THE Meeting of Gallants at an Ordinarie: OR The Walkes in Powles.
LONDON Printed by T. C. and are to be solde by Mathew Lawe, dwelling in Paules Churchyard. 1604.
A Dialogue betweene Warre, Famine, and the Pestilence, blazing their seuerall Euills.
THE MEETING of Gallants at an Ordinarie.
WHat Signior Ginglespur, the first Gallant I mette in Powles, since the one and thirtie daie, or the decease of Iuly, and I may fitly call it the decease, for there deceast aboue three hundred that daye, a shrewde Prologue marry to the Tragedie that followed: and yet I speake somewhat improperly to call it a Prologue, because those that tied were all out of their Partes; What dare you venture Sig. at the latter ende of a Fraye now? I meane not at a Fraye with swordes and Bucklers, but with sores & Carbunckles: I protest you are a strong Mettalde Gentle-man, because you do not feare the dangerous Featherbeds of London, nor to be tost in a perilous Blancket, or to lie in the fellowes of those sheetes that two dead Bodies were wrapt in some thrée monethes before. Naye I can tell you, there is many an [Page] honest house in London wel stockt before with large linneu, where now remaines not aboue two shéetes & a halfe, [...] so the good man of the house driuen to lye in the one sheete for shift, till the payre be washt and dried: for you knowe tenne wound out of one house, must for shame carry fiue payre of shéetes with them, being co [...]find and put to boord-wages, the onely Knights policy to saue charges in victualles. But soft Signior, what may he be that stalkt by vs now in a ruinous sute of apparell, with his Page out at Elbowes: tis a strange sight in Powles Signior, mée thinkes, to see a broken Page follow a seamerent Maister.
What doe you wonder at that sight now? tis a Limbe [...] the fashion, and as commendable to goe ragged after a plague, as to haue an Antient full of holes and Tatters after a Battaile: And I haue séene fiue hundred of the same rancke in apparell, for most of your choyce and curious Gallants came vp in cloathes, because they thought it very dangerous to deale with Sattin this plague-time, being Diuell ynough without the plague: beside there hath bene a great Dearth of Taytors, the propertie of whose deathes were wonderfull, for they were tooke from Hell to Heauen: All these were Motiues sufficient to perswade Gentlemen as they loued their liues, to come vp in their old sutes, and be very respectiue and carefull how they make themselues new-ones, and to venture vppon a Burchen-lane Hose and Doublet, were euen to shunne the villanous Iawes of Charibdis, and fall into the large swallow of Scylla, the deuouring Catch-pole of the Sea: for their bomba [...]t [...] wicked ynough in the best and soundest seas [...], and there is [Page] as much perill betwéene the wings and the skirts of one of their Doublets, as in all the liberties of London, take Saint Tooles Parish, and all the most infected plac [...]s of England.
Well, I haue almost mard their market, for Gentlemen especially, those that loue to smell sweete, for they are the worst Milliners in a Kingdome, and their sutes beare the mu [...]iest perfume of any thing breathing, vnlesse it were an Usurers Night-cappe againe: And indéed that sents worse then the strong breath of Aiax, where his seuenfold shield is turnde to a Stoole with a hole in it. But sée yonder, Signior Stramazoon and Signior Kickshawe, now of a suddaine allighted in Powles with their durtie Bootes, lets encoun [...]er them at the fift Pillar, in them you shall finde my talke verified, and the fashion truly pictured. What Signior, both well met vppon the old worne Brasse, the Moone hath had aboue sixe great Bellies since wée walkt here last together, and layne in as often: Mée thinkes Signiors, this middle of Powles lookes strange and bare, like a long-hayrde Gentleman new powlde, washt and shaued, and I may fitly say shaued, for there was neuer a lusty Shauer séene walking here this halfe yeare: especially if he loued his life, hée would reuolt from Duke Humfrey, and rather bée a Wood-cleauer in the Country, then a chest-breaker in London: But what Gallants march vp a pace now, Signiors; how are the high waies fild to London?
