off and it is no­thing els but the next Tauerne they come to. But the Uillage into which they rode being not able to maintaine an Iuybush, an Ale-house was their Inne: where ad­uancing How birds are drest after they be caught. themselues into the fairest Chamber, and bee­speaking the best cheere in the towne for dinner, down they sit, & share before they speake of any thing els: That done, he that ventures vpon all he meetes, and discharges the paper Bullets, (for to tell truth, the other serues but as a signe, and is méerely nobody) beginnes to discourse, how he caried himselfe in the action, how he was encoun­tred: how he stood to his tackling and how well hee came off: he cals the Knight, a Noble fellow, yet they both shrug, and laugh, and sweares they are glad they haue Guld him.

More arrowes must they shoote of the same length that this first was off, and therfore there is Trunck ful of Trinckets, thats to say, their budget of Bookes, is opend againe, to see what leafe they are to turne ouer next, which whilst they are dooing, the Ghost that al this space haunted them and hard what they said, hauing excellent, skill in the blacke-art, thats to say in picking of lockes, maks the dore suddenly flye open (which they had closely [Page] shut. At his strange entrance they being somwhat agast, began to shuffle away their bookes, but he knowing what cardes they plaide withal, offred to cut, and turnd vp two Knaues by this trick. My maisters (quoth he) I knowe where you haue bin, I know what you haue don, I know what you meane to do, I sée now you are Falconers in­deed, but by the (and then he swore a damnable oth) vn­lesse you teach me to shoote in this Birding peece, I will raise the Uillage, send for the knight whome you boast you haue guld, and so disgrace you: for your money I care not.

The two Frée-booters seeing themselues smoakd, told their third Brother, he seemd to be a gentleman and a boone companion, they prayed him therefore to sit downe with silence, and sithence dinner was not yet ready, hée should heare all.

This new kinde of Hawking (qd. one of them) which you see vs vse can afford no name vnles [...], be at it. viz.

  • 1. He that casts vp the Lure is calld the Falconer.
  • 2 The Lure that is cast vp is an idle Pamphlet.
  • 3. The Tercel Gentle that comes to the Lure, is some knight or some gentle man of like qualitie.
  • 4. The Bird that is preied vpon, is Money.
  • 5. Hee that walkes the horses, and hunts dry foote is cald a Mongrell.

The Falconer and his Spaniell.

THe Falconer hauing scraped together certaine small paringes of witte, he first cuttes them hansomely in pretty peeces, and of those peeces does he patch vppe a booke. This booke he prints at his own charge, the Mon­grell running vppe ano downe to look to the workemen, and béaring likewise some parte of the cost, (for which he enters vpon his halfe share) When it is fully finished, the Falconer and his Mongrell, or it may bée two Fal­coners ioyne in one,) but howsoeuer, it is by them deui­sed what Shire in England it is best to forrage next: [Page] that beeing set downe, the Falconers deale either with a Herauld for a note of all the Knights and Gentlemens names of worth that dwell in that circuit, which they meane to ride, or els by inquiry get the chiefest of them, printing of so many Epistles as they haue names, ye epis­tles Dedicatory being all one, and vary in nothing but in the titles of their patrons.

Hauing thus furnished themselues and packed vp their wa [...]es, away they trudge like tinckers, with a budget at strange haw­king. one of their backes, or it may be the circle they meane to coniure in shall not be out of London, especially if it be Tearme-time, or when a Parliament is holden (for then they haue choise of sweete-meats to féed vppon. (If a gen­tleman seeing one of these bookes Dedicated onely to his name, suspect it to be a bastard, that hath more fathers be­sides himselfe, and to try that, does deferre the Presenter for a day or two, sending in the meane time (as some haue done) into Paules Church-yard amongst the stationers, to inquire if any such worke be come forth, & if they can­not tell, then to steppe to the Printers: Yet haue the Fal­coners a tricke to goe beyond such Hawkes too, for all they flye so hie. And that is this: The bookes lye all at the Printers, but not one line of an epistle to any of them (those bug-bears lurke in T [...]ebris) if then the Spy that is sent by his Maister, ask why they haue no dedications to them, Mounsier Printer tels him, the author would not venture to adde any to them all, (sauing onely to that which was giuen to his Maister, vntill it was knowne whether he could accept of it or no.

This sati [...]es the Patron, this fetches money from him: and this Cozens fiue hundred besides. Nay there bée othere Bird catchers that vse stranger Quaile-pipes: you shal haue fellowes, foure or fiueina contry, that buy­ing vp any old Booke (especially a Sermon, or any other matter of Diuinity) that lies for wast-paper, and is clean forgotten, ad a new-printed Epistle to it, and with an Al­phabet of letters which they cary about them, being able [Page] to print any mans names (for a Dedication) on the sud­daine, trauaile vp and downe most [...] Shires in Englād, and liue by this Hawking.

Are we not excellent Falconers now (quoth three half shares?) excellent v [...]laines cryed the deuils Deputy: by this the meate (for dinner came smoaking in, vpon which they f [...]ll most tirannically, yet (for maners sake) offring first, to the Bali [...] of Belzebub the vpper end of the table, but he fearing they would make a Hauke or a Buzzard of him too, and report they had ridden him like an Asse, as they had done others, out a doores hee flung with a ven­geance as he came.

O sacred Learning▪ why doost thou suffer thy seauen leaued tree, to be plucked by barbarous and most vnhal­lowed handes? Why is thy beatifull Maiden-body, pol­luted like a strumpets, and prostituted to beastly and sla­uish C [...]rego si neq ignore (que) Pot [...]a salutor Ignorance? O thou Base-broode, that make the Muses harlots: yet say they are your Mothers? You Theeues of Wit, Cheators of Arte, traitors of schooles of Learning: murderers of Schollers. More worthy you are, to vndergoe the Romane Furca like slaues, and to be brandedith fore-head deeper then they that forge testa­ments to vndoe Orphants: Such doe but rob children of goods that may be lost: but you rob Schollers of their Fame, which is deerer then life. You are not worth an Inuectiue, not worthy to haue your names dropp out of a deseruing pen, you shall onely bee executed in Picture: (as they vse to handle Malefactors in France) and the picture (though it were drawne to be hang vp in another place) shal leaue you impudently-arrogāt to yourselues, and ignominiously-ridiculous to after ages: in these col­lours, are you drawne.

The true picture of these Falconers.

—There be Fellowes
[...] superi­quantum pec­tora cae [...] N [...]ctis Habē [...]
Of course and common bloud; Mechanicke knaues,
Whose wits lye deeper buried then in graues:
And indeede smell more earthy, whose creation
[Page] Was but to giue a Boote or Shooe good fashion.
Yet these (throwing by the Apron and the Awle)
Being drunck with their own wit, cast vp their gall
[...]cribimus [...], [...];
Onely ofyncke: and in patchd, beggerly Rimes,
(As full of fowle corruption, as the Times)
From towne to towne they s [...]rowle in soule, as poore
As th'are in clothes: yet these at euery doore,
Their labors Dedicate. But (as at Faires)
Like Pedlars, they shew still one sort of wares
Vnto all commers (with some filde oration)
And thus to giue bookes, now's an occupation.
One booke hath seauen score patrons: thus desart
[...]serum est aliorum incū ­bere fa [...]mae
Is cheated of her due: thus noble art
Giues Ignorance (that common strumpet) place,
Thus the true schollers name growes cheap & base, &c

Iacks of the Clock-house.
Chap. 6

A new and cunning drawing of money from Gentlemen.

THere is another Fraternitie of wandring Pilgrims who merrily call themselues Iackes of the Clocke-house, and are verry neere allyed to the Falconers that went a Hawking before. The Clarke of Erebus set downe their names too in his Tables, with certain bréefe notes of their practises: and these they are.

The Iacke of a Clocke-house goes vppon Screws, and his office is to do nothing but strike: so does this noise, (for they walke vp and downe like Fi [...]lers) trauaile with Motions, and whatsoeuer their Motions get them, is called striking.

Those Motions are certaine Collections, or wittie Inuentions, some-times of one thing, and then of an other (there is a new one now in [...]ime, in praise of the Vnion) And these are fairely written and engrossed in Uell [...]m, Parcheme [...], or Royall paper, richly adorned [Page] with compartiments, and set out with letters both in gold and in vations coullo [...]s.

This labour being taken, the Maister of the Motion hearkens where such a Nobleman, such a Lord, or such a Knight lyes, that is liberall: hauing found one to his liking, The Motion (with his Patrons name fairely texted out, in manner of a Dedication,) is presented before him: he receiues it, and thinking it to be a work onely vndertaken for his sake, is bounteous to the gi­uer, esteeming him a Scholler, and knowing that not without great trauaile, hee hath drawne so many little [...]gling streames into so faire and smoothe a Riuer: whereas the Worke is the labour of some other (copied out by stealth) be an impudent ignorant fellow, that runnes vp and downe with the Transcripts, and euery Ale-house may haue one of them (hanging in the basest drinking roome) if they will bee but at the charges of writing it out. Thus the liberallitie of a Nobleman, or of a Gentleman is abused: thus learning is brought into scorne and contempt: Thus men are cheated of their bountie, giuing much for that (out of their free mindes) which is common abroad, and put away for base prices. Thus villanie some-times walkes alone, as if it were giuen to Melancholly, and some-times knaues tie them-selues in a knot, because they may be more merry, as by a mad sort of Comrades whome I see leaping into the Saddle, anon it will apeare.

