¶ A Upryght man, Cap. 2.

[Page]A Upright man the second in secte of this vnsemely sort must be next placed of these rainging rablement of rascales, some be seruing men, artificers, and laboring men, traded vpp in hus­bādry: These not minding to get their liuing with the sweat of their face, but casting of all payne, wil wander after their wicked maner, through the most shyres of this realme.

As Sommerset shyre, Wyll shyre. Barke shyre, Oxforde shyre, Harforde shyre, Myddilsex, Esse [...], Suffolke, Northfolke, Suffex, Surrye, and Kent, as the chiefe and best shyres of reliefe. Yea not without punishment by stockes, whyppinges, and imprisonment, in most of these places aboue sayd: yet notwithstandinge they haue so good lyking in their lewde lecherous loyteringe, that full quick­lye all their punishmentes be forgotten. And repentaunce is neuer thought vpon, vntill they clyme thrée trées with a ladder. These vn­rewly rascales in their roylinge, disperse them selues into seuerall companies, as occasion serueth, sometime more and sometime lesse. As if they repayre to a poore husbandmans house, hée will go alone or one with him, and stoutely demaund his charitie, eyther shewing how he hath serued in the warres and their maymed, eyther that he seeketh seruice and sayth he would be gladde to take payne for hys lyuinge, althoughe he meaneth nothing lesse: If he be offered anye meate or drinke, he vtterly refuseth scornefullye, and will nought but money, and if he espye yong pygges or poultry, he well noteth the place, & then the next night or shortly after, he wil be sure to haue some of them, which they bringe to their stawlinge kens, whiche is their tippling houses, as well knowen to them according to the olde prouerbe (as the begger knows his dishe.) For you must vnderstand euery Typplyng ale house will neither receiue them or their wares but some certayne houses, in euery shyre, especially for that purpose, where they shalbe better welcome to them, then honester men For by such haue they most gayne, and shalbe conuayd eyther into some loft out of the way, or other secret corner not common to any other, and thither repayre at accustomed tymes their barlotes which they terme mortes and Dores, not with emty hands, for they be as skil­full in picking, riffling & filching, as the vpright men, and nothing inferior to them in all kinde of wickednes, as in other places heraf­ter they shalbe touched. At these foresaid pelting penish places and vnmanerly meetings, O how the pottes walk about, their talking tounges talke at large: They howle and howse one to anther, and for the tyme bowsing belly chere. And after their ruysting recreatiō [Page] if there be not rome ynough in the house, they haue cleane straw in some barne or backe house nere adioining, where they couch comly togither, as it were dogge and byche, and he that is hardyest mays haue his choyse, vnlesse for a litlte good maner, some wil take their owne that they haue made promyse vnto [...] vntill they be out of sight, and accordinge to the olde adage (out of minde) Yet these vpright men stand so much vpon their reputatiō, as thei wil in no case haue their wemen walke with them, but seperate themselues for a time, a moneth or more. And mete at fayres or great markets where they mete to pilfer and steale [...] from staules, shoppes, or boothes. At these fayres the vpright men, vse commonly to lye, & lingar in hye wayes by lanes, some prety way or distance frō the place, by which wayes they be assured that company passeth still to and fro, and there they will demaund with cap in hand and comly curtesye, the deuotion & charitie of y ^e people. They haue ben much lately whipped at fayrs. If thei aske at a stout yemans or farmers house his charity, thei wil goe strong as thre or foure in a company: where for feare more then good will they often haue reliefe, they seldome or neuer passe by a Iuststes house, but haue by wayes, vnlesse he dwell alone, and but weakely manned, thither will they also goe strong after a slye suttle sorte, as with their armes bounde vp with kercher or lyste, hauinge wrapt about the same filthy clothes, eyther their legges in such ma­ner be wrapped halting down right, not vnprouided of good codgils, which they cary to sustayne them, and as they fayne to kéepe dogges from them, when they come to such good gentlemens houses, if any searthe be made or they suspected for pilfering clothes of hedges, or breaking of houses which they commonly do, when the owners bée eyther at the market, church, or other wayes occupied about their busines, eyther robbe some sely man or woman by the hye way, as many times they do. Then they hygh them into wodes, great thic­kets, and other ruffe corners where they lye lurking three or foure dayes togyther, and haue meate and drinke brought them by theyr mortes and Dores: and whyle they thus lye bidden in conert, in the night they be not idle neither as y ^e common saying is (wel occupied) for then as the wyly fore, creping out of his den, seketh his praye for pultery, so do these for [...]nnen and any thing else worth money, that lyeth about or nere a house. As somtime a whole buck of clothes ca­ried away at time. When they haue a greatter booty, then they may cary away quickly to their stawlinge kennes as is aboue said, they will hyde the same for a thre dayes in some thicke, couert and [Page] in the night time cary the same lyke good water Spannels to their foresayd houses, to whom they will discouer where or in what pla­ces they had the same where the markes shalbe picked out cleane, & conuayd craftely far of to sell if the mā or woman of the house want money themselues: and if these vpright men haue nether mony nor wares, at these houses they shalbe trusted for their vitalles and it a­mount to twenty or thirty shillinges: yea if it fortune any of these vpright men to be taken, either suspected or charged with fellony or pety brybrye don at such a time or such a place, he will saye he was in his hostes house. And if the mā or wyfe of that house be examined by an officer, they boldely vouche that they lodged him such a time, whereby the truth cannot apeare. And if they chance to be retained into seruice, through their lamentable wordes, with any welthy mā they will tary but a small time, eyther robbing his maister, or some of his fellowes. And some of them vseth this policy, that althoughe they trauaill into all these shyres aboue said, yit will thei haue good credite, especially in one shyre, where at diuers good farmers houses they be well knowne, wher thei worke a moneth in place or more and will for that time behaue themselues very honestly & paynfully. And may at any time for their good vsage haue woorke of them, and to these at a dead lift or last refuge, thei may safely repayre vnto, & be welcom, when in other places for a knacke of knauery that they haue plaid thei dare not tary. These vpright mē wil sildom or neuer want, for what is gotten by any Morte or Dore, if it please him hée doth commaund the same: and if he mete any begger, whether he be sturdy or impotent, he will demaund of him whether euer hee was stalled to the roge or no. If he say he was, he will know of whom, & his name y ^• stalled him. And if he be not learnedly able to shew him the whole circumstance thereof, he will spoyle him of his money, ei­ther 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 layeth ther to gage the best thing that he hath for twenty pence or two shillings: this man obeyeth for feare of beating. Then dooth this vpright man call for a gage of bowse, which is a quarte potte of drinke and powres the same vpon his peld pate, adding these words I. G. P, do stalle thee W. T. to the Roge, and that from hencefoorth it shalbe lawfull for thee to Cant, that is to aske or begge for thi li­uing in al places. Here you sée y ^• the vpright man is of great auctority for all sortes of beggers are obedient to his hests, and surmounte [...] all tothers in pylfring and stealing. ¶ I lately had standinge in my [Page] wel house which standeth on the backeside of my house a great caw­dron of copper being then full of water, hauinge in the same halfe a dosen of pewter dishes well marked and stamped w ^t the con [...]zance of my armes: which beeinge well noted when they were taken out were set a side, the water powred out, and my caudron taken a way, being of such bignes that one man vnlesse he wer of great strength was not able far to cary the same. Notwithstandinge the same was one night within this two yeares, conuayed more then half a myle from my house, into a commen or heth, and ther bestowed in a gret firbushe. I then immediatly the next day sent one of my men to Lō ­don and there gaue warning in Southwark. Kent strete, & Barm [...] sey streat, to al the Tynckars there dwelling, that if any such Cau­dron came thither to be sold, the bringar therof should be stayed, and promised twenty shillings for a reward. I gaue also intelligence to the watermen that kept the [...]erres that no such vessell should be ey­ther conueyed 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 espying so troubled th [...] conscience of the stealer, that my Caudron lay vntouched in y ^• thick [...] firbushe more then halfe a yere: after which by a great chaunce was found by hunters for conne [...]s: for one chaunced to runne into y ^• same bushe where my caudron was, and being perceyued, one thrust hys staffe into the same bushe & hyt my caudron a great blow, the sound whereof dyd cause the man to thinke and hope that there was some great treasure hidden, wherby be thought to be the better whyle hée lyued. And in further searching he found my Caudron, so had I the same agayn vnloked for.

¶ A Hoker or Anglear. Cap. 3.

THese hokers or Anglers be perillous and most wicked knaues, and be deriued or procede forth from the vpright men, they com­monly goe in fréese yerkynes and gally [...]loppes, pointeth beneth the knée: these when they practise their pilfryng, it is al by night, for as they walk a day times from house to house to demaund charitie, thei vigilantly mark where, or in what place they may attayne to there pray, casting their eyes vp to euery window, wel noting what they sée ther, whether apparell or linnen, hanging neere vnto the sayde wyndows, and that wil they be sure to haue y ^• next night folowing, for they customably cary with them a staffe of v. or vi. foote long, in which, within one inch of y ^• top therof is a little hole [...]ored through: [Page] in which hole they putte an yron hoke, and with the same they will pluck vnto them quikly any thing y ^t thei may reach therwith, which hoke in the day time they couertly cary about thē, and is neuer sene or taken out till they come to the place where they worke their feat, such haue I sene at my house & haue oft talked with them and haue handled their staues not thē vnderstanding to what vse or intent thei serued, although I had and perceyued by their talke and behauiour great likelihode of euill suspition in them, they wil either leane vp­pon their staffe to hyde the hole therof, when they talk with you, or hold their hande vpon the hole, and what stuffe either wollen or linnen, they thus hoke out, thei neuer cary the same forthwith to their stauling kens, but hides the same a iii. daies in some secret corner, & after conueis the same to their houses abouesaid where their host or hostys giueth them money for the same but half the value that it is worth, or els their Doxes shal a far of sell the same at the like hou­ses. I was credibly informed that a hoker came to a farmers house in the dead of the night, and putting abacke a drawe windowe of a low chamber, the bed standing hard by the said window, in whiche lay thrée persons, a man and two bigge boyes: this hoker wyth hys staffe plucked of their garments which lay vpon them to kepe them warme, with the couerlet and shete, and left them lying a slepe na­ked sauing their shyrtes, and had away all cleane & neuer could vn­derstand where it became. I verely suppose that when they were wel waked with cold, they surely thought that Robin good fellow, (according to the old saying) had bene with them that night.

¶ A Roge. Cap. 4.

