❧ A Caveat FOR comen CURSETORS WLGARELY CALLED Vagabones, set forth by Thomas Harman. Esquire, for the utility and profit of his natural Country. Newly agmented and Imprinted Anno Domini. M.D.LXVII.  ¶ Viewed, examined and allowed, according unto the Queen's majesties Injunctions  depiction of two beggars or vagrants with a horse and cart and a small dog, accompanied by two uniformed men or soldiers with whips 
❧ IMPRINTED at London in Fletestret at the sign of the Falcon by William Gryffith and are to be sold at his shop in Saint Dunston's Church yard. in the West.   

 depiction of a besom or bunch of twigs, a stick or staff, and some rope or string, all separate  

Three things to be noted  
all in their kind,  
A staff, a besom, and  
with, that will wind.   

¶ A besom of byrche, for babes very fit,  
A long lasting iybbet for loubbers as meet,  
A with to wind up, that these will not keep,  
Bind all up in one, and use it to sweep.   
 depiction of a broom, composed of a besom or bunch of twigs, a stick or staff, and some rope or string, bound together   

¶ To the right honourable and my singular good Lady. Elizabeth Countess of Shrewsbury. Thomas Harman wisheth all joy and perfit felicity here and in the world to come.  
AS of Ancient and long time, there hath been and is now at this present many good godly profitable laws and acts made and set forth in this most noble and flourishing realm, for the relief, succour, comfort and sustentation of the poor needy impotent and miserable creatures, being and in habiting in all parts of the same. So is there (right honourable and mine especial good Lady) most wholesome statutes, ordinances and necessary laws, made setforth and published for the extreme punishment of all vagarantes and sturdy vacabons, as passeth through and by all parts of this famous isle most idly and wickedly, And I well by good experience understanding and considering your most tender, pitiful, gentle and noble nature, not only having a vygelant and merciful eye to your poor indygente and feeble parishnores, yea not only in the parish where your honour most happily doth dwell, but also in others, invyroninge or nigh adjoining to the same. As also abundantly pouring out daily your ardent and bountiful charity upon all such as cometh for relief unto your luckily gates.  
I thought it good, necessary, and my bounden duty to acquaint your goodness with the abominable, wicked and detestable behaviour of all these rowsey, ragged rabblement of rakehells, that under the presence of great misery, diseases and other innumerable calamities which they feign through great hypocrisy do win and gain great aims in all places where they wily wander, to the utter deludinge of the good givers, deceiving and impoverishing of all such poor householders both sick and sore, as neither can or may walk abroad for relief and comfort (where in deed most mercy is to be showed.) And for that I (most honourable Lady) being placed as a poor gentleman have kept a house these twenty years, where unto poverty daily hath and doth repair, not without some relief as my poor calling and habylytie may and doth extend: I have of late years gathered a great suspicion that all should not be well, and as the proverb saith (some thing lurk and lay hid that did not plainly appear) for I having more occasion through sickness to tarry and remain at home, than I have been accustomed do by my there abiding, talk and confer daily with many of these wyly-wanderars of both sorts as well men and women, as boys and girls: by whom I have gathered and understand, their deep dissimulation and detestable dealing, being marvelous subtle and crafty in there kind, for not one amongst twenty will discover either declare there scelorus secrets: yet with fair flattering words, money, and good cheer, I have attained to the typ by such as the meanest of them hath wandered these xiii years and most xvi, and some twenty and upward, and not without faithful promise made unto them never to discover their names or any thing they showed me: for they would all say if the upright men should understand thereof they should not be only grievously beaten, but put in danger of their lives by the said upright men. There was a few years since a small brief set forth of some zealous man to his country of whom I know not, that made a little show of there names and usage, and gave a glimpsing light not sufficient to persuade of their pevyshe pelting and picking practises, but well worthy of praise. But (good madame) with no less travel then good will, I have repaired and rygged the Ship of knowledge, and have hoist up the sails of good fortune, that she may safely pass about and through all parts of this noble realm, and there make port sale of her wished wares, to the confusion of their drowseye demener, and unlawful languag, pylfring pycking, wily wandering, and liking lechery, of all these rabblement of rascales, that ranges about all the costs of the same. So that their undecent doleful dealing and excerable exercises, may apere to all as it were in a glass, that thereby the justicers and Shréeves may in their cercutes, be more vygelant to punish these malefactors, and the Counstables' Bailiffs, and bosholders setting aside all fear, sloth, & pity, may be more circomspecte in executing the charge given than by the aforesaid justicers. Then will no more this rascal rabblement range about the country, than greater relief may be showed to the poverty of each parish, then shall we keep our Horses in our pastures unstolen, than our linen clothes shall and may lie safely one our hedges untouched, then shall we not have our clothes and linen hooked out at our windows as well by day as by night. Then shall we not have our houses broken up in the night, as of late one of my nyghtbors had and two great bucks of clothes stolen out, and most of the same fine Linen. Then shall we safely keep our pigs and poultry from pylfringe. Then shall we surely pass by the high ways leading to markets and fairs unharmed. Then shall our Shops and booths be unpycked and spoiled. Then shall these uncomely companies be dispersed and set to labour for their living, or hastily hang for their demerits. Then shall it incourag a great number of gentlemen and others seeing this security, to set up houses and keep hospitalyty in the country, too the comfort of their nighboures, relief of the poor, & to the amendemet of the commonwealth. Then shall not sin and wickedness so much abound among us. Then will gods wrath be much thee more pacified towards us. Then shall we not taste of so many and sundry plagues, as now daily reigneth over us. And then shall this Famous Empire, be in more wealth and better flourish, to the inestimable joy and comfort of the queens most excellent majesty whom god of his infynyce goodness to his great glory long and many years make most prosperously to reign over us to the great felicity of all the Peres and Nobles, and to the unspeakable joy relief and quietness of mind of all her faithful Commons and Subjects. Now me thinketh I fellow these peevish perverse and pestilence people begyne to fret, fume, swear and stare at this my book, their life being laid open and apparently painted out that their confusion and end draweth one a pace Where as in deed if it be well weighed it is set forth for their singular profit and commodity, for the sure safeguard of their lives here in this world, that they shorter not the same before their time, and that by their true labour and good life, in the world to come they may save their Souls, that christ the second person in trinity hath so dearly bought with his most precious blood: so that hereby I shall do them more good than they could have devised for themselves. For behold their life being so manifest wicked and so aparantlye known, the honourable will abhor them. The worshipful will reject them, the yeomen will sharply tawnte them, The Husband men utterly defy them, The Labouring men bluntly chide them, The women with a loud reclamation wonder at them. And all Children with clapping hands cry out at them, I many times musing with myself at these mischievous mislivers marveled when they took their original and beginning, how long they have exercised their execrable wandering a bout. I thought it meet to confer with a very old man that I was well acquainted with, whose wit and memory is marvelous for his years, being about the age of fourscore, what he knew when he was young of these lousey leuterars. And he showed me that when he was young, he waited upon a man of much worship in Kent, who died immediately after the last Duke of Buckingham was beheaded, at his burial there was such a number of beggars besides poor householders dwelling there abouts that uneath they mightily or stand about the House: then was there prepared for them a great and a large barn, and a great far o'er sod out in Furmentye for them, with bread and drink abundantly to furnesh out the premises, and every person had two pence for such was the dole. When Night approached the poor householders repaired home to their houses, the other wayfaring bold beggars remained all night in the barn, and the same barn being searched with light in the night by this old man and then young, with others, they told seven score persons of men, every of them having his woman, except it were two women that lay alone together for some especial cause. Thus having their makes to make merry with all, the burial was turned to bousing and belly cheer, morning to mirth, fasting to feasting, prayer to pastime, and pressing of papes, and lamenting to Lechery. So that it may apere this uncomely company hath had a long continuance, but then nothing given so much to pylferinge, pyckinge and spoiling, and as far as I can learn or understand by the examination of a number of them, their languag, which they term peddelars French or cantig began but within these xxx years little above, and that the first inventor thereof was hanged, all save the head, for that is the final end of them all, or else to die of some filthy and horrible diseases: but much harm is done in the means space by their continuance, as some x. xii. and xvi years before they be consented, and the number of them doth daily renew. I hope their sin is now at the highest, and that as short and as speedy a redress will be for these, as hath been of late years for the wretched, wily wandering vagabonds, calling and naming themselves Egyptians, deeply dissemblings and long hydinge and covering their deppe deceitful practices, feeding the rude common people wholly addicted and given to novelites, joys, and new iwentions, delytinge them with the strangeness of the attire of their heads, and practicing paumistrie to such as would know their fortunes. And to be short all thieves and hores, as I may well writ, as some have had true experience, a number can well witness, and a great sort hath will felt it. And now (thanks be to god) through wholesome laws and the due execution thereof, all be dispersed, vanished, & the memory of then clean extinguished, that when they be once named hereafter, our Children will much marvel what kind of people they were: and so I trust shall shortly happen of these. For what thing doth chief cause these rowseye rake hells thus to continue and daily increase? surely a number of wicked parsons that keep typling Houses in all theirs, where they have succour and relief, and what so ever they bring they are sure to receive money for the same, for they sell good pennyworths. The buyers have the greatest gain, yea if they have neither money nor ware they will be trusted, their credit is much. I have taken a note of a good many of them & wylsend their names and dwelling places to such Instecers as dwelleth near or next unto them, that they by their good wisdoms may displace the same, and auctoryse such, as have honesty. I will not blot my book with their names, because they be resident. But as for this fletinge fellowship I have truly setforth the most part of them that be doers at this present with their names that they be knowene by. Also I have placed in the end thereof their lewd language calling the same peddlers French or canting. And how shall I end my prologue, making true declaration (right honourable Lady) as they shall fall in order of their untimely tryfelinge time, lewd life, and pernicious practices, trusting that the same shall neither trouble or abash your most tender, timorous and pitiful Nature, to think the small meed should grow unto you for such Alms so given. For god our marcifull and most loving father well knoweth your hearts and good intent, the giver never wanteth his reward, according to the saying of Saint Augustyn: as there is (neither shallbe) any sin unpunished, even so shall there not be any good deed unrewarded. But how comfortably speaketh christ our Saviour unto as in his gospel (give ye and it shallbe given you again) behold farther, good Madam that for a cup of cold water, christ hath promised a good reward. Now saint Austen properly declareth why christ speaketh of cold water, because the poorest man that is, shall not excuse himself from that charitable work lest he would peradventure say that he hath neither wood, poot nor pan to warm any water with. See farther what god speaketh in the mouth of his prophet Isaiah, break thy bread to him that is a hungered, he saith not give him a hole lose: for peradventure the poor man hath it not to give, then let him give a piece. This much is said because the poor that hath it should not be excused, now how much more then, the rich? Thus you see good madam. for your treasure here dispersed where need and lack is, it shall be heaped by abundantly for you in heaven, where neither rust or moth shall corrupt or destroy the same. Unto which triumphant place after many good happy, and fortunate years prosperously here dispended, you may for ever and ever there most joyfully remain. Amen.  
Finis.  depiction of a female figure with a book on a lectern   

¶ The Epistle to the Reader.  
ALthough good Reader I wright in plain terms and not so plainly as truly, concerning the matter meaning honestly to all men, and wish them as much good as to mine own heart, yet as there hath been so there is now, and hereafter will be, curious heads to find fauttes, wherefore I thought it necessary now at this second Impression to acquaint that with a great fault as some taketh it, but none as I mean it, calling these Vagabonds Cursetors in the intyteling of my book as runneres or rangers about the country, derived of this Latin word (CURRO) neither do I write it Cooresetores with a double do or Cowresetors with a w which hath another singnification, is there no deversite between a garden and a garden, maintenance, & maintenance, straights and streets, those that have understanding know there is a great difference, who is so ingnorant by these days as knoweth not the meaning of a vagabone, and if an idle leuterat should so be called of any man, would not he think it both odious and reproachful, will he not shun the name? ye and where as he may and dare, with bend brows will revenge that name of Ingnomy, yet this plain name vagabone is derived as others be of Latin words, and now use makes it comen to all men, but let us look back four. C. years sithence, & let us see whether this plain word vagabon was used or no, I believe not and why, because I read of no such name in the old statutes of this realm, unless it be in the margente of the book, or in the Table, which in the collection and pryntinge was set in, but these were then the comen names of these lewd leuterares Faytores, Robardesmen, Drawlatches, & valiant beggars, if I should have used such words or the same drder of writing as this realm used in king Henry the third or Edward the fyrstes time, Oh what a gross barbarous fellow have we here his writing is both homely and dark that we had need to have an interpretar, yet than it was very well and in short season a great change we see well this delycat age shall have his time on the other side, eloquence have I none, I never was acquainted with the muses, I never tasted of Helicon. But according to my plain order, I have setforth this work simply and truly, with such usual words and terms as is among us well known and frequented. So that as the proverb saith (all though truth be blamed it shall never be shamed) well good reader I mean not to be tedious unto thee, but have added five or six more tales because some of them wear done while my book was first in the press, and as I trust I have deserved no rebuke for my good will, even so I desire no praise for my pain cost and travel. But faithfully for the profit and benyfyt of my country, I have done it, that the whole body of the Realm may see and understand their lewd life and pernicious practisses that all may speedily help to amend that is amiss, Amen say all with me.  
Finis.  knotwork ornament or design   

