A Medicine to cure the Plague of a womans tongue, ex­perimented on a Coblers wife.

A M [...]y Cobler there was, (dwelling at Ware) who for ioy that he mended mens broken & corrupted soles, did continually sing, so that his shop seemed a verrie bird cage, & he sitting there in his foule linnen and greasie Apron, shewed like a black bird. It was this poore Sowters destiny not to be hang'd, but (worse then that) to be marryed: & to what crea­ture thinke you? to a faire, to a young to a neate delicate coū ­trie Lasse, that for her good partes was able to put downe all War [...]: but with all this honny that flowed in her, did there drop such aboundance of gal and poison from her Scorpiō-like tongue, that monsieur Shoo-mender wished his life were set vpon the shortest last, and a thousand times a day was ready to dye Caesars death: O valiant Cordwaynerland to stab him­selfe not with a bodkin, but with his furious Awle, because hée knew that would goe through stitch: hee neuer tooke vp the [Page] endes of his threed, but he wished those to bee the endes of his threed of life: he neuer parde his patches, but hee wished his knife to be the sheeres of the fatall Sisters three, hee neuer handled his Ball of waxe but he compared them to this wife, & sighe [...] to think that he that touches pitch, must be de [...]led.

Now did his songs as heauily come from him as musick does from a Fidler, when in a Tauerne he plaies for nothing. Now did sig [...]eur Cobler stand no more on his pantofles, but at his shutting in of shop, could haue bene content to haue had all his neighbours haue throwne his olde sho [...]es after him when hee went home, in signe of good lucke.

But alas, hee durst not doe that neither, for shee that plaide the Deuill in womans apparell (his wife I meane) made her Caualero Cobler, to giue her account euerie night of euerie patch that went through his fingers. In this purgatorie did our graduate in the Gentle craft liue a long time, but at lenght he was thrust into hell, for his wife (not following the steps of her husband, who was euer on the mending hand, but grow­ing from bad into worse) cast as [...]de her Wedding stockings, & drew on a paire of yellow hose: then was my miserable Cob­ler more narrowly watched thē a Mouse by a Cat, or a debter by a Catch-pole: he durst not vnlock his lippes afte [...] a Wēch, but his teeth were ready to flie out of his head w^t her [...]eating: to haue touched any Petticoate but his wife was more dan­gerous then for a Cat to eate fire: if any maide brought but her shooes to mending, his wife swore presently that hee had the length of her foote, and that he sowed loue- [...]itches into e­uerie peece, though it were no bigger then a Chandlers token.

Wearied therefore with this (worse then a beare-baiting) and being almost worne to the [...]are-bones, his heart fretting out euen to the elbowes by rubbing vp and downe in this miserie, At the length my braue boote-haler sifted his wits to the verie bran, for some hooke to fasten into his wiues [...]ost­rils, and the pill which he founde either to choake her or p [...]rge her, was this:

A Doctor of whome all Ware was affraid, because the Ui­car [Page] of the towne suck'd more sweetnesse out of his Pati­ents whome he sent to him (by reason all that came vnder his hands, went the way of al flesh (then out of all his tithe-Pigs) ha [...]ned to dwell close by this distressed Cobler: to him (hauing saued his water ouer night) repaires my reformer of decayed Shoo-leather, betimes in the morning. The Bonjour being giuen and returned, the Coblers water was looked into, much tossing and tumbling of it there was for a prettie while, and at last it was demaunded whose the Urine should bee? Mine (quoth the Cobler) So it may be replyed our Galenist, for I spie neither any disease swimming about thy body in this wa­ter, and thy verry lookes shew that thou art sound: Sound, (cries out the infected Cobler) alas sir I see now that some di­seases haue power to make dunces of Doctors themselues, Sound (quoth a) why sir I am sicke at heart, I am struck with the Plague, I haue a Plague sore vppon mee (your Doctors Capis not able to couer it, tis so broade) it eates and spreds more and more into my flesh, and if you apply not some presēt remedie, Ware must & shall trudge to some other, whē their olde shooes want mending, for the Cobler's but a deade man.

At this the Doctor stood amazed, and wondred that his skil should shoote so wide as not to finde out a greefe so commō, so dangerous and so palpable: wherupon hee bidding the Cobler to open his brest, and not to feare to shew him that Plague­sore, where of hee so complained: the Cobler presently tolde him hee would but steppe foorth of doores, and at his return he should see it: at length the Cobler comes backe againe with his wife [...]orne on his backe like a Sowe new scalded on the backe of a Butcher, and for all her kicking, rayling, cur­sing and swearing, yet to the Doctor hee came with her, crying looke you heere Maister Doctor, this is my plague­sore that so torments mee: in the night it keepes mee from sleepe, in the day it makes me madde: in my bed this ser­pent stings me, at my boord shee stabs mee, and all with one weapon (her villanous tongue, her damnable tongue) If I [Page] reply she fights: if I say nothing shee raues: if you call not this a plague Maister Doctor, then such a plague light on you Maister Doctor teach me therefore how to cure it, or else if you giue me ouer I shall grow desperate and cut mine owne throate.

The Doctor at this laughed, the Coblers wise rayled, the Cobler himselfe bid her lye still, & held her so long till a num­ber of his neighbors came about him to beholde this seeane of mi [...]th: all of them (knowing how dangerously the Cobler was infected with this mariage-plague, desiring the Doctor to play the right phisitian, and to cure their neighbour. The Doctor heereupon swore hee would doe it, and stepping into his study hee returned immediately with a paper in one hand, & a faire cudgell in the other, deliuering both to the Cobler, protesting that neither Gallen, Auarois, nor Hippocrates can prescribe any other remedie then this, and that if this medicine cure not the womās euill, nothing can The Cobler hauing neither the wrighting nor reading tongue, requested the Doctor to reade the receipt, as for the cudgell he vnderstood that well enough.

The paper therefore after a solemne O yes by all the stan­ders by was read, & contained thus much:

At the end of this, the Audience gaue a plauditie, in token they liked well of the Doctors phisicke: the Cobler thanked him, and thus insteede of an Epilogue spake to his neighbors, neighbors (qd, he) you know, & I know, nay the deuil himselfe knowes, that my wife hath stucke vppon mee like a Plague thus many yeares, to apply either the sirrop of a Salt Eele, or the oile of holly to her shoulders, I heatherto was affraid [...], because I had no warrant that a man might lawfullye beate his wife.

