I MVSE who this is that commeth thus spéedily, if he knew how vaine his comming hither were, he woulde not make such spéede in a spéedlesse errande. But let me aduise my selfe, vnlesse my senses deceiue me & my sight doth faile me, it is Siuqila that dwels in that fa­mous Iland Ailgna, to whom I reuea­led of late the meruailous maners, customes, and orders of this our countrey of Mauqsun. Truely, the more nearer he appro­cheth, the more like him he is: surely, I am out of all doubt that it is he, whom, for his prompt wit, for his learned talke, and for his godly zeale, I so fauour and estéeme, that I will not onely tary for his comming, but also will satisfie his desire in what I am able, whereas if it were not he, I would flie from him as spéedilie, as he commeth hither hastilie. My friend Siuqila of all other most welcome, what wynde hath thus sodainely blowne you hither agayne?

Forsooth, as the wynde of naturall necessitie (which is hunger and sléepe) of force droue me from you sooner then I wished, so the wynde of affection to heare more of your commē ­dable customes, hath blown me hither not so soone as I would.

Well Siuqila, though you could not come hither so soone as you would, yet you are most hartily welcome as soone as you come. But I pray you how did you for vitailes whē you went from me in the desertes? thinking that hunger made you more desirous of meate, then sléepe of a fetherbed.

You may be right sure of that, for if hunger could [Page] finde out foode so soone, as sléepe can prepare a bed, poore wande­rers and trauellers should not sléepe so ofte supperlesse. But I may say (through the great goodnes of God) that I had my sup­per as well without cark, as I had my bed to sléepe on without care.

The faithful man can neuer want foode, nor the god­lie traueller can neuer lacke lodging, if God be as strong as e­uer he was, as rich as euer he was, and as fauourable to the faithfull as euer he was (as he is in déede): then who will not firmly beléeue, but that he wil prouide you your supper, as wel as he prepared for Daniel his dinner? But I beséeche you tell me (for it was very late when you departed from me) by what good fortune gotte you your supper so spéedily? for in that Wil­dernesse where you went, there dwels none but wylde Beasts, at whose hands you had but small entertainement, (I thinke) who would rather deuoure you than féede you.

That is very like, but my fayth is so firme, that God my heauenlie father doeth loue mée, and all other his obedient children so dearely, that rather than we should perish for want of foode, he wil make these wylde and cruel Beasts, to bring vs our suppers, that vse to deuoure and eate the wycked for their suppers. For as the Beares did deuoure the wicked children that mocked the godlie Eliseus: euē so the Rauens did feede the godlie Elias.

Surely Siuqila, I must néedes affirme this, that ra­ther than you and the godly shoulde lacke foode, GOD would sende you meate from heauen, and drinke out of the harde roc­kes or stones. For if he did so to the wicked Iews, that didde murmure and dysobey him: howe much more will he doe so to you, that are paciente, godlie, and doe obey him? But nowe forgette not to tel me, of your good lucke in getting your supper in the Wildernesse so happilie.

Nay rather by Gods good prouidence so mercifullie: truely it is a very vaine thing, and farre vnméete to be vsed a­mong Christians, An vnmeete thing for Chri­stians. to applie that to Fortune which the Heathen tooke for a blinde God, which onely is to bée attributed to the [Page] liuing and eternall GOD, the maker of Heauen and Earth. Theramines did attribute his woonderful escaping from death, when all his couuiuants were killed with the fal of the house, where they were with him, but onely himselfe, who though he shoulde haue thanked God for miraculously sauing of his lyfe, he applied it to blinde Fortune, which neither didde nor coulde saue his lyfe, The foolishe saying of The­ramines. crying out aloude on this manner: O Fortuna cui occasioni me seruas? O Fortune for what purpose doest thou keepe mee alyue? Such was his blindenesse that serued such a blinde God: for though his woonderful and miraculous esca­ping from death, contrarie to all hope and expectation, shoulde haue dryuen him to the knowledge of God, and to the amend­mente of his wicked and tyrannicall lyfe: he like a brute beast had no suche consideration, but therevpon tooke an occasion to thinke that his blynd God Fortune had preserued him to work some greater wickednesse, crueltie and tyrannie than he hadde done before. These are the Berries that such Brambles doe beare, and this is the goodnesse that cōmes from such Goddes. But séeing you are desirous to knowe howe I did for meate in the wilde Wildernesse, I will shewe you. You knowe that when I went from you it was almoste supper time, especially for him that had not then dyned: but as soone as I was depar­ted from you, I was so troubled with two sodaine suters, that their balling and calling on me didde no lesse wearie mée, than my painefull and fast trauelling in the Wildernesse didde tyre mée.

I maruell that you shoulde be troubled with suters in the Wildernesse, for you may goe twentie dayes there still forwarde, before you shall sée eyther man, woman, or chylde. But if you had anye such suters, rather than they should haue troubled mée, I woulde haue dyspatched them and sente them packing.

Yea, but what if you could not graunt them their re­quests?

Then I wold haue sent them away without, euen as they came. Me thinks they were vnshamefast suters that wold [Page] not be answered with reason.

Truly, they were so importunate, that they would haue no nay.

But tell me one thing: Were their requestes such, that you were able to graunt?

The one of them I could haue graunted very easi­lie, but the other very hardly.

Then would I haue satisfied him with the easier suite presently, and the other when I might at laisure and at tyme conuenient.

I but the graunting of the one would haue bene a hinderance to the other.

Would it so? then I would haue desired them to depart gently, if not, I would haue made them go away by ex­tremitie.

Truly, they were such strong and importunate su­ters, that neither gentlenesse could entreate them, reason per­swade them, nor force could feare them: and to say truth, they did so hold me and gripe me, that with all the strength I had, I was not able to fling them from me.

They were very strange suters, I thinke very long vntill I heare who they were.

Seyng you are so desirous, you shall knowe. For­sooth, the one of these suters was myne Eyes, the other was my Stomacke.

Are these the Suters you ment off? you are a plea­saunt man, They are such Suters in déede that must not be de­nied, and to say truth, whom you are loth to deny.

If I deny thē, it is bicause I am not able to graunt them, they cannot so soone demaund, but I am as willing to performe, especially if it lie in my power.

I beléeue you right well. If Princes, Rulers, Iud­ges and other (that are able) were as desirous to graunt poore Suters their néedfull and reasonable requests, as you are wil­ling (yea when you are scant able) to performe these your Su­ters demaunds, then many poore Suters should not sue so long [Page] in vaine as they do, nor yet go home without peny or purpose. But I pray you what did these your importunate Suters de­sire of you?

Forsooth mine eyes desired me to go to bed, and my stomacke earnestly required me to go to supper.

The tyme and place considered, I thinke you were more able to performe the request of your Eyes, then to graunt the request of your Stomacke.

Be bold of that, yet eche of them did plead their case so reasonably, and defended the cause so cunningly, that I could not well tell to whome I might encline. Mine Eyes requested me moste earnestly to laye me downe to sléepe, saying, though you haue no trim chamber to lye in, be content with the ground which your first father Adam was contēt to take for his couch: And though here be no house nor roofe to defend you from cold, yet the Aire is here so temperate, that you can féele no cold: and yet your lodging is not without a trimme & goodly roofe, A sure roofe. which is the heauens of Gods owne making, which you are sure will not fall downe and hurt you, though the roofes made by men might fall downe and kill you. And as for a fether bed care not, for here is grasse and mosse wheron in this your necessitie, you wil sléepe as soundly, A preaty plea­ding. as though you had the best bed in y ^e world. And then my Stomacke said: Sir, I beseech you consider, as it is méete to graunt sléepe to your Eyes, so it is more méete to al­low meate for your Stomacke, which of vs two you may best spare, let him be last serued. You may liue if you had no Eyes, but you must néedes perish if you had no Stomacke: & you may well liue though you haue Eyes and sée not, but you must néeds die though you haue a Stomacke and féede not. And as your Eyes perswadeth you to be content with the grasse and mosse for your bedde, so in this great necessitie it is very simple foode that will not satisfie me, and be pleasaunt vnto you. Then the Eyes replied agayn: My liddes are so heauy that I cannot kéep them open, and you sée it beginneth to be darke, whereby I can stand you in small steade, for if I were as willing to wake, as I am desirous to winke, you should be sure to wander wrong: [Page] therfore you were better here to sléepe quietly, then to wander you wot not whether daungerously, marry if you were as sure to gette some foode for your Stomacke, by trauelling in the dark, as you are sure to gette a swéete nap, by lying here in the darke, I woulde not so earnestly perswade you. Then my sto­macke aunswered: Sir, wey not these wordes, if you graunte them sléepe, then I shal lacke my Supper, and be a great while without meate: but if I haue my supper, your eyes shal not be long without sléepe, naye thereby they shall be sure to haue the more sléepe. Then sayde the Eyes verye vehemently, the hu­myditie of your braine is so muche, that vnlesse it be exhausted by sléepe, I shal neuer be able to holde them open to directe you in your way. Then sayde the Stomacke, credite not your eyes herein, for I haue ben so long empty, that the brayne can haue no suche humiditie, for the fume that ascendes from the Sto­macke, doeth make the braine moyste, now if the Stomacke want foode, wherof the fume doth grow, then how can there be anye suche fume, to bréede suche moysture of the brayne, and so your braine hath no such aboundance of moysture, as your Eyes do allege, therfore I youre Stomacke haue muche more néede of meate, than your eyes of sléepe, naye rather take héede of too much sléepe, for by sléeping the heate is thereby broughte from all the externall partes, to the internal parts, whereby the heate being maruellously encreased, wil quicklye consume the little moysture within you, and so the radical moysture will be in daunger to be extinct, and then farewel life: and thus if you graunte sléepe to your Eyes, you maye happe to bring deathe to your self. Then the Eyes sayd, I praye you regarde not hys wordes, they are but fables, manye woulde faine sléepe if they might, but you will not sléepe when you maye, remember I beseeche you, that many haue runne madde for wante of sléepe: then my Stomacke aunswered again quickly, but a great sort [...] haue dyed for want of foode. Then my Eyes said to me ve­rie mourninglye, if euer you will haue me to guide you, then graunte me some sléepe: and then the Stomacke most doleful­ly sayde, if euer you will haue me to féede and nourish your bo­die, [Page] get me some meate. Then my Eyes said, of conscience it is nowe time to sléepe, for it is almoste midnighte: then my Sto­macke aunswered, midnighte is not to late for him to Suippe, that hath neither eate nor drunke of thrée or foure dayes. And thus I was so troubled with these two earnest suters, that I coulde not well tell to whom it was beste to yéelde, but weying with my selfe the greate daunger I was in, for want of foode, I fully consented to my Stomacke: and thoughe it was verye darke, whereby my eyes coulde doe me no greate pleasure, yet God did presentlie helpe me, to whom I praied to succour me, for immediatelie my foote did happen into a hoale, wherein I founde yong Rabbets, whiche I prepared as wel as I could, and so I played the Cooke, and roasted them for my Sup­per.

But I pray you, how did you for fire to rost thē with­all?

Truely fire was more easie to get than meate, and drinke was more easie to gette than fire: but breade to eate my Supper withal, was the hardest to come by of all: for it was impossible to haue anye in the Wildernesse, vnlesse GOD hadde sente it from heauen, as he rayned Manna for the chil­dren of Israel. So that I was faine to eate my Supper with­out breade, and yet I thought, I neuer fared better in all my life.

Yea but if you had had breade, you woulde not haue liked your chéere the worse.

No that is true, but I had suche a pleasaunt sauce to my Supper, that I neuer tarryed for breade, nor yet scantlie remembred it.

Was your sauce so dainetie and pleasaunt?

Nay it was more pleasant than daintie, for I seldom eate any meate without that sauce, especially since I came out of my owne Countrey.

Maye I bée so bolde to learne of you what sauce it was?

Forsoothe the name of the sauce, is called hunger, a great deale better than Uinegar, whiche made euery byt of my breadlesse supper more pleasant vnto me, then the most costlye and delicate bankets, with all their sumptuous sauces, are to a­ny Prince on the earth.

Marrie sir, Hunger is the best sauce of all other. that is the most pleasaunte sauce of all o­ther, it is the most delicate sauce for meate, and easyest to gette, and of most vertue, and of least cost, none in our Countrey of Mauqsun on paine of death may vse anye other kinde of sauce but that: if they in your Countrey woulde giue ouer all sauces, and vse that sauce onely, their bodyes woulde not be so ful of deseases, Marke this. nor their purses so empty of mony, but how dyd you for drinke to your meate?

For wante of wine I was gladde to drinke water, wherof I had plentie, for there was a goodlye riuer did runne, not far from the place where I supt. Truly sir since my depar­ting from you, God so wonderfully and sodainely ayded me in my necessitie by his creatures, that therby I was not only en­forst to prayse God therefore, but also to muse and studie of his miraculous works: wherby in few words I haue couertly cou­ched thrée maruellous misteries, that few I think is able to re­solue, yet so true and so playne, that if I shoulde reueale the meaning thereof, that none but woulde affyrme the same.

Then you néede not feare to vtter the words wherin is hyd your mystical meaning, yet thogh they be neuer so dark, I beléeue I shal gesse shrewdely at them.

Nay I am sure you wil quickly fynd out there mea­ning, which if you coulde not, I would reueale them vnto you.

Declare them I praye you, for I am desirous to heare them.

I wyll vtter them in course as I hadde occasion to frame them, therefore the first of them is this.

Surely, this is both couertly hid, wisely inuented, & wittily framed, if euery one that haue an ouer wéening in their owne wittes, and discommendeth other that are wiser than themselues, that cannot resolue this, or that cannot inuent the like, shoulde giue but the halfe of that they spende in waste, to the reléeuing or succoring of their pore neighbors, many wold not be so hungry nor so néedie as they are. I vnderstand youre meaning therein very well, it is maruellous, and I may saye myraculous, though dayly sight and common practise taketh a­way the admiration thereof. But what droue you to deuise it?

Forsooth I wil tel you, as I trauelled in the wilde wildernesse, being very hungry, through the goodnesse of God, I founde a fewe egges, but what egges they were, I knowe not (yet they were very like the egs of a Turkey Hen) which, when I had founde, I was very desirous to roste, or to séethe for my dinner, whych there by no meanes I coulde do, for there was neither wood, nor any other thing wheron to make a fire. And thoughe I was extreame hungry, yet I was very loth to eate them rawe: but as I walked forwarde, thoroughe Gods prouidence, I spyed a little shedde, wherein I founde quick [...] lime vnquenched, whereof I was not a little glad, for therein I knewe that I might roste my egges (hauing water) of which lime stones I tooke a good quantitie, and caryed them to a wa­ters side that was not far from thence, which stones I sprinck­led with water, and then they waxed very hot, as daily practise doth proue: amongst whych lime stones I laid my egges, whi­che were well rosted, and that very quickly, throughe the great heate of the saide limestones, whych the water that I sprinck­led on them caused them to haue: and thus by this maruellous means, I rosted y ^e egs, wherwith I dined very wel. Thus you may plainely perceiue, y ^t the foe did aide and helpe hys extreme foe, for Water is an vtter enimie to Fire, for they are of clean contrarie qualities: for Fyre is hote and drie, and Water is colde and moiste, yet Fire could not shew his force or strength whyche lay hid in the saide lime stones, vntill Water, whiche was his enemie, was cast vpō him, yet thogh therby he shewed [Page] forth his heat, which is the qualitie of fire: yet the brightnesse, shape, or forme of fire, by no meanes therby could be séen.

It is most true, which is the wonderfull worke of God, yet many thousands are so brutish, so senslesse, so doltishe, and so thankles for these Gods miraculous benefits; euē made for their daylie vse and commoditie, that they neyther consider the great power of God that didde make them, the maruellous mysteries hyd in them, nor the great cōmoditie they haue daily by them. You that haue this cōsideration in the works of God, it is a token you haue a great consolation in God himselfe that made the workes. Your first Probleme is so prettie and pithie, that I desire to heare the second.

You shall, and that with spéede, this it is, whiche is more true than reasonable.

Truly this is very strange, and séemes so repugnant to reason, that many that are both wise and learned, will iudge at the first hearing of the words, that it cannot be truly applied to any thing. But by what occasion did you frame it?

As I trauelled in the desarts, I could find no perfect way, where the thorne [...] & brambles were so thicke, that I was enforced very painfully to go through them, which did so rent & tear [...] my clothes, that I was constrained to sowe them as wel as I could (for I seldom go without needle & [...]hreed) and whyles I was busie in sowing the same I sodenly loste my needle, for which I was very sory (for I had [...]o mo, but only a broken née­dle that lacked a point, wherwith I could not sowe at al) so that I left my thréed in the same place, & went to séek a stone wher­on to sharp my blunt néedle: and as I was very diligent in sée­king a stone for my purpose, I found a very hard & heauy stone, not of the colour of other cōmon stones, which I toke, and then went and sit in the same place wh [...]re I losse my néedle: then I began to rub and whet my broken néedle vpon it, but for all my labor I could not therwith so sharpen it, that it would do [...]e a­ny good. So that I layd [...] the sayd néedle and stone by me on the [Page] grounde, being wéerie with rubbing the sayde blunt or broken néedle on the same. Yet being driuen to a great necessitie, and thinking at length with labour so to sharpen the sayde broken néedle on the stone that I found, that it might serue my turne: I tooke vp the sayde stone, wheron (to my great maruel) not on­ly the broken néedle, but also the néedle which before I had lost, did hang, cleaue, or stick, which whē I saw, I knew that stone was an Adamant stone, wherby I did as well giue God than­kes for his great goodnesse in sending me such a meane to finde my néedful néedle: as also did find out and inuent the sayd dark and true Probleme thereof.

As before you reueled your practise & euent, it séemed very darke and false, so nowe since it is very plaine and true. For though by the strength of yron the Adamant stone may be broken, wherby he iustly may be called the stronger, and the A­damant the weaker: yet the Adamant stone (being the weaker) by his nature draweth yron the stronger vnto him, as daily ex­perience doth teach. Now I pray you let me heare the thirde.

You shall, which if you marke well, is as straunge, and true as the rest.

If it be as true as it is strange, then is it well wor­thie to be noted. If euery one of your countrey that of them sel­ues can not find out the true meaning of it in a moneth, should faste but a wéeke, or else bestowe their one yeares vaine and prodigal expences, on suche godly purposes as you could deuise and appoint: then many shoulde haue their right, that nowe are much wrōged, many that want should then haue ynough, many that goe pecorkly, shoulde th [...]n goe derently, many that liue riotously, shoulde then liue moderately, and many that die shortly by surffeting, should liue long with temperate féeding. Surely it is a very strange thing that can sléepe so long and ne­uer eate, and when he is once awaked, [...] or else die. If it be not very néedefull, and also such a thing [...] [Page] can be spared, it were a greate deale better, and more profite to let hym sléepe stil, than to awake him out of his sléepe: For he muste needes be a very costly fellowe to kéepe, that must be al­wayes a feeding. If he neuer stinte eating, I thinke then hée will out eate his gaines, as many loytring lubbers that spend more with their mouthes, than they gette wyth their handes. But nowe shewe the occasion that caused you to deuise it.

I wil not lette to doe that. As I was trauelling in the wilde wildernesse (being very hungry) I sodainely espyed a neste of yong Byrdes whyche were almoste ready to flie.

But howe did you for fire to roste them, for fire is there harde to get?

Nay, as I vsed the matter, it was harder to find foode than to get fire. I neuer goe without a tinder boxe, (especially when I trauel farre,) wherein I haue a flinte stone, a stéele, & burned linte with matches: so that when I hadde dressed my Byrdes, I stroke fire out of the flint stone with my Stéele, the sparkes whereof falling into the burned linte, did take holde of the same, and then I did therein light a matche, dipped in brim­stone, whereby hauing wood there ynoughe at hande, I made a fire, and so I rosted the Byrdes, and fed my hungrye mawe therewith: and a [...]ter I had giuen God thankes for thus féeding me, I fel into a greate admiration of thys maruelous worke of God, and considered how strange a thing it was, that Fyre the most hottest Element of al other, should be included in erth being a colde Element. And further, in this déepe cogitation I considered, A thing to bee considered. that God had as greate a respect to the pore as to the rich, for Fire is such a thing, that no man aliue may want: and God of his infinite goodnesse hathe so ordered the matter, that the riche can not defraude the pore of fyre (that are at li­bertie) for in euery little flinte stone, it is to be founde, yea and there is ynough in one little stone, for a whole Realm, which is a wonderful simile in the déepest Philosophie that is.

This is such a wonderful worke of God, and so ne­cessarie for all men, that thousands, that dayly sée the same, and haue dayly a maruellous commoditie thereby, do neyther thāk [Page] God therfore, nor once consider gods miraculous worke there­in. And as God hath delt with the poore for fire, so he hath done with all the other thrée Elements, Ma [...]ke wel. for the rich cannot defraude the poore of them, nor the enuious person cannot take them frō his foe, as long as they be at libertie, for they are euery where to be had: well may the riche locke the poore from them, but they cannot locke them from the poore: for as fire is common e­uery where, and is to be founde in euery flinte stone: so the aire which is the next Element to fire, is in euery place, and is cō ­mon both to man and beast. And the water is so aboūdant both in Riuers and Springs euery where, that y ^e rich cannot waste it, the poore cannot consume it, nor all the beastes on the earth can deuour it. And as for the earth it is the onely floure for all men and beastes to treade on, so that in this pointe (thoughe it be little regarded) God is not only highly to be thanked, but al­so to be maruellously magnified, that he hath so louinglye and mercifully placed and distributed these his Elements, whiche is, fire, ayre, water, and earth, (without which we cannot liue) that the mightiest Emperour on the Earth, nor the cruelst ty­rant vnder the sun, cannot kéepe, nor locke any one of thē from the poorest wretch in the world, wel they may locke him from them as is saide, but they cannot lock them from him.

Oh if we would consider these gods great giftes that he most liberally hath bestowed on y ^e poore, A maruellous immediating alliance. aswel as on y ^e rich, we shold loue him better thā we do: but marke what a maruel­lous knitting or cōbynatiō, yea & immediating alliāce, one ele­ment hath with another in qualitie: fire is hotte and dry: he is hot of the nature of the ayre which is vnder him, and dry, of the nature of the earth, which is the extreamest from him: Ayre is hot and moyst, hote of the qualitie of fire nexte aboue him, and moyste of the qualitie of water next vnder him: water is cold & moyst, moyst of y ^e nature of aire next aboue him, & colde of y ^e na­ture of erth, which is next vnder him: & erth is colde & dry, cold of y ^e nature of water y ^t is next aboue him, & dry of the nature of fire, which is next in order to him: And herein is gret misteries to be considered according to philosophy.

God is maruellous, as well in these as in al other his workes, in numero, pondere, & mensura omnia fecit deus: nowe I sée by the stricking of the fire out of the flinte stone, you framed finelie this pithie probleme.

In déede it is manifest that there is fire, and that great store, in euery flint stone, which wil lye lurking ther, longer thā you speake of, and neuer die for want of foode: but if you once awake him out of his sléepe, & fetch him out of his bedde, you must giue him meate immediately, & so you must féede him continuallye night & day, either with tallow, waxe, woodde, coles, strawe, or some other thing y ^t he cā eate, or else he wil die by & by, for fare­wel fire when his foode doth faile. This is so plain and so true, y ^t none y ^t liues on the erth, y ^t haue any discreation, but knowes it. Before you reuealed the cause whervpō you deuised it, it sée­med very dark & a thing impossible, but now it is very plain, & as a thing most palpable: if euery one in their iorneis at theyr meate & beds, hadde such cogitations & considerations of Gods goodnes, & benefits offred before their eyes, as you haue in your iourneis, at your meate or your bed: so many driftes wold not be deuised, to defraud y ^e widow & fatherles, nor such shifts wold not be inuented, to shoue the poore from their righte. Truely I am of this iudgement, y ^t you cā sée nothing on the erth, but y ^t you may gather therby, to praise god, to magnify god, & to loue god. But now Siuqila me thoght you said, euē now since you came, that the cause of this your now comming hither, was to heare more of the customes of this our Countrey of Mauqsun.

I said so indéed, & y ^t is only y ^e cause of my returning so soone.

Yea but did you not say to me, whē you departed hence, y ^t you were fully satisfied, & that you had no more to aske me.

I remēber I said so, & to saye trueth, long talk did so tyer me, hunger did so assaile me, sléepe did so oppresse me, & my memorie did so faile me, y ^t I could tarrie no longer, and if I had tarried, I could not deuise what more to say to you: but since I [...] my stomack with meate, & my eyes with sléepe, me thinks [Page] I am as redie to enquire of the manners of your people, & the orders of your country, as euer I was, my hed is fraught so ful of new questiōs, y ^t I fear I shal wearie you before I haue half done, beseeching you this once to satisfie me, for I will neuer trouble you hereafter, which I could not wel do if I wold, for if I were now at home, I shold neuer be able to go so far againe.

Wel Siuqila for the good wil I bear you, I wil satis­fie your mind in any thing you demand of me, therfore be bold to aske what you wil, for I wil resolue you in all that I maye.

Then if I may be so bold to aske you, haue your tē ­poral Gentlemen any spiritual liuings?

No truly, The gentlemen in Mauosun haue no spiri­tual liuings. neither our spiritual men haue any tēporal liuings: our gentlemen & al other of y ^e temporaltie are so godly minded, y ^t they would not if they might, haue any spiritual li­uing in their hands: nay they had rather increase y ^e Precher or Parsons liuing, if y ^e Prechers or Parsōs haue to litle for their godly & necessarie maintenāce (as w ^t vs daily practise proueth) for in litle & smal parishes, where y ^e incūbents liuing is so smal y ^t he is not able to reléeue his poore neighbors: y ^e gētlemē, or the richest of y ^e parish, wil giue for euer to remaine to y ^e said liuing vj. or x. acres of groūd, & some wil giue a litle close or a pasture, some an acre or two of meadow to y ^e enlarging of their saide li­uing, other wil giue yerely some corne, others a loade or two of wood, & so some wil giue one thing some another, acording to their abilitie: for they thinke it is a smal matter to giue tēporal things to thē, y ^t bestowes spiritual gifts on thē, according to y ^e meaning of S. Paul So y ^t the least spiritual liuing w ^t vs, is both sufficient to maintaine the Parson, and to relieue the poore.

They did so with vs in y ^e time of blindnes, but they rather pluck from thē, now in y ^e time of light & knowlege. I sée wel there is a great difference, betwéen y ^e vse of our countrey & yours, for many gentlemē & other w ^t vs, haue such broade con­sciēces, y ^t they wold if they might, haue y ^e whole or principal cō ­modity of xx. benefices, not caring (but for shame of the world) whether there wer any pastor or curat to teach y ^e people or not.

Me thinks there should be none such with you.

Nay you may say there ought to bée none such with vs, but I am most sure y ^t there are many gentlemen and other with vs, y ^t the chiefe liuing they haue is by tythes & other spi­ritual cōmodities.

Why are they suffred so to do?

Our laws do permit now many of thē therin: for it is most cōmonly now of such spiritual liuings & parsonages as were belonging to Abbeys before they were supprest, whereof the Abbots or Priours had before (not of a godly consideration but of a couetous & gréedy desire) pluckt away by force from the said spiritual liuings.

The pretious Prelates gaue a good presidente to Princes, who mighte wel thinke, that it was as lawfull for them to kepe these personages still in their handes, as these ho­lye fathers to take them out of the parsons handes. But I pray you sir, when they had spoyled the Church of the fattest of their liuing, whom did they then leaue ther to instruct y ^e people?

Forsooth some sir Lawrence Lattynles▪ sir Cutbért Careles, or sir Simon Shameles, y ^t cared more for pāpring their paunch, thē for féeding the flock, y ^t had rather be typpling at the alehouse, than to sit at his booke, & that had greater skil in play­ing at Tables, than in preaching gods worde. And these chosen Chaplēs were called Uicars, and the Abbots or Priours were called the Parsons.

It séemeth by this your talke, that the Parsons with you haue best part of the benefice, & take the least paine: & the Uicar hath the least profit, and the most trouble: wherby it appeareth that your parsons are aboue the vicars & haue the greater liuings.

It is so in déede.

If this be true, it will not fal very well out, for there séemeth a gret repugnācie herein.

Why so I pray you?

Bycause the Pope, as I doe vnderstande (who hathe bin estéemed as a Lorde on the earthe) is (as he saieth) Christes vickar, whiche being so, then Christ muste néedes be [Page] be his Parson, and therfore in the Popes Uicarage Christ ought to haue a Personage: And so, if the Popes Uica­rage be greate, large, and riche, then I doubte not but that Christes Parsonage is as great and large, and also by rea­son ought to be as riche or rather richer. Wel, what year­ly gaine, profite, and commoditie Christe hath hadde out of this his greate Personage I knowe not, but the wonder­full profites, commodities, and the yearely treasures, that the Pope hathe hadde by this Uicarage I knowe. For the greate yearely rentes for his possessions belonging to the same (though he came falsely and deceitfully by them) the maruellous Masses of money for Pardons, bothe for mur­thers, fornications, and all other offences, the great coffers of coine for helping riche mens soules out of Purgatorie, (for the pore muste lye there stil for want of money, which sheweth he is a charitable Uicar) such heapes of treasure for licencing Priestes to kéepe Concubines and Harlots, (but in no wise to marry) suche yearely reuenues called Peter-pence (thoughe Peter neuer had any such) the innu­merable summes of siluer and golde for allowing and ad­mitting of Bishops, Abbots and Priors, with many other, into spirituall liuings, whereof many were more méete to be Butchers than Byshoppes, Alecunners than Abbots, & Pedlers than Priors: And also the greate heapes of golde he hath got for restoring Emperours and Kings into their dignities againe, that he deposed for his pleasure, haue bin suche, The Popes Vi­carage passeth Christes Pars [...] ­nage. that I am sure Christe had neuer the tenth parte so muche out of his personage. And therefore it doth plain­ly [...]ppeare by this (whatsoeuer the Parsonages are wyth you) that the Popes vicarage far passeth, for dignity, welth and riches, Christes Parsonage.

Belike the Pope hathe taken the Parsonage of Christe in farme.

If he haue, yet he muste be Christes tenant, and so of force, Christe muste be his Landlorde, but who hathe euer hearde or knowne, that the Pope hathe paide Christe [Page] his landlord any rent, or once made him any accompt for a­ny of these wōderful, huge & inestimable profits & treasures that he hath thus receiued since he was his tenaunt. The Pope an euil tenaunt to Christe. Truly Christ could not haue had (in my iudgement) a worse tenāt than y ^t Pope, for y ^t he hath not paide him al this while any rent, for y ^e farming of his Parsonage. If Christ had not bin able to haue liued of himselfe: thus he woulde haue serued him. But truly I cannot thinke, that Christ hath any such Parsonage or spirituall promotiō, whervnto any such rich Uicarage should be incidēt as y ^e Pope hath: for whē Christ was here on erth, if he had thē a Parsonage, it was no such as was correspondent to the Popes Uicarage, for, if it had bin but the hundreth parte so profitable, so commodious, & so great as the Popes Uicarage, he shoulde not then haue néeded to be so pore, nor his Apostles so beggarly. But it is very wel knowen, that if Christe were then a Parson, his Parsonage was so smal, that it was not able to maintaine a Uicar, especially suche a sumptuous Uicar as the Pope is. And moreouer, if Christ had then any Parsonage, I am sure it was not at Rome: For, if he had bene a Parson, hée was so godly, so humble, so vertuous, and so desirous to féed his flocke, that I am sure he woulde haue gone to his Par­sonage and charge, and woulde haue preached among hys parishioners and flocke: and therefore bycause he wente not thither to preach among them, he was none of their Parson, neither had he any parsonage there, for he was not like many of your Parsons, that woulde haue liuings and be Nonresidents, Note this. or neuer come there. Therfore, séeing he had no Parsonage at Rome, the Uicarage that belongeth to his Parsonage cannot be at Rome, and so the Pope hauing hys Uicarage at Rome, cannot be Christes Uicar. And séeyng he is not Christs Uicar, I know not whose Uicar he should be, vnlesse he be the Diuels Uicar: for I am sure he thinks scorne to be a Uicar to any meane Parson, for that he hath borne rule aboue Emperors & Kings, that haue kissed his féete, holden his styr [...]op, ledde his horse, & haue lyen groue­ling, [Page] whiles he hath troden on their necke.

You haue proued very well, that Christ had no Parsonage at Rome, therfore the Pope hauing y ^e chief place of his Uicarage at Rome, cā in no wise be Christs Uicar, for the Parsonage & vicarage must néeds be both in one place.

The Pope did wilily whē he chose hīself vicar vn­der such a parsō as Christ is, for therby he knew, y ^t he shold not only come in great credit as he hath done: but also was sure, that the Parson of y ^e benefice dwelled so far from him, y ^t he woulde neither come to receiue his tythes, neither yet controll y ^e Uicar whatsoeuer he did, so y ^t thereby he is bothe Parson, Uicar, and al: but yet y ^e Pope being called Sanctissi­mus (which is moste holy) must néeds haue such a good con­sciēce (hauing such a great liuing vnder his said parson) y ^t I doubt not but he hath & doth daily giue a great deale ther­of to the pore friends of Christ his Parson: and so Christ is as wel pleased, as though he had bestowed it on himself, for he saith, whatsoeuer you giue to the pore, y ^t giue you to me.

If y ^e Pope did so, it were wel, but I am sure, y ^t he doth y ^e cōtrary, for a maruelous deale of this his wōderfull tresure, he most vainly, voluptuously, & wickedly cōsumeth on himself & his train: & no smal part therof he spēdeth on y ^e mortal enimies of Christ his parsō: & a huge deale therof he consumeth, & y ^e most willingly to trouble, vexe, empouerish, hurt, murther, & kil the very friends of Christ his Parson.

If this be true y ^t you saye, it is one of the greatest argumēts y ^t can be, that the Pope is none of Christs vicar: for hereby it appéereth, that y ^e Pope is Christs vtter enimy, for he y ^t loueth Christs enimies, & hateth Christs friendes, must néeds hate Christ: & he y ^t hateth Christ, cānot be Chri­stes friend, therfore he must néedes be his enimy: wherby it semeth, that Christ was maruellously oueréene, if he chose his enimy to be his Uicar: but bicause we are most sure, y ^t Christ cannot be ouerséene, therfore he hath not chosen the Pope to be his Uicar: and so the Pope muste néedes holde his Uicarage by vsurpation, and not by any good title.

He maye vsurpe a while, but Christe will bring hym to an accompte one day, for intruding hymselfe into Christs Uicarage. Wel, we haue bin so long in hand with this holy and rich Uicar the Pope, that we haue forgot the pore Parsons and Uicars of our countrey.

I thought none but youre Uicars and Curates had had simple and bare liuings, but bycause you named them euen nowe pore Parsons, therefore it is like they haue pore Parsonages: haue your Parsonages suche smal profits and commodities belonging to them, that the Par­sons therof are not able honestly and decently to find them­selues and to succour their pore Parishioners?

There are fewe or no Parsonages with vs, but that haue sufficient profites and commodities belonging vnto them: But such gréedie and couetous Patrones are the giuers of many of them, Couetous Pa­trons. that they wil be sure, that they to whom they giue them, shal yéelde them yerely one fléece out of them: Some of them wil haue halfe at the leaste, some I feare haue more, though some haue lesse, or else they wil haue some rounde summe of money ere they will graunt or present them.

Such buyers and sellers of Benefices do not wel know what they do.

Though you think they know not what they do, I am right sure they care not what they doe, the daun­ger thereof is not yet, but hereafter: whiche before was suf­ficiently debated betwéene vs.

But I praye you sir, are these Benefice buyers learned or not?

Forsooth some of them are more learned than many, but not so godly as a greate sorte.

No, for if they were, they would not come in by the windowe: but if one shoulde call them by theyr ryghte name, they woulde be angry: yet Christ that cannot lye, saith they are very théeues: and what théeues are worthy to haue, I reporte me to true men. Théeues maye escape [Page] a while, but yet most commonly they are hāged at the last: Note this, euen so these Spirituall théeues, meaning as wel the tem­porall that sel, as the spirituall that doe buy, vnlesse they leaue their théeuery, and repent vnfainedly, wil be hanged in hell.

That is the worse hanging of the two, one were better to be hanged at Tyborne twice, than in Hel once.

Me thinkes they that haue learning and know­ledge, shoulde rather refuse liuings than to haue them on that sorte.

Yea but if the learned be couetous, what then? is not Couetousnesse able to driue one faster to mischiefe, than Lerning is able to pluck him back? what is Lerning without the feare of God? no more than a fine witte in a common drunkarde. Too true, If the spirituall man be gréedie of ly­uing, and the Temporall man as couetous of money: the one wil thinke it no more sin to giue, than the other thinke it an offence to take: So that, if these two doe méete togy­ther, the bargaine wil not be long a making. But I know some that are godly learned, and feare God so much, that wyl rather beg their bread, than buy a Benefice.

But howe doth the gréedie Patrone then, when such godly men wil not yéelde to his request? for he can not occupie the Parsonage himselfe.

Tush, he careth not for that, he knoweth, if one wil not, an other will: he will finde one that hathe little learning and lesse honestie, for want of liuing, that will be content that the Patrone shall haue the beste parte oute of it, thinking himselfe happy if he haue twentie markes or twentie poundes yearely, though the Benefice be worth a hundreth poundes by yeare, séeing he had nothing to lyue on before. And I warrant you the Patrone wil haue hym surely bounde for bursting to enioy the same, and but a few shall knowe thereof. He that hathe hys wares to sell in a faire, Note▪ cannot lightly want a chapman. Where there are more sellers than buyers, wares will be there cheape, but [Page] where there are moe buyers than sellers, wares there wil be deare. Therefore Parsonages and Benefices are verye deare with vs, for that there are moe Parsons for Parso­nages, than Parsonages for Parsons.

Yea, perhaps moe euill Parsons than Parsona­ges: but I beleue ther are mo Parsonages thā good Parsōs.

That is most true, for if ther were as many good Parsons, as there be Parsonages, then many woulde not haue so many benefices as they haue.

What? is there any with you that haue anye moe benefices than one?

Yea that there be a great-sorte, some haue twoo, some haue thrée, some haue foure, yea, some haue had fyue or sixe at the least, I am ashamed to goe any further.

It is very strāge that you tel, truly our Preachers w ^t vs haue but one benefice, & yet they think that one such a gret charge & heuy burthē, y ^t they are scant able to beare it.

And contrary, many of our Parsons are so lusty & strong y ^t they thinke two or thrée benefices is but a smal burthen: Strong Parsōs. I think in my cōsciēce, y ^t if some with vs had half a score benefices on their backs, they would not say they wer fully loaden, but would cal for mo if they might haue thē.

Such (I feare) set their owne soules to sale, & al y ^e soules of their séely pore flocke. Your parsōs are or should be, watchmen, whereof the Prophet Ezechiel speaketh: & is it possible for a mā to watch in mo places than one at once? one is not thought sufficient to watch a castle in the time of war, therfore halfe a dozen or moe are appointed to watch: Now, A good argu­ment. if so many are but sufficiēt to watch an erthly castle, & that against worldly enimies, whō they may sée: then one can be no more but sufficient to watch a spirituall tower a­gainst our enimy y ^e diuel, whō we cānot sée. And séeing that one can be but sufficient to be a spirituall watchman in one place or parsonage: thē one cānot be sufficiēt to be a spiritu­all watchmā of 2. or .3. places or Parsonages, much lesse of 5. or 6. parsonages or mo, specially, where ther is 20▪ 40. 60. 80. or 100. miles, betwéene one Parsonage and another.

He that can des [...]ry al the dangers that may hap­pen to all these places at once, & also can then presently tel all the people that dwel there of y ^e same, his sight is a great deale better than mine, & he hath a louder voice thā I haue by a great deale. Christ had as good watchmē (which were his Apostles) as any had I beléeue: yet they neuer charged or burthened themselues with so many sundry places for li­uing, though they wer as able to discharge thē, as our par­sons that haue 3. or 4. benefices: but they were of an other mind thā the most of our Parsons are, for they had greate care of many, and gaine of none, and these oure Parsons haue gaine of many, and care of fewe.

Yea but I thinke your Parsons doe goe often to their Parsonages, and do preach to their parishioners.

Some do, & som do not, som of thē fetch 30. or 40. [...] & giue thē a sermō, & thē away they go, & perhaps they shal sée thē no more of two or thrée yeres: mary they shal be sure to heare frō thē once or twice a yere, whē they send for their profits. And some do seldom or neuer come to some of their benefices, but they wil be sure to send yearely for their pro­fits. I heard one once say, y ^t they had a good quiet Parson, he did neuer trouble them, A meete Parsō they knew him not, for they neuer saw him, & yet he had bin their Parson 20. yeres at y ^e least.

Such are pope-like parsōs, for they féed their flock neither bodily nor ghostly, bicause they wil be sure they wil not fulfil the meaning of Christ in feding his shéepe: & ther­fore they doe not loue Christ: but at y ^e last & terrible daye of iudgemēt, if Christ shal hate & reiect thē, bicause they loued him not, & then sēd thē into hel fire to burn in torments for euer, thē they wil find y ^t these are déere benefires, & y ^t it had bin better to haue fedde their flocke than to haue famished their flock, & wil wish then, rather to haue preached to their parishioners without profits, than to haue profits of them without preaching: but thē it wil be too late to wil or wish.

Many of our parsons féed their flock a little better: for perhaps they wil lie at their benefices 2. or 3. moneths, [Page] and at an other as long, and thus they will be sure to féede them all.

Yea, but not all at once.

I do not say so.

But who shall preache to the rest of his flocke in his absence?

He fed them so wel before, that they may farrye a while: he will féede them when hée commeth to them a­gaine, whiche perhappes wil be within halfe a yere, or a tweluemoneth.

The Parson will féede his owne bellie oftener I warrant him, for he wil be sure to eate once or twice euery day at the leaste: for he knoweth ful well, that if his bodie should be without food but two or thrée daies, it would be in daunger of famishing: Then, can the Parson thinke that the soules of his flocke can be halfe a yeare or a twelu­moneth without foode, and not in danger of perishing? If the body be sicke neuer so little, the Phisition muste be stil with it, to giue it suche medicines as is requisite for the health thereof: And may the soule then whiche is alwaies sicke (for euery sinne that is committed, is a sore and sick­nesse to the soule) be without hir Phisition halfe a yeare or a tweluemoneth, the preacher of Gods worde, whiche is the onely medicine that healeth the sickenesse of the soule? The soule hathe as muche néede of hir dayly foode for feare of perishing, as the body hathe néede of meate and drinke, for feare of famishing: Nay, the soule hathe a greate deale more néede to be fed for feare of Spirituall death, than the body hathe for feare of worldly death: for, if the bodye dye for want of foode, it shall rise againe, yea and liue for euer, if it die in Christe: but if the soule dye for want of foode, it shall die eternally, and lie in hel which is called the second death. Therefore these Parsons are maruellous carelesse that féede their bodies so diligently, which must néedes die at length for all their féeding, and suffer their soules, and the soules of their flocke for want of féeding to dye euerla­stingly, [Page] which should liue for euer if they would féed them▪ But if such péeuish Parsons should be constrained, to féed their own bellies no after with meate and drink, Marke this. than they féed their flock with Spiritual food: then many of your Parsons woulde haue fewer Benefi [...]es than they haue, and preach a great deale ofter to their flocke than they do.

You may bée sure of that, if that shoulde bée so, they would be afrayd to haue one Benefice, least they should be con­strained to faste when they would faynest féede. O madde men, more brutish than Beasts, and more senslesse than Swine, that the loue of their bellies can make them do more for their flock, than the loue of Christ can do, which hath shed his hearte bloud for them, to saue them from Hel, and to bring them to Heauen. These greate beneficed Parsons doe knowe very wel, that one flock of Shéep is ynough, and ynough for one Shepherd to loke too, and kéepe safely: then foure or fiue flocks are too many. For if the Shepherd be not daily with his flocke and looke very dili­gently to them, they will quickly go astray and be in danger to be deuoured. Nay will not some of them myscarrie & be in dan­ger though the Shepherd be still with them? yes be sure. Then if the Shepherd haue thrée or foure flockes of Shéepe in sundry places, he can not be stil with euery flock, for though he be con­tinually with one flock, yet two or thrée of his flocks must née­des be without a Shepherde, which shepherdlesse flockes must néedes goe as [...]ray, and many of them in danger to perish. For some of those Shéepe perish, that haue their Shepherd stil with them: then many of them are like to perishe that haue at all no Shepherd with them. Thus if one Shepherd be scant sufficient for the kéeping safe of one flocke of Shéepe, then one Spirituall Shepherd can be but sufficiēt to kéep one flock of people, which is Chrystes Shéepe. And if it be requisite that euery flocke of Shéep haue a Shepherd continually to loke to them, for feare of the Wolfe: then it is much more requisite that euery flocke of Chrystes Shéepe should haue a Spiritual Shepherd or Pastor alwayes with them for feare of the Diuell: Very true. but howe can that Parson be continually with his flock, that hath moe Benefices [Page] then one, as before is sufficiently proued?

Surely Siuqila you haue spoken both wisely & truly, I perceiue if you were of that function, as I think you are not, you would not burthen your selfe with many benefices.

If I shoulde addict my selfe that way as aduisedly & circumspectly, as many runnes into it both boldly and rashlye, I would rather desire muche learning to féede my flocke, than great liuing to pamper my selfe: but many now a dayes had ra­ther haue a liuing to loyter, thā knowlege to preach. Wel now let vs leaue our gréedie Parsōs, that haue neuer ynough of spi­rituall liuings: and talke of your Gentlemen that are contente with their owne temporal liuings: I praye you sir, doe they en­haunce their Rents with you?

Surelie the Tenantes with vs, know not what en­haun [...]ing of Rentes doth meane, neither the Landlordes haue anie suche thing in their minde: the Lands with vs are no hier rented, than they were foure or fiue thousand yeares since.

I much muse therof, the Rēts are maruellously en­haunced with vs.

Why shoulde you so? it is not to be mused at neuer a whit: if your Gentlemen and Landlords, were content with a competent liuing, temperate féeding, and moderate going as ours are, then they would enhaunce their Rentes no more thā they do: but I perceiue that manie of your Gentlemen & Land­lords, haue such ambitious mindes, so desirous of honor, are so prodigal in spending, so excessiue in féeding, and so Princely in going, that it is no maruel though their auntient rich Farmers and good housekéeping Tenants, be turned into poore drudges, and miserable peasantes.