¶ A Ruffler  
THE Rufflar because he is first in degree of this odious order. And is so called in a statute made for the punishment of Vacabonds. In the xxvii year of King Henry the eight late of most famous memory. He shallbe, first placed as the worthiest of this unruly rabblement. And he is so called when he goeth first abroad either he hath served in the wars, or else he hath been a serving man and weary of well doing, shaking of all pain, doth choose him this idle life, and wretchely wanderes about the most shires of this realm. And with stout Adascite, demandeth where he thinketh he may be bold, and circomspecte enough as he seethe cause to ask charity, ruefully and lamentably, that it would make a flyntey heart to relent. and pity his miserable estate, how he hath been maimed and browsed in the wars, & peraventure some will show you some outward wound, which he got at some drunken fray, either halting of some privy wound festered with a filthy fiery flankard. For be well assured that the hardist soldiers be either slain or maimed, either and they escape all hassardes, and return home again, if they be without relief of their friends, they will surely desperately rob, and steal, and either shortly be hanged or miserably die in prison, for they be so much ashamed and disdain to beg or ask charity, that rather they will as desperately fight for to live & maintain themselves as manfully, and valiantly, they ventured themselves in the princes quarrel. Now these Rufflars the out casts of serving men when begging or craving fails, than they pick and pylfer from other inferior beggars, that they meet by the way as Rogues, Pallards', Mortes, and Doors. Yea if they meet with a woman alone riding to the market, either old man or boy, that he well knoweth will not resist, such they filch and spoil. These rufflares after a year or two at the farthest become upright men, unless they be prevented by twined hemp. ¶ I had of late years an old man to my tenant, who costomably a great time went twice in the week to London, either with fruit or with peascods, when time served therefore. And as he was coming homeward on black heath, at the end thereof next to shotars hill he over took two rufflars the one mannerly waiting on the other as one had been the master, & the other the man, or servant carrying his masteres cloak, this old man was very glad that Bee might have their company over the hill, because that day he had made a good market, for he had seven shillings in his purse, and a nolde angel, which this poor man had thought had not been in his purse, for he wylled his wife over night to take out the same angel, and lay it up until his coming home again. And he verily thought that his wife had so done, which in deed for got to do it. Thus after salutations, had this master rufflar entered into communication with this simple old man, who riding softly beside them, commoned of many matters. Thus feeding this old man with pleasant talk, until they were one the top of the hill, where these rufflares might well behold the coast about them clear. Quiclye steps unto this poor man, and taketh hold of his horse bridle, and leadeth him in to the wode, and demandeth of him what and how much money he had in his purse. Now by my troth quoth this old man you are a merry gentle man, I know you mean not to take away any thing from me, but rather to give me some if I should ask it of you. By and by this servant thief casteth the cloak that he carried on his arm about this poor manes face, that he should not mark or view them, with sharp words to deliver quickly that he had and to confess truly what was in his purse. This poor man then all abashed yielded, and confessed he had but just seven shylinge in his purse and the troth is he knew of no more. This old angel was fallen out of a little purse into the bottom of a great purse. Now this seven shillings in white money they quickly found, thinking in deed that there had been no more, yet farther groping and searching, found this old angel. And with great admiration this gentleman thief began to bless him saying, good lord what a whorlde is this, how may (quoth he) a man believe or trust in the same, see you not (quoth he) this old knave told me that he had but seven shillings, and here is more, by an angel, what an old knave and a false knave? have we here quoth this rufflar, our lord have mercy on us, will this world never be better, and there with went their way. And left the old man in the wood doing him no more harm. But sorrowfully sighing this old man returning home declared his misadventure, with all the words and circomstaunces above showed. Whereat for the time was great laughing, and this poor man for his losses among his loving neighbours well considered in the end.   

¶ A Upright man.  
A Upright man the second in sect of this unsemly sort must be next placed, of these rainging rabblement of rasscales some be serving men, artificers, and labouring men, traded up in husbandry. These not minding to get their living with the sweat of their face, but casting of all pain will wander after their wicked manner, through the most shires of this realm, as Somerset shire, wilshire, berkshire, Oxfordeshyre, Harfordeshyre, Middilsex, Essex, Suffolk, Norfolk Suffex, Surrye, and Kente, as the chief and best shires of relief. Yea not with out punishment by stocks, whippings, and imprisonment, in most of these places, above said. Yet not withstanding they have so good liking in their lewnd, lecherous loitering, that full quickly all their punishments is forgotten. And repentance is never thought upon, until they climb three tres with a ladder. These unrewly rascales in their roiling, disperse themselves, into several companies, as occasion serveth, sometime more and sometime less. As if they repair to a poor husbandman's house, he will go alone or one with him, and stoutly demand his charity, either showing how he hath served in the wars, and their maimed, either that he seeketh service, & saith he would be glad to take pain, for his living, although he meaneth nothing less. If he be offered any meat or drink, he utterly refuseth scornfully, and will nought but money, and if he espy young pyggs or poultry, he well noteth the place and the the next night or shortly after he will be sure to have some of them; which they bring to their stawlinge kens, which is their typpling houses, as well known to them according to the old proverb (as the beggar knows his dish.) For you must understand every Typpling ale house will neither receive them or their wares but some certain houses in every shire, especially for that purpose, where they shallbe better welcome to them, then honister men. For by such have they most gain, and shallbe conveyed either into some fit out of the way, or other secret corner not comen to any other, and thither repair, at accustomed times, their harlots which they term Mortes, and Doxes, not with empty hands, for they be as skilful in picking, riffling & filching, as the upright men, and nothing inferior, to them in all kind of wickedness, as in other places hereafter they shallbe touched. At these foresaid pelting penish places and unmannerly, meeting O how the pots walk about, their talking tongues talk at large. They howl and bows one to another, and for the time housing belly there. And after there ruysting recreation if there be not room enough in the house they have clean straw in some barn or backehouse near adjoining where they couch comely together, and it were dog, and byche, and he that is hardyste may have his choice, unless for a little good manner some will take there own that they have made promise unto, until they be out of sight, and then according to the old adage (out of mind.) Yet these upright men stand so much upon their reputation, as they will in no case have their women walk with them, but separate themselves for a time, a month or more. And meet at fairs, or great markers where they meet to pylfer and steal, from staules, shops, or booths. At these fairs the upright men, use commonly to lie, & lingar in high ways by lanes. some pretty way or distance from the place, by which ways they be assured that company passeth still, two and fro. And there the will demand with cap in hand and comely courtesy, the devotion and charity of the people. They have been much lately whipped at fayrs. If they ask at a stout yemans, or farmers' house his charity, they will go strong as three or four in a company. Where for fear more than good will, they often have relief, they seldom or never pass by a justices house, but have by ways, unless he dwell alone and but weakelye manned thither will they also go strong after a sly subtle fort, as with their arms bound up with ketcher or list, having wrappeth about the same filthy clothes, either their legs in such manner bewrapped halting down right, Not unprovided of good codgels which they carry to sustain them, and as they fain to keep dogs from them, when they come to such good gentlemen's houses If any search be made or they suspected for pyltring clothes, of hedgges, or breaking of houses, which they commonly do, when the owners be either at the market, church, or other ways occupied about their business, either rob some silly man or woman by the high way, as many times they do. Then they high them into woods, great thickets, and other ruff corneres, where they lie lurking three or four days together, and have meat and drink brought them by their Mortes, and Doors, and while they thus lie hidden in covert in the night they be not idle, neither as the common saying is (well occupied) for then as the wily fox creeping out of his den seeketh his pray for pultery so do these for linen and any thing else worth money, that lieth about or near a house. As sometime a whole buck of clothes carried away at a tyme. When they have a greater booty than they may carry away quickly to their stawling kendes as is above said. They will hide the same for a three days in some thick covert, and in the night time carry the same like good water Spanlles to their foresaid houses, to whom they will discover. Where or in what places they had the same, where the marks shallbe picked out clean, & conveyed craftelye face of to sell. If the man or woman of the house want money themselves. If these upright men have neither money nor wares, at these houses they shallbe trusted for their vitales, and it amount, to twenty or thirty shillings. Yea if it fortune any of these upright men to be taken either suspected or charged with felony, or petye brybrye, done at such a time or such a place, he will say he was in his hosts house. And if the man or wife of that house be examined by an officer, they boldly vouch that they lodged him such a time whereby the truth cannot appear. And if the chance to be retained into service through their lamentable words, with any wealthy man. They will tarry but a small time, either robbing his master, or some of his fellows. And some of them useth this polocye, that although they travail into all these shires, above said, yet will they have good credit espiciallye in one shire where at divers good farmers' houses they be well known where they work a month in a place or more & will for that time behave themselves very honestly and painfully. And may at any time for their good usage have work of them and to these at a dead life or last refuge they may safely repair unto and be welcome. When in other places for a knack of knavery that they have played they dare not tarry. These upright men will seldom or never want, for what is gotten by any Mort, or Doxe, if it please him he doth command the same. And if he meet any beggar whether he be sturdy or impotent he will demand of him whether ever he was stalled to the rogue or no. If he say he was, he will know of whom and his name that stalled him. And if he be not learnedly able to show him the whole circumstance thereof he will spoil him of his money, either of his best garment if it be worth any money, and have him to the bousing ken. Which is to some typpling house next adjoining and layeth their to gage the best thing that he hath for twenty pence or two shillings, this man obeyeth for fear of beating. Then doth this upriight man call for a gage of bows which is a quart pot of drink and powers the same upon his pelde pay adding these words. I. G. P. do stalle thee W. T. to the Rogue, and that from hence forth it shall be lawful for the to cante, that is to ask or beg, for thy living in all places. Here you see that the upright man is of great auctoriti For all sorts of beggars, are obedient to his hests, and sermounteth all others in pyltring, and stealing. I lately had standing in my well house which standeth on the backside of my house, a great cawdrens of copper being then full of water, having in the same half a doson of pewter dishes, well marked, and stamped with the connizance of my arms, which being well noted when they were taken out were set a side the water powered out, and my cauldron taken away, being of such bygnes that one man unless he were of great strength was not able far to carry the same. Not withstanding the same was one night within this two years conveyed more than half a mile from my house, into a common or heath. And there bestowed in a great firbushe. I then immediately the next day sent one of my men to London, and there gave warning in Sothwarke, kent street, and Barmesey street to all the Tynckars there dwelling. That if any such caudorn came, thither to be sold, the bringar thereof should be stayed, and promised twenty shillings for a reward. I gave also intelligence to the water men that kept the ferres that no such vessel should be either conveyed to London, or into essex promising the like reward, to have understanding thereof. This my doing was well understand in many places, about, and that the fear of espying so troubled the conscience of the stealer, that my caudorendaye untouched in the thick firbushe more than half a year after which by a great chance was found by hunteres for conneys, for one chanced to run into the same bush where my cauldron was and being perceived one thrust his staff into the same bush and hit my cauldron a great blow the sound whereof did cause the man to think and hope that there was some great treasure hidden, whereby he thought to be the better while he lived. And in farther searching he found my cauldron, so had I the same again unlooked for.   

¶ A Hoker or Anggicar.  
THese hokers or Angglears be perilous and most wicked knaves, and be derived or proceed forth from the upright men they commonly go in frieze ierkynes and galley slopes pointed been the thekne, these when they practise there pylfringe it is all by night for as they walk a day times from house to house to demand charity they vigelantly mark where or in what place they may attain to there pray, casting there eyes up to every window well noting what they see their, whether apparel, or linen, hanging near unto the said windows and that will they be sure to have the next night following, for they customably carry with them a staff of .v. or vi foot long, in which within one inch of the tope there of is a little hole bored through in which hole they put an iron hook and with the same they will pluck unto them quickly any thing that they may reach there with, which hook in the day time they covertly carry about them, & is never seen or taken out till they come to the place where they work their feet, such have I seen at my house and have oft talked with them and have handled their staves not then understanding to what use or intent they served, although I had and perceived by there talk and behaviour great likelihood of evil suspicion in them, they will either lean upon there staff to hide the hole thereof when they talk with you, or hold their hand upon the hole and what stuff either  or linen they thus hook out they never carry the same forthwith to their stauling kens, but hides the same a iii days in some secret corner, & after conveys the same to their houses abovesaid, where their host or hosts giveth them money for the same, but half the value that it is worth, or else their doxes shall a far of sell the same at the like houses. I was credebly informed that a hoker came to a farmer's house in the dead of the night and putting back a draw window of a low chamber, the bed standing hard by the said window, in which lay iii parsons a man and two big boys, this hoker with his staff plucked of their garments which lay upon them to keep them warm with the coverlet and sheet and left them lying a sleep naked saving there shirts, and had away all clean, and never could understand where it became. I verily suppose that when they were well waked with cold they surely thought that Robin goodfelow (according to the old saying) had been with them that night.   

