THE lovely Maidens of the City of West­minster, noting what a good husband Ri­chard Casteler was, and séeing how dili­gently he followed his businesse, judged in the end he would prove a rich man: for which many did beare unto him very good affection, and few there were that wished not themselves to be his Wife: insomuch that he having the custome of all the pretty Wenches in the City, by that means knew the length of every maids foot so well, that he above all other best pleased them: on Sundays when he came into the Church, the Maids eyes were so firm­ly fixed on him, that he could neither look forward, backward, nor on any side, but that he should be sure to have a winke of one, a smile of another, the third would give him a nod: and to be briefe, they would all cast on him such gracious looks, that it was easie to guesse by their outward countenance, their inward affections.

[Page] As he stood a [...] at his cutting-boord, he should be sure to have twenty cursies made him in an hour, by Maidens that past up and down: some would bestow on him dainty swéet nosegaies of the fairest flowers they could find, and othersome would bring handkerchers of Cambrick, and divers such like favours; well bewailing their friendship towards him.

But among many that secretly affected him, I will only tell of twaine, because above all the rest, their merriments do only re­main in memory, the one of them was called Margaret of the spread Eagle, but more commonly known by the name of long Meg of Westminster: The other was a proper neat wench named Gillian of the George, both of them as wily as they were witty, and among all the Maids in Westminster were reputed to be the best servants: having therefore good wages, they maintained themselves gallantly, and therewithall so honestly, that no man could quip them with had living, though afterward it fell out o­therwise, as in this History you shall heare.

Margaret was a Maiden born in Lancashire, in height and proportion of body, passing the ordinary state of Women, but there-withall very comely, & of amiable countenance, her strength was agréeable to her stature, and her courage as great as them both: she was of quick capacity, and pleasant disposition, of a li­berall heart, and such a one as would be suddainly angry, and soon pleased, being ready to revenge her wrongs by weapons then by words: and therein did she differ from the nature of wo­men, because she could not abide much babling. And albeit she manifested her good will by divers means, yet did Richard little regard it, having his mind nothing bent unto marriage, by means whereof Margaret grew into such sad conceits as changed her cherry chéeks into a gréen wan countenance, insomuch that every one wondred to sée her pensivenesse.

Nay said Gillian, if that be all, I am at a good point, for though my maiden head be somwhat burthensom to bear, yet I had rather kéep it, then bestow it on a bad Husband, but though I say it, al­though I be but a poore wench, I have choise of husbands, enough and such as I am assured in my conscience, would both love me well, and kéep me gallantly. Wherefore then doe you not mar­ry qd. Margaret? in my opinion it is the most pleasing'st life [Page] that may be: when a woman shall have her Husband come and say to her in this sort: How now Wife? how dost Swéet-heart? what wilt thou have? Wilt thou have a cup of White-wine, or Sack, and if there be one good bit better then another, she shall be sure to have it. At last having well refresht them­selves, she puts her silver whistle to her mouth, and calls her maid to clear the board: then going to the fire he sets her on his knée, stroaking her chéek, checks her under the chin, fetching many kisses at her rubie lips, and so soon as he hears the bell ring eight a clock he calls her to go to bed with him. But when they are once close betwéen a paire of shéets, O Gillian then, then: why what of that qd. she? Nay nothing says Margaret, but they sléep soundly all night. Truly qd. Gillian there be many wives, but few that méet with such kind Husbands: But séeing you ask me why I marry not, in troth Meg I would tell thée, if I had time to stay, and therefore farewell good Meg, when I sée thée again, thou shalt know more of my mind.

Nay Gillian hear you qd. she, go but a little way with me, and I will go home with you, for I have nothing to buy but a a score of Quinces, and a couple of Pomegranets: Gillian was contented to stay a while, and as soon as Margaret had made her market, they went homeward, where by the way Gillian entred into this communication.

You did even now demand a question of me, and very desirous you were to know why I did not marry when I was so well pre­ferred; Trust me Margaret I take you to be my friend, which makes me the more willing to unfold my fancy; And truth it is that I have forsaken good matches, for I might have had Master Cornelius of the Guard if I would, who as you know is weal­thy, yet there was one thing made me to refuse his kind proffer: what was that qd. Margaret, I pray thée tell? Quoth she, he lo­ved me not so well, but I loved another ten times better and therefore it is not good for hands to joyn where hearts agrée not. No Meg no, there is a youth in our stréet that nearer touches my heart, and better pleases my mind: for it is an old Proverb, two may kéep counsel if one be away, Nay then quoth Meg. if you dare not trust me, tell me no further notwithstand­ing I have had credit in as great a matter as yeurs, for many a [Page] man hath [...] his life in my hands, and found no hurt thereby, and as many [...] have committed their secrets to me, as men have ventured their bodies with me. Go too Margaret, you are disposed to j [...]st said Gillian, but swear by thy Maiden-head that thou wilt never bewrey, nor prevent me in my love, and I will shew thée all: nay fie do not so qd. Margaret, shew not all for shame, left more sée it then my self, for so may they blush at thy boldnesse: no trust me qd. Gillian, for such a one as cannot kéep her Maiden-head, will never keep a secret, and that made Katherine of the Crane to be such a blab: but now Meg I will procéed to the matter. What do you think by Richard of the Rose, who is up so early every morning, that he is called the wakefull cock of Wesminster.

Oh ho qd. Meg is that the man? there is no reason I should think amisse of him that every man commends: neverthelesse, he is no body in respect of riches, nothing comparable to Cornelius. I will tell thée what qd. Gillian, that man which néedeth nei­ther to flatter with friends, nor borrow of his neighbours, hath riches sufficient: and he is most poore that hath least wit, by which arguments I am able to prove, that this Tock is as wealthy as wary, for he will sure be beholding to no body, or to as few as may be, and it is alwaies to be noted, that men of such minds do never prove beggers.

Margaret hearing Gillian so stoutly to to take Richards part, perceived by her vehement spéeches, the great affection she bore to him, and finding that she was sick of her own disease, Marga­ret sought means to remove the cause of her griefe: And the po­licy she used most herein, was to speak altogether in Richards dispraise, and the more firmly to plant her own affectio [...]n, whereupon she uttered her mind in this sort.

Well Gillian, séeing you hear so good an opinion of Richard of the Rose, I would not for a bushel of Angels séek to diswade you: but because you request my opinion how I like the man, in rotth I will tell thée my mind without flattery: I confesse that Richard is a gentle young man, courteous and kind, diligent about his businesse, and wary in his dealings, which argues good husbandry. Notwithstanding, I like not these over co­vetous fellows, of such gréedy minds; Tell me I pray thée [Page] what joy should a woman have with such a churle, that would grudge at every halfe-penny that is laid out: That in a whole year would not leave a farthing worth of mustard unwritten in his book. And such a one I feare will this Cock prove, for me thinks he looks with a hungry nose, and howsoever you think of him. I know not, but I verily fear, though he be a Cock by name, he will never prove a Cock of the game. Againe, he is but a dwarfe in respect of a man, a shrimp, a wren, a hop of my thumb, such a one as a body may hide in a wrinkle of their but­tocks.

Well Meg quoth she, you are priviledged to speak your plea­sure, but should another thus mi [...]earme him, I would teare her face: I tell thée true, I had rather have a winner then waster, a sparer then a prodigall spender: for when a man in his youth hath gotten something with pain, he may better spend it in his age with pleasure, and far better he should be thought covetous, then carelesse: his stature and proportion of body pleases me well enough, for it is no matter how great he is, but how good he is.

But Margaret séeing our talke hath indured so long, that it hath brought us home, let us at our parting be mindfull of our promises, to kéep secret whatsoever hath béen said, for little knows the young man the depth of my mind, and therefore would I kéep it close, till I saw some signe of good will procéeding from him, for it becometh not maidens to be woers, though willingly they could wish to wed where they best fancy, and so farewell swéet Margaret. Adue gentle Gillian quoth Margaret untill our next méeting, when I hope I shall further understand of procéedings in your love.

When Meg had thus understood her mind, and saw how the matter went she sought all means possible to prevent her, as hereafter shall be shewen.

IT chanced that against Whitsentide, Margaret stood in néed of a new paire of shooes: therefore in a morning betimes she came to Richard of the Rose to bespeak them aforehand, and the more to declare her kindnesse, and to win his good will, she carryed with her a bottle of excellent good Muskadine, which a Yeoman of the Kings wine-sellor bestowed upon her, she car­ried with her a dainty péece of powdred béefe, and the carkasse of a cold Capon, and thus began to gréet him. All health to the kind cock of Westminster, that with the Larke gréetes the Sun rising with a chearfull note: Tell me quoth she thou bonny Lad, wilt thou take the length of my foot, and make me a good paire of shooes against Sunday? that I will Margaret quoth he, there­fore let me sée thy foot: there is both my foot and leg said Meg, I am not ashamed to shew either of them for I am not legged like a Craue, nor footed like a Flie, and therewith she did lift up her cloathes to her knée, whereat Richard smiling said, a little high­er Meg and shew all: whereupon she suddainly replyed in this sort: soft Richard not so, for I will tell thée one thing,

Good reason qd. Richard, leave is light, which being obtained a man may be bold without offence, but this onely is my griefe. I have never a last long enough for thy foot: then I would they were all fired qd. Meg. He that would be counted a good work­man will have tools to fit all persons: Fie Richard fie, thou shouldest never be unprovided, especially for women.

Well Meg qd. he, be contented, consider you are a Woman of no ordinary making, but as in height thou overlookest all, so in the length of thy foot thou surpassest all: therefore I must have a pair of Lasts made for the nonce, and that shall be done out of hand: I tell thée Dick qd. she, as high as I am, I am no so high [Page] as Pauls, nor is my foot so long as Graves-end Farge. Not­withstanding qd. Richard, a paire of Lasts to fit thy foot will cost as much as a hundred of wooden faggots, which will not be bought for ten groats: if they cost a crown qd. Meg, let me have them; I love not to pinch for a penny, if I find my shooes good, I will not shrink for a shilling: In troth qd. Richard, franke cu­stomers are worthy of good ware, and therefore Meg doubt not, for thou shalt have as good a shooe as ever was drawn upon a wo­mans foot: Godamercy for that swéet Dicke qd. she, and séeing thou sayst so, I will bestow this bottle of wine on thée to break­fast, and therewithall she pluckt out her powdred béef and her cold Capon; Richard séeing this, with thanks to Margaret for meat, reacht out a couple of joynt stooles, and after that they had laid a cloth therern, they down did fit, at which time many mer­ry spéeches did passe betwéen them. And at that very time there was in the same shop, amongst a great many other men, a plea­sant Iourney-man cal'd round Robbin, being a well trust fellow, short and thick, yet very active and pleasantly conceited: for singing he was held in high reputation among all the shoomakers in Westminster. This jolly companion séeing them both so well at their breakfast, and nothing at all to respect him in the place where he sate, cast out these merry spéeches unto them.

