The Visiter.

AN honest youth not many yeares since, seruant in this City, had leaue of his master at whitson­tide to see his friends who dwelt some fifty miles from London. It hapned at a Country wake, his mother and hee came acquainted with a precise scholler, that vnder colour of strickt life, hath bin reputed for that hee is not: hee is well knowen in Paules Churchyard, and hath beene lately a visiting in Essex (for so he presumes to tearme his cosening walks: and therefore wee will call him here a Visiter. This honest seeming man must needes (sith his iourney lay to London) stay at the yong mans mothers all the holy daies: where as on his desert hee was kindly vsed: at length, the young man hauing receiued his mothers blessing, with other his friendes giftes amounting to some ten poundes, was to this hypocrite as to a faithful guide committed, and to­ward London they ride: by the way this Visiter discourses how excellent insight he had in Magick, to recouer by Art any thing lost or stolne. Well to sant Albons they reach, there they sup to­gether, and after the carowsing of some quarts of wine they go to bed where they kindly sleepe, the Visiter slily, but the young man soundly: Short tale to make out of his bedfellows sleeue, this Visiter conuaid his twenty Angels besides some other od siluer, hid it closely, and so fell to his rest. Morning comes, vp get this couple, immediately the money was mist, much adoo was made the Chamberlaine with sundry other seruants exa­mined, and so hot the contention, that the goodman for the dis­charge of his house was sending for a Constable to haue them both first searcht, his seruants Chests after. In the meane time the Visiter cals the yong man aside, and bids him neuer grieue but take horse, and he warrants him ere they be three miles out of towne to helpe him to his money by Art, saying. In these Innes ye see how we shall be out faced, and beeing vnknowne, how euer we be wrongd get litle remedy: the yong man in good hope desired him to pay the reckoning, which done together they ride. Being some two miles from the towne, they ride out of the ordinary way: there he tels this youth, how vnwilling hee was to enter into the action, but that it was lost in his company, and so forth. Well a Circle was made, wondrous words were vsed, many muttrings made at length hee cries out, vnder a [...]reene turfe, by the East side of an Oake, goe thither, got thither: this thrice he cryed so ragingly as the yuong man gest him mad, and was with feare almost beside himself. At length pau [...]ng quoth this Visiter heard ye nothing cry. Cry said the yong man, yes [Page] you cride so as for twise ten pound I would not heare ye again. Then quoth he, tis all well, if ye remember the words: the yong man repeated them. With that this shifter said, Go to the fur­thest Oke in the high way towards S. Albons, and vnder a greene turre on the hither side lyes your mony, and a note of his name that stole it. Hence I cannot stirre till you returne, ney­ther may either of our horses be vntide for that time, runne yee must not▪ but keepe an ordinary pace. Away goes the yong man gingerly, and being out of sight, this copesmate takes his cloke­ [...]ag, wherein was a faire sute of apparel, and setting spurres to his horse was ere the Nouice returned ridde cleane out of his view The yong man seeing himselfe so c [...]ssened, made patience his best remedie, tooke his horse and came to London, where yet it was neuer his lucke to meet this visiter.

A Shifter.

A Shifter not long since going ordinarily booted, got leaue of a Carrier to ride on his owne hackney a little way from London, who comming to the [...]une where the Carier that night should lodge, honestly set vp the horse, and entred the hal, where were at one table some three and thirty clothiers, al re­turning to their seuerall countries. Vsing as he could his cur­tes [...]e, and being Gentleman-like attirde, he was at all their in­stance placed at the vpper end by the hostesse. After hee had a while eaten he fel to discourse with such pleasance, that all the table were greatly delighted therewith. In the midst of supper enters a noise of musitions, who with their instruments added a double delight. For them hee requested his hostesse to laye a shoulder of mutton and a couple of capons to the fire, for which he would pay, & then mooued in their behalfe to gather. Among them a noble was made, which he fingring, was well blest, for before he had not a crosse, yet he promist to make it vp an angel. To be short, in comes the reckoning, which (by reason of the fi [...]e fare & excesse of wine amounted to each mans halfe crown. Then hee requested his hostesse to prouide so many possets of sacke as would furnish the table, which he would bestow on the Gentlemen, to requite their extraordinary costs: & [...]estingly askt if she would make him her deputie to gather the reckoning she graunted and he did so: and on a sodaine (faining to hasten his hostesse with the possets) he tooke his cloke, and finding fit time hee slipt out of doores, leauing the guestes and their hostesse to a new reckoning, & the Musitians to a good supper, but they paid for the sauce. This test some vntruly attribute to a man of ex­cellent parts about London but he is slandered: the party that performed it hath scarce any good qualitie to liue. Of these sort & could set downe a great number, but I leaue you now vnto those which by Maister Harman are discouered.

A Rufflar.

THE Rufflar, because he is first in degree of this odious order, and is so called in a statute made for the punishment of Vacabonds, in the xxvii. yeare of K. Henry the eight late of most famous memorie: he shall be first placed as the worthiest of this vnruly rabblement. And hee is so called when he goeth first abroad, either he hath serued in the warres, or else he hath beene a seruingman, and wearie of well dooing, and shaking off all paine, doth chuse him this idle life and wret­chedly wanders about the most shires of this realme. And with stout audacitie, he demaundeth where he may be bolde, and cir­cumspect inough, as he seeth cause to aske charitie, rufully and lamentably, that it would make a flinty heart to relent, and pi­tie his miserable estate, how he hath bene maymed & brused in the warres, and peraduenture some will shew some outwarde wound, which hee gotte at some drunken fray, either halting of some priuie wound festered with a fiery f [...]ankard. For bee well assured that the hardiest soldiers be either slaine or maymed, or if they escape all hazards, and returne home againe, if they bee without releef [...] of their friends, they will surely desperatly rob and steale, and either shortly be hanged, or miserably die in pri­son: for they bee so much ashamed and disdaine to begge or aske charitie, that they wil as desperately fight for to liue and main­taine themselues, as manfully and valiauntly they ventured themselues in the Princes quarrell. Now these Rufflars, the out-casts of seruing-men, when begging or crauing failes, then they picke and pylfer from other inferiour beggers that they meet by the way, as Roges, Pallyards, Mortes, and Doxes. Yea if they meet with a woman alone riding to the market, ey­ther olde man or boy that hee well knoweth will not resist, such they [...]itch and spoyle. These Rufflars after a yeare or two at the furthest become vpright men, vnlesse they bee preuented by twinde hemp [...].

[Page]I had of late yeares an olde man to my tennant, who custo­mably a great time went twise in the weeke to London, either with fruit or with pescods, when time serued therefore: And as he was comming homeward on blacke-heath, at the end thereof next W Shooters hill, he ouertooke two Rufflars, the one man­nerly waiting on the other as one had beene the maister, and the other the man, or seruant carrying his maisters Cloke, this old man was very glad that he might haue their company ouer the hill, because that he had made a good market, for he had sea­uen shillings in his purse, and an old angell, which this poore man had thought had not beene in his purse, for hee willed his wife ouer night to take out the same angell, and lay it vp vntill his comming home againe, And he verely thought that his wife had so done which indeede forgot to doe it, Thus after salutati­ons, had this maister Rufflar entered into communication with this simple old man who riding softly beside them, commoned of many matters. Thus feeding this old man with pleasant talke, vntill they were on the top of the hill, where these Rufflars might well behold the Coast about them cleare: Quickly steps vnto this poore man, and taketh hold on his horse bridle, and leadeth him into the wood, and demaundeth of him what and how much money he had in his purse. Now by my troth quoth this old man you are a merry gentleman, I know you meane not to take away any thing from me but rather to giue me some if I should aske it of you. By and by this seruant thiefe, casteth the cloake that hee carried on his arme about this poore mans face, that he should not marke or view them, with sharpe words to deliuer quickely that he had and to confesse truely what was in his purse. This poore man then all abashed yeelded, and con­fessed he had but iust seauen shillings in his purse and the troth is he knew of no more, This old angell was fallen out of a lit­tle purse into the bottome of a great purse. Now this seauen shillings in white money they quickly found, thinking in deede that there had beene no more, yet farther groping and searching found this old angell. And with great admiration this gentle­man thief began to blesse him saying, Good Lord what a world is this, how may (quoth he) a man beleeue or trust in the same, se you not (quoth he) this old knaue he told me that hee had but seauen shillings, and heere is more by an angell, what an olde knaue and a false knaue haue we here quoth this Rufflar? Our Lord haue mercy on vs, will this world neuer bee better, and therewith went their way, and left the old man in the wood do­ing him no more harme. But sorrowfully sighing this olde man returning home declared his misaduenture, with all the words [Page] and circumstaunces aboue shewed. Wherat for the time was great laughing, and this poore man for his losses among his lo­uing neighbours well considered in the end.

A Vpright man. cap. 2.

A Vpright man the second in secte of this vnseemely sorte must be next placed, of these rainging rablement of ras­cols some be seruinge men, artificers, and laboring men traded vp to, husbandry: These not meaning to get their liuing, with the sweat of their face but casting of al paine, vvill vvan­d [...]r after their vvicked manner, through the most shyres of this realme.