¶ A Roge.  
A Rogue is neither so stout or hardy as the uprightman. Many of them will go faintly, and look piteously, when they see, either meet any person, having a kercher as white as my shoes tied about their head, with a short staff in their hand, halting, although they need not, requiring alms of such as they meet, or to what house they shall come. But you may easily perceive by their colour, that they carry both health and hypocrisy about them, whereby they get gain, when others want that cannot feign and dissemble. Others there be that walk sturdily about the country, & feigneth to seek a brother or kinsman of his, dwelling within some part of the shire, either that he hath a letter to to deliver to some honest householder, dwelling out of an other Shire, and will show you the same fair sealed, with the superscription to the party he speaketh of, because you shall not think him to run idly about the country, either have they this shift, they will carry a cirtificate or passport about them from some justicer of the peace, with his hand and seal unto the same, how he hath been whipped and punished for a vagabond according to the laws of this realm, and that he must return to. T. where he was borne or last dwelled, by a certain day limited in the same, which shallbe a good long day. And all this feigned, because without fear they would wickedly wander, and will renew the same, where or when it pleaseth them: for they have of their affinity that can well write and read. These also will pick and steal as the upright men, and hath their women and meetings at places appointed, and nothing to them inferior in all kind of knavery. There be of these Rogues Curtales wearing short cloaks, that will change their apparel, as occasion serveth. And their end is either hanging, which they call trinninge in their language, or die meserably of the pocks. ¶ There was not long sithence two Rogues that always did associate themselves together and would never separate themselves unless it were for some especial causes, for they were sworn brothers, and were both of one age and much like of favour, these two traveling into east kent resorted unto an alehouse there being wearied with traveling, saluting with short curtsy when they came into the house such as they saw sitting there, in which company was the parson of the parish and calling for a pot of the best ale, sat down at the table's end, the likor liked them so well that they had pot upon pot, and sometime for a little good manner would drink & offer the cup to such as they best fancied, & to be short they sat out all the company, for each man departed home about their business. When they had well refreshed themselves, than these rowsy rogues requested the good man of the house with his wife to sit down and drink with them of whom they inquired what priest the same was & where he dwelled, than they feyninge that they had an uncle a priest, and that he should dwell in these parts, which by all presumptions it should be he, & that they came of purpose to speak with him, but because they had not seen him sithence they were six years old, they durst not be bold to take acquaintance of him until they were farther instructed of the turth, & began to inquire of his name, & how long he had dwelled there, & how far his house was of from that place they were in, the good wife of the house thinking them honest men without deceit because they so far inquired of their kinsman was but of a good zealous natural intent, showed them cheerfully that he was an honest man & well-beloved in the parish and of good wealth, & had been there resident xv years at the least, but saith she are you both brothers, yea surely said they, we have been both in one belly & were twins, mercy god ꝙ this foolish woman it may well be for ye be not much unlike and went unto her hall window calling these young men unto her and looking out thereat pointed with her fingar & showed them the house standing alone no house near the same by almost a quarter of a mile, that saith she is your uncles house, nay saith one of them he is not only my uncle but also my godfather, it may well be ꝙ she, nature will bind him to be the better unto you, well ꝙ they we be weary and mean not to trouble our uncle to night, but to morrow god willing we will see him and do our duty, but I pray you doth our uncle occupy husbandry what company hath he in his house alas saith she but one old woman & a boy, he hath no occupying at all, tush ꝙ this good wife you be mad men go to him this night for he hath better lodging for you than I have, & yet I speak foolishly against my own profit, for by your tarrying here I should gain the more by you now by my troth ꝙ one of them we thank you good hosts for your wholesome council, & we mean to do as you will us, we will pause a while and by that time it willbe almost night, and I pray you give us a reckoning, so mannerly paying for that they took bad their host & hosts farewell with taking leave of the cup, marched merely out of the doors towards this parson's house viewed the same well round about & passed by two bowshots of into a young wood where they lay consulting what they should do until midnight, ꝙ one of them of sharper wit & subtler than the other to his fellow thou seest that this house is stone walled about, and that we cannot well break in in any part thereof, thou seest also that the windows be thick of mullions that there is no krepinge in between, wherefore we must of necessity use some policy when strength will not serve, I have a horse lock here about me saith he & this I hope shall serve our turn, so when it was about xii of the clock they came to the house and lurked near unto his chamber window, the dog of the house barked a good, that with the noise this priest waketh out of his sleep & begun to cough & hem, than one of these rogue's steps forth nearer the window & maketh a rueful & pitiful noise, requiring for Christ sakes some relief that was both hungry & thirsty and was like to lie without the doors all night and starve for cold unless he were relieved by him with some small piece of money, where dwellest thou quoth this parson, alas sir saith this rogue I have small dwelling & have come out of my way, and I should now saith he go to any town now at this time of night, they would set me in the stocks and punish me, well quoth this pitiful parson, away from my house either lie in some of my our houses until the morning and hold here is a couple of pence for thee, a god reward you quoth this rogue and in heaven may you find it. The person openeth his window and thrusteth out his arm to give his alms to this Rogue that came whining to receive it, and quickly taketh hold of his hand and calleth his fellow to him which was ready at hand with the horse lock and clappeth the same about the wrist of his arm that the mullions standing so close together for strength, that for his life he could not pluck in his arm again, and made him believe unless he would at the least give them iii li. they would some of his arm from the body. So that this poor parson in far to lose his hand called up his old woman that lay in the fit over him, and willed her to take out all the money he had, which was four marks which he said was all the money in his house for he had lent vi. li. to one of his neighbours not iiji. days before well or they, master person if you have no more, upon this condition we will take of the lock that you will drink xii d. for our sakes to morrow at the alehouse where we found you and thank the good wife for the good cheer she made us, he promised faithfully that he would so do, so they took of the lock & went their way so far ere it was day, that the parson could never have any understanding more of them, now this parson sorrowfully slombering that night between fear and hope, though it was but folly to make two sorrows of one, he used contentation for his remedy, not forgetting in the morning to perform his promise but went betims to his neighbour that kept tiplinge and asked angrily where the same two men were that drank with her yester day, which two men ꝙ this good wife? the strangers that came in when I was at your house with my neighbours yesterday, what your nephews ꝙ she, my nephews ꝙ this parson I trow thou art mad, nay by god ꝙ this good wife as sober as you, for they told me faithfully that you were their uncle, but in faith are you not so in deed, for by my troth they are strangers to me, I never saw them before. O out upon them ꝙ the parson they be false thieves & this nigut they compelled me to give them all the money in my house. Benedicite ꝙ this good wife & have they so in deed as I shall answer before god one of them told me beside that you were godfather to him and that he trusted to have your blessing before he departed, what did he quoth this parson, a halter bless him for me, me thinketh by the mass by your countenance you looked so wildly when you came in quoth this good wife that some thing was amiss, I use not to geste quoth this parson when I speak so earnestly, why all your sorrows go with it quoth this good wife, and sit down here and I will fill a fresh pot of ale shall make you merry again, ye saith this parson fill in and give me some meat for they made me swear and promise them faithfully that I should drink. xii.d. with you this day, what did they quoth she now by the marry mass they be merry knaves, I warrant you they mean to buy no land with your money, but how could they come into you in the night your doors being shut fast, your house is very strong, than this parson showed her all the hole circumstance how he gave them his alms out at the wyndows, the made such lamentable cry that it pitied him at the heart, for he saw but one when he put out his hand at the window, be ruled by me quoth this good wife, wherein quoth this parson, by my truth never speak more of it, when they shall understand of it in the parish they will but laugh you to scorn.   

A Wild Rogue  
A Wild Rogue is he that is borne a Rogue, he is more subtle and more given by nature to all kind of knavery, than the other, as beastly begotten in barn or bushes, and from his infancy traded up in treachery, yea and before ripeness of years doth permit, wallowing in lewd lechery, but that is counted amongst them no sin. For this is their custom that when they meet in barn at night every one getteth a make to lie withal, & there chance to be twenty in a company, as there is sometime more, and sometime less: for to one man that goeth abroad, there are at the least two women, which never make it strange when they be called, although she never knew him before. Then when the day doth appear, he rouses him up and shakes his ears, and away wandering, where he may get ought to the hurt of others. Yet before he skyppeth out of his couch and departeth from his darling, if he like her well he will appoint her where to meet shortly after, with a warning to work warily for some chetes, that their meeting might be the merrier. Not long sithence a wild rogue chanced to meet a poor neighbour of mine who for honesty and good nature surmounted many. This poor man tiding homeward from London, where he had made his market, this rogue demanded a penny for gods sake to keep him a true man. This simple man beholding him well, & saw he was of taule parsonage with a good quarter staff in his hand, it much pitied him as he said to see him want, for he was well able to serve his prince in the wars. Thus being moved with pity, & lokt in his purse to find out a penny & in looking for the same, he plucked out. viii.ss. in white money, & raked therein to find a single penny & at the last finding one doth offer the same to this wild rogue, but he seeing so much money in this simple man's hand, being stricken to the heart with a covetous desire, bid him forthwith deliver all that he had, or else he would with his staff beat out his brains. For it was not a penny would now quench his thirst thus swallowing his spittle greedily down, spoiled this poor man of all the money that he had, & leapt over the hedge into a thick wood, and went his way as merely, as this good simple man came home sorrowfully. I once rebuking a wild rogue because he went idly about: he showed me that he was a beggar by inheritance, his Grandfather was a beggar, his father was one, & he must needs be one by good reason.   

¶ A Prygger of Prauncers.  
A Prigger of Prauncers be horse stealers, for to prigge signifieth in their language to steal, & a Prancer is a horse, so being put together the matter is plain. These go commonly in jerkins of leather or of white frieze, & carry little wands in their hands, and will walk through grounds and pasturs, to search and see horses meet for their purpose. And if they chance to be met and asked by the owners of the ground what they make there, they fain straight that they have lost their way, and desire to be instructed the best way to such a place. These will also repair to gentlemen's houses and ask their charity, and will offer their service, And if you ask them what they can do, they will say that they can keep two or three geldings, and wait upon a Gentleman. These have also their women, that walking from them in other places, mark where and what they see abroad, and showeth these Priggars thereof, when they meet, which is within a week or two. And look where they steal any thing, they convey the same at the least three score miles of or more. There was a Gentleman a very friend of mine, riding from London homeward into Kente, having within three miles of his house business, alighted of his horse, and his man also, in a pretty village, where divers houses were, and looked about him where he might have a convenient person to walk his horse, because he would speak with a Farmer, that dwelt on the back side of the said village, little above a quarter of a mile from the place where he lighted, and had his man to weight upon him, as it was meet for his calling: espying a Priggar there standing, thinking the same to dwell there, charging this pretty prigginge person to walk his horse well, and that they might not stand still for taking of cold, and at his return (which he said should not be long) he would give him a penny to drink, and so went about his business. This pelting Priggar proud of his pray, walketh his horses up and down, till he saw the Gentleman out of sight, and leaps him into the saddle, and away he goeth a main. This Gentleman returning, and finding not his horses, sent his man to the one end of the village, & he went himself unto the other end, and inquired as he went for his horses that were walked and began somewhat to suspect, because neither he nor his man could neither see nor find him. Then this Gentleman diligently inquired of three or four town dwellers there whether any such person, declaring his stature, age, apparel, with so many linamentes of his body as he could call to remembrance. And una voce all said that no such man dwelt in their street, neither in the parish that they knew of, but some did well remember that such a one they saw there lyrkinge and huggeringe two hours before the Gentleman came thither and a stranger to them. I had thought quoth this Gentleman he had here dwelled, and marched home mannerly in his boats, far from the place he dwelled not I suppose at his coming home he sent such ways as he suspected or thought meet to search for this Prigger, but hitherto he never hard any tidings again of his palfreys. I had the best gelding stolen out of my pasture that I had amongst others while this book was first a printing.   

¶ A pallyarde  
THese Palliards be called also Clapperdogens, these go with patched cloaks, & have their Morts with them, which they call wives and if he go to one house to ask his alms, his wife shall go to another, for what they get, as bread, chief, malt, and well, they sell the same for ready money, for so they get more, and if they went together, although they be this divided in the day, yet they meet iompe at night. If they chance to come to some gentylmans' house standing alone, and be demanded whether they be man and wife, & if he perceive that any doubteth thereof he showeth them a Testimonial with the ministers name and others of the same parish, naming a parish in some shear, far distant from the place where he showeth the same. This writing he carrieth to salve that sore. There be many Irish men that go about with counterfeate licenses, and if they perceive you will straightly examen them, they will immediately say they can speak no English.  
Farther, understand for troth that the worst and wickedest of all this beastly generation are scarce comparable to these prating Pallyardes, All for the most part of these will either lay to their legs an herb called Sperewort, either Arsenic, which is called Ratesbane. The nature of this Spereworte will raise a great blister in a night upon the soundest part of his body, & if the same be taken away it will dry up again and no harm. But this Arsenic will so poison the same leg or sore, that it will ever after be incurable this do they for gain and to be pitied. The most of these that walk about be walchmen.   

