I Pray you be not Angry, for I will make you merry  
A pleasant and merry dialogue, between two Travellers, as they met on the Highway  
LONDON Printed by A. M. for Samuel Rand and are to be sold at his Shop at Holborn Bridge. 1624.   

A merry Dialogue between two Travellers upon the Highway, touching their Crosses: and of the virtue of patience.  Fabiano, and Fernuno. Fernuno. 
FAbian, Good morrow: how do you? and how fare walk you this way?  Fabian. 
I do as you see, neither of the best, nor the worst: and am travelling not very fare; & yet somewhat more than a pretty walk; about some hundreth miles or two for a breathing, to teach the dancing legs of my youth, to plod for the provision of mine old age: and since it is no better, it is well it is no worse: For since I have done myself more wrong, than I can make myself amends, I must content myself with a pudding, while other may feast, that have better fare.  Fern. 
Then, I pray you be not Angry: for Patience is a plaster for all pain, it is the very poison of all sorrow, a preparative to all comfort, and the only quieter of a troubled spirit.  Fab. 
Why how now? Have you been a Scholar since I saw you: Truly I desire not to trouble your memory, with saying over your lesson without book: all your Aduerbes and your Proverbes, will not do me a pins worth of pleasure.  Fern. 
Oh Fabian! have patience be not angry with your Fortune, there are Floods as well as Ebbs: Time hath his turn and Fortune may be as great a friend, as she hath been an enemy: the Stars may one day shine as well over your house, as your neighbours; and therefore stay your hour, you know not when it will come; and therefore take no thought: I pray you be not Angry.  Fab. 
Well Fernuno, to your sentences: let me tell you, that you know that I know, that you know, that when you and I did first know one another, you knew the world was better with me, then to let me plod up and down in this manner, with no more company but my Dog, and my plain Cudgel: but 'tis no matter, all is one; for having played wily beguily with myself, I can thank no body for my hard bargain: for in the time of my youth (the most perilous point of man's age) falling into such acquaintance as were smally to my commodity, as well of the Masculine as the Feminine gender, who so long fed my humour with folly, that I fell almost into a Consumption, before I sound the nature of the disease: at length, (though somewhat late, yet better late, then never) remembering that my father lest me more Land than Wit; and Nature being more Mistress than Reason over my ill ruled Senses: and seeing the world at such a pass, that I could have well wished to have been out of it: finding my Friends scorn of me, my Foes feoff at me, some few pity me, and few comfort me, I resolved to shake of my Shake-ragges, and to retire myself unto some solitary place; where, having left one. Fool, to laugh at another; one villain to cut another's throat, and one Honest man to be example to a whole Parish, I betook me to a travelling life, rather to hear then to speak how the World went: and to note the courses of the Wise, rather than to enter into the courses of the Wicked: whereof the World is so full, that a man can scarce escape their infection: Why? if I should tell you how I have braes used among them, you would say I had good cause to be Angry with myself, or some body else.  Fern. 
And yet I say, I pray you be not Angry: For, if it be with yourself, Fretting will but breed Melancholy; and Melancholy bring you to such a Sickness, that you may repent it when it is too late. And to be Angry with any other, if you cannot revenge it, it is a folly: if you do it is uncharitable; for you must forgive. For, if I should tell you of some tricks that were put upon me, when I was as wise as a Goose on Beadlame Green, I should make you believe that, although I preach Patience to you, I should have cause to have little acqu●ntance with her myself: But spite of the Devil, I hope to go to heaven: and though I carry more Crosses in my heart then in my Purse, yet I hope (with my fellow Beggar) to be in Abr●hams bosom, when a rich Churl shall dance with Dives in a worse place: and therefore as a friend, let me say to you, knowing what is good for you; Whatsoever Fortune befall you, I pray you be not Angry.  Fab. 