Rancke Riders,
Chap. 7.

The manner of Cozening Inn-keepers. Post-maisters and Hackny men.

THere is a troope of Horsemen, that runne vp and downe the whole kingdome, they are euer in a gal­lop, their businesse is weightie, their iournies many, [Page] their expences greate, their Innes rustie where, their lands no where: they haue onely a certaine Fr [...]e-holde cald Tyborne (scituate neere London, and many a faire paire of Gallowes in other Countries besides,) vppon which they li [...]e verie poorely fill they dye, and dye for the moste part wickedly, because their liues are villanous and desperate. But what [...]ce so euer they runne, there they end it there they set vp their rest, there is their last baste, whether soeuer their [...]ourney lyes. And these horse-men haue no other names but ranck Riders.

To furnish whome foorth for any iourney, they must haue Kiding sutes cut out of these foure peeces.

  • 1 The Inne-kéeper or Hackney-man, of whome they haue horses, is cald A Colt.
  • 2 He that neuer alights off a rich Farmer or country Gentleman, till he haue drawne money from him, is cal­led The Snaffle.
  • 3 The money so gotten, is The Ring
  • 4 He that feedes them with mony is called The pro­uander.

These Ranck-riders (like Butchers to Rumford mar­ket) sildome goe vnder sire or seauen in a company, and these Careeres they fetch. Their pursses being warm­ly lined with some purchase gotten before, and they thē ­selues well booted and spur'd, and in reasonable good out­sides, arriue at the fairest Inne they can choose, either in Westminster, the Strand, the Cittie, or the Suburbes. Two of them who haue cloathes of purpose to fitte the play, carrying the shew of Gentlemen: the other a [...] their partes in blew coates, as they were their Seruingmen, though indeede they be all fellowes. They enter all dur­ted The manner of Brideling a colt. or dustied (according as it shall please the high way to vse them) and the first bridle they put into the Colts mouth (thats to say the Inkeepers) is at their comming in to asks alowde if the footeman begone backe with the horses? tis answered yes, Heere, the Ranck-riders lye three or foure daies, spending moderately enough, yet a­abating [Page] not a penny of any reckoning to shew of what house they came: in wt space their counterfeit followers learne what country-man the maister of the house is, where the Hostlars and Chamberlaines were borne, and what other countrie Gentlemen are guests to the Inne? which lessons being presently gotten by heart, they fal in studdy with the Generall rules of their knauerie: and those are, first to giue out, that their Maister is a Gentle­man of such and such meanes, in such a shire (which shall be sure to stand farre enough from those places where a­ny of the house, or of other guests were borne,) that hee is come to receiue so many hundred poundes vppon land which he hath solde, and that hee meanes to Inne there some quarter of a yeare at least.

This Brasse money passing for currant through the house, hée is more obserued and better attended, is wor­shipped at euerie word: and the easier to breake and bridle the Colt, his Worship will not sit downe to Din­ner or supper, till the Maister of the house be placed at the vpper end of the boord by him.

In the middle of Supper, or else verie earely in the fol­lowing morning, comes in a counterfeit footeman, swea­tingly, deliuering a message that such a Knight hath sent for the head-Maister of these Rancke-ryders, and that hee must bee with him by such an houre, the iourney being not aboue twelue or foureteene miles. Upon de­liuerie of this message: (from so deere and noble a friend) he sweares and chafes, because all his horses are out of Towne, curseth the sending of them backe, offers any money to haue himselfe, his couzen with him, and his mē but reasonably horst. Mine host being a credulous Asse, suffers them all to get vppe vpon him, for hee prouides them horses either of his owne (thinking his Guest to be a man of great accompte; and beeing loath to loose him, because hee spends well) or else sendes out to hire them of his neighbours, passing his word for their forth­comming [Page] with in a day or two, Up they get and away Gallopour Ranck-riders, as far as the poore Iades can carry them.

The two daies being ambled out of the worlde, and perhaps three more after them, yet neither a supply of Horse-men or Foote-men, (as was promised) to be set eye vppon. The lamentable In-keeper (or Hac [...]ney man, if he chance to be Sadled for this iourney too) loose their Colts teeth, and finde that they are made olde arrant Iades: Search, then runnes vp and downe like a Con­stable halfe out of his wittes (vppon a Shroue-tuesday) and hue and cry followes after, some twelue or foure­teene miles off, (round about London) which was the farthest of their iourney as they gaue out. But (alas!) the horses are at pasture foure score or a hundred miles from their olde mangers: they were sould at some blinde drunken theeuish faire, (there beeing enow of them in company to saue themselues, by their Toll-booke,) the Seruing-men cast off their blew-coates, and cried All fellowes: the money is spent vpon wine, vpon whores, vpon fidlers, vpō fooles (by whom they wil loose nothing) and the tyde beeing at an ebbe, they are as ready to pra­ctise their skill in horse-manship to bring Coltes to the saddle in that Towne, and to make Nags run a race of three-score or a hundred miles of from that place, as before they did from London.

Running at the Ring.

THus, solong as Horseflesh can make them fat, they neuer leaue feeding. But when they haue beaten so many high-waies in seuerall countries, that they feare to be ouer-taken by Tracers, then (like Soldiers comming from a Breach) they march faire & softly on foot, lying in garrison as it were, close in some out townes, til the foule Rumor of their Uillanies (like a stormy durty winter) be blown ouer: In which time of lurking in ye shel, they are not idle neither, but like snailes they venture abroad tho [Page] the law hath threatned to rain down neuer so much pu­uish [...]t vpon them: and what do they? they are not bees, to liue by their owne painfull labors, but Drones that must eat vp the sweetnesse, and be fedde with the ear­nings of others: This therefore is their worke. They carelesly inquire what gentleman of worth, or what rich Farmers dwell within fiue, six or seauen miles of the Fort where they are [...] (which they may do with­out suspition) and hauing go [...]te their names, they single out themselues in a morning, and each man takes a seue­rall path to himselfe: one goes East, one West, one North, and the other South: walking either in bootes with wandes in their handes, or otherwise, for it is all to one purpose. And note this by the way, that when they trauell thus on foot, they are no more call'd Ranck-riders but Strowlers, a proper name giuen to Country plaiers, that (without Socks) trotte from towne to towne vpon the hard hoofe.

Being arriu'd at the Gate where the Gentleman or Farmer dwelleth, he boldly knocke, inquiring for him by name, and steppes in to speake with him: the seruant sée­ing a fashionable person, tells his Maister there is a Gentleman desires to speake with him: the maister come and salutes him, but eying him well, saies he does not know him: No Sir, replies the other (with a face bolde ynough) it may be so, but I pray you Sir, will you walke aturne or two in your Orchard or Garden, I would there conferre: Hauing got him thether, to this tune he plaies vppon him.

How the snaffle is put on

SIr, I am a Gentleman, borne to better meanes then my present fortunes doe allow me: I serued in the field, and had commaunde there, But long peace (you knowe Sir) is the Cancker that eates vp Soul­d [...]ers, and so it hath mee. I lie heere not far off, in the Country at mine Inn [...], where staying vppon the [Page] dispatch of some businesse, I am indebted to the house in m [...]neys, so that I cannot with the credit of a Gentleman leaue toe house till I haue paide them. Make mee sir so much beholden to your loue as to lend me fortye or fiftie shilings to beare my horse and my selfe to London, from whence within a day or two, I shall send you many thanks with a faithful repayment of your curtesie.

The honest Gentleman, or the good natur'd Farmer beholding a personable man, fashionably attit'd, and not carrying in outward coullors, the face of a cogging knaue giues credit to his words, are forty that they are not at this present time so well furnished as they could wish, but if a matter of twenty shillings can stead him, he shall commaund it, because it were pi [...]tie any honest Gentle­man should for so small a matter mistarry. Happilye they meete with some Chap-men that giue them their owne asking; but howsoeuer, all is fish that comes to net, they are the most conscionable market folkes that euer rode betweene two paniers, for from fortie they will fall to twentie, from twenty to ten, from ten to fiue: nay these mountibanckes are so base, that they are not asha­med to take two shillings of a plaine husbandman, and sometimes sixe pence (which the other giues simply and honestly) of whome they demaunded a whole fifteene.

In this mann [...]r doe they digge siluer out of mens pur­ses, all the day, and at night meet together at the appoin­ted Rendeuouz, where all these Snaffles are loosed to their full length, the Ringes which that day they haue made are worne. The Prouender is praised or disprai­sed, as they finde it in goodnesse, but it goes downe all, whilst they laugh at all.

