How Maister Peter deceiued the Diuell with a Candles end.

AT the first entrance of M. Peter into the Art of Ma­gick, by charmes, spells, and incantations, he raised a spirit, and with the spirit concluded▪ that if he would be obedient to him, serue, helpe, and [...]rther him, at such [Page] times, and in such thinges, as hee should comma [...]nd, his soule should bee his reward. This Fire-brand of Hell (with great signe of reioycing) yéelded and serued him (as his slaue or vassaile) with very great diligence, in many matters and imployments. UUhen this offictious ser [...]ant thought hee had béene at his commaunde long in­ough, (for no terme or time was set at the contract) hee demaunded his commaunders soule, as the rewarde of his p [...]ynes. UUhy (sayde Master PETER) I haue ma [...]e thee a promise, thou shouldst haue it, and thou shalt haue it, but not yet: when it hath left my body (by my death) take it to thée, till then thou mayest not haue it, so rest thee contented. Then the spirit beganne to threa­ten, and terrifie him to make him set a time of payment for his pleasure: and so affrighted him, that hée knew not what or how to answere him. Come (quoth the Deuill) be bréefe, for Lucifer euery minute, lookes for that soule of thine. Is there no remedy (quoth Maister Peter) wilt thou allow mée no time, to set my businesse in order, and take my leaue of my friends ere I goe? allow mee some small time for that, and doe thy will. Why how long time (quoth the Deuill? desirest thou I should allow thée? why ifaith (quoth master Peter no long time: spare me but till this inche-long end of candle (pointing to the Candle bur­ning in his study) and take my soule. UUell (quoth the Deuill) though by my charge I can hardly stay a minute, Ile stay so long: about it presently. If I neglect or ore-slip my time (qd. M. Peter) take thou the aduantage of it: yet one request more thou must grant me. What is that (qd. the deuil) Marry this (qd. M. Peter) to confirme thy promise with an oath: I am very loath to trust thée on thy bare word for all the world reputes thee but a knaue▪ therefore come sweare to forbeare mée till this candle is burned. By Hell I will (qd. the Deuill) and by great Lucifer, As I hope to draw downe thousand soules to the déepe Abisse (the place of my abode) I will forbeare thée till that candle is burned. [Page] Then Maister Peter, prese [...]tly after his hellish protesta­tion, put the candle out, and into his pocket: looke heere (quoth hee) till this is burnt, thou maiest not claime my soule: Ile keepe this safe enough from burning out and so kéepe that thou lookst for safe enough. Go I command thée, and tell thy proud Lord Lucifer, how finely I haue ouer­reached thee.

When the Deuill saw he was so cunningly deceiued by Maister PETER, with many bitter execrations he left him.

How Maister Peter deceiued the Deuill againe.

Not long after the Deuill had bin thus deceiued by the merry Deuill, Maister Peter Fabell, hee went a­gaine to him, and finding him a sleepe, tooke the end of the candle (before spoken of) out of his pocket, and awaked him: when he had so done, he shewed him the end of the candle.

Looke heere (sayd hee) héere is that thou keptst to keepe me from my right (thy soule I meane) when this is burnt, thy soule must burne with mine: Ile quickely burne it now (Ile warrant thee.)

When Maister Peter saw he had lost his candle, (vpon the losse of which lay the losse of his soule, if his policie had not once more helped him out) he intreated him to spare him a little longer.

No, no (sayd the Deuill, all intreates are vaine, thou hast deceiued me once, thou shalt deceiue me no more. Tis a good world, when men are so cunning in deceit▪ as to deceiue the Deuill: but it is no matter, thou art so much the redier for me.

Yet heere me speake (quoth Maister Peter) and as thou likest my speech so deale with me.

Well be breefe then (quoth the Deuill) what hast thou now to say?

No more but this (qd. Maister Peter) if thou wilt spare [Page] till my timely death, put that thou seekest into thy hands, Ile labor all the time I haue to liue for Hells aduantage: Ile beare more soules along with me to Hell then twenty of [...]our cunnings [...] Deuills shall.

Shall I once more trust thee (quoth the Diuell) on thy word? well, sweare, Why (sayd Maister Peter) by the blacke riuer, Lucifer thy Lord sweares by, I sweare I will: and when I am buried, either within the Church, without the Church, in the Church porch, Church-yard Stréet, field, or high way, take thou my soule.

Well (quoth the Deuill) in hope thou wilt gaine me many soules to thine, take thy rest, and so he left him.

Many yeares after when Maister Peter Fabell by his white haires, weakenesse, aches, and such like signes per­ceiued he could not liue long: he went and digd his death­bed in the Church wal, and there rested day & night hartyly praying & repenting him of all the euill he had committed.

When the hower was well nigh come, that should se­perate his soule and body, the Deuill went to him againe and blam'd him for neglecting his businesse by promise, and withal tould him he was come for his soule. When Maister Peter heard that word, hee presently started vp and char­ged him to depart, my soule (sayd he) thou comest too soone, and yet to late to haue it: he that redéemed my soule hath took't to keepe, thou canst not haue it.

Didst thou not sweare (qd. the fiend) that I should haue thy soule at y ^e houre of death? thou didst, and I will haue it. I (sayd Maister Peter) when I am buried either within the Church, without the Church, in the Church-porchChurch-yard, stréet, field, or high-way, take thou my soule.

See foolish fiend thou art deceiued againe, this hole is my graue, If this be either within the Church, without the Church, in the Church porch Church yard, street, field, or high-way, my soule is thine: thou séest it is not. therefore I charge thee (so deceiued) depart. Still the Deuill was very eager on him for his soule, till at last, by his earnest [Page] praires & zealous Inuocations he forst him to run roaring to hel againe without it.

How Maister Peter Fabell, punished a Fryer and his Lemon for their knauery.

MAister Peter Fabell one morning very early, walking the fields (as his custome was, to meditate by him­selfe) spied a Fryer at prayers vpon his beads, very deuot­ly, when Maister Peter saw him so earn [...]st in his praiers he went to him, & demanded of him what his reason was, that his chamber would not serue, for his prayers as well as that place. Oh! sir (said the Fryer) all places are alike to me for this businesse, & all times, for I pray when the pricke of conscience commes vpon me, in what place, or at what time soeuer. I commend thée much (quoth Maister Peter) thou art an honest fellow, and so for that time they parted.

The next morning Maister Peter went againe: & againe found this Fryer in the place where he left him, y ^e morning before so deuoutly praying, but not at that holy excercise, y ^e spirit did not mooue him, vnlesse the euil spirit mooued him, for instead of his booke and beads, he had got a wench, and sat colling her so close, and kissing her so thicke, kisse vpon kisse, y ^t she could hardly fetch her wind for him. A good while stood M. Peter behind a hollow trée vnséene, seeing them ticke and toy together, at last to fright them from their venery, he went into the trée and with a heauy hollow voice, cried [...]ut to the Fryer in this manner: Frier, Frier, Frier, the Frier hearing a voice, presently started vp, and looked round a bout him to sée if he could finde the Maister of that tongue y ^t called him: but in vaine he stood looking for he stood farre enough from his eye, though he were close to his eare. When the Fryer had stood a good while looking about him, first on y ^e one side, then on the other, and could spy no body, like a kind letcherous bald-pate, very hand­somely, or rather very knauishly, he went to his wench a­gaine. Hée was no sooner layed downe, but Maister Peter y ^e second time, cried out (to disturb him) Fryer, fryer, Fryer. [Page] At this second call the Fryer halfe affrighted, started vp a­gaine, and lookt about him (a tiptoe) to see if he could finde a body to that voice: but hee found none.

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

No faith chucke (quoth the Fryer) I can see no man: and yet surely this voice, is the voice of a man. But it is no matter, let it be what it will, if we cannot see it sure we cannot feele it. Come chucke let's busse and be merry, be o [...] good comfort and crosse thy selfe, and I warrant thée safe for a farthing, downe lay ould bald-pate againe: b [...]t before he could giue her three kisses, the voice raised him the third time, crying as before, Fryer, Fryer, Fryer. Then the Fryers face beganne to bewray his feare: he had no more colour in his face, at that time, (though at all other times he had coloure enough) then one of these fine whay fac'd oate-meale eaters, or a wench troubled with the greene sickenesse.

