lantern and candlelight. OR, The Bell-mans' second Nights-walke. In which He brings to light, a Brood of more strange Villainies then ever were till this year discovered. — Decet novisse malum, fecisse, nefandum. The second edition, newly corrected and amended LONDON Printed for john Busbie, and are to be sold at his shop in Fleetstreet, in Saint Dunstanes Church-yard. 1609. A table of all the matters, that are contained in this Book▪ Chap. 1 Of Ointing. Cap. 2 1 What matters were tried at a Term that was in Hell. 2 The proceedings of that court 3 A counsel held in Hell about the Bellman. 4 A messenger sent from thence, with instructions Chap, 3 Of Gull-gro●ng. How Gentlemen are cheated at Ordinaries To furnish which feast, these Guests are bidden, viz. The Leaders The Forlorn Hope The Eagle The woodpecker The Gull The Gull-groper. Cap: 4 Of Ferreting. How Gentlemen are undone by taking up Commodity Which Tragedy hath these five acts, viz A Tumbler Pu●senetts A Ferret Ra●bet-suckers A Warren. Cap, 5 Of Hawking How to catch Birds by the Book Which is done with five Nets, viz. A Falconer A Lure A Te●cell Gentle A Bird A Mongril● Cap. 6 Of jacks of the Clockhouse Cap, 7 Of Ranek-Ryders How Innkeepers and Hackney men are saddled To make whom go a round pace, you must have, a colt a snaffle a Ring Proua●der. Cap, 8 Of Moone-men Cap, 9 The infection of the suburbs. Cap, 10 Of jynglers The Villainy of Horse-coursers Who consist of jynglers Drovers Goaded skip-Iackes. Cap, 11 Of jack in a Box, or a new kind of cheating, teaching how to change Gold into silver, unto which is added a Map, by which a man may learn how to Travel all over England, & have his charges borne. Cap, 12 The bel-man's second Nights walk, in which he mee●es with a number of Monsters that live in Darkness. To the very worthy Gentleman Master Francis Mustian of Peckam. Sir. IT may (happily) seem strange unto you, that such an army of Idle-words should march into the open field of the world under the Ensign of your Name, (you being not therewith made acquainted till now▪ you may judge it in me an Error, I myself confess it a boldness. But such an ancient & strong Charter hath Custom confirmed to This Printing age of ours, (by giving men authority to make choice of what Patrons they like,) that some Writers do almost nothing contrary to the custom, and some by virtue of that Privilege, dare do any thing. I am neither of that first order, nor of this last. The one is too fondly-ceremonious, the other too impudently audacious I walk in the midst (so well as I can) between both: with some fruits that have grown out of my Bra●, have I been so far from being in love, that I thought them not worthy to be tasted by any particular friend & therefore have they been exposed only to those that would entertain them: neither did I think the Fairest that ever was Mine, so worthy, that it was to be looked upon with the Eye of universal censure. Two sorts of madmen trouble the stationer's shops in Paul● Church-yard: they that out of a M●e and Idle vainglory will ever be Pampering (though their books being printed are scarce worth so much Brown paper) and this is a very poor, and foolish ambition: Of the other sort are they that being free of Wits Mer●hant-venturers, do every new moon (for gain only) make 5. o● 6. voyages to the Press, and every Termtime (upon Booksellers stalls) lay whole litters of blind invention: fellows the (if they do but walk in the middle I'll) spit nothing but ink, and speak nothing but Poem. I would keep company with neither of these two madmen, if I could avoid them, yet I take the last to be the wisest and less dangerous for sithence all the arrows that men shoot in the world, fly to two marks only (either pleasure or profit) he is not much to be condemned that having no more Acres to live upon then those that lie in his head) is every hour hammering out one piece or other out of this rusty Iron age, sithence the golden and silver Globes of the world are so locked up, that a Scholar can hardly be suffered to behold them. Some perhaps will say, that this lancing of the pestilent sores of a Kingdom so openly, may infect those in it that are found, and that in this our school, (where close abuses & gross villainies are but discovered and not punished) others that never before knew such evils, will be now instructed (by the book) to practise them. If so, then let not a traitor, or a Murderer be publicly arraigned, lest the one laying open to the world, how his plots were woven to contrive a treason, or the other, what policies he was armed with, for the shedding of blood, the standers-by (that are honest) be drawn (by their rules) to run headlong into the same mischief: no, Our strong physic works otherwise. What more makes a man to loath that Mongrel Madness (that half English, half Dutch sin) Drunkenness: then to see a common Drunkard acting his Scenes in the open street? Is any Gamester so foolish to play with false Dice, when he is assured that all who are about him know him to be a Sworn Cheater? The letting therefore of Vice blood in these several Veins, which the Belman hath opened, cannot by any judicial rules of physic, endanger the Body of the Commonwealth, or make it feeble, but rather restore those parts to perfect strength, which by disorder have been diseased. Give me leave to lead you by the hand into a Wilderness (where are none but Monsters, whose cruelty you need not fear because I teach the way to tame them: ugly they are in shape and devilish in conditions: yet to behold them a far off, may delight you, and to know their qualities (if ever you should come near them (may save you from much danger. Our Country breeds no Wolves nor Serpents, yet These engender here and are either Serpents or Wolves, or worse then both: whatsoever they are, I send unto you not the Herd of the one, or the Bed of the other, but only a Picture of either, View them I pray, and where the colours are not well laid on, shadow them with your finger: if you spy any disproportion, thus excuse it, such Painting is fit for Monsters: How rudely soever the Peeceis drawn, call it a Picture. And when one more worth your view lies under the workman's pencil, this Bad-one shall bring you home a Better: In the mean time, I cease, and begin to be (if you please) All yours. THOMAS DEKKER To my own Nation. Readers, AFter it was proclaimed abroad, that (under the conduct of the Belman of London,) new forces were (once more, to be levied against certain Wild and Barbarous Rebels, that were up in open arms against the tranquillity of the Weal public: It cannot be told, what numbers of voluntaries offered themselves daily to fight against so common, so bold, so strange, and so dangerous an enemy. Light Horsemen came in hourly, with discovery where these Mutineers lay entrenched: delivering (in brief notes of intelligence) who were their Leaders, how they went Armed, and that they served both on Horse & Foot: only their Strengths could not he descried, because their Numbers were held infinite. Yet instructions were written and sent every minute by th●se that were Favourers of Goodness showing what Military Disciplines the foe used in his Battles, and what Forts (if he were put at any time to flight) he would retire to; what stratagems he would practise, and where he did determine to lie in Ambuscado. They that could not serve in person in This Noble quarrel, sent their Auxiliary Forces, well armed with Counsel. So that the Belman (contrary to his own hopes,) seeing himself so strongly and strangely seconded by friends doth now bravely advance forward, in main battalion. The day of encounter is appointed to be in this Michaelmas Term. The place, Paules-Churh-yard, Fleetestreet, and other parts of the Ciitie. But before they join, let me give you note of one thing, and that is this. There is an Usurper, that of lat● hath taken upon him the name of the Belman, but being not able to maintain that Title, he doth now call himself the bel-man's brother, his ambition is (rather out of vain glory then the true courage of an Experienced Soldier) to have the leading of the Van, but it shall be honour good enough for him (if not too good) to tome up with the Rear. You shall know him by his Habiliments, for (by the furniture he wears) he will be taken for a Beadle of Bridewell. It is thought he is rather a Neuter than a friend to the cause: and therefore the Belman doth here openly protest that he comes into the field as no fellow in arms with Him. Howsoever it be struck, or whosoever gives the first blow, the victory depends upon the valour of you that are the Wings to the Bels-mans' army, for which conquest he is in hope you will valiantly fight sithence the quarrel is against the head of monstrous abus●, and the blows which you must give are in defence of Law, justice, Order, Ceremony, Religion, Peace, and that honourable title of Goodness. Saint George! I see the two Armies move forward: and behold, the Belman himself first chargeth upon the face of the Enemy. Thus: To the Author. HOw e'er thou mayst by blazing all Abuse, Incur suspect, thou speakest what thou hast proved, (though then to keep it close it thee behooved, S●, Reason makes for thee a just excuse) Yet of thy pains, the B●st may make good use, Then of the Best, thy pains should be approved, And for the same of them shouldst be beloved. Sith thou of Falsehoods Flood d●'st open the Sluice, That they at wast● continually may run, By she wing men ●he Reaches that they have, That honest men may so or'e-reach a Knave, Or ●ound their swallowing Deeps, the same to shun: But if from hence, a Knave more cunning grows, That Spider sucks but poison from thy Rose. Thy friend if thine own, Io: Da: To his Friend. OF Vice, whose Countermine a state confounds, Worse than Sedition: of those Mortal Wounds Which (thoroughly searched) do Kingdoms hearts endanger: Of Plagues that o'er run Cities: of those stranger Big-swollen Impostumes, poisoning the strong health Of the most Sound, best Dieted Commonwealth, Thou tell'st the Causes, and dost teach the Cure, By Mea'cine well-compounded, cheap, and sure: And (as One read in deep Chirurgery,) Drawest of these Evils, the true Anatomy. Then, on thy Plainness let none lay reproof, Thou tak'st sin's height (as men do stars) aloof. M: R: To my industrious friend. IN an ill Time thou writ'st, when Tongues had rather Spit venom on thy lines, then from thy labours (As Druggist's do from poison) medicine gather; This is no Age to crown Desert with Favours. But be thou Constant to thyself, and care not What Arrows Malice shoots: the Wise will never Blame thy Loud singing, and the Foolish dare not: None else but Wolves will bark at thine Endeavour. When thou (in thy dead Sleep) liest in thy Grave, These Charms to afterages up shall raise thee; What here thou leav'st, alive thy Name shall save, And what