• 1. Or rather a retractation.
• 2. Or rather a recantation.
• 3. Or rather a recapitulation.
• 4. Or rather a replication.
• 5. Or rather an examination.
• 6. Or rather an accusation.
• 7. Or rather an explication.
• 8. Or rather an exhortation.
• 9. Or rather a consideration.
• 10. Or rather a confirmation.
• 11. Or rather all of them.
• 12. Or rather none of them.

WHen I had finished the pre­cedent pamphlet, & in mine owne fantasie very sufficient­ly euacuated my head of such homely stuffe, of which it might seeme it was verie full charged, and shewed how litle conceit or opinion I had of mine owne ability to handle stately matters, by chusing so meane a subiect to discharge my selfe vpon: I thought now to rest me a while, and to gather some strength, by feeding on some finer meates, & making some cullesses and restoratiues for my selfe out of some other mens kitchins, & not open this vaine any more. But I la­boured all in vaine to stop such a vaine: [Page] for certaine people of the nature of those that first dwelt in the Canaries, haue for­ced me to a further labour. For whether Canaries were so cal­led, of the dogges that were found in them. it were ouer-watching my selfe at prime­ro, or eating too much venison, which they say is a verie melancholie meate: I know not how, but betimes one morning whē we vse commonly to take our swee­test sleepe, namely betweene eight and halfe houre past ten, I was either in so straunge a dreame, or in so strong a me­lancholie, that me thought there came to me a nimble dapper fellow (I can not hit on his name) one that hath pretie pe­tifogging skill in the law, and hath bin an vnder-shiriffe (but not thrise) and is now in the nature of an Atturney, this honest The saying is Thrise an vn dershiriffe & euer a knaue. friend told me this solemne tale; I was (saith he) yesternight at supper at ( ) Ordinarie, and there met M. Zoilus, M. Momus, and three or foure good natured Gentlemen more of the same crew, and toward the end of supper they fell to talking (as their maner is) of certaine bookes lately come foorth. And one of them told how Lipsyas the great [Page] Politicke (that learned to speake so good English but a while since) had written a booke de Cruce, protesting that though he vnderstood not the language, yet it of­fended his conscience, to see so manie crosses in one booke, and he haue so few in his purse; then they spoke of M. Ray­nolds booke against Bellarmine, but they could find no fault with it, for they said it was of a matter they vsed not to trouble themselues withall: thirdly they descan­ted of the new Faerie Queene & the old both, and the greatest fault they could find in it, was that the last verse disorde­red their mouthes, and was like a tricke of xvij. in a sinkapace. Finally they ran o­uer manie mens writings, saying some wanted rime, some wanted reason, and someboth. One they sayd, was so young, that he had not yet learned to write, ano­ther so old, he had forgotten to write, & was fit now to be donatus rude, as Horace saith. But to make short, at last one of them pulled out of his bosome, a booke that was not to be sold in Paules church­yard, but onely that he had borowed it of [Page] his friend, and it was intituled The meta­morpho-sis of AIAX, at which they be­gan to make maruellous sport: and be­cause it was a rainie night, they agreed to read ouer the whole discourse to passe the time with. First they read the authors name, & though they vnderstood it not, yet that it might not passe without a iest, they swore that it signified Myse in a sack of mosse. They read the letters, and stum­bling once or twice on a figure called Misacmos. Prolepsis or preuention, they were angrie their scoffes were so preuented. But whē they found Rabbles named, then they were at home, they looked for pure stuffe where he was cited for an author. The letters being ended, they perused the pi­ctures, they swore they were fit for a gōg­farmer and a chimney-sweeper. Then And they both be ho­nester occu­pations, then Zoylus and Momus. they fell to the Metamorpho-sis, it plea­sed them well, they sayd it was scurrill, base, shallow, sordidous; the dittie, the dirge, the etymologie, the pictures, gaue matter of iest, of scorne, of derision, of contempt. At last, they came to the true intent (as they thought) of the whole [Page] discourse of reforming Maister AIAX ill breath, why, they were so pleased with it, they were readie to vntrusse, and thought to haue gone to it presently; but when they came to the exposition of the name Misacmos, and found it was a hater of filth, it was such a ierke, that they were halfe out of countenance with it; swoūds saith one of them, this fellow is an ene­mie to vs, for we are counted but filthie fellowes among the graue gray-beardes. But at last, when they were come to the double distichon, directly entituled to thē by name, they had no sooner read it, but there was such spitting & spalling, as though they had bene halfe choked, they thought they should neuer get the tast out of their mouthes, yet they tooke im­mediatly fiftie pipes of Tabacco between Martial saith Quincuncies puto post decem peractos. fiue of them, and an ownce or two of kis­sing comfits. And soone after, swearing ouer a Pater noster or two, and cursing two or three Credoes, (I meane the poxe & three or foure smal curses) they vowed a solemne reuenge, and taking pen and inke, they fell to quoting of it, meeting [Page] with some matter almost in euerie page, either to deride or to carpe at, and when they had done (for it wold make a booke to tell all that passed among them) at last one of them, that had some more iudge­ment, but not lesse malice then the rest, said in great choller, Doth this idle hea­ded writer, because he can tel a tale of old Stercutius out of S. Augustine, think that his wit wil serue him to find meanes to a­mend the ill sauours in Ritchmond and Greenwich? No, if Hercules that serued Augeus, if Atlas that sustained the world, if S. Christopher that is painted at Rich­mond with his cariage, qui tollit peccata mundi, if all these should ioyne with him, I doubt if it could be done. Yet said ano­ther of them (in scoffe) we may thanke him for his good meaning. Nay rather, said a third man in earnest, let vs plague him for his mallapertnesse. In conclusion they all layed their heads together as neare as they could for their brow ant­lers, and deuised to indite you at a priuie Sessions. Some said, you could not be in­dited, That they found in the 44. page. except you were put out of the [Page] peace first; but straight one alledged a president in Wiltshire, of a Iustice indy­ted for a barreter: Now therefore (sayd my litle Atturney) aduise you how to an­swer it, for the Session wil be a purchased Session sooner then you looke for. He had but newe ended his speech, and I had scarce leasure to thanke him, when me thought there rushed into my chamber, a thicke well trussed fellow, with a badge iust ouer his heart, and commaunds me in the name that I loue aboue all names, to go immediatly with him. I must say truly, that though I blessed the name he vsed, and the badge he ware; yet I be­shrewed his heart for bringing me no better newes next my hart, but with him I went (for needes he must go whom the Deuill driues) and yet why should I bely the Deuill? I thinke for fortie shillings more then his fee, he would haue bene seeking me a moneth in euery place saue where I was. But to proceed, me thought this gentle purseuant brought me before an austere and graue Magistrate, whom I greatly loued and honored, to answer to [Page] diuerse obiections and articles that I ne­uer expected to be charged with, I com­forted my selfe as well as I could with an old adage or two, qui vadit plane vadit sa­ne, the plaine way hath the surest footing, and magna est veritas, & praeualet, great is the truth, and preuaileth, and then an­swered my accusers as I could.

The maner of the accusation, was not much vnlike the assault of a towne: for first they skirmished as it were with smal shot, which I bare off with the armour and shield of plaine dealing and honest simplicitie, but finding their forces in­crease, I was glad to retire me into the castle of innocencie, where they made a sore batterie, with Rabbinets, Minions, Sakers, & Demicānons. For as God wold haue it, they had no Cannons, but thus Cannons sig­nifie rules of law. Nowe they are not right cānons but bastard cannōs, that batter inno­cencie. they obiected, and thus I answered.

Some layd to my charge, I was an idle fellow, and shewed by my writings I had litle to do. Alas said I, it is too true, and therefore if you know any man that hath an office to spare, you may doe well to preferre me to it: for it were a bad office [Page] that I would not chaunge for this I haue taken vpon me; and if I had another, I would be content this were deuided a­mong you.

