A Health to the Gentlemanly profession of Servingmen: or, The Servingman's Comfort: With other things not impertinent to the Premises, as well pleasant as profitable to the courteous Reader.  Felix qui socij navim perijsse procellis cum vidit, in tutum flectit sua carbasa portum. 
Imprinted at London by W. W. 1598.   

The Epistle to the gentle Reader, of what estate or calling soever.  
GEntle Reader, whether adorned with the royal Robes of true Nobility, or appareled with the gorgeous Garments of Gentility, pardon I pray, these my unpolished lines: unrip not, I beseech you, the mistaken stitches of this botcherit, neither censure severely the unsavoury taste of this Loaf, being Primogeniti, the first batch of my baking: But if you find any thing herein contained displeasing your humours, say with the Doctor in Cambridge, What, was it I he meant? No, he named not me, he spoke it not by me, he knoweth me not; How should he then be private to any of my doings? No no I am none of these miserable Masters that so inhumanly burieth in oblivion unrewarded the long, good, and dutiful service of my old Servant: But if you be such as either thus, or otherwise abuseth those good creatures that God hath lent you, I mean these earthly commanders, Gold and Silver: Let these my caviats work some remorse of conscience, and play not the gauled Horse that kicketh and winseth, his sore being once touched, to burst out into ungentlemanlike terms against the Author, being with his work displeased. For assure yourselves, and before God I protest, I speak not against one in particular, neither against all in general, upon a malapert or presumptuous mind, as not caring who are offended with my doings; but careful lest I should offend any, or incur their displeasures, by my presumptuous enterprise, I humbly (as before) pray pardon. Think not Gentlemen, that whereas I speak any thing of masters hard usage of their Servants, or of any ancient familiarity betwixt them, that thereby I would give any encouragement to the Servant to be negligent in his duty, or by malapert sauciness to abuse that reverence that he oweth unto his Master: for God is my record, be it far from me, that I should once dream of so inhuman and seditious a practice: For I protest for my own part, if I should serve the meanest Carman that whistleth after his Horse, and be bound by his wages to call him Master, I would not scorn to do him any reverence and duty that by my place and calling were to be required at my hands. Therefore gentle Gentlemen, since courtesy is always the companion of true Gentility, courteously I pray you consider of me and my doings. And now Reader, if you by degree deserve the name of a Yeoman, submissively without haughtiness of heart I pray your patience in perusing this my first practice, for I hold your calling no less commendable, and your profession no less pertinent to the supporting of this human society, then them of higher dignity and degree: For, What is the Prince without the Plough? or the Potentate without the Pasture? Doth not the one afford them Corn, the other Kine, with all other provision for their bodily sustenance? Since therefore gentle Reader, if Yeoman you be one, that I shall happily have somewhat to say to in this following Treatise, I pray (as before) your patience, that if you find any thing therein amiss, either in unmannerly terms, or otherwise, that you would pass it over with silence, and impute it to ignorance, and not to be done of any malicious or set purpose; or else to say with yourselves, In aliena republica ne sis curiosus, It is not good to scaled one's lips in other men's Pottage. Since he speaketh neither by me, of me, nor against me, nor any thing that consernes me, why should I spurn against his speeches, or hate him for his harsh harmony? Let them that are galled kick, and them that are wounded seek remedy: But if you be such as your guilty conscience persuades you, that what as is spoken, is meant by you, for it is an old saying Concius ipse sibi, de se putat omnia dici, the guilty conscience thinks what as is said, is always spoken himself to upbraid: Then worthily weigh and consider whether you be justly accused, and complained of or no; and if you find yourself to have offended in such and such things, and that what hath been said of you, you have worthily deserved; then be content to bite the lip, wink at small faults, and mend that is amiss: for if you manifest your malice in any opprobrious speeches against the Author of this work, than you shall pronounce a definitive sentence of condemnation against yourself, as worthy to have deserved all, and more, than herein is contained. For be it known unto you, and all other of higher or inferior degree, that I have not touched any of the better sort, neither any that are men well meriting for their minds and manners; but such as are mates of no merit, and as have condingly deserved more than I can say against them: but if any of what estate or degree so ever, shall murmur against me, I will say unto him as Christ said to the men that brought the woman taken in adultery before him to be stoned to death, He that hath not offended, let him throw the first stone: So, he that will acknowledge himself touched herewith, let him cast the first stone, let him the first seek remedy and revenge: but before he seek revenge, it were good he knew who had wronged him. And if he think I have wronged him by speaking any thing against him, then let him come to me and know whether I meant it by him or no, and I will not only resolve him of that doubt, but also pacify his impatient humour. Therefore gentle Reader, I expect a pardon of course, if I have offended by ignorance; which I undoubtedly persuade myself to receive at your hands, and so I leave you to your labours: which I pray God may yield you a plentiful increase. Now courteous surveyor of these barren Lands, nay barren and mosse-begrowen lines, if thou be'st my fellow in fraternity a Servingman, to thee I address my petition, if you be a Gentleman borne, and a Servingman by profession, if in reading this my Book, you shall happily stumble on any unsavoury sentence that may mislike your taste, pocket I pray you this injury, as I may term it, since (God is my witness) I mean you no harm, but rather pray for your preferment, and wish your welfare, then by any means to seek your indignity, or disgrace. And if gentle Reader, thou be a Yeoman's son, that hath with the complete Armour of four Marks and a Lyverie, entered the lists to play the prizes of a Servingman, shall in this my Book find a lump too much leavened, that a weak and queasy stomach can hardly digest, I pray thee persuade thyself, that it is better to have a frown of a friend, than a smile of a flattering and deceitful enemy: and whatsoever I have spoken of thee, or concerning thee, is rather of goodwill, to forewarn thee of an imminent danger, then to beat thee with the dry blows of intolerable ignominy. Wherefore gentle Reader, whatsoever thou be, I earnestly entreat thee, to reverse that hard sentence of Hatred in lieu of my labour, and rather smother thy discontent with the ashes of silence (if any such thou find in reading this Treatise) then to wreak thy malice with the hot coals of inquenchable fury; which will sooner consume they self, then prevail against thy mistaken enemy. Thus having (as I hope) satisfied my curious enemies, I am to crave the goodwill of my courteous friends; desiring you (gentle Reader) to accept in good part these my labours: which if they shall like you, I shall account my gain great; if not, yet must I needs count my loss but light, in that the doing of it kept me from idleness, a thing so dangerous to a young man, as it is convenient he should seek with as much industry to avoid the same, as the skilful Mariners with vigilant eyes do labour to pass without peril the dangerous Rocks of Scylla and Charybdis: And so wishing to thee as to myself, I commit thee to God.  I. M.  

