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Discovering Diverse Content Through
Random Scribd Documents
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 Ierken101 of leather patched, and
that was lose102 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 refuseth103 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.”

99 they. B.
100 my my. B.
101 gyrken (et seqq.). B.
102 loose. B.
103 refused. B.
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 trouth105, 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.

105 trough. B.
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 he107 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,” sayth108 thys Prynter, “I must see
more.” Saythe this Cranke, “I pray God I bée dampned both body109
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 that 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 beard111, and fayre
skynned, withoute anye spot or greffe. Then the good wyfe of the
house fet her goodmans112 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.

107 Omitted in 1573 edit.

 Thus he set113 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 spoyling him of his
euyl gotten goods, his passing pens115, and fleting trashe, The
printer with this offecer were in gealy gealowsit116, 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 Cranke, espying al gon, requested the 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 could118 neuer be hard of 119†againe.* Now† the next

morning betimes, I went vnto Newington, to vnderstand 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.
108 sayih (sic). B.
109 printed dody
110 §–§ d. ob. B.
111 bede. B.
112 mans. B.
113 1573 inserts him; sette hym. B.
114 1573 inserts that
115 pence. B.
116 The 1573 edition reads ioly ioylitie; gelowsy. B.
117 *–* The 1573 edition finishes the sentence thus:—“ouer the fields to his own
house, as hée afterwards said.”
118 woulde. B.
119 †–† again til now. B.
120 ‡–‡ d. ob. B.
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 the 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 when 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 the 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 commaundement 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 the twayn being lighter of
fote, ouertoke him at fleete bridge, and with strong hand caried him to the counter,
and safely deliuered him. In the morow the 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, that 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 vpon 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 condicion 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.

Hese 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 his122 lycence, vnder
the seales and hands of certayne worshypfull men, had123 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 called124 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 dome125. 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 and126 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 the 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.
122 of his. B.
123 which priest had. B.
124 cal- (sic). B.
125 dumme. B.
126 So printed. an. B.
 [Headnote: HARMON. A PRYGGE.]

¶ A DRONKEN TINCKAR. Cap. 13.

Hese dronken Tynckers, called also Prygges, be beastly people,
and these yong knaues be the wurst. These neuer go with 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 with 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.
Hese 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.

OR 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 pasporte127. 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 Patriarcho128, 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.
127 pasportes. B.
128 Patriarch. B.
 {61}

¶ A DEMAUNDER FOR GLYMMAR. Cap. 16.

Hese Demaunders for glymmar be for the moste parte wemen;
for glymmar, in their language, is fyre. These goe with
fayned129 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 lamentable130 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 the 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 the
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 thys131 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, for132 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.”

129 faynen. B.
130 lamentably. B.
131 beholding this. B.
132 but. B.

