THE Rufflar because he is first in degre of this odious order. And is so called in a statute made for the punishment of Vacabonds. In the xxvii yeare of Kyng Hen­ry the eight late of most famous memory. Hee shalbe, firste placed as the worthiest of this vnruly rablemēt. And he is so called when he goeth first abroade eyther he hath serued in the warres, or els he hath bene a seruing man and weary of well doing, shakinge of all payne, doth chuse him this ydle lyfe, and wretchely wanderes about the most shyres of this realme. And with stout Adascite, demaundeth where he thinketh hee maye bee bold, and circomspecte ynough as he sethe cause to aske charitie, rufully and lamentably, that it would make a flyntey hart to relent. and pitye his miserable estate, howe he hath bene maymed and brou­sed in the warres, & parauenture some wyll shew you some outward wounde, whiche he gotte at some dronken fraye, eyther haltynge of some preuye wounde festred with a fylthy firy flankard. For be well assured that the hardist souldiers be eyther slayne or maymed, eyther and they escape all hassardes, and retourne home agayne, if they bee without reliefe of their friends, they wyll surely desperatly robbe, and steale, and eyther shortlye be hanged or miserablye dye in pryson, for they be so much ashamed and disdayne to beg or aske charity, that ra­ther they wyll as desperatly fight for to lyue & mayntayn them selues as manfully, and valyantly, they ventered them selues in y ^e Prynces quarell. Nowe these Rufflars the oute castes of seruinge men when begginge or crauinge fayles, then they pycke and pylfer from other inferiour beggers, that they meete by the way as Roages, Pallards, Mortes, and Dores. Yea if they meete with a woman alone ridinge to the market, eyther olde man or boye, that he well knowethe wyll not resiste, such they filche and spoyle. These rufflares after a yere or two at the farthest become vpryght men, vnles they be preuented by twinde hempe. ¶ I had of late yeres an old man to my tennant, who costomably a great tyme went twise in the weeke to London, eyther with fruite or with pescods, when tyme serued therefore. And as hee was comming homeward on blacke heath, at the end thereof next to shotars hyll he ouer tooke two rufflars the one manerly wayting on the other as one had ben the mayster, & the other the man, or seruāt [Page 12] caryinge his masteres cloke, this olde man was verye glad that bee might haue their company ouer the hyl, because that day he had made a good market, for hee had seuen shyllinges in his purse, and a nolde angell, which this poore man had thought had not bene in his purse, for hee wylled his wyfe ouer nyght to take out the same angell, and laye it vp vntyll his comminge home agayne. And he verely thought that his wyfe had so don, whiche in deede for gott to do it. Thus after salutations, had this maister rufflar entered into cōmunication with this simple old man, who rydinge softlye beside them, commoned of many matters. Thus fedinge this old man with pleasaunt talke, vn­tyll they were one the toppe of the hyll, where these rufflares mighte well beholde the coaste aboute them cleare. Quiclye stepes vnto this poore man, and taketh holde of his horse brydell, and leadeth him in to the wode, and demaundeth of him what and how much monye he had in his purse. Now by my troth quoth this old man you are a me­rye gentle man, I knowe you meane not to take awaye anye thinge from me, but rather to geue me some if I shoulde aske it of you. By and by this seruāt thyefe casteth the cloke that he caryed on his arme about this poore manes face, that he should not marke or vew them, with sharpe words to delyuer quicly that he had and to confesse truly what was in his purse. This poore man then all abashed yelded, and confessed he had but iust seuen shylinges in his purse and the trouth is he knew of no more. This old angell was falen out of a lytle purse into the botome of a great purse. Now this seuen shyllings in white money they quickly found, thinkinge in dede that there had bene no more, yet farther groping and searchinge, found this old angell. And with greate admiration this gentleman thiefe begane to blesse hym saying, good lorde what a whorlde is this, howe maye (quoth hee) a man beleue or truste in the same, se you not (quoth he) this old knaue tolde me that he had but seuen shyllings, and here is more, by an an­gell, what an old knaue and a false knaue? haue we here quoth this rufflar, oure lorde haue mercy on vs, wyll this worlde neuer be bet­ter, and there with wente their waye. And lefte the olde man in the wood doinge him no more harme. But sorowfully sighinge this olde man returning home declared his misaduenture, with all the words and circomstaunces aboue shewed. Whereat for the tyme was great laughing, and this poore man for his losses among his louing neigh­boures well considered in the ende.

A Vpright man the second in secte of this vnsemly sorte must be next placed, of these rainging rablement of rasscales some bee seruing men, artificers, and laboryng men, traded vp in hus­bandry. These not minding to get their lyuing with y ^e swet of their face, but casting of all payne wyll wander after their wycked maner, through the most shyres of this realme, as Sommerset shyre, Wyl­shyre, Barkeshyre, Oxfordeshyre, Harfordeshyre, Middilsex, Essex, Suffolke, Northfolke Suffex, Surrye, and Kente, as the cheife and best shyres of reliefe. Yea not with out punishment by stocks, whip­pings, and imprisonment, in most of these places, aboue sayde. Yet not withstanding they haue so good lyking in their lewnd, lecherous loytering, that full quicly all their punishmentes is forgotten. And repentance is neuer thought vpon, vntyll they clyme thre tres with a ladder. These vnrewly rascales in their roilyng, disperce thē selues, into seuerall companyes, as occation seruethe, sometyme more and somtime lesse. As yf they repayre to a poore husbandmans house, he wyll go alone or one with him, and stoutly demaund his charity, ei­ther shewing how he hath serued in the warres, and their maymed, eyther that he seketh seruice, & sayth he would be glad to take payn, for his lyuing, although he meaneth nothinge lesse. Yf he be offered any meate or drynke, he vtterly refuseth scornefully, and wyl naught but money, and yf he espye yong pyggs or pultry, he well noteth the place and the the next nyght or shortly after hee wyll be sure to haue some of them; which they brynge to their stawlinge kens, which is their typpling houses, as well knowen to them according to the olde prouerbe (as the begger knowes his dishe.) For you must vnderstand euery Typpling ale house wyll neyther receiue them or their wares but some certayne houses in euery shyre, especially for that purpose, where they shalbe better welcome to them, then honister men. For by such haue they most gayne, and shalbe conuayde eyther into some loft out of the waye, or other secret corner not commen to any other, and thether repayre, at accustomed tymes, their harlots which they terme Mortes, and Doxes, not with emty hands, for they be as skil­full in picking, riffling & filching, as the vpryght men, and nothinge inferior, to them in all kynd of wyckednes, as in other places hereaf­ter they shalbe touched. At these foresayde pelting penish places and vnmannerly, metings O how the pottes walke about, their talkīg tounges talke at large. They howle and bowse one to another, and for the tyme housing belly there. And after there ruysting recreation [Page 14] yf there be not rome ynough in the house they haue cleane strawe in some barne or backehouse nere adioyning where they couch comly together, and it were dogge, and byche, and he that is hardyste maye haue his choyse, vnlesse for a lytle good maner some wyll take there owne that they haue made promyse vnto, vntyll they be out of sight, and then according to the old adage (out of minde.) Yet these vpright men stand so much vpō their reputation, as they wyll in no case haue their wemen walke with them, but seperat them selues for a tyme, a moneth or more. And mete at fayres, or great markers where they mete to pylfer and steale, from staules, shoppes, or bothes. At these fayres the vpryght men, vse commonly to lye, & lingar in hye wayes by lanes. some prety way or distaunce from y ^e place, by which wayes they be assured that compeny passeth styll, two and fro. And ther the wyll demaund with cap in hand and comly curtesy, the deuotion and charity of y ^e people. They haue ben much lately whipped at fayrs. Yf they aske at a stout yemans, or farmars house his charity, they wyll goe strong as thre or foure in a company. Where for feare more then good wyll, they often haue reliefe, they syldome or neuer passe by a Iustices house, but haue by wayes, vnlesse he dwell alone and but weakelye manned thether wyll they also go stronge after a slye suttle forte, as with theire armes bounde vp with ketcher or lyste, hauinge wrapte about the same filthy clothes, either their legges in such ma­ner bewrapped halting down right, Not vnprouided of good codgels which they cary to sustayne them, and as they fayne to keepe dogges from them, when they come to such good gentlemens houses Yf any searche be made or they suspected for pyltring clothes, of hedgges, or breaking of houses, which they commonly do, when the owners bee eyther at the market, church, or other wayes occupyed aboute their busines, eyther robbe some sely man or woman by the hye waye, as many tymes they do. Then they hygh them into wodes, great thic­kets, and other ruffe corneres, where they lye lurkinge thre or foure dayes to gether, and haue meate and drinke brought them by theyre Mortes, and Dores, and whyle they thus lye hydden in couert in the night they be not ydle, nether as y ^e common saying is (wel occupyed) for then as the wyly foxe crepinge out of his den seketh his praye for pultery so do these for lynnen and any thinge els worth money, that lyeth about or nere a house. As somtyme a whole bucke of clothes ca­ryed awaye at a tyme. When they haue a greatter bootye then they maye cary awaye quickly to their stawling kendes as is aboue sayd. [Page 15] They wyll hyde the same for a thre dayes in some thicke couert, and in the night time carye the same lyke good water Spanlles to their foresayd houses, to whom they wyll discouer. Where or in what pla­ces they had the same, where the markes shalbe picked out cleane, & conuayde craftelye face of to sell. If the man or woman of the house want money thē selues. If these vpright men haue nether money nor wares, at these houses they shalbe trusted for their vitales, and it a­mount, to twentye or thirty shyllinges. Yea if it fortune any of these vpright men to be taken either suspected or charged with felonye, or petye brybrye, don at such a time or such a place, he wyll saye he was in his hostes house. And if the man or wyfe of that house be examined by an officer, they boldelye vouche that they lodged him suche a time whereby the truth cannot appeare. And if the chaunce to be retayned into seruice through their lamentable words, with any welthy man. They wyll tary but a smale tyme, either robbing his maister, or som of his fellowes. And some of them vseth this polocye, that although they trauayle into al these shyres, aboue said, yet wyl they haue good credite espiciallye in one shyre where at diuers good farmars houses they be well knowen where they worke a month in a place or more & will for that time behaue them selues very honestlye and paynfully. And maye at any tyme for their good vsage haue worke of them and to these at a ded lyft or laste refuge they maye safely repayre vnto and be welcome. When in other places for a knacke of knauery that they haue playd thei dare not tary. These vpright men wil sildom or neuer want, for what is gotten by anye Mort, or Doxe, if it please him hee doth comaunde the same. And if he mete anye begger whether hee be sturdye or impotent he wyll demaunde of him whether euer he was stalled to the roge or no. If he saye he was, he wyll knowe of whom and his name y ^t stalled hym. And if he be not learnedly able to shewe him the whole circumstaunce therof he wyl spoyle him of his money, eyther of his best garment if it be worth any money, and haue him to the bowsing ken. Which is to some typpling house next adioyninge and laieth their to gage the best thing that he hath for twenty pence or two shyllinges, this man obeyeth for feare of beating. Then doth this vpriight man call for a gage of bowse whiche is a quarte pot of drinke and powres the same vpon his pelde paie adding these words. I. G. P. do stalle thée W. T. to the Roge, and that from hence forth it shall be lawefull for the to cante, that is to aske or begge, for thy li­uing in al places. Here you se y ^t the vpright man is of great auctoriti [Page 16] For all sorts of beggers, are obedient to his hests, and sermounteth all others in pyltring, and stealinge. I latly had standing in my wel house which standeth on the backeside of my house, a greate cawdren of copper being then full of water, hauinge in the same halfe a doson of pewter dyshes, well marked, and stamped with the connizance of my armes, which being well noted when they were taken out were set a side the water powred out, and my caudren taken away, beinge of suche bygnes that one man vnlesse he were of greate strength was not able farre to carye the same. Not withstanding the same was one night within this two yeares conuayed more then halfe a myle from my house, into a common or heth. And ther bestowed in a great fir­bushe. I then immediatly the next day sent one of my men to Londō, and there gaue warning in Sothwarke, kent streete, and Barmesey stréete to all the Tynckars there dwelling. That if any such caudorn came, thether to be sold, the bringar therof should be stayed, and pro­mised twenty shyllinges for a reward. I gaue also intelligence to the water men that kept the ferres that no such vessell shoulde be eyther conuayd to London, or into essex promising the lyke reward, to haue vnderstanding therof. This my doing was well vnderstand in many places, about, and that the feare of espyinge so troubled y ^e conscience of the stealer, that my caudorendaye vntouched in the thicke firbushe more then halfe a yeare after which by a great chaunce was found by hunteres for conneys, for one chaunced to runne into the same bushe where my caudren was and being perceaued one thrust his staffe into the same bushe and hyt my caudren a great blowe the sound whereof dyd cause the man to thinke and hope that there was some great treasure hidden, wherby he thought to be the better whyle he lyued. And in farther searching he found my caudren, so had I the same agayne vnloked for.