Some said I was [...] ⟨suche⟩ a foole to thinke 2 seriously the deuise worthie to be publi­shed and put in practise; as a cōmon be­nifite, trust me that is true to.

Some supposed, that because my wri­tings now lay dead, and had not bene 3 thought of this good while; I thought (as Alcibiades cut of his dogs tayle, to make the people talke of his curtall) so I wold send my Muse abroad, masking naked in a net that I might say.

Nunc iterum volito viua per ora virum. Of my honor that is not true. Will you deny it on your oth? No by our Lady, not for a thousand pounds.

Some said plainly, because my last work was an other mans inuention, and that 4 some fine phrase-making fellowes, had found a distinction betweene a versifier and a Poet, I wrate this to shew I could be both when I listed, though I meane to be neither, as Thales Milesius, by making [Page] himselfe ritch in one yeare shewde his contempt of ritches. The deuill of the lye that is.

Some surmised against me, that be­cause the time is so toying, that whole­some 5 meates cannot be digested with­out wanton sauce, and that euen at wise mēs tables, fooles haue most of the talke, therefore I came in with a bable to haue my tale heard, I must needs confesse it.

Some said that in emulation of outlā ­dish witts, and to be one of the first En­glish, 6 that had giuen the venter to make the title of his worke the worstpart of it; I was perswaded to write of such an argu­ment, I will neuer denie that while I liue.

Some affirmed that I had taken this laughing libertie to grace som that haue 7 fauord me, and grate against some that had galled me, guiltie my Lord.

Alasse poore Gentleman (say the stan­ders by) he will be condemned certainly for this that he hath confest already, if he be not saued by his booke: let vs heare what he will answere to the rest of the in­ditement.

[Page] You did meane some disgrace in the 8 letter afore the booke and in many passa­ges of the booke it selfe, to Ladies and Gentlewemen. Who I? God damne me if I loue thē not, I feare more to be dam­ned for louing them too well.

You did thinke to scoffe at some Gētle­men 9 that haue serued in some honorable seruices, though with no great good successe. As Iam a Gentlemā not guilty: neither do I meane any, but such as will needs be called M. Captains, hauing nei­ther caried out with them, not brought home with them, worth, wealth, or wit.

You did seeke to discredit the honest 10 meaning & laudable endeuours of some zealous & honest men, that seeke for re­formatiō, & labour faithfully & fruitful­ly in the word. To this in all & euerie not guiltie, prouided they rayle not against bishops nor against the Cōmuniō book.

You did intend some scorne to great 11 Magistrats & men in authority, either a­liue or deceassed, vnder couert names to couer som knauery. Knauery? no as God Iudge me my Lord, not guiltie, the good [Page] yeare of all the knauerie and knaues to for me. By whō will you be tryed? By the Queene and the Ladies, by the Counsell and the Lordes. What sawcie younker will not meaner tryall serue you? No good faith my Lord, I loued alwayes to be the worst of the companie.

Well sirra this is the Iudgement of the Court, that because there is hope you may prooue a wiser man hereafter, and that you haue some better friendes then you are worthie of, you shall haue this fauour; if the indiment happen to be found, you shall trauers it, and you shall chuse xij. free holders bonos & legales ho­mines, that shal enquire of the qualitie of your discourse, and bring in their verdict quindena Paschae & if they find you guilty, you shall haue a hole bored in your eare. What to do? to weare my M ^rs. fauour at? Now, God saue your M ^rs. life my Lord. Clarcke of the peace draw his endytemēt vpō the foure last articles that he denied, & vpō the Statute of Scādala, for I tel you Anno 1. 2. Ph. M. Cap. 3. Anno. 23. Elis. Cap. 2. we must teach you to learne the lawes of the Realme, as well as your rules of Poe­trie. [Page] Lawes? I trow I haue the law at my fingers endes.

Wherefore you shall find I will keepe me safe enough from scandaling. And if you do, it is the better for you.

What is your name? Misacmos. What it is a Welche name I thincke? of whence do you write your selfe? Misac­mos of Carnaruā Gentlemā. Who made you of Carnaruā? She that made you of England. Well you shall fare neuer the worse for that, but looke to the answe­ring I meane no Lawyer of our time, but one that Martiall speakes of. of your endytement I aduise you. What must I haue no coūsell? Straight a bigge fellow with a beggin on his head, [Page] and his gowne of of one shoulder, cryes no, the Queene is a partie. But I had ra­ther your gown were of the other, shoul­der & your head after, then you should make her a partie against me, & yet as ill as I loue you, I wold my secōd sonne had chaunged possibillities with your eldest for a thing that I know, and thus after a few wrangling wordes, me thought the Court rose for that time, and suddenly my man came busling into my chamber and told me, that all the Gentlemen that had bene riding on the heath were come backe againe, and that it was neare xi. of the clocke, and straight I called for my sute of Abrizetta, and made all the hast I could to make me readie, not so much as tarying to say my prayers, least I might not come time enough to the peace of God at the closet, and so I might be in daunger to loose my dynner.

But hauing somewhat better ponderd with my selfe this foresaid fancie, I was somewhat troubled with it, not so much for those hanging Metaphors, for as a good Knight of our country sayd, gogs [Page] soule sirs, the best Gētlemā of vs all need not forsweare hāging, but that I thought that my Genius hereby presaged to me some perill to my reputation, of the sun­drie sensures I should incurre by letting such a Pāphlet fly abroad at such a time, when euerie thing is taken at the volley, and therefore I held it not vnnecessarie, as much as in me lay, to keep it from the view and censure of all such as were like to deride it, despise it, or disgrace it, and to recommend it onely to all such as I thought wold allow it & approue it. For to confesse the truth frankly to you my good cosins [...] , I desire not altogether to haue it cōcealed, least som hungrie promoting fellowes should beg it as a concealement, and begge the au­tor also, for writing a thing that he were ashamed to shew, but if I might gouerne the matter as I would, I would generallie recōmend it only to such as haue houses and families of their own. For I remem­ber I haue read of a certaine king of the Lacedemonians, that being one day pri­uat in his garden, was teaching one of his [Page] sonnes of fiue yeares old to ride on a sticke, and vnawares a great Ambassa­dour came to speake with him, & found him in the manner: at which, both the king, and the Ambassadour in the kings behalfe began to blush at first; but soone after, the king put away the blush, & the hobbie horse together, and with a pretty smile asked the Ambassadour, if he had any litle children of his owne? He answe­red no. Then said he, I pray you tell not what you found me doing, till you haue some litle ones of your owne, and then tell it, and spare not.

For euen so, I would request men to forbeare reading of this discourse, or at least reprouing of it; till they had of their owne that, that would make them know the commoditie and cleanlynesse of it, & for those that will not, I would but wish them (as Martiall wishes to Charinus. Quid imprecabor ô seuere Liuēti. Opto Mu­los habeat & suburbanum) so I would, they could ride on their footcloth, and had a house, and A IAX of their owne. Yet surely it may be, it were the wisest way to [Page] show it to none at all, and so I halfe wish sometimes, but because euerie generall rule must haue his exception, you shall see whom I would be content both the discourse, and the deuise may be shewed vnto.

First to a good and iudicious scholer, 1 for he will reade it, eare he will iudge of Directions for shewing the booke. it, and say omnia probate; & then perhaps after he hath read it, he will smile, and say it is some young schollers worke, that would haue shewed more wit if he had had it; but it is well, ridentem dicere verū quis vetat, &c: and then he wil say, it were good, some of his friends would aduise him to spend his talent, and his time on some better subiect. But some supercili­ous fellow, or some stale scribe, that thinke men will not iudge them to be learned, except they finde faults; they will sweare, a man would haue written as well, that had read but Marcus Aurelius.

