The Gentle Craft. A DISCOVRSE Containing many matters of Delight, very pleasant to be read: Shewing what famous men have beene SHOOMAKERS in time past in this Land, with their worthy deeds and great Hospitality. Declaring the cause why it is called the GENTLE CRAFT: and also how the Proverbe first grew;

A Shoomakers sonne is a Prince borne. T. D.

With gentlenesse judge you,
At nothing here grudge you;
The merry Shoomakers delight in good sport:
What here is presented,
Be there with contented;
And as you doe like it, so give your report.
Haud curo invidiam.

LONDON: Printed for ROBERT BIRD, 1637.

To all the good Yeomen of the GENTLE CRAFT.

YOu that the gentle craft profess, list to my words both more & lesse
And I shall tel you many things, of worthy and renowned Kings▪
And diuers Lords and knights also that were shoomakers long agoe,
Some of them in their distresse, delighted in this businesse.
And some, for whō great wait was laid, did saue their liues by this same trade,
Other some, in sport and game, delighted much to learne the same,
No other Trade in all the Land they thought so fit vnto their hand;
For euermore they stil did find, that shoomakers bore a gallant mind,
Men they were of high conceit, the which wrought many a merry feat
Stout of courage were they still, and in their weapons had great skil,
Trauellers by sea and land, each country guise to vnderstand.
Wrong they wrought not any man, with reason al things did they sca [...].
Good houses kept they euermore, releeuing both the sicke and poore.
In law no mony would they spēd, their quarels friendly wold they end
No malice did they beare to any, but shew'd great fauour vnto many;
Offences soone they would forgiue, they would not in contention liue
Thus in ioy they spent their daies, with pleasant songs and roundelaies
And God did blesse them with content; sufficient for them he sent,
And neuer yet did any know, a shoomaker a begging goe:
Kind are they one to another, vsing each stranger as his brother.
Thus liu'd shoomakers of old, as ancient writers haue it told:
And thus shoomakers still would be, so fame from them shall neuer flee▪

To all courteous Readers, health.

HOw Saint Hugh was sonne vnto the renowned King of Powis, a noble Britaine borne, who in the prime of his yeares loued the fore Virgin Winifred, who was the only daughter of Donwallo, which was the last King that euer raigned in Tegina, which is now called Flint-shire But she refusing al offers of loue, was only plea­sed with a religious life. Her father was sent to Rome, & dyed; whose La­dy left her life long before. This Virgin therefore for sooke her fathers Princely palace in Pont Varry, and made her whole abiding in the most sweet pleasant Vally of Sich [...]a [...]nt, and liued there solitarily, and care­lesse of all companie or comfort. It chanced that in Summers heate, this faire Virgin being greatly distressed for lacke of drinke, and not knowing where to get any, there sprung vp suddenly a christall streame of most sweet and pleasant water out of the hard ground, whereof this Virgin did daily drinke: Vnto the which God himselfe gaue so great a vertue, that many people hauing beene washed therein, were healed of diuers and sundry infirmities wherewith they were borne. Moreouer, round about this well, where this Virgin did vse to walke, did grow a kinde of Mosse, which is of a most sweet sauour, and the colour thereof is as fresh in Winter as in Summer; so that lying thereon, you would suppose your selfe to be on a bed of Downe, perfumed with most pre­cious odours? And what of all this; Marry read the booke and you shall know; but reade nothing except you reade all. And why so? Be­cause the beginning shewes not the middle, and the middle shewes not the latter end.

And so farewell.

The pleasant Historie of S. HVGH; and first of all his most constant loue to the faire Virgin WINIFRED.

COnquering and most imperious Loue, hauing seized on the heart of young sir Hugh, all his wits were set on worke, how for to compasse the loue of the faire Uirgin Winifred, whose disdaine was the chiefe cause of his care hauing, receiued many in­finite sorrowes for her sake: but as a streame of water being stopt, ouerfloweth the banke; so smothered desire doth burst out into a great flame of fire, which made this malecontented Louer to séeke some meanes to appease the stri [...]e of his contentious thoughts, wherevpon he began to incourage him­selfe: Tush Hugh, let not a few froward words of a woman dismay thée, for they loue to be intreated, and delight to bee wooed, though they would make the world beléeue otherwise; for their denyals pro­céed more of nicenesse then niggardlinesse, refusing that they would feignest haue. What if sometimes Winifred frowne on thée? yet her fauours may excéed her frowardnesse. The Sunne is sometimes ouer­cast with clouds, so that his brightnesse is not séene. In warres the [...]orer the fight is, the greater is the glory of the victorie; and the har­der a woman is to be wonne, the swéeter is her loue when it is obtai­ned: wherefore Ile once againe try my fortune, and see what successe my sute shall find. On this resolution sir Hugh returned to Winifred, gréeting her thus: Now faire Lady, hauing slept away the remem­brance of your sharpe answers; I come againe in a new concest, to reviue an old sute, and to sée if the change of the [...]ay will yée da change of dolours. Truly Sir Hugh (quoth she) if with the change of the day you haue changed your opinion: your dolour will bée driuen away well enough: but as touching your sute it shall be n [...]dlesse to repeate it because I am not willing to preferre it.

Stay there (quoth s [...] Hugh) I will preferre it, so that you will ac­cept it. Now quoth she, I will accept it, if you will preferre it; in send­ing [Page] it backe to the place from whence it procéeded, and I would to God I could send you away as soone as your sute. Why then belike I am not welcome, said sir Hugh. Yes quoth she, as welcome to me, as a storme to a distressed Mariner: I muse greatly that reason will not rule you, nor words win you from your wilfulnesse: if you were as weary to wooe as I am wearie to heare you, I am perswaded that long since you would haue ceased your vaine sute. You thinke by these perswasions to turne my opinion, but as well you may thinke that you may quench fire with oyle: therefore I pray you good sir Hugh, be not so tedious vnto me, nor troublesome to your selfe.

Come, come, quoth he, all this will not serue your turue, ponder with thy selfe Winifred that thou art faire, O that thou wert as fauo­rable; thy beauty hath bound me to be thy seruant, and neuer to cease till I sée another obtaine thée, or my selfe be possessed of my hearts con­tent. Thou art a Kings daughter, and I a princes sonne, staine not the glory of true Nobility with the foule sin of obstinacie, but be thou as kind, as thou art courtly, and gentle as thou art noble, & then shall our strife soone end.

Winifred perceiuing that the farther off she was to grant loue, the more eager he was to desire it, shifted him off thus: Sir although your ouerhastinesse driue me into the greater doubtfulnesse, yet let me in­treat you, if you loue me, to giue me one moneth respite to consi­der on this matter, and it may be that vpon my better deliberation it shall be pleasing vnto you, and not at all discontent me.

Faire loue, quoth he, farre be it from my heart to denie so kind a re­quest; I am content to stay a moneth from thy sight, were it two or thrée, vpon condition that thou wouldest then grant mée thy good will: thrée moneths, although it bee very long, yet it will come at last, and could be content for that time to bee dead for thy sake, in somuch that my life might be renewed by thy loue.

Nay (quoth Winifred) stay thrée moneths and stay for euer: by this a Maid may see how readie men are vpon a light occasion to take long daies, whose loues are like a Ferne bush, soone set one fire, and soone consumed, and séeing it is so, in faith sir Hugh I doe meane to try you better before I trust you.

Pardon me faire Winifred, said sir Hugh, if my tongue doe outslip my wit: in truth I speake but to please thée, though to displease my selfe: but I pray thée, let it not be thrée houres, nor thrée quarters of an houre, if thou wilt.

[Page]Nay, nay (quoth she) your first word shall stand: after thrée months come to me againe, and then you shall know my minde to the full, and so good sir Hugh be gone: but if I doe euer heare from thée, or sée thée betwixt this time and the time prefixed, I will for euer hereafter blot thy name out of my booke of Remembrances, and neuer yeild thée that courtisie which thou at this time so earnestly intreatest for.

Sir Hugh vpon these words departed betwixt hope and dread, much like to a man committing a trespasse, that stayed for the sentence of life or death.

O vnhappy man, quoth he, how hath my ouer slippery tongue leng­thened y time of my sorrow: she of her selfe most courteously requested of me but one months stay, and I most willingly & vndiscréetly added there to eight wéekes more of misery: much like the Hind, that hauing a knife giuen him to paire his nailes, did there with murder himselfe.

Now I could wish that the Sunne had Eagles wings, swiftly to fly through the faire [...]rmament, and finish sixe daies in one dayes time: With that he began to count the dayes and houres that were in thrée months, falling (in a manner) to despaire with himselfe when he found them so many in number: and therewithall melancholily and sadly he went to his fathers house, where his brother Griffith found by his coūt­tenance the perfect map of a pensiue louer: whervpon he said vnto him.

Why how now brother? hath Winifreds faire beauty so greatly wounded you, as you cannot speake a merry word to your freinds, but sit in a corner, as if you were tonguelesse like a Stocke: tush brother, women are like shadowes, for the more a man followes then the faster mey run away: but let a man turne his course, and then they will pre­sently follow him. What man? plucke vp a good heart: for there are more women now, then liued in the time of our old father Adam.

O, said Hugh, were there ten thousand times more then there are now, what were that to me, if Winifred he vnkinde? yet is she the oile that still maintaines she lampe of my light, and without her there is nothing comfortable to my sight.

Then (replied Griffith) you are as much troubled in loue, as a Goat in an ague, and as blind as a Flie in October, that will stand still while a man cuts off his head. Come, goe a hunting with me, that will driue away your ouer [...]ond conceits, and you shall sée that these thrée months wil come vpon you as a quarter day vpon a poore man that hath neuer a pennie ready towards the payment of his rent.

CHAP. II.

How beautifull Winifred being ouermuch superstitious, forsooke her fathers wealth and liued poorely by a springing fountaine, from whence no man could get her to goe; which Spring to this day is called Wini­freds▪ Well.

VVInifred, who had but of late yéeres with her owne father re­ceiued the Christian Faith, became so superstitious, that she thought the wealth of the world for euer would haue béene an heauie burthen for hersoule, and haue drawne her mind from the loue of her Maker, wherfore forsaking al manner of earthly pomp she liued along time very poorely, hard by the side of a most pleasant springing well: from which place neither her freinds by [...]ntreaty, nor her fees by vio­lence could bring her: which sir Hugh hearing, he went thither imme­diately after vnto her, which was the time limited by them both, & find­ing her mind altogether altered, hee wondred not a little what shee meant. And when he aproached neare vnto the place where she safe, all s [...]ed in simple attire, he sa [...]ed her with these words.

All health to faire Winifred: I trust (my deare) that now the Deffi­n [...]es haue yéelded a conuenient oporunity for me to finish my long be­gun sute, with the end of my former sorrowes. Long and tedious hath the winter of my woes béene, which with nipping care hath blasted the beautie of my youthful delight, which is like neuer againe to flourish, ex­cept the bright Sun-shine of thy fauour doe renew the same: therefore (faire loue) remember thy promise made vnto me, and put me no more off with vnpleasing delaies.

Shee (which all this while safe solemnly reading in her booke) lent little eare vnto his words; which he perceiuing, pluckt her by the arme saying: Wherefore answereth not my faire Loue, to her dearest per­plexed friend?

What would you haue, quoth she▪ can I neuer be quiet for you? is there no corner of content in this world to be [...]ound?

Yes Winifred, said he, content dwe [...]ls here or no where, content me and [...] will content thée. If my content may be thy content then read this booke, and there rests content, said Winifred; and if thou refuse this, then thinke not to find content on earth.

Sir Hugh replied, What, is this all the reward I shall haue for o­beying your heart-cutting commandement Haue I thus long hoped, and find no better ha [...]? You wot well that it is now thrée long monthes [Page] since these eyes tooke comfort of thy beauty, and since that time that my bléeding heart hath receiued ioy in thy great gentlenesse.

I haue forgot you quite, said she, what thrée moneths is that you speak of? for my part I assure you, that it is as farre out of my mind, as you are from the mount of Calvary.

Faire Winifred (quoth he) haue you forgotten me, and there withall my loue which was so effectually grounded opon your good liking? you told me, that now I should receiue an answer to my content.

O Sir (quoth she) you haue stayed ouerlong, and your words are in my hearing, as vnprofitable as snow in haruest: my loue is fled to hea­uen, from whence no earthly man can fetch it, and therefore build not in vaine hope, nor doe thou deceiue thy selfe by following an vnpro­fitable snite: if euer I loue earthly man, it shall be thee, insomuch as thou hast deserued an earthly Ladies loue; but my loue is setled for euer, both in this world, and in the world to come: and this I most ear­nestly intre [...]t [...]hee to take for a finall answer.

With that Sir Hugh turning his head aside, wept most bitterly, and in going away, he glanced his eye still backe againe after his loue, say­ing to himselfe: O vnconstant women, wauering and vncertaine, how many sorrowes are fond men drawne into by your wily inticements? Who are also swallowed vp in the gaping gulfe of care, while they list­en after the heart-liking sound of your inchanting voices. O Winifred, full little did I thinke that so hard a heart could haue béen shrouded vn­der so swéet and louing a countenance: but seeing that my good will is thus vnkindly requited, I will altogether abhorre the sight of women, and I will séeke the world throughout, but I will find out some blessed plot, where no kind of such corrrupt cattell doe br [...]ed.

Hereupon all in a hot hasty humour he made preparation for to go be­yond the Seas, suting himselfe after the nature of a melancholly man; and arriuing in France, he tooke his iourney towards Paris, which city (at that time) was well replenished with many goodly faire women, as will as Brittaine, though to his thinking nothing so louely, but neuer­thelesse what they wanted in beauty, they had in brauery: which when sir Hugh saw, he suddenly departed from that place, counting it the most pernicious place in the whole Country; and from thence hée went into Italy, where he found such [...]ately Dames, & louely Ladies, whom Nature had adorned with all perfection of outward beauty, whose sight put him againe in remembrance of his faire Loue, which like fresh fuell newly augmented the flame of his burning desire: O [Page] (sal [...] he) how vnhappy am I to be haunted by these heart-formenting f [...]en [...]s, bewitching the eyes of simple men with Angel▪like faces, & like enchanting circes, bring them to a Labyrinth of continuall woes.

O Winifred▪ thy pée [...]nesse hath bred my dangers, & done thy selfe no good at all Thou sittest wéeping by a Christall streame, where is no need of water, while I wander vp & downe, séeking to forget thee, thou neuer remembrest me; hauing drawne the fountaine of mine eyes dry through thy discour [...]eous disdaine. Might I neuer sée any of thy sexe, my heart would be more at quiet, but euery place where I come puts me in mind of thy perfections, & therewithall renewes my paine: but I will from hence as soon as possible I can, though not so soon as I would for feare le [...] these swéet serpents should sting me to death with delight.

Hereupon he passed on so farre, that at length he came to a City sti [...] ­ [...]ted in the Sea, and compassed with she wilde Ocean. Here (quoth sir Hugh) is a fit place for melancholy men; where it is supposed no wo­men doe line, insomuch that their delicate bodies cannot abide the sa [...]t fauor of the mounting waues: if it be so, there will I make my resi­dence, counting it the most blessed place vnder heauen. But he was no sooner set on land, but he beheld whole troopes of louely Ladies, passing vp and downe in most sumptuous attire, framing their gestures answe­rable to their beauties and comely personages.

Nay now I sée (quoth sir Hugh) that the whole world is infected with these deceiuing Syrens, & therefore in vaine [...]st is for me to séeke for that I shall neuer find; and therewithall sought for some house wherein he might hide himselfe from them. But by that time he was set to supper, dames a [...]rue of courtlike dames richly attired, and with wanton eyes and pleasant spéech they boldly sate downe by him; and perceiuing him to be a stranger, they were not strange to allure him to their delight: Wherefore while hesateat meate, they yéelded him such mirth as their best skill could affoord; and stretching their nimble fingers, playing on their swéet sounding instruments, they sung this ensuing song, with such cleare and quauering voices, as had béen sufficient to allure chast­hearte [...] Xenocrates vnto folly: and still as they did sing, sir Hugh an­swered in the last liue, insomuch as it séemed to be a dialogue betwéen them; and in this manner following the women began their song.

The Curtizans song of Uenice.

Ladies.
VVElcome to Uenice, gentle courteous Knight,
Cast off fond care, and entertaine content.
If any here be gracious in thy sight,
Doe but request and she shall soone consent:
Loues wings are swift, then be not thou so slow,
Hugh.

Oh that faire Winifred would once say so.

Ladies.
With in my lap lye downe thy comely head,
And let me stroke those golden locks of thine,
Looke on the teares that for thy sake I shed,
And be thou Lord of any thing is mine,
One gentle looke vpon thy loue bestow.
Hugh.

Oh that faire Winifred would once say so.

Ladies.
Embrace with ioy thy Lady in thine armes,
And with all pleasures passe to thy delight:
If thou doest thinke the light will worke our harmes,
Come, come to bed, and welcome all the night,
There shalt thou find, what louers ought to know.
Hugh.

Oh that faire Winifred would once say so.

Ladies.
Giue me those pearles as pledges of thy loue,
Add with those pearles the fauour of thy heart:
Doe not from me thy [...]ugred breath remoue,
That double comfort giues to euery part.
Nay stay sir Knight, from hence thou shalt not goe.
Hugh.

Oh that faire Winifred would once say so.

When sir Hugh had heard this Song, and therewithall noted their wanton gestures, he began to grow suspitious of their profers, & think­ing in himselfe, that either they thought his destruction, as the Sirens did to Ulysses; or that they intended to make a prey of his purse, as Lais did of h [...]riouers: and therefore supposing some adder to lie lurking vn­der the fairest [...]wres of their proffered pleasures, he determined the next morning after (with spéed) to depart from the City. So when he had with good discretion auoided their company, while hee lay [...]ormented with restlesse thoughts on his stil tossed bed, began thus to meditate.