THese hokers or Angglears be peryllous and most wicked knaues, and be deryued or procede forth from the vpright men they com­menly go in frese ierkynes and gally slopes poynted bene the thekne, these when they practise there pylfringe it is all by night for as they walke a day times from house to house to demaund charite thei vigelantly marke where or in what place they may attayne to there praye, casting there eyes vp to euery wyndow wel noting what they se their, whether apparell, or linnen, hanginge nere vnto the sayde windowes and that wyl they be sure to haue y ^e next night folowing, [Page 13] for they customably carry with them a staffe of .v. or .vi. foote long, in which within one ynch of y ^e tope there of is a litle hole bored through in which hole they putte an yron hoke and with the same they wyll plucke vnto them quicly any thing y ^t they may reche ther with, which hoke in the day tyme they couertly cary aboute them, & is neuer sene or taken oute till they come to the place where they worke ther fete, such haue I sene at my house and haue oft talked with them and haue handled ther staues not then vnderstanding to what vse or intēt they serued, although I hadde and perceiued by there talke and behauiour great lykelyhode of euyll suspition in them, they wyll ether leane vp­pon there staffe to hyde the hole thereof when they talke with you, or holde their hande apon the hole and what stuffe either wollen or lyn­nen they thus hoke out they neuer carye the same foorthwith to their staulyng kens, but hides the same a .iii. daies in some secret corner, & after conueyes the same to their houses abouesaid, where their host or hostys geueth them money for the same, but halfe the value that it is worth, or els their doxes shall a farre of sell the same at the like hou­ses. I was credebly informed that a hoker came to a farmers house in the ded of the night and putting backe a drawe window of a low chā ber, the bed standing hard by the sayde wyndowe, in which laye .iii. parsones a man and two bygge boyes, this hoker with his staffe pluc­ked of their garmēts which lay vpon them to kepe them warme with the couerlet and shete and lefte them lying a slepe naked sauing there shertes, and had away all cleane, and neuer could vnderstande where it became. I verely suppose that when they wer wel waked with cold they surely thought that Robin goodfelow (accordinge to the old say­ing) had bene with them that night.

A Roge is neither so stoute or hardy as the vprightman. Many of them will go fayntly, and looke piteously, when they see, either meete any person, hauing a kercher as white as my shooes tyed aboute their heade, with a short staffe in their hand, halting, although they neede not, requirīg almes of such as they meete, or to what house they shal cōe. But you may easely perceiue by their colour, y ^t they cary both health and hipocrisie about them, whereby they gette gaine, when others want that cannot fayne and dissemble. Others there be that walke sturdely about y ^e coūtry, & faineth to seke a brother or kins­mā of his, dwellīg w ^tin som part of y ^e shire, either y ^t he hath a letter to [Page] to delyuer to som honest housholder, dwelling out of an other Shyre, and wyll shewe you the same fayre sealed, wyth the superscription to the partye he speaketh of, because you shall not thinke him to runne ydelly about the countrey, ether haue they this shyfte, they wyl ca­ry a cirtificate or pasport about them from som Iusticer of the peace, with his hand and seale vnto the same, howe hee hath byne whipped and punished for a vacabonde according to the lawes of this realme, and that he muste returne to. T. where he was borne or last dwelt, by a certayne daye lymited in the same, whiche shalbe a good longe daye. And all this fayned, bycause without feare they woulde wyc­kedly wander, and wyll renue the same, where or when it pleaseth them: for they haue of their affinity that can well wryte and reade. These also wyll picke and steale as the vpright men, and hath their women and metinges at places appoynted, and nothing to them in­feriour in all kynde of knauery. There be of these Roges Curtales wearing shorte clokes, that wyll chaunge their apparell, as occasion serueth. And their end is eyther hanging, which they call trinninge in their language, or die meserably of the pockes. ¶ There was not longe sithens two Roges that alwaies did associate them selues to­gether and would neuer seperate themselues vnles it were for some especial causes, for they were sworne brothers, and were both of one age and much like of fauour, these two traueling into east kent resorted vnto an alehouse there beinge weried with traueling, salutinge with short curtsey when they came into the house such as they sawe sitting there, in which company was the parson of the parish and cal­linge for a pot of the best ale, sat downe at the tables ende, the likor liked them so wel that they had pot vpon pot, and sometime for a litel good maner would drinke & offer the cup to such as they best fancied, & to be short they sat out al the company, for eche man departed home about their busines. When they had wel refreshed themselues, then these rowsy roges requested the good man of the house with his wife to sit downe and drinke with them of whō they inquired what priest the same was & where he dwelt, then they feyninge that they had an vncle a priest, and that he should dwel in these partes, which by al presumptions it should be he, & that they came of purpose to speake with him, but because they had not sene him sithens they were sixe yeres old, they durst not be bold to take acquaintāce of him vntil thei were farder instructed of the turth, & began to enquire of his name, & how long he had dwelt there, & howe farre his house was of from y ^t place [Page 15] they were in, the good wife of the howse thinkinge them honest men without disceit because they so farre enquired of their kinseman was but of a good zelous naturall intent, shewed them cherefully that he was an honest man & welbeloued in the parish and of good wealth, & had ben there resident .xv yeres at the least, but saith she are you both brothers, yea surely said they, we haue bene both in one belly & were twinnes, mercy god ꝙ this folish woman it may wel be for ye be not much vnlike and wente vnto her hall windowe callinge these yong men vnto her and loking out thereat pointed with her fingar & shewed them the howse standing alone no howse nere the same by almost a quarter of a mile, that saith she is your vncles howse, nay saith one of them he is not onely my vncle but also my godfather, it may well be ꝙ she, nature wil binde him to be the better vnto you, wel ꝙ they we be weary and meane not to trouble our vncle to night, but to morowe god willinge we will see him and do our duty, but I praye you doth our vncle occupy husbandry what company hath he in his howse alas saith she but one old woman & a boy, he hath no occupying at al, tushe ꝙ this good wife you be mad men go to him this night for he hath better lodging for you thē I haue, & yet I speake folishly against my own profit, for by your tarying here I should gayn y ^e more by you now by my troth ꝙ one of them we thanke you good hostes for your holsōe coūcel, & we meane to do as you wil vs, we wil pause a while and by that time it wilbe almost night, and I praye you geue vs a re­kening, so manerly paying for that they toke bad their hoste & hostes farewel with taking leaue of the cup, marched merely out of y ^e dores towards this parsons house vewed the same wel round about & pas­sed by two bowshots of into a yong wodde where thei lay consulting what they should do vntil midnight, ꝙ one of thē of sharper wit & subtiller then the other to his fellowe thou seest that this house is stone walled about, and that we cannot wel breake in in any parte therof, thou seest also that the windowes be thicke of mullions that there is no krepinge in betwene, wherefore we must of necessity vse some policy when strength will not serue, I haue a horse lock here about me saith he & this I hope shal serue our turne, so when it was about .xii. of the clock they came to the house and lurked nere vnto his chamber window, the dog of the house barked a good, that with the noise this priest waketh out of his slepe & begā to cough & hem, then one of these roges steps forth nerer the window & maketh a ruful & pitiful noyse, requiring for Christ sakes some reliefe that was both hongry & thirsty [Page] and was like to lye without the dores all nighte and starue for colde vnles he were releued by him with some small pece of money, wher dwellest thou quoth this parson, alas sir saith this roge I haue smal dwelling & haue come out of my way, and I should nowe saith he go to any towne nowe at this time of nighte, they woulde set me in the stockes and punishe me, well quoth this pitifull parson, away from my house either lye in some of my our houses vntill the morning and holde here is a couple of pence for thee, a god rewarde you quoth this roge and in heauen may you finde it. The person openeth his wyn­dowe and thrusteth out his arme to geue his almes to this Roge that came whining to receiue it, and quickly taketh holde of his hand and calleth his fellowe to him which was redye at hande with the horse locke and clappeth the same about the wrest of his arme that the mullions standing so close together for strength, that for his life he could not plucke in his arme againe, and made him beleue vnles he would at the least geue them .iii. li. they would some of his arme frō the body. So that this poore parson in ferre to lose his hande called vp hys olde woman that lay in the loft ouer him, and willed her to take out all the money he had, which was .iiii. markes which he saide was all the money in his house for he had lent vi. li. to one of his neighbours not iiji. daies before wel or they, master person if you haue no more, vpon this condicion we wil take of the locke that you will drinke .xii. d. for our sakes to morowe at the alehouse where we founde you and thank the good wife for the good chere she made vs, he promised faithfully that he woulde so do, so they toke of the locke & went theyr way so farre ere it was daye, that the parson coulde neuer heue any vnder­standing more of them, nowe this parson sorowfully slombering that night betwene feare and hope, though it was but folly to make two sorrowes of one, he vsed contentacion for his remedy, not forgettyng in the morning to performe his promise but wēt betims to his neighbour that kept tiplinge and asked angerly where the same two men were that dranke with her yester daye, which two men ꝙ this good wife? the straungers that came in when I was at your house wyth my neighbors yesterday, what your neuewes ꝙ she, my neuewes ꝙ this parson I trowe thou art mad, nay by god ꝙ this good wife as sober as you, for they tolde me faithfully that you were their vncle, but in faith are you not so in dede, for by my trouth they are strangers to me, I neuer saw them before. O out vpon them ꝙ the parson they be false theues & this nigut they compelled me to geue them all the mo­ney [Page 15] in my house. Benedicite ꝙ this good wife & haue they so in dede as I shall aunswere before god one of them tolde me besides that you were godfather to him and that he trusted to haue your blessinge be­fore he departed, what did he quoth this parsō, a halter blesse him for me, me thinketh by the masse by your countenance you loked so wildly whē you came in quoth this good wife that some thing was amis, I vse not to geste quoth this parson when I speake so earnestly, why all your sorrowes goe with it quoth this good wife, and sitte downe here and I wil fil a freshe potte of ale shall make you mery againe, ye saith this parson fill in and geue me some meate for they made me sweare and promise them faithfully that I shoulde drynke .xii.d. with you thys daye, what dyd they quoth she now by the mary masse they be mery knaues, I warraunte you they meane to bye no lande wyth your money, but howe coulde they come into you in the night youre dores beinge shutte fast, your house is verye stronge, then this parson shewed her all the hole circumstaunce howe he gaue them his almes oute at the wyndows, the made suche lamentable crye that it pytyed hym at the harte, for he sawe but one when he putte out his hand at the windowe, be ruled by me quoth this good wyfe, wherein quoth this parson, by my trouthe neuer speake more of it, when they shall vnderstande of it in the paryshe they will but laugh you to skorne.