Euery mans head here is full of the Proclamation, and the honest blacke Gentleman the Tearme, hath [...]ept a great Hall at Westminster againe: all the Tauernes in [Page] Kings-streete will be Emperors, Innes and Alehouses at least Marquesses a piece: Now Cookes begin to make more Coffins then Carpenters, and burie more whole meate then Sextons, fewe Bells are heard a nights beside old Iohn Clappers, the Bellmans: And Gentlemen twas time for you to come, for I know many an honest Tradesman that would haue come downe to you else, and set vp their shops in the Country, had you not venturde vp the sooner; and he that would haue brande it, and bene a vaineglorious silken Asse all the last Sommer, might haue made a Sute o [...] Sattin cheaper in the Plague-time, then a Sute of Marry-muffe in the Tearme-time; there was not so much Ueluet stirring, as would haue bene a Couer to a little Booke in Octano, or seamde a Lie [...]enants Buffe-doublet; A French-hood would haue bene more wondred at in London, then the Polonians with their long-tayld Gaberdines, and which was most lamentable, there was neuer a Gilt Spur to b [...] séene all the St [...]and ouer, neuer a Feather wagging in all F [...]etstreete, vnlesse some Country Forehorse came by, by méere chaunce, with a Raine-beaten Feather in his Costrill; the stréete looking for all the world like a Sunday morning at sixe of the Clocke, thrée houres before seruice, and the Bells ringing all about London, a [...] if the Coronation day had bene halfe a yeare long.
Trust me Gentlemen a very sore discourse.
I could tell you now the miserable state and pittifull cas [...] of many Tradesmen whose wares lay dead on their hands by the burying of their seruants, and how those were held [Page] especially very dangerous and perilous Trades that has any woollen about them, for the infection being for the most part a Londoner, loued to be lapt warme, and therefore was saids to skip into wollen cloathes, and lie smothring in a shag-hayrde Rugge, or an old fashionde Couerlid: to co [...]me which, I haue hard of some this last Sommer that would not venture into an U [...]holsters shoppe amongst dangerous Rugges, and Feather-bed-tikes, no, although they had bene sure to haue bene made Aldermen when they came out againe: such wa [...] their infectious conceyte of a harmelesse necessary Couerlid, and would stop their foolish Noses, when they past through Watlingstreet by a Ranke of Woollen Drapers. And this makes me call to memory the strange and wonderfull dressing of a Coach that scudded through London the ninth of August, for I put the day in my Table-booke, because it was worthy the registing.
This fearefull pittifull Coach was all hung with Ru [...] from the top to the toe of the Boote, to kéepe the leather and the nayles from infection; the very Nosthrills of the Coachhorses were stopt with hearb-grace, that I pittied the poore Beasts being almost windlesse, and hauing then more Grace in their Noses, then their Maister had in all his bosome, and thus they ran through Cornewell iust in the middle of the stréet, with such a violent Trample as if the Diuell had bene Coachman.
A very excellent Folly, that the name of the Plague should take the wall of a Coach, and driue his Worship downe into the Chanell.
But sée how we haue lost our selues, Powles is changde into Gallants, and those which I saw come vp in old [Page] Taffala Doublets yesterday, are slipt into nine yardes of Sattin to day.
And Signiors, wée in especiall care haue sent our Pages to enquire out a payre of honest cleane Taylors, which are hard to be found, because there was such a number of Botchers the last Sommer: and I thinke it one of Hercules Labours, to finde two whole Taylors about London, that hath not béene Plagued for their stealing, or else for sowing of false séeds, which péepe out before their Seasons.
But what, dare you venture to an Ordinarie: harke, the Quarter-Iarkes are vp for a Leauen; I know an honest Host about London, that hath barreld vp newes for Gallants, like Pickled Oysters, marry your Ordinarie will cost you two shillings, but the Tales that lie in Brine will be worth sixpence of the money: for you know tis great charges to keepe Tales long, and therefore he must be somewhat considered for the laying out of his Language: for blinde Gue you know has six [...]pence at the least for groping in the Darke.