A Roge is neither so stout or hardy as the vpryght man: Many of them will go fayntly and looke piteousely when they sée eyther méete any person, hauing a kercher as white as my shoes tyed a­bout their head, with a short staffe in their hand, halting althoughe they nede not, requiring almes of such as thei mete or to what house thei shal come. But you may easely perceue by their coloure y ^t they cary both helth & hipocrisy about them, wherby they get gain, 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, dwelling within som part of y ^e shier ether that he hath a letter to deliuer to som honest housholder dwelling out of an other shyre, and wil shewe you the same fayre, sealed, with the superscription to [Page] the party he speaketh of, because you shall not thinke him to runne idelly about the countrey, either haue they this shifte, they will [...]ary a certificat or pasport about them from some Iusticer of the peace, with his hand and seale vnto the same, how hee hath bene whipped and punished for a vagabonde according to the lawes of this realme and that he must returne to [...] T. where he was borne or last dwelt, by a certayn day limited in the same, which shalbe a good long day, And all this fayned, because without feare they woulde wickedly wander, and wil renewe the same where or when it pleaseth them: for they haue of their affinitie that can write and reade. These also will picke and steale as the vpright men, and hath their women and méetings at places appoynted, and nothing to them inferiour in all kind of knauery There be of these Roges Curtales, wearing short [...]lokes, that will change their apparell as occasion serueth, and their end is eyther hanging, which they call Trming in their language, or dye miserably of the pockes

¶ There was not long sithens two Roges that always did asso­ciat themselues togither & would neuer seperat themselues vnles it were for some especiall causes, for thei were sworn brothers, & were both of one age and much like of fauor: these two traueling into east kent, resorted vnto an ale house, being weried with traueling, salu­ting with short curtesie (when they came into the house) such as thei saw fitting there: in which cōpany was the parson of the parish, and calling for a pot of the best ale, sat down at the tables end: the liquor liked them so well that they had pot vpon pot, & sometime for a little good maner would drink and offer the cup to such as thei best fancied and to be short they sat out al the cōpany, for ech man departed home about their busines: when they had well refreshed themselues, then these rowsy roges requested the good man of the house with his wife to sit down and drink with them: of whom thei inquired what priest the same was and wher he dwelt, then thei faining that they had an vncle a priest, & that he should dwell in these partes which by al pre­sumptions it should be he, and that they came of purpose to speak w ^t him, but bicause thei had not seen him sithens they were sire yeares old, they durst not be bold to take acquaintāce of him vntil thei wer farther instructed of the truth, and began to inquire of his name, & how long he had dwelt there, and how far his house was of from y ^• place they wer [...] in, the good wyfe of the house, thinkinge them ho­nest men without dilceit, bicause they so far enquired of their kins­man, was [...]ut of a good zelous natural intent, shewed them chéerefully [Page] that he was an honest man and wel beloued in the parish and of good welth, and had ben there resident xv. yeares at the least, but saith she, are you both brothers? yea surely said they, wee haue bene both in one belly and were twinnes: mercy God quoth this folishe woman, it may well be, for ye be not much vnlike, & went vnto her hall window calling these yong men vnto her, & looking out pointed. with her finger and shewed them the house standing alone, no house neere the same by almost a quarter of a myle, that sayd she is your vncles house: nay saith one of them he is not onely my vncle, but also my Godfather, it may well be quoth shee, nature will bind him to bee the better vnto you: well quod they, we be weary & mean not to trouble our vncle to night, but to morrow god willinge, wée will see him and do our duty. But I pray you doth our vncle occupye husbandry, what company hath he in his house? alas saith shée, but one old woman & a boy he hath no occupying at all: tush q this good wife you be mad mē, go to him this night for he hath better lodging for you then I haue, and yit I speak folishly against myne own pro­fit, for by your taring here I should gayn y ^e more by you Now by my troth q one of them, we thank you good hostes for your holsom coū ­cell, and we meane to do as you will vs, we will pause a whyle and by that tyme it wilbe almost night, and I pray you geue vs a recke­ning (so manerly paying for that they tooke) had their hoste & hostes farewell with taking leaue of the cup: marched merelye out of the dores towards this parsons house, vewed the same well roūd about and passed by two bowshotes of into a yong wood where they laye consulting what they should do vntill midnight, quoth one of them (of sharper wyt and subtiller then the other) to his fellow, thou seest that this house is stone walled about, and that we cannot wel break in, in any part therof: thou séest also that the windowes be thicke of mullions, that there is no kreeping in betwene, wherfore we must of necessi [...]y vse some pollicy when strength will not serue. I haue a horse locke here about me, saith he, and this I hope shall serue oure turne: so when it was about xii of the clock they came to the house & lurked neere vnto his chamber windowe: the dog of the house bar­ked a good, that with the noise, this priest waketh out of his sleepe, & began to cough and hem: then one of these roges steps forth necrer the window & maketh a rufull & pityfull noyse, requiring for Christ sake some relief that was both hungry & thirsty and was like to lye without the dores all night and starue for cold, vnles he were relee­ [...]ed by him with some small piece of money. Where dwellest thou, [Page] qthis parson? alas syr sayth this roge. I haue small dwelling, and haue come out of my way: & I should now saith he, go to any towne now at this tyme of night, they would set me in the stockes and pu­nish me: well quoth this pitifull parson, away from my house, ey­ther lye in some of my outhouses vntill the morning and hold here is a couple of pence for thée. A God reward you, quoth this roge, & in heauen may you find it. The parson openeth his widow & thru­steth out his arme to giue his almes to this roge that [...] came whi [...]ing to receiue it, and quickly taketh hold of his hand and calleth his fel­low to him, which was redy at hand with the horse lock & clappeth the same about the wrest of his arme that the mullions stan­ding so close togither for strēgth, that for his lyfe he could not pluck in his arme again, and made him beleue, vnles he would at the least giue them i [...] pound, they would smi [...]e of his arme from the body, so that this poore parson in feare to lose his hand, called vp his old wo­man that lay in the loft oner him, and willed her to take out all the money he had, which was iiij. markes, which he said was all y ^• mo­ney in his house, for he had lent vi. poūd to one of his neighbors not iiij. dayes before. Wel q they, maister parson if you haue no more, vpon this condicion we will take of the locke that you will drink xij. pence for our sakes to morow at the ale house where he found you & thāk the good wife for the good chere she made vs: be promised faithfully that he would so do: so they toke of the lock and went their way so far ere it was day, that the parson coulde neuer haue any vnder­standing more of them: now this parson sorowfully slumberinge y ^t night betwene feare and hope, though it was but folly to make two sorows of one, he vsed cōtentation for his remedy, not forgettyng in the morning to performe his promise but wēt betimes to his neigh­bour that kept tipling, and asked angerly where the same two men were that drank with her yester daye: which two men qthis good wyfe? the straungers that came in, when I was at your house with my neighbors yesterday: what your neuewes q she. My neuews q this parson, I trow thou art mad. Nay by god q this good wife, as sober as you, for they told me faithfully that you wer their vncle, but in faith are you not so in déed, for by my troth they are straungers to me, I neuer saw them before. O out vpon them q the parson, thei be false theues, & this night they cōpelled me to giue them all this mo­ney in my house. Benedicite q this good wife, & haue they so in déed? as I shall aunswere before god, one of them told me besides y ^t you were godfather to him and that he trusted to haue your blessinge be­fore [Page] he departed, what did he, quoth this parson, a halter blesse him for me, me thinketh by the masse by your countenance you loked so wildly when you came in quoth this good wyfe, that somthing was amis [...] I vse not to iest quoth this parson when I speak so earnestly, why all your sorowes goe with it quoth his good wife, & sit downe here and I will fil a freshe pot of ale to make you mery again, yee saith this parson fil in & giue me som meat, for they made me swear and promise them faithfully that I should drinke xij. pence with you this day? what did they quoth she, nowe by the mary masse they bee mery knaues, I warrant you they meane to bye no lande with your money: but how could they come vnto you in the night, your dores being shut fast? your house is very strong, then this parson shewed her all the whole circumstance how he gaue thē his a [...]mes, out at the window, they made such lamentable crye, that it pitied him at the hart, for he sawe but one when he put out his hand at the win­dow, he ruled by me quoth this good wyfe, wherein quoth this par­son [...] by by troth neuer speake more of it when they shal vnderstand of it in the parish they will but laugh you to skorne, why then quoth this parson [...] the deuill goe with it, and their an ende.

¶ A Wylde Roge. Cap. 5.

A Wilde Roge is he that is borne a Roge, he is more subtill and more gyuen by nature to all kind of knauery then the other, as heastly begotten in barn or bushes, and from his infancy traded vp in trechery: yea and before rypenes of yeares doth permit, wallow­ing in lewd lechery, but that is counted amongst them no sin. For this is their custome, that when they méete in barne at night, euery one getteth a mate to lye withall, and there chaunce to be twentye in a company, as their is sometime more, and sometime lesse: for to one man that goeth abroad, there ar at the least two women, which neuer make it straunge when they bee called, although shee neuer knew him before. Then when the day doth appeare, hée rouses him vp and shakes his eares, and away wandering where he maye gette ought to the hurt of others. Yet before he skyppeth out of his couche and departeth from his darling (if he like her well) he will appoynte her where to méete shortly after, with a warning to worke warely for some chetes, that their méeting might be the merier.

Not long sithens, a wild roge chaunced to mete a pore neighbor of mine who for honesty & good nature surmounteth many. This pore man riding homeward from London, where he had made his mar­ket: [Page] this roge demaunded a peny for Gods sake to keepe him a tru [...] man. This simple man beholding him wel, and saw he was of tal [...] personage with a good quarter staffe in his hand, it much pi [...]ied him as he sayd to see him want, for he was well able to serue his prince in the warres. Thus being moued with pitie, loked in his purse too find out a peny, and in loking for the same, he plucked out viii. shil­lings in whyt money, and raked therin to find a single peny, and at the last finding one, doth offer the same to this wild roge but he sée­ing so much money in this simple mans hand, beeing striken to the hart with a couetous desire, hid him forthwith to deliuer all that hée had, or else he would with his staffe beat out his braynes: for it was not a peny would nowe quench his thirst séeing so much as he dyd: thus swallowing his spittell gredely down, spoyled this poore man of all the money that hee had, and lept ouer the hedge into a thicke wood, and went his way as merely as this good simple man came home sorowfully. I once rebucking a wilde Roge, because he wente idelly about: he shewed me that he was a begger by inheritance, his Grandfather was a begger, his father was one, and he must nedes be one by good reason.