thou now dispraisest, shall then praise thee. though, Not to know ill, be wise Ignorance, Yet thou (by Reading Evil) dost Goodness teach, And, of abuse the colours dost advance Only upon abuse to force a breach; The honour that thy pen shall earn thereby, Is this: that though Knaves Live, their flights (Here) die. E: G: Lantern & candlelight, Or The bell-man's second Nights walk. Of Canting. How long it hath been a language: how it comes to be a language: how it is derived, & by whom it is spoken. CHAP. I. WHen all the World was but one Kingdom, One language through all the world at the beginning all the People in that Kingdom spoke but one language. A man could travel in those days neither by Sea nor land, but he met his Countrymen & none others. Two could not then stand gambling with strange tongues, and conspire together (to his own face) how to cut a third man's throat, but he might understand them. There was no Spaniard (in that Age) to Brave his enemy in the Rich and Lofty Castilian: no Roman Orator to plead in the rhetorical and Fluent Latin: no Italian to court his Mistress in the sweet and Amorous Thuscane● no Frenchman to parley in the full and stately phrase of Orleans: no German to thunder out the high and rattling Dutch: the unfruitful crabbed Irish, and the Uoluble significant Welsh, were not then so much as spoken of: the quick Scottish Dialect (sister to the ●nglish) had not then a tongue, neither were the strings of the English speech (in those times) untied. When she first learned to speak, it was but a broken language: the singlest and the simplest Words flowed from her utterance: for she dealt in nothing but in Monosillables, (as if to have spoken words of greater length would have cracked her Uoice) by which means her Eloquence was poorest, yet hardest to learn, and so (but for necessity) not regarded amongst Stranngers. Yet afterwards those Noblest Languages lent her Words and English tongue comparable to the best. phrases, and turning those Borrow into Good husbandry, she is now as rich in Elocution, and as abundant as her proudest & Best-stored Neighbours. Whilst thus (as I said before) there was but one Alphabet of Letters, for all the world to Read by all the people that then lived, might have wrought upon one piece of work in countries far distant a sunder, without mistaking one another, and not needing an interpreter to run between them. Which thing Nymrod (the first Idolater,) perceiving, and not knowing better how to employ so many thousand Million of Subjects as bowed before him: a fire of Ambition burned within him, to climb up so high that he might see what was done in heaven: And for that purpose, workmen were summoned from all the corners of the Earth, who presently were set to Build the Tower of Babel. But the Maisterworkeman of this Great Universe, (to check the Insolence Building of Babel. of such a Saucy builder) that durst raze up Pinnacles, equal to his own (above) commanded the self-same Spirit that was both bred in the Chaos and had mainteind it in disorder, to be both Surveyor of those works and controller of the Labourers. This Messenger was called Confusion. It was a Spirit swift of sight, & faithful of service. Her looks wild, terrible and inconstant. Confusion described. Her attire, carelessly, loose, and of a thousand several colours. In one hand she gripped a heap of storms with which (at her pleasure) she could trouble the waters: In the other she held a whip, to make three Spirits that drew her, to gallop fasts before her: the Spirits names were Treason, Sedition & War, who at every time w● they went abroad, were ready to set Kingdoms in uproar. She road upon a Chariot of Clowns, w● was always furnished with Thunder, Lightning, Winds, Raine, Hailstones, Snow, & all the other Artillery belonging to the service of Divine Vengeance: & when she spoke, her Voice sounded like the roaring of many Torrents, boisterously struggling together: for between her jaws did she carry 1000000. Tongues. This strange Linguist, stepping to every Artificer that was there at work, whispered in his ear whoses looks Beginning of languages. were there upon (presently) 〈◊〉 with a strange distraction: and on a sudden whilst every man was speaking to his fellow, his language altered and no man could understand what his fellow spoke. They all stared one upon another, yet none of them all could tell wherefore so they stared Their Tongues went, and their hands gave action to their Tongues: yet neither words nor action were understood. It was a Noise of a thousand sounds, and yet the sound of the noise was nothing. He that spoke, knew he spoke well: and he that heard, was mad that the other could speak no better. In the end they grew angry one with another, as thinking they had mocked one another of purpose. So that the Mason was ready to strike the Bricklayer, the Bricklayer to beats out the brains of his Labourer: the Carpenter took up his Axe to throw at the Carver, whilst the Carver was stabbing at the Smith, because he brought him a Hammer when he should have made him a chisel. He that called for Timber, had Stones laid before him: & when one was sent for Nails, he fetched a Trey of Mortar. Thus Babel should have been razed, and by this means Babel fell. The Frame could not go forward, the staff was thrown by, the workmen made holiday. Every one packd up his tools to be gone, yet not to go the same way that he came but glad was he, that could meet another, whose speech he understood for to what place soever he went, others (that ran madding up and down) hearing a man speak like themselves, followed only him: so that they who when the work began were all countrymen, before a quarter of it was finished, fled from one another, as from enemies & strangers: And in this manner did Men at the first make up nations: thus were words coined into Languages, & out of those Languages have others been moulded since, only by the mixture of nations, after kingdoms have been subdued. But I am now to speak of a People & a Language, of both which (many thousands of years since that Wonder wrought at Babel) the world till now never made mention: yet confusion never dwelled more amongst any Creatures. The Bellman (in his first Voyage which The Bellma●s first book. he made for Discoveries) found them to be savages, yet living in an Island very temperate, fruitful, full of a Noble Nation, and rarely governed. The Laws, Mamners and habits of these Wild-men, are plainly set down, as it were in a former painted Table. Yet least happily a stranger may look upon this second Picture of them, who neverbeheld The first, it shall not be amiss (in this place) to repeat over again the Names of all the Tribes into which they Divide themselves, both when they Serve abroad in the open fields, and when they lie in garrison within Towns & walled Cities. And these are their Ranks as they stand in order. viz. Rufflers. upright-men. hooker's, alias Anglers, Rogues. Wild Rogues. Priggers of Prancers. Paillards. Fraters. Prigges. Swadders. Curtals. Irish Toils. Swigmen. jarkmen. Patricoes. Kinchin-Coes. Abraham-men, Mad Tom alias of Bedlam Whip-Iackes. Counterfeit Cranks. Dommerats. Glymmerers. Bawdy-Baskets. Autem Morts. Doxies. Dells. Kinchin-Morts. Into thus many Regiments are they now divided: but in former times (above four hundred years now past) they did consist of five Squadrons only. viz. 1 Cur●ors, alias Vagabonds. 2 Faytors. 3 Robardsemen. 4 Draw-latches. 5 Sturdy Beggars. And as these people are strange both in names and in their conditions, so do they speak a Language (proper only to themselves) called canting, which is more strange. Of canting. Howlong, By none but the soldiers of These tottered bands is it familiarly or usually spoken, yet within less than fourescorce years (now passed) not a word of this Language was known. The first Inventor of it, was hanged, yet left he apt scholars behind him, who have reduced that into Method, which he on his deathbed (which was a pair of gallows) could not so absolutely perfect as he desired. It was necessary, that a people (so fast increasing, & so Canting ha● been used. The first canter hanged. daily practising new & strange Villainies, should borrow to themselves a speech, with (so near as they could (none but themselves should understand: & for that cause was this Language, (which some call peddlers French,) Invented, to th'intent that (albeit any Spies should secretly How canting grew to be a language. steal into their companies to discover th●) they might freely utter their minds one to another, yet avoid the danger. The Language therefore of canting, they study even from their Infancy, that is to say, from the very first hour, that they take upon them the names of Kinchin Coes, tillthey are grown Rufflers, or upright-men, which are the highest in degree amongst them. This word canting seems to be derived from the latin verb (canto) which signifies in English, to sing, or to make a sound with words, that's to say to speak. And very aptly may canting take his derivation a cantando, from singing, because amongst these beggarly consorts that can play upon no better instruments, the language of canting is a k●de of music, and he that in such assemblies can c●nt best, is counted the best physician. Now as touching the Dialect or phrase itself, I see not that it is grounded upon any certain rules; And no marvel if it have none, for sithence both the Father of this new kind of Learning, and the children that study to speak it after him, have been from the beginning and still are, the Breeders and Nourishers of albase disorder, in their living and in their Manners: how is it possible, they should observe any Method in their speech, and especially in such a Language, as serves but only to utter discourses of villainies? And yet (even out of all that Irregularity, unhansomnesse, & Fountain of Barbarism) do they draw a kind of form: and in some words, (aswell simple as compounds) retain a certain salt, tasting of some wit and some Learning. As for example, they call a cloak (in the canting tongue) a Togeman, and in Latin, Toga signifies a gown, or an upper garment. Pannam is bread: & Panis in Latin is likewise bread, cassan is cheese, and is a word barbarously coined out of the substantive caseus which also signifies cheese. And so of others. Then by joining of two simples, do they make almost all their compounds. As for example: Nab (in the canting The Dialect of canting. tongue) is a head, & Nab-cheate, is a hat or a cap, Which word cheat being coupled to other words, stands in very good stead, and dees excellent service: For a Smelling cheat, signifies a Nose: a Prattling chete, is a tongue. Crashing chetes, are teeth: Hearing chetes are Ears: Fambles are Hands: and thereupon a ring is called a Fambling chete. A Muffling chete, signifies a Napkin. A Belly chete, an Apron▪ A