¶ This hollowe hosteler toke his staffe in his necke, and trodged
out apase that waye he sawe him before go, and had some
vnderstanding, by one of the maydens, that his mistres had her
whistell stolen and suspected her sonne; and he had not gone farre
but that he espyed him comming homeward alone, and, meting him,
axed where he had ben. [leaf 19, back] “Where haue I bene?” quoth he,
and began to smyle. “Now, by the mas, thou hast bene at some
baudy banquet.” “Thou hast euen tolde trouth,” quoth thys
chamberlayne. “Sewerly,” quoth this hosteler, “thou haddest the
same woman that begged at our house to day, for the harmes she
had by fyre: where is she?” quoth he. “She is almost a myle by this
tyme,” quoth this chamberlayne. “Where is my mystres whystell?”
quoth this hosteler; “for I am well assured that thou haddest it, and
I feare me thou hast geuen it to that harlot.” “Why! is it myssed?”
quoth this chamberlayne. “Yea,” quoth this hosteler, and shewed him
all the hole circumstaunce, what was both sayde and thought on him
for the thing. “Well, I wyl tell the,” quoth this Chamberlayne. “I
wylbe playne with the. I had it in dede, and haue geuen the same to
this woman, and I praye the make the best of it, and helpe nowe to
excuse the matter, and yet surely and thou wouldest take so much
payne for me as to ouer take her, (for she goeth but softly, and is
not yet farre of) and take the same from her, and I am euer thyne
assured fréende.” “Why, then, go with me,” quoth this hostler. “Nay,
in faythe,” quoth this Chamberlayne; “what is frear then gift? and I
hadde prety pastime for the same.” “Hadest thou so?” quoth this
hosteler; “nowe, by the masse, and I wyll haue some to, or I wyll lye
in the duste or I come agayne.” Passing with hast to ouer take this
paramoure, within a myle from the place where he departed he
ouertoke her, hauing an vpright man in her company, a stronge and
a sturdye vacabond: some what amased was this hosteler to se one
familiarly in her company, for he had well hopped to haue had some
delycate dalyance, as his fellowe hadde; but, seinge the matter so
fallout, and being of {64} good corage, and thinking to him selfe that
one true man was better then two false knaues, and being on the
high way, thought vpon helpe, if nede had bene, by such as had
passed to and fro, Demaunded fersely the whistell that she had euyn
nowe of his fellowe. “Why, husband,” quoth she, “can you suffer this
wretche to slaunder your wyfe?” “A vaunt verlet,” quoth this vpright
man, and letes dryue with all his force at this hosteler, and after
halfe133 a dosen blowes, he strycks his staffe out of his hande, and
as this hosteler stept backe to haue taken vp his staffe agayne, his
glymmeringe Morte flinges a great stone at him, and strake him one
the heade that downe hee fales, wyth the bloud about his eares, and
whyle hée laye this amased, the vpright man snatches awaye his
pursse, where in hée hadde money of his mystresses as well as of
his owne, and there let him lye, and went a waye with spede that
they were neuer harde of more. When this drye beaten hosteler was
come to him selfe, hée fayntlye wandereth home, and crepethe in to
hys couche, and restes [leaf 20] his ydle heade: his mystres harde that
hée was come in, and layde him downe on his beade, repayred
straight vnto him, and aske hym what he ayled, and what the cause
was of his so sudden lying one his bed. “What is the cause?” quoth
this hosteler; “your whystell, your whistel,”—speaking the same
pyteouslye thre or foure tymes. “Why, fole,” quoth his mystrisse,
“take no care for that, for I doe not greatly waye it; it was worth but
thrée shyllinges foure pens.” “I would it had bene burnt for foure
yeares agon.” “I praye the why so,” quoth his mystres; “I think thou
art mad.” “Nay, not yet,” quoth this hosteler, “but I haue bene madly
handlyd.” “Why, what is the matter?” quoth his mystres, and was
more desirous to know the case. “And you wyl for geue my fellowe
and me, I wyll shewe you, or els I wyll neuer doe it.” Shée made
hym presently faithfull promisse that shée woulde. “Then,” saythe
hee, “sende for your sonne home agayne, whyche is ashamed to
loke you in the face.” “I agre there to,” sayth shée. “Well, then,”
quoth this hosteler, “youre sonne hathe geuen the same Morte that
begged here, for the burninge of her house, a whystell, and you
haue geuen her v. shyllinges in money, {65} and I haue geuen her ten
shyllinges of my owne.” “Why, howe so?” quoth she. Then he sadly
shewed her of his myshap, with all the circumstaunce that you haue
harde before, and howe hys pursse was taken awaye, and xv.
shyllinges in the same, where of v. shyllinges was her money and x.
shyllinges his owne money. “Is this true?” quoth his mystres. “I, by
my trouth,” quoth this hosteler, “and nothing greues me so much,
neyther my beating, neither the losse of my money, as doth my euell
and wreched lucke.” “Why, what is the matter?” quoth his mystres.
“Your sonne,” saythe this hosteler, “had some chere and pastyme for
that whystell, for he laye with her, and I haue bene well beaten, and
haue had my pursse taken from me, and you knowe your sonne is
merrye and pleasaunt, and can kepe no great councell; and then
shall I bemocked and loughed to skorne in all places when they shall
here howe I haue bene serued.” “Nowe, out vpon you knaues both,”
quoth his mystres, and laughes oute the matter; for she well sawe it
would not other wyse preuayle.

133 Omitted in 1573

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