I am not deny it, your wordes are too true, in many of them, for to say true, few degrées with vs are contente with their own estate or calling, but wish to be higher, though some deserue to be lower [...]the Gētleman wold be a Squire, y ^e Squire a Knight, the Knight a Baron, the Baron a Lord, the Lord an Earle, the Erle a Marques, the Marques a Duke, and so high­er if they might with their safetie.

And I pray you would not your Farmers be Land­lords, and your Yeomen be Gentlemen?

Yes I warrant you: and so through raking of riches togither, they come dayly to promotion and authoritie.

I wil not say, but that welth ioyned with wisedome, is wor­thy of promotion and authoritie, otherwise, pouertie ought ra­ther to be preferred: for a poore wise man may get wealth and riches, but a rich foole wil neuer get wisdom. O happie are your Tenants that haue such contented Lādlords. And our Tenāts are vnhappie that dwell vnder such vncontented cormorantes.

The Gentlemen and Landlords with vs liue so con­tentedly, so moderately, and so godly, y ^t they haue no occasiō to racke their Rentes: and their tenauntes are so neighborly, cha­ritable, and such louers of the commonwelth, y ^t they neuer en­hance the price of their corne, victuals, and other commodities.

Yet scarcitie may constraine them, to rayse the price of their corne and victuals.

Nay we know not what scarcitie doth mean: for God doth so blesse the grounde, of our godlye and contented Lande­lords, and the laboures of the honest and painefull Tenantes, that we neuer haue but great aboundance of corne, victual, and other necessaries.

We haue had likewise such a continuall plenty since we receiued the Gospel, that I beléeue our Country neuer ta­sted the like so long togither: but we must néedes confesse that it hath bin only of Gods great goodnes & not of our deseruing.

So God wil blesse you still, if you performe indéede that you professe with your mouth.

Then, I perceiue, it is hard to finde a raiser of Rents with you.

Yea verily, it is as impossible to finde one enhauncer of Rentes with vs, as it is easie to find many with you: and to say truthe, it were but a follie for any to doe so with vs, for hée should not find a Tenant that would giue one peny more than the olde Rente. And if any shoulde, we haue neuer a Landlord wil take it.

If the tenants had done so with vs, our Rents wold not haue bene so rackt as they are, but trulie many of th [...] are so enuious of their neighbors prosperitie, and so gréedy of their owne commoditie, that they are the chief occasion of the vnrea­sonable enhauncing of our Rentes: for they haue, and do daylie goe to the owners of their neyghbors Farmes (& some of thē, whome I call their neighbours, dwell twentie or fortie myles from them) and profer them so much, that the Landlorde being sodainly grypte with the gréedie worme, doth take his gentle & vnsought for offer, and so thrust out his olde tenant, when his Lease is expired, and perhappes before, if many or might may doe it.

They, whose Farmes they so go about to take, may well be their neighboures: but they that so vncharitablie take their neighbours Farmes ouer their heades, are no good neigh­bours, but wicked cut-throats. But what harm haue they that so gette their neighboures Farmes, Grounde, or Houses from them?

No harme at all, vnlesse that be harme to enioy qui­etly the Farme or House, which hée so craftily hyred out of hys neighbours hand: neyther haue we any Law, once to punish or trouble them therfore.

We haue suche a Lawe for such takers, or hyrers of their neighboures House or Grounde, that none with vs néede feare the hyring of their Farmes from them. If you had such a Law with you, your Rentes would not be so enhaunced, your Fines would not be so much vsed, your Landlordes would not be so enriched, nor the pore Tenants and Farmers would not be so vnhoused, as I perceiue they are.

I pray you sir, what lawe haue you therfore?

Forsooth a very straight law, but it is seldome or ne­uer executed, wherfore few or none with vs doeth knowe that we haue such a law. This saying or meaning of Christ ( Do as thou wouldst be done vnto) is so déeply printed in our brests, that we néede none other law.

O happie are they that so regarde the lawe of God, [Page] that you néede not the lawe of man, but I beséeche you lot me heare your law in this case prouided.

That you shal with al my [...] this it is: whosoe­uer offereth or taketh any fi [...]e, for any house or grounde, other­wise than hath bene accustomed, he shal pay the fourth parte of his goods: the one halfe whereof shall be for a fine to the king of our Countrey, the other halfe shal be solde, and giuen equallie to the poorest neighbours of him that offered, and that toke the saide Fine: and this law is so straightly executed, y ^t none with vs wil offer any Fines.

This is a verye straighte lawe for offeryng of Fines.

Let none offer Fines, and then it is not straight

That is true, but yet it séemeth by your words, that there are fines accustomed with you.

There are so, but none must either offer or giue them but the Tenauntes of the same house or ground, A reasonable fine. when theyr Leases are expyred, and that is, but one yeares Rent towards the maintayning of the Lord.

Oh I would to God none paide with vs anye grea­ter Fines, than one yeares Rent of their house or Farme: but the Fines of houses and Farmes with vs are commonlye so greate, yea besides the new enhauncing of the Rents of y ^e same houses or farmes, that the yeares of their Leases wil be almost expyred, ere they can recouer the same: and manye of them are constrayned to sel a greate parte of their stocke, which shoulde maintaine them in their Farmes, for the paying of the same Fines: that therby they are vtterly beggarde, and so are faine, for wante of Cattell and Corne, to lette oute the most of their Grounde to others, which do reape the chiefe commoditie from them, without either charge or Fine [...]whereby they shall ne­uer recouer or get againe the one halfe of their Fine, and there­by when their Leasses are ended, are farre vnable to pay a new Fine and the enhaunced Rentes for the same: and so they are thruste oute of their Farmes, whereby many that kepte good houses, and reléeued the poore, are nowe verome beggars them­selues.

Surely it is pitifull to heare, but more sorow­ful to be suffred. Our Lādlords are not of y ^e minde of your Lād­lords, for al degrées with vs y ^t haue lands to let, do not only re­fuse & abhorre to take such Fines, but also wil lessen or lawne their Rents, if they set y ^t their Tenāts are not wel able to liue of y ^e same. Yea▪ & if their Tenāts should by any myschaunce be vnable to paye them their Rent, they wil not onely forgiūe thē y ^e same, but also wil giue thē mony to helpe them withall.

There may be such Landlords with vs, but if there be, I feare there are not many. But I pray you procéed, what is your Law for such as do hire their neighbors House frō thē?

Marke and I wil tell you. Whosoeuer doth procure to take his neighbore House or Farme without his cōsent, his House or farme (if he haue any) shal be set or let to his next po­rest neighbor for y ^e space of .vij. yeres▪ & if it be his own freé lād, the sayd poore Tenāt shal pay y ^e ancient Rent of the same, to the maintaining of the wife & children of [...] went about to take his neighbore House or Ground. And none vpon pain of forfei­ting their House or land to the King, shal [...] him eyther House or Groūd for the space of the same vij. yeres: And he shal weare on his back & bosome these wordes all that whyle: ( This man went about to put his neighbour out of his House) and so he shall be knowne what he is, wherby euery one shall shun him that séeth him. How like you this Lawe, haue you such a Law with you for such as séek to put their neibors frō their Houses?

We haue none suche, I woulde we hadde, but some would thinke that it were too strait a Lawe.

The godlie Father doth not make the rod purposely to beate his Chylde, but to cause him to shunne offences that he may not be beaten: so we haue not made this Lawe to make men be punished, but only to cause them not to hyre their nei­bors Houses, that they be not punished. So that this law is not strait to him that doth not offend: & for him that wil néedes of­fend it is not strait ynough. I wil tel you how one was serued with vs, that went about to hire his neibors House from him: Mark it wel, for the example is not very tedious, nor the mater friuolous. There was one in our countrie (but it is long since) [Page] that had a Farme of a Gentleman by the old Rent, which was y [...]rly worth to y ^e Farmer [...] at least, he being both couetous himself, & desirous to make his son & gentleman (as many Far­mers with you I think do & haue done) & therwithal very rich, smelling & perceiuing that a certain Gentleman by him, being Landlord to one of his neibors, was both needie & greedie: went with a bag of gold to him (knowing that gold was a good [...]yfe to catch such a fish) & sayd [...] Sir I vnderstand that you are Lord of such a Farme, & for that I perceiue your tenānt is not so be­neficial to you as he is bound, neither payth half so much Rent to you for it as it is worth: I am come to you not only to offer you this purse ful of gold for a Fine, but wil giue you as much more yéerly Rent as he payeth. To whom the Gentleman said. You profer me wel, & I would grant your request but for feare of the law. You know herein the lawes, are not onely set forth with great extremitie, but also executed with great seueritie: to whom the Farmer answered briefly: what sir [...] are you afrayde of your own shadow? he that is afraid of euerie grasse, must not walk in a medow: if you be not too tender harted, or too spice cō ­scienced, or think you haue more than ynough, this purse full of gold, and the yéerlie doubling of your rent, wil make you yéeld. To whom the Gentleman said: I could be content to grant thy desire, but what a mischief shouldst thou incur to giue me such an vnreasonable Fine? thou knowest for offring of this Fine (if it were knowne) thou shouldest forfet the fourth part of all thy goods (the law therfore is so strait): then how shouldest thou be handled for giuing, and I for taking of it, if it be knowne? Tu [...] sayd the Farmer, if you kéep your own coūsel I wil kéep mine. Suppose, said the Gentleman, that we kéep our owne counsels for the Fine, yet y ^e enhancing of the Rent could not be hid: Yes I could find a meane for that, said the Farmer, our Lease shuld haue expressed in it but only the olde Rent, & I would promise you by my faith, that I would pay you euerie Rent-day during my Lease, as much Rent mor [...] as is set downe in the Lease. I might happly be deceyued, said the Gentleman, if I shuld trust to that, for you that wil not stick to break Gods cōmandement in taking al your neibors liuing, A thing very likelie. wil not let to break your own [Page] promise in d [...]ding me of the one halfe of my Rent, whych is not the tenth part of my liuing, but if thou wilt do thus, said the Gentleman, that is, make me a Bill of det, that thou owest me thus much money, as the one halfe of y ^e Rent cōmeth to du­ring the time of the Lease, and wilt therin graunt payment to me at such dayes as the rent is to be payde, of so muche money as the seuerall [...] of the Rents of the Farme amo [...] ­teth to thē tho [...] shalt [...] what I wil say vnto thée▪ Yes that I wil, saide the Farmer. Yea, but marke saide the Gentleman, there is one mischiefe behinde, whiche will hardely be salued. What is that? said the Farmer. Marrie that is this, said y ^e gē ­tlemā: though the Fine be kept neuer so close, and y ^e rackt Rent hid neuer so pri [...]lye, yet the hiring of thy neighbours house or farme from him, must needes be knowen, for I am sure the Tenaunt wil not kepe [...] Counsel. Sir, said the Farmer, you may be holde of that: but I knowe a salue will heale that sore wel [...]. If you cā do so, saide the gentleman, then the mat­ter wil be soone at [...] Then [...] F [...]rmer: I can haue two or thrée trustie fellowes for a little mo [...]y, that shall wit­nesse if néede be, that I hadde [...]his confente in the taking of this farme of you, and that he did take money of me, that I might enter into his farme with his good will, after the ende of his [...] were best to take héede, said the gentlemā, least your witnesses deceiue you▪ Nay said he, I am sure of thē, they wil cleaue to me like [...] for money: well, it is good to be circums [...], saide the gentleman, for the Iudge is so godly & so wise, that he will smell out a false knaue and a false matter quickly. Yea but said the Farmer that Iudge is dead that you meane of, we haue and ther [...] Iudge [...] in his [...], that is neither [...] as he [...] and moreouer he is so nie me, that he wil not take parte againste me, for he is my owne Sonne, so that if néede shoulde stande, he would leane a little on my side, and [...] with the wrong. And to make him more [...] pleasure me and my friende, I will present him [...] with such [...], that [...] after he maye be the [...] willing to take my parte. Wel, [...] the Gentleman, if you [Page] can bring al this to passe as you say, I wil here graunt you my Farme, and wil make a lease thereof, and to enter on it immediatly after my Tenants lease is expyred, and there­vpon I take this for a fine, so that it be al gold: Yes sir, said the Farmer, it is all golde, and that good golde I warrant you. And then the said gréedie Gentleman tolde the golde, and so tooke it and carryed it away with him.

What followed then?

Forsooth al this was wroughte as politikely as mighte bée: but you shall heare howe the matter fell out: within two or thrée moneths before the saide Gentlemans Tenantes lease was expyred, according to the custome of our countrey, the saide Tenant went to the saide Gentle­man his Landlord, with a couple of Capons for a good-wil present, not a customed gift: and saide: Sir, of good will I haue brought you a couple of Capons, to whom the Gen­tleman saide, I thinke you are come rather of necessitie thā for good wil or frendship, but go to, say on, what is your wil with me? Sir, said the Farmer, it is not vnknown to you, that my lease of my farme is almost out, wherfore I come to you, according vnto the custome, to desire you to make me a newe lease, and loe, here is, besides the Capons that of good wil I giue you, one whole yeres rent of my farme, as a fine for the same. A good custo [...] for Farmers. Indéede said the Gentleman by the custome of our countrey, I ought to make you a newe lease of your Farme, paying to me one yeres rent for a fine ther­fore: but you know euery Landlord may let his Farme or ground to whom he list, so that the Farmer that dwelleth in it doth agrée thereto: that is true, saide the Farmer, but what meane you by that? you knowe wel ynough, said the Gentleman what I meane thereby, for I am sure you are not ignorant, that I haue made a lease of the Farme you now dwel in, to an other man, and that with your consent: sir, saide the Farmer I thinke you do but ieste, to proue my patience withall, I had néede to knowe of it before I con­sent to it, and it were more méete I should know the party [Page] to whome I should consent, than to consent before I know the partie. You knowe him I am sure, saide the Gentle­man, you néede not make the matter so strange, he dwel­leth not farre from you, he is a neyghboure of yours. If anye suche, saide the Farmer, hathe hyred my house ouer my heade wythoute my consent, hée maye bée my neigh­boure, but he is no godlye neighboure. The trueth is so sir, if anye hathe hyred my Farme of you, as yet I ney­ther knowe who it is, neither haue I consented to anie suche thing. Then saide the Farmers Landlorde, I am sure, that I haue lette youre Farme: and I am certaine, that you haue cōsented to the letting of your Farme: whe­ther you were druncke or no when you consented to it, I knowe not, but he was sober inoughe to whome you con­sented I am sure. Wel, saide the Farmer, all this youre talke is Hebrewe to me, for I knowe not what it meaneth: Yea but, said the Gentleman, you shal finde it your owne Countrey spéeche when you féele what it is: goe your way, you get no Lease of me, when your Lease is expyred, then you shall knowe who it is that hired it: you knowe full well who hathe hired it, but that you liste to dallie and worke wiles with me. I praye God, saide the Farmer; that you worke not wiles with me, for I vse nothing but plainenesse with you. Marke well. Oh sir, said he, wil you degenerate from youre good auncestors? will you goe aboute to break the laudable customes of this oure famous Countrie, that oure godly fore elders by great wisedome established, of their successors continued, and now throughout our whole Countrey practized? When I came nowe to you, I made a full accompte, that you woulde not deny me: for who is it, through al this our countrie of Mauqsun, that l [...]ueth our King, obeyeth our lawes, estéemeth our orders, fauoureth our fame, regardeth their owne credite, and wisheth a ge­nerall commoditie to oure Countrie, that once will pre­sume to violate or breake our commendable customes? and wil you, being a worthie Gentleman, and of an auncient [Page] house of this our countrie, contrarie to our good orders and custome, putte out me your louing and obedient Tenant, without any iuste cause, who with my fore-elders, haue thus manie thousand yeares dwelled quietlie in the same? Let neither glistering gold entice you, neither anie Fines allure you, nor yet racked Rents procure you to do that in an houre, that shall bring your infamie all your life. You sée, that all your elders that neuer put oute their pore Te­naunts, didde liue with worshippe, and die with fame: and will you by putting out your pore Tenaunte, liue with dis­worship, and die with shame? You knowe sir, that no coun­trie in all the world, hathe wiser Rulers, iuster Iudges, better lawes, nor yet better executed than we haue: you heare of sewe that offend the lawe, but none vnpunished that offende the lawe: therefore foresée the daunger, leaste when you woulde you cannot auoide the danger. They that procure you to fall, I feare can not helpe you vppe. Then the Gentleman said, (shewing himselfe to be angrie) away thou prating knaue, dost thou tell me my dutie? Diuines are daintie, Note this: when peasaunts do preache. Sir, said the Te­naunt, though I am too simple to preach, yet I may be able to giue good counsel. Euery welthie head hath not wisdom at wil, nor euerie poore fellowe is not fraught with follie: wisedome is not alwayes tied to wealth, nor foolishenesse is not alwaies knit to pouerty: therefore the wiseman wil consider the talke, not the talker, but fooles regard the tal­ker, not the talke: wherfore sir, the wiser you are, the wil­linglier you wil weigh my wordes. Good counsell may do good if it be taken in time: but if it come too late it profiteth not. And nowe, for that perhaps you haue denied mée my Lease only to proue me, I wil not shew my selfe obstinate, nor be stubborne to you, at whose handes I haue my chiefe liuing: Therefore as your moste louing and obedient Te­naunt, I humbly beséeche you to lette mée haue a newe lease from you of my Farme: and here againe I offer vnto [Page] you for a fine, one whole yeares rent of my Farme. To whome the Gentleman saide, get thée hence, thou shalte haue none other lease of me than thou haste, neither will I take thy fine, nor accepte thée long for my Tenante, and therewith the sorrowfull tenaunte went away.

But I pray you sir, did the tenant when his lease was expyred go willingly oute of his Farme, or didde hys Landlord thruste him out by force?

Forsooth neither, for he tarryed in it stil, & would not go out, but kept possession thereof, so that he that hyred the saide Farme ouer his heade, complained of him to the Iudge who was his owne sonne, thinking that he woulde weigh with him altogither being his father.

It was very like so, therefore it was maruaile that he durste stande so againste his Landlord, and against him that had hyred his Farme, considering the Iudge was his sonne.

Yea you, and they of your Countrey may mar­uaile at it wel ynoughe, for perhappes some Iudges with you woulde haue fauoured their fathers cause, thoughe it had not bene altogither right.

That is verye like, for there haue bene Iudges with vs ere nowe, that haue wincked at the right, and haue fauored such as had neither right nor good title in the thing they sued for, and yet was neither theyr father, mother, si­ster, nor brother, nor any kinne at all to them.

Then perhappes they greased them in the hands with the golden ointment, whiche hathe as greate vertue to allure wicked Iudges as consanguinitie or kinred. But this Farmer, whose house was hyred from him, did assure himselfe, that the Iudges of Mauqsun are so righteous, god­ly, and fear God so much, that neither loue of theyr kinred, fauor of theyr friendes, nor yet bribes of strangers, coulde make them once tread awry: besides that, he knew ful wel, that if the Iudge shoulde weigh with the wrong, and doe contrary to equitie and iustice, that then we haue suche a [Page] louing, affable, diligent, and righteous King, that if anye pore man complaine to him of wrong done to him by any whatsoeuer he were, he woulde heare the matter himselfe, and whether he were Lorde, Ruler, or Iudge that did the party wrong, he should be sure to pay ful dearly for it, ac­cording to y ^e law, without any hope of remission or pardon: And therfore this Farmer did not feare his righteous mat­ter at al, though the Iudge was son to his enimy: so y ^t whē y ^e Iudges father had cōplayned to his son, as is before said, making to his son a very plain & smooth matter of it, as hée told the tale: the Iudge then said, father I much muse, y ^t the said Farmer would first consent & be willing, The wise say­ing of the Iudge, y ^t you should haue his Farme after his yeres were expyred, & nowe after his lease is ended to withstād you, & not suffer you to enter into the same: & so much y ^t rather, for y ^t he knoweth you are my deare father, & that I loue & estéem you aboue all erthly creatures, who may very well think, y ^t if I will aide & help the widow, fatherlesse, & strāgers that I know not, to their right, y ^t then I wil not suffer you to take any wrong: Ther­fore it séemeth, y ^t either he is a noughtie obstinate or foolish fellow, or y ^t he was drūke when he consēted & agréed to your taking of his Farme: or else it séemeth, y ^t you go about to do him wrong, presuming y ^t rather to prosecute your pretēded matter against him, in hope to obtaine your desire, for y ^t I am your son y ^t muste be Iudge of y ^e cause: but father I haue such a good opinion in you; y ^t you wil neither go about to do any man wrong, neither bring any false matter before me: And therfore I am perswaded, y ^t the foolish Farmer of some set purpose, doth withstand & resist you: to whom his father then said, do you think son, that I would séeke mine owne shame, & your reproch? be bolde I wil not: & that you may credite my matter the better, loe here are thrée witnesses y ^t were by, when he consēted & agréed, y ^t I should take a lease of his Farme: & here is the Gentleman his landlord y ^t will affirm the same. And then the Gentleman said to y ^e Iudge, my Lord, you know we haue a law, y ^t they y ^t haue any lāds [Page] houses or groūd here in y ^e country of Mauqsun, may neither put out their tenants (but for certain great & vrgēt causes, which I am not able to lay & proue agaīst my late farmer) neither may take anie fines, other than y ^e accustomed fine, which is, one yeres rent: nor yet may enhance their rents. Therfore séeing I cannot take anie in-come of anie, A s [...]ttle saying, neither raise or enhāce my rents: to what end should I put out my Tenant y ^t hath paid my rent truly, & vsed himself honestly? vnlesse he were willing & consenting thereto? you say very true, said y ^e Iudge, y ^t matter séemeth to be very apparāt: but I maruell y ^t he shoulde be so willing before, & so vnwilling now. Belike said the Gētleman, he was either not wel ad­uised whē he did consent to it, or else it may he, y ^t he thoght himself sure of some other house or Farm to be in, at y ^e time of his cōsent, and now cānot haue y ^e same: wherby he repēts y ^t he so fondly agreed, & so thinketh by force to kéep it, and to desude your good nature by one meane or other. Then the Iudge said, it wer a follie for him so to think, for he may be sure that I am not such a foole, but that I can finde out the truth: & that I wil not take his part in wrong, to be against my father in right. If he hadde bin disappointed of an other house (contrarie to his expectation) it had bin his best way to come to me, to desire me to intreate my father, to be good vnto him, & to suffer him to enioy his Farme still, which I assure you I would haue done, & I thinke my father would haue done so much at my request. Yea son said he, I would haue done more for you than that. Then saide the Iudge, I wil send for the Farmer hither, and sée what he can saie for himself. It shal not néed, said his father, here is euidence inough, therfore I pray you procéed according to y ^e law [...]ay father, said y ^e Iudge, you shal hold me excused therin, y ^t bet­ter euidence & witnes you haue, y ^e lesse hath he: & our lawe wil not suffer y ^t any mā be prosecuted or condēned, but y ^t he must haue knowlege therof, & to speake for himself, or some other for him: You shal be sure y ^t he cā do you no wrong as long as I am Iudge: And therfore I wil send for him: your [Page] thrée witnesses here, besides your own credite & this gentle­mans, wil soone make an end of this matter: And also I wil persuade him to yéeld possession to you by gentle meanes, otherwise I wil tel him y ^t law wil enforce him thereto, w ^t further losse whether he wil or no. Then he said to his son, I pray you doe, & let it be as quickly dispatched as maye be. And then the Iudge immediately sent an officer for him, at whose cōmandemēt he came by & by: whom, when y ^e Iudge saw, he said, I maruel Farmer, why you do not suffer my father to enioy & possesse y ^e Farm you dwel in, which he toke of this gentlemā, let him haue possession therein quietly & spéedily, or else he shal haue it whether you wil or no: Thē y ^t Farmer was about to speake, but y ^e Iudges father spake sodainly, & said [...] you niyght be sure you folish fellow y ^t you haue a wrong match, & that you cānot be able to withstand me, A faire bragge. specially seing my son is Iudge where our matter must be determined. Thē y ^e Farmer answered again very sober­ly: I know my matter is so true, and your son so vpright a Iudge, y ^t I am right glad, that he shal haue y ^e determining of my matter, though you are his father, & I but a stranger to him. What Farmer, hast y ^t such a good opinon in me, said y ^e Iudge? Yea that I haue, said y ^e Farmer, & none can make me beleue, y ^t either father, fauor, affection, kinred, mony, or rewardes, can make you iudge vniustly, or deale vntruely: then the Iudge said, y ^u art not deceiued in me: therfore, for y ^e affiance y ^u hast in me, & for y ^e good wil I beare thée, yéelde vp thy possessiō to my father, & let him haue his right w ^t quiet­nesse, & I wil be a suter to him to be good to thée. Sir, said y ^t Farmer, by y ^t time that the truth is knowne, and al things stand according to equitie, you wil not think y ^t he cā plea­sure me. This is verie strāge said y ^e Iudge: if I may credite mine own father, this honest Gētleman, & these thrée sober witnesses, y ^u hast cōsēted & agréed y ^t my father should take a lease in reuersiō of this Gentlemā. My Lord, said the Far­mer, as it is méete y ^t a man should be at his own marriage, so it were requisite y ^t I should cōsēt to mine own agréemēt: [Page] and it were maruaile, y ^t I should be so obliuious, as to put away my whole liuing, and not to remēber, when, where, nor to whom: such a thing is not so soone to be forgotten: I might then be counted to be more forgetful than Claudius, who in a fury, being Emperour of Rome, commaunded one of his familiar friendes to be beheaded, and called for the same man the next day to playe with him at Chesse, forget­ting y ^t he had bid that he should be put to death. Wherfore, as you are a righteous Iudge, & know that the Iudge of al Iudges is in heauen, I beséech you, not only to examin the truth of this matter throughly, but also to separate euerye one of these that are come against me, wherby they may not confer any further togither thā they haue done, & that they heare not one anothers examination. To whom the Iud­ges father said, dost thou thinke that my son wil do so much at thy request? no I warrant thée. Father, saide the Iudge, be contented, if your matter be true (as you saye it is) then your separation cannot make you disagrée in truth: There­fore his request is both reasonable & lawful: and if I should not grant it vnto him, I should not only séeme to deale vn­iustly, but also euery one might thinke I were partial, and fully bent to do him wrong to pleasure you withall: so that my louing father, Note this. be not displeased with me, for though o­therwise you may commaunde me, yet in this case I maye commaunde you: you muste consider, that I am nowe two kind of persons, in respecte of my worldly birth, I am your son, & ought to obey you: but in respect of this mine of­fice, I am your Iudge, and you ought to obey me: wherfore I commaund euery one of you to separate your selues: and to the intent my wil herein may be the better performed, I commaunde fiue officers belonging to this court, to waite on you, and to keepe euery of you so far asunder, that no one of you shal talke with an other, neither any of you heare y ^e examinations of an other. Take them Officers vnto you, and kéepe them separately vntill I call for them. Ah son, sayde the Iudges Father, doest thou vse thy Father [Page] thus extreamely? I woulde haue thoughte thou wouldst haue handled mine enemy thus, rather thā me: father, said y ^e Iudge, be contente, he came willinglye as soone as I sente for hym, and here is none, neyther hath he brought any to be examined on his behalfe, as you haue done, neyther doe I commit you in­to these Officers hands as prisoners, but onelye that he maye perceiue, I am willing, to performe his reasonable request: to whom his father aunswered, I wil not be kept of any, I am a­ble to kéepe my selfe, I woulde I had neuer begot thée, An vnfit speech to a Iudge. I am sorie that I came to thée to complain. And I am as sorie father, saide his sonne, that it is my chaunce to be your Iudge. If your matter be right (as I now feare the contrarie) you woulde be as wel content for my credite to graunt your aduersaries law­full desire, as that I should Iudge rightly on youre side. Then saide the father to the Iudge, I will trouble you no further, I and this Gentleman my Landlord, with my witnesses will be gone, I wil haue it tryed in another Court: then said y ^e Iudge, I coulde be right wel content that you should so do, if the Law would permit you: but our Law is, that no maters may be de­termined, but only in that Court that is appointed therefore, & euery matter must be tryed where they are first cōmenced: and now for that you dwel within the circuit of this Court, where I am Iudge, and séeing you haue comenst your matter here a­gainst this Farmer, you can not remoue it from hence if you would. I maruel why you shoulde refuse to haue your matter tried before me your sonne: for as you maye thinke, that e­uery one should here haue their right, so you may be most sure, that I being Iudge, and your most louing Sonne, woulde not suffer you here to take any wrong. Me thinkes this Farmer whom you sue here (that is neither kith nor kin to me) shoulde rather refuse to haue his matter tryed here, than you. But this I wil doe father, for the loue I beare you, and for the greate care I haue of you, I will giue this Farmer an hundred mark out of mine owne purse, to let you enioy his Farme quietlye, whereby neither you shall néede to trouble me nor the Lawe anie further. Then the Iudges father saide churlishlie, I haue [Page] no néede of thy money, I am able to paie for it my selfe: but for that I haue agréed with him once, as my witnesses cā testifie, I will not giue him one pennie more than I haue done: then saide the Farmer, if you shoulde giue me but one peny more than you haue giuen me, then you shoulde giue me but one pe­nie for my good will of my Farme, for I neuer had anie of you yet: and a pennie were to little of conscience for such a Farme as it is, whiche is sufficient to finde me and my wife, and thirtie persons, besides the dailie refreshing of my poore neigh­bours and diuerse straungers: and if you woulde giue me fiue thousand pounde for my good wil of it, yet you should not haue it: for that I and my auncestours haue dwelled in it time out of minde. And if I shoulde put such a good liuing away, which my auncestours haue liued on so long, from my children, euery one might wel say, that I am not worthie to haue such a liuing left vnto me by my Parentes: and whereas they mighte think that as long as I kepte it I hadde some witte, so nowe they mighte well affirme, that I were a foole, or beganne to dote: And therefore I haue neither putte it awaie, neither will consente to putte it awaie. And thoughe my Landlorde be willing to haue a new Tenant, yet I am contente to kéepe stil mine olde Landelord: Therefore séeing I haue not offended him anie waie, nor yet hys newe Tenaunte pleasured him by anie meanes (that I knowe) I feare it will fall out, (if the matter be well ripte, that either he hathe hadde some greater Fine, than I haue offered him, or some greater Rente than I do paie him, or rather both. Wel father, saide the Iudge, I per­ceiue this man wil not depart with his Farme, vnlesse he loose it by the Law. And for that I would haue you friends without Law (if it might be) I beséech you father let me entreate you at this time to be ruled with reason: what would you haue me to do? said he to his son. Marke me and I wil tel you: you haue li­uing ynough, A vertuous Iudge. though you haue not this mās Farme from him, which if you had, I feare you woulde not kéepe the like house on it, that he doth, therefore I woulde wishe you should release [Page] your title you haue in it, from this Gentlemā And if you paid anye Fine for it (whiche you may doe with the consente of the Farmer, so that it be but one yeares Rente) I wil request this Gentleman to giue it you againe: and this his olde Farmer shall giue him the same Fine againe. Howe saye you Farmer, saide the Iudge, are you content therewith? yea sir, said y ^e Far­mer, at your request with al my heart. Then saide the Gentle­man, but you were best know whether I wil take it againe of him or not. And then saide the Iudges father, thoughe you woulde so take it, yet perhappes I woulde not receiue my Fine againe. I praye you father saide the Iudge, sticke not herein: So that you haue your money you layde out for the Fine, you néede not care: Yea marry saide he, so that I hadde my monie that I laide out. Then the Iudge saide, hadde he a­nye more monie of you, than one yeares Rente? I saye not so saide his father, and if I hadde paide him anie more, yet I sette more by the Farme than by the Fine: yea, but father saide the Iudge, I truste you paide him no more, than one yeares Rente: the Gentlemanne saide, no indéede didde he not: then the Iudge saide to the Gentlemanne, I praye you giue my father his Fine agayne, that he gaue you: my Lorde, saide the Gentleman, I haue it not, I haue spent it: thē the Iudge saide againe, are you so contente that the Farmer shall giue him the Fine, that he shoulde giue you? I am plea­sed saide the Gentleman, so that your father will make me a generall quittaunce: no saide the Iudges father, I will make no quittaunce, I haue hyred my Farme, and my Farme I looke to haue: then father, said the Iudge, you are giuen more to will, than to wisedome, and to gaine, more than to godlynesse. Wel séeing y ^e Farmer wil take no mony to forgo his Farme, lette me entreate you to release vppe your Leafe: And by­cause I woulde haue all ended quietlye, I will gyue you fortie pounde out of mine owne purse, so that you wyll doe it: Whereby you maye perceyue that I woulde haue the Farmer to kéepe hys Farme, and you to be no looser, which [Page] Iudges vse not commonly to do. I wil haue none of you sayde the Iudges father, No common vse of Iudges. but if the Farmer wil giue me a hundreth pounde to release my state and title, I am content. Then sayde the Farmer, I wil not giue one penny for it more than my or­dinarie Fine, I wil breake no good custome of this our famous Country. And now my Lord, for that you haue offred too much and all for quietnesse, whiche I sée is for the tender zeale you beare to your father, (though he cannot sée it) let the matter be tryed before you, and he that winnes it by the Law, lette him weare it. Are you so stoute? said the Gentleman, for my parte let it be tryed by the Law: though you thinke my Lorde Iudge doth fauour you, yet assure your selfe, our thrée witnesses and we two are sufficient to ouerthrow you. I trust he will not go against a manifest truth: no said the Iudge, but I would glad­lie if it might be, haue the matter taken vp: yea said the Iudges father, if the Farmers matter wer as true as my son knoweth it is false, he woulde not be so readie to haue the matter ended without Law: Spiteful wordes. at which words, the Iudge beganne to blush, saying, wel father, this something toucheth me, y ^e Farmer said true, when he affirmed that you can not sée the zeale I beare you: and now séeing you haue vrged me, let it fall out as it wil, for the Law shall try it, and nowe you shall sée whether I will beare with falshod or not: saying further, bring my father hi­ther to the Barre, and the Farmer also, but carrie the rest aside vntil I call for them: and then the Iudge saide, father it appea­reth by your Bil of declaration, that such a day, such a month, and in such a place, this Farmer receiued fortie pounde of you, wherefore he did consente and agrée that his Landlord shoulde let you a Lease of the Farme he now dwelleth in, and that you shoulde suffer him, after the ende of your Lease, quietly to pos­sesse and inioy the same. How say you father (sayde the Iudge) is it not so? yes truely saide his father: then feare not father, saide the Iudge (though you haue something missused me) if this be true, you shall haue the Farme and all your desire. Thē saide the Farmer, if that be true, then I will yéelde and he shall haue it, but my Lord if I proue it false, then I trust I shal haue [Page] my Farme still. Yea that you shal, sayd the Iudge, fear it not. Sir if it will please you, saide the Farmer, to send for thrée such of my neighbors, they will come with spéede and something sa­tisfie you in thys matter. Then the Iudge commanded an offi­cer to goe for them, who came presently to the Iudge, and then the Iudge examined euery of them by themselues: and they all agréed, that the same day the said Farmer and they were al the day aboue halfe a dosen miles out of the towne. And then the Iudge saide to the Farmer, how say you sirra, where were you the same day that is mentioned in this Bill of Declaration? Forsooth saide he, I was with the saide thrée men my neibours al the same day half a dosen miles out of the towne: and if they haue tolde you truly, they haue saide no lesse. In déede Farmer you and they agrée al in one. Then said the Iudge to his father, how like you this father? Then his father saide: it was then the next day after I am most sure therof. Then said the Iudge, if you are no surer of the truth of your matter, than you are cer­taine of the day when this bergaine was made, I feare it will fall out but madly on your side. I pray you confesse all where he was the next day after mentioned in this Bill. And then the Farmer and his thrée neighbours saide al at once, that foure or fiue daies then together they were all at the same place in the Countrie, making merrie at one of their friendes marriages. Then the Iudge said, Father, if your mater end no better than it doth beginne, it will not goe very well with you. Then his father saide, all this can not daunt me. Trulie saide the Iudge you like your cause a great deale better than I do. You know, said his father, he hath but thrée witnesses beside him selfe, and I haue other thrée witnesses beside my selfe, and the Gentle­man my newe Landlorde is the fifte, who is able therin to say something. And then the Iudge commaunded the witnesses to be brought before him, whom he asked if they would be sworne to vtter the truth in a matter that he would demaunde of them. And they with one voice saide they would: then they toke their othes before the Iudge, at which time the Iudges father wold haue sworne, but the Iudge would not suffer him. And when [Page] the saide thrée witnesses had sworne, they plainly confessed be­fore the Iudge and all the companie, that they neuer heard the saide Farmer consent and agrée to any such thing. Howe chan­ceth it then, saide the Iudge, that my father doth bring you as witnesses on his side? Forsooth, sayde they, he offered eche of vs a good summe of monie, to beare witnesse against this Farmer in this matter, when he should will vs: but we would take no monie of him, saying we would receiue it of him, when we had done him pleasure: purposing by this meanes, to saue this inno­cent Farmer, if néed should require, from losing of his Farme, as I hope now we do, abhorring in our consciences his wicked practise to betray the innocent. Then the faultles Farmer held vp his eyes to Heauen, and sayd: O Lord I thanke thée: when I came hither, I looked to haue had none other witnesses on my side but onely myselfe, but nowe throughe thy goodnesse, thou haste raysed sixe witnesses to helpe me, besides a most true and vertuous Iudge, whose father hoped to ouerthrow me, through the helpe of his sonne, and thrée witnesses that he procured him selfe: but thou haste broughte his owne witnesses againste him, and they haue made him to fall, by whome he thought to stande. Then the Iudges father hanged downe his heade for shame, and the Iudge his sonne did wéepe euen for sorrowe: saying, O father what a dolefull daye is this? What meante you to committe suche wickednesse? Why didde you come be­fore your louing sonne with such an euill and shamefull cause? Didde you thinke that I, though I be yong, am a Foole? Or did you beléeue that by affection I woulde be woonne and enti­ced to doe wrong? Or thoughte you, that bicause you are my father, you therefore should allure me to falshode? You know that a Iudge ought to bée a father to the fatherlesse, a defender of the innocente, a succourer of the sorrowefull, a protector of the poore, and a helper of those that bée oppressed. Iusticia is portrayed with a vaile before hir eyes, whereby is signified, that true Iustice ought to bée blinde, and not to respect the per­son with the eyes, but the matter with the minde. And also she [Page] hath a paire of Ballances in hir hande: signifying, that as a true Ballance doth weigh equally, so true Iustice shoulde not weigh nor wring on eyther side, vppe nor downe, but equally, according to truthe. Oh what a griefe is it to my heart. You knewe full well that the matter was wrong: and I partely smelled that it was not right. I mysseliked it when you would haue it procéede against him in his absence: You might be sure that when I offred to giue him monie out of mine owne purse to let you haue his Farme, and also monie vnto you to release your interest thereof to him (which I thought was but small) that then I perceiued your matter would not fal out very wel. Oh infortunate father, that doth hurste the hearte of your wo­full sonne. With that his father fell downe on his knées, and with wéeping teares sayde: O sonne, would to God I had followed your counsel, then this shame had neuer come to me: saying to the Farmer, Oh Farmer forgiue me, and desire my sonne to be good vnto me: The Lorde forgiue you sayde the Farmer, I woulde it lay in my power to release you. Then he sayde to his sonne: O my deare sonne bée fauourable vn­to mée. Then the Iudge his sonne sayde, Ryse vppe father and knéele not to mée, it is rather my parte to knéele to you: O fa­ther, when I offered and coulde haue pleasured you, then you woulde not: and nowe that you are desirous and would haue me to do you good, I cannot. You know we haue a seuere King, and our Lawes are extreame and may not be broken: so that if I should moderate Iudgement contrarie to the Law, I should not pleasure you, but vtterly vndo my self. For though I wold spare and fauour you, the King by his espials would heare of it; who therefore would execute mée with al extremitie, and wold punish you with al seueritie: and so I should bring you to grea­ter vexation, and my self to destruction. Therfore father be con­tent, for there is no remedie but that I muste néedes giue suche Iudgement on you, as your offence requireth by the Law. Se­parate my father a little aside, sayde the Iudge, and bring the Gentleman hither.

But by the way I pray you tell me, did the Gentle­man vnderstande howe the matter went?

No forsooth, which you shall perceiue by the sequele: When the Gentlemā was broght to the bar before the Iudge, the Iudge loked on him as pleasantely as he coulde, and sayde, sir I am sorie that this foolishe Farmer hath both troubled this Court, you, and my father, with such a vaine matter, for I per­ceiue by the witnesses, my father, and you, that he consented to the making of my fathers Lease by you, though he wil not ful­ly affirme it: But will you tell me truely of one thing that I shall aske you, sayde the Iudge: to whome the Gentleman aun­swered, Yea sir that I will if I can: But do not fable with mée sayde the Iudge, for if you should make a lie to me in this case, therby you should incurre no smal danger by the Lawe, if it bée knowne: therfore before you speake aduise your self wel: Were you presente, or did you heare this Farmer, when he consented & agréed that you shuld make my father a Lease of his Farme? Wher at the Gentleman mused, and stayde and sayde nothing: Then the Iudge saide, I perceiue you followe my counsell, for you take good aduisement before you speak. Though I bad you be aduised what you saye, yet my meaning was not that you should say nothing, and not to speake at all: Why doe you not answere to my demaunde? If you be sure that you hearde him speake it, what néed you feare to say so? If you did not, then tel me accordingly. But all this whyle the Gentleman would say neuer a word. It seemeth sayd the Iudge, that this my question doth driue him to a narowe strait, for he thinks if he should say that he heard him not speak it, and my father and the other wit­nesses should before affirme the contrarie, then he should bring a great suspition to his matter: If he shoulde affirme that hée heard him speake it, and they before denied it, then he should be punished by the lawe for a Liar. Gentleman, Gentleman, said the Iudge, your being mute shewes you are driuen to a mis­chiefe, and this your silence bringeth a maruellous suspition. This is very strange, that you are thus tong tied so sodainely. Where some marre their matter with speaking too much, you [Page] meane to amende it by holding your peace and saying too little. Wel, seeing you wil not aunswere me, I wil no further trou­ble you therein. I perceiue you did not heare him speake it: whiche you are as loth to vtter, least you should proue them li­ers, which hath confest it, as to tel a lie, for feare of your owne punishment. They needed not to haue called you for a witnesse herein, for they were foure besides you, and fewer are sufficiēt for the trial of truth be the Lawe, yet it had bene most requisite that this Farmer shoulde haue consented to your selfe, for the making of a Lease to my father, considering you coulde not do it without his good wil and agréement, wherein I must néedes say there was a great ouersight in you. But their witnessing of the matter is sufficient, whereby your Lease must néedes be good that you made to my father: but though before you woulde not aunswere by demaunde, yet I beséech you to graunte this my request: what is that? saide the Gentleman (being wel cō ­forted with the Iudges pollitike words) forsooth said y ^e Iudge, this Farmer I perceiue doth mourn, for that he feareth he shal lose his Farme, and the more, for that he hath neuer a house to dwel in, A good policy to try him. whose case I do pittie: And for that I haue gotten my fathers good wil, that he shall haue it againe, I beseech you doe so much at my request, as to make him a lease of the same, & he shall pay you your due Fine therefore, and so you maye repaie my father his fine againe: Wherat he sée [...]d more sad than hée was, and paused a good while, and at length saide: I am verye loth to doe it, he deserueth but small fauour at my hande, ney­ther haue you anie suche cause to speake for him, considering he knewe that youre fathers lease was made with his consent, and yet refused your bountiful offer, saying that he woulde not yéelde his good will therein (whiche as appeareth was as good as nothing) for fiue thousand pounde, though now he is like to lose it for a great deale lesse: wherefore I beséech you perswade me no further therin, for he shal neuer haue it. Wel seeing you wil not do so much for my sake, saide the Iudge, I must néedes thinke my self the lesse beholden to you, the thing is your own, you may do what you wil, I cannot compell you: but hereof [Page] I am sure, if you coulde be as wel contente to take him for your Tenant, as he is to accepte you for his Landlorde, you would not put him from it: and to say trueth, in my hearing he hath curteously vsed himself towards you, and before as I am credibly informed, wherby you haue no cause to be so ernest a­gainst him. You know that none can giue you a greater Fine nor more Rente than he doeth, and therefore there is no reason, why you should be so desirous, to put forth your olde auntiente and honest Tenaunt, No reason in­deede. for a new Tenant, without any commo­ditie, whose conditions and honestie, you haue not so wel try­ed. Marke the sentence of Christ, which is: Whatsoeuer you would that other doe to you, doe euen the same to them: cō ­sider if you were his Tenaunte in this case, and he were your Landlord, would you be content that he shoulde turne you out of his house, and let it to another? I thinke you would not: ther­fore as you would not haue Christ to turne you out of his house in Heauen, Good counsel. so turne not this your poore Tenaunt out of youre house on earth. Though I woulde graunte it him, saide the Gentleman, I thinke your father woulde not release his right therein: I tolde you before, saide the Iudge, that I had gotten my fathers good will therein, therefore if you will graunt him your good will, I shoulde thinke my self much bound vnto you: sir, said the Gentleman, for that he hath yeelded vp his interest, I wil be aduised th [...]in, it maye be that hereafter vppon some better consideration, I may be allured, but as yet I will not. Now sayde the Iudge, that you haue giuen me a full answere, I know wheretoo to trust: but séeing you thinke you haue done with me, I muste procéede further, for I haue not done with you. Bicause you are so straight laced against your honest Far­mer, and that you are so desirous to haue my father your Te­naunt, and to put him out, it is impossible but something doeth driue you to do it: for as I said before, if you haue no gret Fine nor more Rent for it, than you had of this man, there is no re­son to lead you to change your honest known Tenant, in whō you can finde no fault (as you confessed before) for a straunger whose conditions you know not: therefore I am fully perswa­ded, y ^t you haue or shal haue a greater Fine, or more Rente, or [Page] rather both, than you should haue of this Farmer, as before he wisely surmised: wherefore tel me truely & lie not, as you will auoide y ^e danger therof, how much did my father giue you for a Fine? then the Gentleman saide, he gaue me no more, thā one yeres Rēt of my Farme: take heede said the Iudge, y ^t you make not a lie: you were better to lie twice before some other than once before me: Great presum­ptions. lyes are dear wares I tel you in this Coūtry: bicause my father was so loth to take this Farmers Fine, for y ^e Fine he gaue you, it made me iudge y ^t the same did not amoūt to his Fine by a great deale: & bycause you required a quittāce of my father, wherby you wold haue y ^e one discharge the other, it shewed y ^t the Fine receiued of my father, was muche more than your Tenants, which he shou [...]d repay to my father, or els why should either you desire a quittance of my father, or he re­fuse to make you a quittance therefore? The presumptions are such, which before I haue alleaged, y ^t it is almost impossible but y ^t the greatnes of the Fine, did allure you to let it to my father▪ And be [...]ds y ^t, to tel you flatly, my father hath be wrayde youre Fine to me, which I am sure in this case would neither lye on himself nor on you: therfore it is but a follie to conceale it, for it was spoken before too manie now to be hid. Therfore tel me truely, and lye not, for if you do, you shal pay for a double lye, which wil be smal to your ease: what Fine did my father giue you to make him a Lease? nay, speake the truth and shame the Diuel, the sum was too great for you to forget: you were better tel truth & to auoide the danger of lying, than to tell a lye, & ne­uerthelesse the truth be knowen. Then the Gentleman gaue a great sigh, and said nothing. Gentleman, said the Iudge, your holding of your peace is as good as a grāt, say either yea or nay, for I am indifferent: but this I tel you before, y ^e Fine is confest y ^t he paid, therfore it is but follie to go about to hide y ^t, y ^t cānot be hid, answere me one way or other. Then saide the Gentle­man, hath he confest it indéede? he hath brokē promise with me: but séeing he hath confest he didde giue it, I wyll also con­fesse I receyued it. Howe muche was there of it saide the Iudge, forsooth it was two hundred pounde in gold, said he: but [Page] if I had thoughte your father woulde haue kept his own coun­sel no better, he shoulde neither haue had my Farme, nor I woulde haue had his Fine. I doubt that this great Fine, sayd the Iudge, went not without enhauncing of the Rent, I praye you therefore tell me truely, shoulde not my father haue paide you more Rent, than this your Farmer doth: no truely, sayde the Gentleman, and if you will not truste me, I haue the coun­terpaine of the Lease, here to shewe: and with that, he toke out of his bosome the Lease and shewed it to the Iudge, wherein there was no more Rente to be paide, then the auntiente and olde Rente, whiche the Farmer confest to be true: and then the Iudge, espying the ende of a Paper sticke out of his bosome, which was by the meanes of taking out his Lease, The hanging out of a Paper brought out the truth. saide to the Gentleman, what writing is that, that hangs out of youre bo­some: doth not that writing belong to your bargaine? at which time he durst not aunsweare for feare of lying, let me sée it I pray you? saide the Iudge: whereto the Gentleman was verye loth, but there was no remedie▪ the Iudge woulde néedes see it: which when the Iudge had redde, he saide to the Gentleman: here is a great Bil of debt, it séemeth hereby that my father o­weth you a greate deale of money, but I feare either you can­not, or wil not tel wherfore he doth owe it you. This is a verie straunge debt that is one & xx. yeares a paying: I pray you tell me, wherfore doth my father owe you thus muche as is contai­ned in this Bill? the summe is not so smal, but that you maye wel remember what you sold him for it. Well séeing you will not speake, I smell wherfore it is: Farmer, saide the Iudge, what Rent didst thou paye to this Gentleman euery half yere? forsooth saide he, I payde tenne Crownes at euery halfe yeare: and at what dayes, sayd the Iudge, did you paie youre Rente? Truly, sayde the Farmer, at Michaelmasse, and at the Annun­tiation of Marie the Uirgin. Nowe I perceiue I gest truely, saide the Iudge, for it is manifeste hereby, that this great Fine went not without enhauncing of the Rent, for, as much Rēt as is to be paide by the Lease euery half yere, so much, and euerye halfe yere, at the same dayes and times during the Lease, is to [Page] be paide by this Bil: which apparantly sheweth, that this Gen­tleman hath rackt his Rent as much more as it was. It is not for nothing, that the Cat winketh when both hir eyes are out: so here it appeareth what was the cause that you and my father were so loth to vndoe your bergaine and graunt. If this great Fine and this raising of the Rente hadde not bene, you woulde not haue bene so earnest against this your Farmer, neither yet would you haue denied me my request as you did: but now to be plaine with you, wheras you thought that this Farmer was ouercome and vanquished by your witnesses, and that he should lose his Farme, it is fallen oute cleane contrarie, for the wit­nesses that you brought to confounde him, haue condemned you, through Gods good prouidence. Therfore that, that I did, was by policie, to make you beleue you had ouercom this Far­mer, to fetch you further in and to see how you would haue vsed him if you had preuailed. Your denying of my request hath gai­ned you nothing: for if you had gently enclined to my desire, & béen willing to shew this Farmer fauor at my request (though he stode in no such néede of it) perhaps I would not haue sifted you so néerees I did. Thus you may learne, that the graunting of a trifle at some time, It is true. is better than perfourming of a weigh­tie matter at another time. And nowe though you meante mis­chief to your Farmer: God hath tourned it and muche more to your selfe. You thought to haue vndone him by enriching your selfe, but you haue not hurt him, but shamed and empouerished yourself. Though my fathers couetousnesse made him offer you such a Fine: yet you should haue had more wit, than to haue re­ceiued the same. O sir, saide the Gentleman, there was a great fault in him, bicause he did offer it: then said the Iudge, as great a fault was in you, bicause you did take it. Then he said again, If he had not offered it, I should not haue taken it. To whome the Iudge saide againe: And if he had thought you woulde not haue receiued it, he would not haue proff [...]ed it. You are a Gen­tleman, and as I vnderstand, of good knowledge and learning, whereby you shoulde rather haue counselled him to goodnesse, than consented to him in wickednesse. O sir, saide the Gentle­man, [Page] it was long ere I would yéeld vnto him, and I tolde him all the daunger of it. Then sayd the Iudge, you haue bewrayed your own follie: héerby it appereth that you were in more fault than he, Marke this. that knew the dangers, and did fall into those dangers: a foule shame it were for one to giue another warning of a pit, and to fall into the same pit himself. He committed that euil to which he enticed you: but you committed that myschief, which you aduised him to shunne. Then the Iudge called for his fa­ther to be brought before him, and when his father came, the Iudge sayde: O what an infortunate sonne am I, that must be enforst to giue iudgement against mine owne father? natural affection willeth me to pleasure my father: but the obedience to my Prince doth persuade me to punish my father. I am so wrapt in the net of necessitie, that there is no way to auoid the mischief. If I giue iudgement on this Gentleman as he doth deserue, and saue my father from that he deserueth: then I shal not onely be a partiall Iudge, and so a false Iudge: but also I shall therby procure mine own confusion. If I giue true iudge­ment, as a iust Iudge ought to do, then many wil detract mée & speak euil of me, yea and when they sée me goe in the stréet, wil point at me, saying: Behold the wicked and hard-harted sonne, that gaue cruell iudgement against his owne father. Well, of two euils the least is to be chosen, I were better to please God, and obey my Prince in iudging truly, than to auoid slanderous reportes of the witlesse by iudging vniustly. O how loth I am to do that I am enforst to do. And with that, this yong & notable Iudge began to wax very pale, and so swounded and fell out of his chaire, whome euery one then present thought to be dead.