A HEALTH TO THE GENTLEMANLY PROFESSION OF SERVING-MEN.  
IN this Burse, or Exchange of human affairs, which consisteth (as it were) altogether in Merchandise, bargaining, buying & selling, it is very meet and necessary that there should be men of all manners, conditions, and callings: as the Princes or potentates, Dukes, Earls, Barons, Knights, Esquires, Gentlemen, Yeomen, Husbandmen, Taylor, Tanner, and Tinker, Cowper, Carter and Cobbler, with men of all other estates, degrees, and professions, summoned upon for fayture of .10. l. in Issues to appear, with money or ware always ready, to maintain this Mundane market. If then without every of these professions, there can be no well governed Common wealth: (For if all men should be Kings, then cunning Cobblers should lose their craft: if, all Cobblers, Prince's sovereignty would quickly surcease:) How then cometh it to pass that so many Heresies are crept into one Religion, so many diseases into one body, and so many aspiring minds into this Commonwealth of England? For the Cobbler would be a Shoemaker, the Shoemaker a Tanner, the Tanner a Grazier: so that no man resteth contented with his vocation. But me thinks I hear one cry unto me, Ho sir john lacklattin, you are out of the text, your tongue trots so upon Tanners, Tailors, & Tinkers, that I fear me you will either lose your way amongst these cobbling Carters, or else run yourself out of breath: which if you do, your promise to your profession willbe slenderly performed, and our expectations frustrate, so that we shallbe forced to say with the Fable in Esope, Perturiunt Montes paritur ridiculus Must, His promise is golden Hills, but his performance dirty Dales: Suitor ne ultra Crepitam: the pot is full, therefore youth, drink a health to the Gentlemanly profession of Servingmen, and return to your purpose. Servingmen (says my gaffer Thomsons eldest son) as they are nameless in this former Catalogue; so I hold them needless in any well governed Common wealth. Russet coat I tell thee, if thou canst hold the Plough no better than thou canst hold this argument, I hold thy thorough thrift scarce able to provide liquor for thy throat: But as thou by profession, art not the meanest member in this united body, if thou consider thy calling accordingly, without aspiring higher, or manifesting thy malice by scalding thy lips in other men's Pottage: So I leave thee to thy labour; wishing thee in thy profession no less prosperity, than health and happiness to myself. But since this whole text is too tedious for my travel, unwilling to undertake the cutting out of a Garment, before I can heel a Hose; I will first implore my endeavour to thread the needle, to entreat of one of ●●ese members, and leave the body for a ●●tter workman: in which member more matter consisteth, then qui mihi Du●●nis is able to comprehend: But Cum de●●unt vires ●●min est laudanda voluntas, As the poor must mix Beans and Pease with their Breadcor●●e this dear year, for Wheat and Rye is too highly rated, unless it be knavery, which seldom or never misseth a plentiful year in what ground soever it be sown: So must I yield you a Loaf of course Cockle, having no acquaintance with Coin to buy Corn, which though it may be hard of digestion, yet I hope it will not be much unwholesome.  
This Loaf is the profession of Servingmen, not course for the calling, but in respect of the workman, whose short time in his trade, hath gained him so small experience, as he can hardly as yet fashion a loaf of fine Cocket: but fine or course, such as it is, you must either eat or starve, for any bread of my baking. This Loaf (as I said before) this state and profession of Servingmen, is the only mark whereat I aim: whose original, and to what end it was ordained, I mean first to declare. Secondly, how flourishing was the prime of this profession. And thirdly, the ruin and decay of this ancient building. In the first creation of Adam and Eve, there needed no Superiority, nor members for this body, being altogether planted and seated in all happiness and perfectness of Nature: but the offence committed, and the forfeiture enrolled, that Man for his transgression Should eat the Labours of his hands by the Sweat of his brows, and that the command, Increase and Multiply, was strictly by the law of Nature observed: Tract of time yielded so plentiful an increase, as it grew very needful that this body should be drawn into several members, to avoid a ca●●es of confusion, and frame an artificial building. For even as a Log of wood unwrought, yields neither profit nor pleasure, but being sawn, hewn, and squared, serves for many several uses; for that which will not be a Bed, willbe a Board, a Table, or Truss, so that every piece having his proportion, will execute his office: Even so this consort of Companions, not knowing severally the parts of their profession, rests very troublesome one to another: for all desiring to be Heads, than the body must needs fall for want of Eyes to direct him; and if all Eyes, than it must needs perish for want of a mouth to feed him: But being divided into members, every one using his office, and resting contented with his estate, the body remains in perfect health & happiness. Now in the knitting of these joints together, every officer according to his aptness was appointed. First the King as head, for his magnanimity: then others adorned with the titles of Nobility and gentry, their minds no less meriting: And lastly, the Commonalty at the command of these merciful Magistrates. These Princes and Potentates thus seated in the solace of their sovereignty, thought it very meet and necessary, to choose and ordain one sort of Servants for their profit and pleasure (over and beside their servile sots, as Dick to droyle, Ralph to run, Kit the Cater, with other Gouldsmythes of their occupation:) which sort of Servants were known from the rest by the names of Servingmen. Now being come to their names, it is necessary to know of what metal these ministers were moulded, and what sort of people were thought fittest for this frame, considering the end for which they were ordained. First they were chosen men of wit, discretion, government, and good bringing up, considering their Sovereigns, Lords, and Masters serious business, weighty affairs, and worldly wealth, was for the most part committed to their custody and care: Whose vigilant eye, willing mind, and faithful forecast diligently to discharge that duty, was thought so necessary, as choice they were of them they admitted to this calling.  
Secondly, men of v●●loure and courage, not fearing to fight in the maintenance of their masters credit, in his just quarrel, against his foreign foe, if occasion were offered: and also, if any Country's causes called him abroad, to guard and defend him against Newmarket heaths commissioners, or any consories of their craft.  
Thirdly, men of strength, & activity, to be excellent in shooting, running, leaping, dancing, pitching the Bar, throwing the Hammer, or other feats of like faculty, wherewith Potentates in times past were highly pleased.  
Fourthly, men fine, neat, and nimble, in regard of their nearness about their Master, his apparel and cates: for the Clown, the Sloven, and Tom althummes, are as far unfit for this profession, as Tarlton's toys for Paul, Pulpit: betwixt which, though I make a comparison, yet to the place I reserve a reverend regard.  
Fiftly and lastly, men of quality to be seen in haulking, hunting, fishing and fowling, with all such like Gentlemanly pastimes: All which being required in a Servingman, and naturally belonging to a Gentleman: Amongst what sort of people should then this Servingman be sought for? Even the Duke's son preferred Page to the Prince, the Earls second son attendant upon the Duke, the Knights second son the Earl's Servant, the Esquires son to wear the knights livery, and the Gentleman's son the esquires Servingman: Yea, I know at this day, Gentlemen younger brothers, that wears their elder brothers Blue coat and Badge, attending him with as reverend regard and dutiful obedience, as if he were their Prince or Sovereign. Where was then, in the prime of this profession, goodman Tomsons jacke, or Robin Roushe my gaffer russetcoats second son? the one holding the Plough, the other whipping the Carthorse, labouring like honest men in their vocation: Trick Tom the Tailor was then a Tiler for this trade, as strange to find a Blewcoate on his back with a badge on his sleeve, as to take Kentstreete without a Scold, or Newmarket-heath without a Commissioner. But now being leapt in his Livery, he thinketh himself as good a man, with the Shears at his back, as the Poet Lawret with a pen in his ear: Notwithstanding for his profession I hold it profitable, and himself a good member, if his Shears do not canker, nor his Needle rust. And if there must be one amongst artificers, Cobblers, and Carters, chosen fellow of this faculty, I hold the Tailor not unfittest: First, in regard his trade tieth him to no uncleanliness: and secondly, that his masters apparel be kept in reparations: for nothing more unseemly in a civil Gentleman, than his apparel out of repair, torn, or broken. Again, if he be a fellow of an humble spirit, he may pleasure his friends, and profit himself: his friends, I mean his fellow servants, without blot or stain to his birth, or trade.  
Two things, it should seem, were holden in high regard amongst the founders of this fraternity of Servingmen: the preservation of ancient Houses, and, the maintenance of the Commons in their calling. First, for the upholding of Hospitality or ancient Houses, a Gentleman by antiquity, or an Esquire by his calling, weighing and worthily considering his wealth & worship, in this wavering world of wretchedness, having by God's providence sent him vi or viii Sons, proper & personable men, well meriting for their minds and manners, calling I say to mind the credit he carried in his Country, the men he maintained, the poor provided for by pence from his purse, the black jack jetting from haul to buttery, from buttery to barrel, from barrel back for the hauls health, where good fellows diving into the depth of this ditch, leaves in the bottom this inscription: God save the founders.  
Of all these, with many more, the good Gentleman meditating in his mind, says with himself: If I shall leave my Land and living, my Kine and Coin, equally divided amongst my children, imparcially proporcioning to every one his part, the youngest to the heir and elder no way inferior for worldly fortune: then shall the dignity of my degree, the hope of my house, & the maintenance of these before mentioned members, be quite (as Issue extinct) buried in the bottomless pit of oblivion. What, shall the light of my Lamp for want of Oil be blemished, and my House for want of living sustain the reproachful name of a Mock-beggar? Virtus post funera vivit. And shall I not leave my name noted in the book of ensuing ages? Yes, yes verily, Thou my eldest Son, that shall survive thy dying father, hold here, wholly my Land I leave thee, that my name may remain registered in thy posterity, thy birthright by holy writ doth challenge it. Let therefore the example of Esaw be ever coated in the margin: Let covetousness never corrupt thee, nor pleasures so much prevail, as for Pottage to hazard thy Parentage: but let thy mind and manners be ever equally matched according to thy birth & calling, that thy father's foregoing may teach thee to follow. Maintain thy right, & lose no part of that which the law of liberty hath allotted thee. According to thy ability maintain Hospitality: for that is the harbourer of two hopes, praise, & prayers: yet let Liberality be the Link to light thee, least Covetousness might corrupt, or Prodigality procure penury, in medio concistet virtus, every mean betwixt two extremes, is a virtue: so is liberality, betwixt avarice and prodigality, being placed: this mean in all music yields a most heavenly harmony. Thus not doubting but in thee to live after my Funerals be solemnized, committing the honour of my House to the care of thy credit, and thee with it to the tuition of th'almighty.  
And you my younger sons, to whom I allow no less love than the law of nature doth allot, I give every one of you yearly, to maintain you from misery, an annual rent during your natural lives: with payment of which rent your eldest brothers land shall remain charged; so that the Legasie I leave you, you may assuredly receive: exceed not your exhibition, but live within compass, till your care and diligence, being sown in service, it may yield you a more plentiful Harvest. For I tell you, my younger Children, Service I mean shallbe your inheritance: wherefore I will you, and every of you, with modest minds, and humble spirits, by diligence to augment your portions. And thus much for the preservation of ancient Houses. Now it followeth, with what care the maintenance of the commons in their calling, was in this election considered. For this Mundaine market was wholly maintained by three merchants, the supporters of this whole society: first the Prince or Sovereign: secondly, the Nobility with gentry: and the Commons the third calling. Now the Prince, being but one alone person, could lend no part to this profession: and for the Commons, there were many causes to keep them in their accustomed consort. For if they should take Peter patch-panel from the Cart to the Court, from the Plough to the Parlour, from the Sack to the Saddle, and from course Kerchief to handsome habit, this Ship having one of her Cables thus cracked, might in a storm hazard the whole, for want of such like necessaries to prevent the extremity of wind and weather. Considering therefore that the Plough was the Potentate's power, and Corn the kings Commander, it was thought good not to lame it of any limb, especially not of any such necessary limb as the houlder or the driver: for take but away a Yokesticke, the Yoke falls, the Plough stands, and the Harvest is hindered: Much more the maiming of either the before mentioned members. All artificers, Colliers, Cobblers, and Carters, are consorts of this Craft, and maintainers of this Mystery: And if any of them, nay any member of any of them be a missing, it doth blemish the body cross the company, and hinder the hope of this happy Harvest.  
Since therefore, as I said before, the Plough is the Prince's repast, the masters meat, the Servants sustenance, and the poors provender; the Potentates as good Physicians, had always an eye that no hurt should happen to hinder the health of this blessed body, the blemish whereof might bring bane and bail into their own bosom. You see the two causes so highly had in esteem in the choice of Servingmen: the maintenance of ancient Houses, and the Commons in their calling. And thus much for the original and end of servingmen first ordaining. Now followeth how flourishing was the prime of this profession.  
