MERRY CONCEITED JESTS: Of GEORGE PEELE Gentleman, sometimes a Student in OXFORD. Wherein is showed the course of his life, how he lived: a man very well known in the City of LONDON, and elsewhere.  

Buy, read, and judge,  
The price do not grudge:  
It will do thee more pleasure,  
Then twice so much treasure.   
LONDON, Printed by G. P. for F. Faulkner, and are to be sold at his Shop in Southwark, near Saint Margaret's Hill. 1627.   

The jests of GEORGE PEELE, with four of his Companions at BRAINFORD.  
GEorge, with others of his Associates, being merry together at the Tavern, having more store of Goyne then usually they did possess, although they were as regardless of their silver, as a garden whore is of her honesty: yet they intended for a season to become good husbands, if they knew how to be sparing of that their pockets were then furnished withal: Five pounds they had amongst them, and a plot must be cast how they might be merry with extraordinary cheer three or four days, and keep their five pounds whole in stock: George Peele was the man must do it, or none, and generally they conjured him by their loves, his own credit, and the reputation that went on him, that he would but in this show his wit: and withal he should have all the furtherance that in them lay. George as easy as they earnest to be won to such an exploit, consented, and gathered their money together, and gave it all to George, who should be their Purse-bearer, and the other four should seem as servants to George Peele; and the better to colour it, they should go change their cloaks, the one like the other, so near as they could possible: the which at Belzebubs brother the Brokers, they might quickly do: This was soon accomplished, and George was fnrnished with his black Satin suit, and a pair of boots, which were as familiar to his legs, as the pillory to a Bakers or Collier's neck, and he sufficiently possessed his friends with the whole scope of his intent, as, gentle Reader, the sequel will show. Instantly they took a pair of Oars, whose arms were to make a false gallop no further than Brainford, where their fair was paid them so liberally, that each of them the next tide to London, purchased two new wastcoates, yet should these good benefactors come to their usual places of trade, and if they spy a better fare than their own, that happily the Gentleman hath more mind to go withal, they will not only fall out with him that is of their own sweet transporters, as they are, but abuse the fare they carry with foul speeches, as a Pox or the Devil go with you▪ as their Godfather Charon the Ferry man of Hell hath taught them. I speak not this of all, but of some that are brought up in the East, some in the West, some in the North, but most part in the South: but for the rest, they are honest complete men, leaning them to come to my honest George; who is now merry at the three Pigeons in Brainford with Sache and Sugar, not any wine wanting, the Musicians playing, my host drinking, my hostis dancing with the worshipful justice, for so then he was termed, and his mansion house in Kent, who came thither of purpose to be merry with his men: because he could not so conveniently near home, by reason of a shrewish wife he had: my gentle hostis gave him all the entertainment her house could afford▪ for M. Peele had paid royally; for all his ●ne pounds was come to ten groats. Now, George Peeles wit labours to bring in that five pounds there was spent, which was soon begotten. Being set at dinner. My Host, quoth George, how falls the Tide out for London, not till the evening, quoth mine Host, have you any business Sir? Yes marry, quoth George, I intent not to go home this two days▪ Therefore my Host saddle my man a horse for London, if you be so well furnished, for I must send him for one bag more, quoth George, ten pounds hath seen no Sun this six months. I am ill furnished if I cannot furnish you with that, quoth my Host, and presently saddled him a good Nag, and away rides one of George's men to London, attending the good hour of his Master Peele in London, in the mean time, George bespeaks great cheer to Supper, saying, He expected some of his friends from London: Now you must imagine there was not a penny owing in the house, for he had paid as liberal as Caesar, as far as Caesar's wealth went. For indeed most of the money was one Caesar's an honest man yet living in London; but to the Catastrophe. All the day before, had one of the other men of George Peele been a great solicitor to my Host, she would beg leave of his Master he might go see a maid, a sweet heart of his so far as Kingston, and before his Master went to bed, he would return again: saying, he was sure she might command it at his Master's hands. My kind Host willing to pleasure the young fellow, knowing in her time what belonged to such matters, went to Master Peel, and moved him in it: which he angrily refused: but she was so earnest in it, that she swore he should not deny her, protesting he went but to see an uncle of his some five miles off Mary I thank you, quoth George, my good Host, would you so discredit me, or hath the knave no more wit, then at this time to go, knowing I have no horse here, and would he base cullian go afoot? Nay, good Sir, quoth mine Hostis, be not angry, it is not his intent to go afoot: for he shall have my Mare, and I will assure you Sir, upon my word, he shall be here again, to have you to bed; well, quoth George, Host, I'll take you at your word, let him go, his negligence shall light upon you. So be it, quoth mine Host: so down goeth she▪ and sends away civil Thomas, for so she called him, to his sweet heart backed upon her Mare: which Thomas instead of riding to Kingston, took London in his way, where meeting with my other horseman, attended the arrival of George Peele, which was not long after: they are at London, George in his Chamber at Brainford, accompanied with none but one Anthony Nit a Barber, who Dined and Supped with him continually, of whom he had borrowed a Lute to pass away the melancholy afternoon, of which he could play as well as Banks his horse. The Barber very modestly takes his leave; George obsequiously bids him to supper, who (God willing) would not fail. George being left alone with his two supposed men, gave them the mean how to escape, and walking in the Court, George found fault with the weather, saying, it was rawish and cold: which word mine Host hearing, my kind Host fetched her Husband's holiday Gown; which George thankfully put about him, and withal called for a cup of Sack, after which he would walk into the Meadows, and practise upon his Lute. 'Tis good for your worship to do so, quoth mine Host: which walk George took directly to Zion, where having the advantage of a pair of Oars at hand, made this journey for London, his two Associates behind had the plot in their heads by George's instruction for their escape: for they anew he was gone, my Host she was in the Market buying of provision for Supper: mine Host he was at Tables, and my two masterless men desired the maids to excuse them if their Master came for, quoth they, we will go drink two pots with my Smug Smiths wife at old Brainford. I warrant you, quoth the Maids. So away went my men to the Smiths at old Brainford, from thence to London, where they all met, and sold the Horse and the Mare, the Gown and the Lute, which money was as badly spent, as it was lewdly got. How my Host and my Host looked when they saw the event of this; go but to the three Pigeons at Brainford, you shall know.  