But he died not (I hope) for it had bin great pittie he should, for that he was both wise, learned, & a righteous Iudge.

No, they recouered him at that time, but they were enforst to carie him home presently, as one liker to die thā liue.

What became then of the Gentleman, & his father?

They were both committed to prison vntill the next day, when another Iudge gaue iudgement against them. They had the law extréemly executed on them, for their making hurt­full [Page] lies before the Iudge, A good iudge­ment for those that hyre Hou­ses from their neighbours. according as in our former talk I de­clared to you: besides that, the Gentleman for taking that Fine, and the Iudges father for giuing y ^e Fine, gaue the fourth part of all their goods, wherof the King had the one half, & the other half was solde and equally distributed among their poorest nei­bors. And the Iudges father for hiring his neibors Farm with out his co [...]sente, and the Gentleman for letting it without his Tenants consente, had their Houses and Groundes belonging to them taken from them, and were let to their next porest nei­bor for the space of .vij. yeares. And bicause the Gentleman did dwell in his owne fréelande, the Farmer therof paide his Rent to the Gentlemans wife, for the mainteining of hir and hir chil­dren. And there was a proclamation made, that whosoeuer did let or set either House or Ground to either of them for the space of .vij. yéeres, should forfet their House they dwelled in, and the Ground belonging to the same, to the King. And moreouer, the Iudges father did weare on his backe and bosome for the saide terme of .vij. yeares, these words folowing: This man practised to put his neighbour out of his House.

Truly he had bene better to haue bene content with his olde, than in that sort to haue hyred a new House. Surely I like the law wel, but I like the executing of it better: I beséech you tell me, had the Gentleman no moe Houses to dwell in.

Yes he had one other of his owne, else he shuld hard­ly haue hired one: for few would haue bene his Landlord, ther­by to make themselues no Landlordes.

But what iudgemente was giuen on them for en­hancing of the Rent?

Truly the Gentleman for the same was adiudged, to receiue for .vij. yeares but one halfe of the Rents of all his Lan­des: and the other halfe was yearely so long employed on pore mennes children, to traine them vppe in learning. And the sayde two Hundreth poundes that the Iudges father gaue vn­to the Gentleman for a Fine, was equally giuen and distribu­ted among the thrée witnesses that vttred the truth on the Far­mers side.

Out of doubt this matter was well and wisely han­dled, the yong Iudge was worthie to be commended, the offen­ders had that they deserued, and the thrée honest witnesses wer condignely rewarded. Our countrie is not altogither barren of good Landlords and Gentlemen, besides our famous and wor­thie Prince, which do take very easie Fines, & neuer enhaunce any Rentes.

Then I perceiue your Prince and such Landlordes can lack no Tenants, no more than your great Benefices can lack Parsons or Uicars. I would iudge, that such as pay smal Fines and haue their Farmes by the olde Rent, that they are a great help to the pore Artificers that dwell nigh them.

Wherin do you thinke that they should be such help to them?

Forsothe in the selling of their corne, cattell, milke, butter, and chéese, with their other profites that doe rise of their olde rented Farmes.

Howe so I pray you?

Bicause they doe sell the same a greate deale better cheap (as good reason is) than they do, that pay such great Fines and rackt Rentes.

In déede it were great reason they should so doe, but they that haue their Farmes by the olde Rente, doe rather sell their corne and cattell more deare than the other: sor they ha­uing no such néede, Against rea­son. do keep their corne and cattel, and other pro­fits vntil they be more scarce and dearer, and so do sel the fame to the most aduauntage. Yea beside that, they are so gréedie, that if they may haue but one halfpennie in a Bushel ten or twelue miles off, they wil carie it thither, rather than their neighbors shall haue it that dwell within a mile of them, though somtime they haue lesse there than they might haue had at home. And the poore Tenantes, that pay great and excessiue Fines, and rackt Rentes, are of necessitie constrained to sell their corne afore­hande, yea perhappes halfe a yeare before it be ripe, whereby for readie monie they haue not the halfe it is worth. And fur­thermore they are constrained daily to carie their commodities [Page] to the market, as soone as they are readie: so that theirs are all solde, and perhaps they are readie to buie, before the other that haue their Farmes by the olde Rent begin to sell.

Surely it is pittie it should be so suffred: there riseth a great inconuenience therby. They that should help to ease the poore, are an occasion of empouerishing the poore: and they that haue their Farmes cheapest, do sel their commodities dearest.

It is so: they that kéep their corne, butter, and chéese vnto the laste ende, doe saye, that were it not for the kéeping of their corne in store with their other profits, the markets would be vnserued: so that it is for a Common wealth, and that ther­fore they are to be commended.

Their wordes shewe fairer than their déedes do de­clare. I would say that they meant wel, and that they did it for a Common wealth, if they did sell then their corne and cōmo­dities by the same price (or cheaper) as the other sold theirs that first serued the markets, or that were driuen to sel soon, to serue their necessitie. But bicause they sel them dearer, it is manifest that they kéep their corne and cōmodities so long vnsold, rather for their own gaine, than for the commoditie of their Countrie. Such an enormitie would not be suffred with vs.

That, and many moe are daily permitted with vs. Well, thoughe your Countrie excéeds all the Countries in the Worlde, for good Landlordes: yet we haue diuers, as I said be­fore, that are so godlie and zealous, that they will neyther raise their Rentes, neither put out any of their Tenantes, vnlesse it be for some great and woorthie cause. And amongest all others I will tell you of one, whose example I would to God that ma­nie would followe.

You haue told me of diuers abuses in your Countrie, tell me nowe of one good example.

With all my heart. I heard it credibly tolde, that a noble man with vs of great fame, of good report, and generally welbeloued, had a certaine Tenant, who though he hadde his Farme without Fine, and by the olde Rent, yet prospered but meanely ther [...]: nigh whom, or not very farre off, diwelled one [Page] more gréedie than godlie, An excellent example of a good Landlord and more couetous than charitable, that went to the owner of thesame Farme: who when he came to him, saide: It may please your Honour to vnderstande, that you haue a Farme in such a place, and such a man dwelleth in it, if you will be so good as to let mée be your Tenante, I will giue you thus much for a Fine. I can not lette it vnto you, sayd the owner of the Farm, for there is a Tenant in it alredy, whō I would be loth to put out. Sir, said the fellow, he is a very yll husband, and he doth not thriue on it: & surely I thinke he either doth not pay you his Rente, or else shortly I feare he wil not be able to pay it. Trowest thou so? said the Lord of the Farme, be­like he is an il husband, for he hath his Farme cheape ynough. Wel, said the Nobleman, come to me such a day, and I wil thē talk further with thée. And so the same Caterpiller that desired his neighbours Farme departed. After which the said Noble­man sent for his Tenant, to whome he said when he was come to him: sirra I vnderstand that you are a very ill husbande, and can not thryue on the Farme that you haue of me. And more­ouer that you do not pay me my Rent: and that within a while you will not be able to pay it, you runne so farre behinde hand. I beséech your Honour, said the Tenant, to credit no further of me than I deserue: the truth is, & I must confesse, that I haue not much prospered on it, but the same is neither through negli­gence nor ill husbandry: for my stock is much decresed through the death of my Cattell, besides many other great losses & hin­drances that I haue had: but as for your Rent, what shift so e­uer I made, I thank God, I haue alwayes paide it from time to time, and neuer haue bene behinde withal, nor I trust neuer to be: which if you wil not credit, your Bailie, I am sure, will not deny, but that he hath at euery Rent day receiued it. Then saide the Nobleman, if it be so as you say, I am the more glad. I am sure you payde no Fine for it, neither haue I raised your Rente, therefore it would gréeue me if you should not thriue on it, especially through euil husbandrie. As for losses otherways, as the death of your Cattel and other casualties, you must be cō ­tent and giue God thanks therfore: God can & will prosper you [Page] better when it pleaseth him: wherefore take paciently & thank­fully what he doth send, for pouertie and riches come both from him. And if you decay or be empouerished, so it be not by your own follie, you shal not want aide of mée, therfore play the good husband. The Lord saue your life, said his Tenant. Then sayd the Nobleman: thou maist sée I haue dealt well with thée, for I haue bin offred roundly, to displace thée, which some would not haue refused. And bicause thou shalt be sure this is true, come such a day to me, and thou shalt heare more: but be of good chéer, for neither monie nor frendship shall allure me: & sée thou faile not to be with me as I haue apointed thée. Wherwith his pore Tenant was faine, and went merily away.

What followed then? procéed on in your tale.

At the day apointed they both came as he willed thē, but before the gréedie Fine-offrer came, the poore Tenant was placed priuily behinde a cloth, where he might heare what was said. And then the Nobleman said: welcom my frend, hast thou brought me the monie that thou offredst me for a Fine for my Farme? to whome he gladly answered, Yea sir that I haue: to whom the Nobleman saide, I perceyue thou knewest I lacked monie, & so I do in déed, it could not come in a better time than now. But I pray thée tel me one thing, is my Tenante an vn­thrist or an yll husband that now hath it? Yea truly sir, said he, he is a very pore man, and far behind hand, and it is thought he wil not in a whyle be able to pay the Rente. I tell you for good wil & as you shall finde it. If it be so, said he, I am beholding to thée: wel, it is méet to haue witnesses at our bergaine: and ther­with his pore Tenant came from behinde the cloth, who heard all that was spoken: whom when the other saw, he was some­thing amased, thinking then that al was not well. And then the Nobleman sayde to his Tenante, you may sée sirra that I may haue a good fine for my Farme of this man, wheras I had none of thée, who though he giue me a Fine for it, yet hopeth to pro­sper on it, though thou without a Fine canst not prosper ther­on. Besides that, this man telleth me that thou arte not able to pay me my Rent: nay it should séem that it is vnpayde already. [Page] Sir, saide the poore Tenant, I haue hearde euerie worde what he hath said, he speaketh it rather of malice to put me out of my Farme, than of any truth or good ground. I haue tried that al­readie, said the Nobleman. Then with an angrie countenance he turned towards him, that offred him the Fine to put out his Tenant, Marke this saying. and saide: Ah Uarlet, hast thou such an opinion in me that monie shall make me to doe that which charitie forbiddeth me to doe? Didst thou euer heare, that I was louer of brybes, or an vndoer of my Tenants, or so gréedie of gain, that I wold hinder the poore? How durst thou be so bolde, to procure me to that, that I haue always abhorred? Thou knowst that I haue always desired to succour the poore, and thinkest thou that mo­nie can cause me to make my poore Tenantes beggars? Thou mightst iudge that I were maruelously changed, to beggar my Tenants to enrich thée withall. What Diuel did driue thée to dē [...]e this drift? I vnderstand that thou hast too much liuing, and mor [...] than thou bestowest wel: and this my poore Tenante hath to little, and bestowe & that w [...]ll that he hath. Suche cut-throwe as thou art haue mony ynough to vndoe your poore nei­bors withal, but you haue none to do good: thou willingly wilt giue .xx. l. to thrust thy brother out of his Farme: but thou wilt [...] to giue .xx. grotes for the defense of thy Cuntrie. O if e­uery one were of my minde, and regarded your monie no more than I do: so many should not be thrust out of their Houses as be. Then the wicked Fine offerer saide, I beséech you forgiue me, I am sorie I haue offended you, this shall be a warning to me as long as I liue for going aboute to take any mans House or Farme from him. And then he was about to depart: nay, said the Nobleman, I wil not so leaue thée, thy faulte deserueth not so to escape: oh that there were a Law to hang vp such as thou, who in my conscience deserue more to be hanged, than the théef that doth steale for néed. They steale through necessity, but thou and such as thou, steale with superfluitie. And the théef through néed doth rob a man of a little monie in his purse, but thou and such as thou steales néedlesse, and robbes a man, his wife, and children of al the liuing they haue. Therfore by your leaue, you [Page] shal not escape my hands so.

What did he with him then I pray you?

He caused him to be openly set in the stocks, wherby his doings was not onlie blased abroade, but also manys won­dred at him, for his vncharitable doing.

I thinke none that heard of it woulde proffer anye Fines to y ^e worthy man, to displace any of hys Tenants. Doth hée that handled y ^e Fine-giuer thus, fauour Gods word or not?

Yea that he doth, and that mightily.

It appeareth Gods worde taketh roote, and worketh great effect with some of your Countrey.

With some say you? nay with a great sort thanks be to God, and I hope it wil worke more effecte ere it be long. I woulde faine know of you, whether anie of your Landlordes, exact on their Tenaunts, to giue them certaine boone daies to plowe their ground: and to be readie when they commaunde thē, to help with their Weanes or Cartes to carrie home their Wood, Hay, Corne, or other things when they stand in néede.

Truelie none with vs knowe what boone daies doe meane, They of Mauq­sun know not what boone dayes do mean. none with vs doe trouble their Tenaunts, to carrie a­nie thing for them: for the Gentlemen and other of greater li­uings, haue carriages of their owne, to serue their owne turne: for they thinke their Tenants stand more in néede of helpe thā they, marrie they vse their tenaunts so curteouslie, and loue thē so heartilie, that their Tenants offer of their own good wils to helpe them with their carriage, but they moste commonlie re­fuse it, and will not suffer them to doe it, vnlesse in a time of great necessitie, for they wil not hinder their Tenaunts to ple­sure themselues. They know that one daies carriage (especial­lie at some time) will hinder a poore man, therfore if they haue not carriage ynough of their owne, to doe their businesse, they will rather hier other mens Carts with their money, than to hinder their Tenaunts, Few Landlords do so. to saue their monie: nay, there are ma­nye Gentlemen and other of higher degrée with vs, that haue mo Cartes and Plowes, with Cattel to furnish the same, than will doe their owne businesse, euen purposelie to aide and help [Page] their pore Tenantes and neyghbours therewith, when they stande in néede: and a poore man cannot so soone haue an Oxe, a Horsse, or a Cow, miscarrie, but wel is he that can bring them first another Oxe, Cow or Horsse, to help their want withal.

And is this commonly vsed with you?

Yea truly almost in euery place.

And with vs it is almost in neuer a place: I perceiue that all degrées folowe Gods word so earnestlye and zealouslye with you, y ^t therfore it excéedeth al the countries in the world. I wil not say but there may be some one good man here & there with vs, y ^t if a pore mā haue an Oxe, Cow, or Horse, miscarrie, wherby their Plow is like to stand stil, or their children want milke, wil lende thē, or perhaps sel thē vpon a price, to be paide at a day, a Cow, Oxe, or Horse, to supplie their necessitie: but to giue thē a Horse, Cow, or Oxe in that case, I feare there are verie fewe. Marry I thinke there are mo, that are so gréedie of their Rente or of their debtes, that if a poore man be behinde with his Rente, or lacke money to paie his debtes, will rather plucke awaye one of his Kine from him, or an Oxe, or Horsse from his Plowe, whereby his Plowe shall stande stil, or hys children wante milke: of this sort I thinke we haue moe than of the other. I perceiue then that the Tenauntes with you are not muche troubled with their Landlords, for carriage.

No verily, I haue tolde you the verie vse of our coun­trey therein. I woulde all the Tenants in your Country were no worse vsed in this behalfe, nor in anye other than ours be.

I would they were not: some of our Tenants wold thinke they were well, if they were but halfe so wel vsed. But thogh some with vs be wel vsed: yet I am sure that al with vs wil neuer so wel be vsed. I wil tel you a prettie storie touching this matter if you wil be content to heare it.

Yes I will both heare it, and marke it attentiuely: therfore begin it when you wil.

There was a Nobleman had a gret deale of timber or stone, to be carried, for certain buildings y ^t he had in hande: whervpon he was constrained to send to all his Tenants that [Page] were any thing nie him, & other of his friends besids, to request thē to help him w ^t the cariage: which to do, some wer verie loth, & some promised with a faire outward shew, though inwardly they were vnwilling, but few or none durst denay, for feare of his displeasure: wherby at y ^e day appointed he had a great cōpa­nie of Carts, y ^t brought the stones or timber for his saide buil­ding: & when they had al vnloded, he called vnto him them that came with the Carts one by one, saying vnto thē: I thanke you my friends, for the paines and trauel you haue taken wyth me this day. And thē he said to one of thē: now tel me truly I pray you, whether did you help me with your Cart to day, for loue or for monie? forsooth my Lord said he, I came to you for good will & loue: I thanke you said he, carrie him in and let him dine ere he go, (for he had prepard a dinner for all thē y ^t came to him for loue & good wil) & then he said to another of thē: I pray you flat­ter not with me but tel me truly, whether you did come to help me this day, for loue or for mony? forsooth said he, I came to help your Lordship only for loue and good wil: I thanke you said he euen with al my heart: carrie him in & let him dine ere he goe. Then he asked another whether he came to helpe him for loue or for mony: my Lord said he, I am a verie poore mā, & I might verie ill haue come this day but for pleasuring your Lordship, therfore I came for mony: & monie shalt thou haue said he, and god a mercie too: & then he gaue him mony for his labor: carrie him in, said the Lord, & let him drinke ere he go, & so he drunke ere he went. So that they dined y ^t came for loue, & they drunke & had money, y ^t came for mony, & thus he went through & asked a great sort: and some said they came for loue, & some said they came for money. At last he came to one of the Carters, and said: I pray thée good fellow tel me truely, whether didst thou helpe me this day for loue or for mony? shal I tel you truly my Lord? said he: yea I pray thée hartily said y ^e Lorde: truelye my Lorde saide he, I came for neither loue nor money: didst thou not saide the Lorde, wherfore camest thou then? forsooth my Lorde saide he, I came for feare: nowe god a mercie good fellowe, saide the Lorde, I thinke thou haste tolde me truer than [Page] all the rest, I perceiue thou haste not fabled with me, thoughe manie of them haue flattered with me: carrie him in, saide he, for he shall haue both money and meate, and sée in any wise y ^t he sit at the vpper ende of the Table: and so he had both meate and monie and greate thankes of the Lorde, for his true say­ing.

Nowe surelie he was a good fellowe, I dare saie he spake as he thought, wheras few of them thought as they said. There are manie I think in your country, that help their Lād­lordes with their Waines and Cartes, more for feare than for monie, & more for mony than loue: but all the Tenants euerie one in our countrie (none excepted) doe helpe their Landlordes onlie for loue, and neither for monie nor feare.

Surelie it appeareth thereby (if you had said nothing else) that your Landlords are godlie, and your Tenauntes are louing. Now sir let me go further with you: do your Gētlemē and rich men take and enclose their Commons, from the pore Artificers, Labourers, or from them that dwell in smal Tene­ments and Cattages?

I maruel why you doe aske me such a questiō: I told you before that our Landlordes and al other, did not only so re­member the short sentence of Christ and follow it, (whiche is) Do as you would be done vnto, that they will doe nothing to their Tenaunts, nor to any other, but as they would that they should do to them: and do you thinke that if they were Tenāts & their Tenāts their Lādlords, that they wold wish they shold enclose their Commons from them? no I warrante you. Naie our Gentlemen and Landlords, do not enclose their Commons from their poore Tenantes, The enclosing of the Cōmons in Mauqsun. but enclose their Cōmons for their poore Tenants.

That is very straunge, I pray you let me heare your further meaning therein.

The taking in and inclosing of the Commons with vs, is such a commoditie to the pore Tenantes and Farmers, that they are maruellous desirous to haue their [...] en­closed.

And contrary, much inclosing of the Commons with vs, is such an empouerishing of the pore Tenāts and many Farmers, that nothing doeth vexe or gréeue them more than the taking in of the Commons.

Yea, but if your Gentlemen, Landlords and your inclosers of Commons woulde doe as they doe with vs, then your pore men, commoners & other Farmers, would desyre to haue their Commons inclosed and taken in as well as we.

I pray you tell me, after what sorte therefore, is your Commons taken in and made seuerall?

I will tell you: but firste by the way, when poli­tike heads and wise wittes, had considered and found out, that it woulde be maruelous profitable for oure countrey, to haue their Commons inclosed, they began to procure to bring it to passe, but it séemed so hurtefull to dul heades, for the poorer sorte and the Farmers, that they in no wise woulde graunt vnto it, for that they had all the commodi­tie thereby, and the Lords of the soile and Gentlemen had little or none: thinking they would haue al or the best part from them, if they shoulde be enclosed. But the Lords of the soile, and the Gentlemen with the wiser heades per­suaded them, Good counsel. saying: You sée good fellowes, and our louing Tenants, we haue euer loued you and vsed you well, and as we woulde do to you, so we woulde haue you to doe to vs, if we were in your case: be not therfore wedded to your wil [...]es, but rather regarde good counsell and reason. We sée you haue among you much ground and little gaine, much toile and small profite: Sommer can scant gette you that which Winter consumes: If eche of you had but the thirde part of your ground enclosed, that you haue nowe in Com­mon, it woulde féede you moe cattel, bring you more hay, yéelde you more corne, and laste you much longer: whereby you shoulde haue more profite, and lesse paine, and more pleasure, and lesse toile. Some of you that haue store of fodder, woulde staye from putting in youre cattel into the [Page] Commons, vntill the grasse were well growne, and fully sprung: other of you that haue not to féede your cattel with­all, wil not consent to [...]arry so long, being driuen through necessitie to putte youre cattell on the Commons before it haue a head: so that sodainely you shoue on suche a num­ber of cattell, on a greate deale of ground, but a smal deale of grasse, that, what with their hungrie eating, and theyr greate trampling, your Commons is consumed in a mo­neth, the thirde parte whereof inclosed, would haue serued well a quarter of a yere. And whereas the one halfe of your Arrable ground and Medowes, are common euerye yeare, for euerie mans cattel to go and féede on: if the same be in­closed and seuerall to your selues, your Medows wil beare you Hay euery yeare: and you may sowe your Arrable land euery yere, or as ofte as you liste, according to the goodnesse of youre grounde: so that by this inclosure, you shal haue yerely a maruellous commoditie and profite, more than e­uer you had before. Wherefore, if you will be ruled by vs, as you may well credite vs, Fewe suche Landlordes. (for we feare God so muche, that we hadde rather hurt our selues than hinder you) wée that are Lords of your soile and Ground, wil be content to set men on work, to inclose al your Commons and Groūd in such parcels as we thinke méete: and we, of our owne costes and charges, wil pay for the inclosing thereof: partly for that we woulde haue you to prosper and thriue on oure Ground: and partely for that many of you haue not money to lay out: and if we be too muche burthened thereby, you may, if you shall thinke good hereafter, of your owne good will, as you are able, (not that we can claime it of duetie) something ease vs. And if when it is inclosed, you mislike our dealings therein, or that we haue not done vnto you, as we woulde in the like case you shoulde doe vnto vs, throwe downe the ditches then a Gods name, and kéepe it in com­mon, as you did before. And when they had made an ende of their saying, their Tenants hearing them speake so rea­sonably, & offering thē such curtesie, said al with one voyce: [Page] O worthy Gentlemen, and our most louing Landlords, do whatsoeuer séemeth good vnto you: if you lack Ground or a­ny thing that we haue, take what you will, and leaue vs what you list, for we are sure you meane vs no harme, but pretend our profite.

What did the Gentlemen and their Landlordes then I pray you?

What did they say you? as thoughe they woulde breake their promise. Though you thinke that many wyth you promise much, and performe little: there are none with vs but that wil promise little and performe muche. And therfore you néede not doubt, but they did as they said: for when the time of the yere did serue, they sette a number of pore men on worke, whiche did not onely ditche it in suche conuenient parcels, pastures & closes as they did appoint: but also they did set the same with quicke-sets, and so they paide them their hyre out of their owne purses.

The quicke setting of it might haue bene spared, vntil they had séene that their Tenauntes woulde haue li­ked well of their doings or distributing the Ground, or not.

No, they neuer doubted their misliking of it, for they were sure, that their Tenauntes were so reasonable, so tractable, and of suche contented mindes, that they woulde not throwe it downe againe, but accept their do­ings moste thankfully and louingly.

So they might wel ynough: yet I beléeue there are some with vs, Note here so vnreasonable, so insensible, so intra­ctable, so incredible, so wilfull, so mistrustfull, prefer­ring will before witte and custome before reason, and re­garding theyr confused Commons, that bring pouerty and paine, more than necessarie inclosure, that bringeth profite and ease, that if wisemen shoulde offer them so, or their Landlords shoulde proffer them so, that woulde not take it thankefully, but refuse it obstinately. What distribution [Page] was made thereof among the Tenauntes, when the same was inclosed?

Such as I am sure you wil not mislike. The diui­sion of y ^t inclosed was on this sort: euery one according to y ^e proportion and stint of the cattell allowed him to kéepe on the Common, (whiche stinte was suche, as that Commons shoulde not be ouercharged) had so muche inclosed ground allotted and appointed to his house or Farme, as woulde very well kéepe and finde so manye cattell moe, A good distri­bution. as he was allowed or stinted to kéep on the Commons: as if he might kepe ten Kine or Oxen, he had so much ground of y ^e inclosed cōmon as would kepe or finde xx. kine or oxen: & if he might kepe six horses on the Common, he had so much Cōmon in pasture, as would kéepe or finde twelue horses. And if one might kéepe an hundreth shéepe of the Common, he had so muche inclosed Common allowed him as would very wel kéepe and finde two hundreth shéepe: And if a poore Cotta­ger myght by his stint kéepe a couple of Kine on the Com­mon, then he hadde as muche of the Commons inclosed annexed to his Cottage, and so to remaine for euer, as woulde kéepe or finde him foure Kine. And thus euerye Farmer, and euery Tenaunt, Cottager and other, had so muche inclosed grounde of the Commons allowed them to belong to their houses and Farmes for euer, as woulde very wel kéepe and find so many cattell moe as he was al­lowed and stinted to kepe on the bare vnclosed Commons, and that such inclosed grounde as lay most nearest and ne­cessarie to their house or Farme. And euerye Farmer and Tenaunt besides, had all their arrable lande and medowe inclosed that did belong to their Tenemēts and Farmes, which before lay open and in commō: so that by this inclo­sing of their groūd, they had and haue yerely, a maruelous commoditie and profite, more than euer they hadde before. And for that thereby their commodities were so muche en­creased yerely, out of euery twentie acres of Medowe and arrable land that belonged to any Farme, was taken and [Page] reserued one acre: and out of euery tenne acres, halfe an a­cre: whereof euery Cottage that had neither arrable lande nor Medowe belonging thereto, had two acres of inclosed Arrable land, and one acre of Meadowe inclosed, annexed to the same, to finde the pore Tenaunt bread corne, and Hay to succoure hys Kyne or other cattell withall.

Hereby it séemeth, that the Lords charges of the soile was very great, in the inclosing of al these Commons and other grounde.

Their charges were not so great, but the gaines were greater: for all the reste of the inclosed grounde that did remain, the Lords had the same fréely to thēselues: whi­che besides the greate profite to the Tenants, was no smal commoditie to them. For some Lordes of the soile, hadde within their Lordships, two or thrée thousand acres of waste or common grounde, whereof none knewe any par­ticular portion belonging to their house or Farme, whyche before was little or no profite to the Lordes of the soile: but being inclosed it was no small portion that came to theyr share. And thus they got themselues much grounde which they neuer hadde before: and made their Farmers and Te­nantes liuings better than euer they were.

Surely this order of inclosing of the Commons in your Countrey, The commoditie of inclosing in Mauqsun. is a great gaine to the Lordes, an enri­ching of the Tenauntes, an encreasing of corne, a greate bréeding of cattell, a pathway to plentie, an augmenting of wood, a power to your Prince, a strength to your countrey, and a common commodity. But let me aske you one thing: In some Lordships perhaps (where the grounde is verye fertile) there is little or no Commons, but arrable and Me­dowe, with smal portions of grasse ground, which are por­tions appointed or limited to Farmes and Tenements: so that there was little or nothing to spare for the Lord.

There, euery tenant doth inclose his own groūd, of their own charges: yet their landlords, if they lacke mo­ney, do lend them mony therfore, vntil they be able to repay [Page] them againe: & the Landlords are so godly and good, that of their owne costes and charges, they commonlye doe inclose the Medow and Arrable land that is taken out of the same, appointed to the Cotages, as is before mentioned.

Truly it is a very godly déede, but I feare the greatest mischiefe is behinde: for it is to be thought, that the Lords do raise the rents of their Farmes and Houses, to whome these new commodities do belong.

Truste mée, these Farmers and Cottagers, thoughe they haue greater profites and commodities than they had before, doe paye neither Fine, neither anye more Rent than they did. Doe you thinke that the Tenauntes with you, could be contēt to haue their Commons turned into pasture in this order, as we haue ours?

Yea I warrant you: but our Landlords, or ra­ther Lordes of the Commons, will not be in haste to do as yours do, though it woulde be a verye greate commoditie to them. Our inclosers of the Commons are not so kinde hearted as yours, for they muste haue all or none: manye of thē haue so inclosed the Commons, Greedie inclo­sers. that they haue closed themselues in, and shut all the reste out: but if they would take ynough for themselues, and leaue parte for euery one of theyr Tenauntes, as your inclosers of the Commons do, manye that are nowe moste earnest againste inclo­sing of the Commons, would then be vehement procurers for the inclosing for the Commons. Surely, their insatiety is farre contrary to true Christianitie. As the Commons are nowe vsed: they haue nothing, and their Tenauntes haue something: Marke this well. but if they coulde be content with reason, or with lesse than all, they might haue too muche, and their Tenauntes inough. What harme were it for them to haue an C. acres more thā euer they had, & their pore néedie ney­bors to haue an acre or two more thā they haue? what were they y ^t worse to suffer their neibors to haue a simple break­fast, & themselues to haue a sumptuous dinner? truly, they are more than churlish that wil either eate all, or else eate [Page] not at al: or else wil not féede vnlesse their neighbors fast.

They woulde euill do, as many do with vs, that dwel in towns, whereto there belongeth no Commons.

What doe they I pray you?

If a pore Artificer haue many childrē, or a greater charge than he is able to maintain w ^t his trade, by & by one goodmā or other wil buy him a cow or two, & giue him thē.

It is very charitably done, but howe shall he do for grasse to kéepe them?

He may better hyre grasse hauing Kine, than to buy Kine, and hyre grasse besides.

That is true, he may so indéede.

Yea, but this good mā doth not leaue him so, for if he haue no grasse nor pastur of his own, he wil hire sufficiēt grasse for them & pay for the same: & also buy Hay with hys own mony, to féede them withall in winter. They y ^t would inclose al the Commons from theyr Tenauntes and the pore, wil not, I trow, be taken with such a fault as this.

No I warrant you, they, their wife and children shoulde perishe rather. Sir, you haue told me of many fa­mous, wife, and godly Iudges of your countrey, is there neuer a corrupt Iudge to be founde in al your whole land?

No not one, it is as hard to find a corrupt Iudge with vs, as a good Usurer with you.

There cannot be a good Usurer with vs, nor in a­ny other place.

Neither can there be an euill or corrupte Iudge with vs: for the short sentence of Christ (which is, Whatso­euer you would that other doe to you, doe euen the same to them) is so grauen in their harts, that it bridleth them from bribes, & winds them from wrong. And bycause Christ per­suadeth thē to do it, therfore they performe it. Besides y ^t, re­son teacheth thē, y ^t if they were oppressed or had wrong, & y ^e oppressed were Iudges, thē they would be willing to haue their matter heard w ^t equity, prosecuted w ^tout briberie, and determined spéedily. And though our Iudges be suche, yet [Page] we haue a very seuere lawe for the punishing of partial bri­bing and corrupt Iudges.

I beséeche you shewe me the lawe therein.

Oure lawe is, The lawe of Mauqsun for Iudges that take bribes. that if any Iudge take any bribe or reward, or any other for him by his cōsent, for any mat­ter depending, or to depend before him, and doth conceale it foure and twentie houres, and so iudge contrary to equitie on the parties behalfe that gaue him the rewarde, he shall die for it without any redemption. His death shall not be according to the execution of the common offenders: For first his hande shall be cutte off, wherewith he receiued the bribe or rewarde: whyche hand shal be nayled on the seate or chayre where he did sit, to feare the Iudges that shall sit there after him to do the like: And his tong shall be cut out of his head, and shall be nayled iuste ouer againste the Iudges seate, and this shall be written vnder it: This is the tong of the wicked Iudge that gaue false iudgemēt: that the Iudges that shall sitte there after him, may thereby be­ware.

Youre lawe herein is verye seuere: yet surelye corrupt and bribing Iudges are worthy to be so serued.

How many Iudges hands and tongs are nayled in your Iudges seates?

Not one.

It euery Iudge with you had bene thus vsed, that haue rewardes or bribes in this case, for wresting the right and wringing with the wrong, but for the space of foure or fiue hundreth yeres now paste, and let al the reste goe: I feare that fewe of your Iudges seates woulde haue escapte without a hand or a tong: but your lawes herein are not so straight as ours: and if they were, they woulde not be so well executed.

You neuer spake a truer worde in your life: pro­céede I praye you, howe is the reste of their execution?

Forsooth all the golde and siluer, that he shall re­ceiue to do wrong or to iudge contrary to equitie, shall bée [Page] melted, and then his mouth shal be holden open, and it shal bée powred downe into his throate: whereby the money that he toke to defraude the Innocent of their righte, shal bercaue the couetous and wicked Iudge of his life.

The money might be put to a better vse than so, & not to be lost on that sorte.

It was not to be so lost, but that it wil be found again I warrant you: for though it kil the wicked, it doeth pleasure the honest and néedie: for when he is deade, the same golde and siluer is takē out of him, and solde by waight to the Goldsmith, which shal be giuen to him that did reueale it.

Now surely, though this lawe séeme seuere, yet me thinkes it is necessarie: for what thing is more odible to God, and more hurtful to man? than suppressing of right, and per­uerting of Iustice? and what law can be too extreame for the of­fenders therein? and is not bribes or giftes, the meane to thys mischiefe? for Munera peruer [...]ūt Iusticiam, G [...]ftes peruert Iu­stice▪ now if gifts, bribes, or (as some cal thē) gentle rewards, is one of the chiefest causes of this wickednesse, then no law can be to seuere, for such bribed or corrupt Iudges. Oh if al Iudges woulde wel way and consider the greate othes they take, and the maruellous charge is giuen them, when they are made Iudges: they would (if they had any sparke of the feare of God, or were not vtterly determined to goe to the Diuell) abhorre bribes, refuse rewardes, reuile the bribegiuers, nay punishe suche offerers, heare the poore willinglie, determine their cause spéedilye, vse no parcialitie, and giue iudgemente wyth all equitie. Well, though some Iudges haue little regarded this: the Iudge of all Iudges will one daye doe this. But sir, is there no Lawe with you for them, that doe offer or giue bribes?

Yes that there is, and I thinke a better law than any you haue in such case. Whosoeuer offereth or giueth any gifte or reward, For bribe­giuers. to any Iudge for anye matter depending, or after to depende before him, shal forfeit the one halfe of al his goods, and the Iudge to whome the gifte is offered or giuen, shall haue it [Page] fréely to himselfe, if he reueale the same within a daye after. And if he do not so reueale it, then the first reuealer or bewray­er therof, shal haue it. And the King shal haue [...]ne fourth parte of his forfeited goods: & he against whō the bribe or gift is giuē, shal haue another part: and the other half shal be sold, & equallie giuen among the poorest neighbours of him, that offred or gaue the reward.

If we had such a lawe with vs, & so well executed as yours, there would not be so many gifts giuen, to peruert right as there be. But sir, may not one write to y ^e Iuge, in the behalf of his friend, to request him to be good vnto him?

We haue a law, that whosoeuer writeth to y ^e Iudge, or speaketh to him in the behalf of any in this case, he y ^t so doth write or speake (except as a witnesse in y ^e same matter) he shal be imprisoned thrée monthes. And shal find, on his owne cost & charges, two of the porest prisoners of the same prison, meate & drink, during al y ^e same time. And if y ^e Iudge to whō he doth so write or speake, do not reueale the same within xxiiij. houres, he shalbe displaced out of his office, & also shal find, on his own cost & charges, two children of his poorest neighbours during a yeare after.

Out of al doubt this is a worthy and necessarie law: I would we had the like with vs, and so wel executed as youre lawes are: and if it were sharper it were not amisse: For there haue bin moe matters delayd, mo iudgements staide, more fal­shod boulstred, mo true matters wrested, and mo pore Clients hindred, through letters, and sending of rings and tokens, with vs in one month, than there is with you in a hundreth yeares.

I beléeue you verie wel: but there is a great faulte in thē y ^e sende suche letters or tokens to y ^e Iudges, & a great fault in y ^e Iudges y ^t accept thē: but a greater fault for satisf [...]yng them that sent thē. I told you, in our first talke, of a worthy Iudge y ^t receiued a letter in the behalf of his friende, who féeling by the waight y ^t it was a brybers letter, and knowing it was onely to wrie with the wrong: he put it vp into his bosome, & would ne­uer loke on it, before he had giuen iudgemēt on him, on whose [Page] behalfe it was sent.

I remēber it very wel, you told it me at my first be­ing w ^t you: surely he was a famous Iudge: if Iudges wold not reade y ^e letters, in such case sent vnto them, or winke as thogh they had not read thē, vntil they determine the matter, or passe iudgement therof, so many matters y ^t haue past by law on poore mens sides, shoulde not be so long without their right as they are. I heard a woman say with wéeping eyes, that she hadde a matter hanged in the law seauen yeares, before it could be try­ed and passe on hir side, and it was then eight yeares after, and yet could not haue iudgement therof. So that she thought, yea and saide, that one that comforted and promised hir faire, was the chiefe occasion of hir stay from hir right: but I beléeue that he hath spedde neuer the better therefore. A pittiful thing: if it were hir righte by the lawe, why shoulde iudgement be staid? and if it wer not hir right, why did the law giue it hir? Surely before God, it is as great a fault, to kéep one from his right, as to defraud one of his right: doth not he withold a mans right, y ^t wil not giue him iudgement, wherby to haue his right? At the last day God wil not delay the time, betwéene the tryall of our sinnes, and his diffinitiue sentence, as some of our worldlye Iudges haue done: for as soone as he shall saye to the wicked, When I was hungrie you gaue me no meate, when I was thirstie you gaue me no drinke, when I was naked you clo­thed me not, &c. And as soone as they shal say: we neuer sawe thée hungry, thyrstie, naked, &c. by and by he wil giue iudge­ment on them, and wil not stay iudgement thrée or foure yeres after, neither for letters, brybes, rings, nor for any mans plea­sure: at which time he wil saye: Go yee accursed into euerla­sting fire prepared from the beginning. So that hereby it appeareth, that he wil giue iudgemente moste quickelie & spée­dily, both on the wicked and godlye, as soone as their cause is tryed and determined. Therfore y ^e iudges of the earth, wer best to learne of Christ to giue righteous and true iudgemente, as soone as anye cause is truly tryed by the lawe: for if Christe did thinke y ^t it is necessarie & good to stay Iudgement, then hée wil [Page] do it. And though Christ shall haue many thousande thousande matters to decide and iudge at the laste daye, he will decide, ende and iudge them all in one day: but some earthlye Iudges haue had some one matter hang before them four or fiue yeres, and yet when it was ended, and the Lawe hath determined it, it hath bene as long (perhappes longer or not at al) ere he hath giuen Iudgement thereof. Manie liue not a tweluemonth af­ter they haue begunne the Lawe, and can a man be sure to liue a doozen yeare, to sée his matter ended? the great delayes, long sutes, and vnreasonable expences, make manye that are mar­uellously oppressed and haue manifest wrong, either not to beginne the Lawe, or throughe their importable charges, (which they are not able to continue) are enforste to cease the law, which their aduersaries, that maintaine themselues with their goods, know wel ynough.

Yea but we haue a notable Law with vs, for Iudges, that kéep matters long before they end them, or giue iudgemēt on them.

I beséech you shew it me, for such a lawe is very ne­cessarie.

If any matter whatsoeuer it be, A lawe in Mauqsun that no matter shal hang in sute a­boue three months. be not determined & iudged within thrée monthes, after the Bil of complainte be once aunswered, the Iudge before whom the same dependeth, (if it be throughe his default or negligence) shall immediately vpon iuste proofe, be not onlye displaced out of his saide roome, or office, and neuer permitted againe to be Iudge: but also therefore shall be imprisoned for the space of one whole yeare: besides that, he shal forfit the one half of al his goods: & the par­tie whose matter was so delaide & prolonged, shal haue the one halfe therof, and the other halfe shal be sold, and the money shal be equally distributed, among poore Sutors, hauing then mat­ters or causes, in the same Court, to help to relieue them, and to prosecute matters withal.