Grunting chete, A Pig: A Cackling Chete, a Cock or a Capon: A Quacking chete, a duck: A Lowghing chete, a Cow: A Bleating chete, a Calf, or a Shee●e: and so may that word be married to many others besides. The word Cove, or Cofe, or Cuffin, signifies a Man, a Fellow, etc. But differs something in his property, according as it meets with other words: For a Gen, tleman is called a Gentry Cove, or Cofe: A good fellow is a Bene Cofe: a Churl is called, a Quire Cuffin; Quire signifies nought, and Cuffin (as I said before) a man: and in Canting they term a justice of peace, (because he punisheth them belike) by no other name then by Quire cuffin, that is to say a Churl, or a naughty man. And so, Ken signifying a house, they call a prison, a Quire ken, that's to say, an ill house. Many pieces of this strange coin could I show you, but by these small stamps, you may judge of the greater. Now because, a Language is nothing else then heaps of words, orderly woven and composed together: and that (within so narrow a circle as I have drawn to myself) it is impossible to imprint a Dictionary of all the Canting phrases: I will at this time not make you surfeit on too much, but as if you were walking in a Garden, you shall openly pluck here a flower, and there another, which (as I take it) will be more delightful than if you gathered them by handfuls. But before I lead you into that walk, stay and hear a Canter in his own language, making 〈◊〉, albeit (I think) those charms of Poesy which (at the first) made the barbarous tame, and brought them to civilly, can (upon these savage Monsters) work no such wonder. Yet thus he singes (upon demand whether any of his own crew did come that way) to which he answers, yes (quoth he) Canting rhythms. ENough— with bouzy Cove maund Nace, Tour the Patring Cove in the Darkeman Case, Docked the Dell, for a Coper meek, His watch shall feng a Prounces Nab-chete, Cyar●m, by Salmon, and thou shalt pek my jere In thy 'Gan, for my watch it is nace gear, For the been bows my watch hath a win etc. This short Lesson I leave to be construed by him that is desirous to try his skill in the language, which he may do by help of the following Dictionary; into which way that he may more readily come, I will translate into English, this broken French that follows in Prose. Two Canters having wrangled a while about some idle quarrel, at length growing friends, thus one of them speaks to the other. viz. A Canter in prose. Stow you been Cofe: and cut benar whiddes and b'ing we to Rome vile, to nip a boung: so shall we have lower for the bousing ken, & when we being back to the Dewese a vile, we will filch some Duds, off the Ruffmen, or mill the Ken for a lag of Dudes. Thus in English Stowe you, been cofe: hold your peace good fellow, And cut benar whiddes: and speak better words. And b'ing we to Rome vile: and go we to London. To nip a boung: to cut a purse. So shall we have lower: so shall we have money. For the bousing Ken, for the Alehouse. And when we b'ing back: and when we come back. To the Dewse-a-vile: into the Country. We will filch some duds: we will filch some clothes, Off the Ruffmen: from the hedges, Or mill the Ken: or rob the house, For a lag of Duds: for a buck of clothes. Now turn to your dictionary. ANd because you shall not have one dish twice set before you, none of those Canting words that are englished before shall here be found: for our intent is to feast you with variety. The Canter's Dictionary. AVtem, a church. Autem-mort, a married waman. Boung, a purse. Board, a shilling. Half a Board, six pence. Bowse, drink. Bousing Ken, an alehouse. Been, good. Beneship, very good: Bufe, a Dog, B'ing a waist, get you hence. Caster, a Cloak. A Commission, a shirt. Chates, the Gallows. To cly the jerk, to be whipped. To cut, to speak. To cut been, to speak gently. To cut been whiddes, to speak good words. To cut quire whiddes, to give evil language. To Cant, to speak. To couch a Hogshead, to lie down a sleep. Drawers, Hosen. Dudes, clothes. Darkemans, the night. Dewse-a-vile, the country, Dup the Giger, open the door. Fambles, hands. Fambling Chete, a King. Flag, a Goat glaziers, eyes. 'Gan, a mouth. Gage, a Quart pot. Grannam, Corne. Gibe, a writing. glimmer, fire. Gigger, a door Gentry Mort, a Gentlewoman▪ Gentry cofes Ken, a Noble man's house▪ Harman bek, a Constable. harman's, the Stocks. Heave a bough, rob a Boothe. jarke, a Seal. Ken, a house. Lage of Dudes, a Buck of clothes. Libbege, a bed. Lower, money. Lapet, Butter, Milk, or Whey. Libken, a house to lie in. Lage, Water. Light-mans', the day. Mint, Gold. A Make, a halfpenny. Margery prater, a Hen. Mawnding, ask. To Mill, to steal. Mill a Ken, rob a house. Nosegent, a Nun. Niggling, companying with a woman. Prat, a Buttock. Perk, meat. Poplars. Pottage. Prancer, a Horse. Prigging, Kiding. Patrico, a Priest. Pad, a way. Quaromes, a body. Ruff-peck, Bacon. Roger, or Tib of the Buttery, a Goose. Rome-vile, London. Rome-bowse, Wine. Rome-mort, a Queen. Ruffmen, the woods, or bushes. Ruffian, the Devil. Stamps: legs. Stampers? shoes. Slate: a sheet. Skew: a cup. Solomon: the mass. Stuling ken: a house to receive stolen goods. Skipper: a barn. Strummel, straw. Smelling chete, an Orchard or Garden. To scour the Cramp-ring: to wear bolts. Stalling: making or ordaining. Tryning: hanging. To twore: to see. Wyn: a penny. Yarum: milk. And thus have I builded up a little Mint, where you may coin words for your pleasure. The payment of this was a debt: for the Bellman at his farewell (in his first Round which he walked) promised so much. If he keep not touch, by tendering the due Sum, he desires forbearance, and if any that is more rich in this Canting commodity will lend him any more, or any better, he will pay his love double: In the mean time, receive this, and to give it a little more weight, you shall have a Canting song, wherein you may learn, how This cursed Generation pray, or (to speak truth) curse such Officers as punish them. A Canting song. THe Ruffian cly the nab of the Harman beck, If we mawn●d Pannam, lap or Ruff-peck, Or poplars of yarum: he cuts, b'ing to the Ruffmen, Or else he swears by the light-mans', To put our stamps in the harman's. The ruffian cly the ghost of the Harmanbeck, If we heave a booth we cly the jerk. If we niggle, or mill a bousing Ken, Or nip a boung that has but a win, Or dup the giger of a Gentry cofes ken, To the quire cuffing we b'ing, And then to the quire Ken, to scour the Cramp-ring, And then to the Trin'de on the chates, in the lightmen The Bube & Ruffian cly the Harman beck & harman's. Thus Englished. THe Devil take the Constable's head, If we beg Bacon, Buttermilk or bread. Or Pottage, to the hedge he bids us high, Or swears (by this light) i'th' stocks we shall lie. The Devil haunt the Constable's ghost, If we rob but a Booth, we are whipped at a post. If an alehouse we rob, or be ta'en with a whore, Or cut a purse that has just a penny and no more, Or come but stealing in at a Gentleman's door, To the justice strait we go, And then to the jail to be shackled: And so To be hanged on the gallows i'th' day time: the pox And the Devil take the Constable and his stocks. We haus Canted (I fear) too much, let us now giu●●are to the Belman, and hear what he speaks in english. THE BEL-MANS' SECOND Night's walk. CHAP. 2 IT was Termtime in hell (for you must understand, a Lawyer lives there aswell as here:) by which means done Lucifer (being the justice Qui fixit leges 〈◊〉 atque●efixit. for that County, where the Brimstone mines are) had better doings and more rapping at his gates, than all the Doctors & Empirical Quacksalvers of ten cities have at theirs in a great plague-time. The hall where these Termers were to try their causes, was very large A description of the Hall where matters are tried in He●l. and strongly built, but it had one fault: it was so hot that people could not endure to walk there: Yet to walk there they were compelled, by reason they were drawn thither upon occasions, and such justling there was of one another, that it would have grieved any man to be in the throngs amongst 'em. Nothing could be heard but noise, and nothing of that noise be understood, but that Hinc exaudir gemitus, etc. it was a sound as of men in a kingdom, when on a sudden it is in an uproar. Every one brabled with him that he walked with, or if he did but tell his tale to his Council, he was so eager in the very delivery of that tale, that you would have sworn he did brabble: and The judge of the court, Haec Rhadaman●us babe● durissima regna; Castigatque ditque dolos, subig●que 〈◊〉, etc. such gnashing of teeth there was when adversaries met together, that the filing of ten thousand Saws cannot yield a sound more horrible. The judge of the Court had a devilish countenance, and as cruel he was in punishing those that were condemned by Law, as he was crabbed in his looks, whilst he sat to hear their trials. But albeit there was no pity to be expected at his hands, yet was he so upright in justice, that none could ever fasten bribe upon him, for he was ready and willing to hear the cries of all comers. Neither durst any Pleader (at the infernal Bar) or any officer of the Court, exact any Fee of Plaintiffs, and such as complained of wrongs and were oppressed: but only they 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. paid that were the wrong doers, those would they see damned ere they should get out of their fingers, such fellows they were appointed to vex at the very soul. The matters that here were put in suit, were more than could be bred in twenty Uacations, yet should a man be dispatched out of hand. In one Term he had The customs and condition of the court. his judgement, for hear they never stand upon Returns, but presently come to Trial. The causes decided here are many; the Clients that complain many; the Counsellors (that plead till they be hoarse,) many; the Attorneys (that run up and down,) infinite; the unde nunquam quum semel venit potuit e●uerti. Clerks of the Court, not to be numbered. All these have their hands full; day and night are they so plagued with the bawling of Clients that they never can rest. The Ink wherewith they write, is the blood of Conjurers: they have no Paper, but all things are engrossed in Parchment, and that Parchment is made of scriveners skins flayed off, after they have been puni●ed for Forgery: their Standishes are the Scuds of Usurers: their Pens, the bones of unconscionable Brokers, and hard-hearted Creditors, that have made dice of other men's bones, or else of perjured Excecutors and blind Ouer-séeers, that have eaten up Widows and Orphans to the bare bones: and those Pens are made of purpose without Nebs, because they, may cast Ink but slowly, in mockery of those who in their life time were slow in yielding drops of pity. Would you know what actions are tried here? I will What matters are tried before the Devil. but turn over the Records, and read them unto you as they hang upon the File. The Cou●●er is sued here, and condemned for Riots. The Soldier is sued here and condemned for murders The Scholar is sued here & condemned for He●ezies. The Citizen is sued here and condemned for the cityfins. The Farmer is sued here upon Penal Statutes, and condemned for spoiling the Markets. 