THE l [...]uely Maidens of the Citty of West­minster, noting what a good a husband Ri­chard Casteler was and seéing how diligent­ly hée followed his businesse, judged in the end hée would prove a rich man: for which cause many bore vnto him very good affecti­on, & few there was that wished not them­selves to be his wife: insomuch that he hauing the custome of all the pretty Wenches in the Citty, by that meanes knew the length of every Maidens foot so well, that he about all other best pleased them: On the Sundayes when he came into the Church, the Maides eyes were so firmely fired on him, that hée could nei­ther looke forward, backeward, nor on any side, but that he should be sure to haue a winke of one, a smile of another the third would give a nod: and to be briefe, they would all cast on him such gracious lookes, that it was easie to guesse by their outward countenance, their inward good will.

And when in his Holy-dayes attire he past along the stréets, the Maidens (after their businesse was done) standing at their Masters doores and spying him, would say thus one to another: Now verily there goes a proper civill young man, wise & thrifty: yea such a one as in time will prove wondrous weal hy, and without all doubt, will come to great credit & preferment these and the like words would they vse of him continually, where­by he had among them such a [...]enerall good opinion, that as he stood a dayes at his cutting boord, he should be sure to haue twenty cursies made him in an houre, by Maidens that past up and downe: some would bestow on him dainty [Page] sweetnosegayes, of the fairest flowers they could find, and other some would bring him handkerchers of Cambrick, and divers such like favours, well bew [...]aying their friendship towards him.

But among many that secretly affected him, I will onely tell of twaine, because aboue all the rest, their merriments doe onely remaine in memorie, the one of them was called Margaret, of the spread-Eagle, but more commonly knowne by the name of long Meg of Westminster: The other was a proper neat wench named Gillian of the George, both of them as wily as they were witty, who among all the Maides in Westminster were re­pused to be the best servants; having therefore good wages, they maintained themselues gallantly, and therwithall so honestly, that no man could quip them with bad liuing, though af­terward it fell out otherwise, as in this historie you shall heare.

Margaret was a maiden borne in Lancashire, in height and proportion of body, passing the ordinary stature of women, but there-withall very comely, and of amiable countenance, her strength was agréeable to her stature and her courage as great as them both: she was of a quicke capacitie, and pleasant dispositi­on, of a liberall heart, and such a one as would be sodainely an­gry, and soone pleased, being readier to revenge her wrongs by weapons, then by words: and therein did shée differ from the na­ture of other women, because shée could not abide much brabling: and so hée [...]full was shée of her behaviour in her yonger yéeres, that her good properties far excéeding her portion, she was woo [...]d by divers, but would be won by none, for the man whom shée most loved, least thought upon her. And albeit shée manifested her good will by divers meanes, yet did Richard little regard it, having his mind nothing bent vnto marriage, by meanes where­of Margaret grew into such sad conceits as changed her chery chéekes into a gréene wan countenance: in-somuch that euery one wondred to sée her pensiuenes.

At last it chanced that Margaret having occasion to go into London, it was her good fortune to méet with Gillian of the George, whom her mistres had sent thither to buy Comfets, and Carawayes, with divers other swéet meates, for that they had a banket bespoken by divers gallant Courtiers, which that night [Page] poin [...]ed to come thither: but so soone as Margaret spied her, she smi­led, saying: Gillian now in good sadnes welmet, (if thou béest met a maid) and ill met (quoth shée) not méeting so good a maid as my selfe: Tush said Margaret; it is good for vs to thinke well of our selves, for there is enough that think ill of vs: mary I defie them quoth Gillian that thinks ill of me, and I respect as little their spéech, as they do my profit. For a woman with a good life, feares no man with an evill tung: If you bee so hot quoth Margaret where the wind blows so cold, what will you be by that time supper is ready, where the fire will be as fierce as your choller is great? and mistake mee not good Gillian, though I said men think ill of vs, I meane not thereby that any goe a­bout so blemish our good names, but I suppose they thinke not so wel of vs as they might do that doe not love vs so well as to mar­ry vs.

Nay said Gillian if that be all, I am at a good point; for though my maiden-head be some what burdensom to beare, yet I had ra­ther kéepe it, then bestow it on a bad husband: but though I say it, though I be but a poore wench, I have choise of husbands en­ough, and such as I am assured in my conscience, would both love me well, and kéepe me gallantly. Wherefore then doe you not marry quoth Margaret? in my opinion it is the most plea­singst life that may be, when a woman shall have her husband come home and speake in this sort vnto her. How now Wife? how dost thou my swéet-heart? what wilt thou have? or what dost thou la [...]ke? and therewithall kindly embracing her, gives her a gentle kisse, saying: speake my prettie mouse, wilt thou have a cup of Claret-wine, White-wine, or Sacke to supp [...]r? and then perhaps he carues vnto her the leg of a Capon, or the wing of a Chicken, and if there be one bit better then other, shée h [...]th the choise of it: And if she chance to long for any thing by and by it is sent for with all possible spéed, and nothing is thought too deare to doe her good At last having well refresh themselues she sets her siluer whistle to her mouth, and calles her maid to cleare the boord: then going to the fire, he sets her on his knée, and wantonly stroking her cheeke, amourously bee chockes her under the chin, fetching many stealing foutches at her rubie lips, [Page] and so soone as he heares the Bell ring eight a clocke, he calles her to goe to bed with him. O how swéet doe these words sound in a womans eares? But when they are once close betwéene a paire of shéetes, O Gillian then, then: why what of that quoth she? Nay nothing saith Margaret, but they sléep soundly all night. Truly quoth Gillian there be many wiues, but few that méete with such kind husbands: but séeing you aske me why I marry not, in troth Meg I would tell thée, if I had time to stay: but I I feare I have stood too long pratling here already, and therefore farewell good Meg, when I sée thée againe, thou shalt know more of my mind.

Nay Gillian heare you quoth she, go but a little way with me, and I will goe home with you as straight as a line, for I haue nothing to buy but a score of Quinces, and couple of Pomegra­nets, and that shall be done in a trice: Gillian was contented for her good companies sake to stay a while, and as soone as Margaret had made her market, they settled themselues to goe homeward, where by the way Gillian entred into this communication.

You did euen now demand a question of me, and very desirous you were to know why I did not marry when I was so well offered: Trust me Margaret, I take you to be my friend, which makes me the more willing to vnfold my fancy, being as well perswaded of your secresie as I am of your amity, and there-upon I am the more willing to make you copartner of my counsailes. Fire in straw will not be hidden, and the flames of affection wil burst for that length, though it be long kept vnder. And truth it is that I haue forsaken good matches, for I might haue had Ma­ster Cornelius of the Guard if I would, who as you know is wealthy, and therwithall of very good conuersation, yet there was one thing made me refuse his kind offer: what was that quoth Margaret. I pray thée tell? Quoth she, he loved not me so well but I loued another tenne times better, and therefore it is not good for handes to joyne, where hearts agrée not. No Meg, no, there is a youth in our stréet that nearer touches my heart and better pleases my mind, notwithstanding he shall go name­lesse, for it is an old prouerb, two may kéep counsell if one be a­way. Nay then quoth Meg, if you dare not trust me tell no-further, [Page] notwithstanding I have had credit in as great matters as yours, for many a man hath put his life in my hands, & found no hurt thereby, and as many women have commited their se­crets to me, as men have ventured their bodies with me. Go to Margaret, you are disposed to iest said Gillian, but sweare by thy Maidenhead that thou wilt never bewray my liking, nor pre­vent me in my love, & I will shew thée all: nay fie do not so quoth Margaret, shew not all for shame, least more sée it then my selfe, for so may they blush at thy boldnes, and nothing commend thy modesty: but it is happy that I have a maidenhead left to sweare by: else I perceiue I should know nothing of thée: no trust me quoth Gillian, for such a one as cannot kéepe her Maidenhead, wil neuer kéep a secret, and that made Katherine of the Crane to be such a blab: but now Meg I will procéed to the matter. What doe you thinke by Richard of the Rose, the wakeful cock of West­minster?

Oh h [...] quoth Meg, is that the man? there is no reason I should thinke amisse of him that euery man commends: neuerthelesse, he is no body in respect of riches, being but a yong housekéeper of one yeares standing, a man God wot vnacquainted with the worlds guise, and to speake truth nothing comparable to Master Corne­lius. I will tell thée what quoth Gillian, that man which néedeth neither to flatter with his friends, nor borrow of his neighbours, hath riche [...] sufficient: and hée is most poore that hath least wit, by which arguments I am able to proove, that the Cock is as weal­thy as he is wary, for he will sure be beholding to no body, or to as few as he may, and it is al wayes to be noted that men of such mindes doe never prove beggers.

Margaret hearing Gillian so stoutly to take Richards part, per­ceiued by her vehement spéches the great affection she bore to him, and finding that she was sick of her owne disease, Margaret sought means to remoue the cause of her griefe, & thereby thrust her selfe into the greater sorrow: And the policy she vsed most herein, was to speak altogether in Richards dispraise, séeking thereb [...] to dislodge her love, and the more firmely to plant her owne, whereupon she vttered her mind in this sort.

Well Gillian, séeing you beare so good an opinion of Richard of [Page] the Rose, I would not for a bushel of Angels séek to disswade you: but because you request my opinion how I like the man, in troth I will tell thée my mind without fraud or flattory: I con­fesse that Richard is a gentle young man, curteous and kind, dili­gent about his businesse, and wary in his dealings, which argues good husb [...]ndry. Notwithstanding, I like not these ouer coue­tous fellowes, of such gréedy mindes, such penny fathers, and pinchf [...]stes, that will not part from the paring of their nailes, nor the dropping of their nose, if they thought it would yéeld them but the fourth part of a farthing. Tell me I pray thée what ioy should a woman haue with such a churle, that would grudge at every halfe-penny that is laid out that in a whole yeare would not leaue a farthing worth of mustard vnwritten in his booke: And such a one I feare will this Cocke prove, for me thinkes hée lookes with a hungry nose, and h [...]wsoeuer you think of him, I know not, but I verily feare though hee be a Cocke by name, hée will never prove a Cock of the game. Againe he is but a dwarfe in respect of a man, a shrimpe, a Wren, a hop of my thumbe, such a one as a body might hide in a wrinkle of their buttocks.

Well Meg quoth shée, you are priuiledged to speake your plea­sure, but should another thus mistearme him, I would teare her face: I tell thée true I had rather haue a winner then a waster, a sparer then a prodigall spender: for when a man in his youth, hath gotten something with paine, he may the better spend it in his age with pleasure, and farre better it is hée should be thought couetous, then carelesse; his stature and proportion of body plea­ses me well enough, for it is no matter how great hée is, but how good hee is.

But Margaret séeing our talk hath indured so long, that it hath brought vs both home, let vs at our parting be mindfull of our promises, to kéepe secret whatsoeuer hath been said, for little knowes the young man the depth of my mind, and therefore would I kéepe it close, till I saw some signe of good will procée­ding from him, for it becommeth not maidens to be woers, though willingly they could wish to wed where they best fancie, and so farewell swéet Margaret. Adue gentle Gillian quoth Mar­garet, vntill our next méeting, when I hope I shall further vnder­stand [Page] of your procéedings in your loue.

When Meg had thus vnderstood her mind, and saw how she matter went, she sought all meanes possible to preuenther, as hereafter shall be shewen.

IT chanced that against Whitsontide, Margaret stood in néed of a new paire of Shooes: Therefore in a morning betimes she came to Richard of the Rose to bespeake them aforehand, and the more to de­clare her kindnes, and to win his good will, she carried with her a bottle of excellent good Muskadine, which one of the Yeomen of the Kings wine seller had bestowed upon her: and to make it relish the better, she carried with her a dainty péece of powdred béefe, and the tender carkasse of a cold Capon, and thus plesantly began to gréet him. All health to the kind cocke of Westminster, that with the Larke gréetes the Sun rising with a chéerefull note, and mounts aboue many to the loue of pretty lasses. Tell me quoth she thou bouny Lad, wilt thou take the length of my foote, and make me a good payre of shooes against Sunday? that I will Margaret quoth he, therefore let me sée thy foote: there is both my foote and leg said Meg, I am not ashamed to shew either of them, for I am not legged like a Crane, nor footed like a Flie, and therewith lift up her cloathes to the knée, whereat Richard smiling said; a little higher Meg and shew all: whereupon she sodainly replied in this sort: soft Richard not so, for I will tell thée one thing.

Good reason quoth Richard, leaue is light, which being obtai­ned a man may be bold without offence, but this onely is my griefe. I haue neuer a Last in my shop long enough for thy foot: then I would they were all fired quoth Meg. He that will be counted a good workman must haue fooles to fit all persons and I muse that you which strive to be counted excellent, will want necessaries: Fie Richard fie, thou shouldest neuer be vnprouided especially for women.

Well Meg quoth he, be contented, consider you are a woman of no ordinary making, but as in height thou ouerlookest all, so in the length of thy foot thou surpassest all; therefore I must haue a paire of Lasts made for the nonce, and that shall be done out of hand: I tell thee Dicke quoth shée, as high as I am, I am not so high as Paules nor is my foot so long as Graus-end Barge. Not­withstanding quoth Richard, a paire of Lasts to fit thy foot will cost as much as a hundred of fagots which will not be bought vnder ten groats: if they cost a crown quoth Meg, let me haue them; what man rather then I will goe without shooes I will beare the charge th [...]reof my selfe and in token that I mean troth, take there the money, thou shalt find me no Crinkler, but one that will reward cunning to the vttermost: I loue not to pinch for a peny, or stand upon tearmes for two pence, if I find my shooes good I will not shrinke for a shilling; In troth quoth Ri­chard franke customers are worthy of good ware, and therefore Meg doubt not, for thou shalt haue as good a shoe as euer was drawne upon womans foote, God a mercy for that sweet Dicke quoth shee, and séeing thou saist so, I will bestow this bottle of wine on thee to breakfast, beside that, I haue brought here a modscome that will proue as good a shooing-horne to drawe downe a cup of Muskadine as may be: and therewithall shee pluckt out her powdred beefe and her colde Capon; Richard seeing this, with thankes to Margaret for her meat, reacht out a couple of ioyne stooles, and after that they had laid a cloth thereon, they downe did sit, at which time many merry spéeches did passe betwéene them. And at that very time there was in the same shoppe, amongst a great many other men a plea­sant [Page] iorney man called round Robin, being a wel trust fellow short and thicke, yet very actiue and pleasantly conceited: for sing­ing hée was held in high reputation among all the Shoomakers in Westminster, and he would scant speake any thing but in rime. This iolly companion séeing them bent so well to their breakfast, and nothing at all to respect him, in the place where he sate cast out these merry spéeches vnto them.

With that Margaret filling a cup brim full, gaue it into his hand saying: Now tast it Robin and take there the cup. Nay hang me quoth Robin if I drinke it not up.

By my Maiden-head quoth Margaret, I sée that thou art a good fellow: and to haue thée drinke it up, is the thing that I craue.

Now by my honesty quoth Meg you doe me mighty wrong to [Page] thinke so ill of me: for though indéed I confesse, I cannot excuse my selfe, for women are not Angels, though they haue Angels aces: for to sp [...]ake the truth might I haue had my owne hearts desire when time was, I would rather haue chosen to lye with a man then a maid, but such merry motions were out of my mind many a déere day agoe, and now I vow that a maiden I will die.

Nay quoth Margaret your Master scornes me, he kéeps all his gownes for Gillian of the George: a pretty wench I confesse, hauing a proper body but a bad leg, she hath a very good counteance but an ill coulour, and you talk of desire, but her desire I doubt will bring her the gréene sicknesse, if your master like a good Phisition giue her not a medicine against that malady: why Mar­garet quoth Richard, hath she told you so much of her mind, that you know her griefe so well? It may be she hath quoth Margaret, but whether she did or no, it is sufficient that I know so much: But I thinke quoth Margaret you are not so besotted to make any account of a Tallow cake.

Certainly quoth Richard, which is the best or worst I know not yet, nor doe I meane hastily to prove; and as Gillian of the George, as she hath no reason to hate me, so she hath no cause to loue me: but if she doe, it is more favour then I did euer merit at her hand, and surely were it but in regard of her good will, I am not to scorne her nor for her favour to féed her with floutes, but for her good thoughts of me to think well of her, though not so well as to make her my wife: Well said Master, quoth Robin.

Trust me quoth Margaret, I speake not this so much to disgrace [Page] Gillian, as for the regard I haue to your credit: but to make an end of Gillian and this iest altogether, let me entreat you soone at night to come to our house; and thinke this, though your chéere chance to be small your welcome shall be great. I know that this Summer (and especially against these holy-daies) you will worke till ten, and I promise you by eleuen I will haue as good a posset for you, as euer you did taste on in your life. My master is an old man, and he commonly goes to bed at nine, and as for my mistris, I know where she will be safe till midnight masse be ended, so that for an houre we may be as merry as pope Iohn: what say you Richard quoth she, will you come? In troth Marga­ret quoth he, I heartily thank you for your good will, I would willingly come but I loue not to be from home so late.

Robin said he, thou art so full of thy rime, that often thou, art without reason; thou séest that Margaret hath béen at cost with vs to day, and it is more then good manners to charge her further, before we haue made amends for this: and beside that late walk­ing in the euening brings young men into much suspition. Tush quoth Margaret, once and vse it not, is not such a matter: there­fore swéet Richard you shall come, and you shall not say me nay, therefore I charge you on paine of displeasure not to faile, and forget not to bring round Robin with you, and so farewell.

Who bad thee quoth Margaret?

Why then I pray thée good Robin said Meg, do not forget in any case, and put thy Master in mind thereof if he should chance to change his opinion, or ouerslip the time through gréedines of work for I faith Robin if thou bring him along with thée, I will thinke the better of thée while I liue: why then quoth he.