What a worthy coūtry haue you? you haue a medcine for euery mischiefe. I would we had y ^e like w ^t vs, i [...] it might cōue­niently be: but our Iudges sit but at certaine times, and many [Page] of the parties that haue maters before them, dwel so far off, and besides that, they are troubled with so many matters, that it is impossible for them to ende euery matter in so short a time.

Yea but if you had as we haue, A good & easie order for t [...]yall of matters speedily. then they might end them easily within that time as we doe. For we haue through­out our whole countrie certaine Iudges appointed and limited for certaine townes, villages, and parishes, and none dwelling in these townes or parishes shall sue or commence any cause in any Court but onely in that limitted and appointed vnto them. And also the Iudges, or some of them doe sit euery day twice: that is, three houres in the forenone, and thrée houres in the af­ternoone (excepte certaine dayes) and the matter is so ordered, that neuer a man, woman, or any that haue any mater or cause to commence or to complaine, shall therefore goe aboue a dosen miles at the furthest: whereby the Iudges maye verye easilye determine and iudge euery cause, be it neuer so doubtfull, with­in that time.

Surely you make all your orders and lawes with a maruellous good consideration: but it may bée, that the matters are delayed through farre dwelling of the witnesses, or through their purposed absence, so that the Iudges are not to be blamed therein.

That is true: but who so euer are to beare witnesse for any matter with vs, shal neuer néede therfore to trauel far, but shall be deposed and examined before those Iudges within whose precinct they inhabite or dwell: and for euery time that any such witnesse, shal make default and not appeare before the saide Iudges, to be deposed and examined vpon such interroga­tories or articles (if they be not sicke or impotent) they shal for­feit therefore one Hundreth poundes: or if they be not worth so much, then the one half of all their goods: the one moitie wher­of the party shal haue (for whose hindrance they refuse to beare witnesse) and the other part shall be equally diuided among the Iudges, before whome they shoulde haue bene deposed and exa­mined. And if the witnesses be poore, and haue little goodes or none, they shall be emprisoned, vntill they be deposed and exa­mined [Page] touching the same cause. And likewise if any of the said witnesses haue any mater or cause to be tried by witnesses du­ring the same time which they so refuse to bée deposed and exa­mined, no witnesse shall be suffered or permitted, to be deposed nor examined in their behalfe.

O famous Countrie, O worthy Lawemakers, but most worthy Law obseruers: happy is that King that hath such Subiects, that liue as though they néeded no Lawe. But what if any of them that should beare witnesse, take bribes, mony, or giftes, wherby they refuse to be deposed or examined?

You néede not aske that question, there is none suche with vs: haue you any such with you?

Haue we any such, quoth you? if I néed not aske you the one, you néed not aske me the other: for wheras you affirm that you haue none such, I am out of doubt that we haue many such.

If you had such a Law, and so executed as we haue, then you would not haue so many such as you haue.

What is your Lawe for suche, I pray you?

Forsooth the same Lawe is for them, that is for the Iudges that receiue bribes or rewardes. Their hande they re­ceiued the Gifte or Rewarde withal, shal be cutte off: and their toung shal be cutte out, bicause they woulde not vtter the truth therwith, and shal be nailed in the Courte where they shoulde haue bene examined, to make all the other witnesses take héed of taking Bribes or Rewardes. And lastly, the mony shall bée melted, and so poured into their throats, and they shal be so kil­led as the brybed Iudges ought to bée.

But what if their Gift or Bribe be no mony, howe then?

Then the same shall be solde, and the mony receiued therfore, shal be molten and giuen them to drinke.

A small deale of such drinke wil quench their thirst. If euery one in our Country that haue deserued such a draught of drinke by your Lawe, had drunke it: so many true matters [Page] would not be supprest as there haue bin, nor so many false cau­ses could not carie that credit they do. Bicause you can tell mee of no Bribed Iudges with you, whereon to execute this your late told excellent Law: I wil tel you of a most wicked Iudge, of whome I hearde by the way as I trauelled hither, that was drest euen as he deserued: who was as yong as the Iudge you tolde of, that boulted out the truth against his owne father, but nothing so good as he was.

Tell it, and I will giue you the hearing: I knowe you will not reporte it vnlesse it were true, nor yet stand about to tell it, vnlesse it were strange.

There was a very yong man, not very far from the Countrie where I was borne, A notorious example of a detestable Iudge. who for his great learning, rare wisedom, commendable conditions, and modest maners, was, by the Magistrates and Rulers of that Countrie, chosen to be a Iudge, who vsed him selfe for a while in his Office, so vpright­ly and so godlie, to the iudgement of euery one, that none but were glad that they had suche a Iudge. In whose time, there happened two Gentlemen to be very conuersant together, and to loue one another déerly, euen as though they had bene sworn brethren: and whiles they were in this frendshippe, the one of them began to cast his loue an a certaine Gentlewoman, who being a great suter vnto hir, and yet could not obtaine hir loue as he wisht, began to languish for hir loue, and was so sad and sorrowful therby, that the other Gentleman his déere frend, did not onely much muse and meruaile thereat, but on a time, en­forced through very sorrowe to speake vnto him, he sayd thus, or the like: Sir, I thought you had estéemd me aboue al other, but nowe I perceiue, that you loue some other better than mée. What occasion, saide the other, haue you to saye so vnto mée? Haue I depraued you to anye man? you knowe my secreates more than anye: and you haue my companie more than anye: and these are not tokens that I loue any better than you. Wel sayde the other, thoughe these doe argue, yet do they not proue. Your bodie is sicke, as it is lyke, for you eate little or nothing, your sléepe is taken from you, and your mirth is cleane gone, [Page] which if they bée not argumentes that your body is sicke: then they are manifest prouffes that your minde is not well. And if your bodie be sicke and you hyde your disease from me, or if you be sick in minde, and conceale the cause from me, especially frō him that you knowe will not spare the best bloud in his body to heale your body, nor his goodes, counsel, nor trauel, to ease your minde: then I must néedes thinke (say you what you wil) that you loue me not as you professe, nor estéeme mée as I deserue. Then saide his frende againe: I knowe you loue me, and ther­fore I loue you againe, and that is, as wel as my self. If you do so, saide the other, then you ought to let me knowe what so euer you know your selfe: vnlesse you thinke that your self will be­wray your self, except you doubt your self wil deceiue your self, and vnlesse you thinke that your self wil betray your self. Nay that followeth not, sayd the sorowful Gentleman: for though I loue you as my self, that maketh not that you loue mée as your self: be not angrie I beséech you, I speake this rather to answer your argument, than that I doubt your loue. In déede there are very thoughtful matters in my minde, I would I had changed them for diseases of my body. And for that I haue kepte them close, to my great griefe, I wil nowe reueale them to you, as to my chiefest frend, I hope to my comfort: not doubting, but that as I tel you where my pain is, so I hope you wil procure some plaister to ease it. Then his frende saide, both vehemently, and as it séemed, faithfully: I protest here before God and you, if my paines may pleasure you, or if my pursse may profit you, assure your self of it, and loe here is my hand: if I may know the roote of the thing that worketh you this sorrowe, I wil plucke it vp, (and that with spéede) if al my strength be able to do it. Wel, saide the other, seing you say so, I will no longer hide from you the woe that doth wound me. You know that I said not long since, that I loued you as wel as my self, but now I must con­fesse vnto you, that I loue another better than my self: yea, and suche a one, that I feare when she knoweth it, shée will rather frowne than fauour me, hate than help me, and cut me vp than comfort me. If I may know hir name and where she dwelleth [Page] sayde his friende, I hope I wyl find a salue that wil heale thys sore: oh if you coulde, saide the other againe, I woulde neuer forget your friendship. And then he vttered hir name, & where he shoulde haue hir. Séeing said he, you are in such a perplexitie for hir, I wil not tarrie the writing of a letter, but let me haue your Ring for a token: but I pray you first tel me, are you well acquainted with hir? very wel, said the sorrowful Gentleman, and she loueth me verie wel: but I feare, not so wel as to mar­rie me. I am glad you haue told me thus much, said his friend▪ I wil not therfore tell hir that you are sicke for hir loue, but of some other maladie, and desire hir to come and speak with you: who not knowing the matter, I doubt not but I shal perswade hir at first. Thē said the sorrowful Gentleman: if I doubted no more of hir loue, thā I doubt of hir comming, I know I shold be hole of my disease within this houre: what, saide the other, doe you thinke she wil come so soone? yea I am sure of that, said he, if you deliuer hir my Ring, but in any wise tell hir not that I am loue-sicke: no I warrante you, saide the other. And so hée went to the Gentlewoman with spéede.

I praye you what good newes didde hée bryng a­gaine?

For wante of good newes he broughte the Gentle­womanne hir selfe: who wepte for sorrowe, that he was so sicke.

It séemed by hir spéedie comming, and by hir sodain wéeping, that she loued him wel.

Yea and better than he thoughte, and after as wel as he wished: but at that time though she fauoured hym inwardly, she shewed it not outwardly, but as one friend wold do to another. At which time the sicke Gentleman saide: surely Gentlewoman, I muste néedes thinke my selfe much behol­den to you, for this your spéedie cōming to me: but a great deale more for so quickly easing me. Many Phisitiōs cānot help their patients though they take their medicines: but you haue half cured me without any medcine: therfore I must say, thogh your cunning be not great, yet your luck is very good. Sir said she, I [Page] haue halfe cured you without knowing your disease, & with­out giuing you any medicine, then it is verie like I shoulde throughly cure you, if I knew your grief, and did minister vn­to you. That is very like, saide he: and séeing your phisick doth so much ease me at the beginning of my diseases, I meane you shal be my Doctour stil vnto the ende of my sicknesse. Sir, said she, if only my comming without cunning can helpe you, you shal not long lye sicke. Then saide he againe: if my seruice may pleasure you, you shall not long lacke a faithfull seruaunte. I thanke you for that, saide she: and therewith she gaue him hys Ring, that he sent vnto hir. Nay, saide he, you offer me nowe discurtesie, thoughe it be not a sufficient recompence for youre comming, yet I beséech you kéepe it, vntil you haue a better re­warde: for seeing Phisitions take as much as this of theyr pa­tients, for their comming to them, though they do thē no good, then you deserue a greate deale more than this, that with thys your once comming haue halfe cured your patient. You know sir, saide she, that Gentlewomenne vse not to take money for theyr Phisicke: no more doe I, said he, offer you anye, a golde Ring is no money: and thoughe you will not take it for a re­warde (thoughe you haue deserued it for suche a spéedie cure) yet I beséeche you take it with you and weare it, that thereby you maye remember to come and see your patient. I am con­tente with that, sayd she, so that you will take another Ryng of me, that when you beginne something to waxe strong, you maye remember to come and see your Phisition. I am verye well pleased with that, saide he: and so they made a chaunge, and one of them to [...]e anothers Ring, and then for that time the Gentlewoman hys Phisition toke hir leaue, and so she depar­ted.

The best learned Doctour of them al, could not haue eased him so spéedily, and cured him so quickely as she didde. When he sent the Ring to the Gentlewoman, he thought she woulde not bée so easily wonne to bee his Phisition, thoughe he knewe hir cunning was able to cure him: I doubte not, but [Page] if his Phisition plyed him as shée beganne, he was not long in curing.

You maye be bolde of that, for the same nighte he fel to his meate, and was so sodainely merrie, that euerie one that sawe him, before like for to dye, so sodainely [...]euiued and most like to liue, did maruellously muse thereat. But the Gen­man that carried his Ring to the Gentlewoman, and broughte hir with him, was not very merrie: whom the other Gentle­manne his friende comforted as well as he could, saying: my friende be merrie, and whatsoeuer I am able to doe for you be bolde of me, and I will recompence your gentlenesse if I be able, I woulde be loth you should be sicke. Then he fayned that he was not sicke, but that his heade aked a little. The morning next after, the Gentleman that caried his Ring, and that fayned himselfe sicke, wente to the saide Gentlewoman: how doth my patient? said she: verie wel, said he: you wrought an excellent and a spéedie cure of him: I woulde to God you coulde helpe me so quickly: what are you sick? saide the Gen­tlewoman: yea, said he, and therfore I am come to craue your helpe: though I helped him saide she, more by chaunce than by cunning: yet perhaps your disease must be helped rather by cū ­ning than by chaunce. And I doe not thinke that you haue hys disease: yes verily euen the very same: yet (saide she) thoughe your disease and his be al one, perhaps your complexion and his are contrarie. I am like the grimde Priest, for as he coulde say mattens on no portuse but of his owne, so I can helpe no complexion but one: therefore, said she, you were best to séeke you another Phisition, for I am sure that I cannot helpe you: and take this for an aunswere, if I coulde I woulde not helpe you. The beste counsel that I can giue you is, in any manner of wise to take héede that you gette not colde, for feare of coughing: and thus fare ye well, for I meane to minister no moe medicines to daye: and so she whipte awaye from hyr newe patiente, whome I thinke she made rather an im­patient.

She was a good wise Gentlewomā, she smelt quick­ly wherfore he came: he fayned that he woulde haue hir mini­ster to him: but his meaning was to haue ministred to hir. Hée had quickly forgot his faithful promise to his friend: but tel me came she againe to visit hir patient?

Yea that she didde, within thrée or foure dayes af­ter.

It was maruel that the patient wente not to y ^e Phi­sition, séeing the Phisition tarried so long from the patient.

His olde griefe began newely to growe, for lacke of his Phisitions Counsel or rather companye: whereby he was vrged to goe to hir, who bad hym welcome merily, and asked him how he did pleasantly: whom he aunswered again: I am better than I was, when you came to me, but not so well as I was when you went from me: I knew that your honesty was so good, and your care so great to performe your promise, that you wold not giue ouer your patiēt, y ^t you had promised to cure: wherfore I feared least you had bin sicke, & therby constrained to absent your selfe, thinking y ^t though many haue cunning to helpe other, yet they haue least knowledge to cure themselues. Wherfore though it be something paineful, and dangerous for me to come far, yet I was so bolde to aduenture, least I shou'd perish for want of Phisick. Sir, said she, you coulde not dye for want of phisicke, seeing the Citie is so ful of Doctors of phisick. Then said he: there is no Phisition doth like me so wel as you, neither any can giue me so good medicines as you: & moreouer you haue one good propertie y ^t many of thē haue not, for many of them take money and do no good: but you doe good and take no mony. I am glad, said she, you like me so wel: and therfore, bycause you haue so good opinion in me, you shall not want my trauel nor paine throughly to cure you, at the leaste if it lye in my power: yes saide he, it onlye lyeth in you and in none else. Syr then, sayd she, if I chaunce to cure you of thys disease (as I doe not doubte but I shall,) I truste you will not vse me currishlye for my vsing you curteouslye: neyther séeke at anye tyme a new Phisition, in your health to make you sicke, [Page] and refuse your old Phisition, that whē you wer sick made you whole? No, saide he, if euer I do so, I would not wish to be hel­ped of any disease if I chaunce to be sick. Wel sir, said she, your worde to me is as good as a bonde: therfore if you will goe with me into the nexte Chamber, where thrée or foure of my speciall frendes are, I wil giue you suche a medicine before them, that you shal neuer be sicke of the same disease againe. Say you so? saide he, your wordes haue so comforted me, that I féele my self almost hole already. If my words, saide she, haue made you al­most hole, I trust then my medicine will make you thorowly hole. And then she caried him into the Chamber where hir fren­des were, and there they were betrouthed together: which me­dicine was of so great effect, that it cured him perfectly and pre­sently.

But did the Gentlewoman tell him howe his frende had serued him?

That she did not, she had more witte than so: for if she should, she feared that it would haue renued his Sickenesse. Therfore she thought it better, to increase his helth by concea­ling it, than to procure his grief by reuealing it.

I pray you procéede, for I thinke long to heare the se­quele.

Within a while after, the Phisition and Patiente were married togither: wherewith the Gentleman whom hir husbande toke for his faithful frende, was not wel pleased: and though he requested him to be at his marriage, yet hée absented him self, faining him self sick of one disease, though he were sul­lein of another. But the Gentlewoman knewe his griefe well ynough, though she concealed it frō hir husbande, who on a time said vnto hir: My déere & faithful frend is maruelous sad, what­so euer hée aileth: if he be sick, I would I could ease him: if hée want aught, I would I could giue it him: & if any hath misused him, I would I knewe him. Sir, saide she, do you think he is your faithful frende in déede? Yea that I do, saide he, and who­so euer should say the contrarie of him, I should like the worsse of them. Then you woulde like the worsse of me, saide she, if I [Page] should say so? I take you as my selfe, saide he, and I my selfe woulde speake nothing of him but that were true, whereas I might surmise other would say that were false. Be sure sir, said she, that whatsoeuer I speake, I would be able to prooue. And certainely, though I cured your disease, as you knowe by pra­ctise: so I am certaine I know his disease by speculation. I am glad of that wife, saide he, for when the disease is knowne, it is sooner cured. Yea but, saide she, his disease can not be cured tho­ugh it be knowne: and though hée was a meane to cure you of your grief, yet it lieth not in your power to help him of his dis­ease. That is against reason, said he, it séemeth then that he hath a very strange disease. So strange it is, said she. His sickenesse is suche, that within this moneth no man on the earth coulde helpe him: and now his griefe is so farre growne, Marke this. that neither man nor woman can cure him. You knowe that your disease was such, that you cou [...]de be holpe by none but by me: and as no medicine coulde cure you but one, so that medicine could bée made but once. And what if your supposed frend haue the selfe same disease that you had? woulde not hée desire the same me­dicine? And you know, you had that medicine to cure you with­all, and it can not be made againe. And if I coulde make that medicine againe, as I can not, yet I would not make it, nor be­stowe that onely medicine on him. And therfore seing his dis­ease and yours is all one, and the onely medicine bestowed on you that would heale him: then he must eyther mende without medicine, or ende for lacke of a medicine. Wife, said he, though you speake parabolically, yet I vnderstande your meaning per­fectly: but I pray you, know you this by prouf, or by hearesay? saide hée. Truste me, I knowe it by triall, saide shée. Hath the Uilleine, saide he againe, vnder colour of frendeshippe, gone a­bout to defraude mée? Coulde hée so falsifie his faith, that I hauing but one Iewell in all the worlde, hée woulde steale it from mée? Ah husbande, saide his wife, if I hadde thoughte you woulde thus haue taken it, I woulde haue bene better ad­uised before I tolde it. I vttered it vnto you, to shunne a dis­sembler, [Page] not to frette at your foe. Wisedome willeth vs to heare things aduisedly, to take them pacientely, and to mende a myschiefe politikely, or if it be paste helpe, to auoyde the lyke wisely. Therefore good husbande, take him as you finde him, scrape him out of your Booke of faithfull frendes, and wryte him in the scrowle of false forsworne dissemblers. Your coun­sell wife, sayde hée, is very good, if I coulde followe it: but my hart is so ful, that the next tyme I sée him I will bée reuenged on him. Then his wyfe with wéeping teares, fel downe vp­on hir knées, and sayd vnto him: O husbande, wil you wound hir that hath healed your wounde? Will you giue hir poyson that hath giuen you a preseruatiue? And will you procure hir death that hath saued your lyfe? Remember your promise vn­to mée that you made before we were betrouthed. Wife, sayd hée, I both remember it, and will perfourme it: the wounding of mine enimie is not the hurting of my frende: my frend doth not féele the smarte of my foe: therefore if I cutte my enimie, yet I wound not my wife. Yea sir, said she, but if you kil your foe, do you not kill your self? And if you kill your selfe, shal you not kil your most louing wife, which is your own body & your self? Can furious fighters so moderate them selues, y ^t they can strike where they li [...]te, and hurte no more than they meane? And can furie persuade them, to stay their stroakes when they liste? You knowe that fewe fighte with pacience, nor strike with reason. Anger and reason seldome dwel together, the one can not abyde the other: Where Anger is, hée dryueth awaye Reason, and where Reason is entertained, he doth driue from thence Furie. But if Fighters were fenced with Reason, as they are armed with Anger, then so much harme would not come of fighting as doth. Therefore my good husbande, seing Fighters seeke rather to sheade bloude than saue bloude, I be­séeche you take héede you fighte not, neither giue any quarrell to fight. You knowe if you fighte and kill, you shal be sure to die therefore: and if hée that you fight withall kill you in figh­ting, what are you the better thoughe hée bée hanged therfore? [Page] There is none so madde I thinke, that would be killed to haue their foe hanged: and thus, if you kill or be killed, were not your sorrowfull wife better to bée killed with you, than in sorrowe worsse than death to liue after you? Therefore my déere hus­bande, heare the good counsel of your most louing wife. Banish anger and embrace pacience: expel furie and be ruled by reason. Content your self wife, saide he, for your sake, I will refraine from that I was determined. Will you performe that, said she, in déed, that you promise me with your worde? Yea that I wil, saide he, you haue giuen mée too wise a lesson, to fight with such danger. And so they left off for that time.

Did he performe the promise he made to his wife?

He did not, though perhaps he meant to performe it. For within a while after, it was his chaunce to méete the saide Gentleman, that woulde haue bene cured with his medicine: whome when he sawe, he drew forth his Sword, and without any further debating of the matter, he fought with him, and so at the length killed him.

His wiues wise talk was manifested by this: he had bene better to haue performed his promise that hée made to hir. What a mischief therby wroght he to himself, and what sorow brought he to his wise and louing wife? It was maruell that it killed hir not, as soone as she heard it.

Truly when she heard that hir husbande was in pri­son, and what was the cause, she swouned presentely: and they that were about hir had much a do to get any life in hir. Was not here a goodlie gaine that he got by his fighting? As she said, neither pacience nor reason was with him, when he gaue the o­ther his Deathes wounde. Here we may sée that all wisedom lies not in men, and al folly and mischief is not in women. But after, like a wise woman, she brydled hir sorrowe as wel as she could, and went about to mend the mischief aswel as she might, according to the lesson she gaue hir husbande before, whiche is this: Wisedome willeth vs to heare things aduisedly, to take them paciently, to mende mischiefs politikely, A saying to be noted. or if they be past helpe, to a [...]oide the like wisely. And so with as much conueni­ent [Page] spéed as she might, she got hir to the saide yong Iudge before mentioned, in whome (for his wisedome, godlinesse, and pie­tie,) she had suche a good opinion, that she thought through hir humble sute and pittiful mone, he would finde some one meane or other to saue hir husbandes life. And when she came before him she knéeled vnto him, and with wéeping teares saide: O worthie Iudge, as you are counted a moste wise and mercifull Iudge, now shew that in effect, which is bruted of you in talke: and saue an Innocents life that lieth in your hands to destroy. To whom the Iudge said: stand vp Gentlewomā, it wil gréeue me to sée you stand, much more to knéele: therfore without any more bidding sit downe by me, and I will not onely heare you, but also helpe you if I be able: so that equitie do allowe, and iu­stice do bid, hoping that your matter is such, that both these wil agrée vnto it, for that mée thought your request was to haue me to saue an Innocents life: and to saue an Innocents life a smal sute shal serue. And therewith he toke hir gently by the hande, and caused hir to sit downe by him: who said to the Iudge then: In déed sir I saide so, for I am that Innocent touching any law of Death, that lieth in your handes to saue or to kill: not that a­ny matter is laid against me worthie of Death, but my life (be­ing an Innocent) in this case, hangeth on another mannes life that is not innocent: whose life to saue lieth only in your hands. I pray you, sayde the Iudge, tell me your matter and cause as briefly and plainely as you can, and what I may do lawfully, I will perfourme it willingly. The truth is so, saide the Gentle­woman, I am the wife of suche a Gentleman that killed a man of late: whose cause I come not to defend, but for whom I come to craue mercy. I nowe knowe your matter, sayd the Iudge, I lament his missehap, and I pittie your case. You know Gen­tlewoman, it hardly lies in me to saue whom the law doth con­demne, especially him, whose facte is so manifest, and which by no meanes can be denied. O sir, saide she, it were very straite, that you being a Iudge so well thought of, and of such great au­thoritie, that you can not shewe iustice with mercie, and lawe with fauour. You knowe, sayde hée againe, I am sworne to [Page] doe equitie and iustice according. And you are not ignorante, that both Gods law and our law willeth, without any redem­tion to kill him that killeth, and to shead his bloude that shead it. And should I doe iustice if I should saue your husband, who willingly killed a Gentleman of late, that was not determined to fight with him? who vnwares set vpon him, and so hée was slaine, whom the law would haue fauoured in defending him­selfe? Therefore Gentlewoman cease your sute, for it lieth not in my handes to helpe you: but if I coulde I would not. For if I shoulde saue your husbande in this case, I shoulde gette more shame and slaunder by this one thing, than I haue gotten good reporte by all the iustice and equitie that I haue done since I came in Office. I blame not you, for suing for your husbande in so euill a cause, whiche you doe for loue: but euery one would blame mée, for graunting your request in so euill a cause, A lamenta­ble suter. which they would say I did for monie. O sir, said the Gentlewoman, (and began againe to knéele, but he woulde not suffer hir,) the Gentleman is deade, and the death of my husbande will not make him liue againe: which if it might doe so, I woulde not be so importunate herein: therefore I beseech you, as euer you came of a woman, or as you will haue Christ to be mercifull to you that was borne of a woman, kill not two moe for one that is deade alreadie. For I assure you, I loue my husband so déer­ly, that if he die, I am most sure that I shall not long liue. Oh I woulde to God that one frende might die for another, as one man doth pay monie or is imprisoned for another: then I that am most woefull would quickly be ioyfull. For then he should not die, but I would die for him. But seing that can not bée, O most worthy Iudge, stretch out your power and finde out some way or meane to saue my husbands life. What so euer you ask me you shall haue: and what so euer you will haue mée to doe, I will doe it. Let my vehement wordes penetrate your mer­cifull hearte, if there bée any sparke of pittie, or any droppe of mercie in you, shewe it nowe vpon mée your most humble ser­uaunte, which am readie, (if herein you pleasure mée) to runne at your horsse héeles, or to doe the vilest drudgerie that you can [Page] set me too. Surely Gentlewoman, saide hée, you are the most importunate suter that euer I knewe. I perceiue where you may haue yea, you will haue no nay. If your husbande should escape, hée is bounde to make muche of you. I thinke if you were in his case, hée neither woulde, nor coulde sue so earnest­ly for you. O yes, saide the Gentlewoman, it is his great loue hée doth beare mée, that causeth me to sue for him so vehement­lye. You knowe sir what I haue saide, from which I will not swarue: therefore I beséeche you sende me not away with­out some comforte, for if you doe, I am most assured, that vn­lesse you make good haste, I shal be deade before my husbande. Then the Iudge took the Gentlewoman by the hand, and said: I will aduise my selfe this nighte what I maye doe, and what way I may beste pleasure you: bée you of good comforte there­fore in the meane space. But as I will not promise you, so I will not denay you. And come to morrowe hither to my house, about this time, and I will be héere readie to speake with you, when you shall knowe of mée, whether I can, or will pleasure you, yea or no. At which time, the Gentlewoman tooke hir leaue of him, something better heartened than when she came to him.

I haue not hearde a more earneste suter for hir hus­bande than she: I pray you how sped shée after?

The nexte day, I warrante you, shée brake not hir houre, but wente vnto the Iudge, as hée had appointed hir: and when shée was come before him, hée made hir to sitte downe beside him, and caused al the rest that were there, but they two, to goe awaye: and then hée carried hir into an inner Chamber with him, bicause no bodie shoulde heare what hée saide vnto hir, and then thus hée beganne to say: Gentlewoman, the more I haue considered your case, the more I haue busied my selfe to helpe you, I assure you, (throughe your pittifull moane and most earnest sute,) I am determined to doe more for you and graunt you more fauour, than euer was in my thought to doe for anie: I muste hazarde that for you, (if I satisfie your desire) that I woulde not haue ieoperded for mine owne selfe. [Page] And for as much as you saide (to pleasure you, and to saue your husbandes life) you would giue me what I would aske, and al­so doe whatsoeuer I would wil you, I will be briefe and make fewe wordes with you: If you will haue me to saue your hus­bandes life, then you shall doe thus: You shal giue me six thou­sande Crownes (for I knowe you are able well to spare it, con­sidering your husbande is of such a great liuing as he is) which you shal bring me hither to morrowe at nighte. The time is very short, saide shée, and the summe is very great: but if there bée no remedie, I truste to make shifte for it. You know, said the Iudge, that if I bée not good vnto him, and finde some mea­nes for him, hée muste bée executed within these thrée or foure dayes: and therefore you muste make greate spéede therein, for I will haue it, before I doe deliuer him or saue him. Well sir, saide the Gentlewoman, you shall haue it: Yea but, sayde the Iudge, there is another matter behinde, whiche if you doe not, your husbande is like to die, for I will not receyue the monie without it: What is it sir, saide shée, and according to my pro­mise, I will doe it if I can or may? I knowe, sayde hée, you will be loath to doe it: this it is, to morrowe at night you shal bring your monie vnto me your selfe alone, at whiche time, at such a priuie dore of my house I will receyue you my selfe, (for I will trust none other with this matter) and then when you haue deliuered me so many Crownes, you shall tarie with mée still, and lie with mée all nighte: for I assure you, that if I desired the companie of your body no more than I estéeme your Crownes, I woulde not haue promised to saue your husbande, The Gentlewoman was so sodainely grypte with such a grief, that she was ready to sinke downe, but the Iudge tooke hir vp in his armes and comforted hir, saying: Gentlewoman, nowe is no time for you to fall in a traunce, nor for mée to trytie: if you had not earnestely of your owne frée will offered me, that you woulde doe whatsoeuer I willed you, I would neuer haue required this at your handes, neyther put you in any comforte: therefore eyther performe your promise, and saue your husbāds life: or else be false of your promise, & therby procure his death: [Page] for I assure you, there is none other waye to saue his life, but this. You know your lying with me shal be so secret, y ^t none in the world shal know of it but you and I: and as I wil kéepe it most secrete, Marke wel. so I trust you wil not vtter it: which words when she hearde, she sodainely clapt hir downe on hir knées: but hée woulde not suffer hir to knéele, but toke hir vp by the hande: to whom she saide: a sir, in what a straite haue you me now? ey­ther I must lose my husband to whom I haue giuen my faith, or else lose my faith that I haue giuen my husband: my husbād I can neuer get againe if he dye, and my faith I can neuer re­couer againe if I once breake it. Therefore I most humbly be­séech you, aske me what you wil (this thing only excepted) and if I performe it not, if I be able, moste willingly and quickely, then let my husband die without all redemption. I am borne to some inheritance, all which, both I and my husbande will most willingly release vnto you: and all my Iewels, Rings and other ornaments, I wil fetch with spéede and deliuer them to you, whiche will doe you more pleasure, stande you in more steade, & comfort you longer, than one nights lying with a wo­ful wretch that had rather be buried than to go to your bedde: and besides all this that I offer you, take fréelye to youre selfe those sixe thousand Crownes you request of me. Make no more adoe Gentlewoman, saide the Iudge: either get you hence with your gold, or tarrie here & performe my desire: for I am deter­mined none other waye to saue your husbands life but thus. Oh good God, said the Gentlewoman, how am I wrapt in wo, on euery side: if I deny this, my husband shall die: and if I per­forme it, I betray my husband. How can I loue my husbande, that so treacherously vse my husbande? Then saide the Iudge, and how can you loue your husbande, that rather than you wil lye with me one night, that neuer shal be knowne, will sée the death of your husbande? Oh sir saide she, if my husbande should knowe it, woulde he not kil me? yes, and thereof I were well worthy: nay, saide the Iudge, he would the more loue you, that did that, for the sauing of his life, whiche you preferde before your owne life: therfore, saide the Iudge, tel me what you will [Page] do, for I wil be quickly at a point. Well sir, saide she, wil no­thing content you but this? No, saide the Iudge: and I will tell you moreouer, if you performe this my demaunde nowe, I wil saue his life: but if you refuse it, then, though you wold, I will not: wherfore, now you may saue your husbandes life, or within these two or thrée dayes, be moste sure of his death. To whom the Gentlewoman saide, (preferring hir husbandes life before all other things in the worlde) well sir, séeing there is no remedie, I doe yéelde vnto you, beséeching you (for that I buy my husbandes life with suche a price, that all the treasure on the earth is not able againe to redeeme) to be sure, that my husbande be not onely saued from death for this facte, but also, that all our lands and goods may be ours, in such order as they were before the offence was committed: and also, haue a great respecte, that this my promise thus secretly performed, be not openly vttered. To whome the Iudge saide, assure your selfe Gentlewoman, al this shal be done, fear you not: which way it shal be, I haue deuised alredy. Then said she, I will be here at your priuie dore to morrow at night, whē I will, not only brīg you al your Gold, but also (though sore against my minde) will performe the rest of my promise. And so y ^e Gentlewoman tooke hir leaue of the Iudge, as one that was lifted vp with ioy on y ^e one side, and pulled downe with sorrow on the other side.

Surely, that cruell harted and wicked Iudge, droue that louing Gentlewoman to a maruelous mischief. But pro­céede, I woulde faine heare what followed.

You shal, & that willingly: y ^e Gentlewoman brought y ^e gold at hir houre, by such priuie means as she thought conue­nient, & the Iudge receiued both it & hir, being then something darke, & so she did lie there al y ^t night with y ^e Iudge: to whom he said in y ^e morning before she went frō him: now Gentlewomā, I thank you. And thogh you haue performed your promise ve­ry vnwillingly, yet you shal wel vnderstand, y ^t I wil performe mine most willingly. And for y ^t I would as wel haue you to be of good chéere, & to be quiet in mind, as also not to trouble your selfe w ^t any pains or trauel: my wil is, y ^t you stay at home &▪ go [Page] not abroad: & whereas your husband should haue bin executed to morrow in y ^e morning, I wil dispatch him, & send him home to morrow vnto you before noone at the furthest, if it be not be­fore: & therfore play the wise womans part, & be secret: & thogh your husband shall be deliuered so quickly, shew not your selfe to ioy therfore too sodainely. Wherefore kepe your self close in your own house, & be mery in mind, thogh for a shew you seeme to be sad. Wel sir, said y ^e Gentlewomā, as I haue satisfied your desire in an vnreasonable demaund, so I wil obey you in this reasonable request. And for y ^t I am most sure, that my husband shal now haue his life: I wish most earnestly, y ^t the time were come, that he were deliuered. Then saide the Iudge, y ^t time is not long, to morrow you shal haue him safe and sounde w ^t you. And thus she departed from y ^e Iudge, very merie for y ^e sauing of hir husbands life: but yet something sorrowful for the brea­king of hir faith to hir husband.

The ioy of y ^e one did mitigate the griefe of the other, she thought long I am sure for y ^e time appointed by the Iudge: and was the time for his execution the nexte day after?

Yea, & the day of his execution too: for the next mor­ning about 8, or 9. of the clocke, this sorrowful Gentlewomās husband was put to death: which, after it was done, A most cruell deede. was ryfe in euery mans mouth. And then the saide Gentlewoman stan­ding at hir dore, saw one come running in all the haste, who se­ing him comming toward hir so fast, was very glad, thinking that he came to tel hir of hir husbands life: but it fell out other­wayes, for he came to tel hir of hir husbands death. And when he came somthing nigh hir, she said: I pray thée what newes? is my husbande deliuered? deliuered, said he, no, he is executed. Executed? said y ^e Gentlewoman, I am sure y ^u dost but iest. Thē he said, you may take it now for iest, but shortly you wil find it in earnest. Yet the Gentlewoman would not beléeue him, shée had such a trust in the treacherous Iudge: but this vnlooked for news of hir husbands death, did so pintch hir, that she could not be quiet, til she wer better certified: wherevpon she would tar­rie no longer in hir house, but wente forth, to enquire further [Page] of the matter: and within a little while after, not far from hyr house, she met with two or thrée of hir friendes, that tolde hyr they came from the execution of hir husband, saying, they wold haue bin loth to tel hir thereof, but they were sure she was not ignoraunte of it. Oh saide she, may I credite you? is this true that you tel me? yea saide they it is too true: Heauie news. we had rather haue tolde you otherwayes, for we sée him bothe quicke and deade, and there was great hast made in the executing of him. With that the good Gentlewoman fel sodainely to the ground, whom all they had much adoe to recouer: and they carried hir home to hir house, and so she laie in a traunce for the space of two or thrée houres, and knewe no bodie that was about hir: but after when she came to hir selfe, one of hir friendes that was nie hir saide: you haue bene alwayes counted, since you were of yeares of discreation, to be both wise and godly in the time of prospe­ritie, shewe your selfe so nowe in the time of this your calami­tie: it is no greate masterie to guide a Shippe in calme wea­ther, but it is a waightie matter to rule a shippe in a storme or Tempest: therfore nowe guide your selfe with reason and pa­tience, in this time of sorrow. If your sorrow would gette him againe, I would wish you to vse it: but séeing that cannot bée, I woulde wish you refraine it. You maye procure your owne death with griefe: but you cannot get his life againe with sor­rowe: therfore make not two mischiefes of one. I wil not, saide she, I thank you for your good counsel. Ah wo worth al treache­rous villains, said she: once this morning I woulde haue laide all my goods to a groate, that I shoulde haue had my husbande safe and sound home to me this day before noone: but nowe for that you (whō I credite) haue tolde me that he is dead, and that the time is past I was promised to haue him here quitte and a­liue, my chiefe practise and delight shall be, to be reuenged on mine enemie: as before, al my trauel and labour was to release my frend. Haue you such an enemie, said y ^e other, that his déeds towards you haue deserued death? then she being a wise wo­man, loth to make any priuy of hir practise, said: truly the death of my husbande so gréeueth mée, that I speke I wist not what: [Page] therefore take no holde nor effect at my wordes, for I haue no suche enimie I hope, if I haue, I knowe them not, and it is also without my desert. And so she pacified hirselfe for that time as well as she coulde.

This was the vilest and moste treacherous parte of a Iudge or of any other that euer I hearde: but I consider his priuie meaning in executing hir husbande, for he thought by his death to haue marryed the Gentlewo­man, thinking that she, when she sawe that hir husbande was dead, whose life by no meanes she coulde get againe, woulde be allured to him by little and little wel ynoughe: iudging also, that she that was so loath to commit that fact secretely, for the sauing of hir husbands life, would be more loth to vtter it to hir own shame openly, after hir husbands death, when there was no hope of his life.

Well, he was cleane deceiued, in that she was otherwayes bent and fully determined: for she weighing with hirselfe, howe treacherously he had serued hir, not on­ly in defrauding hir of sixe thousande crownes, but also be­reaued hir of two of the greatest Iewels she hadde in the worlde, that was hir husbande and hir honestie, whiche by no meanes againe coulde be recouered; that thereby such a detesting and abhorring of him did enter into hir hart, that nothing was so pleasant to hir, as to procure his mischief: and had rather work his death by opening hir own shame, than to hide hir infamie by sauing his life, as the sequele doth plainely shewe: for as spéedily as she coulde, she gote hir decent mourning attyre, and with conuenient men to waite on hir, rode in all the haste where the Magistrates & the chiefe Rulers of the Countrey did sit: who knocking at the Counsel Chamber dore, within a while after was lette in, when they knewe who she was. And when she came before them, she knéeled downe: and lamentably and piti­fully desired them that she might haue Iustice, for that was the onely thing she craued: and as all my sute of late (saide she) was chiefly for Mercie, now al my request is onely for [Page] Iustice. Then saide the chiefe of the Counsell, Gentlewo­man, we may perceiue, that some great matter hath driuen you hither to require Iustice, therefore tell vs your matter truly, and you shall be sure of Iustice, and that with all ex­pedition. Then she humbly thanked him, and told in eue­ry point and hidde nothing, howe the wicked Iudge did vse hir. Which when they hearde, they were maruellously a­stonied thereat, at which time they asked hir, if she had any other witnesse herein than hir selfe: to whome she said, no, for the facte was so shamefull, that it rather required a se­crete place than open witnesses: but I can shewe you suche priuie markes and tokens, as well of the bagges wherein the Golde is, and of the place where they lye, as also of the priuie staires, where he himselfe alone brought me vp in­to his Chamber, and of the sh [...]etes, pillowes, couerings, & curtains of the bed, where I was enforced to graunt to lye with him, for the sauing of my husbandes life, and other se­crete tokens, that they will bewray the matter as well as any witnesses in all the worlde: No better wit­nesses. and the opening of myne owne shame before your Honors, me thinkes may be allo­wed for a sufficient witnesse. Then they commaunded, that all the tokens she coulde name, shoulde briefly be written: And so they were. Then saide the chiefe Ruler to hir as fo­loweth: we wil send one with you with our Commission, not onely immediatly to discharge the said Iudge and dis­place him, but also that he be apprehended and committed to prison, where he shall remaine vntill such iudgement as we shall thinke méete to be executed on him. And further­more, you shall bring this Commissioner into his Cham­ber, to whome you shall shewe al the secrete tokens there, before vs described and by you mentioned. And then they commaunded the Commissioner to seaze all his goods, and to scale vppe all the dores of his house, and that he and shée shoulde ride thither as spéedily and as secretelye as mighte be, leaste the Iudge hauing fore-knowledge, mighte flie awaye before they came. And he saide moreouer, that the [Page] Gentlewoman shoulde haue Iustice as she required, com­manding hir to stand to, & obey their iudgement therein: to whom she promised she woulde, and that moste willingly: and so they gaue hir leaue to departe.

This was verye wisely wrought of the Gentle­woman. The Iudge litle thought of this mischief that was so nigh him: he hadde bene as good to haue gyuen Golde to haue lyen with another, as to haue taken hir gold and li [...]n with hir. But did the Commissioner finde the Iudge at home when he came?

That he did, for the Iudge thought himselfe safe ynough: and so, when the saide Commission was sh [...]wed to the Rulers of the Citie, the Iudge was dismissed out of hys office, and straightway was committed to prison: and then the Commissioner with other appointed, toke the Gentle­tlewoman with them as a guide: to whome she shewed the posterne gate where he receiued hir into his Chamber, and also al the markes and priuie tokens with the place where the Gold she gaue him did lye, euen as shée hadde tolde the Counsell, and there they founde all the Golde which he had of hir.

I haue hearde of men that haue giuen Gold, to allure vnwilling women to be willing to lye with them: but I neuer knewe that vnwilling women, gaue gold for willing men to lye with them. I sée no pleasure that he did for hir, vnlesse his lying with hi [...]s [...] sore against hir wil was any pleasure, for I am sure she tooke no great pleasure in the putting hir husband to death. Well, thoughe shée coulde not get hir honestie, nor hir husbandes life agayne, she mighte haue hir Golde agayne: but had she it againe or not?

You shal know that hereafter, in a place more fit to be tolde. Whē the Commissioner & his other associates, hadde founde all the tokens and markes true as she hadde declared, they locked all the dores in his house, and sea­led them vppe: mary all the golde, siluer, plate, and iewels [Page] that they found, was committed to other that was charged safely to kéepe it. And so the Gentlewoman went home to hir house: whose greate sorrowe was mitigated, for that she hoped shortelye to sée the confusion of hir moste mortall enimie. And the Commissioner departed with spéede to the chiefe Ruler of the Countrie and the Counsel, vnto whom he reuealed howe the Gentlewoman had told them trueth in euery thing. And then soone after they consulted among themselues, what iudgement were méete to be giuen ther­in: and whiche waye that good and louing Gentlewoman might not be defamed, by that vnwilling and constrained fact: and how the peoples mouthes might be stopped, for vttering the same to hir infamie: and howe it might not be a slander to hir, nor a hinderance to hir marriage. Where­vppon, with long debating of the matter, they agréed, that hir honestie coulde not be saued, nor the infamous talke suppressed of hir lying with the Iudge, but onely by mar­rying of the same Iudge: and so they concluded, and gaue iudgement, that (séeing he had done hir suche a shame and villanie) suche a day by them appointed, he should prepare him in the beste maner he coulde, to marry hir, with an o­ther secrete iudgement besides, whiche was priuily vttered by the Commissioner: who was appointed, not onely to sée the marriage celebrated betwéene them accordingly, but al­so the other secreate thing performed, in all pointes as the Counsel hadde decréede. Whiche Iudgement was carried downe thither where the Gentlewoman dwelled, by the saide Commissioner. And when the day of the mariage ap­proched, the Cōmissioner came into the prison to the same wicked Iudge, & said, that the Ruler and the Counsel, had giuen iudgement, forasmuch as he had taken a Gentlewo­mans good name from hir, by lying with hir, Better than he looked for. that he should prepare himselfe in the beste manner he coulde to marrye hir, thereby to make hir amendes: whiche, when the trea­cherous Iudge heard, he was y ^e gladdest mā in the world: for that was the onelye thing he desired, and the cause why [Page] hée executed hir husbande. And so he prepared himselfe a­gainste the day appointed to marry hir. And then the sayd Commissioner went to the saide Gentlewoman, whome when she sawe, she was maruelous gladde, saying: sir, you are moste hartily welcome: I praye you what iudgement haue my Lords of the Counsel giuen on my behalf against the wicked Iudge mine enimie? Forsooth, saide he, as they thinke, a verye good and necessarie iudgement, thoughe it be not altogither as you desire: but in my opinion, it is as wise and righteous a iudgement as can be. Well sir, said shée, though it be not according to my contentation, yet I must be obedient, knowing, & being wel assured, that they are so wise, righteous, and godly, that they will giue none other iudgement, but according to equitie, iustice, and rea­son: and therefore, as I haue promised their Honors, what­soeuer iudgement they haue giuen, I muste be content, and will. It is very well saide of you, saide he, there is no resi­sting of them, and therefore, the more willinglier you take it, the better they will like of you. I praye you sir, saide she, what is it? thoughe I am loath, saide he, to vtter▪ it vnto you, bicause it will not well like you: yet I am enfor­ced to tell you of it, bycause the Counsell haue commaun­ded me. Spare not I beséeche you, saide she, to declare it vnto me: for, if it be any thing that may moue my mind, I am determined to arme my selfe with patience. I pray you do so, saide he, for you shall sée, that God at the length, will turne all things to the best: now thus it is: the chiefe Ru­ler, and the reste of the Honorable Lordes of the Counsell, haue giuen their iudgement, and fully decréed, that against suche a day you shall prepare your selfe, in most sober and comely wise, to be married vnto him: for they thinke, that the infamie you haue receiued by hym, Worse than she looked for. can be salued by no meanes so wel, as by being his wife, and to be married vn­to him: therfore prepare you for it accordingly, for there is no remedy; but you muste performe this their decrée and iudgement: whiche, when she hadde hearde, she waxed as [Page] pale as was possible: whereby it appeared, that inwardly she was not a little vexed and troubled. And wythin a while after she saide: shall I nowe marry hym that hathe cruelly killed my louing husbande whom he promised mée to saue, and spoiled me of my faith and honestie, whiche I can neuer recouer againe? to haue the life of my husbande, made me to goe to his bed loathfully, and can the death of my husbande make me to lye with him willingly? Oh, I woulde to God, that the Counsell hadde not respected so muche mine honestie, as to make me doe that I deteste more than death. I had rather a thousande times liue in shame, than to marry him that is cause of my shame. Then said he to hir againe. Did not you tell me, that you would arme your selfe with patience, thoughe I shoulde tell you that did trouble your minde? I saide so indéede, but when I saide so, thoughe all things were not so wel as I would, yet I did not thinke that it was so euill as it is: to marry him is the thing he moste desireth,: but to be marryed to him, is the thing that I moste abhorre: whereby he shall haue a ioyful life that hathe deserued a cruell death: but thereby I shall haue a sorrowfull death, that oughte rather haue a ioyfull lyfe. I hoped that the daye appoynted for his marying with me, shoulde rather haue béene the daye of hys death, for so shamefully abusing me. Well, I will obey theyr commaundementes, trusting thereby, that my sorrowe shall ende: and whereas that nighte he thinketh, that I shall bée bedded wyth hym, I hope that then I shall be buried by my selfe. There was neuer a sorrowfuller Bride than I shall be: but looke what you haue willed me, I will doe it, and what the Counsel haue iudged I wyll performe it. And then he toke his leaue of hir and depar­ted.