Fryer, frier, frier, (said Maister Peter) (still kéeping him­selfe close in the hollow trée) hée that sées thée now, vnséene of thée, sees at all times, in all places, and all these thy actions.

Heere yesterday I saw thee at thy prayers verie deuot­ly, with thy booke and beades is this the booke thou brin­gest to pray on now? doth the pricke of conscience mooue thee to doe this? speake thou blacke sinner. There thou hast red thy damnation without present repentance, and pennance. Therefore presently, both of you, if you re­spect more the good of your soules, then of your bodyes, by the pennance I shall appoynt you, purge your selues: when the Fryer and his wench heard these wordes, they wore verilie perswaded in their mindes that it was the voice of an Angell they both kneeled downe, very reuerently toge­ther, and sayd, thy will be done: appoynt our pennance, [Page] and we are ready (with all willingnes) to indure it. Then (sayde Maister Peter) you both shall presently be whipt, from this place (the place where you offended) in­to the Town and about the town. This suffer & desire you to be done by the next man comes [...]éere you, and this sin is forgiuen you, refuse this, & despairi [...]g die damd wretches.

This or what else it shall please thee to inflict or lay vp­on vs, for this sinne (quoth the Fryer) we will patiently suffer.

Then Maister Peter presently stept out of the hollow trée, and went (very cunningly) round about on the backeside of a hedge, and came directly vpon them, as if he had ment to passe by them.

As soone as euer they saw him, they very humbly on their knees tould him, that in that place they had offended, and for that offe [...]ce, they were by the voice of an Angell, commanded to take present pennance, or their soules could not be saued.

And what (saide Maister Peter) is the pennance com­maunded?

Marry this sir (said the Fryer) to be whipt by the next man came neare vs, from this place (the place where we offended) to the towne, and about the towne, and this sin should be forgiuen vs. If we refuse this (this was our heauie sentence) to liue in despaire, and die damd wretches.

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

Well (quoth Maister Peter) though I am loath to play the beadle, Ile doe thy request, you shall not be damd for want of a whipping.

To be short, Maister Peter tied the right hand of the fri­er, and the left hand of his wench together, and hauing so done (with a sound smarting rod of willow) Ierkt them to the towne before him.

[Page]There in the view of all the people, he lasht them from one end of the towne to the other, telling them at euery second or third stripe, of the haniousnesse of their fault. When he had thus soundly whipt the lecherous bald-pate, and his Lemman, with most pittifull bloudy backs, he left them, and loosing their hands, he gaue the Fryer this caueat.

Take heed good Fryer, Of Venus fire, You see the hire, Of foule desire.

And so farwell, I haue done your request, if at any time you haue occasion to vse me, in such a péece of seruice, command me. Away went he very hartily laughing, and the Fryer and his wench, very heauily weeping.

How Smug woone a wager of Maister Peter Fabell by a tricke that he did.

AS one day Maister Peter Fabell, (an excellent Schol­ler and well séene in the Arte of Magicke) was con­ferring with certaine of his friends, about certaine busines and imployments, Smug being in the hearing of them, be­twéene druncke and sober (for he had béene plying the pit­cher in Maister Peters sellar) ran nodding in amongst thē, and the very first word he spake to them was, how doe you my Maisters. They being in very serious talke, vnwil­ling to be disturbed wit [...] his foolish ba [...]ling, with verie faire wordes, requested him to leaue them a little, and within halfe an hower (or such a thing) they would giue him the hearing of that he had to say to them. But he (like an importunate begger) tould them he would not leaue them till he had spoke his minde to Maister Peter.

When they saw there was no remedy, but he would haue his will, come (sayd Maister Peter) honest Oliuer, be breefe, vtter thy ignorance roundly, what hast thou to say to me now? Marry quoth Smug, Maister Peter, I heere say you are a very cunning Gentleman, and that you haue done as many fine trickes and feates in your time as ere a Iugler in all Europe has done, what will you say now, if a plaine fellow, a hard-handed laborer, a poore lea­therne-apron-wearer, [Page] do [...]uch a [...]unning tricke, as you M. Peter with the helpe of all your great gogle [...]ide, bottle [...]osd, blobber [...]lipt, bladder cheekd, béetle-browed, ore hea­ded, detestable Deuils, ca [...]not doe the like. Why honest Smug qd. M. Pet [...]r who or where is he that will do this? marry (qd. Smug) I am he. Art t [...]ou he quoth M. Peter? who would thinke thou hadst such trickes in thy budget? I prethee Smug tell m [...], dost not thou (as thou saiest I doe) vse the helpe of some infernall? hast thou no Deuill in thy tricke? come tell me: Deuill (qd. Smug) marry God blesse me M. Peter, I cannot indure to looke vpon these filthy foule-mouthed fire-spitters, no Maister Peter, what I do, I will doe of my extraordinary witt and inuention. Well let's (heare qd. M. Peter) what is it you will doe? Marry this Ile doe qd. Smug, Ile set a candle burning in the midst of this roome where we all are, open and eas [...]e to be séen as my hand: This candle M. Togood shall see M. Dauby, M. Doutv, Mistris Friskin, and my man Ralph heere yet you shall not see it, masse Smug (quoth M. Peter) if thou canst doe such a tricke, thou putst me downe indeed. Come be­gin, let vs see it done, nay first (quoth Smug) let vs haue a lay vpon it, Ile not shew my skill for nothing. Agréed (qd. M. Peter) what shall the wadger be? why faith (qd. Smug) M. Peter you know my minde for that, I loue alwayes when I make a wager, rather to haue it wet then drie, for you know M. Peter I am dry of my selfe, and ye say y ^e word, the wager shall be a dozen of double ale, you know I am merry Smug, and merry Smug must haue his merry go down, or els he is no body. Well I agree (qd. M. Peter) h [...]ere is my hand, if thou perform'st what thou hast sayde, Ile loose & Ile pay it. Then Smug cald for a candle & a can­dle stick which when he had, he placed M. Peter in y ^e mid­dle of the roome, & set the candle-stick with the candle bur­ning in it vpon his head: now M. Peter sayd▪ hée do you see this candle, why no (qd. M. peter) how should I sée it? is it possible for a man to see the crowne of his head? you can­not [Page] see it then qd. Smug, no, I cannot sée it sayd hée. Then Smug demaunded of the rest (before named) whe­ther they did s [...]e it or no, they all answered I, asking how they could chuse but see it, why looke you (quoth Smug) al these see it, and yet you cannot see it, they say they can­not chuse but see, and yet you say it is impossible for you to see it.

Come Maister Peter, you know what you haue los [...]? and there had béen a Kingdome laide on it, when Maister peter saw how prettily Smug had ouer reached him, he (smiling) sent for his losses, and in pastime made Smug take▪ his well woon liquor, so soundly that he lay by the walls for y ^e night.

HOw Smug when He was mad drunke, would needs go to fight with the shadowe of a sworde and Buckeler.

SMug one day being angred amongst a company of true drunkards (like himselfe) came chafing out of the Ale-house, like a mad man (as you know Drunkards and mad men are not much vnlike) vowing to be reuenged, or hee would neuer drinke draught of good drinke againe, as long as he had a day to liue, and so chafing, réeled homeward, as fast as his leggs would giue him leaue.

This réeling infirmity, threw poore Smug from poste to poste and from wall to wall, heere he knockt his face a­gainst one stocke, there against another, till halfe the wilde blood in his body, was runne out at his nose.

Still on he staggered, till he came to a seate (neare his home) vnder a signe of the Sword and buckler: where hée sate a while to rest him, and as he sate like an honest man, carefull to keepe both ends together, cast vp (as neare as he could without either pen or counters) what he had recei­ued in the day before.

But all his casting could not cast the remembrance of [Page] his quarrell out of his minde: for stil he sate railing against his pot companions most greiuously, calling them Scoun­drels, Scabes, Slaues, Knaues, and perpetually dambd drunken Rogues.

As he sate thus fretting and chafing, vowing to be re­uenged▪ hee spyed (as he thought) the instruments of [...]e­uenge lying before him: For it was a faire Moone-shine night, and the shaddow of the signe he sate vnder, seeme to him to be no lesse then that it came off, the very sworde and buckler that hung ouer his head, vnseene or vnthought off.