And thus does a Common-wealth bring vp children, that care not how they discredit her, or vndoe her: who would imagine that Birdes so faire in shewe, and so sweete in voice, should be so dangerous in condition? but Ra [...]ens thinke carryon the daintiest meate, and vil­lains [Page] estéeme most of that mony which is purchast by basenes.

The Under Shriffe for the county of the Cacodemōs, knowing into what arrerages these Rank-tiders were runne for horse-flesh to his maister, (of whome he far­med the office) sent out his writs to attach them, and so narrowly pursued thē, that for all they were wel horst, some he sent post to the gallowes, and the rest to seuerall iayles: After which, making all the hast he posibly could to get to London againe, he was way-layd by an army of a strange & new found people.

Moone men.
CHAP. VIII.

A discouery of a strange wild people, very dangerous to townes and country villages.

A Moone-man signifies in English, a mad-man, be­cause the Moone hath greatest domination (aboue any other Planet) ouer the bodies of Frantick persons. But these Moone-men (whose Images are now to be carued) are neither absolutely mad, not yet perfectely in their wits) Their name they borrow from the Moone, because as the Moone is neuer in one shape two nights together, but wanders vp & downe Heauen, like an An­ticke, so these changeable-stuffe-companions neuer tary one day in a place, but are the onely, and the onely base Ronnagats vpon earth. And as in the Moone there is a man, that neuer stirres without a bush of thornes at his backe, so these Moone-men lie vnder bushes, & are indéed no better then Hedge creepers.

They are a people more scattred then Iewes, and more hated: beggerly in apparell, barbarous in conditi­on, beastly in behauior: and bloudy if they meete aduā ­tage. A man that sees them would sweare they ha [...] all the yellow Iawndis, or that they were Tawny Moores What a moone man is, bastardes, for no Red-oaker man caries a face of a more [Page] filthy complexion, yet are they not borne so, neither has the Sunne burnt them so, but they are painted so, yet they are not good painters neither: for they do not make faces, but marre faces. By a by name they are called Gipsies, they call themselues Egiptians, others in moc­kery call them Moone-men.

If they be Egiptians, sure I am they neuer discended from the tribes of any of those people that came out of the Land of Egypt: Ptolomy (King of the Egiptians) I warrant neuer called them his Subiects: no nor Pharao before him. Looke what difference there is betwéene a ciuell cittizen of Dublin & a wilde Irish Kerne, so much difference there is betwéene one of these counterfeit Egiptians and a true English Begger. An English Roague is iust of the same liuery.

They are commonly an army about foure-score cong, yet they neuer march with all their bagges and His orde [...] in marching on foote or ser­uing open horse. baggages together, but (like boot-halers) they forrage vp and downe countries, 4. 5. 026. in a company. As the swi­zer has his wench and his Cocke with him whē he goes to the warres, so these vagabonds haue their harlots with a number of litle children following at their héeles: which young brood of Beggers, are sometimes caried (like so many gréene geese aliue to a market) in payres of panieres, or in dossers like fresh-fish from Rye ye comes on horsebacke, (if they be but infants.) But if they can stradle once, then aswell the shee-roagues as the hee-roagues are horst, seauen or eight vpon one iade, strong­ly pineond, and strangely tyed together.

One Shire alone & no more is sure stil at one time, to haue these Egiptian lice swarming within it, for like flockes of wild-géese, they will euermore fly one after another: let them be scattred worse then the quarters of a traitor are after hées hang'd drawne and quartred, yet they haue a tricke (like water cut with a swoord) to come together instantly and easily againe: and this is their pollicy, which way soeuer theformost [...] anckes lead, [Page] they sticke vp small boughes in seuerall places, to euery village where they passe, which serue as ensignes to waft on the rest.

Their apparell is od, and phantasticke, tho it be neuer so full of rents: the men weare scarses of Callico, or any other base stuffe, hanging their bodies like Morris-dan­cers, His Furniture with bels, & other toyes, to intice the coūtrey people to flocke about them, and to wounder at their fooleries or rather rancke knaueryes. The women as ridicu­lously attire them-selues, and (like one that plaies, the Roague on a Stage) weare rags, and patched filthy mantles vpermost, when the vnder garments are han­some and in fashion.

The battailes these Out-lawes make, are many and His manner of night. very bloudy. Whosoeuer falles into their hands neuer escapes aliue, & so cruell they are in these murders, that nothing can satisfie thē but the very heart bloud of those whom they kill. And who are they (thinke you) that thus go to the pot? Alasse! Innocent Lambs, Shéep, Calues, Pigges, &c. Poultrie-ware are more churlishly handled by them, thē poore prisoners are by kéepers in the counter it'h Poultry. A goose comming amongst them learnes to be wise, that hee neuer wil be Goose any more. The bloudy tragedies of al these, are only acted by ye Womē, who carrying long kniues or Skeanes vnder their man­tles, do thus play their parts: The Stage is some large Heath: or a Firre bush Common, far from any houses: Upō which casting them-selues into a King, they inclose the Murdered, till the Massacre be finished. If any pas­senger come by, and wondring to sée such a cōiuring cir­cle kept by Hel-hoūdes, demaund what spirits they raise there? one of the Murderers steps to him, poysons him [...] sweete wordes and shifts him off, with this lye, ye one of the womé is falne in labour. But if any mad H [...]let hea­ring this, smell villanie, & rush in by violence to sée what the taw [...]y Diuels are dooing: thē they excuse the fact, lay the blame on those that are the Actors, & perhaps (if they [Page] see no reme [...]e) deliuer them to an officer, to be had to punishment: But by the way a rescue is utely laid and very valiantl [...] (tho very villanously) do they fetch them off, a guard them.

The Cabbines where these Land-pyrates lodge in the night, are the Out-ba [...]es of Farmers & Husband-men, (in some poore Uillage or other) who dare not deny them, for feare they should ere morning haue their thatched houses burning about their eares: inthese Ba [...]nes, are hoth their Cooke-roomes, their Supping P [...]ors and their Bed-chambers: for there they dresse after a beastly manner: what soeuer they purchast after a théeu [...]h fashion: sometimes they eate Uenison, & haue Grey houndes that kill it for thē, but if they had not, they are Houndes them-selues & are damnable Hunters af­ter flesh: Which appeares by their vgly-fac'd queanes that follow them: with whom in these barnes they lie, as Swine do together in Hogsties.

These Barnes are the beds of Incests, Whoredomes Adulteries, & of all other blacke and deadly-damned Im­pi [...]ies; His qualities w [...]st he lies intrenched. here growes the Cursed Tree of Bastardie, that is so fruitfull: here are writtē the Bookes of al Blasphe­mies, Swearings & Curses, yt are so dreadfull to be read. Yet the simple country people will come running out of their houses to gaze vpō them whilst in the meane time one steales into the next Roome, and brings away what­soeuer hee can lay hold on. Upon daies of pastime & liber­tie, they Spred them-selues in smal companies amōgst What peeces of desperate seruice hee ventures vpō the Uillages: and when young maids & batchelers (yea sometimes old doting fooles, that should be beatē to this world of villanies, & forewarn others) do flock about thē, they then professe shil in Palmestry, & (forsooth) can tel fortunes which for the most part are infallibly true, by reason that they worke vppon rules, which are groūded vpon certainty: for one of them wil tel you that you shal shortly haue some euill luck fal vpon you, & within halfe an houre after you shal find your pocket pick'd, or your [Page] purse cut. These are those Egiptian Grashoppers that eate vp the fruites of the Earth, and destroy the poore corne fieldes: to sweepe whose swarmes out of this king­dome, there are no other meanes but the sharpnes of the most infamous & basest kinds of punishment. For if the vgly body of this Monster be suffred to grow & fatten it selfe with mischiefs and disorder, it will haue a neck so Sine [...]y & so brawny, that the arme of ye law will haue much ado to strike of ye Head, sithence euery day the mē ­bers of it increase & it gathers new ioints & new forces by Priggers, Anglers, Cheators, Morts, Yeomens Daughters (that haue taken some by blowes, & to auoid shame, fall into their Sinnes: and other Seruants both men & maides that haue beene pil [...]erers, with al the rest of that Damned Regiment, marching together in ye first Army of the Bell-man, who running away from theyr own Coulours (wt are bad ynough) serue vnder these, being the worst. Lucifers Lansprizado that stood aloof to behold the mustrings of these Hell-hoūds took delight to see them Double their Fyles so nimbly, but held it no pollicy to come neere thē (for the Diuell him-selfe durst scarce haue done that.) Away therefore hee gallops, knowing that at one time or other they would all come to fetch their pay in Hell.

The infection
Chap. IX.

Of the Suburbs.

THe Infernall Promoter béeing wearied we riding vp & downe the Country, was glad when he had got­ten the Citty ouer his head, but the Citty being not able to hold him within the freedome, because he was a For­reiner, the gates were sette wide open for him to passe through, & into the Suburbes hee went. And what saw hee there? More Ale-houses than there are auernes in all Spayne & Fran [...]e Are they so dry in the Suburb [...]? Yes, pockily dry. What saw he besides?