Even as Adam our first Parent, in the perfection of all pleasure placed in Paradise, God in his wisdom thought this seat too solitary for him alone, so framed him a fellow for his further content, help, and comfort: but what was the metal that his mate was made of, considering that two of a contrary nature being matched together could never agree: and that these two must continually accompany together the one with tother, as in a consort without discord; thought it meet and necessary to match them as near as might be, so casting Adam into a dead sleep, took a Rib from his left side, whereof he framed the Woman: which being made of the same mould, even part of his own body, he combined together in undissolvable bonds of assured friendship: Even so, Gentlemen and States considering their calling, thought it very meet and necessary to have a help, to further them in every of their actions: which help, though not to them so serviceable as Eve to Adam yet so needful unto them, & so necessary about them, as it was thought meet, this help or Servant should be made of their own metal, even a Loaf of their own dough: which being done, as before I have declared, the Gentleman received even a Gentleman into his service, and therefore did limit him no other labour than belonged himself, as to help him ready in the morning, to brush his apparel, Cloak, Hat, Girdle, or other garment, truss his points, fetch him water to wash, with other such like necessaries. His Master thus made ready, if it pleased him to walk abroad, then to take his Livery and Weapon to attend him, being himself ready, handsome, and well appointed: at his return, if it pleased him to eat, then with all diligence, decently and comely to bring his meat to the Table, and thereon in seemly sort being placed, with a reverend regard to attend him, placing and displacing dishes at the first or second course, according as occasion shall serve, till time command to take away: which done, grace said, and the Table taken up, the Plate presently conveyed into the pantry, the Haul summons this consort of companions, (upon pain to dine with Duke Humphrey, or kiss the Hare's foot) to appear at the first call: where a song is to be song, the undersong or holding whereof is, It is merry in Haul, when Beards wags all: But beardless Brian, and long toothed Tom, whose teeth be longer than his beard, saith the inditer of this ditty, was as far overseen in misplacing a word, as the founders of Broughton Church in Craven in Yorkshyre was, in placing it without an Alehouse: or, he that giveth his friend a pot of Ale in a frosty morning without a Toast, for that is the appurtenance thereunto belonging: (Beards for Chops) say they is the right of it, for it is merry in haul when Chops wags all: But Beards or Chops whether so ever, they both agree to bid a base to the chine of Beef, which being sore battered with many fresh assaults, retires back again to his hold the Kitchen, if he be able to abide a second charge: if not, than he dies manfully in the field, upon the point of his enemy's weapon, who pursues him with such hatred, as they even eat him for very anger, or hunger, choose you whether: and not so contented, they commit his very bones to the Dogs to gnaw, for his further persecution.  
And if any other enemies of less esteem encounter them in this hot conflict, all goes to the pot, unless some spark of mercy move their minds to reprieve these prisoners till the next assizes to be holden in the haul aforesaid: which service performed, and they satisfied, the Master calls to go on hunting, haulking, fishing, or fowling, in which he taketh most pleasure, or thinketh fit for the tyme. Then the Servingman, or men, with all diligence prepare themselves to the field, every one willing to show his skill, to delight his Master in which of these recreations he taketh most pleasure. Thus passing the day with these, or such like sports, the night calleth them home, where the whole service of the Servingman is still employed about his Master. No servile service was then sought for at the Servingman's hand, though no Gentleman but standeth need of some moiling mate to droyle about his drudgery. How flourishing then the state of Servingmen was in these days, he that hath ears to hear, let him hear. What sport or pastime in field or at home, pleasing the eye, or delighting the care, could the Master any way have, but the Servant was thereof equal partaker? What was the difference then, will some say, betwixt the Master and the Man, if their pleasures were equal? for than it had been as good to have been a Servant, as a Sovereign, a Man, as a Master: even this was one, and all that parted the Potentate's power, and the Servingman's profession, the one did command, the other was to obey: the due obedience to which command was had in so reverent regard, and the Servant so fearful to offend his Master, no servile, but as it were a filial fear, as the Master was almost as careful in his command, as the Servant diligent in his duty. For in these days what greater love could almost be found, then betwixt the Master and the Servant? it was in manner equal with the Husbands to the Wife, and the Child's to the Parent: for testimony whereof, there are infinite examples to be alleged, as in the prescription of the triumuerie of Marcus Lepidus, Marcus Antonius, and Octavius Cesar, in the Roman civil wars, where Naso, condemned by their prescription, was by one of his Servants kept safe in an hill: the said Servant going to the Sea side, to hire his Master a Boat for his more safe passage and speedy escape, and at his return, perceiving his Master by the strikers to be killed, he cried aloud unto him, (having yet a little life) Stay a while, O Master (quoth he) and suddenly struck the Captain and killed him, then coming again to his Master, killed himself, saying: O Master, you have received comfort.  
An other in the same time of persecution and trial of friends, having a fair shadowed vineyard, and in it a goodly Cave, deep and large (for the which peradventure he was condemned) by chance refreshing himself in the said Cave, one of his Servants perceiving the quellers yet a far off, which came to finysh his masters tragedy, for the pure love, and sincere affection that he bore to his Master, hide him safely, as he thought, in the secret place of the Den, and furnished himself with his masters apparel, feigning to be he, even offering himself to the death for his masters safety. O rare examples, worthy of everlasting memory: What greater goodwill? What purer love, or more sincere affection can be found amongst any consort of creatures than this? O happy Servants that had your being in those golden days, when Masters would merit such marvels at your hands: and thrice happy Masters, that past your pilgrimage in those blessed hours, when by your love and liberality, you tied your Servants with this undissolvable bond of assured friendship, even to deserve and merit the full measure of your good will towards them. Infinite are the examples (as I said before) that may be alleged in this matter, only these two I hold sufficient to confirm this argument, since none but will confess this love and affection to be ancient, and of long continuance.  
Yea, but will some say, these examples are old, and long is it since this love and affection was thus in the highest degree made manifest, and the trial of friendship thus exercised: show me some examples of late years, for the more credit of your cause, or else some reasons why these examples should not be as plentiful in these latter days, as in former tyme.  
To this Objection, I answer thus: There be two especial causes that hath untwined this knot, and even canceled this firm Obligaton, exchanging it for a single Bi●●l. The first is, the compounding of this pure and refined metal (whereof Servingmen were first framed) with untried dregs and dross of less esteem. The second, is the death and decay of Liberality or Reward for well doing. But I will omit to unrippe the bowels of these reasons, till time and place of fit opportunity be offered, since I have not as yet finished the second part of this tractate, which is only to declare the flourishing days of the prime of this profession.  
I have before declared how this service was in no sort servile, nor the pains belonging it any penance, but they joyed as much in their liberty, & flourished as fresh in their profession as any other, of what sort, degree, or calling soever: their fare was always of the best, their apparel fine, neat, handsome, and comely, their credit and esteem always equal with their birth and calling, in good regard: their exercises, or daily labours, nothing but pleasure, their head so smally troubled with carp and care of worldly Coin, and themselves so far from misery, penury, scarcity, or beggary, harboured in the haven of happiness, swimming in the calm, neither too deep nor too shallow, supported by these good patrons their Masters, neither soaring to high, nor diving too deep, neither Prince nor beggar, floryshing in this their estate, being (as it were) even the mean or midwarde of all degrees and callings, as I verily think they were the happiest consort of Companions, and the least troubled tradesmen, in the prime of their profession, that belonged this Mundaine market.  
O what pleasure belonged Servingmen in those days? when the great Chamber was served? the Hauls crier with a Ho yes, summoned all good fellows to appear upon an alarum? at which battle, the boards end was ever battered with the gun-shot of Good-stomackes, where the chine of Beef, the hagstocke to these Carpenters, was hewn and squared into divers parcels, for several purposes: And the black jacke, merrily trolling from one to another, well lined with the liquor of life, moistened and mollified the malcontent humours of these merry mates, to their Masters credice, and their own comfort.  
But me thinks I hear the maligners of this mystery or profession, like Momus mates murmur, saying to themselves, He telleth us of their delicate diet, handsome habit, and pleasant passing the Summer of their years: But when this lusty 〈◊〉 begun (with the Moon) to wane, and that crooked old age had eclipsed the bright sunshine of their golden days, with dusky black Clouds of dark morpheus; I mean, when that stealing Time, had consumed the oil of their Lamps, and every joint begun to grow stark, not able to supply his former place; what course then they took, to maintain themselves from misery, in this their greatest necessity, he doth omit, as a thing altogether impertinent to this discourse: but in my judgement, a thing most necessary amongst them to be considered, and the very mark whereat they ought chieflyest to aim: for else, who is so simple but will confess, that the Servingman's profession (in regard of their pleasure and ease) is to be preferred before divers sorts of people, of more wealth, and greater ability, if their end were not misery, penury, scarcity, and almost beggary: For, I hold it an infallible rule, An old Servingman, a young Beggar. What Gentleman now a days, that giveth wages and liveries, doth not look his Servant should deserve them? and when the Servant is old and crooked, and altogether unable to help himself, how much more is he then unable to deserve maintenance at his masters hands? To this Objection, thus much: What sot is so simple to ask a question, not knowing the cause? or to make answer, being altogether ignorant of the question? My Discourse tendeth only to set forth the flourishing and golden days of servingmen first ordaining: and the Objection cometh forth, With what Gentleman now a days. etc.  
But lest he, or they should think me stricken mute with the first blow, not able to abide a second charge, I will answer so much of the question as shall seem any way appertaining to this place, and leave the rest to a fit opportunity.  
Seeing therefore I have handled the Ver, aestas, and Autumnus, of this Servingman's estate, I will not leave him till his fourth part be fully finished, since the Objection hath allowed, that these three parts of his life was spent in pleasure and delight, according to my former saying: But you must note by the way, that I hold strait on the path wherein first I set foot, not meddling with these latter or leaden days, till time minister occasion. Now for the fourth, which is the Hiems, and last part of man's years, commonly called Crooked old age; as David saith, are to every man nothing but mere misery, in regard of weakening his strength, and decaying of nature: which hoary hears, if they bring to every man misery in general, it must then needs touch this degree in particular. But this misery common to all, and by the law of nature so forcible, as the wealthy Croesus, the witty Solomon nor the subtile Simon, can any way eschew, if Atropos do not befriend them in cutting the thread of their life before these days of decay approach, cannot I say be only attributed to Servingmen, and them by that means accounted most miserable. But to leave this natural misery, and come to the misery that by penury, scarcity, and want of worldly wealth, is incident. Thus much I say for this profession: When that Boreas boisterous blasts had blown the buds and blossoms from their trees, and that Hiems hoary frosts had even nipped and withered the fruits of their flourishing Summer, this kind care had every Lord of his attendant, and every Master of his Servant that by these, and such like means, they provided for their Attendants and Servants, to maintain them from want of worldly necessaries, even until the fall of their leaf was fully finished, and their vital days ended. Some would give their Servants an Annuity or yearly portion of Money, duering their natural lives, over and above their Wages, to the end, that when their service could not merit maintenance, in respect of their years and unwealdines, considering they had reaped the first fruits of their Benefice, even the Summer of their years, this their benevolence should maintain these their Servants from worldly penury, to their last hour. Other some Masters, in the same regard, would procure for their Servants such Martages, as they should think themselves sufficiently rewarded and satisfied for their whole service. Again, some other would reward their Servants with the Lease of a Farm, not as they are let now adays, like a bridle for a brainsick jade, durant bene placito, and rearing the rent, but durant vita, and rend free: so that this angelical Oil, should so mollify his decaying members, and revive his dying spirit, as the thought of crooked old Age should neither hinder his duty in his service, nor with grief shorten his days. By these, and such like means, were always Servingmen so provided for in those days, that none, no not one (that reserved that reverent regard and duty towards his Master that he ought) but passed his youth and age, in as much pleasure, plenty, and worldly felicity, to his hearts content, as any other, of what estate, degree, or calling soever. And thus much for the flourishing prime of this profession. Now followeth the third, and last part of this tractate, wherein shallbe declared (God willing) the ruin, downfall, and decay, of this mastery or profession. first you have heard the original, and of what mould or metal this Servingman was made. Secondly, in what pleasure, plenty, and delight, in the first age of their ordaining, they passed their time, even A crepundus ad t●●minum vitae.  
Now gentle Reader, if thou wilt with patience peruse these unpolished lines, and willingly lend me thy senses, to survey a capite ad c●●lcem, this last part of this my first practice: thou shalt therein plainly behold the manifold occasions that hath moved me to undertake this heavy task, which may be thought in me a malapert presumption, in regard of my insufficiency. For even as the erector or builder of an House, if he lay his platform or foundation more large than the pence in his purse, or the coin in his coffers is able to countervail or discharge, so that his ability is not sufficient to end his beginning, what he is censured, the simple may easily surmise, Even so I, having undertaken this task, and laid this platform, fit to carry Stones and mortar to this building, then to be thought the workman, having I say laid this foundation, and far unfit to finysh it, what the gentle Reader may think of me, I leave it to his good consideration: For Cum desunt vires, tamen est laudanda voluntas, but the muttering or murmuring of Momus mates I weigh not, for I hold them like barking Dogs, that ceaseth not to trouble, aswell the honest traveler, as the lurking loiterer. But lest I should fall into a labyrinth, not able to free myself from captivity, I mean, to go so far beside my text, as to forget where I left, I will return again to my purpose. Since therefore I have divided this Tractate into three parts, namely the original & end of this ordinance, the flooryshing prime of this profession, and lastly the ruin and decay thereof: two of the which, I have already handled. Now the third and last, which is the downfall and decay of this building, I will also divide and reduce into three several points, though infinite are the causes that may be alleged in this matter.  
