A Quest of Enquirie, by women to know, Whether the Tripewife were trimmed by Doll yea or no.  
Gathered by Oliver Oatmeal.  
Imprinted at London by T. G. and are to be sold in Paul's Churchyard. 1595.   

Oliver, if your name be Oliver, by your leave a cast, for I must show in between the door and the wall, that is shuffle a letter in between your title and Pamphlets which Letter was directed to be let at the two fools at London bridge: and for my heart I cannot find the sign. Now since your Pamphlet lacks both a Pass and a Patron, I think this letter will fit ye for either, and by wandering among many, happen at length into the right owner's hands. It follows at adventure. 
To Simon Huff-snuff the terrible Book-tearer, & furious d-facer of the Tripe-wives effigies, peace offered with cap and knee, to preserve all papers from like extremity.   
HAught minded, and hot spirited Simon, I salute ye. Understanding your valorous assaults against The Tricking of the Tripewife, in sundry places: I could but commend your forwardness: and praise your adussed opinion upon the first sight, both of the Author that made it, and of them that never heard of it before yourself: 'twas well done, you shall find Castalian of my mind, that of such swift censurers hath this sentence: 
A fools bolt is soon shot,  
Adpenitendum proper at, cito qui indicat.   
Tut, what tell I you of repentance, proceed, proceed, your neighbour Nichol and you may answer any thing you do. By your leave sir a little: and while I talk, have some patience, glare not with your eyes, foam not at the mouth, strike not with your fists, stamp not with your feet: I will reason reasonably upon my honesty, & yet I care not if I leave argument, and use example.  
A acquaint fellow grown fortunate: excelling as he thinks both in wealth and wisdom all his other rivals, forges to himself an imaginary concept, that they envying his good, intent to have public jests at him and his late won wife. The most of them whose good fortunes it was to lose (as it had been great pity to part so loving a couple) are most Scholarlike Gentlemen, and one of them generally beloved of act that in printing have experience to publish any thing, & at this time is possessed of a worshipful place, according to the laudable customs of this honourable City. Now which way in your opinion is best to prevent the writing or publishing of any odd toy: shall he reconcile himself to those that were the quondam suitors, & give good words, because his widow hath been notoriously ridiculous: Or shall be run up and down the town, with frisks, and heighs, and fillops, and tricks, accompanied with some such wiseacres as himself, (Be not offended Simon, though you be his companion) reviling his betters, and abusing his equals. The example needs no application: and for answer your neighbour Nichol took this last course. For I have heard him that tricked the Tripe wife swear, till her husband abused him, and yourself consorting with Nick Tricks misused his whole company, the Masters especially, one of them in kindness and reverence that honourable name ye used, vouchsafing both to accompany and counsel you for your own good: whose good will you reward with reproaches: but they that touch pitch shall be settled, and those that pleasure ingrateful persons unthankfully required. He protests before God, that the Masters of his Company, are utterly ignorant of his proceed, and for aught he knoweth are at him offended. He appeals to all the worshipful Companies in London, especially to those of whom yourselves are free, whether ye have not done the parts of intemperate idiots, to abuse men in authority without cause: and protests, had he been but a water man, as he is a professor of the most noble Science of Printing, he wound not have suffered the abuse of his supertors. He repenteth not any thing that he hath written, but is only sorry that he is by an honourable parsonage mistaken: but doubteth not shortly to prove how you have abused one very near him. He swears that where he hath been a mortal enime to all Ballad singers, he will never invaigh against them more, if they will sing at pour windows a new Tigge, termed Any Tripes. Consider neighbour Simon the contents, to waste paper be pitiful, and learn patience: keep a good tongue in your head, lest it hurt your teeth. Farewell Sim, and commend me to your everthwart neighbour.  
Yours to use, when ye know how to use yourself. D. D.   

An Eglogue lovingly begun and unluckily ended between the Tripewife, and Tricks her husband.  