[Page] Hée saw the dores of notorious Carted Bawdes, (like Hell gates) stand night and day wide open, with a paire of Harlots in Taffata gownes (like two painted posts) Noctes atque a [...]e patet l [...] ­ [...] Dills. garnishing out those dores, beeing better to the house then a Double signe: when the dore of a poore Artificer (if his child had died but [...] one Tokē of death about him) was close ram'd vp and Guarded for seare others should haue beene infected: Yet the plague that a Whore-house layes vpō a Citty is worse, yet is laughed at [...]f not laugh ed at, yet not look'd into, or if look'd into, Wincked at.

The Trades [...]an hauing his house lockd vp, looseth his customers, is put from worke and vndone: whilst in the meane time the strumpet is set on worke and maintain'd (perhaps) by those that vndee the other: giue thankes O wide mouth'd Hell! laugh Lucifer at this Dance for ioy all you Diuells.

Belz. b [...]b keepes the Register booke, of al ye Bawdes, Panders & Curtizans: & hee knowes, that these Subutb sinners haue nolandes to liue vpon but their legges: eue­ry prentice passing by them, can say, There sits a whore: Without putting them to their booke, they will sweare so much themselues: if so, are not Counstables, Church-wardens, Bayliffes, Beadels & other Officers, Pillars and Pillowes to all the villanies, that are by these com­mitted? Are they not parcell-Bawdes to winck at such damned abuses, considering they haue whippes in their owne handes, and may draw bloud if they please? Is not the Land-lord of such rentes the Graund-Bawde? [...]f the Dore Kéeping mistresse of such a house of sinne, but his Under-Bawd? sithence hee takes twenty pounds [...] euery year [...], for a vaulting schoole (which frō no Artificer liuing by the hardnesse of the hand could bee worth fiue pound.) And that twenty pound rent, hé knowes must bée prest out of petticoates:) his money smells of sin: the very siluer lookes pale, because it was earned by lust.

How happy therefore were Citties if they had no Sub­urbes, sithence they serue but as caues, where monsters [Page] are bred vp to deuowre the Citties them-selues? Would the Diuell hire a villaine to spil bloud? there he shall finde him. One to blaspheme? there he hath choice. A Pan­dar that would court a matron at her praiers? hées there. A cheator that would turne his owne father a begging? Hées there too: A harlot that would murder her new­borne Infant? Shée lies in there.

What a wretched wombe hath a strumpet, which being (for the most part) barren of Children, is notwithstāding the onely Bedde that breedes vp these serpents? vpō that one stalke grow all these mischiefes. Shee is the Cocka­trice that hatcheth all these egges of euills. When the Diuell takes the Anatomy of all dānable sinnes, he lookes onely vpon her body. Whe she dies, he sits as her Coro­ner. When her soule comes to hell, all shunne that there, as they flie from a body struck with the plague here. She hath her dore-kéeper, and she herselfe is the Diuells chā ­ber-maide. And yet for all this, that shée's so dangerous and detestable, when she hath croak'd like a Rauē on the Eues, then comes she into the house like a Doue. When her villanies (like the mote about a castle) are rancke, thicke, and muddy, with standing long together, then (to purge herself) is she dreind out of the Suburbes (as though her corruption were there left behind her (and) a [...] a cleere streame) is let into the Citty.

What armor a harlot weares comming out of the Sub­urbes to besiege the Citty within the wals.

VPon what perch then does she sit? what part plaies the then? onely the Puritane. If before she ruffled in silkes, now is she more ciuilly attird then a Mid-wife. I [...] before she swaggred in Tauernes, now with the Snaile she stirrethnot out of dores. And where must her lodging be takē vp, but in the house of some citt [...], whose known reputation, she borrowes (or rather steales) putting it on as a cloake to couer her deformities. Yet euē in that, hath she an art too, for he shalbe of such a profession, that all cō ­mers [Page] may enter, without the dāger of any eyes to watch thē. As for example she wil lie in some Scriueners house, & so vnder the collour of comming to haue a Bond made, she herselfe may write Noue int vniuersi. And the the law th [...]eaten to hit her neuer so often, yet hath she subtile de­fences to ward off the blowes. For, if Gallants haūt the house, then spreds she these collours: she is a captaine or a lieutenāts wife in the Low-coūtries, & they come with letters, from the souldier her husband. If Marchants resort to her, then hoistes she vp these sayles, she is wife to the Maister of a shippe, & they bring newes yt her hus­bād put in at the Straytes, or at Venice, at Aleppo, Ale­xandria, or Scanderoon, &c. if shop keepers come to her, with what do you lack in their mouthes, thē she takes vp such & such commodities, to send them to Rye, to Bri­stow, to Yorke, &c where her husband dwells. But if the streame of her fortunes runne low, and that none but A­pronmen lanch forth there, then keepes she a pollitick tempsters, shop, or she starches them.

Perhaps shee is so pollitick, that none shalbe noted to How a citty punck Ran­geth. board her: if so, then she sailes vpō these points of the cō ­passe: so soone as euer she is rig'd, and all her furniture on, forth she lancheth into those streetes that are most frequēted: where the first man that she meetes of her ac­quaintance, shal (without much pulling) get her into a Tauerne: out of him she kisses a breakefast & then leaues him: the next she meetes, does vpon as easie pullies, draw her to a Tauerne againe, out of him she cogs a dinner, & then leaues him: the third man, squires her to a play, wt being ended, & the wine offred & taken (for she's no Re­cusant, to refuse any thing) him she leaues too: and being set vpon by a fourth, him she answers at his own weapō, sups with him, & drincks Vpsie Freeze, til the clok strik­ing Twelue, and the Drawers being drowzy, away they march arme in arme, being at euery foot-step fearful to be set vpō by the Band of Halberdiers, that lie scowting in rug gownes to cut of such mid-night straglers. But the [Page] word being giuen, & who goes there, with come before the Constable, being shot at them, they vaile presently & come, she taking vpon her to answer al the Bil-men and their Leader, Betweene whome & her, suppose you heare this sleepy Dialogue. where haue you bin so late? at sup­per forsooth with my vncle here (if he be wel bearded) or with my brother (if the haire bee but budding forth) and he is bringing me home. Are you married? yes for­sooth: whats your husband? such a Noble-mans man, or such a Iustices clarke, (And then names some Alder­man of London, to whom she perswades herselfe, one or other of the bench of browne billes are beholding) where lye you? At such a mans house: Sic tenues eua­nescit in Auras: and thus by stopping the Constables muoth with sugar-plummes (thats to say,) whilst she poisons him with sweete wordes, the punck vanisheth. O Lanthorne and Candle-light, how art thou made a blinde Asse? because thou hast but one eye to see withall: Be not so guld, bee not so dull in vnderstanding: do thou but follow aloofe, those two tame Pigeons, & thou shalt finde, that her new Vncle lies by it al that night, to make his kinse-woman on of mine Aunts: or if shee bee not in trauell all night, they spend some halfe an houre together, but what doe they? marry, they doe that, which the Constable should haue done for them both in the streetes thats to say commit, commit,

You Guardians ouer so great a Princesse as the eld­est daughter of King Brutus: you twice twelue fathers and gouernours ouer the Noblest Cittie, why are you so careful to plant Trees to beautifie your outward walks, yet suffer the goodliest garden (within) to be ouer-run with stincking wéedes? You are the proining kniues that should loppe off such idle, such vnprofitable and such de­stroying branches from the Uine: The beames of your Authoritie should purge the ayre of such infection: your breath of Iustice should scatter those foggy vapors, and driue them out of your gates as cha [...]e tossed abroad by the windes.

[Page] But stay: is our walking spirit become an Orator to perswade? no: but the Bel man of London with whom he met in this pera [...]bulation of his▪ and to whom hée be­traied himselfe & opened his very bosome, (As hereafter you shall heare,) is bould to take vpon him that speakers Office.

Of Ginglers.
CHAP. X.

Or the knauery of Horse-Coursers in Smith-field discouered.

AT the end of fierce battailes, the onely Rendeuouz for lame souldiers to retire vnto, is an Hospitall: and at the end of a long Progresse, the onely ground for a tyred Ia [...]e to runne in, is some blind country faire, where he may be sure to be sold, To these Markets of vnwholesome Horse-flesh, (like so many Rites to féede vpon Carion) do [...] all the Horse-coursers (that roost about the Citty) flie one after another. And whereas in buying all other commodities, men striue to haue the best, how great so euer the price be, onely the Horse-courser is of a baser minde, for the woorst hors-flesh (so it be cheape) does best goe downe with him. He cares for nothing but a fayre out-side, and a hansome shape (like those that hyre whores, (though there be a hundred diseases within: he (as the other) ventures vpon thē all.

