How Master Peter deceived the Divell with a Candles end.

AT the first entrance of M. Peter into the Art of Magick, by charms, spels, and incantations, he raised a Spirit, and with the Spirit concluded, that if he would be obedient to him, serve, help, and further hime at such times, and in such things as he should command, his soul should be his reward. This Fire-Brand of Hell (with great sign of rejoycing) yeelded and ser­ved him him (as his slave or vassale) with very great diligence in many matters and imployments. When this officious servant thought he had béen at his command long enough (for no terme or time was set at the contract) he demanded his commanders soule, as the reward of his pains. Why, (said Master Peter) [Page] I have made thee a promise thou shouldst have it, and thou shalt have it, but not yet: when it hath left my body (by my death) take it to thée, till then thou mayest not have it, so rest thée contented. The Spirit began to threaten, and terrifie him to make him set a time of payment for his pleasure: and so affrighted him, that he knew not what or how to answer him. Come (quoth y ^e Divel) be briefe, for Lucifer every minute looks for that soule of thine. Is there no remedy (quoth Master Peter) wilt thou allow me no time to set my business in order, and take my leave of my friends ere I go? allow me some small time for that, and do thy will. Why how long time (qd. the Divell? desirest thou I should allow thee? why I faith (quoth Master Peter no long time: spare me but till this inch-long end of candle (pointing to the candle burning in his study) and take my soule. Well (quoth the Divell) though by my charge I can hardly stay a minute, Ile stay so long: about it presently. If I neglect or oreslip my time (qd. Master Peter) take thou the advantage of it: yet one request more thou must grant me. What is that (qd. y ^e Divel) marry this (qd, Master Pater) to confirm thy promise with an oath: I am very loth to trust thée on thy bare word, for all the world reputes thée but a knave: there­fore come swear to forbear me till this candle is burned. By hell I will (quoth the Divel) and by great Lucifer, as I hope to draw down thousand souls to the déep Abisse (the place of my abode) I will forbear thée till this candle is burned. Then Master Peter, presently after his hellish protisttation, put y ^e canle out, and into his pocket: look here (quoth he) till this is burnt, thou maye [...]t not claime my soule: Ile kéep this safe enough. Goe I command thée, and tell thy proud Lord Lucifer, how finely I have over­reached thée.

When the Divel saw he was so cunningly deceived by Master Peter, with many bitter execrations he left him.

How Master Peter deceived the Divel again.

NOt long after the Divel had béen deceived by the merry Divel Waster Peter Fabel, he went again to him, and find­ing him a sléep took the end of the candle (before spoken of) out of his pocket, and awaked him: when he had so done, he shewed him the end of his candle.

Look here (said he) here is this that thou keptst to kéep me from my right (thy soule I mean) when this is burnt, thy soule must burn with mine: Ile quickly burn it now Ile warrant thée.

When Master Peter saw he had lost his candle (upon the loss of which lay the losse of his soul, if his policy had not helped him out) he intreated him to spare him a little longer.

No, no (said the Divel) all intreats are vain, thou hast decei­ved me once, thou shalt deceive me no more. Tis a good world when men are so cunning in deceit, as to deceive the Divel: but it is no matter, thou art so much the readier for me.

Yet here me speak (quoth Master Peter) as thou likest my spéech so deale with me.

Well, be brief then (quoth the Divell) what hast thou now to say?

No more but this (qd. Master Peter) if thou wilt spare till my timely death put that thou séekest into thy hands, Ile labour all the time I have to live for hells advantage: Ile bear more soules along with me to hell then twenty of your cunning Divels shall.

Shall I once more trust thée (quoth the Divel) on thy word? well, swear, why (said Master Peter) by the black river Lu­cifer thy Lord swears by I swear I will: and when I am buri­ed, either within the Church, without the Church, in the Church-porch, Church-yard stréet, field, or high way take thou my soule.

Well (qd, the Divel) in hope thou wilt gain me many soules to thine, take thy rest, and so he left him.

Many years after, when Master Peter Fabel by his whte hairs weaknesse, aches, and such like signs, perceived he could not live long: he went and digd his deathbed in the Churchwall, and there rested day and night heartily praying & repenting him of all the evell he had committed.

When the hour was well nigh come, that should separate his soule and body, the Divell went to him again and blam [...]d him for neglecting his businesse by promise, and withal told him y ^t he wa [...] come for his soule. Wh [...]n Mr. Peter heard that word he pre­sently started up, and charged him to depart, my soul (said he) y ^u comest too soon▪ and yet too late to have it, he that redéemed my soul hath took't to kéep, thou canst not have it.

Didst thou not swear qd. the Fiend, that I should have [...] [Page] soule at the hower of death? thou didst, and I will have it. I (said M [...]ster Peter) when I am buried either within the Church, without the Church, in the Church-porch, Church-yard, stréet, field, or high way, take thou my soule.

Sée foolish fiend thou art deceived again, this hole is my grave, if this be either within the Church, without the Church, in the Church-porch, Church-yard, stréet, field, or high-way, my soule is thine: thou séest it is not, therefore I charge thée (so deceived) depart. Still the Divell was eager on him for his soule till at last by his earnest prayers and zealous Invocations, he for'st him to run ro [...]ring to hell again wthout it.

How Master Peter Fabell punished a Fryer and his Lemon for their knavery.

MAster Peter Fabell one morning very early, walking in the fields (as his custome was, to meditate by himself) spied a Fryer at prayers upon his beads very devoutly: when Mr. Pe­ter saw him so earnest in his prayers, he went to him, & demand­ed him what his reason was, that his chamber would not serve for his prayers, as well as that place. Oh! Sir (said the Frier) all places are alike to me for this businesse, and all times, for I pray when the prick of conscience comes upon me, in what place, or at what time soever. I commend thée much (qd Master Peter) thou art an honest fellow, and so for that time they parted.

The next morning Master Peter went again: and again found the Fryer in the place where he left him y ^t morning before, so de­voutly praying, but not at the holy exercise, y ^e spirit did not move him unlesse the evill spirit moved him, for instead of his book and beads, he had got a wench and sat colling her so close, and kissing her so thick, kisse upon kisse, that she could hardly fetch her wind for him. A good while stood Master Peter behind a hollow trée un­séen, séeing them trick and toy together, at last to fright them from their venery, he went into the trée, and with a heavy hollow voice, cryed out to the Frier in this manner: Frier, Frier, Frier, the Frier hearing a voice, presently started up, & looked round a­bout him to sée if he could find the Master of that tongue that ca­led him: but in vain he stood looking, for he stood farre enough from his eye, though he were close to his ear. When the Frier had stood a good while looking about him, first on the one [Page] side, then on the other, and could spy no body, like a kind lecherous bald-pats, very hansomely, or rather very knavishly, he went to his wench again. He was no sooner laid down, but M [...]ster Peter the second time cryed out (to disturbe him) Frier, Frier, Frier. At the second call the Frer halfe affrighted started up againe, and lookt about him (a tip toe) to sée if he could finde a body to that voice but he found none.

Now our Lady defend us (quoth the Frier to his wench) what voice is this that calls me so oft? Didst thou not hear it? yes faith swéeting (quoth she) I heard some body call to thée: canst thou not sée him?

No faith chuck (quoth the Frier) I can sée no man: and yet surely this voice is the voice of a man. But it is no matter, let it be what it will if we cannot sée it, sure we cannot féele it. Come chuck let's buss and be merry, be of good comfort and cross thy self, & I warrant thée safe for a farthing, down lay old bald-pate again: but before he could give her three kisses, the voice raised him the third time, crying as before, Frier, Frier, Frier. Th [...]n the Friers face began to bewray his fear: he had no more colour in his face at that time, (though at all other times he had colour enough) then one of these fine whay-fac'd Oate-meale eaters, or a wench troubled with the gréen sicknesse.

Frier, Frier, Frier, (said Master Peter) (still kéeping him­self close in the hollow trée) he that sées thée now, unséen of thée, sées at all times, in all places, and all these thy actions.