¶ A Frater.  
SOme of these Fraters will carry black boxes at their girdle, wherein they have a brief of the Queen's majesties letters patents given to such a poor spitlehouse for the relief of the poor ther. which brief is a copy of the letters patentes, & utterly feigned, if it be in paper or parchment without the great seal. Also if the same brief be in print, it is also of authority. For the Printers will see, & well understand before it come in press, that the same is lawful. Also I am credibly in formed, that the chief Proctors of many of these houses, that seldom travel abroad themselves, but have their factors to gather for them, which look very slenderly to the impotent & miserable creatures committed to their charge; & die for want of cherishing, whereas they & their wives are well crammed & clothed, & will have of the best. And the founders of every such house, or the chief of the parish where they be, would better see unto these Proctors, that they might do their duty, they should be well spoken of here, and in the world to come abundantly therefore rewarded. I had of late an honest man, and of good wealth, repaired to my house to common with me about certain affairs. I invited the same to dinner, and dinner being done, I demanded of him some news of those parties were boe diddest. Thanks be to God sir (saith be) all is well & good now. Now (quoth I) this same now declareth that some things of late hath not been well. Yes sir (qd. he) matter is not great, I had thought I should have been well beaten within this seventh night. How so (quoth I) Marry sir said he, I am Constable for fault of a better, and was commanded by the justicer to watch. The watch being set, I took an honest man one of my neighbours with me, and went up to the end of the town as far as the spittle house, at which house I heard a great noise, & drawing near stood close under the wall, and this was at one of the clock after midnight. Where he hard swearing, prating, and wagers laying, and the pot apace walking, and xl d. gauged upon a match of wrestling, pitching of the bar, and casting of the sledge. And not they go in a fustian fume into the back side, where was a great Axiltrye, and they fell to pitching of the bar, being iii to three The Moon did shine bright, the Constable with his neighbour might see and behold all that was done. And how the wife of the house was roasting of a Pig, while her gests were in their match. At the last they could not agree upon a cast, and fell at words, and from words to blows. The Constable with his fellow runs unto them to part them, and in the parting lyrkes a dry blow or two. Then the noise increased, the Constable would have had them to to the stocks. The wife of the house runs out with her good man to entreat the Constable for her gests, and leaves the Pig at the fire alone. In cometh tow or three of the next neighbours, being waked with this noise, and into the house they come, and find none therein, but the pig well roasted, and carrieth the same away with them spit and all, with such bread and drink also as stood upon the table. When the good man and the good wife of the house had entreated and pacified the Constable, showing unto him that they were Proctors and Factors all of Spyttlehouses, and that they tarried there but to break their fast, and would ride away immediately after, for they had far to go, and therefore meant to ride so early. And coming into their house again, finding the pig with bread and drink all gone, made a great exclamation, for they knew not who had the same.  
The Constable returning and hearing the lamentable words of the good wife, how she had lost both meat, and drink, and saw it was so in deed, he laughed in his sleeve, and commanded her to dress no more at unlawful hours for any gests. For he thought better bestowed upon those smell feasts his poor neighbours, then upon such sturdy Lubbars. The next morning betimes the spit and pots were set at the Spittle house door for the owner? Thus were these factors beguiled of their breakfast, and one of them had well beaten an other, and by my troth (quoth this Constable) I was glad when I was well rid of them. Why quoth I, could they cast the bar and sledge well? I will tell you sir (quoth he) you know there hath been many games this Summer, I think verily that if some of these Lubbars had been there, and practised amongst others, I believe they would have carried away the best games. For they were so strong and sturdy, that I was not able to stand in their hands. Well (quoth I) at these games you speak of, both legs and arms be tried. Yea (quoth this office they be wicked men. I have seen some of them sithence with clouts bound about their legs, and halting with their staff in their hands. Wherefore some of them (by GOD be nought all.   

¶ A Abraham man.  
THese Abraham men be those that fain themselves to have been mad, and have been kept either in Bedleant, or in some other prison a good time, and not one amongst twenty that ever came in prison for any such cause: yet will they say how piteously & most extremely they have been beaten & dealt withal. Some of these be merry & very pleasant, they will dance & sing, some others be as cold and reasonable to talk with all. These beg money, either when they come at farmers houses they will demand Baken, either cheese, or wool, or any thing that is worth money. And if they espy small company within they will with fierce countenance demand somewhat. Where for fear the maids will give them largely to be rid of them.  
If they may conveniently come by any cheat, they will pick and steal, as the upright man or Rogue, poultry or linen. And all women that wander, be at their commandments. Of all that ever I saw of this kind, one naming himself straddling, is the craftiest and most dissemblingest Knave. He is able with his tongue and usage to deceive and abuse the wisest man that is. And surely for the proportion of his body, with every member there unto appertaining, it cannot be amended. But as the proverb is (God hath done his part.) This Straddling saith he was the Lord Sturtons' man, and when he was executed, for very pensiveness of mind he fell out of his wit, and so continued a year after and more, and that with the very grief and fear he was taken with a marvelous palsy, that both head and hands will shake, when he talketh with any, and that apace or fast, whereby he is much pitied, and getteth greatly. And if I had not demanded of others both men and women, that commonly walketh as he doth, and known by them his deep dissimylation, I never had understand the same. And thus I end with these kind of vagabonds.   

☞ A Fresh Water Mariner or Whipiacke.  
THese Fresh water Mariners their ships were drowned in the plain of Salisbury. These kind of Caterpillars counterfeit great losses on the sea, those be some Western men, and most be irish men. These will run about the country with a counterfeit licence, feigning either shipwreck, or spoiled by Pirates near the coast of Cornwall or Devenshire and set a land at some haven town there, having a large & formal writing, as is above said with the names & seals of such men of worship at the least iiii. or five as dwelleth near or next to the place where thee fain their landing. And near to those shires will they not beg, until they come into Wiltshire, Hamshire, Berkshire, Oxfordshire, Harfordshire, Middelsexe, and so to London, and down by the river to seek for their ship and goods that they never had, then pass they through Surrey, Sossex, by the sea costs, and sort into Kent, demanding alms to bring them home to their country.  
Some time they counterfeit the seal of the Admiralty. I have divers times taken away from them their licences of both sorts, with such money as they have gathered, and have confiscated the same to the poverty nigh adjoining to me. And they will not beelong without another. For at any good town they will renew the same. Once with much threatening and fair promises I required to know of one company who made their licence. And they swear that they bought the same at Portsmouth of a Mariner there and it cost him two shilinges, with such warrants to be so good & effectual, that if any of the best men of law or learned about London should peruse the same, they wear able to find no fault therewith but would assuredly allow the same.   

¶ A counterfeit Cranke.  
THese that do counterfeit the Cranke be young knaves and young harlots, that deeply dissemble the falling sickness. For the Cranke in their language is the falling evil, I have seen some of these with fair writings testimonial, with the names and seals of some men of worship in Shropshiere, and in other Shires far of, that I have well known, and have taken the same from them. Many of these do go without writings, and will go half naked, and look most piteously. And if any clothes be given them, they immediately sell the same, for wear it they will not, because they would be the more pitied, and wear filthy clothes on their heads, & never go without a piece of white soap about them, which if they see cause or present gain, they will privily convey the same into their mouth, and so work the same there, that they will foam as it were a Boor, & marvelously for a time torment themselves, and thus deceive they the common people, & gain much. These have commonly their harlots as the other.  
upon Alhollenday in the morning last. Anno domini. 1566. or my my book was half printed I mean the first impression there came early in the morning a Counterfeit Cranke under my lodging at the white Fryares within the cloister in a little yard or coorte where abowtes lay two or three great Ladies being without the liberties of London whereby he hoped for the greater gain, this Cranke there lamentably lamenting and pytefully crying to be relieved declared to divers there his painful and miserable disease I b●ynge risen and not half ready hard his doleful words and rueful mornings hearing him name the falling sickness thought assuredly to myself that he was a deep desembelar, so coming out at a sudden and beholding his ugly & irksome attire his loath some & horrible countenance it made me in a marvelous parplexite what to think of him whether it were feigned or troth, for after this manner went he, he was naked from the waste upward saving he had a old gyrken of leather patched and that was lose about him that all his body lay ●●ote bare a filthy fowl cloth he ware on his head being cut for the purpose having a narrow place to put out his face with a baver made to truss up his beard and a string that tied the same down close about his neke with an old felt hat which he still carried in his hand to receive the charity & devotion of the people for that would he hold out from him having his face from the eyes downward all smerde with fresh blood as though he had new fallen and been tormented with his painful pangs his gyrken being all be rayed with dirt and mire and his hat and hosen also as though he had wallowed in the mire, sewrely the sight was monstrous and terrible, I called him unto me & demanded of him what he ailed. A good master quoth he I have the grievous and painful diseases called the falling sickness why quoth I how cometh thy gyrken hose & hat so be raid with dirt and mire & thy skin also. A good master I fell down on the backside here in the fowl lane hard by the waterside and there I lay all most all night and have bled all most all the blood owte in my body, it reigned that morning very fast and while I was thus talking with him a honest poor woman that dwelled thereby brought him a fair linen cloth and bed him wipe his face therewith and there being a tobbe standing full of rain water offered to give him some in a dish that he might make himself clean he refused the same why dost thou so quoth I, a sir saith he if I should wash myself I should fall to bleeding a fresh again and then I should not stop myself, these words made me the more to suspect him.  
Then I asked of him where he was borne what is name was how long he had this disease & what time he had been here about London & in what place, sir saith he I was borne at Leycestar my name is Nicholas Gennins and I have had this falling sickness viii years and I can get no remedy for the same for I have it by kind my father had it and my friends before me, and I have been these two years here about London, and a year and a half in bethelen, why wast thou out of thy wits quoth I? ye sir that I was.  
what is the Kepars' name of the house, his name is quoth he john Smith, than quoth I he must understand of thy disease if thou haddest the same for the time thou wast there, he knoweth it well, ye not only he but all the house beesyde quoth this Cranke for I came thence but within this fortnight, I had stand so long reasoning the matter with him that I was a could and went in to my chamber and made me ready, and commanded my servant to repair to bethelem and bring me true word from the keeper there whether any such man hath been with him as a prisoner having the disease aforesaid and give him a not of his name and the keepers also, my servant returning to my lodging did assure me that neither was there ever any such man there neither yet any keeper of any such name, but he that was there keeper he sent me his name in writing affirming that he letteth no man departed from him unless he be set away by his friends and that none that came from him beggeth about the City than I sent for the Printar of this book, and showed him of this dyssembling Cranke and how I had sent to Bethelem to understand the trough and what answer I received again requiring him that I might have some servant of his to watch him faithfully that day that I might understand trustily to what place he would repair at night unto, & thither I promised to go myself to see their order and that I would have him to associate me thither, he gladly granted to my request and sent two boys that both diligently and vigelantly accomplished the charge given them and found the same Crank about the Temple where about the most part of the day he begged unless it were about xii. of the clock he went on the backside of Clementes. In without Temple bar there is a lane that goeth into the Fields there he renewed his face again with fresh blood which he carried about him in a bladder and daubed on fresh dirt upon his gerken hat and hosen.  
And so came back again unto the Temple and sometime to the Watersyde and begged of all that passed high, the boys beeheld how some gave groats, some six pens, some gave more for he looked so ouglei● and yrksomlie that every one pytied his miserable case that beehelde him, to be short there he passed all the day till night approached, and when it began to be somewhat dark he went to the waterside and took a Scholar and was fet over the Water into Saint George's fields, contrary to my expectation, for I had thought he would have gone in to Holborn or to Saint Gylles in the field but these boys with (Argues and Lynxes) eyes set sewer watch upon him and the one took a Boat and followed him and the other went back to tell his master.  
The Boy that so followed him by Water, had no Monney to pay for his Boat hire, but laid his Penner and his Ynkhorne to gauge for a penny, and by that time the boy was set over, his Master with all celeryte had taken a Boat and followed him apace, now had they still a sight of the Cranke which crossed over the fields towards Newyngton and thither he went and by that time they came thither it was very dark, the pryntar had there no acquaintance neither any kind of weapon about him neither knew he how far the Cranke would go, because he then suspected that they dogged him of purpose, he there stayed him and called for the Constable which camforth diligently to inquire what the matter was this zealous Printar charged this officer with him as a malefactor and a dessembeling vagabond, the Constable would have laid him all night in the Cage that stood in the street, nay saith this pitiful printer I pray you have him into your house for this is like to be a cold night and he is naked you keep a vytelling house let him be well cherished this night for he is well able to pay for the same, I know well his gains hath been great to day, and your house is a sufficient prison for the time & we will there search him, the Constable agreed there unto, they had him in, and caused him to wash himself that done they demanded what money he had about him, saith this Cranke so God help me I have but xii. pens. and plucked out the same of a little purse, why have you no more quoth they, no saith this Cranke as God shall save my soul at the day of judgement, we must see more quoth they and beegane to stripe him, than he plucked out another purse wherein was xl. d. Toushe saith this printer I must see more, Saith this Cranke I pray God I be dampened both body and soul if I have any more, no saith this printer thou false knave here is my boy that did watch thee all this day and saw when such men gave the peeses of six pens groats and other money and yet thou hast showed us none but small money, when this Cranke hard this and the boy vowing it to his face he relented, and plucked out another purse wherein was eight shillings and odd money so hade they in the hole that he had begged that day xiii. s. iii d. ob. than they strypt him stark naked and as many as saw him said they never saw hansommer man with a yellow flexen heed and fair sknned without any spot or grief than the good wife of the house fet her man's old clock and caused the same to be cast about him beecawse the sight should not abash her shamefast maidens neither loath her squamyshe sight.  
Thus he set him down at the Chemnes end and called for a pot of Beer and drank of a quart at a draft, and called for another and so the third, that one had been sufficient for any reasonable man, the Drink was so strong I myself the next morning tasted thereof but let the reader judge what and how much he would have drunk and he had been out of fear then when they had thus wrong water out of a flint, in spoiling him of his evil gotten goods his passing pence and fleeting trash. The printer with this officer were in gealy gelowsy, and devised to search a barn for some rogues and upright men, a quarter of a mile from the house that stood alone in the fields, & went out about their business leaving this crank alone with his wife & maidens, this crafty Cranke espying all gone, requested the good wife that he might go out on the backside to make water and to exonerate his paunch, she had him draw the lach of the door and go out, neither thinking or mistrusting he would have gone away naked, but to conclude, when he was out he cast away the cloak and as naked as ever he was borne he ran away that he would never be hard of again till now the next morning betimes I went unto Newington to understand what was done, because I had word or it was day that there my printer was, and at my coming thither I hard the hole circumstance as I above have written, & I seeing the matter so fall out, took order with the chief of the parish that this xiii s. and iii d. ob. might the next day be equally distributed by their good discretions to the poverty of the same parish, & so it was done.   