The first lesson therefore that a Horse-courser takes out, when he comes to one of these Markets, is to make choyce of such Nags, Geldings, or Mares, especially, as are fatte, fayre, and well-fauor'd to the eye: and because men delight to behold beautifull coullors, and that some coulours are more delicate (euen in beasts) then others are, he will so néere as he can, bargaine for those horses that haue the daintiest complexion: as the Milke-white, the Gray, the Dapple-Gray, the Cole blacke with his proper markes (as t [...]e white starre in the forehead, the [Page] white héele, &c.) or the bright Bay, with the like proper markes also. And the goodlier proportion ye beast carries or the fayrer markes or coulour that hee beares, are or ought to bee watch-words as it were to him that after­wards buyes him of the horse-courser, that he bee not coozend with an ouer-price for a bad peny-worth, because such Horses (belonging for the most part to Gentlemen) are seldome or neuer solde away, but vpon some fowle quallty, or some incurable disease, which the Beast is falne into. The Best coulours are therefore the best Cloakes to hide those faults that most disfigure a Horse: and next vnto coulour, his Pace doth often-times de­ceiue and goe beyond a very quick Iudgement.

Some of these Horse-hunters, are as nimble Knaues in finding out the infirmities of a Iade, as a Barber is in drawing of téeth: and albeit (without casting his water) hee does more readily reckon vp all the Aches, Crampes, Crickes, and whatsoeuer disease else lyes in his bones: and for those diseases seemes vtterly to dis­like him, yet if by looking vpon the Dyall within his mouth, he finde that his yeares haue struck but fiue, sixe, or seauen: and that he prooues but young, or that his dis­eases are but newly growing vpon him, if they be out­ward, or haue but hayre and skin to hide them, if they bee inward, let him sweare neuer so damnably, that it is but a Iade, yet he will be sure to fasten vpon him.

So then, a Horse-courser to the Merchant, (that out of his sound iudgement buyes the fairest, the best-bred, and the noblest Horses, selling them againe for breede or seruice, with plainnesse and honesty.) is as the Chea­tor to the faire Gamester: hee is indeed a meere Iadish Nonopolitane, and deales for none but tyred, taited, dull and diseased horses. By which meanes, if his pic­ture The picture of a Horse-courser. bee drawne to the l [...]e, you shall finde euery Horse-courser for the most part to bee in quality a coozener, by profession a knaue, by his running a Uarlet, in fayres a Hagling Chapman, in the Citty a Cogging dissembler, [Page] and in Smith-field a common forsworne Uillaine. Hee will sweare any thing, but the faster hee sweares, the more danger tis to beleeue him: In one forenoone, and in selling a Iade not worth fiue Nobles, will hee forsweare himselfe fifteene times, and that forswearing too shall bee by Equiuocation. As for example, if an ignorant Chap­man comming to beate the price, say to the Horse-courser your nagge is verie olde or thus many yeares olde, and reckon ten or twelue; hee claps his hand presently on the buttocke of the beast, and praies he may bee damb'd if the Horse be not vnder fiue, meaning that the horse is not vnder fiue yeares of age, but that he standes vnder fiue of his fingers, when his hand is clap'd vppon him. These Horse-coursers are called Iynglers, and these Iynglers hauing laide out their money on a company of Iades at some drunken fayre, vp to London they driue them, and vppon the Market day into Smithfield brauely come they prauncing. But least their Iades should shew too many horse trickes in Smith-field, before so greate an Audience as commonly resort thither, their maisters doe therefore Schoole them at home after this manner.

How a Horse-courser workes vpon a Iade in his own Stable, to make him seruiceable for a couze­ning Race in Smith-field.

THe Glanders in a horse is so filthy a disease, that he who is troubled with it can neuer keep his nose cleane: so that when such a foule-nosed Iade hap­pens How a Horse-cour [...]er may coozen his chap-man vvith a horse that hath the Glanders. to serue a Horse-courser, hee hath more strange pils (then a Pothecarie makes) for the purging of his head, he knowes that a horse with such a qualitie, is but a beast­ly companion to trauell vppon the high way with anye Gentleman.

Albeit therefore that the Glanders haue played with his Nose so long, that hee knowes not how to mend him­selfe, [Page] but that the disease beeing suffered to runne vppon him many yeares together, is grown inuincible, yet hath our Iingling Mountibancke Smith-field rider a tricke to cure him, fiue or sixe waies and this isone of them.

In the verie morning when he is to bee rifled away a­amongst the Gamsters in Smithfield, before hee thrust his head out of his Maisters Stable, the Horse-courser tickles his nose (not with a Pipe of Tobacco) but with a good quantitie of the best Neesing powder that can bee gotten: which with a quil being blown vp into the Nost­rills, to make it worke the better, he stands p [...]aking there vp and downe with two long feathers plucked from the wing of a Goose, they beeing dipt in the iuice of Garlick, or in any strong oyle, and thrust vp to the verie top of his head, so farre as possibly they can reach, to make the pore dumbe beast auoide the filth from his nostrils, which hee will doe in great aboundance: this being done, he comes to him with a new medicine for a sicke horse, and ming­ling the iuyce of Bruzed Garlike, sharpe biting Mustard, and strong Ale together, into both the Nostrils (with a Horne) is powred a good quantitie of this filthy Broth, which by the hand being held in by stopping the nostrils close together, at length with a little neezing more, his nose will be cleaner then his Maisters the Horse-cour­ser, and the filth bee so Artificially stop'd that for eight or ten houres a Iade will holde vp his head with the prow­dest Gelding that gallops scornefully by him, and neuer haue neede of wiping.

This is one of the Comedies a Common horse-cour­ser playes by himselfe at home, but if when hee comes to act the second part abroad, you would disgrace him, and haue him hissd at for net playing the Knaue well, then handle him thus: If you suspect that the Nagge which he would Iade you with, bee troubled with that or any other such like disease, gripe him hard about the wesand pipe, close toward ther [...]ofe of the tongue, and holding [Page] him there so long and so for [...]bly, that he cough twice or thrice, it then (after you let goe your holde) his chappes begin to walke as if he were chewing downe a Horse­loafe, shake hands with old Mounsier Cauiliero Hors-Courser, but c [...]ap no bargain vpon [...]t, for his Iade is as full of infirmitie, as the maister f Uillan [...]e.

Other Gambals that Horse-coursers practise vpon Fowndred Hor­ses, old Iades, &c.

Smithfield is the Stage vpon which the Moūtibank English Horse-courser aduācing his banner, deffes any disease that dares touch his Prancer: Insomuch that if a horse be so olde, as that foure legs can but carry him, yet shall he beare the markes of an Nag not aboue sixe or seauen peares of age: & that counterseit badge of youth, he weares thus: The Horse-courser with a smal round yrō made very hot, burnes two black holes in the top of the two out-most teeth of each side the out-side of the Horses mouth vpon the nether teeth, & so likewise of the teeth of the vpper chap, which stand opposite to ye ne­ther, the quallitie of which marks is to shew that a horse is but yong: but if the iade be so old that those teeth are dropt out of his head, thē is there a tricke still to be fumb­ling about his olde chaps, & in that stroaking his chin, to pricke his lips closely with a pin or a naile, till they be so tender, that albeit be were a giuen horse none could bee suffered to looke him in the mouth (which is one of the best Calenders to tell his age) but a reasonable sighted eie (without helpe of spectacles) may easily discouer this Iugling, because it is grosse and common.

If now a Horse (hauing beene asore Traualler) happē by falling into a colde sweate to bee Foundred, so that (as if hee were drunck or had the staggers) bee can scarce stand on his legges, then will his maister, before hee enter into the lists of the field against all commers, put him into a villanous chasing by ryding him vp and [Page] downe a quarter or halfe an houre, till his limbes bee thoroughly heated, and this hee does, because so long as hee can discharge that false fire, or that (beingso collerick­ly hotte) hee tramples onely vppon soft ground, a very cūning Horsemā shal hardly find where his shoo wrings him, or that hee is Fowndred. And (to blinde the eyes of the Chapman) the Horse-courser will bee euer tick­ling of him with his wand, because hee may not by stan­ding still like an Asse, shew of what house hee comes.

It a Horse come into the fielde (like a lame soldier) Halting, hee has not Crutches made for him, as the soldier hath, but because you shall thinke the Horses shooemaker hath seru'd him like a Iade, by not fitting his foote well, the shooe shall bee takē off purposely from that foote which halts, as though it had beene lost by chance: And to proue this, witnesses shall come in, if at least twenty or thirty damnable oathes can be takē, that the want of the Shooe is onely the cause of his Halting. But if a Horse cannot be lustie at legges: by reason that either his hoofes bee not good, or that there be Splents, or any other Eye-sore about the nether Ioynt, the Hors-courser vses him then as Cheating Swaggerers handle Nouices: what they cannot winne by the Dyce, they will haue by Foule play: & in that foule manner, deales hee with the poore horse, ryding him, vp and downe in the thickest & the durtiest places, till that durt, like a ruffled boote drawne vppon an ill-fauour'd gowtie legge, couer the Iades infirmitie from the eyes of the Buyer.

