Chapter IV: Part 4

++A Prigger of Prauncers be horse stealers; for to prigge signifieth in their language to steale, _and_ a Prauncer is a horse: so beinge put together, the matter is[83] playne. These go commonly in Ierkins of leatherr, or of white frese, _and_ carry litle wands in their hands, and will walke through grounds and pastures, to search and se horses meete for their purpose. And if thei chau_n_ce to be met and asked by the owners of the grounde what they make there, they fayne strayghte that they haue loste their waye, and {43} desyre to be enstructed the beste waye to such a place. These will also repayre to gentlemens houses and aske their charitye, and wyll offer their seruice. And if you aske them what they can do, they wyll saye that they can kepe two or thre Geldinges, and waite vppon a Gentleman. These haue also their women, that walkinge from them in other places, marke where and what they sée abroade, and sheweth these Priggars therof when they meete, which is with in a wéeke or two. And loke, where they steale any thinge, they conuay _th_e same at the least thre score miles of or more.

¶ There was a Gentleman, a verye friende of myne, rydyng from London homewarde into Kente, hauinge with in thrée myles of his house busynesse, alyghted of his horse, and his man also, in a pretye [leaf 12] vyllage, where diueres houses were, and looked aboute hym where he myghte haue a conuenient person to walke his horse, because hee would speake w_i_t_h_ a Farmer that dwelt on the backe side of the sayde village, lytle aboue a quarter of a myle from the place where he lighted, and had his man to waight vpon him, as it was mete for his callinge: espying a Pryggar there standing, thinking the same to dwell there, charging this prity prigginge person to walke his horse well, and that they might not stande styll for takyng of colde, and at his returne (which he saide should not be longe) he would geue hym a peny to drinke, and so wente aboute his busines. This peltynge Priggar, proude of his praye, walkethe his horse[84] vp and downe tyll he sawe the Gentleman out of sighte, and leapes him into the saddell, and awaye he goeth a mayne. This Gentleman returninge, and findinge not his horses, sent his man to the one end of the vyllage, and he went himselfe vnto the other ende, and enquired as he went for his horses that were walked, and began some what to suspecte, because neither he nor his man could se nor find him. Then this Gentleman deligentlye enquired of thre or foure towne dwellers there whether any such person, declaring his stature,[85] age, apparell, with so many linaments of his body as he could call to remembraunce. And, “vna voce,” all sayde that no such man dwelt in their streate, neither in the parish, that they knewe of; but some did wel remember that such a one they saw there lyrkinge and {44} huggeringe two houres before the Gentleman came thether, and a straunger to them. “I had thoughte,” quoth this Gentleman, “he had here dwelled,”—and marched home manerly in his botes: farre from the place he dwelt not. I suppose at his comming home he sente suche wayes as he suspected or thought méete to searche for this Prigger, but hetherto he neuer harde any tydinges agayne of his palfreys.—I had the best geldinge stolen oute of my pasture that I had amongst others whyle this boke was first a printinge.

[Footnote 83: 1573, _was_]

[Footnote 84: _horses._ B.]

[Footnote 85: Printed _statute_]

¶ A PALLYARD. Cap. 7.

++THese Palliardes be called also Clapperdogens: these go with patched clokes, _and_ haue their Morts with them, which they cal wiues; and if he goe to one house, to aske his almes, his wife shall goe to a nother: for what they get (as bread, chéese, malte, and woll) they sell the same for redy money; for so they get more and if they went together. Although they be thus[86] deuided in the daie, yet they mete iompe at night. Yf they chaunce to come to some gentylmans house standinge [leaf 12, back] a lone, and be demaunded whether they be man and wyfe, _and_ if he perceaue that any doubteth thereof, he sheweth them a Testimonial with the ministers name, and others of the same parishe (naminge a parishe in some shere fare distant from the place where he sheweth the same). This writing he carieth to salue that sore. Ther be many Irishe men that goe about with cou_n_terfeate licenses; and if they perceiue you wil straytly examen them, they will immediatly saye they can speake no Englishe.

¶ Farther, vnderstand for trouth that the worst and wickedst of all this beastly generation are scarse comparable to these prating Pallyardes. All for _th_e most parte of these wil either lay to their legs an herb called Sperewort, eyther Arsnicke, which is called Ratesbane. The nature of this Spereworte wyll rayse a great blister in a night vpon the soundest part of his body; and if the same be taken away, it wyl dry vp againe and 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 pitied. The most of these that walke about be Walchmen.

[Footnote 86: Printed _this_]

{45}

¶ A FRATER. Cap. 8.