〈◊〉 Quique arm● secuti impia. 〈◊〉 Epulaeque ante eraparatae-furiarum maxima iux● accubat, & manibus prohibet contingere mens●. Actions of battery are brought against Swaggerers, and here they are bound to the peace. Actions of Waste are brought against drunkards and Epicures, and here they are condemned to beg at the Grate for one drop of cold water to cool their tongues, or one 〈◊〉 of bread to stay their hunger, yet are they denied it. Harlot's have process sued upon them here, and are condemned to Howling, to Rottenness and to Stench. No Acts of Parliament that have passed the * Heaven Upper-house, can be broken, but here the breach is punished, and that severely, and that suddenlly: For here they stand upon no demurs; no Audita-Queraela can here be gotten, no writs of Errors to Reverse judgement: here is no flying to a court of Chancery for relee●, yet every one — Exercentur Pae●s, eternumque malorum. Supplicia expend● that comes hither is served with a Sub-poena. No, they deal altogether in this Court upon the Habeas Corpus, upon the Capias, upon the Ne exeat Regneum, upon Rebellion, upon heavy Fines (but no Recoveries) upon writers of Out-lary, to attach the body for ever, & last of all upon Executions, after judgement, which being served upon a man is his everlasting vnd●oing. Such are the Customs and courses of proceedings in the Offices belonging to the Prince of Darkness. These hot doings hath he in his Term-times. But upon a day when a great matter was to be tried between an Englishman and a Dutchman, which of the two were the foulest Drinkers, and the case being a long time in arguing, by reason that strong evidence came in re●ling on both sides, (yet it was thought that the Englishman would carry it away, and cast the Dutchman) on a sudden all was stayed by the sound of a horn that was heard at the lower end of the Hall. And every one looking back (as wondering at the strangeness) to me room was cried and made through the thickest of the crowd, for a certain spirit in the likeness of a post who made away on a little lean Nag by to the Bench where judge Rad amanth with his two grim Brothers (Minos and Aeacus) sat. This spirit was an intelligencer sent by Belzebub of Batharum into some Countries of Christendom, to lie there as a spy, ●had brought with him a packet of letters from several Leigiars, that lay in those Countries, for the service of the Tartarian their Lord and Master, which packet being opened, all the Letters, (because they concerned the general good and state of those low Countries in Hell) were publicly read. The contents of ●ranci Reg●. that Letter stung most, and put them all out of their lawcases, were to this purpose. THat whereas the Lord of Fiery Lakes, had his Ministers A letter against the Belman in all kingdoms above the earth, whose Offices were not only to win subjects of other Princes to his obedience, but also to give notice when any of his own sworn household, or any other that held league with him should revolt or fly from their duty & allegiance: as also discover from time to time all plots, conspiracies, machinations, or underminings, that scold be laid (albeit they that durst lay them should dig deep enough) to blow up his great Internal city: so that if his Horned Regiment were not suddenly mustered together, and did not lustily bestir their cloven stumps, his Territories wield be shaken, his dominions left in time unpeopled, his forces looked into, and his authority which he held in the world, contemned & laughed to scorn. The reason was, that a certain fellow. The Child of Darkness, a common The Bellman Nightwalker, a man that had no man to wait upon him but only a Dog, one that was a disordered person, and at midnight would beat at men's doors, bidding them (in mere mockery) to look to their candles when they themselves were in their dead sleeps: and albeit he was an Officer, yet he was but of Light-carriage, being known by the name of the Bellman of London, had of late not only drawn a number of the Devils own kindred into question for their lives, but had also (only by the help of the lantern & candle) looked into the secrets of the best trades that are taught in hell, laying them open to the broad eye of the world, making them infamous, edious, and ridiculous: yea, and not satisfied with doing this wrong to his divellship, very spitefully hath he set them out in print, drawing their pictures so to the life, that now a horse-stealet shall not show his head, but a balter with the Hangman's noose is ready to be fastened about it: A Foist nor a Nip shall not walk into a Fair or a Playhouse, but every crack will cry look to your purses: nor a poor common Rogue come to a man's door, but he shall be examined if he can cant? If this bauling fellow therefore have not his mouth stopped, the light Angels that are coined below, will never be able to pass as they have done, but be nailed up for counterfeits, Hell will have no doings, and the devil be nobody. This was the lining of the Letter, and this Letter drove them all to a Nonplus, because they knew not how to answer it. But at last advice was taken, the Court broke up, the Term was adjourned, (by reason that the Hellhounds were thus Plagued) and a common counsel in hell was presently called how to redress these abuses. The Satanical Synagogue being set, up starts the Father of Hell and damnation, and looking very terribly with a pair of eyes that stared as wide as the mouth gapes at Bishopsgate, fetching four or five deep sighs (which were nothing else but the Smoke of fire & brimstone boiling in his stomach, and showed as if he were taking tobacco, which be often times does) told his children & servants (& the rest of the citizens that dwelled wichin the freedom of Hell, and sat there before him upon narrow low forms) that they never had more cause to lay their heads together, and to grow politicians. He and they all knew, that from the Corners of the earth, some did every hour in a day creep forth, to come and serve him: yea, that many thousands were so be witched with H●c omnis turba. his favours, and his rare parts, that they would come running quick to him, his dominions (he said) were great and full of people: Emperors and Kings, (in infinite numbers) were his slaves: his court was full of Princes: if the world were divided (as some report) but into three parts Innum●rae ge● 〈◊〉 populique two of those three were his: or if (as others affirm) into four parts, almost three of that four had he firm footing. But if such a fellow as a treble voiced Belman, should be suffered to pry into the infernal Mysteries, & into those Black Acts which command the spirits of the Deep, & having sucked what knowledge he can from them, to turn it all into poison, & to spit it in the very faces of the professors, with a malicious intent to make them appear ugly and so to grow hateful and out of favour with the world: if such a conjuror at midnight should dance in their circles and not be driven out of them, hell in a few years would not be worth the dwelling in. The great Lord of Limbo did therefore command all his Black Guard that stood about him, to bestir them in their places, and to defend the Court wherein they lived: threatening (besides) that his curse, & all the plagues of stinking hell should fall upon Grauco●entis 〈◊〉. his officers, servants, and subjects, unless they either advised him, how, or take some speedy order themselves to punish that saucy intelligencer, the Belman of London. Thus he spoke and then sat. At last, a foolish Devil rose up, and shot the bolt of his advice, which flew thus far, That the Blacke-dogge of Newgate should again be let loose, and a far off, follow the Balling Belman, to watch into what places he went, and what deeds of darkness (every night) he did. Hinc risus! The whole Syniodicall assembly, fell a laughing at this Wise-acre, so that neither he nor his blacke-Dogge durst bark any more. Another, thinking to cleave the very pin with his arrow, drew it home to the head of Wisdom (as he imagined) and yet that lighted wide too, But thus shot his Counsel, that the Ghosts of all those thieves, Cheaters, and others of the damned crew, (who by the bel-man's discovery, had been betrayed, were taken and sent westward) should be fetched from those fields of Horror, where every night they walk, disputing with Doctor Story, who keeps them company there in his corner Cap: & that those wry-necked spirits should have charge given them to haunt the Belman in his walks, and so fright him out of his wits. This Devil for all his roaring, went away neither with a Plaudite, nor with a hiss: Others stepped up, some pronouncing one verdict some another: But at the last, it being put into their Devilish heads, that they had no power over him farther than what should be given unto them, it was concluded and set down as a rule in Court, that some one strange spirit, 〈◊〉 could transport himself into all shapes, should be sent up to London, and scorning to take revenge upon so mean a person as a bell-ringer, should thrust himself into such companies, (as in a warrant to be signed for that purpose) should be nominated: and being once grown familiar with them, he was to work and win them by all possible means to fight under the dismal and black colours of the Grand Sophy, (his Lord and Master:) the fruit that was to grow upon this tree of evil, would be great, for it should be fit to be served up to Don Lucifer's Table, as a new banqueting Dish, sithence all his other meats, (though they fatted him well) were grown stale Hereupon Pamersiell the Messenger was called, a passport was drawn, signed and delivered to him, with certain instruments how to carry himself in this travel. And thus m●ch was openly spoken to him by word of mouth. Fly Pamersi●l with speed to the great and populous city in the West: wind thyself into all shapes: be a Dog (to fawn) a Dragon (to confound) be a Dou● (seem innocent) be a Devil (as thou art) and show that thou art a jorniman to hell. Build rather thy nest amongst willows that bend every way, then on tops of Oaks, whose hearts are hard to be broken: Fly with the Swallow, close to the earth, when storms are at hand, but keep company with Birds of greater talons, when the weather is clear, & never leave them till they look like Ravens: creep into bosom● that are buttoned up in satin and there spread the wings of thine infection: make every head thy pillow to lean upon, or use it like a