A Dommerar.  
THese Dommerars are lewd and most subtle people, the most part of these are Walch men, and will never speak, unless they have extreme punishment, but will gape, and with a marvelous force will hold down their tongues doubled, groninge for your charity, and holding up their hands full piteously, so that with their deep dissimulation they get very much. There are of these many, and but one that I understand of hath lost his tongue in deed. Having on a time occasion to ride to Dartford to speak with a priest there, who maketh all kind of conserves very well, and useth stilling of waters. And repairing to his house I found a Dommerar at his door, and the priest himself perusing of his licence, under the seals and hands of certain worshipful men, which priest had thought the same to be good and effectual. I taking the same writing, and reading it over & noting the seals found one of the seals like unto a seal that I had about me, which seal I bought besides Charing cross, that I was out of doubt it was none of those gentlemen's seals that had subscribed. And having understanding before of their peevish practices, made me to conceive that all was forged and nought. I made the more hast home, For well I wist that he would & must of force pass through the parish where I dwelled, for there was no other way for him. And coming homeward, I found them in the town according to my expectation, where they were stayed: for there was a Pallyarde asociat with the Dommerar and partaker of his gains, which Pallyarde I saw not at Dartforde. The stairs of them was a gentleman call- Chain, & asaruant of my Lord Keepers, called Wostestowe, which was the chief causer of the staing of them, being a Surgien, & cunning in his science, had seen the like practices, and as he said had caused one to speak afore that was dumb. It was my chance to come at the beginning of the matter. Sir (quoth this Surgeon) I am bold here to utter some part of my cunning, I trust (quoth he) you shall see a miracle wrought anon. For I once (quoth he) made a dumb man to speak. Quoth I you are well met, and somewhat you have prevented me, for I had thought to have done no less or they had passed this town. For I well know their writing is feigned, and they deep dissemblers. The Surgien made him gape, & we could see but half a tongue. I required the Surgien to put his finger in his mouth, & to pull out his tongue, and so he did, notwithstanding he held strongly a pretty while, at the length he plucked out the same, to the great admiration of many that stood by. Yet when we saw his tongue, he would neither speak, nor yet could hear Quoth I to the Surgien, knit two of his syngers together, and thrust a stick between them, and rub the same up and down a little while, and for my life he speaketh by and by. Sir quoth this Surgien I pray you let me practise an other way. I was well contented to see the same. He had him into a house, and tied a halter about the wrists of his hands and hoist him up over a beam, and there did let him hang a good while. at the length for very pain, he required for God's sake to let him down. So he that was both deaf and dumb could in short time both hear and speak. Then I took that money I could find in his purse, and distributed the same to the poor people dwelling there, which was xv. pence half penny, being all that we could find. That done, & this merry miracle madly made, I sent them with my servant to the next justicer, where they preached on the Pyllery for want of a Pulpit, and were well whipped, and none did bewail them.   

¶ A drunken Tinckar.  
THese drunken Tynckers called also Prygges, be beastly people, & these young knaves be the worst. These never go without their Doors, and if their women have any thing about them, as apparel or linen that is worth the selling, they lay the same to gauge, or sell it out right (for been bows at their bousing ken.) And full soon will they be weary of them, and have a new. When they happen one work at any good house, their Doors linger a loaf, & tarry for them in some corner, and if he tarrieth long from her, than she knoweth he hath work, & walketh near, and sitteth down by him. For besides money he looketh for meat and drink for doing his dame pleasure. For if she have three or four holes in a pan, he will make as many more for speedy gain. And if he see any old ketel, chaffer, or pewterdish a broad in the yard where he worketh, he quickly snappeth the same up, and into the booget it goeth round. Thus they live with decrite. I was credibly informed by such as could well tell, that one of these tippling Tinkers with his dog rob by the high way four Pallyardes, and two Rogues uj persons together, and took from them above four pound in ready money, & hide him after in a thick wood a day or two, and so escaped untaken. Thus with picking and stealing, mingled with a little work for a colour, they pass their tyme.   

¶ A Swadder or peddler  
THese Swadders & peddlers, be not all evil, but of an indifferent behaviour. These stand in great awe of the upright men, for they have often both wares & money of them. But for as much as they seek gain unlawfully against the laws and statutes of this noble realm, they are well worthy to be registered among that number of vacabonds, & undoubtedly I have had some of them brought before me when I was in commission of the peace as malefactors for brybering & stealing. And now of late it is a great practs of the upright man, when he hath gotten a booty to bestow the same upon a pack full of wares, & so goeth a time for his pleasure because he would live with out suspicion.   

¶ A jarkeman, And a Patrico.  
FOras much as these two names a jarkeman and a Patrico be in the old brief of vacabonds, and setforth as two kinds of evil doers, you shall understand that a jarkmane hath his name of a jarke, which is a seal in their Languag, as one should make writings and set seals for licences and pasportes.  
And for troth there is none that goeth about the country of them that can either write so good and fair a hand, either indite so learnedly as I have seen and handled a number of them: but have the same made in good towns where they come, as what can not be had for money, as the proverb saith (Omnia venalia Rome) and many hath confessed the same to me. Now also there is a Patrico and not a Patriarch, which in their language is a priest that should make marriages till death did depart, but they have none such I am well assured, for I put you out of doubt that not one amongst a hundredth of them are married, for they take lechery for no sin, but natural fellowship and good lyiknge love, so that I will not blot my book with these two that be not.   

¶ A demander for glymmar.  
THese Demaunderes for glymmar be for the most part women, for glymmar in their language is fire: these go with feign licences and counterfeited writings, having the hands and seals of such gentlemen as dwelleth near to the place where they feign themselves to have been burnt and their goods consumed with fire. They will most lamentably demand your charity, & will quickly shed salt tears, they be so tender hearted. They will never beg in that Shire where their losses (as they say) was. Some of these go with slates at their backs, which is a sheet to lie in a nights. The upright men be very familiar with these kind of women, and one of them helps an other. ¶ A demander for glymmar came unto a good town in Kent to ask the charity of the people, having a feigned lycens about her that declared her misfortune by fire, done in Somerset shire, walking with a wallet on her shoulders wherein she put the devotion of such as had no money to give, here that is to say, Malt, will, baken, bread, and cheese, and always as the same was full, so was it ready money to her when she emptied the same, where so ever she traveled this harlot was as they term it snout fair and had an Upright man or two always attending on her watch (which is on her parson) and yet so circomspecte that they would never be seen in her company in any good town unless it were in small villages where typling houses wear, either traveling together by the high ways, but the troth is by report she would weakly be worth vi. or seven shillings, with her begging and bycherye. This glimmering Morte repairing to an Ine in the said town, where dwelled a widow of thirty winter old of good wealth but she had an unthrifty son, whom she used as a chamberlain to attend gests when they repard to her house, this amorous man beholding with ardant eyes, beholding this glymmeringe glauncer was presently peteously pierced to the heart, and lewdly longed to be clothed under her livery and bestowing a few fond words, with her, understood straight, that she would be easily persuaded to liking lechery, and as a man mased mused how to attain to his purpose, but he had no money. Yet considering with himself that wares would be welcome where money wanted, he went with a wannion to his mother's chamber & there seeking about for odd ends, at length found a little whistle of silver that his mother did use customably to wear on, and had forgot the same for haste that morning, and offeres the same closely to this mannerly marian that if she would meet him on the backside of the town and courteously kiss him without constraint she should be mistress thereof and it wear much better, well saith she you are a wanton, and beholding the wystell was farthar in love therewith, then ravysht with his person and agreed to meet him presently and to accomplish his fond fancy, to be short and not tedious a quorter of a mile from the town he merely took measure of her under a bawdy bush (so she gave him that she had not) and he received that he could not) and taking leave of each other with a courteous kiss, she pleasantly passed forth one her iornaye & this untoward liquorous chamberlain repaired home ward. But or these two tortylles took there leave the good wife had missed her whistle, and sent one of her maidens in to her chamber for the same, and being long sawght for none could be found, her mistress hearing that diligent search was made for the fame, and that it was taken away, began to suspect her unblessed babe, and demanded of her maidens whether none of them saw her son in her chamber that morning, and one of them answered that she saw him not there but coming from thence, then had she enough for well she wist that he had the same, and sent for him but he could not be found. Then she caused her hosteler in whom she had better affiance in for his troth and yet not one amongst twenty of them but have well left there honesty (As I here a great sort say) to come unto here which attended to know her pleafure, go seek out saith she my untoward son and bid him come speak with me, I saw him go out saith he half an our sithence on the backsid I had thought you had sent him of your arrant, I sent him not ꝙ she go look him out. This hollow hosteler took his staff in his neck and trodged out apace that way he saw him before go and had some understanding by one of the maidens that his mistress had her wystell stolen and suspected her son, and he had not gone far but that he espied him coming homeward alone, and meeting him axed where he had been. Where have I been ꝙ he and began to smile, now by the mass thou hast been at some bawdy banquet, thou hast even told troth ꝙ this chamberlain sewrely ꝙ this ostler thou haedest the same woman that begged at our house to day for the harms she had by fire, where is she ꝙ he she is almost a mile by this time ꝙ this chamberlain, where is my mistress whistle quoth this hosteler for I am well assured that thou hadst it and I fear me thou hast given it to that harlot. Why is it missed quoth this chamberlain, yea ꝙ this hosteler and showed him all the hole circomstaunce what was both said and thought on him for the thing. Well I will tell the ꝙ this Chamberlain I will be plain with the I had it in deed and have given the same to this woman, and I pray the make the best of it and help now to excuse the matter, and yet surely and thou wouldst take so much pain for me as to over take her for she goeth but softly and is not yet far of and take the same from her and I am ever thine assured friend. Why then go with me quoth this ostler, nay in faith quoth this Chamberlain what is frear then gift, and I had pretty pastime for the same, haddest thou so quoth this hosteler now by the mass and I will have some to or I will lie in the dust or I come again. Passing with haste to overtake this paramour within a mile from the place where he departed he overtook her having an upright man in her company a strong and a sturdy vagabond some what amazed was this hosteler to see one familiarly in her company for he had well hopped to have had some delicate dalliance as his fellow had but seeing the matter so fall out and being of good courage and thinking to himself that one true man was better than two false knaves and being on the high way thought upon help if need had been by such as had passed to and fro. Demanded fiercely the whistle that she had even now of his fellow, why husband quoth she can you suffer this wretch to slander your wife, a vaunt varlet ꝙ this upright man and letes drive with all his force at this hosteler and after half a dozen blows he strycks his staff out of his hand, and as this hosteler stepped back to have taken up his staff again, this glymmeringe Morte flings a great stone at him and struck him on the head that down he falls with the blood about his ears and while he lay this amazed the upright man snatches away his purse, wherein he had money of his mistresses as well as of his own, and there let him lie and went away with speed that they were never hard of more. When this dry beaten hosteler was come to himself he faintly wandereth home, and crepethe into his couch and rests his idle head, his mystries hard that he was come in, and laid him down on his bead, repaired strait unto him and ask him what he ailed and what the cause was of his so sodden lying one his bed, what is the cause quoth this hosteler your whistle your whistle speaking the same piteously three or iiii. times, why fool quoth his mistress take no care for that, for I do not greatly way it, it was worth but iii. s. iiii. d. I would it had been burnt for iiii. years agone, I pray the why so quoth his mistress I think thou art mad, nay not yet qd. this hosteler but I have been madly handled, why what is the matter quoth his mistress and was more desirous to know the cause, and you will for give my fellow and me I will show you, or else I will never do it, she made him presently faithful promise that she would, then saith he send for your son home again which is ashamed to look you in the face I agree there to saith she, well than qd. this hosteler your son hath given the same Mort that begged here for the burning of her house a whistle and you have given her v. s. in money, & I have given her x, s, of my own, why how so quoth she, than he sadly showed her of his mishap with all the circomstaunce that you have hard before, and how his purse was taken away & xv shillings in the same, whereof v. s. was her money and x. s. his own money is this true quoth his mistress, I by my troth qd. this hosteler, and nothing grieves me so much, neither my beating neither the loss of my money as doth my evil and wretched luck, why what is the matter qd. his mistress, your son saith this hosteler had some cheer and pastime for that whistle for he lay with her, and I have been well beaten, and have had my purse taken from me and you know your son is merry and pleasant and can keep no great council and then shall I be mocked and laughed to scorn in all places when they shall here how I have been served, Now out upon you knaves both quoth his mistress, and laughs out the matter, for she well saw it would not otherwise prevail.   