Here yesterday I saw thée at thy prayers very devoutly, with thy book and heads, is this the book thou bringest to pray on now? doth the prick of conscience move thée to do this? speak thou black sinner. There thou hast red thy damnation without present repentance and penance. Therefore presently both of you if you respect more y ^e good of your souls, then of your bodies, by the pen­nance I shall appoint you purge your selves: when the Frier & his wench heard these words, they were verily perswaded in their minds that it was the voice of an Angel, they both knéeled down very reverently together, and said▪ thy will be done: appoint our pennance, and we are ready (wi [...]h all willingnesse) to endure it. Then (said Master Peter) you both shall presently be whipt from this place (the place where you offended) into the Town and a­bout [Page] the Town. This suffer & desire you to be done by the next man comes néer you, and this sin is forgiven you, refuse this and desparing dye dam'd wretches.

This or what else it shall please thée to inflict or lay upon us, for this sinne (quoth the Frier) we will patiently suffer.

Then Master Peter presently stept out of the hollow trée, and went (very cunningly) round about the back side of a hedge, and came directly upon them, as if he had meant to passe by them.

As soon as ever they saw him, they verily humbly on their knées told him how that in a place they had offended, and for that offence they were by the voyce of an Angell, commanded to take present pennance, or their souls could not be sav'd.

And what (said master Peter) is the pennance ommanded.

Marry this (said the Frier,) to be whipt by the next man came néer us, from this place (the place where we offended) to the town, and about the town, and this sin should be forgiven us. If we refuse this (this was our heavy sentence) to live in dispair and die dam'd wretches.

This therefore is our request sir (you being the man by y ^e An­gell appointed) that you would perform your part appointed, while we (very patiently) bear the reward of our wickednesse.

Well (qd. Master Peter) though I am loath to plea the Beadle, Ile do thy request, you shall not be damd for want of a whipping.

To be short, Master Peter tyed the right hand of the Frier, and the left hand of his wench together, and having so done (with a sound smarting rod of willow) Ierkt them to the Town before him.

There in the view of all the people, he lasht them from one end of the Town to the other, telling them at every second or third stripe of the hainousnesse of their fault. When he had thus sound­ly whipt, the lecherous bald-pate, and his Lemman, with most pitti [...]ull bloody backs, he left them, and loosing their hands, he ga [...]e the Frier this caveat.

And so farewell, I have done your request, if at any time you have occasion to use me, in such a piece of service, command me. [Page] Away went he very hartily laughing, and the Frier and his wench very heavily wéeping.

How Smug won a wager of Master Peter Fabell by a trick that he did.

AS on a day Master Peter Fabell, (an excellent Schollar and well séen in the Art of Magick) was conferring with certain of his friends about certain business and imployments, Smug being in the hearing of them, betwéen drunk and sober (for he had béen plying the Pitcher in Master Peters sellar) ran nodding in amongst them; and the very first word he spake to them was how do you my Masters. They being in very serious talke, un­willing to be disturbed with his foolish babling, with very faire words, requested him to leave them a little, and within halfe an houre (or such a thing) they would give him the hearing of that which he had to say to them. But he like an importunate begger then he would not leave them till he had spoke his mind to Mr. Peter.

When they saw there was no remedy, but he would have his will, come (said Master Peter) honest Oliver be briefe, utter thy ignorance roundly, what hast thou to say to me mow? Marry qd. Smug, Master Peter, I hear say you are a very cunning Gentle­man, and that you have done as many fine tricks & feats in your time as ere a Iugler in Europe has done, what will you say now if a plain fellow, a hard-handed labourer, a poore leatherne-apron­wearer, do such a cunning trick, as you Master Peter, with the helpe of all your great gogle-eyde, bottle-nos▪d, blobber-lipt, blad­der-chéekt, béetle-browed, ex-headed detestable Divels cannot do the like. Why ho [...]est Smug quoth Master Peter, who or where is he that will do this? Marry (qd. Smug) I am he. Art thou he quoth Master P [...]ter? Who would think thou hadst such tricks in thy budget? Pr [...]tée Smug tell me, dost not thou (as thou sayest I doe) u [...]e the helpe of some infernall? hast thou no Divell in thy trick? come tell me: Divell quoth Smug, marry God blesse me Master Peter, I cannot indure to look upon those filthy foule-mouthed fire-spitters, no Master Peter. What I do I will doe of my extraordinary wit and invention. Well lets hear quoth Mr. Peter, wh [...]t is it you will do? Marry this Ile doe quoth Smug, [Page] Ile set a candle burning in the midst of this roome where we all are, open and easie to be séen as my han [...]: this [...] M, Togood shall see, Master Dauby, Master Dauty, Mistris Friskin, and my man Ralph, here yet you shall not sée it, masse Smug (qd. Master Peter) if thou canst do such a [...]ck, th [...] put'st me down indéed. Come begin, let us sée it done nay first (quoth Smug) let as have a lay upon it, I will not shew my skill for nothing. Agréed (quoth Master Peter, what shall the [...]ager be? why [...]ith (quoth Smug) Master Peter you know my mind, for that I lo [...]e all [...]ies when I make a wager, rather to have it in [...] [...]en dry, for you know Master Peter I am dry my self, and ye say the word, the wa­ger shall be a dozen of double Ale, you know I am merry Smug, and merry Smug must have his merry goe down, or else he is no body. Well I agrée (qd. Master Peter) here is my hand, if thou perform what thou hast said, Ile loose, and Ile pay it. Then Smug cal'd for a candle and candlestick, which when he had placed M. Peter in the middle of the roome, and set the candlestick with the candle burning upon his head: now M. Peter said he doe you sée this candle: why no (qd. M. Peter) how should I sée it? is it pos­sible for a man to sée the crown of his head? you cannot sée it then quoth Smug, no I cannot sée it said he.

Then Smug demanded of the rest, before named, whether they did fee it or no, they all answered I, asking how they should chuse but see it, and yet you cannot see it, they say they cannot chuse but see, and yet you say it is impossible for you to see it.

Come Mr. Peter, you know what you have lost? if there had been a Kingdom laid on it, when Mr. Peter saw how pret­tily Smug had overreached him, he smiling sent for his losses, and in pastime made Smug take his well won liquor so soundly, that he lay by the walls that night.

How Smug when he was made drunk, would needs go to fight with the shadow of a sword and Buckler.

SMug one day being angred among a company of true drunk­ard [...] like himself, came chasing out of the Alehouse, like a mad man, as you know drunkards and mad men are not much unlike, vowing to be revenged, or he would never drink draught of [Page] good drink again, as long as he had a day to live, & so chasing réel­ing homeward, as fast as his legs would give him leave.

This réeling infirmity threw poor Smug from post to post, and from wall to wall, here he knockt his face against one stock, there against another, till half the wild blood in his body was run out at his nose.

Still on he [...]aggered, till he came to a seat neer his home under a sign of the sword and buckler: where he sate a while to rest him, and as he sate like an honest man carefull to kéep both ends to­gether, cast vp, as néere as he could without either [...]en or coun­ters, what he had received in the day before.

But all his casting could not cast the remembrance of his quar­rell out of his mind: for still be sate railing against his [...]ot-com­panions most grievously, calling [...]hem Scound [...]els, scabs, slaves, Knaves, and perpetually damb'd or drunken Rogues.

As he sat thus, fretting and chasing vowing to be revenged, spyed, as he shought the instruments of revenge lying before him: for it was a faire Moon-shine night, and the shadow of the s [...]e he safe under, séem to him to [...]e no losse then that it came off, the very sword and buckler that h [...]ng over his head, unséen or un­thought off.

Now you Rogues and Raggamuffins (qd. Smug) Ile tickle y'faith, Ile [...]'ne make no more adde but take up my tooles and to them again, by Pharaoh, by thi [...] Sunne that shines saies he (and looked up to the M [...]n) Ile kill them all, though every one of them had as many lives as a Cat: presently keeping to take up his sup­posed sword and buckler, he fell flat on the ground (for his head was so h [...]avy, that when he ad put it downwards, he could not raise it up again for his life.) There lay he sprawling and grope­ing about to get his sword and buckler into his hands, so long that he fell [...]st a [...], and waked not till morning, he was fetch­ed home by a couple of his honest neighbours.

How Smug laid a wager with certaine Shoomakers that he was a Shoomaker, proved it, and wone the wager.