A Prigger of Prauncers. Cap. 6.

A Prigger of Prauncers be horse stealers, for to prigge signifieth in their language to steale, & a Prauncer is a horse, so being put togither, the matter was playn. These go commonly in Ierkins of leather or of whyt fréese, & cary little wands in their hands, and wil walke through grounds and pastures, to search and sée horses méete for their purpose, and if they chaunce to be met & asked by the own­ners of the ground what they make there, they fayne strayghte that they haue lost their way and desire to be instructed the best waye to such a place. These will also repayre to gentlemens houses & aske their charitie [...] and will offer their seruice. And if you aske thē what they can doe, they will say that they can kepe two or three Geldings and wayte vpon a Gentleman. These haue also their women that walking from them in other places, marke where and what they sée abroade, and sheweth these Priggars therof, whē they méet, which is within a weeke or two, and looke where they steale any thinge, they conuey the same at the least thrée score myles of or more.

¶ There was a Gentleman, a very friend of myne, ryding from London homeward into Kent, hauinge wyth in thrée myles of hys house businesse, alyghted of his horse, and his man also, in a pretye [Page] village, where diuers houses were, and looked about him where he might haue a conuenient person to walke his horse, because hee would speake w ^t a Farmer that dwelt on the backe side of the sayde villag [...] litle aboue a quarter of a myle from the place where he ligh­ted and had his man to waight vpon him [...] as it was mete for his cal­linge, espying a Priggar there standing, thinking the same to dwel there, charging this prety prigging person to walke his horse well, and that they might not stand still for taking of colde, and at his re­turne (which he said should not be longe) he would giue him a peny to drinke, and so went about his busines. This pelting Priggar, proud of his praye, walketh his horse vp and downe, tyll hee sawe the Gentleman out of sight, and [...]eapes him into the saddell, and a­way he goeth a mayne. This Gentleman returninge, and fynding not his horses, sent his man to the one end of the village, & he went himselfe vnto the other end [...] and enquired as he went for his horses that were walked [...] and began somewhat to suspecte, bicause neither he nor his man could sée nor find him. Then this getleman diligent­ly enquired of three or foure town dwellers there, whether any such person, declaring his stature, age, apparell, with so many linaments of his body as he could call to remembrance. And vna voce all sayde that no such man dwelt in their streat, neither in the parish that thei knew of, but somy did wel remember that such a one [...]ey saw ther lyrking and huggering twoo houres before the Gentleman came thither and a straunger to them. I had thought quoth this Gentle­man, he had here dwelled [...] and marched home manerly in his botes far from the place he dwelt not. I suppose at his comming home he sent such wayes as he suspected or thought méete to searche for thys Prigger, but hetherto he neuer hard any tydings againe of his pal­freys. I had the best gelding stolen out of my pasture that I had a­mongst others, whyle this booke was fi [...] a printing.

¶ A Pallyard. Cap. 7.

THese Palliards be called also Clapperdogens, these go wit pat­ched clokes, & haue their Morts with them which they cal wiues: and if he goe to one house to aske his almes, his wyfe shall go to an other, for what they get, as bread, chéese, malte, and wol [...], they s [...]l the same for redy money, for so they get more, and if they went togither, although they be thus deuided in the daye, yet they meete [...]ompe at night: if they chaunce to come to some gentilmans house standinge [Page] alone, and be demaunded whether they be man and wyfe, and if he perceyue that any doubteth therof, he sheweth them a Testimonial with the ministers name and others of the same parishe, naminge a parish in some shyre far distant from the place where he sheweth [...] the same. This writing he carieth to salue that sore: There be many I­rish men that go about with counterfeat licences, and if they per­ceyue you will straitly examin them, they will immediatly say they can speake no English.

¶ Farther vnderstand for truth, that the worst and wickedst of all this beastly generation ar scarce comparable to these prating pally­ards. All for y ^e most part of these will either lay to their legs an herb called Sperewort, either Arsnicke, which is called Ratesbane. The nature of this Spereworte will rayse a great blyster in a night vpō the soundest part of his body, and if y ^e same be taken away, it wil dry vp again and no harme. But this Arsnick will so poyson the same legge or sore, that it wil euer after be incurable, this do thei for gayn and to be pitied. The most of these that walke about be walchmen.

A Frater. Cap. 8.

SOme of these Fraters wil cary black bores at their girdel, wher­in they haue a briefe of the Quenes maiesties letters patents gi­uen to such poore spittle house for the relief of y ^e poore there, whiche brief is a coppie of the letters patents, & vtterly fained, if it be in pa­per or in parchment without the great seal: also if y ^e same brief be in print, it is also of authoritie For y ^e printers wil sae & well vnderstād before it com in presse, that the same is lawful. Also I am credibly informed that the chief Proctors of many of these houses, that seldome trauel abrod thēselues, but haue their factors to gather for thē, which looke very slenderly to the impotent & miserable creatures cōmitted to their charge [...] & die for wāt of cherishīg wheras they & their wiues are wel crāmed & cloted & wil haue of the best And the founders of euery such house, or the chief of the parish wher they be, would bet­ter see vnto these proctors, that they might do their duty, thei should be wel spokē of here, and in the world to come aboūdantly therfore rewarded. I had of late an honest man and of good wealth, repayred to my house to common with me about certayne affaires. I inuited the same to dinner, and dinner being done, I demaunded of him some newes of these parties were hee dwelt. Thankes bee to God syr (saith he) all is well & good now. Now (quoth I) this same nowe [Page] declareth y ^• some things of late hath not bene wel. Yes syr ( q he) the matter is not great, I had thought I should haue bene well beaten within this seuenth night: how so (quoth I) mary syr sayd hee, I am Constable for fault of a better, and was commaunded by the Iusti­cer to watch. The watch being set, I toke an honest man one of my neighbours with me and went vp to the end of the town as farre as the spittle house: at which house I heard a great noyse, and drawing neere stode close vnder the wall, and this was at one of the clocks after midnight [...] where he harde swearinge, pratinge, and wagers laying, and the pot apace walking, and xl. pence gaged vpon a mat­che of wrastling, pitching of the barre, and casting of the sledge: and out they go in a fustian sume into the back syde, where was a great Axiltry, and there fell to pitching of the bar, being thrée to three: the Moone did shyne bright, the Constable with his neighboure might sée and beholde al that was done. And howe the wyfe of the house was rosting of a Pyg, whyle her gestes were in their match. At the last they could not agrée vpon a caste and fell at wordes, and from wordes to blowes. The Constable wyth his fellowe runnes vntoo them to parte them, and in the parting lyckes a drye blowe or two. Then the noyse increased, the Constable would haue had them too the stockes. The wyfe of the house runnes out with hir good man to intreat the Constable for her grstes, and leaues the Pyg at the fyre alone. In commeth two or thrée of the next neighboures being wa­ked with this noyse, and into the house they come and fynde none therein but the Pygge well rosted, and carieth the same away with them, spit and all, with such breade and drinke also as stoode vppon the table. When the goodman and the good wyfe of the house had intreated and pacified the Constable, she winge vnto him that they were Proctors and Factors, all of Spyttle houses, and that they ta­ryed there but to breake their faste, and woulde ryde away immedi­ately after, for they had farre to goe, and therefore mente to ryde so earely. And comminge into their house agayn, fyndinge the Pygge with bread and drinke al gone, made a great exclamation, for they knew not who had the same.

The Constable returning and hearing the lamentable words of the good wyfe how she had lost both meate and drinke, and sawe it was so indeed, he laughed in his sleue, and commaunded her to dresse no more at vnlawfull houres for any gestes: for he thought if better bestowed vpon those smel feastes his pore neighbours, then vppon suche sturdye Lubbares. The next morninge betymes, the [Page] the spitte and pottes were set at the Spittle house doore for the ow­ner? Thus were these Factours begyled of their breakfast, and one of them had well beaten an other: and by my troth (quoth this Con­stable) I was glad when I was well ryd of them. Why quoth I, could they cast the barre and sledge well? I will tell you syr (quoth hée) you know there hath bene many games this sommer, I thinck verely, that if some of these Lubbars had bene there, and practysed a­mongest others. I beleue they would haue caryed aways the best games: for they were so stronge and sturdy that I was not able to stand in their handes. Well (quoth I) at these games you speak of, both legges and armes be tryed: yea (quoth this officer, they be wic­ked men. I haue seene some of them sithens with cloutes bounde aboute their legges, and ha [...]ng with their staffe in their handes. Wherefore some of them (by God) be all naught.

¶ A Abraham man. Cap. 9.

THese Abraham men be those that fayn themselues to haue bene mad, and haue bene kept either in Bethelem, or in some other pryson a good time, and not one amongst twenty that euer came in prison for any such cause: yet will they say how pityously and moste extreemely they haue bene beaten and dealt with all. Some of these be mery and very pleasaunt, they will daunce and sing, some others be as colde and reasonable to talke withall. These begge money, eyther when they come at y ^• armoures houses, they will demaund Baken, eyther chéese, or wooll or any thinge that is worth money, and if they espye small company within, they will with [...]rce coun­tenaunce demaunde somewhat. Where for feare the maydes will giue them largely to be ryd of them.

¶ If they may conueniently come by any cheate, they wil pick [...] and [...]eale as the vpright man or Roge, poultrey or lynnen. And all wemen that wander, be at their commaundement. Of all that euer I sawe of this kinde, one naming him selfe Stradlinge, is the craftiest and moste dissemblingest knaue. Hée is able wyth hys tounge and vsage, to deceyue and abuse the wysest man that is. And surely for the proporcion of his body, with euery member therunto appa [...]ning, it cannot be amended But as the prouerbe is (God hath done his part.) This Stradling sayth he was the Lorde Stur­tons man, and when he was executed for very pensiuenes of minde [Page] he fell out of his witte, and so continued a yeare after and more, and that with the very gréefe and feare, he was taken with a maruelous palsey, that both head and handes will shake when he talketh with any and that apace or faste, whereby he is much pytied, and getteth greatly. And if I hadde not demaunded of others both men and wo­men, that commonly walketh as he doth, and knowne by them his déepe dissimulation, I neuer had vnderstande the same. And thus I end with these kinde of vagabondes.

¶ A freshe water Mariner or Whip­ [...]acke. Cap. 10.