Mill, only to grind mischief. If thou meetest a Dutchman, drink with him: if a Frenchman, stab: if a Spaniard, betray: if an Italian poison: if an Englishman do all this. Haunt Taverns, there thou shalt 〈◊〉 yrodigalls: pay thy twopences to a Player, in his gallery mayst thou sit by a Harlot: at Ordinaries mayst thou dine with silken fools: when the day steals out o●●orld, thou shalt meet rich drunkards, under wel● gowns search for threescore in the hundred, hug those golden villains, they shine bright, and will make a good show in hell, shriek with a cricket in the brewhouse, & watch how they conjure there: Ride up and down Smithfield, and play the jade ther●: Visit prisons, and teach jailers how to make nets of Iron there: bind thyself Apprentice to the best trades: but if thou canst grow extreme rich in a very short time, (honestly) I banish thee my kingdom, come no more into hell, I have read thee a lecture, follows it, farewell. No sooner was farewell spoken, but the spirit to whom all these matters were given in charge, vanished: the clo●en footed Orator arose, and the whole assembly went about their damnable business. Gul-groping. How Gentlemen are cheated at Ordinaries. Chap. 3 THe devils footman was very nimble of his heels (for no wilde-Irish man could outrun him, and therefore in a few hours, was he come up to London: the miles between Hell and any place upon earth being shorter than those between London and Saint Alban's, to any man that travels from thence thither, or to any Lackey that comes from hence hither on the devils errands: but to any other poor soul, that dwells in those low countries, they are never at an end, and by him are not possible to be measured. No sooner was he entered into the City, but he met with one of his masters daughters called Pride, dressed like a Matchants' wife, who taking acquaintance of him, and understanding for what he came, told him, that the first thing he was to do, he must put himself in good clothes, such as were suitable to the fashion of the time, for that here, men were looked upon only for their outsides: he that had not ten-pounds-worth of wares in his shop, would carry twenty marks on his back: that there were a number of sumpter-borses in the city, who cared Aus●rimur cultu; Gemmis aureque tegnutur omnia. not how coarsely they fed, so they might were gay trappings: pea, that some pied fools, to put on satin and velvet but four days in the year did oftentimes undo themselves, wives and Children ever after. The spirit of the devils Buttery hearing this, made a leg to Pride for her counsel, and knowing by his own experience that every Tailor hath his bell to himself, under his Shopboard, (where he dams new Satin) amongst them he thought to find best welcome, and therefore into Burchen-lane he stalks very mannerly, Pride going along with him, and taking the upper hand. No sooner was he entered into the ranks of the Linen Burchin lane described. Tailors at first were called L●n. Armourers. sergeant Armourers, (whose weapons are Spanish needles) but he was most terribly and sharply set upon every: apprentice boy had a pull at him: he feared they all had been sergeant, because they all had him by the back: never was poor devil so tormented in hell, as he was amongst them: he thought it had been Saint Thomas his day, & that he had been called upon to be Constable: there was such bawling in his ears: and no strength could shake them off, but that they must shows him some suits of apparel, because they saw what Gentlewoman was in his company (whom they all knew) Seeing no remedy, into a shop he goes, was fitted bravely, and beating the price, found the lowest to be unreasonable, yet paid it, and departed, none of them (by reason of their crowding about him before) perceiving what customer they had met with, but now the Tailor spying the devil, suffered him to go, never praying that he would know the shop another time, but looking round about his warehouse if nothing were missing, at length he found that he had lost his conscience: yet remembering himself, that they who deal with the devil, can hardly keep it, he stood upon it the less. The fashions of an Ordinary. THe Stygian traveler being thus translated into an accomplished gallant, with all acoutrements belonging (as a feather for his head, gilt rapier for his sides, & new boots to hide his polt foot (for in Bedlam be met with a shoemaker, a mad slave, that knew the length of his last) it rested, only that now he was to enter upon company suitable to his clothes: and knowing that your most selected Gallants are the only table-men that are played with all at Ordinaries, into an Ordinary did he most gentleman like, convey himself in state. It seemed that all who came thither, had clocks in their bellies, for they all struck into the dining room much about the very minute of feeding. Our Cavalier had all the eyes (that came in (thrown upon him, (as being a stranger's for no Ambassador from the devil ever dined amongst them before,) and he as much took especial notes of them. In observing of whom and of the place he found, that an Ordinary was the only Rendezvouz for the most ingenious, most terse, most travailed, and most fantastic gallant: the very Exchange for news out of all countries: the only Booksellers shop for conference of the best Editions, that if a woman (to be a Lady (would cast away herself upon a knight, there a man should hear a Catalogue of most of the richest London widows: 〈◊〉 last, that it was a school where they were all fellows of one Form, & that a country gentleman was of as great coming as the proudest justice that sat there on the bench above him: for he that had the grain of the table with his trencher, paid no more than he that placed himself beneath the salt. The divers intelligencer could not be contented to fill his eye only with these objects, and to feed his belly with delicate cheer: But he drew a larger picture of all that were there, and in these colours. The ucider having cleared the table; Cards & Dice (for the last Mess) are served up to the board: they that are full of coin, draw: they that have little, stand by & give aim: they shuffle and cut on one side: the bones rattle on the other: long have they not played, but others fly up & down the room like haile-shot: if the poor dumb dice be but a little out of square, the pox & a thousand ●plagues break their necks out at window: presently after, the four knaves are sent packing the same way, or else (like heretics are) condemned to be burnt. In this battle of Cards and Dice, are several Regiments & several Officers. They that sit down to play, are at first called Leaders. They that lose, are the Forlorn Hope. He that wins all, is the Eagle. He that stands by & Uentures, is the Wod-pecker. The fresh Gallant that is fetched in is The Gull, H● that stands by, and lends, is the Gull-groper. The Gull-groper. THis Gul-groper is commonly an old Mony-monger, who having travailed through all the follies of the world in his youth, knows them well, and shuns them in his age, his whole felicity being to fill his bags with gold and silver: he comes to an Ordinary, to save charges of housekeeping, and will eat for his two shillings, more meat than will serve three of the guard at a dinner, yet swears he comes thither only for the company, and to converse with travailers. It's a Goldfinch that seldom flies to these Ordinary Nests, without a hundred or two hundred pound in twenty shilling pieces about him. After the tearing of some seven pair of Cards, or the damning of some ten bail of Dice, steps he upon the Stage, and this part he plays. If any of the Forlorn Hope be a Gentleman of Means, either in Esse, or in Posse▪ (and that the old Fox will be sure to know to half an Acre,) whose money runs at a low ebb, as may appear by his scratching of the head, and walking up and down the room, as if he wanted an Ostler: The Gull-groper takes him to a side window and tells him, he's sorry to see his hard luck, but the Dice are made of women's bones, and will cozen any man, yet for his father's sake (whom he hath known so long) if it please him, he shall not leave off play for a hundred pound or two. If my young Ostrich gape to swallow down this metal (& for the most part they are very greedy, having such provender set before them) then is the gold powered on the board, a Bond is made for repayment, at the next quarter day when Exhibition is sent in: and because it is all gold, and cost so much the changing, The Scrivener (who is a whelp of the old Mastiffs own breeding) knows what words will bite, which thus he fastens upon him, and in this Net the Gull is sure to be taken (howsoever:) for if he fall to play again, & loose, the hoary Goat-bearded Satire that stands at his elbow, laughs in his sleeve: if his bags be so recovered of their falling-sickness, that they be able presently to repay the borrowed gold, than Monsieur Gul-groper steals away of purpose to avoid the receipt of it; he hath fatter Chickens in hatching: 'tis a fairer mark he shoots at. For the day being come when the bond grows due, the within named signor Auaro will not be within: or if he be at home, he hath wedges enough in his pate, to cause the bond to be broken, or else a little before the day, he feedeth my young Master with such sweet words, that surfeiting upon his protestations, he neglects his payment, as presuming he may do more But the Law having a hand in the forfeiture of the bond, lays presently hold of our young Gallant with the help of a couple of sergeant, and just at such a time when old Erra Pater (the jew,) that lent him the money, knows by his own Prognostication, that the Moon with the silver face is with him in the wain. Nothing then can free him out of the fangs of those bloodhounds, but he must presently confess a judgement, for so much money, or for such a Manor or Lordship (three times worth the bond forfeited) to be paid or to be entered upon by him, by such a day or within so many months after he comes to his land. And thus are young heirs cozened of their Acres, before they well know where they lie. The woodpecker. THe woodpecker is a bird that sits by upon a perch too: but is nothing so dangerous, as this vulture spoken of before. He deals altogether upon Returns, (as men do that take three for one, at their coming back from jerusalem etc.) for having a jewel, a Clock, a King with a Diamond, or any such like commodity, he notes him well that commonly is best acquainted with the Dire, and hath ever good luck: to him he offers his prize, rating it at ten or fifteen pound, when happily 'tis not worth above six and for it he bargains to receive five shillings or ten shillings (according as it is in value) at every hand, second, third, or fourth hand he brawed: by which means be perhaps in a short time, makes that yield h●nforty or fifty pound, which