++SOme of these Fraters will cary blacke boxes at their gyrdel, wher in they haue a briefe of the Queenes maiesties letters patentes, geuen to suche[87] poore spitlehouse for the reliefe of _th_e poore there, whiche briefe is a coppie of the letters patentes, _and_ vtterly fained, if it be in paper or in[88] parchment without the great seale. Also, if the same brief be in printe,[89] it is also of auctoritie. For the Printers wil sée _and_ wel vndersta_n_d, before it come in presse, that the same is lawfull. Also, I am credibly informed that the chiefe Proctors of manye of these houses, that seldome trauel abroad the_m_ selues, but haue their factors to gather for the_m_, which looke very slenderly to the impotent and miserable creatures committed to their charge, _and_ die for want of cherishing; wheras they _and_ their wiues are wel cra_m_med _and_ clothed, _and_ will haue of the best. And the founders of euery such house, or the chiefe of the parishe wher they be, woulde better sée vnto these Proctors, that they might do their duty, they should be wel spoken of here, and in the world to come abou_n_dantly therefore rewarded. I had of late an honest man, and of good wealthe, repayred to my house to common wyth me aboute certeyne affaires. I inuited the same to dinner, and dinner beinge done, I demaunded of hym some newes of these[90] parties were hee dwelte. “Thankes be to God, syr,” (saith he); “all is well _and_ good now.” “Now!” (quoth I) “this same ‘nowe’ [leaf 13] declareth _tha_t some things of late hath not bene wel.” “Yes, syr,” (q_uoth_ he) “the[91] matter is not great. I had thought I should haue bene wel beaten within this seuenth night.” “How so?” (quoth I). “Mary, syr,” sayd he, “I am Counstable for fault of a better, and was commaunded by the Iusticer to watch. The watch being set, I toke an honest man, one of my neighbors, with me, 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 nere, stode close vnder the wall, and this was at one of the clocke after midnight.” {46} Where he harde swearinge, pratinge, and wagers laying, and the pot apase walkinge, and xl. pence gaged vpon a matche of wrastling, pitching of the barre, and casting of the sledge. And out they goe, in a fustian fume, into the backe syde, where was a great Axiltrye,[92] and there fell to pitching of the barre, being thre to thre. The Moone dyd shine bright, the Counstable with his neighboure myght see and beholde all that was done. And howe the wyfe of the house was rostinge of a Pyg, whyle her gestes were in their matche. At the laste they coulde not agree vpon a caste, and fell at wordes, and from wordes to blowes. The Counstable with his[93] fellowe runnes vnto them, to parte them, and in the partinge lyckes a drye blowe or two. Then the noyse increased; the Counstable woulde haue had them to[94] the stockes. The wyfe of the house runnes out with her goodman to intreat the Counstable for her gestes, and leaues the Pyg at the fyre alone. In commeth two or thrée of the next neighboures, beinge waked wyth this noise, and into the house they come, and fynde none therein, but the Pygge well rosted, and carieth the same awaye wyth them, spyte and all, with suche breade and drinke also as stoode vpon the table. When the goodman and the goodwyfe of the house hadde intreated and pacified the Counstable, shewinge vnto him that they were Proctors and Factores all of Spyttell houses, and that they taryed there but to breake theyr fast, and woulde ryde awaye immediatelye after, for they had farre to goe, and therefore mente to ryde so earlye. And comminge into their house agayne, fyndinge the Pygge wyth bread and drincke all gonne, made a greate exclamation, for they knewe not who had the same.

¶ The Counstable returning and hearinge the lamentable wordes of the good wyfe, howe she had lost both meate and drinke, and sawe it was so in deede, hée laughed in his sleue, and commaunded her to dresse no more at vnlawfull houres for any gestes. For hée thought it better bestowed vppon those smell feastes his poore {47} neighboures then vppon suche sturdye Lubbares. The nexte mornynge betymes the [leaf 13, back] spitte and pottes were sette at the Spittle house doore for the owner. Thus were these Factours begyled of theyr breakefast, and one of them hadde well beaten an other; “And, by my trouth,” (quoth thys Counstable) “I was gladde when I was well ryd of them.” “Why,” quoth I, “coulde the[y] caste the barre and sledge well?” “I wyll tell you, syr,” (quoth hée) “you knowe there hath bene manye games this Sommer. I thinke verely, that if some of these Lubbars had bene there, and practysed amongest others, I beleue they woulde haue carryed awaye the beste games. For they were so stronge and sturdye, that I was not able to stande in their handes.” “Well” (quoth I) “at these games you speake of, both legges and armes bée tryed.” “Yea,” quoth this offycer, “they bée wycked men. I haue séene some of them sithens wyth cloutes bounde aboute theyr legges, and haltynge wyth their staffe in their handes. Wherefore some of theym, by GOD, bée nought all.”

[Footnote 87: B. inserts _a_]

[Footnote 88: B. omits _in_]

[Footnote 89: Probably the reason why “in print” came to be
considered synonymous with “correct.” See 2 Gent. of Verona, act ii.
sc. 1, 175.]

[Footnote 90: _those._ B.]

[Footnote 91: B. omits _the_]

[Footnote 92:

Castyng_e_ of axtre & eke of ston,
Sofere hem þere to vse non;
Bal, and barres, and suche play,
Out of chycheȝorde put a-way.—
Myrc, p. 11, l. 334–7 (E. E. T. Soc. 1868)]

[Footnote 93: Printed _hts_]

[Footnote 94: _to to._ B.]

¶ A ABRAHAM MAN. Cap. 9.

++THese Abrahom men be those that fayne themselues to haue beene mad, and haue bene kept eyther in Bethelem or in some other pryson a good tyme, _and_ not one amongst twenty that euer came in pryson for any such cause: yet wyll they saye howe pitiously and most extreamely they haue bene beaten, and dealt with all. Some of these be merye and verye pleasant, they wyll daunce and sing; some others be as colde and reasonable to talke wyth all. These begge money; eyther when they come at Farmours howses they wyll demaunde Baken, eyther chéese, or wooll, or any thinge that is worthe money. And if they espye small company within, they wyll with fierce countenau_n_ce demau_n_d some what. Where for feare the maydes wyll geue theym largely to be ryd of theym.