THrée or foure honest good fellows of the gentle craft, travel­ling together with Sir HUGHES bones at their backs to get work, passing through EDMONTON, went to an Ale-house the next doore to Oliver Smugs, to drink, where when they had sit­ten a quarter of an houre, or there abouts, drinking healths, very kindly and courteously, one to another, and to all good fellows of their crafts and acquaintance, to make themselves merry, they sung a song in thrée parts very orderly and well.

Smu [...] (as he was at his work) hearing them sing so merrily, presently left his work and went to them again, bearing in either hand a full can of the best liquor.

Here my old Lads of mettle (quoth he) here's to you, and to all good fellow Shoomakers in Europe, of which number (for want of a better) I my self make one.

Why sir (quoth one of them) are you one of the gentle craft? faith quoth Smug I am as I tell you, and honest good fellow, and a Shoo-maker, and for the love I bear to all kind Shooe-makers, I have made thus bold to come and drink with you.

They all very courteously welcomed him into their company, and made him [...]it down amongst them.

When they had sitten a good while together drinking & sing­ing very merrily, one being a mad wag amongst them (above all the rest) suspecting Smug to be (as he was indéed) a Smith; look­ed very earnestly upon him, and about him to finde something a­bout him that might truly tell him whether he was as he said he was yea or no.

At last prying very narrowly, he spyed his hammer hanging underneath his Apron, in a great round brasse ring.

Then halfe angry with Smug, because he told him he was a Shoomaker and was not, he began to jest, slout and scoffe at him, shewing to the rest of his fellowes and companions the hammer that hung under his apron.

Why (said another of them) my honest friend, came you he­ther to slout us? wherefore have you told us you are that you are [Page] not? Why (quoth Smug) what did I tell you I was? why (quoth he) you did tell us you were as we are, a Shoomaker I did indéed (quoth Smug) I told you so, and again I tell you so, and will make good my word upon a wager with the best of you all, agréed (quoth one) what shall the wager be?

Why yfaith (quoth Smug) I think you doe intend to travell no farther then this town to night, and you say the word, the wager shall be a shot of sixe shillings to be spent in shear drink: what say you sirs, are you contented with it? if you be, strike hands and a match.

A match said they) I know said one of them you are a Towns­man, and therefore we shall not need to go far for a touch-stone to try you.

Presently came a Serving-man into the Ale-house to Smug, and desired him for Gods sake to give over his drinking and to go to work, for his Masters Horse staid for shooes: what doe you now think my Masters (quoth Smug) you sée I now am sent for, and must go presently to put on a paire of shooes, will you yeild you have lost? why look you here then my bullies, here's a shooe, pulling a Horseshooe out of his pocket, of his own making, what say you now? am I a Shooe-maker yea or no? A Shoo-maker (qd. one of them) here is a shooe in deed but it is a Horseshooe, nay (qd. Smug) Ile prove it to be shooe & no Horse shooe, for I made it for Mosse his Mare of Endfield, but be it mares or Horses shooe a shoo it is, & I the maker, Ergo I am a Shoomaker because I made it.

Therefore come, deliver your purses of a five shillings péece, or so many small pieces as amounts to so much, & let us stand close to our liquor for I think long till I fée it.

The Shoomakers for all this would not yéeld they had lost, but would néeds have him into the Town for further tryall: But all gave judgement on Smugs side, that he was a Shooemaker, & had wone the wager. Then the shoomakers when they saw there was no remedy, turned back with Smug to their old hostesse, and paid their losses, with the losse of their wits for that night.

How merrily Smug answered one that gave him good counsell.

SMug one day being set in the midst of his merry [...] swag­gerting and swilling very quick in c [...]r [...]ling & [...]lling in for [Page] more as if he had Fortunatus his purse in his pocket, was by an honest well governed man, that sate by, (and noted his humour) sharply reproved, and after reprehension, kindl yadmonisht him with these ensuing verses,

And so fell to his liquor again, till (contrary to his merry an­swer) it made his quick wit grow duller: for within one half hour or more, he had not one wise word to spare, though he might have had a Kings ransome for it.

How Smug was frighted by the Nuns of Chestone, thinking them to be Spirits, and how after­ward he frighted them by his sud­dain appearance.

SMug on a time, as he was stealing Venison, hearing the Kée­per in the Park, got up into a trée, to kéep out of sight till he were past by him which he did: scaping the Kéepers eye, and so consequently his hand, very hansomely. But sitting there a little while, prying and péeping betwéen the branches (like an O [...]le in an I [...]y bush) to sée, if the coast were cleare, he spied the Mother Nun of Chestone, with thrée or foure young ones (attired in white long robes, with railes and ti [...]its, as they used to weare) coming towards him with a little bell rung before them, sprink­ling holy-water, and praying upon their beads very devoutly: [Page] withall the circumstances of that ceremony they used when they received a sister into that holy order.

The very sight of these holy creatures, made Smug quiver, quake and shake like the leaves of the trée he sate upon, for he thought verily that they had been Spirits Furies, Fiends, or Hob­goblins, that came thither a purpose to carry him away for steal­ing of [...] but they (poor souls) ment no more harm to him, then [...]e to them, but past by, not casting so much as a look upon him.

When they were p [...]st him, his heart (that till then was as hea­vy us a [...] [...]aind spittle-mans) was as light as a Mor­ [...]is Dancers: And very lightly from knot to knot) got he from the top of the trée, thinking to have runne to his fellows that stayed for him: but by that time he was gotten from the bowes to the root, the Ni [...] was turned back again upon him.

When he saw there was no way to get from them, suddainly he stept right before them and upon his knées with a [...]retcht throat (like an [...] bawling Broom-man) desired them for Gods sake not to hurt him, and he would never walk so late a Déer-stealing again while he lived and still he yawled and bawled (with his hands claspt together in very pittifull manner, as though he would have rent his wind-pipe.

The good old Nun, so suddenly encountred, by such a roaring raggamuffin, knew not what to do, but ran as f [...]st from him as ere she could and all her young ones after the Dam, she run not so fast one way to leave him, but he run as fast another way to leave her, and to find out his fellows. When he had found them, he told them (in boasting manner, how he met with a company of Spirits in the Park, and they durst not abide the sight of him. Therefore be of good chear my Masters (said be) if spirits be af­fraid to look upon me, and run so fast from me, I hope the sneak­ing Kéeper dares not abide my fury, and so they past on againe to their thieving pastime.

How Smug presuming upon his courage, after his exploit, (frighting these supposed sp [...]rits) would needs go the next evening again a Deere-stealing: and how deare [...] he paid for it.

THe next evening Smug and his fellows went again a Déer­stealing, but it was a dear Déerstealing to him & the rest of his companions for they has not béen in the Pack above a quarter of an houre privily peaking about for their prey, but they spyed the Kéeper well weaponed with his great mastive dog at his héeles. Now out alas said the Par [...]on, what shall we do my Masters? what shall we do? g [...] Banks as thou art an honest Miller, and wouldest have me pray for the forgivenesse of toledish sinne, tell me what I shall doe.

Why alas good Sir Iohn (quoth the Miller) what should I tel you, I know neither what to do nor say for my selfe? what say­est thou Smug, thou séest we are all in danger: I prethée good Oliver, as thou lovest a good fellow, and good fellowship, as thou lovest that, thou knowest we all love good liquor, give us some good counsell, and good Smug be brief, for thou séest our destru­ction is at hand.

Why alas my Masters said Smug, what would you have me to do? by Vulcan I protest, I know not what to say to you: I would I were at my Forge, you good Sir John, a sleep in the bellfrey, and Banks in his Mill, or I would we were all there, that we might be as safe as a thief in a Mill.

As they stood there prating and talking the one to the other, they saw the Keeper coming directly towards them: Oh now Sumg (qd. Sir [...]ohn) stick to us all my trust is in thée, I prethée Smug shew thy self as valiant now against this Keeper, as thou didst a [...]ainst the Spirits and Hobgoblins thou mettest here the other night.