THese fresh water Mariners, their shippes were drowned in the playne of Salisbury. These kinde of Caterpillers, counterfet great losses on the sea, these be some Western men, and moste bee Irish men. These will runne about the countrey with a counterfet licence, fayninge eyther shipwracke, or spoyled by Pyrates, neare the coaste of Cornwall or Deuonshyre and set a lande at some ha­uen towne there, hauing a large and formall writinge, as is aboue sayd, with the names and seales of such men of woorshippe at the least foure or fiue as dwelleth neare or next to the place where they fayne their landing. And neare to those shyeres will they not begge vntill they come into Wylshyre, Hamshyre, Barkeshyre, O [...]ford­shyre, Harford shyre, Middelsex, and to London, and downe by the ryuer to seeke for their shippe and goods that they neuer hadde, then passe they through Surrey, Sussex, by the sea coastes, & so into kent, demaunding almes to bringe them home to their countrey.

Sometime they counterfet the seale of the Admiraltie, I haue di­uers times taken awaye from them their licences of bothe sortes, with suche money as they haue gathered, and haue confiscated the same to the pouertie nighe adioyninge to me. And they will not be longe without an other, for at any good Towne they will renewe the same. Once with muche threatninge and fayre promises, I re­quired to knowe of one companye who made their licence. And they sware that they bought the same at Portsmouth of a Mariner there, and it cost them two shillings, with such warrants to bee so good and effectual, that if any of the best men of lawe or learned a­boute London shoulde peruse the same, they were able to fynde no faute therewith, but would assuredly allow the same.

[Page]

A counterfet Cranke. Cap. 11.

THese that do counterfet the Cranke be yong knaues and yonge harlots, that déeply dissemble the falling sicknes. For the Crank in their language is the fallinge euill, I haue séene some of these with fayre writing [...]s testimonials, with the names and [...]eales of s [...]me men of worship in Shropshyre, and in other Shires farre of, that I haue wel known and haue taken the same from them. Many of these do go without writings, and will go halfe naked, and looke most pitiously. And if any clothes be giuen them they immediately sell the same, for weare it they will not, because they would be the more pitied, and we are filthy clothes on their heads, and neuer goe without a péece of whyte sope about them, which if they sée cause or present gayn, they will priuely conuay the same into their mouth, & so worke the same there, that they will fome as it were a Boore, and maruelosly for a tyme torment them selues, and thus deceiue they the common people, and gayne much. These haue commonly their harlots as the other.

¶ Uppon Alhallonday in the morning last Anno Domini 1566. or my boke was halfe printed, I meane the first impression, there came earely in the morninge a counterfet Cranke vnder my lodginge at the whyte Fryers within the cloyster, in a little yard or court wherabouts lay two or thre great Ladyes, being without the liberties of London, wherby he hoped for the greatter gayne: this Cranke there lamentably lamenting, and pitifully crying to be relieued, declared to diuers there his paynful and miserable disease. I being rysen and not halfe ready, hard his dolful words and ruful mournings, hear i [...] him name the fallen sicknes, thought assuredlye to my selfe, that hée was a depe desembler: so comming out at a sodayne, and beholding his ougly and yrksome attyre, his lothsom and horible coūtinance, it made me in a maruelous perplexity what to think of him, whether it were fained or trueth for after this maner went he: he was naked from y ^• wast vpward, sauing he had an old Ierkin of leather, patched and that was lose about him, that all his bodye lay out bare a filthy soul cloth he ware on his head, being cut for the purpose, hauing a narow place to put out his face, w ^t a bauer made to trusse vp his beard, and a string that tyed the same down close about his necke, with an old felt hat which he still caried in his hand, to receyue the charitye and deuotion of the people, for that would he hold out from him, ha­uing his face from the eyes downward, all smerd with fresh bloud, [Page] as though he had new fallen, and bin tormented with his paynefull panges, his ierken being all berayde with durte and myre, and hys harte and hosen also, as thoughe hée hadde wallowed in the myer: surely the sight was monstrous and terrible. I called him vnto me and demaunded of him what he ayled. A good maister, quoth he, I haue the gréeuous and payneful disease called the falling sickenes: why, quoth I, how commeth thy ierkin, hose and hat so berayd wyth durt and myer, and thy skin also? A good maister I fell down on the backesyde here in a fowle lane harde by the water syde, and there I laye almost all night, and haue bled all moste all the bloude out in my body. It raynd that morninge very faste: and whyle I was thus talking with him, a honest poore woman that dwelt thereby, brou­ght him a fayre lynnen cloth, and bid hym wype his face therewith, and there being a tobbe standing full of rayn water, offered to giue him some in a dishe, that he might make himselfe cleane, he refuseth the same: why dost thou so quoth I? A syr saith he, if I shoulde washe my selfe, I should fall to bleding a fresh agayne, and then I shoulde not stop my selfe: these words made me the more to suspecte hym.

Then I asked of him where he was born, what his name was, how long he had this disease, and what time he had ben here about Lon­don, and in [...] what place [...] syr (sayth he) I was borne at Leycestar, my name is Nicholas Genings, and I haue had this falling sicknes viij yeares, and I can get no remedy for the same, for I haue it by kind, my father had it and my friends before mee, and I haue bene these two yeares here about London, and a yere and a half in Bethelem: why wast thou out of thy wittes, quoth I? yea syr that I was.

What is the kepers name of the house? his name is (quoth he) Iohn Smith [...] then quoth I, hée muste vnderstande of thy disease, if thou hadest the same for the time thou wa [...]t there, he knoweth it wel, ye not only he, but all the house besyde, quoth this Cranke, for I came thens but within this fortnight. I had stand so longe reasoning the matter with him, that I was a cold and went into my chamber and made me ready, and commaunded my seruant to repayr to bethlem and bring me true word from the kéeper there, whether anye suche man hath ben with him as a prisoner, hauing the disease aforesayd, and gaue him a no [...]e of his name & the kéepers also: my seruant re­turning to my lodging, dyd assure me that neyther was there euer any such man there, neither yet any keper of any suche name, but hee that was the kéeper sent mée his name in writing, affirminge that he letteth no man depart from him, vnlesse he be fet aways by [Page] his friendes, and that none that came from him begged aboute the Citie: then I sent for the Printer of this booke, and shewed him of this dissembling Crank, and how I had sent to Bethelem to vnder­stand the tr [...]th, and what aunsweare I receiued againe, requiringe him that I might haue some seruant of his to watch him faythfully that daye, that I might vnderstand trustely to what place he would repaire at night vnto, and thyther I promysed to goe my selfe, to see their order, and that I would haue him to associate me thyther: hée gladly graunted to my request, and sent two boyes that bothe dili­gently & vigilantly, accomplisht the charge giuen them, & found the same Cranke about the Temple, where about the most parte of the day he begged, vnlesse it were abou [...] xii. of the clocke, hee wente on the backsyde of Clementes Ine without Temple barre, there is a lane that goeth into the Fieldes, there hée renewed his face agayne with freshe bloud, which he caried about him in a bladder, and daw­bed on fresh dyrte vpon his, ierken, hat and hosen.

And so came backe agayne vnto the Temple, and sometyme to the Water syde, and begged of all that passed by: the boyes behelde how some gaue grotes, some sire pence, some gaue more: for hée looked so ougley and yrksomly, that euery one pitied his miserable case that beheld him: to be shorte, there he passed all the daye tyll night approched [...] and when it began to be some what dark, he went to the water syde and toke a Skoll [...]er, and was set ouer the water into Saincte Georges fieldes, contrary to my expectation: for I had thought he would haue gonne into Holborne, or to saynt Gylles in the field: but these boyes with (Argues and Lynces tyes) sette sure watch vppon him, and the one toke a Boate and followed him, and the other went back to tell his maister.

The boy that so folowed him by water, had no money to pay for his boate hyre, but layd his Penner and his [...]nckhorne to gage for a penny, and by that tyme the boye was set ouer: his maister wyth all celeritie had taken a Boate and followed him a pace. Now had they a syght still of the Cranke, whiche crossed ouer the fieldes to­wardes Newington, and thither the went, & by that time they came thether, it was very darke. The Printer had there no acquaintance, neyther any kinde of weapon about him, neyther knewe he howe farre the Cranke would goe, because hee then suspected that they dogged him of purpose, hee there stayed him, and called for y ^• Con­stable, which came foorth diligently, to inquire what the matter was. This zelous Printer charged this officer with him as a ma­lefactor, [Page] and a dissembling vagabond: the Constable woulde haue layd him all night in the Cage that stode in the streat: nay saith this pytyfull Printer, I pray you haue him into your house, for this is lyke to be a cold night and he is naked, you kepe a vittelling house, let him be well cherished this night, for he is well able to paye for the same, I knowe well his gaynes hath ben great to day, and your house is a sufficient pryson for the tyme, and we will there searche him: the Constable agreed thereunto, they hadde him in and caused him to washe himself: that done, they demaunded what money hée had about him, sayth this Cranke, so God helpe me I haue but xij. pence, and plucked out the same of a little purse. Why haue you no more quoth they? no sayth this Cranke, as God shall saue my soule at the day of iudgment. We must sée more quoth they and began to strip him, then he plucked out another purse wherein was xl. pence. Tush sayth this Printer I must sée more, this Cranke sayth, I pray God I be damned both body and soule, if I haue any more: No saith this Printer, thou false knaue here is my boye that did watch thée al this day, and sawe when suche men gaue thée péeces of sire pence, grot [...]s and other money, and yit thou hast shewed vs none but smal money. When this Cranke heard this, and the boy vowing it to his face, he relented and plucked out another purse wherein was eight shillings & od money, so had they in the whole that he had begged y ^• day. xiij. shillings iij. pence half peny: then they stript him starke na­ked, and as many as saw him, sayd they neuer saw hansommer mā, with a yellow fleren beard, and fayre skinned without any spot or greffe, then the good wyfe of the hause fet her goodmans old cloke, and caused the same to be cast about him, because the sight shoulde not abashe her shamefast maydens, nether loth hir squaimish sight. Thus he set him downe at the Chemnes end, and called for a pot of Béere and dranke of a quart at a drafte, and called for another, and so the third, that one had ben sufficient for any reasonable man: the drynk was so stronge, that I my self the next morning tasted therof, but let the reader iudge what, and how much he would haue dronke if he had bene out of fear. Then when they had thus wrong water out of a flint, in spoylīg him to his euill gottē goods, his passing pence & fleting trashe. The Printer with this officer were in ioly ioylitie, and deuised to search a barne for som roges, & vpright men, a quar­ter of a myle from the house, that stode alone in the fieldes, & wente out about their busines, leauing this cranke alone with hys wyfe & maydens: this crafty Crāk espying al gon, requested y ^• good wife that [Page] he might go out on the backsyde to make water and to exonerat his pa [...]ch, sh [...] had him draw the [...]atch of the doore & go out, neither thin king or mistrusting he would haue gone away naked: but to cōclude