Now I well sée mine own vanity, that is as ill pleased with womens fauours as their frownes; how often haue I with heart sighing sorrow complained of womens vnkindnesse, making large inuectiues against their discourtesies? and yet here where I find women as kind as they are faire, & courteous as they are comely, I run into a world of doubts, & so suspitious of their faire profers, as I was earnest to win Winifreds fauour: it may be (quoth he) that it is the nature of this gentle soyle to bréed as kind creatures, as the Country of Brittaine bréeds c [...]y dames.

[Page]Undoubtedly, had my loue first taken life in this kind and curteous Climate, shée would haue béene as kind as they. If I mis-iudge not of their gentlenesse, because I haue alwayes béen inured to scornfulnesse; me thinkes they are too faire to be harlots, and too bold to bee honest, but as they haue no cause to hate me that neuer hurt them, so haue they little cause to loue me, being a far stranger borne, to them a man alto­gether vnknowne.

But it may be that this time of the yeare is onely vnfortunate for loners; as it is certainly known to al men that euery season of the yeare br [...]ds a sundry commodity, for Roses flourish in Iune, & Gilliflowers in August, and neither of them both doe so in the cold winter. Such as seeke for fruit on the saplesse trées in the month of Ianuary, lose their la­bors as well as their longing: then why should I couet to gather fruits of loue, when I sée that loue is not yet ripe? Now let me obserue the season that yéelds the swéetest comfort to loue sicke persons, and so I may reape the ioyfull fruits of hearts content: I will therefore returne to my former loue, hoping now to find her as freindly, as at my depar­ture she was froward; I will once againe intreat her, and speake her ex­céeding faire; for with many drops the hardest stone is pierced, so also with many importunate intreaties a [...]inty hart may be moued to some remorse. I take no pleasure at al in any place, but only in her presence with the which she continually graceth a running streame; farre be it from her mind, to kisse her owne shadow in the chryst all spring, & to be in loue with her own similitude, for so she might be spoiled as Narcissus was: for it is commonly séene, that sudden danger followes fond opini­ons: so with this and the like thoughts he dro [...]e out the night, till the Suns bright eye began to péepe at his chamber window, at what time dressing himself he went to the water side, where he found a ship ready to transport rich merchandise into the Westerne Ilands in the which [...]ir Hugh became a passenger. But when they were put off to sea, there arose so sudden a storme, and of long continuance, that no man looked for life but expected euery moment present death, so that the Mariners quite forsooke the tackle, and the Master the helme, committing them­selues to God, and their ship to the mercy of the swelling [...]eas, by whose [...]urious waues they were somtime tossed vp towards heauen, anon throwne downe to the deepe of hell: in which extremity sir Hugh made this lamentation: O vnhappy man, how eagerly doth mischance pur­sue me at my h [...]les for betwixt my loue on the land, and danger of life [...] the sea, it hath made me the wretchedst man breathing on earth.

[Page]Here we may sée that miseries haue power ouer men, and not men ouer miseries. Now must I die farre from my friends, and be dren­thed in the déepe, where my body must feed the fishes that swim in the rich bottome of the Sea. Therefore faire Winifred, the chiefe ground of my grie [...]es, here will I sacrifice my last teares vnto thee, and powre forth my complaints.

Oh how happy should I count my selfe, if those fishes which shall liue on my bodies food, might be meate for my Loue! it grieueth mée much to thinke that my poore bléeding heart, wherein thy picture is in­grauen, should be rent in péeces in such greedy sort; but thrice accur­sed be that fish, that first setteth his nimble f [...]th thereon, except hée swimme there with vnto my Loue, and so deliuer it as a present token from me.

Had my troubled starres allotted me to leaue my life in the pleasant valley of Sichnant, then no doubt but my Loue with her faire hands would haue closed vp my dying eyes, and perhaps would haue rung a peale of sorrowfull sighes for my sake.

By this time was the weather▪beaten Barke driuen vpon the shore of Sicilie, where the men had safety of their liues, although with losse of their ships, and spoyle of their goods: but they had no sooner shaken off their dropping wet garments on the shore, but that they were as­saulted by a sort of monstrous men that had but one eye a piece, and that placed in the midst of their foreheads, with whom the tempest heaten souldiers had a fierce fight, in which many of them were slaine, and diuers of them fled away to saue themselues; so that in the end sir Hugh was left alone to Fortune in a double Fray: and hauing at last quite ouercome all his aduersaries, he went his way, and so passing vp the country in darke night, in the end he lost his way, and was so farre entred into the darke wildernesse, that hee could not deuise with himselfe which way ha should take to get out, where he was so cruelly affrighted with the dreadfull cry of fierce Lyons, Beares, and wilde Bulls, and many thousand more of other dangerous & cruell rauenous beasts, which with gréedy mouthes ranged all about for their prey: in which distresse, sir Hugh got him vp to the top of a trée, and being there, brake out into this passion.

O Lord (quoth he) hast thou preserued me from the great perill and danger of the Sea, & deliuered me out of the cruell hands of monstrous men, and now suffer me to be deuoured of wild beasts? Alas, that my soule sins should bring so many sundry sorrowes on my head.

[Page]But for all this may I thanke vnkind Winifred, whose disdaine hath wrought my destruction. Woe worth the time that euer my eyes beheld her be witching beauty. But hereby we may sée that the path is smooth that leadeth to danger. But why blame I the blamelesse Lady? Alas, full little did she know of my desperate courses in trauell. But such is the fury that hants franticke Louers, that neuer feare dan­ger vntill it fall, and light vpon their owne heads.

But by that time that the day began to appeare he perceiued an huge Elephant with stiffe ioynts stalking towards him, and presently after came a f [...]ery tongue Dragon, which suddenly assaulted the peacefull Elephant, in whose subtile encounter the wrathfull Dragon with his long wringing taile did so shackle the hinder féet of the Elephant to­gether, that like a prisoner fast fettered in irons, he could not stirre a [...]oot for his life; what time the furious Dragon neuer left till hée had thrust his stender head into the Elephants long h [...]ked nose, out of which he neuer once drew it, vntill by sucking the Elephants blood, he had made him so féeble and so weake, that he could stand no longer vp­on his féet; at which time the fainting Elephant with a grieuous cry, fell downe dead vpon the Dragon: so with the fall of his weighty bo­dy, burst the Dragon in péeces, and so killed him; whereby their bloods being mingled together, it stained all the ground where they both lay, changing the gréene grasse into a rich scarlet colour.

This strange sight betwixt these two beasts, caused good sir Hugh to iudge that nature had planted bewixt them a deadly hatred, the fire whereof could not be quenched, but by shedding of both their hearts blood. Now when sir Hugh saw that grim Death had ended their quarrell, and perceiuing no danger néere, he came downe from the tree, and sought to find out some inhabited towne, but being intan­gled in the woods, like the Centaure in his Labyri [...]th, he could by no meanes get out, but wandred in vnknowne passages, leading him to many perils.

At last another Elephant met him, who according to his kinde na­ture neuer left him till he had conducted him out of all danger, and brought him out of the Wildernesse into the way againe; whereby sir Hugh at the length came in sight of a Port-towne, where in foure dayes after hee imbarked himselfe in a ship bound for Brittaine, and at last obtained the sight of his natiue Country, where hée arriued in safety, though in very poore sort, comming on shoare at a place cal­led Harwich, where for want of money he greatly lamented, and made [Page] much [...]oane. But méeting with a merry Iourney-man Shoomaker dwelling in that towne, and after some conference had together, they both agreed to trauell in the Country, where we will leaue them, and speake of Winifred, and of her great troubles and calamities.

CHAP. II.

How faire Winifred was imprisoned, and condemned to dye for her Religion: and how sir Hugh became a Shoomaker, and afterward came to suffer death with his Love: shewing also how the Shoomakers tooles came to be called Saint Hughes bones, and the trade of Shooma­king, The Gentle Craft.

A Non after that the Doctrine of Christ was made knowne in Brittaine, and that the worship of heathen Idols was forbidden, yet many troubles did the Christians endure by diuers the outragi­ous blood-shirstinesse of woluish Tyrants, that by the way of inua­ [...]ion set f [...]ting in this Land, as it fell out in the dayes of Dioclesian, that with bloudy mindes persecuted such as would not yéeld to the Pagan law: amongst which the Uirgin Winifred was one, who for that shée continued constant in faith, was long imprisoned. During which time Sir Hugh wrought in a Shoomakers shop, hauing learned that trade through the coueteous directions of a kind Iourney-man, where he remained the space of one whole yeere, in which time h [...] had gotten himselfe good appatell, and euery thing comely and decent. Not withstanding though hée were now contented to forget his birth, yet could hée not forget the beauty of his Loue, who although she had vtterly forsaken him, yet could he not alter his affection from her, because indéed affections alter not like a palefaced coward. The wildest Bull (quoth he) is tamed being tied to a F [...]g-trée; and the [...]oyest Dame (in time) may yéeld like the stone Charchaedo [...]s, which sparkles like fire, and yet m [...]lts at the touch of soft war. Though Roses haue prickles, yet they are gathered; and though women séeme froward, yet will they shew themselues kinde and friendly. Neither is there any ware so hard, but by often tempering, is made apt to receiue an impression: Admit she hath heretofore b [...] n [...] cruell, yet now may she be courteous. A true hearted Louer forgets all tres­passes, and a smile cureth the wounding of a frowne Thus after the manner of [...]ond Louers he flattered himselfe in his owne folly [...], [Page] and in the praise of his faire Lady, hée sung this pleasant Ditty her [...] following.

THe pride of Brittaine is my hearts delight,
My Lady liues, my true loue to requite:
And in her life I liue that else were dead,
Like withered Leanes in time of winter shead.
She is the ioy and comfort of my mind
She is the Sunne that clearest sight doth blind;
The fairest flower that in the world doth grow,
Whose whitenes doth surpasse the driuen snow.
Her gentle words more sweete then hony are,
Her eyes for clearnes dimmes the brightest star.
O were her heart so kind as she is faire,
No lady might with my true love compare.
A thousand greifes for her I haue sustained,
While her proud thoughts my humble sute disdained,
And though she would my hart with torments kill,
Yet would I honour, serue, and loue her still.
Blest be the place where she doth like to live:
Blest be the light that doth her comfort give:
And blessed be all creatures farre and neare,
That yeeld reliefe unto my Lady deare.
Neuer may sorrow enter where she is,
Neuer may she contented comfort misse,
Neuer may she my proffered loue for sake,
But my good will in thankfull sort to take.

Thus feeding his fancy with the swéet remembrance of her beauty, being neuer satisfied with thinking, and speaking in her praise, at length he resolued himselfe to goe into Flint-shire, where he might sollicite his suite anew agains: but comming néere to the place of her residence; and hearing report of her troubles, he so highly commended her faith and constancy, that at length he was clapt vp in prison by her, and in the end he was condemned to receiue equall torment, for a triall of his owne truth.

But during the time that they lay both in prison, the Iourney▪ men Shoomakers neuer left him, but yéelded him great reliefe continually, so that hee wanted nothing that was necessary for him; in requitall [Page] of which kindnesse he called them Gentlemen of the Gentle Craft a [...] a few dayes before his death, he made this Song in their d [...]e commen­dations.

OF Craft and Crafts-men more and lesse,
The Gentle Craft I must commend:
Whose deeds declare their faithfulnesse,
And hearty loue unto their freind:
The Gentle Craft in midst of strife,
Yeelds comfort to a carefull life.
A Prince by Birth I am indeed,
The which for Love forsooke this Land:
And when I was in extreme need,
I tooke the Gentle Craft in hand,
And by the Gentle Craft alone,
Long time I liu'd, being still unknowne,
Spending my dayes in sweet content,
With many a pleasant sugred Song:
Sitting in pleasures complement,
Whilst we recorded Louers wrong:
And while the Gentle Craft we us'd,
True Love by vs was not abus'd.
Our shooes we sowed with merry notes,
And by our mirth expell'd all mone:
Like Nightingales, from whose sweet throats.
Most pleasant tunes are nightly blowne;
The Gentle Craft is fittest then,
For poore distressed Gentlemen▪
Their minds doe mount in courtesie,
And they disdaine a niggards feast:
Their bodies are for Chivalrie,
All cowardnesse they doe detest.
For Sword and Sheild, for Bow and Shaft,
No man can staine the Gentle Craft.
Yea sundry Princes sore distrest,
Shall seeke for succour by this Trade:
Whereby their greifes shall be redrest,
Of foes they shall not be afraid.
[Page]And many men of fame likewise,
Shall from the Gentle Craft arise.
If we want money ouer night,
Ere next day noone, God will it send,
Thus may we keepe our selves upright,
And be no churle vnto our freind:
Thus doe we live where pleasure springs,
In our conceit like petty Kings.
Our hearts with care we may not kill,
Mans life surpasseth worldly wealth,
Content surpasseth riches still,
And fie one knaves that live by stealth:
This Trade therefore both great and small,
The Gentle Craft shall ever call.

When the Iourney-men Shoomakers had heard this Song, and the faire Title that Sir Hugh had giuen their Trade, they ingraued the same so déepely in their minds, that to this day it could neuer be razed out: like a remembrance in a [...]arbiest [...]ne which continueth time out of mind.

But not long after came that dolefull day, wherein these two Lo­uers must loose their liues, who like two méeke Lambes were led to the slaughter: the bloody performance thereof was to bée done hard by that faire Fountaine, where the Loue despising Lady made her most abode: and because she was a Kings daughter, the bloody Ty­rant gaue her the priuiledge to chuse her owne death: to the which she passed with as good a countenance, as if she had béen a faire yong Bride prepared for marriage.

(viz.) When they were come to the place of execution, and moun­ted vpon the S [...]affo [...]d, they séemed for beauty like two bright Stars, Castor and Pollux, there they e [...]braced each other with such chaste desires, as all those that beheld them, admired to see how stedfast and [...]rme both these Louers were, ready in hearts and minds to heauen it selfe.

At what time the Lady turned herselfe to Sir Hugh, and spake to this effect: Now doe I find thee a perfect Louer indéed, that hauing setled thy affection aboue the Skies, art ready to yéeld thy life for thy Loue, who in requitall thereof, will giue thee life for euer.

The Loue of earthly creatures is mixed with many miseries, and in­terlaced [Page] with sundry sorrowes; and here griefe shall abate the plea­sures of Loue, but [...]e well assured that [...]y shall follow the same.

Thou didst wooe me for loue, and now haue I wonne thee to loue▪ where setling both our loues vpon God his loue, we will loue one an­other; and in token of that heauenly loue receiue of mée I pray thee a chaste and louing kisse from my dying lips.

Faire Winifred (quoth he) it is true indéed; I neuer loued truly, vn­till thou tàughtest me to loue, for then my loue was full of discontent: but now altogether pleasing, and more swéet is the thought thereof than any tongue can expresse.

The thing that I euer before called Loue, was but a shadow of loue, a swéetnesse tempered with gall, a dying life, and a liuing death, where the heart was continually tossed vpon the Seas of tempestuous sor­rowes, and wherein the minde had no calme quietnesse: and there­fore blessed be the time that I euer learned this Loue. With that hée was interrupted by the Tyrant, who sayd, You are not come [...]therto talke, but to dye; and I haue sworne you both shall dye at this in­stant. Thou Tyrant (sayd Sir Hugh) the very like sentence is pro­nounced against thy selfe; for Nature hath doomed that thou sh [...]lt die likewise, and albeit the execution thereof be something deferred, yet at length it will come, and that shortly, for neuer did Tyrant carry gray haires to the graue.

The young Lady desired first to dye, saying to Sir Hugh, Come deare friend and learne magnanimity of a Maid: now shalt thou sée a silly woman scorne death at his téeth, and make as small ac­count of his cruelty, as the Tyrant doth of our liues, and there with­all script vp her silken sléeues, and committed her slablaster armes in­to the executioners foule hands, hauing made choice to dye in bléeding: at what time being prickee in euery veine, the scarlet blood sprung out in plentifull sort, much like a precious fountaine lately filled with Claret wine.

And while she thusbled, she said, Here doe I sacrifice my blood to him that bought mée, who by his blood washt away all my sinnes, O my swéet Sauiour, thus were thy sides pierced for my transgressi­ons, and in this sort sprung thy precious blood from thee, and all for the loue thou barest to mankinde: I féels my heart to saint, but my soule receiueth strength, I come swéet Christ, I come. And there­withall her body [...]ai [...]ting, and the blood failing, like a Conduit sud­denly drawne dry, the young Princesse fell downe dead, at what [Page] time a pale colour ouer-spread her faire face in such comely sort, as if a heape of Roses had béen shadowed with a shéet of pure Lawne.

But it is to bee remembred, that all the while the young Prin­sesse bled, her blood was receiued into certaine basons, which being in that sort saued together, the Tyrant caused to be tempered with [...]oyson, and prepared it to bee the last drinke that Sir Hugh should haue, saying; That by her loue whom he so dearely loued, hée should receiue his death. And thereupon incontinently, without any fur­ther delaying of time, hée caused a cup of that most deadly poysoned blood to bee deliuered into his hands, who with a louely and cheare­full countenance receiued the same, and then vttered his minde in this manner.

O thou cruell Tyrant (quoth hée) what a poore spite is this to inflict vpon a dying man, that is as carelesse how he dies, as when he dies? Easie it is for thee to glut me with blood, although with blood thou art not satisfied. Swéet blood (quoth he) precious & pure, how faire a colour dost thou cast before mine eyes? Swéet I say wast thou, before such time as this ill sauoring poyson did infect thee: and yet as thou art, I nothing despise thee. O my deare Winifred, full little did I thinke, that ouer I should come to drinke of thy heart blood.

My gréedy eye that glutton-like did féede vpon thy beauty, and yet like the Sea was neuer satisfied, is now with thy gore bloud fully gorged. Now may I quench my thirstie desire with loue, that like hot burning coales set my heart in such an extreme heate, that it could not be quenched before this time; For if faire Winifred could spare any loue from Heauen, assuredly she left it in her blood, her swéet heart blood I meane, that nourished her chaste life: sée, here is a Ca [...] ­dl [...] to coole my vaine affections. Farre bée it that my true Louer should euer taste the like.