[Page]But now sithence Ma [...]ster D [...]ctor, (who wears not a veluet night cap for nothing) hauing turned ouer his bookes, findes that no hear [...]e, mineral, salue, nor plaister, no purging nor any other blood-letting will cure or take out that worme vnder a womās tongue, (which makes her mad) but onely a soūd bea­ting: I will (God willing) giue her the dyet hee sets downe, & if euer I complaine her [...]after to any Phisition for the griefe of this plague, let all Ware laugh at me [...]or an asse, & swear that my wife-weares the breeches.

Upon this resolution brauely does the Cobler march home, his wife (like a furie) following, railing, reuiling and casting di [...]t and stones, aswell at him as at the youthes of the parish that went showting after her heeles. But being within dores and the lockes made fast by my valiāt Cobler, her tongue ser­ued as a drum ortrumpet to soūd an alla [...]um, whilst my braue desper view prepared for the onset with a good bast [...]ado: the assault was not so furious, but the Coblers wife was as ready to receiue it: to the skirmish fall they pell mell, the Coblers Co [...]ecombe, being first broken, but he being no Welchman (to faint at sight of his owne blood) so plide his businesse, and so thrash'd out all the Chaffe in his wife (who was nothing but Rye) that in the end she fell on her knees, cried for the [...] of the Coblers mercy, & fed vpon them hūgerly he liuing euer after more quietly for her scolding, then if hee had dwelt in a Steeple full of bels, that had lost their claps.

Thus much for the vniuersall plagues, that threaten our kingdome this present yeare 1609. Now let vs arme our heads to beare of the other miseries that are ready and must (by decree in the vpper house in the heauenly parliament) full vpon mankinde.

An excellent dyet for an Vsurer, when his conscience is starued.

IN Rauenspurge, in Germany, there dwelled a Iew that was a vsurer, who liued by y^e spoile of his purloining faculty and reapt with ease what others had purchast with labor, rich he was, and well monied, & ready to lend vpon any reasona­ble assurance: but as he was swéet to pleasure at the first, so at the last, whosoeuer tasted of his fauors, found them bées with stings, and faire panthers with deuouring pan [...]hes, that al his curtesies were but fowlers gins to bring a bird to the snare, & then to pray vpon them like Crocodiles aliue, for this mi­serable Iew was plyant to the suite of any man, that brought him either sufficiēt surety or pawne: but if he broke one minut of his appointed houre, he took the forfeits with all extremitie: gathering thus infinite treasures into his hands, hée grew by this extorting qualitie to bée one of the richest men in Rauens­purge, yet though his wealth was great, & he in debt to none, his belly sued an action of trespasse (damage fiue hundreth pounds) against him, as being indebted to it, in so much for hū ­gry meales, and hard chéere, that hée had past ouer in his life time, for he was not only spare in his diet, but miserable, grā ­ting himselfe oftentimes, no other then water to quench his thirst, and féeding vpon nothing but the most refuse meate in the shambles to satisfie his hunger. This Iew called Ioachlm Gorion, thus flourished and tooke his onely felicitie in féeding his eyes with the sight of infinite treasure not respecting the ruine of many poore men, so he by their miseries might enrich [Page] himselfe. Wherevpon he grew in open contempt, and hatred of all the people, but as the Fox the more he is [...]urst, the better hee fareth, so Ioachim the more the poore exclaimed against him, the more his profits and reuenewes came in.

At last it fortuned that a Farmer bordering néere vnto Ra­uenspurge, being called Hans Van Limericke, hauing a sum of money to pay, or else to loose certain commodities f [...]ue times worth the value, not knowing how to furnish himselfe with so much coyne, and finding friends [...]acke in time of necessitie, at length called to minde this wretched Usurer Gorian, and though he knew him to be a man of no conscience, yet assuring himselfe how he was able to pay his money that he borrowed againe at the day, was the better encouraged to deale with him, so that coueting rather to brooke an inconuenience, then suffer a mischiefe. He went to the house of Ioachim, and broke the matter vnto him: the Iew neuer denied but friendly promised him to lēd him so much, so he might haue sufficiēt as­surance for his mony. Hans hearing this was glad, and said he ment to lay him his farme, and all his Lands in morgage, with a letter of defeisance recognised, that al the land should be his, if either he broke the day or houre. The couetous Iewe was content, so that taking a déede of guift with a prouis [...] of him, he tendered downe the mony, and so fitted and supplyed the Farmers present want, who went home merily, & dispatched such Creditors as he was vpon that day to discharge. The Iew knowing the Farme to be a pretty plot, well scituated and three times worth the money, wisht Limericke dead, that he might [...]réely enter possession of his goods and landes, but it fell out contrary to his desire and expectation, for the Farmer carefull of his day, because he knew the hard conscience of the Usurer, straind himselfe and his friendes, & prouided the mo­ney, and at the time appointed came and brought it to Gori­ons house▪ now the money was to be paide betwéene two and thrée in the after noone, which Hans knowing, was there halfe an houre after two to deliuer his money: the Usurer hearing that he was come, was greatly gréeued that he had kept touch [Page] so well, and therefore thought to ouer-reach him with flat po­li [...]i [...]ke co [...]senage, which he performed thus.

The Usurer had a clocke in his house, which went with such vices and gim [...]als, that by letting downe, a pullie, he coulde make it strike what a clocke himselfe would: so that sending downe word to him that he would come by and by, hee went himselfe and straind the pully, and the clocke, presently struck thrée: wherevppon the Iewe came downe, and demaunded of Limericke, what hee would haue? Marrie sir (quoth he) I haue brought you home the mony I borrowed of you, with y^• appoyn [...]ed loane, and a thousand thanks, besides: promising for this fauour euer to rest yours whilst I liue. My money Hans (qd. he) why dost not know y^• effects of the recognisance? I pray thée at what houres was the money to be payde? be­twéene twoo and thrée (quoth Limericke) why so then it is now past thrée, and therefore Ile none of the money, but stand to the forfeit of the bands that are l [...]st to me by morgage: at this the poore farmer was some thing amazed, yet thinking tha Iew had but iested, he smild, and began to turne the mo­ney on the boord, to tender it: but Ioachim tolde him flat that he was in earnest, and would none of the money: why Sir, (quoth Hans) though your clocke hath strucken thrée, by o­ther clock as if is little past two, and therefore I hope you will not so vniustly stand vppon the aduantage: the Usurer answe­red him that his clocke went right and he would take none, v­pon which they fell at great debate, till at last other clocks in the towne strucke thrée also, which when the Iewe heard hée was glad, and bad him if he could count what it was a clocke, to be briefe he would not receiue a penny, but stoode to the ex­treamity of the morgage.

