THE Case is Altered. How? Ask Dalio, and Millo. LONDON Imprinted by T. C. for john Smethicke, and are to be sold at his Shop in S. Dunston's Churchyard in Fleetstreet. 1604. TO MY VERY kind and approved friend, D. R. F. R. wisheth a comforts that Fortune in her best Cases bestoweth on the kindest Natures, and a further joy in the heart, than Fortune hath in her hands. Sir, your long Experience in the variety of Cases, hath made me send you these few mer●y, pitiful Cases: In which, if your leisure be to read, your judgement is sufficient to discern the cause of their gathering together, and setting down as you see: the best is, they are no such unreasonable Cases, but they may be pleaded, with pleasure, in the private conference of conceit and patience: Some are longer than other, all are free from the thought of malice: But, lest I speak any thing in their praises, knowing nothing worth any thing; I will leave them to your kindness to consider of, and my love to your farther commandment. And so, fearing, lest through want of means to express my affection, I should, in the suspicion of oblivion, bury the great heap of your undeserved favours, entreating your patient acceptation of this, till a better be made ready: in a pitiful Case of discontentment, that I have not a better present for your kindness: wishing your worthiness, the comfort of all happiness, I rest in the midst of all my Cases, and in what Case soever: to my uttermost power. Yours, as mine own. F. T. To the Reader. GEntle Reader, I pray God, I do not flatter you, for if you should prove either unwise, or unkind, I should call in my Title: So it is, that having nothing to do, I set myself on work about a little better matter, to write down certain Cases never pleaded, but only discoursed upon, by a couple of idle people; the matters handled, are of no great moment, & therefore scarce worth the reading: but yet, if you peruse them all over, no doubt but some of them will please you: if any of them do otherwise, I am sorry, I know not your humour: but if you find yourself touched with any evil, rather mend the fault in yourself, then find fault with me. In brief, I only write upon Cases, neither knive Cases, Pin Cases, nor Candle Cases, but only a few merry pitiful Cases: In which if I have lost time, I am sorry for my labour; If I have lost my labour, I am sorry for my time; but, if I have gained your good will, all is not lost: and I thank you; but, because I know not where to come to you to tell you so, I leave you to read and like what you list, and to think of me as you have cause, and so in good will, I rest. Your friend, F. T. The Case is altered: How? Ask Dalio and Mil●o. DALIO. MILLO, Good morrow. Millo. And a thousand to thee, honest Dalio: but whither plod you so sadly? Dal. I was walking towards your house, and finding your wife abroad, I hoped the better to have you quiet at home. Mil. You say well: Is it not a pitiful Case, that a man's house that should be his castle, and his wise his comfort▪ should through the unquietness of her indiscretion, become more terrible to him then a town of War? Dal. I must confess it is too true, I have pitied you often, but could never do you good: and he that could judge what I see and you ●eele, would confess it were a pitiful Case ind●d; God help you. Mill. I thank you, for I think that the noise of a volley of shot, is not comparable to the roaring mouth of an ●nquiet woman: which since it will not be mended▪ it must be borne, & so forth. But I pray you tell me, how doth your eldest son? followeth he his old courses? will no good cou●sell bring him home again? Dalinea Oh, no Neighbour: I may sigh to ●are men s●y, that yonder is an honest man▪ yet hath a son able to break the heart of his father: Oh, it is a pitiful Case▪ that a man should 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 care all the d●yes of his life, to lay up wealth to: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 sonn● that shall spend it before he were ready to part with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 he could 〈◊〉 to be a child be sick of the 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 upon his death, be glad of his sickness, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ● continuing in an evil course, scorn 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the Law, he grows so 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in his 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 he be 〈◊〉 of all good compa●, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to his father's hear●: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉, the 〈◊〉 of punishment, the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ love of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 him to good▪ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to 〈◊〉 him so past gra●, that there 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 nature is of such f●ce, that 〈◊〉 canno● 〈◊〉 his own child: what shall I say to it? Dal. Why, as you said to me, let me say to you, a pitiful Case, a pitiful Case, for 'tis ●o less▪ Ascolding wife, and a stubborn child, are two pitiful Cases for patience to plead 〈◊〉. But what is become o● my neighbour's 〈◊〉 daughter? 