when [...]e was out, he cast away the cloke, and as naked as euer he was born he ran away ouer the fields to his own house, as hée afterward said. Now y ^e next morning beti­mes I wente vnto [...] Newingtō to vnder [...]stand what was do [...] because I had worde or it was day y ^e there my printer was, & at my comming thither I harde y ^e whole cir­cūstance, as I aboue haue written: and I seeing the matter so fal out, toke order w ^t the chief of y ^e parish y ^e this xiij shillings & iij. pence halfpeny might he the next day equally distributed by their good discretions to the pouertie of the same parish, wherof this crafty cranck had part him selfe, for he had both house and wife in the same parishe, as after you shall heare. But this iewde lewterar could not laye his bones to la­bour hauing got once the tast of this lewed laysy lyfe, for al this fayr admonition but deuised other suttell sleights to maintaine his ydell liuing, and so craftely clothed him selfe in Mariners apparel, and a­sociated him self with another of his companions, they hauing both Mariners apparel, went abroad to aske charity of y ^• people, fayning they hadde loste their shippe with all their goods by casualty on the seas, wherewith they gayned much. This crafty Cranke fearing [...] to be mistrusted, fell to another kinde of begging as bad or worse, & apparelled himselfe very well with a fayre black fréese cote, a new [...] payre of whyte hose, a fyne felt hat on his head, a shert of flaunders worke, esteemed to be worth xvi. shillings: and vpon newe yeares day came againe into the whyt fryers to beg: the Printer hauing [...] [Page] occas [...]on to go that ways, not thinking of this Cranke, by chaunce met with him who asked his charitie for Gods sake: the printer vewing him well did mistrust him, to be the counterfet Cranke which deceiued him vpon [...] Alhollen daye at night, demaunded to whence he was and what was his name, forsoth saith he, my name is Nicolas Genings, and I came from Lecester to séekeworke, and I am a hat maker by my occupation, and all my money is spent, and if I coulde get money to paye for my lodging this night: I would seke work tomorowe amongst the hatters. The printer perceiuing his depe dissimulation putting his hand into his purse seeming to giue him some money, and with fayre allus [...]ons brought him into the stréete, where he charged the Constable with him, affirminge him to be the coun­terfet Cranke that ranne away vpon Alholon daye last. The Con­stable being very loth to medle with him, but the printer knowing him and his depe disceit, desyred he mought be brought before the Debutie of the ward, which straight was accomplished, which whē he came before the debu [...]y, he demaunded of him of whence he was and what was his name, he answered as before he did vnto y ^e prin­ter: the Debutie asked the Printer what he woulde laye vnto hys charge, he answered & aleged him to be a vagabond and depe decey­uer of the people, and the counterfet Crank that ran away vpon Al­hallon day last from the Constable of Newington and him, and re­quested him earnestly to send him to ward: the debuty thinking him to be deceiued, but neuerthelesse laid his cōmaundement vpon him, so that the Printer should beare his charges if he could not iustifie it he agréed thereunto. And so he and the Constable went to cary him to the Counter, and as they were going vnder Ludgate, this crafty Crank toke his héeles & ran down the hill as fast as he could dryue, the Constable and the Printer after him as fast as they coulde, but the Printer of y ^e twayn being lighter of fote, ouertoke him at fleete bridge, and with strong hand caried him to the Counter, and safely deliuered him. In y ^e morow y ^e printer sent his boy that stripped him vpon Alhalon day at night to view him because he would b [...]e sure, which boy knew him very well: this Crank confessed vnto the De­buty, y ^e he had hosted the night before in Kent stréet in Southwarke at the signe of the Cock, which thing to be true, the printer sente to know & found him a lyer, but further, inquiring at length found out his habitation, dwelling in maister Hilles rentes, hauinge a pretye house well stuffed with a fayre ioyne table, and a fayre Cubbard garnished with peuter, hauing an old auncient woman to his wife. [Page] The Printer being sure therof, repaired vnto the Counter, and re­buked him for his beastly behauiour, & told him of his false fayning, willed him to confesse it and aske forgiuenes: he perceyued him to know his depe dissimulation, relented and confessed all his disceit, & so remayning in the counter thrée dayes, was remoued to Brydwel where he was stript starke naked, and his ougly attyre put vpō him before the maisters thereof, who wondred greatly at his dissimula­tion: for which offence he stode vpon the Pillery in Cheapsyde, both in his ougly and handsome attyre. And after that went in the myll whyle his ougly picture was a drawing, and then was whypped at a Cartes tayle through London, and his displayd banner caried be­fore him, vnto his own doore, and so backe to Bryde well again, and their remayned for a time, & at length let at libertie on that condiciō he would proue an honest man and labour truly to get his liuing. And his picture remayneth in Brydewell for a monyment.

A Dommerar. Cap. 12.

THese Dommerars are leud and moste subtill people, the moste part of these are Walch men, and will neuer speak, vnlesse they haue extréeme punishment but will gape, and with a marucious force will hold downe their toungs doubled, groninge for your cha­ritie, and holding vp their handes full piteously, so that with their déepe dissimulation they get very much. There are of these many, & but one that I vnderstand of hath lost his toung in déed: hauing on a tyme occasion to ryde to Dartford to speake with a priest there, who maketh all kind of cōserues very well, and vseth stilling of waters. And repayring to his house, I found a Dommerar at his doore, and the priest himselfe perusing his licence, vnder the seales and handes of certayne worshipfull men, had thought the same to bee good and effectual. I taking the same writing and reading it ouer and no [...]ing the seales, found one of the seales like vnto a seale that I had about me: which seale I bought besides Charinge crosse, that I was out of doubt it was none of those Gentlemens seales that had subscribed. And hauing vnderstanding before of their pe [...]ish practises, made me to conceiue that al was forged & nought. I made the more hast home for wel I wist that he would and must of force passe through the pa­rish where I dwelt, for there was no other way for him. And com­ming homeward, I found them in the towne accordinge to my ex­pectation, wher they where staid, for there was a Palliard associate [Page] with the Dommerar and partaker of his gaynes, which Pallyards I saw not at Darford. The staiers of them was a gentleman called Chayne, & a seruant of my Lord Kéepers, called Wostestow, which was the chief causer of the staying of them, being a Surgien & cun­ning in his science, had séene the like practises, and as he sayd hadde caused one to speake afore that was dome. It was my chaunce to come at the beginnīg of the matter. Syr ( q this Surgien) 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 domme man to speak. Quoth I you are wel 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 knowe their writing is fayned, and they depe dissemblers. The Surgien made him gape, & we could sée but halfe a toung. I required the Surgien to put his finger in his mouth, & to pull out his toung, and so he did, notwithstanding he held strongly a prety whyle: at the length he pluckt out the same, to the great ad­miration of many that stode by: yet when we sawe his tounge, hée would neither speake nor yet could heare. Quoth I to the Surgien, knit t [...]o of his fingers togither and thrust a stycke betwene them, and rubbe the same vp and downe a little whyle, and for my lyfe he speaketh by and by. Syr quoth this Surgien, I pray 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 [...]oysed him vp ouer a beam, and their did let him hang a good while at length for very paine he required for gods sake to let him downe. So he that was both deafe and dume could in short tyme both heare and speake. Then I tooke that money I could find in his purse, and distributed the same to the poore people dwelling there, which was xv. pence halfpeny, being all that wee coulde finde. That done, and this mery myracle madly made. I sent them with my seruant to the nect Iusticer, where they preached on the pyllery for want of a pul­pet, and were well whypped, and none did bewayle them.

A Dronken Tinckar. Cap. 13.

THese dronken Tinckars called also prygges, be beastly people, & these yong knaues be y ^e worst: these neuer goe w ^tout their dores and if their woman haue any thing about them, as apparell or lin­nen that is worth the selling, they lay the same to gage or sell it out right (for bene house) and their bowsing ken. And full sone will they [Page] bée weary of them, and haue a new When they happen one worke at any good house, their Dores lynger alooft, and tarry for them in some corner, and if he taryeth longe from her, then the knoweth he hath worke, and walketh neare, and sitteth downe by him. For be­sydes money he loketh for meate and drink for doing his dame pleasure. For if she haue thrée or foure holes in a pan, hee will make as many more for spedy gayne. And if he see any olde kettle, chafer or pe [...]ter dish abroad in the yarde where he worketh, he quickly snap­peth the same vp, and into the booget it goeth rounde. Thus they liue with deceyte.

¶ I was credibly informed by such as could well tell [...] that one of these tipling Tinckers w ^t his dogge robbed by the high way iii [...]. Pallyards and two Roges six persons togither. and toke from them aboue foure pound in ready money, & hidd him after in a thicke wood a day or two and so escaped vntaken. Thus with picking and stea­ling, mingled with a little worke for a colour, they passe their time

¶ A Swadder or Pedler. Cap. 14.

THese Swadders and Pedlers be not all euill, but of an indiffe­rent behauiour. These stand in great awe of the vpright men, for they haue often both wares and mony of them. But for as much as they seeke gayne vnlawfully agaynst the lawes and statutes of this noble realme, they are well worthy to be registred amonge the number of vacabonds: and vndoutedly I haue hadde some of them brought before me when I was in commission of the peace as ma­lefactors for brybering and stealing. And now of late it is a greate practice of the vpright man, when he had gotten a bo [...]ye to bestowe the same vpon a packeful of wares, and so goeth a time for his plea­sure, because he would lyue without suspicion.

A Iarke man, and a Patrico. Cap. 15.

FOR as much as these two names a Iarkeman and a Patrico be in the old briefs of vacabonds, and set forth as two kindes of euil doers, you shall vnderstande that a Iarkeman hath hys name of a Iarke, which is a seale in their Language, as one should make wri­tings and set seales for licences and pasports. And for trueth there is none that goeth about the countrey of them that can eyther wryte so good and fayre a hand, eyther indite so learnedly as I haue sene & [Page] handled 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 saith, Omnia venalia Romae, and many hath confessed the same to me Now also there is a Patrico [...] and not a Patriarcha, whiche in their language is a priest that should make mariages till death did depart but they haue none such I am well assured. for I put you out of dout that not one amongst a hundreth of them are maried, for they take lechery for no sinne, but naturall felowship and good liking loue, so that I will not blot my booke with these two that be not.