As Sommerset shyre, Wil shyre, Barke shyre, Oxforde shyre, Harforde shyre, Middelsex, Essex, Suffolke▪ Northfolke, Sus­sex, Surry, and Kent, as the chiefe and best shyers of releife. Yea not vvithout punishment, by [...]ockes Whippinges, and imprisō ­ment in most of these places, aboue said: Yet not vvith standinge they haue so good liking in their levvde lecherous loyteringe, that full quiclye all their punishments is forgotten. And repen­tance is neuer thought vpon, vntill they clime three tres vvith a ladder: These vnruly rascols in their roylinge, disperse them selues, into seuerall companies, as occasion serueth, somtimes more and sometime lesse. As if they repaire to a poore husbād­mans house, he vvill goe alone or one vvith him and stoutly de­maund his charitie, either shevving hovv hee had serued in the vvarres, and their maymed, eyther that he seeketh seruice, and saieth he vvould be glad to take paine, for his liuing, althoughe he meaneth nothing lesse: Yf he be offered any meat or drinke, he vtterly refuseth scornefully, and vvill nought but money and yf he espie yong pigs or poultrie, he vvell noteth the place, & then the next night or shortly after, he vvill be sure to haue some of them, vvhich they bring to their stauling dens, which is their typpling houses, as well knowne to them according to the old prouerbe (as the begger knovves his dishe.) For you must vn­derstand euery Typpling ale house vvill neither receiue them or their vvares but some certaine houses, in euery shyre especi­ally for that purpose, vvhere they shalbe better vvelcome to thē than honester men. For by such haue they most gaine, and shall be conuayd eyther into some loft out of the vvay, or other secret corner not common to any other▪ and thither repayre at accusto­med times theyr harlots, vvhich they terme morts, and Doxes not vvith empty hands, for they be as skilfull in picking, riff­ling & [...]ching as the vpright men, and nothing inferior to them in all kinde of vvickednes, as in other places hereafter they shallbe touched. At these aforesayde peltinge peuish places and [Page] [...]nmannerly m [...]etings, O how the pots walke about, their ta [...] ­ling tongues talke at large: they bowle and bowse one to ano­ther, and for the time bowsing belly cheare. And after their roi­s [...]ing recreation, if there be not roome inough in the house, they haue clean straw in some barne or backe house neare adioining▪ where they couch comlie together as it were dogge and bitch, and he that is hardiest may haue his choise, vnlesse for a little good manners, some will take their owne that they haue made promise vnto, vntill they be out of sight, and according to the old adage (out of mind▪) Yet these vpright men stand so much vpon their reputation, as they wil in no case haue their women walk with them, but seperate themselues for a time a moneth or more and meet at faires or great markets, where they pilfer & steale from staules, shops or boothes. At these faires the vpright men vse commonly to lie, and linger in high wayes & by-lanes, some pretie way or distance from the place, by which wayes they bee assured that company passeth still to and fro: and there they will demaund with cap in hand and comly curtesie, the deuotion and charitie of the people: they haue beene much whipped at fairs. If they aske at a stout yeomans or farmers house his charitie, they will go strong, as some three or foure in a company, where for feare more than good will they often haue reliefe. They sel­dome or neuer passe by a Iustices house, but haue by waies, vn­lesse he dwell alone, & be but weakly manned, thither will they also go strong after aske subtill sort, as with their armes bound vp with a kercher or list, hauing wrapt about the same filthie clothes, or their legges in such sort be wrapped halting downe­right: not vnprouided of good cudgels, which they carrie to su­staine them, and (as they faine) to keep [...] dogs from them, when they come to such good Gentlemens houses. If any search bee made, or they suspected for pilfring of cloths, off hedges, or brea­king of houses, which they commonly do, when the owners bee either at the market, at the church, or otherwise occupied about their busines, or rob some s [...]ly man or woman by the high way, as many times they do. Then they hie them into woodes, great thickets, and other rough corners, where they lie lurking three or foure daies together, & haue meate and drinke brought them by their Mortes and Doxes: and while they thus lie hidden in couert, in the night they be not idle, neither (as the common sai­yng is) well occupied: for then as the wily Foxe creeping out of his den seeketh his pray for poultry, so do these for linnen and any thing els worth money, that lyeth about or neare a house as sometime a whole bucke of cloathes carried away at a time. When they haue a greater booty than they can carry awaie [Page] quickly to their stawling Kens, as is abouesaid. They will [...]ide the same for three daies in some thicke couert, and in the night time carry the same like good water Spaniels to their foresaid [...]ou [...]es, to whome they will discouer where or in what places they had the same, where the markes shal be picked out cleane, and conueyed craftily farre off to sell, if the man or woman of the house want money themselues. If these vpright men haue neither money nor wares, at these houses they shall bee trusted for their vittels, if it amount to twentie or thirty shillings. Yea if it fortune any of these vpright men, to be taken and suspected or charged with felonie or petie bribery, done at such a time or place, he will say he was in his hostes house. And if the man or wife of that house be examined by an officer, they boldly vouch, that they lodged him [...]ch a time, whereby the truth cannot ap­peare. And if they chaunce to bee retained into seruice through their lamentable words with any wealthie man: they will ta­rie but a small time, either robbing his maister, or some of his fellowes. And some of them vseth this policie, that although they trauaile into all these shires abouesaid, yet will they haue good credite, especially in one shire, where at diuers good Far­mars houses they be wel knowne, where they worke a moneth in a place or more, and wil for that time behaue themselues ve­rie honestly and painfully, and may at any time for their good vsage haue worke of them: and to these at a dead lif [...] or last re­fuge, they may safely repaire vnto and be welcome, when in o­ther places, for a knacke of knauery that they haue plaide they dare not tarrie. These vpright men wil seldome or neuer want, for what is gotten by any Mort or Dox, if it please him, he doth commaund the [...]ame. And if he meet any begger, whether he be sturdie or impotent, he will demaund of him whether he was e­uer stalled to the Roge or no: if he say he was, he will know of whom, and his name that stalled him. And if he be not learned­ly able to shew him the whole circumstance therof, he wil spoile him of his money, or of his best garment if it be worth any mo­ney, and haue him to the bowsing ken, which is, to some tipling house next adioining, & layeth there to gage the best thing that he hath for twentie pence or two shillings, this man obeyeth for feare of beating. Then doth this vpright man call for a gage of bowse▪ which is a quart, pot of drinke, and powres the same vp­on his pild pate, adding these words. IG. [...]. do stalle thee W. C. to the Roge, and that from henceforh it shall be lawfull for thee to Cant▪ that is to aske or begge for thy liuing in all places. Here you see that the vpright man is of great authoritie▪ For al sorts of beggers are obedient to his [...]ests, and surmounteth all [Page] others in pylfring and stealing. ¶ I lately had standing in my vvel house, vvhich standeth on the back side of my house, a great cavvdron of copper being thē full of vvater, hauing in the same halfe a dosen of pevvter dishes, vvell marked, & stamped w ^t the conizance of my armes, vvhich being vvell noted vvhen they vvere taken out vvere set a side the water powred out, and my caudren taken away, being of such bignes that one man vnlesse he were of great strength was not able far to ca [...] y ^• same. Not withstanding the same was one night within this two yeares, conuayed more then halfe a mile from my house, into a common or heth. And there bestowed in a great [...]irbushe. I then imme­diatly the next day, sent one of my men to London & there gaue warning in Southwarke, Kent streete, and Barines [...]e streete, to all the Tinckers there dwelling, that if any such Caudron came thither to be sold, the bringer thereof should be stayed, and promised twenty shillings for a reward, I gaue also intelligence to the watermen that kept the Ferries that no such ves [...]ell should be either conuaid to London, or into Essex, promising the like reward, to haue vnderstanding thereof. This my dooing was well vnderstood in many places, so that feare of espying so troubled the conscience of the stealer, that my Caudron lay vn­touched in the thick firbush more than half a yeare after, which by a great chance was found by hunters for Connies, for one chanced to run into the same bush wher my Caudron was, and being perceiued one thrust his staffe into the same bush, and hit my Caudron a great blow, the sound whereof did cause the man to thinke and hope that there was some great treasure hidden, whereby he thought to be the better while he liued. [...]nd in f [...]r­ther searching he found my Caudron, so had I the same again vnlo [...]ked for.

A Hooker or Angler. Cap. 3.

THese Hookers or Anglers bee perillous and most wicked knaues and bee deriued or proceede forth from the vpright men, they commonly goe in f [...]ize ierkins and gally s [...]ops, pointed beneath the knee, these when they practise their pilfring it is all by night, for as they go a day tunes from house to house, to demaund charity, they vigilantly marke where or in what place they may attaine to their pray, casting their eies vp to e­uery window well noting what they see there, whether appar­rell, or linnen, hanging neere vnto the said windowes, and that will they be sure to haue the next night following, for they cu­stomably carry with them a staffe of fiue or sixe foote long, in which within one inch of the toppe thereof is a little hole bored through, in which hole they put an iron hook, and with the same [Page] they wil pul vnto thē sodainely any thing that they may reach therewith, which hooke in the day time, they couertly ca [...]ry a­bout them, and is neuer seene or pulled foorth till they come to the place where they do their feate: such haue I seene at my house & haue oft had speech with them, and haue handled their staues not then vnderstanding to what vse or intent they serued although I had and perceiued by their speech and behauiour great signe of euill suspition in them, they will either leane vp­on their staffe to hide the hole therof when they haue any speech with you or hold their hand vpon the hole, and what stuffe ei­ther woollen or linnen they thus get, they neuer carry the same forthwith to their sta [...]g [...]ens, but hides the same a three daies in some secret corner, and after conuaies the same to their houses abouesaid, where their Host or Hostis giueth them mo­ney for the same, but halfe the value that it is worth, or els their Doxes shall a farre of sell the same at the like houses. I was credibly informed that a Hooker came to a Fa [...]mers house in the night, and putting aside a draw window of a low Chamber, the bed standing hard by the said windowe, in vvhich lay three persons a man and tvvo big boyes, this Hooker vvith his staffe pulled off their garments vvhich lay vppon them for vvarmth, vvith the couerlet and sheete, and left them lying a sleepe naked sauing their shirts, and had avvay all cleane, and neuer could vnderstand vvhere it became. I verely suppose that vvhen they vvere vvell vvaked vvith colde, they surely thought that Robin good fellovv (according to the old saying) had beene vvith them that night.

A Rogue. Cap. 4.

A Rogue is neither so stout or hardy as the vpright man: Many of them vvill goe faintly, and looke piteously, vvhen they see, either meete any person, hauing a cloth as vvhite as my shooes tied about their heade, vvith a short staffe in their hand, halting although they neede not, requiring almes of such as they meete, or to vvhat house they shall come. But you may easily perceiue by their colour, that they carry both health and hypocrisie about them, vvhereby they get gaine, vvhen others vvant that cannot fame and dissemble. Others there bee that goe sturdely about the Countrey, and fameth to find out [...] [...] ­ther of h [...], dvvelling vvithin some part of the shire, either [...] he hath a letter to deliuer to some honest housholder, do [...]g out of another Shire, and vvill shevv you the same [...], vvith the superscription to the party he speaketh [...] shall not suspect him to runne idelly about the Country, [...] haue they this shift, they vvill carry a certificate [...] [Page] about them from some Iusticer of the peace, with his hand and seale vnto the same, how he hath beene whipped and punished for a vacabond according to the lawes of this Realme, and that he must returne to C. where he was borne or last dwelt, by a certaine day limited in the same, which shall be a good long day. And all this famed, because without feare they would wickedly wander, and will renew the same, where or when it pleaseth them: for they haue of their affinitie that can write and reade: These also will picke and steale as the vpright men, and hath their women and meetings at places appointed, and nothing to them inferiour in all kind of knauery. There be of these Roges Curtais wearing short Cloakes, that will change their appar­rell, as occasion serueth. And their end is either hanging▪ which they call trining in their language, or die miserably of the pocks.