I must confess it is good Council to have Patience; for Patience is a pretty Virtue, but that it waits upon a number of Villains: But let me tell you, if a man spend all the money in his purso upon a company of unthankful Villains, and when he cometh to the bottom of his Purse, and there finding nothing. Intreateth with his friends (as he hath held them) but for an Ordinary or two; and scoffingly put off, cannot get a Penny among them: What can you have in all the rule of Patience? only fret at the heart to hear men say, I pray you be not Angry.  Fern. 
And yet let me tell you, That when Anger will not avail him, it is better to be Patient, then Angry: for I have heard it spoken by a Wise man. That he who cannot be Angry, is a Fool: but he that will be Angry, is more Fool: For when I was (as you said, and I may say) in the prime of my time, I may say in the foolish pride of youth, when all the Gold in the Parish, was Copper to my Silver: and my Wit was beyond Reason; when I was the only Fool of the World: Oh then (to tell you) I was over taken in the half turn, would make one run out of his wits, and into them again if it were possible: for say this, If a man have no deformity in his proportion, is no Woodcock for his ordinary course of Wit, hath Wealth enough to live by his Neighbours without borrowing, is of Parentage with the best of the Parish, is in the way of good speed with a Match worth the making of: and leaving all honest wise, and good council, forsaketh his Fortune, and binds himself apprentice during life to an ill favoured Baggage, the worst Child that her father had, whose beauty is like the back of a sea-coal Chimney; and for proportion, the true proportion of a sea-crab, as much wit as a grey Goose, and manners as a blind Mare, and no more wealth than the Wool on a shorn Sheep: beside, the issue of idle drunkenness, which being grounded in all foollishnesse, can away with nothing but worse than nothing: whose tongue can keep no secrets, whose heart can think no goodness, and whose life is a world of unquietuesse: and spite of his heart having taken he for better or worse, (when she cannot well be worse, and will be no better) must hold out his life worse than ten deaths with her: Say yourself, that when a man thinks of this misery, it would fret him to the very heart: But where is the remedy.  Fab. 
Oh! I pray you be not angry: For if a man should have a Sister whom he Loves Deacely, whose Beauty with Virtue, were a Dowry for a Prince, her Lineage Noble, her Personage comely, her nature kind, and her government so discreet, that by the judgement of the wife, we was a match for the worthy: to see this blessed creature, by the cruelty of the Fates bestowed upon the bastard son of a Beggar, whose Father was a billaine, his Mother a foole, and he a Changeling: whose eyes were three foot out of his head, his nose too long for his month, and his skin to wide for his face, his head like a highway with a little heath on either side, and his beard bending to the Alehouse, from thence came the original of his little honour: and for his under proportion, an answering to the upper parts: whose wit was only practised in villainy, whose hart studied but Hell, while his soul was sworn servant to the Devil: and yet this rascal Viper shall, only with his golden I laws, creep into the hands (for in the heart he could never) of a pretty Wench, and carry her a way into such a world of discontentments, that she could never leave sorrowing till she had got into her grave. Would it not fret such a Brother as had such a Sister; or chafe such a Lover as had such a Love, to see such an overthrow of his comfort, or confusion of his kind hope.  Fern. 
Oh! I Pray you be not Angry: For Marriage and Hanging (some say) go by destinte: and although Hanging is but a short pain, and marriage is a lingering misery, where disagreement is a deadly life: yet since we cannot go against the will of the higher powers, Patience is a plaster, that will in time draw a man's heart out of his belly, except he have more wit to govern his passion. But leaving love toys, let me tell you, that if a man finding by some old writings in his mother's chest, that his Father had Title to a piece of Land, which for want of a good purse, he durst never make challenge to it, and say that I were the man, and I by the witness of my honest ancient neighbours, can approve it in good conscience to be mine own in right of Law; and thereupon ask counsel, and paying for words by weight, and by my learned council persuaded that it is mine past all plea. And thus playing with my Nose, or rather with my purse, till all be spent; with Demurs & tricks he dryness me to beggary, with suing for mine own right, while he goes gay with my money, and I starne with his words; a vengeance upon his crafty conveyance. Would not this fret a man's soul to think on it, and cannot help it.  Fab. 