Now you Rogues and Raggamuffins (qd. Smug) Ile ticle you yfaith, Ile eene make no more a doe, but take vp my tooles, and to them againe, by Pharoh, by this Sunne that shines, sai [...]e hee (and looked vp to the Moone) Ile kill them all, though euery one of them, had as many liues as a Cat: presently stooping to take vp his supposed sword and buckler, hee fell flat on the ground (for his head was so heauy, that when hee had put it downwards, he could not raise it vp againe for his life.) There lay hee sprau­ling and groping about, to get his Sword and Buckler in­to his hands, so long, that hee fell fast a sleepe, and wa­ked not till morning he was fetched home by a couple of his honest neighbours.

How Smug laid a wager with certaine Shooma­kers, that he was a shooe-maker, proo­ued it, and wone the wager.

THree or foure honest good fellowes of the gentle craft, trau [...]lling together with Sir HVGHES bones at their backs to get worke, passing through EDMONTON, went to an Ale-house (y ^e very next doore to Oliuer Smugs) to drinke, where when they had sitten a quarter of an houre, or there a bouts, drinking healthes (very kindly and curteously) one to another, and to all good fellowes [Page] of their craftes and acquaintance, to make themselues merry, they sung a song in three partes very orderly and well

Smug (as hee was at his worke) hearing them sing so merrily, presently left his worke and went to them a­gaine, bearing in either hand a full Cann of the best li­quor.

Heere my old Lads of mettle (quoth hee) heeres to you, and to all good fellow Shoo-makers in Europe, of which number, (for want of a better) I my selfe make one.

Wh [...] sir (quoth one of them) are you one of the gentle­craft? faith (qd. Smug) I am as I tell you, an honest good fellow▪ and a shoomaker, and for the lo [...]e I heare to all kinde shoomakers, I haue made thus bould to come and drinke with you.

They all (very curteously) welcomed him into their com­pany, and made him sit downe amongst them.

When they had sitten a pretty while together drinking and singing very merrily, one being a mad wag amongst them (aboue all the rest) suspecting Smug to bee (as hee was indeede) a Smith, looked very earnestly vpon him, and about him, to finde something about him that might truely tell him whether hee was as he sayde he was, yea or no.

At last prying very narrowly, he spied his hammer hang­ing vnderneath his appron, in a great round brasse ring.

Then halfe angrie with Smug, because hee toulde him hee was a Shooe-maker and was not, hee begann to ieast flout and scoffe at him, shewing to the rest of his fellowes and companions, the hammer that hung vnder his apron.

Why (sayd another of them) my honest friend, came you hether to flout vs? wherefore haue you tould vs you are that you are not? Why (quoth Smug) what did I tell you that I was? why (quoth hee) you did tell vs [Page] you were as wee are, a Shooe-maker, I did indeede (quoth Smug) I toulde you so, and againe I tell you so, and will make good my worde vpon a wager with the best of you all, agreed (quoth one) what shall the wager be?

Why yfaith (quoth Smug) I thinke you doe intend to trauell no farther then this Towne to night, and you say the word the Wager shall bee a shot of fiue shillings to bee spent in sheare drinke: what say you sirs are you conten­ted with it? If you be strike handes and a match.

A match (sayd they) I know (sayd one of them) you are a Townesman, and therefore we shall not need to goe farre for a touch-stone to try you.

Presently came a Seruing man into the Ale-house to SMVG, and desired him for Gods sake to giue ouer his drinking and to goe to worke, for his Maisters Horse staid for shooes: What doe you now thinke my Maisters (quoth Smug) you see I am now sent for, and m [...]st goe presently to put on a paire of shooes, will you yeeld you haue lost? why looke you heere then my mad bullies, héere's a shooe (pulling a horse shooe out of his pocket) of mine owne making, what say you now? am I a Shoomaker yea or no? A Shoee-maker (quoth one of them) heere is a shooe indeede, but it is a Horse shooe, nay (quoth Smug) ile prooue it to be a Shooe and no Horse shooe, for I made it for Mosse his Mare of ENFIELD, but be it Mares Shooe or Horse shooe, a shooe it is, and I the maker, Ergo, I am a Shoo-maker because I made it.

Therefore come, deliuer your pursses of a fiue shillings peece, or so many small peeces as a mounts to so much, and let vs stand close to our liquor, for I thinke long till I see it.

The shoomakers for all this wold not yéeld they had lost [Page] would needs haue him into the Towne for further triall: But all gaue Iudgement on Smugs side, that hee was a shooe-maker, and had wone the wager. Then the shoo-makers, when they saw there was no remedy, turnd backe with Smug to their old ho [...]esse, and paid their loss [...]s, with the losse of their wits for that night.

How merrily Smug answered one that gaue him good counsaile.

SMug one day being set in the midst of his merry mates, swaggering and swilling very quicke in carousing and calling in for more, as if he had had Fortunatus his purse in his pocket, was by an honest well gouerned man, that sate by, (and noted his humor) sharpely reprooued, and after reprehension kindly admonisht, with the [...]e ensew­ing verses.

To which Smug merrily and very readily, made this an­swer.

And so fell to his liquer againe, til (contrarie to his mer­ry answer) it made his quicke wit grow duller: For with­in one halfe houre or more, he had not one wise word to spare, though he might haue had a Kings ransome for it.

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

SMug on a time, as he was steali [...]g venis [...]n, hearing the Kéeper in the Pa [...]ke, got vp into a trée, to keepe out of sight till hee were past by him, which hee did: Scapi [...]g the Keepers eye, and so consequently his hand very han­somely. But sitting there a little while, prying and pée­ping betweene the branches (like an Owle in an Iuy bush) to see if the coast were cleare, he spied the Mother Nun of Chestone, with three or foure young ones, (attired in white long robbes, with railes and tippets, as they vsed to weare) comming towards him with a little bell ru [...]g before them, sprinkling holy water, and praying vpon their beades very deuoutly: withall the circumstances of that ceremony they vsed when they receiued a sister into that holy order.

The very sight of these holy creatures, made Smug quiuer, quake, and shake like the leaues of the tree hee sate vpon, for he thought verily they had beene Spirits Fu­ries, Fiends or Hobgoblins, that had come thether a pur­pose to carry him away for stealing of Uenison, but they (poore soules) ment no more harme to him, then he to them, but past by, not casting so much as a looke vpon him.

When they were past him, his heart (that till then was as heauie as a poore pittifully paind spittle-mans) was as light as a Morris dauncers: And very lightly (from knot to knot,) got he from the toppe of the trée, thi [...]ki [...]g to haue runne to his fellowes that stayed for him: but by that time he was gotten from the bowes to the roote, the Nuns was turned backe againe vpon him.

When hee saw t [...]ere was no way to get from them, suddainely hee stept right before them, and (vppon his [Page] knees with a streatcht throate (like an ould bawling broome-man) desired them for Gods sake not to hurt him and he would neuer walke so late a Deare-stealing againe while hee liued, and still he yawled, and bawled (with his hands claspt together in very pittifull manner) as though hee would haue rent his winde-pipe.

This good old Nun, so suddainely incountred, by such a roaring raggamuffin, knew not what to do, but ranne as fast from him as ere shee could, and all her young ones after her like so many young ones after the dam, shee run not so fast one way to leaue him, but he run as fast tother waies to leaue her, and to finde out his fellowes. When he had found them, he tould them (in boasting manner) how he met with a company of Spirits in the parke, and they durst not abide the sight of him. Therefore be of good cheare my Maisters (sayd he) if Spirits be affraid to looke vpon mee, and run so fast from me, I hope the sneaking Keeper dares not abide my furie, and so they past on againe to their théeuing pastime.

How Smug, presuming vppon his courage, after this ex­ploite, (frighting, these supposed spir­rits) would needs go the next euening, againe a Deare stealing: and how deere he paid for it.

THe next euening SMVG and his fellowes went a­gaine a Deare stealing, but it was a deere Deare-stealing to him and the rest of his companions, for they had not bene in the Parke aboue a quarter of an houre priuily peaking about for their prey, but they spyed the Keeper well weaponed with his great mastiue dog at his héeles. Now out alas sayd the Parson, what shall we doe my maisters? what shall we doe? good Bancks, as thou art an honest Miller, and wouldest haue me pray for the for the forgiuenesse of tole-dish sinne, tell me what I shall doe.