++{ ¶ If they maye conuenyently come by any cheate, they wyl picke and steale, as the v[p]right man or Roge, poultrey or } lynnen. And all wemen that wander bée at their commaundemente. Of all that euer I saw of this kynde, one naminge him selfe Stradlynge is the craftiest and moste dyssemblyngest Knaue. {48} Hée is able wyth hys tounge and vsage to deceaue and abuse the wysest man that is. And surely for the proporcion of his body, with euery member there vnto appertayninge, it cannot be a mended. But as the prouerbe is “God hath done his part.” Thys Stradlyng sayth he was the Lord Sturtons man; and when he was executed, for very pensiuenes of mynde, [leaf 14] he fell out of his wytte, and so continued a yeare after and more; and that with the very gréefe and feare, he was taken wyth a marueilous palsey, that both head and handes wyll shake when he talketh, with anye and that a pase or fast, where by he is much pytied, and getteth greately. And if I had not demaunded of others, bothe men and women, that commonly walketh as he doth, and knowen by them his déepe dissimylation, I neuer hadde vnderstand the same. And thus I end wyth these kynde of vacabondes.

¶ A FRESHE WATER MARINER OR WHIPIACKE. Cap. 10.

++THese Freshwater Mariners, their shipes were drowned in the playne of Salisbery. These kynde of Caterpillers counterfet great losses on the sea; these bée some Western men, and most bée Irishe men. These wyll runne about the countrey wyth a counterfet lycence, fayninge either shypwracke, or spoyled by Pyrates, neare the coaste of Cornwall or Deuonshyre, and set a lande at some hauen towne there, hauynge a large and formall wrytinge, as is aboue sayd, with the names and seales of suche men of worshyppe, at the leaste foure or fiue, as dwelleth neare or next to the place where they fayne their landinge. And neare to those shieres wyll they not begge, vntyll they come into Wylshyre, Hamshyre, Barkeshyre, Oxfordshyre, Harfordshyre, Middelsex, and so[95] to London, and downe by the ryuer to séeke for their shyppe and goods that they neuer hade: then passe they through Surrey, Sossex, by the sea costes, and so into Kent, demaunding almes to bring them home to their country.

¶ Some tyme they counterfet the seale of the Admiraltie. I haue diuers tymes taken a waye from them their lycences, of both sortes, wyth suche money as they haue gathered, and haue confiscated the same to the pouerty nigh adioyninge to me. And they wyll not {49} beelonge with out another. For at anye good towne they wyll renewe the same. Once wyth muche threatninge and faire promises, I required to knowe of one companye who made their lycence. And they sweare that they bought the same at Portsmouth, of a Mariner there, and it cost them[96] two shillinges; with such warrantes to be so good and efectuall, that if any of the best men of lawe, or learned, aboute London, should peruse the same, they weare able to fynde no faute there with, but would assuredly allow the same.

[Footnote 95: Omitted in 1573.]

[Footnote 96: _him_ (_sic_). B.]

{50}

[Headnote: HARMON. N. BLUNT, N. GENYNGES.]

[Sidenote: [leaf 14, back][97]]

These two pyctures, lyuely set out,
One bodye and soule, god send him more grace.
This mounstrous desembelar, a Cranke all about.
Vncomly couetinge, of eche to imbrace,
Money or wares, as he made his race.
And sometyme a marynar, and a saruinge man,
Or els an artificer, as he would fayne than.
Such shyftes he vsed, beinge well tryed,
A bandoninge labour, tyll he was espyed.
Conding punishment, for his dissimulation,
He sewerly receaued with much declination[98]

[Footnote 97: This page is not in Bodley ed.]

[Footnote 98: 1573 reads _exclamation_]

{51}

[Sidenote: [leaf 15]]

¶ A COUNTERFET CRANKE. Cap. 11.

++THese that do counterfet the Cranke be yong knaues and yonge harlots, that depely dissemble the falling sicknes. For the Cranke in their language is the falling euyll. I haue séene some of these with fayre writinges testimoniall, with the names and seales of some men of worshyp in Shropshyre, and in other Shieres farre of, that I haue well knowne, and haue taken the same from them. Many of these do go without writinges, and wyll go halfe naked, and looke most pitiously. And if any clothes be geuen them, the[y][99] immediatly sell the same, for weare it they wyll not, because they would bée the more pitied, and weare fylthy clothes on their heades, and neuer go without a péece of whyte sope about them, which, if they sée cause or present gains, they wyll priuely conuey the same into their mouth, and so worke the same there, that they wyll fome as it were a Boore, _and_ maruelously for a tyme torment them selues; and thus deceiue they the common people, and gayne much. These haue commonly their harlots as the other.