This was not suche a iudgement as shée looked for, nor yet as the wicked Iudge didde hope to haue. But didde she come at the daye appoynted to be marryed vnto him?

Yea that she did, thoughe it was full sore against hir will: for in the same morning he was ready at the chur­che a good while before she came, for if he had béene so vn­willing as she, he woulde not haue come so soone as he did. And at the laste, she came in hir mourning apparell, thin­king the would weare the same at hir owne dolefull mar­riage, that she did weare at hir husbandes death. And so to conclude, they were both married togither, wherof he was as glad as she was sorrowfull. And when they were mar­ryed, and as he was aboute to go home with his newe wofull wife, the saide Commissioner saide: sir you muste stay a little, this Gentlewoman youre wife hathe perfor­med all the iudgements that on hir parte are to be done: but thoughe you haue done some, yet you haue not done al, there is one péece yet behinde for you to performe. What is that? said the Iudge, for I wil do it willingly: then said the Commissioner, not so willingly I beléeue as you were marryed, vnlesse you are willing to goe to youre death: whereat the Iudge was astonied: and then the Commissi­oner saide to him: A wise and worthy iudge­ment. nay, there is no remedy, the Counsels iudgemente is, that immediately after you are married, you muste bée executed: therefore prepare youre selfe, for I muste sée it done presently. And as for you Gentlewo­man, saide he, you were beste goe to dinner, and not tarry for youre husbande, for he hath an other parte to play. O, saide the Gentlewoman, blessed be God that hathe giuen vs suche wise and godlye Counsellours, that haue gyuen suche a worthy iudgement: the death of my firste husband did not make mée so wofull a Widowe, but the death of my seconde husbande dothe make me as ioyful a Widow. Here was a sodaine change, for whereas before the Bride­groome was mery and the Bride sad: nowe the Bride was moste merry, and the Bridegroome sorrowfull, and so shée wente to hir dinner, and hée to hys death. Whose execution was not verye long in hande, for shée was a Widowe agayne that day béefore shée hadde dyned. [Page] And to comfort hir the better, she had not only all hir golde againe, but also all the Iudges hir seconde husbands goods: for the Counsell commaunded that he shoulde lose none of hys goodes, whereby this Gentlewoman his wife enioyed them all.

Truely they were godly and wise Counsellers: their iudgement was with greate equitie, iustice and rea­son. I am sure she was gladder that he shoulde goe to hys death, than with hir to dinner.

That is moste true, and contrary: he had rather haue gone with hir to dinner, than to his death. Surely, it is a vile thing for one to take mony, for getting of a pardon to saue a mans life, and to do nothing in it: but it is a most wicked and detestable thing, to take money for the sauing of a mans life, and then to cause him be spéedily putte to death. I pray you sir, haue you any law for suche as take rewardes for bringing matters to passe, and make men be­léeue that they trauell therein for them, and doe nothing at all?

We haue a lawe for suche, but we néede no lawe for suche, for none with vs will take any rewarde, thoughe they doe them pleasure: and then, doe you thinke they will take any gifte or rewarde for doing them no pleasure?

What is your lawe in that case?

Forsooth, whosoeuer taketh a rewarde for doing any thing, and doeth promise faire, but doth nothing at all therein, our law is, that he shal pay to the partie of whom he receiued it, A worthy law. thrée times as muche as he receiued, and hée shal be imprisoned for the space of a quarter of a yeare, and al the while he is imprisoned, none, vpon paine of the like forfeiture and punishment, shal do any thing for him, for a­nye matter or sute, or bring any thing to passe that he wold haue them to do. And he shall weare on his sléeue a whole yeare after, a paper, whereon shall be written: This is a dissembler.

But what say you to them that are put in truste [Page] by their frendes, to procure and to gette a thing for them, and then they Iudaslie deceiue them of it, and get it for themselues?

Marie I say they are false Harlots, and I think them as wel worthie to be hanged, as théeues that steale through ne­cessitie. For such we haue a worthie Lawe. But frendes with vs do deale so truely and iustly one with another, that the same was not executed of a great while.

Then belike it was once executed, wherby it appea­reth there was once an offender therin with you.

Yea that there was: And now I wil tell you the Hi­storie therof, if you will heare it.

Yes that I will, and that very gladlie.

There was one that was something sicke, An excellent example of one that deceyued him that putt [...] him in trust. and not very wel at ease, that had neuer a house to dwel in that he could trust to abide in long: for he had no Lease in it, but occupied it during the absence of a Gentleman, and no lōger could he haue it but vntill he came home: which sicklie man, not well able to trauel, & knowing that within foure or fiue miles of him, there was a Lease of a good Farme to be solde, sent for one whom he toke for his very and trustie frend: when he was come to him, he saide as followeth: Neighbour and frende, for the great cre­dit and trust I haue in you, I am ensorced at this time to craue your helpe. Then saide hée to him againe: Neighbour, what so euer I can doe for you, to my power I will doe it: And there­fore though it be neuer so waightie a matter, nor so great a se­cret, feare not both to vtter it vnto me, and also to putte me in trust to trauell therin, as I would doe for my selfe. Godamercy saide the other. You knowe neighbour, saide he, that I dwell in a house héere, wherin I haue neither terme nor certeintie: for as soone as the Gentleman commeth home, (who hath none other house but this to dwell in himself) I looke to bée houslesse, and how soone that wil bée I know not, for I looke almost euery day for his comming home. And nowe for that I vnderstande there is one within foure or fiue miles, an olde man, and that hath neither charge of wife nor children, which wil sel the lease of his Farme, (and that, as I vnderstand, very resonably) ther­fore [Page] I shall desire you to do so much for me, as to goe thither to morrowe, and not onely to enquire of it, but also in my behalfe and for me, if you can, to buie the same: but gette it as reasona­bly as you may, and whatsoeuer you appoint to be paide for it, I wil paie, and that at such times and dayes as you and he shal agree: which if you be content to doe for mée, what so euer char­ges you shall be at thereby, I will not onely allowe, but also I will pleasure you as much if I be able. To whome his neigh­bour that he sent for, answered againe and saide: neighbor, if it were more than this I would do it for you, therefore take you no care, for if he wil sel it (as you thinke he wil) I wil driue the price, and buie it for you as well as if you were there your self, and to morrow (God willing) I wil go about it. Do so, said the other, and I praye you let me heare howe the matter goeth, as sone as you can: and so he took his leaue. Two or thrée days past on, and yet he could not heare of his neighbour, and then he sent againe to him to desire him to come and speake with him: who sent him word that he would come by and by. And as soon as he came, the sickly man said: Neighbor, I loked for you two dayes since, marueling that you taried so long seing your iourny was so short. Neighbour, said he againe, a short iournie may haue a long businesse, and a shorte businesse may haue a long iourney: the distance of the places we know, but the time of dispatch we know not. We that do trauel are sure of our selues, but we are not sure to find them at home to whom we trauel. Therfore be content good neighbor, I came but euen now home, and now I am come to you, which I had done though you had not sent for me. I am as desirous to tell you, as you are to heare, what I haue done. Wel neibor, sayd the sick man, what haue you done therin? or how haue you sped? Not so wel as I wish, for your sake, sayd hée. I went thither the nexte day, as I promised you, but I found him not at home, but they thought he would come home that might, for whose cōming I taried so late, that it was to far for me to reach home by day light, and yet for al my tary­ing for him hée came not home that night at all. Whiche grie­ued me that I taried there al night, and was thereby neuer the [Page] nearer. The next day I taried for his cōming till almost night, so that I ment to tarrie no longer there, but to come homward. But as I was going out of the house, I met him comming in, whome I told how long I had stayed only to speake with him, desiring him to talke with me in some secret place, where I mi­ght vtter my minde vnto him, for that I made haste to be gone. Sir, sayde he, if you will haue aught with me, you shall tarrie with me all night, and at leysure you and I wil talke togither, for I am something wearie, assuring you, that I had rather sit and warme me by the fire, than to stande and talk in the colde. Therefore determine your selfe to tarrie all night, and though your Supper be but simple, your bed shal be the better. Whose gentle offer I could not wel refuse, and the rather, to dispatche your matter, and to bring your purpose to passe. And so I both supt well, and lay well, and also I slept as well.

As sone as we were vppe the nexte morning, and had bro­ken our faste, the Good man of the house sayde vnto mée: come and walke with me, I am more willing to talk with you than I was yesternight. What haue you to say vnto me? Forsooth, sayde I, I vnderstande that you meane to sell the Lease of this your Farme you dwel in: and if you be so determined, I haue a very honest neighbour that is nowe destitute of a house, who will giue you as much for it as it is well worth. The truth is so, saide the other, I was determined within this moneth to haue solde it, but nowe my minde is altred, for I haue no such occasion to occupy mony nowe, as I had before, and therfore I am fully determined to kéepe it still in my handes. Then saide I, if you be not determined to sell it, I am sure my neighbour will not be desirous to buie it. And so I gaue him thankes, and departed from him. And this is the very conclusion of al. Then saide the sicke neighbour to him that he had sent thither: What remedy? that that a man can not haue, he must be contented to forgoe. It was not wor­thie of thanks. Saying also, I thank you neighbour for your paines, I wil doe as much for you if it lie in my power. And so his neigh­bour went home.

What falsehod followed of this, I pray you?

More falsehode than faith, and more crafte than true dealing: for within a moneth after his saide neighbor that was sent to buie this Farme for him, came to him vnsente for, and saide as followeth: I am sorie that you can get neuer a house to dwel in, and for that I would be loath that you should be hous­lesse, I will sell you the Lease of my Farme that I dwel in, ra­ther than you shoulde want one. I thanke you neighbour, saide hée, but as you would be loth that I should bée without a house, so would I be sorie to make you houselesse. Nay neighbor, said he, I do not meane to be houselesse my selfe, though I sell you my house, for if you may spare it vntill your Landlorde come home, I doubt not but by that time to get another house better than mine. I am promised one if it will hit, and if he break pro­mise with me, as I think he wil not, yet I hope to get another, for my frendes will hearken about for me. How farre, said the sicke neighbour, is the Farme that is promised you? Forsooth aboue twentie miles hence, saide he. Well, said his sicke neigh­bour, if you can gette another house for your selfe then I pray you let me buie youres: yes that you shall neighbour, saide he, and I hope within this Seuenight to be so sure of one, that I may bergaine with you for mine. I would be glad of that, sayd the sick neighbor. And so for that time he departed home.

Did he come to him againe within a Seuenight, as he thought?

Yea that he did, and lesse, and then he said thus vnto him: Now neighbour I am come to you according to my pro­mise. I make a full accompt now to be sure of another Farme, and therfore I am come to offer you my Farm, if you wil haue it, you shall haue it before any other. And thoughe there be di­uers that are desirous to haue it, you shall forsake it before I do proffer it to any other. I thanke you therefore good neighbour, saide he: now tell me your price: You shall haue it for fortie poundes, said he, that is the lowest price, I wil not sel it vnder. O neighbour, saide the other, that is a great deale too deare, the other Farme that I sent you to buie for me, woulde haue bene solde for halfe the monie, as I was credibly tolde, and once the [Page] owner therof was fully determined so to haue solde it, and it is twice as good as yours, I am sure. Notwithstanding, for my necessitie, I will giue you as muche for it as it is worth, and something more: Well, to be short, said he againe, vnlesse you wil giue me so much for it, you can not haue it, and therfore say nowe whether you wil haue it or no, for if you refuse it, it will be gone, I can tel you that, and that for this price that I offer it to you for. Wel neighbor, I perceiue bicause my néed is great, therfore you make the price the greater: nay if you say so, saide the other, then you shal not haue it: is this al the thanks I haue for my good will? and so was going away in a sume. Then the sicke neighbour called him backe againe, and sayd: Good neigh­bour be not angrie, I meant no harm, your vnreasonable price made me speake so much: but I pray you do one thing for mée, let me pawse of the price betwéen this and to morrow at night: well, saide the other, I giue you leaue to doe so, but then I pray you let me haue a determined aunswere whether you wil haue it or not: you shal not faile therof, saide he. And his said neigh­bour came vnto him the next night, at which time the bergaine was fully made betwéen them, and so he paide him forty poun­des for his Lease. And the time was apointed in their writing, when hée should enter vpon it. But now, you shal sée how the matter fel out. The Gentlemā, in whose house this sickly Far­mer dwelled, came home: so that there was no remedie, but that he must dwel in his owne house, whereby he that dwelled in it, was enforce to remoue, to his neighbours house, the lease whereof he had boughte: and so he came to his neighbour and saide, neighbour there is no remedie, I must be so bold to enter and dwel in this house that I boughte of you, for that my in­terest therein is alreadie begunne, but chiefely that my Land­lord is come home, to whome I muste néedes giue place in hys owne house. Well neighbour, saide he, I can not denie but that I haue solde it vnto you, but if I had knowne so muche as I doe nowe, I woulde not haue putte it awaye: for the trueth is so, I am disappointed of my house, which I told you is aboue twentie myles hence, therefore if you woulde stay but [Page] one Seuenight, I shoulde thinke my selfe much beholden vnto you, and in the meane space I wil laye out for another, and if I cannot get one by that time, yet I wil make such shifte, that then I wil remoue from hence, and suffer you quietly to enter on your own: wel, saide his sickly neighbour, I doe not doubte to get my Landlords good wil to tarrie in his house so long, and therefore tarrie you here this seuenight, for I dare presume so much of him. And then at the seuenights ende, his neyghbour came to him, at whiche time he was remouing his goods and stuffe from thence, to whom he saide then: nowe neyghboure I perceiue you are true of your word. And so this sickly Farmer entred quietly on his neighbours Farme that he bought. And at the last when the other hadde almoste remoued all his goods from thence, this sickly Farmer said to him: now neyghbor tel me, are you driuen to lye within another man for the time, or haue you got a Farme of your owne? no I thanke God, said he, I haue gotten at the laste one of mine owne, whiche I haue gotten within this seuenighte: for when you gaue me leaue to tarrie vntil this time in your house, I promise you I knew not then that it woulde be solde, but as good hap was, a very friend of mine séeing me in suche a distresse for wante of a house, tolde me, that this Farme that I haue now got, would be sold: wherevppon I made haste to the partie that oughte it, and so I made short worke considering my greate necessitie, and haue now made it sure though I payde for my pleasure. I pray you neyghboure, saide the other, lyeth it in a good soyle, and is it farre hence? no, saide he, it is within this foure or fiue miles, and it is verye good grounde, and lyeth in a good soyle. Where­aboute (saide he) doth it lye, and of whom did you buy it? wot you of whome? saide the other: no surely (saide he) how shoulde I know vnlesse you tel me? truely, saide the other, I had verye good lucke to hit of it, it is the Farme that you did sende me to buy for you, which then by no meanes he would sel, but nowe of late (whatsoeuer y ^e cause was) he was enforst to sel it. Wel, said the other, I would it had bin my chaunce to haue knowne [Page] y ^t, for then I would not haue bought yours. And (said the other) I would not haue sold you my Farme, if I had not thought my selfe sure of the Farme twentie miles hence, that was promi­sed me. But I thanke God now as it chaunst (saide he) I hap­ned as wel. Then sayd his neighbour that bought his, but now there is no remedie (said he) God sende you to do wel of yours, and God graunte I maye prosper on myne: and so they depar­ted.

That felow was a craftie Harlot, y ^t sold his Farme, for I smel the circumstaunces of the matter, that he defrauded his neighbor of that at the first, when he put him in trust to buy it for him.

He didde so in déede: but hys good meaning neygh­bour coulde not perceiue it, neither didde mistrust him: but as crafte and disceite haue neuer good ende, so trueth bewrayeth falshod by one mean or other: for not long after, one that dwel­led in the same Towne, where this craftie fellowe had bought the Farme, chaunst to be in the companye of this sickely Far­mer, who (when he knewe that he dwelled there) saide: one of our neighbours hath gotten a good Farme with you, as I vn­derstande, I praye you what paide he for it? forsooth saide the other, as I hearde it reported, he hadde it cheape ynough, for he paide vnder twentie poundes for it: yea, saide the beguiled Farmer, I woulde haue giuen thirtie poundes a quarter of a yeare since for it, and I sente him worde by the same man that nowe hath boughte it: but he woulde not then forgo it, thoughe before he was determined to sel it. Then said the other, he hath sold it now for a good deale lesse. And so there was no more talk of it at that time: but as soone as this fellowe came home, hée went to him that hadde solde the saide Farme (for he bare hym good will) and saide, you haue solde youre Farme verye cheape as I vnderstand: I would, said he, y ^t I had solde it cheaper, so y ^t it had bin to such a one as would haue kept touche with me, & paide me my mony at my day. Then said the other, did you not receiue al your mony therfore presētly? no nor scāt half, said he. [Page] Then saide the fellowe: I was in companie of a verie honest man of late, that woulde haue giuen you thirtie pounde for it, or more rather than he woulde haue gone without it: then saide he, he shoulde haue had it, if I had knowne so much: he told me himselfe, saide the fellow, that about a quarter of a yeare since, he would haue bought it, hearing then that you were determi­ned to sell it: and thervpon he sent you word thereof: that is not so, saide the other, or else if he sente vnto me to buy it, the mes­sage was not done vnto me: can you tel, saide he, by whom hée sent that message? marrie saide the felowe, he sente the message by him that nowe hath boughte it of you: is it euen so? saide he: then I smell a Ratte: who is it I pray you, that tolde you thus? and that sent me word aboute the buying of my Farme? & then he tolde him who it was, and where he dwelled: and so he gaue him thankes, and then the one departed from the other.

I beléeue he that solde the Farme thought long, vn­til he spake with the same man that sent him such word, & that woulde so faine haue bought it.

That is verie true, for the next daye after he wente vnto him, and saide: I vnderstand that you sent a neighbour of yours aboute a quarter of a yeare since, for the buying of a Farme for you that is in such a place. Then the beguiled Far­mer saide, I did so indéede: I praye you saide the other, what woulde you haue giuen for it with a good wil? forsooth, said hée, I bad him offer in my behalfe thirtie pounde for it, and more rather than faile. And what aunswere brought he you againe? saide the other: he tolde me, said the beguiled Farmer, that hée woulde not then sel it, for he had no néede, though before he had an occasion so to doe: and who was it, saide the other, that thus you did put in trust to make & conclude this bargaine for you? forsooth, saide he, euen he that boughte it of late, and that nowe doeth dwell in it. Doe not you vnderstand, saide the other, how long it is since he bought the same? yes truely, saide he, if I may beléeue him, for he himselfe tolde me that he bought it not past foure or fiue days before he came to dwel in it. Wel honest mā, saide the other, I am he of whom he bought the same Farme be [Page] nowe dwelleth in, and to whom you sent him to buy it for you. You are defrauded, and I am misused: why so? said the begui­led Farmer: for at that time when you sent him to me, (which is a quarter of a yeare since at the least) hée concluded with mée for it, and paide me ten poundes in hande, which is all I can get yet of him for it: And therfore he tolde you a false lie, whereby he hath defrauded you of your Farme, and me of my price: but wil you stand to this (if néed be) said hée, that you sent him to me for that purpose? Yea that I wil, saide the other, for I haue good occasion therto: I was the first that tolde him of it, and put him in trust (bicause I was sicke) to go vnto you, & to driue the price for me, through whose craftie and false dealing, it séemeth that both you and I are deceiued. Wel, I feare, saide the other, tho­ugh he hath deceiued vs at the first, he will bée woorsse deceiued himself at the last. Therfore be ready at al times when néed is, I pray you: you shal not néed to feare, but that I will be readie to witnesse the truth. And then he that solde the craftie fellowe his Farme, departed and went home.

But would not this craftie felow pay him the rest of his monie?

He would not pay it him, as you shal heare, for with­in two or thrée dayes after he came vnto him and saide, I pray you pay me the reste of my monie you owe me for my Farme: For your Farme? saide the other, I owe you none, I paid you al your mony in hand that I bought it for. Haue you so? said he, you paide me but ten poundes in hand, and al wise men might iudge me to be a very foole to sel it for so litle, for it is wel worth as much more as you gaue me for it. I trusted you vpon your owne worde, without writing or witnesse, for the paymente of the rest, therfore you do not honestly vse me to deny it. If I had as euil a conscience as you, I might as wel claime thrée times as much as you owe me, as you to denie all that you owe me. But as I claime no more than my due, so I pray you deny me not of that is my due. If I owe you any thing, saide the other, then get it by law, otherwise you shal haue no more of me than you haue had. I perceiue, (saide he that solde the Farme) you [Page] meane now to put me to my trumpe, for that you are sure, I haue neither Obligation nor Bil of debt for the payment of the same, neither know any witnesses that heard the bergaine be­twéene you and me: but if you were as godly as craftie, and as honest as you are deceiteful, you would not vse me so euill, for trusting you so wel. But ther is no remedie, if I lose it, I may thank mine owne folly. And so he went away from this crafty fellow not very wel pleased.

I coulde not blame him, but did he leaue him so?

No I warrant you, as he handled the matter, he had bene better to haue paide him his money with quietnesse: for he did not only sue him by a byll of complaint, for the rest of his money, but also reuealed all his crafte and deceite to y ^e Iudge, which he vsed, in defrauding his neighbor of the Farm: which when the Iudge hearde: what, saide he, haue we such a fellowe dwelling among vs? I woulde haue thoughte there was not such a one to be founde in all our Countrey. If this be true that you tel (as I beléeue you know to whom you speake) (for it is no smal dāger to tel aly to a Iudge) I wil make y ^t al they here­after, that shal dwel in the Countrey of Mauqsun, shal beware how they deceiue any. Therfore bring him before me, said the Iudge, and I wil dresse him according to his deserts. I thanke you my Lord, saide he that complayned vnto him, it shall not be long before he shal be brought before you. And immediately after he came home, he caused the sayde craftie fellow to be ar­rested. So that there was no remedie but that he muste néedes appeare before the Iudge. And at the daye of hys appearaunce, he came into the Courte where the Iudge dydde sit, and he that did sue him, was there readie also. And then by and by the Iudge called for him by hys name, and caused him to come before him. To whom the Iudge saide: are you he my friend, that bought the Lease of a Farme of such a man? yea my lord, said he: what did you giue him for it, said y ^e Iudge: forsooth said he, I gaue him x. l. But for howe much did he sell it vnto you, said y ^e Iudge? for x. l. said he: he y ^t selleth such a Farme as I vnderstande that is, saide the Iudge, for ten poundes, eyther he [Page] knoweth not what he doth, or else will neuer thryue. Come hi­ther you that sold the Farme, said the Iudge: For what summe did you sel your Farme to him? for .xx. l. my Lord, saide hée, of which he gaue me .x. l. in hand, and I gaue him half a yeres day of payment for the rest. Where is your Bill of det, or Obligati­on that you toke of him for the same? said the Iudge: My Lord, said he, I haue none, I thought him to be so honest a man, and trusted his honesty so wel, that I neither required it of him, no [...] yet he offered it to mée. Then saide the Iudge: Haue you any witnesses, that he hath not paide you all? or that he oweth you any? No my Lord, said he, as I trusted him without writing, so I credited him without witnesses. Then saide the Iudge: I can sée none other, for that you haue neither writing nor wit­nesse, but that you haue al the monie you are like to haue. Wel my Lorde, saide he, if I lose it I knowe the woorste: I know in my conscience he oweth it mée, which will be a burthen to his conscience if he deny it. And dost thou say of thy conscience, said the Iudge, that hée doeth owe thée tenne poundes? Yea, my Lorde, sayde hée, and hée knoweth of his conscience, that hée o­weth mée no lesse. Marke well what I saye, thou fellowe that boughtest this mannes [...]rme, sayde the Iudge, hée char­geth thée déepely, that thou knowest of thy conscience, that thou doest owe vnto him tenne poundes: A naughtie conscience. Howe sayest thou? doest thou owe it him of thy conscience, or no? And then hée sayde: My Lorde, of my conscience I owe it him not. The one of you, sayde the Iudge, hath but a slender conscience. Take héede my frende, thoughe for wante of Writing or other testimonie, thou mayest bleare mine eyes: yet for all that, thou canste not deceiue God, which is the chiefe Iudge of all. Though thou shouldest carrie this matter cleare, and bée quitte of it before me thy earthly Iudge: yet thy matter must be ripped vppe a­gaine before Christ at the laste day, the heauenlye Iudge, who without either writing or witnesse, doth and will then knowe the truthe quickly. And then (thoughe nowe by fraude thou deceiue this plaine dealing man of his ten poundes) if hée finde that thou doest owe vnto him so much, thou haddest bene better [Page] to haue giuen ten times more than thou owest him, thā to giue him one groate lesse than his due. For I assure thée, and truste to it, that the euerlasting torments of Hell fire are prepared for the wicked, and suche as defraude their brethren of their right. Therfore if thou owe it, pay it vnto him, and driue not off till Christ the highe Iudge compell thée to pay thy debtes to God: for then thou shalt be alwayes paying it in Hell, and thou shalt neuer come out, vntil thou haue paide the laste farthing, which wil neuer be paide. So that by defrauding this man of tenne poundes, which is but drosse, and earthlie riches, thou wilt be­reaue thy selfe of the kingdome of Heauen, which is an euerla­sting treasure. Wherfore thou were better open the truth now willingly, whereby Christ may be thy frende at the latter day: than to haue it opened before Christ against thy wil then, wherby he will be thy vtter enimie and committe thée to Hell fire to be a companion of Diuels for euer. Therfore nowe tell me the truth, doest thou owe him ten pounds or no? My Lord, said the fellow, I owe him none, for if I had ought him any, he woulde haue had something to shew. Well, saide the Iudge, seing this way wil not serue, I wil go another way to worke, and if it be founde that thou owest it (as I doubt not but to sifte it out as I will vse the matter) thou art like to smoke for dissembling with me, and to pay dearly for euerie lie thou hast made. Sirra, said the Iudge to him that solde the Farme, did not you make him a quittanie for the ten poundes he paide you? Yes my Lord, said he, for he willed me to make him one for the receite therof: and then I made him a quittance, and sealed it, and deliuered it be­fore two or thrée honest witnesses. Loe, saide the Iudge, the na­tures of these two are shewed herein, for this man that sold the Farme, of a good and honest nature, did aske him no bil of debt for the ten poundes he had to paie him: but the other missetrust­full of him that trusted him, did require a quittance for the ten poundes he paide him. Wel, there is a great difference betwéen fraude and faithful meaning. Where is that quittance, said the Iudge, that this honest plaine meaning man made you? For­sooth my Lorde, saide he, I must néedes confesse that I had such [Page] a one, but I haue lost it. I perceiue, saide the Iudge, A false shift. that there is something in it, that wil rather make against you than with you, for that you faine you haue loste it, and all bicause you are loath to shewe it. But seing you wil not shewe your quittance, I wil make you shew it, or else pay him his ten pounds againe which you say you paide him: and then you had bene as good to haue paide him the ten pounds you owe him, with your wil, as to paie him ten more against your wil. We haue a law and an order here, that al aquittances and General quittances with di­uers other writings must be recorded: and if the same bée not recorded, the acquittance is of no force, and it shall be lawefull for the partie that receiued the mony (if he wil) to claime it and receiue it again. Now if you had such a quittance, and the same not recorded, then it is lawful for him to claime the ten pounds againe that you paide him, if he will. And if the same be recor­ded, then we will haue it quickly out of the recorded writings. And then the Iudge commaunded one of his Clearkes to search the Recordes therefore, and with spéede to bring vnto him the true copie therof. Which the Iudges Cleark did, who serching the Recordes for the same quittance, found it and brought it to the Iudge his maister: which when he had viewed wel and red throughly, he said: I perceiue it was not for nothing, A good way to try the truth. that you had lost your quittaunce, and that you were so loth to bring it to light: here it is manifest that you paide this mā ten pounds, but here is another clause doeth followe, that quite condem­neth thée, which is, that thou hast paide him ten pounds in part of paiment of twentie pounds, my Lord said the craftie fellow, that is more than I bad him, and the other saide, more than I willed him to doe: but indéede I remember when he was be­ginning to write the quittaunce, he asked me if it shoulde be a generall quittaunce? and I said no: and then he asked me if the ten pounds was in part of paymente, of anye of the summe or not? I tolde him then it was in parte of paymente of twentie pounds. Send for the Notarie that writ the quittance, said the Iudge, and bidde him come to me with spéede▪ so one went for him and brought him before the Iudge, who confest the same [Page] words that the honest man had spoken before: and though (said the Notarie) neither of thē willed me to write it, yet I thought good to set it in, for the better declaring of the truth if néed shold require: thou hast done verie wel therein, saide the Iudge, and like an honest and wel meaning manne, and as the matter fal­leth out, A good No­tarie. it hath brought the trueth to light, whiche a false fel­lowe here wente aboute to suppresse: thou noughtie, varlet saide the Iudge, howe durst thou make such a manifest lye vn­to me, when I charged thée so vehemently on thy conscience to tel trueth? but rather how durst thou presume to take it on thy conscience, that thou oughtst him nothing, before the maiestie of God that knew thy conscience? But thoughe thou thoughtst to outface me and this honest man, Marke. (thinking thy selfe sure that there was none to witnesse against thée) yet God that will ney­ther be mocked nor outfaced, hath brought both writing & wit­nesse against thée: my Lorde saide the Notarie, I read it before them both, before it was sealed and deliuered, and they sound no fault therewith: the one sealed it gladly, and the other recei­ued it willinglie. This is both manifest and apparant, said the Iudge, for this fellow confest before, that he had such a quittāce of him, which he would not haue receiued vnlesse he had liked it, and it had bin according to trueth. Therefore come hyther sirra, saide the Iudge, and stande neare, that you maye heare your Iudgement for your two notable lyes that you made be­fore me, and for the defrauding of this man of his mony. You shall, according to our Law, kéepe silence and speake neuer a word to any for the space of sixe monthes, that is, for either lye thrée monthes, (vnlesse you be required therto by some Ruler or Iudge, for some waightie matter or cause) & you shal weare on your sléeue al the whyle, an H. and an L for a Hurtful Lyer: and yet you may say that I am a fauourable Iudge vnto you: for if I had put thée to thy oth (as I might haue done verie wel) I knowe thou wouldst haue forsworne thy self which fearing, I did not require thée thereto: and then halfe thy goods shoulde haue bin lost, which the King should haue had, and thy tongue should haue bin cut out of thy head, for a periured person. Thus [Page] thou maist perceiue I haue vsed thée gentlye. And then, the Iudge saide to him to whō the debte was due, howe long is it since you firste required youre money of him? Note this Iudgement. forsooth my Lorde saide he, two monethes and something more: thē my iudgemente is, saide the Iudge, that he shall paye you your debte, whiche is tenne pounds, and for euery moneth since so muche as the debte is, that is for euerye month tenne pounds whiche amounteth in the whole to thyrtie poundes. This is my iudgement, & sée that yée performe it in any wise. And the man vpon whom the iudgement was giuen, was go­ing from the Bar: but the Iudge said, sirra, you must stay a lit­tle, I haue another thing to say to you yet: & then he called be­fore him the other man, whō he defrauded of his Farme, and y ^t put him in trust to buy it for him. To whom the Iudge saide: did you neuer desire to buy the Farme that this felow bought, of whō I gaue iudgement of late? yes my Lord, saide he, I was verie desirous to buy it, but I was sicke y ^t I coulde not goe a­boute it my selfe, and I spedde therafter: did you put no friend of yours in trust, said the Iudge, to make the bargaine for you? yes forsooth my Lord, said he: who was it said the Iudge? truly my Lord, saide he, euen this same man that bought the same Farme, whom I requested (for that I was sicke and not well able to goe, and bycause I hadde a greater confidence in hym than in anye other of my neighbours) to doe so muche for me, to enquire of the manne that oughte the same, whether he woulde sell hys Lease thereof or not, saying, I vnderstande that he meaneth to putte it awaye, and bycause I dwel here where I haue no certentie, and looke euerye daye to be putte out of it, I will giue him for it as muche as it is worthe with reason: and if you can not gette it vnder thirtie pounds, I will giue it: and rather than I woulde goe with­out it, I will giue him more: therefore I praye you, saide I, driue the bargaine for me as nye as you may, & make it vp for me before you come home againe if you can. And then he pro­mised me faithfully, that he woulde doe more for me than that, [Page] and he went thither, and when he came home, he tolde me that though before he was determined to sel it, then he would in no wise depart withal: were you the first that tolde him of it, saide the Iudge: yea my Lord saide he, thereof I am sure: wel saide the Iudge, what house bought you then to dwel in? forsooth my Lord, said he, within a while after he came vnto me, and prof­fred me his Farme, saying that he had another Farme promi­sed him, aboue twentie miles hence: and so, I for lacke of a house was constrayned to paye vnto him, his owne price for his Farme, whiche was fortie pounds, thoughe it were not halfe so good as the Farme that he hath n [...]we, for which as I vnderstande he paide but twentie pounds: yea said the Iudge, and if he might haue gone forwarde as he beganne, he woulde haue paide but tenne pounds: saying further, this geare I feare will fal out but madly, for it beginneth verie suspitiously. How long was it after, said the Iudge, ere you entred into his house? forsooth my Lorde, saide hée, a quarter of a yeare and more, and when I was enforst of necessity to come thither to dwel, he de­sired me to stay from cōming thither for one seuenight, & to let him remaine there so long, for saide he, I was disappointed of the Farme twentie miles hence, wherof I told you, but I hope to get another shortly: and so I was content to lette him tarrie there for so long, and when I came to dwel there at the ende of the Seuenight, he had almost remoued all his goods and stuffe from thence: and then I asked him where he had gotten a house so quickly: marie neighbor said he, I haue got the same Farme, that you willed me to buye for you, the Lease wherof I bought but within thys foure or fiue dayes. And thus as, he said, hée gotte the Farme, whiche at the first I desired him to gette for me. Indéede saide the Iudge, a man maye be in good hope of a house, when alreadie he is sure of one of his owne: I smel saide the Iudge this geare welynough. A Iugler by his trinckets is easie to be knowen. Then saide the Iudge to the fellow (vppon whom lately he gaue iudgement) tel me truely and lye not (for lyes are so deare that you were better tel truth) how long is it, since thou boughtst the Farme thou now dwellest in? whereat [Page] he helde his peace and spake neuer a worde: he is driuen into such narrow roome, said the Iudge, that he can neither go back­ward nor forward, for if he say, he bought it when I thinke hee did, then he bewrayeth himselfe: if he say he boughte it at suche time as he tolde his neighbour that bought his Farme, then he that solde it to him (he feareth) wil witnesse against him. Wel, séeing you will not aunswere me, sayde the Iudge, I will sée if another wil aunswere me: tel me, saide the Iudge to hym y ^e solde him his Farme, how long is it since he bought his Farm of you? my Lorde saide he, it is almost fiue monthes since, for on such a day, I receiued the tenne pounds of him for the same: then sayde the Iudge to the other that bought the craftie felows Farme, howe long doe you thinke it since you sente your saide neighbour to buye or conclude for the same Farme for you? for­sooth, saide he, my Lorde I am sure it was about the same time. Then, said the Iudge, I haue another witnesse here that wil I trow agree with you both: and then he looked on the quittance, A good witnes. and he founde that it was dated and sealed the same daye that the man saide he receiued his money, loe, said the Iudge, how iumpe and iustly is truth tryed by tryall: if falshod be not su­borned with friendship, money, or giftes, she could neuer pre­uaile as in many places she doeth. These craftie and wicked wretches, do tie one mischiefe to another, & linke diuelish pra­ctises togither: for when this craftie fellowe had defrauded hys neighbour that putte him in truste of the Farme, he lefte not there, but practised to deceiue this other man of the one halfe of hys money: and whereas he solde him hys Farme, whyche woulde bring hym to wealth: he practised to beguile hym of his money to bring him to pouertie: therefore stande neare, sayde the Iudge, thou false and craftie fellowe, I muste néeds pro­céede againe againste thée in iudgement, and the seconde iudge­mente will be worse than the first. And now for that thou didst make a lye to thy neighbour, whiche put thée in truste, telling hym that this manne woulde not sell the Lease of his Farme, whereby thou deceiuedst him, and boughte it from him, (which lye was to his great hindrance, and the cause he had it not) my [Page] iudgement, is that for the space of two monthes more, for thys only, without any paying any thing to him (for y ^t as the matter falleth out, he shal be otherwaies recōpēst) thou shalt not speak to any body, vnlesse before a Iudge or Ruler, as is before said. And shal also al y ^e while weare on thy sléeue, and an H. & an L for a Hurtful Lyer: & bicause thou hast deceiued thy neighbor of the Farme, which he put thée in trust to buy for him, therefore my iudgemēt is, y ^t he shal haue the Lease of the same, & enioy it as wel as though he had bought it: paying to thée againe the xx. l. which thou hast & must pay for it: & bycause thou didst giue lesse than thy neighbour did offer for it, by .x. l. therefore he shal oc­cupie & enioy thy Farme, which thou sold vnto thy neighbour, for the space of ten yeres. And sée that thou performe this iudge­ment, as thou wilt auoyde a greter danger. And as thou likest this, saide the Iudge, deceiue thy neighbour againe, that doeth put thée in trust.

Out of al doubt he was rightly serued, your law in this case is a very good law: if we had such a law w ^t vs & so wel executed, so many would not be defrauded by them they trust.

Are not they thus handled with you, that beguile thē that put them in trust?

No, no, we haue no such law for thē, & I feare if there were, their doings wold not be so narrowly sifted, nor their of­fēces so duely corrected: Nay rather w ^t vs, one y ^t is put in trust, may buy & enioy any thing frō his neighbor w ^t his own mony, & the thing wil be rather laughed at, than lamēted: & he y ^t is de­frauded, shal be rather mocked than moned. I can tell you as pretie a tricke as this, that was done with vs: but the defrau­der was not therfore so handled as with you.

I pray you tel it, and I wil giue you the hearing.

I wil not stick for y ^t. There was a Gētlemā vnderstood y ^t certain lād & other cōmodities wold be sold, & y ^t very resonably, which lay so necessary for his purpose, y ^t he could not haue wisht it better. And for y ^t he was aged, & not wel able to ride & trauel: & also hauing a son both of good wit, dexteritie, & knowledge, be­ing very wel acquainted & able to make good friends, called his [Page] son vnto him, & said: son I vnderstand that such a house & Land with other cōmodities will be solde, and for that the same ly­eth so necessarie for me as is possible, I woulde haue thee to tra­uel therin for me: whiche thou mayest easlier doe, and bring to passe than I, for that thou art better able to trauell, & hast more knowledge therein: father, saide his sonne, I am at your com­maundement, and wil trauel therein as much as I am able, I doubting neuer a whit to bring this your desire to passe. Then saide his father, if thou dost wel for me, thou canst not do ill for thy selfe, wherefore I would haue thée to goe about it with all spéede, and thou shalt carrie so much money with thée, as wyll purchase the same: and in any wise purchase it in my name, to me & my heires for euer. Thē said his sō: father, in whose name else should I purchace it? the mony is yours y ^t shall buy it, then must the lands be yours y ^t owes y ^e mony: therfore doubt not, I wil do al things herein for you in such order, y ^t you shal haue a good cause to think better of me (if it be possible you may) Wel, said his father, I do not doubt but thou wilt. And then his son toke his leaue of his father, & carried the mony with him for the purchasing of the same: who within a while after, what throgh his trauel, what through friendship, & what through rewards, he purchased the same, and had it vnder seale, and so made him readie to go homeward to his father.

But I praye you tel me, did he purchase it in his fa­thers name, or not?

Belike he had forgottē his fathers name, & therfore he put in his owne name, which he remembred better.

A good son, if he had bin hanged a while a sunning to drye: it must néedes grieue his father when he hearde of it.

That is not to be doubted. Wel, to procéed with this fraudulent sonne to his faithful father, he made as much spéede homewarde as he coulde, rather glad of his Lands y ^t he had got falsely, than ashamed of y ^e defrauding of his father. And assoone as he came home, his father reioysing at his comming, said: sonne, thou arte welcome home: howe haste thou spedde? for­sooth father saide he, I haue spedde verye wel I thanke God, [Page] I haue gone through with the purchase: then, sayde his father, then I may take possession of it when I will: No father, sayde he, you muste not take possession, it is I that muste take pos­session: for to put you out of doubt, I pray you be not angrye, I haue purchased it in mine owne name (notwithstanding it shal be at your commaundement:) which when his father heard, he toke it so grieuously (especially for that his owne sonne serued him so) y ^t he liued not long after, but dyed euen for very sorow.

Such a son is better to hang than to holde, oh that hée had dwelled in our country, he should haue ben so handled and hāpred that few or none for feare durst haue vsed their fathers in such order: and I do not think but that he had some condigne punishment for the same.

He was neither toucht nor trubled therfore, nor had any punishment for it, vnlesse you cal that punishmēt, to enioy quietly the lands y ^t he so falsely bought with his fathers mony.

Was y ^t al the harme he had? now surely it was great shame, y ^t he was suffred: either you haue no law for correcting such a fault, else the same is not wel executed.

Truly many with vs are so slenderly harde whē they cōplaine of such like iniuries, and such treacherous parts are so boulstred or borne withal, that they thinke it is better, to reste quietly with y ^e harme or losse, than with further trouble to spēd & consume their mony, & be neuer the nearer: yea and perhaps his father would not complaine of his sonne.

Such notorious enormities shold be redressed, & such wicked dealers should worthily be punished, though y ^e party so misused did neuer cōplain, if they were cōmitted in our coūtry.

How can that be? for if one complaine not, howe can he haue remedie?

Yes welynough, for our King hath his most trustie & priuie Espials, that trauel purposely through his whole Do­minions, only secretely to learne and search out such notorious misdemeanors, who in their own persons, reueale secretely to the King, all such notable mischiefes: as they haue truely lear­ned, and surely searched out by their trauel, and they do not on­ly [Page] giue to the king in writing the names and places, where they dwel, that so offend: but also their names and dwelling places, that are so molested & misused: to which priuy Spials the King giues great liuings, and also bountiful rewards.

If such Spials were with vs, out of doubt one or o­ther would kill them quickly.

Yea but how can they kil them before they do know them? These Spials are charged on paine of death, not to vtter or reueale the cause of their trauell: for none but the King him selfe doth knowe them that are appointed for this purpose. So that it can not bée knowne, vnlesse they reueale it them selues. And moreouer, these Espials dare not certifie the King of any vntruthe, for if they doe, they shall die for it: therfore it standeth them vppon to learne and search out the matter aduisedly and diligently, and to bée of a good and sure ground, before they cer­tifie the King thereof. And to make the sayde Espials to bée the more diligent in their trauell & triall out of such notorious mis­demeanours, and wicked practises: the moe matters that they haue to certifie the King, the moe gifts and rewardes they shal haue of the King, for the King giueth euery one of them a libe­rall rewarde for euery such notorious fault, practise, or misde­meanour, that they so declare vnto him. And the King him self in his owne person, hath the hearing, determining, and iudging of euery such notorious fact or matter, that is informed him by his saide Espials. And by these meanes, wicked deceiuers and diuelish practisers are iustly punished by the King: & the opres­sed and defrauded are reuenged, restored, and helped, thoughe they themselues do not complaine.

What a worthie order and notable policie is this? wherby the wicked is punished, the innocent helped, and truth and equitie defended? Surely your Prince is much to be com­mended, that bestoweth himself such liberall giftes to such fin­ders out of faultes, wherby all this is accomplished. I woulde to God we had such Spials with vs, to trauell abroad to learne and search out such.

By these Espials our King of Mauqsun did so spée­dilie [Page] and earnestlie helpe a poore wronged Widow to hir right, that therfore his fame will neuer be quenched.

I beséech you to tell it, for I thinke the time long till I heare it.