There was not long Athens two Roges that alwaies did as­sociate themselues together and woulde neuer seperate them­selues vnlesse it were for some especiall causes, for they were sworne brothers, and were both of one age and much like of fa­uour, these two trauelling into East-kent resorted vnto an Ale house there being wearied with trauelling, saluting with short curtes [...]e when they came into the house such as they saw sitting there, in which company was the parson of the parish and cal­ling for a pot of the best ale, sate downe at the tables end, the li­quor pleased them so well, that they had not vpon pot▪ and som­time for a little good manner would drinke and offer the cup to such as they best fancied, and to be short, they sate out all the company, for each man departed home about their busines. When they had well refreshed themselues, then these rowsie rogues requested the goodman of the house with his wife to fit down and drinke with them, of whom they inquired what priest the same was and where he dweit, then they faming that they had an vncle a priest, and that he should dwell in these partes, which by all presumptions it should be he, and that they came of purpose to speake with him, but because they had not seene him sithens they were sixe yeares old, they durst not be bolde to take acquaintance of him vntill they were farther instructed of the truth, and began to inquire of his name and how long hee had dwelt there, and how far his house was off from the place they were in: the good wife of the house, thinking them honest men without disceit because they so farre inquired of their kinsman was but of a good zealous naturall intent, shewed them cheere­fully that hee was an honest men and welbeloued in the parish, and of good wealth, and had beene there resident fifteene yeares [Page] at the least: but saith she, are you both brothers: yea surely said they, we haue beene both in one belly, and were twinnes mer­cie God quoth this foolish woman it may well be, for ye are not much vnlike & went vnto her hall window, calling these yong men vnto her, and look [...]ng out thereat, pointed with her [...]ngar, and shewed them the house standing a [...]o [...]e, no house neare the same by a quarter of a [...]le, that said she is your vnckles house: nay saith one of them he is not onely mine vnckle, but my God­father also: it may well bee quoth shee, nature will bind him to be the better to you: well quoth they, we be weary, and meane not to trouble our vnckle to night, but to morrow God willing we w [...]ll see him and do our dutie. But I pray you doth our vn­cle occupie husbandrie, what company hath he in his house? A­las saith she, but one old woman and a boy, hee hath no occupy­ing at all: tush quoth she, you be mad men, go to him this night for he hath better lodging for you than I haue, and yet I speak foolishly against my owne profite, for by your tarrying heere I should ga [...]e the more. Now by my troth quoth on [...] of them, we thanke you good hostesse for your wholesome counsaile, and wee meane to do as you will vs, we will pause a while, and by that time it will be almost night, & I pray you giue vs a reckoning: so mannerly paying for that they tooke, they bad their host and hostesse farewell with taking leaue of the cup marching merely towards this Parsons house, which they viewed wel round a­bout and passed by two bowshots off into a yoong wood, where closely they lay consulting what they should do vntill midnight: quoth one of them of sharper wit and subtiller then his fellowe to the other, thou seest that this house is stone walled about, and that we cannot well breake into any part thereof, thou seest al­so that the windowes bee thicke of mullions, that there is no creeping in betweene, wherefore we must of necessitie vse some pollicie when strength will not serue. I haue a horselocke heere about me saith he▪ and this I hope shal serue our turne: so when it was about twelue of the clocke they came to the house, and lurked neare vnto his chamber window, the dogge of the house barked a good, that with their noise this Priest waketh out of his sleepe, and began to cough and hem, then one of these roges steps forth nearer the window, and maketh a rufull and pitti­ful noyse requiring for Christs sake some reliefe for the hungry and thirsty, and was like to lie without the d [...]res all night and starue for colde, vnlesse he were releeued by him with some smal peece of money. [...]here dwellest thou quoth the Parson? [...] las sir saith this roge, I haue small dwelling, and haue come out of my way, and if I should go to any towne at this time of night, [Page] they would set me in the stocks and punish me Well quoth this pittifull Parson, away from my house, or lye in some of my out-houses vntill morning, and holde heere is a couple of pence for thee. A God reward you said this roge, and in heauen may you find it. The Parson openeth his window, and thrusteth out his arme to giue his almes to this roge that came whi [...]ing to re­ceiue it, and quickly taketh hold of his hand, and calleth his fel­low to him who was readie at hand with the horselocke, and clappeth the same about the wrest of his arme, where the mul­lions stoode so close togeather for strength, that for his life hee could not plucke in his arme againe, and made him beleeue vn­lesse he would at the least giue them three pounds, they would smite off his arme from the body: so that this poore Parson, in feare to loose his hand, called vp the olde woman that lay in the loft ouer him, and willed her to take out all the money hee had, which was foure markes, saying it was all the money hee had in his house, for he had lent six pounds to one of his neighbors not foure daies before. Well quoth they, M. Parson if you haue no more, vpon this condition we will take of the locke, that you wil drink twelue pence to morow for our sakes at the alehouse where we found you, and thank the good wife for the good chear she made vs, he promised faithfully so to doe, so they tooke of the locke, and went their waies so farre ere it was day, that the Parson could neuer haue any vnderstanding more of them. Now this Parson sorrowfully slumbering that night betwene feare and hope, thought it was but folly to make two sorrowes of one, hee vsed contentation for his remedie, not forgetting in the morning to performe his promise, but went betimes to his neighbor that kept [...]ipling, and asked angerly where the same two men were that drank with her yesterday. Which two men quoth this good wife? the strangers that came in when I was at your house with my neighbors yesterday: what your neuews quoth shee. My neuewes quoth the Parson, I trow thou art mad, nay by God quoth this good wife, as sober as you, for they told me faithfully that you were their vncle, but in faith are ye not so indeed, for by my troth they are strangers to me, I neuer saw them before. O out vpon them, quoth the Parson, they bee false theeues, and this might they compelled me to giue them all the money in my house. Benedicite quoth this good wife, and haue they so indeed? as I shal answer before God, one of them told mee besides that you were Godfather to him, and that hee trusted to haue your blessing before he departed. What did hee quoth this Parson? a halter blesse him for mee: mee thought by your countenance, you looked so wildly when you came in quoth [Page] this good wife, that something was amisse. I vse not to iest said the Parson in so earnest a matter. Why all your sorrowes got with it said the good wife, sit downe, and I will fill a fresh potte of Ale shall make you merry againe. Yea said the Parson, fill in, and giue me some meat, for they made me sweare and promise them faithfully that I should drinke twelue pence with you to day. What did they quoth she, now by the masse they be merrie knaues, I warrant you they mean to buy no land with the mo­ney: but how could they come into you in the night, your doores being shut fast your house is very strong. Then he shewed her all the whole circumstance, how he gaue them his almes out at the window, they made such lamentable crie that it pittied him at the hart: for he saw but one when he put his hand out at the window. Be ruled by me said the wife: wherin quoth the Par­son? by my troth neuer speake more of it, when they shal vnder­stand of it in the parish, they will but laugh you to scorne. Why then quoth this Parson, the deuill go with it, and there an end,

A wilde Roge. Cap. 5.

A Wilde Roge is he that is borne a Roge, he is more subtill, and more giuen by nature to all kinde of knauery than the other, as beastly begotten in barne or bushes, and from his infancie traded in tretcherie, yea and before ripenesse of yeares doth permit, wallowing in leude lecherie, but that is counted no sinne. For this is their custome, that when they meete in a barne at night euerie one getteth a make to lie withal although there chaunce to bee twentie in a companie, as there is some­times more, and sometimes lesse: for to one man that goeth a­broad, there are at the least two women, which neuer make it strange when they be called, although shee neuer knew him be­fore. Then when the day doth appeare, he rowses himselfe, and shakes his eares, and away goes wandering where he may get ought to the hurt of others. Yet before hee skippeth out of his couch, and departeth from his darling, if hee like her well▪ hee will appoint her where to meet him shortly after, with a war­ning to worke warily for some chetes, that their meeting might be the merrier.

¶Not long sithens a wild Roge chaunced to meete a poore neighbor of mine, who for honestie and good nature surmoun­teth many. This poore man riding homeward from London, where he had made his market, this roge demanded a penie for Gods sake to keepe him a true man. This simple man behelde him well, seeing him of tall personage, and a good quarter staffe [Page] in his hand, it much pittied him as he said to see him want, for he was well able to serue his Prince in the warres. Thus be­ing moued in pittie, he looked in his purse to finde out a pennie, and in looking for the same, he plucked out eight shillings in sli­uer and raked therein to find a single penny, and at the last fin­ding one, doth of [...]er the same to this wild roge: but he seeing so much money in this simple mans hande, beeing striken to the heart with a couetous desire, bid him forthwith deliuer all that he had, or else he would with his staffe beat out his braines. For it was not a penny would now quench his thirst seeing so much as hee did, thus swallowing his spittle greedily downe, spoyled this poore man of all the money that he had, and leapt ouer the hedge into a thicke wood, and went his way as merely, as this good simple man came home sorowfully. I once rebuking a wild roge because he went idlely about, he shewed me that he was a begger by inheritance, his Grandfather was a begger, his fa­ther was one, and he must needs be one by good reason.

A Prigger of Prauncers. Cap. 6.

A Prigger of Prauncers, be horse stealers, for to prigge sig­nifieth in their language to steale, & a Prauncer is a horse, so being put together the matter is plaine. These go com­monly in Ierkins of leather or white freeze, & cary litle wands in their hands, and will walke through grounds and pastures to search & see horses meet for their purpose. And if they chance to be met and asked by the owners of the ground what they do there, they feigne straight that they haue lost their way and de­sire to be instructed the best way to such a place. These wil also repaire to Gentlemens houses, and aske their charity, and wil offer their seruice: and if you aske them what they can doe, they will say that they can keepe three or foure Geldings, and waite vpon a Gentleman. These haue also their women, that wal­king from them in other places, marke where and what they see abroad, and shew these Priggars thereof when they meete, which is within a weeke or two. And looke where they steale any thing, they conuey the same at the least threescore miles off the place.

¶There was a Gentleman a verie friend of mine, riding from London homeward into Kent, hauing within three miles of his owne house businesse, who alighted off his horse, and his man also, in a prettie village where diuers houses were, and looked about him where he might haue a conuenient person to walke his horse, because hee would speake with a Farmer [Page] that dwelt on the backeside of the saide village, little aboue a quarter of a mile from the place where he lighted, and had his man to wait vpon him, as it was meete for his calling: espying a begger there standing, thinking the same to dwell there, char­ging this pretty prigging person to walke his horse well, and that they might not stand still for taking of colde, and at his re­turne (which he saide should not bee long) he would giue him a penny to drinke, and so went about his busines. This pelting Priggar proud of his pray, walketh his horse vp and downe till he saw the gentleman out of sight, and leapes into the sad­dle, and away hee goeth a maine. This Gentleman returning, and finding not his horses, sent his man to the one ende of the village and he went himself vnto the other end, and inquired as he went for his horses that were walked and began somewhat to suspect, because neither he nor his man could see or finde him. Then this gentleman dilligently inquired of three or foure towne dwellers there, whether any such person, declaring his stature, age, apparrell, with so many lineaments of his body as he could call to remembrance. And vna voce all said that no such man dwelt in their streete, neither in the parish that they knew of, but some did well remember that such a one they sawe there lurking and huggering two houres, before the gentleman came thither, but he was a stranger vnto them. I had thought quoth this gentleman he had here dwelled, and so being not farre from home, he marched mannerly in his boots, I suppose at his com­ming home he sent such waies as he suspected or thought meete to search for this Prigger, but hitherto hee neuer heard any ty­dings againe of his Palfries. I had the best gelding stolen out of my pasture which & had going amongst others while this booke was first a printing.

A Palliard. Cap. 7.

THese Palliards he called also Clapperdogens, these go with patched Cloakes, and haue their Morts with them, which they call wiues, and if he goe to one house to aske his almes, his wife shall goe to another, for what they get, as bread, cheese, malt, and wooll, they sell the same for ready money, for so they get more tha [...] if they went together, although they bee thus di­uided in the day yet they meete [...]pe at night. If they chaunce to come to some gentlemans house standing alone, and bee de­maunded whether they be man and wife, and if he perceive that any doubteth thereof, her sheweth them a testimoniall with the ministers name and others of the same parish, naming a parish [Page] in some shir [...] farre distant from the place where he sheweth the same. This writing he carrieth to salue that sore: There be ma­ny Irish men that goe about with counterfeit licenses, and if they perceiue you will straitly examine them, they will immedi­ately say they can speake no English.

¶ Further vnderstand for troth that the worst and wickedst of all this beastly generation are scarse comparable to these pra­ting Pallyards: All for the most part of these will either lay to their legs an hearbe called Sperewort, either Arsnicke, which is called Ba [...]s [...]ane. The nature of this Sperewort will raise a great blister in a night vpon the soundest part of his body, and if the same be taken away it will dry vp againe and do no harme. But this Arsnicke will so poyson the same legge or sore, that it will euer after be incurable, this do they for gaine and to be pit­tied, the most of these that goe about [...]e Welshmen.

