jyl of braintfords Testament. Newly Compiled. Proface mistress jyllian with your company I pray you fill you not to much of the mutton I promise you that it is very queisy And or ye be ware will make your belly button Take no thought good sir how I shall be filled But come you near & take part of our swilling Leave your courtesy I pray you be pyld And cover your head/ I be shrew the filling ¶ Prologus of Robert Copland the auctor. AT Brentforde on the west of London Nigh to a place that called is Zion There dwelled a widow of a holy sort Honest in substance & full of sport Da●ly she could with pastime and jests Among her neighbours and her guests She kept an Inn of right good lodging For all estates that thither were coming It chanced this widow as it is supposed In her sport and merrily disposed After her death for a remembrance Thought to have some matter of pastance For people to laugh at in such company As are disposed for to talk merrily Mingled with many proper scoffs & boards Of sundry taunts with some me●y words The which I have heard at many seasons Full of pastime with pretty reasons For if any did a thing overthwart They said ever ye shall have a fart Of jill of Brantford for your pain The which laying oft troubled my brain For I never kn●w what the matter was Nor could the meaning bring to pass Till at the last upon a day I met on john hardlesay A merry fellow in each company Which said Copland thou lookest dry The truth quoth I is as ye say For I drank not of all this day And of a short tale to make an end to the red lion at the shambles end We went for to drink good ale and as he was telling his tale I offered him for to drink first Copland quoth he art thou a thirst And biddeth me afore the to drink to my judgement I do think Of jill of Brentforde worthy thou art by her bequest to have a fart And truly now is come to my mind not long ago how I did find An old scrow all ragged and rend beseeming it is some merry intent As divers say that do it read but gallant toys there seems indeed It is Antic, broken/ and so razed that all the chief is clean defaced Take it and I pray the heartily look thereon and if thou espy That it be of any substance of mirth or of honest pastance And where thou spiest that it doth want or where for lack the matter is scant Put to it as is according to the matter in every thing Keep it with thee, and take sum pain the poor mare shall have his man again ¶ When I came home, at leisure My heart not perfectly at pleasure For the loss of a certain friend As God knows few be to find For recreation I it took to pass the time thereon to look And of troth oft in the reading it did stir me to fall on smiling Considering the pretty pastime and rydicle order of the rhyme The covert terms, under a merry sense showing of many the blind insolence Taunting of things past and to come where as myself was hit with some And for that cause I did intend after this manner to have it penned Praying all them that merry be if it touch them not to blame me ¶ An end of the prologue. Hear followeth the preface and Testament of mistress jyllyen of Braintford THis merry widow masters jyllian On a day disposed joyfully By any way that I presuppose can Ordained a little banquet of dainty At the which to bear her company For certain of her neighbours she sent and for her Curate to be there present Praying him for to bring paper and ink To write somewhat after her intent She made him cheer of her meat and drink That done she said, this is mine intent That you as now shall write my testament For I do feel that age doth me oppress Good is to have all thing in readiness My neighbours here shall be with you record how I am penitent at this making And whole of mind now thanks to our Lord how be it I have oft a shrewd shaking Ye shallbe pleased for your pain taking yea mistress quod he I am your curate I am bound to serve you early and late Well than quoth she, In dei nomine Amen My soul I ●equeth to our Lord almight He hath it made, it is his own than he hath it bought, it is his be right In heaven to be in the eternal light and to the earth I bequeatheth my body It is his own I can it not deny My sins all I commit to the Devil let him take them with him to hell For he was the causer of all mine evil My goods to the world of I do well For they be his I can it not expel here I found them, here they must remain Save fame & name I leave nothing certain Now unto my friends, reason is I should have a singular aspect by nature I give unto them all that they hold Asmuch as I do to any creature if they get aught then are they sure After my death if they do for me I bequeatheth to them of my charity But now good sir I pray you for to take This cup of ale and drink ones for God's sake For I am disposed to ordain a dole to all manner people thorough a hole For I would not have to over much press Lest that with throng my alms should cease Now ye have drunk one's good ghostly father I trust for to make an end the rather ¶ And write as I do bid you hardly I bequeatheth a fart to him that is angry with his friend, and wots not why To him that selleth all his heritage And all his life liveth in servage I bequeatheth a fart, for him in his age He that sets by no man, nor none by him And to promotion fain would climb I bequeatheth a fart, for to make him trim He that will not learn, and can do nothing And with lewd folk, is ever conversing I bequeatheth a fart, toward his living He that borroweth, without advantage And ever more reneweth in arrearage I bequeath a fart for to lie to gauge He that giveth, and keepeth nought at all And by kindness to poverty doth fall Shall have a fart to help him with all He that is ever wayward at heart And with every man is overthwart For to please him I bequeatheth a fart He that hath drink in his hand and is dry Bidding him drink first that standeth him by I bequeatheth a fart his thirst to satisfy He that hath a fa●re wench in bed all night And kisseth her not onse or it be day light Shall have a fart to cleanse his eye sight He that dareth a horse with all things meet and on his own voyage goeth on his feet Shall have a fart to keep him fro weet He that suffereth all manner of offence and loseth his goods through negligence Shall have a fart for a recompense He that taketh a wife and hath nothing and borroweth allthing to them belonging I will a fart toward their offering He that prepareth not for his household Against winter, and himself is old Shall have a fart, to keep him from cold He that goeth to a feast, to sup or to dine and hath no knife with him, neither course nor fie Shall have a fart, for to drink with