cost not half twenty, Many of these Merchant ventures sail from Ordinary to Ordinary, being sure always to make saving voyages, when they that put in ten times more than they, are for the most part losers, The Gull. NOw if either The Leaders, or The Forlorn Hope, or any of the rest, three to hear of a young Freshwater soldier that never before followed these strange wars, and yet hath a Charge newly given him (by the old fellow Soldado Vecchio his father, when Death had shotit him into the Grave) of some ten or twelve thousand in ready money, beside so many hundreds a year: first are Scouts sent out to discover his Lodging, that known: some lie in ambush to note what Apothecaries shop he resorts too every morning, or in what Tobacco-shop in Fléet-street he takes a pipe of Smoke in the afternoon: that fort which the Puny holds, is sure to be beleaguered by the whole troup of the old weather beaten Gallants: amongst whom some one, whose 〈◊〉 thought to be of a better block for his head, than the rest, is appointed to single out our Novice, and after some faure or five days spent in Complement, our heir to seven hundred a year is drawn to an Ordinary, into which he no sooner enters, but all the old-ones in that Nest slutter about him, embrace, protest, kiss the hand, Congee to the very garter, and in the end (to show that he is no small fool, but that he knows his father left him not so much money for nothing,) the young Cub suffers himself to be drawn to the stake: to flesh him, Fortune and the Dice (or rather the False dice, that cousin Fortune, & make a fool of him too) shall so favour him, that he marches away from a battle or two, the only winner. But after wards, let him play how warily soever he can, the damned Dice shall cross him, & his silver crosses shall bless those that play against him: for even they that seem dearest to his bosom, shall first be ready, and be the foremost to enter with the other Leaders into conspiracy, how to make spoil of his golden bags. By such ransacking of citizens sons wealth, the Leaders maintain themselves brave, the Forlorne-hope, that drooped before, does now gallantly come on. The Eagle feathers his nest, the woodpecker picks up his crumbs, the Gul-groper grows fat with good feeding: and the Gull himself, at whom every one has a Pull, hath in the end scarce feathers enough to keep his own back warm. The Postmaster of Hell, seeing such villainies to go up and down in cloaks lined clean through with Velvet, was glad he had such news to send over, and therefore sealing up a letter full ot it, delivered the same to filthybearded Charon) their own Waterman) to be conveyed Portiteriba● horrendus aqua● & flumina servat, Terribilisqua● lore Charon, Cui plurima mente, Canitieses incultae jacet. first to the Porter of Hell, & then (by him) to the Master ●éeper of the Devils. Of Ferreting. The Man●f undoing Gentlemen by taking up of commodities. CHAP. FOUR HUnting is a noble, a manly, & a healthful exercise, it is a very true picture of war, nay it is a war in itself, for engines are brought into the field, stratagems are contrived, ambushes are laid, onsets are given, alarms struck up, brave encounters are made, fierce assailings are resisted by strength, by courage, or by policy: the enemy is pursued, and the Pursuers never give over till they have him in execution: then is a Retreat sounded, then are spoils divided, then come they home wearied, but yet crowned with honour & victory. And as in battles there be several manners of fight: so in the pastime of hunting, there are several degrees of game. Seem hunt the Lion, and that shows as when subjects rise in Hunting of the Lion etc. Arms against their King: Some hunt the Unicorn for the treasure on his head, and they are like covetous men, that care not whom they kill for riches: some hunt the Sp●tted Panther and the freckled Leopard, they are such as to enjoy their pleasures, regard not how black an infamy sticks upon them: All these are barbarous & unnatural Huntsmen, for they range up and down the Deserts, the Wilderness, and inhabitable Mountains. Others pursue the long lived Hart, the courageous Stag or the nimble footed Deer: these are the Noblest Hunting of the Buck. hunters, and they exercise the Noblest game: these by following the Chase get strength of body, a free and undisquieted mind, magnanimity of spirit, alacrity of heart and an unwearisomnesse to break through the hardest labours: their pleasures are not insatiable but are contented to be kept within limits, for these hunt within Parks enclosed, or within bounded Forests. The hunting of the Hare teaches fear to be bold, and puts simplicity so to her shifts, that she grows cunning Hunting of the Hare. and provident: the turnings and cress windings that she makes, are emblems of 〈◊〉 ●fes uncertainty: when she thinks she is furthest from danger, it is at he heels, and when it is nearest to her, the hand of safety defends her. When she is wearied and has run her race, she takes her death patiently, only to teach man, that he should make himself ready, when the grave gapes for him. All these kinds of hunting are abroad in the open De magno praeda petenda grege. field, but there is a close city hunting only within the walls, that pulls down Parks, lays open forests, destroys Chases, wounds the Dear of the land, and make such havoc of the goodliest Herds, that by their wills, (who are the rangers,) none should be left a live but the Rascals: This kinds of hunting is base, and ignoble, It is the meanest, yet the most mischievous, & it is called Ferreting. To behold acourse or two at this, did the light horseman of Hell one day leap into the saddle. Citty-Hunting. THis Ferret-hunting hath his Seasons as other What persons follow the game of Ferret hunting. games have, and is only followed at such a time of year, when the Gentry of our kingdom by riots, having chased themselves out of the fair revenues and large possession left to them by their ancestors, are forced to hide their heads like Coneys, in little caves and in unfrequented places: or else being almost windless, by running after sensual pleasures too fiercely, they are glad Dolour ac v●luptas invicem cedunt. (for keeping themselves in breath so long as a they can) to tall to Ferret-hunting, that is to say, to take up commodities. No warrant can be granted for a Buck in this forest, but it must pass under these five hands. 1 He that hunts up and down to find game, is called the Tombler. The tragedy of Ferret-hunting divided into 5 acts. 2 The commodities that are taken up are called Purse-nets. 3 The Citizen that sells them is the Ferret. 4 They that take up are the Rabbet-suckers. 5 He, upon whose credit these Rabbet-suckers run, is called the Warren. How the Warren is made. AFter a rain, Coneys use to come out of their Holes and to sit nibbling on weeds or any thing in the cool of the evening, and after a reveling when younger brothers have spent all, or in gaming have lost all, they sit plotting in their chambers with necessity how to be Nam illa omnes arts perde cet, ubi quem attigit. furnished presently with a new supply of money. They would take up any commodity whatsoever, but their names stand in too many texted letters all ready in Mercers and Scriveners books: upon a hundred pounds worth of Roasted bée●e they could find in their hearts to venture, for that would away in turning of a hand: but where shall they find a Butcher or a Cook that will let any man run so much upon the score for flesh only? Suppose therefore that Four of such loose fortuned gallants were tied in one knot, and knew not how to fasten themselves upon some wealthy citizen. At the length it runs into their heads, that such a young Novice (who daily serves to fill up their company) was never entangled in any city limebush: they know his present means to be good, and those to come to be great: him therefore they lay upon the Anvil of their wits, till they have wrought him like war, for him-selue as well as for them: to do any thing in war, or indeed till they have won him 〈◊〉 specta● 〈◊〉 laeso●; le●untur & ipsi to slide upon this ice, because he knows not the danger) is he easily drawn: for he considers within himself that they are all gentlemen well descended, they have rich fathers, they wear good clothes, have been gallant spenders, and do now and then (still) let it fly freely: he is to venture upon no more rocks than all they, what then should he fear? he therefore resolves to do it, and the rather because his own exhibition runs low, & that there lack a great many weeks to the quarter day, at which time, he shallbe refurnished from his father. The Match being thus agreed upon, one of them that has been an old Ferret-monger, & knows all the tricks of such Hunting, seeks out a Tumb●●hat ●hat is to say a fellow, who beats the bush for them till ●hey catch the birds, he himself being contented (as he protests & swears) only with a few feathers. The tumblers Hunting dryfoot. THis Tumbler being let loose runs Snuffing The nature of a London Tumbler. up and down close to the ground, in the shops either of Mercers, Gouldsmithes, Drapers, Haber-bashers, or of any other trade, where he thinks he may meet with a Ferret: and though upon his very first course, he can find his ga●e, yet to make his gallants more hungry, and to think he wearies himself in hunting the more, he comes to them sweeting and swearing that the City Ferrets are so coped (that's to say have their lips stitched up so close) that he can hardly get them open to so great a sum as sive hundred rounds which they desire. This heat be being chewed town N●l ●bet 〈◊〉 l●x 〈◊〉 du●ius 〈◊〉, Q●n ●d r● 〈◊〉 s●cit. by the Rabber-suckers almost his their hearts, and is worse to them then dabbing on the necks to Coneys. They bid him if he cannot fasten his teeth upon plate or Cloth, or Silks, to lay hold on brown paper or Tobacco, Bartholomew babies, Lute strings or Hobnails, or two hundred pounds in Saint Thomas Onions and the rest in money; the Onions they could get wenches enough to cry and sell them by the Rope, and what remains should serve them with mutton. Upon this, their Tumbler trots up and down again, and at last lighting on a Citizen that will deal, the names are received, and delivered to a Scrivener, who inquiring whether they be good men and true, that are to pass upon the life and death of five hundred pounds, finds that four of the five, are wind-shaken, and ready to fall into the lords hands, Marry the fifth man, is an Oak, and there's hope that he cannot be hewed down in haste. Upon him therefore the Citizen builds so much as comes to five hundred pounds, yet takes in the other four to make them serve as scaffolding, till the Farm be furnished, and if then it hold, he cares not greatly who takes them down. In all haste, are the bonds sealed, and the commodities delivered, And