With that Margaret filling a cup brim full, gave it into his hands, saying, now tast it Robin and take there the cup: Nay hang me quoth Robin if I drink it not up.

By my Maiden-head quoth Margaret, I sée that thou art a good fellow: and to have thée drink it up is the thing that I crave.

Now by my honesty qd. Meg you do me mighty wrong to think so ill of me, though I cannot excuse my selfe, for women are not Angels, though they have Angels faces: for to speak the truth might I have had mine own hearts desire when time was, I would rather have chosen to lye with a man than a maid but such merry motions were out of my mind, and now I yow that a maiden I will dye.

Nay qd. Maragret, your Master scornes me, he kéeps all his Gowns for Gillian of the George, a pretty wench I confesse, ha­ving a proper body, but a bad leg, she hath a very good counte­nance, but a bad colour: why Margaret qd. Richard, hath she told you so much of her mind, that you know her disease so well? It may be she hath qd. Margaret but whether she did or no it is sufficient that I know so much: But I think qd. Margaret you are not so besotted to make any account of a Tallow-cake.

Certainly qd. Richard, which is the best or worst I know not yet, nor do I mean hastily to prove: and as Cillian of the George, [Page] as she hath no reason to hate me, so she hath no cause to love me: well said Master, quoth Robin,

Trust me qd. Margaret, I speak not this so much to disgrace Gillian, as for the regard I have to your credit: but to make an end of Gillian and this jest altogether: let me intreat you soon at night to come to our house: and though your chéere be small your welcome shall be great: I will have as good a Posset for you as ever you did taste in your life. My Master is an old man, and he commonly goes to bed at nine, and for my Mistris, I know where she will be safe till midnight masse be ended, so that for an hour we may be as merry as Pope Ione: what say you Richard quoth she, will you come? In troth Margaret qd. he, I heartily thank you for your good will, I would willingly come, but I love not to be from home so late,

Robin said he, thou art so full of thy rime, that often thou art without reason: thru séest that Margaret hath béen at cost with us to day, and it is more then good manners to charge her fur­ther: quoth Margaret, it is not such a matter, therefore swéet Richard you shall come, and forget not to bring round Robin with you, and so farewell.

Why then I prethée good Robin, said Meg, doe not forget in any case: for I faith Robin, if thou bring thy Master along with thée, I will think the better of thée while I live: why then quoth he,

Now Margaret was no sooner gone, and Richard at his cut­ting boord, and Robin set on his stoole, but in comes Gillian of the George, bringing in her Apron the corner of a Venison [Page] Pasty, and some Lambe Pye, bidding Richard good morrow, and askt him if he had broke his fast? yes verrily quoth Rich­ard I thank long Meg, we have béen at it this morning, and had you come a little sooner, you had found her here, for she went away but even now.

Gillian hearing Robin to enter into Megs commendations, be­gan to grow jealous of the matter: out upon her foule stammell quoth she, he that takes her to his wife, shall be sure of flesh enough, let him get bread were he can. Notwithstanding this, I will tell you Richard, the lesse she come into your company, the more it will be for your credit. And howsoever she deserves it, God knows, I cannot accuse her, but I promise you, she hath but a hard report amongst many. But let her rest as she is: sée here what I have brought you, and with that she gave him the Venison and the rest, and drawing her purse, she would needs sond for a quart of wine, Richard sought to perswade her to the contrary, but she would not: what man qd. she, I am able to give you a quart of wine: That's spoke like an Angell quoth Robin;

Hereupon the Wine was fetcht, and so they sate them down and fed heartily on the Venison Pasty, and Gillians eye fed as gréedily on Richards favour: and as soon as the wine was come, she pluckt out of her pocket a good péece of Sugar, and filling a glasse of wine tempered well therewith, she drank to him, saying, here Richard, to all that love you and me, but especial­ly to him whom I love best: qd. Richard, I will pledge him whosoever it be.

Then Gillian looking round about, spoke to this effect: verily Richard here is a pretty house, and every thing hansome by Saint Anne, I sée nothing wanting but a good Wife to kéep all things in his due kind: whereunto Kobin made this an­swer.

Who I? alas quoth she, your Master scornes me, he looks for a girle with gold, one that might bring him the red ruddocks chinking in a bag: and yet he were better to have one with lesse money and more huswifery: for my one part, I would not come to learn of never a Woman in Westminster, how to deal in such affairs: I think no lesse quoth Richard, and therefore I pray God send you a good Husband, and one well deserving so good a wife: with that Gillian fetcht a great sigh, saying, Amen I pray God. Why then marry me qd. Robin, and thereby prevent the perish of bad thoughts, hark in thy ear Robin quoth she, I would thy Master would say so much and then he should soon know my mind.

Why what is the matter quoth Richard? nay nothing (quoth Gillian) but that I was bold to jest with your man, and I hope you will not be offended if he and I talk a word or two. There is no reason I should, quoth Richard, & therefore confer at your pleasure, and the whilst I will be busie with the Lamb-pye, then Gillian whispering Robin in the ear, spoke in this sort unto him. I perceive you can spy day at a little hole. Robin I am of opini­on that affection groweth as strong in a woman as a man, they to have equall priviledge, as well as men to speak their minds: In truth Robin to be plain, I love thy Master with all my heart, and if thou wouldst be so much my friend to break the matter un­to him, and therewithall to procure his good likeing unto me, I would bestow on thée as good a sute of apparrell, as ever thou wast Master of in thy life, whereunto Robin answered, saying.

There it is, qd. Gillian and I do protest, that upon that bles­sed day, when he gives his happy consent to be my husband, at the delivery of thy apparell, I will make that one kisse twenty, and they came to the table, and set them down again. Richard [Page] marking all, said nothing, but at her approach to the board, tooke the glasse and drunk to her, giving her thanks for her cost and kindnesse: she gladly accepting the same, bending her body in­stead of cursie, took it at his hands, and drunk unto Robin, and so taking her leave of them both shh [...] ran spéedily home.

So soon as she was gone, Robin told his Master it was the pleasentest life in the world to live a Batchelor, for he would never want good chéer and company: I marry quoth Richard, but what I get one way I spend another: you sée quoth he here is a foreneoon spent to no purpose. I tell thée Robin, I account their inticoments dangerous, therefore a man must not be won with fair words as a fish with a bait.

Well quoth Robin, all is one to me, whether you love or loath them, but let not the posset be forgot soon at night.

Quoth Richard, if I rest in the mind I am in now, I mean not to be there at all: then you will lose her love quoth Robin, that, said his Master is that I desire, for the love of a Shroe is like the shadow of a cloud that soon consumeth, and such love is better lost then found. Quoth Robin, this once follow my mind,

Verily quoth his Master, if thou wilt do so. I will be Megs guest this once, and think my self happy to be so rid of them: Hereupon Richard having his Shop windows shut in and his doors made fast: He with his man Robin, took their direct way to the Spread Eagle, where they no sooner knockt at the doore, but Margaret came down and let them in, and bid them hearti­ly welcome. Now Richard quoth she, you are a man of your word, I pray you come néere for to have you in my Office is my desire: quoth Robin was your Office never a fire? you see the Kitchin is large and the chimney wide: quoth Robin, how many Rooks hath your Kitchin tride? I know not quoth Meg, [Page] quoth Robin, I think even so. Go to quoth Meg, but Ile let it passe; Then taking Richard by the hand, she bad him sit down, saying, good Richard you are welcome. I have never a friend in the World that can be better welcome:

Why Robin qd. Meg, be not offended, thou art welcome to me.

I faith quoth he, you bid me welcome when you have nothing else to doe.

Herewithall Margaret very neatly laid the cloth, set a dainty minst Pye on the boord, and other good chéere and sent the other maid of the house for a pottle of wine, and so fell to their meat merrily, when they had eaten and drunk, Margaret stept to reach the posset, but while she had it in her hand, she heard one com­ming down the stairs: Gods precious quoth she my Master comes, where shall we hide the posset, if he sée it, we shall have more anger then ten possets are worth, with that she whipt it into the seat of the p [...]ivy house, thinking it there safest out of sight, her Master being an old crabbed fellow, would often steale down to sée what his Maids were a deing, the old man being rai­sed by a loosenesse of his body, came to pay tribute to Aiax, where he clapt his buttocks into the posset, wherewith being scalded, he cryed out, saying, help maids, or I am spoiled for ever: for some Divel hath thrown scalding lead upon my buttocks, and in this case he stampt up & down the yard holding his hips in his hands: Meg. that knew better what the matter was then her Ma­ster, ran into the house of Office with a spit, as if she purposed to broach the Divell, casting the posset into the puddle, said, how now Master what is the matter, are you hurt, hurt quoth her Master, I tell thée Meg, never was man thus hurt, and yet I am ashamed to shew my hurt: bring me a candle quoth Meg, I tell you Master, it is better all should be shewn, then all spoiled: and casting up his shirt, spied both his great chéeks full of blisters, whereupon she was faine to make a medicine with sallet oyle and houseléek to asswage this unséen fire: and by this means, Richard with his man was fain to slip away, which was to Ro­bin no small grief, and yet laughing to think how odly this jest fell out.

His Master answering, said, Robin I will never go there to eat posset more. Margaret coming thither told them she was sorry they were so suddainly broke from their banquet; but Y faith Richard (quoth she) another time shall make amends for all.

RIchard Castler living a long time a Batchelor in Westmin­ster: at last linked his love to a Dutch Maiden dwelling in London. To this pretty soule went Richard secretly a woo­ing, who for halfe a year set as light by him, as he did by the Maidens of Westminster, and the more he was denyed, the more he sought her good will; But while he was thus busied to make himself blessed by matching with a Maiden in London: round Robin cast his wits to set the Maidens of Westminster against him, which he effected in this sort.

Margaret and Gillian coming often by the Shop, cast many a Shéeps eye to spy out their beloved friend, and finding him not at his Shop, they judged that it was not Idlenesse that drew him away, but rather that he was gone a wooing to some pretty Wench, whereupon Margaret entred into these spéeches with round Robin.