A Wilde Roge is he that is borne a Roge, he is more subtil and more geuen by nature to all kinde of knauery, then the other, as beastely begotten in barne or bushes, and from his infancy traded vp in trechery, yea and before ripenes of yeares doth permit, wallowinge in lewde lechery, but that is counted amongest them no sin. For this is their custome that when they mete in barne at night euery one getteth a make to lye wythall, & there chaunce to be twentye in a companye, as there is sometyme more, and sometyme lesse: for to one man that goeth abrode, there are at the leaste two women, which neuer make it straunge when they be called, although she ne­uer knewe him before. Then when the day doth appeare, he rouses him vp and shakes his eares, and awaye wanderynge, where he may gette oughte to the hurte of others. Yet before he skyppeth oute of hys couche and departeth from his darling, if he like her well he will [Page] appoint her where to mete shortly after, with a warninge to worke warely for some chetes, that their meting might be the merier. Not long sithens a wild roge chaunced to meete a pore neighbour of mine who for honesty and good nature surmounted many. This pore man tiding homeward frō London, where he had made his market, this roge demaunded a peny for gods sake to kepe him a true man. This simple man beholding him wel, & sawe he was of taule personage w ^t a good quarter staffe in his hād, it much pitied him as he said to se him want, for he was wel able to serue his prince in y ^e wars. Thus being moued with pity, & lokt in his purs to finde out a peny & in loking for y ^e same, he plucked out .viii.s. in white mony, & raked therin to finde a single peny & at y ^e last finding one doth offer y ^e same to this wild roge, but he seing so much mony in this simple mans hand, being striken to y ^e hart with a couetous desier, bid him forthwith deliuer al y ^t he had, or els he would with his staffe beate out his braynes. For it was not a peny wold nowe quēch his thirst thus swalowing his spitle gredely down, spoiled this pore mā of al y ^e mony y ^t he had, & lept ouer y ^e hedge into a thick wood, and went his way as merely, as this good simple man came home sorowfully. I once rebuking a wild roge because he wente idly about: he shewed me that he was a begger by enheritāce, his Graundfather was a begger, his father was one, & he must nedes be one by good reason.

A Prigger of Prauncers be horse stealers, for to prigge signifieth in their language to steale, & a Prauncer is a horse, so beinge put together the matter is plaine. These go commonly in Ier­kins of leather or of white frese, & carry little wandes in their hands, and will walke through grounds and pasturs, to search and se horses mete for their purpose. And if thei chaunce to be met and asked by the owners of the grounde what they make there, they fayne straighte that they haue loste theyr waye, and desyre to be enstructed the beste way to suche a place. These will also repayre to gentlemens houses and aske theyr charitye, and will offer theyr seruice, And if you aske them what they can doe, they wil saye that they can kepe two or thre Geldinges, and waite vppon a Gentleman. These haue also theyr women, that walkinge from them in other places, marke where and what they see abrode, and sheweth these Priggars therof, when they meete, whych is wythin a weeke or two. And loke where they steale [Page 14] any thynge, they conuey the same at the leaste three score miles of or more. There was a Gentleman a verye friende of myne, rydynge from London homewarde into Kente, hauinge within three myles of his house busynesse, alyghted of his horse, and hys man also, in a pre­tye village, where diuers houses were, and looked about hym where he myghte haue a conuenyent person to walke his horse, because he would speak w ^t a Farmer, that dwelte on the backe side of the sayde village, little aboue a quarter of a myle from the place where he lighted, and had his man to waight vpon hym, as it was mete for his callynge: espieng a Priggar there standing, thinkinge the same to dwel there, charging this prity prigginge person to walke his horse well, and that they might not stande still for takynge of colde, and at his returne (which he saide should not be longe) he would geue him a peny to drinke, and so wente aboute his busines. Thys peltinge Priggar proude of his praye, walketh hys horses vp and downe, till he sawe the Gentleman out of sighte, and leapes him into the saddell, and a­waye he goeth a mayne. This Gentleman returning, and findyng not his horses, sente his man to the one ende of the village, & he went himself vnto the other ende, and enquired as he went for hys horses that were walked and began somewhat to suspecte, because neither he nor his man coulde neyther see nor fynde him. Then this Gentle­man diligently enquired of three or foure towne dwellers there whether any such person, declaring his stature, age, apparel, with so ma­nye linamentes of his body as he coulde call to remembraunce. And vna voce all sayde that no such man dwelte in their streate, neither in the parish that they knewe of, but some did wel remember that suche a one they sawe there lyrkinge and huggeringe two houres before the Gentleman came thether and a straunger to them. I had thought quoth this Gentleman he had here dwelled, and marched home ma­nerly in his botes, farre from the place he dwelt not I suppose at his comming home he sente such wayes as he suspected or thought mete to search for this Prigger, but hetherto he neuer harde any tidinges againe of his palfreys. I had the best gelding stolen out of my pa­sture that I had amōgst others while this boke was first a printing.

THese Palliards be called also Clapperdogens, these go with pat­ched clokes, & haue their Morts with them, which they cal wiues and if he goe to one house to aske his almes, his wife shal goe to [Page] another, for what they get, as bread, cheefe, malte, and well, they sel the same for redy money, for so they get more, and if they went toge­ther, although they be this deuided in the daie, yet they mete iompe at night. Yf they chaunce to come to some gentylmans house standinge alone, and be demaunded whether they be man and wyfe, & if he per­ceaue that any doubteth therof he sheweth them a Testimonial with the ministers name and others of the same parishe, naminge a parishe in some shere, fare distant from the place where he sheweth the same. This writing he carieth to salue that sore. There be many Irishe men that goe about with coūterfeate licenses, and if they perceiue you wyl straytly examen them, they will immediatlie saie they can speake no Englishe.

Farther, vnderstand for trouth that the worst and wickedst of all this beastly generation are scarce comparable to these prating Pally­ardes, All for y ^e most part of these wil either lay to their legs an herbe called Sperewort, eyther Arsnicke, which is called Ratesbane. The nature of this Spereworte wyll rayse a great blister in a night vpon the soundest part of his bodye, & if the same be taken away it wyl drie vp againe and no harme. But this Arsnicke will so poyson the same legge or sore, that it will euer after be incurable this do they for gayn and to be pitied. The most of these that walke about be walchmen.