Secondly, I would haue it shewed to a 2 housekeeper, that hath much resort to him, for it were not onely a deede of cha­ritie to helpe such a one, but a sinne to [Page] hide it from him; for else he may picke a quarrell (and say) that this same compa­nie hath so stencht vp his house, that he A common excuse of such as breake vp house. must be forced to lye at London, till his house be made sweeter.

Thirdly, if one be a builder and no 3 house-keeper, let him see it to, for he loues to haue all fine for his heire; and perhaps I would be content for the loue I haue had to that humour, that my ma­ster his sonne, were maried to his mistres my daughter; as Heywood saith of a lu­stie old widower that woed a young wo­man, and boasting how well he would prouide for his sonne.

But if one be a builder, & a housekeeper both; then I will come home to his house to him, I will reade him a lecture of it, I will instruct his workeman, I will giue him plots and models, and do him all the seruice I can: for that is a man of my own humor, & a good common wealths­man; but yet I will giue him a caueat in his eare, that I learned of Sir Thomas [Page] More, if his purse be not well furnisht.

Aedificare domos multas, & pascere multos, est ad pauperiem, semita laxa nimis.

The way from wealth, and store, to want, and neede,

Is much to build, and many mouthes to feed.

Fourthly, if you would know whether 4 you should show it to Ladies? Yea in any wise to all maner of Ladies, of the Court, of the country, of the City, great Ladies, lesser Ladies, learned ignorant, wise sim­ple, fowle welfauoured, (painted vnpain­ted) so they be Ladies, you may boldly pre fer it to thē. For your milkmayds, & coū ­try housewiues, may walke to the woods to gather strawberies, &c. But greater states cannot do so; & therfore for thē it is a cōmoditie more thē I will speake of, ‘yet for a touch vpon this point, make me but a good ryme to this line after dinner. VVithin yon tower, there is a flower, that holds my hart.’

Howbeit, you must not show it after one fashion to all, but to the wise and so­ber, after a plaine fashion; to the wanton and waggish, after another fashion; as [Page] namely, if they cry (fie for shame) when they heare the title read, or such like; do but you say (for company) that it is a mad fantasticall booke indeed, and when you haue done hide it away, but where they may finde it, and by the next day, they wilbe as cunning in it as you: for this is not the first time that I haue said of such a kinde of booke.

Fiftly, you may shew it to all amorous yoūg youthes, that wil scratch their head but with one finger at once (as Cato no­ted of Caesar) and had rather be noted of three disorders in their liues, then of one in their lockes; and specially if they be so cleanely, that they will not eat pottage (no not alone) but that they will wipe their spone betweene euerie spone-full, for feare least their vpper lip should in­fect the neither: for I would thinke cer­tainly, that such a one, if he be so cleanly as he would seeme to be, would make great account of A IAX so well refor­med. [Page] But yet the world is so full of dissi­mulation, and hypocrisie, that we of the plainer sort may be easily deceiued; for I heard of one the last day, in a towne a hundred myle from London, that had engrossed all the fine fashions into his handes; of the curling, perfuming, wy­ping the spone, &c: and yet after all this cleanlynesse, went to as common, and as deformed A IAX of the feminine gen­der, as any was in the towne, and then a­las, what will such a one care for my de­uice. Lastly, I would haue it shewed to all good fat corpulent men, that carry with them a writ of Corpus cum causa, for Prayse [...] fat men. they are commonly the best natured mē that be; without fraud, without treche­rie, as Caesar said of Anthonie, and Dolo­bella, that he neuer mistrusted them for any practise, because he saw they were fat, but rather Casca and Cassius, that were leane hollow fellowes, and cared not for a good dinner: And therefore I would be censured by those good fellowes that haue lesse gall, and the rather, because I looke euery day for presse money frō the [Page] Captaine, to be imployed in the con­quest of that country, and this engyn of Lubbet land. mine is like to be in great request for those seruices. But me thinkes, you may say that here is a maruellous restraint made of showing this discourse of mine; not much vnlike to our stage keepers in Cambridge, that for feare least they should want companie to see their Co­medies, go vp and downe with vizers, and lights, puffing and thrusting & kee­ping out all men so precisely; till all the towne is drawne by this reuell to the place; and at last, tag and rag, fresh men and subsizers, & all be packt in together, so thicke, as now is scant left roome for the Prologue, to come vpon the stage: for so you may suppose, that I would barre all frō this Pamphlet of mine, saue those, that can write, or read, or vnderstād. But if you take it thus, you do much mistake it; for there be diuers from whō I would keepe it, as I would from fire and water, as for example.

First, from a passing proud fellow, such 1 a one as Naaman the Syrian, that would Foure sortes of men, that [Page] disdaine to wash in Iordan, though it would cure him of the Leprosie, or the will mislike of the bo [...] ‘pox; & to such for my part, I would wish they might lay all in their gold breeches, rather then to abase their high conceits, so much, as to thinke vpon poore Master A IAX.’

Secondly, from all manner of fooles 2 and iesters, whether they be artificiall, or naturall; for these be so dull; they cannot tast the salt, in a peece of well powdred writing; and those be so tart, they will rather loose a friend thē a iest: yet if their railing were allaide a litle, with the two excellent vertues, of flattring, and beg­ging; one might hope for some kindnesse at their hands.

Thirdly, if you spie a fellow with a bay 3 leafe in his mouth, auoyd him, for he ca­rieth a thing about him worse then Mai­ster A IAX, that all the deuises we haue cannot reforme.

Fourthly, if you see a stale leane hun­grie 4 poore beggerly thridbare Kauallie­ro, like to Lazorelloes maister, that whē he dined at his owne house, came foorth [Page] with more crūmes of bread on his beard, then in his belly, and that being descen­ded of diuerse Nobilities, wil do a meane gentleman the honour to borow ten shil­lings of him: shew it not him, for though he can say nothing against it, yet he will leere vnder his hat, as though he could speake more then he thinkes: For such a one that mak's not a good meale at home once in a moneth, hath not a good stoole aboue once in a weeke, and then he will neuer say vs Gramercie for it: and this I may say to you, is a consideration of no small importance, for though I must ac­knowledge, that is not one of the meri­torious workes▪ I looke to be saued by, yet to haue a prayer or two from some, that perhaps neuer say prayer any where else, would do me no hurt, nor them neither. And me thinke I might much better deserue a kn-aue Mery to be said for me, where my stately A IAX is admitted, & standes men in steed; then he, for whose soule the young Gentlemā, the first time he cōsumated his mariage with his wife, said a Pater noster; and being asked for [Page] whom he prayed, he told his wife, it was for his soule that had taken the paines to make his way, so easie for him. Oh Sir said she, it is a signe you haue trauelled such wayes more then an honest man should haue done that you are so cunning, and so they became good friendes. But ware ryot hoe, whither am I running? I said I would keepe me from scandaling, but if I stop not betime, some will thinke to haue their action in the case against me; yet it is good to cast the worst. Suppose that for my bad indyting I should be in­dyted, as it is twentie to one but if the graūd Iurie were packt by a bad Shiriffe, out of those foure last mentioned sutes Proud Fooles Beggers. (and of three of them, you shall haue a full apparaunce in most Courts of Chri­stendome) they will sure say billa vera, though they should say of right nothing but ignoramus. But see see, euen with thinking of it I fall againe into my former melancholie, me thinke the in­dytemēt is foūd, I am arraigned, I plead not guiltie, I would still be tryed by the Nobilitie, by such as build stately pal­laces [Page] and keepe great Courts, but it will not be graunted me, I must haue none but freeholders; I chaffe at it, and would appeale; they cry it is not the course of the cōmō law, I praise the Ciuill law; for there a man may hold play with appea­ling, if he haue a litle idle money to spēd, three or foure yeare. At last comes the litle dapper fellow my honest Atturney, that knew better the course of these mat­ters then I did, and he roundes me in the eare, and tells me that for fortie shil­lings to Maister high Shiriffes man that weares rhe russet sattin doublet, and the yellow silke stockings, he will vndertake, I shall haue a Iurie of good freeholders: but for the Nobilitie it is out of their cō ­missiō; & Sir (saith he) what need you to stand so much on the Nobilitie, conside­ring you desire to haue none, but great housekeepers, and builders? For suppose you could get 3. or foure to appeare. One at Petworth, an other hard by, there at Coudrey (where in the old Vicoūts time Iupiter hospitales is said to haue dwelt) and the young Lord I heare doth patry [Page] sare, or rather I should say Auisare, (and that is a good word, if he will marke it.) Say also another dwelt at Ragland in Monmouth shire, where I heard a good Knight of Glostershire affirme, the most honorable house of that Realme was kept: & a fourth at Nonesuch, where the house-keeper for true English Noblesse and honour, deserues the name, better then the house. But when you shal thinke to make vp the Tales, where wil you haue them? some will be non est inuentus in ba­liua, some that you loue best, will not be perhaps intra quatuor maria; wherefore the Iudge was your friend more then you were aware, that giues you choise of freeholders.