〈◊〉. Alas the day there is a pitiful Case indeed, if you 〈◊〉 of a Case to be 〈◊〉. A ●ong wench, a fair wench, a 〈◊〉 wench, a pretty wench, a 〈◊〉 wench a gallant wench, a proper wench, a wife wench, an honest wench, a 〈◊〉 wench a 〈◊〉 wench, that could speak well, and 〈◊〉 well, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 pl● 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 w●ll, ●nd do 〈◊〉 thing 〈◊〉, to be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ I say cast 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 , 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 that loves nothing but 〈◊〉 meat, 〈◊〉 can 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 upon gay 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 all for a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to be ? 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the should 〈◊〉 & I would reel, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 a living, before I would bring her to her death by such a misery. 〈◊〉 You say well, & so I think should I▪ but 'tis a pitiful Case, and so let it be: And since we are entered into these matters, let me ask you a question. I pray you what hear you of your Nephew, and his marriage? Dal. You do well to put me in 〈◊〉 of him for in t●th I pity him: a young man, a handsome man a wise man, an honest man, a kind man, & a careful man, given to thrive, like to do well, coming on well in the world; to bestow the p●me of his years, the hope of his fortune, and the fruit of his travail, upon the figure of deformity, the discomfort of continuance, the cross of pleasure, & the misery of time, & all for a little cankered coin, which may hap to be short of his reckoning & he may leave ere he be aware: would it not fret a man to think on it? 〈◊〉 a man to see it? & pity him, that he cannot help 〈◊〉? when his youth is drowned in her age, his wit in her wilfulness, his learning, in her lack of understanding, and his worthiness, in her wretchedness. Is not this a pitiful Case? Mil. Oh yes, a pitiful Case, a pitiful Case indeed: and for myself, had I such a son, I would make him plough and I would sow, & we would both labour for bread▪ ●re he should ●ast with such a morsel. But to go on with you a little, I pray you how doth my Cousin Sindo, with his bar●aine? Dal. You say well, for there is a Case pitiful enough, I think: oh poor man, he is undone: wh●, his stock o● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 put into a stock of sheep, & having them warranted good and sound, takes a pasture for them, which hath been 〈◊〉 ●th sick cattle, & there finds them day by day fall into diseases that what with ye●ot, the Scab, the Fly, the worm, th● 〈◊〉, & I know not what, in a little 〈◊〉, the Fold com● 〈◊〉 a little room, & the 〈◊〉 ●o 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉▪ that the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 not be worth the taking up: wh●▪ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 and the Wolf▪ the careless▪ o● the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ground, or the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ the 〈◊〉 com● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 reckoning, that repentance may 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ●acke of 〈◊〉 of his own 〈◊〉 play 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 the shepherd with another: to see an honest 〈◊〉 in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of his neighbous▪ careful of his estate, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 should either through want o●●ill, or the 〈◊〉 o● 〈◊〉, come into such 〈◊〉▪ 〈◊〉 being able to le●d 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, should not now have either credit or comfort 〈◊〉 misery: Oh is it not a pitiful Case, that man, who should be as a God unto man, should become such a devil unto man? Mill. It is true, the devil at the first crept into the ear of a woman, to deceive man, and I think he hath of late so crept into the heart of man to deceive one an other, and themselves most of all, that the monstrous minds of these days do so deceive and abuse the simple hearts of honest souls, that we may say it is a pitiful Case, to see what the devil can do among men: but let this pass: and let me ask you a question. Dal. With all my heart, and as I can I will kindly answer you: then say this: When a rich man dies, and owes a great deal of money, to a number of poor men, and women, many of them take his word and have no writings, he dies and makes his will, gives what he hath, to whom he list, but hath no mind of his debts, though he have set down all his debtor, and so with a conscience world wide goes to hell with the devil: leaving poor men to beg, that cannot come by their money: when the labourer, the widow, and the fatherless, come weeping to the door for the payment of a poor reckoning, and with a check or a ●aunt, either deferred for a little, or with nothing but a rebuke sent away: while the Executor come out puffing after a banquet, the h●re come prouding after new apparel, the sister pricking as towards the hope of a gallant husband, and the guests with curtisies, and I thank you for my good cheer going home, the poor wretch, with a cold comfort, must walk away with a poor pittance, breaking his heart with the sighs of his soul to see the misery of his fortune, Is not this a pitiful case? Mill. It is a most pitiful Case, but who can help it when men's hearts are so shut up in their purses, that money comes from them like their heart blood: and with wicked consciences rather die indebted to many, to enrich their posterity, then leave order for the payment of their debts, even out of their supper 〈◊〉: but I hope, there are not many such: But to go along with you, let me tell you, which I think you have not heard of, a pitiful Case indeed: I think as we have yet spoken of, the overthrow of 〈◊〉. 