As one of the Kings priuie Espials was trauelling, An excellent example of the restoring of a wi­dowe vnto hir right myssused by hir sonne in lawe. he spied a poore woman sitting in hir doore spinning, who asked hir the way to a towne hée was trauelling vnto, and shée tolde him the right way thither: which poore woman perceiu [...]ng the man by his spetting to bée drie, desired him to drinke a cuppe of hir small drinke: whiche he did not refuse, but thanked hir for hir gentlenesse. And then shée brought him into hir poore house, and did sette before him bread and chéese, and brought him such drinke as she hadde, whereof he did both eate and drinke well. And whyles hée was sitting there, hée demaunded of the sayde Woman, what Countrie woman she was? Who tolde him, that shée was not borne far from thence. And then he asked hir if the got all hir liuing with spinning? Yea, saide she, I thanke God for it: for though it bée a poore trade, yet it is a true trade. But sir, said shée, though I bee now in such a poore case, I haue bene in a great deale better. Howe then came you thus empo­uerished, saide he? Truly I will tell you, sayde shée, the whole matter, if it were not for troubling of you. Nay, said he againe, it will bée no trouble to mée, nor harme to you: therefore tell the truth in all pointes as nigh as you can, for if I can doe you no good, assure your selfe I will doe you no harme. Sir, I doe not tell it vnto you, saide she, to the intent to haue any redresse thereby, but only to shewe the simple state I am nowe in, and the case I was in before, concerning prosperitie or worldlie fe­licitie. It was my chaunce when I was not past nine or tenne yeares of age, to be caried by a frende of my father and mother, a hundreth miles hence at the leaste, to be brought vppe with a Gentlewoman, who loued me very well, bicause I was some­thing obedient and diligente vnto hir: whose seruice I chaun­ged not for any, but tarried still with my saide Mystresse vntil shée died. I being then about thrée or foure and twentie yeares of age, my Maister was made a Knighte, whereby his Wyfe [Page] was a Ladie at hir death: Who a little before hir death sente for hir husbande to come and speake with hir: and hée (as shée desired,) came presently vnto hir: at whiche time shée toke him fast by the hande, and sayde: Sir, I féele my selfe now so sick, that I knowe I shall not long bée your Wyfe, and I trust that you can not say, but that euer since our mariage I haue bene a true, louing and obediente Wyfe vnto you. And as I neuer requested any thing of you of any greate importaunce, so nowe at my death I praye you graunte mée a boone, which you may easilye perfourme. And I assure you sir, sayde shée, it wyll be no euill, but good, and not to your hindraunce, but greately for your profite, ioye, and quietnesse. What is it wyfe? sayde he, and then I will tell you whether I will or not. Nay, said shée, I beseech you graunt it mée before, it wil be no more harme to you than I haue sayde, therefore if euer you loued mée deny me not. Which when he hearde hir desire so earnestly, knowing also that shée woulde will him to nothing, that shoulde hurt or hinder him, sayde as followeth: Wife, for as much as I know that thou loueste mée dearelye, and wishest mée well, I wyll graunte it thée whatsoeuer it bée, if it lye in my power to per­fourme. Yes sir, sayd shée, or else I would not demaund you to doe it. And nowe this it is: I haue broughte vppe a poore Girle a greate whyle, and though hir frendes or kinred are vn­knowne to you and mée, yet I knowe hir good conditions, hir honeste behauiour, hir modeste manners, and hir diligent ser­uice to bée suche, that I estéeme hir a greate deale better there­fore, though shée bée of a base parentage, than though she were a Lordes daughter withoute the same. And you are not igno­ra [...]te sir, that shée hath so vnfaynedlie borne such an affection to you, and fauour to mée, that shée hath loued our children moste tenderly. And for that I shall leaue behinde me two young moo­therlesse children, and an other that is our eldest sonne of riper yeares (whom I beséech God, he may be as toward and wel di­sposed hereafter, as he is froward and euil disposed nowe) I am much afrayde least the yong babes, by a stepmother should, bée stepchildren: and that when you their father were abrode, they [Page] should be misused at home. And as I haue a gret care for them, so I haue no small regarde vnto you, A strange sute. fearing leaste you shoulde marry one that rather loueth your liuing than your self, as you shal bée allured thereto I am sure, wherby you should not only muche misse mée, for your owne quietnesse and ease: but also for the good looking too and well bringing vp of our children. And for that I knowe none that will obey you, loue you and regard you so muche as I, neither make so muche of our children, and haue such care of them as I, excepte it be this my seruaunte, of whose faithfulnesse, honestie, loue, and modestie I haue hadde such trial, that it is very harde to finde hir matche: therfore my most humble and laste sute vnto you is, to marrye this my ser­uant and Maide after my death, at such time as you shal think conuenient and méete, which I doubt not but you will doe, for that you haue promised mee. And then he saide to hir againe: For as muche as I haue promised you to perfourme your re­quest, I will God willing marrie hir, if it be your chance to die before mée. And within a whyle after, my good Ladie and My­stresse died, and then my Maister according to his promise, did marrie mée, with whom I liued after aboue twentie yeares in great worship, quietnesse, and wealth: whome I so loued and o­beyed, that hée thought he had his first wife. And I brought vp his children so carefully and tenderly, that they neuer myssed their owne moother. Then sayde the Kings Espiall, to whom shée tolde the tale: If this be true, then you are a Ladie stil, for though you haue lost your liuing by some missehappe, yet you can not lose your title by any mischaunce. A poore Lady, sayde she, that is faine to spinne for hir liuing. And when I had bene married to this worthy Gentleman and Knight more than .xx. yeares, God toke him away by a sicknesse that hée hadde, to my great griefe and sorrowe, yea, and to my vtter vndoing: as you shall perceiue hereafter. For my husbandes eldest sonne, who neither estéemed his father nor loued mée, after his father was dead, brought me by fairs wordes, to walke with him into my grounde, and when hée hadde me in a little groue of Wood, hée, stripped mée out of all my cloathes, and putte vppon mée suche [Page] simple attyre as hée hadde prepared for the purpose, and saide: a beggar my father founde thée, and a beggar hys sonne will leaue thée: thou haste hadde pleasure y­nough to be a Lady these twentie yeares, therfore therest of thy life, thou shalt playe the beggar, leaste thou forgette from whence thou camest: dost thou thinke to haue anye of my fathers liuing? no I warrāt thée. And as it hath greued me to sée thée in my mothers place all this while, so nowe it doth reioice mée to sée thée in these beggars ragges. And then I knéeled on my knées, and began to speake vnto him, but he would not suffer me, saying: if thou prate to me one word that I like not, I wil kil thée: therefore if thou wilte haue thy life, thou shalte promise and sweare vnto me, that thou shalt neuer sue me in any Courte for any landes or li­uing here, neither shalte thou complaine to anye Iudge of this that I nowe doe to thée: and moreouer, with as much spéede, to goe out of this countrey, and that thou shalte not dwell within a hundred miles of this place: all whiche, if thou wilt not sweare to performe, here I wil dispatch thée and hereaue thée of thy life. And then I, A compelled othe. for the safegarde of my life did sweare vnto him, that all this I woulde per­forme, and so haue I done euer since vntill this daye: for I wente then from thence in all the haste I coulde, partly for feare of my life, but chiefly for kéeping my othe, and here I haue dwelled euer since, wythoute complayning to anye Iudge of this greate wrong and iniury he hath done to me, and without suing or troubling him for my liuing (accor­ding to my othe) whiche he kéepeth moste wrongfullye and wickedly from me. And thus sir, saide she, thoroughe mini­string of talke, you know by what occasion I am come to this pore estate, yet as wel contented withall, saide she, as when I was in my greatest prosperitie. It is maruel, said he, that you doe not finde some meanes to get your lyuing or some parte of it. Alas sir, saide she, I neuer looke to haue any of it, neither do meane, according to my othe, to com­plaine to any Iudge or Magistrate aboute it. A constrained [Page] othe by Gods lawe and mans lawe is counted as no othe, said he: therfore, I tell you truely, if it were my case as it is yours, I woulde séeke some remedie to ge [...]te it: what is the Gentlemans name; and where doeth he dwell that thus did vse you? saide he. And then she tolde him both hys name, and the place where he dwelled. But I thinke, said she, he is dead by this time: therefore, saide shée, God for­giue him and I doe, Surely, sayde hée, God wyll blesse you the better; bicause you take al these iniuries so patient­ly. And now, saide he, for youre good refreshing of mée I most hartily thanke you, And if it may lye in my power to shewe you any pleasure, you shal be as sure of it, as you haue giuen me drinke to [...]uenth my thirste. And it may so chance, that I may do you some vnlooked for pleasure. And the Kings Espiall went on his iorny, & she [...]to hir spinning.

She little knew, good womā, that he, she so curte­ouslie vsed, and to whome shée tolde hir troublesome tale, was the Kings appointed Spiall for the learning, sear­ching and trying of suche kinde of matters, and that God woulde prepare a remedie for hir so soone as he did. It was onelie the Lordes working, that putte it into his hearte, to aske hir the way, and that putte it into hir minde to offer him drink. God workes al things by maruellous meanes, if we would consider it, for the helping of the innocent and godly. Nowe tell on your tale I pray you.

This man, to whom this pore Lady declared the cause of this hir pouertie, made his iorny through that coū ­trie where she told y ^t hir wicked son in law did dwel. And when he came nigh to that place, he did not onlie vnder­stand & learn of diuers perfectly, that the same Gentleman was then liuing, & inhabiting there: but also, y ^t such a womā was his fathers wife, & married hir being his maid, at his wiues earnest desire on hir death bed; and al things besides as she had before tolde: but whether she went, or what be­came of hir after the Knight hir husbāds death, they knewe not; thinking verily, that [...] was dead; for, saide they, if she were aliue, eyther she woulde haue come, or sente ere this: [Page] for a greate liuing shoulde belong to hir, if she were aliue. Which being bolted out by them a far off, without any sus­pition, he made hast to the Court, being very glad that he had such a matter wherof to certifie the King. And as soone as he came to the Court, watching his time when he might most conueniently talke with the King he went vnto him, as he and the rest of his fellows might do most boldely: and then with diuers enormities and wicked practises, he re­uealed the whole storie, howe this pore Lady was missused by hir wicked son in lawe, and to what pouerty hée brought hir. And then presently the kyng sent for this poore Lady, whō the King vsed curteously after she had tolde him al hir matter, and appointed hir to be kepte secretly in the court, and gaue hir meate, drinke, and lodging, and bade hir in a­nye wise, that she shoulde tell no bodye wherefore she was there, nor declare hir case to any, nor yet to vtter what she was. And also the King sent for y ^t said Gentlemā by a Pur­seuant, and for al the Iustices of Peace that dwelled neare him, and also for the Iudge y ^t was appointed for that soile.

I am sure the saide Gentleman did not maruell a little, what should be the cause that the King did so hasti­ly send for him: and also the Iustices of Peace and y ^e Iudge coulde not tel the cause why the King sent for them.

No, they knewe no more thereof, than the newe borne babe doth know of his mothers labour. When euery one of these were come to the court: & when y ^e king was cer­tified therof, he sent not for thē all at once, but for one of thē after an other And first the King sent for y ^e said Gentlemā that had so vsed his mother in law to come before him whō the king asked, what was his name, & what was the place where he dwelled. Thē he told both his name & also where he dwelled. And thē the king asked him whether his father died before his mother or not: & he told y ^e king, that his mo­ther died before his father: did your father marry again, said y ^e king, after the death of your mother, Yea, & if it like your Grace, said he. What mind of woman was she? said y ^e king: [Page] a maide or a widowe, a Gentlewoman or a base borne? for­sooth, saide the Gentleman, she was, as I iudge of no highe degrée, for she was but my fathers seruaunt, and as for hir kinred wée knewe not: it séemed by hir attyre at hir firste comming, that hir parents were but pore. Howe chaun­ced it that youre father (said the King) being a Knight, and a man of so greate a liuing and good worship, would marry his seruant, or one of so base a calling? Truely, saide the Gentleman, my mother on hir death bed, for the great loue & affectiō she bare to hir, desired my father to grant hirone request before she died: who, thinking she woulde desire no such thing, graunted hir that he woulde do whatsoeuer she desired, if it lay in his power to performe: and then, when he had graunted hir, she required him to marry hir maide after hir death: and so he did performe the promise he made to my mother. Then saide the King, your father was ve­ry good to hir, for in one houre he made hir of a pore seruāt, a worshipfull Lady, and of a pore maide, a rich Mistresse. He did so, saide the Gentleman. Then saide the King: Is she dead or aliue? I thinke she be dead, saide the Gentle­man. Doe you not knowe perfectly, saide the King? no, I knowe not perfectly, but that I surmize, for if shée were aliue, she woulde come or sende to receiue hir Rentes, for hir liuing shoulde be great if she were aliue: for my father loued hir so wel, that he made hir a Ioynter of more than halfe his liuing: besides that, he left hir worth in goodes a­boue two or thrée thousande pounds, but she neuer had nor enioyde any of it: for soone after my fathers death, she went away, but howe, I knowe not, and I neuer hearde of hir since. I like you well, saide the King, that you tell me the truth: it séemeth, that she had better lucke during your fa­thers life than she had after his death. How long was she married to your father? saide the King: forsooth, saide hée, aboue twentie yeares. Did your mother leaue anye moe children than you? yea, saide he, she lefte two that were but yong. And was she a good mother to you, said the King, and [Page] vsed you and them well? Yea very well, said he: our own mother coulde not haue loued nor vsed vs better. It is very strange, saide the King, that no body could tel neither of hir death, nor yet howe she shoulde be conueyed awaye: truely, saide the Gentlemanne, I made as greate search and enquirie for hir as I coulde possibly, but I coulde neuer learne what became of hir. The most wisest men haue sur­mised, that some did, by some wile, steale and conuey hir a­way against hir wil, for hir great wealth and liuing, and for that she woulde not consent, haue killed hir, fearing leaste she shoulde bewraye them, if they shoulde haue let hir go a­way from them. It may be so, saide the King, it is verye likely. Wel, saide the King, this is the cause I haue sent for you by my Purseuaunt: The King spea­keth politikly. it was credibly told, (belike by some that beare you no good will, and perhappes doe it ra­ther of malice than of anye good matter) that you haue kyl­led hir, or caused hir to be killed: but if you be sure you haue not (as I beléeue you would not, for that you tolde me how well she loued and vsed you) assure youre selfe to bée with­out al daunger. But leaste I be suspected, said the King, of parcialitie, you must be content to be as a prisoner a while, vntill I sée that it cannot be proued, whiche I will quickly trie, doubt you not: therefore content your selfe, sayde the King, for they that haue thus slandred you shall dearly pay for it, if they cannot be able to proue it. Then said the Gen­tleman to the King: God saue your lyfe, O worthy Prince, for I neuer killed hir, nor consēted euer thereto: therfore I am certaine and sure, that it can neuer be proued: wherfore I nowe reioice, thoughe I was sorie before I knewe the matter. And then the King sent him away to prison.

This was a very good policie of the King, to pretende hir death against him, which he knew was false, whereby to haue a good occasion to send him to prison, and thereby to kéepe him safe, and to make him the lesse suspect the trueth, or that she was aliue, whereby he might be the mer [...]ier.

You saye true: And after that the King exami­ned the Iudge & Iustices of Peace seuerally by thēselues: and they al affirmed, that the Knight, the said Gentlemās father, didde marry his maide at his wiues requeste on hir death bed: but what became of hir after the death of hir husbande, they knew not. And he commaunded after, that the said Gentleman, with the Iudge and Iustices of peace should be brought before him: and when they were al come he saide to the saide Gentleman: Howe say you? saide the King, it is credibly told me, that you haue killed your mo­ther in lawe: whiche is very like, for thoughe she vsed you and your brethren as hir owne déere and louing children: yet I vnderstande, that you did not onelye in your fathers time maruellously misuse hir, but also, your owne louing father, whome you were moste bounde to loue and obey a­boue all other. Nowe séeing you didde hate and despise hir whome your father entirely loued in your fathers life, by displeasing of whome, you mighte haue bene displaced out of al your inheritaunce and liuing: then it is like, after his death when hée coulde not disinherite you howe cru­elly soeuer you handled hir, that either you haue killed hir your selfe, or appointed some other to doe it. Then said the Gentleman, if it can be proued (O worthy King) that ey­ther I killed hir my selfe, or got any other to kil hir, or was euer consenting to hir death, either doe know of hir death: then let me suffer the moste vilest death that can be inuen­ted. And I truste your Maiestie, saide he, woulde not haue me molested or troubled for hir death, vnlesse it be proued that either I killed hir, or procured hir death, or consented to it. No, saide the King, as God is a righteous king in Heauen, so I hope I haue bene and will be a iuste Prince in my kingdome on earth. Well, saide the King, if I can not bring a witnesse, that she was killed, yet I beléeue I can shortely haue one to testifie, that she escaped with great feare: so that, if shée bée aliue, it is manifest then that you are not culpable of hir death. I am sure, saide the Gentle­man, [Page] there is none that can witnesse any such thing against me in any suche thing: neither, that I euer gaue hir anye suche occasion. I wil not say it was you, saide the King, the witnesses, if there be any, can tell their owne tale. But I pray you, saide the King, tell me one thing, and lye not. Then saide the Gentleman, if your Maiestie aske me that I am able to resolue, I will: then saye vnto mée, saide the Kyng, whether had you rather your mother in lawe were aliue or dead? whereat he paused a little: Youre pausing, saide the King, portendeth something, for if you were frée from killing hir, then hir death could not hurt you: and if you haue not otherwayes misused hir, then hir life can not harme you Your Grace, said the Gentlemā, doth construe it one way, but I meant an other way: for if she were dead, then by surmises and other presumptions, I mighte incur great trouble and danger, wherof hir life would rid me: and if she were aliue, I shoulde lose a greate parte of my lyuing, whyche I nowe enioy and possesse. Then said the King, herein you haue shewed rather a readye witte, than a good excuse: for you that are loathe to haue hir a­liue that so muche loued and tendred you, leaste shée shoulde enioye halfe youre liuing: it is to bée thoughte, that you coulde bée contente to procure hir death, whom you vtter lye hated, to haue all hir liuing. And for as muche as the question séemeth so doubtfull to you, that you knowe not whether it were better for you to haue hir dead or aliue: it is like, that you are guiltie of hir death, or abused hir in hir life. Wel, saide the King, bring me hither y ^e pore woman, we wil sée what she can say. And thē y ^e pore Lady his mother in law, in hir pore attire, was broght be­fore the King. And then the King asked the Gentleman if he knewe hir: and he saide, he knewe hir not. Doe you knowe thys Gentleman? sayde the Kyng to hir: If it lyke your Grace, saide shée, I knowe him wel. Yea, sayde the King, it liketh mée well that you knowe him: But perhappes it lyketh hym euyll that you knowe [Page] him: tel me truth, saide the King, when and where did you sée him laste? Forsooth said she in a Groue, not farre from his house where he dwelleth. What certaine token, saide the King, can you shewe me, that then you sawe him? then saide she, I haue suche a sure token that he cannot forgett [...] it. Tell it I pray you, saide the King. Then the pore La­dy saide: it was my chaunce on a certaine euening to be in the same Groue gathering a fewe stickes, and sodainely I sawe this Gentleman (thoughe he sawe not me, for I did couer my selfe close in a bramble bushe) and his mother in lawe was there with him, whom he then stripped of al hir apparel, and put on hir backe pore beggarly attyre (I mar­uel where he had it) (where gote the Diuel the Friar, said the King?) and did then threaten to kill hir with his Dag­ger in his hande, if she woulde not then faithfully promise and sweare to him, that she shoulde not onely gette hir selfe from thence in all haste, and neuer come againe with­in an hundreth miles of the same place: but also, that shée shoulde neuer vtter the same to anye Iudge, neyther euer claime any part of hir liuing there. And when she beganne moste humbly to knéele and speake to him, he saide, if shée prated to him, he woulde thruste his Dagger in hir. Then the pore Ladye was commaunded to departe for a while. How like you this tale? said the King, she might wel be a good mother to you, but you shewed your self herein a step­childe to hir. Did not I saye before, that his silence dydde shewe then, that eyther he was guiltie of hir death, or abu­sed hir in hir life? Then saide the King, what saist thou to this thou wicked wretche? why doest thou not answere for thy selfe? Then he saide, I beséeche your Grace not to cre­dite this pore woman. As thoughe, saide the King none is to be beléeued but the riche: and none to be discredited but the pore. I doe not saye that she is to be discredited for hir pouertie, said the Gentleman, but I meane that hir pouer­tie may make hir to be allured with giftes and money, to beare false witnesse. It is well knowne, saide the king, that [Page] that good Lady thy mother in lawe, had neither kith nor kin nighe thée, to sue, trauel, or to search for hir, and to boulte out the truth. And moreouer, canst thou make me beleue, that this pore woman durste witnesse a falshode to me, or to accuse thée, (being of so greate liuing and wealth) of su [...] a crime, if it were not true? I doe not saye to your Grace, that she is hired to beare witnesse against me, but y ^t it is ve­ry likely, that throughe giftes and rewardes she is allured thereto. Wherefore I moste humbly beséeche your Maie­stie, not to beleue, that I haue missused my good mother in lawe in this sorte when she was aliue. Doest thou thinke, saide the King, that she is dead? I beleue she is dead, said he to the King: therefore let not me be troubled, for that I neuer abused hir as this woman reporseth.

Surely, this was verie wittily handled of the King.

As he beganne very wittily, so he ended the same very wisely: for he appointed, that after the saide pore Lady shoulde putte on hir trimme apparell, and shewe hir selfe in suche sorte as she was in hir prosperitie. And then the King saide: thoughe you refuse this pore woman for a witnesse, I trust you wil not refuse a rich Gentlewoman for a witnesse. Bring in that Gentlewoman, said the King, before me. And when this pore Lady came in trimme attyre like a Gentle­woman or a Lady, before the King: the King asked hir, if shée knewe that Gentlemanne. Yea, my moste worthie Soueraigne, I knowe hym verye wel, saide she. Doe you knowe this Gentlewoman? said the King to the Gentlemā. Then said the Gentleman verie softely and sorrowfully, I knowe hir. Doe you knowe hir? said the King to the Iudge and to the other Iustices of Peace: yea, saide they, we know hir verye wel, for she hathe made vs verye good cheare in hir husbandes time: it was verie well bestowed on you, saide the King. This is a very strange thing, saide he, the riche and wealthie can not knowe the poore, but suche as are rich or equall to themselues. And if anye come from wealth to [Page] pouerty thē they quite forget thē: but if they come frō pouer­tie to welth, then quickly they know thē. This Gentlewomā is the same woman she was herebefore, & yet hir trim appa­rel hath made hir another woman: she had the self same face, armes, and legges, that she hath now, and yet they knew hir not: & for that she hath other aparel, that she had not before, now they knowe hir. Well Gentleman, I may wel punish you for missusing hir when she was aliue: but here afore all this company, I acquit you for hir death. Though these two women are but one witnesse in déede, yet you your selfe haue allowed them for two witnesses. For the first that was here you knew not, and this gentlewoman that is here you know: which argueth plainely that you take them to be two seue­ral persons. And thus they may be as two witnesses against you: but this good missused Gentlewoman your mother in Law, is the most sufficiēt witnesse y ^t can be brought against you in this case. But I praye you Gentlewoman, saide the King, why did you suffer this iniurie at his hands, all thys while? forsooth, saide she, it may please your highnesse to vn­derstande, that partly I was lothe to vndoe him, though he spoyled me of all I hadde: and partly I was so scrupulous to kéepe my othe, thoughe I was enforced to make it, that if it had not bene reuealed by some other meanes than by mine owne procuremente, he shoulde neuer haue bene bewrayed for me. I know thou sayst true, saide y ^e King, for if it had not bin boulted out, more by my meanes, than it was procured by thine, thou shouldst haue liued poorely for want of thine owne, and he shoulde haue liued Lordlye, with that, that is thine. Then the Gentleman knéeled downe and beganne to excuse himselfe: wherewith the King was verye angrie, and sayde, pratle no more to me, said the King, thou wouldst haue killed this Gentlewomanne with thy dagger, for spea­king in hir right: and shall I suffer thée to lyue, if thou pre­sume before me to excuse thy selfe in wickednesse and wrōg? wilt thou vrge me to séeke for further witnesse? bring me saide he, hither before me all this Gentlemans seruauntes, [Page] that came vp with him: And as soone as they came before the King, he asked which of them did dwell with him at the death of his Father, or at the time when the Ladye his mo­ther in Law was so sodainely gone. And one of them which then dwelled with him, saide: it maye please your maiestie to vnderstande, that at that time I was his seruaunte and wayted on him: then sayde the king, loke thou tel me truth in that I shal aske thée, didst thou knowe nothing of hir de­parture? neyther didst thou sée any thing whereby to suspect thy maister thereof? Truely saide his seruante, I sawe my maister and hir walke togither out of the house, on whome I would then haue wayted, but he woulde not suffer me, & within an houre after, I met my maister, with some of hyr clothes in his armes, which I was sure she did weare, when she and he went forth togither. And I asked hym what hée had there, and where he had left my Lady his mother: and he sayde to me agayne, what wouldst thou withall knaue? she is none of my mother. And euery one did mutter of hyr thus soddaine absence: at the laste I sayde vnto him, sir it woulde be muche for your worshippe, to make searche for my Ladye: let hyr kindred and friendes searche for hyr, sayde he, for I wyll neyther goe nor sende, out of the dores to looke for hir. And this is verye true that I tell your grace, but more I know not. Thys is ynough, saide the King, and more than I looked for, but not more than God woulde: beholde throughe gods prouidence, thyne owne man hath tolde such a tale that it hath tryed all y ^t rest to be true. With that the Gentlemanne was ashamed and helde downe hys head. Nowe, sayde the King, he holdeth downe hys heade, whyche in déede is more méete for hym, than to hold it vp: he hath vsed thys good Lady so wic­kedly, & so trecherously, y ^t he cānot wel loke vp to take God for his father, me for his Prince, this Lady for hys mother, nor any good man here to be his friend. Ah varlet, thou hast lost y ^t name of a Gētlemā by villanie, which thy auncestors [Page] gote by well doing: doste thou not knowe, that in this my Kingdome of Mauqsun are such good lawes and orders, and suche worthie Iudges and Officers, that wicked practises cannot be vnreuealed, fraude and falshode not defended or bolstred, and that the offenders are not long vnpunished? I tell thée, that God dothe so abhorre the wronging of the widowe, the defrauding of the fatherlesse, the oppressing of the pore, and the misusing of the miserable, that he will re­ueale it, thoughe the craftie worldlings, with all their po­licie and power doe hide it, as by this pore missused Lady doeth manifestly appeare: for she of hir selfe thought neuer to vtter it, but God of his goodnesse wrought means to pub­lishe it. Well, saide the King, I will make thée a spectacle to al other: and nowe I wil procéede in iudgement against thée. Marke the iudgement of the King. And firste, bycause thou haste made diuers lies to me, and specially, one that is notorious, to make vs the better to credite thée, whiche is, that thou madest diligent searche af­ter this Gentlewoman, (whiche thy manne hathe manife­sted to the contrarie:) therefore, for it, and the reste, thou shalte not speake any word to any body for the space of nine moneths: and thou shalte weare on thy sléeue al that while, an H. and an L. for a Hurtfull Lyar. And bicause thou didst strippe this good Ladie thy mother oute of hir clothes, and putte beggarly apparell vppon hir backe, therefore I wyll sée thée here before my face, stripped oute of thy attyre, and beggarly ragges, in steade thereof, to be putte vpon thée.

Did the King himselfe sée the same done?

Yea, what else? for as he had prepared before beg­garly attyre for his mother, so the King commaunded suche like attyre to be purposely prepared for him: which beggar­ly attyre, when the King sawe on his backe, he saide: now thou arte dressed as thou shouldest be: for as thou hast done vnto hir, so I doe vnto thée. And bycause, saide the King, thou diddest spoyle hir of all hir landes, liuing, money, goodes, iewels and plate, and turned hir to spinne for hir li­uing: [Page] so here I wil take from thée all thy landes, goodes, ie­wels, money and plate, whiche she shall possesse and enioy all hir life, and all hir owne goodes and iewels, to bestowe where she wil after hir death, and so thou shalte be turned abroad, to get thy liuing which way thou canst. And wher­as thou didst charge hir vpon hir othe, that she shoulde not dwell nighe thée by an hundreth myles: so I charge and commaunde thée vppon thine allegiaunce, that thou shalt dwell from hir an hundreth myles at the leaste. And for that thou diddest vnlady hir, by taking away hir apparell, liuing, and goodes: nowe I vngentleman thée, by taking a­way thy apparell, thy lands, and thy goodes from thée. But thoughe my iudgement is, that thou shalte haue none of thy goodes or landes during thy life: yet my will is, that thy children, if thou haste or shalte haue any, shall enioy al the same, after this Ladies death. And all this my iudge­ment shal stande and be performed, and not be reuoked. And nowe, said the King to the Iudge and Iustices, I haue to say to you: for as muche as this Lady was so sodainely gone away, the bruite whereof you coulde not choose but heare: and bicause you caused not enquiry or search for hir, thoughe none complained thereof to you, whiche was your partes to haue done, (for good Iudges and Iustices ought to enquire and searche priuily for misdemeanors,) there­fore euery one of you, as well Iudges as Iustices, I dis­charge of your Offices and authoritie, commaunding eue­ry one of you besides, to finde two of your porest neighbors children at schoole for the space of two yeares, allowing them all that while, sufficient meate, drincke, cloth, and all other necessaries, as well for theyr learning, as for their finding, commaunding euery one of you to doe, and performe this my iudgement, as you will auoyde our indignation. For whyche worthy iudgemente, the said pore Ladye moste humbly thanked the King: and al o­ther the Kings Subiectes that hearde of it, reioiced that they were subiectes to suche a politike, diligent, righteous, [Page] wise and vertuous a Prince. And then the King departed: the Lady to hir owne, liuing and goodes was restored, and to all hyr landes admitted: hir wicked sonne in lawe of all goodes and landes dispossessed, and into a straunge country banished: the Iudge and Iustices oute of their authoritie discharged, and pore mens children nourished and well edu­cated.

If two or thrée that missuse their mothers in law in our Countrey, were but thus handled, or as their déedes doe deserue, so manye widowes shoulde not be wronged as are. This order that your King vseth herein, is a verie ex­cellent way for him to knowe many abuses, and to redresse manye mischiefes. And thoughe it be costely and chargeable to the King, yet it is verie necessarie and commodious, to his louing and good subiectes.

Nay, the kings Espialls doe also certifie him, of vprighte Iudges, godlye Iustices, diligent Officers, and of the wise, godly and wel learned, that are of a good reporte, & are generally well commended, whiche are rather contente with pore liuings, than with greate dignities, with meane estate, than with highe promotion, with decent apparell, than with costely garments, and with necessarie foode, than with sumptuous fare.

But what are such the better thoughe the kyng knowe of them?

Forsooth, as the other that practise & commit wic­kednesse, are punished, & according to the lawe executed: so these are, by the king to promotion and greate authoritie preferred: and the other that are godly, wise, and well lear­ned are to one office or other promoted, thoughe they be ne­uer so pore: for the kyng thinkes, that they that are content with a pore and base liuing, and séeke not to be exalted, wil if they be in any aucthoritie, doe Iustice and equitie, and wil abhorre to take giftes and rewardes.

Your king thinketh truly: yet it is often times séene, that many before they be in office and authoritie, doe [Page] professe that with their tongue, that when they are in of­fice, they neuer performe in their déedes. But sir, as you told me before, that the suters in the lawe with you haue not on­ly quicke dispatch of their matters, but also haue thē ended & determined with small costs and charges: euē so I thinke, that suche as haue an occasion to sue vnto any noble man or other, for any particular thing to themselues, are quicklye dispatched either off or on.

That is most certaine, for this order we haue: as soone as any thing is giuen or granted, either by any Noble man, Lorde, or other, the same is registred immediatelye, to whome it is giuen or graunted (yea, and our King himselfe doth vse that order) whereby none is putte in hope of that whiche before is promised, or giuen to an other: So that if it be promised or giuen before, the suter hathe his answeare verie spéedily, that it is giuen, or that he can not haue it. If the thing he sueth for be not giuen or promised: then our order is, that they to whome he doeth sue, shall eyther gyue him an aunsweare within a daye after, or else shall appoint him an other day.

It maye be, that the Suter dwelleth two or thrée hundreth miles from the same place, wanting mo­ney perhappes to tarrie long for an aunswere, or else can not so well trauaile so farre agayne for his aun­sweare.

Nay, thrée daies is the longest that anye Suter with vs shall be constrained to tarry for an aunswere: for if hée haue not an aunsweare within thrée dayes, he shall haue the thing he sueth for.

There maye a greate inconuenience aryse thereof, for thereby manye tymes the Suter shoulde be driuen to departe wythoute his demaunde: or else hée, to whome the Sute is made, shoulde bée vrged to giue or graunte that to one that is vnworthie of it: for that in suche a shorte time it could not be learned of what nature, [Page] qualitie, or condition the suter is.

If that be all the matter that you can alleage, the aunsweare néede not be long delayed: for euery one with vs muste of force bring a good Certificate or Testimonial, that he is very méete and worthy of the thing he sueth for, or else he cannot speede of the thing he sueth for: For good Reporte with vs doth winne that, that Money nor Giftes can neuer attaine.

That is very wel: but I tell you truely, with vs it proueth ofte times contrarie: for that which good Report or Desertes can not get in a yeare, Money and Giftes will get in a day. Wel, it is no greate matter for a man to staye thrée dayes to spéede well. And to saye trueth, it is a greate deale better for one to tarrye thrée dayes, and then to haue a flatte aunsweare not to truste vnto it, than to be putte in hope with faire promises a tweluemoneth, and then to goe home without it.

I dare saye that there are none so euill vsed with you.

I feare there haue béene a hundred within lesse than a hundred yeares, being fedde with faire wordes, that haue waited long, spent muche money, and giuen rewards, and yet haue gone home withoute the thing they sued for: and an other (perhappes not so worthye) in two or thrée dayes, with small wayting, and little expences hath obtai­ned it.

Surely, that is againste all reason: it is a pitiful thing, to make one spende his time, and consume his mo­ney, for that he shal not haue. Long delaying of suters, hathe oftentimes made them lose and spende more, than the thing hathe béene worth they sued for or got, which is a greate e­normitie, and against al reason. Now, if that be against rea­son, then it is much more againste both reason & equitie, to make one throgh vaine hope, to wait long, to lose their time, to spende all they are able to make, for that they shall not haue, which is the next way to driue them to beg of other, of [Page] whome other before did beg.

You say euen truly, yet many with vs haue bene so serued: I pray God it may so cease, and that none hereafter bée so serued. But I beséech you tel mée, how do pore Suters with you, that haue no mony to spende during the time of their sute or complaint?

Though there be fewe such with vs, yet they that be such can lacke no reliefe nor lodging all that while. For many godly Gentlemen, Rich men, and Merchantes of the Citie, do require the Porters of the same, to sende vnto them suche poore strangers and néedie Suters, as they espie when they first en­ter in at the Gates of the City: which godly Gentlemen, Mer­chants, and Rich men, will not only ioyfully receiue them, but also will giue them meate, drinke, and lodging, during all the time they sue, or are Suters. So that no poore Suter can so soone enter into any Towne or Citie with vs: but straightway they are thus entertained either of one or other. Are they not so with you?

With vs, quoth you? we would be loath to be taken with such a fault: if they come without mony, they are liker to lie on bare boords than on a featherbed. And they shal not light­ly surffet on their Supper.

I will tell you a true tale of a worthie Iudge with vs, and howe he did vse a poore woman that had great wrong, and had no mony to relieue hir at all.

Tell it I beséeche you, for I will giue an attentiue eare vnto it.

There was a Iudge with vs that feared God, A rare Iudge. and loued equitie so much, that diuers times he would walk in the streates early and late, in vnknowne apparel, only to spie pore strangers and Suters, and to enquire of them the cause of their trauell and sute: who on a certaine night mette in the streate a poore aged Woman, who had a paper or wryting in hir hande. To whome the Iudge said: Goodwoman where dwel you, and what is the cause of your comming hither? Forsooth sayd shée, I dwel in the Country, and am enforced to come hither to com­plaine [Page] of a wicked Rich man that hath myssused my daughter and I haue neyther mony to pay for foode nor lodging. Doest thou knowe his name, and where he dwelleth? said the Iudge: Yea that I do, saide shée, and then shée tolde him his name, and where he dwelled. Where is your daughter? sayd he: she is in the Towne, sayd the old woman. And then he did giue hir mo­nie in hir purse to pay for hir supper and lodging, & willed hir to enquire the next day for the chiefe Iudges house of the Citie, and to come thither with hir daughter, for, said he, I wil speak my selfe to the Iudge for you: and so shée was gladde, gi­uing him greate thankes for the monie whiche hée reléeued hir withall. And when the sayde Iudge came home, hée sente for his Porter into his Chamber, to whome hée gaue strait charge, that when such a poore Woman with hir Daughter came vnto his Gate, hée should delay no time, but immediatly bring them both vnto him.

I thinke the sayde poore Woman did not forgette, to come with hir Daughter the next day to the Iudges house, as she was appointed.

No I warrant you. And when she and hir daughter came thither, the Porter broughte them before the Iudge pre­sently: which poore woman when he sawe, he knewe hir well ynough, though shée knewe him neuer a whitte. Tel me, sayd the Iudge, what occasion had you to come to mée? whome she answered, saying: It may please your Lordship to vnderstand, that yesternight as I was walking in the streate, a good man mette with mée, who did not only giue me mony to relieue me and my daughter, but also told me that he would speake to you concerning my cause and sute. Then he sayd: In déed one spake to mée, and sayde, that such a Rich man hath missused thy dau­ghter, and to complaine on him therfore was the onely cause of your comming hither at this time. In déede, sayde shée, that is true, therefore if it will please you to heare all the whole mat­ter, and howe he hath abused my daughter, I will declare it as briefly as I can. Tell it, saide the Iudge, and I will heare thée willingly, for I am appointed to sit & heare euerye bodies [Page] complaint that commeth hither. Therefore be bolde to declar [...] thy whole cause, and I will both heare thée willingly, and take thy parte in right most spéedily. Then shée sayde: The Lorde saue your life O worthie Iudge: but sayde the Iudge, doth not thy complainte tende altogither to the myssusing of thy daugh­ter? Yes my Lorde, sayde shée. Then it were more requisite, (saide the Iudge,) that thy daughter shoulde tell hir owne tale, for none knoweth it better than shée. That is true, sayde the pore Woman. And then the Iudge commaunded hir daughter to speake, and to reueale all the truthe of the matter vnto him. And then hir daughter sayde to the Iudge as followeth: My Lorde, this noughtie Riche and vnmerciful man, which is my moothers neighboure, walked of late through a Groue of his, in whiche (through my mothers commaundement) I was gathe­ring a fewe olde and rotten sticks, to make my moother and me a fire at home (for it was verye colde weather) who when hée sawe mée, hée was in suche a rage and furie with mée, that my humble knéeling on my knées coulde not once moue him to for­giue me, nor haue compassion on me: So that he tooke and tyed mée faste vnto a trée in the same Woodde, and suffered mée to bée there faste, and woulde not vnbynde mée, but lefte me there crying, wayling, and lamenting most pittifully: and there did I so remaine all the whole night, A tyrannous parte. faste bound vnto the foresayd trée, where I thinke I shoulde haue dyed through colde and for wante of foode, if (throughe the goodnesse of almightie GOD,) one had not come the nexte morning and loosed mée, that hearde my pitifull lamentation, mourning, and crying. At which time when I was vnbounde, I was neither able to goe nor stande: and then the man that vnloosed mée, séeing mée in that pittyfull case (being bothe a godlie and a mercyfull manne) hée didde leade me home to my mothers house, A godly man. by little and little as wel as he could. And for that hée perceyued my moother to be a ve­ry poore Woman, he did then giue my moother mony to relieue hir self and mée withall. Doest thou knowe the man, saide the Iudge, that thus did loose thée and leade thée home vnto thy mo­ther? Yea that I doe, sayde shée, and also where he doth dwell. [Page] Then the Iudge saide vnto the poore woman, I will fence for the man that thus hath myssused thy daughter, and also for him that did vnbinde thy daughter and brought hir home, whereby they shal apere before me at my next sitting in the open Court: and in the meane space both you shall haue meate, drinke, and lodging in my house. And then the pore woman and hir daugh­ter humbly gaue him thankes.

This was a godly Iudge in déede, he respected and regarded, that there was and is a generall Iudge in Heauen, that will bée mercifull to all godlie and righteous Iudges on Earth, and that wil so iudge the cruel vnrighteous affectionate and corrupte Iudges, that they shall goe to the euerlasting pri­son of Hell, where they shall remaine in endelesse tormentes, without any fauour or mercie (vnlesse they repent in time:) but what followed I pray you? did the Iudge sende for them?

You néede not doubte that: whiche men when they came before the Iudge, neither of them knewe wherefore hée sente for them, at whiche time the sayde poore woman and hir daughter were priuily placed not farre off. And then the Iudge sayde to the Riche man, that had myssused the poore womans daughter: I pray you tell mée where you were such a day and about such an houre of the same day. Whereat the Riche man being something amased, saide nothing: You do well, sayde the Iudge, to take good aduisement, for you know it is better (espe­cially in this place) to speake the truth leysurely, than to tel a lie rashly, why doe you not speake, sayde the Iudge? Forsooth my Lorde, sayde the Rich man, I can not well tell, I haue almost forgotten. Then sayde the Iudge, if I had asked you where you were a tweluemoneth or halfe a yeare since, then you might ra­ther forgette than remember it, but séeing this is so lately, not past thrée or foure dayes since, it séemeth that eyther your me­morie is verie euill, or else that the matter which you then did goe about was not very good, nor in any respecte commendable. But I am of this opinion, that if you had bin robbed of youre goods, or your body wel beaten, a quarter or half a yeare since, you woulde haue remembred the day and the verye time of the [Page] day of the doing therof: therfore plucke vp your wittes, and re­member your selfe well, but take héede you lye not: my Lorde, said he, I wil not lye as nie as I can. And after that he had ad­uised himselfe a little, he said, my Lord I do not remember but that I was at home all that day: then the Iudge saide, I muste haue a flat aunswere, whether it be so or no: therfore if you saye it certainely I am aunswered. And when the Riche man per­ceiued, that there was no remedie, but that he must certify the Iudge, where he was at that time, he said, (thinking that none could or would witnesse the contrary) my Lord, I am sure y ^t I was at home al that day, and neither road nor went frō home. Wel, said the Iudge I am aunswered, and then he was carri­ed out of the Courte vntil the Iudge called for him. Then the Iudge commaunded one to go for the rich mans seruants, whi­che were but two in all, and to bring them before him, whyche was quickly done. And thē the Iudge asked one of them whe­ther his maister was at home all that day or not, for it is tolde me that thy maister did beate a poore man at his doore, suche a day, and suche an houre, for asking almes: forsooth my Lorde, saide his seruant, he was at home all that day, vntil a little be­fore night, but at that time he was not at home, therefore they that say so, do belie my maister, how knowest thou that said the Iudge? I knowe it saide he, by a very good token, for within a quarter of an houre after my maister was gone, a friend of my maisters came purposely to speake with him: whom I aunswe­red y ^t my master was newly gone forth, requiring him then to stay a little, for that I thought he woulde not long be absente, who tarried there a long houre at the least, and then he went a­way without speaking with him: howe long was thy maister forth, saide the Iudge: Truly my Lord, saide he, two houres at the leaste, then saide the Iudge, is here all thou canst say? yea my Lord sayde he: what sayst thou, saide the Iudge to his other seruaunt, which was a woman, was thy maister at home such a day all the whole day or not? truely saide she, I am certayne he was not at home al the whole day. How knowst thou y ^t? said the Iudge, forsooth my Lorde said she, he came into the Kitchin [Page] that euening something late, and brought some drie stickes in his hande, & bad me rost meate therwith: to whō I said, here is good dry wood, where got you it? marry, said he, I had it frō one y ^t gathered it in my groue, but she had bin as good, to haue got­ten wood a mile off: and here is all that I can tell your Lorde­ship of my maisters being from home that daye, therefore it is a false lye my Lorde, that my maister did beate any at his dore, for asking of almes, especially at that time, for I am most sure y ^t he was thē frō home. And as it appeareth by his own saying, he was thē, or about y ^t time, in a groue of wood of his own. wel, said the Iudge, you haue done like true and good seruants, your witnessing of y ^t truth wil make your maister anoyde much tro­ble: but wil you take your othes, saide the Iudge, that thys is true? yea saide they with all our heartes. And then the Iudge deposed them, and caused theyr examinations to bée writ­ten.

Then the Iudge verye politickely vsed the matter, to make them willing, and to drawe them on to tell the truth.

He did so. And then the two seruants and witnesses were commaunded aside, and not to come vntil they were sent for. At which time the Iudge commaunded the Rich man to be brought before him, and then caused him to stand among other people that were there, and not in the open face of the Courte: and then he sent for the Wench, that the Rich man had so wic­kedly handled: to whom, he said: maide, where were you such a day, and at such an houre? forsooth my Lorde, said she, I was in such a grone, gathering of stickes for to make a fire for my mo­ther and me. Art thou sure thou wast there thē? said the Iudge: yea my Lord, saide she, I haue both a token to knowe it, and [...] cause to remember it, yea and that suche a one, as I shall neuer forget as long as I liue: belike (saide the Iudge) the token was either very good or very ill. Wel, séeing thou art sure, that then thou wast there, I am satisfied, thinking verily y ^t thou telst me no lye. Then the Iudge called for the man, y ^t loosed the Wench frō the trée & led hir home to hir mother, saying: I pray you my [Page] friend where were you suche a morning, about such an houre? my Lord, said he, about y ^t time as me as I can gesse, I was go­ing towards such a place, and as I was going I heard one gro­ning & making pittiful mone, whervnto I gaue such eare, y ^t by the sound, at the last I came to the place where a yong mayde ws hard and fast tyed to a trée, which doleful sight did so much gréeue me, y ^t it was not lōg before I vnbound hir, who was so frozen with the cold, y ^t then she could neither go nor stand, and then as charitie did wil me, I helped hir home to hir poore mo­thers house, as wel as I could: and so, through Gods good pro­uidence, I was made an instrumēt to saue the Girles life. Thē said the Iudge, this is a very good token y ^t then you were there, & a certain signe, that she was not farre thence? & you did not so good a déede in loosing hir from the trée, but he did as wicked a déede that tyed hir to the trée.

The rich man that bound hir to the Trée, hadde an euill quakyng heart of hys owne all this while, when he heard the good man tell this tale: but what sayde the Iudge then fur­ther?