A Demaunder for glymmar. Cap. 16.

THese Demaunders for glymmar be for the most parte women, for glymmar in their language is fyer: these goe with fayned ly­cences and counterfayted writings, hauing the hands and seales of suche Gentlemen as dwelleth neare to the place where they fayne themselues to haue bene burnt, and their goods consumed with fyre. They will most lamentably demaund your charity and wil quickly shed salt teares [...] they be so tender harted. They will neuer begge in that shyre where their losses (as they saye) was. Some of these goe with states at their backes, which is a sheete to lye in a nights. The vpright men be very familiar with these kinde of women, and one of them helpes another.

A Demaunder of glymmar came to a good towne in Kente, to aske the charitie of the people, hauing a fayned licēce about her that declared her misfortune by fyer done in Somershet shyre, walkinge with a wallet on her shoulders wherin she put the deuotion of such as hadde no money to gyue her, that is to say, malte, wooll, baken, bread and cheese: and alwayes as the same was full, so was it ready money to her when the emptyed the same, wher so euer shee traue­led. This harlot was (as they terme it) snowt fayre, and hadde an vpright man or two alwayes attending on her watche (which is on her person) and yet so circumspect, that they would neuer be seene in her company in any good Towne, vnles it were in small villages, where typling houses where, eyther traueling togither by the high wayes, but the truth is by report) she would wéekely be worth vi. or seuen shillings with her begging and bychery. This glymmerynge Morte repayring to an Ine in the said town where dwelt a widow of fifty yeare old, of good wealth, but shee had an vnthrifty sonne, whom she vsed as a chamberlaine to attend gestes whē thei repaired [Page] to her house, this amerous man beholding with ardant eyes: thys glymmering glauncer, was presently piteousely persed to the hart, and lewdly longed to be clothen vnder her liuery, and bestowing a fewe fonde wordes with her, vnderstood straight that she would be easely perswaded to liking lechery, and as a man mased, mused how to attayne to his purpose, for be hadde no money. Yet considering with him selfe that wares would bee welcome where money wan­teth, he went with a wanion to his mothers chamber and there sée­king about for odde endes, at length found a little wishell of siluer that his mother did vse customably to weare on, and had forgot the same for haste that morning, and offeres the same closely to this manerly marian, that if she would méete him on the backesyde of the town, and curteously kys him without constraint, she should be my­stresse therof and it were much better: wel sayth she you are a wan­ton, and beholding the wishell, was farther in loue therewith, then rauisht with his person, and agréed to méete him presently and to accomplish his fond fancy: to be short and not tedious, a quarter of a myle from the towne he merely toke measure of her vnder a baudy bush (so she gaue him that she had not, and he receyued that he could not) and taking leaue of ech other with a curteous kisse, she pleasantly passed forth on her iorney, and this vntoward lecherous chamberlayne repayred homeward. But or these twoo tortylles tooke their leaue, the good wyfe had missed her whishle, & sent one of her may­dens into her chamber for the same, and being long sought for, none could be found, her mystres hearing that, diligent search was made for the same, and that it was taken a way, began to suspecte her vn­blessed babe, and demaunded of her maydens whether none of them saw hir sonne in her chamber that morning, and one of them aun­swered that she saw him not there but comming from thence, then had she ynough, for well she wist that he had the same, and sente for him, but he could not be found: then she caused her hosteler, in whō she had better affiance in for his trueth, and yet not one amongest twenty of them but haue well left their honesty (as I heare a greate sort say) to come vnto her, which attended to know her pleasure, goe séeke out saith she my vntoward sonne, and bid him come speake with me. I saw him goe out saith hee, halfe an houre sithens on the backsyde, I had thought you had sent him of your arrant. I sent him not quoth she, goe looke him out.

This hollow hosteler toke his staffe in his neck, and trudged out apace that way he saw him before go, and had some vnderstanding [Page] by one of the maydens that his mistres had her wishell stolen & sus­pected her sonne, and he had not gon far but that he espyed him com­ming homeward alone, and meting him, asked where he had bene? where haue I ben q he, and began to smyle, now by the masse thou hast ben at some baudy banquet: thou haste euen tolde troth q this chamberlayne: surely q this hosteler, thou haddest the same woman that begged at our house to day, for the harmes she had by fire, wher is she q he? she is almost a myle by this tyme q this chamberlayne, where is my mistres whishel quoth this hosteler, for I am wel assu­red that thou haddest it, & I feare me thou hast giuen it to that har­lot. Why, is it missed quoth this chamberlayn? yea q this hosteler, and shewed him al the whole circumstance what was both said and thought on him for the thing. Well I wil tel thée quoth this cham­berlayne, I will be playne with thée. I had in dede & haue giuen the same to this woman, and I pray thée make the beste of it, and helpe now to excuse the matter, and yet surely and thou wouldest take so much payne for me as to ouertake her, for she goeth but softly and is not yit farre of and take the same from her, & I am euer thyne assu­red friend. Why then go with me quoth this hosteler, nay in fayth quoth this Chamberlayne what is frear then gift, and I had preaty pastime for the same: hade [...]t thou so quoth this hosteler? now by the masse and I will haue some to, or I will lye in the duste or I come a gain. Passing with hast to ouertake this paramoure within a myle frō y ^• place wher he departed he ouertoke hir hauing an vprightmā in her company a strong and a sturdy vacabond, somewhat amased was this hosteler to see one familiarly in hir company, for he had wel hoped to haue had some delicate daliaunce as his fellow hadde, but séeing the matter so fal out, and being of good corage, and thinking to him selfe that one true man was better then two false knaues, & being on the high way thought vpon helpe if nede had bene, by such as had passed to and fro: demaūded fiersely the whishel that she had euen now of his fellow: why husband quoth she, can you suffer this wretch to slaunder your wife? auaunt verlet quoth this vpright man and letes dryue withall his force at this hosteler, and after half a do­sen blowes he stricks his staffe out of his hand, and as this hosteler stept backe to haue taken vp his staffe agayne: this glymmerynge Morte flinges a great stone at him and strake him on the head, that downe he fales with the bloud about his eares, and whyle hée laye thus amased, the vpright man snatches awaye his pursse, where in he hadde money of his mistresses, as well as of his owne, and there [Page] let him lye and went away with spede, that they were neuer hearde of more. When this drye beaten hosteler was come to himselfe hée fayntly wandereth home, and créepeth into his couche and restes his ydell head: hys mystres heard that he was come in, and layd him downe on his bed, repayred straight vnto him, and asked him what be ayled, and what the cause was of his so sodden lyinge on his bed? what is the cause q this hostele, your whyshell, your wishell, spea­king the same piteously thrée or foure tymes: why sole quoth his my­stres, take no care for that for I do not greatly way it, it was worth but thrée shillings four pence. I would it had ben burnt for sour yee­res agon. I pray thée why so quoth his mystres? I thinke thou arte mad. Nay not yet quoth this hostler, but I haue ben madly handled: why, what is the matter q his mystres, and was more desirous to know the case: and you will forgiue my fellow & mee. I will shewe you, or els I will neuer do it: she made him presently faythfull pro­mise that she would, then sayth hée send for your sonne home again, which is ashamed to looke you in the face. I agree thereto sayth she, well then quoth this hosteler, your sonne hath geuen the same mort that begged here, for the burninge of her house, a whishell, and you haue giuen her fyue shillings in money, and I haue geuen her ten shillings of myn own: why so quoth shee, then he sadly shewed her of his mishap, with all the circumstance that you haue hearde be­fore, and how his purse was taken away, and xv. shillinges in the same, whereof v. shillings was her money, and x shillings his owne money. Is this true quoth his mystres? I by my trouth quoth thys hosteler and nothing gréeues me so much, neyther my beatynge, neyther the losse of my money, as doth my euill & wretched lucke. Why, what is the matter quoth his mystres? your sonne sayth this hostler had some chere and pastime for that whishell, for he lay with her, and I haue ben well beaten and haue had my pursse taken from me, and you know your sonne is mery and pleasaunt and can kéepe no great councell, and then shall I be mocked & laoghed to skorn in all places, when they shall heare how I haue ben serued. Nowe out vpon you knaues both, quoth his mystres, and laughes out the mat­ter, for she well sawe it would not otherwyse preuayle.

A Baudy Basket. Cap. 17.

THese Baudye Basketes bée also women, and goe with baskets and Capcases on their armes, where in they haue Laces, [Page] pinnes, nedels, whyte inkel, and round sylke gyrdels of all colours. These will bye conueskines, and st [...]ale linnen clothes of on hedges. And for their tryfles they will procure of mayden seruaunts, when their mistres or dame is out of the ware, eyther some good péece of béefe, bakē or cheese, that shalbe worth xii. pēce for ii. pence of their toyes. And as they walke by the way, they often gaine some money with their instrument, by such as they sodaynly mete withall. The vpright men haue good acquayntance with these, and wil helpe and relieue them when they want. Thus they trade their liues in leude lothsome lechery. Amongst 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 diuers.

There came to my gate the last sommer Anno Domini 1566. a very miserable man and much deformed as burnt in the face, bler [...] eyde, and lame of one of his legges that he went with a crouche. I asked him wher he was borne & wher he dwelt last, and shewed him that thither he must repaire and be releued, and not to range about the countrey, & seeing some cause of charity, I caused him to haue meate and drink, and when he had dronk, I demaunded of him whether he was neuer spoyled of the vpright man or roge, yes that I haue q he, but yet these seuen yeres, for so long haue I gon abroad I had not so much taken from me nor so euil hādled as I was with­in these iiij. dayes why, how [...]so q I? in good fayth sir quoth hée, I chaunced to mete with one of these baudy baskets which had an vp­right man in hir cōpany: and as I would haue passed quietly by her, man saith she vnto her mate, do you not sée this ilfauored windsha­ken knaue? yes q the vpright man, what say you to him, this knaue oweth me ij. shillings for wares he had of mee halfe a yere a go, I think it well said this vpright man: syrra saide he, pay your deths, said this poore man I owe hir none, nether did I euer bargayne w ^t her for any thing, and as I am aduised I neuer saw her before in all my lyfe, mercy god quoth she what a lying knaue is this, and he wil not pay you husband beat him surely, and the vpright man gaue mee thre or foure blowes on my back and shoolders and would haue beat me worse and I had not giuen him all the money in my purse, and in good faith for very feare I was fayn to giue him xiiij. pens which was al the money that I had: why said this baudy basket hast thou no more, then thou owest ten pence styll, and be well assured that I will be payde the next tyme I meete with thee. And so they let me passe by them. I pray god saue and blesse me & all others in my case [Page] from such wicked persons quoth this poore mā, why whether went they, then quoth I, into east Kent, for I met with them on thys side of Rochester. I haue diuers tymes bene attempted but I neuer lost much before. I thanke God ther came still company by, afore this vnhappy time. Well quoth I, thanke God of all, and repaire home into thy natiue countrey.