〈◊〉 estate. Dal. It is the first time that I heard of the manner of it, but of his decay I have heard, and sorry to hear of it, and therefore, I pray you let me hear you deliver as I know you will, the truth of it. Mill. I will: and thus it was. The Gentleman, as you know, a proper man, well carried, well qualified, and well disposed, deeply read, and sound studied, one whom his friends had good hope of, and many men of great wisdom did converse withal for his judgement, in the midst of all expectation of his fortune and well doing in the world, falls into acquaintance and too much affection, with a Scholar that hath more learning than honesty, who to gain a little wealth, cared not whom he brought to beggary, and fell so far into an overweening of his wits, and giving such an applause to his reasons, that for the spending of a little money, he should grow into a mountain of gold, and so long led through fools paradise with hopes of strange working in natures, that every day impairing his estate, by the defraying the charge of his expense, persuading him to make gold of dross, he found nothing in the end, but to bring indeed gold to dross, for when his land was sold for money his money went for coals, glasses, bricks, and bellows, and I know not how many necessaries, as he was persuaded to be at charge with, for the making gold by the Admirable Science of A●camist: when this glass was broken, and that fire was out, and this and that must be renewed, and I know not what must be laid out, till there were nothing to lay in, when the poor gentleman saw himself thus mocked with imagination, and cozened by illusions, that he found Alcamist, to be 〈◊〉: which is, All mist: amazed to find himself All hid in a mist, where through want of a clear sight, ●e grew so blind, that he could never see a penny in his purse: Oh, how it strooke him to the heart to see the woeful fruit of his wilful folly: believe me carele in a manner, either of himself, or what might befall him, he fell to such a melancholy humour, as with inward sorrow, sighing, and sobbing, desirous always to be solitary, and out of company, fell at last into a consumption, and so as a dead man upon the earth, walketh up and down as you see. And is not this a most pitiful Case, to see a proper man a handsome man, an honest man, a wise man a learned man, and a rich man made such a Stale such an ●sse, and such a money, to undo himself, to sell all he hath and with sorrow to wear himself to the bones, for a hope of wonders out of the wit of a villain, that only studied Philosophy, to use a fool o so fie? Believe me, in mine opinion it is a pitiful Case. Dal. It was indeed: and is a most pitiful Case, to see how many are so cozened in the world, by imagination of miraculous courses in nature: but let them burn that will needs leap into the fire: in one sense. I mean, in Charity I could pity their misery, but truly I cannot but laugh at there folly, that, in so seeking to make gold of lead, put themselves cleans cut of silver. But let us leave these long Cases: and in brief answer me to such Cases, as I will put you. Mill. As I can I will. Dalinea Well then first tell me your opinion in this: Is it not a pitiful Case, to see a proper man without money? Mill. It is. Dal. And to see a fair woman without wit? Mill. No less. Dal. And an old man lecherous? Mill Alas poor man. Dalinea And a young man vicious? Mill He will be sped. Dal. And a rich man covetous. Mill. 'tis pity that he hath so much. dal. And a whore undo an honest man? Mill Fie upon her, there are too many of them. Dal. And a fool in Authority? Mill. Woe be to that government. Dal. And a beggar an horseback? Mill. Let him ride like a Rascal. Dal. And a gentleman on soot? Mill. I would he had my horse. Dal. And a monkey kiss a woman? Mill. I ●auoured urchin. Dal. And a dog 〈◊〉 a man? Mill. ●ang him Cur. Dal. And a ●orse 〈◊〉 his Rider? Mill. 〈◊〉 fortune. Dal. And a ●enne C●ow trodden? Mill. Cut her throa●e. Dal. And a Before kill a ●ambe? Mill. Set dogs upon him. Dal. And a woman beat her husband? Mill. Let his neighbour ride. Dalinea And a poor man arrested? Mill. God help him. Dal. And a villain rich? Mill. Beware a mischief. Dal. And a Lover deceived? Mill. ●oo common. Dal. And a deceiver, beloved? Mill. Oh pitiful! Dal. And a good tale ill told? Mill. ●acke o● wit. Dal. And a lie 〈◊〉? Mill. Fie on flattery. Dal. And love abused? Mill. Ill nature. Dal. And abuse favoured? Mill. Ill judgement. Dal. And war 〈◊〉? Mill. ●is dang rou●. Dal. And peace 〈◊〉? Mill. 'tis impious. Dal. And a Soldier beg? Mil. It is grievous. Dal. And a Pudding burn? Mil. No, it skills not: 'tis a thing of nothing. Dal. And a Goose go barefoot? Mil. It is natural. Dal. And a woman weep? Mil. It is ordinary. Dal. And an Ass loaded? Mil. He serves for it. Dal. And an Ape clothed? Mil. 'tis the Bearwards gain. Dal. And a Greyhound spurned? Mil. A churlish nature. Dal. And a Mastiff stroked? Mil. The Clowns jewel. Dal. And a Tree fruitless? Mil. Cut it down. Dal. And a friend faithless? Mil. Trust him not. Dal. And a workman lazy? Mil. Pay him not. Dal. And a servant idle? Mil keep him not. Dal. And a Wife graceless? Mil. Love her not. Dal. You answer briefly, but not directly to my propositions: I ask you if all these be not pitiful Cases? Mil. No: some are, and some are not. Dal. Which are not? Mil. Why a bare▪ foot Goose, for she can wear no shoes, but she would leave them in the water: and a weeping woman when she crieth for cursed heart: and a bearing Ass, for he is good for nothing else: ● an Ape in his coat, for he makes sport for fools. These and a number more of this nature, I think need not greatly to be pitied: for others, you may judge my mind