[Page]Why alas good sir Iohn (quoth the Miller, what should I tell you, I know neither what to doe nor say for my selfe, what sayest thou Smug? thou seest we are all in danger: I preethe good Oliuer, as thou louest a good fellow, and good fellowshipe, as thou louest that, thou knowest wee all loue good liquor, giue vs some good counsell, and good Smug be breefe, for thou seest our de­struction is at hand.

Why alas my Maisters (sayde Smug) what would you haue me say or doe? By Vulcan I protest, I knowe not what to saye to you: I would I were at my Forge, you good Sir Iohn, a sleepe in the bell [...] frye, and Bancks in his Mill, or I would we were all there, that wee might bee as safe as a theefe in the Mill.

As they stood there prating and talking the one to the o­ther, they saw the Kéeper comming directly towards them: Oh now Smug, (quoth Sir Iohn) sticke to vs, all my trust is in thee, I prethee good Smug shew thy selfe as valiant now against this keeper, as thou didst against the Spirits, and Hobgoblings thou meetest heere the last night.

If thou beest remembred, thou gauest vs wordes of comfort then, and didest bid vs all be of good cheere, and feare nothing▪ for thou saidst thou wouldst make the s [...]ea­king keeper fly from thee, as fast as thou madst them flie. Now hon [...]st Oliuer, be as good as thy word, make them [...]lie and de [...]end vs, and I euen I Sir Iohn your mad-merry Parson, will pray to God for thy health and wel­fare, as long as I haue a day to drinke in: Why content you Sir Iohn (sayde Smug) Ile see what I can doe, go you two and lie close behind that hedge: If I haue but as good lucke against this scuruie keeper, this night as I had against my little long taild-hobgoblins the last nig [...]t, wéele not leaue the Parcke, without that we came for. They (as Smug to [...]ld them) went behind the [...]edge & left him alone to deale with the kéeper: but alas for all his big looks [Page] and brauing wordes, the Keeper thwackt him so soundly that hee made him lye sprawling on the ground, and so left him.

When the Miller and the Parson (peeping through the hedge) saw the Keeper gone, and poore Smug lye in such a pittifull case, they went to him, now alas poore Smug (sayd sir Iohn) how ist? what cheare man? I perceiue your furious lookes could not fright away the Kéeper, as it did the Spirits you tould vs of.

Oh Sir Iohn (sayd Smug) this Kéeper is a Deuill, hee hath payed me yfaith, and yet all these blowes greeue [...]e not so much Sir Iohn as that you and my neighbour Mil­ler did not stay to take part with me, for you would haue had your share in the venison as deepe as I, and I had thought he had béene worse to deale withall then Spirits, the Deuill should haue dealt with him ere I would haue come into his clutches.

Smug had no sooner spoke this word, but the Keeper was vpon them againe, and mightily inraged against them all, gaue the Miller and the Parson as much as hee had giuen SMVG, and sent them all halting home toge­ther.

How Smug was reuenged vpon a Barber, (his riuall) that made him kisse his tayle

AS honest Smug loued (as he loued his life) the soci­etie of his bearded associates, so in like manner, lo­ued hee (sometime) to be mad merry, amongst a mad company of his bare-chind boone companions, his little wanton wagtailes: his sweet and twenties: his pretty pinckineyd pigsnies &c. as hee himselfe vsed commonly to call them.

Amongst all the kinde lasses hee vsed to keepe company withall, one (aboue all) he best loued, and by that one (a­boue all) he was least loued: for [...]ine Philippe the Bar­ber [Page] had so labored in trimming his best beloued Barbara (for so she was called) that hee when hee came to her, was as welcome as water into a ship, bad newes to a fore gréeued person, or the shaddow of a man to the long­ing mistris, of a long kept maiden-head.

To be short, one euening Smug went to sée his sweet Barbara, but when hee was come where he thought to haue bene very kindly welcome, to the house of his best beloued, to his great greife hee found the doores locked, bard, or boulted against him: shee he lookt for, lookd not for him, nor any other at that time: For she (as any kinde whore will be) was content with one at once, and one she had: The Deuill had put the Barber and shee together, and she was very loth that any man should put them a sunder. A good while Smug stood knocking, but no body would stirre to let him in then he went to the window, and there he kept a whewing, and a whistling to raise her, but all would not doe: Then hee fell to knocking with his knockles against the casement, and at last raised the Barber out of Barbaras bed, not in his owne likenesse, but in the likenesse of Barbara his best beloued: for the Barber like a subtile knaue slipt on his bed fellowes peticoate, night raile, & head tire, which became his haire-lesse face, as well as hers it was made for, and so went to the window in Barbaras apparell, he spake Barbaras voice as neare as he could, and past as currantly, with Smug in conference, as could be wisht. After many louing words, Smug desired hee might haue a kisse eare he parted, for the Barber (for Barbara, had tould him he might by no meanes be let in at that time)

This kinde he-she, very louingly yeeldes. I préethe sweete Smug, (qd. this fine counterfeit) come busse mée through this broken pane, that I will, yfaith (qd. Smug) with a good will as eare I came from Schoole, or went to the Ale-house: then I preethe sweet Smug (quoth the Barber come smake mee quickely, that I may to [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] bed againe, & to morrow Ile meet thée where thou wilt appoint me: why come sweet heart (qd. Smug) I am rea­dy, and thrust his lips as farre as he could into thorough the broken pane: Against Smugs lips, the Barber in­stead of his lips turned his A R. his lips I should haue said: Smug smackt, and smackt that swéetly fiue or six times together, ere he could tell what he kist. At last hée perceiued he was plaid the knaue withall and by whom: yet in pollicy very patiently put it vp, and with these words tooke his leaue. Farewell sweet Barbara, for the kindnesse thou hast showne me at this time, for all thy former kindnesse, and these swéet kisses, I rest by thee to be commanded, whensoeuer, wheresoeuer, and in whatsoeuer thou pleasest, and so sweet Barbara for a while God be with thee.

To bed went the Barber againe, & Smug, as fast as he could foot it home-wards: as late as he was when he came home, he found all his folkes hard at worke, and a heate in the fire ready to be striken out. Smug presently tooke the yron out of the fire (sparkeling hot) and ran as fast as ere he could, backe againe to Barbaras window, and there very hastily cald for his sweete Barbara: de­ [...]iring her most heartily to let him haue one busse more, and he [...]d raise her no more that night: the Barber pre­sently started vp to y ^e window againe as he had don be­fore, and (as he had done before) set his buttocke close to the broken pane, thinking that Smug (as he had done before would haue kist them: but instead of kissing, or putting his lips too, he put his hissing hot yron to him, and made him fly from the windowe, as fast, as if the great Deuill himselfe, and halfe a dozen little ones had bene at his taile. Now (qd. Smug) my neate trimmer, I haue trimd you about the hips, as wel as you haue trimd me about the lips: as you like this, play the knaue with me another time, and so farewell good plaster-maker, hie the home, & clap a plaister to it quickly, or thou't féele [Page] me when thou dost not see me. When Smug had thus reueng'd himselfe vpon his riuall, he left him crying and fretting, and went laughing home againe roundly.

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

TWo brothers (young gallants in Edmonton) who had often made them selues merry with Smugs company, had an equall desire to cornute▪ or in plaine termes, to cuckold honest Smug, éen [...] on that night his wedding day, not so much drawne to it by her beauty (for she was but a homely Smug lasse) or any part or quality in her, as a desire they had to do him that wrong, and especially vppon that night: priuie strife was be­twéene them, plotting and contriuing the one to deceiue and preuent the other. Upon the wedding day, as opor­tunity serued, the elder brother got the bride into a cor­ner, where he spent many perswasiue words to win her to accord to his as he called it) louing request: many of poore Smugs faults and imperfections he layd open, and withall his purse, with very large proffers to drawe her on the more easily: but all could not doe. She lik't neuer y ^e worse of her Smug (whom she had taken that morning for better, for worse,) for the dispraising of him, nor the better of him for all his large proffers: and therfore wild him to giue ouer his vnhonest suite, and be packing: for she was not a woman (how soeuer she séemed in his eie) of that vnchast disposition. This and many such like an­swers she made him, as very willing to be rid of him, but could not: for he, (scorning to shew a bashfull blush) came vpon her still, after her crosse answers, with a fresh sup­plie of smooth words, & left her not, till he made her (with the appointment of place & minute (make him promise y ^t he should haue his desire, but alas, y ^• promise past: not from herhe art, for she was of a settled conscience, y ^t no meanes might mooue her, neither proffer, persō, or any o­ther inducemēt whatsoeuer, to proue false to her Oliuer.