SOme of these Fraters will cary blacke boxes at their gyrdel, wherin they haue a brief of the Queenes maiesties letters patentes ge­uen to such a poore spitlehouse for the reliefe of y ^e poore ther. which briefe is a coppie of the letters patentes, & vtterly fained, if it be in pa­per or parchement without the great seale. Also if the same brief be in print, it is also of auctoritie. For the Printers wil see, & wel vnderstād before it come in presse, that the same is lawfull. Also I am credibly in formed, that the chiefe Proctors of many of these houses, that seldome trauel abrode thēselues, but haue their factors to gather for thē, which looke very slenderly to the impotent & miserable creatures committed to their charge; & die for wāt of cherishing, wheras they & their wiues are well crāmed & clothed, & will haue of the best. And the founders of euery such house, or the chiefe of the parishe wher they be, would bet­ter see vnto these Proctors, that they might do their duty, they should be wel spoken of here, and in the world to come aboūdantly therefore rewarded. I had of late an honest man, and of good wealth, repayred to my house to common wyth me about certeyne affaires. I inui­ted [Page 19] the same to dinner, and dinner being done, I demanded of him some newes of those parties were boe didest. Thankes be to God syr (sayth be) al is wel & good now. Now (quoth I) this same now declareth y ^t some things of late hath not bene wel. Yes syr (qd. he) matter is not great, I had thought I should haue bene well beatē within this seuēth night. How so (quoth I) Mary sir sayd he, I am Constable for fault of a better, and was commaūded by the Iusti­cer to watch. The watch being set, I toke an honest mā one of my neighbors with me, and went vp to the end of the town as far as the spittle house, at which house I heard a great noyse, & drawing nere stode close vnder the wall, and this was at one of the clocke after mydnight. Where he hard swearing, prating, and wagers laying, and the pot a pase walkīg, and .xl. d. gaged vpon a matche of wrastling, pitching of the barre, and casting of the sledge. And not they go in a fustiā fume into the backe syde, wher was a great Axiltrye, and thei fell to pitching of the barre, being iii to iii. The Moone dyd shine bright, the Constable with his neighbour might see and beholde all that was done. And howe the wife of the house was rosting of a Pyg, while her gestes wer in their matche. At the last they could not agree vpon a cast, and fel at wordes, and frome wordes to blowes. The Constable with his fellow runnes vnto them to parte them, and in the parting lyrkes a drye blow or two. Then the noyse increased, the Constable would haue had them to to the stocks. The wife of y ^e house rūnes out w ^t her good mā to in­treat the Constable for her gestes, and leaues the Pyg at the fyre alone. In commeth tow or three of the next neighbours, being waked with this noyse, and into the house they come, and fynde none therin, but the Pygge wel rosted, and carieth the same away with them spyt and all, with such bread and drinke also as stoode vpon the table. When the good man and the good wyfe of the house had intreated and pacified the Constable, showing vnto him that they were Proctors and Factors all of Spyttlehouses, and that they taryed there but to breake theyr fast, and would ryde away immediately after, for they had farre to goe, and therfore ment to ride so earlye. And comming into theyr house againe, fynding the Pygge wyth bread and drincke all gonne, made a great exclamation, for they knewe not who had the same.

The Constable returning and hearing the lamentable wordes of the good wyfe, how she had lost both meate, and drinke, and saw it was so in deede, he laughed in his sleue, and commaunded her to dresse no more at vnlawful houres for any gestes. For he thought [Page] better bestowed vppon those smell feastes his poore neighboures, then vppon suche sturdye Lubbars. The nexte mornynge betimes the spitte and pottes were sette at the Spittle howse doore for the owner? Thus were these Factours begyled of theyr breakefaste, and one of them had wel beaten an other, and by my trouth (quoth this Cunstable) I was gladde when I was wel ryd of them. Why quoth I, could they caste the barre and sledge well? I wyll tel you syr (quoth he) you knowe there hathe bene many games this Sommer, I thinke verely that if some of these Lubbars had bene there, and practysed amongest others, I beleue they woulde haue carried awaye the beste games. For they were so stronge and sturdye, that I was not able to stande in their handes. Well (quoth I) at these games you speake of, both legges and armes be tryed. Yea (quoth thys offycer they be wicked men. I haue sene some of them sithens wyth cloutes bounde aboute theyr legges, and haltyng wyth their staffe in theyr handes. Wherefore some of theym (by GOD bee nought all.

THese Abraham men bee those that fayne them selues to haue bene mad, and haue bene kept eyther in Bedleant, or in some other prison a good tyme, and not one amongest twenty that euer came in pryson for any suche cause: yet wyll they saye howe pitiously & most extreamely they haue ben beaten & dealte withal. Some of these be mery & verye pleasante, they wyl daunce & syng, some others be as colde and reasonable to talke wyth all. These begge money, eyther when they come at Farmours howses they wyll demaunde Baken, eyther cheese, or wooll, or any thinge that is worth money. And if they espy smal company within they will with fierce countenaunce demaunde somewhat. Where for feare the maydes wyll geue theym largely to be ridde of theym.

If they maye conuenyently come by any cheate, they wyll pycke and steale, as the vprighte man or Roge, poultrey or lynnen. And al wemen that wander, be at theyr commaundements. Of all that euer I sawe of thys kinde, one naming him selfe Stradling, is the craftiest and moste dissemblingest Knaue. He is able wyth hys tounge and vsage to deceaue and abuse the wisest manne that is. And surelye for the proporcion of his bodie, with euerie member there vnto appertaininge, it cannot be amended. But as the pro­uerbe [Page 20] is (God hath done his part.) Thys Stradlyng saith hee was the Lord Sturtons man, and when he was executed, for very pensiuenes of mynde he fell out of hys witte, and so continued a yeare after and more, and that with the very greefe and feare he was taken wyth a marueilous palsey, that both head and handes will shake, when he talketh wyth any, and that apase or fast, wherby he is much pitied, and getteth greately. And if I had not demanded of others both men and women, that commonly walketh as he doth, and knowen by them his deepe dissimylation, I neuer hadde vnderstand the same. And thus I ende wyth these kynde of vaca­bondes.

THese Fresh water Mariners their shipes were drowned in the playne of Salisbury. These kynde of Caterpillers counterfet great losses on the sea, those bee some Western men, and most be Irysh men. These wyll runne about the country wyth a coun­terfet lycence, fayning either shipwracke, or spoyled by Pyrates neare the coast of Cornwall or Deuenshire and set a land at some hauen towne there, hauyng a large & formal writyng, as is aboue sayd wyth the names & seales of such men of worshippe at y ^e least iiii. or fiue as dwelleth neare or next to the place where thee fayne their landing. And nere to those shieres wyll they not begge, vn­tyll they come into Wilshire, Hamshire, Barkshire, Oxfordshire, Harfordshire, Middelsexe, and so to London, and downe by the ry­uer to seeke for their shippe and goodes that they neuer had, then passe they throughe Surrey, Sossex, by the sea costes, and sort īto Kent, demaunding almes to bring them home to theyr country.

Some tyme they counterfet the seale of the Admiraltie. I haue di­uers tymes taken awaye from them their licences of both sortes, with such money as they haue gathered, and haue confiscated the same to the pouerty nigh adioyning to me. And they wyll not bee­long without another. For at any good town they wil renew the same. Once with much threatning and faire promises I required to knowe of one company who made their licence. And they sweare y ^t they bought the same at Portsmouth of a Mariner there and it cost him two shilinges, with such warrants to be so good & effectual, that if any of the best men of law or learned about Lon­don should peruse the same, they weare able to fynd no faute ther­with but would assuredly allow the same.

THese that do coūterfet the Crāke be yong knaues and yong harlots, that depely dissemble the falling sicknes. For the Cranke in their langage is the fallyng euyll, I haue seene ome of these with fayre writinges testimoniall, with the names and seales of some men of worship in Shropshiere, and in other Shieres farre of, that I haue well knowen, and haue taken the same from them. Many of these do go without writinges, and wyl go halfe naked, and looke most pitiously. And if any clothes be geuen them, they immediately sell the same, for weare it they will not, because they would bee the more pitied, and weare filthy clothes on their heades, & neuer go without a peece of white sope about them, which if they see cause or present gaine, they wyl pri­uely cōuey the same into their mouth, and so worke the same ther, that they wyll fome as it were a Boore, & marueilously for a time torment them selues, and thus deceiue they the common people, & gaine much. These haue commonly their harlots as the other.

Apon Alhollenday in the morning last. Anno domini. 1566. or my my booke was halfe printed I meane the first impressiō ther came early in the morninge a Counterfet Cranke vnder my lodgyng at the white Fryares within the cloyster in a little yarde or coorte where abowtes laye two or three great Ladies beeng without the liberties of London wherby he hoped for the greater gayne, thys Cranke there lamentably lamenting and pytefully crying to be releued declared to dyuers there hys paynfull and myserable dysease I b [...]ynge rysen and not halfe ready harde his dolefull wordes and rufull mornings hering him name the falling sycknes thought as­suredly to my selfe that he was a deepe desembelar, so commynge owt at a sodayn and beholding his ugly & yrksome attyre hys loth some & horryble coūtenance it made me in a meruelous parplexite what to thinke of him whether it were fayned or trouth, for after this manner went he, he was naked from y ^e wast vpwarde sauyng he had a olde gyrken of lether patched and that was loose about hym that all his body lay [...]ote bare a fylthy fowle cloth he ware on hys hed being cut for the purpose hauing a narrow place to put owt his face wyth a bauer made to trusse vp his beard and a string that tyed the same downe close abowte his neke wyth an olde felt hat whych he styll caried in hys hand to receaue the cheryte & de­uotion of the people for that woulde he holde owte from hym ha­uyng [Page 17] his face from y ^e eyes downeward all smerde with fresh bloud as though he had new falen and byn tormented wyth hys paynful panges hys gyrken being all be rayde with durt and myre and his hatte and hosen also as thoughe hee had wallowed in the myer, sewrely the sighte was monstreous and terreble, I called him vnto me & demaūded of hym what he ayled. A good maister quoth he I haue the greuous and painful dyseas called the fallyng sycknes why quoth I how commeth thy gyrken hose & hat so be rayd wyth durt and myre & thy skyn also. A good master I fel down on the backesyde here in the fowle lane hard by the watersyde and there I lay all most all night and haue bled all most all the bloud owte in my body, it raynd that morning very fast and while I was thus talking with him a honest poore womā that dwelt therby brought hym a fayre lynnen cloth and bed hym wype his face therwith and there beyng a tobbe standinge full of rayne water offered to gyue hym some in a dishe that he might make hym selfe clene he refused the same why dost thou so quoth I, a syr sayth he yf I shuld washe my selfe I should fall to bleeding a freshe again and then I should not stop my selfe, these wordes made me the more to suspect hym.