But this punishment haue the iust heauens poured vpon me, for the preferring the loue of an earthly creature before the loue of an hea­uenly Creator; Pardon, O Lord, the [...]oule sinnes of superstitious Lo­uers, that while they make Idols of their Ladies, they forget the ho­nour of thy diuine Maiesty. Yet doth it doe my heart much good to thinke that I must bury swéet Winifreds blood in my body, whose loue was lodged long agoe in my heart: and there withall, drinking the first draught, he said, O Lord, me séemeth this potion hath a comfor­table taste, farre doth it surpasse that Nect [...]r wherewith the gods were nourished.

[Page]Well (said the Tyrant) séeing it pleaseth thee so well, thou shalt haue more, and therewith another cup of the same blood was giuen him to drinke.

Yes come (quoth he) my thirst is not quenched; for the first draught gaue me but a taste of swéetnesse, and like a longing woman, I desire the rest; and with that he dranke the second draught. The third being deliuered him, he tooke the cup into his hand, and looking about, he sayd: Loe here, I drinke to all the kind Yeomen of the Gentle Craft.

I drinke to you all (quoth he) but I cannot spare you one drop to pledge me. Had I any good thing to giue, you should sóone receiue it: but my selfe the Tyrant doth take, and my flesh is bequeathed to the Fowles, so that nothing is left but onely my bones to pleasure you withall; and those, if they will doe you any good, take them: and so I humbly take my leaue, bidding you all farewell. There with the last draught he finished his life, whose dead carkasse after hanged vp where the Fowles deuoured his flesh, and the young Princesse was contemp­tuously buried by the Well where she had so long liued. Then had he the title of Saint Hugh giuen him, and she of Saint Winifred, by which termes they are both so called to this day.

CHAP. IV▪

How the Shoomakers stole away Saint Hughes bones, and made them working tooles thereof, and the vertue that they found in the same: whereby it came, that when any man saw a Shoomaker tra­velling with a packe at his backe: they would presently say: There goes Saint Hughes bones.

VPon a time it chanced, that a company of Iourney-men Shooma­kers passed along by the place where Saint Hughes dead body was hanging, and finding the flesh pickt cleane off from the bones, they entred thus into communication among themselues.

Neuer was Saint Hugh so bare (quoth one) to carry neuer a whit of skin vpon his bones; nor thou neuer so bare (said another) to beare ne­uer a penny in thy purse.

But now séeing you talke of Saint Hugh, it brings mée to remem­brance of his Legacy that he gaue vs at his death: What was that said the rest? Marry (quoth he) I will tell you, When the gentle Prince saw that the cruelty of the time would not suffer him to be libe­rall [Page] to his friends, but that his life was taken away by one, and his [...]leth giuen to others, he most kindly bequeathed his bones vnto vs.

Tush (quoth another) that was but to shew his minde towards the Shoomakers, because he had receiued of them so many fauours: for alas, what can the dead mans bones pleasure the liuing? No? (quoth another) I can tell you there may be as great vertue found in his bones, as the braines of a Weasill, or the tongue of a Frog: Much like (answered the rest) but I pray thee shew vs what vertue is in those things you speake of. Quoth he, I will tell you; The braines of a Weasill hath this power, experientia docet, that if the powder thereof being mingled with the [...]unnet, wherewith women make their Chéefe, no mouse dares euer touch it: In like manner, the tongue of a water frog hath such great force in it, that if it be layd vpon the breast of any one sléeping, it will cause them tell whatsoeuer you shall demand; for by that meanes Dicke Piper knew bée was a Cuckold. Againe, I know that those that are trauellers are not ignorant, that whosoeuer puts b [...]t s [...]r [...] leaues of Mugwor [...] in his shooes, shall uere be wearie, though he trauell thirty or forty miles on foot in a forenoone. That indéed may be true, quoth one, for by the very same hearbe my last Dame kept her Ale from so wring: and it i [...] said, that where house­léeke is planted, the place shall neuer be hurt with thunder. Pimper­ [...]ell is good against Witchcraft; and because my sister Joane carried alwayes some about her, Mother Bumby could not abide her: There­fore what vertue a dead mans bones may haue, we know not till we haue tried it.

Why then sayd the third man, let vs soone at night steale Saint Hughes bones away, and albeit the Tyrant will bée displeased, yet it is no theft, for you say they were giuen vs, and therefore wee may the bolder take them, and because wée will turne them to profit, and anoyd suspition, wee will make diuers of out Tooles with them, and then if any vertue doe follow them, the better wée shall finde it.

To this motion euery one gaue his consent, so that the same night Saint Hughes bones were taken downe, and the same being brought before a sort of shoomakers, there they gaue their opinion, That it was necessary to fulfill the will of the dead, and to take those bones in as good a part, as if they were worth ten thousand pounds; whereupon one steps out, and thus did say.

[Page] MY freinds, I pray you lift to me,
And marke what S. Hughs bones shall be.
FIrst a Drawer and a Dresser,
two Wedges, a more & a lesser:
A pretty blocke three inches high,
in fashion sqared like a Die,
Which shall be called by proper name,
a Heele blocke, the very same.
A Hand-leather and a Thumb-leather likewise,
to pull out shoo-threed we must despise;
The Needle and the Thimble,
shal not be left alone
The Pincers and the pricking Aule
and the rubbing Stone.
The Aule steele and Tackes,
the Sow-haires beside,
The Stirrop holding fast,
while we sowe the Cow-hide,
The whetstone, the stopping sticke,
and the Paring knife:
All this doth belong,
to a Journeymans life.
Our Apron is the Shrine,
to wrap these bones in:
Thus shrowd we Saint Hugh
in gentle Lambes skinne.

Now all you good Yeomen of the Gentle Craft, tell me now (quoth he) how like you this?

As well (replyed they) as Saint George doth of his Horse, for as long as we can sée him fight with the Dragon, we will neuer part from this Posie.

And it shall bee concluded that what Iourney-men soeuer hée bée hereafter, that cannot handle the Sword and Buckler, his Long Sword, or a Quarter staffe, sound the Trumpet, or play vpon the Flute and beare his part in a thrée mans Song: and readily reckon vp his tooles in Rime; except he haue borne Colours in the field, being a Lieutenant, a Sergeant or Corporall, shall forfeit▪ and p [...] a pott [...]es [...] wine, or be counted for a colt: to which they answered all viva voc [...] [Page] Content, content, and then after many merry Songs, they departed And neuer after did they trauell without these fooles on their [...]ckes: which euer since were called Saint Hughes bones.

CHAP. V.

How Crispianus and his brother Crispine, the two sons of the King of Logria, through the cruelty of the Tyrant Maximinus, were faine in disguised manner to secke for their lives safety, and how they were en­tertained by a Shoomaker in Feversha [...].

VVhen the Roman Maximinus sought in cruel sort, to berea [...]e this Land of all her noble youth or youth of noble blood, The vertuous Quéene of Logria (which now is called Kent) dwelling in the Citie Durovernum, aliàs Canterbury, or the Court of Kentishmen, hauing at that time two young Sons, sought all the meanes she could possible to kéepe them out of the Tyrants clawe [...]; and in this manner she spake vnto them.

My deare and beloued sonnes, the ioy and comfort of my age, you sée the danger of these times and the stormes of a Tyrants raigne, who ha­uing now gathered together the most part of the young Nobility, to make them slaues in a forraigne Land, that are frée borne in their owne Country, séeketh for you also, thereby to make a cleare riddance of all our borne Princes, to the end he might plant strangers in their stead. Therefore (my swéet sons) take the counsell of your mother, and séeke in time to preuent ensuing danger, which will come vpon vs sudden­ly as a storme at sea, and as cruelly as a Tyger in the wildernesse: ther­fore suiting your selues in honest habites, séeke some poore seruice to sheild you from mischance, séeing necessity hath priuiledged those pla­ces from Tyranny, And so (my sons) the gracious Heauens may one day raiss you to deserued dignity and honour.

The young Lads seeing their mother so earnest to haue them gone, fulfilled her commandement, and casting of [...] their attire, put homelie garments on. and with many bitter teares, took leaue of the Quéene their mother, desiring her before they went, to bestow her blessing vp­on them.

O my son [...] (quoth she) stand you now vpon your ceremonies? had I leasure to giue you one kisse, it were somthing; The Lord blesse you, get you gone, away, away, make hast I say, let not swift time o [...]er [...]ip [Page] you, for the Tyrant is hard by: with that shee pushed them out of a backe doore, and then set herselfe downe to wéepe.

The two young Princes, which like pretty lambes went straying they knew not whether, at length by good fortune, came to Feversham. where before the dayes péepe, they heard certaine Shoomakers sing­ing, being as pleasant as their notes, as they sa [...]e at their businesse, and this was their Song:

VVOuld God that it were Holiday,
hey dery downe downe dery:
That with my love I might goe play,
with woe my heart is weary:
My whole delight is in her sight,
would God I had her company,
her company,
Hey dery downe, downe a downe.
My Love is fine, my Love is faire,
Hey dery downe, downe dory:
No maid with her may well compare,
in Kent or Canterbury;
From me my Love shall never move,
would God I had her company,
her company,
Hey dery downe, downe a downe.
To see her laugh, to see her smile,
hey dery downe, downe dery:
Doth all my sorrowes cleane beguile,
and make my heart full merry;
No griefe doth grow where she doth goe,
would God I had her company, &c.
Hey dery downe, downe a downe.
When I doe meet her on the greene,
hey dery downe, downe dery:
Me thinkes she lookes like beauties Queene,
which makes my heart full merry;
Then I her greet with kisses sweet,
would God I had her company, &c.
Hey dery downe, downe a downe.
[Page]My love comes not of churlish kinde,
hey dery downe downe dery;
But beares a gentle courteous minde,
Which makes my heart full merry,
She is not [...]oy, she is my joy,
would God I had her company, &c.
Hey dery downe downe adowne.
Till Sunday come, farewell my deare,
hey dery downe downe dery.
When we doe meet, weele have good cheare,
and then I will be merry:
If thou love me, I will love thee,
and still delight thy company, thy company,
Hey dery downe downe adowne.

The young Princes perceiuing such mirth to remaine in so homely it cottage, iudged by their pleasant Notes, that their hearts were not cloyed with ouer many cares, and therfore wished it might be their good [...]ap to be harboured in a place of such great content.

But standing a long time in doth [...] what to doe, like two distres­sed strangers, combating twixt hope and feare; at length taking courage, Crispianus knocked at the doore: What knaue knockes there (quoth the Iourney man) and by and by, downe he [...]akes his quar [...]er staffe and opens the doore, [...]being as ready to strike as [...]o [...]ake, saying: What lacke you? To whom Crispianus made this answer: Good sir, pardon our holdnesse, and measure not our truth by our rudenesse; we are two poore boyes that want seruice, stript from our friends by the fury of these warres, and therefore are wée enforced succourlesse to craue [...]eruite in any place. What haue you no friends or acquaintance in these parts to goe to (said the Shoo­makers) by whose meanes you might got preferment? Alas sir (sayd Crispianus) necessity is despised of euery one, and misery is trodden downe of many; but seldome or neuer relieued: yet notwithstan­ding, if our hope did not yéeld vs some comfort of [...] happe, wée should grow desperate through distresse. That were [...]at pitty (said the Shoomaker) be content for as our Dame often [...]els our Master. A patient man is better than a strong man. Stay a while and I will call our Dame to the doore, and then you shall heare what [...]hée will say. With that he went in, and forth came his Dame, who be holding the sayd youths, sayd: Now alas, poore boyes, how comes [Page] it to passe that you are out of seruice? What, would you be Shoo­makers, and bearne the Gentle Craft? Yes forsooth (said they) with all our hearts. Now by my [...]roth (quoth she) you doe looke with ho­nest true faces. I will entreat my husband for you, for wée would gladly haue good boyes; and if you will be iust and true, and serue God, no doubt you may doe well enough: Come in my lads, come in. Crispianus and his brother, with great reuerence gaue her thankes; and by that time they had stayed a little while, downe came the good man, and his wife hard by his héeles, saying: Sée husband, these bée the youths I told you of, no doubt but in time they will be good men.

Her husband looking wishtly vpon them, and conceiuing a good opi­nion of their fauours, at length agréed that they should dwell with him, so that they would be bound for seuen yéeres. The youths being contented, the bargaine was soone ended, and so set to their businesse; where at they were no sooner setled, but that great search was made for them in all places; and albeit the officers came to the house where they dwelt, by the reason of their disguise they knew them not: ha­uing also taken vpon them borrowed names of Crispianus and Cris­pine. Within a few dayes after, the Quéene their mother was by the Tyrant taken, and for that she would not confesse where her Sonnes were, shee was layd in prison in Colchester Castle: whereunto shee went with as chearefull a countenance, as Cateratus did, when hée was led captine to Rome: and comming by the place where her son tes sate at worke, with a quicke eye she had seene espied them, and looke how a dying coale reu [...]ues in the wind, e [...]en so at this sight she became suddenly red: but making signes that they should hold their tongues, she was led along: whom seuen yéeres after her Sons did neuer sée. But as men stand amazed at the sight of Apparitions in the aire, as ignorant what successe shall follow, euen so were these two Princes agast to sée their owne mother thus led away, not knowing what danger would ensue thereof.

Notwithstanding, they thought good to kéepe their seruice as their liues surest refuge: at what time they both bent their whole mindes to please their Master and Dame, refusing nothing that was put to them to doe, were it so wash dishes, scoure Bettles, or any other thing, whereby they thought their Dames fauour might bée gotten, which made her the readier to giue them a good report to their Ma­ster, and to doe them many other seruices, which otherwise they [Page] should haue missed; following therein the admon [...]tion of an old Iour­ney-man, who would alwayes say to the Apprentices:

Howsoever things doe frame,
Please well thy Master, But chiefly thy Dame.

Now by that time, these two young Princes had truely serued their Master the s [...]ace of foure or fiue yéeres, he was growne something wealthy, and they very cunning in their trade; whereby the house had the n [...]me [...]o bréed the best workemen in the Country; which report in the end prefer'd their Master to be the Emperours Shoomaker: and by this meanes, his seruants went to Maximinus Court euery day: but Crispianus and Crispine fearing they should haue béene knowne, kept themselues from thence, as much as they could. Notwithstand­ing, at the last perswading themselues, that Time had worne them out of knowledge, they were willing in the end to goe thither, as well to heare tidings of the Queene their Mother, as also for to séeke their owne preferment.

CHAP. VI.

How the Emperours faire daughter Ursula, fell in love with young Crispine, comming with Shooes to the Court; and how in the end they were secretly married by a blmd [...]rier.

NOw among all the Shoomakers men that came to the Court with shooes, young Crispine was had in greatest regard with the faire Princesse, whose Mother being lately dead, shee was the onely [...]oy of her Father, who alwayes sought meanes to match her with some worthy Romane, whose renowne might ring throughout the whole world.

But faire Vrsula, whose bright eyes had entangled her heart with desire of the Shoomakers fauour, despised all proffers of Loue, in re­ [...]ard of him. And yet notwithstanding shée would off checke her owne opinion, in placing her loue vpon a person of such low degr [...], thus reasoning with herselfe.

Most aptly is the god of Loue by [...]unning Painters drawne blind, that [...]o equally shoots forth his [...]ery shafts: for had hée eyes to sée, it were vnpossible to deale in such sort, as in matching faire Ven [...]rs with soule Vulcan, yoaking the Emperiall hearts of Kings to the loue of beggars▪ as he did to Cofetua, and as now in my selfe I finde how mad a thing it would séeme to the eyes of the world, that an Em­ [...]erors daughter should delight in the fauour of a simple Shoomaker.

[Page]O Vrsula take héed what th [...] [...]t, staine not thy royal [...]y with such indignity. O that Crispines birth were agr [...]able to his person! for in mine eye, there is no Prince in the world comparable to him: if then while he is clothed in these rags of seruitude, he appeare so ex­cellent, what would he be, were hée in Princely attire. O Crispine, either thou art not as thou séemest, or else Nature, in disgrace of Kings, hath made tho [...] a Shoomaker.

In these humours would the Princesse be often, especially at Cris­pines approach, or at his departure: For, as soone as euer hée came within her sight with shooes, a sudden blush like a flame of lightning would strike in her face, and at his departure an earthly pale colour, [...]e to the beames of the bright [...]un obscured by coale blacke clouds. But after many weary conflicts with Fancy, shée fully resolued, at his next comming, to enter into communication with him, but ima [...]ining his stay from Court ouer long, on the sudden she sent pre­ [...]ently for him, finding great fault in the last shooes hée brought her. At which time Crispine most humbly on his knée greatly craued par­don for all such faults as she then had found, promising amendment in the next shooes she should haue.

Nay (quoth she) Ile shew thee, they are too low something in the instep; also the héele is bad, and besides that, they are too strait in the [...]oes. You shall haue a pai [...]e made (said he) shall [...]it you better, [...]or none shall set a stitch in them but mine owne selfe. Doe, sayd the Princesse, but let me haue them to soone as thou can [...], and there with Crispine departed.