The jest of George and the Barber.  
GEorge was not so merry at London with his Capons and Claret, as poor Anthony the Barber was sorrowful at Brainford for the 〈◊〉 of his Lute, & therefore determined to come to London to seek out George Peele, which by the means of a kinsman that Anthony Nit had in London, his name was Cuts or Feats, a Fellow that has good skill in tricks on the Cards, and he was well acquainted with the place where George's common abode was: and for kindred sake he directed the Barber where he should have him, which was at a blind 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in Seacoal Lane. There he found George in a green jerkin, a Spanish platter fashioned Hat, all alone at a Peck of Oysters. The Barber's heart danced within him, for joy he had so happily found him, he gave him the 〈◊〉 of the day: George not a little abashed at the sight of the Barber, yet went out to discover it openly, he that at all times had a quick invention, was not now behind hand to entertain my Barber, who knew for what his coming was▪ George sh●● saluted him, My honest Barber, quoth George, welcome to London, I partly know your business, you come for your Lute, do you not? Indeed Sir, quoth the Barber, for that is my coming. And believe me, quoth George, you shall not lose your labour, I pray you stand to and eat an Oyster, and I'll go with you presently▪ For a Gentleman in the City of great worship, borrowed it of me for the use of his Daughter, that plays exceeding well, and had a great desire to have the Lute, but Sir, if you will go along with me to the Gentleman's house, you shall have your Lute with great satisfaction, for had not you come, I assure you I had sent to you, for you must understand, that all that was done at Brainford among us mad Gentlemen, was but a jest and no otherwise. Sir I think not any otherwise, quoth the Barber: but I would desire your worship, that as you had it of me in lone; so in kindness you would help me to it again. Oh God what else, quoth George, I'll go with thee presently, even as I am, for I came from hunting this morning; and should I go by to the certain Gentleman above, I should hardly get away, I thank you Sir, quoth the Barber, so on goes George with him in this green jerkin▪ a wand in his hand very pretty, till he came almost at the Alderman's House, where making a sudden stay, A fore God, quoth George, I must crave thy pardon at this instant, for I have bethought myself, should I go as I am, it would be imagined I had had some of my Lords hounds out this morning, therefore I'll take my leave of thee, and meet thee where thou wilt about one of the Clock, nay good Sir, quoth the Barber, go with me now: for I purpose, God willing, to be at Brainford to night, sayest thou so, quoth George: why then I'll tell thee what thou shalt do, thou art here a stranger, and altogether unknown, lend me thy Cloak and thy Hat, and do thou put on my green jerken, and I'll go with thee directly along. The Barber loath to leave him until he had his Lute, yielded to the change. So when they came to the Gentleman's porch be put on George's green jerken, and his Spanish Hat: and he the Barber's Cloak and his Hat; either of them being thus filted, George knocks at the door, to whom the Porter bids heartily welcome, for George was well known, who at that time had all the oversight of the Pageants, he desires the Porter to bid his friend welcome, for he is a good fellow and a Keeper, Master Porter, oft that at his pleasure can bestow a haunch of Uenison 〈◊〉 you; marry that can I, quoth the Barber, I thank you Sir, answered the Porter, Master Peele my Master is in 〈◊〉 Hall, pleaseth it you to walk in, 〈◊〉 all my heart, quoth George, in the mean time let my friend bear you company, that he shall Master Peele, quoth the Porter, and if it please him he shall take a simple dinner with me. The Barber gives him hearty thanks, no 〈◊〉 doubting Master or Peele any way, seeing him known and himself so welcome: fell in Chat with the Porter, George Peele goes directly to the Alderman, who now is came into the Court in the eye of the Barber, where George after many complaints, draws a black paper out of his bosom, & making action to the Barber, reads to the Alderman as followeth, I humbly desire your worship to stand my friend in a sleight matter, yonder-hard 〈…〉 that 〈◊〉 by your Worship's Porter, hath 〈◊〉 me 〈…〉, and 〈…〉 means but to take your worship's house for shelter, the occasion is but trivial, only for stealing of a piece of flesh, myself consorted with three or four gentlemen of good fashion, that would not willingly have our names come in question. Therefore this is my 〈◊〉, that your Worship would let one of your servants let me out at the Garden door, and I shall think myself much indebted to your Worship▪ The kind Gentleman, 〈…〉 of George Peeles deceit 〈◊〉 him 〈…〉 the Par●●●, gave him a brace of Angels, & caused one his servants to let George out at the Garden door, which was no sooner opened, but George made way for the Barber seeing him any more, and all the way he went could not choose but laugh at his knavish conceit: how he had gulled the simple Barber, who sat all this while with the Porter blowing of his nails: to whom come this fellow that let out George. You whoreson Késperly Rascal, quoth the fellow, do you come to arrest any honest Gentleman in my Master's house? Not I so God help me, quoth the Barber. I pray Sir where is the Gentleman Master Peele that came along with me? far enough, quoth the fellow, for your coming near him, he is gone out at the Garden door. Garden door, quoth the Barber? why have you any more doors than one? We have sir, and get you hence or I'll set you going goodman Keeper. Alas, quoth the Barber, sir I am no Keeper, I am quite undone: I am a Barber dwelling at Brainford, and with weeping tears up and told him how George had used him. The servant goes in & tells his Master: which when he heard, he could not but laugh at the first: yet in pity of the poor Barber, he gave him twenty shillings towards his loss. The Barber sighing taken it, and towards Brainford home he goes, and whereas he came from thence in a new Cloak and a fair Hat, he went home weeping in an old Hat, and a green jerken.   

