AFter this Newes of Battails, death and desolation, between the Par­liaments Forces, and the Cavaleers being to our sorrow on both sides, fought at Keynton, many be­ing slaine, which formerly you have heard, but rot the totall true­ly, let me write nought but the truth of one that escaped, and such a truth, that false­hood cannot blemish, this Souldier having gotten after the Battaile in pillaging the dead bodies a Bag of money and comming to Warwicke wounded, he went, to the House of ROBERT STONE a small Inne at the signe of the Anchor, where he was forced to rest untill by the helpe of the Chirurgian hee might recover his strength, and having been there before, he thought none more sufficient then his Hostis in credit and secrecy, and therefore he delivered into her custody this Bag of mo­ney; within a Fortnight after recevering his health and strength, he required to receive his Bag againe, it grieved his, unhonest Hostesse to part from so great a Prize, ther­fore she entered into a serious and earnest resolution with her Husband what shift they might find to detaine [Page 4]the said bagg of money, her unhapy husband being be­yond all conscience of that Iudgment that too many be of now a dayes, that whatsoever by open proofe of Law cannot bee won is their owne gotten goods, hee giveth his Wife counsell to deny the receit of the said bagge or money, his Hostesse denyed it, how could the Soul­dier proove it? Marke the boldnesse of a wicked Wo­man? she seemed to wonder at the Souldier, that hee could be so impudent for to aske at her hands that which she avouched she never received, in this ease she raileth at him, and revileth him as farre as the uttermost of her vaine Rethoricke could stretch; the Souldier, as com­monly they are allowed to be somewhat more bold, then other men, objecteth against her there upon false­hood, for that contrary to her faith, shee forswore the trueth against her conscience, her Husband a principall in this perjury, as if it were to defend his wifes honesty with violence thrusteth the Souldier out of doores, the Souldier bold in Warre ab [...]oad, at home thought in a good quarrell he might be more bolder, and rather chose to lose his life then money; the whole recompence of his lives adventure, he stoutly drew his sword, vowing he would either lose his [...]ife, or have his money; and breakes with too much hast his Hostisses house to re­enter, alledging that where his goods are there he may safely be: The Host pleadeth an action of Burglary, and maketh an open cry for help unto his Neighbours, with violence forced an number of Officers to carry him as an open Malefactor unto the Goale. The Common Counsell according to the intimation of the Fact are a­greed deliberately what Iudgement to give; when pub­lique Iudgment shall be craved; Agreed it was by most voyces, that the Souldier should be condemned.

The Devill, who now is very busie; who knowes some things by permission; in some forme on fashion commeth to the Prison unto the Prisoner: and to wi [...]e the more credit he telleth him what judgement the Bench would pronounce, unlesse he tooke good [...] and dealt wise­ly, [Page 5]and as he fain would have some Testimony against man: he perswadeth the souldier to worke him a free deliverance from all his trouble, if he would give him his soule to hire, nay sayth the souldier being undanted and having a just cause, I had rather yet loose my life then my soule, well said the Devill, though I get nothing of thee as a reward, yet will I deliver thee, so that thou be ruled by me, follow therefore said he these instructions, when thou shalt be brought before the Bench, plead for thy selfe Ignorance, desire to have an Attourney, chuse mee to debate thy cause, by these noates thou shalt know me, by a Red Cap and a Feather? the Souldier easily granted to use his counsell.

The Sessions is holden, the Souldier is brought forth as a Malefactor, the Host pleadeth the death of the Souldier, the Souldier useth the Counsell of his un­happy advocate.

Licence he craveth that the Gentleman in the red Cap and feather might plead for him: Leave is granted forth comes the Devill, and like a skilfull Lawyer, he maketh this Caution.

The Souldier not guilty, is not to be condem­ned, for from the Souldier grew no cause of strife, the Host by violence thrust the Souldier out of the Doores, an open and manifest Crime.