[Page]When he had thus receiued his answer, and was gone, his yonger brother priuily set vpō her to the same purpose, and with the answer he had was sent away ve­ry pleasant, but his expected pleasure was his paine in y ^e end. For she as soone as euer they had left her, acquain­ted her groom or her Bride-groome with their purpose & tould him that ten a clocke was the houre, and the Foxe chamber the place appointed, wishing him for that night to lie there alone in her stead, ready to receiue thē, or any of them. When Smug vnderstood by his wife (thouh he was almost past vnderstanding) the knauerie that was practised against him, after two or thrée smacking busses & thankes for her kindnesse in telling it, he began to talk to himselfe in this manner: A ha, my little mad Iingle­spurs would you be nibling? would you yfaith Lads? ile haue a bate shall bate your bouldnes a little, ile foxe you yfaith, come to the foxe chamber as soone as y [...]u will.

To be short, a little before the time appointed, Smug got him to bed in the Foxe-chamber against they or one of them should come: about the houre appointed, both the Brothers met in the dauncing roome, or Hall, for they must passe through that to the Fox prepared to performe their promises: but this vnhappy meeting had almost mar'd all for neither of thē durst enter in the other sight.

By and by, before a minute of the prefixed time was past, the younger slipt in whilst the elder stood talking amongst the dauncers, and to bed he went. Hée was no sooner got into his Hostesse (as he thought) but Smug stept out, and with an old dry boot he had (laide ready for that purpose) so be laboured this yong Mutton: mon­ger in his shirt, that he had bene as good haue had a sound whipping as that basting.

A ha quoth Smug, ile foxe you yfaith boy, doost thou thinke mine host of the George had a whore to his wife? no thou lecherous Babone, Smug is better liked off in his frize or Sheepe-skin, by his owne smug lasse, then ere a [Page] spruce sleeked gallant of you all.

Why I preethe good Smug (quoth the youngster) be contented, if I haue made thee a fault, I will make thée amends: Nay alas (qd. Smug) tis [...]o fault, I rather account my selfe, (for the kindenesse you would haue shewen to me) in your debte, but Ile pay you ere you and I part, and about him he layd againe: Then Smug made him slip on his cloathes, & beate him out a doores. When the elder Brother (who all the while he was as he thought) in the Foxe chamber with Smugs wife, saw how [...]e was guld by her, and baffed by him, hee smilde to himselfe, to thinke how well he was rewarded for his forwradnesse, and how cleanely he himselfe had escaped that scouring.

Why how now Brother (said hee) whats the matter? hath your Bed-fellow beate you? is shee such a Deuill? how chance you pleased her no better? please her (quoth he) the Deuill please her & him to, they haue pleased mée a plague on them, but it would haue pleased me better Brother, if you (as it was your desire this euening) had had my place.

Why Brother you may sée (quoth the elder) what it is to be so forward in seeking to deceiue your elders.

Well, come Brother, lets goe home and sleepe ho­nestly, for we sée whats got by tempting honesty, he has taught thée, and thou hast taught mee to take heede how we enter into any such action againe. Then home they hied them hand in hand, one smiling and iesting, and the tother fretting and chafing, cursing poore Smug, his wife, and the Foxe-chamber extreamely.

How Smug being drunke, lost his fellowes in the Parke, and how when they got together by whooping & hollowing, he tooke them for theeues, & would by no meanes know them till he was soundly thawackt by them and made to know his friends from his foes.

ANother time, Smug was fetch'd out of y ^e Ale-house by sir Iohn, the Miller, & mine host of the George, in such a case as it had bene fitter he should haue gone to bed to sléepe, then to the Parke a Deere-stealing, but drunke as he was they would haue him along with thē, for without him they were no body, he must néeds goe, though he could hardly stand alone.

Well, to y ^e Parke they got him with what great a­doe, consider of the case he was in, & imagine: when they were entred into the Parke, and were ready to enter vp­pon their businesse, they serued themselues euery one to his appoynted standing, with their weapons for that purpose, as Crosse-bowes, Long-bowes and staues.

Smug he was set (because he was not in case to take a steddy aime) to watch that the Keeper came not vppon them before they were aware, but while they were close at their busines, their centinell (honest Smug) forgetting both where he was, & also what charge he had taken in hand, went réeling downe y ^• Parke, cleane out of sight & hearing. When sir Iohn, the Miller, & the mad Host had strooke the stroake, made thē all glad men, & bound their prize vp hansomly together, they went to fetch their cen­tinell, but whē they were come to y ^e place where they set him, he was not to be found: body of me (qd. sir Iohn) what shall we do? kinde neighbours and friends, what shal we do? honest Sm [...]g with his head full of liquor is gone god knowes whether, I pray loue, he be not falne into some of these ditches, y ^• I hope he is not (qd. mine host) he was wet enough before▪ w [...] what a mad knaue is this Smug (qd. y ^e Miller (he is sure asleepe some where, faith then (qd. sir Ioh [...]) we were best giue ouer séeking for him by [Page] eye, & try what we can do by the voice. Then they [...]ell to whooping & hollowing, as loud as they could, that Smug might heare & answer thē: a good while they went who­ping & hollowing, but Smugs eare was to far off for their voices to reach, they could by [...]o meanes heare y ^• answe­ring hollow: the babling Eccho answered euery whoope they made, but Smug not one. So long they walked who­ping & hollowing vp & down, that the discouerer of euery bad action, y ^• morning was ready to discouer theirs, & yet Smugs hollow could not be heard. At last when they had giuen ouer hollowing: and were going without him, they heard him whoop, hush (qd. sir Iohn) I thinke I heare his voice, from whence comes it? masse & I heare it to (qd. mine Host) but from whence I know not. Why thē (qd. the Miller) we were best by our hollowing to kéepe him hollowing still, and so wée shall come to him Ile warrant you: They did as the Miller counselled them, and within lesse then a quarter of an houre had sight of him.

When they were come neare together, sir Iohn (out of the loue & good will he bare to Smug, stept forward be­fore his fellowes, and with an outstretched arme and smiling countenance would haue imbraced him,

But Smug in his drunken humor (not knowing him to be sir Iohn) nor y ^e Miller & mine Host that followed him, to be his old honest familiar copes-mates, tooke him such a knocke ore the pate, that he made M. Parson stagger like himselfe, though their causes were much vnlike why how now Smug (qd. the fiery fac'd Host) wilt thou fight w ^t thy friends? friends (qd. Smug) Foot you rogues doe you come to rob me? kéep out, kéepe out I aduise you, and you meane to go home againe to sée your wife & children (if you haue any) kéepe out, by Pharaoh you all die else.

Why I prethée Smug (qd. the Miller) put downe thy weapon, we are all thy friends, I prethée Smug (qd. mine Host) put thy staffe on thy shoulder, and lets go home to­gether, dost thou not know me? come giue me thy ha [...]d. [Page] That I will (quoth Smug) there, and knockt him ore the pate with his staffe: there's a hand for thee, and still stood striking at them, laying about him like a mad man.

When they saw he would by no faire intreaty come to the knowledge of them, they all layed at him, and well and soundly basted his sides: and by that time they had thwackt him soundly indeed, his wits were come to him.

Then he knew his friends from his foes, and desired them very kindly, (euery man by his name) to hold their hands, and very orderly & well, helped his fellow théeues to beare home their booty.

How Smug was deceiued of his red cap by his wife, and by that deceit forst to leaue his swaggering company, and go with her home to his labour.

AMongst diuers Articles that were agréed vpon be­twixt Smug and his wife, to be kept vnuiolated on either part, this was one.

That day that Smug had his red cap on, (which cap he cald his cap of maintenance) he was like a Lord of mis­rule, to haue rule and dominion ouer his wife, both at home, & abroad, that day he had to spend at his own plea­sure: to card, dice, drinke, drab, dominéere, and do all that it pleased him to doe, without any inturruption, or con­tradiction. But without that cap, he might doe nothing, but what stood with her good will and liking.

If any time he were gaming, drinking, dominéering &c. without this cap of authority, if his wife came into the place where he was, and did but hold vp her finger, he was presently to giue ouer his company, obey, and fol­low her home to his businesse.