Beleeue me (said I) I thinke it is so in deede, hold thee my litle dappert knaue, there is fortie shillings for Maister Shi­riffes man, to buy him another paire of silke stockings, and there is fortie pence Wooden stockes were fitter for thē then silke stockings. for thy good counsell, and see you finde me a Iurie of substantiall free-holders, that are good house-keepers to trie my honestie by. He goeth and ere an Ape [Page] can cracke a nut (as they say) he brings the names, and Maister Cryer he comes twentie shillings in his shoes, and cals thē though he be sure they cannot heare him. As followeth.

Iohn Harington of Exton, in the Coū ­tie of Rutland Knight, aliâs Iohn Har: 1 of Burleigh, in the Countie aforesaid, aliâs of Combe, in the Countie of War­wick, aliâs of Ooston, in the Countie of Leicester; come into the Court, or else, &c. Hath he free hold? Yea he is a pretie free-holder in all these shires: Moreouer saith a third mā, though he be a free-hol­der; yet he hath maried his daughter to one, that for a grandfather, for a father, for two vncles, & three or foure auntes, may compare with most men in Englād. Lastly a fourth said, & foure hūdred cō ­firme it, that he relieues many poore, & sets them to worke; he builds not onelie his own houses, but Colledges, and Ho­spitals. Mary Sir, then shall he be fore­man of my Iurie with all my verie hart, a builder and a house-keeper both, you cānot deuise to please me better. I would [Page] there were a decem tales in euerie shire in England, & on that cōdition, I would be glad to be one of them. Well, what haue you to say to Sir Iohn Harington? Mary this. Here is one Misacmos, that is accu­sed by some diligent officers and good But enquire what the good Lord of Bedford called them. seruants of the state, to be a writer of fan­tasticall Pamphlets, to corrupt manners; the same suspected of diuers vntruthes, and treasons, not sparing the Maiesties of Kings, and great Emperours (saying one was a cuckold and a foole, an other had an ill face, as in the Pamphlet it selfe more plainly appeareth) now because it seemes he is a Gentleman, and of reaso­nable good breeding; he craues to be tried by a substantiall Iurie, of which, for many respectes, he will haue you to be the forman. He pleads to all the prin­cipall matters not guiltie, and iustifies, that those things they call vntruth, and treason, are truth, and reason. He is to be tried, by God and country, which coun­try you are, wherefore your charge is (if it please you) to read the whole Treatise at your leasure, and then to say how you [Page] like it. He saith further, he cares not to haue you sworne, because your word will be taken for a greater matter then this, by ten thousand pounds without oth. Iu­rie Harington.

Who is next? Sir Iohn Peeter of [...] ⟨Thorne⟩ ­den 2 in the Countie of Essex Knight, a good house-keeper, and a builder both. Hath he free hold? Yea so so, I thinke he may we are veluet and sattin, by the Sta­tute of (4. & 5. Phil. Ma▪) for he may dis­pend twentie markes a yeare vltra repri­sas. Well, because he is a builder and a house-keeper, I hope he will not deny me to be of my Iurie. The same charge, &c: that Sir Iohn Harington tooke you, &c: and so long may you keepe a good house. Iurie Peeter.

Sir Iohn Spenser Knight, a good sub­stantiall free-holder in Northampton 3 shire, and a good house-keeper, and so was the father afore him: Oh I remem­ber him, he had a poore neighbour once dwelt at Holmeby, that made foure verses if I haue not forgot them, were fortie shillings out of his way.

By S. Mary he had good cause to say, well fare a good Mistresse, or else Holm­by had bin ioyned to your freehold. How say you worthy Knight (& the best man There were Earles of the Spensers. of your name that is, but not that hath bene) will you be of our Iurie? You will say you know not this same Misacmos. It may be so verie well; for I thinke the fel­low doth scarce know him selfe at this instant, and yet he learned [...] twentie yeares ago. Well, I presume you will not refuse it: for though you neuer heard of him, it seemes he hath heard of you. I will tell you two or three good to­kēs, you haue three or foure sisters, good well fauored, well featured, wel statured, well natured women, for plaine country wenches; and they were maried to men, a step, or two, or three, or foure, aboue the best yeomā of Kent (wel fare all good tokens) and one of them is a widow, I be­shrow their harts, & I would their wiues [Page] were widowes that made her so. I trow it was Sir Iames Harington, and your fa­ther, that went a begging to make a purse to marie their daughters; but you will make a hundred of vs go a begging, if we should follow you: will you haue any more tokens yet? you had a brother of Lincolnes Inne; and an other they say keepes a good house, for I weene the best house-keeper in England was at his house; yet one token more, you haue a learned writer of your name, make much of him, for it is not the least honour of your honorable familie. Iurie Spencer.

Thomas Stanop Knight, of Shelford in the Countie of Notingham a house-keeper, 4 a builder, a substantiall freehol­der, come into the Court. Alasse Sir he is lame he cannot come. Is he so indeed? I am sory for it: I haue heard that he hath borne some sway in his country, yet bid him not forget the old prouerbe, a good friend in the Court, is worth a penie in the purse at all times. Well, if he cannot come let vs haue an other. Oh Sir (saith one) stay but a Pater noster while, and you [Page] may haue his sonne in his place. What (Maister Iohn Stanop my old Schoole­fellow, an honest & valiant Gentleman) I will tarrie for him with all my hart. To the next.

Mathew Arundell Knight, of War­der 5 in the Countie of Wiltshire a good freeholder, and a builder. Tush he is no housekeeper, so said one that dwels three score myle to Trent Northward. Is it so? I will know within this moneth, if it be so or no; In the meane season, I will venter to take him if I can meet with him. For first I doubt, if he him selfe that said so, haue spēt so much in honorable seruices as this freeholders sonne hath done. Se­condly, I haue seene both Lords, and La­dies, as well intertained in his poore house, and serued in as fine plate, and Porslin, as any is in the North. And ad­mit he were no housekeeper, yet I would haue him, because I heare he is a good horsekeeper, a red deare keeper, a fallow Horse-kee­per. deare keeper, and other such base things, as may enable him for my Iurie. Come on old father Peleus, he lookes like [Page] Prester Iohn in his furred night cap; but he hath more wit vnder that cap, then two or three of his neighbours. Will it please you Sir, to be of our Iurie? It shall cost the life of one of the bald faced buckes else. What are you angry, I call you Peleus? If I were but an other Pro­motheus, I would sweare your fortune should be; to be like Peleus: for the time was, that one wrate of your Thetis, when she waited on Diana at Hatfield.