I wonder quoth Meg, where your Master layes his knife aboord now a dayes; tell me Robin said she, where the Cock doth crow now? Not so quoth Robin, my Master doth not that allow,

Margaret hearing round Robin rime to so good a purpose; asked [Page] if he knew his Masters mind so much? therefore swéet Robin let me know whereupon thou speakest. Hereupon Robin said, that his Master was very well affected towards her, and that if it were not for Gillian of the George, he would long ere this have uttered his mind to you: but quoth Robin, he is se haunted by that female spirit, that he can rest in no place for her.

These Words uttered by Robin, made Margarets heart leap in her belly: wherefore taking gentlely her leave of him, she thus began to meditate on the matter: Now do I well sée that the tongue of a wise man is in his heart, but the heart of a foole is in his tongue: and Richard quoth she hast thou born me such secret good will and would never let me know it.

Thus in a jolly humor Margaret jotted home, flatterring her self in her happy fortune, in which delight we will leave her and make some rehearseall of Gillians joy: who coming in the like manner to Robin, asking for his Master, was certified by him, that for her sake only he lived in such sorrow, that he could not stay in his shop, and therefore was faine to drive away melan­cholly by marching abroad. O Gillian quoth he, had it not béen for two causes, he would long ere this have uttered his mind to thée: quoth Gillian, is it true Robin that thou dost tell me? doubt not of that, do you think I will tell you a lye? Nay good Robin be not angry, blame me not to aske a question: ask what you will quoth Robin, and I may chuse whether I will answer you or no: now I have opened my Master secret, you were best to blab it through all the town. Nay good Robin that is not my mind quoth Gillian, but I beséech thée let me know those two causes that kéeps thy Master from uttering his mind. Nay soft, there lay a staw for fear of stumbling quoth Robin, let it suffice you that you know what you know. Nay good swéet Robin I pray thée make it not dainty now to tell me all, séeing you have begun; the day may come that I may requite thy courtesie: say you so Gillian? now by good Crispianus, were it not that I am in hope you would prove kind to my Master, and be a good Mi­stris to us, I would not utter one word more. Well Robin, if ever I come to command thy Masters house, and kéep the keys, thou shalt sée I will kéep no [...]iggards table, but you shall have meat and drink in a plentifull manner.

Robin hearing this, told her this tale, that his Master loved her intirely, and would long since have uttered his mind, but for two reasons: the first was that he could never find a fit op­portunity, because of long Meg, whose love to him was more then he could wish: for if he do but speak, and look upon any, she presently pouts and lowers, which is such a grief to my Master, that he is faine to kéep silent. The second reason is, that he is not wealthy as he could wish himself, you would disdain his suit: Who I quoth Gillian? I tell thée Robin I do more respect his kindnesse then his goods. Why then good Gillian quoth Robin, hearken hither thrée dayes hence, and you shall hear more. I warrant thée Robin quoth she, and so away she went, being as glad of this tidings as her Master was of a good Term. Now when his Master came home, Robin asked him how he sped in his suit, even as Cooks do in baking their Pyes, sometimes wel, sometimes ill. London Wenches are wily Lasses; Now she is in one mind, by and by in another, and to be brief never stedfast in any thing.

Tush Master quoth Robin, stoop not to a Thistle, take this comfort, what one will not, another will: I tell you Master, these nice Minions are so full of curiosit, that they are cleane without courtesie: Yet well fare the gallant girls of Westmin­ster, that will do more for a man then he will do for himself. What is that said his Master? mary quoth he to give two kisses before he calls for one. That indéed is extraordinary kindnesse quoth Richard, but their loves is like braided Wares, that is of­ten séen, but hardly sold.

Well Master quoth Robin, you know your two old friends Meg and Gillian: I, what of them quoth Richard? I have made them both beléeve that you love them out of all cry. And I beshrow thy heart for that qd. Richard, for therein thou dost both deceive them, and discredit me: I assure thée I like not such jesting.

Richard hearing his man so hot, pacified him with many cold [Page] and gentle speeches, wishing if he had begun any jest, that he should finish it with such discretion, that no reproach might grow upon him, whereupon Robin proceeded in this sort.

Vpon a time Margaret according to her wonted manner came thither, whom Robin peswaded that his Master was go [...]e into Tutle fields, and he desired you that you would meet him there: but take heed that Gillian of the George spye you, and so follow you to the place where my Master attends your coming. Tush quoth Margaret, let me alone for that, if she follow me she were better no, for I will lead her a dance shall maker her weary be­fore she hath done, and so farewell Robin: for into Tutle fields I will trudge as fast as I may. But take heed you loose not your maiden-head by the way.

Robin presently runs unto Gillian, saying what chéere Gilli­an, how does all the pretty Wenches here? I faith Robin qd. they, we rub out with the rest: but what is the news with thée?

And with that (rounding her in the eare) he told her that inconti­nent it was his Masters will she should méet him in Tutle filds: charging her if she met Margaret she should in no case go for­ward, for my Master cannot abide that great rounsefull should come in his company.

For that let me alone quoth Gillian, but trust me Robin, it could not have come in a worse time this twelve moneth: why then let it rest till another time quoth Robin: nay quoth she, I will go to him, sith so kindly he sent for me; into Tutle fields she goes, where at last she spied Margaret with a hand-basket in her hand, who suddainly had got a sight of her, she made a shew as if she gathered hearbs in the field: quoth Gillian I will ga­ther hearbs as fast as you, though I have as little néed of them as your self.

In the mean time Robin got him home, and hartily laugh­ing at them, saying O what a World is this, when maids runs a madding for husbands? now may I sweare what I have séen.

How can men say maids are proud, or coy, when we find them [Page] so gentle, that they will run like a Falcon to the Lure: but alas they are deceived in finding Richard in Turtle fields: but hereby I know their minds against another time.

Thus did Robin deride them when he found their fondnesse to be such: but to leave him to his humor, and return to the maids that were picking hearbs in the fields: when Meg saw that Gil­lian would not away, she came to her, and askt her what she did there? nay what do you here quoth she? quoth Meg I come to gather thrift, but I can find nothing but thistles: quoth Gillian but I mean to get hearts-ease ere I goe: Nay quoth Meg I shall find thrift, as soon as you shall find heart-ease, but I think I shall find none to day, then get you home quoth Gillian, would you be rid of my company qd. Meg? for that word I mean not to be gon yet: I faith Gillian I smell a Rat. Then quoth she you have as good a nose as our gray Cat: but what Rat do you smell tell me? I doubt, if there be any Rat in the field, you would fain catch him in your trap, but I faith Meg you shall be deceiv'd: then qd. Meg you would have the Rat taste no chéese but your own; then said Gillian, wheresoever he run, I would have him créep into no corner of yours: you speak mysticall quoth Meg: if thou art a good Wench let's go home together: quoth Gillian, as I came not with you, so I mean not to go with you.

Quoth Meg before God I will stay as long as thée for thy life: quoth Gillian thou shalt stay while midnight then: and in this humor sometimes they sate down, sometimes they stalkt round the fields, till it was night, and at last the Watch met with them, who contrary to Gillians mind, brought them home together. But their Mistresses that had so long mist them, were very an­gry with their long absence, yet were glad they were come again; and asking where they had béen so long, the Watchmen an­swered, that the one had béen to séek hearts-ease, and the other to gather thrif. Nay quoth their Mistrisses if that be the reason, we cannot much blame them, séeing we have sought it this seven years and could not find it: and in this sort the jest ended.

Within a while after, Richard through his long [...]oing, had [...]otten the good will of his swéet-heart, and making all things ready for his marriage, presently Magaret and Gillian had no­tice or it, who coming unto Richard, saying he was the most false [Page] and unconstant man in the World. Have I qd. Meg, set my whole mind on thée to be thus served? Nay quoth Gillian, have I indured such sorrow for thy sake, and be thus unkindly cast off? Now I wish from my heart quoth Meg, that if ever thou marriest any out me, that she may make thée as errant a Cuc­kold as Jack Coomes. So, you are very charitable quoth Rich­ard, to with me no worse then you mean to make your Hus­band: but when did I request thée to come into Tuttle fields? What have you so weak a memory quoth she? ask your man Robin whether it were so or no: Well quoth Robin what then? wherefore did you not speak with him at that present?

A vengeance take her quoth Meg, I could not méet him for Gillian. I could not méet him for Meg, a morin take her quoth Gillian. Richard hearing them at words, made this reply. It is a strange thing that you will blame me of discourtesie: had you come at the appointed time, it is likely I had married one of you, séeing my mind was adieted to one as well as the other:: Why may it not be yet quoth they? No said he, you speak too late: hearing this answer they were struck with grief, and so with watry eyes went home, to whom Robin carried two Wil­low Garlands, saying; You prety souls that forsaken be,

Meg being merrily inclined, shook off sorrow in this sort, and taking the Willow Garland, said, Wherefore is grief good? can it recall folly past? no [...] and therefore a fig for the Cock of We­stminster; Now God blesse me, I swear by Venus, that in the mind I am in, I would not have him, if he had as much money as would lye in Westminster Hall. And therefore Robin this Willow Garland is to me right welcome: and now I will goe with thee to Gillian, but when they came to Gillian, Robin staid for her at the stair foot: they found her sick in her bed, to whom Margaret spake in this manner. What how now Gillian sick a bed? now fie for shame, let not a man thiumph so much over thée, as to say thou gav'st the Crow a pudding. Ah no quoth Gilli­an, death is swéet to them that live in sorrow, but to none should [Page] be better welcome then to me. What now quoth Margaret, whose Mare is dead? Art thou a young Wench, fair and come­ly, and doth thou despaire of life: and all for love? O quoth Gil­lian, what are all the men in the world to me now I have lost my Richard. Rise quoth Meg, come lets go drink a quart of Sack to wash down sorrow. O quoth G [...]lli [...]n I cannot rise if I might have all the World. What if your Father or Mother, or some of the Kings Gentlemen intreat you, would you not rise, never prate, I would not rise to the best Lord in the Land, nor to no man else: nay qd. Meg I am sure you would: If I do, say I am an errant quean. Nay qd. Meg, séeing you say so, I have done, and therefore Ile kéep my breath to cool my pottage.

A matter said Gillian? what matter is it swéet Meg, tell me? no quoth she, tis but but a trifle, your swéet heart Richard hath sent his man Robin for you, and he tells me he hath a token to deliver to you: quoth Gill, where is he, why comes he not up? quoth Meg, he counts it more then manners to presse into a mai­dens chamber. O stay a little good Meg and I will go along with you, and with that, on she slipt her Petticote, and would not stay the puptting on her stockings or her shooes: why how now Gillian quoth Meg, have you fogot your self? remember you are sick a bed: tush 'tis no matter for that said Gillian, grief hath too tongues, to say, and unsay: and so she ran down the stairs after Margaret, who got Robin to go before to the thrée Tuns, who when Gillian came, she asked him how his Master did, and what his errand was to her.