A Frater. Cap. 8.

SOme of these Fraters will carry blacke boxes at their gyr­dle, wherein they haue a briefe of the Queenes maiesties let­ters patents giuen to such a poor spittle house for the relief of the poore there, which briefe is a copy of the letters pattents, & vtterly fained, if it bee in paper or in parchment without the great seale. Also if the same briefe be in print, it is also of autho­ritie: for the Printers will see and well vnderstand before it come in presse, that the same is lawfull. Also I am credibly in­formed that the chiefe Proctors of many of these houses, that sel­dome trauell abroad themselues but haue their factors to gather for them, which looke very slenderly to the impotent and mise­rable creatures committed to their charge, and die for want of cherrishing whereas they and their wiues are well crammed & cloathed, and will haue of the best. And the founders of euery such house, or the chiefe of the parish where they bee, would bet­ter see vnto these Proctors, that they might doe their duety, they should be well spoken of here, and in the worlde to come aboun­dantly therefore rewarded. I had of late an honest man, and of good wealth, repaired to my house to common with mee about certain affairs, I inuited him to dinner, and dinner being done. I demaunded of him some newes of these parties where hee dwelt. Thanks be to God syr (saith he) all is wel and good now. Now (quoth I) this same now declareth that some thinges of late hath not bin well. Yes syr (quod he) the matter is not great, I had thought I should haue beene well beaten, within this se­uen night, how so (quoth I) Mary syr said he. I am Constable for falt of a better, & was commanded by the Iusticer to watch. [Page] The watch beeing set, I tooke an honest man one of my neigh­bours with mee, and went vp to the ende of the towne as far as the Spittle house, at which house I heard a great noyse, and drawing neare stoode close vnder the wall▪ and this was at one of the clocke after midnight, where I heard swearing, prating, and wagers laying, and the porte apace walking, and fortie pence gaged vppon a match of wrastling, pitching of the Barre, and casting o [...] the Sledge. And out they go in a [...]ustian fun [...]e into the backeside, where was a great Axel [...]re [...], and there fell to pitching of the Barre, beeing three to three. The moone did shine bright, the Constable with his neighbour might see and beholde all that was done. And how the wife of the house was roasting of a Pigge while they were in their match. At the last they could not agree vppon a cast▪ whereupon they fell at w [...]rdes, and from wordes to blowes. The Constable and his fellowe runnes vnto them to part them, and in the parting lickes a drie blow or two. Then the noyse increased, the Con­stable would haue had them to the stockes, the wife of the house runnes out with her goodman to intreat the Constable for her guestes, and leaues the Pygge at the fire alone. In commeth two or three of the next neighbours, beeing waked with this noyse, & looking round about the house, they could find nothing therein but the Pygge well r [...]sted, and carrieth the same away with them spit and all, with such bread and drinke also as stood vppon the Table. When the goodman and the goodwife of the house had intreated and pacified the Constable, shewing vnto him that they were Proctors and Factors all of Spitt [...]e houses, and that they tarryed there but to breake their fast, and would ride away immediately after, for they had farre to goe, and therefore meant to ride so earely. And comming into their house againe, and finding the Pigge with bread and drink all gone, made a great exclamation, for they knew not who had the same.

¶The Constable returning, and hearing the lamentable wordes of the good wife, how she had lost both meat and drinke and saw it was so indeede, hee laughed in his sleeue, and com­maunded her to dresse no more at vnlawfull houres for anie of her guestes: for he thought it better bestowed vppon those smel [...]eastes his poore neighbours, than vpon such sturdie Lubbars. The next morning betimes the spitte and the pottes were both sette at the Spyttle house doore for the owner. Thus were these Spittle Factors beguiled of their breakefast, while one of them did well beate an other: and by my trouth (quoth this Constable) I was glad in my heart when I was rid of them.

[Page]Why quoth I, could they cast the barre and [...]ledge well? I will tell you sir [...]quoth hee) you knowe there hath [...]eene many games this summer, I thinke verily, that it s [...]ne of these Lu [...] ­bars had beene there, and practised amongst others, I beleeue they would haue carried away the best games: For they were so strong and sturdie, that I was not able to stand in their handes. Well [...]quoth I) at these games you speake of, both legges and armes bee tryed. Yea (quoth this officer they bee wicked men. I haue seene some of them sithens with clou [...]s bound about their legs, and halting with their staffe in their hands, wherfore some of them (by God) be nought all.

A Abraham man. Cap. 9.

THese Abraham men, be those that fame themselues to haue beene mad, and haue beene kept either in Bethlehem, or in some other prison a good time, and not one amongst twenty that euer came in prison for any such cause: yet will they say how piteously and most extreamely they haue beene beaten and dealt withall. Some of these bee merry and very pleasant, they will daunce and sing, some others bee as colde and reasonable to talke withall. These begge money, or when they come at a Farmers house they will demaunde either Bacon, cheese, or wooll, or any thing that is worth money▪ and if they espie small company within, they will with fierce countenance demaunde somewhat, where for feare the maides will giue them largely to be rid of them.

¶ If they may conueniently come by any cheate, they will picke and steale, as the vpright man or Rogue, poultry, or lin­nen, and all women that wander, be at their commandement. Of all that euer I saw of this kind, one naming himself Strad­ling, is the craftiest and most dissemblingest knaue. He is able with his tongue and vsage, to deceiue and abuse the wisest man that is: And surely for the proportion of his body, with euery member there vnto appertaining, it cannot be amended. But as the prouerbe is (God hath done his part.) This Stradling saith, he was the Lord Sturtons man, and when hee was exe­cuted, for very pensiuenes of minde he fell out of his wit, and so continued a yeare after and more and that with the very griefe and feare▪ hee was taken with a maruellous palsie, that both head and hands will shake, when he talketh with any, and that apace or fast, whereby hee is much pittied, and getteth greatly. And if I had not demaunded of others both men and women, that commonly walketh as hee doth, and knowne by them, his [Page] deepe dissimulation, I neuer had vnderstood the same. And thus I end with these kynde of vacabondes.

A Freshe Water Mariner or Whipiacke. Cap 10.

THese Freshwater Mariners, their ships were drowned in the playne of Salisbury: These kinde of Caterpillers, coū ­terfet great losses, on the sea, these bee some Westerne men, and most bee Irishe men. These will runne about the countrey with a counterfet licence, fayning either ship wrac [...]e, or spoyled by Pirates, neare the coaste of Cornwall or Deuonshyre and set a land at some hauen towne there, hauing a large & formall wryting as is abouesaide, with the names and seales, of suche men of worshippe at the least foure or fiue as dwelleth neare or nexte to the place where they fayne there landinge. And neare to those shieres will they not begge, vntill they come into Wil­shyre Hamshyre, Barkeshyre, Oxfordshyre, Harfordshyre▪ Mid­delsex, and so to London, and downe by the ryuer to seeke for their ship and goods that they neuer had, thē passe they through Surrey, Sussex, by the sea costes and so into Kent, demanding almes to bringe them home to their countrey.

¶ Some time they counterfet the seale of the Admiralti [...], I haue diuers times takē away from them their lycences, of both sortes, with such money as they haue gathered, and haue con­fiscated the same to the pouertie nigh adioyning to me. And they will not be long without another. For at any good towne they will renewe the same. Once with much threatninge and faire promises, I required to know of one companye who made their licence, & they sweare that they bought the same at Ports­mouth of a Mariner there, and it cost them two shillings, with such warrantes to bee so good and effectuall, that if any of the best men of law, or learned about London shoulde peruse the same, they were able to finde no fault therewith, but would assuredly alow the same.

[Page]

A counterfet Cranke, cap. 11.

THese that do counterfet the Cranke, be yong knaues and yong harlots, that deeply dissemble the falling sicknes. For the Cranke in their language, is the falling euill, I haue sene some of these with faire writings & testimonials, with the names & seales of some men of worship in Shropshyre, and in other Shiers far off, that I haue well knowne, and haue ta­ken the same from them. Many of these doe go without wri­tings, and will goe halfe naked, and looke most pitiously, And if any clothes be geuen them, they immediatly sell the same, for weare it they wil not, because they would be the more pittied, and weare filthie clothes on their heads, and neuer go without a pece of white sope about them, which if they se cause or present gaine, they will priuely conuay the same into their mouth, and so worke the same there, that they will fome as it were a Bort, & maruelously for a time torment themselues, and thus deceiue they the common people, and gayne much. These haue commō ­ly their harlots as the other.

Vpon Alhallon day in the morning last▪ Anno Domini. 1566. or my bo [...]ke was halfe printed, before I stirred there came earely in the morning a Counterfet Cranke, vnder my lodging at the white Fryars within the cloyster, in a little yard or court where abouts lay two or three great Ladies, be­ing without the lyberties of London, whereby he hoped for the greater gaine, this Cranke there lamentably lamenting, and pittifully crying to be relieued, declared to diuers there his paynfull and miserable dysease▪ I being risen and not halfe re­die heard his dolefull words rufull mournings, hearing him name the falling sicknes, thought assuredly to my selfe that he was a deepe dissembler, so comming out on a sodayne, and be­holding his vgly and yrksome attire, his lothsome and horrible countinance, it made me in a maruelous perplexitie, what to thinke of him whether it were fayned or truth, for after this manner went he, he was naked from the wast vpward, sauing he had an old Ierkin of leather, patched & that was lose about him, that all his body lay out bare, a filthy foule cloth he ware on his head, being cut for the purpose, hauing a narrow place to put his face out with a bauer made to trusse vp his beard, & a string that tyed the same downe close about his neck, with an old felt hat, which he still carried in his hand, to receaue the charitie & deuotiō of the people, for that would he hold out frō him▪ hauing his face from the eyes downeward, all smerd with fresh blood, as though he had new fallen, & bin tormented w ^t his paynful panges, his apparrell being all be r [...]d w ^t durt & [...]th [Page] as though hee had wallowed in the myre, surely the sight was monstrous and terrible. I called him vnto m [...] and demaunded of him what he ayled. A good master quoth hee I haue the grie­uous and painefull disease called the falling sickenes why quoth I, how commeth thy ierken, hose, and hat so berayed, with durt and myre and thy s [...]inne also. A good master I fell downe on the backeside here in a foule lane hard by the water side, and there I lay almost all night, and haue ble [...] almost all the bloud out in my body, it raind that morning very fast, and while I was thus talking with him, a poore honest woman that dwelt there by, brought him a faire linnen cloth, and bid him wipe his face therewith, and there being a tub standing full of raine water, offered to giue him some in a dish, that hee might make himselfe cleane, but he refused the same, why dost thou so quoth I, A syr (saith hee) if I would wash my selfe, I should fall to bleeding a freshe againe, and then I should not stop my selfe: these words made me the more to suspecte him. Then I asked of him where he was borne what his name was, how long he had this disease & what time he had beene here about Londō and in what place. Sir saith he, I was borne at Leycester, my name is Nicholas Gennings, and I haue had this falling sicknesse eight yeeres, and I can get no remedy for the same, for I haue it by kind, my father had it and my friends before me, and I haue beene these two yeeres here about London, and a yere and a halfe in Bed­lam: why wast thou out of thy wits quoth I? yea sir y ^t I was▪ What is the Keepers name of the house: his name is quoth he, Iohn Smith. Then quoth I, he must vnderstand of thy disease it thou haddest the same for the time thou wast there: he know­eth it well, yea not onely hee but all the house beside quoth this Cranke, for I came thence but within this fortnight, I stoode so long reasoning the matter with him, that I was a colde, and went into my chamber and made mee readie, and commaunded my seruant to repaire to Bedlam, and bring me true word from the keeper there, whether any such man hath beene with him as prisoner, hauing the disease aforesaid, and gaue him a note of his name and the keepers also. My seruant returning to my lodg­ing, did assure mee that neither was there euer any such man there, neither yet any keeper of any such name, but he that was there keeper sent me his name in writing, affirming that he let­teth none depart from him vnlesse he be set away by his frends, and that none that came from him begged about the Cittie. Then sent I for the Printer of this booke, and shewed him of this dissembling Crank, and how I had sent to Bedlam to vn­derstand the truth, and what aunswere I receyued againe, re­quiring [Page] him that I might haue some seruaunt of his to watch him faithfully that day, that I might vnderstand truly to what place he would repaire at night, and thither I promised to goe my selfe to see their order, and craued him to associate mee thi­ther. Hee gladly graunted my request, and sent two [...]oyes that both diligently and vigilantly accomplisht the charge giuen to them and found the same Cranke about the Temple, wherea­bout the most part of the day hee begged, vnlesse it were about twelue of the clocke, that he went on the backside of Clements Inne without Temple bar, into a lane that goeth to the fields, there he renewed his face againe with fresh bloud, which hee carried about him in a bladder, and dawbed on fresh dart vpon his ierkin, hat, and hosen, & so came backe againe to the Tem­ple, and sometime to the waterside, and begged of all that pas­sed by, the boyes beheld howe some gaue grotes, some six pence, some gaue more, for he looked so vgly and irke [...]omely, that eue­rie one pittied his miserable case that beheld him. To be short, there he passed all the day till night approched, and when it be­gan to be somewhat darke, he went to the waterside, and tooke a Skuller and was set ouer the water into S. Georges fields, contrary to my expectation, for I had thought hee would haue gone into Holburne, or to S. Giles in the field: but these boyes with Argus and Linces eyes, set sure watch vpon him and the one tooke a boate and followed him, and the other went backe to tell his maister.