then does the Tumbler fetch his second career, and that's this. The Tumblers Hunting Counter. THe wares which they fished for being in the hand of the five shavers, do now more trouble their wits how to turn those Wares into ready money, than before they were troubled to turn their credits into wares. The Tree being once more to be shaken, they know it must lose fruit, and therefore their Factor must barter away theiMarchandise, though it be withlosse: Abroad is into the City he Sails for that purpose, and deals with him that sold, to buy his own Commodities again for ready money; He will not do it under 30. l. loss in the Hundred: Other Archers bows are tried at the same mark, but all keep much about one scantling: back therefore comes their Carrier with this news, that no man will disburse so much present money upon any wares whatsoever. Only he met by good fortune with one friend (and that friend is himself) who for 10 l. will procure them a Chapman, marry that chapman will not buy unless he may have them at 30. l. loss in the Hundred: fuh, try all the Sharers, a pox on these Fox-furred Curmudgeons, give that fellow your friend 10. l. for his pains, & fetch the rest of his money: within an hour after, it is brought, and poured down in one heap upon a tavern table; where making a goodly show as if it could never be spent, all of them consult what fee the Tumbler is to have for Hunting so well, and conclude that less than 10. l they cannot give him, which 10. l. is the first money told out Now let us cast up this Account: In every 100 l. is lost 30. which being 5. times 30. l. makes 150. l. that Dedit hanc c●ntagio laben, et Dabit in plures. Sum the Ferret puts up clear besides his over-prising the wares: unto which 100L. l lost, ad 10, l more which the Tumbler gulls them off, & other 10. l. which he hath for his voyage, all which makes 170. l. which deducted from 500 l. there remaineth only 330. to be divided amongst 5. so that every one of the partners shall have but 66. l. yet this they all put up merrily, washing down their losses with Sack and Sugar, whereof they drink that night profoundly. How the Warren is spoiled. WHilst this fair weather lasteth, and thate sthere is any grass to nibble upon. These Rabbee uckers keep to the Warren wherein they fattened. but th' cold day of repayment approaching, they retire deep into their Caves; so that when the Ferret makes account to have five before him in chase, four of the five lie hidden, & are stolen into other grounds. No marvel then if the Ferret grow fierce & tear open his owniawes, to suck blood from him that is left: no marvel if he seratch what wool he can from his back: the Pursnet's that were Set are all Taken up and carried away. The Warren therefore must be Searched, That must pay for all, over that does he range like a little ●ord. sergeant, Marshals-men, and Bailiffs are sent forth, who lie scouting at every corner, & with terrible paws haunt every walk. In conclusion the bird that these Hawks fly after, is seized upon, then are his feathers plucked, his estate looked into, them are his wings broken, his lā●s made over to a stranger: then must our young son and heir pay 500 l (for which he never had but 66. l.) or else lie in prison. To keep himself from which, he seals to any bond, enters into any statut, morgageth any Lordship, Does any thing, Says any thing, Infelix 〈◊〉 excidit ipse fuis. yields to pay any thing, And these City storms (which will wet a man till be have never a dry thread about him, though he be kept never so warm) fall not upon him once or twice: But being a little way in, he cares not how deep he wades: the greater his possessions are, the apt he is to Grandia permulto● te●antur Flumina rio●. take up & to be trusted: the more he is trusted, the more he comes in debt, the farther in debt, the nearer to danger. Thus Gentlemen are wrought upon, thus are they Cheated, thus are they Ferreted, thus are they Undone. Fawlconers. Of a new kind of Hawking, teaching how to catch birds by books. HVnting and Hawking are of kin, and therefore it is fit they should keep company together: Both of them are noble Games, and Recreations, honest and healthful, Hawking. yet they may so be abused that nothing can be more hurtful. In Hunting, the Game is commonly still before you, or ●'th hearing, and within a little compass: In Hawking the game flies far off, and oftentunes out of sight: A Couple of Rooks therefore (that were birds of Fancies non om● 〈◊〉, nec divers at a men the last feather) conspired together to leave their nest in the City, and to flutter abroad, into the country: Upon two lean hac●eies were these two Doctor doddipols horsed, Civilly suited, that they might carry about them some badge of a Scholar. The devils Ranck-ryder, that came from the last Citty-hunting, understanding that two such Light-horsemen, were gone a Hawking, posts after and over-takes them. After some ordinary highway talk, he begins to question of what profession they were? One of them smile scornfully in his face, as thinking him to be some Gull, (and ●indeed such fellows take all men for Gulls who they Qui nisi quod ipsifaciunt, nihil rectum putant. think to be beneath them in quality) told him they were Falconers. But the fox that followed them seeing no properties, (belonging to a Falconer) about them smelled knavery, took them for a pair of mad rascals, & therefore resolved to see at what these Falconers would let fly. How to cest up the Lure. AT last on a sudden says on of them to him, sir, we have Sprung a Partridge, and so fare you well▪ which words came stammering out with the haste that they The first Note made, for presently the two Foragers of the Country, were upon the Spur: Pluto's Post seeing this stood still to watch them, and at length saw them in main gallop make toward a goodly fair place, where either some Knight or some great Gentleman kept, and this goodly house belike was the Partridge which those falconers had sprung. He being loath to lose his share in this Hawking, and having power to transform himself as he listed, came thither as soon as they, but beheld all (which they did) invisible. They both like two Knights Errand alighted at the Gate, knocked and were let in: the one walks the Hackneys in an outward Court, as if he had been but Squire to Sir Dagonet. The other (as boldly as Saint George when he dared the dragon at his very Den) marcheth undauntedly up to the Hall, where looking over those poor creatures of the house, that wear but the bare Blue coats (for A quila non capit Muscas) what should a Falconer meddle with flies? he only salutes him that in his eye seems to be a Gentleman like fellow: Of him he asks for his good Knight or so, and says that he is a * Gentleman come Et qua non f● mus ipsi, vix e● nost●a voco: from London on a business, which he must deliver to his own Worshipful Eare. Up the stairs does brave Mount-Dragon ascend, the Knight and he encounter, and with this staff does he valiantly charge upon him. How the Bird is Caught. SIr I am a poor * Scholar, and the report of your virtues hath drawn me hither, venturously bold to fix your worthy name as a patronage to a poor short discourse Sen stos fuit il● le C●ucus Frange Puer Calamos et inanes ●esere Musas Quid nisi Monstra legis? which here I dedicate (out of my love) to your noble and eternal Memory: this speech he utters barely. The Hawking pamphleter is then bid to put on, whilst his Miscellane Maecenas; opens a book fairly aparreld in velum with gilt fillets & fore-penny silk ribbon at least, like little streamers on the top of a Marchpane Castle, hanging dandling by at the four corners, the title being superficially surveyed, in the next leaf he sees that the Author he, hath made him one of his Gossips for the book carries his worship's name, & under it stands an Epistle just the length of a Hench-mans' grace before dinner, which is long enough for any book in conscience, unless the writer be unreasonable. The knight being told before hand, that this little sunbeam of Phoebus (shining thus briskly in print) hath his Mite or At my waiting upon him in the outward court) thanks him for his love and labour, and considering with himself, what cost he hath been at, and how far he hath ridden to come to him, he knows that Patrons and Godfathers, are to pay scot and lot alike, and therefore to cherish his young and tender Muse, he gives him four or six Angels, inviting him either to stay breakfast, or if the sun-dial of the hou●e points towards eleven, then to tarry dinner. How the bird is dressed. BUt the fish being caught (for which our Heliconian Angler threw out his lines) with thanks, and legs and kissing his own hand, he parts. No sooner is he horsed, but his Ostler (who all this while walked the jades, and travails up & down with him (like an unde serving player for half a share) asks this question Straws or not? Straws cries the whole sharer and a half, away then ●ulius quoq▪ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. replies the first, fly to our nest: This nest is never in the same town but commonly a mile or two off and it is nothing else but the next Tavern they come to. But the village into which they road being not able to maintain an juybush, an Alehouse was their Inn: where advancing How birds are dressed after they be caught. themselves into the fairest Chamber, and beespeaking the best cheer in the town for dinner, down they sit, & share before they speak of any thing else: That done, he that ventures upon all he meets, and discharges the paper Bullets, (for to tell truth, the other serves but as a sign, and is merely nobody) begins to discourse, how he carried himself in the action, how he was encountered: how he stood to his tackling and how well he came off: he calls the Knight, a Noble fellow, yet they both shrug, and laugh, and swears they are glad they have Gulled him. More arrows must they shoot of the same length that this first was off, and therefore there is Trunk full of Trinkets, that's to say, their budget of Books, is opened again, to see what leaf they are to turn over next, which whilst they are doing, the Ghost that all this space haunted them and hard what they said, having excellent, skill in the blacke-art, that's to say in picking of locks, makes the door suddenly fly open (which they had closely shut. At his strange entrance they being somewhat aghast, began to shuffle away their books, but he knowing what cards they played withal, offered to cut, and turned up two Knaves by this trick. My masters (quoth he) I know where you have been, I know what you have done, I know what you mean to do, I see now you are Falconers indeed, but by the (and then he swore a damnable oath) unless you teach me to shoot in this Birding piece, I will raise the village, send for the knight whom you boast you have gulled, and so disgrace you: for your money I care not. The two Freebooters seeing themselves smoakd, told their third Brother, he seemed to be a gentleman and a boon companion, they prayed him therefore to sit down with silence, and since dinner was not yet ready, he should hear all. This new kind of Hawking (qd. one of them) which you see us use can afford no name vnles●, be at it. viz. 1. He that casts up the Lure is called the Falconer. 