Now Margaret was no sooner gone, and Richard at his cut­ting boord, and Robin set on his stoole, but in comes Gillian of the George, bringing in her aporne the corner of a Venison Pastie, and a good deale of a Lambe pye, who with a smyling countenance entring the shop, bidding Richard good morrow, askt if he had broke his fast? yes verily quoth Richard I thank long Meg, we haue béene at it this morning, and had you come a little sooner you had found her héere, for she went away but euen now, and I verily thinke she is scant at home yet.

Gillian hearing Robin to enter into Megs commendations, be­gan to grow iealous of the matter: out upon her foule stammell quoth she, he that takes her to his wife shall be sure of flesh en­ough, let him get bread where he can: tis such a bold betrice, she will acquaint her selfe with euery bodie. Notwithstanding this I will tell you Richard, the lesse she comes in your company, the more it will befor your credit. And howsoever shee deserues it, God knowes, I cannot accuse her, but I promise you she hath but a hard report among many. But letting her rest as she is, sée here what I haue brought you, and with that she gaue him the Venison and the rest, and drawing her purse, she would needs send for a quart of wine, Richard sought to perswade her to the contrary, but she would not be intreated; what man quoth she, I am able to giue you a quart of wine. That's spoke like an Angell quoth Robin.

Hereupon the wine was fetcht, and so they sate them downe to their meate, at what time they fed not so heartily on the Venison pasty, but Gillians eye fed as gréedily on Richards faour: & as soone as the wine was come, she plucktout of her pocket a good péece of sugar, & filling a glasse of wine tempered wel therwith, she drank to him saying: here Richard to all that loue you and me, but espe­cially to him whom I loue best: let it come quoth Richard, I will pledge him whosoeuer it be.

Then Gillian looking round about spoke to this effect: verily Richard héere is a pretty house, and every thing hansome by Saint Anne, I sée nothing wanting but a good wise to kéep all things in his due kind: whereunto Robin made this answer.

Who I? alas quoth she, your Master scornes me, he looks for a golden girle, or a girle with gold, that might bring him the red ruddocks thinking in a bag, and yet possible he were better to have one with lesse money, and more huswifery: for my owne part I thanke God, and in a good time may I speake it, I would not come to learne of never a woman in Westminster, how to deale in such affaires: I thinke no lesse quoth Richard, and there­fore I pray God send you a good husband, and one well deser­ving so good a wife: with that Gillian fetcht a great sigh, saying; Amen I pray God, for it is a sinfull thing to leade a sinfull life, except: Nay, say your mind, speake your mind quoth Richard: Why quoth she? it is written, that we shall giue an account for every idle word, and that ill thoughts are as bad as wanton déeds: it is true quoth Rich rd, then God helpe vs all quoth Gillian, but if I were married, I should remove a great many of them. Why then marry me quoth Robin, and thereby prevent the perill of bad thoughts: harke in thy eare Robin quoth she, I would thy Ma­ster would say as much and then he should soone know my mind.

Why what is the matter quoth Richard? nay nothing quoth Gillian, but that I was bold to jest with your man, and I hope you will not be offended if he and I talke a word or two. There is no reason I should quoth Richard, and therefore conferre at your pleasure, and the whilest I will be busie with the Lambe pye, then Gillian rounding Robin in the eare, spoke in this sort vnto him. I perceiue you can spie day at a little hole: you may sée Robin, love is like an vnruly streame that will over-flow the banks if the course be once stopt, as by my spéeches no doubt you have noted: neuerthelesse how forcible soeuer fancy is, it is thought small modesty in a maiden to lay open her heart in those [Page] cases, but I am of opinion that affection growing as strong in a woman as a man, they ought to haue equall priv [...]ledge, as well as men to speake their minds. Robi [...], I take thee to be an honest fellow, and it is the part of a man in cases of honest love to as­sist poore maidens: counsell the key of certainty, which makes me to require bo [...]h thy counsaile and help In truth Robin to be [...]laine, I love thy Master with all my heart: and if thou wouldst be so much my friend to break the matter vnto him and therewithall to procure his good liking to me, I would bestow on thée as good a sute of apparell as euer thou wast m [...]ster of in thy life: wherevnto Robin answered, saying,

There it is quoth Gillian and I doe protest, that upon that bles­sed day, when h [...] gives his happy consent to be my husband, at the deliuery of thy apparell I will make that one kisse twenty, and hereupon shaking hands, they came to the tabl [...] and set them downe againe. Richard marking all, said nothing, but at her approach to the boord tooke the glasse and drunk to her, giuing her thankes for her cost and kindnes: she gladly accepting the same, bending her body in stead of cursie, tooke it at his hands, and with a winke drunk vnto Robi [...], and so taking her leave of them both as light as a Doe she ran spéedily ho [...].

So soone as she was gone, Robin told his Master it was the pleasantest life in the world to live a Batcheler, during which time he could neither want good chéere nor good comp [...]ny: I ma­ry quoth Richard, but what I get one way I spend another way, while I passe the time in trifling about nothing: you sée quoth he, here is a forenoone spent to no purpose, and all by the m [...]ans of a couple of giglets, that haue greater desire to be playing with a man, then to be mindfull to follow their busines: but if I liue I will sodainly avoid both their delights and their loues. I tell thee Robin, I account their favours full of frawd, and their intice­ments daungerous, and therefore a man must not be won with faire words as a fish with a baite.

Well Master quoth Robin, all is one to me, whether you love them or loath, but yet soone at night let not the posset be for got.

Beleeve me quoth Richard, if I rest in the mind I am in now, I meane not to be there at all. O then you will loose her love, quoth Robin for euer and euer Amen: that, said his Master is the onely thing that I request, for the love of a shroe is like the shadow of a cloude that consumeth as soone as it is séene, and such love had I rather loose then find.

Verily quoth his Master, if thou wilt doe so, I wil be Megs guest for this once, and happy shall I thinke my self to be so well rid of them: Hereupon being resolved, they plyde their worke hard till the euening, and when the Sunne was crept under the earth, and the Stars up in the skies, Richard having his shop window shut in and his doores made fast, he with his man Ro­bin, tooke their direct way to the spread Eagle, where they no sooner knockt at the doore, but Margaret came downe and let them in, with such a chéerefull countenance, as gave perfect testimony of their welcome. Now Richard quoth she, I will witnesse you are a man of your word, and a man that hath a re­spect of his promise: I pray you hartily come néere, for to have you come in my office, is my desire: but tell vs first quoth Robin, was your office never a fire? Y faith no quoth she, you sée the kitchin is large and the chimney wide: but how many rookes quoth Robin, hath the goodnes of your kitchin tride? I know not said Meg, how many or how few: trust me quoth Robin I thinke euen so. Goe to quoth Meg, I smell out your knauery, and guesse at your meaning, but taking it to be spoken more for mirth, then for malice, I let them passe. Then taking Richard by [Page] the hand, she had him sit downe saying, good Richard think your selfe welcome, for in froth I have neuer a friend in the world that can be better welcome: I thank you good Magaret said he.

Why Robin q. Meg, be not offended for thou art welcome to mee, I faith quoth he, you bid me welcome when you haue nothing else to do.

Herewithall Margaret very neately laying the cloth, with all things necessary, set a dainty minst pie on the boord piping hote, with a great deale of other good chéere, and having sent another maid of the house for a pottle of wine, they fell to their meat mer­rily, whereof when they had eaten and drunk, Margaret stepping from the boord went to reach the posset, but while she had it in her hands she sodainly heard one comming down the stairs: Gods pre­cious quoth she, my Mastercomes, what shift shall we make to hide the posset, if he chance to sée it, we shall have more anger then ten possets are worth with that she quickly whipt into she yard, and set the posset downe upon the seat in the privy-house, thinking it there safest out of sight, for her Master being an old crabbed fellow, would often steale downe to sée what his maids were a doing, but God wot that was not the cause; for the old man being raised by the loosenes of his body, came hastily downe to pay tribute to Aiax, where when he was come, he clapt his buttocks into the posset, where with being grieuously scalded, he cried out saying, alacke, alacke, help maids, help, or I am spoild for euer; for some spirit or divell in the foule bottome of the pri­uie hath throwne up boyling leade upon my buttocks and in this case like one dauncing the trench more he stampt up and downe the yard, holding his hips in his hands: Meg that better knew what the matter was then her master, ran into the house of of­fice with a spit in her hand, as if she had béene purposed to broch the divell, and there casting the well spiced posset into the midst of the puddle taking the bason away, said, how now Master, what is the matter, who hath hurt you, or are you not hurt at all? Hurt quoth her master, I fell thee Meg, neuer was man thus hurt, and yet I am ashamed to shew my hurt: bring [Page] me a Candle quoth Meg, I tell you Master, it is better all should be shewen, then all should be spoyled: and there with ca­sting by his shirt, spied both his great chéekes full of small bli­sters, whereupon she was faine with all possible spéed to make him a medicine with sallet oyle and houseléeks, to asswage the fury of an vnséene fire. And by meanes of this vnhappy chance, Richard with his man was faine secretly to slip away, and to goe home without tasting the posset at all: which was to Robin no small griefe, and yet they could both of them scant stand for laughing, to thinke how odly this, least fell out.

His master answering said, beleeue me Robin, I neuer knew she like in my life, but by the grace of God I will neuer goe there no more to eate a posset: and so going to bed they slept a­way sorrow till morning. At what time Margaret comming thither told them she was very sorie they were so suddenly broke from their banket; but Y faith Richard (quoth she) another time shall make amends for all.

RIchard Casteler liuing a long time a Batchelor in Westminster, after many good proffers made vnto him, refusing all hee at last linked his loue to a young Dutch maiden dwelling in London, who besides that, was of proper personage, and comely countenance, and could doe diuers pretty feates to get her owne living To this pretty soule went Richard secretly a wooing, who for halfe a yeare set as light by him, as hée did by the Maidens of Westminster, And the more hée was denyed, the more desirous is hee was to seeke her good will, much like to an vnruly patient, that most longes after the meate hee is most forbidden: [Page] and such is the fury of fond Lovers, to estéeme them most pre­cious, that are to them most pernitious: he scornfully shunnes such as gently séekes him, and wooes her earnestly that shakes him off frowardly: but while he was thus busied to make him­selfe blessed by matching with a Mayden in London, round Ro­bin cast in his mind how to set the Maydens wittes a worke in Westminster, which he effected as occasion was offred in this sort.

Margaret and Gillian comming often by the shop, cast many a shéepes eye to spye out their beloued friend, and after they had many times mist him from his busines, they thought either that he was growne love-sick or lazie: but knowing him a man to be mightily addicted to the getting of money, judged that it was not idlenes, that withdrew him from his busines, but rather that he was gone a wooing to one pretty wench or other, for loving hearts have euer suspicious heades and iealousie is copart­ner with affection: whereupon Margaret entred into these spee­ches with round Robin.

I muse much quoth Meg, where pour Master layes his knife a boord now adayes, for seldome or never can I sée him in his shop: trust me, I doubt, he is become thriftles, and will prove but a bad husband in the end: tell me Robin said she, I pray thee say where doth the Cocke crow now?

Margaret hearing round Robin rime to so good purpose, asked if hee knew his Masters minde so much? truly, quoth shée, if I wist he bore any spark of love toward me, it should neither goe vnregarded nor vnrewarded, therefore swéet Robin let me know whereupon thou speakest; feare not my secrecie, for I will rather loose my life then bewray his love. Héereupon Ro­bin said, that his Master was very well affected towards her, and that if it were not that Gillian of the George did cast search­ing eyes into his actions, he would long ere this h [...]ve vttred his mind: but quoth Robin, he is so haunted by that female spirit, [Page] that he can take no rest in no place for her, and therefore the more to quiet his mind, he hath left his shop to my charg, and be­taken himselfe to wander the Woods so wild.

These words vttered by Robin made Margarets heart leape in her belly: wherefore taking gently her leave of him, she thus began to meditate on the master: Now doe I well sée that the tongue of a wise man is in his heart, but the heart of a foole is in his tongue: and Richard quo h she, hast thou borne me such secret good will and would neuer let me know it? Iwis, Iwis, soone would thy sorrow be asswaged if thou soughtest remedie at my hand: well though the fire be long supprest, at length it will burst into a flame and Richards secret good will, at last will shew it selfe, till when I will rest my selfe conten­ted, thinking it sufficient that I know he loves me: and séeing it is so, I will make him sue and serve, and daunce atten­dance after me: when he is most curteous, I will be most [...]y, and as it were scorning his proffers, and shunning his presence, I will make him the more earnest to intreat my favour: when he sayes he loves me, I will laugh at him, and say he canfaine and flatter well: if he affirme he be grieued through my disdaine, and that the lacke of my good wil hath béen his greatest sorrow, I will say alas good soule, how long have you béen love-sick? pluck out thy heart man and be of good chéere, there is more maids then Malkin: though I doe lightly estéeme thee there are some that perhaps will better regard both thy griefe, and thy good will: and therefore good Dicke trouble me no more.

Thus must maides dissemble least they be counted too curte­ous and shewing themselvs ouer fond, become the lesse favoured, for a womans love being hardly obtained, is estéemed most swéet, therefore we must giue our lovers an hundred denials for fashion sake, though at the first we could find in our hearts to accept their proffered pleasures.

Thus in a jolly humor Margaret letted home, flattering her selfe in her happy fortune, in which delight we will leave her, and make some rehearsall of Gillians ioy: who comming in the like manner to Robin, asking for his Master, was certified by him, that for her sake onely he lived in such sorrow, that he [Page] could not stay in his shop, and therfore was faine to driue away melancholy by marching abroad. O Gillian (quoth he) had it not bin for two causes, he would long ere this haue vttered his mind vnto thée, for he loues thée aboue measure: Y faith, quoth Gillian, is it true (Robin) that thou dost tell me? Doubt not of that (quoth he) doe you think that I will tell you a lye? I should gaine nothing by that I am sure: if then you will beléeue me you may, if not chuse, I meane not to intreat you there [...]o: Nay good Robin (quoth she) be not angry, though I credit thy spéeches, yet blame me not to aske a question, aske what you will quoth Ro­bin, I respect it not, and I may chuse whether I will answere you or no: Swounds, now I haue opened my masters secret, you were best blab it through all the towne. Nay good Robin that is not my mind quoth Gillian, but I beséech thée, let me know those two causes that kéepes thy Master from vttering his mind: Nay soft, there lay a straw for feare of stumbling quoth Robin, hold your peace Gillian, it is not good to eate too much hony, nor to gorge you with too much gladnes: let it suf­fice that you know what you know. Nay good swéet Robin quoth she, I pray thée make it not dainty now to tell me all, sée­ing you haue begun: the day may come that I may requite thy curtesie to the full: Say you so, Gillian quoth hée? now by good Crispianus soule I sweare, were it not that I am in hope you will prove kind to my Master, and be a good Mistresse to vs when you are married, I would not vtter one word more, no not halfe a word, nor one sillable. Well Robin quoth she if euer I come to command in thy masters house, and to carry the keys of his Cubberts gingling at my sides, thou shalt sée I will not kéepe a niggards Table, to haue bare platters brought from the boord, but you shall haue meate and drinke plenty, and be vsed as men ought to be vsed in all reasonable manner. And whereas you séeme to make doubt of my kindnesse toward thy Master ha Robin, I would thou knewest my heart.

Robin hearing this, told her this tale, that his master loved her intyrely, and would long since haue vttered his mind, but for two reasons: the first was, that he could never find fit opor­tunity to doe it, because of Long Meg, whose loue to him was [Page] more then he could wish, and such as he would gladly remove if he might: for saith Robin, though my Master do not care a straw for her, yet she casts such a vigilant eye upon him, that if he do but speake, or looke upon any, she by and by poutes and lowres, and many times inveyes against the parties with dis­gracefull termes, which is to my Master such a griefe, that he is faine to kéepe silent, what otherwise should be shown: and the second reason is this, that because he is not so wealthy as he could wish himselfe, you would disdaine his sute, and make no account of his good will. Who I quoth Gillian? now by these ten bones it was never my mind to say him nay. I tell thée Ro­bin I doe more respect his kindnes then his goods: he is a pro­per youth and well conditioned, and it is far better to have a man without money, then money without a man. Why then good Gillian quoth Robin, harken hither thrée dayes hence, and you shall heare more, but in the meane space looke you play mum budget, and speake not a word of this matter to any crea­ture. I warrant thée Robin quoth she, and so away she went be­ing as glad of this tydings as her Master was of a good Term: Now when his Master came home, his man Robin asked him how he sped in his suit? verily quoth he, even as Cookes doe in baking of their pies, sometimes well, sometimes ill. London Maids are wily wenches: on Sunday my swéet-heart was halfe won, but now I doubt she is wholy lost. Now she is in one mind, by and by in another, and to be briefe never stedfast in any thing.

Tush Master quoth Robin, stoop not too much to a thistle, but take this comfort, that what one will not another will: I tel you Master, Crabs yéeldes nothing but ve [...]juice, a sower sauce good [...]or digestion but bad to the taste, and these nice minions are so full of curiosity, that they are cleane without curtesie: Yet well fare the gallant girles of Westminster, that will doe more for a man then he will doe for himselfe. What is that said his Master? mary quoth he, get him a wife ere he is aware, and give two kisses before he calles for one. Th [...]t indéed is extraor­dinary kindnes quoth Richard, but their loves are like brai [...]ed wares, which are often showne, but hardly sold.

Well Master quoth Robin, you know your two old friends Meg and Gillian: I, what of them quoth Richard? Introth quoth he, I have made them both so proud, that they pr [...]nce through the stréets like the Kings great horses: for I have made them both beléeue that you love them out of all cry. And I beshroe thy heart for that quosh Richard, for therein thou dost both d [...]ceive them, and discredit mée: I assure thée I like not such je [...]ting.