The boy that so followed him by water had no money to pay for his Boat hire, but laid his Penner and his ynkehorne to gage for a penny, and by that time the boy was set ouer, his Maister with all celeritie had taken a boate and followed him apace. Now had they a sight still of the Cranke, which crossed ouer the fields towards Newingtō, and thither hee went, and by that time they came thither it was very darke: the Printer had there no acquaintance, neither any kinde of weapon about him, neither knew he how farre the Cranke would go, because he then suspected that they dogged him of purpose, he there stay­ed him, and called for the Constable, which came forth diligent­ly to enquire what the matter was: this zealous printer char­ged this Officer with him as a malefactor and a dissembling vagabonde, the Constable would haue laid him all night in the Cage that stoode in the streete nay saith this pitiful printer, I pray you haue him into your house, for this is like to be a colde night, and he is naked, you keepe a vittelling house, let him bee wel cherished this night for he is well able to pay for the same. I know well his gaines hath bene great to day, and your house [Page] is a sufficient prison for the time, and we will there search him, the Constable agreed▪ there vnto, they had him in, caused him to wash himselfe, that done, they demanded what money he had about him, saieth this Cranke so God helpe me I haue but xij. pence, and plucked the same out of a little purse, why haue you no more quoth they, no saieth this Cranke, as God shall saue my soule at the day of iudgment, we must see more quoth they & began to strip him, then he plucked out another purse where­in was xl. pens: Tush saith this Printer I must see more, I pray God I may be damned both body and soule, if I haue any more: no saith this Printer, thou false knaue here is my boy that did watch thee all this day, and sawe when such men gaue thee peeses of sixe pence, gr [...]tes, and other mony, and yet thou shewed vs none but small money, when this Cranke hard this, and the boy vowing it to his face, he relented, and plucked out another purse wherein was eyght shillinges & od money, so had they in the hole that he had begged that day, xiij. shillinges iij. pence halfepeny, then they stript him starke naked, & as many as sawe him, said they neuer saw hansommer man, with a yel­lowe flexen beard, and fayre skinned without any spot or griefe, then the good wife of the house fetcht hir goodmans old cloke, & caused the same to be cast about him, because the sight should not abash hir shamefast maidens, neither loath hir squaymishe sight. Thus he set him downe at the Chimnies end, and called for a pot of Beare and dranke of a quart at a draft, and cal­led for another and so the thirde, that one had bin sufficient for any reasonable man, the Drinke was so strong, that I my selfe y ^e next morning tasted thereof but let the reader uidge what & howe much he would haue drunke if he had binne out of feare. then when they had wrong water out of a flint, in spoyling him of his euill gotten goods, his passing pence and fleeting trash. The Printer with this officer, were in gealy ielotie and de­uised to search a barne for some roges, and vpright men, a quar­ter of a mile from the house, that stoode alone in the fields, and went out about their busines, leauing the Cranke alone with his wife and maydens, this craftie Cranke espying all gone, requested the good wife that he might goe on the backsyde to make water, and to exonerate his paunch, she bad him drawe the latch of the dore and goe out, neither thinking or mistrust­ing he would haue gone away naked, but to conclude when he was out, he cast away the cloke, and as naked as euer he was borne he ran a way ouer the fields to his owne house, as he af­terward said. Now the next morning betimes I went vnto Newington to vnderstād what was done because I had word [Page] or it was daye that

there my Printer was, at my cōming thether, I hard the whole circumstance as I aboue haue writtē, and I seing the matter so fal out toke order with the chiefe of the parishe that this xiij. shil­linges & three pence halfepeny, might bee the next day equally distributed by theyr good discretions to the pouertie of the same parish, whereof this craftie Cranke had part himself, for hee had both house & wife in the same pa­rish as after you shal heare. But this leud loiterer could not lay his bones to labour, hauing once got the tast of this lewd lasse life for al this fair admonition, but deuised other subtil sleights to maintaine his idle liuing and so craftily cloashed himselfe in Marriners apparell, and associated himselfe with an other of his companions: they hauing both Marriners apparell▪ went abroad to aske charitie of people, faining they had lost their ship with all their goods by casualtie on the Seas, wherewith they gained much. This craftie Cranke fearing to be msstrusted fell to another kind of begging as bad or worse, and apparelled him selfe verie well with a faire blacke Freeze ceate, a newe paire of white hose, a fine felt hatte on his head, a shirt of Flaunders woorke, esteemed to be woorth twentie sixe shillings, and vpon New yeares day came againe into the white Friers to begge, the Printer hauing occasion to goe that waies▪ not thinking of this Cranke, by chaunce mett with him who asked his cha­ritie for Gods sake, the Printer vewing him well did mis­strust him, to bee the counterfet Cranke which deceaued him vpon Alhollon daye at night, demaunded of whence he was & what was his name, for s [...]oth saide he my name is Nicolas [Page] Genings, and I came to Leicester to seeke worke, and I am a ha [...]er by my occupation, and all my money is spent, and if I could get money to pay for my iudging this night, I would to morrow seeke worke amongst the ha [...]ters: the Printer percei­uing his deepe dissimulation, put his hand into his purse, see­ming to giue him some money, and with faire illusions brought him into the streete, where he charged the Cunstable w ^t him, affirming him to be the counterret Cranke, that ranne away vpon a [...]ha [...]on day last. The Cunstable being very loth to medle with him, but the Printer knowing him and his deepe decayte desired he might be brought before the Deputie of the wa [...]e which straight was accomplished which when he came before the deputie, he demanded of him of whence he was and what was his name he answered as before he did vnto the Printer, y ^e deputie asked the Printer what he would say vnto his charge he answered & aleged him to be a Vagabond and deepe deceiuer of the people▪ and the counterfet Cranke that ran away vppon Alhallon day last, from the Cunstable of Newington and him, & requested him ernestly to send him to ward, the deputie thin­king him to be deceaued but neuerthelesse laid his cōmandment vppon him, so that the Printer should beare his charges if he could not iustifie it, he agreed there vnto. And so he & the Cun­stable went to cary him to the Counter, as they were going vn­der Ludgate this craftie Crank take his helees & ran downe the hill as fast as he could dryue, the Cunstable & y ^e Printer ran after him as fast as they could, but y ^e Printer of y ^e twayne being lighter of foote, ouer tooke him at fleete brydge, and with strong hand caried him to the Counter, and safely deliuered him. On the morrow y ^e Printer sent his boy that stripped him vpō Alhallon day at night to veiw him becaus he would be sure, which boy knew him very wel, this Cranke confessed vnto the Deputie, that he had hosted the night before in Kent streete in Southwark at the signe of the Cocke, which thinge to be true, the Printer sent to know and found him a lyer, but further inquiring at length found out his habitatiō, dweling in Master Hills rents hauing a prety house well stuffed with a faire ioynt table, and a fayre Cubbard garnished with peuter, hauing an old auncient womā to his wife. The Printer being sure there­of, repaired vnto the Counter, and rebuked him for his beastly behauiour, and tould him of his false fayning, and willed him to confesse it and aske forgiuenes, he perceiued him to knowe his deepe dissimulation, relented and confessed all his deceite, & so remayning in the Counter three dayes, was remoued to Bridewell, where he was stript starke naked, and his vglye [Page] attier put vpon him before the Maisters therof, who wondred there at his dissimulation greatly, for which offence he stood vp­on the pillory in Cheapeside both in his vgly and handsome at­tire: and after that went in the Mil while his vgly picture was a drawing, and then was whipped at a Cartes tayle through London, and his displayed banner carried before him vnto his owne boore: and so back to Bridewell againe, & there remained for a time, and at length was set at libertie on that condition he would proue an honest man, and labour truly to get his liuing. His picture remaineth in Bridewell for a monument.

A Dommerar. Cap. 12.

