A MERRY DIALOGUE BETWIXT THE TAKER and Mistaker.  
Imprinted at London for james Shaw, and are to be sold at his shop near Ludgate. 1603.   

TO MY VERY LOVING, AND APPROVED GOOD FRIEND, THE LOVER OF ALL virtues AND labourer in good studies, Signior john Florio, per perfect Reader of the Italian language, Nicholas Breton wisheth, worthy advancement of many good de serts, increase of comforts, and eternal happiness.  
Unthankfulness is too great an unkindness to come near the nature of any good disposition; and therefore, to avoid the desert of so ill a Touch, to manifest my good will in more desire than ability, I have given you a token of my love, in a little fruit of my labour: wherein if I be not mistaken in my conceit, you shall find somewhat worth the taking view of. The Dialogue is not tedious, nor the matter so serious, but it may pass the musters of a merry humour: wherein the Taker shall find how he may be mistaken, and the Mistaker, how he may be taken. My hope is you will take all in good part, and smile at them that are so mistaken in their wits, that they know not well, what to take well. But lest I take too long a time, in troubling you with a longer preface, then either the matter requireth, or your patience will admit: with many thanks for your many undeserved kind passages (of which, I have taken such remembrance, as I hope shall one day be better considered) leaving my book to your kind patronage, and my love to your like employment; I rest always  
Your affectionate poor friend, Nicholas Breton.   

To the Reader.  
IF I be not mistaken, there are many Takers & Mistakers in this world, who take themselves to be wise with a little wit, & rich with a little wealth. Some are taken for religious, that with their hypocrisy cousin a number of simple people: other are taken for good men, that have a little more wealth than honesty: and some are taken for fools, that have more conscience then cunning: but happy are they, who take the right course to their soul's comfort. In this discourse following, you shall see diverse pretty passages betwixt the Taker and the Mistaker, perhaps as pleasing for the mirth, as prof●●●ble for the matter. Now how every one will take it, I know not. The best minds I know will take nothing ill, that is meant well; and for the worst, they know not how to take any thing well, how good so ere it be: and therefore entreating every man to take it as he list, lest I should be beholding to I know not whom for I know not what, I leave to the Printer to take his price, and you to take your pleasure; and so rest  
Your friend, if I be not mistaken, NICHOLAS BRETON.   

A merry Dialogue betwixt two travelers. Dorindo, and Lorenzo.  
LORENZO well met, how dost thou this fair morning?  Lor. 
A thousand good morrows to mine honest Dorindo: but how goes the world man? no news stirring worth the hearing?  Dor. 
More than are true, or worth the telling: and therefore I had as leeve hold my peace, as have no thanks for my tattling: but I pray thee tell me, where hast thou been this many a day? I heard that thou hast been over the water, I know not how far.  Lor. 
Indeed the sea is a pretty brook to wade through, and a years travel will tread a pretty piece of ground: but to tell you where I have been, I cannot; for my way was long, and my memory is short: but had I time to tell thee that which I could, (at least if my memory would serve me) I should make thee like the better of home, and the worse of travel while thou livest.  Dor. 
And why, I pray thee?  Lor. 
It is not so soon answered, but rather let me say, why not? For much danger, and more fear, little safety and less gain, made me wish either to have known less, or somewhat more worth the knowing.  Lor. 
I pray thee why? were thine eyes not matches, or thy wits out of order?  Dor. 
Truly whether the fault be in my wits, or mine eyes, I know not: but I am sure I was so overtaken in mistaking of every match that I met withal, that I had as leeve almost be an Ignorant, as deceive myself with imagination.  Lor. 
True, for as good to lose thoughts, as to lose by them: but whence or whereupon grew this grief of yours?  Dor. 
I tell you by mistaking.  Lor. 
But how I pray you?  Dor. 
Why, the first thing that I was mistaken in, was myself: in whom I was the most mistaken of any thing in the world. For, with only a little observation, I was persuaded, that there was no matter of worth, but I had it by heart; and for trifles, I would not be troubled with them: but, when that reason came to ripping up of the secrets of wisdoms intelligence, I saw my wit so wilful, that I was mistaken in all matters that I met with.  Lor. 
What, men, women and children?  Dor. 
Yea, only in them: for touching other creatures, I made no great care of my conceit of them. But now to tell thee, in my travels how I was mistaken: to run over all my courses, it were too tedious, let suffice as much as may make thee merry to hear, and wise to remember. First, when I left my country and came a board the Buon-à-venture, we had no sooner weighed anchor, hoist sails, and put to sea, but with a fresh gale of wind, and fair weather, we were so merry above hatches, that me thought there was none so merry alive as the sailors. But we had not thus passed five leagues, till the sky was overcast, the wind came about and grew high, the air thick and foggy, and the drizzling rain came so beating in our faces, that we were glad to get under hatches: where we were scarcely set in our Cabins, but the tempest grew so great, the winds so rough, and the waves so high, that we were glad with throwing out almost all the goods into the sea, to save our lives in the bare vessel. Now when I came on shore, well moiled and poor, having lost all that I had aboard, more than a little money in my purse, which was so little, as that I will say little of it: I began to think with myself how I was mistaken, to think, that one fair day, and a little fair weather, could make me think, that the sailors life (which every minute is subject to danger of one harm or other, and betwixt a board and the water, hath a walk, but in a short and unsteady room) should be compared to the land life, where there is pleasure in the fair weather, and shelter against the foul, and no fear of wind nor water, nor many other dangers which I will omit to speak of. And in stead of a whirl pool in the water, a walk large enough to walk man and horse too, till they were both weary. Now here was my first mistaking.  Lor. 