his wine He that borroweth so much, till none will lend him and sweareth so much/ till none will believe him Shall have a fart/ for to relieve him He that mourneth for that, he cannot have and unpossible to get, that he doth crave Shall have a fart/ as a foolish knave He that doth nothing, but shave and poll and taketh no thought/ to save his soll Shall have a fart, his passing bell to toll. A Apprentice, or servant that will not obey and will not learn, but oft run away a fart for his freedom, I do purvey. He that suffereth his wife to do her lust and seethe that to folly she is full trust Shall have a fart, though I should burst. A widow that once, hath been in the brake and careth not whom that she doth take Shall have a fart, though mine at sake A maid that marrieth, not caring whom And doth repent when she cometh home Shall have a fart to by her a come ¶ He that doth drink evermore and will not shift to pay therefore Shall have a fart for to set on his score He that goeth to a fray at the beginning and to a good meal at the latter ending Shall have a fart for his good attending He that goeth oft where he is not welcome And to his friends house goeth but seldom Shall have a fart for his good wisdom ¶ Mistress jyll Now hold your hand make a stay there How many farts have I bequest here For by my troth I am almost weary The Curate. For soothe masters/ here is four and twenty ¶ Mistress' jill Nay set in one more to make a hole quarteron Curate Tell me what, and it shall be done anon ¶ Mistress' jill Marry he that doth his weapon lend And hath nothing himself to defend Shall have a fart, and there an end These I do bequeatheth in especial But as for all the other in general that are without number shall not be swerved But dealt to all such as have them deserved But tarry I pray you all if ye please For I feel me suddenly evil at ease It is a stitch, rumbling in my side which doth grieve me at many a tide I must rest me till the pang be gone For other medisin know I none It cometh in manner of a wind That causeth my belly for to grind I fear it will turn to a strangury to an undom, or to a timpany With qualms & stitches it doth me torment that all my body is torn and rend I have a little box full of diaculum I dare not for nigardship take sum I wiss I am unwise so for to spare it For I should take thereof a fore the fit ¶ The Curate. ¶ With that she groaned as panged with pain gripping her belly with her hands twain And lift up her buttok somewhat a wry and like a handgun, she let a fart fly ¶ Mistress jyll. ¶ Ah sirrah, marry a way the mare the devil give thee sorrow and care For thou hadst me almost slain I pray God thou come never again ¶ The Curate. With that sum laughed/ and sum did frown and for shame held their heads down ¶ Mistress jill Be merry neighbours, much good do it you I thank God, I am well eased now Lo there is my grief gone and past I witted well that it would not long last I pray you all for to be merry I give it among this company For to make you some cheer with all For I tell you mine executors shall Never have all by God I swear I will deal while I am here Now and than, where as I list By Christ I tell you, I have a chest Full that shall be open while I live Secretly and openly for to give I shall have enough/ I will not them spare As well for other, as mine own welfare When I am dead they that come after me Shall deal the rest, at their necessity Therefore as now, this is sufficient As concerning this said Testament To subscribe your names it shall not skill For I make it but a copy of a will As touching the choice of mine executors Of my funerals/ and suruciours And other trifles ye shall not take the pains Another time when it comes in my brains It shall be ordered after such a sort That some shall not take it as a sport But neighbours I pray you be not angry Because that I am to bold and homely To keep you here at my foolish reason Some will think my wits be geason But yet I tell you that all this season We have neither said herely nor treason And if they take it never so at hearts I wis it is but a bequest of farts Willed to them that with out advisement Do that thing where they repent Therefore I will you no longer trouble What maid, come hither I shrew your neck Bring us up shortly a quart of Sack a cuple of Bunnes and set us some cheese Lo friends, ye shall not all your labour lose I have as now no better cheer to make you Be merry and welcome, to God I betake you Finis. ¶ The auctor WHen the company was all passed & gone And the curate with mistress Jill alone masters ꝙ he, if it be your pleasance ye know it is the custom & ordinance Of them that writ a deed indenture or Bill That it is or right, reason and skill Some recompense of labour for to have Give what ye lust, for I will not crave By our Lady quoth she, that is but well said What johan How/ come hither maid Go call the company again to me For I have to say/ two words or three When they came, she said neighbours I pray you bear record what I do say I sent for you/ for a certain purpose which afore you I did disclose The truth is so, after the same rate I did send also for master Curate To write the same my simple Testament Now indeed, as is convenient He doth ask for his labour therefore indeed, because he made no bargain before And doth put it to my conscience Truly this shall he have for a recompense And because afore hand he knew not my mind he shall not find me to him unkind A fart and a half/ I will give him no les nor no more this is of my gentleness For be the worketh unknowing what to have Not half a fart is worthy for to crave And beside that, a hood full of bells why quoth the priest, get I nothing else Than to the devil, I give whole fart half & all nay take it thyself, foolish sir hoball Sir john whipdok, sir Jack whipstock Sir john smelsmock, as wise as a woodcok A hedge Curate, with asmuch wit as a Calf To sit so long for a fart and a half But to prove your brains to be thinner Or ever ye go/ pay for your dinner This she railed as her manner was to jest and so without farewell lost her daily gest Finis. ¶ Thus endeth jill of Brainfords' testament containing xxvi. farts and a half. ¶ An exhortation. My masters I pray you all that shall reed Or hear this little pretty fantasy Passing forth merrily in it to proceed The manner how for to deal most equally This half fart, truly for to try That the Curate, for his part be not denied Of the fart and the half, and let the rest lie and who shall have the half among you to be tried In this matter if you do agree Who shall have this half fart, say ye? ¶ Imprinted at London by me William Copland.