THese Dommerars are leud and most subtill people, the most part of these are Welch men, and will neuer speake, vnlesse they haue extreame punishment, but will gape, and with a maruellous force will hold downe their tongues doubled, groa­ning for your charitie, and holding vp their hands full piteously so that with their deep dissimulation they get very much. Ther are of these many, and but one that I vnderstand of hath lost his tongue in deed. Hauing on a time occasion to ride to Dart­ford to speake with a Priest there, who maketh all kind of con­serues verie well, and vseth stilling of waters. And repairing to his house I found a Dommerar at his doore, and the Priest himselfe perusing his licence, vnder the seales and hands of cer­taine worshipful men, had thought the same to be good and effec­tuall. I taking the same writing, and reading it ouer, and no­ting the seales, found one of the seales like vnto a seale that I had about mee, which seale I bought besides Charing crosse, so that I was out of doubt it was none of the Gentlemens seales that had subscribed. And hauing vnderstanding before of their peeuish practises, made me to conceiue that all was forged and nought, I made the more hast home for wel I wist that he must of force passe through the parish where I dwelt, for there was no other way for him. And comming homeward, I found them in the town according to my expectation, where they were stai­ed, for there was a Pallyard associate with the Dommerar & partaker of his gaines, which Pallyard I saw not at Dart­ford. The stayers of them was a gentleman called Chayne, and a seruant of my Lord Keepers called Woslestow ▪ which was the chiefe causer of the staying of them, who being a surgeon, & cun­ning in his science, had seene the like practises, and as hee saide, had caused one to speake afore that was dombe. I chaunced to come at the beginning of the matter: Sir (q. this surgion) I am [Page] bold here to vtter some part of my cunning, I trust quoth hee, you shall see a miracle wrought anon: for I once made a dumbe man speake. Quoth I, you are well mette, and somewhat you haue preuented me, for I had thought to haue done no lesse be­fore they had passed this towne: for I well knowe their wry­ting is fained, and they deepe dissemblers. The Surgeon made him gape, and we could see but halfe a tongue. I required the Surgeon to put his finger in his mouth and to pull out his tongue, and so he did notwithstanding he held strongly a pretie while, at the length hee pluckt out the same, to the great admi­ration of the beholders: yet when we saw his tongue he would neither speake, nor yet could heare. Quoth I to the Surgeon, knit two of his fingers together, and thrust a sticke betweene them, and rubbe the same vp and downe a little while, and for my life he speaketh by and by. Sir quoth this Surgeon, I pray you let me practise another way, I was well contented to see the same. Hee had him into a house, and tyed a halter about the wrests of his hands, and hoysed him ouer a beame, and there did let him hang a good while: at the length with verie paine, he re­quired for Gods sake to lette him downe: so hee that was both deafe and dumbe, could in short time both heare and speake. Then I tooke the money I could finde in his purse, and distri­buted the same to the poore people dwelling there, which was xv. pence halfepeny, being al that we could find. That done, and this merry miracle madly made, I sent them with my seruaunt to the next Iusticer, wher they preached on the pillory for want of a pulpit and were well whipped, and none did bewaile them.

A dronken Tinkar. Cap. 13.

THese dronken Tinkers, called also Prigs, be beastly people, and these yong knaues bee the worst: they neuer go with­out their Doxes, and if their woman haue any thing about them, as apparell or linnen that is woorth the selling, they lay [...] the same to gage, or sell it outright for bene bouse at their bou­sing ken, and full soone will they bee wearie of them, and haue a new. When they happen to woorke at any good house, theyr Doxes lynger alooft, and tarrie for them in some corner, and if he tarrieth long from her, then she knoweth he hath worke, and walketh neare, and sitteth downe by him. For besides money hee looketh for meate and drinke for dooing his dame pleasure. For if she haue three or foure holes in a panne, he will make as many more for speedy gaine. And if he see any olde Kettle, cha­ [...]er, or Peuter dish abroad in the yard where he works, he quickly [Page] snappeth the same vp, and into the budget it goeth round▪ and thus they liue with deceit.

¶I was credibly informed by such as could well tell, that one of these tipling Tinkars with his dogge, robbed by the high way foure Pallyards and two Rogues, six persons together, & tooke from them aboue foure pound in ready money, and hidde him after in a thick wood a day or two, and so escaped vntaken. Thus with picking and stealing, mingled with a little woorke for a colour, they passe their time.

A Swadder oe Pedler. Cap. 14.

THese Swadders and Pedlers be not all euill, but of an in­different behauiour [...] these stand in great awe of the vpright men, for they haue often both wares and money of them, but forasmuch as they seeke gaine vnlawfully against the lawes & statutes of this noble Realme, they are well worthy to be regi­stred amongst the number of vagabonds: and vndoubtedly I haue had some of them brought before me when I was in com­mission of the peace, as malefactors for briberie and stealing. And now of late it is a great practise of the Vpright man, when he hath gotten a booty, to bestowe the same vppon a packefull of wares, and so goeth a time for his pleasure, because he would liue without su [...]pition.

A Iarkeman and a Patrico▪ Cap. 15.

FOrasmuch as these two names, a Iarkeman and a Patri­co be in the olde briefe of vagabond, & set forth as two kinds of euill dooers, you shall vnderstand that a Iarkeman hath his name of a Iarke, which is a seale in their language, as one should make writings and set seales for licences and pasports. And for trueth there is none that goeth about the countrey of them, that can either write so good and faire a hand, or indite so learnedly as I haue seene and handled a number of them: but haue the same made in good townes, as what cannot be had for money (as the prouerbe saith) Omnia venalia Romae, and manie hath confessed the same to me. Now also there is a Patrico, and not a Patriarcha, which in their language is a Priest that should make marriages till death depart, but they haue no such I am well assured, for I put you out of doubt that not one a­mongst a hundred of them are married, for they take lechery for no sinne, but naturall fellowship and good liking loue, so that I will not blot my booke with these two that be not.

The ground-worke A Demaunder for glimmar. Cap. 16.

THese Demanders for glimmar be for the most part women, for glymmar in their language is fier: these go with famed licences and counterfaited writings, hauing the hands and seales of such Gentlemen as dwelleth neare to the place where they faine themselues to haue beene burnt, and their gooddes consumed with fire. They will most lamentably demaund your charitie, and will quickly shedde salte teares they bee so tender hearted. They will neuer begge in that Shire where their losses (as they say) was. Some of these go with states at their backes, which is a sheete to lye in a nights. The vpright men be verie familiar with these kinde of women, and one of them hel­peth another.

¶A Demaunder for glymmar came vnto a good towne in Kent, to aske the charitie of the people, hauing a fained licence about her▪ that declared her misfortune by fire done in Somer­setshire, walking with a Wallet on her shoulders, wherein she put the deuotion of such as had no money to giue her, that is to say Maite, wooll, bakon, bread and cheese▪ and alwayes as the same was full, so was it readie money to her when she emptied the same, wheresoeuer she trauelled. This harlot was (as they tearme it) snowt faire, and had an Upright man or two alwais attending on her watch (which is on her person) and yet so cir­cumspect that they would neuer be seene in her company in a­ny good towne, except it were in small villages where typlyng houses were, either trauelling together by the high waies: but the truth is, by report she would weekly be woorth six or seauen shillings, with her begging and bitcherie. This glymmering Mort repairing to an Inne in the saide towne, where dwelt a widow of fiftie winter old of good welth, but she had an vnthrif­tie sonne, whom she vsed as a Chamberlaine to attend guestes when they repaired to her house. This amorous man beholding with ardent eyes this glymmering glauncer was presently pi­teously pierced to the heart, and sewdly longed to be clothed vn­der her liuerey, and bestowing a few fond words with her, vn­derstood straight, that she would bee easily perswaded to liking lecherie, and as a man mased, mused how to attaine to his pur­pose, for hee had no money. Yet considering with h [...]mselfe that wares would be welcome where money wanteth, he went with a wanton to his mothers chamber, and there seeking about for adde endes, at length found a litle whistle of siluer that his mo­ther did vse customably to weare on, and had forgot the same for haste that morning, and offers the same closely to this man­nerly Marian, that if she would meete him on the backeside of [Page] the towne, and curteously kisse him without constraint, she shuld be mistresse thereof and it were much better, well saith shee you are a wanton, and beholding the whystell, was farther in loue there with, then rauisht with his person, and agreed to meete him presently and to accomplishe his fonde fancy: to be short & not tedious, a quarter of a mile from the towne he merrily took measure of her vnder a bawdy bush (so shee gaue him that shee had not) and he receaued that he could not, and taking leaue of each other with a curteous kisse, shee pleasantly passed forth on her iournay, and this vntoward lycorous Chamberlaine re­payred homward. But ere these two Turtles tooke their leaue the good wife had missed her whistle, and sent one of her mai­dens into her Chamber for the same and being long sought for, none coulde bee found, her mistres hearing that dilligent search was made for the same, and that it was taken away, began to suspect her vnblessed babe, and demaunded of her maidens whe­ther none of them saw her son in her Chamber that morning, and one of them answered that she saw him not there, but com­ming from thence: then had shee inough for well shee wist that he had the same, and sent for him, but hee coulde not be found. Then shee caused her Hostier, in whom shee had better affiance for his truth, and yet not one amongst twenty of them but haue well left their honesty (as I heare a great sort say) for to come vnto her, which attended to knowe her pleasure, got seeke out saith she my vntoward sonne, and bid him come speak with me: I saw him goe out saith hee halfe an houre sithens on the backeside, I had thought you had sent him of your errand, I sent him not quoth shee goe looke him out.

¶This hollow Hostler took his staffe on his necke and trud­ged out apace that way hee sawe him before goe, and had some vnderstanding by one of the maidens that his mistres had her whistle stolen, and she suspected her sonne for it: he had not gone farre but he espied him comming homward alone, and meeting him demanded where he had beene. Where haue I beene quod he and began to smile, by the mas thou hast beene at some bau­dy banquet, thou hast euen told truth quoth this Chamberlain, surely quoth this hostler, thou hadst the same woman that beg­ged at our house to day with a lycence for the harmes shee had by fier, where is shee quoth he, shee is almost a mile by this time quod this Chamberlaine, where is my mistres whistle quoth this Hostler, for I am well assured that thou hadst it, and I feare me thou hast giuen it to that harlot Why is it missed quod the Chamberlaine, yea quod the Hostler and shewed him all the whole circumstance what was both said and thought on him for [Page] the thing. Well I wil tell thee quoth this chamberlaine, to be plaine with thee I had it in deede, and haue geuen the same to this woman, and I pray thee make the best of it, & helpe now to excuse the matter, and yet surely and thou wouldest take so much paines for me as to ouertake hir for shee goeth but softely and is not yet far of and take the same from hir, & I wilbe euer thy assured freend. Why then goe with me quoth this hosteler, nay in faith quoth this chamberlin what is freer than gift, and I had prety pastime for the same, hadst thou so quoth this host­ler now by the masse and I wil haue some to, or I will lie in y ^e dust ere I come a gaine. Passing with hast to ouertake this pa­ramour within a mile from that place where he departed he ouertoke hir, hauing an vpright man in hir company a strong & a sturdy vagabond, some what amased was this hosteler to se one familiarly in hir company, for he had wel hoped to haue had some delicate dalliance as his fellow had, but seeing the matter so fall out, and being of good corrage, & thinking to him­selfe that one true man, was better than two false knaues, and being on the high way, thought vpon helpe if neede had binne, by such as had passed to and fro. Demaunded fersely the whi­stle that shee had euen now of his fellowe, why husband quoth she, can you suffer this wretch to slaunder your wife, avaunt varlot quoth this vpright man and lets driue withal his force at the hostler, & after halfe a dosen blowes he strikes his staffe out of his hand, and as this hosteler stept backe to haue taken vp his staffe a gayne, this glymmering Morte flinges a great stone at him, & strak him on the head, that downe he falles with the blood about his cares, and while he lay thus amased the vpright man snatches away his purse, wherein he had money of his mistresses, as well as of his owne, and there let him lie & went away with speede, that they were neuer heard of more. When this drie beaten hosteler was come to himselfe, he faint­ly wandered home, and creepeth into his couche, and rests his idel head, his mistresse hard that he was come in, and laid him down on his bed▪ repaired straight vnto him, & asked him what he ayled, and what the cause was of his sodaine lying on his bed, what is the cause quoth this hosteler, your whistle your whistle, speaking the same pyteouslye thre or foure tymes, why foole quoth his mistrisse take no care for that, for I do not gret­ly way it, it was worth but three shillings foure pence, I wold it had bin burnt for foure yeares agon: I pray thee why quoth his mystres, I thinke thou art mad, nay not yet quoth this hostler but I haue bin madly handled if you knew al, why what is the matter quoth his mistresse? and was the more des [...]erous [Page] to know the cause: & you will forgiue my fellow & mee. I will shew you, or els I wil neuer do it, she made him presently faith­full promise that she would: then saith he, send for your sonne home again which is a shamed to looke you in the face, I agree there to saieth she, well then quoth this hosteler your son hath giuen the same Morte that begged here, for the burning of hir house, a whistle, and you haue giuen hir fiue shillings in money, and I haue geuen hir tenne shillings of my owne: why how so quoth she, then he sadly shewed hir of his mishap, with all the circumstances that you haue heard before, and how his purse, was taken awaye, and xv. shyllings in the same, whereof v. shyllings was hir money, and x. shil [...]ings his owne money, is this true quoth his mistresse, I by my trouth quoth this hostler and nothing greues me so much▪ neither my beating neither y ^e losse of my money, as doth my euil & wretched lucke: why what is the matter quoth his mistres? your sonne sayeth this hostler had some cheare and pastime for that whistle, for he lay with hir, and I haue bin well beaten, and haue had my purse taken from me, and you know your sonne is merry & plesaunt, & can keepe no great counsell & then shall I be mocked & laughed to scorne in al places, when they shal heare how I haue bin ser­ued. Nowe out vpon you knaues both quoth his mistrisse and laughes out the matter, for shee sawe it would not otherwise preuaile.