Tricks.  
Sat we sweet Souse wife on this frail of figs,  
So spite of those that dou our fortune's hate:  
Sleting at us with Ballads and with ligs,  
Enough to make kind love unkind debate,   

And while we carol of our discontent,  
With strained notes, like screech owls yokesome cire,  
The roaring river unto our lament  
Shall lend her loud confused harmony.   

Tripewife,  
Ahwere we seated in a sowce-tubs shade,  
Over our beads of tripes a canopy:  
Remembrance of my past ioy-thruing trade,  
Would somewhat case my present misery,   

But since I trotted from my trotter stall,  
And figd about from neats feet neatly dressed:  
I find no pleasure nor content at all,  
But live disdained, despised, abused, distressed.   

Tricks.  
Why here are sweets, sweet Love, for sent and taste,  
Fruit from the straits, Spain, Candie, Barbary,  
Indian Tobacco, humours moist to waste,  
Thou know'st I have a pipe for thee and me.   

Succades and comfits, barts help cinnamon:  
Pepper cold in the maw, hot on the tongue:  
Seny to purge, health keeping Balsamum,  
And Mace, to make thy vizard smooth and young.   

Tripewife.  
Out upon all this trash, your drugs, your spice,  
'tTwere well if I had never seen your house:  
You tear me my visage vizard, goodman vice:  
But I was young, fair, neat, when I sold sowse.   

Tricks.  
Thy tripes were young, thy neats fet fat and fair,  
Thy sowse was sweet, and all these longed to thee:  
Thyself wert withered, old, lean, meager, bare,  
Yet thou and they were both beloved of me.   

But neither thou nor they may make compare  
With me or mine, therefore contend no more:  
The Butchers offals were thy sweetest ware,  
Mine, of far Kingdoms are the wealthy store.   

Tripewife.  
Accursed was I to leave the Butcher's fees,  
How base so ere, they brought in golden gain,  
The mistress Tripe-wines name by thee I lose:  
That loss, their lack, I ceaseless do complain.   

Tricks.  
Accursed was I to baunt the pudding house,  
Where swine faced beauty only sat in pride:  
Cursed be the chitterlings, the tripe, the sowse,  
And cursed myself that did not all deride.   

Tripewife.  
What dost thou curse my trade? be this thy pain:  
Run bootless madding, raving up and down:  
All helplessly 'gainst jigging rhymes complain,  
Let every Ballad-singer bear thee down.   

Tricks.  
sayst thou me so, thou Tripe, thou hated scorn?  
Go swill thy sowse-tubs, loathed pudding-wife:  
My brother Huf snuff and myself have sworn,  
Spite of thy ears to lead a pleasant life.   

With this they part: and so the Eglogue ended,  
Tripe was with Tricks, and Tricks with Tripe offended.    