Yea; but Signior Gingle-spur, you sée we are altogether vnfurnished for an Ordinarie till the Taylor cut vs out and new mould vs: & to rancke amongst. Gallāts in old Apparel, why their very Apish Pages would breake Iests vpon our Elbowes, and dominere ou [...] our worne doublets most tyrannically.
Puh. Signior Stramazoon, you turne the Bias the wrong way, you doubt where there is no doubt, I will conduct you to an Ordinarie where you shall eate priuate amongst Essex Gentlemen of your fashioned rancke in Apparell, who as yet waite for fresh Cloathes, as you for new Taylers, & account it more commendable to come vp in seamerent Suites, and whole Bodies, then to haue infectious torne Bodies, and sound Suites.
I [...] it be so, Signior, (harke a Quarter strikes) wée are for you, we will follow you, for I loue to he [...]re Tales when a merrie. Corpulent Host bandies them out of his Flop-mouth; but how far must we march now like tottre [...] Souldiers after a Fray, to their Nuncions?
Why, if you throw your eyes but a little before you, you may see the signe and token that beckens his Guest to him; do you heare the Clapper of his Tongue now?
S [...]oote, the mad Bulchin squeakes thriller thē the Saun [...] Bell at Westminster.
Nay, now you shall heare him ring lustily at our entrāce, stop your eares if you loue thē, for one of his words wil run about your braines louder thē the Drum at y e Beare-gardē.
What Gallant [...] are you come, are you come? welcome Gentlemen; I haue newes enough for you all, welcome againe, and againe: I am so fatte and purste, I cannot speake loude inough, but I am sure you heare mée, or you shall heare me: Welcome, welcome Gelt [...]men, I haue Tales, and [...]ailes for you: seate your selues Gallantes, enter Boyes & Beardes with dishes and Platters; I will be with you againe in a trice ere you looke for me.
Now Signiors how like you mine Host? did I not tell you he was a madde round knaue, and a merrie on [...] too: and if you chaunce to talke of fatte Sir Iohn Old-castle, he wil tell you, he was his great Grand-father, & not much vnlike him in Paunch, if you marke him well by all descriptions: and sée where hée appeares againe. Hee told you he would not be longe from you, let his humor haue scope enough I pray, and there is no doubt but his Tales will make vs laugh are we be out of our Porridge: Howe now mine Host?
O my Gallant of Gallants, my Top and Top Gallant, how many Horses hast thou kilde in the Countrie with the hunting of Harlottries; goe too, was I with you, you madde wagges? and I haue beene a merrie knaue this s [...] and fortie yeares, my Bullyes, my Boyes.
Yea, but my honest-larded Host, where be these Tales now?
I haue them at my tongues end my Gallant Bullyes of fiue and twenty, my dainty liberall Landlords I haue them for you: you shall neuer take me vnprouided for Gentlemen, I keepe them like Anchouises to rellish your drinke wel [...] stop your mouths gallants, and I wil stuffe your cares I warrant you, and fi [...]t I begin with a Tipsie Uint [...]er in London.
Of a Vintner in London, dying in a humour.