You speak merrily quoth Margaret, but I wish I could sée the Wine come once, that I may drink a hearty draught: for sor­row they say is dry, and I find it to be true, ‘Then drink hard quoth Robin and bid sorrow adue.’

Thus when they had whipt off two or three quarts, Gillian began to grow as pleasant as the best, and would know of Ro­bin what he had to say to her: nothing qd. he but to do my Ma­sters commendation, & to deliver you his token. This token qd. she, what a Willow Gar land? is this the best reward he can give me for my good will: had he no body to flout but me. O [Page] intollerable injury quoth Gillian, did I take pains to rise out of my warm bed for this? Well Margaret if you will agrèe, we will wear these disdainfull branches on his marriage day to his great disgrace: content quoth Meg, look what thou wilt allow, I will not dislike, so paying the shot, away they went.

At length when the marriage day was come, and that the bride in the midst of her friends was set down to dinner, Margaret and Gillian attired in red petticotes, with white linnen sléedes, and fine Holland Aprons▪ having their Willow Garlands on their heads, entred the Hall singing this song:

Their song being thus ended, the Bride said she was heartily sorrie for their hard fortunes, and blaming the Bridegroom for his unkindnesse: Nay do not so quoth Meg, for you shall finde him kind enough at night: but séeing he hath disappointed me [Page] in this sort, if shall go hard but I will loose my maiden-head as soon as you shall, and you shall make good hast then. Well Gil­lian quoth she, let us go, never will I be tide in affection to one man again while I doe live? Well, I say little, but hencefor: ward, hang me if I refuse reason when I am reasonably intrea­ted. Thus Margaret in a melancholly humor went her wayes, and in short time after she forsook VVestminster, and attended on the Kings army at Bullen, and while the siege lasted, became a Landresse to the Camp and in the end she left her life in Isling­ton, being very penitent for all her former offences. Gillian in the end was married, and became a very good house-kéeper, li­ving in honest name and fame till her dying day.

THe Kings Majesty having won the strong town of Bullen, victoriously he returned into England, and according to his accustomed manner lying at hi [...] Palace of White-Hall: divers of his Nobility passing up and down VVestminster, did many times hear the Iourney men Shoomakers singing: whose plea­sant [Page] songs was so pleasing in the ears of the hearers, that it cau­sed them to stay about the doore to hearken thereunto: Robin above the rest, declared such cunning in his song, that he ever ob­tained the chiefest praise; Now you shall understand, that by their often singing in the Shop, the Iourneymen of that house were noted above all men in VVestminster, insomuch that at the last, the King had knowledge thereof, who caused them to be sent for to the Court. Whereupon round Robin and his foure fellows made themselves ready, and their Master being of a good mind, against the day they should go before the King, he suted them all at his own cost, in doublets & hose of crimson Taffety, black velvet Caps on their heads, and white Feathers, on their legs they had fine yellow stockings. Pumps and Pantofles on their féet: by their sides each of them wors a faire Sword: and in this sort being brought before his Majesty, upon their knées they craved pardon for presuming to come into his royall pre­sence: The King séeing them to be such proper men, and atty­red in Gentlemen-like manner, had them stand up: Why my Lords quoth he, be these the merry minded Shoomakers you spake of? they are dread Soveraign, said they: certainly, said the King, you are welcome every one, but who among you is round Robin?

His Grace laughing heartily, told him that he heard say he could sing well.

Hereupon the King sate him down where many great Lords and Ladies attended his Highnesse. And being in the Christmas time, Robin, with his fellows had liberty to declare their cun­ning before our King, but his Princely presence did so amate them, that they were quite dash'd out of countenance, which his Grace perceiving, gave them many gracious words, of incou­ragement, [Page] whereupon they began in this sort, singing a song of the winning of Bullen.

Their Song being ended, our King cast them a purse with fifty fair Angels for a reward, and so they had liberty to depart: and when they came home, they told their Master all their merriment before the King, and what his Grace had bestowed on them, and powring the Gold upon the table, and their Master told it for them and every mans share was five pound a piece. Which when Robin saw he swore he would bestow a supper upon his Master and Mistris, though it cost him two angels: his fellows hearing him so frée, said they would joyn with him and invite all the Shoomakers in West­minster to bear them company.

This being concluded, they met at the sign of the Bell, and they were very merry, and Robin began to blame his Master that in thrée years time had not got his Mistris with child: hold quoth he, I have but jested all this while, but when I fall on in earnest, I will make her belly rise like a Tun of new Ale, thou knowest I am the Cock of Westmin­ster. I quoth Robin you had that name,

More for your rising, than your goodness in Venus game. But suddenly after this his Master dyed, being a good friend to decayed house kéepers, a worthy example for all men to fol­low.

MVch about this time, there liv'd in London a rich Shoo­maker, and a gallant housekéeper, who being a brave person, was therefore of most men called lustey Peachy: he kept all the year long forty sad men and Prentices at work, and every one be cloathed in tawny Coats, which he gave as his Livery, with black Caps and yellow Feathers: and eve­ry Sunday and holy day, when this Gentlemanlike Citizen want to Church in his black Gown garded with Velvet, it was his order to have all his men in their Liveries to wait upon him, with every man his Sword and Buckler, ready at any time, it need required.

It came to passe upon St. Georges day, that this Eolly Shoomaker (being servant to the Duke of Suffolk) went to the Court with all his men after him to give attendance upon his noble Master: which some young Gentlemen more wan­then [Page] wise, pick a quarrel, thereby to try his Manhood: qd. they did you ever sée a Shoomaker, a Cobling Companion brave it so as this fellow doth? sée what a train of hardy Squires and squaring lads they be, they look as if they would fight with Gargantus, and yet I durst lay my life they dare scant kill a Hedge-hog: I warrant you there is never a Knight that goes with such a train: it were good sport to try what they could do? My mastes I tell you this fellow is a hardy Coin, he is currant mettle y-faith and whensoever you try him, you'l find him not flie a soot: With that, comes by lusty Tom Stute­ley and Strangwidge two gallant Sea Captains who were attired in Crimson Velvet, in watched silk, thrump hats, and white frathers, having Pages attending with their weapons, ask'd what was the matter? marry Captain quoth they, we are all beholding to ponder lusty Gallant with so many wait­ing on him with Tawny Coats: S'blood what to be quoth Stuteley? be séems to be a gallant man said Stangwide and were it not I sée him in the Duke of Suffolks livery▪ I should take him to be some Lord: Nay quoth Stuteley he is some Knight of good living. Gentlemen quoth they, you are de­ceived in your judgements, for he is a good Shoomaker living in Fleetstreet. What? but a Shoomaker quoth Stuteley? O that word makes me scratch my elbow: Can a Shoomaker come with more serving men at his héels then Captain Stute­ley; sée how it makes my blood rise: sée how he squares it out? sée, what a company of handsome fellows follow him, [...]is twenty pound to a penny but they are better men their Master: not so quoth the Gentlemen for their birth and bring­ing up are much at one for they are all Shoomakers: now by this iron age quoth Stuteley, were it not that he is attendant on the Duke, I would have him by the ears presently. I wi [...] say a hundred pound that Captain Strangwidge and I beat him and his Courty men. The Gentlemen being ready to set this match forward, commended the Captains high courage: Well Gentlemen said they you say he dwells in Fleetstreet, and that he is a Shoomaker, never swear we with become his Customers: Nay quoth Stuteley we will bespeak Boots on him and so we will raise our quarrel▪ for if they come not on [Page] easte, and sit on our legs neatly, we'll beat them about their ears, and if they take it in dudgin and follow us for revenge, if we make not them leap before us like Monkies, and run like shéep-biters, wée'l lase our credits for ever.

But what if you chance to kill one of them? what care we? we are bound to Sea on a gallant voyage, where they cannot go forward without us, and when they are séeking of us in Fleetstreet, we shall be séeking out the Coast of Florida.

Within a while after Stuteley and Strangwidge having thus determined, came into Fleestreet and inquired for P [...] ­chies shop, and when they came to the house they inquired for the good man, the foreman of the shop demanded what their wills was, why knabs quoth they let us speak with your Ma­ster; Gentlemen quoth he, if you lack any commodity in our shop, I can fit you: why Iack sauce quoth Stuteley, know you to whom you speak?

The fellow being displeas'd at his words, roundly answers, ask you to whom I speak, quoth he? yes goodman flateap said Strangwidge, we ask to whom you speak▪ she quoth he, I speak to a velvet slave, a stiken slave, with that Stuteley puld out his Dagger and began to strike at the fellow, which one of his fellows séeing, slung a Last at his head and feld him to the ground: Strangwidge thereupon drew his sword, but by that time the fellow had took down his Sword and Buckler, and so well defended himself, that Strangwidge could do him no hurt.

But Peachie hearing a noise in the step, asked the cause of the quarrel his servants told him they gave the Iournemen til language, whereupon Peache went unto them, saying, how now Captains, how grew this quarrel between you and my men?

Thy men quoth Stuteley, Thy Rogues, and thy self is no better: sir you wrong me sayes Peachie, and get you gon from my door, for I tell you Stuteley and Strangwidge both, that I kéep forty good fellows in my house, that in respect of their manhood may be your equals. Ile tell thee what Peacie, if we two beat not thee and thy forty men, I durst be hang'd up at thy door. Fie, fie quoth Peachie, dare you two take five? [Page] take that and try quoth Strangwidge, and therewithall gave him a sound blow upon the ear: nay this is too much quoth Peachie, put up this and put up all: Stuteley and Strang­widge if you be men meet me in Lincolns Inne fields pre­sently: Content said they▪ and so they went their wayes. Pea­chie fetching straight his Sword and Buckler, and call'd his man John Abridges, and so into the fields they went, where they met wich these lusty Cavaleers. The two Captains seeing him come onely with one man, ask'd if there were all the help he had? I will request no more quoth Peachy to beat you doth out of the fields.

Brag is a good dog quoth Stuteley, but tell us, hast thou made thy will? what if I have not quoth Peachie? why then quoth Strangwidge, for thy wife and childrens sake go home and do it, or get more help to preserve thy life.

What how now Master quoth John Abridges come you in­to the field to fight with women, for these be two disguised Butter-whore [...], that have more skill in scolding then sighting: shall we be thus outbrav'd quoth Stuteley, and therewith drawing their Weapons they fell to it lustily, where Peachy and his man so bravely laid about them that they beat both the Captains out of breath, in which tray Stuteley was wounded in the head, and Strangwidge in the Sword arm, but at last they were parted so prevent further mischief.