How a Horse-courser makes a lade that has no stomach, to eate Lamb-pye.

ALbeit Lamb-pie be good meat vpō a table, yet it is so offensiue to a horses stomach, yt he had rather besed a moneth together with mustie oates, thā to taste it; Yet are not all Horses [...]iddē to his Lamb-pye-Breakefasts [Page] but onely such as ate dyeted with no other meate: and those are Dull, Blockish, Sullen, and heauie footed Iades. When-soeuer therefore a Horse-courser hath such a Dead commoditie, as a Lumpish slow Iade, that goes more heauily then a Cow when shee trots, and that neither by a sharpe bitte nor a tickling spurre he can put him out of his lazie and dogged pace, what does hee with him then? Duelye he giues him Lambpie. That is to say, euery morning when the Horse-courser comes into the Stable, he takes vp a tough round cudgell, and neuer leaues fencing with his Quarter staffe at the poore Horses sides and buttockes, till with blowes hee hath made them so tender, that the verry shaking of a bough will be able to make the horse ready to runne out of his wittes, And to keep the horse still in this mad mood, be­cause he shall not forget his lesson, his maister will neuer come neer him, but he will haue a fling at him: If he doe touch him, hee strikes him: if he spepkes to him, there is but a worde and a blow: if he doe but looke vpon him, the Horse flings and takes on, as though he would breaks through the walles, or had bene a Horse bredde vp in Bedlam amongst mad-folkes. Hauing thus gotten this hard lesson by heart, forth comes he into Smithfield to re­peat it, where the Rider shall no sooner leap into the saddle but the Horse-courser giuing the Iade (that is halfe scarred out of his wits already) three or foure good bangs, away flies Bucephalus as if yōg Alexander wer vpon his backe. No ground can holde him, no bridle raine him in, he gallops away as if the Deuill had hired him of some Hackney-man, and scuds through thicke and thinne, as if crackers had hung at his heeles. If his taile play the wag, and happen to whilke vp and downe (which is a signe that he does his feates of Acti­uitie like a Tumblers prentice by compulsion and with­out taking pleasure in them (then shall you sée the Hors [...]-courser late about him like a thrasher, till with blowes he made him carry his taile to his Bottocks: [Page] which in a Horse (contrary to the nature of a Dog) is an argument that he hath mettall in him and Spirrit, as in the other it is the note of cowardise.

These and such other base iuglings are put in practise, by the Horse-courser; in this maner comes he arm'd in­to the field: with such had and deceiptfull cōmodities does he furnish the markets. Neither steps he vpon the diuels stage alone, but others are likewise Actors in the selfe­ [...]ame Scene, and sharers with him: for no sooner shall money be offred for a Horse, but presently one Snake thrusts out his head and stings the buyer with false prai­ses of the Horses goodnesse: An other throwes out his poisoned hooke and whispers in the Chapmans eare, that vpon his knowledge so much or so much hath bene offred by foure or fiue, and would not be taken▪ and of these Ra­uens there vesundry nests, but all of them as blacke in soule us the Horse-courser (with whome they are yoa­ked) [...] in conscience. This Regiment of Horse-men is therefore deuided into foure Squadrons. viz.

  • 1 When Horse-coursers trauaile to country faires, they are called Iynglers.
  • 2 When they haue the leading of the Horse & serue in Smithfield, they are Drouers.
  • 3 They that stand by and conycatche the Chapman either with Out-bidding, false-praises, &c. are called Goades.
  • 4 The boyes, striplings, &c. that haue the ryding of the Iades vp and downe are called Skip-iacks.

Iacke in a Box.
Chap. II

Or a new kinde of Cheating, teaching how to change golde into Siluer, vnto which is added a Map, by which a man may learn how to trauell all ouer Eng­land and haue his charges borne.

HOw many Trees of Euill are growing in this coū ­trie? Terra malos homines nunc­e [...]ucat. how tall they are? how Mellow is their fruit? and how greedily gathered? so much ground doe they take vp, and so thickly doe they stand together, that it sée­meth a kingdom can bring forth no more of their nature, yes, yes, there are not halfe so many Riuers in Hell, in Noxia mille medis Lacerae­bitur vmbra. which a soule may saile to damnation, as there are Black Streames of Mischiefe and Villany (besides all those which in our Now-two Ueyages, we haue ventured so many leagues vp, for discouerie) in which thousandes of people are continually swimming, and encrie minute in danger vtterly to be cast away.

The Horse-Courser of hell, after he had durtyed him­selfe Abuses of race-running glanced at. with ryding vp and downe Smithfield and hauing his beast vnder him, gallopped away amaine to beholde a race of fiue myles by a couple of Running-Horses, vp­pon whose swiftnesse great summes of money were laide in wagers. In which Schoole of Horse-manshippe (wherein for the moste part none but Gallants are the Studients) hee construed but strange Lectures of A­buses: he could make large Comments vppon those that are the Runners of those Races, and could teach others how to loose fortie or fiftie pound pollitickly in the fore­noone, and in the after noone (with the selfe-same Gel­ding) to winne a thousand markes in fiue or sire miles riding. Hee could tell how Gentlemen are fetch'd in and made younger brothers, and how your new Knight comes to be a Couzen of this Race. He could drawe the true pictures of some fellowes, that dyet these Running-Horses, [Page] who for a bride of fortie or fiftie shillings can by a false Dye make their owne Maisters loose a hundred pound a race. He could shew more craftie Foxes in this wilde-goose chase thē there are white Foxes in Russia, & more strange Horse-trickes plaide by such Riders, then Bankes his curtall did euer practise (whose Gamballs of the two, were the honester.

But because this sort of Birdes haue many feathers to loose, before they can feele any colde, he suffers them to make their owne flight, knowing that prodigalls doe but iest at the stripes which other mens rods giue them, and neuer complaine of smarting till they are whip'd with their owne.

In euerie Corner did he finde Serpents ingendering: vnder euerie roofe, some impyetie or other lay breeding: Vix sunt homi­nes hoc nomine dignis, quā (que) lu [...] lae [...]s feritati [...] habēt but at last perceining that the most part of men were by the sorcerie of their own diuelish conditions transformed into Wolues, and being so changed, were more brutish & bloody, then those that were Wolues by nature: his spleene leap'd against his ribbes with laughter, and in the height of that ioy resolued to write the villanies of the world in Folio, and to dedicate them in priuate to his Lord and Maister, because hee knew him to bee an open­handed patron, albeit he was no great louer of schollers.

But hauing begunne one picture of a certaine strange Beast, (called Iacke in a Boxe) that onely (because the Cittie had giuen money already to see it) hee finished: and in these colours was Iack in a Boxe drawn. It hath the head of a man (the face well bearded) the eyes of a Iacke in a Box described. Hawke, the tongue of a Lap-wing, which saies heere it is, when the nest is a good way off: it hath the stomacke of an Estrich, and can disgest siluer as easily, as that Bird dooth Yron. It hath the pawes of a Beare in­stead of handes, for whatsoeuer it fastneth vppon, it holdes: From the middle downe-wardes, it is made like a Grey-hound, and is so swift of foote, that if it once get the Start of you, a whole Kennel of Hounds [Page] cannot ouertake it. It loues to hunt dry-foote, and can Scent a Traine in no ground so well as the Cittie, and yet not in all places of the Cittie. But he is best in Scen­ting betweene Ludgate and Temple-barre: and tis thought that his next hunting shall bee betweene Lum­bard-streete and the Gold smithes Rowe in Cheape­side: Thus much for his out ward parts, now you shall haue him vnrip'd, and see his inward.

This Iacke in a Boxe, or this Deuill in mans shape, wearing (like a player on a Stage) good cloathes on his His exercise backe, comes to a Golde-smithes Stall, to a Drapers, a Haberdashers, or into any other shop where he knows good store of siluer faces are to be seene. And there draw­ing foorth a faire new box, hammered all out of Siluer Plate, hee opens it, and powres foorth twentie or forty Twentie-shilling-peeces in New-golde. To which heape of Worldly-Temptation, thus much hee addes in words, that either he him-selfe, or such a Gentleman (to whom he belongs) hath an occasion for foure or fiue daies to vse fortie pound But because he is verie shortly, (nay he knowes not how suddenly) to trauaile to Venice, to Ierusalem or so, and would not willingly be disfurnished of Golde, he dooth therefore request the Cittizen to lend (vpon those Forty twenty shilling peeces) so much in white money (but for foure, fiue or sixe daies at most) and for his good-will he shall receiue any reasonable satisfac­tion. The Cittizen (knowing the pawne to be better thē siriens fugien­tia captat Flumina: quid rides? mutat [...] nomine, de Te Fabula narra­tur a Bond) powres downe fortie pound in siluer, the other drawes it, and leauing so much golde in Hostage, march­eth away with Bag and Baggage.