Richard hearing his man so hot, pacified him with many cold and gentle spéeches, wishing if he had begun any jest, that he should finish it with such discretion, that no reproach might grow thereby unto him, and then he would be content: where­upon Robin procéeded in this sort.

Vpon a time Margaret according to her wonted manner came thither, whom Robin perswaded that his Master was newly gone into Tuttle field, and that he left word if she came she should doe so much as to méet him there: but quoth he, take héed in any case least Gillian of the George spie you, and so follow to the place where my Master attends your comming, who I dare sweare would not for all the Shooes in his shop it should be so: and therefore good Margaret if you chance to sée her, goe not forward in any case, but rather lead her a contrary way, or make some queint excuse, that she may leave your company, and not suspect your pretence. Tush quoth Margaret, let me alone for that, if she follow me she were better no, for I faith I will lead her a dance shall make her weary before she have done, and yet shall she goe home as very a foole as she came forth, for any goodnesse she gets at my hand: and therefore farewell Robin quoth she, for I will trudge into Tuttle fields as fast as I may.

But looke quoth Robin, you loose not your Maiden-head by the way.

Robin presently thereupon runnes unto Gillian, saying what chéere Gillian, how goes the world with all the pretty wenches [Page] here? it is a long while since I have séene you.

I faith Robin quoth they, we rub out with the rest, but what is the news with thée?

And with that (rounding her in the eare) he told her that in­continent it was his Masters mind that she should méet him in Tuttle fields, charging her if she met Margaret of the Crane, that she should in no case goe forward, but turne her steps some other way, for quoth he, my Master cannot abide that great rounsefull should come in his company.

For that let me alone quoth Gillian, but trust me Robin, it could not have come in a worse time this twelve moneth, for this day have we a mighty deale of worke to doe, beside a great bucke that is to be washt: why then let it rest till another time quoth Robin: nay quoth she, hap what hap will, I will goe to him, sith so kindly he sent for me; and thereupon making her selfe quickly ready, into Tuttle fields she got, where at last she espied Margaret with a hand-basket in her hand, who as sodainly had got a sight of her, and therefore made a shew as if she gathe­red hearbs in the field. I wis that craft shall not serue your turne quoth Gillian, I will gather hearbs as fast as you, though I have as little néed of them as your selfe.

But in the mean time Robin got him home, and hartily laught to sée what paines these wenches tooke for a husband. O quoth he, what a merry world is this, when Maids runnes a madding for hu [...]bands, with hand-baskets in their hands? now may I well sweare what I have séene.

Then how can men for shame say that Maidens are proud, disdainfull or coy, when we find them so gentle, that they will run to a man like a Falcon to the Lure, but alas poore soules, as good were they to séek for a néedle in a bottle of hay, as to search for Richard of the Rose in Tuttle fields: but hereby doe I know [Page] their minds against another time, if my Master should chance to request their company.

Thus did round Robin deride them when he found their fond­nes to be such: but to leave him to his humor, we will returne to the Maids that were so busie in picking up hearbs in the fields: wh [...]n Meg saw that Gillian would not away at last she came unto her, asking what she made there? Nay what doe you here quoth she? for my owne [...]art I was sent for to séeke Harts-ease, but I can find nothing bu [...] sorrel: Alack good soule quoth M g, and I come to gather thrift but can light on nothing but thistles, and therefore I will get m [...] waies home as fast as I can: In doing so you shall doe well quoth G [...]llian, but I mean to get some Harts ease ere I goe away: Nay Gillian quoth she, I am sure I shall find thrift as soone as you shall find Harts-ease, but I promise you I am out of hope to find any to day, I pray you get you gone then quoth she, what would you so faine be rid of my company quoth Meg? for that word I meane not to be gone yet: I faith Gill I smell a rat.

Then quoth she you have as good a nose as our gray Cat: but what rat do you smell tell me? I doubt I doubt if there be any rat in the field, you would faine catch him in your trap if you knew how; but I faith Meg you shall be deceived as cunning as you are. Then belike qd. Meg you would not have the rat taste no chéese but your owne: all is one for that said Gillian, but wheresoever he run I would have him créep into no corner of yours: Your wordes are mysticall quoth Meg. but if thou art a good wench, let us goe home together: not so said Gillian, as I came not with you, so I meane not to goe with you.

No quoth Meg? before God I sweare I will stay as long as thou for thy life. In troth quoth she, I will make you stay till midnight then. Yea quoth Meg? now as sure as I live I will try that. And in this humor sometimes they sat them downe, and sometimes they stalkt round about the field, till it was darke night, and so late, that at last the watch met with them, who contrary to Gillians mind, tooke paines to bring them home both together: at what time they gave one another such privie flouts, that the watchmen tooke no little delight to heare [Page] it: But their Mistresses that had so long mist them from home though they were very angry with their long absence. yet were glad they were come againe. And asking where they had been so long, the watch-men answered, that the one had béene to seeke Harts-ease, and the other to gather thrift and therefo [...]e that they should not blame them for staying so long to get such good commodities: Verily quoth their Mistresses we will not, for no maruell if they stayed out till midnight about such matters, séeing we have sought it this seven yeares and could never find it: and in this sort this jest ended.

Within a while after this, Richard through his long woing, had gotten the good will of his swéet-heart, and therefore ma­king all things ready for his marriage, the mat [...]er being known through Westminster, Margaret and Gillian, had tydings there­of with the soonest, who comming unto Richard said he was the most false and unconstant man in the world. Have I quoth Meg, set my whole mind upon thée to bée thus served? Nay quoth Gillian, have I loved thée so déerly, and indured such sorrow for thy sake, to be thus unkindly cast off? And I q [...]oth Meg. that never thought any thing too much for thee, that loved thée bet [...]er then my life, that was at all times ready at thy call, and ready to run or goe at thy commandement to be so [...]ndeservedly for­saken, grieves not my heart a little: Nay quoth Gil [...]ian could you make me leave my worke to waite upon th [...] in Tut [...]le-fields? Nay did I waite there halfe a day together quoth Meg, at thy request to be thus mockt at th [...] hand? Now I wish it from my heart, if thou marriest any but me, that thy [...]ife may make thée as errant a Cuckold as [...]ack Coomes. So you [...]re very charitable quoth Richard, to wish me no worse then [...]ou meane to make your husband: but when did I req [...]est th [...]e to come into Tuttle-fields? What have you so weake a memo [...]y quoth she? I pray you aske your m [...]n round Robin wrether it were so or no: Well quoth Robin how then? wherefore did you no [...] speake with him at that present?

A vengeance take her quoth Meg I could not mée [...]e him for [Page] Gillian. And I could not méet him for Margaret, a mor in take her [...]d Gillian. Richard perceiving by their spéech there was a pad lying in the straw, made this reply. It is a strange thing to see how you will blame me of discourtesie, when the whole fault lyes in your selves: had you come at the appointed time, it is likely I had marryed one of you, séeing my minde was as well addicted to the one as to the other: Why may it not be yet quoth they, if it please you? not so said Richard, you speake too late, men gather no grapes in Ianuary, my wine is alrea­dy provided, and my wife prepared: therefore I thanke you both of your good wills, though I be constrained of force to for­sake you the maidens being herewith struck into their dumps, with water in their eyes, and griefe in their hearts went home, to whom Robin carryed two Willow garlands, saying.

Meg being merily inclined, shooke off sorrow in this sort, and gently taking the willow Garland, said: wherefore is griefe good? can it recall folly past? no: can it helpe a matter reme­dilesse? no: can it restore losses, or draw us out of danger? no: what then? can griefe make unkind men curteous? no: can it bring long life? no: for it doth rather hasten our death, what then can it do: can it call our friends out of their graves? no: can it restore virginity if we chance to lose our maiden­head? no: Then wherefore should I grieve? except I went to kill my selfe: Nay séeing it is so, hang sorrow, I will never care for them that care not for me, and therefore a Figge for the Cocke of Westminster: by this good day I am glad I have scapt him, for I doe now consider I should have never tooke rest after foure a clocke in the morning, and alas a young married wife would be loath to rise before eight or nine: beside that I should never have gone to bed before ten or eleven, or twelve a clocke at night by that meanes, what a deale of time should I have lost about other women: have him quoth you? now God blesse me, I sweare by Venus, the faire goddesse of swéet love, in t [...] minde I am in, I would not have him, if he had so much [Page] as would lie in Westminster Hall. And therefore Robin this Willow garland is to me right heartily welcome and I will goe with thée to Gillian presently, and thou shalt sée us weare them rather in triu [...]ph, then in timerous feare. Well said in good sadnes, quoth Robin thou art the gallantest girle that ever I knew. But when she came to Gillian, Robin staid for her at the staire foot: they found her sicke in her bed, fetching many sore sighes, to whom Margaret spake in this manner. Why how now Gillian, what sicke a bed? now fle for shame, plucke up a good heart woman, let no man triumph so much over thée, to say thou gavest the Crow a pudding, because love would let thée live no longer: he content quoth she, and take courage to thée, death is a sowre crabbed fellow.

Ah no quoth Gillian, death is swéet to them that live in sor­row, and to none should he be better welcome then to me, who desires nothing more then death to end my miseries: What now quoth Margaret, whose Mare is dead? art thou a young wenc [...], faire and comely, and dost thou despaire of life? and all for love, and all for love. O fond foole worthy to weare a coate with foure elbowes, this were enough if there were no more men in the world but one, but if there were two, why shouldst thou languish, much lesse knowing there is so many to he had. O quoth Gillian, what is all the men in the world to me now I have lost Richard whose love was my life. I pray thée rise quoth Meg, and let us go drinke a quart of Sacke to wash sorrow from our hearts. O quoth shée, I cannot rise if you would give me a hundred pound, nor will I rise for any mans pleasure: what quoth Meg, if your father sent for you, would you not goe to him? No quoth she: would you not goe to your mother? no: but what if your brethren requested you to rise? Y faith I would not quoth she: say that some of the Kings Gen­tlemen intreated your company? never prate, I would not goe to the best Lord in the Landqd. Gillian, nor to no man els in the world: No quoth Meg, I am sute you would. Quoth she if I doe, say I am an errant queane, and count me the verleit drab that ever trod on two shooes. Nay quoth Meg, séeing you say so, I have done, I was about to tell you of a matt, but I [Page] sée it is to small purpose, and therefore Ile kéep my breath to coole my pottage.

A matter said Gillian? what matter is it swéet Meg tell me? N [...], no quoth she, it is in vaine, I would wish you to couer your selfe close, and kéepe your selfe warme, least you catch an ague, and so good night Gillian. Nay but Meg quoth she, good Meg if ever thou didst love me, let me know what this matter is that you speake of, for I shall not be in quiet till I know it: tush tis but a trifle, a trifle quoth Meg, not worth the talke: your swéet heart Richard, hath sent his man Robin for you, and as he tels me he hath a token to deliuer you. What quoth Gill, is that true? Where is Robin? why comes he not up, truly quoth Meg, he counts it more then manners to presse into a Maides chamber▪ beside he would be loath to give any cause of suspition to any of your fellowes, to thinke Ill of him or you, for now a dayes the world is growne to such a passe, that if a Maide doe but looke merrily upon a young man, they will say straight, that either she shall be his wife, or that she is his harlot: but if they sée a man come into a womans chamber, they will not sticke to sweare that they have béen naught together; for which cause Robin intreated me to come unto you, and to certifie you that hée stayed at the thrée-Tunnes for your comming: but séeing you are a bed I am sorry I have troubled you so much, and therefore farewell good Gillian.

O stay a little good Meg quoth she, and I will goe along with you and with that on she slipt her petticoate, and made such hast in dressing her selfe, that she would not stay the plucking on of her stockings nor the drawing on of her shooes: why how now Gillian quoth Meg, have you forgot your selfe? remember you are Ill and sicke a bed: Tush quoth shée I am well enough now: but if you goe foorth to night you are an arrant drab, and a very queane quoth Meg: Tush tis no matter for that, said Gillian, griefe hath two tongues, to say, and to unsay, and there­fore I respect not what you prate, and therewithall shée ran downe the stayres after Margaret, who got Robin to goe before to the thrée Tunnes, where when Gillian came, she asked him how his Master did, and what his errand was to her.

You speak merrily, quoth Margaret, whatsoever you meane, but I would I could sée the wine come once, that I may drink a hearty draught; for sorrow they say is dry, & I find it to be true.

Thus when they had whipt off two or thrée quarts of wine, Gillian began to grow as pleasant as the best, and would néeds know of Robin, what it was he had to say to her; nothing quoth he, but to doe my Masters commendation, and to deliver you his token. This token, quoth Gillian? What, a Willow gar­land? is the matter so plaine? is this the best reward hee can give me for all my good will; had he no body to flout but mée? Yes by my faith, quoth Meg, it was his minde that I should beare you company, therefore, looke what he sent to you, he did the like to mée, and that thou maiest the better believe me, sée where it is.

O intollerable iniury, quoth Gillian, did I take paines to rise and come out of my warme bed for this? O how unfortunate have I béene above all other in the world? Well, séeing I can­not recall what is past, I will take this as a iust penance for my too much folly; and if Margaret will agrée, we will weare these disdainfull branches on his marriage day to his great dis­grace, though to our continuall sorrow: content quoth Meg, all is one to mée, looke what thou wilt allow, I will not dislike, and so paying the shot, away they went.

At length, when the marriage day was come, and that the Bride; in the middest of her friends was set downe to dinner, Margaret and Gillian attyred in red Stammell petticoats, with white linnen sléeves, and fine Holland Aprons, having their Willow garlands on their heads, entred into the Hall singing this song:

Their song being thus ended, the Bride said she was heartily sorry for their hard fortune in love, greatly blaming the Bride­groom for his unkindnes; Nay, do not so, quoth Meg, for you shal find him kind enough soon at night: but séeing he hath disappoin­ted me in this sort, it shall go hard, but I will make shift to lose my maiden-head as soone as you shall lose yours, and you shall make good haste, but I wil be before you. O God, quoth she, have [Page] I béen so chary to kéep my honesty, and so dainty of my maiden-head, that I could spare it no man for the love I bore so hard-hearted Richard, & hath he serv'd me thus? Well Gillian quoth she, let us go, never wil I be so tide in affection to one man again while I live; what a deale of time have I lost and spent to no purpose since I came to London? and how many kinde offers have I forsaken, & disdainfully refused of many brave Gentle­men, that would have bin glad of my good will? I thinke I was accurst to come into his company: Well, I say little, but hence forward, hang me if I refuse reason when I am reasonably in­treated; trust me, I would not for a good thing, that my friends in the country should know, that one of my ripe age, bone & big­nesse hath all this while liv'd in London idly, like an unprofita­ble member of the cōmon-wealth; but if I live, they shall heare that I will be better imploy'd, and so adue good Gillian. Thus Margaret in a melancholy humor went her waies, and in short time after she forsooke Westminster, & attended on the Kings ar­my to Bullio, and while the siege lasted, became a landresse to the Camp, and never after did she set store by her selfe, but became common to the call of every man, till such time as all youthfull delights was banished by old age, and in the end she left her life in Islington, being very penitent for all her former offences. Gillian in the end was well married, and became a very good house-kéeper, living in honest name and same til her dying day.

THe Kings Maiesty having royally won the strong town of Bullen, victoriously he retur­ned & came into England, and according to his accustomed manner, lying at his Palace of Whitehall, divers of the Nobility passing up and down Westminster, did many times heare the Shoomakers iournymen singing; whose swéet voyces and pleasant songs was so pleasing in the eares of the hearers, that it caused them to stay about the [...]oore to hearken thereunto: Robin above the rest, declared such cun­ning [Page] in his song, that he ever obtained the chiefest praise; and no marvell, for his skill in pricksong was more then ordinary, for which cause the Singing-men of the Abbey did often call him into the Quire. Now you shall understand, that by their often singing in the Shop, the iourneymen of that house were noted above all the men in Westminster, and the report of their singing went far and néer, in so much that at the last, the Kings Maiesty had knowledge thereof, who hearing them so greatly commended, caused them to be sent for to the Court. Where­upon round Robin and his foure fellows made themselves rea­dy, and their Master being of a good mind, against the day that they should goe before our King, he suted them all at his owne proper cost, in doublets and hose of crimson Ta [...]ety, with black Velvet caps on their heads, and white feathers; on their legs they had fine yellow stockings, pumps and pantofles on their féet: by their sides each of them wore a faire sword; and in this sort being brought before his Maiesty, upon their knées they craved pardon for presuming to come into his royall presence: The King séeing them to be such proper men, & attyred in such Gentleman-like manner, bad them stand up: Why my Lords, quoth he, be these the merry minded Shoomakers you spake of? they are most dread Soveraigne, said they; certainly, said our King, you are welcome every one, but who among you is round Robin?

How now Robin (said our King) What, canst thou rime?

His Grace laughing heartily at this pleasant companion, told him that he heard say he could sing well.

Hereupon the King sate him downe, where many great Lords & Ladies of high estate attended on his Highnesse. And being in the Christmas time, after the master of merry disports [Page] had performed all his appointed pastimes, Robin, with his fel­lowes had liberty to declare their cunning before our King, but the Maiesty of his Princely presence did so amate them, that they were quite dash'd out of countenance, which his Grace perceiving, gave them many gracious words of encourage­ment, whereupon they began in this sort, singing a song of the winning of Bullen.

Their song being ended, our King east them a purse with fif­ty faire angells for a reward, commending both their skill and good voyces, and after much pleasant communication, they had liberty to depart; and when they came home, they told to their Master, all their marriment before the King, and what reward his Grace had bestowed on them; and powring the gold downe upon the Table, the same being truly told by their Master, eve­ry mans share came iust to five pound a piece. Which, when round Robin saw, he swore he would bestow a supper upon his Master and Mistresse that night, though it cost him two angels; which his fellowes hearing, and séeing Robins liberall heart to be such, said, they would ioyne with him, and laying their mo­ney together, would have all the Shoomakers in VVestminster to beare them company.