Now God forbidden; I pray you be not Angry; for Law was ordalued for the best; and though in all professions some are too blame, yet no doubt, but some have such consciences, that they would not be corrupted for a kingdom; but Courts must have their fees, and Scholars must not study for nothing. But for that I am no good Lawyer, nor ever met with any bribes, I have nothing to say to them; but wish the wicked their reward, while the honest may take heed by their example: & so leaving them all to the day of their death, I will tell you of another matter.  
Say that I had a friend, at least as I take him & loving him so dear that I durst, nay I do trust him with all that I am worth; and being to take a voyage either upon command or commodity, fearing some ill courses to be taken for my children if I should die, knowing women generally so sorrowful for a lost husband, that they will not tarry long for a new; and what fathers in law be to orphans, while widow's sigh & say nothing, having (in trust to my friend) made a secret deed of gift of all my estate unto him, the rather that my wife and children may far the better; and now I have escaped many dangers by sea and land, and spoilt of all that I had with me, come home, hoping to find comfort yet at my own house with that I left behind me; and there no sooner entered in at the gate, but with a coy look, and a cold welcome, I find my wife either turned out of doors, or so badly used within, that she could well wish to be without; & then, if I take it unkindly, be bidden mend it as I can; and so with a frown or a frump, almost thrust out of doors, be constrained to go to Law for mine own living, while my mistaken friend having turned Turk, cares for nothing but his own commodity, & contrary to all conscience, plays with me for my own money, till the Lawyer and he together, have won me quite out of mine own land and so play me the Traitor with my trust; leave me in the misery of my fortune, to end my unhappy days; Now can you say to this, I pray you be not Angry?  Fern. 
Yes very well; for since you see no remedy, but God is such a God in the world, as makes the devil work many wonders among men, is it not better with patience to endure a cross, thou to crucify the soul with impatience. But say that you should have a wife that you thought did love you well, when she would struck your beard, and never lie from your lips, and would speak you as fair as Eve did Adam, when she cozened him with an Apple; would not abide an Oath for a bushel of Gold, and be so sparing of her purse, that she would not lose the dropping of her nose: bridle it in her countenance like a Mare that were knapping on a Cow-thistle: would wear no ruffs but of the small set, though of the sluect Lawn that might be gotten, and edged with a Lace of the best fashion: would not abide no imbrodery in her apparel, yet have the best stuff she could lay her hands on; and feed sparingly at dinner, when she had broke her fast in the bed; and miss not a Sermon, though she profited little by the word; This dissembling piece of flesh, making a show of lamentation, cut of the abundance of her little love, for lacko of your good company, if you were but a mile out of the Town: & if you were to take a journey, would lay an Onion to her eyes, to draw out the Rheum instéed of tears: & having eaten an apple, with pinching in a backward wind, send out a belching, sigh for sorrow of the absence of her Goose-man: and then after all these, and a world of other tricks, to bring a man in a bad belief of her good mind▪ if you returning home a night sooner than expected, & a year s●●ner then welcome, should (having Keys to your own Doors) come in, and find in your own bed botwixt the arms (I go no lower) of your too much beloved the living carcase of a lubberly rascal, or perhaps the perfumed corpses of some dainty compation, working upon the ground of your pleasure to plant the fruit of idle fancy, to the horne-griefe of your poor heart; could you be pacified with, I pray you be not Angry.  Fab. 