THis discourse that followes, G [...]tlemen-gallants, is of a light-headed Uintner, who scorning to be onely drunke in his owne Seller, would get vp betimes in the morning, to bée downe of his Nose thrice before euening: he was a man of all Tauernes, and excellent Musitian at the Sackbut, and your onely dauncer of the canaries: this st [...]ange Wine-sucker had a humour this time of infection, to faine himselfe sick, and indéed he had swallowed downe many Tauerne-tokens, and was infected much [...]th the plague of drunkennes: but howsoeuer, sick he would be, for the humour had possessed him, when to the comforting of his poore heart, he powrde dawne a leauen shillings in Rose of Solace, more then would haue [...]erde all the sick persons in the Pesthouse; and yet for all that he felt himselfe ill at his stomacke aft [...]wards, wherefore his request was, reporting himselfe very féeble, to haue two men hired with [...]xpence a piece, to transport him ouer the way to his friends house: but when he saw he was deluded, and had no body to carry him, [...]e flung his Gowne about him very desperatly, tooke his [...]wne legges, and away he went with himselfe as coragiously, as the best stalker in Europe: where being allighted, not long after, he rounded one in the eare in priuate, and bad that the great Bell should be towlde for him, the great Bel of all, and with all possible spéede that might be: that done, he gagged open the Windowes, and when [Page] the Bell was towling, cried, lowder yet; I heare thée not Maister Bell: then strutting vp and downe the chamber, spake to the Audience in this wise.
Ist possible a man should walke in such perfect memory and haue the Bell towle for him? sure I neuer heard of any that did the like before mée.
Thus by towling of the great Bell, all the Parish rang of him, diuerse opinions went of him, and not without cause or matter to worke vpon: In conclusion, within fewe dayes after, he was found to be the man indéed, whose part he did but play before; his Pulses were angry with him, and began to beate him; all his Pores fell out with him; the Bel towld for him in sadnes, rung out in gladnes, and there was the end of his drunken madnes; such a ridiculour[?] humour of dying was neuer heard of before: and I hope neuer shall be againe, now he is out of England.
This was a strange fellow mine Host, and worthy Stowes Chronicle.
Nay Gallants Ile fit you, and now I will serue in another as good as Uineger and Pepper to your Roast-béefe.
Lets haue it; lets taste on it mine Host, my noble fat Actor.
How a yong fellow was euen bespoke and iested to death by Harlots.
THere was a company of intollerable light Women assembled together, wh [...] all the time of infection, liued vpon Citizens seruants: yong Nouices that made their Maisters Baggs die of the Plague at home, whilst they tooke Sanctuarie in the Countrie. Mistake me not, I meane not the best rancke of seruants: but vnderlings, and bogish So [...]tes, such as haue not witte to distinguish Companies, & auoyde the temptation of Harlots, which make men more miserable then Dericke. These light-heelde Wagtailes who where ar [...]de (as they tearme it) against all weathers of Plague and Pestilence; carrying alwaies a French Supersedies about them for the sicknesse, were determined being halfe Tipsie, and as light now in their Heads, as any where else: to execute a Iest vpon a yong vnfruitfull Fellow which should haue had the Banes of Matrimonie asked betweene him and a woman of their Religion, which would haue proued Bane indéede, and worse then Rattes-bane, to haue beene coupled with a Harlot: But note the euent of a bespeaking Iest, these women gaue it out that he was dead, sent to the Sexton of the Church in all hast to haue the Bell rung out for him, which was suddainly heard, and many comming to enquire of the Sexton, his name was spread ouer all the parish, (hée little dreaming of that dead report bring as then in perfect health & memorie,) on the morrow as the custome is, the Searchers came to the house where he laye to discharge their office, asking for the dead Bodie, and in what Room it lay, who hearing himself named, in such a cold shape almost strucke dead indéede with their words, replyed [Page] with a hastie Countenance (for he could play a Ghost well,) that hée was the man: At which the Searchers started, and thought hée had béene new risen from vnder the Table; when vomiting out some two or thrée déepe-fecht Oaths; hee askt what villaine it was which made that Iest of him: but whether the c [...]nceit strucke cold to his heart or whether the strumpets were Witches I know not, (the next degrée to a Harlot is a Bawde, or a Witch,) but this yongster daunced the shaking of one s [...]éete within fewe daies after, and then the Search [...]s lost not their labours, and therefore I conclude thus.
Well timde my litle round and thicke Host, haue you any more of these in your fatte Budget?
I haue them, my Gallant Bullies, and here comes one fitly for sawce to your Capon.