This being concluded, they met all together at the signe of the Bell, where they were so merry as might be, at what time Robin began to blame his Master, that had not in thrée yéeres space gotten his Mistresse with childe. Hold thy peace quoth he, all this while I haue but iested, but when I fall once in earnest, thou shalt sée her belly will rise like a Tun of new Ale: thou know'st I am the Cocke of VVestminster.

The company at this laugh'd heartily, but seven yéeres after this iest was remembred; for in all that space had not his wife any child: Wherefore Robin would often say, that either [Page] his Master was no perfect man, or else his Mistresse was in her infancy nourished with the milk of a Mule, which bred such bar­rennesse in her; for till her dying day she never had child. And after they had lived together, many yéeres, at last, Richard Ca­steler dyed, and at his death he did divers good and godly déeds: among many other things he gave to the City of Westminster, a worthy gift to the cherishing of the poore inhabitants for ever. He also gave toward the reliefe of the poore fatherlesse children of Christs Hosp [...]tall in London, to the value of forty pound land by the yéere; and in the whole course of his life he was a very bountifull man to all the decayed housekéepers of that place, leaving behind him a worthy example for other men to follow.

MVch about this time, there lived in London a rich Shoomaker, and a gallant housekéeper; who being a brave man of person, bore a mind agréeable there­unto, and was therefore of most men called lusty Peachey: hee kept all the yéere forty tall men on worke beside Prentises, and every one hee clothed in tawny coats, which he gave as his livery to them, all with black caps and yellow feathers; and every Sunday and holiday, when this gentleman-like Citizen went to Church in his black gown garded with Velvet, it was his order to have all his men in their liveries to wait upon him, with every man his sword and buckler, ready at any time, if néed required.

It came to passe upon S. Georges day, that this iolly Shooma­ker (being servant to the Duke of Suffolk) went to the Court with all his men after him, to give attendance upon his noble Master, which some yong Gentlemen more wanton than wise, beholding & envying his gallant mind, devised how they might picke some quarrell, thereby to have occasion to try his man­hood: quoth they, did you ever know a shoomaker, a sowter, a cobling companion, brave it so with the best, as this fellow [Page] doth? sée with what a train of hardie squires he goes, what squa­ring lads they be they look as if they would fight with Gargan­tua, and make a fray with the great Turk, and yet I durst lay my life they dare scantly kill a Hedgehog: mark him I pray, I warrant you there is never a Knight in this countrey that goes with so great a train. Swounes, quoth one, it were a good sport to draw, & try what they can do. My Masters be advised quoth another, and attempt nothing rashly: I tell you this fellow is a hardy Coine, he is currant mettley-faith, and whensoever you try him, ile warrant you shall finde he will not flie a foot. With that comes by lusty Tom Stuteley, and Strangwidge, two gallant Sea Captaines, who were attired all in Crimson Vel­vet, in Marriners wide stops that reacht to the foot, in watch­ed silk thrumb hats and white feathers, having Pages attend­ing with their weapons, who séeing a cluster of Gentlemen in hard communication at the Court gate, askt what was the matter? Marry Captaine quoth they, we are all beholding to yonder lusty Gallant, that hath so many waiting on him with Tawny Coats: Sblood, what is he, quoth Stu [...]eley? he séemes to be a gallant man said Stra [...]gwidge, whatsoever he be: and were it not I see him in the Duke of Suffolks liverie, I should have taken him by his train to be some Lord at the least: Nay quoth Stuteley, he is some Knight of good living. Gentlemen quoth they, how your iudgements deceive you: it is certaine he is as good a Shooemaker as any is in Fléetstreet. What? is he but a Shooemaker quoth Stuteley? O how that word makes me scratch my elbo: Can a Shooemaker come to the Court with more Servingmen at his héeles [...]hen Captaine S [...]uteley? see how it makes my blood rise: O the passion of my heart, how the villaine squares it out? sée, sée, what a company of hand­some fellowes follow him, it is twenty pound to a penny but they were better borne then their Master: not so quoth the Gentlem [...]n, but I think their birth and bringing up was much alike, for they be all Shooemakers & his stoole companions: now by this iron and steell quoth Stuteley, were it not that he is attendant on the good Duke, I would have him by the eares presently. I will lay an hundred pound, and stake it dow [...] [Page] straight, that Captaine Strangwidge and I will beat him and all his forty men. The Gentlemen being ready to set this match forward, greatly commended the Captaines high cou­rage: notwithstanding they would not hazard their money on such a desperate match. Well Gentlemen quoth they, you say he dwels in Fléet street, and that he is a Shoomaker, never trust us more if we become not his customers, but the crossest customers shall he finde us that ever came to his shop for shoo [...]s. Nay quoth Stuteley, we will bespeak Boots of him, & thus we will raise our quarrell: when they are made, if they come not [...]n easie, and sit on our legs neatly, we will make them pluck them off againe, & presently we will beat them in péeces about his pate, which if he séeme to take in dudgin, and with his men follow us into the street for revenge, if we make them not leap before us like Monkies, and force them run away like shéep­biters, let us lose our credits and Captainships for ever.

But what if you should chance to kill any of them said the Gentlemen: swounes quoth they what care we, we are bound to sea on a gallant voyage, wherein the King hath no small venture, and without us it cannot go forward, so that it is not the death of twenty men can stay us at home, and therefore when they should be séeking of us in Fléetstréet, we would be séeking out the Coast of Florida.

You say well Captaines quoth they, and no doubt if you do any such thing we shall heare of it: for the report thereof will be famous through London. Within a while after S [...]uteley and Strangwidge, having thus determined, came into Fleetstréet, and making inquiry for Peachies shop, they were by every man directed to the house: where, when they were come, they called for the good man of the house: the foreman of the shop demanded what their will was? why knave quoth they, what carest thou, let us speak with thy Master. Gentlemen quoth he, if you lack any such commodity as we make, you shall finde [...]e sufficient to serv [...] you, for to that end hath my Master set me in the shop. Why Iack-sauce quoth Stuteley, you whorson peasant, know you to whom you speak?

The fellow being very chfleeick, and somewhat displeased [Page] at these disdainfull speeches, made him this round answer: ask you to whom I speak quoth he? I goodman flat cap said Strang­w [...]dge, we ask to whom you speak? sir quoth he, I speak to a Velvet soole, a silken slave that knowes not how to governe his tongue: with that Stuteley swore like a mad man and present­ly drew out a dudgin haft dagger that he had by his side, and be­gan to lay at the fellow, which one of his fellowes séeing, flung a Last at his head and feld him to the ground: S rangwidge thereupon drew his sword, but by that time the fellow had took downe his sword and buckler, which hung in the shop hard at hand, and therewith so well defended himselfe, that S [...]rang­widge could do him no hurt: and by that time Stuteley recove­ring crald up againe.

But Peachie hearing a great hurly burly in the shop, came forth and demanded the cause of the quarrell? his servants told him that those Gentlemen had given the Iourneymen very ill words: How can they chuse but speak ill quoth Peachie, for it may be they never learn'd to speak well: whereupon he went unto them saying; how now Captaines, how grew this quar­rell twixt you and my men?

Thy men quoth Stuteley? thy Roags, and thy selfe is no bet­ter that brings them up: sir quoth Peachie, your wong me too much, and get you quickly from my doore, or by this sunne that shines, ile set you packing, & therefore never think to outface me with great looks, for I tell thée Stu [...]ley and Strangwidge both, did you look as big as the Devill I feare you not. And you forgot your maners too much to give me such base tearms, for I would you well knew I kéepe forty good fellowes in my house, that in respect of their manhood may séeme to be your equals. O intollerable Comparison quoth Stuteley, flesh and blood cannot beare such abuse. Ile tell thee what (quoth he) if we two beat not thée and thy forty men, I durst be hangd up at thy doore. Fie, fie, tis too much oddes quoth Peachy, dare you two take ten? nay dare you fight with five? Take that and try quoth Strangwidge, and therewithall gave him a sound blow on the eare: nay this is too much quoth Peachy, put up this and put up all: Stuteley and Strangwidge (quoth he) if you be men, [Page] meet me in Lincolnes-Inne-fields presently: Content quoth they, & thereupon went their wayes. P [...]achie fetching straight his sword and buckler, call'd his man Iohn Abridges to go with him, charging all the rest not to stir out of doores, and so into the fields they went, where immediately they met with these lusty Caveliers. The Captaines séeing him come only with one man, askt if there well all the helpe he had? I will request no more quoth Peachie, to swinge you both out of the fields.

Brag is a good Dog quoth Stuteley, but tell us, hast thou made thy Will, and set thy house in order? What if I have not quoth Pe [...]chie? Why then quoth Strangwidge, for thy wife and childrens sake go home againe and do it, or else get more aide about thée to preserve thy life.

Why how now Master quoth Iohn Abridges, come you into the field to fight with women? why these be two disguised but­ter whores ile lay my life, that have more skill in scoulding then in fighting: but heare you quoth he, if you be men, leave your foule words, and draw your faire weapons, and because I will spare your middle péece, if I strike a stroke below the girdle, call me Cut: sblood shall we be thus out-braved quoth Stuteley? and therewith drawing their weapons, they fell to it lustily, where P [...]achie and his man laid so bravely about them, that they beat both the Captaines out of breath, in which fray, Stuteley was wounded in the head, and Strangwidge in the sword arme, but at last they were parted by many Gentlemen that came in good time to prevent further mischiefe.

The Captaines got them straight to the Surgion, & Peachie with his man went directly home: and while they were a dres­sing, Peachie hearing how they were hurt, sent to S [...]uteley a kerchiefe by one of his men, and by another a scarffe to St [...]a [...] ­gwidge, by the third he sent a bottle of Aqua vitae, wishing them to be of good cheare, for hee intended to be better acquainted with them ere long. The Captaines finding these favours to be but flouts, were more grieved thereat, then at their hurt, and therefore with many disdainfull spéeches, they refused his proffer'd curtesie.

And you shall understand that afterward Peachies men by [Page] two and two at a time, did often méet and fight with them, and so narrowly would they watch for them, that they could be in no place in peace, insomuch that the Captaines found f [...]ghting work enough, & a great deale more then willingly they would, whereby they received many scarres and wounds in the body, so that lightly they were never out of Surgions hands. Vpon a time it chanced that being upon the point of their voyage, and shortly to go to sea: Stuteley and Strangwidge having béene at the Court, and newly come from my Lord-Admirals ledging, before they came to Charing-crosse, they were encountred by a couple of Peachies men, who presently drew upon them, and laid so fréely about, that the two Captaines were glad at length to house themselves for their refuge: Now a plague on them quoth Stu [...]eley, shall we never be in quiet for these quoystrels? never were we so ferrited before, swownes we can no sooner look into the stréets, but these shoomakers have vs by the eares: a pox on it that ever we medled with the rascals: sblood they be as unluckie to be met, as a Hare on a iorney, or a sergeant on a Sunday morning, for ever one mischiefe or other followes it, Captaine S [...]rangwidge (quoth he) there is no other shift but to séek their friendship, otherwise we are in danger every houre to be maimed, therefore to kéep our lims sound aga [...]nst we go to Sea, tis best to finde meanes to quiet this grudge.

Then said Strangwidge, it were good to do so, if a man knew how: but you may be sure they will not easily be intreated, sée­ing we have so mightily abused them in spéech. Thus they cast in their mindes divers times by what meanes they might he reconciled: and albeit they sent divers their friends unto Ma­ster Peachie, and by his m [...]n, yet they would not yéeld, nor give consent to be appeased, nor to put up such wrong as they had received without further revenge: so that the Captaines were at length constrained to make sute to the Duke of Suffolk to take up the matter: who most honorably performed their re­quest: and so the grudge ended betwixt them, to the great cre­dit of Master Peachie, and all his men.

THe fame of Peachey, running through England by meanes of the frayes which he and his men had with Stuteley and Strangwidge, it made many of that occupation desirous to come and dwell with him, for beside that he was a tall man of his hands, he was also an excellent good workman, & therewithall a boun­tifull house-kéeper. Among many other that was desirous of his service, there was one called Tom Drum, that had a great minde to be his man, a very odde fellow and one that was sore infected with y^e sin of cogging: this boasting companion sitting on a time sadly at work in his Masters shop at Petworth, and séeing the Sun shine very faire, made no more to doe but sud­denly shrowded up S. Hughes bones, & taking downe his pike­staffe, clapt his pack at his back, and called for his Master, who comming into the shop, and séeing his man prepared to be prauncing abroad, demanded what the matter was that he fol­lowed not his businesse.

O Master, qd. he, sée you not how swéetly the Sun shines, & how trimly the trées are deckt with green leaves? Well & how then quoth his Master? Marry sir quoth he, having a great mind to heare the small birds sing, and séeing the weather fitter to walk then to work, I called you forth to take my leave and to bid you farewell, I hope sir I have no wager in your hand.

Why no quoth his Master, thou wilt be sure to take an order for that, and therefore séeing thou wilt be gone, adue. God be with you good master quoth he, and farewell all good fellowes of the gentle craft, and therewith he departed.

The iourneymen of the Towne hearing that Tom Drum went away, according to their ancient custome they gathered themselves together to drink with him, and to bring him out of town: and to this intent, up they go with him to the signe of the Crowne, where they parted not till they had drunk a Stand of Ale drie.

Which being done, they bring him a mile on his way, carrying a gallon of béere with them: & lastly there once againe they drink to his good health, and to Chrispianus soule: and to all the good fellowes of Kerbfoord: which being done, they all shook him by the hand, and with hallowing and whooping, so long as they can sée him, they bid him a hundred times farewell. So soone as he was gone out of their whooping, the sweat réeking in his hand, and the Ale in his head, he trips so light in the highway, that he féeles not the ground he goes on: and therefore being in a merry vaine, and desirous to drive out the weary way, as he walks he begins thus pleasantly to sing.

The singing of this song awaked a young Gentleman whom sorrow had laid asleepe on a greene bank by the high wayes side. Who having unadvisedly displeased his Parents, in a cho­lerick humour departed from them, betaking himselfe to tra­vell, thereby to try how fortune would favour him abroad: but having now spent all his money, he was in a wofull taking, not knowing what to do, for never had he béene brought up to any trade, whereby he might be able to get a penny at his néed. Wherefore being in this distresse, he was fully purposed to go to London, and there to learne some occupation, whereby he might keep himself a true man, and not to be driven to séek suc­cour of his friends.

Now therefore when he heard Tom Drum so trimly tune it on the way, raising himselfe from the sad ground, he awaited his comming, at whose sudden sight Tom Drum started like one that had spied an Adder: & seeing him provided with a good sword and buckler, supposed he had béene one that waited for a fat purse: for which cause he began thus to enter parly with [Page] him. Good fellow quoth he,, God give you good morrow, but ill spéed. Why saist thou so quoth Harrie? because said Tom by the good light of the day thou maist sée to passe beside me, and that by thy spéeding ill, I may speed the better: what hast thou such store of money (quoth H [...]rrie) that thou art loath to lose it?

No by my faith quoth he, I have so little that I cannot spare it: for I assure thee all my store is but one poore pennie, and that thou maist sée under my little finger. Why then quoth H [...]rrie if I were minded to assault thée, it should be more to rob thée of thy manhood then thy money: but tell me what pack is that thou bearest at thy back? Marry they be Saint Hughes bones: Saint Hughes bones quoth H [...]rrie, what is that? a kind of commodity said Tom which I cannot misse, for they be my working tooles.

I pray thée said H [...]rrie what occupation art thou? sir quoth he, I am a Goldsmith that makes rings for womens héeles: What meanest thou by that said Harrie? I am quoth Tom of the gentle Craft, vulgarly called a Shoomaker.

The happier thou art quoth Harrie that thou hast a trade to live by, for by that means thou carriest credit with thée in eve­ry place: but tell me good friend, what is thy name, and how far dost thou travell this way? sir quoth he, I travell to the next towne, but my iorney is to London, & as for my name I am not ashamed to shew it: For my name is a Nowne substantive that may be felt, heard, or understood, & to speak the truth I am cal­led: whoe there, I trust sir you ask for no hurt, you are no Bay­liffe nor Bayliffs man, are ye? no not I said Harrie: Gods bles­sing on you quoth he, I love you the better: for I was never so fraid lest my Hostesse of the George in Petworth had sent you for to arrest me, for I think I owe her some ten Groats of the score, set up in very faire Chalk, as one of the principals of her house is able to testifie: but I pray God send her meat, for I ve­rely think I shall never send her monie. But yet quoth Har­rie, I know not how to call your name: verily said he, I am cal­led Thomas Drum, or Tom D [...]um chuse you whether: Well Thomas quoth H [...]rrie, I perceive thou art a man & a good fel­low, therefore I will not be strange to open my néed unto thée. [Page] I have béene unto my parents untoward, and more then that not knowing when I was well, wilfully I came from them: and now that I have spent all my money and worne my selfe out of credit, I have vtterly undone my selfe, for I am not worth a groat, nor no man will trust me for two pence. Why then quoth Tom thou art not worth so much as goodman Luters lame nagge, for my Lord of Northumberlands hunts-man would have given halfe a Crowne for him to have fedde his dogges: notwithstanding be of good chéere, if thou wilt goe to London with me, I will heare thy charges, and I faith at the next towne we will be merry and have go [...]d chéere.

Alas quoth Harry, how can that be seeing you have but one penny? I tell thée what quoth Tom, wert thou a Shoomaker as I am, thou mightst goe with a single penny under thy finger, and trauell all England over and at every good towne have both meate and drinke and lodging of the best, and yet have thy pen­ny in store, as when we come to Gilford you shall soone sée. Be­léeve me quoth Harry, that is more then any tradesmen in Eng­land els can doe.