If thou beest remembred thou gavest us words of comfort then and didst did us all be of good cheere and fear nothing, for thou saidst thou wouldst make the sneaking Keeper sly from thee, as fast as thou madest them slie. Now honest Oliver, be as good as thy word, make them fly & defend us, & I even I, Sir John your mad merry Parson, will pray to God for thy health and welfare, [Page] as long as I have a day to drink in: Why content you sit Iohn (said Smug) Ile sée what I can do, go you two and lye close be­hind that hedge: It I have but as good luck against this scurvy Kéeper this night, as I had against my little long-taild Hobgob­lins y ^e last night, wéel no leave the Park, without that we came for. They (as smug told them) went behind the hedge & left him alone to deale with the Kéeper: but alas for all his big looks, and [...]aving worde [...] the Kéeper thwackt him so soundly, that he made him lye sp [...]a [...]ling on the ground, and so left him.

When the Miller and the Parson (pée ping through the hedge) saw the Kéeper gone, & póor Smug lye in such a pittiful case, they went to him, now alas poore Smug (said Sir Iohn) how ist? what chear man? I perceive your [...]utious looks could not fright away the Kéeper, as if did the Spirits you told us of.

Oh sir Iohn (said Smug) this Kéeper is a Divell, he hath paid me yfaith, & yet all these blows grieve me not so much sir Iohn, as that you and my neighbour Miller did not stay to take part with me, for you would have had your [...]hare in the Venison as déep as I and I had thought he had béen wo [...]fe to denie withall then Spirits, the Divell should have dealt with him ere I would have come into his [...]ches.

Smug had no [...] spoke this word, but the Keeper was upon them again, and mightily imaged against them all, gave the Mil­ler and the Parson as much as he had given Smug, and sent them all halting home together.

How Smug, was revenged upon a Barber, (his Rivall) that made him kisse his taile.

AS honest Smug loved (as he lo [...]ed his life) the society of his bearded a [...] defated, so in like manner, loved he sometime to be mad merry, amongst a mad company of his bare-chind boone companions, his little wanton Wagtailes: his swéet and twen­ties: his pretty pinckinyed pigmies, &c. as he himself used com­monly to call them.

Amongst all the kind Lasses he used to kéep company withall, one (above all) he best loved, & by that one whom he lov'd (above all) he was least loved: for fine Philip the Bather had so laboured [Page] in trimming his best beloved Barbara (for so she was called) that he when he came to her was as welcome as water in a Ship bad news to a sore grieved person or the shadow of a man to the long­ing Mistris, of a long kept Maiden-head.

To be short, one evening Smug went to sée his swéet Barbara, but when he was come where he thought to have béen very kind­ly welcome, to the house of his best beloved, to his great griefe he found the doors locked, bard, or bolted against him: she he lookt for look'd not for him, nor any other at that time: For the (as a­ny kind whore will be) was content with one at once, and one she had: The Divell had put the Barber and she together, and she was very loath that any man should put them asunder. A good while Smug stood knocking, but no body would stir to let him in, then he went to the window, and there he kept a whewing, and a whistling to raise her, but all would not do: Then he fell to knoc­king with his knuckles against the casement, and last raised the Barber out of Barbaras bed, not in his own likenesse, but in y ^e like­nesse of Barbara his best beloved: for the Barber like a subtile knave slipt on his bedfellows peticote, night-raile, and head-tire which became his hair-less face, as wel as hers it was made for, & so went to y ^e window in Barbaras apparel, he spake Barbaras voice as néere as he could, and past as currantly with Smug in confe­rence, as could be wisht. After many loving words, Smug desired he might have a kisse ere he parted, for the Barber (for Barbara had told him he might by no means be let in at that time.

This kind he-she very lovingly yéelds. I prethée swéet Smug (qd. this fine counterfeit) com buss me through this broken pane, that I will, yfaith (qd. Smug) with a good will as ere I came from schoole, or went to the Ale-house: then I prethèe Smug (qd. the Barber come smack me quickly that I may to be: again, and to morrow Ile meet thee where thou wilt appoint: why come sweet heart (quoth Smug) I am ready, and thrust his lips as far as he could thorow the broken paine, against Smugs lips, the Barber instead of his lips turned his AR. his lips I should have said: Smug smackt, & smackt that sweetly five or six times together ere he could tell what he kist. At last he perceived he was plaid the knave with all and by whom: yet in policy very pa­tiently put it up and with these words took his leave. Farewell [Page] swéet Barbara, for the kindnesse thou hast shown me at this time, for all thy former kindnesse and these swéet kisses, I rest by thée to thée to be commanded, whensoever, wheresoever, and in what­soever thou pleasest, and so swéet Barbara for a while God be with thée.

To bed went the Barber again, and Smug as fast as he could foot it homewards: as late as he was when he came whome, he found his folks hard at work, and a heate in the fire ready to be stricken out. Smug presently took the iron out of the fire (spark­ling hot) and ran as fast as he could back again to Barbaras win­dow, and there very hastily cald for his swéet Barbara: desiring her most hartily to let him have one kisse more, and he'd raise her no more that night: the Barber presently started up to the win­dow again, as he had done before, and (as he had done before) set his buttocks close to the broken paine, thinking that Smug, as he had done before would have [...]ist them: but instead of kissing, or puting his lips too, he put his hissing hot iron to him, and made him flie from the window as fast, as it the great Divell himself, and a dozen little ones had béen at his taile. Now (quoth Smug) my neat tremmer, I have trimmed you aboat the lips, as well as you have trimm'd me about the lips: as you like this, play y ^e knave with me another time, and so farewell good plaster-maker, hie thée home; and clap a plaister to it quickly, or thou't féele me when thou dost not sée me. When Smug had thus revenged himselfe upon his rivall he left him crying and fretting, and w [...]nt laugh­ing home againe roundly.

How Smug foxt the fellow that went to cornute him in the Fox-chamber.

TWo brothers (young gallants in Edmonton) who had often made themselves merry with Smugs company, had an equall desire to cornute or in plain terms, to cuckold honest Smug éene on y ^e night his weding night, not so much drawn to it by her beau­ty (for she was but a homely Smug Lasse) or any part or quality in her [...]s a desire they had to do him that wrongs and especially upon that night: privie strife was betwéen plotting and contri­ving the one to deceive and prevent the other; Vpon the weding [Page] day as opportunity served, the elder brother [...] the Bride into a corner, where he spent many perswasive words to wi [...] her to accord to his (as he called it) loving request man [...] of poore Smugs faults and imperfections he laid open, and withal his purse with very large proffers to draw her on the more easily: but all could not doe: She lik't never the worse of her [...]mug (whom she had taken for better for worse) for y ^e disprai [...] of him nor the better of him for all his large proffers: and therefore wild him, to give over his honest suite, and be packing: for she was not a Woman (howsoever she séemed in his eye) of y ^e unchast disposition. This & many such like answers she made him, as very willing to be rid of him but could not: for he (scorning to shew [...] [...]full blush) came upon her still, after her crosse answers with a fresh supply of smooth words, & left her not till be made her (with the appoint­ment of place and mi [...]te) make him promise th [...] he should have his desire, but alas that promise pa [...] not from her heart, for [...]he was of a setled conscience, that no means might move herineither profer, person, or any other ind [...]c [...]ment whatsoever, to prove false to her Oliver.

When he had thus received his answer, & was gone his youn­ger Brother privily set upon her to the same purpose, and with y ^e answer he had was sent away very pleasant, but his expected plea­sure was his pain in the end. For she as soon as they had left her, acquinted her Gr [...]m, or her Bridegroom with their purpose and to [...] that ten a clock was the hour, and the Foxe Cham­ber the place appointed, wishing him for y ^e night to lye there alone in her stead, ready to receive them or any of them. When Smug understanding the knavery that was practised against him, after two or thrée smacking kisses, and thanks for her kindness in tel­ling it, he began to talke to himself in this manner. A ha my little [...] Iinglespurs would you be nibling? would you yfaith Lads, Ile have a baite shall baite your boldnesse a little, Ile Foxe you yfaith come to the Fox-chamber as soon as you will.

To be short, a little before the time appointed, Smug got him to be [...] in the Fox-chamber, against they or one of them should come: about the hour appointed, both the Brothers met in the dancing room, or Hall, for they must passe through that to the Fox, prepa­red to perform their promises: but this unhappy méeting had al­most [Page] marred all, for neither of them durst enter into the others sight.