The poore Farmer grieuously perplexed, intreated him with teares, obiecting that if it were so a minutes breach was not much: but in vaine all his perswasions were bootelesse breathed into the ayre, for the Iew that had his hart as flinty as Adament, felt no remorse, but went into his closset, and left poore Limericke, with his complaints, who sorrowfully going [Page] home to his wife, bewraide the matter vnto her, who perta­king her husbands griefe with equall discontent, perswaded him to patience, and told him he had no better remedy then to make his complaint to the Signorie and rulers of the Cittie, which he did and cald the Iew at a Law day before the iudge, and there reuealed his case at large, for might ouercomming right, and money peruerting the truth, he went home with a flea in his eare, vtterly vndone and beggered, and the vsurer merily tryumphing in the verdite of his reuenues.

This past on a yeare or twoo, till at last poore Hans grew to that extreame want, that he [...] had neither money, credit, nor house to put his head in, which so vexed him, that at length he grew weary of his life, for being falne from a man of some account to great contempt by his pouerty, hee waxed into a kind of despairing lunacy, and had oftentimes in his melan­cholly humor slaine himselfe, had not his wife preuented him by her carefull diligence.

While thus Limericke liued in beggars estate with his wife and thrée small Children, this Iew (this Ioachim) this wret­ched Usurer, as he [...]ryumphed in his wealth, was one day suddenly stricken with sicknes that he went to his bed, and there lay till hee grew quesie at the heart, and then [...]e sent for phisitions whome he greased with golde, and [...]ad them spare for no cost, so he might recouer his former health: they applyed Potions, Electuaries, Glisters, Purgations, and Pilles, but in vaine. Contra vim mortis, non est medicamen in hortls.

They could find out no simple Hearbe, Stone nor Mine­rall, Drugge nor compound so comfortable, that any waye might mittigate his disease, so that growing past helpe of man, the Phisitiaus left him, and certaine deuout men of the towne came to perswade him to God, séeing hee was no man of this world, wishing him to enter with déepe insight into his owne minde, and to search his conscience for many wrongs and extorting iniuries hée had offered to poore men setting before his eyes the paynes of Hell due to sinners, as condigne punishment. Ioachim hearing all, along [Page] time with patience answered not a word, but only desired thē to depart, and to trouble him no more for a while: which they did, and he turning himselfe, lay two or thrée houres in a trāce considering and repeating in his mind, the infinite wrongs & palpable iniuries he had offered y^• poore, the widdow & father­lesse, which striking a remorse into his conscience, séeing hee must die, and measuring his sins with the instice of God, and hauing no grace to thinke vpon his mercy, he started vp, and with his eyes staring, cryed vnto his man and saide, oh the Plague, the plague, the plague is here my Ben, the plague: his man thinking he had ra [...] 'de for want of sléep, destred him to be patient, and to leaue off those franticke exclamations. Oh thou of my tribe (qd▪ he) I am in my right mind, the plague is here euen in my conscience, in my inward soule, I am worse then Cain or Iudas: I haue murdered more then they two by extor­tion, and therefore I cannot be saued: the plague in my consci­ence, my Ben, the plague: his man (although he hated his mai­ster,) and wisht him at the Deuill, yet to blind the world with the opinion of a dutifull seruant, he presently ran for the chiefe Burgamasters of the towne, who comming hastily to comfort and counsaile him, found him in this dispairing humor, & could by no means draw him to any hope of grace, wherevpon they left him as he liued, and so gaue him ouer to die, he continuing stil in this melancholly despaire. While thus he languished in this mad moode, Hans and his family harbored in poore estate in the Citty, and hearing of this extreame sicknes of the I [...]w, was glad that God had so sharply auenged him of his enemy: but yet this mishap bred him small help, whervpon desirous to die, he went, & at an Apothecaries shop bought him a mortall confection, which he purposed to take to rid him from his pre­sent misery.

Hauing kept it a long while in a Uioll, at last he sat in a great studdy vpon his present hard fortunes, and houering betwéen grace & dispaire, at last he resolued to go try now what this U­surer would doe, happily (sayd he to himselfe) his sicknes hath altered his conscience, and his minde is better now toucht [Page] with the doubt of death, then when before hee had no other thoughts but vpon life, so that I will make experience if hée will compassionate my miserie, and make some restitution of that which so wrongfully hee detaineth from mée. In this minde the poore man went to Gorions house, and knocking at the doore, be found none there but poore Beniamin, who was almost wearie of his life, with the extreame trauell that hée had with his lunaticke Iewish Master, and he poore soule be­gan to turne Christian, and to pitty the Farmer, and wisht him to come in.

It may be (saith he) grace yet will be sent to him, and the touch of his extortion will turne his conscience, therfore come vnto him, and speake face to face with him: The Farmer glad of this, came into the chamber and saluted him in most hum­ble manner. Who is that (oh Ben) saies the Iew, that salutes me? It is sir (quoth he) the poore farmer whose lands you en­tred vpon by a forfeit of morgage. At that as wel as he could, he raised himselfe vp in his bed, and cryed out Uillaine take héed, he comes to rob me, beware of him, looke to my Coffers, to my Gold, to my writings: where are my kepes? Sir (saith Beniamin) they be about your necke: for in his most extreami­ty, no, not till his latest gaspe would hée part from them, so that in a couetous lunacy hee gropt for them, held them fast, and cryed out the Plague, the Plague, oh Hell, [...]ell, the De­uill, the deuill.

So his man Ben perswaded him to be quiet and to remem­ber the poore man: the poore man, I marrye Ben, well sayd (quod the Iew) where is he? I will giue him his land again, I tooke from him wrongfully, and then he stoode staring him on the face, hee will not liue long saith his man stay you with him and talke with him, till I go out and call some neighbors to be with me.