Then I asked of him wher he was borne what is name was how long he had thys dysease & what tyme he had ben here about Lon­dō & in what place, syr sayth he I was borne at Leycestar my name is Nicholas Gennins and I haue hadde this fallyng sycknes .viii. yeares and I can get no remedy for the same for I haue it by kinde my father had it and my frendes before me, and I haue byne these two yeares here about London, and a yeare and a halfe in bethelē, why wast thou out of thy wyttes quoth I? ye syr that I was.

what is the Kepars name of the howse, hys name is quoth hee Iohn Smith, then quoth I hee must vnderstande of thy dysease yf thou hadest the same for the tyme thou wast there, he knoweth it well, ye not onely he but all the house beesyde quoth thys Cranke for I came thens but within this fortnight, I hadde stande so long reasoning the matter wyth him that I was a could and went in to my chamber and made me ready, and commaunded my seruant to repayre to bethelem and bring me trew word from the keper there whether any such man hath bin with him as a prisoner hauing the dysease aforesaid and gyue hym a not of hys name and the kepars also, my seruant retornyng to my lodgyng dyd assure me that ne­ther was ther euer any such man there nether yet any keper of any suche name, but he that was there keper he sent me hys name in writinge affermynge that he letteth no man depart from hym vn­les [Page] he be set awaye by hys frendes and that none that came from hym beggeth abowte the City then I sent for the Printar of thys booke, and shewed hym of thys dyssembling Cranke and how I hadde sent to Bethelem to vnderstand the trough and what auns­were I receaued agayne requiring hym that I myght haue some seruant of his to watch him faithfully that day that I might vnderstand trustely to what place he would repaire at night vnto, & the­ther I promised to goe my selfe to see their order and that I would haue him to associate me thether, he gladly graunted to my request and sent two boyes that both diligētly and vigelantly accomplisht the charge geuen them and found the same Crank abowte y ^e Tē ­ple wher about the most parte of the daye he begged vnles it were about xii. of the clocke he went on the backsyde of Clementes. In without Temple barre there is a lane that goeth into the Feldes there he renewed his face againe wyth freshe blud whych he cary­ed aboute hym in a bladder and dawbed on freshe dyrt apon hys gerken hat and hosen.

And so came backe agayne vnto the Temple and sometyme to the Watersyde and begged of all that passed hye, the boyes beeheld howe some gaue grotes, some syxe pens, some gaue more for hee looked so ouglei [...] and yrksomlie that euerye one pytied hys myserable case that beehelde hym, to bee short there he passed all the daye tyll nyght approched, and when it began to bee somewhat darke he went to the watersyde and toke a Skoller and was fette ouer the Water into Sainct Gorges feldes, contrarye to my expectation, for I hadde thought he woulde haue gonne in to Holborne or to Saynt Gylles in the felde but these boyes wyth (Argues and Lynces) eyes set sewre watche vppon hym and the one toke a Bote and followed hym and the other went backe to tell hys maister.

The Boye that so followed hym by Water, hadde no Mon­ney to paye for hys Bote hyre, but layde hys Penner and hys Ynkhorne to gage for a penny, and by that tyme the boye was set ouer, hys Maister with al celeryte hadde taken a Bote and followed hym a pase, now hadde they styll a syght of the Cranke whych crossed ouer the feldes towardes Newyngton and thether he went and by that tyme they came thether it was very darke, the pryntar hadde there no acquayntance nether any kynde of weapon about hym nether knew he how farre the Cranke woulde go, becawse [Page 18] he then suspected that they dogged hym of purpose, he there stayed hym and called for the Constable which camforth diligently to in­quire what the matter was thys zelous Printar charged thys offi­cer wyth hym as a malefacter and a dessembelyng vagabonde, the Constable would haue layde him all nyght in the Cage that stode in the streat, naye sayth thys pytifull printer I pray you haue him into your house for this is lyke to bee a colde nyght and hee is na­ked you kepe a vytellynge house lette him be well cheryshed thys nyght for he is well hable to paye for the same, I know well hys gaynes hath byn great to daye, and your howse is a sufficient pry­son for the tyme & we wyl there serche hym, the Constable agreed there vnto, they hadde him in, and caused him to washe hym selfe that donne they demaunded what money he hadde aboute hym, sayth thys Cranke so God helpe me I haue but xii. pens. and pluc­ked owte the same of a lytle pursse, why haue you no more quoth they, no sayth thys Cranke as God shall saue my soule at the daye of iudgement, we must see more quoth they and beegane to strype hym, then he plucked out a nother pursse wherein was xl. d. Toushe sayth thys Prynter I must see more, Sayth this Cranke I pray God I bee dampned both body and soule yf I haue anye more, no sayth thys Prynter thou false knaue here is my boye that dyd watche thee all thys day and sawe when suche men gaue the peeses of syxe pens grotes and other money and yet thou hast shewed vs none but small money, when thys Cranke harde thys and the boye vowynge it to hys face he relented, and plucked out a nother pursse wherein was eyght shyllynges and odde mo­ney so hade they in the hole that he hadde begged that day xiii. s. iii d. ob. then they strypt hym starcke naked and as manye as sawe hym sayde they neuer sawe hansommer man wyth a yellow flexen hede and fayre sknned wythout any spotte or greffe then the good wyfe of the howse fet her mans olde clocke and cawsed the same to bee caste abowte hym beecawse the syght should not abashe her shamefast maydens nether lothe her squamyshe syght.

Thus he sette hym downe at the Chemnes ende and called for a potte of Beere and dranke of a quart at a drafte, and called for another and so the thyrde, that one hadde byn sufficient for any re­sonable man, the Drynke was so stronge I my selfe the next mor­nynge tasted thereof but lette the reader iudge what and howe muche he woulde haue dronke and hee hadde byne owte of feare [Page] then when they had thus wronge water out of a flint, in spoyling him of his euil gotten goods his passing pence and fleting trashe. The printer with this officer were in gealy gelowsy, and deuised to search a barne for some roges and vprighte men, a quarter of a mile from the house y ^t stode alone in the fieldes, & went out about their busines leauing this cranke alone with his wife & maydens, this crafty Cranke espyeng all gone, requested the good wife that he might goe out on the backside to make water and to exonerate his paunch, she had him drawe the lach of the dore and go out, neyther thinking or mistrusting he would haue gone away naked, but to conclude, when he was out he cast away the cloke and as naked as euer he was borne he ranne away that he woulde neuer be hard of again til now the next morning betimes I went vnto Newington to vnderstande what was done, because I had worde or it was day that there my printer was, and at my cōming thether I harde the hole circumstance as I aboue haue written, & I seing the mat­ter so fal out, toke order with the chiefe of the parish that this .xiii. s. and .iii. d. ob. might the nexte day be equally distributed by their good discreciōs to the pouerty of the same parish, & so it was done.

THese Dommerars are leud and most subtill people, the most part of these are Walch men, and wil neuer speake, vnlesse they haue extreame punishmente, but will gape, and with a maruelous force wil hold downe their toungs doubled, groninge for your charity, and holding vp their handes full pitiously, so that with their deepe dissimulation they get very much. There are of these many, and but one that I vnderstand of hath loste hys tounge in dede. Hauinge on a time occasion to ride to Dartford to speake with a priest there, who maketh al kinde of conserues very well, and vseth stillinge of waters. And repayringe to his house I founde a Dommerar at his dore, and the priest himselfe perusinge of his lycence, vnder the seales and handes of certayn worshipfull men, which priest had thought the same to be good and effectuall. I taking the same writing, and reading it ouer & noting the seals found one of the seals like vnto a seale that I had about me, which seale I bought besides Charing crosse, that I was out of doubte it was none of those Gentlemens seales that had subcribed. And ha­uing vnderstanding before of their peuish practises, made me to cō ceaue that al was forged and nought. I made the more hast home, [Page] For well I wyst that he woulde & must of force passe through the pa­rysh where I dwelt, for there was no other waye for hym. And com­ming homewarde, I found them in the towne accordinge to my ex­pectation, where they were staid: for there was a Pallyarde asociat with the Dommerar and partaker of his gaynes, whyche Pallyarde I sawe not at Dartforde. The stayers of them was a gentleman cal- Chayne, & asaruant of my Lord Kéepers, cald Wostestowe, which was the chiefe causer of the stayng of them, being a Surgien, & cunninge in his science, had séene the lyke practises, and as he sayde hadde cau­sed one to speake afore that was dumme. It was my chaunce to com at the begynnyng of the matter. Syr (quoth this Surgen) I am bold here to vtter some part of my cunning, I trust (quoth he) you shall sée a myracle wrought anon. For I once (quoth he) made a dumme man to speake. Quoth I you ar well met, and somwhat you haue preuen­ted me, for I had thought to haue done no lesse or they hadde passed this towne. For I well know their writing is fayned, and they depe dissemblers. The Surgien made hym gape, & we could sée but halfe a toung. I required the Surgien to put hys fynger in his mouth, & to pull out his toung, and so he did, notwithstanding he helde strongly a prety whyle, at the length he pluckt out the same, to the great ad­miration of many that stoode by. Yet when we sawe his tounge, he would neither speake, nor yet could heare Quoth I to the Surgien, knit two of his syngers together, and thrust a stycke betwene them, and rubbe the same vp and downe a lyttle while, and for my lyfe he speaketh by and by. Sir quoth this Surgien I pray you let me prac­tise an other way. I was well contented to sée the same. He had him into a house, and tyed a halter aboute the wrestes of his handes and hoysed him vp ouer a beame, and there did let him hang a good while. at y ^e length for very payn, he required for Gods sake to let him down. So he that was both deafe and dūme coulde in short time both heare and speake. Then I tooke that money I could finde in his purse, and distributed the same to the poore people dwelling there, whiche was xv. pence halfe penny, beinge all that we could finde. That done, & this merry myracle madly made, I sent them with my seruaunt to the next Iusticer, where they preached on the Pyllery for want of a Pul­pet, and were well whypped, and none dyd bewayle them.

THese dronken Tynckers called also Prygges, be beastly people, & [Page] these yong knaues be the wurst. These neuer go w ^tout their Dores, and yf their women haue anye thing about them, as apparell or lyn­nen that is worth the selling, they laye the same to gage, or sell it out right (for bene bowse at their bowsing ken.) And full sone wyll they bee wearye of them, and haue a newe. When they happen one wo­orke at anye good house, their Dores lynger a lofe, & tarrye for them in some corner, and yf he taryeth longe from her, then she knoweth he hathe worke, & walketh neare, and sytteth downe by him. For be­sydes money he looketh for meate and drinke for doing his dame plea­sure. For yf she haue three or foure holes in a pan, hee wyll make as many more for spedy gayn. And if he se any old ketel, chafer, or pew­terdish a broad in the yarde where he woorketh, hée quicklye snappeth the same vp, and into the booget it goethe rounde. Thus they lyue w ^t decrite. I was crediblye informed by such as could well tell, that one of these tipling Tinckers w ^t his dogge robbed by the highe waye .iiii. Pallyardes, and .ij. Roges .vj. persons together, and tooke from thē aboue .iiij. pound in ready money, & hide him after in a thicke woode a daye or two, and so escaped vntaken. Thus with picking and stea­ling, mingled w ^t a litle worke for a coullor, they passe their tyme.