The Princesse then all solitary, got her selfe into her Chamber, entred there into consideration, and found within her selfe great trouble and sorrow, while the tongue, the hearts aduorate was not suffered to speake. At last [...]he heard Crispines voyce, enquiring of the Ladies in the great Chamber for the Princesse, who answered, That hauing taken little rest the night before, shee was now layd downe to sléepe, and therefore they willed him to come againe some other time. Asléepe, replied the Princesse! I am not a sléepe, bid him stay: what hasty huswife was that which sent him he [...]ce? Call him againe quickly I would aduise you▪ And therewith all chan­ging melancholy into mirth, shee arose vp from out of her bed, and as a bright [...]tarre shooting in the [...]lemen she swiftly got her [...]th tp méet the Shoomaker, whose faire sight was to her as great a co [...] ­for [...] [Page] as a Sun-shine before a sh [...]w [...] of raine▪ How now (quoth shée) [...]ast thou brought me a paire of shooes? I haue (gracious Madam, quoth he.) Then (quoth the Princesse) come thy selfe and draw them on▪ there with shée sitting downe lifted vp ha [...] well proportioned l [...]g vpon his gentle knée. Where, by that time her shooes were dra [...]ne on, she had prepared a good reward for her shoomaker, and gi­uing him a handfull of gold, [...]he said: Thou [...]ast so well pleased mée in making of these shooes, that I cannot but reward thee in some good sort, therefore shoomaker, take this, and from henceforth let no man make my shooes but thy selfe. But tell me Crispine, art thou not in loue, that thou dost sm [...]g vp thy selfe so finely, thou wast not wont to goe so neatly: I pray thee tell me what pretty wench is it that is mistresse of thy heart? Truely, faire Madam (quoth he) If I should not loue, I might be accounted barbarous, for by natures cours [...] there is a mutuall loue in all things: the Doue and the Peacocke lo [...]e in­tir [...]l [...], so doth the Turtle and the Popiniay: she like affection the fish Musculus [...]eareth vnto the huge Whale, insomuch that [...] lea­deth him from all danger of stony rocks: and as among birds and fishes, so amongst plants and trées the like concord is to be found, for if the male of palme trées be planted from the female, neither of both pros­per: and being set one neare another, they doe flourish accordingly, im­bracing with ioy the branches one of another. And for mine owne part, I am in loue too: for first of all, I loue my Make [...] and next, my good Master and Dame: But as concerning the loue of pretty wen­ches, verily Madam, I am cleare: and the rather doe I abstaine from firing my [...]ancy on women, séeing many sorrowes do follow the married sort, for a dram of delight hath a pound of paine.

That is (answered the Princesse) where Contention setteth the house on fire, but where true Loue remaines, there is no discontent: and what can a man more desire for this worlds comfort, but a ver­tuous wife, which is reported to be a treasure inestimable. There­fore Crispine, say thy minde, if I preferre thée to a wife, euery way deseruing thy loue, wouldest thou take it well.

Truely Madam, (sayd Crispine) if I should not accept of your good will, I should shew my selfe more vnmannerly than well nur­tured: But séeing it pleaseth you to grace me with your Princely countenance, and to giue me liberty to speake my minde, this is my opinion: If I were worthy to choose a wife, then would I haue one [...]aire, rich, and wise; first, to delight m [...]e eye: secondly, to supply [Page] my want: and thirdly, to gouerne my house.

Then (said the Princesse) her beauty I will referre vnto the [...]udge­ment of thine owne eyes, and her wisedome vnto the triall of Time: but as concerning her portion, I [...]e make some report, because it well deserueth to be praised: For at her marriage thou shalt haue [...] [...]ag full of rare vertues with her. Truely Madam (quoth Crispine) such coynes goe not currant among Tanners: and I know, if I should goe wit [...] it to the Mar [...]et, it would buy me no soale leather. Notwith­standing, when I do [...] sée her, I will tell you more of my mind.

The Princesse taking him asi [...]e priuately, walking with him in a faire Gallery, sayd; In looking vpon me, thou mayest [...]udge of her, for she is as like me as may be. When Crispine heard her say so, hée right prudently answered: I had rather Madam she were your owne selfe, than it [...]e yourselfe: and although my words sauour of presump­tion, yet with your fauour I dare boldly pronounce it, that I hold my selfe worthy of a Quéene, if I could get her good will. And were [...] no danger to match with your Excellency, so it should please you, it should not dislike me.

Then said the Princesse, Now Shoomaker I sée thou hast some courage in thee: and doubt thou not but if I were of that minde, but I would bée as ready to guide the [...] from the dangerous rockes of my Fathers wrath, as the fish called Musculus is for the Whale: But, couldest thou not be contented to dye for a Ladies loue? no Madam, ( [...]oth he) if I could kéepe her loue, and liue.

Then liue faire friend (answered she) enioy my Loue, for I will dye rather than liue without thee. Crispine hearing this, was stricken into, an ex [...]asie of io [...], in such sort, as he wi [...] not whether he were asléepe or dreamed: But by that time hée had summoned his wit [...] together, with [...]he plighting of his faith, he o [...]ened his estate and high birth vnto her, shewing all the extremities that he and his brother had béen put vnto since the death of their royall Father, and of the imprison­ment of the Quéene their Mother.

The which when faire Vrsula with great wonder heard, giuin [...] him an earnest of her loue with a sw [...]t kisse: she sayd; My deare Loue, and most gentle Prince, euer did I thinke, that more than a common man was throwded in these poore habiliments, which made me the bolder to impart my minde vnto thee, and now dread no more my Fa­thers wrath, for the [...]re thereof was lon [...] a [...]oe quenched.

No, no, (quoth Crispine) an Eagles thirst is neuer expelled, but▪ [Page] by blood. And albeit your father haue now (perhaps) qualified the hea [...] of his [...]ury by the length of time, yet if be should vnderstand of this my loue to thee, it would cause him to take out of the ashes, hot burning coales of displeasure againe: and then might my life pay a deare price for thy loue.

Therefore (my deare Vrsula) I desire thee, euen by the power of that loue thou bearest to me, to kéepe secret what I haue the wet thee, nothing doubting but that in time, I may finde release of these mise­ries; in the meane space wee will be secretly married, by which holy knot, wée as well in body▪ as in heart, he vnseparately tyed to­gether.

To this Vrsula consented most gladly, and thereupon told him that she would méet him in her Fathers Parke, at any houre he would ap­point; which she might doe the more easily, in respect she had a key to one of the garden doores, which gaue present passage into the Parke▪ The day and houre being concluded vpon, they parted for this time▪ both of them indued with such content, as in all their liues they neuer found the like.

And at this time there was in Canterbury a blinde Frier that in ma­ny yéeres had neuer seen the Sun, to this man did Crispine goe, think­ing him the fittest Chapplaine to [...]hop vp such a marriage, who méet­ing with him at Christ church one euening after the Antheme, broke with him after this manner.

God spéed good father: there is a certaine friend of mine that would be secretly married in the morning bet [...]mes; for which purpose hée thinkes you the fittest man to performe it in all the Cleyster: and therefore, if you will be diligent to doe it, and secret to conceale it, you shall haue foure angels for your paines.

The Frier being fired with the desire of his gold, rubbing his elbow and scratching his crowne, swore by the blessed [...]ooke that hung by his knée, that hée would be both willing and constant to kéepe it secret. Tush young man, you may trust mee, I haue done many of these feates in my dayes; I know that youth are youth, but they would not haue all the world wonder at their doings: and where shall it be, sayd the Frier? quoth Crispine, at Saint Gregories Chap­pell, and because you shall not make your boy acquainted therewith. I my selfe will call you in the morning. Good father be not forget­full to obserue the time, at two of the clocke is the houre, and there­fore looke you be ready when I shall call you. I warrant you (re­plied [Page] the Frier:) and because I will not ouersléepe my selfe, I will for this nightlye in my clothes, so that as soone as euer you call, I will straight be ready. Then father I will trust you (quoth Crispine) and so departed.

When he came to his Master, he made not many words, but so soone as he had supt on Sunday at night, he went to his Chamber, and layd him downe vpon his bed, making no creature in the house priuy to his intent, not his owne brother, his mind still running on his faire mistresse, and the happy houre that should tye them both in one: neuer was there hunger starued man that did long more for the swéet approach of wholesome food, than did Crispine for two a clocke. And so soone as the silent night had drawne all things to rest, Cris­pine got him vp, and to Canterbury goes he to méet his rose chéeked Lady in her fathers Parke, who also tooke hold of Times for locke, and like cleare Cynthia shaped her course to sooke out Sol in the Meri­dian. But so soone as her searching eye had spyed him the commen­ded his vigilancy, saying: He well obserued his houre: O my deare (quoth he) rich preyes doe make true men théeues: but finding thee here so happily, I will fetch the Frier straight: he had no soone called at the Friers doore, but he presently heard him; and groaping the way downe, he opened the doore, and along they went together: but the Frier finding his iourney longer than he expected, said; That either Saint Gregories Chappell was remoued, or else he was not so good a footman as he was wont to be: that is likely enough (said Crispine:) for how much the older you are since you went this way last, so much the weaker you are to trauell, but be you content, now we are at the last come to the place, and therefore good Frier make what speed you may. I warrant you (quoth he) and there withall hée puts his spectacles on his nose The faire Princesse perceiuing that, laughed heartily, saying: Little n [...]d hath a blind man of a paire of Spectacles. Truly Mistresse, sayd he, as little néed hath an old man of a young wife; but you may sée what vse is: Though I bée blind and can sée neuer a letter, yet I cannot say Masse without my Booke and my Spectacles, and then he procéeded to solemnize their marriage, which being finished, the Frier had his gold▪ and home hée was led: in the meane time the Princesse stayed still in the Parke for her bridgroome, where when he came, on a banke of sweet Prim­roses, he pluckt the rose of amorous delight: and after the Princesse came to her Fathers Palace, and Crispine to his Masters shop.

CHAP. VII.

How Crispianus was prest to the warres, and how he fought with Iphicratis the renowned Generall of the Persians, who made warre up­on the Frenchmen: shewing also the occasion that a Shoomakers sonne is said to be a Prince borne.

IN the meane time that Crispine was secretly busied about his mar­riage, his brother Crispianus the same night, with many other, was prest to warres into the Countrey of Gaule, now called France, which made his Master and Dame full of woe, who had committed to his gouernement the whole rule of his house. And when Crispine came home, they told him what chance had hapned. And demanded where he had béen, they sayd▪ they were glad he had so well escaped.

Crispine excusing himselfe so well as he could, sayd, he was sorry for his brothers sudden departure: notwithstanding, the ioy of his late marriage mi [...]igated much of his sorrow: to whom in his bro­thers absence, his Master gaue the ouersight of his houshold, which place he guided with such diseretion, as thereby he got both the good will of his Master, and the loue of the houshold. And as he sate one day at his worke, he sung this song in commendation of marriage, himselfe sung the Ditty, and his fellowes bore the burthen.

AMong the joyes on earth, though little joy there be,
hey downe downe adowne, fine is the silken twist,
Among the married sort most comfort I doe see:
hey downe downe adowne, beleeve it they that list.
He that is a married man, hath beauty to embrace,
Hey downe downe adowne, and therefore mickle woe:
He liveth in delight, and is in happy case,
Hey downe downe adowne, in faith we thinke not so.
His wife doth dresse his meate, with every thing most meet,
Hey downe downe adowne, faire women love good cheare:
And when he comes to bed, she gives him kisses sweet,
Hey downe downe adowne, for thankes he payes full deare.
A hundred honey sweets, he hath when that is done,
hey downe downe adowne, the truth is seldome knowne,
He hath in a little time a daughter or a sonne,
hey downe downe adowne, God grant they be his owne.
A wife is evermore, both faithfull, true and just,
hey downe downe adowne, 'tis more than you doe know:
[Page]Her husband may be sure, in her to put his trust,
hey downe downe adowne, most are deceived so.
While he doth ride abroad, she lookes unto his house,
hey downe downe adowne, the finest cloth is torne:
And when he comes, she gives him brawne and sowse,
hey downe downe adowne, and oftentimes the horne.

Now now, what is that you say (quoth Crispine?) Nothing (quoth they) but onely beare the burthen of your Song. And surely we thinke it great pitty that you are not married, séeing you can sing so well in the praise of marriage. Truly (quoth he) were it not for that holy Iustitution, what would the world but be a brood of haplesse bastards, like to the cursed s [...]d of Cain, men fit for all manner of vil­lany, and such as would leaue behind them a race of runnagates, per­sons that would liue as badly as they are lewdly begotten.

The rest of the Iourney-men hearing him enter into such a déepe discourse of the matter began therefore to demand many questions: but s [...]ing it appertaines not to our matter, wéele leaue them to their disputation: and in the meane space I will shew you something of Crispianus, who is now in France, with many other Noble Brit­taines, whom Maximinus sent thither to aide the Gaules against the mighty force of Iphicratis the Persian Generall, who had at this time inuaded their countrey with a great power. The day of battell being appointed, the Armies met in the field, at what time both the Generals like two Lyons filled with wrath in their proud march viewed one another, breathing forth on both sides words of dis [...]aine, and thus the Generall of the Gaules began.

Thou insolent Commander of the Easterne troupes, how durst thou set thy ambitious foot within our territories? Cannot the con­fines of Persia content thee, nor those conquered Kingdomes already in thy hand, but that with vn [...]atiate desire thou must come to vsurpe our right? Know thou, that the vndaunted Gaules doe scorne thee: for albeit that Alexander like, thou séekest to subdue the whole world, flattering thy selfe in thy fortunes, yet neuer thinke that the sonne of a Shoomaker shall bend our necke to a seruile yoke. Therefore in our iust right we are come to giue thee hire for thy pride, and by the force of our swords to beat downe the Scepter of thy proud thoughts.

The renowned Iphicratis vpon these words made this replie: Now may I report that the Gaules can doe something, finding them such good scolds: But know this that I come not to ra [...]le, but to re­uenge [Page] these contemptuous spéeches, and with the points of sturdy Lances to thrust them downe your throates againe. Indéed, my fa­thers trade is a reproach vnto me, but thou art a reproach to thy fa­ther: but thou shalt vnderstand that a Shoomakers son is a Prince borne, his fortunes made him so, and thou shalt finde no lesse. And hereupon the [...]r [...]mpets sounding to a charge, and the drums striking alarum, there followed a sore and cruell fight: wherein Crispianus like a second Hector layd about him, he wing downe his foes on eue­ry side. Whose [...]alianey and Princely courage was noted of all the Gaules. And this fierce fight ended with the nights approach, each Army tooke their rest. At what time [...]he Noble Generall of the Gaules sent for Crispianus, and receiuing him with sundry kinde im­bracements in his Tent, he demanded of what birth he was. To whom Crispianus sha [...]ed this answer: Most worthy Generall, my birth is not meane, and my secrets lesse, but by trade I am a Shoo­maker in England.

A Shoomaker (said the Generall!) If such [...]ame waite vp [...]o Shoo­makers, and such magnanimity follow them, well were it for vs, if all the people in the Kingdome were Shoomakers. And as great thankes I am to giue Maximinus for sending me such a Souldier, as he may be proud to haue such a subiect: and now right sorry am I, that euer I reproached famous Iphicratis, with his Fathers trade, séeing I finde it true that Magnanimity and Knightly Prowesse, is not alwayes tyed within the compasse of Noble blood. And for my owne part, I will so honourably requite thy deseruings, that thou shalt blesse the time thou euer camest into these wars.

The next morning the Generals ioyned battell againe, resoluing in this fight either by death or victory, to make an end of these trou­bles, where the Souldiers on each side strou [...] for the golden wreath of ren [...]wne, The two Generals méeting in the battell, [...]ought most couragiously together; in which bloody conflict the Prince of the Gaules was thrice by Iphicratis vnhorsed, and as many times of Crispianus mounted againe: but in the end the great Commander of the Ea­sterne Army, so mightily preuailed, that he had seized on the person of the French Prince, and was carrying him cap [...]iue to that Colours.

But so highly was Crispianus fauoured of fortune, that he and his followers met him in the pride of his conquest: who then all besmea­red in the Persian blood, set vpon Iphicratis, and so manly behaued himselfe, that her recouered the Prince againe, and in despight of [Page] the Persians, brought him to his Royall Tent: in which encounter the Noble Iphicratis was sore wounded, by reason whereof the Soul­diers had rest for thrée or foure dayes: in which space Iphicratis sent to the Prince of Gaules, to know what kin he was, that in such valt­ant sort rescued him out of his hands, saying; that if he would serue him, he would make him ruler ouer a mighty Kingdome.

The French Prince sent him word, that it was a right hardy Brit­taine, which had performed that honourable seruice: but no knight, though well deseruing greater dignity, but a shoomaker in England: and thus (quoth he) a Shoomakers son was by a shoomaker foyled.

When Iphicratis vnderstood this, he sent word againe to the Gaules, that for the fauour of that worthy man, he would not onely cease the warres, but for euer after be a friend to the Gaules: which ioyfull message when the French king vnderstood, most willingly he imbra­ced the vnlooked for tydings of happy peace: and thereupon made Crispianus a knight.

After the which there was a great feast ordained, whereunto the re­nowned Iphicratis was inuited, and the two Generals, with Crispi­anus friendly met together. Thus the sowre warre was ended with swéet feasting: and Iphicratis soone after departed out of the Country with his Army, and neuer after annoyed them.

Then the French king, writing his Letter of thankes vnto the Emperor Maximmus, did therein certifie him of the Princely a [...]ts of Crispianus, whereby he was brought into the Emperours fauour; and with these Letters Crispianus returned into England.

CHAP. VIII.

How the Lady Ursula finding her selfe to be with childe, made her great mone unto her husband Crispine, and how he provided for her a secret place, where she was delivered.

IN the meane space the Lady Vrsula finding her selfe to bée with childe, and her vnknowne husband comming one day with shooes vnto her, she made her moane vnto him, saying: O Crispine how shall we doe? the time of my sorrow and shame draweth on; I feele that [...]i [...]ing in my wombe, which, I feare, will bring death vpon vs all: Why my deare Lady (answered he) art thou with childe? kéene thy Chamber close, and wi [...]tily excuse thy griefes, vntill I haue found meanes to procure our safety.

But dost thou meane faithfully (sayd she) will thou not deceiue me, [Page] and for feare of my Fathers wrath fl [...]e the Country: if thou shouldest doe so, then were I the wretchedst. Lady aliue. Forsake me not swéet Crispine, whatsoeuer thou doest, but take me with thee where­soeuer thou goest: it is not my fathers frownes that I regard, so I m [...]y haue thy fauour, what doe I care for a Princely Pallace: an homely Cottage shall content me in thy company.

O my Loue, I will rather learne to spi [...]ne hemp for thy sh [...] thréed, than liue without thee in the greatest pleasure.

I will not leaue thee my deare [...]oue, (quoth he) by that faith I [...]ow, which I plighted to thee at our blessed marriage; and therefore be contented, and it shall not be long before I returne. Leauing thus his sad Lady he came home, and secretly brake the matter vnto his Dame, desiring her counsell in this his extremity.