It may be, if the weather had held fair, and that you had met with a good prize, you would not have thought yourself mistaken in the merry life of the mariner.  Dor. 
Indeed sometime the joy of taking, helps the misery of mistaking.  Lor. 
Yea, but when the thief that hath taken a purse, if he be overtaken in the high way, and so take the gallows for his Inn, that joyful taking in the beginning brings a sorrowful mistaking in the end.  Dor. 
Well, as for that part, it is none of my play, and therefore I will leave it to them that love it.  
Now to tell thee of my second mistaking. When I had been a little on shore, had weathered myself, dried my clothes, filled my belly, and emptied my purse, I now began to think how my wits should work for my welfare: and first, intending to seek entertainment of some Noble person, that would honourably look into the virtues, valour, and good qualities of a good mind, I began to put on a resolution to adventure any fortune, and endure any discomfort, that might be a hindrance to my happiness. And with this resolution traveling till I was weary, almost penniless, and exceedingly hungry, I came to the view of a goodly, fair, & gorgeously built house, which stood as it were a mile from a city near adjoining. Now in hope there to find some such person, as I before spoke of, I began to rouse up myself, as one that had an assured hope, at least of some good victual, I mean of a good dinner scotfree, howsoever otherwise fortune would be my friend. When, ere I would approach too near the house, lest I should be seen in any unfit manner, I combed my beard, gartered up my stockings, trussed every point, buttoned every button, and made myself ready in the best manner I could, to appear before the presence of such as I should meet withal in this gallant mansion. But when I came near unto the house, and finding the door shut, I did imagine (being about the mid time of the day) that the servants were all at dinner, and the lord of the house either laid down to sleep, or gone into his closet, to talk upon some accounts with his lady: but hearing no sound of any noise, nor voice within of either man or dog, I feared some ill fortune, that there was some great sickness, or danger of death that might damp the spirits, and so cause the sorrow of the whole house: but staying awhile, and neither hearing any voice within, nor any poor creature without at the gate, that might hope of alms from the hall, I feared the charity within was so little, that my comfort without would be according: but after that I had stood awhile, loath to lose time, I knocked at the door; where I knocked long, before I had any answer, and in the end was saluted at a window far within by an old fellow, who it should seem, to save a groat had slept out his dinner; whose speech (with a wide mouth gaped out) was this: What lack you? My friend (quoth I) I pray you let me speak with you. No (quoth he) I cannot come down, I am busy, my master is not at home, and here is no body in the house but I and my wife, and she is not well: but say your errand and I will hear you. My errand thought I, was there ever such a kennel for such a cur? doth he take me for some sorry fellow, or hath he no better kind of greeting for strangers? And thus while I stood musing and fretting at my fortune and this bad fellow, he shut the window: and I with a sigh, to see how I was mistaken in this fair house, turning me from it, I met with a fool in a pied coat, who looking upon me after he had overlaughed himself, told me: Sir, you are mistaken, this is a banqueting house, where the gazers are only fed with conceits, for there is not a chimney that smokes, nor a door open, it is called Mock-beggar, ha, ha, ha. Now when the fool went thus laughing away, and left me more fool to tarry there. Before I stirred my foot, out of my pocket I took my table book, in which I writ down my second mistaking.  Lor. 
Indeed this is too common a mistaking in many countries, but it may be you might have taken it in such a time, as might have given you cause to have spoken better of it: but indeed fair houses are for rich men, and cottages for the poor: and therefore being in that predicament, it is no marvel you had no better entertainment. But I pray you proceed with your travel.  Dor. 