THese Swadders & pedlers, be not all euyl, but of an indifferent behauiour. These stande in great awe of the vpryght men, for they haue often both wares & money of them. But for as much as they séeke gayne vnlawfully aganst the lawes and statutes of this noble realme, thei are well worthy to be registred among y ^t nomber of vacabonds, & vndoubtedly I haue hadde some of them brought be­fore me when I was in comission of the peace as malefactors for bry­bering & stealing. And nowe of late it is a great practes of y ^e vpright man, when he hath gotten a botye to bestowe the same vpon a packe full of wares, & so goethe a time for his plesure because he would lyue with out suspition.

FOras muche as these two names a Iarkeman and a Patrico be in the old briefe of vacabonds, and setforthe as two kyndes of euell doers, you shall vnderstande that a Iarkmane hathe his name of a Iarke, which is a seale in their Languag, as one should make wri­tings and set seales for lycences and pasportes.

And for trouth there is none that goeth about the countrey of them y ^t can eyther wryte so good and fayre a hand, either indite so learnedlye as I haue sene and handeled a number of them: but haue the same made in good townes where they come, as what can not be had for money, as the prouerbe saythe (Omnia venalia Rome) and manye hath confessed the same to me. Now also there is a Patrico and not a Pa­triarch, which in their language is a priest y ^t should make mariages tyll death dyd departe, but they haue none suche I am well assured, for I put you out of doubte that not one amongest a hundreth of them are maried, for they take lechery for no synne, but naturall fellow­shyp and good lyiknge loue, so that I wyll not blot my booke wyth these two that be not.

THese Demaunderes for glymmar be for the most parte wemen, for glymmar in their language is fyre: these go with faynen ly­cences and counterfayted wrytings, hauing the hands and seales of suche gentlemen as dwelleth nere to the place where they fayne them selues to haue bene burnt and their goods consumed with fyre. They wyll most lamentably demaunde your charity, & wyll quickly shed salte teares, they be so tender harted. They will neuer begge in that Shiere where their losses (as they saye) was. Some of these goe with slates at their backes, which is a shéete to lye in a nightes. The vpright men be very familiar wyth these kynde of women, and one of them helpes an other. ¶ A Demaunder for glymmar came vnto a good towne in Kent to aske the cheritie of the people, hauing a fay­ned lycens aboute her that declared her misfortune by fyre, donne in Somerset shyre, walking with a wallet on her shoulders wherin she put the deuotion of such as had no money to geue, here that is to say, Malte, woll, baken, bread, and cheese, and alwayes as y ^e same was full, so was it redy money to her when she emptyed the same, where so euer she traueled this harlot was as they terme it snowte fayre and had an Vpright man or two alwayes attending on her watch (which is on her parson) and yet so circomspecte that they woulde neuer bee sene in her company in any good towne vnlesse it were in smale vyl­lages where typling houses weare, eyther traueling to gether by the hygh ways, but y ^e troth is by report she would wekely be worth vi. or seuen shyllinges, with her begging and bycherye. This glimmerīg Morte repayring to an Ine in y ^e sayde towne, where dwelt a wydow [Page] of fyfty wynter olde of good welthe but she had an vnthryftye sonne, whom she vsed as a chamberlaine to attend gestes when they repard to her house, this amerous man beholding with ardant eyes, behol­dinge this glymmeringe glauncer was presently peteously persed to the harte, and lewdly longed to be clothed vnder her lyuerye and be­stowing a fewe fonde wordes, wyth her, vnderstode strayte, that she woulde be easlye perswaded to lykinge lechery, and as a man mased mused howe to attayne to his purpose, but he hadde no money. Yet consideringe with hym selfe that wares woulde bee welcome where money wanted, he went with a wannion to his mothers chamber & there sekinge about for od endes, at length found a lytle whystell of syluer that his mother dyd vse customably to weare on, and had for­gote the same for haste that morning, and offeres the same closely to this manerly marian that yf she would mete him on the backesyde of the towne and curteously kys him without constraynt she should bee mystres thereof and it weare much better, well saythe she you are a wanton, and beholding the wystell was farthar in loue therewyth, then rauysht wyth his person and agred to mete him presently and to accomplyshe his fonde fancy, to be short and not tedyous a quorter of a myle from the towne he merely toke measure of her vnder a bawdy bushe (so she gaue him that she had not) and he receiued that he could not) and taking leue of ech other with a curteous kysse, she plesantly passed forth one her iornaye & this vntoward lycorous chamberlayne repayred home warde. But or these two tortylles toke there leue the good wyfe had myssed her whystell, and sent one of her maydens in to her chamber for the same, and being long sawght for none coulde be found, her mystres hering that dylygent search was made for the fame, and that it was taken awaye, began to suspecte her vnblessed babe, and demaunded of her maydens whether none of thē sawe her sonne in her chamber that morning, and one of them answered that she sawe him not there but cōming from thence, then had she ynough for well she wyste that he had the same, and sent for him but he could not be found. Then she caused her hosteler in whome she had better affyaunce in for his trouth and yet not one amongst twenty of them but haue well left there honesty (As I here a great sorte saye) to com vnto here which attended to knowe her pleafure, go seke out saythe she my vntowarde sonne and byd him come speake with me, I sawe him go out sayth he halfe an our sithēs on y ^e backsid I had thought you had sent hym of your arrante, I sent hym not ꝙ she go loke him out. [Page 20] This hollowe hosteler toke his staffe in his necke and trodged out a­pace that waye he sawe him before go and had some vnderstandinge by one of the maydens that his mystres hadde her wystell stolen and suspected her sonne, and he had not gone far but that hee espyed hym comming homeward alone, and meting him axed where he had byn. Where haue I bene ꝙ he and began to smyle, now by the mas thou hast bene at some baudy banquet, thou hast euen tolde trouth ꝙ thys chamberlayne sewrely ꝙ this hostler thou haedest the same woman that begged at our house to daye for y ^e harmes she had by fyre, where is she ꝙ he she is almost a myle by this tyme ꝙ this chamberlayne, where is my mystres whystell quoth this hosteler for I am well assu­red that thou haddest it and I feare me thou hast geuen it to that har­lot. Why is it myssed quoth this chamberlayne, yea ꝙ this hosteler and shewed him all the hole circomstaunce what was both sayde and thought on hym for the thinge. Well I wyll tell the ꝙ this Cham­berlayne I wylbe playne with the I had it in dede and haue geuē the same to this woman, and I praye the make the best of it and helpe nowe to excuse the matter, and yet surelye and thou wouldst take so much payne for me as to ouer take her for she goeth but softly and is not yet fare of and take the same from her and I am euer thyne assu­red freende. Why then go with me quoth this hostler, nay in faythe quoth this Chamberlayne what is frear then gift, and I hadde prety pastime for the same, hadest thou so quoth this hosteler nowe by the masse and I wyll haue some to or I wyll lye in the duste or I come a­gayne. Passing with hast to ouertake this paramoure within a myle frō y ^e place where he departed he ouertoke her hauing an vpright mā in her company a stronge and a sturdye vacabond some what amased was this hosteler to se one familiarly in her company for he had well hopped to haue had some delycate dalyance as his fellowe hadde but seinge the matter so fall out and being of good corrage and thinking to him selfe that one true man was better then two false knaues and being on the hygh way thought vpon helpe yf nede had bene by such as had passed to and fro. Demaunded fersely the whistell that she had euyn nowe of his fellowe, why husband quoth she can you suffer this wretche to slaunder your wyfe, a vaunt verlet ꝙ this vpright man and letes dryue with all his force at this hosteler and after halfe a do­sen blowes he strycks his staffe out of his hand, and as this hosteler stepte backe to haue taken vp his staffe agayne, this glymmeringe Morte flinges a great stone at him and strake him on the heade that [Page] downe he fals wyth the bloud about his eares and whyle he laye this amased the vpright man snatches awaye hys purse, wherein he had money of his mystresses as well as of his owne, and there let him lie and went awaye with spede that they were neuer hard of more. When this drye beaten hosteler was com to him selfe he fayntly wandereth home, and crepethe into his couche and restes hys ydle head, hys mystrys harde that he was come in, and layde him downe on his bead, repayred straight vnto him and aske him what he ayled and what the cause was of his so sodden lying one his bed, what is the cause quoth this hosteler your whystell your whystell speaking the same pytiously iii. or iiii. tymes, why fole quoth his mystres take no care for that, for I do not greatly waye it, it was worth but iii. s. iiii. d. I would it had bene burnt for iiii. yeares agon, I praye the why so quoth hys mystres I thinke thou art mad, nay not yet qd. this hosteler but I haue byn madly hand­lyd, why what is the matter quoth his mystres and was more de­sirous to knowe the cause, and you wyll for geue my fellowe and me I wyll shewe you, or els I wyll neuer doe it, shee made hym presently faythfull promise that she would, then sayth he send for your sonne home agayne which is ashamed to loke you in the face I agre there to sayth she, well then qd. thys hosteler youre sonne hath geuen the same Mort that begged here for the burning of her house a whystell and you haue geuen her v. s. in money, & I haue geuen her x, s, of my owne, why how so quoth she, then he sadlye shewed her of hys myshap with al y ^e circomstaunce that you haue hard before, and howe hys purse was taken awaye & xv shyllings in the same, wherof v. s. was her money and x. s. his owne money is thys true quoth hys mystres, I by my trouth qd. this hosteler, and nothing greues me so much, neyther my beatyng neyther the losse of my money as doth my euel and wretched lucke, why what is the matter qd. his mystres, your sonne saythe thys hosteler had some chere and pastyme for that whystell for he laye with her, and I haue bene well beaten, and haue had my pursse taken from me and you knowe your sonne is merry and pleasant and can kepe no great councell and then shall I be mocked and laughed to skorne in all places when they shall here how I haue bene serued, Nowe out vpon you knaues both quoth his mystres, and laughes oute the matter, for she well sawe it would not otherwyse preuayle.