How George Peele became a Physician.  
GEorge on a time being happily furnished both of horse and money, though the horse he hired, and the money he borrowed: but no matter how he was possessed of them: and towards Oxford he rides to make merry with his friends and fellow students: and in his way he took up Wickham, where he sojourned that night: Being at supper accompanied with his Host: among other tabletalk, they fell into discourse of chirurgery, of which my Host was a simple professor. Ceorge Peele observing the humour of my she Chirurgeon, upheld her in all, the strange cures she talked of, and prassed her womanly endeavour; telling her, he loved her so much the better, because it was a thing that he professed, both Physic & Chirurgery: and George had a Dictionary of Physical words, that it might set a better gloss upon that which he seemingly professed: and told his good Host, at his return he would teach her something that should do her no hurt: for (quoth he) at this instant I am going about a great Cure as far as Warwickshire, to a Gentleman of great living, and one that hath been in a Cousumption this half year, and I hope to do him good. O God, (quoth the Hostis) there is a Gentleman not a quarter of a Mile off, that hath been a long time sick of the same disease: Believe me, Sir, quoth the Host, would it please your Worship ere your departure in the morning, but to visit the Gentleman, and but spend your opinion of him, and I make no question but the Gentlewoman will be very thankful to you. I faith (quoth George, happily at my return I may; but at this time my haste is such that I cannot: and so good night, mine Hostis. So away went George to bed; and my giddy Host, right of the nature of most women, thought that night as long as ten, till she was delivered of that burden of news which she had received from my new Doctor: (for so he termed himself.) Morning being come, at break of the day mine Host trudges to this Gentleman's house, acquainteth his wife what an excellent man she had at her house: protesting he was the best seen in Physic, and had done the most strangest cures that ever she heard of: saying, that if she would but send for him, no question he would do him good. The Gentlewoman glad to hear of any thing that might procure the health of her Husband, presently sent one of her men, to desire the Doctor to come and visit her Husband: Which message when George heard, he wondered: for he had no more skill in Physic then in Music, and they were as distant both from him, as heaven from hell. But, to conclude, George set a bold face on it, and away went he to the sick Gentleman; where when he came, after some compliment to the Gentlewoman, he was brought to the Chamber where the ancient Gentleman say wonderful sick: for all Physic had given him over: George begins to feel his Pulses and his temples, saying, he was very far spent: yet, quoth he, under GOD I will do him some good, if Nature be not quite extinct. Whereupon he demanded whether they had ever a Garden? That I have, quoth the Gentlewoman. I pray you direct me thither, quoth George. Where when he came, he cut a handful of every Flower, Herb and Blossom, or whatsoever else in the Garden; and brought them in in the lapis of his Cloak, boiled them in Ale; strained them, boiled them again; and when he had all the juice out of them, of which he made some pottle of drink, he caused the sick Gentleman to drink off a maudlin Cup full, and willed his wife to give him of that same at morning, noon, and night▪ protesting, if any thing in this world did him good, it must be that: giving great charge to the Gentlewoman to keep him wonderful warm: and at my return, quoth George, some ten days hence, I will return and see how he fares: For, quoth he, by that time something will be done; and so I will take my leave. Not so, quoth the Gentlewoman, your Worship must needs stay and take a simple dinner with me to day. Indeed, quoth George, I cannot now stay; my haste is such, I must presently to Horse. You may suppose George was in haste until he was out of the Gentleman's house: for he knew not whether he had poisoned the Gentleman or not, which made him so eager to be gone out of the Gentleman's house. The Gentlewoman seeing she could by no means stay him, gave him two brace of Angels, which never shined long in his purse, and desired him at his return to know her house: which George promised, and with seeming niceness took the gold, and towards Oxford went he, forty, shillings heavier than he was, where he bravely dominéered while his Physical money lasted. But to see the strangeness of this: Whether it was the virtue of some herb which he gathered, or the conceit the Gentleman had of George Peele, but it so pleased GOD the Gentleman recovered, and in eight days walked abroad; and that fortunate potion which George made at random, did him more good than many pounds that he had spent in half a year before in Physic. George his money being spent, he made his return towards London; and when he came within a mile of the Gentleman's house, he enquired of a Country fellow how such a Gentleman did. The fellow told him. God be praised, his good Landlord was well recovered by a virtuous Gentleman that came this way by chance. Art thou sure of it, quoth George? Yes, believe me, quoth the fellow, I saw him in the Fields but this morning. This was no simple news to George. He presently set spurs to his Horse, and whereas he thought to shun the Town, he went directly to his Inn: at whose arrival, the Host clapped her hands, the Oastler laughed, the Tapster leapt, the Chamberlain ran to the Gentleman's house, and told him the Doctor was come. How joyful the Gentleman was, let them imagine that have any after-healths. George Peele was sent for, and after a Million of thanks from the Gentleman and his friends, George Peele had 20. pounds delivered him: which money, how long it was a spending, let the Taverns in London witness.   