One morning betimes, Smug was cald frō his worke by a company of true tospots (like himselfe) to go a foxe-catching, forth he went with his red cap vpon his head, [Page] swaggering, & swearing amongst his most abhominable boone companions, like the captaine of a gally Foi [...]t.

First they tasted liquor in one house, then in an o­ther, then an other, and so from house to house, till they had not left an Ale-house in all Edmonton vntas­ted.

At last whē their braines began to be dizzy, with run­ning so long in this maze of good fellowship, (as one euill leades to another (they went all as wise as Woodcocks to a house of iniquity, and there they dranke and swag­gered helter skelter: and to make them leape more the lustily, they sent for a noyse of minstrels, and after that pittifull noise, the treble and the Bag-pipe, they daunst all out of measure. One while this creeking musicke would go créeping after them like a tyred follower after his leader, and another while it would run so fast before them, that they were faine to run more then a Lackey pace to ouertake it▪

In the midst of this merry pastime, came Smugs wife fretting and chafing into the roome to fetch him home, but he by no meanes would giue ouer his pastime: it was his day, and he would spend it at his pleasure.

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

Why thou confounding Cockatrice (sayd he) dost thou not see my Cap of maintenance, my scarlet couloured Cappe. Am not I to doe my pleasure without checke or controule so long as this Cap is on my head? away. be gon, or by the life of Pharaoh ile be bumble thée, I tell thée, so long as this Cap is on my head I will not bee crost in mine humor. Then she perceiued it was but a folly to séeke by intreaty to get him home, and yet shee was very loath to leaue him behinde her in that disor­dered company.

[Page]A good while she stood musing with her selfe, what she were best to doe to get him along with her, in vaine she studied not, for her study begat a tricke that effected her will, and that was this.

Shee tooke her man Ralphs gray cap from his head, & very hansomely when she saw her husband was busie in talke (and had lost the sence of feeling) she tooke his red cap off, and put the gray cap on in the stead of it.

When she had so done, she plac'd her selfe right before him againe, and held vp her finger (for as is before said) at the holding vp of her finger, he was to fulfill her plea­sure, his red cap being from him.

When Smug saw her finger vp againe (little thinking of her subtilitie) he was very angry, and out of his anger said thus vnto her.

How darest thou presume to hould vp thy finger? and see this (poynting to his red cap as he thought) downe with that finger, or Ile set downe finger and body and all, by the life of Pharaoh, now by broad chek'd Bacchus that sweet swilling God of good fellowes, I will, shall I be crost in my humors? if my red cap were at home, & I heere, I would obey thée, but being both heere I will not.

Why you are deceiued (qd. shée your red cap is not heere and therefore you must and shall along with mee, look héere, is this your red cap (sayd she) and tooke it frō his head to shew it him) I pray you looke vpon it well.

When Smug had lookd vpon it well himselfe and had asked the Millers and the merry Priests Iudgment of the colour of his cap, & found it to be a gray cap, he looked as pale as a poore dispairing debtor, at the sight of a Sergeant, or his Cut-throate creditor: and presentlie yeelded, made a low legg, tooke his leaue of his compa­ny as hansomely as he could, and reeld home with his wife, very louingly.

How Smug was taken by the watch, and set in the stockes for abusing of them, and how he kept such a coyle with whooping, and hollowing vnder a sicke wo­mans window, that the Constable was faine to set him at liberty, and glad to be so rid of him.

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

Smug halfe fusseld, or (as many tearme it) some what rugged, answered euery demaund very crosly, where vp­pon the watchmen (as men in authority will) taking it for a great presumption that he should answer them so vnhappily, grew very chollericke, and in their heate of anger, stroke him, and heau'd him, and shoued him be­tweene them, as they would haue shooke him to fitters. But as before this rigorous vsage, he coulde not well brooke their wordes, he could now well worse brooke their blowes, and therefore resolued as before, he had giuen them one crosse word for a nother (I and perhaps returned them with the vantage) séeing they were so ready to giue blowes, to giue them blow for blow.

So long as he laid about him with his hāmer, (for y ^t was his Morglay) that scarce two of halfe a dozen that began with him, would stay to make an end with him. By and by came the Constable with the bloody runna­waies, to beare Smug to the stockes (which stood vnder the Constables window) w ^t much adoe, they dragd him to them, & with as much adoe got in his legg. When they had thus set him fast, they left him, & euery man returnd to his place againe. Being thus left alone, he fell to sin­ging, to passe away time as merrily in y ^e stocks, for once [Page] as he had done in the Ale-house many a time & oft: He was as well furnished with odde peeces of ba [...]dy ballets and dr [...]nken catches as a man of his profession might be; with so roundly trould out as he sate, that the Consta­bles wife was faine to send down her maid, to desire him to sit quietly and hould his tongue: How, hold my tongue (said Smug) no though maister Constable haue a tricke, to force me to hould my leggs still, he wants a trick to make me hould my tongue still.

But I prethée wench, tell me from whence or from whom comest thou, to bid me hould my tongue? marry (sayd the maide) I dwell heere, you sit vnder the cham­ber window, where my mistris who (sent me) lyes ve­ry ss [...]ke: how sicke? (quoth Smug) I prethee tell me lasse who is thy mistris? marry quoth. she the Con­stables wife, (how sayd Smug) the Cons [...]ables wi [...]e? what his wife that set me heere? I, euen his wife, (qd. the maid) therefore I prethée good fellow be quiet: O I will I will (said Smug) go tell thy mistris I will not sing one sone more to disturbe her: I prethée do not good fellow (qd. the maid) and so went vp againe to her mistris, she was scarce in the chamber with her mistris, deliuering his answer, but hee was as loud and farre louder then he was before, though not in the same man­ner, because of his promise: for he had turnd from baw­ling, like a ballet singer, to shouting, whooping, and hollowing, like a forrester. Such a noise he made as hee sate, with hollowing and whoping, (as if he had bene a hunting) that maister Constables sicke wife, could by no meanes, take a minutes rest by him.

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

Nay yfaith (qd. Smug) your husband set me heere, I thanke him, and doe you thanke him if I be a trouble to you, for setting me so neare you: blame not me for (y­faith) [Page] I must be doing some what to make my selfe mer­ry: when he had thus tould her his minde, he fell to who­ping and hollowing againe.

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

When maister Constable sawe, that neither faire meanes nor foule, could make him hould his tongue, and that by t [...]e [...]oise he made, his wife grew worse & worse, he commanded his beadle, (or some other vnder Officer) to let him out, and dersied him, very kindly, to goe quietly home to his dwelling.

SMug in his time had plaid many mad pranks by ma­ny, and one day it was his chaunce to light into the company of thrée or foure mad consorts, that plaied the knaue as well with him, as euer he had plaid the knaue with any.

When they had spent a fore-noone in quaffing toge­ther, and fild him with liquor: (which he was very easily intreated to take) and so full fild him, that he was to heauy to stand or goe, they led him out of the Ale-house into the Church-porch: and there laid him all along on his backe vpon a bench.

Under his head, (instead of a Cushion or a Pillowe) they put a Cricket, or a little Ioynt stoole, (such as children vse to sit on in the chimney corner) and vnder his f [...]ete, a great rough hewed free stone.

Yet as hard as they laid him, he slept as soundly, as if he had bene laid downe vpon a bed of downe: and laye [Page] with such a grace, as few smithes (I can tell you) can ly: for he had vpon his head, his red cap, his cap of mainte­nance, bottoned vp before, with a faire feather of a pea­cocks taile in it, bound about with a carnatiō silke ribben his leather apron tur [...]d roun together, and wound about his middle, his hammer hanging (hanger like) by his side, and both his hands in his pockets.

Thus lay Smug at length, like the Image of Duke Humphry, ouer his long agoe consumed carkas, or his dust earth and ashes.

Had honest Smug (thus lying) bene grated about with some pittifull Epitaph, or a deaths head, and Memento­morie, and his sléepe lasted as long as the sléepe of one of the seauen sléepers, I am perswaded he would haue had more spectators then the richest monument that stands either in Saint Paules-Church or Westminster.

But to the matter when (as he lay thus) the mad crew [...] that laid him so, saw hee was as deepe in sleepe as drinke, they began to worke their wils vpon him in this manner.