A Quest of inquiry of twelve good, honest, and substantial women, upon examination of certain persons, whether the Tripe wife were trimmeth or no.  
IS it even so neighbour Nicholson; now in good sadness I am sorry for your mishap, that a marriage accomplished so hastily, should be repent so suddenly. Ye man, keep your own counsel, and fear not, all will be well enough I warrant ye. You allege in your letters, what a blemish it is to your credit, and withal, what an inward vexation of mind you are perplexed withal, when your friends cast in your teeth your marriage with the Tripewife, what a beastly filthy slut she hath been, and still is, without any hope other amendment. Yet all this is not so grievous to ye, as the bad reports that fly abroad of her, that not contenting herself to be cozened by a notable drab, she must afterward, or at the same instant, be trimmeth by that new upstart Barbar, who instead of Sissers, was glad to use a pair of shears, and for want of a chair, such as men use to sit in when they are trimmeth, she must advance one foot upon a Trevet, and make the other leg standing foolishly by accessary to the others intolerable folly. O world of iniquity, where are women's wits: that make no difference between their own secrets, and a Cow heel or a Tripe, and because their education hath only been to dressing the one, therefore they must needs make a trial of trimming the other.  
For your sake good neighbour, pitying your daily vexation, and according to my promise when we met last at Ratcliff: I went to the place you wots of, where (though it was somewhat to my cost, yet nothing is over dear in regard of a friend) I made means to get in, even so soon as the Quest of women were newly called together, and before any of the persons to be examined were admitted to answer. When seeing how orderly they intended to proceed, and that hereby a perfect resolution might ensue both for myself and you: I drew forth my writing Cables, and getting close into a corner noted down every thing so secre as I could, which now written more at large, then in so small a room I could comprise, I have sent ye by my servant William, who hath further instruction beside to acquaint ye with, whereof I desire ye to have an especial care.  
First, Margaret, not your wife's daughter, but a by-blow (as is imagined) of your predecessors, was called before the women.  
Then mother Messingham, the old true penny for trimming of a Tripe, than Alice and jone: William should have been there, but was not, marry Richard very honestly came in, and defended the cause very substantially, so did Mistress Rose, and the party with the gold Ring on the forefinger. The intergatories for examination, were these that follow.  
1 Imprimis, whether such a woman, named Doll Phillips, came to the dwelling house of the Tripe wife at such a time, naming the month and day.  
2 Secondly, what talk they had beneath together, and whether she brought with her a letter or etc.  
3 Thirdly, who went up the stairs with them, whether any body, or themselves alone.  
4 Fourthly, how long they tarried above together, and whether any shears were called for or no, or whether they had them ready above in the Chamber.  
5 Fiftly, whether they knew them to be used or no, for taking away of hair from her head, or the other unseemly place.  
6 Sixthy, whether the Tripe wife had so many suitors as Doll speaks of, to the number of nineteen or no.  
7 seventhly, whether they knew the man that had been so bold with the Tripe wife, that threw her on the bed, kill her, and did, or would have done aliquid amplius, because he was the furthest in her books.  
8 Eightly, whether the Capon and Curkie (by any of their knowledge) was sent to the King and Queen of Fairs or no.  
Other questions were demanded afterward, but not with such urgency as these, because you know these were most material, and (as the case stood) were most necessary to be known: yet will I tell ye what the other were, when I come to speak of them as they happened.  
Margaret stood laughing, holding her hand before her month all the while the articles were read, whereupon, one of the women sharply reproved her after this manner. What Margaret, maid (if ye be) ye show small civility, regard ye not where ye are? you imagine be like, that ye are in the Queen's head in Pater noster row: ye made a wise nights work there, did ye not, when (about you) a man was stabbed so far into the back, fie for shame, be more modest, else this (and your other tricks) will utterly mar your marriage, if ye live to be worthy of so honourable a calling.  
The woman had no sooner uttered these speeches, but Margaret blushing (for she hath a little grace yet left her) stood very demurely, making courtesy at every word, and promised to answer every article truly, according to her knowledge, and thus she began.  
Upon the day you name, she whom you term Doll Philip's, came to my mother's house, in the habit of a country woman, saying she was sent from one master Grace in Essex, a Gentleman professing the law, and a very familiar friend of my mothers, for whose sake she was the better welcome, and much talk passed between my mother and her, because she showed herself so perfectly acquainted with Master Grace. A letter she brought indeed, which being read, she told my mother, that she had more weighty matters to confer with her on, which made my mother take her up the stairs with her, not admitting any but themselves to go with them. The time of their tarriance there, was not above three quarters of an hour at the uttermost in all which space I heard no Shears called for neither were any carted up to them, nor know I whether any were above in the Chamber or no.  
Now concerning your demand for usage of the Shears, truly I am persuaded it is utterly untrue, and only rumoured abroad to defame my mother. For though she was desirous to have the spurrialles that were lost, and which I have often times seen when my father was alive: yet I have a better opinion of my mother then so, that she would not grant to enjoy than by any such a bad mean. Yet age now a days in these latter days, shows themselves so simple oftentimes, that one can hardly answer for them in matters of more importance, therefore I refer ye in this case to old mother Messingham, she hath been most inward with my mother, and therefore in such a doubtful cause can best resolve ye.  
That she had nineteen wooers, I am not able to stand directly upon the just number, but questionless I imagine she had (from the beginning of her widdowhead) rather more than one fewer, for I tell ye, my father left her that which made her looked after, and not so much but old Saunders the Sergeant, became a lusty suitor to her: but never I think was widow so washed in sack, Sugar, and good drinks, I warrant there are some that yet sit and think on their lavish expenses, for my mother was outwardly kind to all, but inwardly inclined to think well of no one, for if she could not deeply dissemble, there are liars abroad, but I name no body, in regard she may now make amends for that fault.  