What, how now (quoth she) hast thou got a Maide with ch [...]ld? Ah thou whorson villaine, thou hast vndone thy selfe, how will thou doe now? thou hast made a faire hand; here is now sixteene pence a wéeke beside Sope and Candles, Beds, Shirts, Bigpins, Wast­coat [...], Headbands, Swadlebands, Crosseclothes, Bibs, Taileclouts, Manties, Hose, Shooes, Coats, Petticoates, Cradie and Crickets, and beside that a standing stoole, and a Po [...]net to make the Child Pap; all this is come vpon thee, besides the charges of all her lying in. Oh Cris­pine, Crispine, I am heartily sorry for thee.

But in good faith, if I knew the queane that hath brought thee to this folly; I would haue her by the face [...] sweare to you: for though I speake it before thée (Crispine) thou art a proper fellow, and thou mightest haue done full well, if thou hadst had grace. God hath done his part on thee: and with that she began with kindnesse to weepe. Whereupon her Husband comming in, asked what she ailed: O man sayd she) Crispine! Why what of Crispine? tell me. Why speakest thou not? We shall loose a good seruant, so we shall. What se [...]u [...]nt shall we loose foolish woman (quoth he?) Tell me quickly. O husband! by Cocke and Pie I sweare, Ile haue her by the nose. Who wilt thou haue by the nose? What the Deuill art thou mad, that thou wilt not answere mée? Crispine, who at his Masters comming shunned the roome, lending an eare vnto those words, went to his Master, and said vnto him: Sir, these foure yéeres haue [...] serued you; and the fi [...]t drawes néere to an end; and as I haue found you a good Master to mée, so I trust you haue had no great cause to complaine of me, though (through ignorance) I haue some­times [Page] made offence: and knowing at this instant, no man so néere a friend vnto me as your selfe, I haue thought good to impart my se­cret counsell to you: something I presume vpon my Dames fa­uour: which made me open that vnto her, which now I wish I had not discouered. Notwithstanding, resting more vpon your discre­tion than her secre [...]y, I would desire your counsell in a matter that concernes me very néere. Uerily sayd his Master, if it be a thing wherein I may doe thee good, thou shalt finde that I will not fall from thee in thy sorrowes, and therefore be not abashed to declare thy mind: for I sweare, if I may procure thee right, thou shalt put vp no wrong. Why then sir, thus it is (quoth he) my will running before my wit, I haue gotten a Maiden with childe, and I wot not in this case what to doe, that I might preserue the Mayde from shame, and my selfe from discredit: desides, I doubtifit be knowne, it will cost me my life: therefore in such case good Master, be secret. Tush man feare not (quoth he) it is a matter of nothing: but I pray thee, now tell mée, what wanton wagtaile is it that thou hast clapt thus vnder the apron? O Master (quoth he) the Kings faire Daughter Vrsula is my Loue, and she it is that liues in care for my sake. Pas­sion of my heart thou whor [...]on Knaue, quoth his Master, thou art a dead man. I maruell how the Deuill thou camest to bée so bold with her: Surely thou hast drawne on her shooes on Sunday, I may say, thou hast left so good a token behind: but intruth my boy I com­mend thee: that thou wouldest shoot at the fairest. Yea sir, quoth Crispine, and I haue hit the marke I frow, and doe verily beleeue, that none will shoot [...] néere againe. Nay sweare not, said his Ma­ster, many may aime at faire markes, and more than one man hits them now and then: but what wouldst thou haue me to doe in this case? My good Master (quoth Crispine) the truth is, she is my wife; and the very same night my brother was prest to the warres, I was married to her: and if you could tell me how she might be deliuered of her burthen without any suspition, I should not onely remaine be­holding to you while I liued, but would also gratifie your kindnesse in such sort as should content you. His [...]ame all this while listned to their talke, and when [...]he vnderstood he spake of the kings daugh­ter, and that he had married her, she sayd: Now Gods blessing on thy heart Crispine, that thou art so carefull for thy wife, but it ma­keth me wonder shée would marry a Shoomaker, and a poore fellow too. Master and Dame (quoth Crispine) séeing I haue begun, I [...] [Page] shew you a further matter, as strange as the other. The necessity of these times makes many Noble personages to maske in simple ha­bite, as Jupiter did in a shepheards wéed, and the truth is, that Lady Vrsula is not ignorant, that by matching with mée she hath wedded a Prince, and you may say, that these fiue yéeres two Princes haue serued you obediently, vnder the simple borrowed names of Crispine and Crispianus.

Our Royall Father was slaine by the Emperour Maximinus, and the Quéene our Mother yet lies imprisoned, and your poore house, and these leather garments, haue béen our life of defence against the blood▪ thirsty tyrant. Now you see, that though there were hate to­wards vs in the father, yet there is loue yéelded vs by the daugh­ter. This must be kept for a certaine time from the knowledge of him lest our liues pay a deare ransome for our loues. Well Crispine (quoth his Dame) be of good cheare, for I haue a deuice in my head, how to get thy Loue out of her fathers Pallace, that shée may bée brought to bed in my owne house, without either hurt to thee, or dishonour to her, if thou wilt doe as I wish thee. When you doe per­ceiue that shee growes néere vnto the time of her trauell, I would w [...]sh you to worke such meanes as to set some trée on fire late in the night, that standeth somewhat néere one of the Beacons vpon the Sea coast, whereby it will follow, that such watchmen as watch at our Beacons, supposing the Beacons at the Sea coast to be on fire, will set theirs on fire also. Then will there be a great hurlie burlie, with the preparation of men at Armes on all sides to withstand a supposed foe, that which they shall neuer find: then (as you know) Maximinus with his houshold will be in most feare, because hée is most hated, that whilest he is abroad, the rest of his houshold will euery one of them séeke for their owne safegard, amongst the which, let faire Vrsula be one, who by that meanes singling her selfe alone, may take vp my house, and here she may be closely kept till she bee deliuered, taking vpon her the name and habite of a simple woman. But the truth of this matter (quoth Crispine) I doubt it will soone be perceiued and found out, then how shall Lady Vrsula doe, for she will straight be missed. Tush that's no matter (qd his Dame) and missed let her he, vntill such time as she is in a better case to go abroad again; for in such a tumult as then will bée, they will suppose many things, that one mischance or other is befal [...]e her: or if she be in health, that she hath wandred into the woods or some other vncouth place▪ where [Page] she might best prouide for safety: and when she comes home againe, I warrant thee Crispine she shall be welcome. Then [...]aid his Ma­ster, I like my wiues counsell well; therefore by my consent put it in practice: Whereunto Crispine consented, and so making the Lady priuy to the purpose, at length it was put in execution, at what time there was crying out on all sides, Arme, Arme, Arme: our enemies are comming vpon vs. Where quoth they?) at Rutu­pium said one, at Aruvagus Castle sayd another: quoth the third it is at Doris: I tell you (quoth the fourth) it is at Duur: And all this is but Dover, (said the fifth man;) and at Dover it is vndoubtedly, therefore haste, haste away: for neuer was there more neede: so that Maximinus was almost at his wits end, as one not knowing which way to turne, the cries of the people came so thicke, one after another, the waiting Gentle women left the Princesse, and sought their owne safety. Thus while some were busie in carrying out the Kings treasure, others hiding the plate, and others the goods, Vrsula had an easie passage into the Shoomakers house.

The young Prince Crispine was gone with the rest of the Towne towards Dover, where when they came, there was nothing to doe, which when Maximinus saw, he was not a little glad the warres were so soone ended: But when hee came to the Court, and missed his daughter, there was posting vp and downe in euery place to séeke her, but all in vaine, for no man could meet with her, for which hée made a great lamentation, making a Proclamation throughout the whole Countrey, That whosoeuer could bring her to him, he should not onely haue a Princely reward, but also if hée were a man of Noble blood, hée should be honoured with the marriage of his faire daughter. This was good newes to Crispine, who was not to learne to make profit thereof. But by that time his Lady was i [...]ht, Crispi­anus his eldest brother arriued into England wi [...]h great honour, as before you haue heard. And before he went to the Court he thought it good to visite his old Master, who came also in good time to the chri­stening of his brothers childe, which when hee with wonder beheld, noting what a strange accident there was, that Maximinus daughter should be his brothers wife. But after that he had in Princely man­ner saluted the new deliuered Lady, taking the infant in his armes, he kissed it, saying, Now I will say and swea [...]e ▪said he that a Shooma­kers Son is a Prince borne ioyning in the opinion of phicratis, and henceforth Shoomakers shall neuer let their terme [...]ie.

[Page]Then turning to his Master and Dame (he said) how much deare Master and Dame are we bound to your fauours, that haue maintain­ed our honours with our happinesse; for by this meanes, I hope wée shall make a ioyfull conclusion of our sorrowfull beginning, and I will so worke, that the Emperor shall confirme what is already begunne, I meane, the honour due to these Princely Louers, and together with our happy fortunes procure our mothers liberty.

Hereupon, within a short time after, hee made preparation to the Court, hée attired himselfe in Princely manner, and with a most knightly grace he deliuered to Maximinus, the [...]ing of Gaules letter, where he certified the Emperor of the honourable déeds performed by Crispianus, whereupon he receiued him to great fauour, and said vnto him: Right renowned knight, for the great honour thou hast done me in France, I will honour thee with any thing which thou shalt com­mand, that standeth with the Maiesty and credit of an Emperour to giue. Then I beséech your Highnesse (quoth he) to grant mée the life and liberty of my deare mother, that late Quéene of Logria. Art thou her sonne said Maximinus? although thy father was my foe, yet I must néedes say, hee was a most couragious and warlike Prince: thy sute is granted. And once I had a daughter worthy of thy loue, but vnconstant Fortune hath bereft me of that blisse; but had it plea­sed the faire Heauens to haue left her me till this day, I would haue made thee more honourable by her match: But séeing that my wishing doth nothing profit thee, take hence the richest Iewell I haue, and be thou next my selfe in authority: with that hee tooke from his owne necke a [...]ollar of most, precious Diamonds, and gaue it to Crispianus, saying, Be thou as fortunate as Policrates.

CHAP. IX.

How faire Ursula came before her father with Crispine her husband, who was joyfully received by him, and in the end had his good will to confirme the marriage betwixt them, whereupon there was great joy on both sides. And the Shoomakers in honour of this happy day, made a joyfull Song.

VVIthin a certaine space after, word was brought to the Empe­rour, that his daughter was with a Shoomaker, come to the Court; whereat Maximinus was stricken into a sudden ioy, saying: An honourable Shoomaker may hée be that hath brought my faire daughter againe, Welcome my swéet Vrsula, and in good time wel­come [Page] to thy father, and welcome also is this happy young man that hath so fortunately brought thee: and turning to Crispianus he said: Noble Sir Knight, take here my daughter to wife; Not so deare Father (quoth she) this man hath best deserued my loue, that hath preserued my life, and his wife will I [...]e. Why Vrsula▪ said her father, wilt thou darken the sun shine of my ioy, with the clouds of foule obstinacy, and yoke thy selfe so vnequally? This man is a Prince. And this mans sonne is another (quoth she▪) That is strange said the Emperour; can that childe be a Prince, whose father is but a Shoomaker?

Then answered Vrsula, My Royall Father, a Shoomakers sonne is a Prince borne: Most gracious Lord (quoth Crispianus) the very like sentence did I heare the renowned Iphicrates pronounce to the King of Gaules. when hee vpbraided him with his birth: with that Crispines Dame presented the childe to the Emperour, and faire Vr­sula was very diligent to discouer the childs face, and held it to her Fa­ther. Why daughter (quoth he) art thou not ashamed to henour a base borne brat so much? hence with the Elfe, and therewithall pusht it from him; whereat his daughters teares trickled downe her chéeks, and so kissing the childe, gaue it againe to the woman. What (said Maximinus) doest thou loue the childe so well, that thou must kisse it, and wéepe for it? I haue cause deare Father (quoth she) for that this childes mother lay in my mothers belly.

At these words the Emperor suspected something, and demanded of Crispine of what parentage he was. And then knowing that he was Crispianus brother, all the controuersie was ended, and their secret marriage confirmed openly, with great ioy and triumph: at which time the Shoomakers in the same towne made holiday: To whom Crispine and Crispianus seat most Princely gifts for to maintaine their merriment. And euer after vpon that day at night the Shooma­kers make great cheare and feasting, in remembrance of these two Princely brethren: and because it might not be forgotten they caused their names to be placed in the Kalender for a yéerely remembrance, which you shall finde in the moneth of October, about thrée dayes be­fore the feast of Simon and Jude.

The Shoomakers Song on Crispianus night.
Two Princely brethren once there▪ were,
Right Sonnes unto a King.
Whose father tyrant Maximus
[Page]to cruell death did bring:
Crispianus one was call'd,
the eldest of the two;
Crispine was the others name,
which well had learned to wooe,
These brethren then were after faine,
from fathers house to flie:
Because their foes to spoile their lives
in privy waite did lie:
Into a kinde Shoomakers house,
they suddenly stept in;
And there to learne the Gentle Craft,
did presently begin.
And five yeeres space they lived so,
with great content of minde;
So that the Tyrant could not tell;
whereas he should them finde:
Though every day to Court they came▪
with Shooes for Ladies feet;
They were not knowne by their attire,
they us'd themselves so meet,
At length unto the furious warres
was Crispianus prest;
Whereas his knightly prowesse then
he tried above the rest:
But Crispine found him better sport,
would I had Crispine beene;
The Kings faire daughter lov'd him well,
as it was after seene.
The length of this faire Ladies foot,
so well did Crispine know,
That none but he could please her mind,
the certaine truth is so:
Came he by night or else by day,
he was most welcome still;
With kisses sweet she did him pay,
and thankes for his good will,
So oft these Lovers twaine did meete,
by day and eke by night:
[Page]That at the last the Lady said,
she should be shamed quite;
What was the matter tell me true,
that so her sorrow bred?
Her Shoomaker most daintily
had got her Maidenhead.
But he at length so wisely wrought,
as doth the Story tell:
Her fathers right good will he got,
and every thing was well.
And Crispianus came againe
from warres victoriously:
Then Shoomakers made Holiday,
and therefore so will I.
And now for Crispianus sake,
this wine I drinke to thee,
And he that doth this marke mistake,
and will not now pledge me:
He is not Crispianus friend;
nor worthy well I wot,
To have a Lady to his Love,
as Crispine he hath got.

CHAP. X.

How Sir Simon Eyer being at first a Shoomaker, became in the end Mayor of London, through the counsell of his wife: and how he broke his fast every day on a Table that he said he would not sell for a thou­sand pounds: and how he builded Leaden Hall.

OUr English Chronicles doe make mention, that sometime there was in the honourable City of London a worthy Mayor, known by name of Sir Simon Eyre, whose fame liueth in the mouthes of ma­ny men to this day, who albeit be descended from meane parentage, yet by Gods blessing, in the end he came to be a most worthy man in the common-wealth.

This man being brought young out of the North Countrey, was bound prentise to a Shoomaker, bearing then the name of the Gentle-Craft (as still it doth) his Master being a man of reasonable wealth, set many Iourney-men and prentises to worke, who followed their businesse with great delight, which quite excludeth all wearines, [Page] for when seruants doe sit at their worke like Dromedaries, then their minds are neuer lightly vpon their businesse: for it is an old prouerbe,

They prove servants kind and good,
That sing at their busines like birds in the wood.

Such fellowes had this young Lad, who was not behind with ma­ny Northerne I [...]gs, to answer their Southerne Songs. This youth be­ing the youngest prentise in the house, as occasion serue [...], was often sent to the Conduit for water, where in short time he fell acquainted with many other prentises comming thither for the same intent.

Now their custome was so, that euery Sunday morning diuers of these prentizes did vse to goe to a place neare the Conduit, to breake their fast with pudding Pies, and often they would take Simon along with them: but vpon a time it so fell out, that when hee should draw money to pay the shot with the rest, that he had none▪ whereupon hée merrily said vnto them: My faithfull friends, and Conduit compani­ous, treasurers of the Water-tankerd, and maine pillars of the pud­ding-house, I may now compare my purse to a varren Doe, that yeelds the Kéeper no more good than her empty carkasse: or to a bad nut, which being opened hath neuer a kernell: therefore, if it will please you to pardon me at this time, and excuse me for my part of the shot, I doe here vow vnto you, that if euer come to be Lord Mayor of this City, I will giue a breakfast vnto all the prentizes in London. We doe take your word (quoth they) and so they departed.

It came to passe, that Simon hauing at length worne out his yéeres of Apprentiship, that hee fell in loue with a Maiden that was a néere neighbour vnto him, vnto whom at length he was married, and not him a shop, [...]d laboured hard daily, and his young wife was neuer idle but straight when she had nothing to doe she sate in the shop and spun: and hauing liued thus alone a yéere or thereabout, and hauing gathered something together, at length he got him some prentizes and a Iourni­man or two, and he could not make his ware so fast as be could haue sold it, so that [...]e stood in great néed of a Iourni man or two more.

At the last, one of his seruants spring one goe along the stréet with a [...]ardell at his backe called to his Master, saying, Sir, yonder goes S. Hughes bones, twenty pounds to a [...]nny. Run presently quoth he) and bring him hither. The boy running forth, called to the man, say­ing, Good fellow, come hither, here is one would speake with you▪ The fellow being a French-man, that had not long béene in England, turning about, sayd: Hea, what you sea? Will you speake wed me, [Page] Hea? what you haue? tell a mee, what you haue▪ hea? And with that comming to the stall, the good man ask [...] him if hee lackt worke, We par ma foy, quoth the French-man. Hereupon Simon tooke him in, and to worke hee went merrily, where he behaued himselfe so well, that his Master made good account of him, thinking hee had béene a Bachelour, but in the end it was found otherwise.

This man was the first that wrought vpon the low cut sh [...]e, with she square toe, and the latchet ouerth wart the instep, before which time in England they did weare a high shooe that reached aboue the ankles, right after the manner of our husbandmens shooes at this day, saue one­ly that it was made very sharpe at the toe turning vp like the taile of an Island dog: or as you sée a Cocke carry his hinder feathers.