Tush quoth Tom, shoomakers will not see one another lacke, for it is our vse if wee know of a good fellow that comes to towne, wanting either meate or money, and that he make himselfe knowne, he shall neede to take no further care, for he shall be sure that the jornymen of that place will not onely give him kinde welcome, but also provide him all things ne­cessary of free cost: And if he be disposed to worke among them, he shall have a Master provided by their meanes, without any sute made by himselfe at all. Verily quoth H [...]rry, thou dost ra­uish me with the good report of th [...] passing kind and curteous trade, and I would spend part of my gentle bloud, to be of the gentle Craft: and for thy curtesie if thou wouldst teach it mée, I would annoint thée a gentleman for ever: Wilt thou say and hold quoth Tom? Or els hang me said Harry: then said he annoint me a Gentlemen, and I will shape thée for a Shooma­ker straight. Thereupon Harry tooke his knife, and cutting his finger, all to [...]meared Tom-Drums [...]a [...]e with his bloud, that hee made him looke like the Image of Bred-stréete cor­ner, [Page] or rather like the Sarazines-head without New-gate.

Tom Drum, séeing him doe so, said he might by that means as well annoint him a Ioyner, as a Gentleman: Nay said Harry, I do not deceiue thée I warrant thee, séeing this blood did spring from a Gentleman, if thou wilt not beléeve me, aske all the men in the towne-Malin, and they will say the like.

Well Ile take thy word quoth Tom. And therefore looke that presently thou strip thy selfe, for I will cast thée in a Shoo­makers mould by and by: Harry perceiving his meaning did what he willed, and so he was suted in Toms attire [...] and Tom in his; so that Harry bore the pike staffe and Saint Hughes bones: and Tom swaggered with his sword and buckler; and comming in this sort to Gilford they were both taken for shoomakers, and very hartely welcomed by the jorneymen of that plac [...], especi­ally Harry, because they never saw him before: And at their méeting they askt him and if he could sing or sound the Trum­pet, or play on the Flute, or reco [...] up his tooles in rime, or manfully handle his pike staffe, or fight with a sword and buck­ler? beléeve me quo [...]h Harry, I can neither sound the Trumpet, nor play on the Flute: and beshroe his nose that made me a shoomaker, for he never taught me to recon up my tooles in rime nor in prose.

Tom hearing him say so, told them that he made him of an old serving m [...]n a new shoomaker: When was that (quoth they) marry saith he, when I was annointed a Gentleman, I thinke this face can shew, that I have gentle blood about me: Why then quoth they thou art but a painted Gentleman, but we must account this young man wise, that to auoid misery betakes him­selfe to follow mistery, for cunning continueth when fortune fléeteth, b [...]t it will be hard for such as never were brought up to the bodily labour to frame their fine fingers to any course fa­culty.

Not a whit quoth Harry, for labour by custome becommeth easie. Thou saist true said Tom, I durst lay a good wager I have made more shooes in one day then all the jorney-men here have done in a month: with that one of the jorney-men began to chase, saying, how many a paire of shooes hast thou made in a [Page] day? I made quoth Tom, when the daies were at longest, eight score paire of shoo [...]s in one day.

O monstrous detestable lye, (quoth they) and thereupon one ran into the chimney and cried, come againe Clement, come a­gaine. Whom calst thou quoth Tom, I call Clement carry lye, that runnes Poste betwixt the Turke, and the Devill; that he may take his full loading ere he goe, for the best jorneyman that ever I knew, never made aboue ten paire in a day in his life: and I will lay my whole yéeres wages with thée, that thou canst not make twenty paire in a day, as they ought to be: I should be ashamed but to doe as much as another, [...]nd I never saw him yet that could out worke me, yet dare not I take upon me to make a doozen paire of shooes in a day: but it is an old saying, they brag most that can doe least. Why thou Puppie quoth Tom, thou house Doue, thou Cricket, that never crept further then the chimney corner, tell me what Countries hast thou trauelled?

Far enough quoth he, to prove as good a work-man as thou art: I deny that quoth Tom, for I have béen where I have séene men headed like Dogs, and women of the same shape, where if thou hadst offered them a kisse, they would have béene ready to have snapt off thy nose: othersome I have séen, that one of their legs hath béen as good as a penthouse to couer their whole bodies, and yet I have made them shooes to serve their féet, which I am sure thou couldest never do: nay if thou wilt go with me, if thou séest me not make an hundred paire of shooes from sun rising, to sun setting; count me worse then a stinking Mackrell. Now verily thy talke stinkes too much (quoth they) and if thou canst do so, never make further jorney, but try the matter héere.

I tell you quoth Tom, I cannot try it in England, nor yet in France, Spaine, or Italy, nor in any part of the l [...]w countries, nor in high Germany, Swea [...]hland, or Polonia. We think no lesse (quoth they) nor in any part of the world beside. Yes quoth Tom, I can do it as we trauell to Russia, for there every day is fiue and fiftie of our dayes in length: nay Ile tell you further quoth Tom, in some parts of the world where I have béen, it is day for halfe a yeare together, and the other halfe yeare is continually [Page] night: and goe no further quoth he but into the further part of Scotland, and you shall find one day there (in the month of Iune) to be foure and twenty houres long: and therefore my Masters w [...]ile you live, take héed how you contrary a traue [...]ler, for the rein you shall but be [...]oray your owne ignorance, and make your selves mocking stockes to men of knowledge. And trauel­lers (quoth they) uncontrouled, have liberty to vtter what lies they list.

Masters tell me quoth Tom, were you not borne in Arcadia? No (quoth they) but why aske you? because said Tom, that coun­trey doth more abound in plenty of Asses, where they swarme as thicke as Bées, in Cicily we have cause to give you thanks (quoth they) for calling us Asses so kindly: not so said Tom, I did but aske a question; but séeing you are so cunning, tell mée what Countrey bréeds the best Hides, and Leather, and from whence have we the best Corke? our best Corke comes from Portugall qd. they, but the best Leather grows in our owne land: I deny it quoth Tom, there is I confesse good Corke in Portu­gall, but the best grows in Sparta; but for Hides and Lether there is none comparable to that in Siciona: where I have made a man a paire of shooes that hath lasted him a twelve month to toyle in every day. O tis a gallant Countrey, for I tell you what, there is never a shoomaker in England that kept so many men as I did at that time.

Then said the rest, thou speakest thou knowest not what: Master Peachy of Fléetstréete kéeps continually forty men a work, and the gréen-King of Saint-Martins hath at this time little lesse then thréescore journey-men.

Then is pretty well quoth Tom, but what say you to him that for halfe a yéere together, kept waiting on him above a hundred men that never did him stitch of work? this was a shoomaker of some account: but who was that quoth they? Marry quoth Tom, simple though I stand héere, it was my selfe, and yet I never made brags of it. O what a shamelesse lyer art thou quoth they, we never knew thée able to kéep one man. Now by this bread said Tom, you do me mighty wrong, & were it not that ye be all of this gentle Craft, which science I doe so greatly love [Page] and reuerence, this Iron and stéele should make it good upon your flesh for I tell you once againe, I have béene Master of an hundred men, and put sixtéene score to the hundred: I pray you tell us (quoth they) what men were they? what men were they quoth Tom, they were vermin: in troth quoth they we thought as much, and we commend you for telling truth, and we suppose if you were well searcht we should find twenty vermin waiting on you still. But tell vs Tom, art thou min­ded to be Master Peachies man? I am quoth he except he will make me his fellow. By the Masse (quoth they) then wert thou best to have thy wards ready, and thy hilts sure, for he receives no servant before he tries his man-hood; so much the better quoth Tom, and for that purpose I poste up to London. Thus having had at Gilford very good chéere, the jorney-men of the towne paid for all, and beside gave them money in their purses to spend by the way, and so toward London they went with all speed.

YOu shall understand that at this time there lived a gallant Knight called Sir Iohn Ransford, who was for his courage and valiant heart inferour to few men living he kept a bountifull house, and a brave company of tall men to waite upon him. To all the poore round about where he dwelt, he was very cha­ritable, releeving them daily both with money, and meate; he was a famous Courtier, and in great favour with the King, and the onely thing that disgraced his vertues, was this, that he was something wild in behaviour, and wilfull in his attempts, often repenting sadly what he committed rashly.

It came to passe upon a time that as this couragious Knight was riding home to his own house, there was at a certaine vil­lage, [Page] a corps carried to be buried, the deceased father of fiue small children and the late husband of a wofull Widdw, whose pouerty was such, that she had no money to pay for his buriall: which thing Sir Iohn the parish Priest doubting, would not by any meanes doe his duty to the dead man, except he might first have his money.

The Widdow and her children, with many teares intreated him to do his office, but he would not be perswaded, saying?

What you beggers, would you have me open my sacred lips to invocate and call upon the King of Heaven, to receiue thy hus­bands soule, and to perswade our great Grandmother the earth to wrap his cold body in her warme bosome, for nothing? I tel thée no: first shall his soule frie in the flames of purgatory, till it be as thin as a pancake, and his body remaine aboue ground till the Crowes have pickt his carrion carkasse to the bare bones: and therefore leave your puling, and prate no more, least you make me as chollericke as a quaile; and there withall, as he was going away, the poore Widdow falling on her knées, pluckt him by the gowne, saying,: good Sir Iohn, for swéet Saint Charity, say one Aue Maria, or one Pater noster, and let my poore husbands corps be couered, though it be but with one handfull of holy ground.

Nay Dame quoth he, do you remember at the last shrift how you served me? you would not, no forsooth you would not: and now good Mistris I will not: no penny, no Pater noster, that is [...]at: I pray you now sée if your honesty be sufficient to kéepe your husband from the Crowes. I thought a time would come at length to cry quittance for your coynes: and with that word away he went.

The poore Widdow séeing his obstinacy, with a heavy heart turned into the high wayes side, which was hard adioyning to the Church-yard, and there she and her children wofully begged of the passers by, some money to bury their fathers dead body.

At last Sir Iohn, came riding with all his men, of whom the poor Widdow in this manner began to Aske his almes: good Sir quoth she, if ever womans misery mooved your heart to pitty, give me one penny for Gods sake, toward the burying of my [Page] poore husband: in like manner the children cried, saying, one penny for Christ his sake, good Master one penny. Sir Iohn, hearing their lamentable cry, and séeing the dead corps lying there, as [...]t why the Priest did not bury it?

O Sir Knight quoth she, I have no money to pay for the bu­riall: and therefore the Priest will not doe it. No quoth Sir Iohn? by Gods blessed mother I sweare, Ile make him bury the dead or Ile bury him alive: whereupon he willed one of his men presently to goe to the Parsonage for the Priest, and to bring him thither immediately, his men did so, and foorth came Sir Iohn, in his gowne and corner cap, roughly demanding who would speake with him?

That would I, quoth Sir Iohn Rainesford: therefore tell me, how comes it to passe, that according to order you put not this dead corps into the pit? Sir, quoth he because according to order they will not pay me for my paines.

Aboue all men quoth Sir Iohn, Priestes should respect the poore, and charitably regard the state of the néedy, because they themselves doe teach charity to the people, and perswade men unto works of mercy: and therefore Sir Iohn, séeing good déeds are meritorious, doe you win heaven by this good work let the dead possesse their one: I so they shall, said the Priest so I may not loose my due: for I tell you further, I count it little better then folly, to fill my soule with pleasure by empt [...]ing my purse with coine: will thou not bury him said the Knight: No not with­out money said the Priest; I pray thée said the Knight let me in­treat thée for this time to doe it, because the woman is poor. Then let me intreat [...]ou to pay me quoth the Priest, because you are rich. Sir Iohn Rainsford séeing him stan [...] so peremptory on his points, swore a déep oath, that it were best for him to bury him, or quoth he. Ile bury thée; bury me said the Pri [...]st a fig for you, and bury blind bayard when he is dead, or the dogs that your Hanks will not eate. The Knight at these words being marue­lous angry commanded his men to take him up & cast him into the grave: his men made no more to do, but presently upon their Masters word tooke up the Priest, and wrapping him round in his gowne, put him quicke into the grave, and the [Page] rest cast earth upon him as fast [...]s they could, at what time the Priest cried out, hold, hold, for Gods sake, let me rise and I will bury him Nay soft quoth the Knight, thou art not like to rise, no rising héere before the generall resurrection, that thou shalt rise to judgement, and therefore quicke as he was they bu­ried him, which being done, he commanded the Sexton to make another grave for the dead man, and sending for another Priest, he; sat him if he wold bury the dead without money, who make­ing twenty legs, shivering and shaking with feare, answered I forsooth with all my heart, for they are knaves and no Christi­ans that will not doe it.

Now when the dead man was buried, the Knight gave the poore Widdow an angell in gold to comfort her and her chil­dren, and so rode his way.

When he came home, he fold his Lady what he had done; who greatly grieving thereat, wisht he had pa [...] for twenty bu­rials, rather then he had made that one buriall. Tis done now said the Knight, and undone it cannot be againe, though with griefe I should kill my selfe.

Now you shall understand, that the Deane of the Dioces, ha­ving word hereof, rode up presently to London and made a great complaint thereof unto the King, which when his grace had considered he was very wroth thereat and therefore sent down pursevants to apprehend the Knight, but he before had forsaken his house, and wandred in disguise up and downe the Countrey. His Lady in the meane space made great suite for his pardon, being therein assisted by divers great Counsellors, and Noble Lords, who much lamented the Knights case: notwithstanding they could hardly forbeare laughing many times when they thought upon this mad pranke.

But as Sir Iohn disguisedly wandred, he chanced twixt Gilford and London to light in the company with Harry Nevell and Tom Drum: But Harry vewing him well in the face, dis­cried by his countenance what he was, and maruelling much to sée him in such distresse, made himselfe not known, but soun­ded him in this sort.

Sir quoth he, whither do you wander this way, or to what [Page] place trauell you? Gentle youth quoth he, fitly dost thou aske me whither I wander, seeing indéed we doe all but wander in this vale of misery: dost thou demand whither I trauell? nay ra­ther aske wherefore I trauell, or wherewith I trauell? and then could I soone answer thée: sbones quoth Tom, I durst lay a haporth of Ale, that the Peasant is in labour with love.

Nay quoth Sir Iohn, hadst thou said I trauelled with griefe, and that I was in labour with sorrow, then hadst thou said right, for I may say to thée, I have had a sore labour continually this month in paine, and yet is not the time of my deliuerance come, wherein I should be fréed from this untoward child of care: thou didst thinke I was in love, O would to God it were so, for while I was in love, my dayes ran foorth in plesant houres, but I am cast off like a lumpe of earth from the gardiners spade: I love, but I am not beloved, but rather hated and despised.

Tush quoth Tom, bridle these foolish passions, for Ile tell thée what, hunger asswageth love, and so doth time, but if thou be not able to doe any of these, then to take an halter, which if thou doest vse as it ought, if ever thou complaine more, of sorrow or care, never trust my word for a cupple of blacke puddings.

Belike, said Sir Iohn, thou hast béen some hangman that thou art so cunning in the nature of an halter: but howsoever thou ac­countest it good, yet it is an Ill word foure times a yéer at New­gate, and as small comfort is it to me to heare it rehearst at this time.

Indéed said Harry, these are unsauory tearmes to be spoken to a sorrowfull man: neither have any of us great cause to be merry at this méeting, considering the hard cases wée are in, that are both masterlesse, and moneylesse, which if God doe not soone send us, will cause our sodaine misery.

With that the Knight turning his head, pluckt his hat to his eyes to hide the teares that trickled down his face, saying, O my masters, want of money cannot make a man miserable, if he have health and liberty, to worke for his liding, but indéed the frownes of a good Master, the displeasure of a good Master, the hate of a good master, may easily make a servant miserable, as by mine own experience I have séen, & to my grief but lately felt.

What man, be blith said Tom, and never grieve so much for the Ill will of a Master. God kéepe me from being of thy mind, for if I should have grieved at the Ill will of every Master that I have serued, I verely thinke I should have kild a proper man long ere this; for I am sure I have had as many Masters, as there are Market townes in England, and yet perhaps quoth Harry, none so good a Master as his was.

Never did man speake truer word said the Knight for he was to me good kind and liberall, but howsoever he hath banisht me his house, yet shall my heart serue him while I live: now doth it come in my mind, how happy they are that live in his fa­vour: how blessed they be that enioy his presence; O were my head once againe shadowed under his faire roofe, it would expell all unquiet thoughts, which like milstones presseth downe my hearts comfort.

What, would you goe dwell with him againe quoth Tom? fie what a base mind doe you beare; were it to me, by this flesh and bloud, I would rather run as far as Ierusalem to séeke a Master. Tom, Tom (said the Knight) I know this, wealth makes men lofty, but want makes men lowly, and commonly gentle. Ma­sters have proud servants, but had I béene as wise, as I was wilfull, I might have led a happy life, but if teares might satis­fie for mine offence, I would quickly recouer his favour.

Hereupon the wofull Knight would have parted their compa­ny, but Harry secretly conferring with him had knowledge how his griefe grew, and making themselves known the one to the other, agréed to goe to London together, and there to try what fortune would befall them.

The Knight tooke great comfort by this conference, and ha­ving store of gold about him, made them great chéere at King­stone, and in the end was content to take their counsaile: and comming into Fléet-stréete, Tom Drum brought them to Pea­chies house, where such meanes was made: that at last upon the tryall of their manhood, they were all entertained; and so well Peachy liked of Sir Iohn, that he vowed he should not be his man, but his fellow.

Within short time after the French-men had landed in the [Page] Ile of Wight, about two thousand men of warre, who burned and spoyled the Country very sore for which cause the King had made ready an army of men to goe thither. Peachy at his owne proper cost, set forth thirty of his owne servants, well armed at all essayes, and himselfe as Captaine over them mustred before the King: who liked so well of them, that he chose out seaven of that company for his owne Guard; at what time Sir Iohn, in disguised manner shewed there such good service, that thereby he won his Majesties high favour, and was by him most graci­ously pardoned. Peachy was hereupon made the Kings Shoo­maker, who lived long after in great favour and estimation, both with his Majesty, & all the honourable Lords of the Court.