How George helped his friend to a Supper.  
GEorge was invited one night by certain of his friends to supper, at the White Horse in Friday street; and in the evening as he was going, he met with an old friend of his, who was so ill at the stomach, hearing George tell him of the good cheer he went to, himself being unprovided both of meat and money, that he swore he had rather have gone a mile about, then have met him at that instant. And believe me, quoth George, I am heartily sorry that I cannot take thee along with me, myself being but an invited guest; beside, thou art out of clothes, unfitting for such a company: Marry this I'll do, if thou wilt follow my advice, I'll help thee to thy supper. Any way, quoth he to George, do thou but devose the means, and I'll execute it. George presently told him what he should do; so they parted. George well entertained, with extraordinary welcome, and seated at the upper end of the Table, Supper being brought up, H. M. watched his time below; and when he saw that the meat was carried up, up he follows, (as George had directed him,) who when George saw, You whoreson Rascal, (quoth George) What make you here? Sir, quoth he, I am come from the party you wot of. You Rogue, quoth George, have I not forewarned you of this? I pray you, Sir, quoth he, hear my Errand. Do you prate, you Slave, quoth George? and with that, took a Rabbit out of the Dish, and threw it at him. Quoth he, you use me very hardly. You Dunghill, quoth George, do you outface me? and with that, took the other Rabbit, and threw it at his head; after that a Loaf; then drawing his Dagger, making an offer to throw it, the Gentleman stayed him: mean while H. M. got the Loaf and the two Rabbits, and away he went: which when George saw he was gone, after a little fretting, he sat quietly. So by that honest shift he helped his friend to his supper, and was never suspected for it of the company.   

How George Peele was shaved, and of the revenge he took.  
THere was a Gentleman that dwelled in the West Country, and had stayed here in London a Term longer than he intended, by reason of a Book that George had to translate out of Greek into English: and when he wanted money, George had it of the Gentleman: but the more he supplied him of Coin, the further off he was from his Book, and could get no end of it, neither by fair means, entreaty, or double payment: for George was of the Poetical disposition, never to write so long as his money lasted; some quarter of the Book being done, and lying in his hands at random. The Gentleman had plotted a means to take such an order with George next time he came, that he would have his Book finished. It was not long before he had his company; his arrival was for more money: the Gentleman bids him welcome; causeth him to stay dinner, where falling into discourse about his Book, found that it was as near ended as he left it two months ago. The Gentleman, meaning to be guied no longer, caused two of his men to bind George hand and foot in a Chair: a folly it was for him to ask what they meant by it: the Gentleman sent for a Barber, and George had a beard of an indifferent size, and well grown: he made the Barber shave him beard and head, left him as bare of hair, as he was of money: the Barber he was well contented for his pains, who left George like an old woman in man's apparel; and his voice became it well, for it was more woman then man. George, quoth the Gentleman, I have always used you like a friend, my purse hath been open to you: that you have of mine to translate, you know it is a thing I highly esteem; therefore I have used you in this fashion, that I might have an end of my Book, which shall be as much for your profit as my pleasure. So forthwith he commanded his men to unbind him, and putting his hand into his pocket, gave him two brace of Angels: quoth he, Master Peele, drink this, and by that time you have finished my book, your beard will be grown, until which time, I know you will be ashamed to walk abroad. George patiently took the gold, said little, and when it was dark night, took his leave of the Gentleman, and went directly home: who when his wife saw, I omit the wonder she made, but imagine those that shall behold their husbands in such a case. To bed went George, and ere morning he had plotted sufficiently how to cry quid pro quo with his politic Gentleman.   