The farmer was content, and so Beniamin went out and left them two together: as soone as hee was gone, the poore man began to instruct him to God-ward, and séeing he was ready to dye, to make restitution of such goods or Lands as hee [Page] with-held from any man by extortion.

At this the Iew [...] lookt on him very ghas [...]ly, and spyed the Uioll that y^• poore man held in his hand vnder his cloak, with that in a rage hee cryed out what hast thou there in the glasse? phisicke to coole my conscience that burnes like hell, hath the Deuill sent to heale me.

The Farmer séeing this desperate Iewe voide of all grace and giuen ouer by God into a reprobate sence, answered him briefly, he hath sent me to thée, and vild Usurer I haue broght thée phisicke from the Deuill to helpe thée. Oh welcome, wel­come saies the Iew, what is in it? what is in it? Marie saith the Farmer, there is in it these simples following.

Heere are the teares of poore men, distilled from their eyes through the anguish of thy extortion, and they are made luke­warm with the scalding s [...]ghes that throbs from their sorrow­full hearts, tempered with the curses of Widdowes and Or­phanes, whom thou hast brought to beggery: these boyld with the fire of Gods wrath, and put vp by the Deuill into a violl of despaire & prepared for thée to drinke, that after thou hast takē this potion, thou maist go to deuill without repentance.

Then giue it me (quoth he) and so he snatcht the violl of poisō out of the poore mans hand, and drunke it off, the confection being strong began to suffocate his sences, that he lay stil: per­ceiuing that he could not liue long, thoght now, séeing no body was there, to prouide for himselfe: conuey any chests he could not, steale any goods he might not, for hee had no oportunity, and therefore God putting it into his mind, hee tooke penne and paper, and writ a scedule to this effect.

The Scedule that the Farmer writ.

Ioachim Gorion being whole of minde, though s [...]ke in bo­dy, toucht with remorse of conscience for the manifest wrongs that I haue proffered to insinit poore men, Widdowes, and Fatherlesse Children, hoping that the mercie of God is more [Page] then my sins, do ordaine Hans van Limericke my lawfull heire and Executor, as a man whome aboue all I haue most wron­ged, conditionally that hee reward my man Beniamin, for his faithfull seruice: and for the surplu [...]age let it be to him and to his [...]eires for euer, of all my goods, lands, Cattles and mooue­ables, and that this is my last will and testament, I haue thereto set my seale at armes.

Hans Limericke hauing thus cunningly written it, and be­ing a good pen man, so excellently well counterfeited his hand that it might not easily be disc [...]rned, but the Iew himselfe had written it: so pulling his seale off from his finger, he sealed it, and then wrapping it vp put it in a purse that hung about the Iewes necke, for Ioachim was already sencelesse, and lay sta­ring, but the poison had so suffocated his pipes, that he could not speake.

By that came Beniamin with twoo or thrée poore men and Women to watch with him, whervpon the Farmer tooke his leaue, and his man asked him what newes: I can get no other answere of him than this, that when he is dead, I shall heare what he will doe. At that the Iew lookt Ben in the face, and as well as he could pointed to Hans, meaning how he had poi­soned him, but they tooke it that he meant some good should be done vnto Hans.

After his death, as soone as he was gone, the poison came to the last exigent, and the pangs of death [...]rewe on, and they all perceiued that there was no hope of life, which sorted accor­ding to their expectations, for within one halfe houre after the Iew died.

As soone as Beniamin saw him dead hée shed teares, more for fashion then for loue, and hauing like a wise Cooke lickt his owne fingers, that he neede no further legacy to shadowe the matter, sent one straight to signifie the matter vnto the Burgamasters, that Ioachim the Iewe was dead, and séeing that he had neither made will, nor yet had any kindred that might claime it as his heire, it were best for them to looke for the disposing of his goods.

[Page]The Burgamasters comming thither, with a generall con­sent, began to suruay euery chest in the house, and to search each corner putting all into an inuentory that they [...]ound, w^t [...]eing summed together, redounded to an infinite wealth: be­sides his lands, leases, and tenements, that he had in the Cit­tie and country thereabout: At last missing the keyes of cer­tain cheste that could not be vnlockt, Beniamin told them they hung about his necke at his purse, they wondering at the ex­céeding couetousnes of such a miserable man, smiled and took his purse, and searching what was in it, found the scrowle which Limericke had written, sealed with the Iewes seale at armes, which when they had well read ouer and determined vpon, they all censured that God had put some remorse into his conscience, both to make him heire whome he had so high­ly wronged, and that he was in so good a mind to make resti­tution of his misdéeds; Upon this they called a conuocation in their State-house, they sent after Hans, and by a generall de­crée, made him lawfull inheritour to the Iewe, so Hans from a beggar became richer than any Burgamaster, did many good d [...]eds to the poore, made restitution and well rewarded Benia­min, thanking God that the miserable vsurer had couetously gathered and had him to be his heire, whom he neuer so much as once dreamt of.

How in a houshold of ciuill warre, a woman may be safe from a cruell husband.

IN the County of Deuonshire, not farre from Exceter, there dwelled a Rope-maker whose name I conceale: this Rope-maker (whome I will call Richard) was about the age of some forty yeres, and he was a parlous sowre fellow, ill loued of his neighbours because he so vnkindly liked of his wiues: for this iolly companion had bin maried to thrée wiues in ten yeares, and had vsed them all so hardly, that he killed them all with kindnes.

This brought him in such hatred amongst all his nieghbors, [Page] that though he were a man of verry good wealth, and besides his occupation, landed: yet the poorest and basest wench in the whole country, did disdaine to match herselfe with such a fran­ticke husband, so that being a widdower, hee had no hope euer to match himselfe againe, where he was knowne, and there­fore apparelling himselfe hansomely, and putting store of crownes in his purse, he went into Somersetshire hard by Tanton, and there was a sutor to a widdowes daughter▪ that was a good propper maide and wellfauoured, but of no great wealth, & therfore the easier to be wooed, & won of a stranger.