by mine answers. Dal. You say well: & yet let the Goose alone to feed with the Gander: but to the woman, I think when she weeps she cries not, and then a kind heart will pity her: and to load an Ass too much may break his back: and to clothe an Ape too richly, is cost ill bestowed: and therefore some way there is, none of these things but are to be pitied. Mil. I hold with you; but let us leave this short chepping of Cases & a little speak of a Case too pitiful to be spoken of if it could be helped. Say, that I should marry your daughter, being a widow, and being possessed of pre●ty lands of her own inheritance, by her mother (who you lately buried) and having lived with my said wife some few years, in love and kindesse, till she be forced to walk the way of all flesh, and then she having a daughter, heir to h●r said lands, living with some of her friends far from her; I knowing this daughter true heir to these lands, do against my conscience, pass away this land unto a man of wealth, who if it ever come in question, can follow the Law with a good Purse: the Heir comes to claim her right: I am dead; he that hath bought it keeps her from it, and the Law finds means to keep her from it. Is not this a pitiful Case? Dal. Yes, and pity but it should be better plea●ed, that the Heir might have her right, and the oppressor either be punished, or put to pay for it. Mil. Well said, then let me tell you this: If a Rogue cut a Purse, and put it in my pocket, I be demanded the Purse, and knowing myself clear from the thought of such a villainy, do in fury deny it, & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 th● Purse is ●ound about me, & I apprehended for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, except the thief come to clear me, am like to hang for it: Is not this a pitiful Case? Dal. Oh Lord, who would ●ot think so. And to answer you, if a filthy whore begotten 〈◊〉 child by a rascal knave, & be counseled by her 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 upon me, if she will 〈◊〉 at● though she for 〈◊〉 it 〈◊〉 as mine, I must be at th● charge 〈◊〉 keeping of it, and suffer I 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 what trouble for it, to my great discredit, and almost undoing: Is not this a pitiful Case? Dal. Yes in truth, and grievous: but to quite you. Say that you are a poor man, and simply honest; I like a Gallant come riding on the high way, upon a horse that I have stolen but a little before, and am pursued for: I seem to light to untruss a point, and knowing the Country, deliver you my horse to lead on a little on the way, and give you a small piece of money for your pains, promising to come presently back unto you: when I wake away through a Wood to a Ferry, and so shift away and leave you; you are taken with the horse, & if the Country be not the better unto you, you must hang for your kindness: Is not this a pitiful Case? Mil. A miserable Case: but leaning hanging Cases, let me ask your opinion touching some few Cases, that come suddenly into my mind. Dal. With all my heart, and I will deliver you my judgement, what I think of them. Mil Then say this. To give whitebread to a dog, and brown to a man: Is it not a pitiful Case? Dal. It is, and it is not. Mil. How so? Dal. It is pitiful in respect of the bread, that was ordained rather for men than dogs; but of the gift no pity: for it is better to make much of a profitable dog, than an unprofitable man. Mil. Well then, is it not pity to see a wise man poor, and a fool rich? Dal. It is, and it is not. Mil. As how? Dal. It is pity that wisdom should want, but wealth will corrupt a good wit, and a wise man may live by his wits, while a fool may beg if he want money. Mil Well said: but is it not pity to see good meat ill dresset? Dal. No▪ for if it were well dressed, it might cause surfeiting by too much pleasing the taste, where now a little well digested may do nature no hurt: but yet in respect of the meat it is pity: so that in a privale dish it is not well, but in a pub●: Feast, it is no great matter. Mil. Well Sir, but to see an honest quiet man matched with a scold? Dal. It is, and it is not: ●or though in respect of his better desert, it is a pity, yet in regard it is an exercise of his patience, it is profitable, and so no pity. Mil. But to see a careful master matched with a careless servant, is it not to be pitied? Dal. I say as I said, it is, and it is not: for though in respect of his hindrance it is a pity, yet for that it will keep him from laziness, in having a careful eye over all his business, it is good for him, and so not pitiful. Mil. Well said: but to see a fi●e wench in rags, and an 〈◊〉 favoured Slut well clothed, is it not a pity? Dal. I say as I did still, it is and it is not; the Wench better deserves it: but in respect her beauty with a little virtue will get a better matter, than clothing without wealth, it is no pity: & since it is easy to consider, that the Crones clothing is all her countenance, & without the which she may go ●ry kitchen-stuff for her comfort: it is pity but she should have something to help, that is worse than nothing: and the wench being virtuous in her poverty, might perhaps be wicked if she were wealthy, and so (as I said) it is, and it is not pity. Mil. Well then, what say you to this: Is not the wreak of a ship, a pitiful sight? Dal. It is so one way, & it is not another: for in respect of the commonwealths loss, that might have made good use of that she brought it was a pity: yet in respect that it was a mean to humble the proud spirit of him 't ought it▪ it is not pitiful. Mil. You speak to some purpose: but