The Captains got them to the Surgeon, but Peachy and his man went directly home: and while they were dressing, Pea­chie sent to Stuteley a Handkerchief by one of his men, and by another a scarf to Strangwidge, by the third he sent a b [...]t [...]le of Aqua vi [...]ae, wishing them to be of good chear: The Cap­tains finding these favour's to be but stouts, were more gr [...]e­ved thereat then their hurt, and therefore with many disdain­full spéeches they refused his courtesie.

And you shall understand that afterward Peachies men by two and two at a time, did often méet and fight with them, and so narrowly would they watch them that they could be in no place at quiet for them, insomuch that the Captains sound fighting work enough and more then they willingly would so that they were seldom out of the Surgions hands.

[Page] Vpon a time it chanced that being upon a point of their voy­age to sea, Stuteley and Strangwidge having béen at Court, and newly come from my Lord-Admirals lodging, before they came to Chairing Crosse they were encountred by two of lusty Peachies men who presently drew upon them, and laid so a­bout them, that the two Captains were glad at length to house themselves for refuge: Now a plague on them quoth Stute­ley we shall never be quiet for these Queistrels? Captain Strangwidge there is no other shift but to séek their frindship, therefore to kéep our limbs sound against we go to Sea, it is best to use a means to quiet this grudge.

Then said Strangwidge it were good to do so if a man knew how: but you may be sure they will not easily be intreated, séeing we have abused them in spéech: and albeit they sent divers of their friends unto Master Peachy, and by his men, yet they would not yield, nor give consent to be appeased: so that the Captains were at length constrained to make sute to the Duke of Suffolk to take up the matter, who most ho­nourably performed their request, and so the grudge ended be­twixt them, to the great credit of Master Peachie, and all his men.

PEachies same running through England by means of the f [...]ays which he and his men had with Stuteley and Strang­widge, it made many of that occupation destrous to come to work with him. Among many other that were desirous of his service, the [...]e was one called Tom Drum that had a great desire to be his man, a very od fellow, and one that was sore in­fected with the sin of [...]oing: this boasting companion sitting in his Masters shop at Petworth, and séeing the Sun shine very fa [...], made no more adoe but suddenly shrowded up St. Huges bones and took down his pick-staffe, clapt his pack at his back and called for his Master, who coming into the shop and séeing his man prepard to be packing abroad, demanded [Page] the matter was that he followed not his business.

O Master quoth he, sée you not how swéetly the sun shines! well, and what then quoth his Master? Marry qd. [...] great mind to [...] the small birds sing, I called [...] forth so take my leave, and so bid you farewell, I hope [...] [...] in your hand.

Why no quoth his Master, thou wilt be sute to take an or­der for that, and therefore adue. God be with you good Ma­ster, and farewell all good fellows of the Gentle Craft, and therewith be departed.

The Iourneymen of the Town hearing that Tom Drum went away, they gathered themselves together to drink with him, and to bring him out of Town: and to this intent, up they go to the sign of the Crown, where they parted not till they had drunk a stand of Bear and Ale.

Which being done, they bring him a mile on his way, and then once again they drink to his good health, and to Chrispi­anus soul, and to all the good fellows of Kerbfoord, which be­ing done, Tom Drum being in a merry vain, and destrous to drive out the weary way, as he walks he begins thus plea­santly to sing.

The singing of this song awaked a young Gentleman whom sorrow had laid asléep on a gréen bank by the high wayes side. Now when he heard Tom Drum so trimly tune it on the way, raising himself from the sad ground, he awaited his coming, at whose sudden sight Tom Drum like one that had spied an Adder, and séeing him provided with a good sword and buck­ler, supposed he had béen one that waited for a purse: Good fellow quoth he, good morrow, but ill spéed: why say'st thou so quoth Harry? because said Tom by the light of the day thou [Page] may'st sée to passe beside me, and that by thy spéeding ill, I may spéed the better: what hast thou so much store of money said Harry that thou art loath to lose it?

No by my faith said Tom, I assure thée all my stock is but one poor penny. Why then quoth Harry if I were minded to assault thée, it should be more to rob thée of thy manhood then thy money: but tell me, what is that pack at thy back? said Tom they are St. Hughs bones: quoth Harry what is that? a commodity said Tom that I cannot misse, for they be my working-tooles.

Quoh Harry what occupation art thou of? sir quoth Tom, I am a Goldsmith that makes rings for womens héels: what meanest thou by that quoth Harry? I am said Tom of the the gentle Craft, vulgerly called a Shoomaker.

Happy thou art quoth Harry that thou hast a Trade to live by, for by that means thou carriest credit with thée in every place: but what is thy name quoth Harry: as for my name I am not a ashamed to tell it, for my name is a Noune sub­stantive that may be felt, heard, or understood, and to speak and tell the truth, my name is Thomas Drum, or Tom Drum chuse you whether: Well Thomas quoth Harry I perceive thou art a good fellow, therefore I will open néed unto thée.

I have quoth Harry béen unto my Parents untoward, not knowing when I was well, I wilfully came from them, and I have spent all my money, I have utterly undone my self, for I am not worth a great. Why then quoth Tom thou art not worth so much as goodman Luters lame Nag, for my Lord of Northumberlands Huntsman would have given ten groats for him to séed his Dogs: notwithstanding be of good chear, if thou wilt go to London with me I will bear thy charges, and I faith we will be merry at the next Town.

Alas quoth Harry how can that be, séeing you have but one penny? I tell thee quoth Tom, wert thou a Shoomaker as I am, thou might'st go with a single penny all England over, and at every good Town have meat, drink, and lodging of the best, and yet keep thy penny in store. Believe me quoth Harry that's more then any Tradesman else can do.

[Page] Tush quoth Tom Shoomakers will not sée one another lack for it is their custome, if a good fellow comes to Town, if he wants either meat or money, making but his case known to them, they Iourneymen of that place will not only bid him welcome, but provide him all things necessary of frée cost. Verily qd. Harry I would spend half of my blood to be of the gentle Craft; Wilt thou say and hold sad Tom: or else said Harry hang me: then said he annoint me a Gentleman, and I will shape thée for a Shoomaker presently. Thereupon Harry took his knife, and cutting his finger, he all to be smear­ed Tom Drums face with his blood, that he made him look like the image of Breadstreet corner.

Tom Drum séeing him do so, said he might as well an­noint him a Ioyner as a Gentleman: Nay said Harry I do not deceive thée, if thou wilt not believe it, ask all the men in Malin and they will say the like.

Well Ile take thy word qd. Tom; and therefore look that presently you strip your self▪ for I will cast thée ino a Shoo­makers mould and that by and by. Harry perceiving his in­tention, did what he willed so he was suited in Toms attire, and Tom in his: so Harry took up St. Hughes bones, and so they came to Gilford where they were both taken for Shoo­makers and they was made very welcome by the Iourney­men of the Town, and they asked Harry if he could st [...]g, or play on the Flute or sound the Trumpet; believe me quoth Harry I can neither so and a Trumpet, nor play on the Flute, and beshrow his nose that made me a Shoomaker, for he never told me how to reckon up my Tools in rime or prose.

Tom hearing him say so, told them that he made him of an old Servingman a new Shoomaker: why then quoth they▪ we account this young man's wife that he can be take himself to a Mystery, but it will be hard for one not used to labour, to frame his fingers to a course faculty.

Not a w [...]it quoth Harry, for labour by custome becometh easie. 'Tis trus said Tom, for I durst lay a wager that I have made more shoos in a day then all th [...]se Iourneymen have done in a moneth; and I have travelled in all parts of the world: but tell me where thée hast been, and in what Countreys th [...]s h [...]st traveller.

[Page] Far enough quoth he, to prove as good a workman as thou art: I deny that quoth Tom for I have béen where I have séen men headed like Dogs, and others, I have séen that one of their legs hath béen as good as a Penthouse to cover their bo­dies, and yet I have made them shooes to serve their feet: nay if thou will go with me, thou shalt sée me make an hundred pair of shooes from sun rising to sun setting, or else count me worse then a stinking Mackrell. Now verily thy talk sti [...]s too much said they, if thou canst do so much as thou say'st, try the matter here.

No said Tom I cannot try it in England, nor in France, nor Spain, or Italy nor in Germany, Swedland or Polonia: we think no lesse said they, nor in no part beside. Yes said Tom I can do it as we travel to Russia, for there every day is five and fifty of our dayes in length: nay quoth Tom in some parts of the world where I have béen, it is day for half a year toge­ther, and other part all night.

Now my Masters tell me, were you not born in Arcadia? no said they; but why ask ye? because said Tom that Coun­trey abounds with Asses, where they swarm like Bees: we have cause said they to give yo thanks for calling us Asses so kindly: not so said Tom; I did but ask a question: but tell me said Tom, what Country breeds the best hides, and whence have we the best Cork? the best Cork said they comes from Portugal, and the best Leather is in England. Not so, for the best Cork is in Sparta, and for Leather there's none like that of Siciona, where I have made a paire of shooes that hath la­sted a twelve moneth and toyle in them every day: For I tell you there was never a Shoomaker in all England that kept so many men as I did at that time.

Then said the rest he speaks he knows not what: for Ma­ster Peacy of Fleetstreet keeps continually forty men at work, and the green King in S. Martins hath no lesse then threescore Iourneymen.

Tush said Tom, what say you to him who kept a hundred men half a year together and never did a stitch of work, he was a Shoomaker of some account? but who was that said they? it was my self quoth Tom, and yet I never made brags of it: [Page] nay pray you tell us said they what men they were? quoth Tom they were vermin: in troth said they we thought as much: But tell us Tom, art thou minded to be Master Pea­chies man? I am quoth he except he will make me his fellow. By the Masse said they, then wert thou best to have thy wards ready, and thy hi [...]ts sure for he receives no servants before he tries their manhood, so much the better quoth Tom: And for that purpose I post up to London; thus having had at Gilford very good chéer, but the Iourneymen of the Town paid for all, and gave them money, so toward London they went with all speed.

YOu shall understand that at this time there lived a gal­lant Knight called Sir John Ransford, who was for his courage inferiour to few, and had a brave company of tall men to wait upon him. He was very charitable to the poor, relieving them daily: he was a famous Courtier, and in very great favor with the King; and the only thing that disgraced his vertues was this, that he was something wild in his car­riage, and wilfull in his attempts; often repenting sadly what he committed rashly.

It came to passe upon a time as he was riding to his house, there was at a certain Village a Corps carried to be buried, the deceased Father of five small Children, and the Husband of a wofull widdow, whose poverty was such, that she had not money to pay for her buriall; Sir John the Parish Priest doubting would not do his duty except he might first have his money.