The jest of George Peele at Bristol.  
GEorge was at Bristol, and there staying somewhat longer than his coin would last him, his Palfrey that should be his Carrier to London, his head was grown so big, that he could not get him out of the stable: it so fortuned at that instant, certain Players came to the Town, and lay at that Inn where George Peele was: to whom George was well known, being in that time an excellent Poet, and had acquaintance of most of the best Players in England: from the trivial sort he was but so so; of which these were, only knew George by name, no otherwise. There was not passed three of the company come with the Carriage, the rest were behind, by reason of a long journey they had; so that night they could not enact; which George hearing, had presently a Stratagem in his head to get his Horse free out of the stable, and Money in his purse to bear his charges up to London: And thus it was: He goes directly to the Mayor, tells him he was a Scholar and a Gentleman, and that he had a certain History of the Knight of the Rhodes; and withal, how Bristol was first founded, and by whom, and a brief of all those that before him had succeeded in Office in that worshipful City: desiring the Mayor, that he, with his presence, and the rest of his Brethren, would grace his labours▪ The Mayor agreed to it, gave him leave, and withal appointed him a place: but for himself, he could not be there, being in the evening: but bade him make the best benefit he could of the City; and very liberally gave him an Angel, which George thankfully receives, and about his business he goes, got his Stage made, his History cried, and hired the Player's Apparel, to flourish out his Show, promising to pay them liberally; and withal desired them they would favour him so much, as to gather him his money at the door: (for he thought it his best course to employ them, lest they should spy out his knavery; for they have perilous heads.) They willingly yield to do him any kindness that lies in them; in brief, carry their apparel to the Hall, place themselves at the door, where George in the mean time, with the ten shillings he had of the Mayor, delivered his Horse out of Purgatory, and carries him to the Town's end, and there placeth him, to be ready at his coming. By this time the Audience were come, and some forty shillings gathered, which money George put in his purse, and putting on one of the Player's Silk Robes, after the Trumpet had sounded thrice, out he comes, makes low obeisance, goes forward with his Prologue, which was thus: 
A trifling Toy, a jest of no account, perdie.  
The Knight, perhaps, you think for to be I:  
Think on so still: for why, you know that thought is free,  
Sat still a while, I'll send the Actors to ye.   
Which being said, after some fireworks that he had made of purpose, threw out among them, and down stairs goes he, gets to his Horse, and so with forty shillings to London; leaves the Players to answer it; who when the jest was known, their innocence excused them, being as well gulled as the Mayor and the Audience.   

How George gulled a Punk, otherwise called a Croshabell.  
Coming to London, he fell in company with a Cockatrice; which pleased his eye so well, that George fell aboarding of her, and proffered her the wine: which my Croshabell willingly accepted: to the Tavern they go, where after a little idle talk, George fell to the question about the thing you wot of. My she-Hobby was very dainty, which made George are more eager; and my lecherous animal proffered largely to obtain his purpose. To conclude, nothing she would grant unto, except ready coin, which was forty shillings, not a farthing less: if so he would, next night she would appoint him where he should meet her. George saw how the game went, that she was more for lucre than for love, thus cunningly answered her: Gentlewoman, howsoever you speak, I do not think your heart agrees with your tongue; the money you demand is but to try me: and indeed but a trifle to me: but because it shall not be said I bought that gem of you I prise so highly, I'll give you a token to morrow, that shall be more worth than your demand, if so you please to accept it. Sir, quoth she, it contenteth me well: and so, if please you, at this time we'll part, and to morrow in the evening meet you where you shall appoint. The place was determined, and they kissed and parted, she home, George into Saint Thomas Apostles, to a friend of his, of whom he knew he could take up a Petticoat of trust: (the first letter of his name begins with G.) A Petticoat he had of him, at the price of five shillings; which money is owing till this day. The next night being come, they met at the place appointed, which was a Tavern; there they were to sup: that ended, George was to go home with her, to end his Yeoman's plea in her common case. But Master Peele had another drift in his mazzard: for he did so ply her with wine, that in a small time she spun such a thread, that she reeled homewards, and George he was fain to be her supporter: when to her house she came, with nothing so much painting in the inside, as her face had on the outside; with much ado her Maid had her to bed, who was no sooner laid, but she fell fast asleep: which when George perceived, he sent the Maid for Milk, and a quart of Sack to make a Posset; where before her return, George made so bold as to take up his own new Petticoat, a fair Gown of hers, two gold Kings that lay in the window, and away he went: the Gown and the gold Kings he made a chaffer of; the Petticoat he gave to his honest Wife, one of the best deeds he ever did to her. How the Croshabell looked when she awaked and saw this, I was never there to know.   