By and by, before a minute of the prefixed time was past, the younger slipt in whilst y ^e elder stood talking amongst the dancers and to bed he went. He was no sooner got into his Hostesse (as he thought) but Smug stept out, and with an old dry [...]oot that he had (laid ready for that purpose) so belaboured this young Mutton-munger in his shirt, that he had béen as good have had a sound whipping as that basting.

A ha quoth Smug, ile for you yfaith boy, doost thou think mine Host of the George had a Whore to his Wife? no thou lecherous Bab [...]n, Smug is better liked of in his frize or shéep-skin, by his own smug Lasse, then ere a spruce sléeked Gallant of you all.

Why I prethée good Smug (qd. the youngster) be contented, if I have made thée a fault, I will make thée amends: Nay alas (quoth Smug) tis no fault, I rather account my self, for the kind­nesse you should have shewn to me, in your debt, but Ile pay you ere you and I part, and about him he laid again: Then Smug made him slip on his clothes and beat him out of doores. When the elder Brother (who all the while he was as he thought) in the Fox chamber with Smugs Wife, saw how be was [...]uld by her, & basted by him, be smiled to himself to think how well be was re­warded for his forwardnesse, and how cleanly he himself had es­caped that scouring.

Why how now Brother (said he) whats the matter? hath your Bedfellow beat you? is she such a Divell? how chance you ple [...] ­sed her no better? please her (quoth he) the Divell please her and him too, they have pleased me a plague on them, but it would have pleased me better Brother, if you (as it was your desire this even­ing) had had my place.

Why Brother you may see (quoth the Elder) what it is to be so forward in séeking to deceive your Elders.

Well come Brother, lets go home and fléep honestly, for we sée whats got by tempting honesty, he has taught thée, and thou hast taught me to take héed how we enter i [...]to any such action a­gain. Then home they hied them hand in hand, one smiling and jesting, and they together fretting and chafing, cursing poore Smug and his Wife, and the Fox-chamber extreamly.

How Smug being drunk, lost his fellows in the Park, and how when they got together by whooping and hollowing, he took them for The [...]ves, and would by no means know them till he was soundly thwackt by them, and made to know his friends from his foes.

ANother time Smug was fetch'd out of the Ale-house by Sir John, the Miller, and mine host of the George, in such a case as it had béen fitter he should have gone to bed to sléep, then to y ^e Park a Déer-stealing, but drunk as he was they would have him along with them, for without him they were no body, he must néeds goe though he could hardly stand alone.

Well to the Park they got him with what great adoe, consider of the case he was in and imagine: when they were entred into the Park, and were ready to enter upon the businesse, they se­vered themselves every one to his appointed standing, with their weapons for that purpose, as Crosse-bows, Long-bowes, and staves.

Smug he was set (because he was not in case to take steddy aime) to watch that the Kéeper came not upon them before they were aware, but while they were close at their business, their cen­tinell (honest smug) forgetting both where he was, and also what charge he had taken in hand, went reeling down the Park, clean out of sight and hearing. When Sir John, the Miller, and the mad host had struck the stroke, and made them all glad men, and bound their prize up hansomely together, they went to fetch their continell, but when they came to the place where they set him, he was not to be found: body of me (qd. Sir John) what shall we do? kind neighbours and friends, what shall we doe? honest Smug with his head full of liquor is gone God knows whether, I pray Jove he be not fallen into some of these ditches, that I hope he is not (qd. mine Host) he was w [...]t [...]nugh before: why what a mad knave is this Smug (qd. the Miller) he is sure aslèep somewhere, faith then (qd. sir John) we were best give over séeking for him by the eye, and try what we can do by the voice. Then they fell to whoo [...]i [...] and hollowing as loud a [...] [...]hey could, [...]hat Smug might [Page] hear and answer them: a good while they went whooping and hol­lowing, but Smugs ears was two far off for th [...]ir voices to reach, they could by no means hear their answering hollow: the babling Eccho answered every whoope they made, but Smug not one. So long they walked whooping & hollowing up & down, that the dis­coverer of every bad action, the morning was ready to discover theirs, and yet Smugs hollow could not be heard. At last when they had given over hollowing and were going without him, they heard him whoop: bush (qd. sir John) I think I hear his voice: from whenc comes it? mass & I hear it too (qd. y ^t host) but from whence I know not why then (qd y ^t Miller) we were best by our hollow­ing to kéep him hollowing still, and so we shall come to him Ile warrant you. They did as the Miller counselled them, & within lesse then a quarter of an hour had sight of him.

When they were come néer together, sir Iohn (out of the love and good will we bear to Smug, [...]ept forward before his fellows, and with an out-stretched arm, and smiling countenance would have imbraced him. But Smug in his drunken humor (not know­ing him to be sir Iohn nor the Miller & mine Host that followed him, to be his old honest familias Copes-mates) took him such a knock ore the pate, that he made Mr. Parson stag [...]er like himself, though their causes were much unlike. Why how no [...] Smug (qd. y ^e fiery-fac'd Host) wilt thou fight with thy friends? Friends (qd. Smug) foot you rogues do you come rob me? Kéepe out, kéep out I advise you, and you meane to go home again to sée your Wife and Children (if you have any) kéek out, by Ph [...]raoh you all dye else. Why I pr [...]thy Smug (qd. the Miller) put down thy [...] ­pon, we are all thy friends: I prethée Smug (qd. mine Host) put thy staffe on thy shoulder, and let's go home together dost thou not know me? Come, give me thy hand. That I will (qd. Smug) There, & knoct him ore the pate with his staff; there's a hand for thée, & still stood striking at him, laying about him like a mad man. When they saw he would by no faire intreaty come to y ^e know­ledge of them, they all laid at him, & wel, & soundly basted his sides, & by that time they had thwaekt him soundly, indéed his wits wer come to him. Then he knew his friends from his foes, & desired them very kindly (every man by his name) to hold their hands, [Page] and very orderly and well helped his fellow thieves to beare [...]me their booty.

How Smug was deceived of his Red Cap by his Wife, and by that deceit forc'd to leave his swaggering Company, and go with her home to his labour.

AMongst divers Articles that were a reed upon betwixt Smug and his Wife, is be kept unviolated on either part, this was one:

That day that Smug ha [...] his red Cap on, (which Cap he call'd his Cap of Maintenance) he was like a Lord of Mis-rule, to have rule and dominion over his Wi [...]e, both at home and abroad: that day he had to spend at his own pleasure, to Card, Dice, Drinke, Drab, dominéer, and do all that i [...] pleased him to doe, without any interruption, or contradiction. But without that Cap he might do nothing, but what stood with her good will and liking.

If at any time he were gaming, drinking, domineering, &c. with­out this Cap of Authority, if his wife came into the place where he was and did but hold up her [...]inger, he was presently to give over his company, obey, and follow her home to his businesse.

One morning betimes, Smug was called from his work by a company of true Tosp [...]ts (like himself) to go a Fox-catching: Forth he went with his red Cap upon his head, swaggering and swearing, amongst his most abominable bóone Companions, like the Captain of a Gally-Foist.

First they tasted Liquor in one house, then in another, then another, and so from house to house, till they had not left an Ale­house in all Edmonton untasted.

At last, when their brains began to be dizzie, with running [...]o long in this maze of Good-fellowship, (as one evill leads to ano­ther) they went all as wise as Woodcocks to a house of Iniqui­tie, and there they drunk and swaggered helter skelter: And to make them leap the more lustily, they sent for a noise of Min­strels: and after that pittifull noise, the Treble and the Bag­pipe, they danced all out of measure. One while this creaking Musick would go créeping after them, like a tyred follower af­ter his leader, and another while it would run so fast before [Page] them, that they were fain to run more then a Lacquey pace to o­vertake it.

In y ^e midst of this merry pastime came Smugs Wife fretting & chasing into the Roome, to fetch him home, but [...]y no means he would give over his pastime, it was his day, and he would spend it at his pleasure.

When she saw he was so far in, that he could hardly be got out, she fell to intreating, desiring him very kindly to go along home with her: but the more she intreated, the more he stood against her.