I will tell you, melancholy walking a little from this Mock-beggar, I began to frame myself to the humour of a cunning beggar: when meeting with a grave old man (who by his velvet coat, his golden chain, and his rich furred gown should seem to be at the least some rich Burgor, if not some Burgamaister of some city) this well appareled picture with a kind of life that gave the body leave to carry the head upon a square pair of shoulders, I in hope to find more comfortable than the fair house master Mock-beggar, I saluted with a great reverence; & requited with a proud nod, I yet adventured to board with a few words. When hoping to have found him a man of no less understanding spirit, to judge of the estate and conditions of men, than bounty, in the relief of the unfortunately distressed, I fell aboard with him with these words. Sir, I think you have heard of the hard fortune of the Buon-aventure, who put into your harbour this other night, hardly saving her life, with loss of all her goods, and some of her peoole. Myself, with much ado well weatherbeaten as you may see, with some few that lie sick in the haven, got to shore, and am now traveling towards your city here before me. Loath I am to enter into any base course for my comfort: but, if I might be beholding to your good favour, in this time of my distress, giving me your name withal, I doubt not if I live, but either by myself, or my better friends, to find a time, either to requite or deserve it. He, as one whose heart was so shut up in his purse, that he understood nothing but ware and money, after a harsh hum, or two, gave me this answer: Was there nothing saved of her goods I pray you? what was her fraught? Sat, quoth I, it was most silks and spices, but some pearl, and money, more than would have been willingly lost. Good commodities, quoth he; by my faith, a shrewd mischance: I am sorry for ye, I would I could do ye good, but I am now in haste going about a little business, and therefore I cannot stand to talk with you, God be with you; the town is hard before you, you will be there anon: But, if you have any jewels or pearl that you have saved, I will give you money for it, if I like it. Truly Sir, quoth I, jewels I have not many, only two rings on my fingers, and this bracelet of pearl I have saved: my bracelet cost me a hundredth crowns, if it please you to have it of the price it cost, though against my will, I will part with it. With that upon his bottle red nose he claps on a pair of spectacles, and looking on my pearl, found fault with the roundness, and the clearness, and I know not what else, till at the last, thinking to make a gain of my misery, he offered me ten crowns: saying, that he had no need of it; but rather than be disfurnished of money (being a stranger) he would adventure so much on it: whereat, I swallowing a sigh, and concealing my discontent, desired him to pardon me, I hoped to find some of my countrymen in the city, that I would be as bold, as I might withal. Thus, with an idle word or two, did I leave this good old gentleman, in whom how much I was, and many more, no doubt, have been mistaken, I refer to the judgement of those that can spell him without book, & may desire never to come near him within book. This was my third mistaking: to take the shadow of a man, and the substance of a money-bagge, without charity, or humanity, by the hypocritical figure of gravity, to be a creature of understanding, a man of honour, and a blessed reliever of the miserable.  Lor. 
Alas how many thousands are so mistaken? Why, the blessed Saints holiness, the Martyr's faithfulness, the Virgin's pureness, and the prayers of the elect, I have heard, and read of: but I never heard of any rich apparel, or chains spoken of among them; for God bless us from it, some say the devil hath a chain wherein he leads a number into hell; but I hope it is not gold. I know not that, but I think not, for murderers hang in iron chains, and therefore he will not be at cost with them, all alike: but how he doth with the covetous, the lecherous, and the ambitious, that knoweth God and not I. But shall I tell you further of my mistake.  Lor. 
Yes, for God's sake.  Dor. 
Then let me tell you.  Lor. 
I had scarcely got within the gates of the city, but that it was my hap to meet with a country man of mine own, and somewhat of alliance unto me. This man at first seeming to be glad to have met me in that city, promising me to bring me acquainted with some other of my country men, and that he would be ready to do me all the pleasure he could: this did not a little content me, hoping that for country, and kindred's sake, I should find no little friendship. But after that he had made me know three or four of my country men, and brought me to an Inn, where for my money I might lodge, neither inviting me to dinner or supper, only was content to take a cup of wine of me, and to tell me that he hoped to drink with me before my going out of town: thus was I mistaken both in kin and country, to hope of any comfort. But the next morning coming to a tailor's house (which was likewise a country man of mine) I had no sooner talked with the good man, about the pawning of my bracelet, and taking up of some stuff for my apparel, but his wife in an inner room, almost as quick of ear as of tongue, with a wide gaping mouth came to us with this greeting: Go too, goodman-goose, meddle with no pawning nor taking up, you have paid enough for playing the Fool, and yet will be an Ass still? I pray you wife quoth he, be quiet: and then to me, Truly gentleman, I would be glad to do you any pleasure, but I have such a wife that I dare do nothing without her consent: if you bring your stuff I will do it you, as well and as good cheap as any man. Now, I that took him to have been the master of the house, was much mistaken, for the woman ware the breeches, and he was to work for the house: when pitying the poor man's case, and much commending his patience, sorry to think how I was mistaken, I took another course for my contentment. I was not long in town before I had learned how to turn pearl into gold, and gold into silver, and so to furnish myself of such necessaries, as I found most fitting for my use: when there passed not many days before I fell upon another fortune, where I was as I was still in every thing mistaken.  Lor. 
I pray you tell it, we have time enough, and I long to hear it.  Dor. 
I will tell you.  
It was my hap after that I had done my devotion in the Church, and holy places, passing through the streets, beholding as well the fair houses, as sweet creatures at their doors and windows; to cast mine eye upon a very artificial fair, sharp witted, wanton eyed, and fair handed, small footed, strait bodied, and, as I after found, smooth tongued gentlewoman: I say gentle, for she was so gentle, that she was as tame, as a little filly, that had been brought up all by hand. This fine mistress, I had some hope to do some good upon, when setting a good face on the matter, after a courteous salutation I fell to kissing of her hand: which she endured with such a pleasing smile, as gave me cause to proceed further in my purpose. I had not so soon began to go about her, but she had me at every turn, and in the midst of my talk would be fiddling with a ring, in which was a painted diamond, that I ware on my finger, which she would commend with wishing her hand worthy such a favour. Now I that hoped to have found so gallant a wench, as frank handed, as free hearted, and as liberal for love, as ready for entertainment, found that artificial beauty, was but a shadow, or rather cover of covetousness, or an instrument of wit, to draw on folly, into the ruin of prodigality: so that, here I found myself so mistaken, that it made me afraid a long while after, to be busy with the female kind.  Lor. 
In truth this was a pretty mistaking: but if she had been for you, and would have mistaken you for her husband, by whom you might craftily have been taken, and so been carried to Bridewell, or paid for your pardon; what a taking would you then have been in?  Dor. 