Whist? peace (saith my litle Atturney in mine eare) you that are so full of your Poetry, we shall haue a new endytement framed against you vpon the Statute of Rogues. For telling of fortunes. Haue you a verse for that too? Yes Mary haue I Sir.

[Page] Notwithstanding I trust a man may by poetica licentia, and by example of Vir­gill, tell fortunes that be past; yet litle said is soone amēded; howbeit, I will not forget to be thankefull to this good Knight, for one speciall fauour he did me. And that was; he made me go when I was with him at Warder, to as stately AIAX house (for a sommer house) and as sweete, as any can be; in a standing made in an Oke, that hanges ouer a ponde, and maruell not I call it stately: for this Maister AIAX, if you bring but an Angle rod, and a crosbow with you; will affoord choise of three royall sports, to kill deare, foule, and fish; now this I take it, was more then cōmon kindnesse, and somuch for Iurie Arundell.

Frauncis Willoughby Knight, of 6 Wollerton in the Countie of Notting­ham, a good freeholder, a housekeeper, and a great builder. Oh my neighbour, that dwels a hūdred myle from me, & yet but a hedge partes our land; good mor­row neighbour, with the faire house, the faire wife, and the faire liuing. Tout beau, [Page] tout beau. I pray you let vs haue a faire verdict from you in our matter; or else I will promise you, I will rather lye in the worst Inne in Notingham, then in the fairest bedchamber in your house; and if you will be of our side, I will pray that all your fayres, may be the fayrer, one for an other. Iurie Willoughby.

Iohn Berin Knight, of the same Coū ­tie, 7 a great good housekeeper. Marie Gods blessing on his hart for it. Indeede I remēber they would say, that Sir Iohn Berin for Notinghamshire, was as great a housekeeper, as Sir Edward Baynton in Wiltshire: and then I will be sworne, he was a good one. Well, let vs make much of him, for there is but a few of thē left; I trust he will not refuse me, for my Iu­rie. Iurie Berin.

George Sampoole Knight, a Lincoln­shire man, and a Lincolns Inne man; a good freeholder, & keepes a goodhouse in his country (as I heare) but I know my neighbours of Bath will affirme, that he kept good hospitalitie there: and that he & his faire Ladie both, are a worthie, ver­tuous, [Page] & a godly couple. Well, let them be as godly as they may, and as perfect in the Scripture as Priscilla and Aquila; I hope they will not denie, but I haue good authorities, for my teshe, and giue a friendly verdict. Iurie Sampoole.

Raph Horsey Knight, the best house­keeper in Dorsetshire, a good freehol­der, a Deputie Lieutenant. Oh Sir, you keepe haukes, and houndes, and hunting horses; it may be some mad fellow will say, you must stand in the Bath vp to the chinne, for spēding fiue hundred pounds, According to the tale, in the hun­dred merie tales. to catch hares, & partridges, that might be taken for fiue pounds. But if you do come to Bath (so you will be one of my Iurie) I will stand as deepe in the bath as you, and it is odds, but at the spring and fall, we shall meet good company there. I pray you giue a friendly verdict, for old acquaintance between Kings Colledge, and Trinitie Colledge. Iurie Horsey.

Sir Hugh Portman of Orchard, in the Countie of Somerset Knight, a good housekeeper, a builder, and a substantiall freeholder. Marie Sir I might ill haue [Page] spared him. Come my good Knight, I haue kept you in store for a dead lift; I hope you will sticke close to vs, for the Law; for you haue as much if you list to shew it, as some that weare coyfes. Be­sides, you haue that same soueraigne medicine against the consumption, cal­led aurum potabile: & I know your neigh­bours of Taunton say, you are liberall of it; and for your good hospitalitie, your neighbours of the Court wil say, you are no niggard of your meate. Yet I remem­ber one day, when I told a good friend of yours; that I was sure you neuer tooke vsurie: well (saith he) though I graunt he doth many men kinde pleasures, yet he doth them not all gratis. I promised him I would tell you so, and to pick a further thanke, I will tell you what I answered him. (For I guessed at his meaning, by meanes I had once some smattering of the Latin toung) if your gratis (quoth I) Gratis signifi­eth to thāk­full persons. But gratis the aduerbe signifies freely. be an adiectiue, the fault is theirs, & the prayse is his.

Well Sir Hugo, I will come shortly and see your new builded Orchard (I [Page] thinke there is not two better Orchards in England, and put Kent to it) and when we haue conferred, for reforming one fault there (you can smell my meaning I am sure) then would I aske your opiniō, which makes a man happier, to be wise, or ritch. I asked a Philosopher once, and (he said) he could not tell, because he still saw the wise men wayte, at the ritch mens doores. Well happie are you if you can decide this question, and happier if you cannot decide it. A ritch man, a wise mā, a builder, and specially a bacheler. Fran­co, sciolto, slegato, ô che felice stato. Wher­fore keepe you so still, and beleeue me it is the happiest state, yet tell not my wife that I say so, for (of my honestie) she will make me vnsay it again, with all my hart. Iurie Portman. Cryer count them.

Sir Iohn Harington, one. Sir Iohn Peeter, two. Sir Iohn Spencer, three. Sir Thomas Stanop, foure. Sir Mathew A­rundell, fiue. Sir Frauncis Willoughby, six. Sir Iohn Berin, seuen. Sir George Sampoole, eight. Sir Raph Horsey, nine. Sir Hugh Portman, ten: whop, why how [Page] now Maister K. Shiriffes mā? Here is but ten, Giue me a noble, of my 40. shillings backe againe. Oh speake soft Sir, you shal haue a tales for two more, the best we can get, but we can finde you no more Knights. There is two names more for you. Who haue we here? Raph Sheldon of Beeley, in the Countie of Worcester Esquire. Thomas Markham Gētleman. First let vs see what this same Sheldō is. Hath he freehold? Yea Sir. He is a good freeholder, a great house-keeper, a buil­der, an excellent common wealthes man as any is in all his country; I will warrant you, he will be for you. Not too much of your warrants. What said Harry Tuttle What is a knaues war­rant worth? A by word of Somerset shire. to his graūdfather? Giue me leaue I pray you a litle, I haue heard he is an vnthrift, I haue forgottē at what game it was, but I am sure it was said; if he had not had faire play playd him, he was in daunger within these two yeares, to haue lost his lād, by one plea or other. By the masse it is true, there was such a matter. Wel, let And let him pray for Traiās soule. with S. Gre­gorie. him thāke a guiltlesse cōsciēce, & a gra­cious Princesse, that he sped no worse. [Page] Oh these same oues, & boues, & pecora cāpi, a flocke of white sheepe in a greene field, and a new house on a high hill; I tell you, they be perillous tempting markes to shoot at.

It is straunge to see the world, not halfe a yeare before I heard one that was a great Courtier say, that he thought him one of the sufficientest wise men of England, and fittest to haue bene made of the Counsell, but for one matter; and indeed by Cornelius Agrippa his rule, that is a right Courtiers commendacion: For after they haue roued three or foure idle words to praise a man, straight they mar all at the buts: I would to God for their own sakes, & mine too, they could leaue it. Well Maister Sheldon, I pray you be of our Iurie, for you haue made a fine house at Weston (but I know one fault in it. Now though I praise your house like a Courtier with a but, you must bring in your verdict, like a plaine countryman, without the but.

Thomas Markham Gētlemā come to the Court, which Markham is this? black [Page] Markhā keeper of Bescowd, why he is a Squire, I trow I haue a verse for it, made by a most honorable Poet.