How the Gentleman was gulled for shaving of George.  
GEorge had a Daughter of the age of ten years, a Girl of a pretty form, but of an excellent wit: all part of her was Father, save her middle: and she had George so tutored all night, that although himself was the Author of it, yet had he been transformed into his Daughter's shape, he could not have done it with more conceit. George at that time dwelled at the Bankside, from whence comes this she-sinnow, early in the morning, with her hair dichenalled, wring her hands, and making such pitiful moan with shrieks and tears, and beating of her breast, that made the people in a maze: some stood wondering at the Child; others plucked her, to know the occasion; but none could stay her by any means, but on she kept her journey, crying, O, her Father, her good Father, her dear Father, over the Bridge, thorough Cheapside, and so to the Old Bailey, where the Gentleman sojourned, there sitting herself down, a hundred people gaping upon her, there she begins to cry out, Woe to that place, that her Father ever saw it: she was a castaway, her Mother was undone: till with the noise, one of the Gentleman's men coming down, looked on her, and knew her to be George Peeles Daughter: he presently runs up, and tells his Master, who commanded his man to bring her up. The Gentleman was in a cold sweat, fearing that George had for the wrong that he did him the day before, some way undone himself. When the Girl came up, he demanded the cause why she so lamented, and called upon her Father? George his flesh and blood, after a million of sighs, cried out upon him, he had made her Father, her good Father, drown himself. Which words once uttered, she fell into a counterfeit swoone, whom the Gentleman soon recovered. This news went to his heart, and he being a man of a very mild condition, cheered up the Girl, made his men to go buy her new clothes from top to toe, said he would be a Father to her, gave her five pounds, bid her go home and carry it to her mother, and in the eveneng he would visit her. At this, by little and little she began to be quiet; desiring him to come and see her Mother. He tells her, he will not fail, bids her go home quietly. So down stairs goes she pearily, and the wondering people that stayed at door, to hear the manner of her grief, had of her nought but knavish answers, and home went she directly. The Gentleman was so crossed in mind, and disturbed in thought at this unhappy accident, that his soul could not be in quiet, till he had been with this woeful widow, as he thought, and presently went to Black Friars, took a pair of Oars, and went directly to George Peeles house, where he found his Wife plucking of Larks, my crying Crocodile turning of the spit, and George pinned up in a blanket, at his translation. The Gentleman, more glad at the unlooked for life of George, than the loss of his money, took part of the good cheer George had to dinner, wondered at the cunning of the Wench, and within some few days after had an end of his Book.   

How George read a Playbook to a Gentleman.  
THere was a Gentleman, whom GOD had endued with good living to maintain his small wit: he was not a Fool absolute, although in this world he had good fortune: and he was in a manner an Ingle to George, one that took great delight to have the first hearing of any work that George had done, himself being a writer, and had a Poetical invention of his own, which when he had with great labour finished, their fatal end was for privy purposes. This self-conceited brock had George invited to half a score sheets of paper, whose Christianly pen had writ Finis to the famous Play of the Turkish Mahamet, and Hyrin the fair Greek, in Italian called a Courtesan; in Spain, a Margerite; in French, un Curtain; in England, among the barbarous, a Whore; but among the Gentle, their usual associates, a Punk: but now the word refined being latest, and the authority brought from a Climate as yet unconquered, the fruitful County of Kent, they call them Croshabell, which is a word but lately used, and fitting with their trade, being of a lovely and courteous condition. Leaving them: This Fantastic, whose brain was made of nought but Cork and Sponge, came to the cold lodging of Monsieur Peele, in his black Satin Suit, his Gown furred with Coney, in his Slippers: being in the evening, he thought to hear George's book, and so to return to his Inn; (this not of the wisest, being of Saint Barnard's.) George bids him welcome, told him he would gladly have his opinion in his book. He willingly condescended, and George begins to read, and between every Scene he would make pauses, and demand his opinion, how he liked the carriage of it. Quoth he, wondrous well, the conveyance. O, but (quoth George) the end is far better: (for he meant another conveyance ere they two departed.) George was very tedious in reading, and the night grew old: I protest, quoth the Gentleman, I have stayed overlong, I fear me I shall hardly get into mine Inn. If you fear that, quoth George, we will have a clean pair of sheets, and you shall take a simple lodging here. This house-gull willingly embraced it, and to bed they go, where George in the midst of the night spying his time, put on this Dormouse his clothes, desired God to keep him in good rest, honestly takes leave of him and the House, to whom he was indebted four Nobles. When this Drum awaked, and found himself so left, he had not the wit to be angry, but swore scurvily at the misfortune, and said, I thought he would not have used me so. And although it so pleased the Fates he had another suit to put on, yet he could not get thence, till he had paid the money George ought to the house, which for his credit he did: and when he came to his lodging, in anger he made a Poem of it: 
Peele is no Poet, but a Gull and Clown,  
To take away my clothes and Gown:  
I vow by love, if I can see him wear it,  
I'll give him a glyg, and patiently bear it.    

How George Peele served half a score Citizens.  
GEorge once had invited half a score of his friends to a great Supper, where they were passing merry, no cheer wanting, wine enough, music playing: the night growing on, & being upon departure, they call for a reckoning. George swears there is not a penny for them to pay. They, being men of good fashion, by no means will yield unto it, but every man throws down his money, some ten shillings, some five, some more: protesting something they will pay. Well, quoth George, taking up all the money; seeing you will be so wilful, you shall see what shall follow: he commands the music to play, and while they were skipping and dancing, George gets his cloak, sends up two Pottles of Hypocrist, and leaves them and the reckoning to pay. They wondering at the stay of George, meant to be gone; but they were stayed by the way, and before they went, forced to pay the reckoning anew. This showed a mind in him, he cared not whom he deceived, so he profited himself for the present.   