yet I do, & not allow of your opinion in many points: but for that w● come rather to talk of Cases, than ●o fall out about Cases, let your opinion stand firm, for it is not much 〈◊〉: & let me tell you of a pitiful Case that be●ell of late in a little village, about a 〈◊〉 from my house. Dal. Come on: and ten to one, but if my memory fas●e me 〈◊〉, I shall requi●e you with another worth the hearing. Mill. Then hear me, thus it was. An old woman, a very old woman, a crooked old woman, a creeping old woman, a lame woman, a deaf woman, a miserable woman, a wretched woman, a wicked woman, f●ll with half a sight (for shortly after she fell blind) in leave with a pretty neat nimble, spru●e, ●ly, handsome, & in truth, lovely young man, and so fair, as after the manner of the country people, she would if she met him in a morning bid him good morrow, with how do you son? I pray you come near, if it were near her house, and I pray ●ou sit down, and I pray you drink, and how doth your good father, and your mother, and all your house? In ●roath, you are welcome, I am sorry I have no géed cheer for you but such as I have I pray you do not spare, if I have any thing in my house, it is at your command: In deed, I ever loved y●u of a child, and if I had a daughter I would give her with all I have to you, that I would, I truly would I: but and you could make much of an old woman, it may be, I have some old Ruddocks that saw no day these twenty winters and ten, that may make a young man merry: yea, and perhaps make you live by their noses that hold their heads full high. And ●hus, with showing of him all her wealth, which she conjured 〈◊〉▪ to keep secret, & giving a piece of gold or two with him▪ she made h●n do, y●a mary did he, that which his conscience had no comfort in, and he found no good of: for having robbed her 〈◊〉 of a great deal a come only bearing her in hand to be her A●se-band, and for a little ●fauoured kindness, it fell out that shortly after▪ he fa●ling in love with a neighbour's daughter, a we●ch worthy the lo●king on when all parti●s were agreed, the matter was made up, hands were joined, hearts were joyful, ●he ●anes were 〈◊〉, the Bride and 〈◊〉 w●re married, the guests were bidden the dinner w●s ready, the minstrels played the youth danced and the old fools ●aught, and the day was w●ll past, and nothing longed for ●ut night, and then the supper do●e, the guest's departed then curtes●e and I thank you, the Rich had their bellies full, and the beggars had their pockets full▪ and the house was at qui●t, the doors were shut, the fire and candle put out the bed made soft, and the sheets white washed, ●nd the pillows sprinkled with rose water, and all things in order, for the comfort of these young couple: the old woman that grew mad at this match, though she durst not forbid the banes, being at the church, and hearing of diverse saying God give you joy, fell to mumbling to herself, and some sorrow too when how she wrought with her Enchantment, I know not, but, the young people might kiss, while she might sigh▪ and he fret, but there was ●s further matter to be performed: and this continued some two years, till she in love and modesty, concealing her misery, & he seeking all means h● could for his comfort, and finding no●e, met by chance with this old woman, and in a mistrust that she had done him some villainy with her ill tongue, fell upon her, and throwing her down, ●rode upon her, & did beat her, till he left her for dead: and indeed she never eat bread after, for going home to her house, belike going about some other hellishnes, her Cruch slipping, sh● fell over the threshold, and broke her neck: when the young man came home and talked so kindly with his wif●, that within for●ie weeks after she brought him a goodly boy: And is not this a pitiful Case, that a man should so long be tormented by the wicked tongue of a woman? Dal. A woman, you would say the shape of a woman, for a witch is but a dwell Incarnat●: it is pity that any of them are suffered to live. But to req●ate you: not many ●iles from the town where I dwell the●e ●as an old man, 〈◊〉 o●d m●n, a coughing, sneveling, bleer- 〈◊〉 wry mouthed, botle-n●sed, 〈◊〉 legged, pallie handed stump footed, w●y bodied, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, slandering tongue, fo●▪ stinking breathed, who walked but upon cruches, read but with spectacles, and spoke with a wa●ing, nodding, or a noddy head, this ongly 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 rather abject of nature, the sorrow of ●outhes e●e sight, the disprofit o● time, th● hate of love, and the lamentation of hope, such a man as is not in the world to be seen, by very ill ●ortune, upon a fair day chanced to meet with a Tenant's daughter of his, whom having well viewed, as his dumne sight would giu● him leave, giving a nod to her courtesy, sent the next day for her to his house, but the wench the day before having so much of his sight, that she desired never to see him more, with bitter tears fell at her father's feet, and desired him to go and know his pleasure, and make excuse for her, that she was not well, but the next day she would come to him: the poor man seeing his daughter change colour, did yield to her request, put on his best shoes, & a clean band, & being but a little way to his house, through want of a horse went on foot, when, but a little wet-shod, with slipping into a ditch, he comes at last to the door of this rich Clown who being head Bailiffs to the chief Lord of the manner, kept a house, the best thatched of all his neighbours in the parish, there being saluted, by a couple of soul curs, not much