First, the death of Liberality. Secondly, the ambition and disdain of the plain Countryman, and the gentlemanly Servingman. Thirdly and lastly, the decay of Hospitality, or good Housekeeping.  
Now for the first, which is the death of Liberality, at whose Funerals or Obsequies the Servingman may be holden chief mourner: Of the year, and day, of his original and beginning, I am altogether uncertain, unless he took his beginning primo die et anno salutis, in the first day and year of our saviour Christ jesus: whose love and liberality to mankind, so far surpassed all others, as I am sure he had either thence his beginning, or was then grown to his full perfection: but then, or whensoever he had his beginning (it is not greatly material) since he is now almost buried in the bottomless pit of oblivion, he is sure now either altogether dead, or else so aged, as he lieth bedrid in some obscure place: Where he is surely I know not; but if I were of that power to pay his ransom, and free him from captivity, or of that knowledge in the Physical science, as by ministering unto him Potions I might mitigate his passions, I would endeavour with my whole power and skill to procure his freedom and health, that I might crave of him some acquaintance, for I much desire his friendship and familiarity. But sure in my days he hath been such a stranger as I could never have his acquaintance, no not know him from his overthwart neighbour Prodigality. I would fain learn what is his countenance and habit, that if I meet him, I may know him, and crave his acquaintance. Surely, I fear he walks early in the morning, and then it is no marvel though I know him not, for my hour is eight a clock, though it is an infallible Rule, Sanat, sanctificat, et ditat, surgere mane: But if I thought early rising would prevail in this quest, I would change my hour, and begun at four: but I am almost past hope of his recovery, since his two utter enemies, Prodigality and Covetousness, doth daily pursue him with such deadly hatred. These are two extremes, and Liberality ameane betwixt them both, which is always a virtue: but Hercules ne contra duos, though his part was the mean to make the music the sweeter, yet it is accounted harsh harmony where Liberality beareth a part: And why? because his two opposite enemies hath banished him these (I may say) inhuman coasts. Where he liveth I know not; but sure I am, his exile, banishment, death, or decay, hath brought this utter ruin and overthrow to this profession, as further by the sequel hereof shall plainly appear.  
I have told you before, that servingmen only maintenance consisteth upon Liberality, for their wages was never (in any age able to defray their necessary charges and expenses. But I would not have you to m●●sconster my meaning in this Liberality, that it was bestowed upon them in mere commiseration, pity, and charity, as them of ability do upon impotent Beggars: but the Servant by his duty and diligence, did merit and deserve it before he had it, though it was over and above his covenant and bargain.  
And again, besides this good mind of the Master to his own Servant, there was an other Liberality, as thus: If the Servant were sent to his masters friend, or familiar, with a present or friendly remembrance, though he were not at that time provided to requite his equal with the like gift or present, yet he would show his thankfulness towards his Servant, in liberally rewarding him for his pains: And this kind of Liberality is now very much decayed.  
There was also a Liberality allotted and belonging to the Servingman, in this sort: If one Gentleman invited an other to his house, or that of courtesy and kindness he came to see him, the Servingman's duty and diligence, to do this his masters neighbour and friend service and honour, though that was their masters pleasure and command, yet in regard of their extraordinary pains, some pence redounded to their profit: For a Gentleman in those days, thought it (as it is in deed) the greatest disgrace that could happen unto him, to omit thankfulness for kindness received: But Covetousness doth now so much corrupt, as they either think it is idly spent, or evil bestowed that is given in that manner, without care of their credit, or consideration why they should give it, or else their memory doth fail them more than in former time it was wont: for sure I am, that they do either many times forget, or else are stack in performance of this Gentlemanly gratitude & liberality. Est virtus vera nobintas, et liberalitas est virtus, ergo liberalitas est vera nobilitas: true it is, there are either few or none that are endued with wealth & worldly blessings, but they covet to be comely covered with the handsome habit of their highest titles, Nobility, or Worship, or else whatsoever: but whether on them these titles be rightly bestowed, or no, that I leave to the censure and judgement of their own consciences. And if that Liberality be always the companion of true Nobility, as it is in deed (for they are as near joined together as Faith and Good works) Then, as S. james saith, The good Tree will bring forth good fruit: so the true Noble mind cannot be without his fruits, even Liberality itself will bud and plainly appear in the branches of this body.  
Is Liberality then a Virtue, and so near a kinsman to the true Noble mind, as it is the very scuttion, crest, and badge thereof, so that if this Coat and Cognisance walk the streets, the Master thereby may easily be known? surely it is: but if a Nobleman or Gentleman now adays, could no otherwise be known but by his Liberality, I fear me, if I should tread the Strand, I should often (for want of knowledge) unduetifully justle some of them, and scarce lend my Cap, to whom a low leg should belong. For trust me, I met (not long since) a Gentleman in Fleetstreet, whose living is better worth than .2000. Marks yearly, attended with only one Man, whose apparel was much better than his Masters, though he was a justice of Peace is his Country. But I speak not this, either to discommend the Gentleman's homely habit, or commend to Servingman in his excess: but the misery of that mind, that regarded more Coin than his credit.  
But me thinks I hear one interrupt me, saying, If your sense of seeing be not besotted, you may easily discern a difference betwixt the Potentate and the Peasant, the Gentleman & the meaner person: And if your heart be not too haughty, you may render a reverent regard, & due courtesy to whom in duty it doth belong. For if there were no other note nor difference to know the one from the other, a Gentleman from his inferior, the potentates costly apparel, handsome habit, & gorgeous garments, doth always easily bewray him; also his men and attendants (when he walketh abroad) doth show what he is: for men of meaner estates do not use to go so guarded, or walk so worthily attended. Wherefore, as I said before, easy it is, if you be thereunto willing to lend Cap or knee, or other duty, to whom it shall rightly belong or appertain.  
To this Objection I answer thus: First, for apparel, surely I think him some far borne Countryman, that thus objecteth, where in his Country a Satin Doublet, nay if it be but a Velvet Girdle or Waste, is of as much power and force, as Boreas' boisterous blasts in a windy day, or a long Staff with a good arm, the one blowing a man's Cap from his head perforce, and the other teaching a man to make courtesy, being well laid on. For I say, in some places of England, let but a pair of Velvet breeches make their appearance, what parsonage so ever they retain to, they shall have more Caps, and low Legs, than the Lord Mayor of Applebie within his whole limit, precinct, or corporation. But if he be such a cunning Lapidary as can discern colours, and tell the nature and virtue of every Stone by his outward appearance, than I would gladly (if I might make so bold with him) crave his company to walk Paul's in a Term time: and if his shoes be not too near worn, foot it down to Westminster haull by land: in which perambulation, if he can rightly decipher the nature of every gold Lace, and the virtue of every silk Stocking at the first blush, nay, after long perusing the same, if he can show me by their royal Robes, and gorgeous Garments, the Noble man, and Gentleman, from the Uerser, Setter, Cros biter, and Cunnie-catcher, than I will yield to his saying, and learn some of his cunning, that I may ever hereafter know my duty the better, and spare my Cap & Leg from such mates of no merit, as many times I lend them unto unknown. But surely I hold him in a great error, that thinks himself thus cunning, and no less able to perform this by his skill (I mean) to know every estate by his habit, than the Alcumistes unable by their Philosopher's Stone, to make a metamorphosis of every metal, and turn all into Gold that they therewith touch.  
And whereas he allegeth, that the Servingmen and attendants do always bewray the Nobleman and Gentleman what he is, that I deny: for, fallet hec regula quociescunque, I meet a Gentleman that may dispend yearly by his revenues .2000. pounds of good and lawful English money, with only one Boy at his heels, walking up Ludgate hill, and by that time I come to Paul's middle walk, I shall see Sir Davie Debet, with vi or viii tall fellows attending him, whetting their knives ready to dine with Duke Humphrey: but though they be sharp set, they may take leisure enough, for there all lirching is bard by and main. But if their hard Commons were the worst, that might be mended with after noon batling, for there is good Ale and Bread in Paul's petty Cannons: but there is a sore Giant, a Sergeant I mean, with whom they must wrestle, if Pater noster Row be no better to them then Creed Lane: if then sir john Makeshift (whose last acre lies mortgaged to the mercy of size sink) hath many times vi or viii tall fellows attending him, and an ancient Gentleman, that hath fair lands, and great revenues, whose only study is Arithmetic, and therein most practised in multiplication and the golden number, manneth himself with only one Boy, How should it be possible to discern this difference, and know the one from the other, the Gentleman from the Swashbuckler, by his apparel, attendants, and company?  
But what is the reason, may some say, that a Gentleman of great worth and ability, doth walk nowadays so slenderly attended? and a new upstart Caveliro, whose Fathers chief Badge or Cognisance was the weavers Shuttle, or the tailors Shears, will tread the streets so stately attended, and so gallantly guarded with a sort of seemly (if so I may term them) and floryshing fair Cloaks, as though he were the Prince of Peacocks, or Marquis of some stately Moulhill? Marry even this, The loss of Liberality in the one, and the power of Prodigality in the other: for if the Gentleman of high regard and esteem, were not too studious in these two branches of the art of Arithmetic, Multiplication and the Golden number: if I say, Liberality, the badge and cognisance of true Nobility and worship, were not by his power & authority committed to common jail, then would he, preferring worth before weight, walk more worthily attended, guarded gallantly with a sort of seemly Servants, always well appointed, aswell to show his power, as to grace his person. And sir Henry Hadland, if he would well weigh and consider how many days, nay weeks, months, and years, his father spent in sore toil and travail, every hour and moment, day and night, carping & caring, how of patches to make a weareable garment, and scrape some Crowns into his Coffers, whereby he, with his posterity, might be more able to maintain themselves in their trade and calling neighbourlike, would never so prodigally and carelessly spend, consume, and make havoc in one Winter of that, which so many, yea and fruitful Summers before had yielded. This prodigality procureth a double misery, a miserable want in the end to them that so carelessly consumes their patrimony, and mere misery to the covetous Cormorant: for, saith he, Felix quem socij nanim periisse procellis cum vidit, in tutum flectit sua carbasa portim, it is good to be rich, a man may be yoore when he will: So by the example of this prodigal person, he that hath wherewith to maintain himself in very Gentlemanlike sort, with men about him for his credit, being descended of an ancient house and worthy parentage, burieth in oblivion his state and dignity, and becoming a very servile slave, and thraull, to this dunghill dross, his gold and money, leadeth his life in most miserable manner. Where is then this Liberality become, that hath been in former time so highly esteemed? Look in the vii Chapter of Ecclesiasticus, and there you shall find a friendly persuasion, Be liberal unto all men: much more than unto your Servants & Attendants, meriting and deserving this your liberality. And in an other place of the same Chapter he saith, You Masters, restrain not your Servants of their liberty, and be sure you leave not your faithful Servant a poor man.  
O how many Gentlemen in these days doth respect this worthy saying? or have that care of their faithful Servants, that this place of Scripture doth command? sure they are few or none. The liberal Master is a rare Phoenix: so that the saying of Elias may well in these our days be verified, There is none, not one left in all Israel, that feareth the Lord, and worketh righteousness. Even so it may be said, There is none, no not one, in this age, that beareth that love in Liberality towards his Servants, that he in goodwill ought, or they by duty do daily merit. But it may be said to me, as the Lord said to Elias, I have not only seven, but seventy times seven Servants in Israel, that hath not bowed their knees to Ball, though unto Elias they were thought so small a number: Even so, not only seven, but seventy times seven Gentlemen, in whom the ancient virtue, the badge and crest of true Nobility, even Liberality itself, doth bud, blossom, and bear her accustomed fruit in due season, as in former ages.  
This number is since, by tract of time, much lessened and impaired: but howsoever, sure I am that Liberality, as I said before, is either quite dead, banished, or else plays least in sight, as Banckroutes, that walks narrow lanes, or keeps them out of the Liberty, lest they should sing the Counter tenor, or at Ludgate, For the Lords sake. But pity it is, that Liberality that honest fellow should, dying, be buried without his rites and ceremonies, his funerals and obsequies, to be duly solemnized. I fear me that none was so charitable as to ring his soul knell, or bestow on him a winding sheet. O that I had lived when he died, or had been at the making of his Will, though I had been none of his Executors, nor had had any Legasie bestowed upon me, yet would I, at my own charges, have seen him honestly brought forth to his long home (as the saying is:) but sure he died Intestate, and for heirs Apparent I think he had none, for since his death I never heard o●● any his successors: Notwithstanding though he were before my time, yet have I heard so much good of him, as loath I am that his fame should be buried in oblivion: wherefore I will (though I be no professed Poet) frame some Epitaph of his life and death, though the place and time of his death be unto me altogether unknown, and leave it to ensuing ages.  
It is not for the Shepherds O ten pipe, to presume to keep his part in consort in Princes Palaces, where heavenly harmony is daily harboured; neither I to take upon me Poetry, whose judgement therein can scarcely discern what feet a Verse doth stand upon: notwithstanding, since I have promised an Epitaph, I will perform it, though it lie buried with the shavings of the Press in the bottom of a Dry-fat: wherefore, hoping the Fiddle may be accepted, for want of musical Instruments, give ear, and you shall hear his best tune.  