Indeed you put me to it, with an, If: But I hope there are no such women; fie for shame, it were enough to make murder: but Patience being the mean to save many a man's life, & that perhaps being the first fault, and she upon repentance after a secret reprehension likely to turn honest, were it not better to steal away, and have her maid to wake her, the matter cleanly shuffled up, and she with sorrow rather to confess it in secret, and to be sorry for it, and in shame of her fault to leave it, while few know it; rather then in a fury or franzy bring in your neighbours, raise up your house, beat your wife, imprison the knave, bring your wife to shame, and make the world privy to your cuckoldry: and so she in a desperate madness, either shameless after a little shame, or graceless in impatience to bear her correction, either cut her own throat, or yours, or both; and so all come to consension, through lack of a little charitable discretion: No, God forbidden, for rather than any such mischance should fall, is it not better to say, I pray you be not Angry.  
For to quit your discontentment, say that I should (as God forbidden I should) have married an honest woman, that hath brought me many pretty Children, is a good huswife in her house, careful for her children, and loving both to them and me; and for the space of many years, with a good opinion of all her neighbours, and good credit with all that know her, had passed some score of years or two with me, with as much contentment as a reasonable man might desire: & to make her amends for all her kindness, I should either take a whore into my house, or keep her as a hackney at, rack & manger abroad so long, till being led by the nose to believe that she love's me, when I pay for the nursing of half a dozen of bastards: of which, if I be the wicked Father, my conscience hath little comfort in: and if any other (as it is most likely) be the father or fathers, how am I beguiled to play poor noddy, to let my purse blood, to pay for the maintaining of another's pleasure? And at the last, if she find me abridge my liberality, in a venomous humour come with an outery to my door, with a nest of her fellow beggars, and there with railing upon me, calling me old leather, whoremonger, and I know not what; lay her brats down before my gate, & so with a gapeing mouth goeth her way leaving me to my purse only, to seek the saving of my credit, and so become a grief unto my wife, a sorrow to my Children, and a laughing stock to mine enemies, a byword among my neighbours, a shame to myself, and an enemy to mine own soul: and thus seeing my wealth wasted, my credit lost or impaired, and God so displeased, that I know not which way to turn myself; Shall I neither be Angry with the whore for bewraying me, nor with myself to let her so befool me?  Fern. 
No, I say as I did, I pray you be not Angry; for she did but her kind, to use her eyes to the benefit of the rest of her members: and therefore you being a man of judgement, ought rather to be sorry for her wickedness, then to show your own weakness, in such years to have a thought of wantonness: but sure the flesh is weak, and the strongest may fall better is a sorrowful repentance, than a fretting madness: and since fretting at your own folly, to sell all the land you have, will not get you a foot of earth more than your grave, be not at wars with yourself to no purpose: cease from doing evil, make much of your honest wife, serve God in true repentance, and the Devil shall do you no hurt: for, is it not better to bear your cross: especially, being of your own making, then to run into further mischief by the wicked humour of impatience? But to the purpose: say this, (to quit you with another proposition) put the case, that I being (as you see) a proper man, and in the way of good speed with a handsome woman, and she in state able to do for an honest man that would love her, and make much of her, and I having intent to deal honestly with her; and she gives me her faith and troth, and swears by her very soul that I have her heart so fast, that no man shall have her hand from me: and I thinking that because she is old, she is honest: and because she swears, that she says true, go about my business as she bids me for some few days, and then to return to the ioyving up of the matter betwixt us; and in the mean time, after that I have spent perhaps more than my half year's wages upon her in wine and sugar and good cheer, and hope to come to be mercy, come and find her married to a filthy cozening Knave, who by a little more money than I had in my purse for the present; to bribe another rascal like himself, who was the maker of the match, dwells in my hoped house, gives me the bag for my money, and hath my fat old sow in such a snare, that there is no getting of her out again: when I am thus handled for my good will, with this wicked old piece of whitleather, to put my trust in an old hogs-stie for my habitation, and to be thrust out of doors for my labour; Shall I not be Angry?  Fab. 