Mary he asked y ^e mā y ^t vnboūd hir, whether he knew y ^e same maide, if he saw hir or not? yes my lord said he, y ^t I do, for this same is she y ^t stādeth here, & I beléeue, said he, she hath not forgottē me: no sir, said the maide, I haue a good cause to remē ­ber you, you are the man throughe Gods goodnesse that saued my life. Then saide the Iudge to the maide, I perceiue thou knowest him y ^t vnloosed thée frō the trée: but I thinke y ^t knowst not him y ^t bound thée to y ^e trée: yes sir, said y ^e maide, that I do, if I might sée him, I know him wel ynough. Thē said the Iudge to hir, loke among all that throng, & if thou can espy him bring him to me: & then the W [...] ̄ch looked among the people, & espyed hym, on whō she toke hold, saying: my Lord I haue him here, this is he: whō the Officers brought then before y ^e Iudge: how say you sirra, said y ^e Iudge, were you at home all y ^e daye as you tolde me, or were you at youre Groue? this yong Mayden, me thinks tels a perfect token that you were from home: but he saide nothing: why dost thou not speake? said the Iudge, if thou [Page] art not able to speake for thy selfe, it wil be harde to finde [...]ye other that can do it? your silence showeth you are not altogither faultlesse, this maide hath complayned to me that suche a daye & about such an houre, one did binde hir fast (belike for falling) to a trée, in such a groue (which groue I thinke you wil not de­nie to be yours) and for the better tryall that the Girle doth say true, here is an honest mā hath witnessed that such a morning it was his chaunce to heare hir, and find hir, wherby he vnboūd hir, and so carried hir home to hir mother, for she was not able to go of hir selfe: and to say truth, both by hir own sayings, and by this honest mans reporte, she was therby more like to dye than to liue. And for that she flatlye affirmeth that you are the man that bound hir to the trée, I can not choose but beléeue it: & the rather for that the groue is yours: Then said the rich man, my Lord, thoughe the groue be mine, that proueth not, that I bounde hir to the trée, neither hir binding doeth argue that I did it: that is true, saide the Iudge, but hir knowing and accu­sing of you, is rather a proofe than a p [...]sumption. Oh my Lord, saide he, giue not too much credite to the Gyrle, for she of pur­pose no doubte, [...]ameth this matter againste me: then saide the Iudge, it may be that she may faine of you, but I dare boldlye say, she fableth not of hir selfe, for here is one that witnesseth, y ^t she was abused. My Lord, saide the Riche man, pleaseth it you to vnderstande, that some noughtie disposed felow méeting hir there, perhappes woulde haue misused hir, who not able to get hir good wil, and fearing least she should discrie him, thoughte neither to kill hir, wherby he was sure to be without daunger of the lawe, neither to set hir at libertie, wherby she should ex­claime or complain of him presently. And for that (as it doth ap­peare) it was something late, he might be the more bold to doe it, bycause afterwards if she did escape, she should not very wel know him, y [...]a thoughe she met him in the face: to whom [...] the Iudge aunswered, though the darke might make hir to forget him, yet the light hath made hir to remember you: but I praye you said the Iudge, let me go thus far with you, what dec [...]sion hath the Wench, to turne y ^e greate [...] of hir f [...]e, into a smal [Page] faulte of hir selfe? Do you think that if one had tied hir to a trée bicause shée would not suffer him to abuse hir, woulde shée ex­cuse him, and saye shée was bounde to the trée for gathering of stickes? Who wil think or once beléeue, that a stranger or one that had nothing to doe therein, would therefore so handle hir? So that reason doth fully resolue mée, that none woulde so ex­tremely vse hir, but onely the owner of the Wood. And nowe, for that you are the owner of the Wood, it is impossible that a­ny other should so cruelly handle hir for gathering of wood, but onely you that are the owner thereof. O my Lorde, sayde the Rich man, she doth this, I thinke, of spight: Canst thou make mée beléeue, saide the Iudge, that she caused hir selfe to bée tyed to a trée all a colde frostie night, which was ynough to kill hir, onely to spight thée withall, or to bring thee to trouble? Shée might haue found means to haue troubled thée with more ease to hir selfe. But for as much as she complaineth that she was tyed to a trée, and this man confesseth that he founde hir tyed to a trée, and that she plainely affirmeth that you tyed hir to a trée, and that you are owner of the Groue where she was so bounde to a trée: therfore it can not choose but that you are the same man that tied hir to the trée. And for the better manifesting of the matter, you are taken in a trippe with your owne tale, for you affirmed to me, and that aduisedly, that all that day you kepte your owne house and wente not abrode, which I am able to say is a manifest lie, for which you are like to pay full dearely: for thy man hath confessed and sworne to the contrary. O my Lord saide he, my man mystaketh the day: then saide the Iudge, if he purposely haue tolde a lie, then purposely he shall be punished for telling a lie: but there is no reason why herein he should tel a lie, for in this case he could gain nothing to tel a lie, but auoid great danger by speaking of truth. But you perhaps (seing your selfe in a snare) by telling a lie might shunne a mischief, and by vttering a truth might be driuen to some danger. And now bi­cause thou doest stande so stiffely in such a shamefull cause, I haue another of thine owne seruants suche a witnesse againste thée, that thou wast not onely from home at that time, but also [Page] that then thou broughtest drye stickes from thy saide Groue, to whome thou confessedst, that thou tookest the same then from a wench, saying: she had béene better to haue gotten stickes, or wood a myle off: wherein thou toldest trueth, for hir gathering of stickes there, had like to haue coste hir hir life. And when the wicked rich man hearde the Iudge speake these words, as one confounded, he fel on his knées, and desired the Iudge to be good vnto him.

And was the Iudge fauourable to him after he sub­mitted himselfe?

You shall heare howe fauourable he was vnto him. Ah, saide the Iudge, thou crouchest when thou arte constrai­ned, and yéeldest againste thy wyl, what Diuell didde be witch thée? what spirite did inc [...]se thée? or what féende did enforce thée, so cruelly to vse this pore gyrle, for succouring hir selfe, by not hurting thée? thou couldest haue béene contente to haue giuen two or three loades of wood, to some one, that perhaps was warme ynoughe, or that stoode not in néede of it: and coul­dest not thou finde in thy heart, to suffer this pore wench to ga­ther a fewe stickes to warme hir selfe withall, wherof she stode in great néede? who makes thy wood grew but onely God? and who giueth thée thy wealth but onely he? And canst not thou spare, out of thy great abundaunce of wood (whiche thou canst neuer spende all thy life) a handfull of stickes (that other waies would rotte and do no good) to saue the pore member of Christ from staruing? If thou were a pore traueller by the way, and very drye, not able to buy thée anye drinke, and shouldest take an Apple that were fallen from the trée, whereon there were two or thrée thousande Apples, to quenche thy thyrste withall, wouldst thou be content that the owner of y ^e Appels should tye thée to the same trée therefore all night, yea thoughe it were in Sommer, when the nightes are moste shorte, and also little colde or none? I am righte sure thou wouldest not, nay thou wouldest thinke (as thou mightest wel ynoughe) that hée that should so vse thée, were a cruel cut-throat. Then what a wicked wretch, & an vnmerciful miser art thou, that hast tyed this pore [Page] girle to a trée, leuing hir there so boūd a whole Winters night, yea, and in most extreme colde, for gathering a few sticks amōg suche a great number of thy trées, to warme hir selfe withall? how canst thou looke for mercy at Gods hande, seing this poore girle hath foūd such vnmercifulnesse at thy hand? Wel, bicause thou & such as thou can not finde in your hearts here to giue the poore wood to warme them here withal: I am sure vnlesse they repent & be more merciful, the Diuell wil not be so niggardely to you, but wil giue you fire ynough for nothing in hel to warm you withal. Doest thou not remember that Christ spake a little short Sentence, wherin consisteth the Law and the Prophets? which is, Whatsoeuer ye would that other should do to you do euē the same to them. And now bicause thou takest thy self to be a christiā, I hope thou hast done to this pore girle as thou wouldest she should do to thée. Therfore accordingly I wil pro­céed in iudgement with thée. But first, A righteous iudgement. bicause thou hast made a lie to me, I wil that thou speak not a word these thrée moneths vnles in such case as law doth allow: & thou shalt weare on thy sléeue al that while an H & an L And for binding this wench to a trée in thy groue al a cold night: my iudgemēt is, to haue thée bound to the same trée al this next night, from which none shall loose thée: & wheras the wench was put in gret hazard of life, for that thou neither any other for thée did vnbinde hir: but by the good prouidence of God she was vnbounde by one that came to hir through hir pittifull mone: euen so thou shalt not be vnboūd vntil some that shall come that way through thy crying or cal­ling, shall loose or vnbinde thée.

This iudgement was hardly performed I think, for one or other hearing it, would so reueale it, that some for frend­ship or mony, would vnbinde him in the night.

Nay that could not be, for the Iudge gaue that iudge­ment very secretly, for none knewe of it but such as he might well truste. And also his iudgement was, that if he were vn­bounde anye parte of that night, or contrary to the same iudge­mente, that hée shoulde bée bounde vnto the same trée two other nightes more for the same, which iudgement was priuily tolde [Page] him when he was first bound to the trée: and moreouer hée was well ynoughe watched, that he coulde not be vnbounde all that while.

That is another manner of matter: that was such a way for feare of farther punishmente, that if any woulde haue loosed him before the time, he himselfe would haue desired them not to doe it. They say it is an euil bargaine that no body win­neth at: then this was no good bargaine, for neyther the Girle nor he gained by it.

Yea but the Maide got more by it than he did, for it was iudged besides, that the Wench should during hir life, en­ioy and possesse the fourth parte of all his Landes, to helpe hir and hir poore moother withall, bicause through the greate colde that she gotte that night, hir legges and other limmes were so benummed, that they woulde not serue hir to trauell nor to get hir liuing as they did before.

But was this iudgement perfourmed in all points?

Yea, there was no part of it omitted or left vndone.

And if a Riche man with vs shoulde myssuse a poore Wench in such order, I feare he should not be punished in such order. Well, though pore mens wrongs with vs are not so cō ­monly hearde, so quickly dispatcht, and so reasonably redressed as they are with you, yet I will tell you of one (for all the rest) whose cause was presently hearde, and spéedily dispatched, by a famous Iudge with vs.

Was he an inferior Iudge, or one of the higher Iud­ges?

He was the chiefest Iudge of all oure Realme, for it was the King himself: which famous fact was not done so long since, but that some nowe aliue do knowe it for truthe. And al­though no Countrie in all the Worlde can compare with your Countrie of Mauqsun, for godlye Iudges, righteous Iudge­ment, and spéedie dispatch of matters, yet I will be so bolde as to tell you this in the commendation of our Countrie.

Begin I beséech you, for I wil most wyllingly heare you.

As we haue had moe Lawyers, than wel learned, & more gréedy than godly: so, A pleasant tale of a Countrey man that came to the King. not very long since, we had a cer­taine Lawyer, conuersant among the rest, whose lerning whe­ther it was equall wyth the others I knowe not, but his gaines was not so great as theirs I am sure, wherby he was driuen to change his place, and to seeke a new seate: & he vnderstanding that in the West parts of our Countrey, were many matters & few Lawyers, and many contentions, & few counsellers, wēt thyther not richly apparelled, nor yet monyed. Who wythin a while for his counsel (I wil not say for his craft) was not only in great credite, but also of good countenaunce: so that as be [...]re he had scant mony to help himselfe, nowe he had more than y­nough to vndoe his neyghbours withal: for there was one nei­bor of his had a Farme or Holding, whose grounde lay so nye him, that all his deuice was, which way to come by it, but hys first drift was, to buy his neighbours interest therin if it might be, but his neighbour by no meanes would sel it: which practise when he saw would not performe his purpose, he wente to the Abbot, to whom the same did belong, and desired to take y ^e same Farme in reuersion of him and the Couent: but then he coulde not allure the Abbot thereto by anye meanes. Yet after he be­ing very importunate, (not dashed w ^t one denyall as one more shamelesse than shamfaste) the Abbot saide, (being verie lothe to let him haue it) though I would graunt it you, yet that is no­thing, vnlesse the Couente agrée thereto, whiche I beléeue you shal hardly or neuer obtaine. Who seeing that he could not get the Abbots good wil, he practised with the whole Couent: who through his faire words, large proffers, and goodly presēts, got them to graunt him their good wils. So that at length throughe his diligence, and the Couents procurementes, the Abbot was also thereto allured. And when he had gotten a graunt thereof, & also the same confirmed vnder the Abbot and Couents Seale, he was not a litle ioyful, thinking by one fraude or other with­in a while to hoyse the true meaning Tenant out of his Farm. And after (watching to take him in a trip, as the Spyder doeth to catch the silly Flye in hir web) he commeth to his neighbour [Page] and sayde, sirra thou hast forfeited thy Lease, for thou haste cut downe two trées, therfore I charge thée quietly to auoyde from thy House & Ground, and my Lord Abbot and his Couent, doe cōmand thée to do the same, & if thou wilt not goe out by fayre means, thou art like to be thrust out by force whych. When y ^e plain & honest Farmer heard, he said, though I haue cut down two trées, I haue not forfeited my Lease, for I haue done it on­lye to serue my necessarie turne withall, wherein my Lease doth warrante me: and therefore I will neyther goe out of my Farme, for my Lorde Abbot, his Couente, nor for you, doe what you can. Wherewith this Lawyer was not a little moued, saying, I wil handle thée well ynoughe, sée­ing thou art so lustie, thou shalt find in striuing with me y ^t thou hast made a sorie match. And so the Lawyer departed frō him, in a fume, who made a full accoumpte (by his power and poli­cie) within a while to make the poore vnlearned Farmer, bothe Houselesse, and Groundlesse. And bicause he wold not long de­lay y ^e matter, he got out processes, wherby the Farmer was en­forced priuilye to kéepe his house: which Farmer being weary therof, & should therby be more wearie at length, perceiuing al­so though his matter wer neuer so true, that the Lawyer with his power & purse, at length would make it false, determined with himselfe, not to tarrie the tryal of his matter in that Coū ­trey, but to go to him, that was the chiefe of al the Lawyers in the Lande, where he shoulde haue his matter quickely ended, truly iudged, and with smal cost prosecuted.

I pray you before whom was that?

Forsooth, euen before the King himselfe, who I am sure was the chiefe and heade of all the Lawyers of the land.

Whosoeuer gaue hym that counsell, dyd not counsel him muche amisse, but did he go to the King indeede?

Yea that he did: and I beléeue you wil say that he had more law of the King for twelue pence, than he shold haue had at home for a Royal.

It may be so, and it is a very like thing: but how got [Page] he out of his house for feare of arresting?

Wel ynough, for he called his wife vp early in the morning before day, willing hir to shut the dore after him, for sayd he, I must go to aske counsel of one, that I hope wil helpe me out of my trouble: & therfore loke not for me again in haste, for I cannot tel how long it wil be ere I come again, but I wil make all the hast home y ^t I can And so he toke his leaue of hys wife, & went straight to y ^e Court, where thē y ^e King did lye: & he being a homely mā of y ^e country, hauing a Bil on his shoulder, y ^e Porters asked him who he was, & what he would haue: & he said to thē, y ^t he wold speak w ^t the King: to whō one of y ^e porters said, may no worse mā serue you to speake withal but y ^e King? no, said he, my errād is to him, & with him wil I speak er I go: thē I perceiue, said y ^e Porter, there is no remedie but you wyll néeds speak with y ^e King: yea y ^t I wil, said he: to whō he sayd a­gain, what if y ^e king wil not speak with you? tut, said the plaine Farmer, I know he wil speak w ^t me, if he knew I were here: therfore I pray thée Porter said the Farmer, tel the King that I would speak with him. And if thou wilte do so much for me, whensoeuer thou cōmest into our Country, I wil help thée to y ^e spéech of such a Gentlemā, if thou stand in néed, & thē thou maist say, I haue quit one good turn for another. At whose words the Porter began to smyle, saying: doe you thinke Father that the King is as easie to be spoken withall, as one of your Gentlemē is? yea, why not, saide the Farmer, he is but a man, as another man is: that is true saide thée Porter, yet thoughe he be but as another man is, he is able to doe more than any other can doe: I know that wel ynough, saide the Farmer, or else I wold not haue come so far to speake with him as I haue done. Wel fa­ther said y ^e Porter. I wold I could help you to y ^e spéech of him, but I cānot, for I am appointed to be one of his highnesse Por­ters, so y ^t I must waite here vpō my charge: but I am content you shal goe into the Court, where I warrant you, right quick­ly you shall méete with one or other, that wyll helpe you to the spéeche of hys Grace. I thanke you good Porter, said the Far­mer. And then hée wente further into the Courte, who within [Page] a while after saw a Gentleman gorg [...]ously apparelled, to whō straighte waye he went, saying: may I be so bolde to speake a word with you maister king? but the Gentleman aunsweared him by and by, father you mistake me, my name is not King: I thinke so, saide the Farmer, but are you not our comely king and chiefe of all our Land? no father said the Gentleman, that is to high a dignitie for me, I am but one of his poore seruants: say you so, saide the Farmer, you are a goodly man, he goes not trimmer than you I trow: yes, saide the Gentleman, that hée doth, and thou neuer sawest a goodlyer man in al thy life than he is. Would you speake with the king? sayde the Gentleman: yea that I would, sayd he, and if you wil bid him come & speak with me I wil giue you a good groate for your labour: y ^e Gen­tleman smyling therat, said: I had rather bring you to the king for nothing, than to bring the King to you for a groate. But fa­ther, saide the Gentleman, séeing you are desirous to speake with t [...]e King, if you wil folow me, I wil bring you to him: I thanke you, saide the plaine Farmer. And then he followed the Gentleman with the Bil on his back.

I thinke he came sooner to the spéeche of the King by hys playnnesse, than some that were a greate deale more curious.

Yea that I am sure he did, and then when the Gē ­tleman came nie to the Tennis Courte, where the King was a playing, he bad the Farmer stay a little vntil he came backe again from the King. And then the saide Gentleman wente to the King and tolde him, that there was a verye homely Far­mer of the Countrey was come to speake with his Grace, for whom if his Grace would send, and that he would speake with him, he would haue very great delight in him: to whom y ^e king saide, bring him hither to me, and I wil stay my play, to talke with him. And then the Gentleman wēt to the plain Farmer, and willed him to goe with him, and he shoulde speake wyth the King: that I wil sayd the Farmer, with a good will, and I thanke you too. And so the Gentlemanne broughte him into the Tennis Court, where y ^e King was: which is our comely King [Page] saide the Farmer? that same is he, saide the Gentleman, and pointed him to the King, who then was in his shirte: you mocke me, saide the Farmer, that man goeth in hys shirte: and the King, I am sure, néede not goe in his shirt for lacke of clothes. He doth it for his pleasure, sayde the Gentleman, he hath better clothes if it please him to weare them: but if thou wilte speake with hym, lo, there he is, go to him. And then this plaine and homely Farmer appro­ched nigh vnto the King, with his Bil on his shoulder, and saide: are you our comely King? to whome the King aun­swered: howe comely I am, I know not, but that I am the King of this realme I knowe: arte thou come to speake with me? If you be our King, said he, I am come to speake with your Maship, therefore I pray you mocke me not, for I will not conclare my cause to none but to the King hys owne selfe. Whose talke, when the King heard, he smiled, and saide: be bolde to say vnto me what thou wilte, for I am the King indéede: none but my selfe, I thinke, will bée so bolde to take it vppon him. You may be the King, said the Farmer, but this same manne that brought me to you, is more like a King than you. But nowe sir, séeing you are our Maister King indéed, I am come to aske your coun­sell. For I tell you truely, the Lawyers are so deare, espe­cially in our Countrey, that they wil haue a Noble almost for nothing, and yet a man shall be no wiser when he is gone from them, than when he came to them. And bicause you are a King, I beléeue you are as well skild in the lawe as the beste of them al: And bycause I muste néedes paye money for Counsell, I hadde rather your Maship had my money than an other. Wherfore I pray you, good Maister King, let me knowe your vise. Wel Father, said the King, I am but a sorie Lawyer. Yea sir, saide the Farmer, you doe wel, to mispraise your selfe: but I like you neuer the worse for that: for with vs it is séene, that the greatest crac­kers are the slendrest Clearkes: but I will saye this vnto you, (take it as you list) if you be not wel learned, the fault [Page] is in your self, for my maister your father was as able to pay for your schooling, as the best mā in all our parish. Thinkest thou so sayd the King? I thinke thou doest but gesse: nay it passeth gessing, sayed the Farmer or else sauing your reue­rence, some haue told me more thā truth: then said the King tel me thy mind, & I wil not only giue thée the best councell I can, but also do for thée what I am able. Then said y ^e Far­mer, God saue your life good M. King, I sée well now that one were better go to y ^e head than to the féele, there are some with vs, that haue not so much liuing as you by report, that are so full of curmosity, that they make such poore plaine mē as I abasht to go and speake to them, therfore I cunne you thanke M. King, that you will so gently heare a poore man your selfe. I pray thée good fellow said y ^e King, tel me wher­in thou wouldest haue my councell, then sayd the Farmer, mary sir thus it is, there is a Lawyer with vs, that was not worth a gray grote when he came first into our countrie, & he had such a thréede bare gowne that a lowse (I may say to you) could scant take hold on it, but now he is so full of mo­ney, (through his craftie counselling) that he is able to buy poore mēs Farmes ouer their heads, & to make their leases end before they be halfe done. Hath he done so by thée sayd the King? yea and please your maship, sayed the Farmer bicause I would not sel him the lease of my Farme, he hath taken it in subuersion, & I tell you it lieth so néere his nose, that he troubleth me with woortes, that I dare not tarie at home, for feare of resting, so that he maketh him selfe sure to heaue me out of it either by hooke or crooke. Then said the King, though he hath got it in reuersion, which thou callest subuersion, yet thou must enioy thy yeres: you haue concla­red it very truly said the Farmer, for euen so I should if he were an honest man: then said y ^e King, doth he say thy lease is not good, or that thou hast forfeted thy lease? In déede he sayth that I haue forfeated my lease, bicause I haue caused two trées to be cut downe, which I did only for mine owne necessaties, for my barne and my cart. Therfore here is my lease, & if you can read it, tell me whether I haue forfeted it [Page] or no, by cutting downe of y ^e same two trées, nay it is a good fiste I tell you for one of my yongest boyes wrote it.

The King had good sport to heare the homely Far­mer talke, I dare say, but did the King stand al that while in his shirte, and did he also reade his lease?

Yea that he did, & when the King had redde & per­vsed his lease, then y ^e Farmer said how likes your maship my leasse? to whom the king answered, feare not, thy lease is ve­ry good: if thou had cut downe half a score trées for thy neces­saries about thy Farme, thy lease were not forfeted therby, say you so, said y ^e Farmer, bicause you haue clarified y ^e mea­ning of my lease so wel, you shal be my lawier an other time, & though it be but smal, yet take this as a fée for your paine, & therewith he tooke xij. pence out of his purse, & would néedes giue it to y ^e King, & when the King saw that so importunatly he threaped it on him, he tooke it & put it betwéene his shirt & his bare skin, which when the King felt, he said merily, I be­shrewe thy knaues hart, thy monie is cold. Then said y ^e Far­mer, seing your maship saith that my lease is good, vpon your worde I dare venture to go to the law, but the Courtes are costly, and the sutes there so long, that I am loth to haue my matter tried in any of them, yet tel me said the King, in what Court wouldst thou haue thy cause to be discust. I like thē also well said the Farmer, that I care not if I come in none of thē all. Therfore I pray you good master King, help that my matter may be in suche a Courte, where I may [...]oone be di­spatcht & spend litle monie. Bicause thou art a good plaine fel­low, said the King, thou shalt haue thy matter tried in such a Court, as thou desirest: but canst thou be cōtent said the King that I shal be Iudge of thy cause? content said the Farmer? yea with al my hart: if thou wilt follow my counsell, said the King, thy matter shall cost thée no monie, and it shalbe ended within this houre or two at the furthest: marrie y ^t is euen it that I looke for, but haue you any Lawiers in this spéedie and easie Courte that you speake of: no sayde the King, if there were▪ but thrée or foure suche Lawiers (sayde the [Page] Farmer, as the Lawyer that trobleth me, my matter wold not be ended thys two or thrée yeares. Wel, said the King, for this matter, at this time I will be thy Iudge. I will, that as soone as thou commest home, that the Lawyer that thus doth trouble thée, shall not onely suffer thée quietly to enioye thy Lease, during the terme thereof: but also shall pay thée towards thy costs and charges, an hundred poūds. I like this wel, saide the Farmer: but howe shall I come by the money? I wil sende a Letter or a Bill to him, saide the King, that he shal performe this my commaundement: and also paye thée the same money. Tut, said the Farmer, he cares for no Billes, I haue séene Gentlemen send Bils vnto him, and he hathe regarded them no more, than I re­garde a Rushe. Then saide the King, he wil regarde my letter more, I warrant thée. Then said the Farmer, what if he doe not regarde your Maships letter, howe shall I do then? Thou néedest not doubte, saide the King, but he wyl performe my Letter as soone as he séeth it: but to make al thinges the more sure, thou shalte haue an other writing with thée, sealed with our Signet, whiche when hée séeth, he wil not be long a performing it. If this that you saye, wil make him to doe it, I will giue your Maships horsse a nights grasse, when you come into oure Countrie, and hée shal fare no worse than my wiues kine do fare. God a mer­ [...]ie for that, saide the king. Nay, said the Farmer, you shall haue a mease of Creame for your own mouth besides that. I perceiue Father, thou meanest to bestowe some coste on me. Yea, saide the Farmer, you are not euery man. No, saide the King, for if I were euerye man, then thou musie giue euery mannes horse grasse for a night, whiche all the grasse thou haste wil scantly performe. And thus the King and he passed in pleasant talke, whiles the writings were a making. And then the King sette his owne hande to the Letter and Writing: and so they were sealed as is before saide.

The plaine Farmer had good lucke to happen on [Page] such a Iudge, he might haue gone to al the Iudges of your Countrie, and not haue spedde so wel.

That is moste true. And then the King sayde, Father, lo, take this my Letter, and deliuer it to the Law­yer that doth molest or trouble thée: and I charge thée, giue him no time for thy hundreth pounds, but receiue it forth­with vpon his sighte of the Letter: and if he refuse to obey my Letter, (as I beléeue he wil not) then deliuer him this Writing, sealed with my Signet, & then I warrant thée, he will forthwith performe all that therein is contained: for if he doe not, I wil make that Countrie too hote for him. Nowe God rewarde you, saide the Farmer, I might haue gone further, and spedde worse. Then the King said, séeing thou haste giuen me the first fées that euer I tooke, and the laste that euer I wil take: nowe I wil giue thée the firste rewarde that euer thou receiuedst of a King, and perhaps the laste that euer thou shalte receiue of a King: whiche, if thou be a good husbande, wil beare thy charges home: and therewith the King gaue him money. Barlady Maister, saide the Farmer, I hadde good lucke to come to you: if I hadde tarryed at home, the Lawyer woulde perhaps haue hadde me in prison ere this: but if he vse not me wel, I per­chaunce may haue him in prison ere it be long. Then saide the King, farewell good Father, and if the Lawyer resiste thée, let me knowe it with spéede: whereby I wil finde such meanes, that he shal neuer trouble thée more. Now God be with you, good Maister King, saide the Farmer. And this I may wel saye, that you are the quickest dispatcher of matters, and the least taker of Fées, of al the Iudges that euer I knewe.

It is no doubt but that the Farmer wente home with a mery hearte.

Coulde you blame him? Would it not make one glad that was euery daye in feare of imprisoning or losing his liuing, to be reléeued and released of his care and sor­rowe? besides the séeing of his enimie so sodainely to bée [Page] vanquished? yes I warrant you. And then the Farmer with his bill on his backe, went merily home, and he comming home late in the night, he knockt at his doore, and immedi­atly his wife did let him in.

But did not the Lawyer maruell where he was become all this while?

Yes forsoth did he, and being very merie for his absence, he declared abrode that he was run away for feare, but that case was suddenly altered, for the next Sundaie af­ter, the Farmer came to the Lawier being in the Churche, and sayd, Sir you haue gone about long to trouble and vexe me, and all to get my liuing from me, but nowe I hope the matter is taken vp betwéene you and me: who hath taken vp the matter sayde the Lawyer? if any haue done it, that is more than I know, saide he: than said the Farmer, he that hath done it, is thought to be a [...]ufficient man to end a grea­ter matter than this. Then saide the Lawyer, who wilbe so bold, to determine any matter of mine without my consent? yes saide the Farmer, he that did it dare do it well inough: though you take your selfe to be a iollie fellow in this coun­trie, & thinke you may bind Beares here, he is taken for as iollie a fellow where he dwelleth, yea & may bind buls there: then said the Lawier, though he rule there yet he can not rule here: then said y ^e Farmer you dare not tell him so: dare I not said the Lawier, yes & rather thā he should take vp any mat­ter of mine, I would go to the law with him: though you are a Lawier, yet you make but a wrōg match to go to the Law with him said the Farmer, and therewith he tooke the Kings letter out of his bosome, and saide, he that hath ordered the matter betwéene vs, hath sent you a letter, reade it, and then you shall sée who hath sent it. Then sayd the Lawier (when he looked on it) I perceyue it commeth from the Kinges Ma­iestie, I will reade it and that willingly, and when he had redde the letter, he sayde, neyghbour you néeded not to haue taken this paynes to make the King an arbitrator betwéene vs, a worse man might haue serued well inough, you should haue found me reasonable inough, without such cost or tra­uell [Page] to the King, if you had come and talkte with me your selfe. Yea marie sayd the Farmer, if I had come vnto you, I should haue found you so reasonable, that you would haue taken nothing for reason but the yéelding of my liuing: you that can be content without all Lawe and reason to trouble me wrongfully, and to take my Farme vnrighteouslie, woulde scante vse me reasonably. You know, sayde be, I am sure, what our Kinge hath written vnto you? yea, said the Lawier very well: then I truste sayde the Farmer you will suffer me to occupie my Farme quietly: yea that I will sayde the Lawier, for I will not disobey the Kinges com­maundement in any pointe: to whome the Farmer sayde, then I truste you will paie me my hundreth pounde forth­with that the King hath appointed by his letter. I will pay you it neighbour sayde the Lawyer, but I praye you giue me some respite for the payment thereof, for I haue not so muche readie monie to gyue you: sette your harte at reste sayde the Farmer, I will haue it by and by, I will giue you no dayes, therefore tell me whether I shall haue it or not. I praye you neighbour sayde the Lawier beare with me, for I haue it not nowe readie for you. Yea but, sayde the Far­mer, if you might haue my Farme at the payment of that monie, I knowe you woulde paye it quickly and that with­in an houre. Nowe seing you haue an hundreth pounde in a readinesse to vndoe me withall, then I am sure you haue a hundreth pounde (though not so willingly) to helpe me, or to performe the Kinges pleasure withall. Therefore make no more a doe, for I will haue it presently, and if you thinke this letter of the Kinges owne hande, is not sufficient, here is an other sealed with the Kinges priuie Signet, whiche when the Lawier perceyued, though he made a fayre shewe outwardly, it grieued him not a little inwardly, and then he caused the money to be fetcht, and so paide the Farmer the hundreth pound that was appointed by the King. And when the Farmer had his money, he saide to the Lawier, maister Lawyer, as you like this, trouble your poore neighbours [Page] agayne. And then the Lawyer went forth of the Churche very sorrowfully: And the Farmer and his neighbors wēt home very ioyfully.

The Farmer happened on a verye good Iudge. Your King was maruellously to be commended therin: he helped the pore Farmer spéedily, he rewarded him liberal­ly, and enriched him with his enimies substaunce politike­ly, and made him enioy his right according to equitie, and feared other from taking their neighbours liuings wrong­fully. If he had not gone to the King, he should surely haue béene wronged at home. Affabilitie in a Prince is a worthy Uertue, whereby much goodnesse doth growe: for if youre King hadde béene proude and disdainefull, and had bin gy­uen to a stately looke, rather than to an affable countenāce, this pore Farmer thē durst neither haue gone to hym, nei­ther he himsfelf wold vouchsafe to speake with him: but be­ing clean of a cōtrary disposition: y ^e pore Farmer was im­boldned to go to the King, & the King was most willing to talke with his pore subiect: both which were such occasions, that the oppressed was reléeued, helped and succoured: and the oppressor was from his mischeuous pretēce restrained.

Indéede Affabilitie in a Prince is a worthy ver­tue, whereby muche mischiefe is auoyded, and great good­nesse doth growe: as by thys laste example, and by dyuers other before dothe manifestly appeare. Sir, séeing you haue so seuere and affable a Prince, then al his Officers dare do none other, but iustly and truely, according to their charge and dutie.

No I warrant you: if a pore man or anye other Suter complaine to the King, as they may very easily, for euery daye (excepte certaine times) at a certaine houre in the afternoone, as I told you before, the King himselfe doth sit openly at the gates of his Courte, onely to heare poore complaints or other Sutes, whereby they shall not néede to procure friends, to helpe them to the speach of the King, neyther shall be driuen to stay long, either for redresse, or [Page] an answere.

It is a very good order especially for the poore, that haue no mony to make frends, nor yet to relieue thē in staying so long about their sutes. But I besech you tel me, what if the King should commit a poore mans Bil, into the hands of some that he appointeth therefore, to bring it vnto him and to putte him in remembraunce therof, and the same that hath the poore mans Byl, doth kepe it from the King, and delay the poore mā with faire wordes, throughe Friendshippe, Brybes, or Re­wardes?

None dare doe so with vs for their liues: for then the next day or soone after, the complaynant may certifie the King thereof, and then I warrant you, he that shoulde so neglect the Kings commaundemente, and kepe the writing from y ^e Kyng, should pay ful dearely for it.

Yea but it is possible, that he that the King putteth in trust with the saide wryting (to auoyde that danger) may com­mit the poore man to prison, that he should not complaine to the King: whereby the poore man may be constrayned, for feare of long punishment, to agrée with his oppressor for little or no­thing, and so be neuer the better, but rather the worse for com­playning to the King.

You doubte more than nedes, there can be no suche thing with vs: marry there was once such a like facte commit­ted with vs, but the offender was so handled [...]or it, that neuer since any did or durst offende in the like.

I praye you tell me in what sort it was?

That I will willinglye, therefore marke it adui­sedlye. On a time when the King was sitting at the gates, A tale worth the marking of a wicked Re­membrancer. to heare suters, and mens complaintes, a poore man came to the King, and gaue hym a Bill or Supplication, and desired hys Grace to looke on it: whiche the King verye gentlye receyued of the poore manne. But for that, the King had then many mat­ters to debate (not hauing sufficiente time, to loke on the poore mans Supplication) he gaue the same Supplication to one of hys Remembrancers, commaunding him to deliuer it vnto [Page] hym that night, or the next day at the furthest. Which y ^e Kings Remembrancer did not, either for that he was his friende, or had giuen him a reward, on whom the poore man complayned in his Bill: or else bycause the poore man gaue him not some re­ward, to remember him to the King. Whiche poore man came diuerse and sundry times to the saide Remembrancer, but he saide, that the King was not yet at leasure to looke on his Sup­plication. To whom the poore man saide, sir I haue little or no money to spende, and moreouer, I muse that it is so long ere the King loke on it, for he commaunded you, to deliuer it vnto him the same night, or the next day at the furthest: what, saide the Kings Remembrancer, muste the King reade it when it pleaseth you? wel, said the poore man, I pray you deliuer me my Supplication againe, and I wil trouble you therewith no fur­ther: for to morrow I wil giue it vnto the Kings Maiestie my selfe. Then the Kings Remembrauncer (being verie angrye) saide, thou shalt not haue it, I am put in trust, and it is my of­fice to deliuer it, therfore thou shalt tarrie the longer. Sir saide the poore man, thoughe it be your office to remēber the King of poore mens sutes and complaintes: yet it is more than your [...] office, to kepe mens Bils and Supplications from the King, that he shall not reade them. Then the Kings remembrancer saide, dost thou tell me my dutie? I will teache thée howe thou shalt controle thy Superiors: and therewyth he sent him to pri­son, commanding him to be closely kept, that none but y ^e keper of the prison should speake with him.

Indéede that was y ^e next way, to kéep the pore man from his right, and the King from the truth: but how didde the poore man then? for he coulde haue no bodie to tell the King of his case.

He did well ynough, for the King being of a good and perfect remembrance, within two or thrée dayes after, sayd vn­to his said Remembrancer: why doe you not deliuer me the poore mans Bil or Supplication, that I gaue you to kepe such a daye? forsooth, said he to the King, I haue lost it: yea saide the King, you are good to be a poore mans Soliciter: why didde you [Page] not tel me thereof before I did aske you? then sayde he, I was afraide to tel your Maiestie of it, meaning to haue the poore mā to make another, before your Grace shoulde haue knowen it. Then said the King, why got you not the poore man to doe so? then he saide to the King, I did neuer sée him since. Then saide the King, the absence of the poore man, and your loosing of his Supplication comming both so iump togither, is not very wel to be liked. Then saide the Kings Remembrancer, it is lyke that he is agréede, with the partie that he complayned of; or else I should haue he arde of him ere this. Then the King saide, Politike words to make the Remembrācer not to suspect. it may be so, & it is verie like, but if the felow come to you bring him to me, y ^t I may know the cause of his cōplainte. And soone after the King changed his apparell, making himselfe like a seruingman, and went out at a priuie Postornegate, and so en­quired in the prisons, what prisoners were there, and so by tal­king with many of them, did vnderstand of this poore man that was kepte in close prison, and therevppon the King being like a seruingman, desired the kéeper of the prison that he mighte speake wyth him: naye, sayde the Iayler, you shall pardon me: what apparell hathe he? sayde the King: and then the kéeper tolde hym: whiche apparell the King remem­bred well, whereby he perceyued it was the same manne he looked for. Then sayde the King, séeing you wyll not lette me speake with him, tell me I praye you, at whose sute or commaundemente doeth he lye here, that I maye be suter to them for him? marrie saide the kéeper, as farre as I knowe, one of the Kings Remembrancers sente him hither: God a mercie, saide the King, and now séeing I cannot speake with him, I pray thée be good vnto him, and I will goe aboute to release him: and the King then departed from the prison. And as soone as the King hadde conueyed himselfe priuilye into the Courte, hée sente for the sayde poore manne, that was then thus kepte so in close prison (vnknowne to the Kings Remembrancer.) And when he came before the Kyng, he tolde the King howe he was committed to prison, by the [Page] Kings Remembrancer, and tolde him the occasion therof: yea, sayde the King, if we shoulde committe poore mens causes to suche Remembrancers, A thing to be marked. and not looke to them our selues, the oppressors shoulde be remembred and the oppressed shoulde be forgotten: and the defrauders shoulde be defended, and the de­frauded vtterlye impouerished. If we shoulde winke at suche wrongs, & suffer such officers, the poore wythin a while would rather loose theyr right than sue for their owne. Then the King bad the poore man kéepe himself close in the next Chamber, vn­til he were called for.

If Kings, Princes, and Rulers should searche thus narrowly, as your King doth, they should finde some y ^t they put in trust in such cases, most deceiteful; whome they take to bée faithful, and troublers and hinderers of poore suters, that are appointed to ayde and helpe them. But did the King remember his Remembrancer?

Yea the King remembred him so, that the Remem­brancer did neuer forgette it as long as he liued. As soone as y ^e King had conueyed the poore man away, he sent for his saide Remembrancer, & saide to him: was the poore manne with you yet, whose Supplication you shoulde haue deliuered me? I ne­uer saw him since, saide the Remembrancer: do you not know, saide the King, him aga [...]nst whom he complayned in his Sup­plication? no truely, saide the Remembrancer. Then sayde the King, it séemeth hereby that you neuer reade the poore mannes Supplication: are not you a fit man to be in this office, and to be a Rememberer for mēs sutes, & a Solliciter in their causes? Then saide the Remembrancer, if it like your Grace, I reade it, but I haue forgot it: it liketh me wel, said the King, that you did reade it, but it misliketh me that you haue forgotte it: you shall from henceforth be called the Kings forgetter, not the Kings Remembrancer. Then said the King, I feare leaste he against whom he came to complaine, hathe hurte him, killed him or caste him in prison. I thinke it is not so, saide the Re­membrauncer, for none I beléeue dare be so bolde to vse anye in such sorte, specially that come to sue to your Maiestie. Then [Page] saide the King, if it shoulde be [...]knowne, as it would hardely be hid, it would be more painful than profitable to them. But if any shoulde presume to doe so, saide the King, what were they worthie to haue? truly, said the Remembrancer, they are wor­thy, in my iudgement, to be whipped. I pray you, said the King, tel me one thing that I shall aske you, but lye not. Do you not knowe where the pore man is, whose Supplication I deliue­red vnto you? No verily, saide he, I maruel why your Grace shoulde aske me the question: Bicause, saide the King, it may be, & is very like, that he did come to you to knowe an answere from me therof: if he had done so, as he did not, said he again to the King, that maketh not that I knowe where he is, or what is become of him. Yet if he came to you, saide the King, he might then tell you, that his aduersarie or oppressor hadde sa­tisfied him or agréed with him: which if you should tel me, I shoulde be then satisfied, and thinke, that the man is safe and gone home. Then the Remembrauncer saide, if I should now tell you any suche thing, then I shoulde be contrary to my for­mer tale: for I tolde your Grace, that I neuer sawe him since, as I haue not indéede. Then I perceiue, saide the King, you knowe not where he is: No indeede doe I not, saide he. Now indéede, Marke the Kings wordes. saide the King, I beléeue you, for he is not in prison, where you thinke, but he is out of prison where you know not. Then the King called for the pore fellowe, and bade him come before him. And when he was come before y ^e King, then y ^e King saide to his Remembrauncer. Doe you knowe this fellowe? at whiche time he saide nothing. If you be so forgetfull, saide the King, you are not méete to be a Remembrancer, especially to a King: this fellowe is more méete to be a Remembrauncer than you, for though you haue forgotten him, he (I thinke) doth remember you. Yea, if it please your Grace, said the fellow, I remēber him indéed, and know him too wel. It doth please me, saide the King, that thou doest remember him: but it doth dis­please me, that thou haste such a cause to remember hym. How say you, said the King to the Remembrancer, can you not call this fellowe yet to your remembrance? well, bycause you are [Page] so obliuious, here I discharge you, and you shall be my Remē ­brauncer no more. Though you remember not, that this fellow required his Supplication of you, yet I trust you haue not for­gotten, that you haue sent him to prison, where he should haue lien stil, if I had not béene a better Remembrancer than you. I muse who gaue you aucthoritie to caste pore Suters in pri­son, that come vnto vs to complaine of their wrongs and in­iuries: thoughe you, for youre pleasure commaunded him into prison, I hope you wil not be angry, that I, for my pleasure haue commanded him out of prison. Then the Remembrancer fel down vpon his knées before the King. To whom the King saide: Worthy words of a King. Ah varlet, what heart hadst thou to imprison this poore man, that before had great wrong, and to séeke his vtter vndo­ing that was almoste vndone? Howe durste thou presume to shop hym vppe in prison to kéepe him from me, whose liber­tie was necessary to complaine vnto me? As long as Kings are serued wyth suche, the wicked shall bée boldened to oppresse the pore, and the poore will be afraide to sue for their owne. If thou haste done thus to a poore man being a Subiecte, what wouldest thou doe, if thou were a Soueraigne? You sayde to this poore man, you woulde teache hym to controll his Supe­riors: nowe I saye to you, that I will teach you to imprison your Inferiors. Haste not thou obserued the wordes of Christ well, whiche we with all our indeuour haue commaunded to be kept? that is, Whatsoeuer yee woulde that men shoulde do to you, euen the same doe you to them? Wouldest thou be content to bée cast into prison, for suing for thy right, as thou haste done to this man for complayning for hys due? the doing of that to him, that thou wouldest not haue him do to thée, she­weth, that thou arte no true Christian, but a Sathanist. How subtilly wentest thou aboute to cause me to credite thée, when thou saidst, that none durste be so bolde to vse hym so, when thou knewest that thy selfe haddest so vsed him? But whereas thou saidst, that none durste be so bolde as to doe it, nowe it appeareth, that thou haste done that that none durst be so bold to do: which argueth, that thou arte the boldest of all other, to [Page] imprison pore men wrongfully. But séeing you haue béene so bolde, as to punish this poore man without a cause: then I trust I may be so bolde, as to punish you with a cause. And firste, for that you sayd, they were worthy to be whipped that should vse him so: according to your owne iudgement, my iudgement is, that you shall be whipped naked. And bicause thou haste lyed thrée seueral times to me: therefore thou shalte not speake anye worde of nine moneths, that is, for euerye lye thrée moneths, A wise iudge­ment of the King of Mauq­sun. & shalte all that while weare on thy sléeue an H. and an L. for a Hurtefull Lyar. And for that this pore man hath bene in close prison seauen dayes at thy commaundement: nowe thou shalt be kepte likewise in close prison, seauen yeares, (that is, for e­uery daye a yeare) at my commaundement. And afterwardes, during thy life, thou shalte weare on thy backe & bosome, these words: This was the Kings Remembrauncer, that imprisoned a poore man wrongfully, that complained of his wrong to the King. And further I iudge & decrée, that this pore man shal quietly enioye halfe of al thy whole liuing during his life, for his wrongful imprisonment. And also I charge & commaunde thée, vpon paine of death, that thou shalt not come at any time within seuen miles of our Courte. And then the King rose vp & departed, & al his iudgements were executed & performed. And euer after, y ^e King had euery suters name writtē, in a litle note Booke that he kepte for his own remembrance: that if y ^e Remē ­embrancers did not bring him mens Billes or Supplications, he might call for them, and remember them himselfe.

This worthy and famous fact of the King, made not only al other the Kings Remembrauncers after take héede, to remember to deliuer pore mens Billes and Supplications to the King, but also feared them to commit any of them to prison.

Yea surely, this the Kings seuere iudgement & hand­ling of the wicked Remembrancer, wrought suche effecte, that neuer since any durst delaye pore mens causes and sutes, ney­ther durst trouble them, for iustly complayning of any.

What order haue you for suche riche men as cruel­ly arrest and imprison their pore decayed debters, and are not [Page] able to pay them that they owe them.

We néede haue no lawe nor order for suche, for there are none with vs that vse their pore debters so. Haue you a­ny suche cruell and vncharitable men with you?

Yea that we haue, and that no small number: and if you wil not beléeue me, if you were in our Countrie, you could not go at any time into any of our prisons (that are for indebted persons) but that you should finde such pore decayed prisoners there.

What vncharitable men are their Creditors, that wil suffer them to lye there, being not able to pay them? by be­ing abroad, they might in time be able to pay them, either part or al: but by lying in prison, they bring them to pouertie, their wiues to penurie, and their children to miserie. Suche cruell hearted caitiffes belike meane not to haue Christe merciful vn­to them at the laste daye, but make an accompte to be pinned vppe or imprisoned in the dungeon of Hel for euer. For surely, they that will not forgiue their pore brethren their smal debts, whiche they maye be able to paye: Christe will not forgyue them their greate and wonderfull debtes, that they are neuer able to pay.

There are some so cruell and so vengeable wyth vs, that they had rather without any thing lette their pore deb­tors die in prison, than to haue halfe their due, and to dely­uer them out of prison. It was my chance to be in a prison one daye, and I hearde a pore decayed prisoner (that once was ve­ry wealthie) saye with wéeping teares, that he offered his cre­ditors all that he had in the worlde, wheresoeuer they coulde finde it or haue it, to release him out of prison: desiring to haue no more lefte him but the very shirt on his backe, Most cruel Creditors. to couer his body withal when he shoulde be turned out of prison: but they woulde not take this offer, but kepte hym in prison stil.