Cease Sun to lend thy glorious shine,  
Moon darkened be, as cloudy night,  
Stars stay your streaming lights divine,  
That wont were to shine so bright:  
Weep woeful wights, and wail with me,  
For dead is Liberality.   

You Fire, Water, Earth, and Air,  
And what remains at your command:  
Foules, Fish, or else, be filled with care,  
And mark the sum of my demand:  
Weep, weep I say, and wail with me,  
For dead is Liberality.   

You silver Streams, that wont to flow,  
Upon the banks of Helicon:  
You sacred Nymphs, whose stately show  
Bedimd the bright of Phaeton,  
Weep, weep I say, and wail with me,  
For dead is Liberality.   

If Due-desart to Court resort,  
Expecting largely for his pain,  
The Prince he finds then alamore,  
No lieu, his labour is spent in vain:  
May he not then come wail with me?  
Yes, dead is Liberality.   

The parings from the Prince's Fruit,  
That silly Grooms were wont to feed,  
Now Potentates for them make suit:  
True Gascoine saith, the Lord hath need:  
Weep therefore weep, and wail with me,  
For dead is Liberality.   

The Courtly crew, of Noble minds,  
Would give reward for every Leg:  
To crouch and kneel now duty binds,  
Though Suitor nought but right doth beg:  
Weep therefore weep, and wail with me,  
For dead is Liberality.   

When Countries causes did require,  
Each Nobleman to keep his house,  
Then Blewcoates had what they desire,  
Good cheer, with many a full carovie:  
But now not as it wont to be,  
For dead is Liberality.   

The Haull boordes-ende is taken up,  
No Dogs do differ for the bones,  
Blacke-Iacke is left, now Glass or Cup,  
It makes me sigh with many groones,  
To think what was, now thus to be,  
By death of Liberality.   

Where are the Farms that wont to fly  
Rend free by service well deserved?  
Where is that kind Annuitte,  
That men in age from want preserved?  
What, do you look for wont to be?  
No, dead is Liberality.   

What Squire now but racks his Rents,  
And what he ●●ath, who will g●●ue more?  
T●●e giff-gaff promise he repentes,  
The Lord hath need, surcease therefore:  
Weep, weep, for now you well may see,  
That dead is Liberality.   

The golden world is past and gone,  
The Iron age hath run his race,  
The lump of Lead is left alone,  
To press the poor in every place:  
Nought else is left but misery,  
Since death of Liberality.   