Now that there was one more special in her favour then all the rest, we in the house have diverse times imagined somewhat, marry could never perceive any outward token to be noted: but the woman who pretended cunning to her, threw forth very unmannerly speeches of the matter that under Oath (as it were) she disclosed the man to her, which if she did, she was not so wise as I took her for: myself am but a young wench, and yet if I intended to bestow such a token of my favour on any one, mine own mouth should never be the trumpet of my shame, but rather as I had offended fondly, it should be locked in my bosom the more secretly, for let the world imagine what they list, when they know nothing, I have both the wind and water side of them.  
As for sending the Capon and Turkey to the King and Queen of Fairies, that's best known to Doll and my mother, for the match was closely made between themselves, and whether on any such condition or no, I am not able to say: but sure I am our maid carried them with her, and delivered them to the woman, ere they came half way to the king of Fairies house, for they say his dwelling is at Paddington, and the maid was discharged of her burden in high Holborn.  
This is all I can deliver good women, and (upon my maidenhead) I have told ye as much in these matters as I am able to say: for I had more mind of other businesses for myself, then either to regard my mother's cozenage or wooing.  
Call in mother Messingham (quoth the Crier) and she will resolve ye thoroughly in these running affairs.  
She being come before the Quest, whimpering and making courtesies down to the ground at every word: desired she might be no accuser of her good old mistress, for she knew nothing in these matters, and therefore could say little, but being commanded to proceed in the Articles, she pleaded ignorance to all but one, and the knowledge she had in that one was but by bare report neither, therefore (quoth she) build not upon the truth of my words, for I received them at the second hand, and few things (ye know) are mended in the carriage. It is (quoth she) concerning her number of suitors whereof I am to speak, and which of them received most assurance of her kindness: then thus (after Dolls own words) will I tell ye what I heard.  
When the cozening Drab had persuaded my mistress, that she could help her not only to the gold known to be lost, but a great deal more said to be had in the house: she demanded such a request as hath been spoken of, for by the help thereof she must effect the conjuration, otherwise she was not able to proceed any further: but by the fatth of an old woman, I think no such conference passed between them, at least I am sure my mistress swears the contrary, and I tell ye I will not distrust her words for more than she is worth.  
Come mistress (saith Doll) I know one kissed ye on Christmas Eve last passed, when your hat fell into the Sowsetub, I know ye gave a good fellow a Ring, with seven Diamonds in it, and the Ring I likewise know ye have this day received again: so, albeit I am able to say who the man is you do most affection, and can tell therein perhaps more than you imagine: yet must you yourself reveal his name to me, how he kissed ye at the bed's side, untied your hosegarter, and elected ye for his own with the best testimony of good will.  
She saith, that my mistress resolved her in all these, which if she did, (as I will never imagine her so simple, or that at any time she would make so slender reckoning of her reputation:) I must needs blame her folly and great indiscretion, which doubles the penalty of the offence so carelessly committed.  
Thus much I will confess good women, that my mistress had good store of suitors, among whom were divers of good credit & esteem, whose purses launch out liberally, and nothing was reputed too dear or dainty for the widow: but that I saw ill demeanour offered in any one of them, or any such wanton humour in my mistress, I neither can or will say for all the world's good.  
Many have been falsely charged with matters, as now perhaps my mistress is at this time: but I leave all to him to censure, that knows best whether these reports are true or no, and so take this as the uttermost of my knowledge.  
The rest being examined, and able to say little or nothing to the articles, the women went alone by themselves a while, and finding every thing so apparent, that they were not long to be stood upon: they returned that the Tripe wife was never trimmeth, yet to prevent the worst which afterwards might ensue, and as women that would not endanger their credits, they wrote down upon their bill Ignoramus, whereupon, the sentence was delivered in this manner.  
First, because the Tripe wife had failen into this wonderful oversight, and thereby had run into so many hard opinions: all her other suitors (ashamed of their former foolish affection, to fancy such an inconstant woman, of so dirty a trade, and in so stinking a place) utterly giving her over: she should thence be sent to London bridge, and there be married to him, that had more than a months mind to Tripes and Trillabubs.  
Lord how glad was I, when I heard the game go on your side, when I remembered what a tall servitor you had been all her wooing time for her: your hard fortune at M. Graces. where you had so slender entertainment, how you walked in your jerkin and tawny velvet hose, to view M. Hubbards' hops, when by that means you got a bidding to dinner, yea even the best place at the board, namely, to sit just before your loving mistress, where all amorous discourse was feign to pass between ye in the Cup, for further liberty ye were not admitted. But above all, I commend your short and sweet instruction given her at the window, punching her by the finger, and bidding her look to herself, for she was in danger to be swine away, and all your market marred. And in faith the merríe night at Cpping was worth gramercy, when the Gentleman your rival supped in your company, and had a priest ready, if need should so require. Believe me neighbour, you had great reason then to be afraid: yet more than Hercules-like, you valiantly held out, in despite of Philastorgogh, the bottle of Sack, and all Richard's words, which renowns ye to posterity, for an unconquerable wooer, and verifies on your behalf that ancient verse, 
He loved Tripes as his life,  
Therefore he hath the Tripewife.   
Oh that I were acquainted with some excellent wit, who in liveliest colours could decipher down your heroical fortunes.  