I know not, but 'tis better, as it was: for as I found it, so I left it. I only spent a few fair words, but not a penny money, for I would not pay for my repentance: but so leaving her, as I found her, with a Bazo los manus, went about my other business: which I had not long followed, but I fell upon another mistaking.  Lor. 
What may that be, if you can remember?  Dor. 
I will tell you.  
It was my hap to hear of a gallant Captain that was to do a piece of service upon a city of the Turks, under whom who could get entertainment, might quickly purchase both honour and wealth. Now, my youth being trained up in arms, and my fortune falling upon such a point, it was not long before I made and got means of entertainment at the hands of this gallant soldier, of whom I hoped to receive the due of my desert: but after that he had in many desperate pieces of service employed me, and saw in me that true valour, that made him in the envy of my good deserts, fear some near pressing towards his pride, in stead of advancing my fortune, or rewarding my service, he still put me upon such continual exploits, as threatened every hour narrow escape of my life. But in the end seeing his misery, to make a gain of those that did him honour, handfasted to the well deserving, and rather plotting the death, then advancing the fortunes of the valiant, got means for my discharge from him; and sorry to think how I was mistaken in him, as I tell you, I left him: when I had not gone far, but I light upon another mistaking.  Lor. 
And how I pray thee? if it be not troublesome to thee to recite it, I pray thee let me hear it.  Dor. 
You shall.  

The mistaking of a Divine.  
It was my hap in a little field near unto a Church in a country town, to overtake a little old man in agowne, a wide kassock, a nightcap, and a corner-cap, by his habit seeming to be a Divine; of whom I was in hope to find that sacred fruit of charity, that might be some comfort in my return: whom beginning to salute with a few Latin words: My friend, quoth he, do not deceive yourself, I understand not your Greek. We here, that dwell far from the city, and are not troubled with fine ears to our reading, care for no more but to discharge our duties in our places, I mean of a Vicar, for I am no better: the Parson is a man of greater place, and of fair possessions, who dwelleth a great way hence, and therefore seldom comes into this country. I use twice a year to bring him his rent, and perhaps a couple of Capons against Christmusse, for my Landlady, and that is as much as they look for. And for my parishioners, they are a kind of people, that love a pot of Ale better than a Pulpit, and a corne-ricke better than a Church-door: who coming to divine service, more for fashion then devotion, are contented after a little capping and kneeling, coughing and spitting, to help me to sing out a Psalm, and sleep at the second Lesson, or awake to stand up at the Gospel, and say Amen at The peace of God; and stay till the Banes of matrimony be asked, or till the Clerk have cried a pied stray bullock, a black sheep or a grey mare: and then, for that some dwell far off, be glad to be gotten home to dinner. Now we that have no more living than will hardly serve to keep a poor house, are not in case, God help us, to do any thing for our poor brethren; and therefore my good friend trouble us not with other speech than we understand, lest if you come afore the Constable, he take you for some conjuror, and so bring yourself to some trouble, which I would be sorry to see: for truly you seem a handsome man; God hath done his part in you: God be with you. Oh Lord (thought I) is this man possible to be a Churchman, and knoweth so little what belongeth to the Church? Well, this was no little mistaking: but going a little further, leaving this poor Sir jenkin to his mother tongue, I overtook a plain fellow to my seeming, clad in a homespun jerkin of russet wool, a pair of close breeches of the same, a falling band somewhat courser then fine Cambric, a pair of woollen stockings, and a half boot, like a good high shoe. Now, this plain outside, I guessed to be lined with no excellent stuff in the inside: and therefore somewhat more boldly then rudely saluted him in this manner: Good fellow, well overtaken. You are welcome, quoth he: but to clap a man on the shoulder before you know him, is a point quite out of the rule of all good manners, at least that ever I learned. Alas, quoth I, goodman clown, can your nose abide no jest: Yes Sir, quoth he, with my friends; but mine ears have no pleasure in a fool. This touching me too near the quick, replied again: Oh sir, quoth I, then if your friends be fools, you will shake hands with them; but a stranger will put you out of patience. He little moved herewith, (as it seemed) made me this answer: My friend, I pray you keep your way, I would be loath to hinder your walk: but if your passion be no greater than my impatience, we shall not fall out for a trifle. But Sir (quoth I) how might I fall in either with yourself, or such another, for a matter of good earnest? It seems you are a man of sense, and had I not given you cause of displeasure which I am sorry for, I would have acquainted you with somewhat, that by your good means, I might perhaps be the better for. Truly sir, quoth he, my estate is not such as can make me bountiful to the best deserving; but so far as discretion will give me leave, I would be glad to pleasure a stranger. My house is not far hence, but on the further side of this field; whither (if it may be no great hindrance to your travel) I will entreat your patience to a poor pittance, and if in either my advise, or better means I may stead your desire, you shall find that you do not look for; nothing that you shall pay for; and somewhat that perhaps you shall thank me for: and therefore, I pray you bear me company for this night; to morrow you shall take your journey at your pleasure. This kind offer (having no reason to refuse) I took most thankfully: and by the way after a few discourses of my fortunes, I acquainted him with the resolution of my intent; which was, either to serve in the wars, or in Court, or to profess some trade, or to follow my study. To which, I asked his advice for my good, in all and every one of them: to which, as I propounded the