THere lived in Fléet-stréete at this time a faire Widdow, who was famous for her beauty, as she was estéemed for her wealth, she was beloved of many Gentlemen, and sued unto by divers Citizens, but so déepe was the memory of her late husband ingrauen in her heart, that she vtterly refused marriage leading a sober and solemne life.

Harry Nevell having his heart fired with the bright beams of this blazing Comet, sought all meanes possible to quench the heate thereof with the floudes of her favourable curtesie: and lacking meanes to bring himselfe acquainted with so curious a péece, be wrayed by his outward sighs, his inward sorrows: which upon a time, Tom Drum perceiving, demanded the cause of his late conceiued griefe, saying, How now Hall, what wind blowes so bleake on your chéekes now? tell me mad wag, hath Cupid and you had a combate lately? why lookest thou so sad? hath the blind slave giuen thée a bloody nose, or a broken head? Oh, no Tom quoth he, that little tyrant aimes at no other part but the heart, therefore tis my heart, and not my head that bléeds. With whom Hall, with whom art thou in love, tell me man? it may be I may pleasure thée more in that matter then my Lord Major: therefore I faith Harry say who is it? never be afraid [Page] man to unbuckle your Budget of close counsell to me, for if I be wray your secrets call me dogs-nose, and spit in my face like a young kitling.

I tell thée Harry, I am holden in greater account among women then you are aware, and they will more willingly shew their secrets to me then to their ghostly father: But art thou so in favour with fine wenches quoth Harry?

I faith Sir I, quoth Tom, and I fro I have not lived thus long, but I know how to make a woman love me, by a cun­ning tricke that I have: I durst lay my life, I will make a dozen maids runne after me twenty miles for one nights lod­ging, striving, who should first bestow her maiden-head on me.

That tricke surpasses of all that ever I heard quoth Harry.

Nay quoth Tom, Ile tell thée once what a merry pranke I plaid, God forgive me for it: upon a time on a Saterday in the morning, I went into East cheape of purpose to spie what pretty wenches came to Market where I saw a great many as fresh as flowers in May, tripping up and down the stréets with hand baskets in their hands, in red stammell petticoates, cleane neckerchers and fine holland aprons as white as a Lilly: I did no more but carry the right leg of a Turtle under my left arme, and immediately the wenches were so inamoured with my fight that they forsooke the butchers shops, and inticed me into a Tauerne, where they spent all the money they should have laid out at Market, onely to make me merry: and never had I so much to doe, as to be rid of their company where they were rea­dy to fall together by the eares, for the kisses they would have bestowed upon me.

But it may be quoth Harry, your art would faile me now, to help your friend at a dead lift: not so said Tom, and therefore if there be any in this stréet that thou hast a mind unto, thou shalt carry but the head of a dead crow about thée, & it shall be of force to bring her to thy bed were it fine Mistres Farmer her self. But art thou acquainted with her quoth Harry, or dost thou thinke thou couldst prefer a friend to her spéech? I quoth Tom, why I tell thée I am more familiar with her then with Doll our kit­hen-drudge: why man she will doe any thing at my request, nay, I can command her in some sort, for I tell thee [Page] she will not scant be séene in the stréet, though some would give her twenty pound for every step, and I did but slightly request her to walke into the fields with me, and straight she went, and I never come into the house, but I have such entertainment as no man hath the like: for as soone as ever she sées me set footing on her checkquerd pavement, presently with a smiling looke, she méetes me halfe way saying, what my friend Tom-Drum? honest Thomas, by my Christian soule, hartily welcome: then straight a chair and a cushion is fetcht for me, and the best chéere in the house is set on the table, and then sitting downe by my side in her silken gowne, she shakes me by the hand and bids me welcome, and so laying meate on my trencher with a silver forke she wishes me frolicke, at what time all the secrets of her heart she imparts unto me, craving my opinion in the premises. I assure thée said Harry, those are high favours, well be wray­ing the great friendship that she beares thée, and I much mar­uell that thou being a young man, wilt not séeke a wife that is so wealthy, and so make thy selfe famous, by marrying Mistris Farmer, for it is likely she could well away to make him her husband, to whom she opens her hearts secrets.

Tis true quoth Tom, and I know that if I spoke but halfe a word she would never deny me: nay she would spend ten of her twelve silver Apostles, on condition I would vouchsafe to be her husband. But wot you what Harry, it is well known though Lillies be faire in shew, they be foule in smell, and women as they are beautifull so are they deceitfull: beside, Mistris Far­mer is too old for me.

Too old quoth Harry? why man she is not so old as charing-Crosse for her gate is no [...] crooked nor her face withered: but were she an hundr [...]d yeare old, having so strong a body and so fai [...]e a face she were not in my opinion much to be mislikt; yet in my conscience I thinke, since first her faire eyes beheld the bright sunne, she never tasted the fruites of twenty flourishing Somers: nor scant felt the nipping frostes of ninetéene cold winters, and therefore her age néed be no hurt to her marria [...]e. Ile tell thée my mind quoth Tom, after a wom [...]n is past sixtéene yéeres old, I will not give fiftéene blew buttons for her: but tell [Page] me Harry, dost thou like her? if thou dost say so, and I will war­rant her thy owne.

Gentle Tom Drum quoth Harry, the true figure of unfained friendship, and the assured Map of manhood, doe but prefer me to her acquaintance, and I will request no greater curtesie. Here is my hand quoth Tom, it shall be done, and on Thursday at night next we will goe thither, and then thou shalt sée whether Tom Drum can command any thing in Mistresse Farmers house or no. The day being thus set downe, Harry had prepared himselfe a faire sute of apparell against the time, and beside had bought certaine giftes to bestow on the faire Widdow: Tom Drum in like sort had drest himselfe in the best manner he might, still bearing Harry in hand that none in the world should be better welcome then he to the Widdow: which God wot was no­thing so, for she never respected him but onely for the shooes he brou [...]ht her: but you shall sée how it fell out. The day being come, Tom taking Harry by the hand, and comming to the Widdows doore, took hold on the Bell and rung thereat so lusti­ly, as if he had béene bound seaven yeares Prentise to a Sexton: whereupon one of the Prentises came straight to the doore, say­ing, who is there? Sirra, quoth Tom Drum, tis I, open the doore; the fellow séeing it to be Tom Drum, with a frown askt him what he would have? who answered, be would speake with his Mistris. My Mistris is busie quoth the fellow, cannot I doe your errand? No marry can you not quoth Tom, I must speak with her my selfe: then stay a little quoth the boy, and I will tell, and with that in he went, leaving Tom still at the doore, where they sate till their féet waxt cold before the boy returned. By the Masse quoth Harry, whatsoever your credit with the Mistris is I know not, but the curtesie is small that is shewen you by her man: Tush quoth Tom, what will you have of a rude unmannerly boy? if any of the Maids had come to the doore, we had béene long ere this brought to their Mistris presence: therefore once againe I will vse the help of the Bell-rope.

At his second ringing, out comes one of the Maids, saying with a shrill voyce: who the Divell is at the doore, that kéepes such a ringing? why you queane quoth he, tis I, what Tom-Drum [Page] quoth shée, what would you have? I would speak with your mistresse quoth he: trust me said the maid, you cannot speake with her now, she is at supper with two or thrée that are sutors Master Doctor Burket is one, and Master Alderman larvice the other: tut quoth Tom tell me not of sutors but tell her that I am here, then good enough: well I will quoth shée, and with that, claps to the dore againe, and kéepes them still without. This geare workes but ill-favouredly, yet said Harry and you are little beholding either to the men, or to the maids, for ought that I sée▪ that will not shew you so much favour to stay within dores: 'tis no matter, Harry quoth he, but if their Mistresse should know this she would swinge their co [...]ts l [...]ste­ly for it: and with that, one of the bayes opening the doore, told Tom that his mistresse wold have him send up his errand, sblood quoth he, is she so st [...]tely that she will not come downe? I haue seene the day when she would have bin glad to have spo­ken with me: I quoth the fellow, it may be so, when you have brought her a new paire of shoes, that hath pincht her at the toes. Come Harry said Tom, I will take the paines for this once to goe up to her, by my faith but you shall not said the fellow, and therefore kéepe you backe for you come not in here: Tom Drum séeing himselfe thus disgrac'd before his fellow Harry (being ve­ry angry) askt if this were the best entertainment that they could affoord their Mistresses Friends? And therewith­all began to struggle with them: which their mistresse hearing, started from the table, and suddenly came to sée what the mat­ter was, who being certified of Tom Drums sawcinesse, began thus sharpely to check him, why fellow quoth she art thou mad, that thus uncivilly thou behavest thy self? what hast thou to say to me, that thou art thus importunate? no hurt quo [...]h he, but that this gentleman and I would have bestowed a galland of wine to have had three or foure houres talke with you.

I tell thee said she, I am not now at leasure, and therefore good honesty trouble me no more: neither is it my wont to be won with wine at any time; gods Lord quoth he are you grown so coy? if you and I were alone I know I should finde you more milde: what must no man but Doctor Burket cast your [Page] water? is his Phisicke in most request? well I meane to be better entertained ere I goe, for there is never a Felmming of them all shall out face me, by the morrow Masse I sweare. Mi­stris Farmar seeing him so furious, answered he should have present entertainment according to his desert; whereupon she made no more to doe, but quietly went to her servants, and wil­led them to thrust him out by the head and shoulders: which pre­sently they performed. But Harry was by her v [...]ry modestly an­swered, that if he had occasion of any spéech with her, the next day h [...] should come and be patiently heard and gently answered: with which words after she had drunke to him in a gobblet of Claret wine, he departed, and going home he told Tom Drum he was highly beholding to him for his curtesie in preferring his sute to Mistris Farmer: surely quoth hée, you are in very high favour with the faire woman, and so it séemed by your great entertainment: I pray thée Tom tell me how tasted the meat which she set on thy trencher with her silver forke: and what secret was that shée told in thy eare? trust me thou art precious in her eies, for she was as glad to sée thée, as one had given her a rush, for when after many hot wordes she heard thée draw thy breath so short, she for very pitty tumbled thée out into the stréet to take more apre: well quoth Tom, floute on, but I am well e­nough served, Ile lay my life had I not brought thée with me, never a man should have had more welcome then I: and now I consider with my selfe that it did anger her to the heart when she saw I was purposed to make another copartner of her presence: but it shall teach me wit while I live, for I remember an old saying, love and Lordship brookes no fellowship; but when this matter was made known to the rest of the jorneymen, Tom-Drums entertainment was spoke of in every place, insomuch that it is to this day a proverb amongst us, that where it is sup­posed a man shall not be welcomed, they will say he is like to have Tom Drums entertainment. And to auoid the flouts that were daily given him, poore Tom Drum forsooke Fléet-stréet, and at last went into Scotland, being prest for a Drummer at Muskelbrough field, where the noble Duke of Sommerset & the Earle of Warwick were sent with a noble army where, English­men [Page] and Scots méeting, there was sought a cruell battle, the victory whereof fell to the Englishmen at what time there was slaine of the Scots to the number of 14. Thousand, and fiftéene hundred taken prisoners, where we will leave Tom Drum till his returne, making mention how Harry Nevell behaved him­selfe in the meane space in London.

MIstris Farmer fiering the hearts of many with her beauty, was wond [...]ously wooed by Doctor Burket, who would give unto her divers rich gifts, the which though they were faire and costly, yet Mistris Farmer would hardly ac­cept them, but even what he in a manner by perforce constrained her to take, least by his cunning he should insert therein some matter more then ordinary, that might moove any motion of love, contrary to her naturall inclination: upon a time Harry Nevell comming thether, and finding the Doctor very diligent to bréed the Widdows content, whereby he greatly hindred his procéedings, cast in his mind how he might disburden the house of the Doctor and get opportunity to prefer his owne sute. At last lighting on a device fit for the pur­pose, in this sort he delt with the Doctor; there was an Egypti­an woman that at Black-wall was in trauell with child, and had such hard labour, that she was much lamented among all the wives that dwelt thereabout. Harry Nevell comming that way, and hearing thereof, thought it a fit matter to imploy Doctor Burket about, while in the meane space he might the better be, wray his affection to the Widdow.

Whereupon he sent one to him attyred like a serving man, booted and spurd, who comming to the Widdows house all in a sweate; laid load on the doore demanding for Master Doctor: what would you with him quoth one of the Maids? marry quoth he, my Lady Sunborne hath sent for him in all post hast, and therefore I pray you let me speake with him. I will pre­sently [Page] doe your errand said the maid, whereupon running up she told him that my Lady Sunborne hath sent a messenger in very great hast to speake with him. Doctor Burket hearing that, and being well acquainted with the Lady Swinborne, took leave of the Widdow & went to the messenger, saying how now good fel­low, what would my good Lady haue with me? Sir said the mes­senger, she would desire you if ev [...]r you did tender the life of a Lady, to make no delay, but presently to put your selfe a horse­back, & come to her, for she is wondrous sick: I am sory for that said the Doctor▪ & surely I will make all spéed possible to come to her: whereupon the Doctor tooke horse and immediatly went with the seruingman. H [...]rry hearing of his departure, came to the Widdow with a smiling countenance and thus merily began to wooe her.

Now Mistris Farmer, happy it is that a yongman once in a moneth may find a moment of time to talk with you: truth it is that your good graces haue greatly bound me in affection to you, so that onely aboue all the women in the world I haue setled my delight in your love, & if it shall please you to requite my good will with the like kindnesse, I shall account my birth day bles­sed, & remaine your faithfull friend for ever. Gentle man quoth she, for your good will, I thank you, but I would haue you un­derstand, that the lesse you love me, the better I shall like you, for your delights & mine are not alike, I haue setled my fancy on a single [...]e, being a Widdow unméete to marry, & unapt to loue; once indeed I had learned that lesson, but my schole master being untimely dead that taught me, I grew forgetfull of all those principles & then I swore neuer to follow that study more: wherefore if you will become a faithfull friend to me, let me be assured thereof by this, that from hencefor [...]h you will not any more trouble me with this matter, & thereby you shall bind me to think the better of you while I know you: & doe not think I speak this of any affection procéeding from my self to any other, or for the desire of any benefit proferred by any other to me.

Faire Mistris quoth Harry, I know it is the custome of wo­men to make their denials unto their louers, & strictly to stand on nice points, because they will not be accounted easily won, [Page] or soone entreated: alack déere Dame consider nature did not a­dorne your face with such incomp [...]rable beauty, & framed every other part so full of excellency, to wound men with woe, but to worke their content.

Wherefore now in the Aprill of your yeares, & the swéet sum­mer of your dayes, banish not the pleasures incident to bright beauty, but honour London stréets with the faire fruite of your womb & make me blessed by being father to the issue of your de­licate body; & though your beauty as the spring doth yet yearely grow, yet in the black winter of old age it will not be so, & we sée by daily experience, that flowers not gathered in time rot & con­sume themselves: wherfore in my opinion you should doe the world intollerable wrong to live like a fruitlesse figtrée.

Nay then Sir quoth she, I perceive you will grow trouble­some, and shew your selfe no such man as you professe your selfe: and séeing among many I request but one thing at your hands, and you refuse to doe it for my sake, I may say your frind­ship is more in words then in works: wherefore I perceive I must be constrained to call my Maid for a cup of voyding béere ere you will depart.

Nay Mistris quoth he, I will saue you that labour, séeing your love commands me, & I pray God grant you a more favoura­ble mind at our next m [...]eting, & with these words he departed.

Now you shall understand, that this gallant Widdow had in her house a very proper youth which was one of her aprentices who had a long time borne his Mistris great good will: where­upon he became so diligent & carefull about all things committed to his charge that thereby he won much commendations among all the neighbors, & was for the same highly estéemed of his Mi­stris: who after he had long concealed his grief at last unburden­ed himselfe of so [...]e sorrow, by making a friend privy to his pas­sions, who comforted him in this sort [...]tush m [...] quoth he what though she be thy Mistris, & thou her prentise, be not ashamed to shew thy affection to her: she is a woman wise & modest, and one that however she answers thy demand, will not think worse of thée for thy good will: therefore try her, thou knowest not how fortune may favour thy sute, and the worst is she can [Page] but say shée nay: O quoth he, if I were out of my years. I could have some heart to wooe her, but having yet thrée quarters of a yéere to serve, it may be some hindrance to my fréedome if she should prove fr [...]ward.

Tush stand not on those tearms, said his friend Francis, she will never requite [...]indnes with such discurtesse, and therefore William prove not a foole by being too fearefull.

O my deare friend Francis, quoth he, how can I suppose I should spéed well, séeing she disdains Doctor Burket, and refuses Master Alderman, & will shew no countenance to gallant Ma­ster Nevell; what a bad reason is this quoth Francis, some can­not abide to eate of a Pig: some to taste of an Eele, othersome are sicke if they sée but a Crab, and divers cannot away with chéese: yet none of them all but doe live by their virtuals, every man hath his fancy, & every woman will follow her own mind, and therefore though she find not an Alderman or a Doctor for her diet yet she may think William her man a fit morsell for her own tooth. I wis quoth William, thy reasons are goo [...], and I have advantage aboue all other suters to follow my sute, being in the house daily with her, and every evening when they are away be­side she hath appointed me this after [...]oone to come to her Clo­set, that I may shew her my reckoning and accounts & in what sort her state standeth: wherefore séeing I have such occasion, I will no longer trifle out the time: but so soon as that businesse is ended, put my selfe to the hazard of my happy fortune: wherefore good Francis farewell till I sée thée againe, & how I spéed, at our next méeting thou shalt know. The time at last being come that Mistris Farmer had appointed [...]o have her books cast over get­ting into her closet shee whistled for her Maid, & bad her call up William, & quoth she let him bring his books of account with him: the maid did as her Mistris commanded, & up comes William with his books under his armes: & after he had very reuerently don his duty to his Mistris, she had him sit downe saying, now William let me sée these reckonings justly cast up, for it is long since I have cast an eye into mine estate. Mistris quoth he, doubt not but your estate is good, and your accounts justly kept for I have had as great regard thereto as the goods had béen my owne. [Page] Therein quoth she I am the more beholding to thée, neither shal thy true service goe unrewarded if I live; or if I dye thou shalt not be altogether forgotten.