Oh no, in any case: for women have wits beyond men's reason: especially, when they are passed a child, or childbearing, more than they that are past children. Oh, I tell you, it is a perilous thing to slip occasion in matters of Love: and age is either froward or frail, & therefore you should rather have fed her humour full ere you had left her, then to think that she would be unprovided till you should come again to her: And therefore I say, as you say; I pray you be not Angry. For I will tell you; Say that I being a man every way to content an honest woman, and having unhappily bestowed myself upon a woman of the worst kind, which before I married her, being neither widow, maid nor wife, but a plain whore: and this misery of my days, being by my folly brought to some better state than she was worthy: and seeing herself in a glass grown fat through good fare and ease, & setting her countenance even with the pride of her folly, beginning to think better of herself then half the parish beside, should chance upon a little kindness, grow in love with my kinsman, or he with her, and so they grow so great, that I should ●…nd like john hold my staff, while they take their pleasure: she should sit at the upper end of the Table, and I at the neither end: she lie in one Chamber, and I in another, and yet must not find fault with it for fear of a stab, or a fig, or some other villainy, but with a saming countenance bear all, as if pudding were the only meat of the world, while one makes horns at me, another moes at me, another calls me cuckold, another wittol; and I know all to be true, and cannot, or dare not do withal: Do you think that flesh and blood can bear this, and not be angry?  Fern. 
Yes very well, for, as you have flesh and blood, so you have wit and reason: and when your wit and reason can consider, how her trade brings more commodity, and with less travel than your trassique: if you be not so wilful that you will hear no body speak but yourself; or so scornful, that you can endure no companion in kindness: or so covetous, that you will not spare a penny towards the nursing of your neighbour's child: or so proud, that you scorn the gift of a friend: you will find that such a wise is worth too Milch cows: and whatsoever the world says, you are beholding to none but her: and where others beggar their husbands, she hath made you the head man of the Parish: and then, cannot you wink at a little fault that is so full of profit? Yes I warrant you and therefore I may well say, I pray you be not angry?  Fab. 
True, it may be that some good ass that knows not how to live without the basest trade of beggary, will put on any Patience for profit: but from such a rascal nature God deliver me But to requite you with as good as you bring, let me tell you: If I should serve a man of great wealth, and he have a wenching humour, and he keeping more Maidservants in his house then ever meant to be true Virgins, & one of these wild cattle, that for the price of a red Petticoat would venture the lining of her placket, should by a mischance of her Masters making, fall into a two héeld Tinpany, which could by no means be cured, without my consenting to a wicked marriage for a little money; which I, by the villainy of the Trull, which would put the trick upon me must seem willingly to yield unto, for fear of I know not what, to fall out I know not why: and so giving a countenance of contentment; to the confusion of my heart's comfort, when she could be delivered of this mischief, hoping that she would meddle no more with any such matters, begin to make a little more of her than she was worthy: and she thereupon so lusty, that thee cared not for the Parish so long as the Constable was her friend, give entertainment to whom she lust, and use me as she list; set more horns than hairs on my head; and care not if I were hanged for my good will: This rascal roundabout, without good complexion or good condition; as ill favoured as mannered, and so spoken as wicked: being thus void of grace, careless of all credit, and irremoveable in her resolution for the wicked course of her life; this (I say) hellish piece of flesh to domineer over me, and with the countenance of her master, to make a slave of her goodman, who should be sent of errands, while she were with her errands: I should fetch wine for their drinking, turn the spit to their roast-meat, or walk their horses, while they were sadling my Filly: and yet all this (and I say not what else) I must bear, as though it were no burden for a small reckoning at the week's end for washing a fouls shirt, or setting of my ruffs right, or seething of a calf's head, or making sauce to a tame goose, or for a nod of my Master, that makes a noddy of his servant: for such and such like matters, to put up all matters, and swallow grief so in my throat, that it is ready to choke me in the going down: Is it possible to do all this, that you could be, I, and not be Angry?  Fern. 