They got a good handfull of small coales, which they beate to powder, and hauing beate them to pow­der, put them into a dish of faire water: When they had well mingled (like right daubing painters) their small-coale powder, blacking and water together, and made a perfect coale-blacke, without either size or any such like settling stuffe, they laide it on his face which was reasonable blacke before, not leauing so much white or red to be seene as a small pinnes head will couer.

When they had thus be blackes and besmouched him, with his Deuills looke, they left him (snorting on the Porch-bench) till he should either wake of himselfe, or be [...]aked by the Sexton, or some other kinde of bald­ [...]ted Officer.

There he slept soundly three or foure houres with­out [Page] moouing: Till at last with a remoone, that remo­ued him from the bench to the ground, he waked, and after long stretching, reaching, and yawing, got vp vpon his feete.

But alas, when with much adoe he was got [...]p, hee had as much adoe to stand, yet out of the Church-porch he made a shift to stagger, and vp into the street. When he was there (reeling homewa [...]ds to his own-house) the boyes at play in the street, spied him at y ^e first sight halfe afraid of his blacke face, they ran apace away from him, yet at last when a great company of thē wer [...] gathered together, they turned to him againe, and followed him close, shouting & crying after him, Deuill, deuill, deuill.

When Smug as druncke as he was, heard them call him Deuill, deuill, deuil, he maruailed much in his mind wherefore they called him so (for alas he knew not) had they called him drunckard, It would neuer haue green'd him, for that he knew to be his ordinary title. Still fol­lowed the boyes at his heele, crying (as they begun) Deuill, deuill, deuill, throwing old shooes, bones, and pibble stones after him.

So long they followed him, that they made him (whole drunke) halfe mad, yet all he could do he could not mend it: the boyes loued him so well, they would not leaue him till they saw him at his doore.

His wife (busie within) hearing the noise and shoute the boyes made, looked out, and spyed her owne sweete husband in that sweete taking presently shee got him in a doores, and ther began (very prittily) to make vse of her tongue to him. After many brabling wordes be­tweene them, she shewed him a glasse, in which he saw the shaddow of his face in that most pittifull case. Then Smug began to sweare (not like a Smith I can tell you) gogs no [...]nes, foote and nayles thou most abhominable whore, dos [...] thou shew me the Deuill to fright me from that little store of wit which I haue? An thy Deuil were [Page] ten deuils, I am not affraid of him, and that thou shalt quickly sée: with that he tooke his hammer from his side (still seeing his owne swéet shaddow in the glasse, which he tooke to be the Deuill) strooke at it, and with one blow clattered the glasse all in pieces.

Now you whore (sayd hee) where is your deuill now? I thinke I haue mauld him yfaith: bring your Deuills to me dost thou? y ^u dost whore thou? Alasse sweet Smug (quoth she) seing him so very much mooued, be patient I préethe swéet chucke, & shewing him the crackt frame▪ looke heere héere is no Deuill, therefore I préethe swéet Oliuer be quiet.

Nay (quoth Sm [...]g) ile ticle your Deuills, yfaith, and your Deuils come to molest me within mine owne house vpon mine owne ground, ile deuill them.

Come good sweet heart (qd. she) now thou hast b [...]a­ten the Deuill away let vs goe to bed. After a quarter of an houres fretting, with very good words she got him to bed. In the morning when shée knew his sléepe had made him [...]ober, she shewed him his blacke face againe in a­nother glasse, which when he saw, and knew well what he saw, he blusht, but the best was it could not be séene till his visard was taken off with faire water and soape, then he confest himselfe faultie, promised amends, and went very close to his labour.

How cunningly Smug scaped the Keeper and others that pursued him, and made them run vp and downe from place to place to seeke him in vaine.

SMug & his mad crew of Uenison-eaters, one night be­ing at their busines, were suddainely set vpō by their old enemy, the K [...]eper and two or thrée more, that after they had taken great paines to get their prey, & bound it vp hansomely, ready to beare it away, they were forst to fix & leaue it behind thē for feare of a further mischiefe. [Page] The Miller he ran one way, and nimble Sir Iohn in his buckram cassock another way, and Smug another way, as fast as if they had beene traind vp to running all their life time. They had not time to take their leaues one of another, or appoynt a place of meeting.

As these Deere-stealers tooke seuerall waies to run, so the kéeper & his consorts, seuered themselues to pursue them, one ran after the Miller, another after sir Iohn, & two or thrée after Smug, for he was the onely man they looked for, though all of them were knowne to the kéeper well enough. The Miller he ran not far ere he was staid with a good pat on the pate: sir Iohns followers followed so close, that he was driuen to leape for his liberty ouer a ditch ouer he should haue leapt, but indeed a short leape laid him all along in the ditch, and so he was staid and taken vp with neuer a dry thred on him: Smug he ran di­rectly homewards, followed at the héeles by the kéeper & another, yet they could not ouer-take him.

When he was got to Edmonton with running to and fro, vp one lane and downe another, he got out of y ^e sight of his pursuers, but it was so late he could no get into any house to hide him, saue his owne, & into that he durst not goe, fearing they would goe thither to séeke him.

A pretty while he stood studdying which way to shift for himselfe, resoluing one while to do this thing, another while that, another while another. At last standing thus in a browne studdy, turning his eyes first one way, then another way, one while vp, another while downe, he spi­ed y ^e signe of the white horse (not painted vpon a boord, as they vse to be héere in the Citty) but fashioned out of timber, & set gallantly ouer the signe post. Masse (qd. he) I care not greatly if I get vp & bestrid this white horse▪ & make another S. George héere in Edmonton, Ile do it yfaith, it may be I may sit safer so then any way else, if I do, I do, if I do not I know y ^e worst on't, tis but wea­ring two stocks vpon one leg, & I am as well able to in­dure it now as ere I was. Up to the white horse he got, & back'd him brauely w ^t his arm stretch'd out, his hamer [Page] hand instead of a sword, and the lippet of his red cap tied vnder his chin, which stood for his helmet most featly.

While he sat thus gallantly strutting vpon his woo­den horse (yet no hobby horse) the kéeper y ^t followed him so close to haue gotten him into his kéeping (with the to­ther that was with him) went peaking & preying in euery corner of the stréet to find him, twice or thrice backward & forward) they went vnder him, & yet could not sée him, but he saw them well enough.

When they had lost an houres labor or there abouts, in séeking after him without doores, they resolued ano­ther while to séeke him within, come said y ^e kéeper to the other let vs go search the Innes, & first this, this white horse is his dayly haunt, and therefore it may be we shall finde him héere this night, com let vs in.

As y ^e kéeper was going into the white horse (vndr Smug) his fellow looking vp, bad him stay, stay (quoth the kée­per) wherfore shold I stay? why looke you (said the other) this is not the white horse as you take it to be, this is the George, masse (qd. the kéeper) tis the George indéed, come, lets ouer to the white horse. When they had crost the way (as they thought to the white horse) they found y ^• George againe▪ Zoundes (qd. the kéeper Iacke, this is the George too. What haue we two Georges in Edmon­ton. Foot man where are we? if this be Edmonton, héere was but one George yesterday, & the white horse ouer against it, now héere are two Georges one against ano­ther: this is strange, tis very strange indéed (qd. the other) bones man, are we not at Hodsdon, for thou knowest the two georges are in Hod [...]dō, masse thou saiest true Iack, & by these signes this should be Hodsdon. Come, come, (qd. the other) we mistook our way in the darke, this is Hodsdon, come lets vp to Edmonto [...]. Content (qd. the kéeper) and together they ran as fast as they could to Hodsdon to finde Edmonton.

When Smug who heard all their talke, & sat laughing ready towray himselfe w ^t laghter saw them trudging towards Hodsdon, he gat down from his white horse, & [Page] went to bed, leauing them in their wilde Goose-chase to séeke him. When they were come to Hodson, there they saw the two Georges too (for there y ^e signes stood indéed) thē they chaf'd, swore & stampt like mad men, cursd poore Smug & his company, and vowed to be the death of him, if ere they could take him hansomely, their they tooke vp their lodging for that night, and the next mor [...]ing went home to their businesse.

How Smugs wife locked him in a doores, when he would haue gone abroad a swaggering & what shift hee made to get out and amongst them.