This rope-maker being a good propper man, and of a come­ly personage, became a sutor to this maide, whose name was Mary, a wench of a good bone and a lusty complexion, much like to Lancashire breed, the maiden entering into considerati­on of her mothers estate, and her owne pouertie, and seeing she had few sutors, because the hope of her dowry was but small, listened the rather to Richards motion, who beeing of a smoothe tongue, and could set out himselfe well in talke, as the tiger when he meanes to prey, then euer hideth his claws, and where the Foord runnes smoothest, there is it deepest: so as the olde prouerbe is, the still Sow eates vp all the draffe: and he could vse such ciuill behauiour, trickt out with such e­loquent and glorious tearmes, that in short time he wonne the wench and married her, and after that he had remained a weeke or two at home with her mother, hee tooke his leaue to carry her home to his owne house: although there was some sorrow at parting betweene the mother and the daughter, yet because she loued Richard well, she tooke it patiently, and bee­ing hony moone, he seemed so chairy ouer her, that it grieued him the winde should blowe on her; well, home they went, and when she came where he dwelt, she found a house well sto­red with all things necessary, but she wondered as the custome was in their country, that none of his neighbors did come to welcome him to the towne: well, this past on till Sunday, and then she went to Church: when they of the towne did see [Page] that rich man the Rope-maker had gotten so propper a woman to his wife, they began to say that the more knaue had euer the better lucke, and indeed fortune was blinde when she suffered such a buzzard to light on such a chicken, and to pittie the poore womans mishappe, that had chaunced on such a froward and Hare braind Husband: yet foothing all vp with a good counte­nance, they after seruice was done, welcommed her vnto the parrish, and she returned them thankes very ciuillie. It chanced one wife amongst the rest, whose sister this Rope-maker had married and kild with kindenes, did long till she spake with Richards wife, that shee might make her priuy vnto her hus­bands vntoward qualities: and tarrying a great while to speake with her, at last finding oportunitie, discoursed vnto her how her husband had bene marryed vnto three wi [...]es, and how cru­elly he had dealt with them all, abusing them so, that they tooke such griefe, that for verie sorrow they all dyed, telling her from point to point a number of his ill conditions, which al­though they went colde to her heart, yet chearefully made the Woman answere, that what her husband had done before, it little toucht her: the woman hearing Richards wife speake so modestly, and in the defence of her husband, onely prayed God she might finde it so in the end, and so friend­ly they parted.

The Rope-makers wife being in a great perplexitie, that she had made such a choice in hast [...], that she might so deepely repent at leysure, hoping the best, shee went about her huswiferie till her husband came home, who returning within two daies af­ter, she welcommed him with all curtesie that a woman could affoord to her husband: he thanked her, but not with the same familiar countenance he was wont to doe, which streight made her suspect that her neighbors tale would prooue a true prophe­cie, but patiently brooking some vnkinde Frownes, shee dealt so carefully, louingly, and kindely with him, that he could find [...] no cause to beate her, insomuch that his olde dogged nature within one halfe yeare began to breake out, so that she easily [Page] perceiued he sought a knot in a rush, and aymed earnes [...]lye to finde some Cauell that hee might hansell her bones with a cudg [...]ll if shee lookt merrily on him, shee flowted him, and streight he lent her a boxe on the eare for her fleering.

If her countenance were solemnly modest, then she loathed him, and what he did: and cound about the house he went with a fayre Holly wand, if shee spoke vnto him she was talkatiue; and streight she had a blow on the lippes: if shee saide nothing she was [...]ullen: and he wold make her finde her tongue with a Ropes-ende, which he called a Salt-Eele, and with which a­gainst her will shee broake her fast, dinde, & supt many a time: whatsoeuer she did huswifly in the house, what meat she drest, what businesse she performed, al was misconstrued and rewar­ded with blowes, which draue y^• poor womā into such a quan­darie, that she wisht herselfe out of the world, her estate grow­ing worse & worse, at last his habit grew to a custom & so she ne­uer went vnbeaten to bed, so that as now gentlewomē weare their Maskes, so shee euerie Sunday went to Church with a black [...] Face, which her neighbours espying▪ as they pittied her, so they smiled, that at length she had found their forewarnings to bee no other but meere prophecies, but although they had libertie to les [...], so she had occasion to sorrowe, for the miserable man would driue her into great extremities, and make tryall of her patient nature, with wondrous contrarieties: for some time comming home late in the night, hee would bring sun­drye of his Neighbor [...] with him, and to shewe how hee could domineere ouer his wife, hee would make her light a pound of Candles at the great ende, which if either in iest or earnest shee refusde to doe, str [...]ight about the house shee went, and had a gentle remembrance to remember his fin­gers a mo [...]th after.

And amongst the rest, one day to haue the world thinke in what seruile slauerie his wife stood of him, hee caused her to stand by him, while hée made Ropes, and fill a Siue with water, a labour as endlesse, as painefull and contemptible, [Page] so that the ne ghbor [...] and passengers noting it, some praised the w [...]m [...]ns patience▪ that executed her husbands foolish charge, with so stedfast and resolute a countenance: the poore wise liuing in this miser [...]e by the space of some three or four [...] yeares▪ so one day being alone by her selfe, looking in a glasse, and considering aduisedly how her wonted countenance was blemisht by her husbands vnkindenes, shee fetcht a great figh, and sware a m [...]rtall and fatal reuenge, so that a deepe hate of his ill qualities entring into her thoughts, shee resolu'd to make him repent those many yeares he had made her leade in such s [...]ruile miserie.

In this determination she gathered her wits together, and sought how to crie quit [...]ance with her husband, yet could shee finde no certaine meanes speedily to auo [...]de the shrewish dis­position of such an earthly Deu [...]ll, but bearing the Crosse with patience, [...]ested the verse subiect of distresse: to run away shee would not, to withstand him she could not, she shamd to make complaint to the Iustices: and thus euerie way she was voide of any remedie, so that she brookt al, and went about her busi­nes, till on a time fortune smiling vppon her, and intending to giue truce to this poore woman, it chanced that as shee was gathering r [...]she [...] to make her house cleanly, against the next Holly-day, sitting & sighing at her vnhappines, she heard one sing a merrie song, which she gaue eare vnto: The effect wher­of, agreed greatly with her melācholly disposition, for it armed a salue for that sore, that so pincht her, and applide a medicin [...] for her continuall malladie: the contentes of the song were these.