Why thou confounding Cockatrice (said he) do [...]t thou not sée my Cap of Maintenance, my Scarlet coloured Cap? am not I to do my plea [...]ure, without check or controule, so long as this Cap is on my head? Away, beg [...]n, or by the life of Pharaoh Ile he humble thee: I tell thee, so long as this Cap is on my head, I will not be crost in mine humour.

Then she perceived it was but a folly to séek by intreaty to get him home, and yet she was very loth to leave him behind her in that disordered Company. A good while she stood musing with her selfe, what she were best to do to get him along with her: in vain she studied not, for her study begat a trick that effected her will, and that was this:

She took her man Ralphs Gray Cap from his head, and very handsomely, when she saw her Husband was [...]u [...]e in talk (and had lost the sense of his feeling) she took his Red Cap off, and put the Gray Cap on, in the stead of it. When she had so done, she plac'd her self right before him again, and held up her finger; for aske before said) at the holding up of her finger he was to fulfill her pleasure, his Red Cap being from him.

When Smug saw her finger up againe (little thinking of her subtiltie) he was very angry, and out of his anger said thus unto her: How darest thou presume to hold up thy finger, and sée this, (pointing to his Red Cap, as he thought?) Down with that finger, or Ile set down finger and body and all, by the life of Pharoah; now by broad-cheek'd [...]cchus, that sweet swilling God of Good fellows I will: shall I be crost in my humors? If my Red Cap were at home, and [...]here, I would obey thee: but being both here, I will not.

Why you are deceived (qd. [...]he) your Red Cap is not here, and therefore you must and shall along with me: look here, is this your Red Cap (said she?) and took it from his head to shew it him; I pray you look upon it well.

When Smug had looked well upon it himself, and had asked y ^e Miller and the merry Priests Iudgement of the colour of his Cap, and found it to be a Gray Cap he looked as pale as a poore respairing Debtor at the sight of a Sergeant, or his cut-throate Creditor, and presently yeelded, made a low leg, took his leave of his Company as handsomely as he could, and réeled home with his Wife very lovingly.

How Smug was taken by the Watch, and set in the stocks for abusing of them, and how he kept such a coyle with whooping and hollowing under a sick womans window, that the Constable was fain to set him at liberty, and glad to be so rid of him.

DRinke and good Fellows had kept Smug out so late one night, that the Watch, as he walked homewards, had him in examination, both where he had béen, and about what busi­nesse.

Smug half [...]u [...]el'd, or (as many term it) some what rugged, answered every demand very crossely: whereupon the Watch­men (as men in Authority will) taking it for a great presump­tion, that he should answer them so unhappily, grew very cho­lerick, and in their heat of anger struck him, and heaves him, and shoved him betwéen them, as they would have [...]ook him to [...]ters.

But, as [...]efore this rigorous usage, he could not well brooke their words, he could now well worse brook their [...]owes, and therefore resolved, as before he had given them one crosse word for another (I, and perhaps returned them with the vantage) séeing they were so ready to give blows, to give them blow for blow. So long he laid about him with his Mammer, (for that was his Morglay) that scarce two of halfe a dozen that began with him, would stay to make an end with him.

By and by came the Constable, with the bloudi [...] Runawayes, to bear Smug to the Stocks (which stood under the Constables Window) with much adoe they drag'd him to them, and with as much adoe got in his leg.

When they had thus set him fast, they left him, and every man return'd to his place againe.

Being thus left alone, he fell to singing, to passe away the time as merrily in the stocks, for once, as he had done in the Ale-house many a time and oft: He was as well furnished with odde pieces of b [...]dy Ballads, and drunken Catches, as a man of his professi­on might be: which he so roundly trould out as he sate, that the Constables Wife was faine to send down her Maid to desire him to sit quietly, and hold his tongue. Howe hold my tongue (said Smug) no: though Master Constable have a trick to force me to hold my legs still, he wants a trick to make me hold my tongue still.

But I prethée Wench, tell me from whence, or from whom comest thou, to bid me hold my tongue. Marry (said the Maid) I dwell here; you sit under the Chamber Window where my Mistris (who sent me) lyes very sick: How sick (quoth Smug) I prethée tell me Lasse, who is thy Mistris? Marry (quoth [...]he) the Constables Wife: How? (said [...]mug) the Constables Wife? What? his Wife that set me here? I even his Wife (quoth the Maid) therefore I prethée good fellow be quiet. O I will, I will, (said Smug) go tell thy Mistris I will not sing one Song more to disturb her: I prethée doe not good fellow) (quoth the Maid) and so went up againe to her Mistris. She was scarce in the Chamber with her Mistris, delivering his answer but he was as loud and far louder then he was before, though not in the same manner, because of his promise: for he had turn'd from bawling like a Ballad-singer, to shouting, whooping and hollowing like a Forrester. Such a noyse he made as he sate with hollowing and whooping (as is if he had been a hunting) that Master Con­stables sick Wife could by no meanes take a minutes rest by him.

Twice or thrice she sent her maid down to him againe, to de­sire him to he quiet: but as often as she sent, he strained himselfe to raise his voice higher.

Nay yfaith (qd. Smug) your Husband set me here I thanke him, and doe you thanke him, if I be a trouble to you, for setting me so néere you: Blame not me, for yfaith I must be doing somewhat to make my selfe merry. When he had thus told her his minde, hee fell to whooping and hollowing a­gaine.

Then she sent for her Husband, thinking by his presence to still him: but he being with him, Smug was ten times worse then when he was from him (for he played the knave so on pur­pose to crosse him.)

When Master Constable saw, that neither faire means, nor foule, could make him hold his tongue, and that by the noyse he made his Wife grew worse and worse; he commands his Beadle (or some other under Officer) to let him out, and desired him ve­ry kindly to go quickly home to his dwelling.

How knavishly Smug was dealt with by three or foure of his fellow Drunkards, and how he broke the Glasse that shewed him the shadow of his one face.

SMug in his time had played many mad pranks by many, and one day it was his chance to light into the company of thrée or foure mad consorts, that played the knave as well with him, as ever he had play'd the knave with any.

When they had spent a fore- [...]n in quaffing together, and fill'd him with liquor, (which he was very easily intreated to take) and fill'd him so full, that he was too heavie to stand or goe, they led him out of the Ale-house into the Church-Porch, and ther laid him all along upon his back upon a Bench. Under his head (instead of a Cushion, or a pillow) they put a Cric­ket, or a litte Joynt-stoole, (such as Children use to sit on in the Chimney-corner) and under his féet, a great rough-hewed Free-stone.

Yet as hard as they laid him, he slept as soundly, as if he had béen laid down upon a bed of Down; and lay with such a grace, as few Smiths (I can tell you) can lye: for he had upon his head his Red Cap, his Cap of Maintenance, buttoned up before, with a faire Feather of a Peacocks Tayle in it, bound about with a Carnation silk Ribband; his Leather Apron turn'd round toge­ther, and wound about his middle: his Hammer hanging (Han­ger-like) by his side, and both his hands in his pockets.

Thus lay Smug at length, like y ^e Image of Duke Humphrey, over his long agoe consumed Carkas, or his Dust, Earth, and Ashes.

Had honest Smug (thus lying) béen grated about, with some pittifull Epi [...]aph, or Deaths-Head, and Memento Mori, and his sléep lasted as long as the sléep of one of the Seven Slée­pers; I am perswaded he would have had more Spectators then the richest Monument that stands either in Saint Pauls Church, or Westminster.

But to the matter: when (as he lay thus) the mad crew that layd him so, saw he was as déep in Sléepe as Drink, they be­gan to work their wills upon him in this manner:

They got a good handfull of small Coa [...]s which they beat to powder, and having [...]at them to powder, put them into a dish of faire water▪ when they had Well-mingled (like right dawbing Painters) their Small-Coale powder, blacking, and Water toge­ther, and made a perfect Coale-black, without either Size or any such like selling Stuffe, they sayd it on his face, which was rea­sonable black before, not leaving so much white or red to be séen as a small pins-head will cover.

When they had thus he blacked and b [...]smouched him, with his Divels look, they left him (snorting on the Porch-Bench) till he should either wake of himself, or be waked of the Sexton, or some other kind of bald-pated Officer.