SMug one day very early, prepared himselfe to goe a­broad (according to promise y ^e day before) a drinking, & to go hansomly to it, he tricked himselfe vp in his holly day suit, put on a cleane band & his red cap, y ^t he might go through stitch with his busines, without crosse or con­trolement, but (alas éene as he was ready to go downe the staires, his wife perceiuing his intent, presently (to crosse him) stept out of the chamber before him, puld the doore after her, & lockt him in, now (said she) & you be hot with anger, walke vp and downe and coole your selfe, if your walke tire you, lie downe and rest you, for you shall rest vpon no ale-bench this day.

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

From the time he rose, till almost dinner time, he walked vp and downe in his chamber, cha [...]ing, fretting and mumbling like poore Tom of Bedlam in his [...]arne or bowsing Inne.

At last to crosse his wife, (as well as she had crost him, he tooke an empty Can that stood by vpon a little table, tyed it to the end of a long string, and put it out at his [Page] chamber window, where it hung dangling like the poore mens boxe at Ludgate, & he himselfe like y ^• bawling box man, stood péeping through his Lattice, crying for the Lords sake, for y ^e Lords sake good people pitty a poore pri­soner, making his can daunce at the end of his whip-cord, with drawing it vp & down as nimbly as one of the little thred P [...]ppits in the lamentable motion of Diues & La­zarus. Wel there he stood in this ma [...]er bawling & yaw­ling, till he had drawn as great a company of people toge­ther as the babling of a cheating mountebancke or y ^e foule furd throat of an itchy ballad singer in a faire or market time. To conclude when his wife saw such a company of people, men, women & children gathered about him, she (poore wretch) ashamed to heare him, & vext at those y ^• stood gaping about him, in a chaf [...]ng heate as she lockt him in, let him out, & was glad to be so rid of him.

How Smug was reuenged on his wife for locking him in a doores.

THe day succéeding this vnkind crosse, Smug rose a­gai [...]e very early, and put on working day apparell, with his old shéepes russet button cap, and went to worke as hard as if he had wrought for a wager, he laboured at the Forge, (but twas to forge a péece of knauery) till his sweaty face réeked againe.

All y ^e day long wrought he thus hard without any stop, stay, or hinderance, nay, which is more to be wondred at, he dranke not aboue thrice all day, & that was but as he vsed to cal it, smal comfort▪ commonly called smal béere.

His wife to sée him worke so close (as she very well might) meruailed, & gaue him as kind words as he could wish for, & swar by the faith of her body, she was glad to sée such a suddē alteration. He still plying his work, gaue her good words for her good words very kindely. When his labor had brought on y ^e euening (which brings an end to labour) he very kindly requested his wife to walke w ^t him to nip themselues alittle in y ^e euening, for it was a very fine frosty moon-light euening, she very kindly tooke his kinde request, and went with him.

[Page]Uery louing walked they together, ar [...]e in arme, out at townes end, one while this way, and another while y ^•, euē as it [...]leased him (her most venterous leader) to lead her. They walked thus louingly vp & downe together so long, that there was not candle burning, nor one eye o­pen in all y ^• Uillage, then home apace he hyed him, when he was come to the doore, ready to enter, he sent his wife on a sléeueles errand, to y ^e turning stile to his honest neighbour Noddamus, while she poore womā was about his bidding, mistrusting no knauery to be done against her, he presently turnd the key on the out side to let him­selfe in, & on y ^• inside to locke her out. When she was re­turned from y ^e place aforenamed, & found the doore lockt, & the key sticking in y ^e in [...]ide, she knockt▪ & with her knoc­king cald, but honest Smug lay snug, & would neither rise to let her in, nor make her any answer. Then she knew not what to doe, but (as women do wanting their wills) sat & cryed to ease her stomacke; his resolution was set to make her sit all that night, to knock her héeles & blow her nailes at the doore, like a poore back-bitten-stal-crée­per, neuer did she chatter better with anger, then she did at that time with the coldnesse of the weather that made her téeth go faster then her tongue.

When she saw y ^• neithar reasonable knocking, nor vn­reasonable calling could raise him, she tooke vp a great flint stone & beate against the doore as though she wo [...]ld haue beat it downe. Then Smug started vp to y ^e w [...]ndow in his shirt, & very strangely asked who it was kept such a bounsing at the doore? marry good man drunkard (qd. she) it is I that knock, wherefore hast thou lockt me out? Nay first (qd. Smug answer me, wherefore didst thou locke me in? twas so lately don, I am sure thou hast not forgot it, or if thou hast thou seest I haue [...]ot.

So, talke no longer, for I swear by my red cap, & by Bacchus the God of good liquor, I meane to kéep thée out all night, as thou kepst me in all day, and so swéet Agnis [Page] till betwéene seuen and eight in the morning farewell.

To bed went he againe & left her to shift for her selfe til morning: how they agréed when they came together, I know not, but you may iudge she scarce tooke it pa­tiently.

How Smug quarreld with his fellowes, and was ready to fight about the singing of a Catch: and how till they turnd it to his mind, he would not be quieted.

SMug one day being very merry, with his honest swil­ling associates frō drinking, fell to singing, & amongst all the od Alehouse catches they had vp, this was one Ile ty my Mare in thy ground: this Ile ty my Mare in thy ground was tost so long to and fro, betwéene Smug the Miller & the merry Parson, y ^e Smug had forgot he was singing a Catch, and began to quarrel with the Parson, thinking verily, he had ment, (as he said in his song) to ty his Mare in his ground: Will you ty your Mare in my ground? (said Smug) the Parson he sung still, Ile ty my Mare in thy ground: In my ground? (said Smug:) still went y ^e Parson forward with his Catch, Ile ty my Mare in thy ground, &c. Then Smug began to swagger indéed and swore, if he tyed his Mare in his ground, he woulde make his cap and scull cleaue together: besides he would giue his Mare such a drench y ^t after y ^t drinke, she should neuer eate more. The Parson séeing Smugs rage increa­sing, with very good words, intreated him to be patient, & cast away choller for as I am an honest sir Iohn, and a boone companion meant no harme in the world: I did but sing the Catche, as the Catch was. But all these kinde words & intreaties, could not win Smug to patience, till M. Parson turnd his song, & himselfe in singing frō him to the Miller: Then they were as good friends as could be, and (in kindnesse) went againe to drinke together till they were all laid to sleepe together.

How Smug being drunke in bed pist vpon his wife through a Cullender instead of a Chamber pot.

LAbouring at y ^e liquor al day, many times tir'd Smug far worse then his labour at y ^e forge, as it was often [Page] séene by him: but most especially, at this time that I [...]a now to speake of: for at this time he had labord so hard (& no body blame him) for he cast not frō morning til night y ^t his legs were not able to beare him to bed: but what he could not do himselfe for himselfe, the helping hands of some kind neighbours & friends did: in bed they laid him and so left him to get that sléeping that he lost waking.

There lay he grunting & growning like a hog in a sty, turning two & fro, from one side of the bed to y ^e tother: for the liquor wrought so within him y ^t he could not sléepe as he vs'd to drinke (soundly) for y ^e life of him. Within halfe an houre after he had lien thus tumbling & tossing, as if he had lien vpon nettles, his wife went to bed to him, to rest her after her (indeed) true labor, but (poore woman) she found lesse rest there thē in her labor: for he kept such a re [...]ching and stretching himselfe, such a hunching and punching with his leggs & elbowes, that she might haue lien better at ease betwéene too mad men, then by him in that taking. As he lay thus laboring (laden & ouer laden) with the liquor he had taken▪ y ^e liquor lay laboring within him for vent: Which, though he could very hardly rise to giue it hansomly, yet he did his good will, and reachd out of the bed for a pispot, but instead of a pispot, he tooke a cullender, (that stood close by his bed side vpon a settle) & knéeling vp right in his bed, let his ill-digested liquor run as freely into it, and through it, vpō his (slumbring wife, as a coduite pipe at waste.

She presently (féeling her selfe warme wet) start vp, & began to brabble with him, and cry shame vpon him for dooing such a beastly déed. Why thou whore (qd. Smug wilt thou not giue me leaue to pisse? if thou crosest my humor but with two crosse words more, Ile breake the pisse-pot about the pate of thée, therefore be quiet.

But for al his threatning she wold not hold her tongue y ^• she kept walking stil, til Smugs fists walked about her eares. There was such a sore battaile in y ^e bed betwéene them as thinke neare was séene betwéene bed fellowes before, & had not a ca [...]dle a [...]d a cleane [...]aire of shéetes, been [...] quickly carried vp to part them, there would haue bin great blood-shed.