The Baudy Basket. cap. 17.

THese Baudy baskets be also women, that goe with baskets and Capcases on there armes, wherein they haue Laces, pynnes, needles, white inkell, and round sylke girdles of all colours. These will buy conneyskinns, & steale linnen clothes off hedges. And for these trifles they will procure of maiden seruants, when their mistris or dame is out of the way, either some good peece of beefe, baken, or cheese, that shalbe worth xij. pence: for ij. pence of there toyes. And as they walke by y ^e way, they often gaine some money with their instrument, by such as they sodainely meet withall. The vpright men haue good ac­quaintance with these, & will helpe and relieue them when they want. Thus they trade there liues in lewd lothsome le­chery. Amongst them al is but one honest woman, & she is of good yeares, hir name is Ione messinger, I haue had good proofe of hir, as I haue learned by the true reporte of diuers There came to my gate the last sommer. 1566. a man much de­formed and burnt in the face, blea [...]e eyde, and lame of one of his legs that he went with a crouch, I asked him vvhere hee vvas borne & vvhere he dwelt last, & told him thither he must repaire [Page] and be relieued and not to range about the Country, and seeing some cause of charitie, I caused him to haue meate and drinke, and when he had drunke I demaunded of him whether he was neuer spoyled of the vpright man or Rogue, yes that I haue quoth he and not this seauen yeares (for so long I haue gone a­broad) I had not so much taken from me, nor so euil handled as I was within these foure daies, why how so quoth I? in good faith sir quoth hee, I chaunced to meete with one of these baudy baskets which had an vpright man in her company, and as I would haue passed quietly by her, man saith shee to her make, doe you not see this ilfauoured windshaken knaue, yes quoth the vpright man, what say you to him, this knaue oweth mee two shillings for wares that he had of me halfe a yeare agoe, I thinke it well saith the vpright man, syrra saith hee, pay your debts: saith this poore man I owe her none, neither did I e­uer bargaine with her for any thing, and as I am well aduised, I neuer sawe her before in all my life, mercy God quod shee, what a lying knaue is this, and if hee will not pay you husband beat him surely, and the vpright man gaue mee three or foure blowes on my backe and shoulders, and hee would haue beaten me worse had I not giuen him all the mony in my purse which was iust fourteene pence: why saith the baudy basket hast thou no more? then thou owest me ten pence still, and bee well assured I will be paid the next time I meete with thee. And so they let me passe by them: I pray God saue and blesse me and all other in my case from such wicked persons: why whither went they then quoth I? into East-Kent, for I met with them on this side of Rochester: I haue diuers times beene attempted but I ne­uer lost much before this vnhappy time. Well quod I thanke God for all, and repaire home into thy natiue Country.

A Autem Mort.

THese Autem Morts be married women, for Autem in their Language is a Church, so shee is a wife married at the Church, and they bee as chaste as a Cowe which goeth to Bull euery moone, with what Bull she careth not. These walke most times from their husbands company a month or more to­gether, beeing associate with another as honest as her selfe. These will pilfer clothes off hedges, some of them goe with children of ten or twelue yeares old, and if time and place serue for their purpose, they will sende them into some house at the window to steale and rob, which they call in their language, Milling of the ken, and will go with wallets on ther shoulders and slates at their backes, there is one of these Autem Mortes [Page] shee is now a widow of fifty yeares old, her name is Alice Mil­son, shee goeth about with a couple of great boyes, the youngest of them is about twenty yeares of age, and these two lie with her euery night and shee lyeth in the mids, shee saith that they be her children, but beetleheaded be the babes borne of such an ab­hominable belly.

A walking Mort. cap. 19.

THese walking Morts be not married these for their vnhap­py yeares doth goe as an Autem Mort, and will say their husbands died either at Newhauen, Ireland, or in some ser­uice of the Prince. These make laces vpon staues and purses that they carry in their hands, & white vallance for beds. Ma­ny of these hath had and haue children: when these get ought, ei­ther with begging bychery or bribery, as money or apparrell, they are quickly shaken out of all by the vpright men. Wherfore this pollicie they vse, they leaue their money with some trusty friend or other being housholders either man or wife, sometime in one shire, and then in another as they trauell: this haue I I knowne that 4. s. or 5. s. yea, 10. s. left in a place, and the same will they come for againe within one quarter of a yeare, or som­time not in halfe a yeare, yet it is to litle purpose, for if they buy them any garments either linnen or woollen they are taken from them and worse giuen them, or else none at all.

¶The last Sommer An. 1565. being in familliar talke with a walking Mort, that came to my gate, I learned by her what I could for my purpose, and then I rebuked her for her lewd life and beastly behauiour, declaring to her what punishment was prepared for her in the world to come. God helpe me quod shee how should I liue, none will take me into seruice, but I labour in haruest time honestly. I thinke but a while with honesty quod I. Shall I tell you, the best of vs all may be amended, but yet I did one good deede within this tweluemonth, but i [...] words of it, and you shall heare all. So it be necessary to bee kept secret it shall lye vnder my feete. What meane you by that said shee? why neuer to discouer it to any, She began to smile, saying if it were disclosed to any by me, she swore neuer to tell me any thing here­after, and began thus. The last Summer said shee beeing great with childe, and trauelling into East-kent by the sea-coast, and lusting greatly after Oisters and m [...]scles and hauing gathered many, opened them and eate them vp, till at last seeking after more, I slipped into a hole vp to the wast and stucke fast in mud, so that if the tide had come I had beene drowned: but espying a man farre off, cryed out as lowd as was in my power for helpe, he heard me, and repaired as fast to me as he could, being come [Page] I required for gods sake his helpe, and whether it was with striuing and forcing my selfe out, or for ioy I had of his com­ming to me. I had a great [...]uller in my face & looked red & wel cou [...]ered. And to be p [...]me with you he liked me so well (as he saide) that I should there lye s [...]l, & I would not graunt him, that he might lie with me. [...]nd by my troth I will not what to answere I was in such a perplexetie, for I knew the man well, he had a very honest woman to his wife & was of some wealth & on the other side, [...] I were not holpe out I shoulde there haue perished, and I granted him that I woulde obey to his will, then he plucked me out. And because there was no conuenient place nere hand, I required him that I might go wash my self & make me some what cleanly, and I would come to his house and lodge al night in his barne, whither he [...]ght repaire to me & accomplish his desire, but let it not be quoth she before nine of the clock at night for the [...] there wilbe [...]all styrring: And I may repaire to the towne q. she to warme & drye my selfe, for this was about two of clock in y ^e after none, do so quoth he for I must be busie to looke out my cattel here by before I can come home. So I went away from him & glad was I, & why so quoth I? because quoth she his wife my good dame is my very frende, & I am much be holding to hir. And she had done me so much good ere this, that I was loth to harme hir any way, why so quoth I? what and it had bin any other man & not your good dames husband. The matter had bin the lesse quoth she. Tell me I pray thee quoth I who was the father of thy childe she studied a while, & said that it had a father but what was he quoth I? Nowe by my troth I know not quoth she, you bring me out of my matter so you doe, well saie on quoth I, then I departed straight to the towne & came to my dames house. And shewed hir of my misfortune, also of hir husbands vsage in al poynts & that I shewed hir the same for good will & bid hir take better heed to hir husbande, and to hir selfe, so she gaue me great thanks & made me good cheare and bid me in any case that I should be ready at the barne at y ^e time and houre we had appoynted for I know well quoth this good wife my husband will not breake with thee. And one thinge I warne thee that thou giue me a watch word a loude when he goeth about to haue his pleasure of thee, & that shal­be fye fo [...] shame fye and I wil be hard by you, with helpe. But I charge thee keepe this secrete vntill all be finished, & holde saith this good wife here is one of my peticots I giue thee. I thank you good dame q. I, and I warant you I will bee true & trusty vnto you, So my dame left me sitting by a good fyre [Page] with meat and drinke & other good cheare, and then shee went straight and repaired vnto hir gossipes dwelling thereby, and as I did after vnderstand she made hir mone to them what a lecherous husband she had, and how that she could not haue his company for harlots, & that she was in feare to take some filthy disease of him, he was so commō a man, hauing litle re­specte whome he had to do with all, and q. shee now ther is one at my house a pore woman that goeth about the countrey that he would haue had to doe withall wherfore good neigh­bours & louing gossyps as you loue me and as you would haue helpe at my hand a nother time, deuise some remedy to make my husband a good man, that I may liue in some safty without disease, & y ^t he may saue his soule that God so derely bought. And after shee had told hir tale they cast there per [...]ng eyes all vpon hir, but one stout dame amongst the rest had these words. As your patient bearing of troubles, your honest behauiour among vs your neighbours, your tender & pittifull hart to the poore of the parish, doth moue vs to lament your case, so the vnsatiable carnality of your faithlesse husband doth in [...]tigate & st [...]r vs to deuise and inuent some speedy redresse for your cause & the amendment of his lyfe: Wherefore this is my counsell & you wil be ruled by me. I say to you all, vnlesse it be this wife who is chiefely touched in this matter I haue y ^e next cause, for he was in hand w ^t me not long a goe, & if companie had not bin present which was by chaunce, he had I think forced me, for often he hath bin tempting mee, & yet haue I sharply said him nay, therefore let vs assemble into the place where he hath ap­poynted to meete this gyllot y ^t is at your house & lurke in some corner til he begone abou [...] his busines, And thē me thought I hard you say that you had a watch w [...]de, at which worde we wil al step forth being fiue of vs besides you, for you shal­be none because it is your husband, but get you to bed at your houre. And we wil carie each of vs a birchen rod in our laps, & we wil al be muffeled for knowing, & se that you go home & acquaint y ^e Mo [...]te vvith the matter for vve must haue hir help to hold, for alwaies foure must hold & two lay on. Alas saieth this good wife, he is too strong for you all, I would be loth for my sake you should receaue harme at his han [...]: feare you not q. these stout women let hir not giue the w [...]tch word vntyll his breeches bee about his legges: And I t [...]owe wee all will bee with him to bring before he haue [...]ey [...]re to plucke them vp againe, then they all with one voice agreed to the matter that the way she had deuised was most conuenient and fittest to accomplish such a matter withall, so shee went home [Page] but before shee departed from her gossips shee shewed them at what houre they should priui [...]y come in on the backeside & there to tarry their good howre, so by that time shee came in it was al­most night and found the walking Mort still sitting by the fire, and declared to her all this new deuise abouesaid, which promi­sed faithfully to fulfill to her small power as much as they had deuised, within a quarter of an howre after in commeth the good man who said that he was about his cattell, why who haue we here wife sitting by the fire, and if [...]hee haue eate and drunk send her into the barne to her lodging for this night, for she troubleth the house, euen as you will husband saith his wife, you know shee commeth once in two yeares into these quarters. Then he called to his wife for his supper sitting downe very pleasant, nothing vnderstanding of the banquet that was prepared for him after supper, and according to the prouerbe (that sweete meate will haue sowre sawce) thus when he was well refreshed, and his spirits reuiued, hee entered into familiar talke with his wife of many matters howe well hee had spent that day to their great profits, saying some of his cattell were like to be drowned in the ditches, driuing other of his neighbors cattell out that were in his pastures, and mending his fences that were broken downe. Thus profitably he had consumed the day, nothing talking of his helping the walking Mort out of the mire, neither of his re­quest nor yet of her promise. Thus feeding her with friendly fantasies consumed two houres and more. Then fayning how he would see in what case his horses were in and how they wer dressed, repaired couertly into the barne, where as his friendly foes lurked priuily, vnlesse it were this mannerly Mort, that comly couched on a bottle of straw. What are you come q. she? by the masse I would not for a hundred pound that my dame or anie of your house knew you were here. No I warrant thee saith this good man they be all safe inough at their work, and I will bee at mine anon He lay dovvne by her, and straight vvould haue had to doe vvith her, nay fie saith shee this order is vnseemely, if you lie vvith me you shall surely vntrusse you, and put dovvne your hosen for that vvay is most easiest and best, saiest thou so quoth he, novv by my troth agreed, And vvhen he had vntrussed him­selfe he began to assalt the vnsatiable fort: vvhy quoth shee that vvas vvithout shame, sauing for her promise, are you not asha­med: neuer a vvhit saith he, lye dovvne quickly. Novv lye for shame fie, saith she aloud, vvhich vvas the vvatchvvord: vvher­at these fiue furious sturdy muffled gossips flinges out, taking sure hold of him, plucking his hosen dovvn lovver, & binding thē about his feet, then binding his hands, & knitting a handkercher [Page] about his eyes that he should not see, they laid him on vntil they were windles: be good saith this Mort vnto my maister for the passion of God, and laid on as fast as the rest, and still ceased not to beat him till the bloud burst plentifully out in most places, then they let him lie still bound, with this exhortation, that hee should from that time foorth know his owne Wife from other mens, and that this punishment was but a fle [...]biting in respect of that which should followe, if hee amended not his manners. Thus leauing him blowing and foming for paine and melan­choly that he could not be reuenged of them, they vanished away and had this Mort with them, safely conuaying her out of the towne. Soone after commeth into the barne one of the good mans boyes to fet some hay for his horse, who finding his mai­ster fast bound and greeuously beaten with rods, was sodainly abashed, and would haue run out to call for helpe, but his mai­ster bid him vnbind him, and make no words thereof, for I will be reuenged well inough, yet after better aduise hee thought it meeter to let the same passe, than (as the prouerbe is) to awake a sleeping dogge. And by my troth (quoth this walking Morte) I come now from that place, and was neuer there since this part was plaid, which is somewhat more than a yeare: and I heare a very good report of him now, that hee loueth his Wyfe well, and liueth honestly: now tell me was not this a good acte. It was pretely handled quoth I, is this all? yea quoth she, here is the end.