There he slept foundly thrée or foure hours without moving; till at last, with a remove that removed him from the Bench to the ground, he waked, & after long stretching, reaching, and yawn­ing, got upon his féet.

But alas, when with much adoe he was got up, he had as much adoe to stand: yet out of the Church-porch he made a shift to [Page] stagger, and up into the stréet. When he was ther [...] (réeling home­wards to his own house) the Boyes at play in the stréet spyed him: at the first sight halfe afraid of his black face, they ran apace away from him; yet at last, when a great companie of them were gathered together, they turned to him again, and followed him close, shouting and crying after him, Divell, Divell, Di­vell.

When Smug, as drunk as he was, heard them call him Divell, Devell, Divell, he marvailed much in his mind wherefore they called him so (for alas he knew not:) Had they called him Drunkard, it would never have grieved him; for that he knew to be his ordinary Title.

Still followed the boyes at his héeles, (crying as they begun) Divell Divell, Divell, throwing old shooes, Boo [...]s, and Pi [...]le stones after him: so long they followed him, that they made him (whole drunk) [...]alfe mad; yet all he could doe, he could not mend it: The boyes loded him so well, they would not leave him till they saw him at his doore.

His Wife (busie within) bearing the noyse and shout the boyes made, looked out, and spyed her own swéet Husband in that swéet taking presently she got him in a doores, and there began (very prettily) to make use of her tongue to him. After many brabling words betwéen them, she shewed him a glasse, in which he saw the shadow of his face, in that most pittifull case.

Then Smug began to swear (not like a Smith I can tell you) Gogs Nowns, Foot and nailes, thou most abomi [...]nable whore, dost thou shew me the Divell, to fright me from that little store of wit which I have? and thy Divell were ten Divels, I am not afraid of him, and that thou shalt quickly sée: With that he took his Hammer from [...]is side, (still séeing his own swée [...] shadow in the Glasse, which he took to be the Divell (struck at it, and with one blow clattered the Glasse all in pieces.

Now you Whore (said he) where is your Divell now? I think I have mauld him I faith: Bring your Divels to me, dost th [...]u? Thou whore dost thou. Alas swéet Smug (quoth she) séeing him so very much moved, be patient I prethée swéet Chuck, and show­ing him the [...]rackt frame: look here, here is no Divell: therefore I prethée swéett Oliver be quiet.

Nay (quoth Smug) Ile tickle your Divels, yfaith; and your Di­vels come to [...]est [...] within mine owne House, upon mine own ground, Ile Divell them.

Come good swéet heart (quoth she) now thou hast beaten the Divell away, let us go to bed, after a quarter of an hours fret­ting, with very good words she got him to bed.

In the morning when she knew his sléep had made him sober, she shewed him his black face in another Glasse; which when [...]e saw, and knew well what he saw, he blusht; but the [...]est was it could not to sée [...], till his [...]izard was taken off with faire w [...]e [...] and soape: then he confest himself faulty, promised amends, and we [...]t very close to his labour.

How cunningly Smug scaped the Keeper, and others that pur­sued him, and made him run up and down from place to place to seek him in vain.

SMug and his and [...]rew of Venison- [...]aters, one night being at their [...], were suddenly set upon by their old Enemy y ^t Kéeper, & two or thrée more; that after they had taken great pains to get their prey, & bound it up handsomely ready to bear it away, they were forc'd to [...] them, for fear of a fur­ther mischief. The Miller he r [...]n one way, and nimble sir John in his [...]uckram [...], another way, and Smug another way, as fa [...] as if they had him [...] up to running all their life time. They had no time to take their leave one of another, or appoint a place of [...].

As those [...] took severall ways to run, so the Kéeper and his [...] themselves to pursue them, one far af­ter the Miller, mo [...]er after sir John, and two or thrée after Smug for he was the [...]ly [...] they looked for, though all them were kn [...]n to the Kéeper well enough▪ The Miller be r [...]n not far, ere he was stay'd with a good p [...]t [...] the [...]: Sir John [...] followers followed [...]o close, that he was [...] to leap for his liberty over a ditch: over he should have [...], [...] a short leap layd him [...] along in ditch and so he was stay'd and taken up with never a drye [...] ▪ [...]o on him▪ Smug [...]e [...] homewards, followed at the héeles [...]y the Kéeper and another, yet they could not overtake him.

When he was got to Edmonton, with running to and fro up one Lane, and down another; he got out of the fight of his pursu­ers: but it was so late, he could not get into any house to hide him, save his own: and into that he durst not goe, fearing they would go thither to séek him.

A pretty while he stood studying which way to shift for himself resol [...]ing one while to do this thing, another while that, another while another. At last, standing thus in a brown study, turning his eyes first one way, then another way, one while up, another while down, he spyed the sign of the White [...]orse: not painted upon a board (as they use to be here in the City.) but fashioned out of Timber, and set gallantly over the Digne-post. Masse (quoth he) I care not greatly, if I get up and bestride this White Horse, and make another S. George here in Edmonton: Ile doe it yfaith, it may be I may sit safer so then any way else; if I doe, I do: if I no not, I know the worst on't, 'tis but wearing two stocks upon one leg, and I am as well able to endure it now as ere I was. Vp to the White Horse he get and back'd him brave­ly, with his arm stretch'd out, his hammer in his hand in stead of a Sword, and the Lippit of his Red Cap tyed under his Chin, which stood for his Helmet most featly.

While he set thus gallantly st [...]ing upon his Woodden horse (yet no Hobby-horse) the kéeper that followed him so close, to have gotten him into his kéeping (with the other that was with him) went peaking and prying in every [...] of y ^e stréet to [...]d him: twice or thrice (backward & forward▪) they went under him, and yet could not sée him, but he saw them well enough.

When they had lost an h [...]rs labour, or thereabouts in séeking after him without doors, they resolved another while to séek him within: Come said the Kéeper to the other; let us go search the Inns, and first this, this White Horse is his daily haunt, & there­fore it may be we shall find him here this nighte [...] let us in.

As the Kéeper was going into the White Horse (under Smug) his fellow looking up, had him stay, stay: quoth the Kéeper, where­fore should I stay? Why look you (said the other) this is not the White Horse as you take it to be, this is the George. Masse (qd. the Kéeper) 'tis the George indéede come let's over to the White-Horse. When they had crost the Way, (as they thought to the [Page] White Horse) they found the George againe. Zounds (qd. the Kéeper) Jack, this is the George too. What? have we two Georges in Edmonton? Foot man, where are we? If this be Edmonton, here was but one George yesterday, and the white Horse over against it, now here are two Georges one against another; this is strange: 'tis very strange indéed (quoth the other.) Bones man are we not at Hodsdon? For thou know­est the two Georges are in Hodsdon. Masse thou sayest true, Jack; and by these Signes, this should be Hodsdon. Come come. (quoth the other) we mistooke our way t [...] the darke: this is Hodsdon; come, let's up to Edmonton. Content (qd. the Kée­per) and together they ran as fast as they could to Hodsdon, to find Edmonton.

When Smug, who heard all their talke (and sate laughing, ready to bewray himselfe with laughter saw them trudging towards Hodsdon, be gat down from his white Horse, and went to bed, leaving them in their Wild-Goose-Chase, to séek him.

When they were come to Hodsdon, there they saw the two Georges too, for there the Signes stood indéed, then they chased, swore, and stampt like mad-men, curs'd poore Smug and his company, and vowed to be the death of him if e're they could take him handsomely. There they tooke up their Lodging for that night, and the next morning went home to their businesse.

How Smugs Wife locked him in a Doores, when hee would have gone abroad a Swaggering, and what shift he made to get out and amongst them.

SMug one-day very early prepared himself to go abroad, ac­cording to promise the day before a Drinking: and to go handsomly, he tricked himself vp in his holiday Sute, put on a cleane Band & his red-Cap that he might go through stitch with his business, without crosse, or controulement. But alas, even as he was ready to go downe the staires, his Wise per­ceiving his intent, presently to crosse him, stept out of the Chamber before him, passed the bodie after her, and lockt him in: now, said shee, and p [...]n be hot with anger, walke vp [Page] and downe and coole your selfe; If your walke tire you, lye downe and rest you, for you shall rest upon no Ale Bench this day.