¶ A bawdy basket.  
THese bawdy baskets be also women, and go with baskets & Capcases on their arms, wherein they have laces, pins, needles, white ynkell, and round silk gyrdls of all colours. These will buy conveyskins, & steel linen clothes of on hedges. And for their trifles they will procure of maiden servants, when their mistress or dame is out of the way, either some good piece of beef, baken, or cheese, that shallbe worth xii. d. for two. d. of their toys. And as they walk by the way, they often gain some money with their instrument, by such as they suddenly meet withal. The upright men have good acquaintance with these, and will help and relieve them when they want. Thus they trade their lives in lewd loathsome lechery. Amongst them all is but one honest woman, and she is of good years, her name is jone Messenger, I have had good proof of her. as I have learned by the true report of divers, Three came to my gate the last summer. Anno Domni. 1566. a very miserable man and much deformed as burnt in the face blere eyed and lame of one of his legs that he went with a crouch, I axed him where he was borne & where he dwelled last and showed him that thither he must repair and be relieved & not to range about the country, and seeing some cause of charity I caused him to have meat and drink and when he had drunk I demanded of him whether he was never spoiled of the upright man or Rogue, yes that I have qd be and not this seven. years for so long I have gone abroad, I had not so much taken from me and so evil handled as I was within these iiii. days, why how so ꝙ I in good faith sir ꝙ he I chanced to meet with on of thief bawdy baskets which had an upright man in her company, & as I would have passed quietly by her, man saith she unto her make, do you not see this ill-favoured windshaken knave, yes qd. the upright man what say you to him, this knave faith she oweth me two. s, for wares that he had of me half a year a go I think it well saith this upright man sirrah saith he pay your detes, saith this poor man I own her none neither did I ever bargain with her for any thing and as this advised I never saw her before in all my life, mercy god quoth she what a lying knave is this, and he will not pay you husband beat him surely, and the upright man gave me three or iiii. blows on my back and shoulders and would have beat me worse and I had not given him all the money in my purse & in good faith for very fear I was fain to give him xiiii. pence which was all the money that I had, why saith this bawdy basket hast thou no more, than thou owest me x. d. still, and be well assured that I will be paid the next time I meet with the. And so they let me pass by them. I pray god save & bless me and all other in my case from such wicked persons quoth this poor man, why whether went they then quoth I in to east Kent for I meet with them on thyssid of Rochester. I have divers times been attempted but I never lost much before, I thank god there came still company by afore this unhappy time. Well quoth I thank God of all, and repair home into thy native country.   

¶ A Antem morte.  
THese Antem Mortes be married women, as there be but a few. For Antem in their Language is a Church, so she is a wife married at the Church, and they be as chaste as a Cow. I have the goeth to Bull every moon, with what Bull she careth not. These walk most times from their husband's company a month & more together, being asociate with another as honest as herself. These will pylfar clothes of hedges, some of them go with children of ten or xii. years of age, if time and place serve for their purpose they will send them into some house at the window to steal and rob, which they call in their language, Milling of the ken, & will go with wallets on their shoulders, and slates at their backs: there is one of these Antem Mortes she is now a widow, of thirty years old, her name is Alice Milson, she goeth about with a couple of great boys, the youngest of them is fast upon xx. years of age and these two do lie with her every night, and she lieth in the mids, she saith that they be her children, that beteled be the babes borne of such abhonable belly.   

¶ A walking Morte.  
THese walking Mortes be not married, these for their unhappy years doth go as a Antem Morte, and will say their husbands died either at Newhaven Ireland, or in some service of the Prince. These make laces upon staves & purses that they carry in their hands, and white vallance for beds. Many of these hath had, and have children: when these get aught, either with begging bichery or bribery, as money or apparel, they are quickly shaken out of all by the upright men, that they are in a marvelous fear to carry any thing about them that is of some valour. Wherefore this policy they use, they leave their money now with on and then with another trusty householders either with the good man or good wife, some time in won shire, and then in another as they travel, this have I known the iiij. or v. shillings yea ten shillings left in a place and the same will they come for again within won quarter of a year or some time not inhalfe a year, and all this is to little purpose, for all their peevish policy, for when they buy them linen or garments, it is taken away from them and worse given them, or none at all. ¶ The last Summer Anno Domni. 1566. being in familiar talk with a walking Morte, that came to my gate I learned by her what I could and I thought I had gathered as much for my purpose as I desired. I began to rebuke her for her lewd life and beastly behaviour, declaring to here what punishment was prepared and heaped up for her in the world to come, for her filthy living and wretched conversation. God help ꝙ she how should I live, none will take me into servis, but I labour in harvest time honestly. I think but a while with honesty quoth I Shall I tell you ꝙ she, the best of us all may be amended, but yet I thank God, I did on good deed within this twelve months wherein ꝙ I, saith she I would not have it spoken of again. If it be meet and necessary ꝙ I it shall lie under my feet, what mean you by that quoth she, I mean ꝙ I to hide the same & never to discover it to any. Well quoth she and began to lawgh as much as she could, and swear by the mass that if I disclosed the same to any she would never more tell me any thing. The last summer ꝙ she I was great with child and I traveled into east kent by the sea cost, for I lusted marvelously after oysters and mussels and gathered many, and in the place where I found them, I opened them and eat them still, at the last in seeking more I reached after one and stepped into a hole and felin into the waist and their did stick, and I had been drowned if the tide had come, and espying a man a good way of, I cried as much as I could for help, I was alone he heard me and repaired as fast to me as he might and finding me their fast stycking, I required for god's sake his help, and whether it was with striving and forcing myself out or for joy I had of his coming to me. I had a great colour in my face and looked red and well tollered. And to be plain with you he liked me so well (as he said) that I should there lie still, and I would not grant him, that he mightily with me. And by my troth I witted not what to answer I was in such a perplexite, for I knew the man well, he had a very honest woman to his wife and was of some wealth and on the other side if I wear not help out I should there have perished, and I granted him that I would obey to his will, than he plucked me out. And because there was no convenient place near hand, I required him that I might go wash myself and make me some what cleanly, and I would come to his house and lodge all night in his barn, whether he might repair to me and accomplish his desire, but let it not be quoth she before nine of the clock at night for then there will be small stirring. And I may repair to the town ꝙ she to warm and dry myself, for this was about two of the clock in the after noun do so quoth he for I must be busy to look out my cattle here by before I can come home. So I went away from him and glad was I, and why so quoth I, because quoth she his wife my good dame is my very friend, and I am much beholding to her. And she hath done are so much good or this that I we are loath now to harm her any way●, to by quoth I what and it had been any ●ther man and not your good dames husband. The matter had been the less quoth she. Tell me I pray the quoth I who was the father of thy child she studied a while, and said that it had a father but what was he quoth I. Now by my truth I know not quoth she, you bring me ou● of my matter so you do, well say on quoth I then I departed straight to the town and came to my dames house. And showed here of my misfortune, also of here husebandes' usage in all points and that I showed here the same for good will and bide her take better heed to her husband, and to herself, so she gave me grate thanks and made me good cheer, and bid me in any case that I shouldde be ready at the barn at that time and our we had appointed, for I know well quoth this good wife, my husband will not break with the. And one thing I warrant the that thou give me a watch word a loud when he goeth about to have his pleasure of the and that should be fie for shame fie, and I will be hard by you with help. But I charge the keep this secret until all be fynesed, and hold saith this good wife here is one of my petticoats I give the. I thank you good dame qu●●h I, and I warrant you I will be ●●ue and trusty unto you. So my dau●e left me setting by a good fire with meat and drink, and with the oysters I brought with me, I had great the ere she went straight and repaired unto her gossips dwelling there by, and as I did after understand she made her moan to them. what a naughty lend lecherous husband she had, and how that she could not have his company for harlots, and that she was in fear to take some filthy disease of him, he was so comen a man having little respect whom he had to do with all, and quoth she now here is one at my house a poor woman that goeth about the country that he would have had to do withal wherefore good neighbours and loving gossips as you love me and as you would have help at my hand another time, devise some remedy to make my husband a good man, that I may live in sum surety with out disease, and that he may save his soul that God so dearly bought. After she had told her tale they cast their persinge eyes all upon her, but won stout dame amongst the rest had these words as your patient bearing of troubles, your honest behaviour among us, your neighbours your tender and pitiful heart to the poor of the parish, doth move us to lament your case, so the unsatiable carnality of your faythelesse husband doth instigate and stir us to devise and invent some speedy redress for your ease and the amendment of his life. Wherefore this is my council and you will be advertised by me, for I say to you all, unless it be this good wife, who is chiefly touched in this matter I have the next cause, for he was in hand with me not long a go, and company had not been present which was by a marvelous chance, he had I think forced me. For often he hath been tempering with me, and yet have I sharply said him nay, therefore let us assemble secretly into the place where he hath appointed to meet this gyllot that is at your house and lyrke privily in seem corner till he begin to go about his business. And then me thought I hard you say even now that you had a watch word, at which word we will all step forth being five of us besides you for you shallbe none because it is your husband, but get you to bed at your accustomed our. And we will carry each of us a good byrchen rod in our laps, and we will all be muffled for knowing and see that you go home and acquaint that walking Morte with the matter for we must have her help to hold, for always four must hold & two lay one. Alas saith this good wife, he is to strong for you all, I would be loath for my sake you should receive harm at his hand fear you not ꝙ these stout women let her not give that watch word until his hosen be about his legs. And I trow we all will be with him to bring before he shall have leisure to pluck them up again they all which on voice agreed to the matter that the way she had devised was the best, so this good wife repaired home but before she departed from her gossyps she showed them at what our they should privily come in on the backsyd & where to tarry their good our, so by that time she came in it was all most night,  
and found the walking Morte still setting by the fire, and declared to her all this new devise above said, which promised faithfully to fulfil to her small power as much as they had devised, with in a quarter of an hour after in cometh the good man, who said that he was about his cattle, why what have we here wife setting by the fire, & if she have eat and drunk send her into the barn to her lodging for this night, for she troubeleth the house, even as you will husband saith his wife you know she cometh once in two years into these quarters. Away saith this good wife to your lodging, yes good dame saith she as fast as I can, thus by looking won on the other each knew others mind and so departed, to her comely couch, the good man of the house shrodge him for joy thinking to himself I will make some pastime with you anon. And calling to his wife for his sopper set him down and was very pleasant and drank to his wife & fell to his mamerings and mouched a pace nothing understanding of the banquet that was a preparing for him after sopper, & according to the proverb. (Swear meat will have sour sauce) thus when he was well refreshed, his sprietes being revived entered into familiar talk with his wife, of many matters how well he had spent that day to both there proffytes, saying some of his cattle that were like to have been drowned in the deches driving others of his neighbours cattle out that were in his pastures, & mending his fences that were broken down. Thus profitably he had consumed the day, nothing talking of his helping out of the walking Morte out of the mire, neither of his request nor yet of her promiss. Thus feeding her which friendly santycyes consumed two ours and more. Then feigning how he would see in what case his horse were in and how they were dressed. Repaired covetly in to the barn, where as his freendely foes lyrked privily unless it were this mannerly Morte, that comely couched on a bottle of straw, what are you come ꝙ she by the mass I would not for a hundredth pound that my dame should know that you were here either any else of your house. No I warrant the saith this good man they be all safe and fast enough at their work, and I will be at mine anon. And lay down by her, and straight would have had to do with her, nay lie saith she I like not this order if ye lie with me you shall surely untrus you & put down your hosen for that way is most easiest and best, sayest thou so quoth he now by my troth agreed. And when he had untrussed himself and put down he began to assault the unsalable fort, why quoth she that was with out shame saving for here promise. And are you not ashamed, never a whit saith he lie down quickly, now fie for shame, fie saith she a loud which was the watch word. At the which word, these fine furious sturdy muffled gossips flings out, and takes sure hold of this betrayed parson, soon plucking his hosen down lower, and binding the same fast about his feet, then binding his hands, and knitting a hand charcher about his eyes, that he should not see, and when they had made him sure and fast. Then they laid him one until they wear windles, be good saith this Morte unto my master for the pastion of god and laid on as fast as the rest, and still seized not to cry upon them to be merciful unto him, and yet laid on a pace, and when they had well beaten him that the blood burst plentifully out in most places they let him lie still bound. With this exortation, that he should from that time forth know his wife from other men's and that this punishment was but a flebyting in respect of the which should follow, if he amended not his manners. Thus leaving him blustering blowing and foaming for pain and malyncolye that he neither might or could be revenged of them, they vanished away and had this Morte with them, and safely conveyed her out of the town, soon after cometh into the barn one of the good man's boys to set some hay for his horse. And finding his master lying fast bound and grievously beaten with rades, was suddenly abashed and would have run out again to have called for help, but his master bed him come unto him and unbynd him. and make no words quoth he of this. I will be revenged well enough, yet not withstanding after better advise, the mattor being unhonest; he thought it meeter to let the same pas, and not as the proverb saith (to awake the sleeping dog.) And by my troth quoth this walking Morte, I come now from that place and was never there sithence this part was played, which is some what more than a year. And I here a very good report of him, now that he loveth his wife well and useth himself very honestly and was not this a good act, now how say you. It was prettily handled quoth I and is here all yea quoth she here is the end.   