question, he made me this answer. And first, quoth he, my friend, I am sorry, by these your discourses, to have occasion to call to mind the folly of my youth, which taught me nothing in mine age, but the repentance of lost time: but for that I have tried fortune to the uttermost of her malice, and in the end am come to that you see, I would be glad to tell you a merry tale, how I was mistaken in many courses, before I hit on the right compass: in which, if you can gather any thing for your good, I shall think it the best gain that I have made of it. Now finding this unlooked for and undeserved kindness at his hands, and nothing more fitting the humour of my fortune at that time, I entreated him most heartily, to make me in this first to be beholding to him. Whereupon, with a very little preamble he fell into this plain trot: I will tell you, quoth he, when I was young as you are, and had as little to care for as you have, being brought up at home with ease and plenty, and weary of welfare, would fain have I know not what, when having the world more at will, than wit to govern my affections, and a desire to see more than I could well carry away, thinking my mother's best cream but bare milk; and others thinnest milk, as good cream as might make butter; taking leave of no friend, and flattering my thoughts with fortune, I would to sea forsooth, with a sight of such spirits, as (but that they looked like men) would have made poor people afraid of them: yet these were the men with whom (in more haste then good speed) I must go lose abroad what I had gotten at home. When, hoping to have light on some good prize, I was taken prisoner with the enemy: of whom being stripped of that I had, with a few old rags on my back, among a few of my fellow sailors that were set on shore in a poor taking, I found how I began to be mistaken; to leave the land for the sea, and a safe home for a strange harbour. But now on shore with my good fellows in fortune, every man shifting for himself, and I trying so many ways to the wood, that I lost myself in the plain, weary of doing nothing, began to look about me for my better profit: but such were my crosses in all my courses, that I could never thrive till I got home again. For to make an abridgement of a long tale, I will tell you: In courting I found more cost than comfort; in war, more danger than ease; in learning, more study than profit; in traffic, more gain than conscience; in service, more pain than honour; in marriage, more care then quiet; and in love, more pleasure than virtue: so that in all my courses being so mistaken, that I found a cross to my comfort in every of them, I fairly left the Courtier to his courtesies, the soldier to his marches, the scholar to his studies, the merchaut to his traffic, the married man to his purgatory, and the lover to his vanity: and home returned to my poor cottage that my parents left me; and, as my wife tells me, my sons shall possess after me. Here I live in a mean course, content and glad of God's blessings, never in danger to be mistaken, because I trust only to experience: while doing honour to God, and following my business, with the sweat of my brows, I gain the food of my senses, with my necessary appurtenances. O my friend, believe me, he that is contented is rich, while he that is rich is not contented: a little sufficeth nature, and excess is but hurtful; beauty, but the enchanter of wit; ambition, but the overthrow of virtue; covetousness, the corrupter of conscience; authority, the charge of care; pride, the hate of nature; envy, the nurse of malice, and wrath, the inventor of murder; sloth, the loss of time; drunkenness, the shame of nature; gluttony, the ground of sickness; and locherie, the fire of sin. These notes when I had taken by the light of God's grace, and observation of times, leaving all extremities, I took this mean course: where though home be homely, yet living quietly and contentedly, I find it true, That he who serveth God heartily, liveth happily, and dieth joyfully. Now my good friend, if I might advise you for your good, I would wish you to take a stayed course, and lay away all running humours: look home, love home, live at home, a small assurance is better than a great hope; and a little possession, than a great possibility: and when a man hath of his own, he need not borrow of his neighbours. Travel may be pleasing, and service hopeful, traffic gainful, and wealth powerful: but a convenient house, an honest patrimony, a kind wife, obedient children, faithful servants, and loving neighbours, make such a commonwealth of contentment in the true conceit of a careful understanding; that a king of a molehill, were better than a lord of a great hutch. Oh, to see in a fair morning, or a Sunny evening, the lambs and rabbits run at base, the birds billing, the fishes playing, and the flowers budding, who would not leave the drinking in an alehouse, the wrangling in a dicing house, the lying in a market, and the cheating in a fair; and think that the brightness of a fair day, doth put down all the beauties of the world. But I doubt I grow tedious, and therefore being so near home, I will entreat your patience till we have supped, and only assure you of a good welcome, to supply the want of better cheer. With this breaking off his talk, he took me by the hand and led me into his house, the door open, as unfearful of thieves, or unprovided for strangers: where we were at the entry saluted with a modest smile of a kind wife, humble courtesies of most sweet children, due reverence of comely servants, and a table furnished for both the host & a good guest. Here (though no inn) yet I took up my lodging; where with the entertainment of much kindness, having fed both body and mind with sufficient comforts, with due thanks for all courtesies, I took leave of the whole family, of whom in general I received kindness. In the morning not too early, receiving an extraordinary golden favour, for a friendly farewell, calling to mind his discourses of mistaking, and noting mine own crosses in my courses: I took his counsel for my comfort, and with as much speed as I could, leaving my travel turned even fair home again.   
And thus much for this time of my travel. Now what say you of yours? for I am sure you have not lived always at home.  Lor. 