This crosse déed and these cutting words of hers vext him, that he was almost in a bad a case with fretting, as hee had been the day before with drinking; yet he saw there was no remedie but patience, for neither faire words nor foule could make her turne the Key to let him out.

From the time he rose till almost Dinner time, he walked vp and downe in his Chamber, cha [...]ng, fretting, and mum­bling like poore Tom of Bedlam in his Barne, or bowsing Inne.

At last (to crosse his Wife aswell as she had crost him) he tooke an empty Can that stood by upon a little Table tyed it to the end of a long string: and put it out at his Chamber-window; where it hung dangling like the poore mens Box al Ludgate, and he himselfe, like the bawling Box▪man, stood péeping through his Lattice, crying, For the Lords sake, for the Lords sake, good people, pitty a poore Prisoner; making his Can daunce at the end of his whip cord, with drawing it vp and downe as nimbly as one of the little thred Puppits in the lamentable Motion of Dives and Lazarus. Well, there he stood in this manner bawling and yawling, fill he had drawn as great a company of people together, as the babling of a cheating Mountebanke, or the foule-fur'd, throat of an itchis Ballad, singer in a Faire or Market-time. To conclude, when his Wife saw such a company of people, Men, women and children gathered about him, she (poore wretch) ashamed to heare him, and vext at those that stood gaping about him, in a cha [...]ng heat as she lockt him in, let him out, and was glad to be so [...]d of him.

How Smug was revenged on his Wife, for Locking him in a doores.

THe day succeeding this vnkind Crosse, Smug rose againe very early, and put on working day apparell, with his old [Page] Shéepes-Russet-Button-Cap, and went to worke as hard as if he had wrought for a wager; he laboured at the Forge (but 'twas to forge a piece of Knaverie) till his sweaty face [...]éeked againe. All the day long wrought he thus hard with­out any stop, stay, or hinderance: nay, which is more to be wondred at he dranke not above thrice all day and that was as hee used to call it, small comfort, commonly called small Béere.

His Wife to sée him work so close (as she very well might) mervailed and gave him as kind words as he could wish for, and sware by the faith of her body, she was glad to sée such a sudden alteration. He still plying his worke, gave her good words for her good words, very kindly.

When his labour had brought on the Evening (which brings an end to labour) he very kindly requested his Wife to walke with him, to nip themselves a little in the Eve­ning for it was a very fine frostie Moone-light evening: she very kindly tooke his kind request, and went with him.

Very lovingly they walked together, arme in arme out at the Townes end, one while this way; and another while that even as it pleased him (her most vertuous Leader) to leade her. They walked thus lovingly vp and downe together so long, that there was no Candle burning nor one eye open in all the Village; then home apace he hyed him. When hee was come to the doore, ready to enter, he sent his Wife on a sléevelesse Errand to the Turning-Stile, to his honest neighbour Noddamus: while she poore woman, was about his bidding, mistrusting no Knaverie to be done against her, he presently turn'd the Key on the out-side to let himselfe in, and on the in-side to lock her out.

When she was returned from the place afore-named and found the doore lockt, and the Key sticking in the in-side, she knockt, and with her knocking call'd; but bonest Smug lay snug, and would neither rise to let her in nor make her any answer. Then she knew not what to doe, but (as Women doe wanting their wills) safe and cryed, to ease her stomack. His resolution was set to make her sit all that Night, to [Page] knock her héeles and blow her nayles at the doore, like a poore back-bitten Stall-créeper: Never did she chatter better with anger, then she did at that time with the coldnesse of the weather, that made her téeth goe faster then her tongue.

When she saw, that neither reasonable knocking, nor un­reasonable calling could raise him, shee tooke vp a great Flint-stone, and beat against the doore, as though she would have beat it downe. Then Smug started vp to the window in his shirt, and very strangely asked, who it was kept such a bounsing at the doore? Marry good-man Drunkard, quoth she, it is I that knocks: Wherefore hast thou lockt me out? Nay first, quoth Smug, answer me, Wherefore didst thou lock me in? 'Twas so lately done, I am sure thou hast not forgot it; or if thou hast, thou séest I have not.

So, talke no longer; for I sweare by my Red-Cap, and by Bacchus, the god of good Liquor, I meane to kéepe thée out all night, as thou kept'st me in all day: and so swéet Agnis, till betwéene Seven and eight in the morning, farewell.

To bed went hee againe, and left her to shift for her selfe till morning: how they agreed when they came together, I know not; but you may judge, she scarce tooke it patiently.

How Smug quarrel'd with his Fellowes, and was ready to fight about the singing of a Catch: and how till they turn'd it to his mind, he would not be quie [...]ed.

SMug one day being very merry with his honest swilling Associates, from Drinking fell to Singing; and a­mongst all the odde Ale-house Catches they had vp, this was one, Jle tye my Mare in thy ground: this, Ile tye my Mare in thy ground, was [...]ost so long to and fro betwéene Smug, the Mil­ler, and the merry Parson, that Smug had forgot that he was singing a Catch, and began to quarrell with the Parson, thinking verily hee had meant (as he said in his Song) to [Page] tye his Mare in his ground. Will you tye your Mare in my ground (said Smug?) the Parson sung still, Ile tye my Mare in thy ground: In my ground, said Smug? still went the Parson for ward with his Catch, Ile tye my Mare in thy ground, &c. Then Smug began to swagger indeed, and swore, If he tyed his Mare in his ground, hee would make his Cap and Scull cleave together: besides, hee would give his Mare such a Drench, that after that Drinke, she should never eate more. The Parson seeing Smugs rage increasing with very good words intreated him to be patient, and cast away Choller; for as I am an honest Sir John, and a boone Companion, I meant no harme in the world: I did but sing the Catch, as the Catch was. But all these kind words and intreaties could not winne Smug to patience, till Mr. Parson turn'd his Song, and himselfe in singing, from him to the Miller: Then they were as good friends as could be, and in kind­nesse, went againe to drinke together, till they were all laid drunke to sleepe.

How Smug being drunke in his Bed, pist upon his Wife through a Cullender, taken in stead of a Chamber-pot.

LAbouring at the Liquor all day, many times tyred Smug farre worse then his labour at the Forge, as it was of­ten seene by him; but most especially at this time, that I am now to speake of: For at this time bee had laboured so hard (and no body blame him, for he ceast not from morning till night) that his legges were not able to beare him to his Bed. But what be could not doe himselfe for himselfe, the helping hands of some kind Neighbours and friends did: in Bed they layd him, and left him, to get that sleeping that he lost waking.

There lay be grunting and groaning like a Hog in a Stye, turning to and fro, from one side of the Bed to the tother: for the Liquor wrought so within him, that hee could not sleepe, as he us'd to drinke, soundly for the life of him.

Within halfe an houre after he had lyen thus tumbling and tossing, as if he had lyen upon Nettles, his Wife went to Bed to him, to rest her after her (indeed) true Labour: But (poore Woman) she found lesse rest there then in her labour; for hee kept such a retching and stretching himselfe, such a hunching and punching with his Legs and elbowes, that she might have lyen better at east betweene two [...]ad-men, then by him in that taking.

As he lay thus labouring (laden and over laden) with the Liquor he had taken the liquor lay labouring within him for vent; Which though hee could very hardly rise to give it handsomely, yet hee did his goodwill, and reach'd out of the Bed for a Pispot; but in stead of a Pispot he tooke a Cul­lender (that stood close by his Bed-side upon a Settle) and kneeling upright in his Bed, let his ill-digested Liquor run as freely into it, and through it, upon his [...]umbring Wife, as a Conduit-pipe at waste.

She presently (feeling her selfe warme wet) start up and began to brabble with him, and cry shame upon him, for do­ing such a beastly deed.

Why thou Whore (quoth Smug) wilt thou not give mee leave to pisse? If thou crossest my humour but with two crosse words more, Ile breake the Pisse-pot about the pate of thee, therefore be quiet.

But for all his threatning, she would not h [...]ld her tongue; That she kept walking still, till Smugs fists walked about her eares.

There was such a sore Ba [...]taile in the bed between them, as I thinke never was seene between Bed fellowes before; and had not a Candle and a cleane paire of Sheets beene quickly carried up to part them, there would have been great bloud-shed.