Those meant not to be the children of God, but were fully determined to be the darlings of the Diuel. If that pore man had bin with vs, he shold haue bin deliuered whether they woulde or not. It is maruel, that you haue no order for suche [Page] cruell Cut throates, especiallye séeing the worde of God is so plentifully preached among you. It is a thing very néedefull to be loked on.

Yes, our worthy and merciful Prince hath appoin­ted Commissioners for taking order in the like, whiche if they execute diligently, it wil bridle the cruel, & pleasure the poore. But I desire you to tell me the lawe or order that you haue in this case.

I wil not let to do that. A notable or­der for priso­ners that are not able to pay their debts in Mauqsun. The nexte Courte after that any is arrested for debt, the partie that is arrested shal be brou­ghte before the Iudge of that Courte, who, if he confesse y ^e debt, and affirme that he is not able to pay it, bringing good proofe & Certificate thereof, and the Iudge being credibly and truelye certified, that his creditor is wealthie, and well able to liue wythoute it: then the Iudge shal require and intreate the cre­ditor to release his debtor, vntil he shal be able wel to pay him: which if the creditor refuse to do at y ^e Iudges request, then our law is, that the Iudge shal not onely haue power to release the prisoner, but also quite to discharge him of all the saide debte, wherefore the creditor did sue him.

A worthy lawe: For what Christian and charita­ble man can, or will looke to haue his debtes of any before they are able to pay him? then what godly riche man can once craue his debtes of them that are decayed and fallen into pouertie, whiche haue not to reléeue themselues withall? therfore he that is wealthy or wel able to liue, and wil not release his pore deb­tor out of prison, vntil he haue wherewithall to discharge hys debt, is well worthy to be constrained to release hys debtor, & to lose all the same debte. But what if the partie that doeth ar­reast his debtor, be also fallen in decay by misfortune?

That being knowne to the Iudge, then the Iudge may require him to release him out of prison. But if hée deny the Iudges request, the Iudge cānot release y ^e prisoner, neither yet acquit him of his debt. Yet if he wil not release his debtor, he shal soone be ridde out of prison.

Whiche way I pray you?

Our Gentlemen, rich men and Merchant men with vs, are so godly and charitable, that a poore man can not lye lōg in prison, but they among them will paye his debtes. There was one with vs did owe vnto an other fiue hundred poundes: and he, to whome he did owe al that mony, did lose all his goods by mischaunce: A rare relea­sing of a priso­ner in Mauqsun whiche fiue hundred pounds was all that the creditor had to liue on, besides he didde owe parte of the same, whereby he was constrained (thoughe very loath) to arrest his debtor, thereby to sée if his saide debtor coulde make any frien­des for the payment thereof. And within one daye after that the partie was arrested, it was noysed abroade, that immedi­ately, certaine charitable riche menne payde the fiue hundreth poundes he oughte, to him that imprisoned him: and also they gaue him one hundred pounds more to helpe him withall. And so within two dayes after he was arrested, all his debts were paide, he set at libertie, and had a hundreth pounds home with him besides. Doe they vse the pore prisoners thus with you?

Nay softe there, they haue other néedelesse businesse that requireth lesse haste. If any doe so with vs (especially so hastily and liberally) it is more than I knowe, and I thinke, more than the prisoners féele. It may be practised when I am dead and rotten, but I feare it wil not be vsed while I am a­liue. Yet I am persuaded, that with vs there is more spente wickedly in a moneth, than wil release all suche pore debtors that are arrested in a yeare. Therefore, howe bewitched are they, that had rather doe euill, a moneth to bring them to Hel: than to do good a whole yere to bring thē to Heauen? If a poore prisoner should owe so much with vs, he were more like to rot in prison, than in such sort to be released out of prison. But now sir, I pray you tell me: is there any with you that make them­selues Bankerupt before they néede?

Bankerupt, what meane you by that? we haue no suche with vs.

I meane such, as get mony and dyuers mens goods into their hands vpon credite, and occupy outwardly so honest­ly, that none would thinke they would deale deceitfully. Who [Page] when they haue gotē as they thinke sufficient into their hands, and perhappes haue foure or fiue hundred poundes more than will pay their debtes, will kéepe their houses priuily, and shut their doores closely, and so will make themselues as thoughe they were not able to pay their debts: whereby they wil driue their creditors (perhappes some of them to their vndoing) to a­grée with them bothe vppon dayes, and for a greate deale lesse than they owe them, whych when they haue done, will flaunt it abroade, and enriche themselues with other mens losses: and perhappes thereby will make themselues worthe a thousande pounds or two, & make their creditors worth little or nothing.

Nay, I am sure there are none such with vs, and I thinke, there are none suche among them that professe Christe.

I woulde there were not, but I feare there are too many suche.

If such a one were with vs, A good lawe in Mauqsun for suche as make themselues Bā ­kerupts with­out neede. his kéeping of the house woulde not serue him, for I tolde you before, if any be not able to pay his debts, if he declare and proue the same to the Iudge, the Iudge will require his creditors to beare with him vntill he be able to pay them: and then, if the Iudge can not intreate them so to do, the Iudge hathe power to acquitte them of theyr debtes, excepte in suche cases as is before mentioned: where­fore they néede not kéepe them from their creditors in their houses, nor otherwise absent themselues: but if one in suche case is able to pay his debts, & faine himselfe vnable, and make himselfe Bankerupt without néede, and be proued (which our Iudges woulde soone finde out) the Iudges shall compell him presently to pay euery manne his due, and if he haue sufficient left to liue on (as the Iudge shall thinke) besides his debts, then al his debts shal be equally giuen among the pore decayed men of the towne where he dwelleth: and if euer after he stande in néede, or woulde borrowe any money, no man shall lend hym any, for if they do, he shall neuer pay it to them againe; but it shall be paide to the Kings vse at the dayes of payment.

I woulde they that make themselues Bankerupts with vs before they néede, & to hurt their honest creditors, were [Page] handled in this sorte: then honest men would be more willing to lende, and the craftie woulde not be so desirous to borrowe. You tolde me at the first of an vnthankeful sonne that woulde not knowe his own father, that the King worthily handled ac­cording to his deserts: Nowe I pray you tel me, how do mens sons commonly vse their decayed Parents with you?

If Parents be decayed with vs, theyr children are so religious to God, and so louing to their Parents, that with all their power they wil help and ayde them: and their children wil striue among themselues who shal help them first. And for conformation thereof I wil tel you one rare example.

I beseech you doe so, for I muche delighte to heare them, they are so strange.

There was an auncient man with vs that was ve­ry wealthie, An excellent example of a louing sonne to his father. whose whole substance was in his house: for that he had a riche Shop very ful of wares, who hadde little owing him, and he ought as little himselfe. This man hadde but one Sonne, whome he broughte vppe very wel in learning, wher­by he came to be very wealthie, and might dispend at the leaste an hundreth poundes a yeare. He hadde an Office besides that was as much worth or more to him, who was so godly and vertuous that God did maruellously blesse him: and he dwelt from his father aboue an hundred miles at the least. It chaunced tho­rough negligence of a seruāt, that his house was burned, and al that was in it, whych was all the goodes he had: so that he had scant a coate lefte to put on his backe. Whych great mischance and losse his neighbors bewailed: but presently his godly and charitable neighbours did not onely comforte hym, but also brought him mony, clothes, housholde stuffe, and such other ne­cessaries in great abundance, whych he vtterly refused, & in no wise would haue them, saying: I thank you most hartily, good christian and charitable neighbors, I will not burthē you with any thing: for, though God, to trye me withall, hathe sodainly impouerished me, as he didde Iob: yet I truste he will prepare for me, (thoughe not so muche) as he didde for Iob. I haue a Sonne that GOD of hys goodnesse hathe blessed wyth [Page] sufficient wealth, whom I haue broughte vp as a Father shold bring vp his childe, which I hope, will vse me as a child should vse his father. And as you haue bene readie to helpe me in thys great extremitie, so if any of you shoulde néede, I to my power wil be readie to relieue your necessitie, and then he toke hys leaue of his neighbours, with simple clothes, sufficient to kepe hym from the colde, and so he wente forwarde towardes hys Sonne.

I hope he vsed not his father when he came to him, as he that was of the Kings counsayle, that woulde not know his Father.

No, he vsed him a little better than so, as you shall perceiue by the Sequele. This auntiente man thoughe it were painefull vnto him, at last came to his Sonnes house, where he founde the doores shutte: bycause it was something darke and within y ^e Euening: and through his knocking one of his Sons seruauntes came to the doore, which when he hadde opened, he asked the olde man what he woulde haue, and with whom he woulde speake: who aunswered againe, I woulde very gladlye speak with your master, my master, said he, is now at Supper, therefore he is not at leasure to speake with you. I praye you tell him (saide the olde man,) that here is a poore man come to speake with him from hys father, and then I thinke he wil ey­ther come or sende for me. And then he went to his maister and sayde, sir there is a poore olde man at the doore, that wold faine speake with you, he saith he is come from your father: bid hym come in saide his maister, that he may Suppe with me, and af­ter Supper I will talke with hym. Then the olde man hys fa­ther came into the Parlour, where his sonne was at Supper, whom as soone as his sonne sawe, he knewe him, wherewith he rose out of his chaire, and knéeled downe, and asked his Fa­ther blessing: wherat his father coulde not refraine from wée­ping: then saide he, father I beseche you wéepe not but reioyce, with me your only sonne, the sighte of you reioyceth me more than any treasure on the Earth. I thoughte sonne, saide he, you would not haue knowne me in this coate: we ought, saide hys [Page] sonne, to knowe the garment by the person, not the person by the garment: therfore though your cote be chaunged, your coū ­tenaunce is not chaunged. Oh sonne saide his father, not long since I was welthy and able to helpe my friends: but nowe I am so poore that I am not able to helpe my selfe, and then he tolde him what mischaunce he had. Wel father saide his sonne be patient, Few sons wil aske such boonds of their fathers. and thanke God for al: but where you say, y ^t you are so poore that you are not able to helpe your selfe: that I truste will proue shortly not to be so. With that his Son fell vppon his knées, and desired his father to graunte him one thing that he woulde require at his hande. Alas sonne saide his father I am not able to graunt you any thing, father sayde hys sonne, that that I woulde aske of you you are easilye able to graunte, therefore I will not leaue knéeling vnto you, vntill you haue graunted me my petition. Then saide his father, rise vp sonne, and knéele no more, for I will graunte it you, sée­ing you saye I maye easilye doe it. Then saide his sonne, from thys time forwarde I giue you fréelye all my goodes and Landes, that I haue in the Worlde, and that you shal possesse and enioy them for your own, and that it shall be at your choice to giue and to bestowe them where you liste. Which when his father heard, he was astonied. Sonne saide he, that is too much for me, a small portion thereof shall serue my turne: father said his sonne, I trust you will not go from your grant, thus it must be, it shal be none other. Well son, séeing there is no remedie, I will take it vpon me, but if I had thoughte that this woulde haue bin your request, I woulde not haue graunted to perform it. Then his sonne made freshe and fine clothes to be putte on hym, and a faire Gowne vpon his backe, and did place him in his chayre at the vpper ende of the Table, saying, oh father howe doe I reioyce to sée you maister of this house, you said euē nowe that you were so poore, that you were not able to helpe your selfe, but nowe that is not so, for I am sure that you haue ynough for youre selfe and your friende. And hys sonne desi­red [Page] the Gentlemenne that were with him at Supper, to make much of his father, and so they did.

Howe did the Gentlemans wife like of this liberal gifte, that hir husband gaue to hys father? did she not frowne at it I pray you?

As she was very glad of hir husbandes fathers com­ming (thoughe he were poore and beggarlye) so she was moste ioyfull, when she saw that hir husbande had giuen his father y ^t that he did.

Manye Gentlewomen with vs would haue frouned on their husbandes halfe a yeare after (perhaps as long as they Marke this. hadde liued) if they shoulde haue entertayned their poore fa­ther in this order, and giuen theyr father in lawe such a liberal gifte. I will not say, but that there be manye with vs, that vse theyr fathers reuerentlye, and doe relieue them well in theyr necessitie: but I neuer heard of any, (and I feare I neuer shal, but of this one that dwelt in your Countrey of Mauqsun) that thus vsed their father, either in pouertie or prosperitie. I per­ceiue the children with you, doe maruellouslye obey, loue, and helpe their parents. Do the seruauntes also reuerently behaue themselues to their maisters, that brought them vp, and succor them if they come to pouertie?

You may be most sure they do. Few seruants do so. If a man shoulde fall in decay with vs, that hath brought vp Prentises or Seruants if anye of those seruants be then wealthy or able to helpe them, as soone as they heare that their saide maister is decayed, well is he that firste may helpe and relieue him: yea they are so ear­nest in helping their decayed maisters, that one hathe bene at great contention with another therfore, and haue gone to the lawe about it.

I haue liued a good while, yet I neuer hearde, that anye with vs went to the law about any such matter. Can you shew me any example therof?

Yea that I can a hundreth, but one shall suf­ [...]e, whyche I meane to tell you. There was a very rich [Page] occup [...]er, or rather a Merchant with vs, that hadde brought vp diuerse Prentises, whereof especially two of them, were not only diligent and obedient, whilest they dwelt with him, but waxed very riche after they began to trade for themselues. It chaunced after, that their saide maister (through great losses on the Sea, and through euill creditors) was maruellously decay­ed and brought to greate pouertie, who escaping the Sea very hardly, came home, and thinking then to giue ouer and to med­dle no more with suche Worldlye affaires (not shewing out­wardly the bare case he was in) sodainely solde all that he had, and paide all his debts therewith, which being paide, there was nothing remayned for him to liue on: & he solde his house also to pay his debts withal, wherin he had not past a moneths respite to dwel: whose bare case these two seruaunts that were so riche vnderstoode wel ynough, whereof one of them went in a mor­ning vnto him and saide thus: sir, I vnderstande that you are in more want than you make shew of, I haue learned that you haue like a good man paide al your debtes, notwithstanding the great losses you haue had of late, whereby you haue left youre selfe little or nothing to liue on. Besides that, you haue solde your house you dwell in. And séeing it is so, I am readie to be­stowe halfe the goods I haue on you, which I hope is so much, as will make you occupie freshly againe. You were my good maister and brought me vp, in this rich trade that I nowe doe vse, wheras if you hadde not shewed me, learned me, and other­wayes helped me, I coulde not haue gayned this I haue gottē. Besids that, you of your goodnesse gaue me an hundreth poūds to beginne withall, whiche in the meane season, to helpe you in your néede, loe I haue brought you. To whom his mayster saide, I thanke you for your good will, but I will neyther take halfe your goods, whiche moste curteously you haue offered me, neither the hundreth pounde that you now proffer me. For the truth is so, I am fully bente and determined, (from whiche I will not be perswaded) to giue my selfe to prayer and a quiet liuing, so that I wil not from henceforthe trouble my self with anye Worldly trade. Then, sir saide he, bycause you are thus [Page] bent, I wil perswade you no more to the contrarie, but séeing you haue refused my firste offer, I moste hartilye desire you to take my seconde proffer, whiche is, as long as you liue to take your bourding, lodging, & finding in my house: and of this one thing I assure you, you shall fare no worse than my selfe, nor lye no worse than my selfe. Then saide the decayed Mer­chauntman, God wil blesse and prosper such as you, that haue such care of your maisters that brought you vp: I thanke you for your gentle offer, it may be that I wil take it, but as yet I wil not certenly promise you. Seing you wil not, sayd his ser­uant, at this time graunt mée, I beséeche you yet promise mée nowe (that before I speake with you againe) none other herein preuent mée. That I will, sayde the decayed Merchant. And so they departed.

It will be a good while ere a decayed Mayster wyth vs haue suche an offer at anye of hys seruaunts handes. It was maruell if his other enriched seruaunt did not come to him and offer him the like?

In déede the next day after his other seruaunte came to him as you iudged, and offered to him as muche or more, whome he thanked heartilye for hys gentlenesse, but at that time he would not promise him to take his finding and lodging of him: sir sayde he, if it please you to promise me now to take your borde, your lodging, and apparell of me during your life, I will giue you besides euery wéeke halfe a Crowne in youre purse, to spende or doe therewith what you liste, whiche you shall haue also as long as you liue. I am muche beholden to you, sayde the decayed Merchaunte man, for this youre greate curtesie: I haue not a little cause to reioyce that I haue brought vppe suche a seruaunt, but I pray you to pardon me, for as yet I cannot promise you: séeing you wil not doe that, saide he, I pray you thē grant me that none other shall allure you frō me before you tell me of it, whereat the decayed marchaunt stayed a litle, remembring his promise to the other: you néede not stay at this sayd the seruaunt, therefore I beséech you let me craue so much at your handes. I am contente sayth he, I will not pro­mise [Page] to be with any before I haue tolde you therof. And when he had that aunsweare of him, he toke then his leaue of him.

A man would haue thought if he had not known the matter, that they had sued for some great commoditie to them­selues, they were so importunate: but I wold faine know who got him at the last.

If you wil giue eare a little you shal know. Within two or thrée days after, he y ^t was first with him came to him a­gain, & was very earnest in hand with him to graunt him hys request. To whō the decayed Merchāt man said, I would fain promise you, but I am bounde y ^t as yet I cannot, howe are you bound said he? I may not promise you said his master, before I haue told another therof. I beséech you tel me who is y ^e said his seruant? séeing you wil néeds know, said his maister, it is suche a one your neighbor, y ^t was once my seruant as you were. Thē I perceiue said he, y ^t he would haue you with him, yea in déede would he, said his maister. Wel sir said he, I trust you will not be with him, & refuse me, though perhaps he be somthing more able than I, yet I trust he shal not finde nor vse you, better thā I. Wel said the decayed Merchant man, I knowe not what I may do, I meane to take one of your offers, bycause you were my faithful seruants, but hastily to do it I am much in doubte, for y ^t therby I should displease the one of you, then said his ser­uant for as much as you can not promise me at this time, I be­séech you yet to do thus much for me, as to promise none other these ten dayes following. This I am content to grāt you, said his maister, whereof assure your selfe. And then for that time they both departed. The next day folowing this same man that had his grant for ten days, got out a processe, and cause it to be serued on the other that was his felow, and seruant to the saide decayed Merchant, whereby he was to appeare before y ^e Iudge y ^e next day folowing, who maruelled what matter he could haue against him, whervpō he appeared before the Iudge, at whiche time y ^e Plaintiffe was there also. And thē y ^e Plaintiffe said: my Lord such a mā was my maister, whō I found very good vnto me, & whō I am bound to loue and obey as long as I liue: who [Page] though he was once very rich & welthy, is now by mishap fall [...] in decay, which assoone as I vnderstood, I wēt vnto him, & prof­fered him of my goods to help him w ^tal as I thoght good: but he refused it, & in no wise wold haue it, saying y ^t he wold giue ouer toyling in y ^e world, & giue himself to quietnesse & prayer. Thē I offred him meat, drink, cloth, lodging, & al other necessaries du­ring his life, which he thanked me for, but he wold not thē pro­mise to take my offer, & since I vnderstand, that he would haue taken my offer, but this man (whom I haue caused to appeare before you) hath since gone about to preuent me, & would allure him out of my hands, to be with him. This my Lord is y ^e very matter y ^t I haue against him. This is a very strāge and a rare sute, said the Iudge, how say you said the Iudge to y ^e other, haue you practised to get this his decayed maister from him, and to be with you at your finding? no my Lord said he, I neuer went about to allure him frō him, for I protest before your honor, y ^t I neuer knew y ^t this man was desirous or went about to haue him, before he himselfe now told it. Therfore therin he burthe­neth me wrong: marrie I must néeds confesse, y ^t I haue offered him both my goods, which he hath refused, & his meate, drinke, clothing, and lodging, and al other necessaries belonging to him during his life, as this mā hath done: which to do I haue as gret cause as he hath, for I was his seruant, as wel as he, & therfore I hope I haue not deserued to be euill spoken off, for relieuing my good master in his necessitie, for al y ^t I haue I haue got thro­ugh his bringing of me vp, & by y ^e trade y ^t he taught me, therfore next vnder God, I am most boūd to him. Wherfore my lord, al this being truth y ^t I haue tolde, I trust I haue neither offēded this man nor any other. I must néeds say this, saide the Iudge, that he was both a verye good maister to you, and you shewe your selues as moste true and faythfull Seruauntes to hym: no doubt GOD hathe, doeth and will, prosper your dealings for your carefulnes and loue, that you haue to your maister, I [...]al him your maister bycause he was youre mayster. Yea my Lorde, saide they bothe, and we will take him for oure master as long as we liue, and vse hym as our father, whiles [Page] the breath is in our bodies: wel said the Iudge, I perceiue you both woulde faine haue him, yet one of you is like to go with­out him. But though you séeme to contende to haue him, doe you thinke he will be contente to be with one of you? yea my Lorde sayde the Plantiffe, he tolde me so himselfe, but he is loth to promise eyther of vs, bicause he thinketh thereby to dis­please one of vs. Then saide the Iudge, it were best that he wer here himselfe, and so he did sende one for him, who by and by came vnto the Iudge: howe saye you, saide the Iudge, here are two whiche were once your seruauntes, that are very desirous to giue you your kéeping, and other necessaries as long as you liue, whereof I thinke you are not ignoraunte. No my Lorde saide the decayed Merchant, they both I thanke them haue bin very importunate to haue me w ^t thē, & I woulde very faine be with one of thē, but they loue me both so wel, & I fauour them both so muche, that I cannot tel which of them I may choose to be withall: no said the Iudge that is maruel, but wil you be cō ­tente saide he, A straunge kind of plea­ding. that I shal rule the matter? yea my Lorde sayde he, with al my hearte. Then saide the Iudge I hope to make a quicke dispatche of this matter. But my Lord, said y ^e Plain­tiffe, I beséech you heare me first, what I can saye for my selfe: say on, saide the Iudge: I muste confesse, saide he, that we were both his seruaunts, but I was the first that offered him this of­fer, whiche my maister can not denye. I muste néedes confesse that said his maister, then saide the Iudge, how long was it af­ter that you hearde of his decaye, that you offred him this? for­sooth my Lorde, saide he, the nexte day after. Then saide the Iudge to the Defendant, howe long was it after ere you offe­red him this gentlenesse? within two houres after at the fur­thest said he. Then saide the Iudge to the Plantiffe, though he came after you, yet he made more spéede than you: then saide the Defendante, my Lorde, I beséeche you consyder, that I was my Maysters seruaunte before he was: yea my Lorde saide the Plaintiffe, but I was his seruaunte longer than he was, & also I think my maister did more for me, thā for him, for he gaue me a .C. l. at my first setting vp, for my self, therfore [Page] I am more boūd to do for him thā he: Yea but said y ^e Defendāt, my good Maister was boūd for me, for 500. l. in wares, which I borrowd at my beginning, & gaue me also. 100. Marks in mo­ney, which was my chief making: & therfore he did more for me than he didde for you, wherefore I am more bounde to doe for him. Then saide the Plaintiffe, I haue offered to finde him as long as he liueth, and to fare, goe, nor lye, no worse than my selfe: so haue I done, saide the Defendant, and I wil kéep him as well as you for your life. Besides that (my Lorde) I haue offered to giue him wéekly half a Crowne as long as he liueth, to put in his purse, to spend or vse as he listeth. Then sayd the Plaintiffe, I wil giue him a Crown to put in his purse wéekly as long as hée liueth, and let him do withal what hée list. I wil giue him a Noble, sayd the Defendant, rather than I will lose the company of my Maister for mony. No more, said the Iudge: do you offer this of spight that you haue one to the other? or for zeale and good will you beare to your Maister? Then saide the Plaintiffe, I owe this man the Defendant no euill will in al the worlde: but I offer this to my good Maister, of pure zeale and loue to my Maister. And I, said the Defendant, doe owe this man that hathe caused me here to appeare, no manner of mallice: but this that I haue proffered to my Maister, is onely of Christian charitie and pure loue to my Maister. Well, saide the Iudge, for that this your louing Maister is very willing to be with one of you, and bothe of you are willing to haue him. I will knitte vppe the matter in briefe. But firste tel me, how farre dothe one of you dwell from another? Forsooth, said they, we dwell wythin foure or fiue houses one of an other. Is there neuer a preatie house betwéene you, that is emptye or to lette? Yes, my Lorde, saide the Plainetiffe, a fréend of mine hath one almoste betwéene vs both. To whome the Iudge saide: wyll he not let it, thinke you? Yes I am sure, saide he, to whome I liste. Then I doe awarde, saide the Iudge, Marke this Iudgement. that both you shal hire the same for him to dwell in, and shall pay the rent there­fore equally, and you shall furnishe hys house with all thinges necessary for him, & he shall be at meate and meale with one of [Page] you one wéeke, and with the other another wéeke, and you shal find him clothes necessary for him equallye betwéene you, and when he listeth to dine or sup at home, you shall sende him vi­ctualles, as doth appertaine for him: and moreouer, bicause you haue offered it him, you shal giue him wéekely, as your turne commeth, a Crowne, to vse and bestowe as he listeth: and all this you shal do as long as he liueth: and if eyther of you die be­fore him, then the other that shal be aliue, shal be at al the char­ges for the finding of him, as y ^e one of you before desired. With which iudgement the decayed Merchant was well liked, the Plaintiffe and Defendant bothe well pleased: and the Iudge therefore of euery one praised.

I neuer knew of any that wente to lawe for suche a matter: I haue heard of some that haue arrested their Maisters that brought them vp, & that taught thē their trade to liue by, yea, and perhaps rather vpon a pretended malice, than vppon any good occasion. Sir, I am very desirous to knowe whether you haue many prisoners with you, or not?

We haue very few or none, for it is a very hard mat­ter to find w ^t vs any traytors, Fewe prisoners in Mauqsun. murtherers, or fellons, they fear God so muche, obey their Prince so duetifully, and loue one an other so wel. And if any be imprisoned, it is decayed debtors, (not wicked doers) that through misfortune are impo [...]erished, who cannot long be imprisoned, as before I mentioned.

Indéed, as you say, you haue y ^e charitablest people w ^t you, for helping of pore prisoners, and for paying of their debts that euer I hearde.

I wil tel you of as strāge a releasing of a prisoner, as hath bin in your coūtry I beléeue, if you wil be cōtēt to heare it.

Yes that I wil with al my heart.

It is a very cōmon thing with vs for men to visite y ^e prisons, & to vnderstād y ^e cause of their imprisonment, whereby according to their abilitie they maye finde meanes to release them.

It is not so cōmon with you, but is as rare with vs.

And on a certaine day, it was two mens chaunces to [Page] méete at one time at one prison, A strange ex­ample of one that went to the lawe, about the releasing of a prisoner. to visite what prisoners were there: and the kéeper answeared them, that then there was but onely one in prison, whiche when they heard, they earnestly de­sired the kéeper, that they mighte speake wyth hym. You shall with a good wil, saide he. And so they bothe went vnto the pri­soner, whome they asked, how long he had bin there: the priso­ner saide, I haue bin here yet scant a whole day: wherefore do you lye here, saide the one of them: Forsooth, saide he, for debt, and that is twentie pounds, whych I am not able to pay, yet I was once within this twelue month, worth an hundred poūds, and all my debtes payde: but throughe Gods good pruidence, not by mine owne negligence, I am nowe not worth a groate: wherefore I thanke him as muche, as thoughe I were as rich as I was before. What is he, (saide one of the charitable men) that kéepeth you in prison? a very honest man, saide he, who, through necessitie is vrged to do it, in hope, thereby to get some of my friendes to pay him, thereby to release me. Haue you a­ny friends or kinsfolks that dwell nigh here, said one of them, or that knoweth of this your imprisonment? No truely, said y ^e prisoner, but within a hundred miles I haue suche friendes, I hope, that woulde quickly release me, if they knewe of it. Wel, saide the one of them, if your friendes were here, they shoulde not néede to trouble themselues aboute the deliuering of you, for I will pay youre debt, and release you out of prison: there­fore tel me his name, said he, and where he dwelleth, to whom you owe y ^e mony, for I wil not dine before I haue paid him thy debt, y ^t he may release thée. No, said the other, you shall not pay his debt, for I wil pay it for him: you shal not, said the other, for I was within the prison doore before you. And thus they were at contention one with an other, whiche of them should release the pore man out of prison. And when the prisoner had told thē where his creditor dwelled: then he that was firste within the prison dore, was going to the creditor to agrée with him, and to paye him the prisoners debte: which when the other sawe, he would néedes go with him also, saying, that he woulde release y ^e prisoner. And for that he is my friend, said he, I knowe at my [Page] desire he will take my money before yours. Yea, said the other, I wil haue a remedy for that, & he séeing an Officer there at the prison dore, said, I pray thée arrest this man at my sute for such matter as I haue againste him: and that he maye appeare this day in the afternoone before the Iudge. And when he had giuen him his fée, he departed thence, and then the Officer arreasted hym by and by, and tolde him it was at the sute of such a one. Wel, saide he that was arrested, I wil putte in sureties for my appearance: and so he did.

I thinke fewe Sergeantes with vs can saye, that e­uer they arrested any in suche a case: But did he appeare before the Iudge at afternoone?

Yea I warrant you. At whiche time the Plaintif [...] met him, who saide then vnto the Iudge: my Lorde, it was my chaunce this day to goe to a prison, where I found but on­ly one prisoner, who lyeth there for twentie pounds debt, whi­che prisoner I woulde haue released, and paide his saide debte to hys creditor, but this man whome I haue caused to appéere before you, woulde not suffer me, for when I was going vnto him that imprisoned the pore manne, he saide he woulde goe to him, and discharge the prisoner, wherein me thought he offered me great wrong, to take that charitable worke out of my hand that I was determined to do.

But sauing your tale: me thinke, that he hadde no lawfull cause to arreast him in this case.

You thinke so: but it is as lawefull with vs to sue a man for preuenting him of a charitable déede, as it is lawful for a man to arrest one with you for preuenting him of any world­ly commodity. And when he had told his tale before the Iudge: then the Iudge asked the Defendant, whether he came oute of his house, purposely to release a prisoner, or not? and he sayde, yea. Did you so too, saide the Iudge to the Plaintife? Yea, my Lorde, saide he, that was the onelye cause why I wente from, home. Then the Iudge said to the Defendant, was this Plain­tiffe within the prison gates before you? My Lorde, saide he, I muste néedes confesse that: but I followed hym immediately. [Page] Then the Iudge called them to him one after an other, and examined thē priuely, at what time they were first minded, to go visit the prison, thereby to release a prisoner: & he that was first in the prison said, that the night before, he was ful­ly determined to do so the next morning as soone as he was risen: the other being defendant said, that when he was rea­die deuising what he were best to do, he thought he could not go about a better worke than to visite the prisoners, and to helpe to release such as were there, y ^t were not able to release themselues. Then said the Iudge, you are both charitable & godly men, you striue to do well, where as many striue to do euil. But for asmuch as you are both willing, to shew a great déede of charitie of the poore prisoner, and that one of you wil néedes paie his said debte of twentie pound: Note this Iudgement. my Iudgement is, that you that are the plainetife, partly for that you were first within the prison doore, but chiefly for that you were first determined to visite the prison, to do suche a charitable worke, that you shall paie the said twētie pounds to his cre­ditour, thereby to release him out of pryson. And further, by­cause you that are Defendant, were so desirous to paie the same for him, and to release him: therefore I decrée that you shall giue the said poore man, when he is released out of pry­son, twētie pounds also, to helpe to maintaine & succour him withall, for that I vnderstand he hath nothing to liue on: for it is as charitable a déede, to relieue poore men (that can not tell how to liue) when they be out of prison, as to helpe to re­lease them out of prison. For many are driuen to liue more hardly out of prison, than in prison. With which iudgement, these two charitable men did greatly reioice, and were mer­uelously well contented, and therewith the Iudge arose and departed.

If you had not tolde me this tale, I would haue sid it is Too good to be true. Truly your customes are so cō ­mendable, your lawes so profitable, your Iudges so iuste, & your stories so straunge that I can not almost be wearie to heare them. Their are many olde men in our Countrie, but [Page] I beléeue the oldest of them all did neuer heare of any suche fute before a Iudge, and that more, I thinke they ne­uer shall. But whereas they striue thus with you, who shall soonest release poore menne out of prison, there are many with vs that contend, who shal kéepe them longest in prison.

At the last day when Christ the generall releaser of all prysoners, shall sende the mercifull to heauen, and the vnmercifull and the harde harted cut throtes, to [...]uerlasting fire, from whiche none shalbe able to release them: then they will be sory that they kepte their poore brethren in pri­son. For if Christe will sende the vnrepentant to Hell, that doe not visite the poore: prisoners that are impryso­ned by other: it is not like he will sende them to Heauen that throwe their poore brethren in prison, and moste cru­elly kéepe them there, suffering them to hunger starue, and dye.

I trust there is none suche in suche a Christian countrie as your is.

As you trust there is none suche, so I woulde to God there were none such. But whosoeuer are such, I am sure once they will repent that they haue bene suche. I pray you sir, are the Gentlewomen with you very charitable to the poore▪

For charitable almes, and for succoring of the poore, they excéede generally all the Gentlewomen in the worlde.

Surely we haue many godly and vertuous Gen­tlewomen with vs, but many are a greate deale more gi­uen to prampe vp themselues, than to shewe mercie and pit­tie on the poore.

I will tell you such a thing of thrée Gentlewo­men of our countrie, that I thinke you neuer heard the lyke done since you were borne, by thrée of yours: So that you will heare it.

Be bolde I will heare it, if it were an houre long.

It chaunced that thrée Gentlewomen in the coole of the euenyng did walke abroade in the fieldes for their re­creation, A stranger ex­ample of three Gentlewomen and within a quarter of an houre after, they espied a young chylde sitting by it selfe, wéepyng, but they salue no bodie with it, and immediatly they all thrée ranne to­wardes it as faste as they were able for their liues, that no Gentlewoman with you woulde haue runne any faster, if it had bene to saue all the liuing they had. But one of them, that was at the first behind, came first to it and catcht holde of it, saying, for asmuche as this poore childe hath neyther mother, nor other kéeper here, that I can sée, I will haue it and kéepe it, for I haue wooune it by the lawe of running, Then one of the other Gentlewomen sayde, you shall not haue it, for though you are swifter then I, whereby you did out runne me: yet I was the firste that ranne towarde it, therefore I ought to haue it by right. Then spake the third Gentlewoman, though the one of you by swifte running haue gotte it, and the other by running first would haue it, yet I sawe it before any of you, and haue taken as great paynes in running as eyther of you, therefore neyther of you shall haue it, for I will haue it, Well, sayd the Gentle­woman that had it, pleade you your title, and I will pleade my possession: for I assure you, you shall winne it by the Lawe before you shall haue It. Well, sayde one of the Gen­tlewomen, I will not take it from you by force, but I tell you truely, I will haue it, or else the L [...]we shall fayle me. Then saide the thirde, I assure you I will haue it, if the Lawe will gyue it mée. Then the Gentlewo­man that had it saide, wée maye goe to the Lawe in a good cause and offende not. But as it would grieue mée to kéepe it and after by Lawe to loose it: so it woulde not muche please you to spende your time in the Lawe aboute that you shall neuer obtaine, but if you will néedes prosecute the Lawe agaynst me, I muste defende my cause aswell as I [Page] can: one thing I comforte my selfe withall before we begin, the Iudge will not be partiall, but Iudge vprightly. Then saide one of the other Gentlewomen, I trust you will not be angrie with me, for going to the lawe with you in this case: neyther with me I hope, sayd the other Gentlewoman: no saide she I will owe you neuer the more euill will, for if one may be angrie and sinne not, then we may go to the lawe and hate not.

Such a matter by the Lawe I beléeue was neuer tried in our countrie: but did the other Gentlewoman sue hir for this poore childe, I pray you tell me.

I in déede did they.

It had bene reason, that first they should haue askt their husbandes leaue therein.

They that haue no husbandes, néede aske no leaue of their husbandes: they were all thrée widowes.

Perhaps they had no children of their owne▪ & that made thē the more desirous to bring vp this poore foundling.

Perhaps that would haue bene a meane to make your Gentlewomen to haue done so. But I assure you, fiue children were the fewest that any of them had. The next day (bicause they woulde not prolong time) the other two seue­rally by processe, summoned this Gētlewoman that had the childe, to appeare before the Iudge the next day after: who appeared accordingly, against whome they had put in their billes of complaint, wherein eche declared for themselues as­well as they could. Whose billes when the Iudge had well perused, he said, surely this our Coūtrie of Mauqsun hath such sutes in the Lawe, as I thinke no Countrie hath besides: I pray you Gentlewomen saide he, do you sue this Gentle­woman of spite and disdaine that she kéepeth the childe from you, or of a Christian and charitable loue that you haue to do such a godly déede? Truely, saide the one of them, I do it onely of Christian charitie: and the other said, I do it of pure loue that I owe to the poore member of my maister Christ. We do it not for want of children, for we both haue good store [Page] of children of our owne. And so haue I also, said she that had the childe, wherfore my desire is, only to kéepe it for the loue that I owe to God, and for the zeale I owe vnto the poore friendlesse childe. Well, saide the Iudge, I perceyue you claime [...]he pore childe by your first comming to it, and by ta­king it into your possession, which is a good point for you to pleade by, séeing neither of them before had any title in the childe. My Lorde, saide shée, Such cases are not common. I hope it will rather helpe than hinder me: for the trueth is, I was so earnestly affecti­oned to haue the child, that I did run with all the indeuor I coulce, whereby it was my good happe first to take holde of it, and so I tooke it, and since I haue kepte it. It appeareth, saide the Iudge, that you were desirous of it, or else you woulde not haue runne with such a good will: Marke the wordes of the Iudge. and then the Iudge saide to one of the other Gentlewomen, you claime to haue title in the childe, for that you were the firste of the thrée that beganne to runne towardes the childe: it sée­meth that you were desirous to haue the childe, or else you woulde not haue preassed to haue runne firste of al towards it: But for that this Gentlewoman was behinde you, and then did out runne you, being muche grosser than either of you, whereby she was the more vnable to runne, whiche in euery mans iudgement, shoulde rather haue made hir come behinde, thoughe she had béene before, than to come before, being behinde: therefore I must néedes gather, though you were very desirous to haue the childe, yet she was most ear­nest to haue it, for that she toke the moste paine therein, in that she did out tunne you both, whereas there was greate oddes that both you should haue out [...] runne hir. And where­as you (saide the Iudge to the thirde Gentlewoman) doe claime the childe by firste seing of it, that maketh more a­gainste you than with you: for you had such aduantage by firste séeing of it, that thereby you mighte haue bene a good waye before either of them: and for that you are moste slen­der of the thrée, and therefore more apte to runne, you muste néedes haue bene firste of all at the childe, if your desire to [Page] haue it, had bene as carnest as your pretence is great, for you running before they knew, must néedes be at the childe before they coulde. And moreouer your comming lagge or behind them both, your séeing it first, and slēder making cō ­sidered, sheweth manifestly, that you ranne rather for com­panie, than for the child, or to get you good credit by rūning, which you might haue lost by tarying. These are reasuna­ble coniectures, yet there may be priuy impediments that I know not of. Wherefore Gentlewomen, as I feare I can not please you all, so I woulde be loth to displease any of you. I trust none of you would haue me to deuide the child among you, as the harlot that was not the right mother, would haue had King Salomon to do: for your desire is, to haue it to preserue aliue, but y ^e wicked harlot for spite wold haue had it killed. Yea my Lord said they, we desire to haue, it nourished not spoiled, & fostered not famished. Then sayd the Iudge, coulde you find no body nye it, I muse howe it came there: my Lord sayd she that had the child, this mor­ning early I sent two of my men to search the fieldes, & not farre from the place where we [...]ound the childe, they [...] where a poore womā was dead, but of what disease I know not, she was not killed, for there was neither wounded nor stroke to be found on hir, which poore woman was the very mother of this child that I haue, for they tried that, not only at the next towne, but also that she had two young children more, which woman was a widdow. So that those her two children haue neuer a father to releue them. Where are the two children said the Iudge? forsooth, sayd the Gentlewo­man, they be in that towne, my men know where they [...]e, for they did sée them: what became of the dead woman said the Iudge? the men of the same towne where she dwelled caused hir to be brought thither, and finding that she dyed of Gods visitation, they buried her. Well sayd the Iudge, God hath so wrought, that where perhaps I shoulde haue displeased some of you, nowe I hope I shall please you all: therefore this is my Iudgement: you Gentlewoman that [Page] tooke such paynes in running, whereby you first tooke holde of the Childe, shal haue the same Child to kéepe, accordyng to your desire, which I trust you will bring vp, as you will do your own. And for y ^e both you so fain wold haue had the Child, you shal haue the other two Children betwéen you, that is, either of you one: And thus you thrée rich widowes, shall kéepe thrée Childrē of one poore widow. New lay you, saide the Iudge, are you pleased herewith? yea my Lorde said they, and we reioyce at your wise and godly iudgemēt: How say you, Siuqila? Doe Gentlewomen vse to sue at the Lawe in this order with you?

No, nor I thinke in few places else, if is possible if thrée Gentlewomen with vs had found a fine little Pup­pie, or a prety Spaniel, it maye be that they woulde haue gone to the Law one with another rather for that, than for a poore motherlesse or Friendlesse Childe. I truste ours Courte wil not be cumbred with such causes, nor our Iud­ges troubled with any such sutes. Tel me I pray you sir, what giftes with you, procure the greatest friend ship, or get the greatest reward? What giftes are best accep­ted in Mauqs [...].

Forsooth Bookes.

And what next that?

Bookes.

And what next that?

Bookes.

Here is nothing with you but Bookes: as thoughe nothing requireth friendshippe or rewardes but Bookes.

Yes mayne giftes beside Bookes, procure and deserue rewardes, and friendshippe with vs, but Bookes are the chiefest of all other: for they are suche Scholemay­sters as do teache all Sciences and knowledge espe­ciallie to rype and pregnante wittes, without any wages or rewards:

What meante you to name Bookes thrice on a rowe?

Marie I will tell you: they that inuent and sette forth diuine bookes to perswade men from sinne, to allure them to godlinesse, to traine them to truth, to winne them to obedience, and to leade them to the endlesse life: they I say, that giue such giftes, making their giftes them selues, haue of all other with vs, the most frendship & the greatest rewardes therefore. And they that deuise and frame bookes, that teach good gouernment, politike orders, and common commodities for a common wealth: such with vs as giue such giftes of their owne making, finde great frendship and the next rewardes to the other. And they that inuent and make bookes, that teach honest trades, that explaine lear­ned sciences, and that open at large necessarie knowledge, such as present any such giftes of their owne inuention, ac­quire next fauour and frendship to the other, besides sufficiēt rewardes correspondent to the gift.

Those gifts that procure the most frendship, and the greatest rewardes with you, I beleue obteyne the least frendship, and the least rewardes with vs: and those that are most estéemed & gratified with vs, are least regarded & rewarded with you. But how are such bookes estéemed of you after they be published?

Maruelously, they reade thē throughly, they per­use them aduisedly, and they practise them diligently: doe they not so with you?

Some do so I am sure, but the most do not so I am certaine.

Do not many buy bookes with you?

Yes truly that they do.

Then it is no doubt, but that they do reade those bookes they buy.

Nay, nor euery one readeth not the bookes that are giuen them.

If they do not read them thorowly, to what ende doe they buy them?

Many are so fantasticall with vs, that they buy [Page] them for the newnesse of the Booke, not for the goodnesse of the worke. For some, if they haue not a Booke, be it neuer so good almost, before any other sée it, or haue it, he refuseth to reade it, and maketh no accompte of it: tushe, saieth he, that Booke is stale, as thoughe no Booke is good but while it is newe. And al­so a greate forte with vs, seldome or neuer reade Bookes tho­rowly and aduisedly, vnlesse they be in such places, that almost they can haue no other exercise, as suche as are in prison, way­ters in the Courte and other places, and suche as trauel on the water, where many heare and reade that in good Bookes, that otherwise they shoulde neuer reade nor heare.

Truely, they are not of my mind, if I should buy a Booke, I would surely reade y ^e Booke. As one cannot wel iudge of a Booke before he reade it, so we ought to reade it throughly before we iudge it. And as some haue a better opinion in an vnread Booke, than it doth deserue: so some vnread Bookes do deserue a better opinion, than many haue in them. Therfore it is good to reade Bookes, for if an euil man reade a good booke, he may be the better: and if a good man reade an euil Booke, he will not be the worse. But we are sure of one thing with vs, e­uill Bookes cannot infect vs, for we haue not an euill Booke in all our countrie.

And if some might haue theyr willes, they woulde not suffer a godly Booke in all our Countrey. Well sir, if you were as much tyred with talking, as I am hungrie with hark­ning, you woulde tarrye no longer to aunsweare me: but now for that I haue no more to aske you, but am satisfied in al thin­ges, as my heart doth desire: therefore I will trouble you no more: Assuring you, that for godly lawes, politike orders, righteous Rulers, merciful Magistrates, iust Iudges, louing Lawyers, pitifull Phisitions, zealous Husbandes, obedient Wiues, dutifull Children, trustie Seruants, good Landlords, honest Tenauntes, curteous Gentlemen, vertuous Gentle­women, charitable Neyghboures, and faithful Subieds, your Countrey of Mauqsun excéedeth all the Countreys in the Worlde. You haue ledde them such a daunce, that in al things [Page] I am sure they wil not follow you in haste.

I would you were as sure that they would follow vs in goodnesse, as I am sure, we wil not folow them in euilnesse: though I am in doubt that few wil practise our doings, yet I beleue that you wil declare to many our deings.

Be sure of that, I may trauell where I liste, and go where I wil, but sure I am that I shall neuer come into anye Countrey, where al things are in suche order as they are with you.

Many a Countrey may be godly gouerned, politike­ly ordered, with good lawes furnished, and with obedient sub­iects inhabited, and yet far vnlike ours in al points. Wel, they may follow vs if they wil, but they shal not go before vs if they would.

If they ment to follow you, as I feare they doe not, they would come so far behinde, that I am out of doubte they shoulde neuer ouertake you. Though my iorney home, will be something grieuous vnto me, yet the knowledge of the wor­thy orders of your countrey, maketh me very ioyful: but there is no remedie, if I intende to come home, I must set forwards and begin to go home. Therefore nowe I wil take my leaue of you, most humbly thanking you, for the paines you haue taken for the vnfolding vnto me your maruellous orders, and youre most Christian conditions.

I woulde your long iorney were no more painefull to you, than the discourse, of our Countrey hath bene trouble to me. The God of al goodnesse guide you in your trauel.

I doubt not but he wil: for he wil defende them from dangers that trust truely to him. In whom is all my trust, and in Iesus Christe, whose Kingdome God grant we may all in­herite. AMEN.