My style is all to blunt and bad,  
To write of such an active lad,  
That brought the wooers all to bay,  
And carried the Tripe wife quite away.   
Thus have I sent ye all the proceed of the Jury, and there with (according to your request) my opinion of thy blessed night, when you made such passage to the purpose, as the next morning you had the fruition of all your labores, I mean the Garland of your briding day, to the disgrace of all the other 〈◊〉, and your own eternal commendation for ever. But first I pray ye read this Duty, which was devised by a dear friend of yours, Master jeffray Kexon, in defence of your wife so much wronged, and in applauding of your rare conquest, the like being never heard of since the great Conquest.   

A jig for the Ballad-mongers to sing fresh and fasting, next their hearts every morning, in stead of a new hunts-up, to give a good morrow to the Tripewife.  

O Neighbour Tripewife, my heart is full of woe:  
That cozening Doll the juggler, should jumble with you so,  
I that am your poor neighbour, bade rather spent a crown:  
Than have ye thus defamed by boys about the town.   

Abroad in every corner, the Ballads do report:  
That you were trimmed unwomanly, and in most shameful sort:  
By standing on a Trivet.   

to he are what she could say:  
She lopped ye of a lovers lock, and carried it away.   

Alas were you so simple, to suffer such a thing:  
Your own maids sit and mock ye, and every where doth ring,  
The trimming of the Tripe wife, it makes me in a rage:  
And doubt least that the players will sing item the Stage.   

I am sorry for your husband, a ●●●ke good honest man;  
He walks about, yet mends not, but looketh pale and wan:  
That where before he vaunted, the conquest he hath got:  
He sus now in a mammering, as one that minds it not.   

A number do imagine, that he reputes his marriage,  
And gladly to the shambles, would send ye with your carriage;  
For all the carts of household-stuff, that came to London bridge,  
Near pleased him so, as this one grief doth rub him on the ridge.   

If gold bring such a hart-breaks,  
I'll none I thank ye I:  
'tis shame it should be spoken,  
and if it be a lie.  
But would he be advised by me,  
if it be true or no:  
I would turn her tober Tripes again  
and let all matters go.   
I. K.  
FINIS.   