Of one that fell drunke off from his Horse, taken for a Londoner, dead.
IN a certaine country-towne not farre of, there was a boone companion lighted amongst good fellowes, as they call good fellowes now a dayes, which are those that can drinke best, for your excellent drunkard, is your notable Gallant, and he that can passe away cleare without paying the Host in the Chimney-Corner, he is the king of Cannes, and the Emperour of Alehouses, this fellow tying his Horse by the Bridle vpon the red Lattis of the window, could not bridle himselfe so well, but afterward proued more Beast then his Horse, being so ouerwhelmed with whole Cans, hoopes, and such drunken deuices, that his English Crowne weighed lighter by ten graines at his comming forth, then at his entering in: and it was easier now for his Horse to get vp a Top of Powles, then he to get vp vpon his Horse, the stirrup plaide mock-holy-day with him, and made a foole of his foote: at last with much adoe he fell flounce into the Saddle, and away he scudded out at townes end, where he thought euery Tree he saw had bene rising vp to stop him: so strangly are the sences of drunkards tost and transported, that at the very instant, they thinke the worlds drownd againe; so this staggering Monster imagined he was riding vppon a Sea-mare: but before he was Tenne Gallops from the towne-side, his briane plaide him a Iades trick, and kickt him ouer[?], downe he fell. When the Horse sóberer then the maister stood still and wonderd at him for a Beast; but durst not say so much; by and by Passingers passing too and fro, beholding his lamentable downefall, cald [Page] out to one another to view that pittifull Spectacle, people flockt about him more and more, but none durst venture within two Poles length, nor some within the length of Powles: euery one gaue vp his verdit, and all concluding in one that he was some coward Londoner, who thought to fly from the sicknes, which as it séemed, made after him amayne, and strucke him beside his borfe: thus all agréed in one tale, some bemoning the the death of the man, othersome, wishing that all Curmudgins, Pennifathers, & fox▪ [...]urd [...]rers were serued of the same sauce: who taking their flight out of London, left poore Silke-weauers, Tapsters, and Water-bearers, to fight it out against sore enemies. In a word, all the towne was in an vprore, the Constable standing aloofe off, stopping his Nose like a Gentleman-vsher, durst not come within two stones cast by no meanes: no, if he might presently haue bene made Constable in the hundred: Euery Townseman at his wise Non-plus, nothing but looking and wondering, yet some wiser then some, and those I thinke were the Watch-men, told them flatly and plainly, that the body must be remoued in any case, and that Eytempore: it would infect all the Ayre round about else. These horesons séemed to haue some wit y [...]t, and their politick counsell was tooke, and embra [...]st amongst them, but all the cunning was how to remoue him without taking the winde of him: wherevpon two or thrée weather wise Stinkards pluckt vp handfalls of Grasse, and tost them into the Ayre, and then whoopeing and hollowing, [...]old them the winde blewe swéetly for the purpose, for it stood full on his Back-part, then all agréed to remoue him with certaine long Instruments, sending home for hookes and strong Ropes, as if they had bene pulling downe a house of Fire: but this was rather a Tilt-boate cast away, and all the people drowned [Page] within: to conclude, these long deuices were brought to remoue him without a writ; when by meere chaunce past by one of the wisest of the towne next the Constable, for so it appeared afterwards, by the hornes of his deuice, who being certifesd of the storie, and what they went about to doe, brake into these words openly.
Why my good fellowes, friends and honest neighbours, trew you what you venture vppon, will you néeds drawe the plague to you, by hooke or by crooke, you will say perhaps your poles are long ynough. Why you neuer heard or read: that long deuices take soonest [...]tien, and that there is no vilder thing in the word, then the smell of a Rope to bring a man to his end, that you all know.