Give me leave and Authority to search the House, I dare promise and will undertake without any further strife, to finde the Bagg of money: So shall the Host be Guilty, and the Souldier shall be of this aspertich plainly cleered.

The Host hearing these words, and being astoni­shed at the same, for he remembring of his quiet dwel­ling by his good Neighbours, and now bearing in his mind, how that he is standing now upon his credit, or discredit for ever; and as the Devill would have him, added many blasphemous Oathes that he by no meanes knew of any such money.

And for confirmation of his Faith made by Oath, hee requireth, as the custom of swearers is, vengance at Gods hands, yet he swore falsely I would quoth he, the Devill would fetch me away now presently Body and soule before you all, if I sweare unsustly; which terrible words, when this Host had twice repeated, this deviilish Lawyer, or this lawfull Devill, left the cause, and snactht his Body according to the vengance he desired of Gods hand of this perjured Host, and carried him forth visibly over the Market place, so that his Body was never since seene againe: Nothing being left behind, but a terrible stinke as a witnesse what an uncleane spirit, had carried away such an uncleane Person: The Bench being all amazed risse; the Hostesse hearing of this unhappy disaster, confest the Fact, and restored the money to the Soul­dier.

That this is truth, the time is set downe, the place, the Authors name, the Souldier now remayning and living in Warwicke.

IN Coventry, within twelve Miles of War­wicke, one Richard Boad being in league with a maid, a Mercers daughter dwelling by the Crosse, her name Anne Kirke, a con­tract past between them, he being in this troublesome times bent to the Warres, came to her to take his leave, and to remember her former vowes and promises, she vowed and protested she would never marry any man but him, if he survived this Battaile, he desi [...]ed to have witnesse to those words, though hee had none to the contract, shee answered him, that she would not have her name divulged, nor brought in question, but this she on her knees d [...]d sweare in private to him [...], and desired him to take that for a reall satisfacti­ [...]n and called God to witnesse. That if she ever made a [...]romise to any other in his absence, or thought of Mar­ [...]age, unlesse with him? That the same day she was Married, that the Devill might fetch her, and have no pitty nor compassion but take her away, when she pro­ved false in thought, or deed; they thus parted with ma­ny Protestations and weeping teares: He to fight for the King and Parliament; She to remaine at Coventry, his trusty and tru [...] joy, and all his delight. The Battle at Keynton being done, and he not hurt, he got leave of his Captaine on a Sunday morning, being then at War­wicke to ride to Coventry to see this false prejured Mayd, when he thither came being noone, inquiring at the end of the City of this Maid, his onely joy, and most delight? Answer was made, she was this day Marned: which strucke such a terrour to this young mans Heart, [Page 8]that for a time he [...] amazed, because he was con [...] ­ted to her, but that was not all, but he remembred the imprecation and the wish shee made at his departure, that the same day that she was married, unlesse to him, if he were living, that the Devill might fetch her away, and have no pitty nor compassion on her, the young Sol­dier being grieved lay downe on a Bed, and sent one as the order is to know when they were at their dancing there, for to take a view of this falce periured Bride, the the time being come, thither he went secure unknowne to any, the Chamber being full with Musicke and Vir­gin danceing to the joy of the Nuptials, the Bride pas­sing by, he tooke her by the hand, and said, oh thou falce faire one hast thou broke thy Vowe, she then replyed, a rash Vowe is either broke or kept, where is your wit­nesse; just at that instant two Gentlemen being alight­ed at the doore all in blacke came up into the room and desired being there was a Wedding, mirth, and dancing, that one of them might have a dance with the Bride, she gladly entertained it, in the dance, the other stand­ing by fell in at last, they tooke her up and away th [...]y carried her, they in the roome ran after; but no newes could they heare of the falcd perjured Bride, they ran [...]e into the fields there being still an noyse in the ayre, at last the two Gentlemen in blacke came to them, with the Brides garments and said take these againe, we have power over her, but no power over her Cloathes, then her Sweet-heart the souldier related to them the whole passage of her perjury.