Now all good Lads, to whose reading this present Jig shall come, I would not have ye mistake my meaning in the Song, that ye should go about the streets singing it, or chant it at her door, ere she be by in a morning, No, God forbidden, that would but breed domestical disquietness, and if man and wife should happen to fall out about it, I (not knowing how near the Tripe tub stands) might bring him in more danger of Can shot then I am aware of. Therefore I pray ye conceit it after my own intending, that is, a Sorrowful Sonnet for every friend of his to meditate on least their fortunes should prove so monstrous as his and they run into peril of hanging themselves, upon so extraordinary a conclusion.  

Hear followeth the rare achievement of the widow, from her house behind the Shambles, how she was conveyed thence to London Bridge, and made a Bride upon a very short warning.  
Yea marry Sir, now ye come to the matter I long to hear of, by reason of the divers reports bruited abroad thereof, and whether it were so heroycally acted, as some have heard it from his own lips. Was it possible, that she (having such honest well willers and friends, at home at her house at dinner) could choose no other time to slip away, but even at such a time, thereby to discredit herself? Was her coloured excuse to buy a bat and an apron, and falls it now out so that she bought a husband? O World full of falsehood, O women most deceitful, when ye are least suspected. But went she then directly to the Bridge or no? No, she went not then thither, but one of her Sisters, counterfeiting a sudden sickness, the other (being the fatter of the twain) was made the instrument of fetching her to an intended Banquet: where wine walking lustily about, and many merry matters familiarly disputed on, it was set down for an irrevocable determination, that no remedy, the Tripewife must dine next day at her lovers house. But it is wonderful to speak on, with what zeal she paced thither, her apron in her hand all the way, which she had not so much leisure as to put on, but looked still behind her, lest she should be caught up for weight and fashion. We, as any kind heart in like case would do, doubting her coming, because she had so often dissembled with others, trudges to her house: but happy did he esteem that lost labour, when at his return back again he found her where he would have her.  
Now the Sisters lay on load for him, because he had promised them large requital: and how the time was wasted in conference, I know not, but well I wots, home he would not let her go that night, for now he had her at such an advatantage, as he never expected the like, if he should now let her scape.  
But in good sadness they are much to blame, that say they whittled her with wine, and so (after some other ceremonies thereto belonging) drew a promise of marriage from her. It is very unlike it should be so, because that night before she went to bed, she protested she would none of him. Oh, but the old dog beide sure: and though the man himself were somewhat timorous, yet by good instructions he began to cheer up his spirits.  
Now you that be lovers tell me whether it were hot sign of love or no, when the Widow (sitching asleep by the fire) he valiantly (coming behind her) pulled her stool from her, when down fell she, and lie by or upon her, with that learned and witty adverb in his mouth, Keep the widow waking. Well, I know not whether these words are able to enhaunt or no, or what strength or vigour the manly acting of them hath: but either through them, or her late sitting up that night she took such a surfeit, that needs she must to bed. And yet me thinks that labour might full well have been spared, because she had so little while to rest herself: and rising again so early, it might bring many a qualm over a wiser woman's stomach than hers.  
But would you imagine, a woman of her tender years, little above three score at the uttermost not daring, to adventure on the water in the broad day light, could so suddenly conceive such a hardy piece of courage, as sooner-timely in a morning, to pass through his cellar, and so enter a boat lying ready for her, to sail so far as Pepper Alley, and there to S. George's Church: where because the Church man was not ready, she must needs pass a larger circuit. But I can tell ye wherefore that was: marry to stop their mouths, that said she durst not be married by daylight, therefore she despised two a clock in the morning: A fig for them that dare not be married at ten a clock in the forenoon, and afterward home to dinner of her own provison, brought thither the day before. Here was a cunning bob for the rest. Call ye him a fool or a simple fellow, that had the wit to compass such an exploit: Well masters, sit you at the upper end of the table, kiss and snowtch the Widow never so much: there is one sits neither most, he hath an eye to his business, and whatsoever you but barely hope for, he is the man I tell ye, must carry the wench away.  
Oh, but well far the friend that made such haste for the licence: few wooers are beholding to such a dear Damon, And not at that time only did he stand him in some stead, but in the country likewise he stuck closely to him. If he reward him not well for his pains, he is very much too blame: for both his countenance and credit were no mean helps to him. Hold him then the best string to your bow (Neighbour) in getting the Tripewife.  
Thus have I been as good as my word unto you, my very kind and honest Neighbour, in sending you this brief collection of your adventures: nor know I how to extol sufficiently your great deservings, though iniquity of time somewhat obscure your valour, reproach fully throwing this bone for you to gnaw on, that had your labour been bestowed in better sort, than for a basket of Tripes and Chutterlings: some one or other would have spoken to our Antiquary, to have written four lines at the least in praise of your passing proceeding. But seeing it is no better,  