A jest of George, riding to Oxford.  
THere was some half dozen of Citizens, that had oftentimes been solicitors to George, he being a Master of Art at the University of Oxford, that he would ride with them to the Commencement, it being at Midsummer. George, willing to pleasure the Gentlemen his friends, road along with them. When they had rode the better part of the way, they baited at a village called Stoken, five miles from Wickham good cheer was bespoken for dinner; and frolic was the company, all but George, who could not be in that pleasant vain that did ordinarily possess him, by reason he was without money: but he had not fetched forty turns about the Chamber, before his noddle had entertained a conceit how to money himself with credit, and yet glean it from some one of the company. There was among them one excellent Ass, a fellow that did nothing but frisk up and down the Chamber, that his money might be heard chide in his pocket: this fellow had George observed, and secretly conveyed his gilt Rapier & Dagger into another Chamber, and there closely hid it: that done, he called up the Tapster, and upon his cloak borrows 5 shillings for an hour or so, till his man came, (as he could fashion it well enough:) so much money he had, and then who more merry than George? Meat was brought up, they set themselves to dinner, all full of mirth, especially my little fool, who drank not of the conclusion of their feast: dinner ended, much prattle past, every man begins to buckle to his furniture: among whom this Hichcock miss his Rapier: at which all the company were in a maze; he besides his wits; for he had borrowed it of a specaill friend of his, and swore he had rather spend twenty Nobles. This is strange, quoth George, it should be gone in this fashion, none being here but ourselves and the fellows of the house: who were examined, but no Rapier could be heard of: all the company much grieved; but George in a pitiful chafe, swore it should cost him forty shillings, but he would know what was become of it, if Art could do it: and with that he caused the Oastler to saddle his Nag, for George would ride to a Scholar, a friend of his, that had skill in such matters. O, good M. Peele, quoth the fellow, want no money, here is forty shillings, see what you can do, and, if you please, I'll ride along with you. Not so, quoth George, taking his forty shillings, I'll ride alone, and be you as merry as you can till my return. So George left them, and road directly to Oxford, there he acquaints a friend of his with all the circumstance, who presently took Horse, and road along with him to laugh at the jest. When they came back, George tells them he had brought one of the rarest men in England: whom they with much compliment bid welcome. He, after a distracted countenance, and strange words, takes this Bullfinch by the wrist, and carried him into the privy, and there willed him to put in his head, but while he had written his name and told forty: which he willingly did: that done, the Scholar asked him what he saw? By my faith Sir, I smelled a villainous sent, but I saw nothing. Then I have, quoth he; and with that directed him where his Rapeir was: saying, It is just North-East, inclosed in wood, near the earth: for which they all made diligent search, till George, who hid it under a settle, found it, to the comfort of the fellow, the joy of the company, and the eternal credit of his friend, who was entertained with Wine and Sugar; and George redeemed his Cloak, road merrily to Oxford, having coin in his pocket, where this L●ach spares not for any expense, for the good fortune he had in the happy finding of his Rapier.   

How George served his Hostis.  
GEorge lying at an old Widow's house, and had gone so far on the Score, that his credit would stretch no further: for she had made a vow, not to depart with drink or victuals without ready money: Which George seeing the fury of his froward Host, in grief kept his Chamber; called to his Host, and told her, she should understand that he was not without money, how poorly soever he appeared to her, and that my ●let shall testify: in the mean time, good Host, quoth he, send for such a friend of mine. She did: so his friend came: to whom George imparted his mind: the effect whereof was this, to pawn his Cloak, Hose and Doublet, unknown to his Host: for, quoth George, this seven nights do I intend to keep my bed. (Truly he spoke: for his intent was, the bed should not keep him any longer.) Away goes he to pawn his apparel; George bespeaks good cheer to supper, which was no shamblebutcher stuff, but according to the place: for, his Chamber being remote from the house, at the end of the Garden, his apparel being gone, it appeared to him as the Counter, therefore to comfort himself, he dealt in Poultry. His friend brought the money, supped with him: his Host he very liberally paid, but cauelled with her at her unkindness: vowing that while he lay there, none should attend him but his friend. The Hostis replied, A God's name, she was well contented with it: so was George too: for none knew better than himself what he intended, but in brief, thus he used his kind Hostis. After his Apparel and Money was gone, he made bold with the Featherbed he lay on, which his friend slily conveyed away, having as villanons a Wolf in his belly as George, though not altogether so wise; for that featherbed they devoured in two days, feathers and all: which was no sooner digested, but away went the Coverlet, Sheets, and the Blanket; and at the last dinner, when George's good friend perceiving nothing left but the bed cords, as the Devil would have it, strait came in his mind the fashion of a halter; the foolish kind knave would needs fetch a quart of sack for his Friend George; which Sack to this day never saw Uintuers Cellar: and so he left George in a cold Chamber, a thin shirt, a ravished bed, no comfort left him, but the bare bones of deceased Capons. In this distress, George be thought him what he might do; nothing was left him; and as his eye wandered up and down the empty Chamber, by chance he spied out an old Armour; at which sight George was the ioyfullest man in Christendom: for the Armour of Achilles, that Ulysses and Aiax strove for, was not more precious to them, than this to him: for he presently claps it upon his back, the Halberd in his hand, the Moryon on his head, and so gets out the back way, marches from Shoreditch to Clarkenwell, to the no small wonder of those spectators that beheld him. Being arrived to the wished haven he would be, an old acquaintance of his furnished him with an old Suit and an old Cloak for his old Armour. How the Host looked, when she saw that metamorphosis in her chamber, judge those Bombortes that live by tapping, between the age of 50 and 3 score.   