Apon Alhollenday in the morning last Anno domini. 1566, or my[100] booke was halfe printed, I meane the first impression, there came earely in the morninge a Counterfet Cranke vnder my lodgynge at the whyte Fryares, wythin the cloyster, in a lyttle yard or coorte, where aboutes laye two or thre great Ladyes, beyng without the lyberties of London, where by he hoped for the greatter gayne; this Cranke there lamentably lamentinge and pitefully crying to be releued, declared to dyuers their hys paynfull and miserable dysease. I being rysen and not halfe ready, harde his dolfull wordes and rufull mornings, hering him name the falling sicknes, thought assuredlye to my selfe that hée was a depe desemblar; so, comminge out at a sodayne, and beholdinge his vgly and yrksome attyre, hys lothsome and horyble countinance, it made me in a meruelous parplexite what to thinke of hym, whether it were fayned or trouth,—for after this manner went he: he was naked from the wast vpward, sauyng he had a old Ierken[101] of leather patched, and that was lose[102] about hym, that all his bodye laye out bare; a filthy foule cloth he ware on his head, {52} being cut for the purpose, hauing a narowe place to put out his face, with a bauer made to trusse vp his beard, and a stryng that tyed the same downe close aboute his necke; with an olde felt hat which he styll caried in his hande to receaue the charytye and deuotion of the people, for that woulde he hold out from hym; hauyng hys face, from the eyes downe ward, all smerd with freshe bloud, [leaf 15, back] as thoughe he had new falen, and byn tormented wyth his paynefull panges,—his Ierken beinge all be rayde with durte and myre, and hys hatte and hosen also, as thoughe hée hadde wallowed in the myre: sewerly the sighte was monstrous and terreble. I called hym vnto me, and demaunded of hym what he ayled. “A, good maister,” quoth he, “I haue the greuous and paynefull dyseas called the falynge syckenes.” “Why,” quoth I, “howe commeth thy Ierken, hose, and hat so be rayd with durte and myre, and thy skyn also?” “A, good master, I fell downe on the backesyde here in the fowle lane harde by the watersyde; and there I laye all most all night, and haue bled all most all the bloude owte in my bodye.” It raynde that morninge very fast; and whyle I was thus talkinge with hym, a honest poore woman that dwelt thereby brought hym a fayre lynnen cloth, and byd hym wype his face therewyth; and there beinge a tobbe standing full of rayne water, offered to geue hym some in a dishe that he might make hym selfe cleane: hée refuseth[103] the same. “Why dost thou so?” quoth I. “A, syr,” sayth he, “yf I shoulde washe my selfe, I shoulde fall to bléedinge a freshe againe, and then I should not stop my selfe:” these wordes made me the more to suspecte hym.

Then I asked of hym where he was borne, what is name was, how longe he had this dysease, and what tyme he had ben here about London, and in what place. “Syr,” saythe he, “I was borne at Leycestar, my name is Nycholas Genings,[104] and I haue had this falling sycknes viij. yeares, and I can get no remedy for the same; for I haue it by kinde, my father had it and my friendes before me; and I haue byne these two yeares here about London, and a yeare and a halfe in bethelem.” “Why, wast thou out of thy wyttes?” quoth I. “Ye, syr, that I was.”

[Footnote 99: _they._ B.]

[Footnote 100: _my my._ B.]

[Footnote 101: _gyrken_ (_et seqq._). B.]

[Footnote 102: _loose._ B.]

[Footnote 103: _refused._ B.]

[Footnote 104: _Gennins._ B.]

{53}

“What is the Kepars name of the house?” “Hys name is,” quoth hée, “Iohn Smith.” “Then,” quoth I, “hée must vnderstande of thy dysease; yf thou hadest the same for the tyme thou wast there, he knoweth it well.” “Ye, not onely he, but all the house bée syde,” quoth this Cranke; “for I came thens but within this fortnight.” I had stande so longe reasoning the matter wyth him that I was a cold, and went into my chamber and made me ready, and commaunded my seruant to repayre to bethelem, and bringe me true worde from the keper there whether anye suche man hath byn with him as a prisoner hauinge the dysease aforesayd, and gaue hym a note of his name and the kepars also: my seruant, retorninge to my lodginge, dyd assure me that neither was there euer anye such man there, nether yet anye keper of any suche name; but hée that was there keper, he sent me hys name in writing, afferming that hee letteth no man depart from hym vnlesse he be fet a waye by [leaf 16] hys fréendes, and that none that came from hym beggeth aboute the Citye. Then I sent for the Printar of this booke, and shewed hym of this dyssembling Cranke, and how I had sent to Bethelem to vnderstand the trouth[105], and what aunsweare I receaued againe, requiringe hym that I might haue some seruant of his to watche him faithfully that daye, that I might vnderstand trustely to what place he woulde repaire at night vnto, and thether I promised to goe my selfe to sée their order, and that I woulde haue hym to associate me thether: hée gladly graunted to my request, and sent two boyes, that both diligently and vygelantly accomplisht the charge geuen them, and found the same Cranke aboute the Temple, where about the most parte of the daye hée begged, vnlesse it weare about xii. of the clocke he wente on the backesyde of Clementes Ine without Temple barre: there is a lane that goeth into the Feldes; there hee renewed his face againe wyth freshe bloud, which he caried about hym in a bladder, and dawbed on freshe dyrte vpon his Ierken, hat, and hoson.

¶ And so came backe agayne vnto the Temple, and sometyme to the Watersyde, and begged of all that passed bye: the boyes behelde howe some gaue grotes, some syxe pens, some gaue more; {54} for hée looked so ougleie and yrksomlye, that euerye one pytied his miserable case that beehelde hym. To bee shorte, there he passed all the daye tyll night approched; and when it began to bée some what dark, he went to the water syde and toke a Skoller,[106] and was sette ouer the Water into Saincte Georges feldes, contrarye to my expectatian; for I had thought he woulde haue gonne into Holborne or to Saynt Gylles in the felde; but these boyes, with Argues and Lynces eyes, set sewre watche vppon him, and the one tooke a bote and followed him, and the other went backe to tell his maister.