Oh fine tale, you were the best mistaken in that man of all other: for, where you hoped well of other, you found the contrary; but of him you thought but little, and found much good. But it is no rare thing: for a man may look like an owl, that hath more wit than ten asses; and a woman may bride it like a maid, that hath been the mother of many children. A king in a play may be a beggar from the stage, & a clouted shoe may have a pate beyond all the parish. Oh, take heed of a wolf in a lambs skin, and talk not of hawking, till you have been a Falconer: for if a man have not his five wits, he may be a fool in four of them. But, lest you take my words for a lecture, which may be more tedious than pleasing, I will a little tell you of my travel, and how I was taken in every corner.  Dor. 
Yea Sir, now you speak somewhat to the matter. If your taking were like my mistaking, then perhaps we should shake hands for our fortunes. But howsoever it was, I pray you make me acquainted with it.  Lor. 
I will, and first you shall understand, that my first travel being cross the seas, I was taken short of my course, and by strange people carried to a strange place: where being taken for no worse than I was, I was used no better than I should be. But after that I had got out of this taking, I forth with fell to devise with myself, what course I should take for my comfort. And first I would take upon me to be a Courtier, when I would be so gay, as if honour attended upon colours: but wise men taking me as I then was, but a fool, brought me into such a taking; that what with love, and what with sorrow, I took such passions, as brought me to a weak taking. And yet I was taken among the best for an honest man, and a well meaning. But in taking my courtly course, my word was so taken in every corner, and my name so taken in every book, that I grew so afraid of takers, that I durst not almost go into any place for fear of taking. And to think of the sundry kinds of taking, it is strange to think, that any one should be taken up, and taken down so many ways as I was. If I but courted a wench, I was taken for a wencher; if I talked merrily, I was taken for a jester; if I looked sadly, I was taken for a spy; if I were liberal, for a prodigal; if thrifty, for a snudge; if valiant, a quarreler; if patient, a coward; if rich, wise; if poor, a fool: so that they, who knew not how to take any thing as it should be, took me to be any thing that they would have me to be. But this was not enough: for if I gave my word, I was taken for a surety; if I broke it, I was taken for a bankrupt; if I kept it, I was taken for a silly fellow; if I talked of a disease, I was taken for a Physician; if of a case, a Lawyer; if of arms, a Captain; if of religion, at least a Doctor: so that (as I said before) I was taken so many ways, that I knew not well which way to take myself. But beyond all these, not only myself was thus taken to be this and that: but my horse was taken post, my purse was taken prisoner, my word was taken hold of; and what was I, or had I, but was either taken up or down: my horse was taken up, my purse was taken down; my word was taken up, my mind was taken down: in brief, you could not be more mistaken in any thing, than I was taken for every thing. But lest you should think I would chop Logic with you, or think much of my breath in telling of a long tale, I will tell you, how I had like to have been taken napping. Going to an Ordinary to dinner with a friend of mine, who had been with me at the taking up of a little money, no sooner we were entered into the house and scarce set down to a table, short above an hour for covering towards supper, but we were taken up for a rest at Primero: when being taken for a gamester, I had the trick put upon me; which no sooner I espied, but having got a small rest or two, feigning an urgent business, I took occasion to leave off; for which cause I was taken for a cheater. Which fitting some of that place, who taking me for a fine fingered companion, fell a board with me for assistance and advise, so far that at last, in an assurance of my fidelity to them, and villainy to all the world beside, they put a sum of money into my hands to go to play with. Which money I no sooner was master of, but the wind serving well, and I in readiness to be gone, in the still time of the night, got means to ship myself for Roan: where being a stranger, I was to take what course I well could for my comfort. Where no sooner I was arrived, but I smiled to think how I had overtook my takers. Now coming to Roan, and finding diseases so rife, that an honest Physician might set his Apothecary well on work, I made a show with a little alum and Copresse, to persuade such wonders of my art or study; that who would not give me a good fee for a sore finger? Oh, healing but a Whitloe on a Lord's thumb, and the cramp in a Lady's finger, I went for the cunning man, that had a cure for all diseases. So that there was not a young wench that would have a child; a young man that was weak stomached; an old sir that was deaf nor an old Grandam blind; but would seek to me for remedy. By reason whereof, I came to the knowledge of some secrets, that made me sought to fair and near. To be short, I was taken for such a Physician, that I took no little profit of my patients. But lost my skill would be descried, and so my profession discredit, I turned all my gettings into gold, which I shipped with myself for Antwerp. But ill gotten, ill spent; ere I came half way over sea, I was taken prisoner by a pirate, who after he had taken my goods, kept me in hold for my ransom: which having paid, and gotten away, take me ever after that what they would, I would take no profession upon me; but taking the world as I could, I would think to use it as I had reason. And thus much for my two first take. Now, recovering my losses aswell as my wits and fortune would give me leave, I began to take an humour of love, and by a little eloquence and fine dissimulation, to go about (as I took her) a creature of more beauty than wit; and talk, than honesty. To be short, she was of the doubtful gender, the common of two or three scores, or hundreds, I know not whether. Now, this idle-times mistress I would have a kind bout withal, to see if my wit could help my purse in going beyond the wiles of a woman: but while I stood gazing on her leering eyes, she so stole away my heart with a vain affection, that to tell you troth, I was taken in love, and that so fast, as that to take hold of her kindness, she took hold of my cost. For if she but spoke of that she liked, if my purse could purchase it, she was sure to have it: so that in a little time, she took my kindness so kindly, that I was counted the kindest man (I will not say, fool) in the world. Oh, I was not only so