unlike their old master, being of his old acquaintance, showed him but their teeth, & then wagging their tails, did him no harm, but let him there stay till this Chaps, the old mezil, ●earing his dogs, and knowing their voices, came out to hear whom they talked too, and there seeing this poor man, stand cap in hand, setting hunsclfe down upon a bench, after a horse cough, and a spalling spit or two, begins to ask him for his daughter, whose excuse being made, he falls aboard with him for her, to have her for his servant: which, he answering with an excuse, that it could not be, for she had taken earnest of a gentlewoman, to wait on her in her chamber: which he believing, answered that he would do more ●or her then any gentlewoman of them all; for he had no children, and he would make her both his child and his wife: and therefore she should take no ear for service: the poor man glad of this message, went home merrily to his daughter, told her what good fortune was towards her, for joy sent for the other pot, & now thought to take no care for rent, when his child should be his Landlady: but the poor girl seeming to her father to be as joyful as he, when her father was gone to his days work in the morning, took an old sack, in which she put up all her clothes that she had, and away goes she to an Aunt she had ten miles of, and there with howling and crying, that her father meant to marry her to the devil, entreated her to put her to service, ●r she had rather wash ●uckes all days of her life, then be matched with such a monster: Oh Aunt, every body says, that he killed his last wife with kindness, and I think he would do as much with me. Oh 'tis a venom man, as lives: and truly Aunt it is such an ill-favoured man, and he hath such a breath, It is a beastly creature: besides the house that he dwells in, he hath but his life in, but if he had all the world, and as much good, as would lie in all your house, I would not have him, I had rather beg my bread. Her Aunt seeing the honest heart of the poor wench, and knowing that she could set a seam together, and handl● her needle prettily, for a plain hem, & could tell how to eat a piece of meat however she could dress it, spoke to a gentlewoman near unto her to take her into her service, drove a bargain for her wages, brought her to her, and placed her with her: where she behaved herself well, and was well thought on: and there I leave her Now home comes her father, misseth his daughter, runs to his Landlord, thinking to find her there: the micher thinks he is mockte, he falls out with his Tenant, warns him out of his house, the poor man goes home weeping, his wife with her hands wring, entertains him with a scolding, railing upon him, cursing her Landlord, and swears she will have her home, hang him dog, he shall not be the death of her daughter, she will not dwell in his house, she will have her child out of his house, or she will beats down his doors: and is as good as her word, the next morning with an open mouth goes to his doors, where loud then both his Mastiffs, she maketh an outcry for her child. The man knowing her to be an unreasonable woman, entreats her to be quiet, swears by the cross of his Crutch, that he knows not whither she is gone: and with much ado to pacify her, gets himself rid of her: when coming home, and not finding her dear daughter, she falls into such an agony, that a horse would not abide it, when the poor man with grief takes such thought, that he can eat no meat, and she weary & almost out of breath with scolding, goes to bed for anger: and the old man with sorrow to lose his love, and to see her parent's misery, after a fit of the stone, with a stitch of the Colic, being gripped at the heart, & fearing to leave the world, sends for his Tenant, forgives him his rent, & gives his house to his daughter if she be found again: and so bestowing among the poor of the Parish, some little matter not worth the speaking of having made all means he could, and by her parents good care and travail, found out, and brought unto him some hour before his death, gave her in an old foul Handkerchief that, which paid for more than the washing of two fair Smocks, and so causing the great Bell to be telled, after a hollow hem or two▪ even for Love, (because he could live no longer died. And is not this of a long Case? a pitiful Case? Mil Yes, if it were true, but surely 'tis a jest: there was ●euer such a man▪ nor such a matter. Dal. Well then, say it were a jest, was it not a pitiful jest? Mil. If there were any pity, it was in that he lived so long. But now after your long Case, let me come to you with a short Case. Is it not pity to see a fair house without Inhabitants? Dal. It is, and it is not. Mil. How so? Dal. It is in respect of good Hospitality a pity: but rather than be either a den of thieves, or a Brothel of Whores, it were better stand void, and so it is no pity. Mil. Well then: but is it not a pitity to see a purse without money? Dal. In respect of want is is: but rather than be filled with unlawful or ungodly gains, it were better be empty. Mil. So: but is it not a pity to see good clothes ill worn? Dal. It is, and it is not: in regard of the good clothes it is pity, but in respect of the wear● it is not: ●or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 better to be careless, then proud. Dal. Well humorde. But is it not a pity to see a man blind? Mil. Why? would you have all so▪ that one should not see an other? or how would you know blindness, if all had their sight? Mil. Well, and is it not pity to see a woman dumb? Dal. Oh! than the Market would be spoiled. Mil. Is it not pity