The widdow with many tears intreated him to do his Of­fice, but he would not, saying,

[Page] What you beggers, would you have me to open my sacred lips to call upon the King of heaven to receive or take thy husbands soul, and to perswade our Grandmother the Earth to wrap his cold body in her warm bosome for nothing? I tell thee no: The poor widow falling on her knées▪ pluckt him by the gown saying, good Sir John for sweet St. Cha­rity say one Ave Mary, or one Pater-noster, and let my poore husbande Corps be covered, though it be but with one hand­full of holy ground.

Nay Dame quoth Jack do you remember how you serv'd me at the last shift; you would not, no forsooth you would not: and now good Mistris I will not, no penny, no Pater noster▪ that is flat; I thought a time would come at length to cry quittance for your coyness, so away he went.

The poor Widdow séeing his obstinacy, with a heavy heart turned into the highway side adjoyning to the Church-yard, and there she and her Children begg [...]d of the passers by some money to bury their Fathers dead Corps.

At last Sir John came riding with all his men, of whom the poor Widdow in this manner began to ask his Arms: good Sir John, if ever womans misery moved your heart to pifty, give me one penny for Gods sake, towards the bury­ing of my poor husband: Sir John hearing their lamentable cry, and séeing the dead Corps lying there, asked why the Priest did not bury it?

O Sir quoth she▪ I have no money to pay for the burial, and therefore he will not do it, no quoth Sir John? Ile make him [...]ury the dead, or Ile bury him alive: whereupon be willed one of his men to go and fetch the Priest and bring him immediately, his men did so, and forth came the Priest in his Gown and corner Cap, roughly demanding who would speak with him?

That would I, quoth Sir John Rainsford, and therefore tell me how it comes to passe that you put not this Corps into the Pit? Sir quoth he, because they will not pay me for my pains.

Above all men, said Sir Iohn. Priests should respect the poor and néedy; and let the dead possess their due; I so they [Page] shall, said the Priest, so I may not lose my due: wilt thou not bury him said the Knight: no, not without money said the Priest: I pray thee said the Knight let me intreat thée to bury him: then do you pay me quoth the Priest? Sir Iohn Rainsford séeing him so peremptory, swore a great oath, that if he did not bury the dead Corpe, he would bury him alive: a fig for you go bury blind Byard when he is dead. The Knight when he heard these words, was marvellous an­gry, he commanded his men to take him up and put him into the grave and they took up the Priest and wrapped him to his Gown and put him quick into the grave, and cast the earth upon him: the Priest cry'd out hold for Christs [...]ake, and l [...]t me rise and I will bury the head for nought? no said the Knight, no rising till the general resurrection: the Knigh sent for a nother Priest to bury the corps which he did for nothing: which being done, he gave the poor woman ten shillings, and so returned homewards.

When Sir Iohn came home, he told his Lady what he had done, his Lady being grieved thereat, wisht he had paid for twenty burials, then made that one burial: 'tis done now said the Knight, and it cannot be undone again, though I kill my self with grief.

The Dean of the Diocess bearing of it rode presently up to London and complain'd to the King, which when his grace heard, he was very wroth and sent down Pursedants to ap­prehead the Knight, but he before had forsaken his house, and wandred disguised up and down the Countrey, where he chan­ced betwixt Gilford and London, to [...]ght into the company of Harry Nevel and Tom Drum: but Harry viewing him well in the face, descryed what he was, and marvelling much to see him in such distresse, made himself not known, but sounded him in this sort.

Sir quoth he whether do you wander or to what place do [...] travel: Gentle youth said he you may rather ask wh [...]refore I travel, and then I might answer your question? [...] quoth Tom I [...] lay a [...] to of Ale the Peasant is in love. Nay quoth Sir Iohn, if thou had'st said I travel'd with [...], thou ha [...]st said [...]ight. Tush said Tom, bridle these foolish p [...]s­sions: The Knight too [...] great comfort at his words, and [Page] having store of Gold about him, made them great chear at Kingstone, and in the end was content to take their counsel, and coming into Fleet-street, Tom Drum brought them to Peachies house, where such means was used, that at last upon the trial of their manhood, they were all entertained; and so well Peachy liked of Sir John, that he vowed he should not be his man but his fellow.

Within short time after the French-men had landed in the Isle of Wight with about too thousand men of Warre, who in several places of that Countrey burned and spoiled many Towns and Villages to the great losse and ruine of that Isle­land.

Our King hearing of the sad dealings of the French-men in that Island, presently raised an Army together. Peachy that famous and renowned Shoomaker, at his own proper cost and charhes set forth thirty of his servants, gallantly mounted, and well armed and furnished for all assayes, and Peachie himself like a most noble and valiant Captain over them, mustred them before the King, who liked of them so well, that he chose seven out of that Company for to be of his own Life-Guard; at which time Sir Iohn in disguised manner behaved himself so gallantly and Souldier-like shewed there such good service for the King and his Countreys good, that thereby he gained his Majesties Royal favour, and was af­terwards by him most graciously pardoned for his for­mer faults.

Peachie of Fleet-greet for his Loyaly to his King was after­wards made his Majesties Shoomaker▪ who lived long after that in great favour, and in high estimation with his Sacred Majesty, and in great favour with all the honourable Lords, of the Court.

THere lived in Fleet-street at this time a fair widdow, who was famous for her beauty, as she was estéemed for her wealth; she was beloved of many Gentlemen, and sued unto by divers Citizens, but so déep was the memory of her late husband ingraver in her heart, that she utterly refused mar­riage.

Harry Nevell having his heart fired with the bright beams of this blazing Comet, sought all means possible to quench the heat thereof: Tom Drum perceiving, demanded the cause of his late conceived grief, saying how now Hall, what wind blows so bleak on your chéeks now? hath Cupid the blind slave given thée a bloody nose, or a broken head? Oh, no Tom said he, that little Tyrant ayms at no other part but the heart, therefore 'tis not my head but my heart that bleeds. With [Page] whom Hall, with whom art thou in love, tell me man? if I bewray your secrets, call me dogs nose, and spit in my face like a young Kitling.

I tell thée Harry, I am holden in greater account among women then you are awa [...]e, and they will more willingly shew their secrets to me, then to their Ghostly Father: But art thou so in favour with pretty w [...]nches quoth Harry?

Yes Sir, quoth Tom, and I tro I have not liv'd thus long but I know how to make a woman love me, by a cunning trick that I have: I durst lay my life I will make a dozen maids run after me twenty miles for one nights lodging, stri­ding who should first bestow her maiden-head on me.

That trick surpasses all that ever I heard, said Harry.

Nay quoth Tom, Ile tell thee what a merry prank I plaid once, God forgive me for it: upon a time, on a Saterday in the morning I went into East cheap on purpose to spy what pre [...]ty wenches came to Market were I spied a great many as fresh as flowers in May, tr [...]pping up and down the stréets with hand-baskets on their arms, with stamme [...] Petticoats, and Lilly white Aprons: I did but carry the right leg of a Turtle under my left arm, and immediately the wenches were so inamored with my sight, that they forsook the But­chers shops and enticed me into the tavern, and spent all their money in merriment, that th [...]y should have laid out at the Market; and I had much adoe to be rid of them, for they were ready to go together by the ears for the kisses they would be­st [...]w upon me.

But qd. Harry, your Art may fail now to help me at a dead list: Not so said Tom, therefore if there be any in this street that thou hast a mind to, thou shalt carry but the head of a dead Crow about thée, thou shalt bring her to thy bed, were it f [...]ne Mistris Farmer her self. But art thou acquaint­ [...]d with her quoth Harry, or dost thou think thou could'st pre­fer a friend to her spéech? I said Tom, why I tell thée, I am more familiar with her, then with Doll our Kitchen-drudge, for she will do any thing at my request, nay, in some sort I can command her: I assure thee quoth Harry th [...]se are high [...]; and I much wonder you being a young man will not [Page] séek a wife that is so wealthy, and so make thy self famous by marrying Mistris Farmer, for it is likely she could well away to make him her husband, to whom she so much opens her hearts secrets.

Tis true quoth Tom, and I know that if I spoke but half a word she could never deny me: Nay, she would spend ten of her twelve silver Apostles on condition I would vouchsafe to be her husband. But wot you what Harry, it is well known though Lillies be faire in show, they be foule in smell, and women as they are beautiful, so they are deceitful: besides, Mistris Farmer is too old for me.

Too old quoth Harry? why man, she is not so old as Chair­ing Crosse: for in my conscience I think, that since her fair eyes beheld the bright sun, she never tasted of the fruits of twenty flourishing Sommers, therefore her age néed be no hurt to her marriage.

I will tell thée my mind quoth Tom, after that a woman is past sixtéen or seventeen years old, I would not give fif­teen blew buttons for her. But tell me Harry, and that tru­ly, dost thy like her? and if thou dost, say so, and I will war­rant her thine own.

Gentle Tom Drum quoth Harry, be but as good as thy word and do but prefer me to her acquaintance, and I will request no greater a courtesie. Here is my hand quoth Tom Drum, it shall be done: The day being set down, Harry had prepared himself a faier suit of apparel against the time, and Tom Drum in like sort had drest himself in the best manner; still bearing Harry in hand, telling him that none should be more welcomer to her then himself. The day being come Tom takes Harry by the hand, and coming to the widdows door, Tom falls a ringing of the Bell as if he had been mad, the Printice came to the door and asked who was there: it is I said Tom, open the door, for I must speak with your Mi­stris, stay then and will tell her said the boy, and leaving him at the door, where he sate till he was almost starved. Quoth Harry, whatsoever your credit is with the Mistris I know not, but with the man it is very small. Tush quoth Tom, I will once again use the help of a Bell-rope.

[Page] At his second ringing, out comes one of his maids, saying, who the Divel is at the door which kéeps such a ringing? why 'tis, I you quean said he, who Tom Drum quoth she what would you have? I would speak with your Mistris said he; trust me you cannot said she, for she is at supper with two or thrée that be Sutors: the one is Doctor Burket, and Alder­man Jarvice the other.

Tush quoth Tom, tell me not of Sutors, but tell her that I am hear and then 'tis well enough: well I will quoth she, so claps to the door again and kéeps them both out of doors. Now said Harry, this gear work but illfaverdly, for you are little beholding to the maids for ought I sée: 'tis no matter Harry said he, but if their Mistris should know this she would swinge their coats soundly for it; and with that one of the boyes ope­ning the door, told Tom his Mistris would have him send up his errand, what is she so stately that she cannot come down? I knew the time when she would have béen glad to have spo­ken with me; I quoth the fellow it may be so, when that you have brought her shooes that have pinched her toes. Come Harry said Tom I will go up and speak with her: quoth the fellow but you shall not, therefore kéep back and come you not here.