taken, but so overtaken with this taking-mistresse, that she brought me into such a taking, as is scarce worth the talking of. Oh, mine eyes were so taken with beauty, my heart with vanity, my wits with folly, and my purse with prodigality; that had I not the sooner left this taker, I had left nothing for taking. Now sir, being thus weary of my love-taking, or my taking lover, I began to bethink me what course I were best to take for my comfort: when finding many malicious people, that could not live quietly with their neighbours, spend much money to little purpose, and so feed the Lawyers with fees, that they left their purses without money: I began to think, that a little study in the law, would gain much good in a commonwealth. Whereupon, without much circumstance I got me into the formal outside of a jolly fellow; and for the better countenance to my credit, furnished my study with more books, than I had either time to read, or wit to understand. When having gotten acquaintance with some setters for clients, rubbing over my poor French, having Litl●ton before me, and a book of notes I know not of whose writing, I would set on such a counseling countenance, as if I had been at the bar, before I know the hall: when, what with the multitude of clients and golden fees, I made such a gain of my dissembling, that near a Lawyer of my standing, but I carried it clean from him, man and matter and all. In which pretty thriving course, I had not continued long, but that being found by my learning unfit to plead for a black pudding, I was taken for a pettifogger, and not so good as a poor Clerk; so that my condition being found to be but a practiser with cunning, to trouble the quiet of honest people, for fear of being turned over the bar, I was fain to turn my compass to another course. But to tell you, during the time of my profession, how honest a man I was taken among knaves, and how contrary among honest men, I would be loath to have notice taken: for indeed I was rather a bench-whistler, than a bencher; and more meet (for my good conscience) to be arraigned at the bar, then to plead at a bar. But as I said before, lest I should be taken for that I truly was, I left that course, and took another invention by the back. I got me into a country where I was unknown, and there hoping that men that sought to win heaven by their good deeds, would surely enrich me with their charity: I began to connterfeit a diseased creature, and seeming with the rueful countenance that I could frame for the purpose, I would so move the hearts, and pick the purses of kind people, that I doubted not in time to grow a wealthy beggar. And with this invention I went forward, till, after that I had so long followed my profession, that my benefactors grew weary of their liberality: it fell out by good, or ill hap rather, that I chanced to beg of a very neat and handsome man, who seemed by his mild eye to have a heart pitiful to the distressed. But he more cunning to pry into the knavery of my dissembling, then to cure me of my disease, if I had had any, asked me of my pain, and how long I had been diseased. Which, when I had untruly told him, he willed me to come home to him, and he would undertake to heal me. Oh how glad I seemed of his kindness, and promised to wait upon him, with many humble thanks. But fearing this my undertaker should so overtake me in taking me napping in my knavery, I fairly took my way out of the town, and never came within the gates after. Thus was I almost overtaken with a water, before I had made my fire burn half kindly. To be short, if I should tell you all the courses that I have taken, and how I have been taken in every of them, I should make you think all your mistaking but a trifle, in comparison of many a miserable taking that I have been in.  Dor. 
Why man, so long as you never took any course so far out of compass, but you could guess whereabouts you were; nor ever went so far any way, but you could find the way home again: let us take hands together like good friends, and take all well that hath hit well, and warning by that hath fallen amiss, to follow such a folly any further.  Lor. 
You say well, but yet ere I make a full end, I will tell you how kindly I was entertained in a place, that by chance I took up for my lodging; where being taken as indeed I was, a man of more honesty than wit, and kindness than wealth: after good cheer and welcome, the good man of the house taking me aside, began to read me this honest lesson: My friend, quoth he, for that I take you for a man of that good disposition, that will take any thing well that is well meant; let me tell you, there be many men in the world, that with mistaking the right course of discretion, ●unne such wild courses as bring many of them into many pitiful take. Some no sooner come to their land, but they take up their rents afore the day so long, that they are ready to make a new taking for an old matter: other take money for leases, ere they know the value of their lands: other take money for their lands, ere they well know the summary of their rents. All these are commonly taken prisoners, either with the heart-ach for want of money; or the heade-ach, for want of wit. And, for many of them, they are taken either with the beggar, the thief, the cheater, or the fool. Some when they have nothing to take to, will take a wife to help forward a mischief, or mend an ill matter, but such a one may hap to take a wrong sow by the ear, that may bite him by the fingers for his labour: another perhaps takes upon him to be a Physician, or a Surgeon, and with a pill and a plaster, makes profession of great wonders. Now he with taking upon him much skill, takes much money, and though for want of knowledge, or through crafty villainy, he is determined to make a gain of his patient, he will one day give him ease, and another day torment, as he finds the nature of his purse, in stead of his pulses. Now, is it not pity, but that such a horseleech were taken and hanged, that to make a gain of grief, will bring any Christian into such a taking?  Lor. 
O Lord, is it possible, that there is any such creature in the world, that by so devilish a nature will show himself such a dog?  Dor. 
Too many, but give me leave a little. Some take upon them to be Divines, which only make the name of God a cloak for their knavery: but those may rather be called lurch men, than Churchmen, who is they are not troubled with much learning, so they 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 more honesty than they may well away withal. But these who take eleven for tenths, and yet can scarce read any other names, then are written in their Easter books, is it not pity, but their places were taken from them, and given to them that could and would take more careful pains in them?  Lor. 