to have a Dog deaf? Dal. Hang him for his skin. Mil. Is it not pity to see a Horse lame? Dal. Keep him for a Stallien, or let him feed Hounds▪ Mil. Or a Hawk lack a wing? Dal. Pull off her head. Mil. Or a Wolf kill a Lamb▪ Dal. Hunt him to death. Mil. What say you to a storm in Harvest? Dal. It will drive the Farmer to prayers, and the labourers to work apace. Mil. So then, I see your sullen humour will not be altered: yet, as too much pity mars a whole City, so a dogged mind is too near the devil. But it may be, and so I guess it, that you only out of your humour, without spite at any thing, speak all that you do, and therefore I will entreat you a little farther to deliver me your opinion, touching some other Cases. Dal. I am for you. Mil. Is it not pity to see an Infant starved? Dal. Hang the Nurse. Mil. To see a Church robbed? Dal. Strangle the thief. Mil. To see a Christian become a jew? Dal. Put him to the fire. Mil. To see a son kill his father? Dal. Bury him quick. Mil. What say you to see a Clown scorn a Lo●? Dal. Marry him to a Whore▪ Mil. To see a Witch kill a child? Dal. Send her to the devil. Mil. Your answers are bitter. Dal. The Cases are villainous. Mil. Well, yet what say you to Sheep without a Shepherd? Dal. Ware the Wools●. Mil. A horse without a Rider? Dal. Ware his heels. Mil. A Soldier in drink? Dal. Beware mischief. Mil. A house of ●hie Dal. Ware the whole Town. Mil. An honest man a Cuckold? Dal. Ill Fortune. Mil. And a fair wench wicked? Dal. Weakness in Nature? Mil Or the penitent punished? Dalinea Tyranme. Mil. Or the wicked spared? Dal. Oh! 〈◊〉 money. Mil. Or the honest scorned? Dal. Corruption of time. Mil. Or a man womanish? Dal. Shoe the Goose. Mil. Or a woman tyrannous? Dal. A Fury. Mil. Oh Dalio, thou art still one man: I thank thee for thy plamelesse: but searing that I trouble thee with too many Cases, let me hear some from you. Dal. And shall. I pray you what think you of this Case? What say you to a young wench sleepy? Mil. Ware her Maidenhead. Dal. To a covetous Lawyer? Mil. Woe be to she Client. Dal. To a slovenly Courtier● Mil. Banish him the Presence. Dal. To a dicing Merchant? Mil. Ware the Stock●. Dal. What say you to a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ Mil. Ware the Campe. Dal. To a careless Farmer? Mil. He will die a beggar. Dal. To a lazy workman? Mil. A whip, a whip. Dal. To a counterleit Cripple? Mil. An open punishment. Dal. To a faithless friend? Mil. Give him the Knave of Clubs for a Cognizance. Dal. To a malicious enemy? Mil. Beware Treason. Dal. To a smooth tongued quean? Mil. Take heed of witchcraft. Dal. To a lying Rascal? Mil. Lose no time with him. Dal. To a desperate 〈◊〉? Mil. Aueyd his company. Dal. To a shameless woman? Mil. Let no man abide her. Dal. Well said: but to go along with you a little to answer you in one point: if I were bitter, you are not sweet: for so much as I have yet heard from you (I speak it not in dislike of you, but to be quittance with you) and therefore let me farther ask your opinion in this Case. I lend you money to do you good, and you game by it: and when I come at my day to demand it, you have it, & will not pay it: another lends me money and I loose by it: at the day appointed, I would & cannot pay it: you are rich & will not pay, I am poor & cannot pay: yet you hold the reputation of an honest man, after many delays, an● I for one days breach an▪ accounted contrary: Is this a pitiful Case or not? Mil In truth I think the Case is pitiful, that I should have so much credit, and so 〈◊〉 conscience: and you so good a conscience, and so ●ll a fortune. Dal. You say right. Now farther let me put you another Case: Say, that I should lend you a s●ord, to wear for a day or two: you in a wor●e mind than I would wish you, fall by the high way upon a Purse, in his hands, that will not easily part with it, you fight with him, and kill him, and take away his money, and leave the sword either s●icking in him, or being pursued for the murder, by some mischance in riding or running, lose the sword, or let it fall, and in haste, running for life, will not light for the sword, but by your horse's swiftness, or what means I know not get away without tuch, the sword is found, carried from Cutler to Cutler, till it be known who made it, and in the end being sound out who made it, and who bought it, I am showed the sword, and cannot deem it to be mine, if I cannot bring forth the thief, I must answer the Law, and hang for my kindness: Is not this a pitiful Case? Dal. Yes truly: in conscience this suspicion and presumption, are shrewd points to condemnation: but though he that is borne to be hanged will never be drowned till he be dead, yet me thinks it is a pitiful Case, to hang a true man for a thief. And now let me put you another Case: Say that I should, loving you as I do, commit as I durst into your hand all the stock of my money that I have, and you and I take a shop together, and sell our wares together, you having as God forbid you should, some wicked spirit of covetousness entered into your ill conscience, watch a time, when I were out of doors go into my Countinghouse, take all my money and writings, and at my return, begin to thrust me out of doors, pick● some quarrel with me, bid me seek mine own as I can, and so without pacification, resolved to play the villain with me, dr●w me to sue by Law to recover mine own, while with commodity of my coin, you find means to use me as you list, and so long weary me with the suit, being not able to hold wage 〈◊〉 you, that in the end I am enforced either to leave it, or to compound with you for a thing of nothing, and