These kind spéeches greatly comforted Williams heart, where­upon he fell to his reckonings roundly, till his mind running too much on his Mistris beauty, sometimes he would misse and count thrée-score, and foure-score, nine-score: Nay there you faile quoth his Mistris, and over-fell forty, for thrée and foure is but seaven, tis true indéed Mistris (said he) and thrée times seaven is iust five and twenty: I tell thée quoth she, tis buton [...] and twenty, what fellow begin you to do [...]e in your yong yeares?

O my déere Mistris said he blame me not if I doe so, séeing your swéet presence hath made farre wiser then my self to do [...]e: O my good Mistris pardon my presumption, for being thus bold to unburden my hearts griefe unto you, my hearty love to your swéet selfe is so great, that except you vouchsafe favourably to censure, and kindly to judge thereof, that the sorrowes of my mind will wound my very soule, and make my life lo [...]thsome unto me.

Wherefore my good Mistris, despise not your poore servant, but yéeld unto him such succour, as may prolong his dayes with many blessed houres.

His Mistris obscuring her beauty with lowring browes, (like foggy vapours that blot the sky) made him this answer: How now Sirra, hath my too much mildnesse made you thus saw [...]y? can you set your love at no lower a pitch, but you must mount to be Master of your Mistris?

No Mistris quoth he, no master, but your servant for ever. Goe to, leave your prating quoth she, or I will breake thy head I sweare, have I refused as thou séest, a graue and wealthy Al­derman that might make me a Mistris of worship and digni [...]y, and denied master Doctor of his request, who as thou [...]owest is at this day estéemed the cunningest Physition in London, and diverse other honest and well landed Gentlemen, and a­mong the rest young Master Nevell, whoas some say is decsen­ded of a noble house, and whose love I dare sweare is to me most firmely devoted so that in my heart I am perswaded he [Page] loves the ground the better that I tread on: & should I, (I say) forsake all these to make my foot my head, and my seruant my superiour to marry thée which art a Prentice boy?

Nay Sir quoth she, séeing you are grown so lusty, tis time to tame you and looke to your steps: therefore I charge you leave the shop and get you into the kitchin to help the Maid so washe the dishes and scowre the Ketiles; and whereas since my hus­bands decease I have given foure nobles a yeare to a water bea­rer, I will make thée saue me that charges, for it is well séene, that too long the water Tankard hath béene kept from thy lazy shoulders, and if thou scornest to doe this, get where thou wilt; but if thou wilt remaine with me, so long as thou hast a day to serve, thou shalt be thus imployed.

Hereupon she called up her man Richard to supplie his place, and to be fore-man of the shop, gracing him with the keyes of the counting house: which William séeing, sadly went out of her sight, wofully to himselfe bewayling his hard fortune, but yet such was his love to his Mistris, that he rather chose to be drudge in her kitchin, then to change her service for any other. All the servants in the house much mused at this alteration: but to no creature did his Mistris tell the cause thereof, but kept it secret to her selfe: toward the evening, foorth he must néeds goe for water, at what time he wanted no flouts of all his fellows, nor of many of the neighbors servants: where méeting with his friend Francis, discoursed to him the whole cause of his dis­grace: he greatly chasing thereat, perswaded him never to en­dure such base drudgery, but rather to séeke preferment in some other place.

Notwithstanding William would not follow his counsell, but rather chose patiently to abide all brunts night being come, and supper ended, William was set to performe his penance for his presumption in love, that is to say, to scrape the trenchers, scowre the kettles and spits, and to wash up the dishes: which he went about with such good will, that it séemed to him rather a pleasure then a paine.

His Mistris closset joyning to the kitchin, had a secret place therein to look into the kitchin, were closely sitting, she earnest­ly [Page] beheld her man how he bestirred himselfe in his busines: Whereupon she entered into this consideration with her selfe. Now fle for shame, how Ill doth it beséeme me to set so hand­some a youth to such drudgery? if he bore a mans mind he would never indure it, but being of a base and servile condition, he d [...]th [...]asily indure the yoake of servitude, and yet I am too blame so to thinke, for if he had stubbornly disobeyed my commande­ment how could I otherwise judge, but that in pride and dis­daine he thought himselfe too good to be at any direction: some servants would in such a case have given me many foule words, and rather malepartly set me at nought, and forsake my service, then to have indured the tearms of disgrace that he hath done by this means: but héereby it is evident that love thinks nothing too much. Well Will quoth she; the vertue of thy mind shall bréed better thoughts in thy Mistris, which shall make her re­ward thy good will in a large measure: sée sée how neately he goes through his work, how handsomely he handles every thing: and surely well may I suppose that he which is so faith­full a servant, would certainly prove a kind husband, for this hath béene no slender triall of his constant heart. With that hea­ring the Maid and some other of the servants talke with him, she lending a héedfull eare to their spéech, heard them speake to this purpose: good Lord William quoth one, I maruell much that you being of so good parents and having so little a while to serve, will be thus vsed at her hands? it were too much if you were but this day bound prentice, to be set to such slavery: I sweare quoth an oth [...]r, I have thrée times longer to serve then you and if she should bid me doe as thou dost, I would bid her doe it herselfe with a morin: Ile tell you what quoth the third, Ile be plaine and vse but few words, but I would sée my faire Mistris with the black Devill before I would doe it.

Well we [...]l my masters quoth William, you are mad merry wags but I take it as great favour done me by my Mistris thus to imploy me, that the [...]eby I might have knowledge how to decke up a kitchen that méeting with a bad huswife to my wife I know how to instruct her in houshold affaires: I care for no such favour said he.

Their Mistris hearing all, said nothing, but determined to try them all what they would doe ere it were long: wherefore being now greatly affectioned to her man, couered her love with such discretion, that none could perceive it. For Master Doctor being newly returned, came thither puffing and blow­ing saying, he was never so served since he was borne; quoth he, since I was here, I have at least ridden an hundred miles with an arrant knave that carried me I knew not whether: he rode with me out of Bishops-gate foorth right as far as Ware, and then compassing all Suffolke, and Norfolke, he brought me backe againe through Essex, and so conducted me to Black-wall in Middlesex to séeke out my Lady Swinborne, my good Lady and Mistris: at last I saw it was no such matter, but the vil­laine being disposed to mocke me, brought me to a woman Egiptian, as blacke as the great Divell, who lay in child-bed and was but delivered of a child of her owne colour: to the which in despite of my heard they made me be God-father, where it cost me thrée crownes, and I was glad I so escaped, and who was the author of all this deceipt but Master Nevell? but if ever I come to give him Phisicke, if I make him not have the squirt for five dayes, count me the veriest dunce that ever wore veluet cap.

Master Doctor quoth she, I am very sorie you were so vsed, notwithstanding to make Master Nevell and you friends I will bestow a breakefast upon you to morrow, if it please you to ac­cept my offer. Faire Widdow quoth he, never a one in the world would have vrged me to be friends with him but your selfe, and I am contented for your sake to doe it: and thus till next morning he took his leave.

Next day as soone as she was up she called up one of her men saying, Sirra run quickly, take a basket and fetch me a bushel of oysters from Billinsgate; the fellow frowning said, I pray you send another, for I am busie in the shop.

Why knade quoth she, Ile have thée goe, quoth he, make a drudge of some other and not of me, for to be plaine I will not goe. No quoth she, call me Richard hither: when he came, she desired him very gently to fetch her a bushel of oysters.

Why Mistresse quoth he, my friends set me not here to be a Porter to fetch Oisters from Billingsgate. I tell you true, I scorne you should require any such matter of me. Is it true quoth she? very well, I will remember this when you forget it. Thus when she had tried them all, she called her man William, saying: sirra goodman scullian take the great close basket, and fetch me a bushell of oysters from Billinsgate, & look you tarry not. I will forsooth Mistris quoth he, & presently away he went with such good will as none could go with better, being marvel­lous glad that she would request any thing at his hands.

When he was come againe, with a smiling countenance she said, what Wilkin art thou come already? it is well done, I pray thée bring some of them up into my Closset, that I may taste how good they be: yes forsooth quoth William, and after her he went, the Maide likewise carried up a couple of white manchets, and with a Diaper napkin covered the table. Now Maid quoth she, fetch me a pint of the best red wine: I will for­sooth said the Maid.

Mistris said William, if it please you, I will open your Oy­sters for you; I pray you do quoth she: then taking a towell on his arme, and a knife in his hand, being glad he had gotten so good an office, shewed himselfe so feat and expert in his [...]ccupa­tion, that he opened as fast as his Mistresse could eat.

Beléeve me William quoth she, you are nimble at an oyster, and quick in carving up shell fish, though dull in casting up ac­counts, I pray thee tell me how many shels are in three and thirtie oysters? Thréescore and six said William: you are a witty youth quoth she, if thy spéech be true it must then néeds follow that I have eaten thrée and thirty oysters, have also de­voured thréescore and six shels, which is too much for one wo­mans breakfast in a cold morning in conscience, and therefore I had néed quickly to give over, least I break my belly with oyster shels: whereupon she cald her maid, saying: come hither Ioane, and bring me a goblet of wine that I may wash Willi­ams shels from my stomack.

Indéed Mistris quoth he, if you take my words so, I spoke without book: it is true quoth she, for they are alwaies with­out [Page] that are never within, and either thy knowledge is small, or thy blindnesse great, or oyster shels very soft, that I should eat so many and never féele one: for surely, if there be thrée­score and six oyster shels in thrée and thirty oysters, there must néeds be as many more in three and thirty oysters: and to af­firme my words true, behold here the shels that were out of the oysters, now shew me those that were within the oysters. William seeing his Mistris thus pleasant, began to gather some courage to himselfe, and therefore thus uttered his mind: Deare Mistris, néeds must I prove both blinde in sight, and dull in conceipt, while your faire eyes that gives light to the Sunne obscure themselves, and dark the glory of their shine, when I séek to receive comfort thereby: and the want of your good will makes my wits so weak, that like a barren trée it yéelds no fruit at all.

True quoth she: thrée times seven is iust five and twenty: but tell me what is the cause that moves thée to desire my fa­vour, and to request my good will? Good Mistris pardon me quoth he, and I will tell you: whereupon she replied, saying, trust me William, my pardon is easier to be gotten then the Popes, and therefore be not afraid to procéed. Why then my deare Mistris, séeing you have so graciously granted liberty to my hearts advocate, to pleade at the bar of your beauty, and to open the bill of my complaint: know this, that hope against hope perswaded me to labour for your love, that gaining the same I might be called a blessed man by winning such a wife.

What Will quoth she, art thou not ashamed, that such a youth as thy selfe, a lad, a stripling, a prentice boy, should in the ig­norance of his age, cumber himselfe with the cares of the world, and wantonly take a wife, that knowes not how to guide him­selfe? I tell thée fellow, first learne to thrive, and then wive. O my deare Mistris, said William, let not pleasant youth which is the glory of many be a disgrace to me: neither with­out triall déere Mistris disable not my manhood, which now I take to be in his chiefe prime.

Nay quoth she, if thou wilt have thy manhood tried, prepare thy selfe for the warres, and purchase honour by beating down [Page] our countries foes, and so shalt thou weare the golden wreath of honour for ever. In troth Mistris quoth he, I had rather have my manhood tried in another place. Y faith where quoth shee? by my troth said he, in your soft bed, which is far better then the hard field: why thou bold knave quoth she, it were a good déed to make you a bird of Bridewell, for your saucinesse. Be­léeve me Mistris quoth he, I am sorie you should be offended, rather will I get me into a corner and die through disdaine, then stay in your sight and grieve you? and with that away he went. She séeing him so hastily depart, called him againe say­ing: William come hither, turne againe you faint hearted coward, what art thou afraid of Bridewell? use thy selfe well, and I will be thy friend: the young man that with these words was revived like a sick man out of a dead sound, turning mer­rily to his Mistris, gave her a kisse, saying: on that condition I give you this. How now sir quoth she, I called you not back to be so bold: in good sadnesse do so againe, and I will give you on the eare.

Nay Mistris quoth he, if that be all the danger, take then ano­ther, and lay me on the eare (so I may lay you on the lips) and spare not: nay then said his Mistris, I sée my too much softnesse makes thée saucy, therefore for feare thou shouldest catch a sur­fet, I charge thée on paine of loves displeasure, to get you downe about your businesse, and sée that all things be in readi­nesse against my friends come: why goe you not? what stand you in a maze? pack I say and be gone.

And thus my deare Mistris quoth he, parts my soule out of Paradise, and my heart from heavens ioy: notwithstanding you command and I consent and alwayes let me finde favour, as I am forward to follow your precepts, and therewithall away he went.

He was no sooner gone, but she having determined what to do, sent for her friends, at what time the Alderman comming thi­ther, and Master Doctor, she had also invited Master Peachie and his Wife, and with them came gallant young Nevill.

When they were all set at the table, after they had well tasted of the delicates there prepared: Mistris Farmer told them for [Page] two causes she had requested their companie that day to break­fast: the one was, that master Doctor and young Nevill might be made friends: and the other that in their sight she might make her selfe sure to her husband, that they might be witnes of their vowes.

The companie said, they should be very glad to sée so good a work performed: whereupon shee calling up all her men ser­vants, spake to this purpose. My good friends and kinde neigh­bours, because I will have none ignorant, of that which is to be effected, I have presumed to bring my servants into your presence, that they also may beare record of the reconciliation betwixt Master Doctor and Master Nevill, and therefore my Masters, if your hearts consent to an unitie, declare it by sha­king hands, that it may not bee said, that my house was the bréeder of brawles, and on that condition I drink to you both: the Gentlemen both pledged her, and according to her request [...]nded the quarrell.

When this was done, she merrily told them, that among her men she had chosen her Master: albeit quoth she, this matter may séeme strange in your sight, and my fancie too much ruled by follie, yet this my determination I purpose by Gods grace to follow, hoping it shall bréed no offence to any in the compa­nie, in such a chance to make mine own choice.

Her man Richard, & the rest that supposed themselves most graced by her favours, began at this spéech to look something peart, and all the companie held opinion that she bore the best minde to the foreman of her Shop: for first of all turning her speech to him, she said: Richard come hither, thou hast greatly to praise God for making thée so proper a man, thou art a neat fellow, and hast excellent qualities, for thou art not proud, nor high minded, but hast a care to thy businesse, and to kéepe the Shop: and because I have committed great matters into thy hands, I pray thée go downe and look to thy charge, for I have nothing more to say to thée at this time.

The fellow at these words lookt as blew under the eyes, as a stale Codshead under the gill: and going downe the staires shook his head like one that had a flea in his eare.

Now come hither Iohn quoth she, I must néeds say thou art come of good parents, & thou knowst they bound thee not Pren­tice to fetch oysters from Billinsgate like a Porter, nor to have thy daintie fingers set to drudgerie, therefore good Iohn get you downe after your fellow, for here is nothing for you to doe at this time.

Her man William, that all this while was playing the scul­lion in the kitchin was then sent for, who comming before the companie with his face all begrim'd, and his cloathes all grea­sie, his Mistris spake in this manner. What a slovenlie knave comes here? were not this a fit man think ye to be Master of this house and Lord of my love?

Now by my troth said Mistris Peachie, I never saw a more unhandsome fellow in my life: f [...]e how hee stinkes of kitchin stuffe: what a face and neck hath he? a bodie might set Léekes in the very durt of his lips. I thinke in my conscience thrée pound of Sope, & a barrell of Water is little enough to scowre him cleane: the like flowts used all the rest at poore William, to which his Mistris made this answer.

Good Lord my masters, how much do your sights deceive you? in my sight he looks the loveliest of them all, having a plea­sant countenance, and a good grace, and so pleasing is he in eve­ry part to my sight, that surely if hee will accept of mee for his wife, I will not refuse him for my husband: her friends look­ing one upon another, and marvelling at her spéech, thought verily she had but iested, till such time she took him by the hand, and gave him a kisse.

Whereupon William spake thus unto her: faire Mistris, séeing it hath pleased you, beyond my desert, and contrarie to my expectation to make me so gracious an offer, worthie I were to live a beggar, if I should refuse such a treasure: and thereupon I give you my heart and my hand: and I receive it quoth she, for it is thy vertue and true humilitie that hath con­quered my former conceipts, for few men would have wonne a wife as thou didst. No, how did he win you said Harris Ne­vill? by fetching oysters from Billingsgate quoth she, which I know you would not have done, séeing all the rest of my ser­vants [Page] scorn'd to do it at my request: Sblood quoth Harrie, by feching of oysters: I would have fetch oysters, and mustles, and cockles too, to have got so good a bargaine.

The Alderman and the Doctor lookt strangely at this mat­ter: neverthelesse séeing it was not to be helpt, they commen­ded her choice, saying: it was better for a man in such a case, to be favourable in a womans eyes, then to have much gold in his coffers. Then did she set her black man by her white side, and calling the rest of her servants (in the sight of her friends) she made them do reverence unto him, whom they for his drudge­rie scorned so much before: so the breakfast ended, she wild them a [...]l next morning, to beare him companie to Church, a­gainst which time, William was so daintily tricht up, that all those which beheld him, confest he was a most comely, trim, and proper man, and after they were married, they lived long together in ioy and prosperous estate.