A Autem Morte. Cap. 18.

THese Autem Mortes be maried wemen, as there be but a fewe: For Autem in their language is a Church, so shee is a wyfe ma­ried at the Church, and they be as chaste as a Cowe: I haue y ^• gooeth to Bull euery moone, with what Bull she careth not. These walke most rymes from their husbands company a moneth and more togi­ther, being associate with another as honest as her selfe. These will pilfer clothes of hedges some of them go with children of ten or xij. yeares of age [...] if time and place serue for their purpose they wil send them into some house at the window to steale and robbe, which they [...]all in their language, Milling of the ken, & will goe with wallets on their shoulders and slates at their backs, there is one of these Au­tem Mortes, she is now a widow of fifty yeares old, her name is A­lice Milson, she goeth about with a couple of great boyes, the yōgest of them is fast vpon xx. yeares of age, and these two do lie with her euery night, and [...]he lyeth in the middes, she saith y ^• they be her chil­dren that be [...]cled be the babes borne of such abhominable belly.

¶ A Walking Morte. Cap. 19.

THese walking Mortes be not maryed, these for their vnhappye yeares doth go as a Autem Morte, and will saye their husbands died either at Newhauen Ireland, or in some seruice of the Prince. These make laces vpon staues & purses that they cary in their hands and white vallance for beddes. Many of these hath hadde, and haue children: 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 a­bout them that is of any value. Wherefore, this pollicy they vse, they leaue their money now with one and then with another tru [...]ty housholder, eyther with the good man or good wyfe, some tyme in one shire, and then in another as they trauell: this haue I knowne y ^• [Page] iiij. or v. shillings, yea x. shillinges left in a place, and the same will they come for againe within one quarter of a yere or some time not in halfe a yeare, and all this is to little purpose, for all their p [...]nishe pollicie: for when they bye them lynnen or garmentes, it is taken a­way from them and worse giuen them, or none at all.

The last Sommer Anno Domini 1566. beinge in familiar talks with a walkīg Mort, that came to my gate. I learned by hir what I could, & I thought I had gathered as much for my purpose as I de­sired, I began to rebuke her for hir leud life and beastly behauior, declaring to her what punishment was prepared & heaped vp for her in the world to come for hit filthy liuing and wretched conuersation. God helpe q she how should I liue, none will take me into seruice, but I labour in haruest time honestly. I think bat a whyle with ho­nesty q I. Shall I tell you q she, the best of vs may bee amended, but yit I thanke God, I did one good déed within this xii. monthes, wherin q I. Saith she I would not haue it spoken of again: if it be méete and necessary, q I, it shall lye vnder my feete: what mean you by that quoth she. I meane q I, to hide the same and neuer to disco­uer it to any. Well q she and began to laugh as much as she could & sware by the masse that if I disclosed the same to any she would ne­uer tell me any thinge. The last sommer q she I was greate wyth childe and I traueled into east kent by the sea coast, for I lusted maruelously after oyster and m [...]skels and gathered many, & in the place where I found them, I opened them and eate them still, at the laste in séeking more, I reached after one and stept into a hole and fel in, into the wast & their did stick, and I had ben drowned if the tide had come, and espying a man a good way of, I cryed as much as I could for helpe. I was alone, he hard me and repaired as fast to me as hee might, and finding me their fast sticking, I required for Gods sake his helpe, and whether it was with stryuing and forcing my self or for ioy I had of his comming to me, I had a great colour in my face and loked red and well coloured. And to be playne with you, hee ly­ked me so well (as he said) that I should there lye still, and I would [...] not graūt him that she might lye with me. And by my trouth I wist not what to answere, I was in such a perpleritie, for I knew y ^e man well, he had a very honest womā to his wyfe and was of som welth and on the other syde, if I were not helpe out, I shoulde there haue perished, and I graunted him that I would obeye to his will, then be plucked me out. And because there was no conuenient place néer hand, I required him that I might go washe my selfe and make me [Page] somewhat clenly, and I would come to his house and lodge al night in his barne, whether he might repayre to me and accomplishe his desire, but let it not be quoth she before nine of the clocke at nyght, for then there wilbe small styrring. And I may repayre to the town q she to warme & drye my self, for this was about two of the clocke in the after none, do so quoth he, for I must be busie to looke out my cattell here by before I can come home. So I went away from him and glad was I, and why so quoth I, because quoth she his wife my good dame is my very friend, and I am much beholding to hir And she had donne mee so muche good or this, that I were loth nowe to harme hir any way. Why so quoth I? what and it had ben any other man and not your good dames husband. The matter hadd bene the lesse quoth she. Tell me I pray thee quoth I, who was the father of the childe, she studied a whyle and sayd that it had a father, but what was hee quoth I? Nowe by my troth I know not quoth shee, you bring me out of my matter, so you do, well say on quoth I, then I departed strayte to the towne and came to my dames house. And shewed her of my misfortune, also of her husbands vsage in al poin­tes and that I showed her the same for good will and bydd her take better héed to her husband and to her selfe, so shee gaue mee great thankes and made me good chéere, and byd me in anye case that I should be redy at the barne at that time and houre we had apointed for I know well quoth this good wife my husband will not breake with thée. And one thing I warne thée that thou giue me a watche word a loude when he goeth about to haue his pleasure of thée, and that shalbée fye for shame fye, and I will bee harde by you, wyth helpe. But I charge thee kepe this secret vntill all be finished, and hold sayth this good wyfe here is one of my pe [...]cotes I giue thee. I thanke you good dame quoth I, and I warrante you I will bee true and trusty vnto you. So my dame left me sittinge by a good fyer with meate and drinke, and wyth the oysters I brought wyth me, I hadde great chéere, she went strayte and repayred vnto her gossipes dwelling thereby, and as I did after vnderstand, she made her mone to them, what a naughtye lewed lecherous husband thee hadde, and how that she could not haue his companye for har [...]ottes, and that she was in feare to take some filthy disease of him, he was so common a man, hauing little respect whom he h [...]dde to do with all, and quoth she now here is one at my house a poore woman that goeth about the countrey that he would haue hadde to doe with all, wherfore good neighboures and louinge gossypes as you loue mee [Page] and as you would haue helpe at my hand another tyme, deuyse some remedy to make my husband a good man, y ^• I may liue in som suerty without disease, and that hée may saue his soule that God so dearely bought. After shée had tolde her tale they cast their perstnge eyes all vpon her, but one stout dame amongst the rest had these wordes: As your pacient bearing of troubles, your honest behauiour among vs your neighbours, your tender and pitifull harte to the poore of the parish, doth moue vs to lament your case, so the vnsatiable carnaliti of your faithlesse husband doth instigate and styrre vs to deuyse and inuent some spedy redresse for your case and the amendment of his lyfe. Wherfore this is my counceld and you wil be aduertised hyme I say to you all, vnlesse it be this good wyfe, who is chefely touched in this matter I haue the next cause, for hée was in hande with me not longe agoe, and company had not ben present whiche was by a maruelous chaunce, he had (I thinke) forced me. For often he hadde ben tempting with me, and yet haue I sharpely sayd him nay, ther­fore let vs assemble secretly into the place where hée hath appointed to méete this gyllot that is at your house and lyrke pryuely in some corner tyll he begin to goe about his busines. And then me thought I hard you say euen now, that you had a watch word, at which word we will all stepp forth beinge fiue of vs besides you, for you shalbe none because it is your husband, but get you to bed at your accusto­med houre, and we will carry eche of vs a good byrchen rod in oure laps, and we will all be muffeled for knowing, and sée that you goe home and acquaint that walking mort with the matter forwe must haue her helpe to hold, for always foure must hold and two lay on. Alas saith this good wyfe, be is to strong for you al, I would be loth for my sake you should receiue harme at his hande: feare you not q these stout wemen, let her not giue the watch word vntill his hosen be about his legges, and I trow we all wilbe with him to bring be­fore he shall haue leasuce to plucke them vp agayne: they with one voyce agréed to y ^t mattēr that y ^e way she had deuised was the best: so this good wife repaired home: but before she departed frō hir gosseps she shewed thē at what hour they shuld priuely cum in on y ^e backside & ther to tary their good hour, so by y ^e time she cam in, it was almost night and found the walking morte still sitting by the fier & decla­red to her al this new deuise aboue said, which promised faithfullye to fulfill to her small power as much as they had deuised, within a quarter of an houre after, in cōmeth y ^e good man who said y ^t hee was about his cartell, why what haue we here wife sitting by the fire, & [Page] if she haue eate and dronk send her into the barne to hir lodging for this night, for she troubleth the house: euen as you will husbande, saith his wife, you know she commeth once in two yeres into these quarters. Away sayth this good wyfe in your lodginge: yes good dame saith she as fast as I can, thus by loking one on the other eche knew others mynd, and so departed to her comely couche, the good man of the house shrodge him for ioy, thinkinge to him selfe I will make som pastime with you an one. And calling to his wyfe for his supper set him downe and was very pleasant & dranke to his wife & fel to his mammerings and moūched a pace, nothing vnderstāding of the banquet that was a preparing for him after supper, & accordīg to the prouerbe (that swéet meat will haue sowre sauce,) [...] thus when he was well refreshed, his spirites being reuiued entred into fami­liar talk with his wyfe, of many matters how well he had spent that day to both their profytes, saying some of his cattell were lyke to haue bin drowned in the diches, dryuing others of his neighboures cattel out that were in his pasturs, & mending his fences that were broken down. Thus profitably he had consumed the daye, nothinge talking of his helping out of the walking mort out of the mier, nei­ther of his request nor yit of hir promise. Thus feding hir w ^t frendly fantasies consumed two houres and more. Then fayning howe hes would sée in what case his horse were in and how they were dressed, repaired couertly into the barne whereas his friendly foes lyrked priuely vnlesse it were this manerly Morte, that comly couched on a bottell of straw. What are you come q she, by y ^e masse I would not for a hundreth pound that my dame should know that you wer here either any els of your house. No I warrant thée saith this good man, they be all safe and fast inough at their work, and I will be at myne anon And lay downe by her and straight would haue had to do with her, nay fye saith she, I like not this order, if ye lye with me you shal surely vntxusse you & put down your hosen for that way is most ea­siest and best, saiest thou so quoth he, now my troth agréed: and whē he had vntrussed himself and put down, he began to assalt the vnsa­tiable sort, why quoth she that was without shame, sauinge for her promes, and are you not ashamed? neuer a whyt sayth he, lye downe quickely, nowe fye for shame, fye sayth shée aloude (which was the watch word) At the which word these fyue furious sturdy muffeled gossips flynges out and takes sure holde of this betrayed person, sone plucking his hosen down lower, and bindinge the same fast a­bout his féete, then binding his handes and knittinge a hande char­ [...]her [Page] about his eyes, that hée should not sée, and when they had made him sure and fast, then they layd him on vntill they were windles: be good saith this Morte vnto my mayster for the passion of God, & layd on as fast as the rest, and still ceased not to crye vpon them too be mercyfull vnto him, and yet layd on a pace, and when they hadde well beaten him that the bloud braste plentifully out in most places they let him lye still bounde, with this exhortation, that he shoulde from that tyme foorth knowe his wyfe from other mens, and that this punishment was but a flebyting in respect of that which should follow, if he amended not his manners. Thus leauing him bluste­ring, blowing and foming for payne and malencolye, that hée ney­ther might or could be reuenged of them: they vanished awaye and had this morte with them, a [...]d safely conuayd her out of the towne: soone after commeth into the barne one of the good mans boyes to set some haye for his horse. And fynding his maister lying fast boūd and gr [...]euously beaten with roddes, was sodainly abashed and wold haue runne out agayne to haue called for helpe, but his maister hyd him come vnto him and vnbinde him, and make no woordes quoth he of this. I wilbe reuenged well ynough, yet notwithstandinge af­ter better aduyse, the matter being vnhonest, he thought it méeter to let the same passe, and not as the prouerbe sayth (to awake the sléeping dogge.) And by my troth quoth this walking morte, I com now from that place and w is neuer there sythens this parte was playd, which is somewhat more then a yeare. And I heare a verye good report of him now, that he loueth his l [...]yfe well and vseth hym selfe very honestly: and was not this a good acte, now how say you? It was pretely handeled quoth I, and is here all? yea quoth shee, here is the end.