Give losers leave to prate their fill,  
The Tripes are thine both good and ill.  
What others say, take thou no care,  
Puddings and Tripes are chapmens ware.     

Certain reports spread abroad of the Tripewife and her late married husband, whereby if they be slandered or no, let themselves be their own judges.  
FIrst for the Tripewife, that all the time of her widowhood, her lips were so common in kissing every one, and her hands so ready in receiving all gifts whatsoever, terming each suitor husband, and making so little difference in outward kindness, that either she imagined she might have many husbands, or dissemblingly thought to use all alike. A fault, wherein if she were guilty, as it is credibly reported, doubtless it deserveth general reproof, and no mild censure of her very dearest friends.  
That likewise she was very wanton given, often desiring like them long kept fasting, the loving morsel of a man. And to show her folly the more in this one point, I have heard, that with her own hand she made a privy search in a Gentleman's round hose, whether he ware them with a roll, after the best fashion: or that they were void of all good shape and making.  
That one of her Sisters, knowing her by nature to be thus affected, willed him that hath married her, to show her whether he were a man able for the field or no, and what good weapon he carried about him: otherwise, there was small hope of pleasing her, and less to be expected of his success.  
Now whether he followed her good counsel or no, I am not able to say: but hence (as it is reported) grew Dolls unhappy aiming at her throwing up on the bed: Which if he did alone, and no body else, it was the more valorously performed: but if he had any partakers, it was the greater wrong to come so many against one body; for one to one is always counted fair play, manly and reasonable, but to oppress by multitudes, is ever reckoned an apparent sign of cowardice.  
That she should swear the night before she was wedded, that she would never marry with the Grocer he was such a loggerhead: but if the former condition of the Obligation stood in full force and virtue, than I imagine he had best right to her, except some hungry fellow desired to follow, and sup up his leavings.  
And here (by the way) the general rumour is to be examined: namely, that the night the stool was pulled from her she had abuse offered her two several ways: first to be vanquished by wine, a shrewd depriver of the senses: then dastardlike to be thrown backward, and more laid on her, than she was able to bear. If this be the way to get a wife, well may it be termed drunkenly done, but never to be reputed heroical, like his other active agilities: marry when no better way is left to speed, welfare the wine that won the widow.  
It is said also, that he promised my brother William the present release of four score pound land by the year (which he was not to enjoy till the widows death) if he would (as he did) labour for his success. And now that he hath sped, he not only in this breaks promise with him, but in a matter of two houses beside, standing behind the shambles, the leases whereof were by his deceased brother made in his name, and conditioned that he should enter on them after his death: but her lady, my new married brother in law now says no: so William is like to tarry yet both for the land and houses, But be of good cheer Brother, you 〈◊〉 the first that hath travailed for an unkind requiter, nor shall be the last must lose by him.  
Both the Sisters (I hear) likewise are together by the ears, because the one's reward exceeds the others, and there is such alleging, which of them hath best deserved on his behalf: that while they stand contending, and counting how much they shall have for their pains, he turns them off with a fillip of the finger, and flatly saith, now he hath what he would have, let them go seek what they should have. Sisters, I would have William and you put your gains together into a bottomless bag: and if at the years end it increase not, yet ye shall be sure it will not be less than it it is. Marry, (if ye can) turn your endeavours another time to better advantage: else you will be thought unwise, & he that so thrives by your labour more fortunate.  