Wherfore to auoid al farther inconueni [...]nces, dangerous and infectious, hearken to my exployt: If you drag him along the fields, our hounds may take the sent of him, a very dangerous matter: if you burie him in the fields, a hundred to [...]ne but the ground will be rotten this winter; wherfore your onely way must be to set him lie as he doth, without mouing, and euery good fellowe to bring his Arme-full of straw, heape it vpon him, and round about him, and so in conclusion burne out the infection as he lies: euery man threw vp his old Cap at this, Straw was brought and throwne vpon him by Arme [...]ulls, all this while the drownd fellow lay still without mouing, dreaming of full cannes, E [...]psters, and Béere-barrells▪ when presently they put fire to the strawe, which kept such a brogging and a cracking, that vp▪ started the drunkard, like a thing made of fireworkes, the flame playing with his Nose, and his Beard looking like flaming Apolloes, as our Poets please to tearme it, who burst into these reeling words when he spied the fire hizzing about his pate.
What is the Top of Powles on fire againe? or is the [...]e a fire in the Powle-head? why then Drawers, quench me [Page] with double Béere. The folkes in the Towne all in amaze, some running this way, some that way, knew him at last by his staggering tongue, for he was no far dl [...]et, though they imagined he had dwelt at London, so stopping his Horse which ran away from the fierie Planet his Maister, as though the Diuell had bac [...]t him, euerie one laught at the Iest, closed it vp in an Alehouse, where before Cu [...]ing the most part of them were all as drunke as himselfe.
Sit you merrie still, Gentlemen Gallants, your Dish of Tales is your best chéere, and to please you my noble Bullies, I would doo that I did not this thirtie yeares, Caper, Caper, my Gallant Boyes, although I cracke my Shins, and my Guts sinke a handfull lower. Ile doote, my lustie Lad [...], Ile doote.
With that the Host gaue a lazie Caper, and broke his Shins for Ioye, the Reckoning was appeazed, the Roome discharged, and so I leaue them in Powles where I founde them.
And now I returne to more pleasant Arguments, Gentlemen Gallants, to make you laugh ere you be quite out of your Capen: this that I discourse of now is a prettie merrie accident that happened about Shoreditch, although the intent was sad and Tragicall, yet the euent was mirthfull and pleasant: The goodman (or rather as I may fi [...]liet tearme him, the bad-man of a House) being sorely pesterd with the death of seruants, and to auoyde all suspition of the Pestilence from his house aboue all others, did very craf [...]ily and subtilly compound with the Maisters of the Pestcart, to s [...]ch away by night as they past by, all that should [Page] chance to die in his house, hauing thrée or soure seruants downe at once, and told them that he knew one of them would be readie for them by that time the Cart came by, and to cleare his house of all suspition, the dead body should be [...] laide vpon as [...]all, some fiue or fire houses of: where, there they should entertaine him and take him in amongst his dead companions: To conclude, night drewe on-ward, and the seruant concluded his l [...]e, [...]d according to their appointment was e [...]stalde to be made knight of the Pestcart. But here comes in the excellent [...]elt, Gentlemen▪ Gallants of fiue and twentie, about the darke and pitt [...] season of the night: a sh [...]acke drunkard, (or one drunke at the signe of the Ship,) new cast from the shore of an Alehouse, and his braines sore beaten with the cruell tempests of Ale and Béere, fell Flounce v [...]on a lowe stall hard by the house, there being little difference in the Carcasse, for the other was dead, and he was dead-drunke, (the worse death of the [...]waine) there taking v [...] his drunken Lodging, and the Pest-cart comming by, they made no more ad [...], but taking him sa [...] the dead Bodie, placed him amongst his companions, and away they [...]rred with him to the Pest-house: but there is an [...] Prouerbs, and now confirmed true, a Druncken ma [...] neuer takes harme: to the Appre [...]ation of which, for all his lying with infections Be dfellow [...], the next morning a little before he should be burie [...], he streaht and yaw [...] as wholesomely, as the best Tinker in all Banburie, and returned to his olde Vomit againe, and was drunck [...] in Shoreditch before [...].
This was a prettie Commedie of Errors, my round Host.