THese bawdy baskets be also wemen, and go with baskets & Capcases on their armes, wherin they haue laces, pynnes, nedles, white ynkell, and round sylke gyrdls of al coulours. These wyll bye conueyskins, & stele lynnen clothes of on hedges. And for their tryfles they wyl procure of maydē seruauntes, whē their mystres or dame is out of the way, eyther some good pece of beefe, baken, or cheese, that shalbe worth xii. d. for ii. d. of their to­yes. And as they walke by the way, they often gayne some money wyth their instrument, by suche as they sodaynely mete withall. The vpright men haue good acquayntaunce with these, and wyl helpe and relieue them when they wante. Thus they trade their lyues in leud lothsome lechery. Amongest them all is but one ho­nest woman, and she is of good yeares, her name is Ione Messen­ger, I haue had good proofe of her. as I haue learned by the true report of dyuers, Thre came to my gate the laste sommer. Anno Domni. 1566. a very miserable man and much deformed as burnt in the face blere eyde and lame of one of his legges that he wente with a crouche, I axed him where he was borne & where he dwelt last and shewed him that thether he must repaire and be releued & not to range about the countrey, and seing some cause of cheryte I caused him to haue meate and drinke and when he had dronke I demaunded of him whether he was neuer spoyled of the vpryght man or Roge, yes that I haue qd be and not this vii. yeres for so long I haue gon abroad, I had not so much taken from me and so euyll handelyd as I was within these iiii. dayes, why how so ꝙ I in good fayth sir ꝙ he I chaunced to mete with on of thefe bawdy baskets which had an vpright man in her company, & as I would haue passed quietly by her, man saythe she vnto her make, doe you not se this ylfauored windshaken knaue, yes qd. the vpright man what say you to him, thys knaue fayth she oweth me ii. s, for wa­res that he had of me halfe a yere a go I thynke it well sayth this vpright man syrra sayth he paye your detes, saith thys poore man I owe her none nether dyd I euer bargane w ^t her for any thinge and as thys aduysed I neuer sawe her before in all my lyfe, mercy god quoth she what a lying knaue is this, and he wyll not paye you housband beat hym surely, and the vpryght man gaue me iii. or iiii. blowes on my backe and shoulders and woulde haue beate me worsse and I had not geuen hym all the money in my purse & in good fayth for very feare I was fayne to geue hym xiiii. pence which was all y ^e money that I had, why sayth this bawdy basket [Page] haste thou no more, then thou owest me x. d. styll, and be well assu­red that I wylbe payde the next tyme I meete with the. And so they let me passe by them. I praye god saue & blesse me and all other in my case from such wycked persons quoth this poore man, why whether went they then quoth I in to east Kent for I méete w ^t them on thyssid of Rochester. I haue dyuers times bene attempted but I neuer loste much before, I thanke god there came styll company by afore this vnhappy time. Well quoth I thanke God of all, and repair home into thy natyue countrey.

THese Antem Mortes be maried wemen, as there be but a fewe. For Antem in their Language is a Churche, so she is a wyfe maried at y ^e Churche, and they be as chaste as a Cowe. I haue y ^e goeth to Bull euery moone, with what Bull she careth not. These walke most times from their housbands companye a moneth & more to gether, being asociate with another as honest as her selfe. These wyll pylfar clothes of hedges, some of them go with children of .x. or xii. yeares of age, yf tyme and place serue for their purpose they wyll send them into some house at the window to steale and robbe, which they call in their language, Milling of the ken, & wyll go w ^t wallets on their shoulders, and slates at their backs: there is one of these An­tem Mortes she is now a widow, of fyfty yeres old, her name is Alice Milson, she goeth about with a couple of great boyes, the yongest of them is fast vpon xx. yeres of age and these two do lye with her euery night, and she lyeth in the middes, she sayth that they be her childrē, that beteled be the babes borne of such abhonable bellye.

THese walkinge Mortes be not maryed, these for their vnhappye yeres doth goe as a Antem Morte, and wyll saye their husbandes died eyther at Newhauen Ireland, or in some seruice of the Prince. These make laces vpon staues & purses that they cary in their hands, and whyte vallance for beddes. Manye of these hathe had, and haue chyldren: when these get ought, either with begging bychery or bry­bery, as money or apparell, they are quickly shaken out of all by the vpright men, that they are in a maruelous feare to cary any thing a­boute them that is of some valure. Wherefore this pollicy they vse, [Page 28] they leaue their money now with on and then with another trustye householders either with the good man or good wyfe, some tyme in won shiere, and then in another as they trauell, this haue I known y ^e iiij. or v. shillings yea .x. shillinges lefte in a place and the same wyll they come for againe within won quarter of a yeare or some time not inhalfe a yeare, and all this is to lytle purpose, for all their peuyshe pollicye, for when they bye them lynnen or garments, it is taken a­waye from them and worsse geuen them, or none at all. ¶ The last Sommer Anno Domni. 1566. beinge in familiare talke with a walking Morte, that came to my gate I learned by her what I could and I thought I had gathered as much for my purpose as I desired. I began to rebuke her for her leud lyfe and beastly behauor, declaring to here what punishment was prepared and heaped vp for her in the world to com, for her fylthy lyuing and wretched conuersation. God helpe ꝙ she howe should I lyue, none wyll take me into seruis, but I laboure in haruest time honestly. I thinke but a whyle with honestie quoth I Shall I tell you ꝙ she, the beste of vs al maye be amended, but yet I thanke God, I ded on good dede within this twelue mōths wherein ꝙ I, sayth she I woulde not haue it spoken of agayne. Yf it be méete and necessary ꝙ I it shal lye vnder my fete, what meane you by that quoth she, I meane ꝙ I to hide the same & neuer to discouer it to any. Well quoth she and began to lawgh as much as she coulde, and sweare by the masse that if I disclosed the same to any she would neuer more tell me any thing. The last sommer ꝙ she I was greate with chylde and I traueled into east kent by the sea coste, for I lusted meruelously after oysters and mussels and gathered many, and in y ^e place where I found them, I opened them and eat them styll, at the last in seking more I reached after one and stept into a hole and felin into the wast and their did stycke, and I had bene drowned if the tide had come, and espyinge a man a good waye of, I cried as much as I could for helpe, I was alone he hard me and repaired as fast to me as he might and finding me their fast stycking, I required for gods sake his helpe, and whether it was with stryuing and forcing my selfe out or for Ioye I had of his comminge to me. I had a great couller in my face and loked red and well tollered. And to be playne with you hée lyked me so wel (as he sayd) that I should there lye styll, and I would not graunt him, that he myghtly with me. And by my trouth I wist not what to answeare I was in such a perplexite, for I knewe y ^e man well, he had a very honest woman to his wyfe and was of som welth [Page] and on the other syde if I weare not helpe oute I shoulde there haue peryshed, and I graunted hym that I would obeye to hys wyll, then he plucked me out. And because there was no conuenient place nere hande, I required hym that I might go washe my selfe and make me some what clenly, and I would come to his house and lodge al night in his barne, whether he myghte repaire to me and accomplyshe hys desire, but let it not be quoth shée before nine of the clocke at nighte for then there wylbe small s [...]yrring. And I may repayre to the town ꝙ she to warme and drye my selfe, for this was about two of the clo­cke in the after noune do so quoth hée for I must be busye to loke oute my cattell here by before I can come home. So I went awaye from hym and glad was I, and why so quoth I, because quoth she his wyfe my good dame is my very fréend, and I am much beholdinge to her. And she hath donne are so much good or this that I we are loth nowe to harme her any way [...], to by quoth I what and it hadde bene anye [...] ther man and not your good dames husbande. The matter had bene the lesse quoth shée. Tell me I praye the quoth I who was the father of thye chylde she stodyed a whyle, and sayde that it hadde a father but what was hée quoth I. Nowe by my trouthe I knowe not quoth shée, you brynge me ou [...] of my matter soo you do, well saye on quoth I then I departed strayght to y ^e towne and came to my dames house. And shewed here of my mysfortune, also of here husebandes vsage in all poyntes and that I showed here the same for good wyll and byde her take better hede to her housebande, and to her selfe, so she gaue me grate thankes and made me good cheere, and byd me in any case that I shouldde be redye at the barne at that tyme and oure we hadde apoynted, for I knowe well quoth thys good wyfe, my husband wyll not breake wyth the. And one thinge I warrant the that thou geue me a watche worde a loude when he goeth aboute to haue his plea­sure of the and that should be fie for shame fye, and I wyll be hard by you wythe helpe. But I charge the kéepe thys secrete vntyll all bée fynesed, and holde saythe thys good wyfe here is one of my peticotes I geue the. I thanke you good dame qu [...]h I, and I warraunte you I wyll bée [...]ue and trustye vnto you. So my dau [...]e lef [...]e me settynge by a good fyre wyth meate and drynke, and wyth the oysters I brou­ghte with me, I hadde greate the ere shée wente strayght and repay­red vnto her gossypes dwellyng there by, and as I dyd after vnder­stand she made her mone to theē. what a naughti lend lecherous hus­bād she had, and how y ^t she could not haue his companye for harlots, [Page 29] and that she was in feare to take some fylthy dysease of hym, he was so commen a man hauing lytle respecte whome he hadde to doe with all, and quoth she nowe here is one at my house a poore woman that goeth aboute the countrey that he woulde haue hadde to doo withall wherefore good neyghboures and louinge gossypes as you loue me and as you would haue helpe at my hand another tyme, deuyse some remedy to make my husband a good man, y ^t I may lyue in sum suerty wyth out disease, and that hée maye saue his soull that God so derelye bought. After shée hadde tolde her tale they caste their persinge eyes all vpon her, but won stoute dame amongst the rest had these words as your pacient bearinge of troubles, youre honest behauor amonge vs, your neyghbours your tender and pytiful hart to the poore of the parysh, doth moue vs to lament your case, so the vnsatiable carnalite of your faythelesse husbande doth instigate and styre vs to deuyse and inuent some spéedy redresse for your ease and the amendement of his lyfe. Wherefore thys is my councell and you wyll bée aduertysed by me, for I saye to you all, vnles it be thys good wyfe, who is chéefely touched in this matter I haue the nexte cause, for hée was in hande wyth me not longe a goe, and companye had not bene present which was by a meruelous chaunce, he hadde I thinke forced me. For often hée hathe bene temperinge with me, and yet haue I sharpely sayde hym naye, therefore let vs assemble secretly into the place where hée hathe apoynted to méete this gyllot that is at youre house and lyrke preuely in seme corner tyll hée begyn to goe aboute his busines. And then me thought I harde you saye euen now that you had a watche worde, at whyche worde wée wyll all step forthe being fyue of vs be­sydes you for you shalbe none because it is youre husbande, but gette you to bed at your accustomed our. And we wyll cary eche of vs a good byrchen rodd in our lappes, and we wyll all be muffeled for know­inge and se that you go home and acquaynt that walking Morte with the matter for we must haue her helpe to hold, for alwaies foure must hold & two lay one. Alas sayth this good wyfe, he is to stronge for you al, I would be loth for my sake you should receaue harme at his hand feare you not ꝙ these stout wemen let her not geue y ^t watche worde vntyll his hosen be aboute his leggs. And I trowe we all wylbe w ^t him to bryng before he shall haue leysure to plucke them vp agayne they al w ^c on voyce agred to y ^e matter y ^t the way she had deuised was y ^e best, so this good wife repaired home but before she departed frō her gossyps she shewed thē at what oure they should preuely come in on y ^e backsyd & where to tary their good our, so by y ^t time she cam in it was all moste night,