A Doxe. Cap. 20.

THese Dores be broken & spoyled of their maydenhead by the vp­right men, and then they haue their name of dores and not af [...]re. And afterward she is common and indifferent for any that will vse her, as homo [...] is a commō name to al men. Such as be fayre and som­what handsome, kepe company with the walking Mortes, and are redy always for the vpright men, and are chiefly maynteined by them, for others shalbe spoiled for their sakes, the other interior sort will resorte to noble mens places, and gentlemens houses standing at the gate, eyther lurking on the backsyde about backe houses, ey­ther in hedge rowes or some other thycket, expectynge their praye, [Page] which is for the vncomly company of some courteous gest of whom they be refreshed with meate and some money, where eschaunge is made ware for ware: this bread and meate they vse to carye in their great hosen, so that these beastly brybinge bréeches, serue many ty­mes for bandy purposes. I chaunced not long sitbens familiarly to common with a Dore that came to my gate, and surely a pleasaunt harlot, and not so pleasant as witty, and not so witty as boyde of all grace and goodnes I found by her talk that she had passed her tyme lewdly eightene yeares in walking about. I thought this a necessa­ry instrument to attayne some knowledge by, and before I woulde grope hir mind, I made her both to eate and drynk well, that done I made her faithfull promise to gyue her some money if she woulde open and discouer to me such questions as I would demaund of hir and neuer to bewraye hir, neyther to disclose her name. And you should sayth shee I were vndone: feare not that quoth I. but I pray thée quoth I, say nothing but truth. I will not sayth shee, then firsts tell me quoth I, how many vpright men and roges dost thou know or hast thou knowne and bene [...]dnuersant with, and what their na­mes be? she paused a while and sayd, why do you aske me, or where­fore? For nothing els as I sayd, but that I would knowe them whē they come to my gate. Now by my troth (quoth she) then are yes ne­uer the nearer, for al myne acquaintance for the most part are dead, Dead quoth I? how dyed they for want of cherishing or of paynfull diseases? Then she sighed and sayde they were hanged. What all quoth I, and so many walke abroad as I dayly sée? By my trouth quoth she I know not paste six or seuen by their names, and named the same to mee. When were they hanged quoth I? Some seuen yeares agone, some three yeares, and some with in this fortnight, and declared the place where they weare erecuted, which I knewe well to be true, by report of others. Why (quoth I) dyd not this sorrowfull and fearefull sight much gréeue thee, and for thy tyme long and euill spent. I was sory quoth shee, by the masse, for some of them were good louing men, for I lacke not when they had it, and they wanted not when I had it, and diuers of them I neuer did for­sake, vntill the Gallowes departed vs. O mercyfull God quoth I, and began to blesse me. Why blesse ye quoth she? Alas good gent­tleman, euery one must haue a liuing. Other matters I talked of, but this now may suffice to shewe the reader as it were in a glasse the bolde beastely lyfe of these Doxes. For suche as hath gonne a­ny tyme abroade, will neuer forsake their trade, to dye therefore. [Page] I haue hadde good profe thereof. There is one notorious barlot o [...] this affinitie called Besse Bottomely, shee hath but one hande, and she hath murthered two children at the least.

A Dell. Cap. 21.

A Dell is a yonge wench, able for generation, and not yet known or broken by the upright man. These goe abroade yonge, ey­ther by the death of their parentes, and no body to looke vnto them or else by some sharpe mystres that they serue do runne awaye out of seruice, eyther she is naturally borne one, and then she is a wyld Dell: these are broken very yonge, when they haue ben lyen with­all by the vpright man, then they bee Dores, and no Dell. These wylde Dels being traded vp with their monstrous mothers, musts of necessitie be as euil or worse then their parentes, for neyther we gather grapes from greene bryars, neyther fygges from I h [...]stels. But such buds, such blossems, such euil seede sowen, wel worsse be­ing growen.

A Kynching Morte. Cap. 22.

A Kynching Mort is a little Gyrle, the Mortes their mothers car­ries them at their backes in their slates, whiche is their shetes, and bringes them vp sauagely, till they growe to be rype, and soone rype, soone rotten.

A Kynchen Co. Cap. 23.

A Kinchen Co, is a young boye traded vp to suche p [...]euish purpo­ses, as you haue hard of other young ympes before, that when be groweth vnto yeares, he is better to hang then to draw foorth.

Their vsage in the night. Cap. 24.

NOw, I think it not vnnecessary to make the Reader vnderstand how and in what maner they lodge a nights in barnes or back-houses, and of their vsage there, for asmuch as I haue acquaynted them with their order and practises a day tymes. The arch and chief walkers that hath walked a long tyme, whose experience is great, because of their continuing practise, I meane all Mortes & Doxes, [Page] for their handsomnes & diligence, for making of their couches. The men neuer trouble themselues with that thing, but takes the same to be the duty of the wyfe. And she shuffels vp a quantitie of strawe or hay, into some prety corner of the barne where she may conueni­ently lye, and well shaketh the same, making the heade some what bye, and dryues the same vpon the sydes and set lyke a bed: then she layeth her wallet or other little pack of ragges, or scryppe vnder hir head in the strawe, to beare vp the same, and layeth her peticote or cloke vpon and ouer the strawe, so made lyke a bedde and that ser­ueth for the blanket: then she layeth her slate which is her shéete vp­pon that, and shée haue no shéete, as fewe of them go without, then she spreddeth some large cloutes or rags ouer the same, and maketh hir ready and layeth her drousely downe. Many will plucke of their smockes and lay the same vpon them in stéede of their vpper shéete, and all her other pelte and trashe vpon her also, and many lyeth in their smockes. And if the rest of her clothes in cold weather bee not sufficient to kéepe her warme, then the taketh strawe or hay to per­forme the matter. The other sorte that haue no slates, but toumble down and couche a hogshead in their clothes, these be still lou [...]y and shall neuer be without vermin, vnlesse they put of their clothes, and lye as is aboue said. If the vpright man come in where they lye, hee hath his choyse, and créepeth in close by his Dore, the roge hath his leauings. If the Mortes or Dores lye or be lodged in some Farmers barne, and the dore be eyther locked or made fast to them, then will not the vpright man presse to come in, vnles it be in barnes and out houses standing alone, or some distance from houses, which [...]e com­monly knowne to them: as sainct Quintens, thrée Cranes in the [...]intrey. Sainct Tybbes, & Knapsbery. These foure be within one myle compasse neare vnto London. Then haue you foure more in Middlesex, draw the pudding out of the fyre, in Harrow on the hill parish, the Crosse keyes in Crayford parish, saynt In [...]ans in Thy­stell worth parish, the house of pity in North hall parishe. These are their chief houses neare about London, where commonlye they re­sort vnto for lodging, and may repayre thyther fréely at all tymes. Sometime shall come in some roge, some pycking knaue, a nimble Prygge, he walketh in softly a nightes, when they be at their reste & plucketh of as many garmentes as be ought worth, that hee maye come by, and worth money, and may easely cary the same, and run­neth away with the same with great selerity, and maketh port sale at some conuenient place of theirs, that some be soone ready in the [Page] morning, for wante of their Casters and Togemans. Where in stede of blessing is cursinge, in place of praying, pestilent pratinge with odious othes and terrible threatnings. The vpright men haue giuen all these nycke names, to the places aboue sayd. Yet haue we two notable places in Kent, not farre from London, the one is bet­twene Detforde and Rothered called the Kinges barne, standinge alone, that they haunt commonly: the other is Ketbroke standinge by blacke heath [...]alse a myle from any house, there will they boldly draw the latch of the doore and go in, when the good man with hys family be at supper and sit downe without leaue and eate and d [...]ink with them, and either lye in the hall by the fyer at night or in y ^• barn if there be no roome in the house for them. If the doore be eyther bol­ted or lockt, if it be not opened vnto them when they will, they will breake the same open to his farther cost. And in this barne sometime do lye xl. vp [...]ight men with their Dores togither at one time. And this muste the poore Farmer suffer, or els they threaten him too burne him, and all that he hath.