THe olde woman hauing thus ended her song, the poore wife that with teares for ioy, heard some hope of her re­dresse, drew neere to finde out this olde woman, who had sung such a pleasant Dittie, and finding her foorth, shee saluted her [Page] and after sundry broken sighes, flowen out of a pensiue conscience, she began to breake with her in this man­ner.

Mother (quoth she) as your age is great, so your experience is much, and therefore would I willingly discouer some parte of my griefe vnto you: the [...]uld woman seeing the wiues face, full of sorrow, noting in her the very An [...]atomie of a pensiue woman, began to compassionate her fortunes, and therefore wisht her miloely and friendly, to r [...]ueal [...] the cause of her di­stresse, & if any way it lay in her power, to satisfie her thoughts, her cares should be cured with either counsaile or comfort: the poore wife hearing the old woman speak with such a familiar relish vnto her, began her complaint thus:

The wiues complain [...], of the conditions of an ill husband.

MOther I cannot conce [...]t my [...] without [...]ighes, nor manifest my sorrowes without [...]eares, so bitter is the e­state of my fortunes, and so ha [...]lesse is the euent of my redresse: I was once as you haue be [...], a maide, and then the countrie Farmers reported my beautie to be as great, as now my mise­rie is extreame: Fate so appointed that I was woed and wonne by a rope-maker, a man I think (mother) not vnknowne vnto your selfe, if for no other cause, yet for the hard vsage of his wiues, and with that the poore woman bu [...]st into bitter teares, and the olde woman began to [...]gh, in vttering her conceit with an oath, asked if she were the maide that Richard the rope-maker had maried? I am mother quoth she, that vnfortunate wife, that was once a maide, whose fortunes are made intolle­rable, by the bad nature of a froward husband▪ whose custome is neither at bed or at boord, to shew me any good countenance: if I looke so [...]erly, then I am t [...]oubled with the sull [...]ns, and then he wakeneth me with a hollie w [...]and: if I salute any of my neighbours with good-morrow, he saieth they are my Copes­ma [...]es, and then my bones beares the burthen: If I speake [Page] to none, he saith I scorne such as are his friends, and hee will make me find my tongue: if in my bed I fall asleepe, bee­ing wearied with labor, he pincheth me wickedly, and cals me drowsie drunkard: if I ouer-wake him, then he puls me by the haire of the head, and saith I watch to cut his throat, when he is asleepe: yet mother, these are not the greatest sor­rowes, for he hath a maide at home which he loues better then mee, and her be setteth on his knee before my face hee, cuts her the first morsell of the meat, and oftentimes in the night he ri­seth from me to goe to her, and in the day if I but wish her to goe to her worke, if she frowne, then am I most pittifully bea­ten, as you may witnes with your eies, and with that shee discouered her naked bodie to her, which was all brused blacke and blew, with stripes, and yet mother (quoth she) these are not the greatest sorrowes.

The olde woman colde at the heart, with th [...] rehearsall of this poore wiues calamities, made her this [...]inde answere: daughter inough, I knowe by the man much ill, as this sixteene yeares that I haue knowne him, I haue entred into many discourses of his villanies, but le [...]ting him passe as he is, to the present redresse of thy miseries, what, sayes shee, hast thou no friends to goe vnto, whose abillitie may counteruaile his currishnes, and bridle him by the lawe, for such beastlines? Alas aunswered she, I haue none but an olde woman and poore like your selfe to my mother, and it grieues me to make a bootlesse complaint vnto her: why then (saith the olde woman) hast thou no friend who for the possession of thy loue may haue him about the pate, and so reuenge thy iniuries? Alas (mother) better had I dye miserably, then dishonestly, I haue none, And saith the olde Matron, I see thou art not strong inough to match him with blowes, and therefore must I flye for thy suc­cour to my last phisicke: whose principles be so auth [...]nti­call and sure, that they neuer misse, therfore tell me, hast thou any woman, that thou dar'st commit thy secrets vn­to?

[Page]O Mother (saith she) two or three his mortall enemies, and my greatest friends: then Daughter feare not (replyed the old [...] Counsellor) but listen well to my aduise: goe thy wa [...]es home, and doe somthing that may displease. Alas (said she) that I may easily doe, for I cannot doe any thing that can please him: but what then, shall I seeke my owne destruction to bee bea­ten? for once daughter (qd. she) when thou maist for that bea­ting liue at quiet for euer▪ But as soone as he offers to strike thee, stand in de [...]ance of him, and say thou hast praied vnto our Lady for helpe, and she hath promised to helpe thee, and to reuenge all thy iniuries, and therefore bid him if he dares, but once while he liues touch thee againe in anger. If then he [...] wil swinge thee, beare it patiently, and take this powder that I shall giue thee, and when thou knowst he goes to worke alone by himselfe, giue it him in drink: the vertue of the powder is to [...]uffocate and choake vp his sences, so that he shall not haue any feeling for the space of [...]ire honres, but he shall lye like a liue­lesse carkasse, and his dreames shall bée of women, & Angells: then daughter (& then she whispred many matters in her eares) whether they were charmes or spelles I cannot tell, but this I am sure it was some good conceit, for the poore wife wept for ioy, and on her knees thanked the woman for her aduise, and so they parted, she promising to bring her word within ten daies how her phisicke had taken effect: well, to be short, merrily goes this good wife home, and findes her husband dallying with her maide, at which sight her stomacke rose, and began to take him vp sharpely, and to sweare that if she tooke her Maide and him so suspitiously together againe, she would complaine of him to the Iustices, and cut off her mades nose for a generall exam­ple to such whor [...]s as she was.

The Rope-maker (this gentle Richard) pondering at his wiues vnaccustomed brauling, began to start vp, and to séeke for a [...]udgell, with that shée as a woman resolued to follow her late counsell, made this reply:

Nay brain-sicke villaine, strike me if thou darst, for through thy long abuses I haue hartily praied to our Lady for reuenge [Page] and she hath this day appeared to me, and promised me, that if thou doost heereafter, but touch the hemme of my vesture in anger, she will be auenged vppon thee so extreamely, that thou shalt repent the abuses thou hast proffered me, as long as thou dost liue. Richard smiling at this reply, made his wife this answere, huswife (quoth he) if our Lady haue appeared vnto you, our Lord her sonne hath shewed me a vision, that he that hath an ill wife and will not [...]eat her, shall lead apes in hell for his labor, and with that he fell vppon her, and pumnield her so soundly, that he had almost kild her, and she began halfe to repent that she followed the olde womans counsaile, yet hoping for time to reuenge, she bare all things with the more patience, and finding oportunitie vppon a day or two af­ter to speake with her gossips, she reuealed vnto them the con­tents of the ould wiues counsaile, whereat they triumphing and glorying in this determination, they promised to plague him, and to performe whatsoeuer should redound to her com­moditie, auowing such secrecie, as that it should neuer come out by any meanes whatsoeuer.