¶ A Doxe.  
THese Doxes be broken and spoiled of their maidenhead, by the upright men, and then they have their name of Doxes, and not afore And afterward she is comen and indifferent for any that will use her as homo is a comen name to all men. Such as be fair and some what handsome, keep company with the walking Mortes, and are ready always for the upright men, and are chiefly maintained by them, for others shallbe spoiled for their sakes, the other in ferior sort will resort to noble men's places, and gentlemen's houses standing at the gate, either lurking on the backside about backehouses either in hedge rows or some other thicket, expecting their pray, which is for the uncomely company of some courteous ge●t of whom they be refreshed with meat and some money, where exchange is made ware for ware: this bread and meat they use to carry in their great hosen, so that these beastly bryberinge breeches serve many times for bawdy purposes. I chanced not long sithence familiarly to comen with a Doxe that came to my gate, and surely a pleasant harlot, and not so pleasant as witty, and not so witty as void of all grace and goodness. I found by here talk that she had passed her time lewdly eyghttene years in walking about. I thought this a necessary instrument to attain some knowledge by, and before I would grope her mind I made her both to eat and drink well, that done I made her faithful promise to give her some money if she would open and discover to me such questions as I would demand of her, and never to be wray her neither to disclose her name. And you should saith she I were undone: fear not that quoth I, but I pray the quoth I, say nothing but troth. I will not saith she, than first tell me quoth I, how many upright men and Rogues dost thou know or hast thou known and been conversant with and what their names be: she paused a while and said: why do you ask me, or wherefore? For nothing else as I said; but that I would know them when they came to my gate. Now by my troth (quoth she (than are yea never the near, for all mine acquaintance for the most part are dead. Dead quoth I, how died they, for want of cherishing, or of painful diseases. Then she sighed; and said they were hanged. What all quoth I, and so many walk abroad, as I daily see? By my troth quoth she, I know not passed six or seven by their names, and named the same to me. When were they hanged quoth I? Some seven years agone, some three years, and some with in this fortnight, and declared the place where they wear executed, which I knew well to be true, by the report of others. Why (quoth I) did not this sorrowful and fearful sight much grieve thee, and for thy time long and evil spent. I was sorry quoth she, by the Mass, for some of them were good loving men. For I lacked not when they had it, and they wanted not when I had it, and divers of them I never did for sake, until the Gallows departed us. O merciful God (quoth I and began to bless me. Why bless ye quoth she? Alas good gentleman every one must have a living. Other matters I talked of, but this now may suffice to show the Reader as it wear in a glass, the bold beastly life of these Doors. For such as hath gone any time abroad, will never forsake their trade, to die therefore, I have had good proof thereof. There is one a notorious harlot of this affinity called Bess Bottomelye, she hath but one hand, and she hath murdered two children at the least.   

¶ A Dell.  
A Dell is a young wencheable for generation, and not yet known or broken by the upright man. These go abroad young, either by the death of their parents, and no body to look unto them, or else by some sharp mistress that they serve do run away out of service, either she is naturally borne one, and then she is a wild Dell, these are broken very young, when they have been lain withal by the upright man, than they be Doxes, & no Dels. These wild Dels being traded up with their monstrous motheres, must of ne●essyty be as evil or worse than their parents, for neither we gather grapes from green briars, neither figs from thistles. But such buds, such blossoms, such evil seed sown, well worse being grown.   

¶ A Kynchin Morte.  
A Kynchyn Morte is a little Girl, the Mortes their mothers carries them at their backs in their states, which is their sheets, and brings them up safely, till they grow to be ripe, and soon ripe, soon rotten.   

¶ A Kynchen Co.  
A Kynchen Co is a young boy, traden up to such peevish purposes, as you have hard of other young imps before, that when he groweth two years, he is better to hang then to draw forth.   

¶ Their usage in the night.  
NOw I think it not unnecessary to make the Reader undrstamn how & in what manner they lodge a nights in barns or backehouses, & of their usage there, for as much as I have acquainted them with their order & practices a day times. The arch & chief walkers that hath walked a long time, whose experience is great because of their continuing practice, I mean all Morts & Doors for their handsomeness and diligence for making of their couches. The men never trouble themselves with the thing, but takes the same to be the duty of the wife. And she shuffels up a quantity of straw or hay in to some pretty corner of the barn where she may conveniently lie, & well shaketh the same, making the head some what hie, and drives the same upon the sides and feet like a bed, than she layeth her wallet, or some other little pack of rags or scrip under her head in the straw to bear up the same, and layeth her petticoat or cloak upon and over the straw so made like a bed, & that serveth for the blanket. Then she layeth her state which is her sheet upon that, & she have no sheet, as few of them go without, than she spreadeth some large clouts or rags over the same, and maketh her ready, and layeth her drouselye down. Many will pluck of their smocks, and lay the same upon them in stead of their upper sheet, and all her other pelte and trash upon her also, and many lieth in their smocks. And if the rest of her clothes in cold weather be not sufficient to keep her warm, than she taketh straw or hay to perform the matter. The other sort that have not slates, but tumble down and couch a hogshead in their clothes, and these be still lousy and shall never be with out vermin, unless, they put of their clothes, and lie as is above said. If the upright man come in where they lie, he hath his choice, and creepeth in close by his Door, the Rogue hath his leavings. If the Mortes or Doxes lie or be lodged in some Farmer's barn, and the door be etherlocked or made fast to them, then will not the upright man press to come in. Unless it be in barns and out houses, standing alone, or some distance from houses which be commonly known to them. As saint Quintens, three Cranes of the Vyntre, Saint Tybbes, and Knapsbery, These four be with in on mile compass near unto London. Then have you iiii. more in Middlesex, draw the pudding out of the fire, in Harrow on the hill parish. the Cross keys in Cranford parish, Saint julyans in Thistellworth parish, the house of pity, in North hall parish. These are their chief houses near about London, where commonly they resort unto for Lodging, and may repair thither freely at all times. Sometime shall come in some Rogue, some pyeking knave, anymble Prygge, he walketh in softly a nights, when they be at their rest and plucketh of as many garments as be aught worth that he may come by, and worth money, and may easily carry the same, and runneth away with the same with great felicity, and maketh port sale at some convenient place of theirs, that some soon ready in the morning, for want of their Casters and Togemans Where in steed of blessing is cursing, in place of prainge pestilent prayting with odious oaths & terrible threatenings. The upright men have given all these nycke names to the places above said. It have we two notable places in Kent, not fare from London, the one is between Detforde and Rothered, called the kings barn, standing alone, that they haunt commonly the other is Ketbrok, standing by black heath half a mile from any house. There will they boldly draw the latch of the door, and go in when the good man with his family be at supper & sit down without leave and eat and drink with them, & etherly in the hall by the fire all night, or in the barn if there be no room in the house for them. If the door be either bolted or locked, if it be not opened unto them when they will, they will break the same open to his farther cost. And in this barn sometime do lie xl upright men with their Doxes together at one time. And this must the poor Farmer suffer, or else they threaten him to burn him, & all that he hath.   

¶ The names of the Upright men Rogues, & Palliardes.  
HEre followeth the unruly rabblement of rascals, and the most notorious and wyckedst walkers that are living now at this present with then true names as they he called and known by. And although I set and place her but three orders, yet good Reader understand that all the others above named are derived and come out from the upright men and Rogues. Concerning the number of Morets and Dotes, it is superfluous to write of them, I could well have done it but the number of them is great, and would ask a good volume.  

¶ Upright men.  
Richard Brymmysh  
john Myllar.  
Well arrayed Richard.  
john Walchman.  
Thomas Bulloke.  
john jones.  
John Teddar.  
Richard justice.  
Lennard Just.  
Robart Gravenar.  
William Chamborne  
Bryan Medcalfe.  
Robart Gerse.  
Gryffen.  
Core the Cuckold.  
Robart King.  
Nycholas Wylson.  
Burfet.  
james Barnard.  
Stephen Nevet.  
Richard Barton.  
john Bray.  
Thomas Cutter.  
Dowzabell skilful in fence.  
Robart Egerton.  
Thomas Garret.  
david Coke.  
Harrye Hills alias harry go depar.  
john Cutter  
Folentyne Hills his brother.  
William Pannell.  
William Morgan.  
john Bell.  
Robart Bell his brother.  
Philip Greek.  
john Steuens.  
Robart Maple.  
William Belson.  
john Gray●.  
Roba●● Lang●●●.  
Ge●●●e ●●r●mar.  
Wyliam ●●●●s.  
john Why●●.  
Thomas ●ewton.  
William Garret.  
Long Green.  
Fardinand● Angel  
William Robynson.  
William Vmb●ruile.  
john rue.  
Thomas W●b.  
William David's.  
john M●rres.  
john a Farnando.  
Antony Heymer.  
Laurence lad.  
Dick Glover.  
Antony jackson.  
Richard Constans.  
Will pen  
Little john Grace.  
Robin Bell.  
Thomas Grayhis toes begun.  
Robbyn top  
john Newman.  
William jones.  
Great john Grace.  
Dick a Brystow.  
Tom Bodele.  
Richard Thomas.  
Will powel.  
Christopher Cook.  
Edmund Dun a singing man.  
Laurence Martial.  
Richars' Cadman.  
Edward Skinner, 〈◊〉 N●● Shiner  
〈…〉  
〈…〉  
William Clark●  
Water Wyrrall.  
Ned Barington.  
john Appconnes.  
john Thomas.  
john Arter.  
john Palmer alias Todd.  
john Goffren.  
Thomas Wast.  
Thomas Dawso alias. Thomas ●acklin.  
john G●d●ord.  
john Herwod amaker of wells, he 〈◊〉 half his bargain in hand, & when he hath wrought two. or three days he runneth away with his earnest.  
john Peter.  
john Porter.  
Richard Stategood.  
john Appowes.  
Harry Agglyntyne.  
john Goddard.  
Edward Browne.  
Richard Appryce.  
Harry Smith, he driveleth when he speaketh.  
Thomas Baset.  
john Bates.  
Thomas Merchant.  
Thomas Web.  
john Comes.  
john Chyls, alias great Chylas.  
john 〈◊〉 he maketh 〈◊〉 and fausets.  
john Loudale a master of fence.  
Robart Brownswerde, he weatenhe his hear songs.  
William Browne.  
john Love dale.  
Harry jonson.  
Water Martin.  
Antony jacson.  
Robart Curses.  
Thomas Awefeld.  
john Mekes.  
john Appowell.  
Thomas Gybbins.  
Richard Walker.  
William Grace.  
john Chapel.  
john Gryffen.  
Robbyn edmund's.  
Thomas Lacon  
Richard Copar.  
john Mason.  
Ned Wetherdon.  
Ned Holmes.  
David Edward's.  
William Pychering.  
Thomas Bate.  
john S●●●ling with the shaking head.  
john Franke.  
Thomas Allen.  
john ●●ker.  
David Holland.  
john Basta●●d.  
George Hu●cheson.  
David jones  
France's Dawghion.   