[Footnote 105: _trough._ B.]

[Footnote 106: 1573 reads _skolloer_]

The boye that so folowed hym by Water, had no money to pay for his Bote hyre, but layde his Penner and his Ynkhorne to gage for a penny; and by that tyme the boye was sette ouer, his Maister, wyth all celeryte, hadde taken a Bote and followed hym apase: now hadde they styll a syght of the Cranke, wych crossed ouer the felddes towardes Newyngton, and thether he went, and by that tyme they came thether it was very darke: the Prynter hadde there no acquaintance, nether any kynde of weapon about hym, nether knewe he[107] how farre the Cranke woulde goe, becawse hee then suspected that they dogged hym of purposse; he there stayed hym, and called for the Counstable, whyche came forthe dylygentelye to inquyre what the matter was: thys zelous Pryntar charged thys offycer [leaf 16, back] wyth hym as a malefactor and a dessemblinge vagabonde—the Counstable woulde haue layde him all night in the Cage that stode in the streate. “Naye,” saythe this pitifull Prynter, “I praye you haue him into your house; for this is lyke to be a cold nyght, and he is naked: you kepe a vytellinge house; let him be well cherished this night, for he is well hable to paye for the same. I knowe well his gaynes hath byn great to day, and your house is a sufficient pryson for the tyme, and we wil there serche hym.” The Counstable agreed there vnto: they had him in, and caused him to washe him selfe: that donne, they demaunded what money he had about hym. Sayth this Cranke, “So God helpe me, I haue but xii. pence,” and plucked oute the same of a lytle pursse. “Why, haue you no more?” quoth they. “No,” sayth this Cranke, “as God shall saue my soule at the day of iudgement.” “We must se more,” quoth they,{55} and began to stryp hym. Then he plucked out a nother purse, wherin was xi. pens. “Toushe,” sayth[108] thys Prynter, “I must see more.” Saythe this Cranke, “I pray God I bée dampned both body[109] and soule yf I haue anye more.” “No,” sayth thys Prynter, “thou false knaue, here is my boye that dyd watche thée all this daye, and sawe when such men gaue the péeses of sixe pens, grotes, and other money; and yet thou hast shewed vs none but small money.” When thys Cranke hard this, and the boye vowinge it to his face, he relented, and plucked out another pursse, where in was eyght shyllings and od money; so had they in the hole _tha_t he had begged that day xiij. shillings iii. [110]§pens halfepeny§. Then they strypt him starke naked, and as many as sawe him sayd they neuer sawe hansommer man, wyth a yellowe flexen beard[111], and fayre skynned, withoute anye spot or greffe. Then the good wyfe of the house fet her goodmans[112] olde clocke, _and_ caused the same to be cast about him, because the sight shoulde not abash her shamefast maydens, nether loth her squaymysh sight.

[Footnote 107: Omitted in 1573 edit.]

++{ Thus he set[113] downe at the Chemnes end, and called for a potte of Béere, and dranke of a quarte at a draft, and } called for another, and so the thyrde, that one had bene sufficient for any resonable man, the Drynke was so stronge.[114] I my selfe, the next morninge, tasted thereof; but let the reader iudge what and howe much he would haue dronke and he had bene out of feare. Then when they had thus wrong water out of a flint in spoyli_n_g him of his euyl gotten goods, his passi_n_g pens[115], _and_ fleting trashe, The printer with this offecer were in gealy gealowsit[116], and deuised to search a barne for some roges and vpright men, a quarter of a myle from the house, that stode a lone in the fieldes, and wente out about their busines, leauing this cranke alone with his wyfe and maydens: this crafty Cra_n_ke, espying al gon, requested _th_e good wife that [leaf 17] hee might goe out on the backesyde to make water, and to exonerate his paunche: she bad hym drawe the lache of the dore and goe out, neither thinkinge or mistrusting he {56} would haue gon awaye naked; but, to conclude, when hee was out, he cast awaye the cloke, and, as naked as euer he was borne, he ran away, [117]*that he could[118] neuer be hard of [119]†againe.* Now† the next morning betimes, I went vnto Newington, to vndersta_n_d what was done, because I had word or it was day that there my printer was; and at my comming thether, I hard the hole circumstaunce, as I aboue haue wrytten; and I, seing the matter so fall out, tooke order with the chiefe of the parish that this xiij. shyllings _and_ iij. [120]‡pens halfpeny‡ might the next daye be equally distributed, by their good discrecions, to the pouertie of the same parishe,[121] and so it was done.

[Footnote 108: _sayih_ (_sic_). B.]

[Footnote 109: printed _dody_]

[Footnote 110: §–§ _d. ob._ B.]

[Footnote 111: _bede._ B.]

[Footnote 112: _mans._ B.]

[Footnote 113: 1573 inserts _him_; _sette hym_. B.]

[Footnote 114: 1573 inserts _that_]

[Footnote 115: _pence._ B.]

[Footnote 116: The 1573 edition reads _ioly ioylitie; gelowsy_. B.]