Weep, weep, for so the case requires,  
The world hath lost her second Sun:  
This is the sum of my desires,  
To end where erst I have begun:  
Even still I say come wail with me,  
The death of Liberality.   
Thus you have heard, the death of Liberality to be one of the especial occasions that hath wrought the utter overthrow, ruin, & subversion of servingmen estate. Now for the ambition and disdain of the Countryman, and the Gentlemanly Servingman.  
First for the Yeoman, or Husbandman's son, aspiring from the Plough to the Parlour, I hold these the contempt of his vocation, Fear, to hazard his life in his Princes Martial affairs, and, the ambitious desire of dignity, to be the especial occasions that hath moved him to change his habit and colour, from jerkin to Coat, and from Russet to Blue. In the first he imitates Icarus, who presuming upon his Waxed wings, soared so high, as the heat of fiery Phaeton melted the wings of this unfethered Fowl, and so cast him fully as low as he had his beginning: even so, this Yeoman's Son prying into this easy and pleasant life of Servingmen, and considering the droiling he hath about his drudgery, without consideration that he is called to this countries labour, or how far he is unfit to execute the others office, not acquainted therewithal, taketh upon him this new trade of living, in my judgement as far unable to execute the others office, as Icarus to soar in the highest heavens: but pity it is that they are not as well punished for their aspiring minds, as Icarus for his proud and presumptuous enterprise, Tempora mutantur et nos mutamur in illis, when crooked old age cometh, and they shaken off, as by their unwildinesse not able to merit four Marks and a Lyverie, than they are feign with heavy cheer retro spectare; and wisheth that eye had been blind wherewith they first pried into the flourishing profession of Servingmen: floryshing I say, in their first age, but now by these and such like occasions ruinated, and almost clean withered.  
The second occasion that made Blue so dear, was this, These latter days are more dangerous and troublesome then former ages, so that many Kings and Princes are even occasioned to maintain their right by force of Arms and Hostility. And now falling out so that an Army must be levied, to be employed at home or abroad, for the defence of the Country, or offence to the enemy, Robin Russetcoate must of necessity be one of the number, as good reason that all sorts should be assistant to such service. Now his Father, loath to part from his beloved Son, will give Marks and Pounds to redeem him, and keep him at home from doing his Prince and Country service. And if he can by any favour, coin, or kindness, blow over these boisterous blasts, and keep his Son from being made deaf by the gun-shot of great Ordinance: then he will seek by all means possible to prevent a second fear, and makes haste to a Gentleman, or justice of peace, to whom when he cometh, he lends more Caps and Legs, than a good Arithmetitian can almost in a long time number: then comes, I beseech your Worship, and at every word a low leg: the tenor of whose petition may easily be surmised. The Gentleman being of Servants sufficiently furnished, and having all his Offices full, loath to displace any, well considering how far unfit such a fellow is to be leapt in a Lyverie, or harboured in the haul, who wont daily to attend in the Oxe-parlor, shapeth him an answer: Friend, I can not pleasure you, I have no place void that your Son can supply. The seely old man returneth home sad and sorrowful, not knowing how to prevent the next Alarm: but remembering the old saying of the popish Priests, that wont to make money of their Matins, No penny, no Pater noster, putteth in practice, by the oil of Angels, to mollify the hard heart of this Magistrate: then comes he again, I have brought your worship a couple of fat Capons, Pig, Goose, or Lamb; now good your Worship stand my good Master, and take my Son into your service, I will apparel him at my own charge, he shall ask nothing but meat, drink, and a Lyverie, with other necessaries I will maintain him like a man. Now the Gentleman, calling to mind that hereby he might save four Marks and a Lyverie, beside a preferment that his Man would expect for his long and dutiful service, bethinketh himself one way or other, Nodum in serpo querere, and thereby to make benefit of this last motion: then he watcheth opportunity, and even for breaking a Bulrush, Facile cum invenire baculum, ad cedendum Canem, Knave pack out of my doors, I will keep no such as thou art: with a thousand such like opprobrious liveries, neither befitting a Gentleman to give, nor a right Servingman to receive. But thus ridding his hands of one of his Servants that then most expected preferment, he giveth entertainment to sir Rowsand Russet-coates son, who rests no less glad of his place, than the Fowl of a fair day: But dulce bellum in expertis, If he considered what the want of fire is in a Winter evening, he would rather with the Emmet labour in Summer, then with the Fly starve in Winter, though the Winter of servingmen years was ever sufficiently provided, as before I have declared: but every thing is worse for the wearing. Then th●●s goodly Yeoman, thrusten into a Blue coat, holdeth himself a better Servingman, than he that hath spent his whole time in that trade, though (simple swain) he know not how to hold a Trencher.  
The third, and last occasion of this new enormity, is the ambitious desire of dignity: for in former ages (as before I have said) when Servingmen were had in good regard, by divers occasions they were many times highly preferred, as by their wit and will many of them often merited great matters: Some of them would carry themselves so soberly, discreetly, and wisely, as they came to great wealth, worth, and preferment by Marriage: some again, amongst the Potentates were so much esteemed, as they were thought worthy, & in deed preferred to Offices & places of great credit: and many other means they had whereby they came to great promotion. Which wealth, worth, credit, and preferment, these uncivil sots gape after, and surmise themselves worthily to merit, though (God wots) many of them are as much unworthy to keep the Dogs out of the dining Chamber, as I unable to express their insufficiency.  
Now for the disdain of the Gentlemanly Servingman: You have heard before what metal the right Servingman was made off, of himself pure and right stuff, not mixed with any dregs and dross of less esteem: But when this mixture of mingle-mangle begun, and that he saw himself consorted with a crew of such clusterfystes, he began to wax weary of his profession, even loathing to live in fellowship with such unserviceable people, and disdaining the degree of a seru●●le drudge, resolveth either to clear the suit of that Card, or else to turn over a new leaf: but Herculei labores, it is as hard for him to thrust Pierce the Ploughman out of his Blue coat, as to tame the shrewysh tongue of a Kentysh-streete Scold; not in regard that the Gentlemen of this age are so delighted with their clownish barbarism, but that their maintenance doth not so stretch the Purse-strings of their Mai●●ters, as the maintenance of the right Servingman: betwixt whose merits, there is much more difference, then in these our days betwixt their rewards: for, four Marks and a Lyverie, is to them both as currant, as vii s. vi. d. for a flemysh Angel; nay, forty shillings a year keepeth a great stir in many Houses, though it was ordinary .400. years since: but for wages I will omit, till opportunity be offered. Notwithstanding, to return to my purpose, I would fain know whether the jorneyman or Apprentice, the Workman or the Labourer, be more worthy or better deserving? If the Labourers wages be but vi d. a day, and the Master workman can & will earn a shilling? So much, and more (in my judgement) ought to be the difference betwixt a right Servingman, & a new upstart Tom all-thummes: For the one, A crepundiis, hath been trained up to his science: the other at twenty years setteth up for himself. But it is marvel they are not brought into the Exchequer, using other men's occupations, never serving Apprentishyp: Exchequer, nay, into the Towne-stockes, a fit place: for the occupation is now a days so beggarly, as few, or none of them, is able to pay the fees to that Court belonging, neither can Thenformer wring any powling pence out of any of their Purses. The old saying is verified, There are so many of thoccupation, as one can not thrive for throng of his neighbours. Surely this doth prove, that in diebus illis, it was a good trade, otherwise so many would not have left the Plough, to wail in the Parlour. But even as Ringtayles and buzzards hooovering over the Partridge, spoils the flight of the Falcon, whose magnanimous mind daigneth not to stoop in the presence of these carrion Scarecrows, but chooseth rather to leave the pray, and soar abroad, then to wag her wings, or seem any way conversant amongst such coapesmates: even so the Gentlemanly Servingman, whose life and manners doth equal his birth and bringing up, scorneth the society of these sots, or to place a Dish, where they give a Trencher.  
But amongst these unfitting fellows for this fraternity, I mean not to place all yeomen's sons, or others, that are not Gentlemen by birth, God forbidden that I should do them all in general so great wrong: for many there are that come to deserve the names of Gentlemen, and higher titles, by Learning, and other their extraordinary good gifts, whose Father could well content himself with the name of Goodman. etc. Wherefore, such as have either been brought up in Learning, and so made fit for this Form, or them that a purili etate have been practisers of this science, I will make bold to place amongst these Gentlemanly Servingmen: for Cicero saith, It is more honour and credit to be the first Gentleman of the name, than so to end, as his posterity cannot challenge for their inheritance that worthy title: And for my own part, I think the Scholar (howsoever borne) deserves always the name of a Gentleman. Therefore filing these, as I said before, upon the roll of right Servingmen, I will return again where I left. What inconvenience doth grow by this controversy may easily be seen, known, and understood.  
First, for the aspiring mind of the Countryman, that will needs be leapt in a Lyverie, this mischief followeth his madness, dearth, scarcity, famine, and hunger: For I will prove by good reason, that the Yeoman's Son leaving his daily labour (to which from his infancy he hath been trained) and taking upon him the degree of a Servingman, breedeth as many inconveniences in the Commonwealth, as want of exercises begetteth diseases in a corpulent body: For the Yeoman's son, as I said before, leaving give, haygh, for Butlor some more fair Trenchers to the Table, bringeth these ensuing uleers amongst the members of this Common body. First, whereas he himself by the sweat of his brows and daily hand labour, was able to dig yearly from the womb of the earth, so much belly timber, as was able to sustain and satisfy the hungry mouths of. vi.viii. or ten of his Father's family, or neighbours near dwelling, and so much back provision, as would hill, hap, or cover them in seemly sort, according to their countries calling: This hand, that was so well employed, Non sibi solum sed suis, now by change of his vocation, becoming idle, not any way getting meat for his own mouth, the ●●eelie souls that were by his industry before fully fed, must of necessity now perish with famine, and starve for want of clothing, for that the means of their maintenance is now thus metamorphosed: for the hand of any man scorning his office to feed his mouth, the whole body of necessity must perish: even so this body, this hand thus disdaining his duty.  
Again, this is an other enormity that hereof proceedeth, This hand that maintained vi. viii. or ten as I said before, ceaseth not only to do this good to his Country, but also in process of time by changing his vocation, breedeth and begetteth a further mischief and inconvenience, to the hurt and hindrance of the Common wealth, as after by circumstances I shall declare. For having thus altered his vocation, he must alter his habit, countenance, conditions, qualities, cogitations: and what not? he must as well as he can make satisfaction for the Queen's currant English before by him clipped, he must now make it full weight, good and currant lawful English: His habit must now be fashionate in proportion and colour: Northern Carsies not now weareable in Breeches, for it will shrink, and the fashion is now to have Uenetians of the largest size: if they will not hold a bushel a breech, they are not saleable in Birtchen lane. For Kentish russet, it is no colour, it will make no show in a Country Church: But the best Broadcloth, and newest colour, must cover this late Country Courtier. His pace it must not be other Leg totherway, and other Leg totherway, as he was wont to throw them, when he turned his Cattle from Plough to Pasture, making Indentures all along the ditches: But his gate and gesture of his body must be direct and upright, treading as true as though he would tell what paces are in a Furlong. His courtesy with Cap and Leg must be as his Apparel of the newest fashion, with all other the rites and ceremonies belonging to this new taken up trade: no small time he spends before he be in this an artist, and mean while, his senses are so besotted, as he quite forgetteth how to hold the Plough, or whip the Carthorse: and for the cunning in this craft, not one amongst an hundred of them, ever in all his life time, attaineth to the knowledge of his duty, for Ethiopcum lavare, is an endless labour: even so, to make a Fox tail a blowing Horn, or of a Country Clown, a sufficient Servingman: For, Quo semel est imbuta rec●●ns servabit odorem testa diu.  
He that till twenty is brought up to Blow,  
What service in P●●rlor can he do think you?  
Is it possible to bend or how a strong Oak as a young Sapline? or to teach the old fingers that are grown stiff and stark, to their full age, to play upon any musical Instrument, with such facility and leavinesse of joints, as the young Fingers that are nimble, and to any thing tractable, in regard they are but gristles and sinews ungrowen? Even such is the impossibility, to make the Countryman that hath been brought up in Husbandry, and other bodily labour, whose hands, tongue, and all the rest of his members, have been daily and hourly employed to one and the same kind of exercise, now to altar and change every office of his said members, and them to employ in several and unknown exercises. But some may object and say, You make such a mystery of your profession, and such cunning to belong it, as without a man have all his members apt, neat, and nimble; as his Hands pliant to several purposes, his Tongue eloquent to object, answer, or discourse pleasantly, his Person and gesture handsome and comely, his Wit, Discretion, and Courage, answerable to all the rest of his parts, as if he want these, nay any one of these, he is servus nomine n●●n●●re, He is a Servingman in name, but not in deed. I hold you are much mistaken, for if a man can place a Dish, fill a Bowl, and carry his masters Rapier, what more is or can be required at his hands? And if this be all in all to discharge that duty, what blunt fellow, how brutishly soever he hath been brought up, but can and may learn quickly, to discharge so much as is here required:  
O foolish objection, and thrice sottysh surmise, no less simple, then mere simplicity itself, not much unlike the popish Priests of the old Learning (as the say) which thought themselves worthy, nay, sufficient to discharge a place in the ministery, and take orders, if they could say or sing by rote, or otherwyise, the old Confitemini, or, Nunc dimittis servum tuum domine, though they could better sing the whole Mass, then decline Dimittis: But as the old verse is worthy noting, and true in deed, that Qui bene can, bene con, bene le, presviter debet esse, and none else, no none ought to take upon them that function, unless they could read well, sing well, and expound well: So none ought (in my judgement) to take upon him the degree of a Servingman, unless he be furnished with those qualities and parts that before I have set down belonging a Servingman, and befitting his profession.  
And if it be then requisite in a Servingman, that he should be of wit, discretion, government, and good bringing up, fine, neat, nimble, and well qualitied, to discharge those duties, which before I have set down belonged him, and were required at his hands in the prime of his ordaining, and for those qualities was so called to that place, as without them, nay, every of them, he could not sufficiently discharge his duty therein: how much would then the founders of this fraternity have frowned, to have admitted one into this fellowship, that had wanted not only one, but all these parts before mentioned, so requisite, and the full measure of them so much at his hands expected and required? would they, think you, have been contented, to have entertained a man that could only have carried a Dish, given a Trencher, or carried a Rapier after them? No, they did not only require this to be done in decent and comely manner, which none, no not one of them which is objected, fit enough for this profession, can do as is required, but much more he must over and beside the qualities before in him required, be able to give entertainment to a stranger in decent and comely manner, deliver a Message discreetly and wisely to a Potentate, Magistrate, or meaner person, to talk and discourse with his Master upon foreign or domestical affairs, nay much more than I can express, for want of judgement and experience herein: and if I were of knowledge sufficient, yet would my pen be weary, before I should at large express the whole duty to this profession belonging. But I will not take upon me to teach others that, wherein I am myself but a learner, lest it might be said unto me (and not undeservedly) Turpe doctori cum culpa redarguit ipsum, You take upon you to teach others their duty, and cannot yourself perform it. Therefore I will surcease to wade any further into this Ford, lest I should be drowned in the depth, or lose myself in this Labyrinth. If then all these duties, & many more be required in a Servingman: How much then insufficient think you is the Yeoman's son, that beginneth at twenty to take upon him this trade? Thus you have heard what inconvenience doth grow by the aspiring mind of the Countryman: Now what hurt doth happen to the Commonwealth, by the disdain of the Gentlemanly Servingman, a word or two, and so an end of this part.  
You have heard before from whence this Servingman was descended, of ancient and worthy Parentage, yet his maintenance not altogether correspondent: and the causes why he was no better by his Parents provided for, are before at large expressed: his maintenance I say was but some annual portion, and that after the decease of his Parents, which without some other help, was no way able to maintain him Gentlemanlike, and therefore called to this profession, for the better supporting of him according to his estate, without charging of his friends further than his Father's Legasie, his estate, birth, calling, & credit, no way thereby blotted, blemished, stained, impaired, or impeached, but much bettered for wealth and worth: in worth, in regard he was fellow to no inferior: and in wealth, because he kept his own, and often increased his talent by his diligence and desert. But now being forced to consort himself with men of less merit, and that they shall equal him in esteem, and better him in reward, I mean, they coming in the after noon at four a clock into the vineyard, shall have their hire for the whole day, in as full or larger measure, than he that hath endeavoured himself Manibus pedibusque, with tooth and nail, that is, even to the uttermost of his power from vi in the morning, to the last hour, truly to earn his whole days wages, beginneth much to disdain this drudgery, and so leaveth the vineyard wholly to these unskilful workmen, and loitering labourers: And now being not as before set awork, but missing that part of his maintenance before mentioned, which he got in service, How do you think he can carry himself in statu quo prius? no, it cannot be without some extraordinary means: Either he must be more chargeable to his friends then his Father willed him, or else procure his maintenance by some worse means than will stand with his birth or credit. What need I gloze upon the text, or seem to dance masked in a Net? truth it is, he must live, and he will live. How? like a Man? yea, and like a Gentleman. What, and want living? that is no matter, he will live by his Wits. What, by the art of alchumistry, to metamorphis other metal into Money? or by conveying the Indies into England, or England into the Indies? No, no, Pewter, Brass, nor Tin, we can not spare, to turn into Gold or Silver: and for the Indies to come into England, we have no room, unless he can command the Sea to give it place, which doth on every side so round immure us, and I am sure it loves us too well, to leave us undefenced: What rests then? He can not, as Christ did, work miracles, to turn Water into Wine; but he can do this miracle, by a writ of Remove he can displace Money, or Gold, finding it unseemly seated, and place it higher or lower, as he finds it worthy: and if the sight of it be too garysh, and offend his eyes, he can do this miracle, he can turn it into Wine, which shallbe more pleasant to his taste, than was the sight to his eye: and after all, turn the Wine into Water, to show his power and pre-eminence over it, and how smally he esteems this worldly dross and pelf. But what Court this Writ of Remove comes from, or whether it be ex officio or no, there is the question, but that doubt I leave for men of more judgement to decide: yet notwithstanding, thus much I will say, that if the breaking, transgressing, and violating, of good Laws and Statutes in a Common wealth, for the public weal established, be offensive, dangerous, and hurtful to the state of the said weal public, then surely this disdain that I have hitherto spoken off, must of necessity engender many diseases in this common body, to his great hurt and hindrance.  
Much more surely I could have said in describing particularly the inconveniences hereof proceeding, but loath I am to protract time with frivolous phrases, & seem too tedious in a matter so apparent. Wherefore gentle Reader, you see how dangerous is this disdain, & how hurtful to the Common wealth, & bear with me I beseech you, in that I pass it over so slightly, for, Quod sub inteligiter non deest, that that is behind I leave to your good consideration.  
But me thinks I hear you say, You have made a long discourse of this ambition and disdain, what mischief and inconvenience doth thereof proceed to the Common wealth, and to all in general: but, what hurt or hindrance doth thereof grow in particular, to the state and profession of Servingmen in this age, that you leave altogether untouched, which (as I take it) should be the sum of your Treatise. I answer no, I have in some sort handled it already: but if I have not therein satisfied your expectations to the full, I will briefly give you a note or two more, and so an end of this part.  