Fiue daies being expited, Iacke in a box (according to his Bargaine) being a man of his word comes againe to the Shop or stall (at which hee angles for fresh Fish) and there casting out his line with the siluer hooke, thats to say, pouring out the forty pound which hee borrowed, The Citizen sends in, or steps himselfe for the Boxe with the Golden deuill in it: it is opened, and the army of an­gels [Page] being mustred together, they are all found to bee there. The Box is shut agen and set on the Stall, whilst the Cittizen is telling of his money: But whilst this musicke is sounding, Iacke in a Boxe actes his part in a dumb shew thus; hee shifts out o his fingers another Boxe of the same mettall and making, that the former beares, which second Boxe is filled onely with shillings & being p [...]zed in the hand, shall seeme to cary the weight of the former, and is clap'd down in place of the first. The Citizen in the meane time (whilst this Pit-fall is made for him) telling the fortie poundes, misseth thirtie or for­tie shillinges in the whole summe, at which the Iacke in a Boxe starting backe (as if it were a matter strange vnto him) at last making a gathering within himselfe) for his wits, hee remembers (he saies) that hee laid by so much money as is wanting (of the fortie poundes to dis­patch some businesse or other, and forgot to put it into the Bag again [...], notwithstanding, hee intreates the Ci­tizen, to keepe his golde still, hee will take the white money home to fetch the rest, and make vp the Summe, his absence shall not bee aboue an houre or two: before which time he shall bee sure to heare of him, and with this the little Diuell vanisheth, carrying that away with him, which in the end will send him to the Gallowes, (thats to say his owne golde,) and fortie pound besides of the Shop-keepers, which hee borrowed, the other bée­ing glad to take forty shillings for the whole debt, and Multa potenti­bus desunt multa. yet is soundly box'd for his labour.

This Iacke in a boxe, is yet but a Chicken, and hath laide verie few Egges, if the Hang-man doe not spoyle it with treading, it will prooue and excellent Henne of the Game. It is a knot of Cheators but newly tyed, they are not yet a company. They flie not like Wilde-Geese (in flockes) but like Kites (single) as loath that any should share in their pray. They haue two or thrée names, (yet they are no Romaines, but errant Rogues) for some-times they call themselues Iacke in a boxe, [Page] but now that their infantrie growes strong, and that it is knowne abroad, that they carrie the Philoso­phers stone [...]bout them, and are able of fortie shillings to make fortie pound, they therefore vse a deade March, and the better to cloake their villanies, doe put on these Masking suites: viz.

  • 1. This art or sleight of changing golde into siluer, is called Trimming.
  • 2. They that practise it, terme them-selues Sheepe­shearers.
  • 3 The Gold which they bring to the Cittizen, is cald Iasons Fleece.
  • 4 The siluer which they pick vp by this wandring, is White-wooll.
  • 5 They that are Cheated by Iacke in a Boxe, are called Bleaters.

Oh Fleete-streete, Fleete-streete! how hast thou bene trimd, washed, Shauen and Polde by these deere and damnable Barbers? how often hast thou mette with these Sheep-shearers? how many warme flakes of wooll haue they pulled from thy Back? yet if thy Bleating can make the flockes that graze nere vnto thee and round about thee, to lift vp thy eyes, and to shunne such Wolues and Foxes, when they are approaching, or to haue them worryed to death before they sucke the blood of others, thy misfortunes are the lesse, because thy neighbours by them shall be warned from danger.

Many of thy Gallants (O Fleete-streete) haue spent hundreds of poundes in thy presence, and yet neuer were so much as drunke for it: but for euerie fortye pound that thou layest out in this Indian commoditie (of gold) thou hast a Siluer Boxe bestowed vpon thee, to carry thy Tobacco in, because thou hast euer loued that costlye and Gentleman-like Smoak. Iacke in a Boxe hath thus plaide his part. There is yet another Actor to step vpon the stage, and he seemes to haue good skil in Cosmography for he holdes in his hand a Map, wherein hee hath layde [Page] downe a number of Shires in England, and with small How to tra­uule without charges. pricks hath beaten out a path, teaching how a man may easily, (tho not verry honestly) trauell from Country to Country, and haue his charges borne; and thus it is.

He that vnder-takes this strange iourney, layes his first plotte how to be turned into a Braue man, which he findes can be done by none better then by a trusty Tai­lor: working therefore hard with him, till his suite be granted, Out of the Cittie, beeing mounted on a good gelding, he tides vpon his owne bare credit, not caring whether [...]e trauell to meete the Sunne at his Rysing or at his going downe. He knowes his Kitchin smokes in euery Countie, and his table couered in euery Shire. For when he comes within a mile of the Towne, where hee meanes to catche Quas [...]es, setting Spurres to his horse, away he gallops, with his cloake off (for in these Beseigings of Townes hee goes not armd with any (his Hatte thrust into his Hose, as if it were lost, and onely an emptie paire of Hangers by his side, to shew that hee has bene disarmed. And you must note, that this Hot spurre does neuer set vppon any places but onely such, where hee knowes (by intelligence) there are store of Gentlemen, or wealthy Farmers at the least. Amongst whome when hee is come, hee tels with distracted lookes, and a voice almoste breathlesse, how many Uillaines set vppon him, what golde & siluer they tooke from him, what woods they are fled into, from what part of Englād he is come, to what place he is go­ing, how farre he is from home, how farre from his ior­nies end, or from any Gentleman of his acquaintance, and so liuely personates the lying Greek (Synon) in tel­ling a lamentable tale: that the mad Troianes (the Gen­tlemen of the towne, beleeuing him, & the rather because he carries the shape of an honest man in shew, and of a Gentleman in his apparrell) are liberall of their purses, lending him money to beare him on his iourney, to pay which he offers either his bill or bond (naming his lodg­ing [Page] in London) or giues his word (as hées a Gentleman, which they rather take, knowing the like misfortūe may be theirs at any time.

And thus with the feathers of other birdes, is this Monster stuck, making wings of sundry fashions, with which he thus basely flies ouer a whole kingdom. Thus doth he ride from Towne to Towne, from Citty to City as if he were a Lād-lord in euery shire and that he were to gather Rents vp of none but Gentlemen.

There is a Twin-brother to this False galloper, and hee cheats Inne-keepers onely, or their Tapsters, by learning first what Country-men they are, and of what kindred: and then bringing counterfeit letters of com­mendations from such an Uncle, or such a Coozen (wher­in is requested, that the Bearer thereof may bee vsed kindely) hee lyes in the Iune till he haue fetcht ouer the Maister or Seruant for some mony (to draw whome to him he hath many bookes) and when they [...]ang fast enough by the Gills, vnder water Our Sharke diues, and is neuer seene to swimme againe in that Riuer.

Uppon this Scaffold, also might be mounted a num­ber Trauelling Emperickes, of Quack-saluing Empericks, who ariuing in some Country towne, clappe vp their Terrible Billes, in the Market-place, and filling the Paper with such horrible names of diseases, as if euery disease were a Diuell, and that they could coniure them out of any Towne at their pleasure. Yet these Beggerly Mountibancks are meate Coozeners, and haue not so much skill as Horsele [...]es. The poore people not giuing money to them to be cured of any infirmities, but rather with their money buying worse infirmities of them:

Uppon the same post, doe certain stragling Scribling Writers deserue to haue both their names and them-selues strowling schoole-maister. hung vp, insteed of those faire tables which they hang vp in Townes, as gay pictures to intice Schollers to them: the Tables are witten with sundry kindes of hands, but not one finger of those hands (not one letter [Page] there) drops from the Penne of such a false wandring Scribe. He buyes other mens cunning good cheape in London, and sels it deere in the Country. These Swal­lowes bragge of no qualitie in them so much as of swift­nesse. In foure & twenty houres, they will worke foure and twenty wonders, and promise to teach those, that know no more what belongs to an A. then an Asse, to bee able (in that narrow compasse) to write as faire and as fast as a country Uicar, who commonly reads all the Townes Letters.

But wherefore doe these counterfeit Maisters of that Noble Science of Writing, kéepe such a florishing with the borrowed weapons of other Mens Pennes? onely for this to gette halfe the Birdes (which they striue to catch) into their hands, thats to say, to bee payde halfe the money which is agréed vpon for the Scholler, and his nest being halfe fild with such Gold-finches, he neuer stayes till the rest be fledge, but suffers him that comes next, to beate the bush for the other halfe. At this Caréere the Ryder that set out last from Smith▪field, stop'd: and alighting from Pacolet (the horse that carried him) his next iourney was made on foote.

The Bel-mans second Night-walke. Chap. XII.