and found the walking Morte styll setting by the fyre, and declared to her all this new deuyse aboue sayd, which promised faythfully to fullfyll to her small powre as much as they had deuysed, with in a quar­ter of an owre after in commeth the good man, who said that he was about his cattell, why what haue we here wyfe setting by the fyre, & yf she haue eate and dronke send her into the barne to her lodging for this night, for she troubeleth the house, euen as you wyll housbande sayth his wyfe you knowe she commeth once in two yeres into these quarters. Awaye saythe this good wyfe to your lodginge, yes good dame sayth she as fast as I can, thus by loking won on the other eche knewe others mind and so departed, to her comely couche, the good man of the house shrodge hym for Ioye thinking to hym selfe I wyll make some pastyme with you anone. And calling to his wyfe for his sopper set him downe and was very plesant and dranke to his wyfe & fell to his mamerings and mouched a pace nothing vnderstanding of the banckquet that was a preparing for him after sopper, & according to the prouerbe. (Swere meate wyll haue sowre sawce) thus when he was well refreshed, his sprietes being reuyued entred into familiare talke with his wyfe, of manye matters hawe well he had spent that daye to both there proffytes, saying some of his cattell that were lyke to haue bene drowned in the deches dryuing others of his neyghbors cattell out that were in his pastures, & mending his fences that were broken downe. Thus profitably he had consumed the daye, nothing talking of his helping out of the walking Morte out of the myre, ne­ther of his request nor yet of her promisse. Thus feding her w ^c frendly santycyes consumed two oures and more. Then fayninge howe hee would se in what case his horse were in and howe they were dressed. Repaired couetly in to the barne, where as his freendely foes lyrked preuely vnles it were this mannerly Morte, that comly couched on a bottell of strawe, what are you come ꝙ she by the masse I would not for a hundreth pound that my dame should knowe that you were here eyther any els of your house. No I warrant the sayth this good man they be all safe and fast ynough at their worke, and I wylbe at mine anone. And laye downe by her, and strayght would haue had to do w ^t her, nay lye sayth she I lyke not this order if ye lye with me you shall surely vntrus you & put down your hosen for that way is most easiest and best, sayest thou so quoth he now by my trouth agred. And when he had vntrussed him selfe and put downe he began to assalt the vnsa­ [...]able fort, why quoth she that was with out shame sauinge for here [Page 29] promes. And are you not ashamed, neuer a whyt sayth he lye downe quickely, now fye for shame, fye saythe she a loude whyche was the watche word. At the which word, these fyne furious sturdy muffeled gossypes flynges oute, and takes sure holde of this betrayed parson, sone plucking his hosen downe lower, and bynding the same fast a­bout his féete, then bynding his handes, and knittinge a hande char­cher about hys eyes, that he should not sée, and when they had made hym sure and fast. Then they layd hym one vntyll they weare wind­les, be good sayth this Morte vnto my maister for the pascion of god and layd on as fast as the rest, and styll seased not to crye vpon them to bee mercyfull vnto hym, and yet layde on a pace, and when they had well beaten hym that the bloud braste plentifullye oute in moste places they let hym lye styll bounde. With this exortation, that he should from that tyme forth know his wyfe from other mens and that this punishment was but a flebyting in respecte of y ^e whych should followe, yf he amended not his manners. Thus leuyng hym blustering blowing and fominge for payne and malyncolye that hee nether myght or coulde be reuenged of them, they vanyshed awaye and hadde thys Morte wyth them, and safely conuayde her out of the town, sone after cōmeth into the barne one of the good mans boyes to set some haye for his horse. And fyndinge his maister lyinge faste bounde and greuouslye beaten with rades, was sodenly abashed and would haue runne out ag [...]yne to haue called for helpe, but his mai­ster bed hym come vnto hym and vnbynd hym. and make no wordes quoth he of this. I wylbe reuenged well ynoughe, yet not wythstan­dinge after better aduyse, the mattor beinge vnhonest; he thought it meter to let the same pas, and not as the prouerbe saythe (to awake the sleping dogge.) And by my trouth quoth this walkinge Morte, I come nowe from that place and was neuer there sythence this parte was playde, which is some what more then a yeare. And I here a ve­ry good reporte of hym, now that he loueth hys wyfe well and vseth hym selfe verye honestlye and was not this a good acte, nowe howe saye you. It was pretelye handeled quoth I and is here all yea quoth she here is the ende.

THese Doxes be broken and spoyled of their maydenhead, by the vp­right men, and then they haue their name of Doxes, and not afore And afterward she is commen and indifferent for any that wyll vse [Page] her as homo is a commen name to all men. Such as be fayre and some what handsome, kepe company with the walkinge Mortes, and are redye alwayes for the vpright men, and are chiefely mayntayned by them, for others shalbe spoyled for their sakes, the other in ferior sort wyll resorte to noble mens places, and gentlemens houses standing at the gate, eyther lurkinge on the backesyde about backehouses ey­ther in hedge rowes or some other thycket, expectinge their praye, whiche is for the vncomely company of some curteous ge [...]t of whom they be refreshed with meate and some monye, where eschaunge is made ware for ware: this bread and meate they vse to carry in their greate hosen, so that these beastlye bryberinge bréeches serue manye tymes for bawdye purposes. I chaunced not longe sithens familiarly to commen wyth a Doxe that came to my gate, and surelye a plea­sant harlot, and not so pleasant as wytty, and not so wytty as voyd of all grace and goodnes. I founde by here talke that shée hadde passed her tyme lewdlye eyghttene yeares in walkinge aboute. I thoughte this a necessary instrument to attayne some knoweledge by, and be­fore I woulde grope her mynde I made her bothe to eate and drynke well, that done I made her faythefull promise to geue her some mo­ney yf she would open and dyscouer to me such questions as I would demaunde of her, and neuer to bee wraye her nether to disclose her name. And you shoulde sayth she I were vndon: feare not that quoth I, but I praye the quoth I, say nothing but trouth. I wyll not saith shée, then fyrste tell me quoth I, how many vpright men and Roges dost thou knowe or hast thou knowne and byn conuersant with and what their names be: she paused a whyle and sayd: why do you aske me, or wherefore? For nothinge els as I sayde; but that I woulde knowe them when they came to my gate. Nowe by my trouth (quoth she (then are yea neuer the neare, for all myne acquayntance for the moste parte are deade. Dead quoth I, howe dyed they, for wante of cherishinge, or of paynefull diseases. Then she sighed; and sayde they were hanged. What all quoth I, and so manye walke abroade, as I dayely sée? By my trouth quoth she, I knowe not paste six or seuen by their names, and named the same to me. When were they hāged quoth I? Some seuen yeares agone, some thrée yeares, and some w ^t in this fortnight, and declared the place where they weare executed, whiche I knew well to bée true, by the reporte of others. Why (quoth I) dyd not this sorrowfull and feareful sight much gréeue thée, and for thy tyme longe and euyll spent. I was sory quoth shée, by the Masse, [Page 31] for some of them were good louing men. For I lackt not when they had it, and they wanted not when I had it, and diuers of them I ne­uer dyd for sake, vntyll the Gallowes departed vs. O mercyfull God (quoth I and began to blesse me. Why blesse ye quoth she? Alas good gentleman euery one muste haue a lyuinge. Other matters I talked of, but this nowe maye suffice to shewe the Reader as it weare in a glasse, the bolde beastly lyfe of these Dores. For suche as hathe gone anye tyme abroade, wyll neuer forsake their trade, to dye therefore, I haue hadde good profe thereof. There is one a notorious harlot of this affinitye called Besse Bottomelye, she hath but one hande, and she hath murthered two children at the least.

A Dell is a yonge wencheable for generation, and not yet kno­wen or broken by the vpright man. These go abroad yong, ei­ther by the death of their parentes, and no bodye to looke vnto them, or els by some sharpe mystres that they serue do runne awaye oute of seruice, eyther shée is naturallye borne one, and then shée is a wylde Dell, these are broken verye younge, when they haue béene lyen w ^tall by the vpright man, then they be Doxes, & no Dels. These wyld Dels being traded vp w ^t their monstrous motheres, must of ne­ [...]essyty be as euil or wursse then their parents, for neither we gather grapes frō grene bryars, neither fygs from Thistels. But such buds, such blosoms, such euyll sede sowen, well worsse beinge growen.

A Kynchyn Morte is a lytle Gyrle, the Mortes their mothers car­ries them at their backes in their states, whiche is their shetes, and bryngs them vp safely, tyll they grow to be rype, and soone rype, soone rotten.

A Kynchen Co is a young boye, traden vp to suche peuishe purpo­ses, as you haue hard of other young ympes before, that when he groweth two yeres, he is better to hang then to drawe forth.