Now it is to be remembred, that while John Denevale dwelt with Simon Eyre, it chanced that a ship of the Ile of Candy was driuen vp­on our Coast, laden with all [...]inde of Lawnes and Cambrickes, and other linnen cloth: which commodities at that time were in London very scant, and excéeding deare: and by reason of a great l [...]ake the ship had got at Sea, being vnable to faile any further, he would make what profit he could of his goods here.

And being come to London, it was John Denevales chance to méete him in [...]he stréets, to whom the Merchant (in the Gréeke tongue) de­manded where he might haue lodging, for he was one that had neuer béene in England before; and being vnacquainted, wist not whither to goe: but while he spake Gréeke, John Denevale answered him still in French, which tongue the Merchant vnderstood well: and there­fore being glad that he had met with one that could talke to him, hée declared vnto him what tempests hee endured at Sea, and also how his ship lay vpon the Coast with such Commodities as he would sell. Truely Sir (quoth John) I am my selfe but a stranger in this Countrey, and vtterly vnacquainted with Merchants, but I dwell with one in the City that is a very honest man, and it may be that hée can helpe you to some that will deale with you for it, and if you thinke it good, I will moue him in it and in the meane space, Ile bring you where you may haue a very good lodging, to morrow morning I will come to you againe.

Sir, said the Merchant, if you please to doe me that fauour, Ile not onely be thankfull vnto you for the same, but also in most honest sort will content you for your paines: and with that they departed.

Now, so soone as John the Frenchman came home, he moued th [...] [Page] matter vnto his Master, desiring him that hée would doe what hee could for the Merchant, when his Master had heard each circum­stance, noting there with the want of such commodities in the [...]and, cast in his mind as he stood cutting vp his worke, what were best to bee done in this case, saying to his man John, I will thinke vpon it betwixt this and the morning, and then I will tell you my minde: and there withall casting downe his cutting Knife, he went out of his shop into his Chamber, and therein walked vp and downe alone very sadly, ruminating hereon: he was so farre in his muse, that his wife sending for him to supper two or three times he nothing regar­ded the maides call, hammering this matter in his head: at last his wife came to him saying: Husband, what meane you that you doe not come to supper? why speake you not man? Heare you? good husband, come away, your meat will be cold: but for all her words, he staid walking vp and downe still, like a man that had sent his wits a wool gathering: which his wife séeing, pulled him by the sléeue, saying, why Husband in the name of God, why come you not? will you not come to supper to night? I called you a good while agoe. Body of me, wife (said he) I promise thee I did not heare shee: no saith, it séemeth so (quoth she) I maruell whereupon your mind run­neth: Beleeue me wife quoth hée, I was studying how to make my selfe Lord Mayor, and thée a Lady.

Now God helpe you (quoth she) I pray God make vs able to pay euery man his owne, that we may liue out of debt and danger, and driue the Woolfe from the doore, and I desire no more. But wife, said he, I pray thee now tell me, Doest thou not thinke that thou couldst make shift to beare the name of a Lady, if it should be put vpon thee? In truth Husband (quoth she) Ile not dissemble with you, if your wealth were able to beare it, my mind would beare it well enough. Well, wife, replyed he, I tell thee now in sadnesse, that if I had mo­ney, there is a commodity now to bée bought, the gaines whereof would be able to make me a Gentleman for euer. Alasse husband, that dignity your trade allowes you already, being a squire of the Gentle-Craft. then how can you be lesse than a Gentleman séeing your fonne [...] Prin [...]e [...]rne? Tush wife, quoth he, those titles doe onely rest in name, but not in nature: but of that sort had I rather be, whose lands are answerable to their vertues, and whose rents can maintaine the greatnesse of their mind. Then swéet husband, tell me, said his wife, tell me, what commodity is that which you might get so much by? I [Page] am sure your selfe hath some money, and it shall goe very hard but I [...]e procure friends to borrow one forty shillings, and beside that, rather then you shall lose so good a bargaine, I haue a couple of crownes that saw no Sun since we were first married, and them also shall you haue.

Alas wife (said Simon) all this comes not n [...]re that matter: I con­fesse it would do some good in buying some backs of leather, but in this thing it is nothing: for this is Merchantize that is precious at this time and rare to be had, and I heare, that whosoeuer will haue it must lay downe 3000 pounds ready money. Yea wife, and yet thereby he might get thrée and three thousand pounds profit.

His wife hearing him say so, was inflamed with the desire thereof, as women are (for the most part) very couetous: that matter running still in her minde, she could scant finde in her heart to spare him time to goe to supper, for very eagernesse to animate him on to take that bargaine vpon him. Wherefore so soone as they had supt, and giuen God thankes, she called her husband, saying: I pray you come hither I would speake a word with you: that man is not alwayes to bée blamed that sometimes takes counsell of his wife: though womens wits are not able to comprehend the greatest things, yet in doubtfull matters they oft helpe on a sudden.

Well wife, what meane you by this (said her husband?) In truth quoth she, I would haue you to plucke vp a mans heart, and spéedily cho [...] vp a bargaine for these goods you speake of. Who, [...]? quoth he, which way should I doe it, that am not able for thrée thousand pounds, to lay downe thrée thousand pence? Tush man quoth shée, what of that? euery man that beholds a man in the face, knowes not what he hath in his purse; and whatsoeuer he be that owes the goods, he will no doubt be content to stay a moneth for his money or thrée wéekes at the least: and I promise you, to pay a thousand pounds a wéeke, is a pretty round payment, and I may say to you, not much to be misliked of.

Now husband, I would haue you in the Morning goe with John the French man to the Grecian Merchant, and with good discretion driue a sound bargaine with him for the whole fraught of the S [...]i [...], and thereupon giue him halfe a dozen Angells in earnest, and eight and twenty daies after the deliuery of the goods, condition to deliuer him the rest of his money; But woman (quoth he) doest thou imagine that hee would take my word for so waighty a masse of money, and to deliuer his goods vpon no better security?

[Page]Good Lord quoth she, haue you no wit in such a case to make shift? [...]le tell you what you shall doe: Be not knowne that you bargaine for your owne selfe, but tell him that you doe it in the behalfe of one of the chiefe Aldermen in the City; but beware in any case, that you leaue wi [...]h him your owne name in writing, he [...]eing a Grecian can­not reade English: and you haue no need at all to shew John the French man, or if you should, it were no great matter, for you can tell well enough that he can neither write nor reade.

I perceiue wife (quoth he thou wouldst [...]aine be a Lady, and wor­thy thou art to be one, that dost thus [...]loy thy wits to bring thy hus­band profit: but tell me, if he should be desirous to sée the Alderman to conferre with him, how shall we doe then▪ Iesus haue mercy vpon vs (quoth she) you say women are fooles, but mée seemeth men haue néed to be taught sometimes. Before you come away in the mor­ning, let John the French-man tell him that the Alderman himselfe shall come to his lodging in the afternoone: and receiuing a note of all the goods that be in the ship, he shall deliuer vnto him a Bill of his hand for the payment of his money, according to that time. Now sweet heart (quoth she) this Alderman shall be thine owne selfe, and Ile goe bor­row for thee all things that shall be necessary against that time. Tush. (quoth her husband) canst thou imagine, that he séeing me in the mor­ning will not know me againe in the afternoone? O husband quoth thee, hee will not know thee, I warrant thee: for in the morning thou shalt goe to him in thy doublet of shéepes skins, with a smutched face, and thy apron before thee, thy thumb leather and hand-leather, [...]uckled close to thy wrist, with a foule band about thy necke, and a greas [...]e tap on thy head. Why woman (quoth he) to goe in this sort will be a discredit to mée, and make the Merchant doubtfull of my dealing: for men of simple attire are (God wot) slenderly estéemed.

Hold your peace good husband (quoth she) it shall not bee so with you, for John the Frenchman shall giue such good report to the Mer­chant for your honest dealing (as I praise God hée can doe no lesse) that the Grecian will rather conceiue the better of you, than other­wise: iudging you a prudent discr [...]t man, that will not make a shew of that you are not, but goe in your attire agr [...]able to your trade. And because none of our folkes shall be priuy to our intent, to morrow w [...]le [...]ing at my Cousin John Barbers, in S Clements Lane, which is not farre from the George in Lumbard-street, where the Merchant [...]rangers lie. Now Ile be sure that all things shall be ready at my [Page] Cousin Jo [...]ns, that you shall put on in the afternoone. And there he shall first of al with his scissers, snap off all the superfluous haires, and fashion [...]hy bushy [...]eard after the Aldermans graue cut: then shall he wash thee with a swéet Camphire Ball and [...]esprinkle thine head and face with the purest rose water; then shalt thou scoure thy pitchy fingers in a bason of hot water, with an ordinary washing Ball: and all this being done, strip thee from these common [...]eeds, and Ile put thee on a very faire doublet of tawny sattin, ouer the which thou shalt haue a cas­socke of branched damask, furred round about the shirts with the finest foynes, thy breeches of blacke [...]eluet, and shooes and stockings fit for such array: a band about thy necke as white as the driuen snow, and for thy wrists a pretty pa [...] of cuffs, and on thy head a cap of the finest blacke▪ then shalt thou put on a faire gowne, welted about with Ueluet, and ouerthwart [...]he backe thwart it shall bée with rich foyne, with a paire of swéet gloues on thy hands, and on thy forefinger a great seale­ring of gold.

Thou being thus attired, Ile intreat my Cousin John Barber, be­cause he is a very handsome youngman, neat and fine in his apparell, (as indéed all Barbers are, that he would take the paines to wait vpon you vnto the Merchants as if he were your man, which he will doe at the first, because one of you cannot vnderstand the other, so that it will be sufficient with outward curtesie, one to gréet another; and he to de­liuer vnto you his notes, and you to giue to him your E [...]ll, and so come home.

It doth my heart good, to sée how trimly this apparell doth become you, in good faith husband, me seemes in my minde, I sée you [...]t al­ready, and how like an Alderman you will looke, when you are in this costly array. At your returne from the Merchant, you shall put off all these clothes at my Cousins againe, and come home as you did goe forth. Then tell John the frenchman, that the Alderman was with the Merchant this afternoone; you may send him to him in the mor­ning, and bid him to command that his ship may be brought downe the Riuer: while she is comming about, you may giue notice to the Lin­nen-Drapers, of the commodities you haue comming. Enough wife (quoth he) thou hast said enough, and by the grace of God, Ile follow thy counsell, and I doubt not but to haue good fortune.

CHAP. XI.

How Simon Eyer was sent for to my Lord Mayors to supper, and sh [...]wing the great entertainment he and his wife had there.

A Non after, supper time drew néere, shee making her selfe ready in the best manner shee could deuise, passed along with her hus­band vnto my Lord Mayors house: and being entred into the great Hall, one of the Officers there certified my Lord Mayor, that the great rich Shoomaker and his wife were already come. Whereupon the Lord Mayor in courteous manner came into the Hall to Simon, say­ing, You are most heartily welcome good Master Eyer, and so is your gentle bedfellow. Then came forth the Lady Mayoresse and saluted them both in like manner, saying: Welcome good Master Eyer and Mistresse Eyre both, and taking her by the hand, set her downe among the Gentlewomen there present.

Sir (quoth the Lord Mayor) I vnderstand you are a Shoomaker, and that i [...] is you that hath bought vp all the goods of the great Argozy. I am indeed my Lord of the Gentle Craft, quoth he, and I praise God, all the goods of the great Argozy are mine owne, when my debts are paid.

God giue you much i [...]y of them, sayd the Lord Mayor, and I trust you and I shall deale for some part thereof. So the meat being then ready to be brought in, the guests were placed each one according to their calling. My Lord Mayor holding Simon by the hand, and the La­dy Mayoresse holding his wife, they would néedes haue them sit néere to themselues, which they then with blushing chéekes refusing, my Lord said vnto them, holding his ca [...] in his hand;

Master Eyre and Mistresse Eyre, let me entreat you not to be trouble­some, for I tell you it shall be thus: and as for those Gentlemen here present, they are all of mine old acquaintance, and many times wée haue béen together, therefore I dare be the bolder with them: and al­beit you are our neighbours also, yet I promise you, you are strangers to my Table, and to strangers common courtesie doth teach vs [...]o shewthe greatest fauour, and therefore let me rule you in mine house, and you shall rule me in yours.

When Simon sound there was no remedy, they safe them downe, but she poore woman was so abashed, that she did eate but little meate at the Table, bearing her selfe at the Table with a comely and modest countenance: but what shee wanted in outward féeding, her heart yéelded [...]o wi [...]h inward delight and content.

[Page]Now so it was, many men that knew not Simon, and séeing him in so simple attire sit next my Lord, whisperingly asked one another what he was. And it was enough for Simons wife with her eyes and eares, to sée and hearken after euery thing that was said or done.

A graue wealthy Citizen sitting at the Table, spake to Simon, and said, Sir▪ in good will I drinke to your good health, but I beseech you pardon mee, for I know not how to call your name: with that my Lord Mayor answered him: saying, his name is Master Eyre, and this is the Gentleman that bought all the goods that came in the blacke Swan of Candy, and before God, though he sit here in simple sort, for his wealth I doe verily beléeue he is more sufficient to beare this place than my selfe. This was a man that was neuer thought vpon, liuing obs [...]ure amongst vs, of none account in the eyes of the world, carrying the countenance but of a Shoomaker, and none of the best sort neither, and is able to deale for a bargaine of fiue thousand pounds at a c [...]ap. We doe want many such Shoomakers (said the Citizen:) and so with other discourse droue out supper, at what time rising from the Table, Simon and his wife receiuing sundry salutations of my Lord Mayor and his Lady, and of all the rest of the worshipfull guests, de­parted home to their owne house: at what time his wife made such a reci [...]all of the matters; how brauely they were entertained, what great cheare was there, also what a great company of Gentlemen and Gentlewomen were there, and how often they dranke to her husband and to her, with diuers other circumstances▪ that I beléeue, if the night had béene six moneths long, as it is vnder the North pole, the would haue found talke enough till morning. Of a truth (quoth she) although I sate closely by my Ladies side, I could eate nothing for ve­ry ioy, to heare and see that wee were so much made of. And neuer giue me credit husband, if I did not heare the Officers whisper as they stood behind me, and all demanded one of another, what you were, and what I was: O quoth one, doe you sée this man? marke▪ him well, and marke his wife well, that simple woman that sits next my Lady: What are they? What are they quoth another? Marry this is the rich Shoomaker that bought all the goods in the great Ar­gozie: I tell you there was neuer such a Shoomaker seene in London since the City was builded.

Now by my faith (quoth the third) I haue heard much of him to day among the Merchants in the stréet, going betwéene the two Chaines: Credit me husband, of mine honesty this was their com­munication. [Page] Nay, and doe you not remember when she rich Citizen dranke to you (wh [...]ch craued pardon, because he knew not your name) what my Lord Mayor sayd? Sir (quoth he) his name is Master Eyer, did you marke that? and presently thereupon he added these words: This is the Gentleman that bought, and so forth. The Gentleman vnderstood you, did you heare him speake that word?

In troth wife (quoth he) my Lord vttered many good words of me, I thanke his honour, but & heard not that. No (queth she) I heard it well enough: for by and by he procéeded further, saying: I suppose, though he sit here in simple sort, hee is more sufficient to beare this charge than my selfe. Yea thought I, he may thanke his wife for that, if it come so to passe. Nay, sayd Simon, I thanke God for it. Yea, & next him, you may thanke me (quoth she.) And it did her so much good to talke of it, that I suppose, if she had liued till this day, she should yet be prating thereof, and if sléepe did not driue her from it.

And now séeing that Simon the Shoomaker is become a Merchant, we will temper our tongues to giue him that title, which his custo­mers were wont to doe, and from henceforth call him master Eyer, who, while he had his affaires in hand, committed the gouernment of his shop to John the Frenchman, leauing him to be a guide to his other seruants, by meanes of which fauour, John thought himselfe at that time to be a man of no small reputation.

CHAP. XII.

How Iohn the French-man fell in love with one of his Masters Maides: and how hee was crossed through the craft of Haunce the Dutch-man.

AT the same time there was dwelling in the house, a iolly lusty wench▪ whose name was Florence, whom John the Frenchman loued dearely well, and for her only sake he brought many a good bottle of wine into the house, and therewithall so soone as their Master and Mistresse were gone to bed, they would oftentimes make merry a­mongst themselues; which Haunce, a Iourney-man in the same house perceiuing, sought to crosse them as much as in him lay, there­by to bring his owne purpose the better to passe, which was to ioyne the Maidens fauour to his owne affection.

And because the Frenchman had greatest gaines vnder his Master, and being thereof no niggard when hee had got it, the Maids did most delight in him, and little estéemed the Duchman, though his good will ware as great towards her as the other: for they could not be in any [Page] corner of the house together, nor could they méet in any place abroad, but the Dutchman would still watch them.

Upon a time, Florence being at Market, her Loue John went forth of the shop to meet her, and Haunce stayed not long behinde, who at length espied them, and heard his fellow John questioning with her in this sort.

What Florence, what haue you in your basket? hea, let mée sée what you buy. Marry John (quoth she) I haue bought Béefe and Mutton, and other things. Come, come, must you péepe in my bas­ket (quoth she) away for shame away. Be got Florence, mee will sée a little: ha, ha! Florence, you buy the pudding, hea, you loue de puddings? Florence hea? Yea Sir (quoth shee) what it I doe loue puddings? what care you? of my tra Florence, if I be your husband, me will giue you pudden shall warren. My husband (quoth she) in faith sir no, I meane not to marry a French man. What Florence, de French man be de good man: but Florence, me will giue you a pinte of wine by my treat.

O, I cannot stay now, I thanke you John: (quoth he) What Flo­rence, no stay with your friend? I shall make you stay a little time: and so with that, taking her by the hand into the Tauerne they goe, and Haunce the Dutch man following them, and sate close in the next roome, and by that meanes he heard all that they said, and that they ap­pointed the next Sunday to goe to Islington together, and there to be merry: and so the Maid hasting away they departed.