Yes, very well: for profit is so pleasing, that it puts out a great many ill thoughts that would trouble a man that hath no wit; and for honesty, it is a good thing I must confess: But if a man be not borne rich, and keeps himself so, he shall gain little by simplifitie: and therefore as I said, where patience brings pro●t, I say still, bear with your fortune, and be not Angry. But leaving to talk more of female discontentments, let me say this: That I being a man of sufficiency to supply the Office of a good place, borne of a Noble house bred up in all courses requisite for a Gentleman, have traveled diverse countries, seen much of the world by sea and land: and through want of my father's discretion, not left so good a portion as may maintain my reputation, without some better matter than mine own estate, and driven for my better comfort, to put my fortune under the favour of him, whom I know not what hath made rich: and being only wise in the world, hath no feeling of God's grace, but by a thousand ill practices, finds the mean before his death to look over a great deal of more ground than his grave: and this Captain of the damned crew, who is haled to hell with a world of chains; the son of a beggar, & brother to a villain, to govern over though honesty of my heart with the commandment of evil service: or finding me not for his humour, to frown on me like an old frying-pan: or torate me like a dog, because I will not be a Devil: to be employed in more vileness then half a Christian could endure to hear of: now I say, to spend my time in this misery only for picking of a salad, weighting at a trencher, looking on a fair house, making courtesy to an old relic, hold the basin to the rheum, or hearing the inusique of a rotten Cough: and after many years patience in this purgatory, where all the wisdom I have learned, were but to corrupt the nature of a good wit, either for a trifle to be frowned at, & by tricks to be wrought out: or with a livery without a badge, to seek my fortune in some better soil, to have served long for nothing, or for worse than nothing, when discontentments must be canceled, and I for fear of a mischief, must speak all honour of dishonour, and with a merry go sorry, sigh out my days that are no better blessed: when I shall see a fool graced, and better wits put down: honesty scorned, and knavery in more account then commeneable: and I consening myself with an imagination that service was an heritage, where I found nothing but loss of time & repentance; Have I not cause, think you, with all this, to be Angry?  Fab. 
And yet I say; I pray you be not Angry: For, if you had so much of the grace of God, as to make you rather leave the hope of preferment, then yield to an ill employment, no doubt but either your private life will find some secret contentment, or your patience will find somewhere advancement of your virtues: and therefore rather be joyful of God's blessing, then impatient with your fortune; and think not amiss that I say, I pray you be not Angry. But to requite you; Say that I having more money in my purse then a wise man would part with, but upon the better reckoning, should be persuaded to play the usurer, and so with little reward to make my money multiply, & by the cunning working of a coney catching Knave. I should be brought (in hope of gain) to take in pawn for my money, some lease of a good farm, or piece of rich plate: which being not fetch by the day of payment, would return me more than double my money: put my money out of my hands, which I have fared full hard to get together, and I at the day glad of my forfeit, hoping to gain more than a good conscience would away withal, find my lease not worth a point, by a former deed of gift, or such a conveyance as carrieth all away from my fingers, and leave me (for all my cunning in the Law,) to plead repentance to my folly: or my plate challenged for some piece of pilfery, and I brought to trouble for I know not what, and to get out I know not how, till I have brought my stock to a poor state, where I may see the just reward of usury, when I look in my purse, and find nothing, Would not this make one Angry?  Fern. 