Fie upon ingratitude, cries poor Richard, he will sell all his ge●●●gs for a poor pepper come: yet he says if promise had been kept, fifty pounds in esse at the least should have fallen to his share, beside the full and absolute power of his Sister's trade put over to him only: where now, he is not only deceived of the one, but disappointed of the other: and his unkind Sister the Tripewife, that I think will follow four selling even in her grave, abbridges him of that paltry prerogative, and flatly executes the office still herself.  
What a lamentable Ditty is here in four parts, of Nihil habemus, which doth not so much disturb the singers, as it urgeth displeasure in the hearers. Good people, beware of wooers promises, they are like the music of a Taber and Pipe: the Pipe sings gold, gifts, and many gay things, but performance moralised in the Taber, still bears the burden of I doubt it, I doubt it: which in my conceit is a very pitiful hearing.  
Moreover I understand, that very simply himself makes report, how weak his state stood before he got the widow, and that if she had not come when she did, his inkhorn had been dry, and he not able to write one letter more.  
What folly is this in any man, to disclose his own secrets: If it had been so, for shame I would never have revealed it myself. But hence I perceive grows the household disquietness, as is said, between him and her, because she finds not what she expected, and therefore wisheth herself over head and ears in the souse tub.  
O what a mournful morning's work was that between my fat Sister and her, when she tailed on Lombardstreet, for exchanging so much of her gold, and wished she were behind the Shambles again as well as ever she was: for the roaring of the Thames, (or rather ransacking of her bags) so disquiets her nightly rest, that her other home was heaven in respect of London-bridge.  
Beside, it is no manly part in him to make 〈◊〉, how oft he tricked the Tripewife before he had her. Fie, fie, I am content to wink at small faults, but (if ye should be such a one) this were intolerable. I'll be swarm, I made answer on your behalf, where I had a 〈◊〉 check for my labour, I said, I 〈◊〉 laid my life ye would not utter such a word for all the marks 〈…〉, the man is wise enough.  
Then I hear how you go bragging about, breathing forth horrible thundering threats, because certain books and ballads are printed of the Tripe wife: ye said ye had the trick to out face all the wooers, and so ye would over dare all the Printers: ye beknave your betters, calling them at your own pleasure, and then turn your tongue to your tail when you have done. What man? it will notsnowe always, neither can you or the best tenant ye have, bear down Paul's Churchyard. Rather win them with kindness, for extremity avails not, they know ye for a man and no more, and will take for ye as a man and no more.  
I know a very good friend of yours, who would be heartily sorry if these reports should be true, & means to talk with ye on them when he next meets ye: for my part, I am sure ye ever found me firm, and so upright unto ye in wading through the cause, that as I would excuse nothing, so would I never justify any thing.  
Ye must regard the world as it is, naturally given to find fault where any cause is given, be it never so little. And though all the stir about the Tripewife be not worth the least piece of a Tripe: yet it sufficeth that ye have won the spurs, from them all, and therefore let me addde these, as appendices unto your Arms.  
A Chirterling rampant in a field sowsant, two haggis puddings for the supporters, a neats foot cleanly wash 〈◊〉 your crest, and a 〈…〉 Tripe to cover all for the mantle.  
So with my hearty 〈◊〉 to your good bed fellow and yourself, with all the rest of my 〈◊〉 friends. I bid ye heartily farewell, this 2. of April. 1595.  
By him that is more yours than his own, Oliver Oatmeal.  
FIN   

Hold Oliver and thou be a good fellow, and let me in two or three words clap up a conclusion, before then fully end thy Finis.  
In the Souse-wives time of retailing, 〈◊〉 were not 〈…〉; but since Tripes have been 〈◊〉 it seems thou hast been her sweet heart's Secretary. Shall I be plain with thee: I mislike the 〈◊〉 of thy Jury, commend thy pl●●●mes touching the reports, and give thee this privilege, that neither he nor she shall ever hereafter trust thee, and therefors if thou have any more matter, turn it to me, and I can send it to mad Davie, that means to thunder out terrible matter against Nicholneates' foot, and Huff snuff his neighbour. Farewell till within this fortnight by which time we shall either be all 〈◊〉, or make our 〈◊〉 endless.  
FINIS.