[Footnote 117: *–* The 1573 edition finishes the sentence
thus:—“ouer the fields to his own house, as hée afterwards said.”]

[Footnote 118: _woulde._ B.]

[Footnote 119: †–† _again til now._ B.]

[Footnote 120: ‡–‡ _d. ob._ B.]

[Footnote 121: The 1573 edition continues thus:—“wherof this crafty
Cranke had part him selfe, for he had both house and wife in the
same parishe, as after you shall heare. But this lewde lewterar
could not laye his bones to labour, hauing got once the tast of
this lewd lasy lyfe, for al this fayr admonition, but deuised other
suttel sleights to maintaine his ydell liuing, and so craftely
clothed him selfe in mariners apparel, and associated him self with
an other of his companions: they hauing both mariners apparel, went
abroad to aske charity of _th_e people, fayning they hadde loste
their shippe with all their goods by casualty on the seas, wherewith
they gayned much. This crafty Cranke, fearinge to be mistrusted,
fell to another kinde of begging, as bad or worse, and apparelled
himselfe very well with a fayre black fréese cote, a new payre of
whyte hose, a fyne felt hat on his head, a shert of flaunders worke
esteemed to be worth xvi. shillings; and vpon newe yeares day came
againe into the whyt Fryers to beg: the printer, hauing occasion
to go that ways, not thinking of this Cranke, by chaunce met with
him, who asked his charitie for Gods sake. The printer, vewing him
well, did mistrust him to be the counterfet Cranke which deceuied
him vpon Alhollen daye at night, demaunded of whence he was and what
was his name, ‘Forsoth,’ saith he, ‘my name is Nicolas Genings, and
I came from Lecester to séeke worke, and I am a hat-maker by my
occupation, and all my money is spent, and if I coulde get money to
paye for my lodging this night, I would seke work to morowe amongst
the hatters.’ The printer perceiuing his depe dissimulation, putting
his hand into his purse, seeming to giue him some money, and with
fayre allusions brought him into the stréete, where he charged the
constable with him, affirminge him to be the counterfet Cranke
that ranne away vpon Alholon daye last. The constable being very
loth to medle with him, but the printer knowing him and his depe
disceit, desyred he mought be brought before the debutie of the
ward, which straight was accomplished, which whe_n_ he came before
the debuty, he demaunded of him of whence he was and what was his
name; he answered as before he did vnto _th_e printer: the debutie
asked the printer what he woulde laye vnto hys charge; he answered
and aleged him to be a vagabond and depe deceyuer of the people,
and the counterfet Crank that ran away vpon Alhallon day last from
the constable of Newington and him, and requested him earnestly
to send him to ward: the debuty thinking him to be deceiued, but
neuerthelesse laid his co_m_maundement vpon him, so that the printer
should beare his charges if he could not iustifie it; he agréed
thereunto. And so he and the constable went to cary him to the
Counter; and as they were going vnder Ludgate, this crafty Cranke
toke his héeles and ran down the hill as fast as he could dryve,
the constable and the printer after him as fast as they coulde; but
the printer of _th_e twayn being lighter of fote, ouertoke him at
fleete bridge, and with strong hand caried him to the counter, and
safely deliuered him. In _th_e morow _th_e printer sent his boy that
stripped him vpon Alhalon day at night to view him, because he would
be sure, which boy knew him very well: this Crank confessed unto
the debuty, _tha_t he had hosted the night before in Kent stréet in
Southwarke, at the sign of the Cock, which thing to be true, the
printer sente to know, and found him a lyer; but further inquiring,
at length found out his habitation, dwelling in maister Hilles
rentes, hauinge a pretye house, well stuffed, with a fayre ioyne
table, and a fayre cubbard garnished with peuter, hauing an old
auncient woman to his wyfe. The printer being sure therof, repaired
vnto the Counter, and rebuked him for his beastly behaviour, and
told him of his false fayning, willed him to confesse it, and
aske forgivenes: he perceyued him to know his depe dissimulation,
relented, and confessed all his disceit; and so remayning in the
counter thrée dayes, was removed to Brydwel, where he was strypt
starke naked, and his ougly attyre put vpo_n_ him before the
maisters thereof, who wondered greatly at his dissimulation: for
which offence he stode vpon the pillery in Cheapsyde, both in his
ougly and handsome attyre. And after that went in the myll whyle his
ougly picture was a drawing; and then was whypped at a cartes tayle
through London, and his displayd banner caried before him vnto his
own dore, and so backe to Brydewell again, and there remayned for a
tyme, and at length let at libertie, on that condicio_n_ he would
proue an honest man, and labour truly to get his liuing. And his
picture remayneth in Bridewell for a monyment.”—See, also, _post_,
p. 89.]

{57}

¶ A DOMMERAR. Cap. 12.