How he served a Tapster.  
GEorge was making merry with three or four of his friends in Pie-corner; where the Tapster of the house was much given to Poetry: for he had engrossed The Knight of the Sun, Venus and Adonis, and other Pamphlets which the Stripling had collected together; and knowing George to be a Poet, he took great delight in his company, and out of his bounty would bestow a brace of Cans of him. George observing the humour of the Tapster, meant presently to work upon him. What will you say, quoth George to his friends, if out of this spirit of the Cellar, I fetch a good Angel, that shall hid us all to supper. We would gladly see that, quoth his friends. Content yourself, quoth George. The Tapster ascends with his two Cans, delivers one to Master Peele, and the other to his friends: gives them kind welcome: but George, in stead of giving him thanks, bids him not to trouble him: and begins in these terms: I protest, Gentlemen, I wonder you will urge me so much; I swear I have it not about me. What is the matter, quoth the Tapster? Hath any one angered you? No faith, quoth George, I'll tell thee, it is this: There is a friend of ours in Newgate, for nothing but only the command of the justices, and he being now to be released, sends to me to bring him an Angel: now the man I love dear well; and if he want ten Angels, he shall have them: for I know him sure: but here's the misery; either I must go home, or I must be forced to pawn this: and plucks an old Harry groat out of his pocket. The Tapster looks upon it: Why, and it please you, Sir, quoth he, this is but a groat. No, Sir, quoth George, I know it is but a groat: but this groat will I not lose for forty pound: for this groat had I of my mother, as a testimony of a Lease of a House I am to possess after her decease: and it I should lose this groat, I were in a fair case: and either I must pawn this groat, or there the fellow must lie still. Quoth the Tapster, If it please you, I will tend you an Angel on it, and I will assure you it shall be safe. Wilt thou, quoth George? as thou art an honest man, lock it up in thy Chest, and let me have it whensoever I call for it. As I am an honest man, you shall, quoth the Tapster George delivered him his groat: the Tapster gave him ten shillings: to the Tavern go they with the money, and there merrily spend it. It fell out in a small time after, the Tapster, having many of these lurches, fell to decay, and indeed was turned out of service, having no more coin in the world than this groat; and in this misery, he met George, as poor as himself. O Sir, quoth the Tapster, you are happily met; I have your groat safe, though since I saw you last, I have bid great extremity: and I protest, save that groat, I have not any one penny in the world; therefore I pray you Sir, help me to my money, and take your pawn. Not for the world, quoth George: thou sayest thou hast but that groat in the world: my bargain was, that thou shouldst keep that groat until I did demand it of thee: I ask thee none: I will do thee far more good: because thou art an honest fellow, keep thou that groat still, till I call for it: and so doing, the proudest jack in England cannot justify that thou art not worth a groat, otherwise they might: and so, honest Michael, farewell. So George leaves the poor Tapster picking of his fingers, his head full of proclamations what he might do: at last sighing, he ends with this Proverb: 
For the price of a Barrel of Beer,  
I have bought a groats worth or wit,  
Is not that dear.    

How George served a Gentlewoman.  
GEorge, used often to an Ordinary in this Town, where a kinswoman of the good wives in the house held a great pride and vain opinion of her own mother wit: for her tongue was as a jack continually wagging: and for she had heard that George was a Scholar, the thought she would find a time to give him notice, that she had as much in her head, as ever was in her Grandfathers: yet in some things she differed from the women in those days; for their natural complexion was their beauty: now this Titmouse, what she is stanted by nature, she doth replenish by Art: as her boxes of red and white daily can testify. But to come to George, who arrived at the Ordinary among other Gallants, throws his Cloak upon the Table, salutes the Gentlemen, and presently calls for a cup of Canary. George had a pair of Hose on, that for some offence durst not be seen in that hue they were first died in, but from his first colour, being a youthful green, his long age turned him into a mournful black, and for his antiquity was in print: which this busybody perceiving, thought now to give it him to the quick: and drawing near Master Peele, looking upon his Breeches: By my troth, Sir, quoth she, these are exceedingly well printed. At which word George being a little moved in his mind, that his old hose were called in question, answered, And by my faith, Mistress, quoth George, your face is most danmably ill painted. How mean you, Sir, quoth she? Marry thus, Mistress, quoth George, That if it were not for printing and painting, my arse and your face would grow out of reparations. At which she biting her lIp, in a parat fury went down the stairs. The Gentlemen laughed at the sudden answer of George, and being seated to dinner: the Gentlemen would needs have the company of this witty Gentlewoman to dine with them; who with little denying came, in hope to cry quittance with George. When she was ascended, the Gentlemen would needs place her by M. Peele; because they did use to dart one at another, they thought it meet, for their more safety, they should be placed nearest together. George kindly entertains her: and being seated, he desires her to reach him the Capon that stood by her, and he would be so bold as to carve for his money: and as she put out her arm to take the Capon, George sitting by her, yerkes me out a huge fart, which made all the company in amaze, one looking upon the other: yet they knew it came that way. Peace, quoth George, and iogs her on the elbow, I will say it was I. At which all the Company fell into a huge laughter, she into a fretting fury, vowing never she should sleep quietly, till she was revenged of George his wrong done unto her: and so in a great chase left their company.   
FINIS.