Well (quoth Haunce secretly to himselfe) it shall goe hard but Ile disappoint you. Sunday in the afternoone being come, John the French man, according to appointment▪ went before to Islington, leauing Florence to come after, with another Maide which dwelt in the same house, whilest hee prepared good cheare for their comming: and the more to make her m [...]rry, hée hired a noise of Musicians to at­tend t [...] pleasure.

And as it after happened, his fellow Haunce preuented this sport, who watching in the fields for Florence, at length he spied her com­ming: to whom he said, Well met faire Florence, your friend John hath changed his minde: for whereas he appointed you to méet him at Islington, you shall lose your labour so to doe, for he is not there. No, how so said Florence? The reason is this (said Haunce) So farre as I can vnderstand by him, he thinkes you are very flekle and inconstant; and because it was his chance this morning, to sée [Page] you speake to a young man that passed by, hee saith ver [...]ly, that you are a maruellous great dissembler: and in this humour he is gone I know not whither.

And is it euen so, said Florence? Ile tell thee what Haunce, be­cause hee hath made thee priuy to his minde, I will shew thee some­what of mine. Doth hee suspect me because I did but speake to one? Nay, i [...] he be so iealous now, what will he be hereafter? And there­fore insomuch that it is so, let him goe to the Deuill, hee shall very well finde, that I will set as light by him, as he doth by mee: Did [...]he Knaue get leaue of my Mistresse for me to come abroad this day, and doth hee now serue me thus? Well, this shall teach mee wit, in faith, and so she turnes backe againe.

Nay (quoth Haunce) séeing you are now abroad, let me intreat you to goe to Hogsdon, and I will bestow a messe of creame vpon you. In the end she was won, and as they walked together, Haunce spake thus vnto her: I know not what cause John the French man hath giuen you, to beare him so much good will, as I perceiue you doe, but in my minde, he is a farre vnméet match for you. And thus much I know, he is of a very mistrustfull nature, a wauering minde, and deceitfull heart, hee did pro [...]esse great good will to you in outward shew, but I haue heard him speake most shamefully of you behinde your backe. making his vaunts, that he had you at a becke of his finger, and how that for a pinte of Wine, he could cause you to follow him vp and downe ouer all the City. Florence, I am a foole to tell you thus much, it may be you will scarce beléeue it, and for my part, I will not vrge you thereunto: but in troth, looke what I tell you, it is for good will, because I haue béene sorry to sée you abused.

I thanke you good Haunce (quoth she) I may beléeue it well enough: but from henceforth I know what I haue to doe: I confesse indéed, that I haue drunke with him abroad, but it was at his owne earnest entreaty, neither could I euer be at quiet for the Knaue, hee doth so follow mee vp and downe in euery place, but séeing I know his dis­simulation to be such, if I doe not requite him in his kinde, trust me no more: and now I am heartily sorry that I was so foolish as to follow him this day at his appointment: but séeing he hath serued me thus, hée shall not know of my comming out of doores, and there­fore good Haunce, doe not tell him that you met mee this day on the fields.

Nay in [...]aith Florence (quoth he) I will not onely be secret to thee, [Page] but will also from henceforth acquaint thee with all my procéedings. And hauing eaten their creame, Haunce brought her some part of the way homeward: and taking his leaue of her, hée went backe to sée if he could méet with John the Frenchman, who hauing stayed at Isling­ton for Florence vntill almost night, and she not comming, hée and the Musicians together were faine to eate vp the meat, without more come pany, which caused John the Frenchman to sweare like a Turke.

And as hée was comming homeward ouer the fields [...]hafing and fretting to himselfe, who should hée méete withall but Haunce the Dutchman, who sayd to him: What, John, who thought to méet you here? Here thou [...]éest I am now, sayd John: but when came you from home? Marry but euen now (quoth Haunce.) And who is at home, sayd John? The other answered, there was no body but their Mistresse, and [...]he Maid Florence, with the rest of the houshold: [...]s Florence at home, said John? The diuell take her for mée, shée hath made a right foole of mée indéed▪ [...]ow so, quoth Haunce? Then the other in a great chafe, said: Be Got shall be reuenged, Florence mocke an me too mush, too mush shée make me beléeue she loue me, an me tinke [...]o too, and be Go [...] [...]he make me a [...] foole. When Haunce heard him say so, he sayd: Alas good John she loue thee? if you thinke so, you are greatly deceiued: for she is the [...]co [...]ingest quea [...] in London: And I haue heard her behinde your backe, to mocke and flout you, saying: Doth shitten John thinke that I will marry him? in faith sir no. When the Frenchman heard this he stampt like a mad man, and b [...] his thumb saying; Mordue me shall be reuenged be Got: shitten John? call a shitten John, hea? Ad [...]put in corroyname-shant, shitten John, no better name but shitten John? It is as I [...]ell you quoth Haunce: an [...] moreouer, [...]he sayd she scorned to come after you to Islington, saying, she would sée you hanged first. Well be no ma [...]ra, she no loue me, me no loue shee, but me shall goe home, me shall, and beat as a stock [...]sh. Nay, doe not so, said Haunce, but let her alone: for it is no credit for you to beat a woman: and besides that if you should, our Master would turne you out of doores; therefore be quiet a while, and be se­cret in that I haue told you, then shall you see how shée v [...]th you.

In this humour they d [...]aried▪ at what time, John [...]ull of melan­choly, stood frow [...]ing by the fire side: and as the Mayde went vp and downe the house about her businesse▪ he cast lookes on her, as [...]erce as a Panther; but shée, by reason of the Dutchmans tale to her, shewes her selfe as scornefull as hee was [...]urrish, and not once cast her eye [Page] towards him, and thus they droue out the time of a [...]night or a fortnight.

CHAP. XIIII.

How Master Eyer was called upon to be She [...]iffe of London, and how he held his place with worship.

[...] this space Master Eyer following his businesse, had sold so much of his Merchandize as paid the Grecian his whole money▪ and yet had resting to himselfe three times as much as he had sold, whereof he trusted some to one [...]lderman, and some to another, and a great deale amongst substantiall Merchants; and for some had much ready mo­ney, which he imployed in diuers Merchandizes: and became Adven­turer at Sea, hauing (by Gods blessing) many a prosperous voyage, whereby his riches daily increased.

It chanced vpon a time, that being in his study, casting vp his ac­counts, hee found himselfe to be clearely worth 12. or 13. thousand pounds, which he finding to be so, [...]e called his wife to him, and said:

The last day I did cast vp my accounts▪ and I find that Almighty God of his goodnesse hath lent me thirtéene thousand pounds to main­taine vs in our old age, for which his gracious goodnesse towards vs, let vs with our whole hearts giue his glorious Maiesty eternall praise and there withall pray vnto him that we may so dispose thereof, as may be to his honour, and the comfort of his poore members on earth, and aboue our neighbours may not be [...]uffed vp with pride, that while we thinke on our wealth we forget God that sent it va, for it hath béene an old saying of a wise man, That abundance groweth from riches and disdaine out of abundance: of which God giue vs grace to take h [...]d, and grant vs a contented minde.

So soone as he had spoken this, they heard one knocking hastily at doore; whereupon hee sent Florence to sée who it was, the Mayden comming againe, told her Master it was one of my Lord Mayors Officers that would speake with him. The Officer being permitted to come in, after due reuerence, he said, Sir, it hath pleased my Lord Mayor, with the worshipfull Aldermen his brethren, with the counsell of the whole communalty of the honorable City, to chuse your worship Sheriffe of London this day, and haue sent mee to desire you to come and certifie your minde therein, whether you be contented to hold the place or no.

[Page]Master Eyer hearing this, answered he would come to his Honour and their worships incontinent, and resolue them what he was minded to doe; and so the Officer departed.

His wife, which all this while listned vnto their talke, hearing how the case stood, with a ioyfull countenance méeting her husband, taking him about the necke with a louing kisse, sayd, Master Sheriffe, God giue thee ioy of thy name and place. O wife (quoth he) my person is farre vnworthy of that place, and the name farre excéedes my degrée.

What, content your selfe good husband (quoth shée) and disable not your selfe in such sort, but be thankfull vnto God for that you haue, and doe not spurne at such promotion as God sendeth vnto you: the Lord be praised for it, you haue enough to discharge the place whereto you are called with credit: and wherefore sendeth God goods, but there withall to doe him and your Countrey seruice? Wo­man (quoth he) it is an old prouerbe, Soft fire makes sweet mault: for such as take things in hand rashly, repent as suddenly: to be Sheriffe of London it is no little cost. Consider first (quoth he) what house I ought to haue, and what costly ornaments belong thereunto, as hanging of Tapistry, cloth of Arras, and other such like, what store of Plate and Goblets of Gold, what costly attire, and what a chargeable traine, and that which is most of all, how greatly I stand charged beside to our Soueraigne Lord the King, for the answer­ing of such prisoners as shallbe committed to my custody, with an hundred matters of such importance, which are to such an Office belonging.

Good Lord Husband (quoth shée) what néede all these repetitions? you néed not tell mée it is a matter of great charge: notwithstanding I verily thinke many heretofore haue with great credit discharged the place, whose wealth hath not in any sort béene answerable to your riches, and whose wits haue beene as meane as your owne: Truely Sir, shall I be plaine? I know not any thing that is to be spoken of, that you want to performe it, but onely your good will: and to lacke good will to doe your King and Countrey good, were a signe of an vn­worthy subiect, which I hope you will neuer be.

Well wi [...]e (said her husband) thou dost hold me here with [...]rittle prattle, while the time passeth on, 'tis high time I were gone to G [...]d-Hall, I doubt I shall appeare too vnmannerly, in causing my Lord Mayor, and the rest to stay my leisure. And hee hauing made [Page] herselfe ready, méet to goe before such an assembly as he went vnto, he went out of doores, at what time his wife called after him, saying: and holding vp her finger.

Husband, remember, you know what I haue said: take h [...]de you dissemble not with God and the world, looke to it husband: Goe too, goe too, get you in quoth he, about your businesse, and so away he went.

So soone as he was gone out of sight, his wife sent one of his men after him to Guild Hall to hearken and heare, whether her husband held his place or no: and if he do, bring me word with all possible spéed.

I will Mistresse quoth her man.

Now when Master Eyer came to Guild Hall, the Lord Mayor and his brethren bad him heartily welcome, saying: Sir, the communalty of the City hauing a good opinion of you, haue chosen you for one of our Sheriffes for this yéere, not doubting but to finde you a fit man for the place.

My good Lord, quoth hee, I humbly thanke the City for their cour­tesie and kindnesse, and would to God my wealth were answerable to my good will, and my ability were able to beare it. But I finde my selfe insufficient; I most humbly desire a yéere respite more, and par­don for this present.

At these words, a graue Commoner of the City standing vp, with one reuerence spake thus vnto the Mayor: My good Lord, this is but a slender excuse for Master Eyer to make; for I haue often heard him say, and so haue diuers others also, that he hath a Table in his house, where on hee breakes his fast euery day, that hee will not giue for a thousand pounds: Wherefore (vnder your Lordships correction) in my simple iudgement, I thinke hee that is able to spare a thousand pounds in such a dead commodity, is very sufficient to be Sheriffe of London. Sée you now, quoth my Lord, I muse Master Eyer, that you will haue so lame an excuse before vs, as to take exceptions at your owne wealth, which is apparently proued sufficient; you must know Master Eyer, that the Commons of London haue searching eyes, and seldome are they deceiued in their owne opinion, and there­fore looke what is done, you must stand to it.

I beséech you my Lord (quoth Master Eyer) giue me leaue to speeke one word. Let it be granted, that I will not giue my Table whereon I breake my fast for a thousand pounds, that is no conse­quence to proue it is worth so much, my fancy to the thing is all▪ [Page] for doubtlesse no man here would giue me a thousand shillings for it when they sée it. All is one for that, quoth my Lord Mayor, yet dare I giue you as much wine as you will spend this yeare in your Shriual­ty to let mee haue it: my good Lord quoth hee, on that condition I will hold my place, and rest no longer troublesome to this compa­ny. You must hold, sayd my Lord, without any condition or excep­tions at all in this matter: and so they ended.

The Assembly being then broken vp, the voice went M Eyer is Sheriffe, Master Eyer is Sheriffe. Whereupon the fellow that Mi­stris Eyer sent to obserue how things framed, ranne home in all haste, and with leaping and reioycing sayd: Mistris, God giue you ioy, for you are now a Gentlewoman. What quoth she, tell mesir sawce, is thy Master Sheriffe, or no [...] and doth he hold his place? Yes Mistris, bée holds it now as fast as the stirrop doth the shooe while we sow it; why then (quoth she) I haue my hearts desire, and that I so long looked for, and so away she went.

Within a while after came her husband, and with him one of the Aldermen, and a couple of wealthy Commoners, one of them was he that gaue such great commendations of his Table, and comming to his doore, he sayd, You are welcome home good Master Sheriffe▪ Nay, I pray you▪ come in and drinke with me before you goe.

Then sayd hee, Wife bring me forth the Pastie of Uenison, and set mee here my little Table, that these Gentlemen may eate a bit with mee before they goe. His wife which had béene oft vsed to this terme, excused the matter, saying; The little Table! good Lord hus­band, I doe wonder what you will doe with the little Table now knowing that it is vsed already? I pray you good Husband, content your selfe, and sit at this great Table this once. Then shee whispe­red him in the eare, saying; What man, shall we shame our selues? What shame (quoth he?) fell not me of shame, but doe thou as thou art [...]idden, for wee are thrée or foure of vs, then what should wée doe troubling the great Table? Truly (answered she) the little Table is not ready: now good husband let it alone.

Trust me wee are troublesome guests (said the Alderman) but yet we would faine sée your little Table, because it is sayd to bée of such price. Yea, and it is my mind you shall, quoth Master Eyer: therefore he called his wife againe, saying: Good wife, dispatch and prepare the little Table: for these Gentlemen would faigne haue a view of it▪

[Page]Whereupon his wife séeing him so earnest, according to her wonted manner, came in: and setting herselfe downe on a low stoole, laid a faire Napkin ouer her knées and set the platter with the pastie of Ue­nison thereupon and presently a chaire was brought for Master Ab­derman, and a couple of stooles for the two Commoners, which they beholding, with a sudden and hearty laughter, said; Why Master Sheriffe, is this the table you [...]eld so deare? Yes truely, quoth hée. Now verily, quoth they, you herein haue vtterly deceiued our expe­ctation. Euen so did you mine, quoth he, in making me Sheriffe: but you are all right welcome, and I will tell you true, had I not thought wondrous well of you, you had not séene my Table now. And I thinke, did my Lord Maior sée it as you doe, he would re­pent his bargaine so hastily made. Notwithstanding I account of my Table neuer the worse. Nor haue you any cause (quoth they) and so after much pleasant talke, they departed, spreading the fame of Master Sheriffes little table ouer the whole City.

But you must now imagine, that a thousand cares combred the Sheriffe, in prouiding all things necessary for his office: at what time he put off his Shoomakers shop to one of his men, and set vp at the same time the signe of the Blacke Swanne swimming vp­on the Sea, in remembrance of that Ship, that first did bring him his wealth, and before that time the signe of the Blacke Swanne was neuer seene or knowne in any place in or about the City of London.

CHAP. XIII.

How Haunce having circumvented Iohn the Frenchmans Love was by him and others finely deceived at the Garden.

NOw at that time John the French man, and faire Florence were both at variance, as you heard before, by the Dutch­mans dealing▪ by which subtilty he sought meanes to win fauour for himselfe: which John the Frenchman perceiued, and therefore went about not onely to preuent him, but to take reuenge on him for his de­ceitfulnes. And meeting Florence as shee went into the Garden for flowres, he began to talke thus vnto her.

What Florence, you goe to the Garden? And how then, quoth shée, what haue you to say to that? Me sea nothing, but you be discontent; [Page] you no speake a mee, you no looke a me, nor you no drinke with mée, nor noting a [...] Florence, how chance dat?

Goe get thee hence, prating foole, quoth shée, I drinke with thee? thou shall be piepeckt first. Piepecke? What be pie peckt a hea? Be [...]o [...] Florence, you make me a [...]acke nape, you mocke a mae, and call [...] shitten Jan, and you be soproud, because Haunce lo [...]e you, dat shall be maruell: but and if you call mée shitten John any more, par ma foy shall not put vp, shall not take at your hands. Who told you▪ that I called you shitten John, quoth Florence, I neuer called you so. No Florence! you no call a me shitten John? a so me [...]ant villain [...]lard Haunce tell a me so: I neuer said so, quoth Florence. But Haunce told mée that you made your boast that I was at a becke of your finger; and that you could make mee follow you vp and downe the whole City for a pinte of Wine; no, I would you should well vnderstand, I will not follow a better man than you. Of me fet Florence, me neuer sea so. No? yes, quoth she but you did, I can tell you by a good foken, for that very time that I should haue met you at Islington▪ you sayd it, and made me a foole to come ouer the fields to you, and when all came to all, you sent Haunce to tell me you were gone there hence long agone.

Ahcet t [...]king Haun [...]r, quoth John, be des fen bon, ' [...]is true, for me tarry dere more den one▪ two frée houre, and had prouide shapon, de rabit, de creame, de pu [...]ing pie, and twenty ding more. Well, howsoeuer it was, I am sure, I was made an asse betwixt you, and for that cause I will be ware how I shew kindnesse againe to any: therefore John I pray you be gone, and séeke some other company, for you shall not goe with me: No sayd John? Wellden, adieu Flo­rence, and so they par [...]ed.

Now it is to be vnderstood, that Haunce had promised Florence to méet her in the garden, and to bring with him a bottle of wine, and there in the presence of a Mayde or two more, to make themselues sure together: and shee for that purpose, had carried with her a good corner of a venison pastie. But there was an English Iourney-man in the house cald Nicolas that vnderstood thereof, who méeting with John the French man, he made him priuie thereunto saying; Trust me John, if thou wilt be ruled by mée, wée will not onely disappoint this match, but also with their good cheare make our selues merrie▪ John, who was glad and ready to doe the Dutchman any iniury, con­sented to follow Nicolas his counsell in any thing.