++THese Dommerars are leud and most subtyll people: the moste part of these are Walch men, and wyll neuer speake, vnlesse they haue extreame punishment, but wyll gape, and with a maruelous force wyll hold downe their toungs doubled, groning for your charyty, and holding vp their handes full pitiously, so that with their déepe dissimulation they get very much. There are of these many, _and_ but one that I vnderstand of hath lost his toung in dede. Hauing on a time occasion to ride to Dartforde, to speake with a priest there, who maketh all kinde of conserues very well, and vseth stilling of waters; And repayringe to his house, I founde a Dommerar at his doore, and the priest him selfe perusinge his[122] lycence, vnder the seales and hands of certayne worshypfull men, had[123] thought the same to be good and effectuall. I taking the same writing, and {58} reading it ouer, and noting the seales, founde one of the seales like vnto a seale that I had aboute me, which seale I bought besides Charing crosse, that I was out of doubte it was none of those Gentlemens seales that had sub[s]cribed. And hauing vnderstanding before of their peuish practises, made me to conceaue that all was forged and nought. I made the more hast home; for well I wyst that he would and must of force passe through the parysh where I dwelt; for there was no other waye for hym. And comminge homewarde, I found them in the towne, accordinge to my expectation, where they were staid; for there was a Pallyarde associate with the Dommerar and partaker of his gaynes, whyche Pallyarde I sawe not at Dartford. The stayers of them was a gentleman called[124] _Chayne_, and a seruant of my Lord Kéepers, cald _Wostestowe_, which was [leaf 17, back] the chiefe causer of the staying of them, being a Surgien, _and_ cunning in his science, had séene the lyke practises, and, as he sayde, hadde caused one to speake afore that was dome[125]. It was my chaunce to come at the begynning of the matter. “Syr,” (quoth this Surgien) “I am bold here to vtter some part of my cunning. I trust” (quoth he) “you shall se a myracle wrought anon. For I once” (quoth he) “made a dumme man to speake.” Quoth I, “you are wel met, and somwhat you haue preuented me; for I had thought to haue done no lesse or they hadde passed this towne. For I well knowe their writing is fayned, and they depe dissemblers.” The Surgien made hym gape, _and_ we could sée but halfe a toung. I required the Surgien to put hys fynger in his mouth, _and_ to pull out his toung, and so he dyd, not withstanding he held strongly a prety whyle; at the length he pluckt out the same, to the great admiration of many that stode by. Yet when we sawe his tounge, hée would neither speake nor yet could heare. Quoth I to the Surgien, “knit two of his fyngers to gether, and thrust a stycke betwene them, and rubbe the same vp and downe a lytle whyle, and for my lyfe hée speaketh by and by.” “Sir,” quoth this Surgien, “I praye you let me practise and[126] other waye.” I was well contented to sée the same. He had him into a house, and tyed a halter aboute the wrestes of his handes, and hoysed him vp ouer a beame, and {59} there dyd let him hang a good while: at _th_e length, for very paine he required for Gods sake to let him down. So he that was both deafe and dume coulde in short tyme both heare and speake. Then I tooke that money I could find in his pursse, and distributed the same to the poore people dwelling there, whiche was xv. pence halfepeny, being all that we coulde finde. That done, and this merry myracle madly made, I sent them with my seruaunt to the next Iusticer, where they preached on the Pyllery for want of a Pulpet, and were well whypped, and none dyd bewayle them.

[Footnote 122: _of his._ B.]

[Footnote 123: _which priest had._ B.]

[Footnote 124: _cal-_ (_sic_). B.]

[Footnote 125: _dumme._ B.]

[Footnote 126: So printed. _an._ B.]

[Headnote: HARMON. A PRYGGE.]

¶ A DRONKEN TINCKAR. Cap. 13.

++THese dronken Tynckers, called also Prygges, be beastly people, _and_ these yong knaues be _th_e wurst. These neuer go w_i_t_h_ out their Doxes, and yf their women haue anye thing about them, as apparell or lynnen, that is worth the selling, they laye the same to gage, or sell it out right, for bene bowse at their bowsing ken. And full sone wyll they bée wearye of them, and haue a newe. When they happen one woorke at any good house, their Doxes lynger alofe, and tarry for them in some corner; and yf he taryeth longe from her, then she knoweth [leaf 18] he hath worke, and walketh neare, and sitteth downe by him. For besydes money, he looketh for meate and drinke for doinge his dame pleasure. For yf she haue thrée or foure holes in a pan, hee wyll make as many more for spedy gaine. And if he se any old ketle, chafer, or pewter dish abroad in the yard where he worketh, hée quicklye snappeth the same vp, and in to the booget it goeth round. Thus they lyue with deceite.

++{ I was crediblye informed, by such as could well tell, that one of these tipling Tinckers w_i_t_h_ his dogge robbed by the } high way iiij. Pallyards and two Roges, six persons together, and tooke from them aboue foure pound in ready money, _and_ hide him after in a thicke woode a daye or two, and so escaped vntaken. Thus with picking and stealing, mingled with a lytle worke for a coulour, they passe their time. {60}

¶ A SWADDER, OR PEDLER. Cap. 14.

++THese Swadders and Pedlers bee not all euyll, 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 for as much as they séeke gayne vnlawfully against the lawes and statutes of this noble realme, they are well worthy to be registred among the number of vacabonds; and vndoubtedly I haue hadde some of them brought before me, when I was in commission of the peace, as malefactors, for bryberinge and stealinge. And nowe of late it is a greate practes of the vpright man, when he hath gotten a botye, to bestowe the same vpon a packefull of wares, and so goeth a time for his pleasure, because he would lyue with out suspition.

¶ A IARKE MAN, AND A PATRICO. Cap. 15.