Harrie Nevill became so grieved hereat, that soone after he went from Master Peachie, and dwelt with a Goldsmith, and when he had beene a while there, committing a fault with his Masters daughter, he departed thence and became a Barber-Surgion: but there his Mistris and he were so familiar, that it nothing pleased his Master, so that in halfe a yeare he sought a new service and became a Cook: and then a Comfetmaker dwelling with master Baltazar, where after he grew some­thing cunning, having done some shrewd turne in that place, he forsooke that service: and became a Smith, where their maide Iudeth fell so highly in love with him that he for pure good will which he bore her, shewed his Master a faire paire of heeles: and then practised to be a Ioyner, where he continued till hee heard his Father was sick, who for his abominable swearing had cast him from his favour, but after he had long mist him, and that he could heare no tidings of his untoward and wilde wanton Sonne, hee sent into divers places to en­quire for him, and at last one of this servants lighed where he was, by which meanes he came to his father againe: who in a few yeares after, leaving his life, this sonne Harrie be­came Lord of all his lands: and comming upon a day to Lon­don [Page] with his men waiting upon him, he caused a great dinner to be prepared, and sent for all those that had béen his masters and mistresses: who being come, he thus began to commune with them My good friends, I understand that a certaine kins­man of mine was sometimes your servant, and as I take it, his name was H [...]rrie N [...]v [...]ll: who as I heare, used himselfe but homely toward you, being a very wilde and ungracious fel­low, the report whereof hath béene some griefe to me, being one that alwayes wisht him well: wherefore look what dam­mage he hath done you I pray you tell me, and I am content with reason to sée you satisfied, so that he may have your fa­vours to be made a fréeman.

Surely sir said Peachie for mine own part I can say little, save only that he was so full of love, that he would seldome fol­low his businesse at his occupation: but that matter I fréely forgive and will not be his hindrance in any thing. Marry sir said the Goldsmith, I cannot say to: for truly sir he plaid the théefe in my house, robbing my daughter of her maidenhead, which he nor you is ever able to recompence, though you gave me a thousand pound, yet I thank God she is married and doth well, I am the glader of that said the Gentleman, and for that fault I will give toward her maintenance forty pound.

The Barber hearing him say so, told him that hee had in­iured him as much, and had beene more bold a great deale then became him, whereby (quoth he) I was made a scorne among my neighbours. Tush you speake of ill will said the Gentle­man, if your wife will say so I will beléeve it: to which words the woman made this answer. Good sir, will you beléeve me there was never so much matter, the youth was an honest faire conditioned young man, but my husband bearing a naughty iealous minde, grew suspicious without cause, onely because he saw that his servant was kinde and gentle unto me, and would have done any thing that I requested: notwithstan­ding I have had many a fowle word for his sake, and carried some bitter blowes too, but all is one, I am not the first wo­man that hath suffered iniury without cause: alas good soule said the Gentleman, I am right sorry for thy griefe, and [Page] to make thée amende. I will bestow on thée twentie Angels, so your husband will not take it in dudgin; the woman with a low curste gave him thanks, saying: truly sir I am highly be­holding to you, and truly I shall love you the better because you are so like him. The smith likewise for his maide said all that he might, to whose marriage the Gentleman gave twentie pound: thus after hee had fully ended with them all, hee made himselfe knowne unto them, at what time they all reioyced g [...]eatly, and then after he had bestowed on them a sumptuous dinner, they all departed. And ever after, this Gentleman kept men of all these occupations in his own house, himself being as good a workman as any of them all.

THere dwelt in S. Martins a iollie Shooema­ker, hee was commonly called the Gréene king, for that upon a time he shewed him­selfe before King Henry, with all his men cloathed in gréene, he himselfe being suted all in gréene Satten. He was a man very humorous, of small stature, but most cou­ragious, and continually he used the Fencing: schoole when he went abroad, he carried alwayes a two handed sword on his shoulder, or under his arme: he kept continually thirtie or for­tie servants, and kept in his house most bountifull fare: you shall understand that in his young yeares, his father dying, left him a good portion, so that he was in great credit and estima­tion among his neighbours, and that which made him more happie, was this, that God blest him with the gift of a good wife, who was a very comely young woman, and therewithall very carefull for his commoditie: but he whose minde was al­together of merriment, little respected his profit in regard of his pleasure: insomuch that through his wastefull expence he brought povertie upon himselfe ere he was aware, so that he could not do as he was accustomed: which when his daily com­panions [Page] perceived, they by little and little shund his company, and if at any time he passed by them, perhaps they would lend him a nod, or give him a good morrow and make no more a doe.

And is it true quoth the Gréene king, doth want of money part good company, or is my countenance chaunged, that they do not know me? I have séene the day when neuer a knave of them all, but would have made much of my dog for my sake, and have gi­ven me twenty salutations on a Sunday morning, for one poore pint of Muskadine: and what, hath a throd bare cloake scarde all good fellowship? why though I have not my wonted habites, I have still the same heart: and though my money be gone, my mind is not altred: why then what Iacks are they to reject mée? I, I, now I finde my wives tale true, for then she was wont to say, Husband, husband, refraine these trencher flies, these smooth faced flatterers, that like drones live upon the hony of your labour and sucke away the swéetnes of your substance. I wis, I wis, if once you should come in want, there is not the best of them all, that would trust you for tengroates: by which saying Ile lay my life she is a witch, for it is come as just to pas as Marlins prophe­sie. I would the other day but have borrowed 12 d. & I tride 13 f [...]inds, & went without it: it being so, let them go hang themselvs for I wil into Flanders, that is flat, and leave these slaves to their servill conditions, where I will try if a firkin barrell of butter bée worth a pot of strong béere, and a loade of Holland chéese, better then a gallon of Charnico: and if it be by the crosse of this sword I will neuer staine my credit with such a base commodity againe.

With that he went to his wife, saying: woman dost thou heare? I pray thée looke well to thy busines till I come againe: for why? to drive away melancholy, I am minded to walke a mile or twaine: but husband quoth she, were you there where you layd your plate to pawne? I pray you is it not misused? and is it safe? wo [...]an quoth he I was there, and it is safe I warrant thée, for euer comming into thy hands againe, thou knowest I borrowed but twentie marke on it, and they have sold it for twentie pound: tis gone wife, tis gone. O hu [...]band quoth she, what hard fortune have we to be so ill delt withall? and therewithall she wept, f [...]e quoth he leave thy wéeping, hang it up, let it goe, the best is, it [Page] neuer cost us groate: were our friends living that gave us that, they would give us more: but in vaine it is to mourn for a matter that cannot be helpt, farewell wife, looke to thy house, and let the b [...]s plie their worke. The gréene king having thus taken his l [...]ave, went toward Billings-gate, of purpose to take Barge: w [...]ere by the way hée met with Anthony now now the firkin Fid­l [...] of Finchlane: What master quoth he, well met, I pray whith [...]r are you walking? a [...] how doe all our friends in saint Martins? Will you not have a crash ere you goe?

Y faith Anthony quoth he, thou knowest I am a good fellow, and one that hath not béen a niggard to thée at any time, therefore if thou wilt bestow any musick on me doe, and if it please God that I return safely from Flanders againe, I will pay thée well for thy paines; but now I have no money for musick: Gods-nigs quoth Anthony, whether you have money or no, you shall have mu­sick, I doe not allways request coyne of my feiends for my cun­ning: what, you are not euery body, and séeing you are going be­yond sea, I will bestow a pinte of wine on you at the Salutation: saist thou so Anthony quoth he, in good sooth I will not refuse thy curtesie, and with that they stept into the Tauern, where Anthony cald for wine: and drawing forth his Fiddle began to play, and after he had scrapte halfe a score lessons he began to sing.

Loe ye now Master quoth he, this song have I made for your sake, and by the grace of God when you are gone I will sing it e­very Sunday morning vnder your wives window, that she may know we dranke together ere you parted: I pray thée do so said the Gréene king, and do my commendations vnto her, and tell her at my returne I hope to make merry.

Thus after they had made an end of their wine, and paid for the shot, Anthony putting up his Fiddle departed seeking to change musicke for money: while the Gréene king of Saint Mar­tins sailed in Gravesend Barge. But Anthony in his absence sung this song so often in Saint Martins, that thereby he purchast a name which he neuer lost till his dying day, for euer after men called him nothing but Anthony now now.

But it is to be remembred that the Gréen kings wife became so carefull in her businesse, and governed her selfe with such wis­dome in all her affaires, that during her husbands absence she did not onely pay many of his debts, but also got into her house every thing that was necessary to be had, the which her diligence won such commendations, that her credit in all places was verie good, and her gaines (through Gods blessing) came so flowing in, that before her husband came home, she was had in good reputa­tion with her neighbours: and having no néed of any of their fa­vours, every one was ready to proffer her curtesie, saying good neighbour if you want any thing tell us, and looke what friend­ship we may doe you, be sure you shall find it.

I neighbour quoth she, I know your kindnesse, and may speake thereof by experience: well may I compare you to him that would never bid any man to dinner, but at two of the clocke in the af­ter noone, when he was assured they had fild their bellies before, and that they would not touch his meate, except for manners sake: wherefore for my part I will give you thankes, when I take be­nefit of your proffer.

Why neighbour we speake for good will quoth they: Tis true quoth shée, and so say they that call for a fresh quart to bestow on a drunken man, when they know it would doe him as much good in his bootes as in his belly.

Well neighbour quoth they, God be thanked that you have no [Page] cause to use friends: Mary Amen quoth sh [...]e, for if I had I think I should finde few here, There and the like greetings were often betwixt her and her neighbors.

Til at last her husband came home, & to his great comfort found his estate so good, that he had great cause to praise God for the same, for a warme purse is the best medicine for a cold heart that may be. The gréene king therefore bearing himselfe as brave as ever he did, having sworne himselfe a faithfull companion to his two hand-sworde, would never goe without it.

Now when his auncient acquaintance law him again so gallant, every one was ready to curry favour with him, and many would proffer him the wine. And where before they were wont scorne­fully to thrust him next the kennell, and nothing to respect his povert [...], they gave him now the upper hand in every place, sa­luting him with cap and knée: but he remembring how sleightly they set by him in his néede, did now as sleightly estéeme their flattery, saying: I cry you mercy, me thinkes I have séene your face but I never knew you for my friend. No quoth one, I dwell at Aldersgate, and am your néere neighbor, and so much the worse said the Gréene king: wherefore quoth the other? Because said he, I thinke the place méete for an honester man. I trust sir said his neighbour, you know no hurt by me.

Nor any goodnes quoth the gréene king, but I remember you are he, or one of them of whom once I would have borrowed fortie pence, yet could not get it, if thereby I might have saved fifty lives: therefore goodman hog, goodman cog, or goodman dog, chuse you which, scrape no acquaintance of me, nor come any more in my company, I would advise you, least with my long sword I crop your cowards legs, and make you stand like Saint Martins begger upon two stilts. The fellow hearing him say so, went his wayes, and never durst speake to him afterward.

THe Gréen king being a man that was much given to goe abroad, his wife upon a time, thus made her mone to him: good Lord husband quoth she, I thinke you are the unkindest man alive, for as often as you walke abroad, you were neuer the man that would take me in your company: it is no small griefe to me, while I sit doating at home, every Sunday and Holy-day, to sée how kindely other men walke with their wives, and lovingly beare them com­pany into the fields, that thereby they may have some recreation after their wéekes weary toyle: this pleasure haue they for their paines, but I poore soule could never get such curtesie at your hands: either it must néeds be that you love me but little, or else you are a [...]hamed of my company, and I tell you true you have no reason either for the one or the other. Certainly wife said hée, I should be sorrie to drive any such conceit into thy head, but sée­ing you find your selfe grieved in this kinde, let me intreate thée to be content, and when thou shalt perceive that my love is not small toward thée, nor my liking so bad to be ashamed to have thée goe by my side, Thursday next is Saint Iames day, against which time prepare thy selfe to goe with me to the faire, where by the grace of God Ile bestow a fat Pig upon thée, and there I meane to be merry: and doubt not but I will walke with thee till thou art weary of walking. Nay quoth shee, I should never be weary of your company, though I went with you to the Worlds end: God a mercy for that wife quoth hée, but so doing I doubt I should trie you a very good foote-woman, or a bad flatterer.

Thus it past till Thursday came, in the meane season méeting with two or thrée other shoomakers, he asked them if they would walke with him and his wife to Saint Iames faire: That wee will with all our hearts: but will you not like flinchers flie from your words quoth he? To that (they said) if they did they would forfeit a gallon of wine.

Tush said the gréene king, talke not so me of a gallon of wine, but will you bee bound in twenty pound a péece to performe it? Why what néeds bands for such a matter quoth they? we trust you will take our wordes for more then that. My masters said the greene king, the world is growne to that passe, that words are counted but wind, and I will trust you as little on your word as Long Meg on her honesty: therefore if you will not be bound, chuse, I will make no account of your company. The men hear­ing him say so, knowing him to be a man of a merry mind, af­ter their wits were all washt with wine, to the Scriveners they went, and bound themselves in twenty pound according to his re­quest.

They had no sooner made an end of this merry match, but as they stumbled into another Taverne, who should they méet but Anthony now now: who as soon as he spide the gréen King smiling with a wrie mouth he joyfully imbrac't him with both his hands, saying: what my good master well met, when came you from the other side the water? by my troth you are welcome with all my heart. God a mercy good Anthony quoth he, but how chance you come no more into Saint Martins?

O Master quoth he, you know what a dainty commoditie I made at your parting to Gravesendbarge? Yes mary said the gréene king what of that? why quoth he by singing it under your window, all the merry shoomakers in Saint Martins tooke it by the toe: and now they have made it even as common as a printed Ballad, and I have gotten such a name by it, that now I am cal­led nothing but Anthony now now.

Why Master ile tell you, it hath made me as well acquain­ted in Cheapeside, as the cat in the creame pan: for as soone as the Goldesmiths wives spie mée, and as I passe along by the Marchants daughters, the apes will laugh at me as passes: be­side that all the little boyes in the stréets will run after mée like a sort of Emits. Anthony now now sayes one: Anthony now now another: good Lord, good Lord, you never knew the like: heare ye master? I am sure that song hath gotten mée since you went, more pence then your wife hath pins: and séeing you are come a­gaine, I will make the second part very shortly.

But hearest thou Anthony said he? if thou wilt come to me on Saint Iames his day in the Morning, thou shalt walke with us to the faire, for I meane to make merry with my wife that day: Master quoth he, by cock and pie, I will not misse you. And thus after they had made Anthony drinke he departed.

Saint Iames his day at last being come, he cal'd up his wife betimes, and bad her make her ready, if she would to the faire: who very willingly did so: and in the meane space her husband went to his cubbert, and tooke thereout forty faire soveraignes, and going secretly to one of his servants, he willed him to take good heed of his house, and to sée that his fellowes plide their busi­nesse: for quoth he, I goe with my wife to Saint Iames faire, and perhaps you shall not sée us againe this sennight: Well Master said the fellow, I will have regard to your busines I warrant you. Wherewith he cal'd his wife, saying: come wife will you walke? with a good will husband quoth she, I am ready: with that An­thony now now, began to scrape on his treable viall, and play­ing a huntsup, said good morrow master good morrow, foure a clocke and a faire morning.

Well said Anthony quoth he, we be ready for thy company, therefore along before, and let us heare what musicke you can make. Fie husband quoth she, take not the Fidler with you for shame: tush be content quoth he, Musicke makes a sad mind mer­rie: so away they went, and at Saint Giles in the fields he met the rest of his company: well found my masters quoth he, I per­ceive you have a care of your bonds: so away they went with the Fidler before them, & the Gréene king with his two hand sworde marching like a master of Fenc going to play his prize: when they came to the high way turning downe to Westminster, his wife said: y faith husband we shall come to the faire too soone, for Gods sake let us walke a little further. Content wife quoth he, where­upon they went to Kensington, where they brake their fast, and had good sport by tumbling on the gréene grasse, where Anthony brake his Fiddle, for which cause the Gréene king gave him ten shillings, and willed him to goe back and buy a new one.

And now my friends quoth he, if you will walke with mée to Brainford I will bestow your dinner upon you, because I have a [Page] a minde to walke with my wife? they were content, but by that time they came there, the woman began to wax somewhat wearie, & because the day was farre spent before they had dined, they lay there all night: where he told his friends that the next morning he would bring his wife to sée the George in Colebrook, and then would turne home: but to be briefe, when he came there, he told them flatly he meant to goe to Saint Iames his faire at Bristow: for qûoth he my wife hath longed to walke with me, and I meane to give her walking-worke enough▪ But sir quoth they, we meane not to goe thither: before God but you shall quoth hée, or forfeit your band. The men séeing no remedy, went along to Bristow on foote, whereby the poore woman became so weary, that an hundred times she wisht she had not come foorth of doores: but from that time till she died, she never intreated her husband to walke with her againe.

An hundred merry feates more did he, which in this place is too much to be set downe. For afterward Tom Drum comming from the winning of Mustleborow, came to dwell with him, where he discoursed all his adventures, in the wars: and according to his old cogging humor, attributed other mens deeds to him­selfe, for quoth he, it was I that killed the first Scot in the bat­tell, yet I was content to give the honour thereof to Sir Micha­ell Musgrave, notwithstanding quoth he [...] all men knowes that this hand of mine kild Tom Trotter that terrible traytor, which in despite of us, kept the Castell so long, & at last as he cowardly forsooke it, and secretly sought to flye, with this blade of mine I broacht him like a roasting pigge. Moreover, Parson Ribble had never made himselfe so famous but by my meanes. These were his daily vaunts, till his lies were so manifest that hée could no longer stand in them. But after the Greene king had long lived a gallant house-kéeper, at last being aged and blinde, he dyed, after he had done many good déedes to divers poore men.