putting up all 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in vr●ed to make you an acquittance for all matters: to ●ischarge you for all claims to my utter undoing, and have no remedy: but crave patience of God, while you are going to the devil: Is not this a pitiful Case? Mill. It is: but let the devil seek out his copesmates. I have nothing to do with him, I deaf him, and all his tricks, and so I hope do you, God bless us from him. Dal. Amen. For if there ever was such a Case, it was hellishly handled, that the Law could no better determine it, but that a knave should so be the undoing of an honest man: but, leaving more to talk of these Cases, is it not a pitiful Case, to see a rich man who in the show of the world hath been reputed a man of honesty, and good conscience, upon the sudden, either at a banquet, or upon a bench of Authortiy fall sick, so be carried home, there lie raving and crying out of the devil, have no mind of God, but only calling for his keys, look over his bags, and curse every one that comes at him, and like a dog, or a devil, without the thought of Christianity, leaving his wealth to he knows not whom, dies like a log: and so is tumbled into the dirt with a number of tears, that he died no sooner: and he no sooner in his grave but his son hangs himself, his daughters prove all whores, his servants either beg or filch for their living, for want of other ways, or any thing left them by their wicked master: and thus upon a sudden is the fall of the whole house of wickedness: Is not this a pitiful Case, that the world should be so blinded with the outside of hypocrisy, to take such a jew for a Christian? Dal. Pity? yes, it is pity, that ever he was begotten, that he died not in his birth, or that he should ever look like a man, to be so inward with the devil: but I hope there is no such man in this world. But tell me your opinion, in this Case: If a young wench that were of a pure complexion, and of good feature, well thought of for her good behaviour, & with a little wealth, might be a companion for an honest man, should, by falling into the company of some idle girls, learn to paint herself, and to make strange faces▪ with leering eyes▪ and mumping chaps, and fleeting smiles, after the whore fashion, to draw fools to an ill banquet, and so, continuing this ill course. doth spoil her complexion, spill a good face▪ and become of the 〈◊〉 of Bridewell and so from one degree of shame to another, to destruction in the end: Is it not a pitiful Case that ever such idle s●ares should be brought into a common wealth, or ever such wickedness should be practised among honest people. Mill. Yes, in truth is it: but what is the help? I know not: and therefore it is the mere pitiful, that a mischief so to be pitied cannot be helped. Dal. Then let it alone: and let us talk of some other matters. Mill. Content. But me thinks the day grows towards an e●o, the Sun is setting, and I have a start home: and having pron●sed my wife to be at home▪ by fi●e of the clock, I would be ●oth to break my word with her: for you know her humour, and having some of her country tolkes come to see her, she means to bestow some good cheer upon them: and therefore if you dare venture a scolding joint with your woman, go along with me, and howsoever i● will be hereafter, I dare warrant you a welcome: for she m●anes to be 〈◊〉: the Cayon and Goose are both ●ild. Dal. But the Gander is left alive. Mill. Yea she keeps him for breed, to give you a Gos●ing. Dal. Well said old wag, I thinks I shall never die in thy debt: and therefore since all wodcockes have long bills, let us take our flights together. Mill You say well: and since all Asses have great heads, let none be ashamed of his long ears. Dal. Good again: And since all Goats have beards, let them be known from sheep. Mill A goodyer on you, for me, I hope there are none in my flock. Dal. If there be, remove them, for they will not do well together: but look you, who comes ●onder? Mil. It is my boy, his mother hath sent for me I must away, to morrow is market day▪ and if you w●l, ● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 you here at this Oak, and we will have some talk o● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Dalinea Content, farewell: for though I say little. I know its good to keep women in quie●, that will 〈◊〉 for a 〈◊〉 matter, especially if their husbands lie not at home: farewell. Mill. Farewell. When they had thus ended their Cases, and given each other a good night, and came home to their wives in good time, that all things were quiet for that night▪ the next day about nine of the clock in the morning, according to promise they met at the place appointed, the great Oak, under which, when they had a little 〈◊〉 themselves, upon their walking staves, atter a little 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 s●lutations, with good morrow, and well met, and how do● you with all your household? well I thank God, and I thank you, and God hol● it, and so forth: taking up their cudgels, with come, go, the morning goes away, and the market will be done, away they go together, and being some four or five miles to the town, they fell into new matters, to talk upon, which, if you will ●ary, 〈◊〉 they be written, as I have heard them, true or false as they be you shall have them, in the time, hoping you will have patience with this, till you hear of what follows, I will thus end. A merry Case is wittifull: A woeful Case is pitiful▪ The wittifull doth breed but jest: The pitiful, may breed unrest: Then leave the last, and take the first: And take the best, and leave the worst. FINIS.