For the Countryman that will needs elevate his voice a note above Ela, that will with Icarus have waxed Wings to fly aloft, because Feathers be to light in a boisterous wind: this fellow I say, that imagines he can sing Pricksong at the first sight, before he can say his Gamut, when he steps in to play his prizes, employeth all his parts, to see if he have any thing in him so to commend him, as thereby to gain the good liking of his new Master. But finding in himself nothing worthy esteem, and that his parts and gifts cannot deserve nor gain him that he expectes at his masters hands, he turneth over a new leaf, and seeks by sinister means to effect that, which otherwise he could not by any good means bring to pass. Then he beginneth, like a Politician, to enter into consideration of his masters humour; and if he be prodigal, he preacheth of gentlemanlike liberality: if covetous and worldly, than he turneth his copy, and prattles of sparing, he tells him he keeps too many idle fellows, his Buttery is too open, and his fare too costly, less would serve and as well satisfy: with a thousand such like tales he tireth his masters ears: which needeth not, for they are subject enough to hear now adays such prattling Parasites, especially talking of profit or sparing. And if his Master lend him hearing, and seem to allow of his talk, than he ceaseth not to invent and invaigh against his fellows, hoping thereby to creep into sole credit with his Master, and to life them out that are men of much more merit, and better desert: but all this his practice and prattling, is not with sincere affection to prefer his masters profit, but thereby to grope for some gain to himself. For Petty in his civil conversation, saith: That mark when you will, if any seek to come up or benefit themselves, they seek by bribery, flattery, and such other sinister means, if they want the gifts of Nature and nurture to the same to commend them. Now if this new upstart tradesman prevail in his practice, it makes the Master slenderly regard his old Servants, it makes him again smally, or not at all, reward them for their long service, and good deserts; it cutteth them short of their wont allowance, as well for far and diet, as for their liberty: which mayning of their maintenance, and laming their liberty, makes their lives so miserable, their profession so contemptible, and their manners so mutable, as not being able (as before) to play the good fellows, they fall into some desperate humour, or some malcontent melancholyke, cursing the hour of their creation, the day of their nativity, the place of their education, and the time wherein they took upon them this their profession, wishing they had been brought up otherwise, though it had been to the greatest and most servile bodily labour: For, Who is so wobegon, as first a man, and then none? And thus much for the ambitious mind of the Countryman.  
Now for the disdain of the right Servingman, finding himself thus aggrieved, and his disease incurable, without change of air, leaveth his place and profession, and retireth himself into some solitary desert, where I will leave him to the mercy of his malcontent humours. Now he being thus banished as an exile, steps into his place some mate of less merit, which having no parts to commend him, nor gifts to deserve gains, becometh very officious and diligent, willing to droyle and drudge in any servile sort, so as he may get meat to his belly, and clothes to his back, without respect of the credit of his place, his present gain, or his future preferment: and when an other of better parts cometh to supply that place, having a care of his credit, and respect to his preferment, his Master will regard him no more than the other, neither in wages nor reward: so that this kind of service by this means, becomes a very servile servitude. What might further hereof be discoursed I will omit, since I must touch it more at large in the sequel of this treatise, and therefore thus much shall suffice concerning this ambition and disdain.  
Now followeth the last part of this Tractate, wherein I will show (God willing) into what utter ruin, downfall, decay, and mere misery, this state of Servingmen is fallen, by the decay of Hospitality and Good-house-keeping. It were a travel too tedious to show a capite, ad calc●●m, all the causes that brought this bane and bail to the Buttery and Boards end, which both being fallen into a consumption, a cureless disease, there rests no Physic helps to recover their decaying members. Wherefore I will omit the original, from whence their malady proceeds, and only speak of the hurt and hindrance that thereof ensueth to the trafiquers in this trade, and ministers of this mystery.  
Now truth it is, in diebus illis, in former ages, that Potentates and Gentlemen of worth, spent their whole Rents and Revenues in Hospitality and good housekeeping (Skot and Lot only excepted) making even at the years end, never trubling themselves with the art of Arithmetic, to add or subtract: they weighed no wealth, but held Coin in utter contempt, not vouchsafing to touch, handle, or dispose of it, that care they committed to the consideration of their Servants, strictly observing the command of wise Cato, Dilige denarium sed perce dilige formam. It was rare to see any of them sell, or purchase, or find more Coin in their Coffers then would defray necessary charges. O how merrily they lived, and what pleasure they took to see the gun-shot of good stomachs come batter the great Chines of their stalled Beef. To compare the pleasures of their golden days, when Gold was so smally regarded, with the misery of this latter, nay last age, were able in my judgement, to wring tears out of the eyes of Adamant. There was no violating of Faith, nor breach of promise, no hatred nor malice, no cunning nor Cunnie-catching, no swearing nor forswearing, no fear of fraud, nor mistrust of friendship, no simony, no bribery, no flattery, no villainy, no deceit in bargaining, no false witness bearing, no cruel murdering, no crafty conspiring, nor any fraudulent dealing. And why? Because Gold, the author of all this ungodliness, was not regarded. Why is promise not performed? Malice so manifest? Cunning and Coney-catching so common? Swearing and forswearing so usual? Simony, Bribery, Flattery, and all villainy, so daily practised? What is the end of deceit in bargaining? Why doth the wicked bear false witness? the murderer kill cruelly? the crafty conspirator imagine his mischief? and the fraudulent dealer deceive his neighbour? even Silver and Gold, Money is the mark whereat they all shoot, the Master whom they all obey, the Mine wherein they all dig, and the Man to whom they all do reverence. It is Money they mind, Gold they grope after, and gain they groan for: Money I say, Money is the cause of all this mischief and misery.  
But it may be objected, How can Money be the cause of all this mischief and misery? It neither commandeth nor forbiddeth, procureth nor dissuadeth, flattereth nor frowneth, compelleth nor denieth, furthereth nor hindereth, any man to commit any offence, villainy, or knavery; it is a dead metal, and no living creature, that with fair words, amiable countenance, or faithful promises, it might entice, allure, or persuade any man to do any thing contrary to his own intended meaning or purpose. Truth it is, the metal of itself cannot be deemed either good or hurtful: for let it lie, it will neither stop your passage, nor hinder your journey, it will not brave upon you, nor urge you to any inconvenience, take it and use it with discretion, it will not be your foe, but your friend: But come to abuse it, it will bear no coals, it will not take any wrong at your hands, it is pure and fined metal, and cannot endure to be mixed with dregs and dross of less esteem: I say, it cannot endure to be used otherwise then as it is, and to that end it was ordained. It is not the metal of itself, as I said before, that is either good or hurtful, but the use or abuse of it worketh in it either of the foresaid effects. For mark from the beginning, whom you have seen to abuse it, I mean, to desire or procure it, contrary to law, equity, and conscience (for that is the abuse of it) and it hath not quit him or his their meed, as the saying is, even rewarded him according to his deserts.  
Did not judas that false traitor, even for the covetous desire of Coin, betray his own master our saviour Christ into the hands of the jews? but what was his guerdon and reward? How long did he possess this booty, by this his inhuman practice obtained? Did he not immediately go forth, and cursing the hour of his creation, the time of his birth, the womb that bore him, and the paps that gave him suck, and so in this desperate humour hanged himself? Infinite are the number of them against whom this definite sentence of death, or other danger hath been adjudged, only for abusing these pure and refined earthly commanders, Gold and Silver.  
You have now proved, may some say, that the wrong use of worldly treasure breedeth many diseases in this human society: But what particular hurt hereof ensueth to Hospitality, which is the matter you have now in hand, you omit. Not so my very good friends, but have patience a while, and I will pay you the uttermost farthing.  
I have told you before, in what small esteem men of worth in former ages held this worldlings God, nay, they were so afraid to discontent or abuse it, that they would neither make nor meddle with it, but by substitutes and deputies, which the help of it procured to themselves all worldly necessaries, which was the total of their desire. But the Devil (in my judgement) the author, root, and original of all mischief and misery, hath infused into this metal some piece of Adamant, and into man's desire and affection some lump of Iron: which Adamant, according to his nature, drawing the Iron unto it, linketh themselves together in undissolvable bonds of earthly perpetuity during this worldly pilgrimage: not much unlike the Castle of Adamant, feigned in the history of Hughon of Bordeaux, which Castle having drawn the said Hughon unto it, all hope of departure thence was quite extinguished, only except he could escape and be thence delivered by an extraordinary and imminent danger: which was, to be carried over the Sea in the claws of a Griffine, whose desire was to devour him, and that was one danger: and in great hazard in regard of his weight to fall from the said Griffine into the Ocean and so be drowned, and that was an other danger: which dangers, as they were great and perilous, so I hold their perils no less dangerous, and as hard for them to be separated and delivered from this pernicious Adamant Castle, that hath linked and chained themselves unto it by their extraordinary covetous desire of this worldly Mammon. Now this affectionate desire of this base Boulogne, having linked and chained the hearts of great ones unto it, such as in former ages were wont to maintain Hospitality, and Good-house-keeping in the highest degree, in such a self blinded bond of assurance, as they fall into consideration and wary weighing of all the surplusage to that charge belonging: so lessening, pinching, diminishing, dividing, and substracting of it, as they may almost be ashamed of the remain, it is drawn into so narrow a room: nay, if they hold on (as God wots they have done too long) their substractes I fear me willbe, Take nothing out of nothing, and there remains nothing. I advise you go not fasting to such a house, for there you may as soon break your neck as your fast. O miserable and strange language, and not so strange as true: Where are the great Chines of stalled Beef? the great black jacks of double Beer? the long haul tables fully furnished with good victuals? and the multitude of good fellows assembling to the houses of Potentates and men of worth? In a word, they are all banished with the spirit of the Buttery, they are as rare in this age, as common in former times, These Potentates and Gentlemen, as I said before, have begun in this manner to lessen their charge: first, for their three years stalled Beef, it was too fat, and triple charge, one year, nay less will serve to fat a Bullock, the meat much sweeter, and the charge much less, and so for other victuals of that kind. Now for Beef, Mutton, Veal, Pig, Goose, and Capon, which was the substance of their provision in those days, wherewith their Tables were daily furnished, so that there was good cheer with plenty for them that sat, good revertions for them that waited, and great relief for the poor amongst those full platters. Now these bountiful and substantial dishes are changed into cates of less cost, though dishes of rarer device. Now there must be Goose-giblets, Pigs-petitoes, and so many other boiled meats, forced meats, and made dishes, as will supply the room of the substantial accustomed full platters, to furnish the Table, though they be but as siphers in Augrime, to supply the number. Allow notwithstanding, that this kind of service doth satisfy and content them that are served, yet what shall answer the hungry appetites of the attendants that hath long fasted in hope of this reversion? Even the remain of these cold boiled meats, and made dishes, must satisfy their hungry appetites, which may well be called cold Commons: but after this latter dinner is ended, small are the broken meats that remain to relieve the poor. Nay further concerning their fare, they (like good Physicians) consider that change of choice dishes and several meats at one time may breed a surfeit, and all superfluity bringeth excess, and therefore they will draw their multitude of dishes into a less number, and content themselves only with two or three dishes at the most, with Fruit and Cheese after, to supply, if need require. Now, if they have but two or three dishes, What should they need so many Attendants? So wanting service wherein to employ them, there they cut off an other charge: this affords them a double benefit, it cuts off the charge of Men, and many dishes. But yet there remains one service, wherein they must employ more Men than the table's attendance requireth, that is, if their Mistress ride abroad, she must have vi or viii Servingmen to attend her, she must have one to carry her Cloak and Hood, lest it rain, an other her Fan, if she use it not herself, an other her Box with Ruffs and other necessaries, an other behind whom her Maid or Gentlewoman must ride, and some must be lose to open Gates, and supply other services that may be occasioned. Now to diminish and cut of this charge, aswell of Horse as Men, there is now a new invention, and that is, she must have a Coach, wherein she, with her Gentlewomen, Maid, and Children, and what necessaries as they or any of them are to use, may be carried and conveyed with smaller charge, less cost, and more credit, as it is accounted: for one or two Men at the most, besides the Coachman, are sufficient for a Gentlewoman or Lady of worthy parentage. Now at Board and abroad, if so few Servants may satisfy, and supply all the service that herein can be required, all the rest sure are su●●er●●acuum, and omne nimium vertitur in vitium, therefore, least by the maintenance of this superfluous charge, the superabundant number of Servingmen might grow vicious, and so blame worthy, these remedies before rehearsed were put in ure and use, so that hereby the number of this Company is much lessened and impaired.  
Now it should seem (in my judgement) that the lessening and diminishing of this consort of companions, should better their estate and calling: for the fewer that a Gentleman hath attending him, the better he may prefer them, being as able in worldly possessions as his ancestors, which maintained many more: But it falls out contrary, for their service was never so smally regarded and rewarded as now; and yet the number of them never so small.  
The Gentleman (I know) will thus answer for himself, that he is neither able to do so much for his men, nor to maintain his port & hospitality in so bountiful manner as h●●s ancestors in former ages: for his Father, or Grandfather, paid but twenty s. an Ox iii s. a Mutton, two. s. a Calf vi d. a Goose four d. a Capon ii d. a Hen, and ii d. a Pig, and for all other household provision the like rate. Now there is not any thing that belongs to housekeeping, but it is a triple charge over it was: and whereas one hundred pounds a year was a competent living to maintain good hospitality, now three hundred pound a year will not defray the charge of such a house, rateably proportioning all necessaries thereunto belonging, without exceeding his accustomed plenty. Now his living is not greater than was his ancestors, nor any Acre by tract of time enlarged: if the charge therefore grow thus double burdenous, by reason of the dearness of all kind of provision to that house keeping belonging, and his maintenance not any way augmented, How is it possible for him to maintain himself in statu quo prius? Now farmers speak for yourselves, for I hold you sufficient (though not learned) to answer this question, and decide this doubt.  
Me thinks I see them strive, who should speak first: free liberty is granted, therefore speak in order, and you shall all be heard.  
Marry than says one, Let me have the ten Acres at the old rent, and I will find you beeves for your house at twenty s. a piece. Says another, Let me have such a Farm as it went an hundred years since, and I will serve you Muttons at ii s. vi. d. the case. Well saith the third, Let me have your demesnes in such a place, for the rent your Grandfather let them, and I will find you all other household provision, for ordinary victuals, at the rate he paid: therefore, if your Housekeeping be more chargeable than it was, by the dearness of your diet, than your Lands yields you more profit than it did, by rearing the rent.  
Thus is the Landlords excuse answered with quid pro quo. But what may the poor Servant here object, and say for himself.  
In times past, I could have bought Cloth for ii s. the broad yard, an Hat for xii d. a Shirt for ten d. a pair of Boötes for ii s. and whatsoever other necessaries belonged me, at like rate: now I must pay three times dearer for any part of the said Apparel, and yet my Wages not more than my great grandfathers, supplying the same place and office I do. But it may be objected on the behalf of Masters, that my ancestor or predecessor could be content with corpse Kerchief, or countries Russet, for his Holiday garment, and you, with your fraternity, in these latter days, cannot be content to shape your Coat according to your Cloth, and your expenses according to your maintenance: but you, or the most of your consort, must in manner exceed your Masters in bravery, and costly fashionate Apparel. Turpe doctori cum culparedarguit ipsum, It is a shame for the Lawgiver to break and violate his own institutions.  
Trust me, I hold this excessive costly Apparel, a great cause why Gentlemen cannot maintain their wont and accustomed bounty and liberality in Hospitality & housekeeping: for when as the Mercer's book shall come, Item for so many yards of Cloth of Gold, of Silver, Velvet, Satin, Taffeta, or such like ware: the goldsmiths Debet, for Chains, Rings, jewels, Pearls, and precious Stones: the tailors Bill, so much for such a Suit of laced Satin, and such like superfluous charges, amounting in one year to more than the revenues of his Lands, the charge of housekeeping, and other necessaries undefrayde, How can he then chose but either make others Gentlemen by possessing his Inheritance, or else betake him to London, or some other Sanctuary, where he may live private so many years, as he is run overshooes, that debts thereby may be paid, and defects supplied. Which time thus spent in this private life, is so evil bestowed, as he can not make any account thereof to God, his Prince, or his Country, to whom he with his lands, living, possession, and worldly patrimony, is bound in several duties: for there is none but knoweth, that at their hands that hath much, much shallbe required.  
If a Gentleman have a competent living, that will maintain good Hospitality (which is, as I said before, the harbourer of two hopes, Praise and Prayers) and himself like a Gentleman, if he will not exceed his degree, all other superfluous charge laid a part, will bestow upon his own or his wives back in bravery of apparel half a year of his house-keepinges charge, the other half year must of necessity be maimed, pinched, and impaired, to the great hurt and hindrance of that duty which he is bound to perform by neighbourhood to his Country, and by charity to his poor brother.  
Concerning this costly and fashionate Apparel, I remember a notable example of a King of England (as it is said) that calling, upon occasion, certain of his Noblemen, and Peers of his Realm to the Court, whither when they came, one amongst the rest came very homely apparelled, in a jerken of Frieze, and a pair of bretches of countries Russet, and all his other apparel correspondent; his train and attendants were a hundred or six score proper and personable men, all well Horsed, and gallantly furnished at all points: this Nobleman thus attended, came to the Court, and doing his duty to his Prince and Sovereign, the King said unto him: My Lord, I cannot but commend your troop and train so well furnished, and yourself so worthily attended: but your own person to be appareled in so base and unseemly a suit, I cannot but highly discommend, for that it befitteth not a man of your estate, degree, and calling, but always to be appareled in costly, comely, decent, and handsome habit. Well my Liege and Sovereign, answered the Nobleman, What as is amiss, shallbe amended (God willing.) So going from the Court to his lodging, he seen presently his man to buy him a rich Gown of black Velvet, the sleeves thereof all beset with Aglets of Gold, a Velvet cap, with a Feather and a gold Band, very richly bordered about with Pearls and precious Stones of great value, a suit of Cloth-of-golde of the newest and richest fashion, his Girdle and Hangers richly embroidered and beset with costly Pearl, with all other his apparel no less stately and costly. Thus richly furnished, attended with only one Man and a Page, he makes his repair the next morning to the Court again, where when he had done his duty to the King: Yea marry my Lord, said the King, you are now like yourself, and as you should be: but where is your goodly train of Men and Horse, wherewith you were yesterday so gallantly guarded? If it may like your Grace, answered the good Earl, throwing down his Cap, Hear is twenty Men and twenty Horse: and throwing off his Gown, says, Hear lies forty Men and forty Horse more, with other the rest of his sumptuous Raiment at the like rate, saying, that all his Men and Horses, were turned into gorgeous Garments. Now saith he, if it like your Majesty that I should maintain myself in these Royal Robes to do your Grace service, only guarded with my Man and my Page, or that I should maintain my troop of Horse and Men, to do your Majesty service at home, or abroad against your Grace's foreign foes, or domestical Rebels (if any such shallbe) in my homely habit: Whether of these, as it shall please your Grace to command me, I am ready to obey: but my living is not able to perform them both. Now what answer he received from the King I know not, but if both could not be performed, than I persuade myself that none is so simple, but will prefer the Men and Horse, before the gorgeous Garments, both for the honour of the King, the credit of the Master, the safeguard of the Country, the common good for the weal public, and in all other respects whatsoever: But Tottenham is turned French, these Men and Horse are metamorphosed into Golden Garments, which makes Servingmen, yea and Men, so little set by, and so smally regarded: wherefore they may well both say & sing, 