Time passing on thus, it fortuned that our Rope-maker, and his maide, were wont euery weeke twice, to goe to a strange house, and there she turned the wheele while he twi­sted his ropes, when their busines was done, what excercise they vsed I knowe not: one day amongst the rest Richard and his maide going alone to this solitarie place, to make their ropes, he commaunded his wife to fill them a bottle full of drinke, for he could not returne before night: she glad of this oportunitie, put the dormitarie powder that the ould wife had giuen her into the bottle, which they [...]aking went their waies merrily together, and the drink and the powder with iogging was made a mere potion, as soone as they were gone▪ she stept out and went to her [...], and discourst vnto them the whole matter, and with that shee drew out from vnder her ke [...]le two three stringed whippes of sharp and hard twisted cordes, with [...]ound knots vpon the endes, able to cut the slesh with a small stroak, these she be queathed vnto them, and hum­bly [Page] vppon her knees, desired them not to spare for pittie to pu­nish them to the highest extreamitie: they promised to shewe iustice without mercie & especialy one of thē who was sister to one of his former wiues, that he had kild with kindenesse, who for an olde grudge did intend now to bee fully [...]euenged, and so they went to the graunge house, where leauing them con­sulting together, and the good wife gone home full of hope, let vs returne to the Rope-maker (Richard and his maide.)

Richard after hee had dispatched some part of his businesse, would to dinner or drinking, and after his Maide and he had louingly broken their Fast, they would like Doues fall to bil­ling, but hauing drunke soundly of the potion, it began to mortifie their sences, that hee desirous to take a nappe, laying his head in his Maides lappe, fell fast a sleepe, and shee as hea­uie as he, leaning her head on her maisters shoulders was in a deade traunce.

When these two Gossips came and foun [...] them thus drow­sely tumbled together, although they saw them soundly a sleep, yet were they aff [...]aide vntill they had made experience of the effects of the potion: for they shooke them, prickt them with pinnes, and vsed all meanes to awake them, but it was im­possible, whereupon they grew [...]olde, and pulled off his apparel not so much as leauing his shirt vppon him, and they fell vnto belabouring of him with their whips, in such monstrous man­ner, that the blood came downe aboundantly from all partes of his bodie, and they cut him with their lashes to the verie si­newes, so then at length they ceaste, pulled on his apparell as it was before, and drest him vp verie mannerly, not so much as leauing his points vntrust, or any thing vndone, whereby he might perceiue hee had bene made vnready.

Hauing thus drest him in his kinde, they fell to his Maide, and serued her with the same sauce, that her maister was vsed with all, and when they had punished her throughly, they drest her againe, laced vp her cloathes, and laide them together as they found them, and went their waies merrily to the Rope-makers house, discoursing vnto their Gossip all what had hap­ned, [Page] who ioyfull of this newes, made them the best cheere in her house, and thanked them heartily for their labours, promi­sing the next day to tell them what her husband would suspend in this tragedie.

Wel, the time of the working of y^• potion being at an end, sith they drunke together, they began to awake together, but the Maide being youngest, had the strongest sences, and therefore the operation [...]oonest wasted in her, and halfe between s [...]umber and awake about to stretch herselfe as drowsie folkes doe, her smocke so cleaued to her skin▪ that the verie smart thereof made her not onely awake but to shrieke out, so that when shee was come to her selfe she wondred what shee ailed, that all her flesh was so sore, so that pulling vp her petticoate and looking vpon her thighes, shee found them all in a gore blood, lasht and cut in with Whip-corde almost halfe an inch deepe, which made her to stand in a mase, wondring how she should become so gree­uouslie tormented. At last vnlas [...]ng herselfe, shee found all her body worse, so that shee could not lift her hands to her head. Whereupon she cried out▪ and her maister awoke, & being halfe in a dreame, and his eyes scarce open, as hee was about to stretch him▪ his shirt claue so to his backe, that hee felt intolle­rable paines.

Oh Isabell (quoth he) what aile I? or where am I? what haue I drempt? and what doe I feele? Alas Maister, I am al­most whipt to death since I fell a sleepe. I thinke it is some ac­cursed Fa [...]ries that haue done this deede, and shee shewed him all her body, whereat hee fell into bitter teares, and then shee tolde him that shee was laced and braced as shee was before. Alas Isabell (quoth hee) helpe mee [...]o vn­butten mee, for I cannot stirre my hand to my bossome I am so sore, then vntrussing him hee found himselfe worse whipt then his Maide, whereupon hee fel into consideration of the wordes of his wife vsed against him, threatning him that our Lady would reuenge her wrongs, so that he told his maid, no doubt it was the Uirgine Marie that had thus punisht [Page] them both for the wrongs hee had proffered against his wi [...]e, promising if euer God sent him to his health, hee would neuer strike her againe, nor misuse her so long as hee liued. So he de­sired his Maide to helpe him home, and shee as Lame as hée could scarse rise, yet one of them helping one another, they went cra [...]ping home as well as they could.

As the w [...]nt lamenting home by the way, they mette with the Uicar of the Parish: this olde Sir Iohn meeting his neigh­bors (and one of his friends and parishioners) in this woful per­ple [...]t [...]e asked him how he fared.