[Page]Then, quoth Nicholas, it shall be thus: I will goe to the Garden; and stay for Haunce his comming with the wine, and in the meane space doe thou hide thy selfe vnder one of the hedges of the Garden on the other side, and with thee take a couple of pots, and let [...]he one be em [...]t [...], and the other filled with water, and when Haunce is come into the Garden with his bottle of wine (now he will not let mée sée it by his good will, notwithstanding) ile obseruo well where hée doth set it downe, and then I will finde the meanes, while they are busie in toying and talking, to conuey the bottle of wine through the hedge to ti [...]e, and likewise the Uenison: then emptying the bottle, thou shalt fill it with water, and thrusting it through the hedge againe▪ it shall be set where [...]rst it was sound, which being done, thou shalt [...]astily rap at the Garden doore, at what time they shall be told that it is my Master or Mistris, which they hearing, will be in such a maze, that on a sudden they will not know which way to turne themselues, especially for the conueying away of Haunce: Now when you haue knockt twice or thrice, and that [...]ou heare no body come to the doore, [...]et you away, and stay for mee at the Rose in Barking, and there wée will drinke vp their wine, eate vp the Uenison: and this being done, wēe [...]e laugh them to s [...]orne.

Truely Nicholas, quosh John the Frenchman, this will bée braue, and thereupon they prepared themselues to doe the seat. Nicholas therefore got him into the Garden, and by and by after comes Haunce with the bottle of Wine, who knocking at the Garden doore was straight let in: but séeing Nicholas there, hee secretly set his bottle in a corner: but Nicke, who had as searching eyes as Argoes in his businesse, quickly did as before hee had determined, and in stead of wine set the bottle downe againe, where hée first found it, full of water.

Then comes John, and lustily knockt at the doore. There is our Master and Mistris (quoth Nicholas,) Alas quoth Florence, what shall wee doe for Haunce? Then rapt he at the doore againe; Alas, quoth shée, get you ouer the hedge. Shall I open the doore, quoth Nicke? O no said Florence, not yet good Nicke. With that he knoc [...]t more hastily, Anon, anon, quoth she. [...]ence Haunce: [...]oe to the doore Nicke, Who is there, quoth hée? and with that opening the doore [...]ound [...]ust no bo [...]. Truely Florence, sayd hee, they are gone whoso­euer they were. God be with you, I can stay no longer.

When hee was departed, the Maides wished that Haunce▪ had [Page] béene there againe. Alas poore fellow (quoth they) is hee gone, and left his bottle behinde him? Marry I am glad that it is no worse, quoth Florence: And now, that the wine is here, wée will drinke it for his sake, and I haue here a morsell of Uenison, that will giue it a good [...]el [...]: and therewithall looking for it, she found the cloake, but the mea [...]e gone. Now a vengeance on it (quoth [...]he) one skuruy [...]u [...]e or other hath got into the Garden, and tooke away the meate.

O God, what ill lucke is that (quoth the Maide!) a murren on th [...]t curre that got it: but seeing it is gone, farewell it. Well, sa [...] Flo­rence, here is the wine yet, [...] know it is excellent good: for hee told mee he [...] would bring a bottle of the best Renish wine that in London could be bought: and I am certaine hee is as good as his word. But beleeue mee Ioane, hee is as kin [...]-hearted, and as louing a fellow as euer professed loue to any: I assure you, that here is a cup of Wine that the King migh drinke thereof: but how shall we doe for a glasse▪ W [...]le drinke it out of the bottle, sayd Ioane. Notso (quoth Florence) I doe loue to sée what [...] drinke, and therefore Ile borrow a glasse at the next house. And while shee goes for a glasse, sayd Ioane to her selfe, Ile haue a taste of it before [...]he returnes againe: and then set­ting her hand vnto the bottle, and the bottle to her mouth, shee dranke a good draught, and finding it to bee something thinne in the going downe she sayd to Besse that sate by: Credit me now, but for the name of Wine, I haue drunke as good water. It is [...]enish Wine (quoth Besse) and that is neuer strong. It may bee made of raine well enough, quoth Ioane. At which words Florence entre [...] with a glasse: and powring it out into the glasse, she extolled the co­lour, saying: Sée what a braue colour it hath, it is as cleare I do [...] assure you as rocke-water: and therewithall drinking it off, she sayd, it drinkes very dead: Of a troth quoth shee, this is but bad Wine, it is euen as dead as a doore naile: and so [...]lling the glasse againe, [...]hee gaue it vnto Besse: the tasting thereof said: Passion of mée, this is plaine water. Water, sayd Ioane? is it water: let me taste of it once againe: by my Mayden-head it is water indeed (quoth shee) Water, sayd Florence, verily you haue pla [...]d the drabs in drinking out the wine, and filling the bottle againe with water. [...] my faith (quoth Ioane) you say not true in so saying: I would you did vn­derstand, wée playd not the [...]rabs in an▪ such sort, but Haunce ra­ther playd the [...]na [...]e that brought [...] water in stead of Wine. Nay (quoth Florence) [...] [...]are not sweare for him that hee would not serue [Page] you so. for all the wealth my Master is worth. And I am perswaded it was no body but your selues that [...] it: but in faith you might haue dealt so with another and not with mee. Nay then quoth they, you néede not to serue vs so, to cause vs drinke water in stead of wine: and wée would you should thinke, although you be Master Sheriffes Mai [...]e [...] wée loue our mouthes as well as you doe yours for your [...], and it was but an homely recompence for our goo [...] will, I tell you true: neither doe we care how little wee come to be thus de­ [...]ded. Goe to [...]e too, sa [...] Florence, you are like to [...]enelope's puppy, that doth both bi [...]e and whine, I know you well enough. Know vs (quoth oa [...]?) What doe you know by vs? wée de [...]e you for any thing you can say by vs. Know vs? Nay, it were well if thou did [...] know thy selfe, and hencest thou? though thou hast thy companions to meete thee at thy pleasure, and we haue not: no, know vs? wée are knowne to be as honest as thou a [...]t, or else we should be sorry; and to the [...]e [...]arted in a [...]hase.

Now John the Frenchman and Nicholas hauing eaten the venison, and drunke vp the wine, came backe againe time enough to heare all this [...]trife whereat they greatly re [...]oyced. But so soone as Florence did méet with Haunce againe, [...]he kept no small stirre for mocking her with a bottle of water: about the which they fell at variance, in such [...] that they were not friends for a long time after.

But during the time that Haunce was out of [...]auour, Nicholas [...]o [...]t the Ma [...]es friendship by all the meanes hée might, but in [...]ine was [...]s paines spent therein: for although Florence (out­wardly [...]med much displeased. yet Haunce had her heart still, and in processe of [...]ne obtained great fauour: the matter was growne [...]o forward▪ that the performance of their marriage was forthwith a [...]ointed, which they intended should bée celebrated at the Abbey of Grace [...] Tower Hill. Notwithstanding, this matter was not [...] so close, but that their secret dealings were knowne, and Nicho­las pu [...]o [...]ng to deceiue the Dutchman, made John Frenchman pr [...] there [...]nto, saying; John, it is so that this night at midnight [...]sse; Florence and Haunce doe intend secretly to be married, and they haue appointed the Frier to doe it so soone as the Tapers are all pu [...]out, because they will not be seene of any: Therefore John, i [...] no [...] [...] will be my friend, [...] doe not doubt but to marry her my selfe, [...] so to giue the Dutchman she [...]mpam, and [...]ore him through [...]se with a [...]. H [...] (quoth John) be G [...]t me shall doe as you [Page] sea, and therefore Nicholas tell a mée what you doe. Marry John, quoth hée, you know the Dutchman louet [...] to drinke well, and by that he loueth, wéele cause him to lose his Loue, [...]or we will get him out to the [...]uerne, and there cause him to be disguised, that hée shall neither be able to stand nor goe; and while hee lies parbreaking his minde▪ Ile goe and marry the Maide. The Frenchman hearing this, scratcht his head, and rubbing his elbow, sayd, Ma [...]foy, Nicho­las, [...]s be de f [...]ne tricke: how shall wée get him forth adoores? Excellent well, quoth Nicholas, for there is a new [...]ourney man come to Towne with Sir Hughes bones at his backe, and you know, that wée being of the Gentle Craft, must goe giue him his welcome, and I will tell Haunce thereof, who being now very [...]ocund, by reason that his marriage is so néere, will not deny to come, I know. Therefore you and the strange Iourney-man shall goe before to the Tauerne, and then I will goe fetch him. Ab [...]ene, content, content said John.

And so to the Tauerne hee hasted with the strange man. Anone comes Nicholas and Haunce, and with them two or thrée Iourney­men more, and all to the new Iourney-man: sitting downe, they get Haunce. in the midst, called for wine lustily, and such varieties, us the Dutchman was soone set packing, for euery one sought to ouer­charge him, and being himselfe of a good kinde to take his liquor, spared not to pledge euery man. At what time in the midst of his cups, being well whitled, his tongue ran at randome (as wine is the bewrayer of secrets) so it proued by him, for there he opened to his companions all his whole minde, saying, My hearts, for all I sit here, I must bée a married man ere morning. God giue you ioy (quoth they) but who shall you marry, sayd Nicke, Florence? Yea, Florence, sayd the Dutchman, that is the Lasse that I doe loue, and all the world cannot deceiue mee of her now, I am the man that must haue her Maidenhead, and this night wée must bée married at the Abbey of Grace; and if you be good fellowes, goe with me to Church, will yo [...] goe with me? Will we ge [...] with thée? (sayd John Frenchman) that we will. O John (said Haunce) haue wiped your nose, and Nickes too, you must weare the willow Garland. Well, what remedy (quoth they) it is the better for you: but in faith Haunce, séeing it is so (quoth Nicke) wéele haue one [...]ottle of wine more, that wée may drinke to the health of your faire Bride. Ile pledge her if it be a gallon (quoth Haunce.) Be my set and trot, said John, wéele ha [...]e [...] [Page] gallon. Hea Drawer, where be you? I pray you bring me agallo [...] of the best Claret, and a gallon of de best Seck, shall make merry I set: what Florence bee merry and I no know? [...]ut by the time this Wine was drunke, Haunce was layd vp for walking any more that night. When Nicke perceiued that, he stole suddenly out of the Tanerne, and went to meete Florence at the appointed place: but Iohn quickly missing him, knew straight whereabout he went, got [...]n presently to th [...] Constable of the [...]osterne Gate, and told him, that Nicke had layd a man for dead in Tower stréet, and that he was gone to saue himselfe vnder the prfu [...]ledge of the Abbey of Grace, but (quoth he▪ if you will goe along, I shall bring him out with faire words vnto you, and then I desire you to clap him vp to answer this matter in the morning. But where dwell you, said the Con­stable? I doe dwell with Master Alderman Eyer (quoth Iohn) and there you shall haue mee at all times, The Constable did as Iohn bade him, and committed Nicholas to prison. In the meane space, Florence, and an old woman of Tower stréete, sayd that they did goe to a womans labour, and by that meanes they passed along by the Watch, and to the Abbey of Grace they came. They had not long beene there, but that Iohn Frenchman méeting them, sayd; Florence, well met, here is a fit place to finish that I haue long looked for: Iohn (quoth [...]he) thou art like an euill spirit that must bée contured out before a body shall get any quietnesse, vrge not me vp­on any such matters, for you be not the man I looke for, and there­fore, as taking little pleasure in your presence, as of your proffers; I would be very glad to sée your backe. What sayd Iohn, haue you no compassion vpon a poore man? you be hard hearted indeed. But as hee was vttering these speeches, it was his wifes chance to heare his [...]on [...]ue, being newly come from the Barge at Billingsgate, and at that time going towards Saint Katharines, to sée if shée could mée te with some of her Country folkes, that could tell her any tidings of her husband, but as I sayd, hearing his tongue, and knowing him by his speech, she sayd, What, Iohn Denevale? my husband Iohn Dene­vale? What make you wed pretty wence hea? At which words Iohn was stricken into such a dump, that hee wist not what to say: notwithstanding, hearing Florence to aske if shee was his wife hée answered and sayd, Yea. O thou dissembling fellow, quoth shée, it is [...]uen so: Didst thou say thou wast a Batcheller; séeking to marry me, and hast a wife aliue? now [...]e on thée: O good Lord, how was I [Page] ble [...] to e [...]ape him? nay, now I sée, that Haunce may haue a wife [...] Flaunders too, although he be here: and therefore by the grace of God, I will not marry a stranger. O (quoth John) I thought my wife had béene dead, but seeing [...]he is aliue, I will not lose her for twenty thou­sand crownes. So Florence departed, and left John with his wife.

Now, Haunce neuer waking vntill it was next day at noone; wh [...]r [...] he saw he had ouers [...]ept himselfe, being very sorry, hee went home, not knowing how to excuse his folly to Florence, whom shée now vs­terly forsóoke, as well in regard of his drunkennesse as for that be­ing a stranger, he might (like John Frenchman) haue another wife liuing, But Nicholas (that all this while lay in prison) being brought before Alderman Eyer, rehearted the truth, and crauing pardon for his offence, was without more adoe deliuered. And Florence being cal­led before him, hee made vp the match betwéene her and his man Ni­cholas, marrying them out of his house with great credit, giuing them a good stocke to begin the world withall: also for John Frenchman dee did very much, and shewed himselfe a good Master to his man Haunce, and to all the rest of his seruants.

CHAP. XVI.

How Master Alderman Eyre was chosen Lord Mayor of London, and and how he feasted all the Prentices on Shrove-tuesday.

VVIthin a few yeares after Alderman Eyre being [...]ha [...]en Lord Ma [...]or of London, changing his coppy, he became one of the Worshipfull Company of Drayers, and for this yéere he kept a mo [...] be [...]ntifull house. At this time it came into his minde what a pro­mise once hee made to the Prentices, being at breakfast with them at their going to the Con [...]uit, speaking to his Lady in this wife. [...]oo [...] Lord quoth hee) what a chance haue wée had within these thirty yéeres? And how greatly hath the Lord blessed vs [...]uce that? blessed [...]e his Name for it.

I d [...]e remember, when I was a young Prentice, what a match I made vpon a Shroue▪ tuesday morning, [...]ein [...] at the Canduit among other of my companions; trust me wise (quoth he) 'tis worth the hea­rin [...], and Ile tell thee how it f [...]ll out.

After wee had filled out. Tankards with water, there was some would néedes haue mee set downe my Tankard, a [...] go [...] with them [Page] [...]o breakefast (as many times before I had done) to which I consen­ted: and it was a breakefast of Pudding pies. I shall neuer forget it: But to make short, when the shot came to be payd, each one drew out his money, but I had not one penny in my purse, and credit I had none in the place; which when I behe [...]d, being a [...]ashed, I said; Well my Masters, doe you giue me my breakfast this time; and in requitall thereof, if euer I be Mayor of London, Ile bestow a break­fast on all the prentizes of the City: these were the words, little thinking (God wot) that euer it should come to passe: but such was the great goodnesse of our God, who setteth vp the humble, and pul­leth downe [...]he proud, to bring whom he pleaseth to the seat of honour. For, as the Scripture witnesseth, Promotion commeth neither from the East nor from the West, but from him that is the giver of all good things, the mighty Lord of Heaven and Earth: Wherefore wife séeing God bath bestowed that vpon me that I neuer looked for; it [...]s reason that I should performe my promise: and being able now, Ile pay that which then I was not able to doe: for & would not haue men say that I am like the Ebon tree, that neither beares leaues nor fruit. Wherefore wife, séeing that Shrone. Tuesday is so neare at hand, I will vpon that day fulfill my promise: which vpon that day I made. Truely (my Lord) quoth thee, I will be right willing thereunto. Then answered my Lord, as thou doest loue mée, let them lacke neither Pudding p [...]es nor Pancakes, and looke what other good cheare is to be had, I will referre all to your discretion. Here­upon great prouision was made for the Prentizes breakefast: and Shrouetuesday being come, the Lord Mayor sent word to the Alder­men, that in their seuerall Wards they should signifie his minde to the Citizens, to [...]ra [...]e their fauours that their Prentizes might come to his house to breakefast, and that for his sake they might play all the day after.

Hereupon it was ordered, that at the ringing of a Bell in euery Parish, the Prentizes should leaue worke and shut vp their shops for that day, which being euer since yéerely obserued, it is called the Pancake bell. The prentizes being all assembled my Lord Mayors house was not able to hold them, they were such a multitude: so that besides the great [...]all, all the gardens were set with Tables, an [...] [...] the backeside Tables were set, and euery other spare place was al­so furnished: so that at length the Prentiz [...]s were all placed, and while [...]ea [...]e was bringing in, to delight their e [...]res, as well as to [Page] [...]éede their bodies, and to drowne the noise of their pra [...]lings, Drums and Trumpets were pleasantly sounded: that being ended, the Waits of the City, with diuers other sorts of mu [...]cke played also to begutle the time, and to put off all discontent.

After the first seruice, were all the Tables pleutifully furnished with [...]udding-p [...]e [...] and Pancakes, in very plentifull manner; and the rest that remained was giuen to the poore. Wine and Ale in very great measure they had giuen, insomuch that they had no lacke, nor [...]xcesse to cause them to bee [...]isordered. And [...]u the middest of this their merriment, the Lord & a or in his scarlet gowne, and his Lady in like manner went in amongst them, bidding them all most heart [...]ly welcome, saying vnto them, that his promise so long agoe made, hée hath at length performed. At what time they (in token of thankful­nesse) slung vp their Caps, giuing a great shout, and incontinently they all quietly departed.

Then after this, Sir Simon Eyer builded Leaden-Hall, appointing that in the middest thereof there should bée a Market place kept euery Monday for Leather, where the Shoomakers of London, for their more ease, might buy of the [...]anners, without séeking any further. And in the end, this worthy man ended his life in London with great Honour.

FINIS.
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