SIr Lancelot of the infernall Lake, or the Knight Errant of Hell, hauing thus (like a yong country gentleman) gone round about the Citty, to see the sights not onely within the walles but those also in the Subburbes, was glad when hee sawe [...] hauing put on the vizard that Hell lends Indu [...]a nigris vest [...]bus, c [...] rum insil [...] Nox her (cald darkenes to leap in to her Coach) because now he knew he should meete with other strange birdes [Page] and beasts fluttring from their nests, and crawling out of their dennes. His prognostication held currant, and the foule-weather (which hee fore-told,) fell out accord­ingly. For Candle-light ha [...] scarce opend his eye (to looke at the Citty like a gunner shooting at a marke,) but fearefully (their feet trembling vnder thē) their [...]es suspitiously rouling from euery nooke to nooke round Nectis & ere [...] [...] [...]nies sunt Dolu [...], Metus, Mise­ria, Fr [...], [...], &c. [...] Lib. 3 De Nat. D [...]o­tum. about them, & their heads (as if they stood vppon oyled shrewes) still turning back behinde them, came créeping out of hollow-trées, where they lay hidden, a number of couzning Bankrupts in the shapes of Owles, who when the Marshall of light, the sunne, went vp and downe to search the Citty, durst not stir abroad, for feare of [...]éeing houted at and followed by whole flockes of vndon cre­ditors.

But now when the stage of the world was hung in blacke, they ietted vppe & downe like proud Tragedians O what thankes they gaue to Darknesse! what [...] veren­da, verenda, &c. songes they balladed out in praise of Night, for bestowing vpon them so excellent a cleake wherein they might so safely walke muftled! Now durst they, as if they had beene Constables, rappe alowd at the dores of those to whom they owed most money, & braue them with hie wordes, tho they payd them not a penny.

Now did they boldly step into some priuiledged Ta­uerne, and there drinke healthes, dance with Harlets, & pay both Drawers and Fidlers after mid-night with o­ther mens money, & then march home againe fearelesse of the blowes that any showlder-clapper durst giuethē. Out of another Nest flew certaine Murderers and Theeues in the shapes of Skreech-owles, who, being set on by the Night, did beate with their bold and vēturous fatall wings at the very dores whereas, informer times, their villanies had entred.

Not farre frō These, came crawling out of their bushes a company of graue & wealthy Lechers in the shapes of Glowe-wormes, who with gold, Iyngling in their [Page] pockets, made such a shew in the night, that the dores of Common Brothelryes flew open to receiue them, the in s [...]piens in munera v [...]nit adultor, Praebuit ipsa sinus. Nec polisti metuunt De [...] [...]ec [...] ­cere Deo [...] opi­nor. the day time they durst not passe that way, for seate that noted Curtizans should challenge them of acquaintance, or that others should laugh at them to see white heads growing vpon greene stalkes.

Then came forth certaine infamou [...] earthy minded Creatures in the shapes of Snailes, who all the day time hyding their heads in their shells, lea [...] b [...]ies should we two fingers point at them for liuing b [...]ly vpō the pro­stitutiō of their wiues bodies, cared not now, before can­dle-light, to shoote out their largest & longest Hornes.

A number of other monsters, like These, were seene (as the sunne went downe) to venture from their dēnes, only to ingender with Darknesse: but candle-lights eye­sight growing dimmer & dimmer, and hée at last falling starke blind, Lucifers Watch-man went strumbling vp and down in the darke.

How to weane Horses.

EUery dore on a sudden was shut, not a candle stood peeping through any window, not a Vintner was to be séene brewing in his Cellor, not a drunkerd to be met réeling, not a Mouse to be heard stiring: al ye Citty shew­ed Mutat Quies habitat. like one Bed, for all in that Bed were soūdly cast into a [...]éepe. Noyse made no noise, for euery one that wrought with the hāmer was put to silence. Yet notwithstāding when euen the Diuel himselfe could haue béene contēted to take a nap, there were few Inkeepers about ye towne but had their spirits walking. To watch which spirits what they did, our Spy, that came lately out of ye Lower­countries, stole into one of their Circles, where lucking very closely, hée perceiued ye whē all the guests were pro­foundly sleeping, when Cariers were soundly snorting, & not so much as the Chamberlaine of the house but was layd vp, suddenly out of his bed started an Hostler. who hauing no apparell on but his shirt, a paire of slip-shooes The knauery of Hostlar. [Page] on his feete, and a Candle burning in his hand like olde Ieronimo step'd into the stable amōgst a number of poore hungry Iades, as if that night he had beene to ride poast to ye Diuell. But his iorney not lying that way till some other time, he neither bridled nor sadled any of his foure­footed guests that stood there at racke and manger, but seeing them so late at supper, and knowing that to ouer­eate them-selues would fill them full of diseases, (they being subiect to aboue a hundred & thirty already) hée first (without a voyder) after a most vnmanerly fashion tooke away, not onely all the Prouander that was set before them, but also all the hay, at which before they were glad to lick their lippes. The poore Horses looked very rufully vpon him for this, but hee rubbing their teeth onely with the end of a Candle (in steed of a Cortall) tolde them, that for their Iadish trickes it was now time to weane them: And so wishing them not to bee angry if they lay vpon the hard boards, cōsidering all the beddes in the house were full, back againe hee stole to his Coach, till breake of day: yet fearing least the sunne should rise to discouer his knauery, vp hee started, & into the stable he stumbled, scarce halfe awake, giuing to euery Iade a bottle of hay for his breake-fast, but al of them being troubled we the greazy tooth-ach, could eate none, which their maisters in the [...]ing espying swore they were either fullen or els that prouender pricked them.

This Hostler for this peece of seruice was afterwards preferred to be one of the Groomes in Belzebubs stable.

Another Night-peece drawne in sundry collours.

SHall I shew you what other bottomes of mischiefe, Plutos Beadle saw wound vpon the blacke spindels of the Night, in this his priuy search? In some streetes he met Mid-w [...]ies running, till they sweat, & following them close at hecles, he spied them to be let in, at the backe dores of houses, seated either in blind lanes, or in by-gar­dens: [Page] which houses had roomes builded for the purpose, where young Maides, being bigge with child by vnlaw­ful Fathers, or young wiues (in their husbands abscence Matronae (que) r [...] ­ra pudica est. at sea, or in the warres) hauing wrastled with batchilers or maried men, til they caught falls, lay safely til they wer deliuered of them. And for reasonable summes of mony, s [...] [...]lent auro multa [...]ubesse malà the bastards that at these windows crept into the world, were as closely now and then sent presently out of the Pectora tan­tis obseffa ma­lis, Non sunt ict [...] fertenda leut. world, or els were so vnmannerly brought vp, that they neuer spake to their owne parents that begot them.

In some streetes he met seruants in whose brest albeit the arrowes of the plague stuck halfe way, yet by cruell maisters were they driuen out of dores at mid-night and conuaid to Garden-houses, where they either died before Quit prodere tanta relatu Funera. next morning, or else were carried thither dead in their coffins as tho they had lien sicke there before and there had dyed.

Now and then at the corner of a turning hee spyed seruants purloyning fardels of their maisters goods, and deliuering them to the hands of common strumpets.

This dore opend, and Lust with Prodigality were heard to stand closely kissing: and (wringing one ano­ther by the hand) softly to whisper out foure of fiue good­nights, till they met abroad the next morning.

A thousand of these comedies were acted in dumb shew, and onely in the priuat houses: at which the Di­uells messenger laught so loud that Hell heard him, and for ioy range foorth loude and lustie Plaudities. But beeing driuen into wonder why the night would fall in labour, and bring foorth so many Uillantes, whose births she practised to couer (as she had reason) because so many watchmen were co [...]tinually called and charged to haue an eye to her dooings, at length he perceiued that Bats (more vgly and more in number then these) might flye vp and downe in darkenesse: for tho with their Letherne Wings they should strike the verry billes out of those Watchmens handes, such leaden plummets were com­mōly [Page] hung by sleepe at all their eyelids, that hardly they could be awakned to strike them agen.

On therefore he walkes, with intent to hasten home, as hauing fil'd his Table Bookes with sufficient notes of intelligence. But, at the last, meeting with the Bell-man, and not knowing what he was because he went without his Lanthorne and some other implements: for the man in the Moone was vp the most part of the night and lighted him which way soeuer he turned, he tooke him for some churlish Hobgoblin, seeing a long staffe on his necke, and therefore to be one of his owne fellowes. The Bel-ringer Smelling what strong scent he had in his nose, soothed him vp, and questioning with him how he had spent his time in the citty, and what discouery of Land-villanies he had made in this Iland voiage: ye Ma­riner of hell, opened his chart, which he had linedwith all abuseslying either East, West, North, or South: he shew­ed how he had pricked it, vpon what points he had saild, where he put in: vnder what height he kept him-selfe: where he went a shore, what strāge people he met: what land he had discouered, and what commodities he was laden with from thēce. Of all which the Bell-man draw­ing forth a perfect Map, they parted: which Map he hath set out in such collors as you see, tho not with such cun­ning as he could wish: the paines are his owne, the plea­sure, if this can yeelde any pleasure, onely yours, on whome he bestowes it: to him that embraceth his la­bours, he dedicats both them and his loue: with him that either knowes not how, or cares not to entertaine them, he will not be angry, but onely to Him sayes thus much for a farrewell.

——Si quid Nouisti rectius istis,
Candidus imperti: Si non, His vtere mecum:
FINIS.

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