Yea it is true; but the case is altered since: for that same good Knight is lame, or else I dare answere he would haue ap­peared ‘on this Iurie him selfe (and his sonne is an honorable Gentleman and a great states man may do a man displea­sure about the Queene, it is not good troubling of him.) If it be that Markham’ I will none of him, for I heard a noble Philosopher of the same coate that the Poet was, say that he is a Stoicke, and I will no Stoickes of my Iurie; of the two extremes I would rather haue Epicures. Besides that, I would haue no such black fellowes, for we shall haue some of these Poetrie men say, as one said of Sir Harry Goodyeare when he wrote Candida sint comitū Goodyeeri nil nisinigrum, he wrate vnderneath it. Hic niger est, hunc tu Regi­na caueto, a goodyeare on him for his good caucat, for he hath had since some [Page] young scholers that haue learned to put in the like caueats. Caue credas take heed you trust him not, but Tullie saith in his Oration pro Ligario; nōne omnem humani­tatem exuerunt? Haue they not cast away all sence of humanitie? And a litle after saith the same Tully of Caue ignoscas; Haec nec hominis, nec ad hominem vox: qua qui apud te C. Caesar vtetur, suam ipsi citius abij­cient humanitatē, (quam) extorquebunt tuā, thus in Englād. Take heed you pardon not. O lewd speech, not fit to be spoken of a mā nor to a man, which speech, whosoeuer shal vse to thee (ô more then Caesar) shall sooner discouer their own cruell inclina­tiō, then extort frō thee thy naturall cle­mencie. O deuine Tullie, is not this Chri­stianly spoken of a heathē? were not that heathenishly spokē of a Christian? Well he that should put in such a caueat for me, I would follow presently a quare im­pedit, why I might not present him for a cnave at litle Brainford & lesse honesty.

Thomas Markham Gentleman, come to the Court; Yet againe? I tell thee I will none of him, one said he lookt blacke on [Page] him: yea, but he that foūd such fault with In memoria aterna erit iu­stus. his complexiō, I heard one tell him was dead, and he answeredverie charitablie; young he was, & poore he was, & knaue accused and said, Lopus had bid him say, he was a daungerous man, with Caue credas. Tanquā ster­cus, memoria impiorum. he was, and so God haue mercy on his knaues soule. Faith that is like enough to be his answer. Thē it may be he is cleare otherwise, though he look black. Cleare, yea on my word. Cādido piu nel cuor che di fuor Cigno. What is that? Rara auis in ter­ris nigro (que) simillima Cigno; iust as Iermins lips, now you haue compared him well, as white as a blacke swan. Wel I haue no minde to haue him of my Iurie, he is but a poore freeholder, he hath no credit. No credit? why his bond hath bene taken for twentie thousand pounds. Hath it? more foole he, I will neuer trust him for halfe so much, I pray thee looke me some bet­ter freeholder. Why Sir? I aduise you do you not scorne him, though he be no Knight, he had a Knight to his father, & hath a Knight to his sonne, you may well admit him of your Iurie. I tell thee my litle knaue, thou doest presse me beyond good maners, I wil not haue him. Harke [Page] in your eare, they say he is Mal-content. A lewd libell made at the death of the Lord Chan­cellour Hat­ton. Who saith so? Nay who saith not so? Vntō is vndone, Markham is mal-content. Who hath not heard that? wherefore make no more a do, but send me for his nephew Robert that came of the elder house, and of the bloud of Lācaster, he that Maister Secretarie Walsinghā gaue the Arabian horse, I would haue him, he is a fairer cō ­plectioned mā by halfe, and in sadnesse I wish him well. Hey hoe: what doest thou sigh? Alasse sir he wold come with all his hart, but he is busie sitting on a commis­sion, (I haue forgotten in what Benche it Kings Bēch. is) and when he hath done there, he must go they say to an other Bēche at Oxford. Penilesse Bench. What Robert Markham of Cottam, so honest a Gentlemā, so good a housekee­per, so well descended, so well affected in Religion, & become such a Bencher, that when he is called is forth comming, but not comming forth, I am sorie I can do him no pleasure, I would his best cosen did know it. The time hath bene that if he could haue walked with a litle sticke like a ragged staffe on his sleeue, or if he [Page] had had but a walking hynde, or a ram­ping stag, or the white birde, that is such a beautie to the Thamis, he should not haue layne so long after his resting. Well then I perceiue the world goeth hard on all the Markhams sides; I thinke they be all Mal-contēts, they shall none of thē be of my Iurie, I pray God they do not say that I am of kinne to them, for indeede my name Misacmos begins with an M. what if one should write Miscamos is mal content? I would leape vpon the letter, & replie. By your leaue you lye, like a lowt lewd Maister Libeller. But Markham is mal-content, how proue you it? Scriptum est enim, for it is written, but it is in libro fictitio I would you could name me your authour; yet let vs examine this ignoto, if he say true. Let vs do him the fauour that men do to Astronomers, if they tell but Agrippa. one true tale, beleeue him in a hundred lyes, sure you lyed in all the rest good M. Libeller, for first he that you said was vn­done, The Libell is thus. Vmpton is vn­done. Markham is mal-content. liued to do more seruice for his country, then euer you will do, and ma­ny things are left vndone by his death, [Page] that might perhaps haue bin much bet­ter Flower fadeth. done; & he that you said fadeth, doth now florish with a guilt axe in his hand, Swale waileth. in a much more honorable seruice, & he Dodge doub­teth. that you said wayled, is well and merie (he thankes you not) and he you said was Bancroft is bankrout. bankrout, payes the Queene more subsi­die, then you and I both, I dare lay a wa­ger; Hatton is, Hat of. and the other two, the one neede not go bare head, for want either of hat or haire, and the other will neither dodge nor doubt to shew his face as you do. Wherefore M. Libeller (though in this matter you are cited, & beleeued better then S. Austen) yet I beleeue you not in saying Markhams be mal-contents; and yet at a venture, I would you had the causes of discontent that they haue, so they had none of them; but thus I will distinguish vpon the authority alledged; that taking Mal-content as an honest mā might take it; namely a mā sorowfull for the grieuous losse of his greatest friend; the vngratefull re quitals of most kinde & friendly offices; the vnaduised reuolt of his deare sonne, the vnaccustomed [Page] frowne of his dread soueraigne, if a man felt no discontent in these, I would say he were a stock & not a Stoicke, but vnder­stāding it as I know you would be vnder­stood, that they be Mal-content as ill af­fected to their Prince, I dare say you lye in plaine English, but there is one will come home shortly I trow, that will tell you, if you be so full of the French, as I take you to be Tuments par la gorge. But good M. Libeller and your fellowes, I know your meanings, you would faine make mal-contents, and it grieues you you cānot, the water is to cleare for your fishing, you catch nothing but goodgins, Statute of fi­shing, anno. 1. Elis. that the meashe must be two inches and a halfe. the great fishes be too warie, & now you are faine to lesson your meashes contra­rie to Statute, being willing to play any game rather then sit out. Or I thinke you haue read the pollicie of Richard the third, who to giue his wife a preparatiue to her death, gaue out first she was dead, hoping that this corsiue (cordial I would haue said) might breake her hart, as it did indeed. So you worthy members of your country (God amend you, for I was say­ing, [Page] the plague take you all) when you would make Mal-contents then your pollicie giues out first that they be so. Oh take heed of such a one; he is a dangerous mā. A Puritā, why so? He will not sweare nor ride on a Sunday, then he wishes to well to the Scottish Church, note him in your tables. An other is a Papist. How know you? He said he hoped his grandfa­thers soule was saued. Tush but he goes to Church. Mary they be the most peril­lous men of all. And why so I pray you? if they will vēter their soules to please their Prince; what do you suspect them of. Oh if they be Catholicke, they are Spanish in their harts, for he is their Catholicke king. By my say that is somwhat you say, but I pray you, you that are not Spanish but all for the Frēch, what Religiō is the French king of? Oh no more of that, you will answere that when Callis is French againe. Fare you well Sir.