++FOR as much as these two names, a Iarkeman and a Patrico, bée in the old briefe of vacabonds, and set forth as two kyndes of euil doers, you shall vnderstande that a Iarkeman hathe his name of a Iarke, which is a seale in their Language, as one should make writinges and set seales for lycences and pasporte[127]. And for trouth there is none that goeth aboute the countrey of them that can eyther wryte so good and fayre a hand, either indite so learnedly, as I haue sene _and_ handeled a number of them: but haue the same made in good townes where they come, as what can not be hadde for money, as the prouerbe sayth (“_Omnia venalia Rome_”), and manye hath confessed the same to me. [leaf 18, back] Now, also, there is a Patrico, and not a Patriarcho[128], whiche in their language is a priest that should make mariages tyll death dyd depart; but they haue none such, I am well assured; for I put you out of doubt that not one amo[n]gest a hundreth of them are maried, for they take lechery for no sinne, but naturall fellowshyp and good lyking loue: so that I wyll not blot my boke with these two that be not.

[Footnote 127: _pasportes._ B.]

[Footnote 128: _Patriarch._ B.]

{61}

¶ A DEMAUNDER FOR GLYMMAR. Cap. 16.

++THese Demaunders for glymmar be for the moste parte wemen; for glymmar, in their language, is fyre. These goe with fayned[129] lycences and counterfayted wrytings, hauing the hands and seales of suche gentlemen as dwelleth nere to the place where they fayne them selues to haue bene burnt, and their goods consumed with fyre. They wyll most lamentable[130] demaunde your charitie, _and_ wyll quicklye shed salte teares, they be so tender harted. They wyll neuer begge in that Shiere where their losses (as they say) was. Some of these goe with slates at their backes, which is a shéete to lye in a nightes. The vpright men be very familiare with these kynde of wemen, and one of them helpes an other.

¶ A Demaunder for glymmar came vnto a good towne in Kente, to aske the charitie of the people, hauinge a fayned lycens aboute her that declared her misfortune by fyre, donne in Somerset shyre, walkinge with a wallet on her shoulders, where in shée put the deuotion of suche as hadde no money to geue her; that is to saye, Malte, woll, baken, bread, and cheese; and alwayes, as the same was full, so was it redye money to her, when she emptyed the same, where so euer shee trauelede: thys harlot was, as they terme it, snowte fayre, and had an vpright man or two alwayes attendinge on her watche (whyche is on her parson), and yet so circumspecte, that they woulde neuer bee séene in her company in any good towne, vnlesse it were in smale vyllages where typling houses weare, eyther trauelinge to gether by the hygh wayes; but _th_e troth is, by report, she would wekely be worth vi. or seuen shyllinges with her begging and bycherye. This glimmering Morte, repayringe to an Ine in _th_e sayde towne where dwelt a wydow of fyftie wynter olde of good welth; but she had an vnthryftye sonne, whom she vsed as a chamberlaine to attend gestes when they repared to her house: this amerous man, be holdinge with ardante eyes thys[131] glymmeringe glauncer, was presentlye pyteouslye persed to the hart, and lewdlye longed to bée clothed vnder her lyuerye; and bestowinge [leaf 19] a {62} fewe fonde wordes with her, vnderstode strayte that she woulde be easlye perswaded to lykinge lechery, and as a man mased, mused howe to attayne to his purpose, for[132] he hadde no money. Yet consideringe wyth hym selfe that wares woulde bée welcome where money wanted, hée went with a wannion to his mothers chamber, and there sekinge aboute for odde endes, at length founde a lytle whystell of syluer that his mother dyd vse customablye to weare on, and had forgot the same for haste that morninge, and offeres the same closely to this manerly marian, that yf she would mete hym on the backesyde of the towne and curteously kys him with out constraynt, she shoulde bée mystres thereof, and it weare much better. “Well,” sayth she, “you are a wanton;” and beholdinge the whystell, was farther in loue there with then rauysht wyth his person, and agred to mete him presently, and to accomplyshe his fonde fancy:—to be short, and not tedyous, a quarter of a myle from the towne, he merely toke measure of her vnder a bawdye bushe; so she gaue hym that she had not, and he receiued that he coulde not; and taking leue of eche other with a curteous kysse, she plesantly passed forth one her iornaye, _and_ this vntoward lycorous chamberlayne repayred home warde. But or these two tortylles tooke there leue, the good wyfe myssed her whystell, and sent one of her maydenes in to her chamber for the same, and being long sawght for, none coulde be founde; her mystres hering that, diligent search was made for the same; and that it was taken awaye, began to suspecte her vnblessed babe, and demaunded of her maydens whether none of them sawe her sonne in her chamber that morning, and one of them aunswered that she sawe him not there, but comming from thens: then had she ynough, for well she wyste that he had the same, and sent for him, but he could not be founde. Then she caused her hosteler, in whome she had better affyaunce in for his trouth,—and yet not one amongst twenty of them but haue well left there honesty, (As I here a great sorte saye)—to come vnto her, whiche attended to knowe her pleasure. “Goe, seke out,” saythe she, “my vntowarde sonne, and byd hym come speake with me.” “I sawe him go out,” saythe he, “halfe an houre {63} sithens one the backesyde. I hadde thought you hadde sent him of your arrante.” “I sent him not,” quoth she; “goe, loke him out.”

[Footnote 129: _faynen._ B.]

[Footnote 130: _lamentably._ B.]

[Footnote 131: _beholding this._ B.]

[Footnote 132: _but._ B.]