I take it so: but there is such strange take and takers in the world, that, if God did not take the more mercy on them, surely the devil would take away a great many of them: but let them go.  Dor. 
There are other that will take upon them to be Lawyers: & these having scarce read a line of Littleton, only acquainted with a common case, either in the masculine or the feminine gender, will set a solemn countenance upon the matter, and taking money enough for fees, will bring poor clients into such a taking; that, if they perceive not the sooner, how they are taken with the fool, they will feel themselves too late to be taken with the beggar. Now, these kind of injurious privy professors of the Law will take of all hands in all matters, and when they are taken napping with the matter, they take small hearts-grief at any punishment that doth befall them. Now, is it not pity that such pettifoggers, as will pry into men's titles, plead on both sides, and take all they can come by, were not taken from the bar, thrown over the bar, and barred for ever coming more at a bar?  Lor. 
Yea, me thinks it is a great scandal to the Law, that such an offendor of the Law, as so abaseth the Law, should not be more sharply punished by the Law.  Dor. 
You say well, but let me tell you a little more of takers. There are other, that if they can write Item for a yard of Satin, a half elle and quarter of Taffeta, fold up a piece of Grogeram, ask what lack you, and sell an elle of Siprous, why he takes himself to be a Merchant, and that of no mean account in his parish. But let him be, if he can make a gain of a countenance, he is worthy to live by his wit: but, if he can take up wares or money upon days, not caring for the payment, till he have enriched himself with other men's goods, and upon a sudden take Ludgate, and pay them with the bankrupt; is it not pity, but that he who so abuseth the credit of a Merchant, should be banished for ever coming more into the city?  Lor. 
Alas, if a poor Gentleman break day, in the payment of forty shillings, the Sergeants will take him prisoner, and all the town will take him for a shifter: but God bless me out of such take.  Dor. 
Well, there are so many ill takers, that it is pity there are no better orders taken with them, but let them go. Now there are some that take all that comes, till being taken napping, the hangman taketh order with their clothes. Other take another man's wife for their own, that being taken with the matter, either fall into a pitiful taking for their knavery, or make their purses take order for their delivery. All these with many more, are wicked courses to be taken. But to leave all occasions of ill taking: take a good course, serve God, take a bit at home, rather than a banquet abroad, and water of thine own, than wine of another's: take account with thine estate for the defraying of thy charge, take no rent before the day, take no counsel with the wicked, take no pleasure in vanity, lest when you want that is necessary, you receive comfort with sorrow, or despair in misery: take not a wife without wealth, for it will help to hold love; nor without wit, for there is no plague to a fool; nor without grace, for it is a hell to be jealous; nor without beauty, for there is no pleasure in deformity; nor without education, for a slut will be noisome, and a novice idle; take her not too old for conscience sake, nor too young for thrifts sake; take knowledge of her, ere you love her, lest if you be mistaken, you were better to be without her. And last of all, take heed of a whore, a pair of dice, a parasite, a pander, a cheater, a flatterer, and a promoter. Take a Courtier for a fine man, a Lawyer for a wise man, a Soldier for a valiant man, a Divine for a learned man, a Merchant for a rich man, a clown for a painful man, and a beggar for a poor man: but for an honest man, take him as you find him, in what estate soever he be: If he be in a great one, give him honour; if in a mean one, give him praise. Now if you find wealth, valour, wisdom, learning, labour, and honesty, all in one man: note him for a rare man, and take him for the best man. But, because in many it falleth out, that wealth causeth pride; wit, cunning; learning, policy; valour, discord; pains, grief; and poverty, misery: take good notice of every man that you have to deal withal, and have to do with as few as you can. And for an end, if a good occasion may be taken, slip it not; if a good gift may be taken, refuse it not: and if you have taken a good course, leave it not. Take God for thy chief good, thy wit for thy servant, thy wife for thy companion, and thy children for thy comfort: and what thou hast, take patiently and thankfully. So, shalt thou be sure at the count-taking of all the world, thou shalt be taken into the joys everlasting. This rule was I taught to take by them, whom I justly took, and truly sound my good friends. So my good friend, for that I take a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 a gracious disposition in you, that you will not take scorn of a small gift of a poor friend: let me entreat you to take your supper and lodging upon my charge, and this piece of gold towards the defraying of your further charges. Thus when I had thankfully taken his kind offer, and further had well taken to memory his good admonitions, I took my leave of him, and according to his counsel took my way home again: where, how happy I should hold myself to enjoy your company, I shall make you know by that you find.  Dor. 
Oh Sir, you have got the start of me, it was the suit I meant to have made to you: but since it is your fortune to be afore me, I am at your will to be disposed.  Dor. 
Sir, compliments are so common, that they be of small account, and therefore I will say but this: Choose your own time, and make your own welcome.  Lor. 
If I can requite you, I will not forget you, and let this suffice you: shortly I hope to see you, I will always love you, and wish I could ever be with you.  Dor. 
What? shall we have old adverbs? As in absence you may see me, so in silence you may hear me? I pray you bear me company home, and I will bring you half way back again.  Lor. 
Indeed figures are good among ciphers: but honest minds have plain tongues, and therefore not to detract time, I am at your direction.  Dor. 
I thank you: Let us go.  
FINIS.