Thomas Markham Gētleman, come into the Court, and plucke vp thy old spi­rits. Is not this he should haue bene con­trouler, and now he is affrayd rather to [Page] be controlled. What euill hath he done? His second sonne grew so great he could not finde roome enough in England. A­las poore boy, God punisheth oft the sinne of the father on the children, but neuer but once that I haue reade of, the sonnes offence on the father. Is there no body hath a sonne so farre of? I trow there is. And yet he a true and worthy Gentle­man. Thomas Markham Gentleman her Maiesties seruant extraordinary, come to the Court. Why was he once ordinarie? Yea that he was. Ask old Hatfield mē, & aske them quickly to, for they be almost all gone. Why man he was standerd bea­rer to the worthie bād of Gentlemē Pē ­tioners. What did he leaue such a place gratis? yea gratis the aduerbe. Why wold he leaue it? Because it asked such perpe­tuall attendance? Oh now you haue an­sweared me, he shall be none of my Iurie for that. Had he so litle wit? Well sir saith my Atturney, I pray you dally no more but take him, for you may haue a worse else. I say vnto you he is a right English man, a faithfull, plaine, true, stout Gētle­man, [Page] & a man of honestie & vertue. Out asse. What doest thou tell me of these stale fashions of the sword and buckler time? I tell thee they are out of request now, (honest, & vertuous) I durst as leaue you had told me a tale of an old Iakes. Of A IAX? Marie that I cā do to. I assure you he loues an easie cleanly Iaxe maruel­lous wel, & he is a very good fellow at the Iax, for if one be his deare friend, he will let him tarrie with him, while he is at his businesse. I thinke he saith his prayers there, for I wil be sworne, I heard him say oft times, I thāke God I haue had a good stoole, &c. May I beleeue this of your word? Yea be bold of it, I can proue both this & all the rest by very good witnesse. Why didst thou not say thus much at the first? I would haue had him, though I had gone to Barwick on foote for him. What a good freeholder, a builder, and a house keeper, and loues a sweet Iax too; though he cannot be Alpha of my Iurie, yet he shall be Omega. Come on M. Markham, I must craue lesse acquaintance of you as grim as you looke, did not a Lady say [Page] once, that I should fare the better for that good face of yours, and God thanke her for it so I did indeede yet now some will make me beleeue, I fare the worse for it. Be of good cheare mā. What makes you so sad I haue commēdations for you frō your old friend, Thomas of Ormōd hath A most ho­norable Earle, and true friend. sent you a hawke will make you liue one yeare the lōger. I cannot make him look verily on me for all this, he sees he can not liue lōg, he must thinke of his graue. Tush man though you cannot line long, you may linger (an please God.) as o­thers haue done, some 3, or 4 and twenty yeares yet. What say you? no life? M. Ri­chard Drake hath you commended, and wold haue you get the Queene an other gelding, for Gray Markhā will haue his old maisters fault & fortune both, he wil be old & then they will not care for him. Not a word yet? I will make him speake anone. You shal haue your sonne ioyned patent with you for Bescood; if he will come home and be a true Knight to the crowne. What say you to that? Mary Go­spell in your mouth; and if he can be pro­ued [Page] other, Irenounde him for my sonne. Oh haue you foūd your roung now? Wel Sir, I haue a sute to you, I pray you ap­peare on my Iury, & giue a good verdict of our booke called M. A IAX. You know the booke well enough, I read you a sleep in it once or twise as we went from Greenewitch to Westminster. Out vpō it, haue you put it in Print? did not I tell you then, Charles Chester & 2. or three such scoffing fellowes would laughe at you for it? Yes: & did not I tell you again, that I would laugh too, and so we might all be merie? Well grim sire, let me haue a friendly verdict, if it be but for teaching you to mend a fault at Bescood, that I felt there 24. winters ago; & if you do not say well of it, I will cause one or other that hath bin at M. A IAX with you, report it in Court to your disgrace, & your Ioane shalbe disgraced too for tying your Points, and sitting by you so home lie (yet I would I had giuen 100. pounds she ne­uer had had worse nor vntruer tale told of her) & so fare you well good M. Mark­ham, and God send you manie a good [Page] stoole. And thus with much a do the Iu­rie was Impanneld. Now begā I to haue a good hope, nay rather a firme assurāce of my acquitall; hauing got a Iurie of so good sufficiencie, so great integritie, so sound ability: but it is cōmonly sene that in matters depending in cōtrouersie, the greatest danger is bred by to much secu­ritie: For the accusation was so hard fol­lowed, that some of the Iury began to be doubtfull of their verdict, the witnesses were so manie, their allegations so shrowd, & the euidēce so pregnant. And not onelie the faults of this present Pā ­phlet but my former offēces which were before the pardon (contrarie to the due course of all Courts) were inforced a­gainst me. As first to proue I had wrōged not only Ladies of the Court, but all wo­mens sex; they had quoted a Stanse in Hary Osto beginning thus.

And after in the person of Rodomont.

And lastly in this Pamphlet to cōpare, or rather to confound bawdie houses & I will not tell you which foure, for a 100 pounds. Iakes houses, Courtisans & Carters, with Angels & Hermits, there were 3. or 4. of the Iury (that said) the time had bin, they would haue thought it no good man­ners. But Alpha & Omega that haue euer thought chastitie a vertue, acquited me at last, saying, to scorne vice, shewed a loue of vertue. And for the rest I pleaded not onely a generall but a special pardō. Yet least the standers by should thinke I had bin guilty, or that I had bin burnt in [Page] the hand for the like fact before. I answe­red, that in the verse I did but follow my author. The whole work being enioyned me as a penance by that saint, nay rather goddesse, whose seruice I am only deuo­ted vnto. And as for the verses before al­ledged, they were so flat against my con­science, that I inserted somewhat, more then once, to qualifie the rigour of those hard speeches. For exāple against railing Rodomont, I said thus.

And in another place, to free me frō all suspition of pretended malice, & to shew a manifest euidence of intended loue, where my autor very sparingly had prai­sed some wiues, I added of mine owne ( ) so much as more I thinke was Mine owne sub auditur verse or wife which you will. neuer said for them, which I will here set downe ad perpetuam rei memoriam, and that all posteritie may know how good a husband I would be thought.

Further for the faults escaped in this fore alledged Pāphlet, I protested I was ready to make a retractatiō for their bet­ter satisfaction; as namely, First, for that homely cōparison that I made betweene my Lady Cloacinas house, and my Lady Floras Nimphes, I take it not to hold in general, but with this exception. Except it be a verie fowle & deformed harlot; or a very cleane and reformed AIAX.

Secondly for the rules of taming a shrew, that I commended for the wiser; I here protest against that rule: for if it haue not bene followed within the first yere or a day, it is too late to proue a new rule afterwardes. And therefore I hold it as a rule or maxime, proued by natu­ral Philosophy, confirmed by ancient hi­storie, Aristotle ru­led by his wife. Semiramis asked leaue to rule but a weeke, but you know what follow­ed. and therfore may here be conclu­ded in our poore Poetrie in this sort.

At this, the whole Iurie were mery & agreed all to quite me. And as for those that articuled against me, some of them are so tickled with this answere as I am sure they wil neuer accuse me for an ene­my to Ladies anie more.