Oh Maister Uicar (quoth hee) not as a man in this world, you seeme weake (quoth the Uicar) sit downe and rest you, and tell me where your greefe lyes, happily I may gi [...]e you some good counsaile. Oh Maister Uicar (quoth hee) I am in no case to sit downe, I am so beaten with whipps, that I can­not stirre any ioint of my body without paines. Why what ayle you? how should it come so to passe? with that the Rope-maker told him from point to point what had hapned to him, and to his Maide, and how his wife threatned him the other day, how that our Lady had appeared vnto her, and promised reuenge, and I thinke it is she or some of her holy Angells that hath whipt me and my Maide, for wee slept but a nappe, and when wee awoke, wee found neither hand nor foote stirred, nopoint vntrust, no button vnbuttoned, nothing out of order, and yet our selues so whipt, that I thinke I cannot liue till the morning, wherefore good Maister Uicar pray for me.

Sir Iohn hearing this, was wonderfully astonied, & wisht him to goe home to his wi [...]e, to mend his manners, and recon­cile himselfe vnto her, and hee would pray for him the next day in the Church: so they parted, and hom [...] stumbles Richard and his Maide, and comming to the doore found his wife sitting in the entrieat her wheele, she seeing her husband comming so simply and weakely with his Maide, although shee tickled at her heart for ioy that they were so well whipt, yet shee fained great sorrowe at their present sight, and throwing downe her wheele for hast [...]ran and met him, and weeping fained teares, [Page] said alas, alas, what ailes my husband? and offered to take him by the arme to [...]ay him, he cryed out: oh wife touch mée not, I am sore sicke and cannot escape death, our Lady at thy request hath giuen me I feare me my deathes wound, for shée hath almoste whipt me and my maide to death: oh wife for­giue vs, and pray for vs, and if we euer hap to liue together, I will amend my life, and become a new man, and neuer speake angrie word to thee againe while I haue breath in my bodye, the Wife séeming passing sorrowfull at this, wisht that our Lady had giuen her so much, so that he had escaped, so helping him in, shee laide him downe vppon a soft pallet, and came and tolde her Gossips what had hapned, and how her husband came home, and his maide with him So they came with her hastilye laughing amōgst themselues, but to his face pittying the chance so that by their helpe his maid and he were holpen to their beds, where when they had lyen a little, and were come to some warmth, their flesh [...]ell on bleeding a fresh, so that the Surgeon being sent for to stanch the blood, seeing their woundes, and hearing the strange case, fel in a great amase with himselfe and said the dooing of God was wonderfull: much adoe hee had to stop the Fluxe of the blood, yet at last he got it stauncht, but they lay in moste miserable perplexitie, almoste slaine with the whipping.

Well, the newes of this (as women are borne blab [...]) began to goe about the towne, yet the two Gossips wondered at it, as much as the rest, and this hapning vpon a satterday, the next day being sunday, (good honest Sir Iohn) came to visite his neighbour, and finding him almost speechles, after some words of comfort vnto him▪ he went to Church, where after the first Lesson, he began a certaine prayer for the health of the Rope-maker, who hee saide lay speechlesse, and at the mercie of God, and that through a strange and wonderfull fortune, and therefore desiring all them that were present to pray for him, he began to take his text out of Saint Peter, how wiues shold obey their husbands, and husbands cherrish their wiues, sith they were but one flesh, and therein for an example brogh [...] [Page] in the strange aduenture of Richard the Rope-maker how hée had abused himselfe to all his wiues, and so making manifest the wickednes of his life, did tell them what reuenge our bles­sed Lady had taken vpon him in a dreame, and so from point to point discourst vnto them what had hapned vnto him, wishing them by his example to amend their liues, least for beating their wiues the like punishment fall vpon them This text no little pleased the wiues of the parish, for they tickled at it▪ and the men they were amazed to heare of such a wonderful chanc [...] so that in the after noone, al the parish came to see him and be­holde him, as if Lazarus had bin rizen from the dead, there fin­ding a more pittifull spectacle then maister Uicar had told them of, they all saide that as the case was verry strange, so the re­uenge was iust, such as were to shrewes to their [...]iues, bit the lip, and were afraide of our Ladies whipping. At last Richard gathering his spirits, and his speeches together, exhorted his Neighbours by his ex [...]mple, not to abuse and beate their wiues, telling vnto them th [...] full [...] of this Tragedie.

This discourse pleased the Wiues, and affrighted the hus­bands, so that if any in the towne offered to strike his wife▪ shée would streight vow to make her complaint at our Ladies shrin [...], and so they scapte many a sharp scoure▪ But to be bréefe▪ Richard lay long sicke and his maide, and his wife ten­ded and comforted them so well, that at length they recouered some part of their strength▪ and when he was able to walke a­broad, he humbled himselfe to his wife, and [...]urst not abuse her al his life after, & if by chance they had fallen out, she would say streight, wel, I say no more, but our Lady requi [...]e my iniuries: and then would her husband neuer goe abroad till his wife and hee were reconciled and made friendes, so euer after shee war [...] the breeches, & was Maister, and all the Wiues in the parrish fared the better, and were all greater benefactors to the Shrin [...] of our Lady, that rid them from the hands of their iniu [...]ious husbands.

And thus with a Rauens quill haue I written this Alma­nacke, which foretelleth strange, ominou [...] & most dir [...] euents, [Page] The plagues whereof I haue spoke shall as certainely fall out, as the Famin, and the Ciuill wars: all three are dreadfull, all three are at hand. Make b [...]n [...]res therefore in your streets, (O you Cittizens) to purge the ayre of all infection, albeit you kéep the inward houses of your bodies neuer so vn cleane it is no matter. Open your gates to let in the countrie folkes, with prouision, to beate backe famin, but let the markets bee looked vnto as mens consciences are: that is to say, euerie one to racke it how he listeth, As for ciuill warres there is good hope, they shall quickly be quenched, because so many hundreds of Con­stables watch day and night within the walles to keep the peace: But by no meanes step you in and bee sticklers when the Church is at [...]arre within he [...] selfe by schismes or by Tem­porizer [...], or when the husband and wife, the Father and Son, the Maister and Seruant, or when any other limbe of the po­liticke body challengeth the combat against him, whome by nature hee is bound to defend: if any predictions bring thée in pleasure or proffit, thou wil [...] encourage mee to play the right Almanacke maker, and in another yeare to sing mor [...]ie tunes of my faire weather, as in this I haue strucke a dull string, sounbing onely stormes. In the meane time suffer my Rauen (being wearie) to flye to some tree of rest, and there to prune her selfe of this s [...]cke Feathers, which she hath caught by medling with the disea­ses of 1609.