¶ Rogues.  
Harry Walls with the little mouth.  
john Waren.  
Richard Brewton.  
Thomas Haske.  
Richard Horwo●, well pexe lxxx. years old, he will byre a vi. penny nail a sunder with his teeth, and a dawdy drunkard.  
William Carew.  
john Donne with one leg.  
john Elson.  
Thomas Bear.  
Nicholas adam's a great s●amerar.  
Arch Dowglas a Scot  
Simon King.  
john Raynoldes.  
Thomas Shawnean Iresh man.  
Black Dick  
George Belbar●y.  
Humphrey Warde.  
little Robin.  
little Dick.  
john harry.  
james Monkaster a counterfeit Crank,  
Nicholas Crispyn.  
Edward Eellys.  
William wastfield.  
Dick Duram.  
Richard Crane ●●rieth a Kinchen co at his Back.  
Nycholas Blut, alias.  
Nycholas Gennyns a counterfeit Crank Wylson.  
Godman.  
john Dew.  
john Crew with one arm.  
Nycholas Lynche.  
Raffe Kyteley.  
Richard jones.  
Lambart Rose.  
Harry Mason.  
Thomas Smithe with the skal skin.  
David Dew never a counterfeit Cranke.  
john Browne a great stamerer.  
Edward Anseley.  
Robart Harryson.  
Gerard Gybbyn a counterfeit Crank  
William Gynkes with a whyr beard a lusty and strong man, he runneth about the country to seek work, with a big boy his son carrying his tools as a dauber and plasterer, but little work serveth him.   

¶ Pallyards.  
Nycholas Newson carrieth a layned lyrence.  
Bashforde.  
Robart Lackley.  
William Thomas  
Edward Heyward, hath his Morte following him Which feigneth the crank Preston.  
Robart Canloke.  
William C●oper with the Harelyp.  
Thomas Edward's.  
Laurence with the great leg.  
john pierce a counterfeit Cranke.  
Richard Hylton carrieth two. kinchen Mortes about him.  
Dick S●han. Irish.  
john David's his fellow.  
Will Penyt ●e●reath a kinchen-morte at his back.  
Richard Thomas.  
john Harrison.  
Edward jews a dummerer.  
john Carew.  
William Bowmet  
james Lane with one eye Irish.  
Hugh jones.  
David powel.  
Sothegarde.  
john fisher.  
Nycholas Decase.  
Thomas David's Swanders.  
john Dew.  
David jones a counterfyt Cranke.  
john gilford Irish with a counterfeit lysence.   
¶ Their is above an hundredth of Irish men and women that wander about to beg for their living, that hath come over within these two years. They lay they have been burned and spoiled by the Earele of Desmond, and report well of the Earl of Vrmond.  
¶ All these above written for the most part walk about Essex, Myddleser, Sussex Surrey, and Rent. Then let the reader judge, what number walks in other Shires, ●eare me to great a number, if they be well understand.   

HEre I set before thee good Reader, the lewd lousey language of these lewtering Luskes, and lazy Lorrels, where with they buy and fell the common people as they pass through the country. Which language they term Peddelars French, Turrian unknown tongue only, but to these bold beastly bawdy Beggars, and vain vagabonds, being half mingled with english, when it is familiarly talked, and first plaring things by their proper names, as an Introduction to this peevish speech.  

Nab. a head.  
Nabchet. a hat or cap.  
Glasyers'. eyes.  
a smeling chete a nose.  
'gan. a mouth.  
a prattling chete. a tongue.  
Crashinge chetes. teeth.  
Hearing chetes. ears.  
fambles. hands.  
a famblinge chete. a ring on thy hand.  
quaromes. a body  
prat a buttock.  
stamps legs.  
a caster a cloak.  
a togeman a cota.  
a commission a shierte  
drawers hosen.  
stampers shoes.  
a moflinge chete. a napkin.  
a belly chete an apern.  
dudes clothes.  
a lag of duds a buck of clothes  
a slate or slats a sheet or sheets  
lybbege a bed.  
bung a purse.  
lower money.  
mint gold.  
a board a shyllinge.  
half a board six pence.  
flag a great,  
a win a penny.  
a make a halfpenny,  
bows drink.  
been good  
benshyp very good.  
quiet nouhgt.  
a gage a quart pot,  
a skew a cup.  
pannam bread.  
cassan cheese.  
yarum milk.  
lap butter, milk, or whey.  
pek meat.  
poppelars' porridge.  
ruff pek haken.  
a grunting chet or apatrices' kichen, a pig.  
a caklingchet a cock or capon,  
a margerye prayer. a Hen.  
a Roger or tib of the buttery a Goose  
a quaking chet or a red shank a drake or duck  
grannam. corn.  
a lowhing chet a Cow.  
a bleting chet a calf or sheep  
a prancer a horse.  
antem a church.  
Solomon a altar or mass.  
patrico a priest.  
nosegent a Nun.  
a gibe a writing.  
a Tarke a seal.  
a ken a house.  
a stauling ken a house that will receive stolen ware  
a bousing ken a ale house.  
a Lypken. a house to lie in  
a Lybbege. a bed,  
glymmar, fire.  
Rome bouse wine  
lage. lage. water  
a skyppar. a barn.  
strommell. straw.  
a gentry cofes ken. A noble or gentle man's house.  
a gygger, a door.  
bufe. a dog  
the lightmen the day.  
the darkmans, the night.  
Rome vile London.  
dews a vile the country.  
roam morte the Qeune,  
a gentry cofe a noble or gentle man.  
a gentry mort A noble or gentle woman,  
the choir custyn that justicer of peace  
the harman beck the Counstable,  
the harmanes the stocks,  
Quyerken a prison house,  
Quire cramprings. bolts or fetters  
trining hanging  
chattels the gallows  
the high pad. the high way  
the ruffmanes. the woods or bushes  
a smelling chet a garden or orchard  
crassinge chets apels pears or any other fruit.  
to fyltche to beat  
to strike to rob.  
to nyp a bong. to cut a purse  
To skowere the cramprings. to wear bolts or fetters.  
to have abough. to rob or rifle a boewethe.  
to cly the gerke to be whipped  
to cut bevy. to speak gently  
To cut been whyddes to speak or gave good words  
To cut choir whyddes. to give evil words or evil language.  
to cut. to say.  
to tower. to see  
to bowese. to drink.  
to mand. to ask or require  
to stall. to make or ordain  
to cante to speak.  
to will a ken to rob a house.  
to pryggs. to ride.  
to dup the giger to open the door  
to couch a hogshead. to lie down sleep  
to nyggle to have to do with a woman carnally.  
stow you, a hold your peace.  
b'ing a waste go you hence,  
to the ruffian. to the devil  
the ruffian clythe. the devil take thee    

¶ The upright Cafe canteth to the Roger  
The upright man spaketh to the Rogue  man.. 
Bene Lyghtmen to thy quarromes in what lipken hast thou lipped in this dark manes; whether in a lybbege or in the strummell.  God morrow to thy body, in what house hast thou live in all night whether in a bed, or in the straw. Roge. 
I couched a hogeshed in a Skypper this darkemans.  I lay me down to sleep in a barn this night. man.. 
I tower the strummell tryne upon thy nabcher & Tagman I see the straw hang upon thy cap and coat  Roge. 
I say by the Solomon I will lage it of with a gage of been house then out to my nose watch.  I swear by the Mast I will wash it of with a quart of drink, then say to me what thou wilt, man.. 
Why hast thou any lower in thy bonge to house.  Why hast thou any money in thy purfe to drink. Roge. 
But a fiagge, a win and a make But a grot, a penny and a half penny.  man.. 
Why where is the keen that hath the been house.  where is the house that hath the good drink. Roge. 
A bene mort hereby at the sign of the prancer A good wife here by at the sign of the horse,  man.. 
I cut it is choir boufe I bousd a flag the last darkemans.  I say it is small and naughty drink, I drank a groat there the last night. Roge. 
But bouse there a board & thou shalt have beneship But drink there a shyllinge, and thou shalt have very good.  
Tower ye yonder is the keen dup the gygger and maund that is beneshype.  See you, yonder is she house open the door, and ask for the best. man.. 
This house is as benshyp as rome bouse.  This drink is as good as wine. 
Now I to were that been bouse makes nase nabes, Now I so that good drink makes a drunken head.  
Man tide of this all dry what been peck is in hearken.  Ask of this wife what good meat she hath in her house, Roge. 
She hath a Cacling chete, a grunting chete, ruff peck, cassan, and popplarr of yarum.  She hath a hen a pig, baken, cheese, and milk porridge. man.. 
That is beneshyp to our watch.  That is very good for us. 
Now we have well bousd, let us strike some chete Now we have well drunk let us steal some thing. yonder dwelleth a quyere custen it were beneshype to mill him.  Yonder dwelleth a hoggeshe and choprlyshe man it wear very well done to rob him. Roge. 
Now bring we a waste to the high pad the ruffmanes is by, Nays let us go hence to the high way the woods is at hand.  man.. 
So may we happen on the Harmanes and cly the jarke or to the quyecken and scour quyart tramprings and so to tryning on the chates.  So we may chance to set in the stocks either be whipped either had to prison house and there be shackled with bolttes and fetters and then to hang on the gallows. 
Gerry 'gan the ruffian clye thee.  A torde in thy mouth the devil take thee. man.. 
What stowe you been cofe and cut benar whydds and b'ing we to rome vile to nyp a bong so shall we have lower for the bousing ken and when we b'ing back to the deuseavyel we will fylche some duds of the Ruffemen or mill the ken for a lag of dudes.  What hold your peace good fellow and speak better words, and go we to London to cut a purse, then shall we have money for the ale house, and when we come back again into the country, we will steal some linen clothes of one hedges, or rob some house for a buck of clothes. 
¶ By this little ye may holy and fully understand their untoward talk and pelting speech mingled & without measure, and as they have begun of late to devise some new terms for certien things: so will they 〈◊〉 an alter this and devise as evil or worse. This language now being known and spread a broad, yet one thing more I will add unto, not meaning to English the same, because I learned the same of a shameless Doxe, but for the phrase of speech I set it forth only.  There was a proud patrico and a nosegent, he took his jockam in his famble, and a wappinge he went, he dokte the Dell, he pryge to prance, he byngd a waste into the dark man's, he fylcht the Cofe with out any filth man.  

While this second Impression was in printing it fortuned that Nycholas Blunt, who called himself Nycholas Gennyns a counterefet Cranke, that is spoken of in this book, was found begging in the white friars an Newyeres day last past Anno domini. 1567. and committed unto a offescer who carried him unto the depetye of the ward which committed him unto the counter & as the counstable and another would have carried him thither. This counterfeit Cranke ran away, but one lighter of foot then the other over took him, & so leading him to the counter, where he remained three days, & from thence to Bride well, where before the masters he had his disguised apparel put upon him, which was monstrous to be hold. And after stood in cheapside with the same apparil on a scafold   


A Stocks to stay sure, and safely detain,  
Lazy lewd Leutterers, that laws do offend,  
Impudent persons, thus punished with pain,  
Hardly for all this, do mean to amend.   
 depiction of two men each with a leg in stocks  

Fetters or shackles serve to make fast,  
Male malefactors, that on mischief do muse,  
Until the learned laws do quite or do cast,  
Such subtle searchers, as all evil do use.   
 depiction of a pair of fetters or handcuffs and a pair of shackles  

A whip is a whyskar, that will wrest out blood,  
Of back and of body, beaten right well.  
Of all the other it doth the most good.  
Experience teacheth, and they can well tell.   
 depiction of two whips or flails and two birch-brooms  

¶ O doleful day, now death draweth near,  
His bitter sting doth pierce me to the heart,  
I take my leave of all that be here,  
Now piteously playing this tragical part,  
Neither stripes nor teachings in time could convert,  
wherefore an ensample let me to you be,  
And all that be present, now pray you for me,   
 depiction of a man bound at the wrists being led to a gallows past a group of people   

THis is the figure of the counterfeit Clerk, that is spoken of in this book of Rogues, called Nycholas Blunt other wise Nycholas Gennyngs. His tale is in the xvii. leaf of this book, which doth show unto all that reads it, wondrous subtle and crafty deseit down of & by him.  
 depiction of a man or Nicholas Blunt or Jennings with his head imprisoned in the Counter or Compter stocks, guarded by two men armed with sticks and a third armed man nearby   

Thus I conclude my bold Beggar's book,  
That all estates most plainly may see,  
As in a glass well pollyshed to look,  
Their double demeanour in each degree.  
Their lives their language, their names as they be,  
That with this warning their minds may be warmed,  
To amend their mysdeedes, and so live unharmed.  
 depiction of the Madonna and Child or Mary and Jesus in a circular frame with roses and other flowers   

¶ Imprinted at London in Fleetstreet at the sign of the Falcon by William gryffith. Anno Domni. 1567. the eight of january.