The next Article was for abusing the name of a great souldier, both in that be­ing a Graecian, I make him speake in La­trina lingua: & that hauing bin so renow­ned for his vallew in wars, I wold say his picture was set in so homely a place, that it might also thereby seeme to haue bin called after his name in English. Now this matter was followed verie hotlie by halfe a dosen gallāt souldiers, that neuer saw naked sword out of Fleetstreet, and these came in swearing that I had tou­ched them in honor, & they would ther­fore fight with me about it. The Iury see­med to make but light of the matter, but yet to satisfie the Gentlemē specially 2. [Page] of them, that had bene likened to Brutus and Cassius and called vltimi Ruffinorū. They wisht me to answere them which I did in this sort. I said I was loth to fight for the iestification of my wit: & further I could name them 2. honest Gentlemen that had offred M. A IAX as great abuse as this, & he had put it vp at their hands, they asked who they were? I told them they were 2. of his countrymen one they called him M. Plato, the other M. Plu­tark, Plato 10. de Repub. Plutark. 9. booke Sump. seono. c. 5. of whom the one in his 10. booke de Repub. saith, that the soule of A IAX went into a Lyon, & the other saith, it had bin as good for it to haue gone into an asse, & both agree that it went into hell. And if reading of this will satisfie you, I will turne you to the place, and lend you the booke in Latin or in French, for that I thinke is your better language; & I pro­test to you, it is an excellēt chapter wher­in the same Plutarke very diuinely shew­eth how predestination, and free will, and chāce may all stand together. The pox of Plutarke & you to (saith on of these figh­ting fellowes,) reade him who list for I [Page] will neuer reade him, but why should he or you either abuse a souldiers name? Oh sir said I, good words I pray you, though I dare say you wish me no worse then you haue your selfe: for I know you are a Gētleman of 3. decēts, but if that be be­yond your reading, let me come within compasse of your study, I know you haue read old Scogins Iests. Did not he when the French king said that he had set our kings picture in the place where his close stoole stands. Sir saith he, you do the bet­ter, for euery time you looke on him, you are so frayd that you haue need of a close stoole. Now I hope I offer A IAX no greater scorne then that was, yet thankes be to God their successours remaine good friends. This did somewhat better answer them, but not fully. Nay Maisters (quoth I) if you stand on the puntillios with me: whomsoeuer this answere will not serue, let him send me the bredth of his buckler (I should say the length of his rapier) and draw himselfe as lineally from Captaine Medons grandfather as I haue deriued A IAX from Stercutius; [Page] and I will presently make a recantation Recantare, is to sing the same song a­gaine. of all I haue said. At last to take vp the quarrell Sir M. A. and M. R. S. set downe their order, that he should not be called any more Captaine A IAX, nor Mon­sieur A IAX, but Don A IAX, and then to this second article they all agreed not guiltie.

These swearing fellows being thus dis­charged, there comes a couple of for­mall fellowes in blacke cloaks faced with veluet, and hats sutable to the same; and vnder their hats litle night caps, that co­uered their Epimetheus, but not their Prometheus; hauing special care to keep their braine warne (yet one of them was said to be a hote brained fellow,) the o­ther had no great fault that I know, saue that he would say too long a grace afore dinner, in so much that one of his owne coat told him one day, that if he had thought to haue hard a collatiō, he wold haue sung a Psalme before it. These whi­sperd two or three of the Iury in the eare, and after hauing made a ducking curte­sie or two, bad the Lord to guide their [Page] worships; and so went backe to their chambers (at the signe of the Bible: lea­uing a mad fellow their Atturney to vrge the accusation they had brought, which was in shewverie sharpe and hay­nous, to this effect. That they supposed All that de­fend the Queenes proceedings are counted no better then Papists with these hot fellows, and they call my Lord of Cant. our Pope. me to be in hart a Papist. Straight I searcht euerie corner of my hart, and fin­ding no such thought in it, I asked why any man should say so? I know (said I) some of you would see my hart out by your wils: but for that you shall pardon me. But this you know ex abundantia cor­dis, os loquitur, out of the abundance of hart the mouth speaketh. And here I pro­test to you all, I neuer defended any opi­nion of Religion, either by way of argu­ment or writing, that in any point gain­saith the Cōmuniō booke. Let my accu­sers say so if they can. Yes Sir saith their zealous Atturney. I heard one testifie vi­ua voce in a Pulpit, that you had defen­ded a Popish opinion, of a second com­ming of Elias. He lyes like an asse (said I) and so tell him. And if I mistake him not much; I trow his good liuing grows [Page] not so fast with his new benefice, as his good name withers with his ill behaui­our. But if he vse no better behauiour, then to tell me my faults at Bath, when I am at London; I may fortune play the bad horseman, and spurre him at Lon­dō for stumbling so ill fauoredly at Bath. Or if I would ride like a hotspurre, he might hap like a dull Iade (asse he is) be wrong on the withers, as one of his coat was for such a matter in the same place. It may be he thinkes he hath aduantage of me because he can prate in a Pulpit cum licentia, but he shall see by this litle, that I haue libertie if I list, to replie in Print cum priuilegio. And my replica­tion may fortune be as forcible as his answer.

More I would haue said (for I was in choller) but some of the Iurie wished me for satisfying of the companie, to tell what Religion I was of. It was a straunge For some of them I hope are but Pro­testantes of anno primo Eliz. question to be asked me a fore such a Iu­rie (considering I came not thether to be Catachysed) and therefore I determined to make them as straunge an answere, [Page] such as should please them all, or dis­please them all ere I had done. First I said, neither Papist, Protestant, nor Puri­tan. Then all said they would condemne me as a newter or nulli fidian, except I gaue a better answer.

Then I said, I am a protesting Catho­licke Puritan. Tush say they, how can that be? Forsooth euen thus, to beleeue well, do well, and say well, to haue good faith, good workes, & good words, is not that a good Religion? Yes indeede, so done, were very well said. But said they, directly we exspect your answere, what you count to be true Religiō. Why thē directly thus I answere; out of S. Iustus Epistle the two last verses, you shall see who be of a wrong Religion, and who be of the right. Iustus? Oh, saith one by and by, I thinke he meanes Iames, and straight he puls a litle booke out of his sleeue; that looked like Ianus picture; with two faces standing East and West (but it was a testamēt boūd to the back­side of Dauids Psalmes) and turning to the place, he read as followeth. If a man [Page] thinke him selfe Religious, not refray­ning To haue a bad toung is bad Religiō. his toung, but seducing his hart, this mans Religion is vaine. Pure Reli­gion and vndefiled before God, euen the father, is this, to visite orphanes and wi­dowes in their afflictions, and to keepe your self vndefiled from the world. Why then, saith one, if you professe so pure a Religion, it seemes you are a Puritan. E­uen so. More time would haue bin spent in this matter, but that sir H. P. told them these things belonged to the high Com­missioners, and therefore wisht them to proceede to the next. Now for the last article, because it was concerning onely the Pamphlet it selfe, the whole Iurie referred the censuring thereof to Syr H. P. to say if any thing therein were a­gainst the law, because he was well seene in the law.

He told them that indeede he had read it more then once: and that for ought he could obserue in it, it did not in any point offend either common or Statute law. But (said he) there is a law (as I take it,) more commō then Ciuill, [Page] that saith things must be as they be ta­ken. Yet for my part in my verdict I Iudge Mark­ham would haue bene of that opi­nion in the time of Ed. the iiij. and Iudge Port­man your grandfather in Ed▪ the vj. would not say any mans eares are hornes. What the rest said I could not tell, for I was sent away, yet I ouer-heard one of them say, he would talke with a Coun­seller to informe him better of the law. But I finding that to grow so doubtfull, that I thought would haue bin so cleare, begā now to thinke it my safest course to sue for a pardon. And with that I awa­ked, Sapiētis est ni­hil praestare praeter culpam. vowing I would neuer write any more such idle toys, if this were well ta­ken: praying the readers to regard it but as the first lyne of Isops Fables.

Gallus gallinaceus dū vertit stercorariam inuenit gemmam.