A Doxe. Cap. 20.

THese Doxes be broken and spoyled of their maydenhead by the vpright men, and then they are called Doxe, & not afore: afterward she is common for any that will vse her, as h [...] mo is a common name to all men. Such as be faire and somewhat handsome, keepe company with the walking Morts▪ & are rea­die alwais for the vpright men, and chiefly mantained by th [...] [...]t the other inferior sort will resort to noble mens places, & Gen­tlemens houses, standing at the gate, or lurking on the backside in some out house, or vnder som hedge or thicket, expecting their pray, which is, for the vncomly company of some courteous gest that will refresh them with meat and some money, where ex­change is made ware for ware: this bread and meat they vse to carry in their great hosen, so that these beastly bribing breeches serue many times for bawdy purposes. I chanced not long since familiarly to commune with a Doxe that came to my gate, and surely a pleasant harlot, and not so pleasant as witty, and not so witty as void of all grace and goodnes▪ I founde by her talke that she had passed her time lewdly eighteene yeres in walking [Page] about. I thought this a necessary instrument to attaine some knowledge by, and before I would grope her mind, I made her both to eate and drinke well: that done, I promised her some money if she would open and discouer to me such questions as I would aske of her, & neuer to bewray her, nor disclose her name. And you should saith she▪ I were vndone: feare not that quoth I, but I pray thee say nothing but truth. I will not q. I: Then first tell me quoth I, how many vpright men and Roges doest thou know, or hast thou knowne and beene conuersant with, & what their names be: she paused a while, and demanded of him why he did aske. For nothing els said I, but to know them whē they come to my gate. Now by my troth quoth she then are you neuer the neare, for all my acquaintance for the most part are dead. Dead quoth I, how dyed they, for want of cherishing, or of painfull diseases? Then she sighed and said they were han­ged. What all quoth I, and so many walke abroad as daily I see? By my troth said she, I know not past six or seuen by their names and named them to me. When were they hanged quoth I? Some seuen yeares ago, some three yeares, and some with­in this fortnight, and declared wher they were executed, which I knew well to be true by the report of others. Why q. I, did not this fearefull sight much greeue thee for thy time long and euill spent. I was sorry quoth she, for some of them were louing men: for I lacked not when they had it, and they wanted not when I had it, and diuers of them I neuer did forsake till the gallowes parted vs. O mercifull God quoth I, and beganne to blesse mee. Why do you so quoth she? alas you know that euerie one must haue a liuing. Other matters I talkt of, but this now may suffise to shew the Reader as it were in a glasse the bolde beastly life of these Doxes. For such as haue gone any time a­broad, will neuer forsake their trade to die therfore, I haue had good proofe thereof. There is one a notorious harlot of this af­finitie, called Besse Bottomley, she hath but one hand, and shee hath murthered two children at the least.

A Dell. Cap. 21.

A Dell is a yong wench able for generation, and not yet bro­ken by the vpright man. These go abroad yoong, eyther by the death of their parents, and no body to looke vnto them, or els by some sharpe mistresse that they serue, doe runne out of seruice, or els she is naturally borne one, and then she is a wild Dell: these are broken very yoong, when they haue beene layen withall by the vpright men, then they be Doxes and no Dels. These wilde Dels beeing traded vp with their monstrous mo­thers, must of necessitie be as euill or worse than their parents, [Page] for neither wee gather grapes from greene bryars, neither figs from thistles: but such buds, such blossoms▪ such euil seed sown, well worse beeing growne.

A Kinching Morte. Cap. 22.

A Kinching Mort is a little Girle, the Morts their mothers carry them at their backes in their slates, which is theyr sheetes, and brings them vp sauagely till they growe to be ripe, and soone ripe, soone rotten.

A Kinching Co. Cap. 23.

A Kinching Co is a yong boy, traded vp to such peeuish pur­poses as you haue heard of other yoong ympes before, that growing to yeares, are better to hang than to draw forth.

Thei. vsage in the night. Cap. 24.

NOw I thinke it not vnnecessary to make the Reader vn­derstand, how and in what manner they lodge a nights in barns and backhouses, and of their vsage there, for asmuch as I haue acquainted them with their orders and practises in the day time: The arch and chiefe walkers that hath walked a long time, whose experience is great, because of their continuall practise, I meane all Morts and Doxes, for their handsomnes and diligence for making of their couches. The men neuer tro­ble themselues with that thing, but takes the same to be the du­tie of the wife. And shee shuffels vp a quantitie of straw or hay into some pretie corner of the barne, where she may conuenient­ly lye, and well shaketh the same, making the head somwhat hie, and driues the same vpon the sides till it be like a bed, then shee layeth her wallet or some other little packe of rags or scrip vn­der head in the straw, to beare vp the same, and layeth her pet­tycote or cloke vpon and ouer the straw, so made like a bed, and that serueth for the blanket [...] then she layeth her s [...]ate, which is her sheet vpon that, if she haue no sheet (as few of them go with out) then she spreadeth some large clou [...]s or rags ouer the same, and maketh her ready, and layeth her drowsily downe. Manie will pull off their smocks, and lay the same vpon them in steade of their vpper sheet, and all her other pelt and trash vppon her also, but many lie in their smocks: and if the rest of her clothes in cold weather be not sufficient to keepe her warme, then she ta­keth straw or hay to performe the matter. The other sorte that haue no slates, but tumble downe, and couch a hogshead in their clothes, these bee still lowsie and shall neuer bee without ver­ [...] vnlesse they put off their clothes, and lye as is abouesaide. [Page] If the vpright man come in where they lye, he hath his choise, and creepeth in close by his Doxe, the Roge hath his leauings. If the Morts or Doxes lie or be lodged in some farmers barn, and the doore be either locked or made fast to them, then wil not the vpright man presse to come in vnlesse it bee in barnes & out houses standing alone, or some distance from houses, which bee commonly knowne to them. As S. Quintens, three Cranes in the Vintrey, S. Tybbes, and Knapsbury, These foure be with­in one myle compasse neare vnto London. Then haue you foure more in Middlesex: Draw the pudding out of the fire, in Har­row on the hill parish, the Crosse [...]e [...]es in Cranford parish, S. Iulians in Chistleworth parish, the house of pittie in North hall parish. These are the chiefe houses neare about London, where commonly they resort vnto for lodging, and may repaire thither freely at all times. Sometime shall come in some Roge, some picking knaue, a nimble Prigge, hee walketh in softly on nights when they be at rest and plucketh of as many garments as be ought worth, that he may come by, and may easily carrie, and runneth away therewith, and maketh porte sale at some conuenient place of theirs▪ that some be soon readie in the mor­ning for want of their Casters and Togemans: where in stead of blessing, is cursing: in place of praying, pestilent prating, with odious othes and terrible threatnings. The vpright men haue giuen all these nicke names to the places abouesaid. Yet haue we two notable places in Kent, not farre from London: the one is betweene Detford and Rothered, called the Kinges Barne, standing alone, that they haunt commonly: the other is Ketbroke, standing by Black heath halfe a mile from any house. There will they boldly draw the latch of the doore, and goe in when his family be at supper, and sit downe without leaue, and eate and drinke with them, and eyther lie in the hall by the fire all night, or in the Barne, if there bee no roome in the house for them. If the doore be eyther bolted or lockt, and be not opened vnto them when they will, they will breake the same open to his further cost. And in this barne sometime do lie forty vpright men with their Doxes together at one time. And this must the poore Farmar suffer, or els they threaten to burne him, and all that he hath.