Tom Drum séeing himself thus disgrac'd before his fellow Harry (being very angry) askt if this were the best enter­teinment which they could afford their friends? and then be­gan to strugle with them, which their Mistris hearing, ro [...]e from the Table to know what the matter was, who being certified of Tom Drums sawcinesse, she began to check him, why fellow quoth she, what art thou mad? what hast thou to say to me, that thou art thus importunate? no hurt said he, but that this Gentleman and I would bestow a pot [...]ls of Wine to have two or thrée hours talk with you.

I tell thée said she, I am not now at leasure therefore ho­nest fellow trouble me no more. What quoth he are you grown so coy? if you and I were alone I should find you a little milder, must no man but Doctor Bu [...]ket cast your wa­ter? is his P [...]sick in most request? well I will be bet­ter en [...]ertained ere I go, for there is never a Flemming of [Page] them all shall out-face me: Mistris Farmer séeing him so fu­rious, answered he should have present entertainment accord­ing to his desert: whereupon she made no more adoe but bid her servant thrusts him out by the head and shoulders, which they presently performed: but Harry was by her very modest­ly answered, that if he had any spéech with her, the nex day he should be patiently h [...]ard, and genly answered: with which words he departed, and going home he told Tom Drum he was beholding to him for preferring his sute to Mistris Farmer: surely you are in high favor with fair women, as it séemed by your entertainment.

Well quoth Tom, stout on, but Ile lay my life had I not brought thee with me, no man should have had more welcome then I: and now I remember my self that she was displeased that I should make another co-partners of her presence: and I remember an old proverb that love and Lordship brooks no fellowship: when the Iourneymen heard of this Tom Drums entertainment was spoke of every where, and so it becomes a proverb, that were it is supposed a man shall not be wel­come, they'l say he is like to have Tom Drums entertain­ment.

Now to avoid their flouts Tom Drum forsook Fleetstreet, and went into Scotland, being prest for a Drummer at Mus­kelbrough field, where the noble Duke of Sum [...]erset, and the Earl of Warwick w [...]re sent with a noble Army, where Eng­lish and Scots meet, there was fought a cruel battel, the vi­ctory fell to thee English, at which time there was slain of the Scots fourtéen thousand, fiftéen hundred taken priso­ners, where we shall leave Tom Drum till his return: ma­king mention how Harry Nevel bevaved himself in the mean time in London.

MIstris Farmer for her rare beauty was wondrously woo­ed by Doctor Burket, who did give to her many rich and costly gifts, yet Mistris Farmer would hardly accept them, least by his cunning he should insert therein more matter then ordinary that might move any motion of love contrary to her natural inclination.

Vpon a time Harry Nevel coming thither, and finding the Doctor very diligent to bréed the Widdows content, plotted how he might cast out the Doctor and so prefer his own suite, at last lighting on a device fit for the purpose: there was an G [...]iptian woman at Black [...]Wall who was in travel with child, and could not be delivered by the Midwives thereabout, [Page] Harry Nevel hearing of it, thought it fit to imploy Doctor Burbet about it, who in the mean time might the better pre­fer his own suite to the Widdow.

Whereupon he sent one to him attired like a servingman, booted and spurred, who coming to the Widdows house he askt for Doctor Burket, what would you have with him said the Maids? quoth he my Lady Sunborne hath sent for him in post hast, and therefore I must néeds speak with him: the Maid presently went and to [...]d him, when Doctor Burket heard, he took his leave of the Widow, and came to the messen­ger, saying, how now fellow, what wou [...]d your Lady have with me? Sir said he, she desires you to come with all spéed, for she is wondrous sick: the Doctor presently took horse, and away he goes with the Servingman. Harry hearing of his departure, came to the Widdow with a smiling counte­nance, and merrily began to wooe her.

Fair Mistris quoth Harry, I know said he it is the custom of women at first to make their denial to their lovers, because they would not be accounted easily won or soon entreated: ut dear Lady, nature hath not adorned your face with such in­comparable beauty, and fram'd every part so excellently, to wound men with woe, but to work their content. Where­fore now swéet Mistris, in the April of your years, and the swéet summer of your dayes, banish not the pleasure incident to bright beauty, but honour me with the fair fruit of your womb, and make me blessed by being Father to the issue of your delicate body.

Nay then Sir said she I perceive yon will grow troublesome and shew your self no such men as you professe your self, and I may say your friendship is more in words then in déeds, and I perceive I must call my maid for a cup of yolding beer be­fore you will depart.

Nay Lady said he I will save you that labour, séeing your love commands me, and I pray God grant you in a favourable mind at our next méeting, and so he departed.

Now you shall understand that this gallant widdow had in her house a proper young man which was her Prentice, who long had born his Mistris good will; at last he declares his [Page] mind to a secret friends, who comforts him in this sort: Tush said she, what if she be thy Mistris? be not ashamed to shew thy affection to her, but try her, thou know'st not how fortune may savour thy suit. O quoth he, if I were out of my time I could have some heart to woe her.

P [...]sh stand not on those terms said his friend Francis, for she will never requite kindnesses with discourtesies, and therefore William be not too fearful.

The time at last being come that Mistris Farmer had ap­pointed to have her books cast up & she gets her to her closet, and whistles to her maid to bid William bring her up the books which very willingly he came to her, and said, Mistris quoth he, doubt not but that your estate is good, for I have béen as carefull and as just to keep it as if it had béen mine own. I am said she the more beholding to thee, neither shalt thy true service go unrewarded if I live, or if I dye thou shalt not be altogether forgotten.

These kind spéeches comforted Williams heart, whereupon be [...]ell to his reckonings roundly, till his mind running on his Mistrisses beauty, would misse and count three-score and four-score, nine score, there you misreckon fourty said she. O my dear Mistris blame me not if I do so, seeing your sweet presence hath made wiser then my self to dote: but pardon dear Mistris my presumption in being thus bold to unburthen my hearts affection to you▪ and therefore sweet Mistris de­spise not him who has been your faithfull fervant, but yeeld unto him your savour which may prolong his dayes with bles­sed years.

His Mistris with lowring looks made him this answer, how now sirra, hath my too much mildness made you so sa [...] ­cy, can you set your love on no lower pitch, but you must seek to be Master of your Mistris.

Hereupon she commanded her man Richard to take his place, and to be fore-man of the shop, and gracing him with the keys of her Closet: and commanding her man William to fetch her some Oysters and a pint of Claret Wine, and bring them to her Chamber, Will overjoy'd at these words, ran with all speed & brought them to her, & when she saw him, she [Page] with a smiling countenauce said, what Wilkin art thou come, that is well done bring them hither, said she, and the Manchet and Whitewine, yes forsooth, I will, and if you please I will open the Oysters for you, which he did, and opened faster then she could eat.

William said she, you are quick in opening of Oysters, yet [...] in costing up your Accounts: these words put William in mind of former passages, and made him more eager to re­new his suit to his dear Mistris, and said O my dear Mistris said William, [...] not a pleasant youth, and in the glory of his age to dye, which I shall, if you deny to grant to me your favor and to make me your husband.

She thereat seem'd very coy, and took it in disgrace (yet to herself had granted his request) that he profer [...]d such love and liking to her [...] to him, what has my familiarity made you so sawcy? at which words William seem'd to be angry, and said, nay Mistris said he, if you had been as willing to grant my request, as I have been forward to follow your precepts, I might long ere this enjoyed what I now have desired and therewithall he departed.

These words the seriously took into consideration and told her friends what had past between her man William and she, her friends being very willing and told her that he was a pro­per young man, and that [...]he might live more happily with him, then with Doctor Burket, or Harry Nevel: at which words the utterly renounces them too and resolves to live and dye with William.

William hearing her resolute answer spake thus to her; I see you have so freely granted my request, worthy I were to dye a begger, if I should refuse so [...] a treasure, and thereupon joyned their hearts and hands, and being married; they lived many happy dayes together.

TH [...]re dwelt in Saint Martins a jolly Shoomaker, he was commonly called the Green King▪ for that upon a time he shewed himself before King Henry, with all his men att [...]nding on him clothed all in gréen Sa [...]ten.

Th [...]s gréen King as they call'd him, he was a man very humourous, and of a small statute, but most valiant and cou­raious, and he continually used the Fencing-school; and when he went abroad he alwayes carried a two-handed sword on his shoulder, or under his Arm: he kept continually thirty or forty servants, and kept alwayes a gallant and a bountiful house as most men did in his time.

You may understand that in his young years his Father dying left him a good portion, so that he was in great credit and estimation among his neighbours, add that which made him more happy was this, that God blest him with the gift of a good wife, who was a very comely young woman, and therewithall very carefull for his commodity: but he who had his mind alwayes bent upon merriment, little respected his profit in regard of his pleasure; insomuch that through his wastfull expence, he brought po [...]erty upon himself before he was aware, so that he could not do as he was accustomed: which when his daily companions perceived, they by little and little would shun his company and if at any time he cha [...]sed for to passe by them, perhaps they would lend him a nod or too or it may be give him a good morrow, and make no more adde.

Is it so quoth the Gréen King, doth want of money part good company, or to my countenance so changed that they do [...]: know me? I have séen the day when never a kna [...]e of th [...]m all but would have made much of my dog for my sake, and would have given me twenty salutations on a Sunday morning if I would bestow but one pint of Muskadine upon them? and what, hath a thread bar [...] cloak scar'd from me all good fellows? why, though I have not my wonted habit, I [Page] [Page] [Page] have still the same heart: and though my money be gone, my mind is not altered; why then, what Iacks are they to reject me.

I, I, now I find my wifes tale true, for she was wont to say, husband, husband refrain these trencher flies, these smooth faced flatterers, that like Drones live upon the honey of your labour, and suck away the swéetness of your substance. I wi [...], I wi [...], if once you should come in want, there is not the best of them all that would trust you for ten greats: by which saying, I will lay my life she is a witch, for it is come as just to pass as Marlins Prophesie, for I would the other day but have borrowed twelve pence, and I try'd thirtéen friends and went without it: It being so, let them go hang th [...]mselves for I will into Flanders, that is flat, and leave these slaves to their servill conditions, where I will try whether a firkin barrel of butter be worth a pot of strong béere, and a load of Holland théese better then a gallon of Charnico: and if it be by the cross of this sword I will never stain my credit with such a base commodity again.