O my Bullies, there was many such a part plaide vppon the Stage both of the Cittie and the Sub [...]urbs.
Moreouer my Gallants, some did noble Exployts, whose names I shame to publish, in hiring Porters and base [...]ssalles to carrie their seruants out in Sackes so White-chappell, and such out places to poore mens houses: that worke to them, and therefore durst doe no otherwise but receiue them, though to their vttee ruines, and detestable noysomn [...]e, fearing to displease them for their [...]uenge afterwardes, as in putting their worke from them to others for their vtter vndoing: how many such prankes thinke you haue béene playne in the same fashion onely to entertaine Customers, to kéepe their shops open, and the Foreheads of their doores from (Lord haue mercy vpon vs) many I could set downe héere and publish them to the world, together with all their strange shiftes, and vncharitable deuices.
Whereof one especially, notable and politicke may euen leade you to the rest and driue you into Imagination of many the like: for one to burie foure or fiue persons out of his house, and yet neither the Sexton of the same Parish, nor any else of his Neighbours in the stréete where hee dwelles in to haue intelligence of it, (but [Page] all thinges be they neuer so l [...]king, breake sorth at the last) this being the cunning and close practise; politickly to indent with the Sexton of some other Church (as dwelling in one Parish) to fée the Sexton of another by a prelie péece of Siluer, to burie all that die in the same house in his Churchyard, which voide all suspition of the Plague from his shop, which may be at the least some sixe or seuen Parish Churches off; or at another to practise the like; nothing but compounding with a rauenous Sexton that liues vpon dead Carcasses, for no Trades were so much in vse as Coffinmakers and Sextons, they were the Lawers the last Uacation, and bad there bountifull Fées of their Graue-clients; wherefore they prayed as the Countrie-folkes at Hartford did, (If report be no lyar) very impiously and barbarously, that the sickenesse might last till the last Christmas; and this was their vncharitable meanings, and the vnchristian effect of their wishes: that they might haue the Tearme kept at Hartford, and the Sextons there Tearme still here in London; but Winchester made a Goose of Hartford, and ended the strife: Thus like Monsters of Nature they wisht in their Barbarous hearts, that their desires might take such effects: and for the gréedy Lucre of a fewe priuate and meane persons, to sucke vp the life of thousands.
Many other maruelious euents happened, both in the Citty, & else where. As for example, In dead mans place at Saint Mary-ouerus; a man seruant bring buried at seuen of the clocke in the morning, and the graue standing open for more dead Commodities, at foure of the clocke in the same euening, he was got vp aliue againe by strange miracle: which to be true and certaine, hundreds of people can [...] that saw him act like a country Ghost in his white [Page] peackled Shéete. And it was not a thing vnknowne on the other side, that the Countries were striken, and that very grieuously, many dying there: many going thither likewise fell downe suddainly and dyed, men on Horsebacke riding thither, strangely striken in the midst of ther iourneys, sorcst eyther to light [...]ff, or fall [...]ff, and dye: and for certain and substantiall report, many the last yeare were buried neare vnto hye-waies in the same order, in their cloaths as they were, booted and spurd [...] euen as they lighted off, [...]owld into Ditches. Pits and Hedges so lamentably, so rudely, and vnchristianlike, that it would haue made a pittifull, and remorcefull eye blood-shot, to see such a r [...]thfull and disordered Obiect: and a true heart bléed outright, (but not such a one as mine, Gallants, for my heart b [...]eds nothing but Alegant,) how commonly we saw herr, the husband and the wife buried together, a wéeping Spectacle containing much sorrow: how often were whole housholds emptied to fill vp Graues? and how sore the violence of that stroake was, that strooke tenne persons out of one house, being a thing dreadfull to apprehend and thinke vpon; with many maruellous and strange Accidents. But let not this make you sad, Gallants: sit you merry stil: Here my dainty Bullyes, Ile put you all in one Goblet, and wash all these Tales in a Cup of Sack.