Not a whit: for knaves will be knaves, and fools must be bitten ere they will be wise: of which if you be none, no doubt but there are enough in the world. And since all the Anger in the world will not recover a penny loss, let me say to you, as you say to me; I pray be not Angry. And let me tell you, that upon a time it was my hap to have a friend (as I thought) whom I loved dear; and building upon the care of his conscience, that for a world of wealth he would not play the jew with me: it fell out that I having more than a month's mind to a wench above a year old, whose worthiness every way might command a fare better servant than myself; and yet it had so fallen out betwixt us, that our affections were so settled, that I thought (without death) there could be no remove: and therefore fearing no fortune, relying so much upon her love, loving (as I said) my imagined friend more than a wise man should do (for there is a measure to be kept in all things) made him acquainted with my secrecy, touching the intent to steal away my Mistress from the place where she had no pleasure to be kept in, as she had been long like a chicken in a coop: and to the performing of this purpose, hoping to have use of his best help, deliver him a ring, or a jewel of some value, to present unto my love, when I know his means better than mine own, to have access unto her without suspicion: and he after a world of protestations sealed with too many oaths, to deal so faithfully, carefully, and secretly for me as my heart could desire, when faith there was none, nor care of me, nor secrecy, but in keeping all from me, when like a dissembling jew, be useth my jewel for a mean to rob me of my better jewel: when he presented it as from himself, and revealing some matter of secrecy betwixt us, unpleasing to her, and nothing to my profit, with enchanting terms wins her affection, and borroweth my money to cut my throat, till having carried away my mistress, he either laugh at me, or write me a letter of excuse to collogue with me: When I think how with trusting a Knave, I have played the fool, in conscience say, if ever man would fall out with himself, have not I cause to be angry?  Fab. 
No: for as you said to me, Knaves will be Knaves; and in matters of love, he that will not be the follower of his own cause, may hap to be overthrown in his own suit: and to look for constancy in a woman, especially of young years, when bribes and gifts are able to work great matters in those courses, it is a mere folly: for, say that some are (I know not how many) as constant as Penelope, yet let Danac take heed of a golden shower in her lap: and therefore, I pray you be not angry. For let me tell you, to be deceived by a friend, it is an ordinary matter; to lose a wench, it is a thousand men's fortune: and therefore since she was so fickle to trust to, think her better lost then found: and for him, get your golden jewels & your money from him, and let him walk with his wicked householdstuff: and let me tell you of a discontentment of mind. It was my hap (I may say my ill hap) to cast my affection of late upon a very proper young man, of a pure complexion, neither effeminate, nor course faced, neither of lethersellers, nor painter's company, but a good feature and well coloured: and for his countenance, neither Paules-steeple height, nor with the fall of the tide; but carried in so good a measure, as shown his wits no more out of order then his members: for his hoyce, neither Treble nor Base, but a good mean: and his speech neither Rhetorical, nor Logical, nor Tragical, nor Colasticall; but such, as neither too little, nor too much, answering directly to every question: and speaking necessarily upon good occasion, won him such commendation for his discretion, as increasing much my affection, made me (as I thought) upon good judgement, make him a great subject of my contentment: in brief, I singled him out of company, to make him my companion, took him into my house, bestowed bountifully upon him, let him not want any thing that was needful for him: my table to dine at, a fair chamber for his lodging, yea & sometime made him my bedfellow, furnished him with money, horse, apparel, books, and credit for whatsoever he would demand: yea, and in mine absence trusted him with the government of my whole house; till my favour b●ed in his folly that, at the first I saw not, such a presumption of his own worthiness, as I liked not, when controulling even myself for a trifle, himself to blame in the self same nature for a greater matter, thinking all too little that was done for him, and urging more than was meet for him: at last not able to suppress the veneme of his pride, till his hart made his head swell as big as a codshead; in recompense of all my kindness, playe● false with my servant maid, steals away my eldest daughter, robs my coffers, troubles my conscience, cracks my credit, befools my wit, and doth what he may to seek the ruin of my state; Is it possible that a man could think of such a villain, and not be Angry?  Fern. 
Yea very well; and I say unto you: I pray you be not Angry: For, still Knaves will be Knaves; and a man had need eat a bushel of salt with a man, before he grow too fare to trust him: for he was a worlding, and out of the simplicity of your honesty, thinking him to be be that he was not, might learn him to trust his like, or any at all, at least with your house, your daughter, (if you have any) or your servants, if you keep any: and having patience with your lack of judgement, do for your daughter, as you have cause in nature and reason, and pray in charity for his soul, what ever become of his carcase: and since (I hope) you will take this for no ill council, I say as I did, I pray you be not Angry.  
FINIS.