In vain my eyes, in vain you wast your trickling tears,  
In vain my sighs, my sighs, and sobs of my despairs:  
In vain you search these troops of gallent men and horse,  
In vain you search, for painted plumes hath banished all remorse.   

The stately Towers decay, the Courts thereof grow green,  
No passage into Palace fair, where great resort hath been:  
The Hauls are now too large, the Tables are too long,  
The clouted shoes comes in so fast, they keep too great a throng.   

The Chargers now be changed, wherein men wont to eat,  
An old Fruit dish, is big enough to hold a joint of meat:  
A Salad, or a Sauce, to taste your eats withal,  
Some strange device to feed men's eyes, men's stomachs now be small.   

And where the Porter's lodge, did yield beef, bread and beer,  
The Kitchen, Haul, & Parlour to, now wants it twice a year:  
Now Servingmen may sing, adieu you golden days,  
Mere misery hath taken place, where plenty purchased praise.    
Thus you have heard, that the number of this profession, by this decay of Hospitality, is greatly lessened and diminished, and so consequently the state of the remain impaired: for what trade or occupation is best, there are commonly of the same most professors. But I will speak a word or two of the particular inconveniences that hath happened to this, at the first happy, but by tract of time, thrice unfortunate fraternity: hereby I mean by the decay of good housekeeping.  
First, whereas their pleasures were equal with their Masters, and their Masters took pleasure commonly in honest sports: now these their masters sports and pastimes, are either turned into covetousness, groping after worldly graith, or else into riotous spending their Patrimony in gay clothes, lascivious lewdness, extraordinary gaming, or such like; the godly mean, which is the heavenly harmony, is now banished these (I may say) inhuman coasts, and cannot be harboured in any of our Havens. Now the Servingman's pleasure, is turned into servile toil, and droiling drudgery, for since he hath no fellows but that are daily and hourly employed: and how? not in pleasure, as before, in haulking, hunting, fishing, and fowling, but in other business, he himself always riding and running about worldly business, or otherwise, as it shall please his Master to appoint: but I cannot, nor will not maintain argument against this, for, Otium est radix omnium malorum, Idleness is the root of all mischief. And if Servingmen should do no other service but as they were wont, and tie themselves to their ancient custom, than they should be altogether idle, because former employment is taken away. But it may be objected, You told us what marvels Servingmen merited at their masters hands in former ages: and why are not their deserts so well gratified in these latter days, as before? Marry for many respects, yet principally for two. First, they are for the most part, though not all, of a base metal than they were wont to be, and therefore the kind usage, and friendly familiarity that in former ages did link the Master and the Servant together, is now on the masters behalf had in utter contempt and disdain, in regard of their homely, rustic, and ungentlemanlike bringing up: which they regard as it is, and reward only with bare wages. covenants they keep and perform, as Artificers do with their Apprentices, & Workmen with their Labourers; but preferment over and above they get none: And why? Because their singularity in any of their services, is no such as can merit or deserve any thing above promise. Neither doth Masters now adays take any such pleasure in the qualities of their Men, as he can afford them a Farm for their feats, or a yearly Annuity for their skill in any of the seven liberal Sciences. Believe me, I speak as I think, If the wisdom of Solomon, the strength of Samson, the beauty of Absalon, the prows of Hercules, the eloquence of Cicero, the profound learning of wise Plato, and all the excellentest parts that can be named, were all comprehended in one man, and the same man would shroud himself in the habit of a Servingman, and profess the same by taking four Marks a year wages and a Livery, I verily believe his preferment should be rather a Remuneration, than a Guerdon, if he get any in this Leaden and last age. But what is the difference betwixt the Remuneration and the Guerdon, may some say, we would feign know? otherwise we can not tell how you mean this well qualitied Servingman's deserts should be rewarded. Your question is reasonable, and therefore I will distinguish them as their difference was told me, not long since by a friend of mine.  
There was, saith he, a man (but of what estate, degree, or calling, I will not name, lest thereby I might incur displeasure of any) that coming to his friends house, who was a Gentleman of good reckoning, and being there kindly entertained, and well used, as well of his friend the Gentleman, as of his Servants: one of the said Servants doing him some extraordinary pleasure during his abode there; at his departure he comes unto the said Servant, and saith unto him, Hold thee, here is a remuneration for thy pains, which the Servant receiving, gave him utterly for it (besides his pains) thanks, for it was but a Three-farthinges peer: and I hold thanks for the same a small price, howsoever the market goes. Now an other coming to the said Gentleman's house, it was the foresaid Servants good hap to be near him at his going away, who calling the Servant unto him, said, Hold thee, here is a Guerdon for thy defartes: Now the Servant paid no d●●ere●● for the Guerdon than he did for the Remuneration, though the Guerdon was xi. d. farthing better, for it was a Shilling, and the other but a Three-farthinges. Therefore, I say as I said before, the man of best quality in these days, if he be a Servingman by profession, shallbe as slenderly rewarded for his service, as the mome of no merit, that hath no parts at all in him worthy commendation.  
Now for the other reason, why servingmen deserts are not rewarded in these days, as they were wont in former ages: It is, because Gentlemen nowadays have more use of their Land & Living, their Kine and Coin, their Rents and Revenues, their Silver and Gold, and all other their worldly Treasure, than they were wont to have: for in times before they had so much (many of them) as they bestowed Lands, livings, Rents, and Revenues, vainly and ceremoniously upon Friars, Monks, Abbots, Cannons, and pelting popish Priests: And to what end? Even that they, and their ●●rue, might pray that their souls might pass Purgatory with less penance than they would willingly endure. But now they find other use for it, then either to bestow it upon such momysh Massmongers, or any of it upon them that better deserve it, their own Men.  
What say they, if a Servingman for long and dutiful service, request the Lease of a Farm at the old rent, or some other preferment? Was my Living left me to bestow upon my Men? or, to divide amongst my Children? Why do I give you wages, but in regard of your service? If you like not me nor my wages, you may provide for yourself when you will, I will not be your hindrance; not weighing and considering, that that his wages is not able to find his Man necessaries from the middle down: but I dare not speak what I think, neither what might be spoken, concerning wages in these days. But why is the Gentleman so peremptory and resolute at his Man's reasonable request? Marry, because he knoweth where to have a Man fit for his purpose, that will stand him in less charge; and therefore Servingmen are not rewarded as they were wont, because Gentlemen nowadays cannot spare any preferment to bestow upon them. But what is this fellow that is fit for his purpose? and will stand him in less charge, expecting no preferment at all at his hands, no not so much commonly as Wages? It is (as I said before) his neighbour's Son, who will not only maintain himself with all necessaries, but also his father will gratify his masters kindness at Christmas with a Newyears gift, and at other Festival times with Pig, Goose, Capon, or other such like household provision. And why will the good old Yeoman be at all this charge, since his son would otherwise earn him much more profit, and do him much more pleasure? Why? Marry, because his Son shallbe sure to keep the Cat from the tongues at home, when other his neighbour's children shall trudge into France, Flaunders, and other Nations, to do their Prince and Country service. But if it would please God of his goodness, to send us peace and quietness, that our gracious Sovereign (whom God preserve long amongst us, to his blessed will and pleasure) should have no use of warlike provision at home nor abroad, and consequently the Yeoman no use of this the Gentleman's goodwill and pleasure, you should see these new upstart Servingmen flock to their old haunt, as the Emmets in the beginning of Summer do congregate themselves together, to labour while Summer lasts, for fear of Winter's penury.  
Now if this Man, I say (as I said before) my neighbour's son, can at one and twenty, or two and twenty years supply the place of a Servingman, and discharge that duty as well as he that hath been trained up in service from his childhood, and will take upon him that trade, without expecting either present gain, or future preferment for his service at his masters hands: what need then the Gentleman give wages and preferment to a Servingman, if he may have these of so free cost? But I say it is pity that God hath lent that man his five Senses, and all other his bodily members that belongs to the sufficient furnishing of a whole man, that bestows his talon so evil, & so slothfully labours in his vocation, as he cannot with all his endeavours get meat to his belly, nor clothes to his back, as these do that bestows even the best time of all their years in the service of Gentlemen. But this decay of Hospitality, hath bred a far greater mischief amongst Servingmen than this: For now every Gentleman almost, hath gotten such a rabble of retainers, as makes poor household servants so smally set by as they are. For what cares a Gentleman now adays, to knave & rascal his Man at every word? And if his Man (as flesh and blood many times cannot endure to be 〈◊〉 inhumanly entreated) shall scorn these ungentlemanlike terms, and think much for so small a cause, as many times they are, to be so hardly used: then off goes the Lyverie-coate, or Cloak, and pack out of my doors you arrant knave, I will have your betters to bear more than this at my hands. Thus is the poor Servingman turned out of his Lyverie, & out of doors, having but a bare quarters warning, but not that quarter that is allowed them by the Statute made for Servants, in Quinto of her majesty's reign, which is a quarter of a year, but scarce a quarter of an hour, to pack up such apparel as he hath.  
But what is the cause that the Gentleman cares so little for his Man, though he be never so painful, honest, diligent, and dutiful a Servant? What? marry this, because he can have, if he send for such a retainer, to ride with him, or run for him, or do any service he hath to command him, till such time as he shallbe provided of another. But poor Servingman, what shall he do? if he be far from his friends, and have small acquaintance there where he dwelled? Poor soul, I hold him to be in much worse case than the impotent Beggar, that procureth the Town-seal, with certain of his neighbour's hands, where he hath been three years last resident, to beg within the limits of such hundreds, by virtue of the Statute made in Vicessimo secundo of our late dread Sovereign, that worthy Prince of famous memory, King Henry the eight, for the relief of the poor: for the one hath free liberty to pass from Town to Town, without let, molestation, or hindrance, using himself honestly: and the other shallbe accounted as a Rogue, and sent to jail, being Masterless, for wandering abroad without a Licence.  
Now the miserable neediness of housekeeping was the first founder, begetter, and raiser of this retainer. For if a Gentleman nowadays, could be content to give Meat, Drink, Wages, and Lyverie, as his forefather did, to so many men as he had any employment for, What need he then have any retainers? And if the Gentleman will plead inability, that he is not able by his living to maintain so many in household as his father did, though his degree and calling require no less countenance: then let him be content to carry so much a lower sail, and grind as his wind will give him leave, carry that port, credit, and countenance in his Country, as his living will afford him maynteinance. I will not say what I could say concerning these retainers, since the worthy Laws and Statutes of this Realm hath prepared, constituted, and ordained, pecuniary punishments for the offenders herein, if they might be duly put in execution: But, Quod supra nos, nihil ad nos, What hath joan to do with my Lady, or I with execution of Laws or Statutes, that is neither Constable nor Borshoulder of Town nor Hundred? But I wish well to all, and would not willingly incur displeasure of any, and crave pardon if in any thing I have passed my bounds, or been too bold. But to return again to my poor masterless, and Lyverylesse, nay Lyverlesse and Heartless brother in Christ, What shall he do being thus Masterless, moneyless, & friendless, having lost his Master and maynteynance both at one instance? What, shall he beg? no, he wants his Testimonial. Liberality is dead, as I told you before, and no body will give him any thing, because he is able to work. What then, shall he work? Alas, he can not earn salt to his pottage, for he hath not been trained to any bodily labour: and if he would or could, yet no body will set him a work, because they know him not: and if they knew him, yet they will not, for they have Townsmen labourers enough, to do what work they have. What shall he then do? Shall he make his appearance at Gaddes hill, Shooter's hiil, Salisbury plain, or Newmarket heath, to sit in Commission, and examine passengers? Not so, for then, if he mistake but a word, Stand, for Goodmorow, he shall strait, whereas he did attend, be attended with more men than his Master kept, and preferred to a better house than ever his father builded for him, though not so wholesome. What rests then, shall he starve? No, no, Ferrum frangit necessitas, Hunger breaks stone walls, necessity hath no Law: and yet necessity urgeth him to do some of these, to work or steal: to work if he could have it, I hold well withal: but to steal, or starve, are two hard choices. And woe, woe, and thrice woe be to him that is driven to either of them, as God wots many of these poor Servingmen be in this Leaden and last age.  
O who would be a Servingman, to hazard to fall into this detestable danger, and be driven into these extremities? even into all the penury, beggary, scarcity, and mere misery, that may befall any human creature: nay when they are in their greatest prosperity, and had in highest esteem, yet they are even then the most contemned and despised company that lives in this human society. For what doth a Gentleman now adays care more for his Man, then to serve his present turn? No, no more for him then he doth for his Dog or his Horse, who while they can do him service, he is content to allow them meat, and other necessaries: But when the Horse falls blind or lame, knock him in the head: when the Dog grows so old as he can do nothing but lie by the fire, cut his throat, what is he good for, but to spend victuals: and the Servingman, when the Summer of his years are spent, and that crooked old age hath summoned him to make her many low courtesies, with bended knees, so as he is not able now by his service to earn oatmeal for his Pottage, than off goes his shoes, and he is turned to the Common, inpasture is too good for him, for who would keep one to do nothing, and bread so dear? Thus much doth his Master regard him when he is able to do him no more service.  
Again, if this honest minded Servingman doth enter into consideration of his estate, and would willingly by some honest means provide that he might live in time to come like a man, and so fiends a loving look to some Yeoman or countryman's daughter, whose Father he thinks will bestow upon her some reasonable portion, that with good husbandry may maintain them both neighbourlike: then upon some good liking of both the parties, he comes to the Father & Mother of the Maid, to crave their good wills in the matter. What then? says the Father, shall I bestow my Daughter upon a Gentleman, forsooth, that wants living, and cannot work? On a Servingman, on a beggar? No, I am not yet so weary of my Daughter, as I would see her stand need of an alms: no no, I pray you provide for yourself otherwise, for my Daughter is not, nor shall not be a pray for your paws. Then it comes to the ears of my neighbour's kinsmen & friends, that my neighbour jenkingsons' daughter shall have M. what call you-hims man: then they begin to gabble amongst themselves. What, shall joan have a Servingman? is her father so mad as he will marry her to a Servingman? What to a Servingman says one? To a Servingman says another? he neither hath any thing, nor can earn any thing. How will they live, says one? How will they live says another? Marry merrily, till his wives portion be spent, and then will he be gone, and play least in sight. Me thinks he might remember the old saying: A Baker's wife may bite of a Bun, a Brewer's wife may drink of a Tun, and a Fyshmongers' wife may feed of a Cunger, but a Servingman's wife may starve for hunger.  
Thus uncharitably do they all judge of the poor Servingman. What estate, degree, or calling, can then be more miserable, than the profession of a Servingman? Hear to day, and gone to morrow. In good credit with his Master at noon, and jacke out of office before night. It was not for nothing that a good fellow, and friend of mine, a Servingman, told me he never made his Bed before he went to it; for, saith he, I know not in the morning, whether I shall lie in it at night or no, and therefore I will be sure my Master shall not owe me a bed making.  
And thus you see, gentle Reader, the estate, degree, calling, and profession, of every poor Servingman, in these latter days, to be more wavering and unconstant, then Winter's weather, women's thoughts, or Fortune's wheel, that never rests rolling and turning about, in all things mutable, but mutability.  
Thus courtuous Reader, I have set down, according to my small judgement herein, to what end this fraternity of Servingmen was at the first ordained, and of what metal they were made. I have also declared how flourishing was the prime of their profession, and what estate, credit, and countenance, they lived in, in former ages, even till Vltima linea vitae. And thirdly and lastly, into what penury, scarcity, beggary, mere misery, and utter ruin, subversion, and contempt, this ancient building is fallen into, in this leaden, latter, and last age. Whose fall, I earnestly lament and bewail, willing (if any way I could) to procure a salve for this incurable disease: But, since I cannot, I will pray even Ab intimo cord, from the bottom of my heart, that this company of Servingmen, may either be better rewarded for their service, and better esteemed of amongst their superiors, equals, and inferiors; or else, that none of my friends, or well-willers, do take upon them this trade and profession: (though for my own part I cannot speak any thing of this, by my own experience, as having tasted my self the gall of this bitter-sweet: for ever since I was a Servingman, I have received the full measure of my deserts at my masters hands) lest they should fall into the before rehearsed inconveniences, which are very incident generally to the professors of this calling.  
FINIS.