With that he went to his wife, saying, woman dost thou hear? I pray thée look well to thy business till I come again: for why? for to drive away melancholly, I am minded to walk a mile or two: but husband quoth she, were you there where you laid your plate to pawn? I pray you is it not misused? and is it safe? woman said he I was there, and it is safe Ile warrant thée for e [...]er coming into thy hands again, thou know'st I borrowed but twenty mark upon it, and they have sold it for twenty pound: 'tis gone wife, 'tis gone.

O husband said she, what ill fortune h [...]ve we to be thus ill dealt with all? and therewithall she wept: fie quoth he leave thy weeping, bang it up, let it goe, the best is, it [...]ever cost us a great; it is in vain therefore to mourn for the matter; he thereupon took his leave of his wife, bidding her look to the house, and sée that the boyes ploy their wor [...].

The Gréen King having thus taken his leave, went towards Billingsgate on purpose to take Barge, where by the way he met with Anthony now now: what, Master said he well met? I pray where are you walking? will you not have a crash ere you go?

[Page] Y faith Anthony quoth he, thou knowest that I was ever a good fellow, and one that never had béen a niggard to thée at any time, therefore now it thou wilt bestow any musick on me before I go, do, and if it please God that I return safely from Flanders again, I will requite thée well for thy pains. but at present I have no money for musick: Gods nigs said Anthony, whether you have money or no, you shall have Musick, I do not alwayes request coyn of my friends for my cunning: what, you are not every bo [...]y, and séeing that you are going beyond sea, I will bestow a pint of wine on you at the Salutation: say'st thou so Ahthony quoth he, in in good seeth I will not refuse thy courtesie, and with that they slept into the Tavern where Anthony cal'd for wine, and drawing for [...]h his Fiddle began to play, and after he had scrapt half a score lessons, he began to sing this merry song as followeth,

Loe ye now Master quoth he, this song have I made for your sake, and [...] the grace of God when you are gone I will sing it every Sunday morning under your wives win­dow, that she may know that we drank together ere we par­ted: [Page] I pray thée then do so said the gréen King, and I pray thée do my commendations to her, and tell her at my return I hope to make merry.

Thus after that they had made an end of their Wine, and paid their reckoning, Anthony putting up his Fiddle depart­ed, see king to change musick for money; whil'st the gréen King of St. Martins sailed in Gravesend Bargs. But An­thony in his absence sung this song so often in St. Martins, that ever after that he purchased a name which he never lost till his dying day, for ever after that men call'd him nothing but Anthony now now.

But it is to be remembred that the gréen Kings wife be­came so carefull in her business, and goverded her self with such wisdom in all h [...]r affairs, that during her husbands ab­sence she did not only pay many of his debts, but also got into her house every thing that was necessary to be had; the which her diligence won such commendations in so much that her credit in all places was very good, and her gains (through Gods blessing) came so flowing in, that before her husband came home, she was had in good reputation with her neigh­bours, and having no néed of any of their Favours, every one was ready to p [...]offer her courtesie, saying, good neighbor if you want any thing tell us, and look what friendship we may do you, be sure you shall find it.

I neighbour quoth she. I know your kind [...]esse, and may speak thereof by experience, wrll may I compare you to him that would never bid any man to dinner, but at two of the cl [...]ck in the afternoon when he was [...]ssured they had fi [...]d their bellies before, and that they would not touch his meat, ex­cept for manne [...]s sake: wherefore for my part I will give you many thanks for your kindnesses when I take benefit of your p [...]offer,

Why neighbour we speak for your good quoth they: Tis true quoth she▪ and so say they that call for wi [...]e to bestow on a drunken man when they know it will do him as much good in his boots as his belly.

Well neighbour said they, God be thanked that you have no cause to make use of any of your friends: Marry Amen [Page] quoth she, for if I had, I think I should find few there; these and the like gréetings were often betwixt her and her negh­bours.

At last her husband came home, and to his great comfort found his Estate so good, that he had great cause to bless God for the same, for a warm purse is the best medicine for a cold [...] that may be.

The gréen King therefore boasting himself as brave as ever he did, ha [...]ing sworn himself a faithful companion to his two-handed sword, would never go without it.

Now when his ancient acquaintance saw him again so gallant, every one was ready to curry [...]avour with him, and many would proffer him Wine. And where before they were wont to thrust him to the kennell; and nothing respect­ing his poverty, they give him now the upper hand in every place, saluting him with cap and knée: But he remembring how slightly they set by him in his néed, did now as slightly estéems▪ heir [...]l [...]ttery, saying,

I cry you mercy, me th [...]nks I take séen your face, but I never knew you for my friend. No quoth one, I dwell at Al­dersgate, and am your néer neighbour▪ and so much the worse said the Gréen King: wherefore quoth the other? because said he, I think the place is méet for an honester man, I trust sir you know no hurt by me.

Nor any goodnesse quoth the green King but I remember you are be, or one of them of whom once I would have bor­rowed forty pence, yet could not get it if thereby I might have saved forty lives: therefore goodman [...]og, or good man cog, or good man dog, chuse you whether, scrape no acquaintance of me, nor come any more in my company, I would advise you least with my long sword I chop off your coward legs▪ and make you stand like Saint Martins begger upon two stilts. The fellow bearing him say so, went his wayes, and never durst speak to him afterward.

THe Gréen King being a man much given to go abroad, his Wife upon a time thus made her moan to him; hus­band quoth she, I think you are the unkindest man alive, for as often as yon walk abroad, you were never the man that did once take me in your company: it is no small grief unto me, while I sit doting at home every sunday and holy day, and to sée how other men walk with their wifes, and lovingly hear them company into the fields, that thereby they may have some recreation after their weeks weary foyle; this pleasure have they for their pains, but I poor soul could ne­ver get such a courtesie at your hands: either it must needs be that you love me but little, or else you are ashamed of my company, and I tell you true you have no reason for the one or the other.

[Page] Well quoth he my dear, séeing you are so desirous to walk a broad with me, Thursday next is Saint Iames's day against which time prepare your self to go with me to the Fair, where by the grace of God I will bestow a fat Pig upon you, and there I mean to be merry, and doubt not but that I will walk with you till you are weary of walking. Nay quoth the I should never be weary of your company though I went with you to the worlds end: God a mercy for that wife said he, but so doing, I doubt I should try you a very good foot­woman or a bad flatterer.

Thus it past till Thursday was come, and in the mean season méeting with two or thrée other Shoomakers, he asked them if they would walk with him and his wife to Saint Iames's Faire, that we will with all our hearts said his fellow Shoomakers: but will you not like flinchers go back from your words quoth the gréen King? To that (they said) which if they did they would forfeit unto him a gallon of wine.

Tush said the gréen King, talk not to me of a gallon of wine, but will you be bound in a bond of twenty pound a peece to perform it?

Why quoth the Shoomakers, what néeds bands for such a matter as this, we hope that you will take our words for a great deal more then this?

My Masters said the gréen King, the world is grown to that pass, that word [...] are become wind, and I will trust you as little on your word, as long Meg on her honesty, therefore if you will be bound in a bond so, if not, I will make no ac­count of your company.

The Shoomakers hearing these words, and they knowing him to be a man of a merry mind, after that they had washed their wits well with Wine to the Scriveners they went, and there they bound themselves in twenty pound bond according to his request.

They had no sooner made amend of this merry match, but presently into another Tavern they get, and who should they méet but that merry companion Anthony now now, who as soon as he spied the gréen King, he smiled with a wry [Page] [...], but joyfully imbraced him with both his hands, say­ing, what my dear Master, well are you met said Anthony, and pray you Sir when came you from the other side of the water, by my troth you are welcome, and I am glad to see you with all my heart.

God a mercy good Anthony said the green King, but how comes it to passe that you go not so often into Saint Martins as you were wont to do?

O Master said Anthony, you may remember what song I made at your parting when you went to Graves end.

Yes marry said the gréen King, and what of that? quoth he, by singing that under your window, all the merry Shoo­makers in Saint Martins have got it by the end, and now with their so often singing it up and down amongst their jo­vial crew, that they have made it as common as a Printed Ballad, and by their so doing I have gotten such a name by it, that into what place soever I go, I am called nothing but Anthony now now.

And now Master Ile tell you, that by these merry Shoo­makers meanss it hath made me as well acquainted in all Cheapside and other places about the City as the Cat in the Cream-pan; for as soon as ever the Goldsmiths Wives spy me they will hold up their fingers and cry O yonder goes An­thony now now that merry companion, and this is thier pra­ting as I go along.

And when I come amongst the Merchants Daughters, those merry prettey wanton wags will laugh at me whil'st they are ready to bespiss themselves, and call me to them say­ing come Anthony now now play us a fit of musick sayes one; come Anthony sing us a merry song sayes another, so that I cannot pass up and down the stréets by the means of these merry wag-tails, insomuch that now the little boyes in the stréet will have a fling at my tayle, and take my name in vain, and say O yonder goes Anthony, O yonder goes An­thony now now, and so they run up and down after me like a sort of Pismires: good Lord, good Lord, you never knew the like: hear ye me now my good Master? and I will tell you, that since you departed from me and took your journey [Page] beyond Sea, that by singing of that song so often [...] Wifes window, that I have gotten more pence then your wife has pins,

And now my Master séeing you are come again and safely arrived from your dangerous voyage from Sea, I will ere long make the second part.

But now the gréen King is no sooner returned from his voy­age beyond Sea, but his wife solicites him to take a journey into the Countrey & to take her along with him, for since he had her to Saint James's Fair, she was so well pleased with him, that she could go with him to the worlds end.

The Gréen King therefore being willing to give his wife content, he is resolved to take her with him to Bristol, and connsidering what company he shoud get to go with him to passe away the tedious journey, at last he méeting with An­thony now now, who no sooner did his Master ask him the question, but presently he gives his consent, and immediately Anthony get his Fiddle and away they take their Iourney, and merrily they march and at every Town they come at Anthony pulls out his Fiddle and playes as he goes, which the Countrey people much admiring at his mirth and merry conceits, they were very desirous to have him stay with them, but Anthony not willing to leave his Master and Mistris, de­sired them to excuse him; so he continued this mirth and mer­riment untill they came to Bristol: where playing up and down at several [...] in the Town, he gave the people a great deal of content, and got as great a name there as he did in the City of London, so that he could not passe upon down the stréets; they would cry, O yonder goes Anthony now now. And so having got the praise of the Countrey, he returns back with the gréen King and his wife unto the City of Lon­don who in a short time after fell dangerously sick, and how he escaped that s [...]ickness, and other merry exploits he played afterwards, we shall mention when we come to write the third part,