2 The Lure that is cast up is an idle Pamphlet. 3. The Tercel Gentle that comes to the Lure, is some knight or some gentle man of like quality. 4. The Bird that is preyed upon, is Money. 5. He that walks the horses, and hunts dry foot is called a Mongrel. The Falconer and his Spaniel. THe Falconer having scraped together certain small parings of wit, he first cuts them handsomely in pretty pieces, and of those pieces does he patch up a book. This book he prints at his own charge, the Mongrel running up ano down to look to the workmen, and béaring likewise some part of the cost, (for which he enters upon his half share) When it is fully finished, the Falconer and his Mongrel, or it may be two Falconers join in one,) but howsoever, it is by them devised what Shire in England it is best to forage next: that being set down, the Falconers deal either with a Herald for a note of all the Knights and gentlemen's names of worth that dwell in that circuit, which they mean to ride, or else by inquiry get the chiefest of them, printing of so many Epistles as they have names, the epistles Dedicatory being all one, and vary in nothing but in the titles of their patrons. Having thus furnished themselves and packed up their wa●es, away they trudge like tinkers, with a budget at strange hawking. one of their backs, or it may be the circle they mean to conjure in shall not be out of London, especially if it be Termtime, or when a Parliament is holden (for then they have choice of sweete-meats to feed upon. (If a gentleman seeing one of these books Dedicated only to his name, suspect it to be a bastard, that hath more fathers besides himself, and to try that, does defer the Presenter for a day or two, sending in the mean time (as some have done) into Paul's Churchyard amongst the stationer's, to inquire if any such work be come forth, & if they cannot tell, then to step to the Printers: Yet have the Falconers a trick to go beyond such Hawks too, for all they fly so high. And that is this: The books lie all at the Printers, but not one line of an epistle to any of them (those bugbears lurk in T●ebris) if then the Spy that is sent by his Master, ask why they have no dedications to them, monsieur Printer tells him, the author would not venture to add any to them all, (saving only to that which was given to his Master, until it was known whether he could accept of it or no. This satire's the Patron, this fetches money from him: and this Cousins five hundred besides. Nay there be other Bird catchers that use stranger Quail-pipes: you shall have fellows, four or fiveina country, that buying up any old Book (especially a Sermon, or any other matter of Divinity) that lies for wast-paper, and is clean forgotten, ad a new-printed Epistle to it, and with an Alphabet of letters which they carry about them, being able to print any man's names (for a Dedication) on the sudden, travail up and down most● Shires in England, and live by this Hawking. Are we not excellent Falconers now (quoth three half shares?) excellent v●laines cried the devils Deputy: by this the meat (for dinner came smoking in, upon which they f●ll most tyrannically, yet (for manners sake) offering first, to the Bali● of Belzebub the upper end of the table, but he fearing they would make a Hawk or a Buzzard of him too, and report they had ridden him like an Ass, as they had done others, out a doors he flung with a vengeance as he came. O sacred Learning▪ why dost thou suffer thy seven leaved tree, to be plucked by barbarous and most unhallowed hands? Why is thy beautiful Maiden-body, polluted like a strumpets, and prostituted to beastly and slavish C●rego si neq ignoreque Pot●a salutor Ignorance? O thou Base-broode, that make the Muse's harlots: yet say they are your Mothers? You thieves of Wit, Cheators of Art, traitors of schools of Learning: murderers of Scholars. More worthy you are, to undergo the Roman Furca like slaves, and to be brandedith forehead deeper than they that forge testaments to undo Orphans: Such do but rob children of goods that may be lost: but you rob Scholars of their Fame, which is dearer than life. You are not worth an invective, not worthy to have your names drop out of a deserving pen, you shall only be executed in Picture: (as they use to handle Malefactors in France) and the picture (though it were drawn to be hang up in another place) shall leave you impudently-arrogant to yourselves, and ignominiously-ridiculous to after ages: in these colours, are you drawn. The true picture of these Falconers. — There be Fellows 〈◊〉 superiquantum pectora cae● N●ctis Habē● Of course and common blood; Mechanic knaves, Whose wits lie deeper buried then in graves: And indeed smell more earthy, whose creation Was but to give a Boot or Shoe good fashion. Yet these (throwing by the Apron and the Awl) Being drunk with their own wit, cast up their gall ●cribimus 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉; Only ofyncke: and in patchd, beggarly Rhymes, (As full of fowl corruption, as the Times) From town to town they s●rowle in soul, as poor As theyare in clothes: yet these at every door, Their labours Dedicate. But (as at Fairs) Like Pedlars, they show still one sort of wares Unto all comers (with some filled oration) And thus to give books, now's an occupation. One book hath seven score patrons: thus desert ●serum est aliorum incumbere fa●mae Is cheated of her due: thus noble art Gives Ignorance (that common strumpet) place, Thus the true scholars name grows cheap & base, etc. jacks of the Clockhouse. A new and cunning drawing of money from Gentlemen. Chap. 6 THere is another Fraternity of wandering Pilgrims who merrily call themselves jacks of the Clockhouse, and are very near allied to the Falconers that went a Hawking before. The Clerk of Erebus set down their names too in his Tables, with certain brief notes of their practices: and these they are. The jack of a Clockhouse goes upon Screws, and his office is to do nothing but strike: so does this noise, (for they walk up and down like Fillers) travail with Motions, and whatsoever their Motions get them, is called striking. Those Motions are certain Collections, or witty Inventions, sometimes of one thing, and then of an other (there is a new one now in ●ime, in praise of the Union) And these are fairly written and engrossed in Uell●m, Parchemen, or Royal paper, richly adorned with compartments, and set out with letters both in gold and in vations colours. This labour being taken, the Master of the Motion hearkens where such a Nobleman, such a Lord, or such a Knight lies, that is liberal: having found one to his liking, The Motion (with his Patron's name fairly texted out, in manner of a Dedication,) is presented before him: he receives it, and thinking it to be a work only undertaken for his sake, is bounteous to the giver, esteeming him a Scholar, and knowing that not without great travail, he hath drawn so many little ●gling streams into so fair and smooth a River: whereas the Work is the labour of some other (copied out by stealth) be an impudent ignorant fellow, that runs up and down with the Transcripts, and every Alehouse may have one of them (hanging in the basest drinking room) if they will be but at the charges of writing it out. Thus the liberality of a Nobleman, or of a Gentleman is abused: thus learning is brought into scorn and contempt: Thus men are cheated of their bounty, giving much for that (out of their free minds) which is common abroad, and put away for base prices. Thus villainy sometimes walks alone, as if it were given to Melancholy, and sometimes knaves tie themselves in a knot, because they may be more merry, as by a mad sort of Comrades whom I see leaping into the Saddle, anon it will appear. Rank Riders, The manner of Cozening Innkeepers. Post-maisters and Hackney men. Chap. 7. THere is a troup of Horsemen, that run up and down the whole kingdom, they are ever in a gallop, their business is weighty, their journeys many, their expenses great, their Inns rusty where, their lands no where: they have only a certain Fr●e-holde called Tyburn (situate near London, and many a fair pair of Gallows in other Countries beside,) upon which they li●e very poorly fill they die, and die for the most part wickedly, because their lives are villainous and desperate. But what ●ce so ever they run, there they end it there they set up their rest, there is their last baste, whether soever their ●ourney lies. And these horsemen have no other names but rank Riders. To furnish whom forth for any journey, they must have Kiding suits cut out of these four pieces. 1 The Inne-kéeper or Hackneyman, of whom they have horses, is called A Colt. 2 He that never alights off a rich Farmer or country Gentleman, till he have drawn money from him, is called The Snaffle. 3 The money so gotten, is The Ring 4 He that feeds them with money is called The provender. These Ranck-riders (like Butchers to Rumford market) seldom go under sire or seven in a company, and these Careeres they fetch. Their purses being warmly lined with some purchase gotten before, and they themselves well booted and spurred, and in reasonable good outsides, arrive at the fairest Inn they can choose, either in Westminster, the Strand, the City, or the Suburbs. Two of them who have clothes of purpose to fit the play, carrying the show of Gentlemen: the other a● their parts in blue coats, as they were their Servingmen, though indeed they be all fellows. They enter all dirted The manner of Bridling a colt. or dustied (according as it shall please the high way to use them) and the first bridle they put into the Colt's mouth (that's to say the innkeepers) is at their coming in to asks aloud if the footman begun back with the horses? 'tis answered yes, here, the Ranck-riders lie three or four days, spending moderately enough, yet aabating not a penny of any reckoning to show of what house they came: in with space their counterfeit followers learn what countryman the master of the house is, where the Hostlars and Chamberlains were borne, and what other country Gentlemen are guests to the Inn? which lessons being presently gotten by heart, they fall in study with the General rules of their knavery: and those are, first to give out, that their Master is a Gentleman of such and such means, in such a shire (which shall be sure to stand far enough from those places where any of the house, or of other guests were borne,) that he is come to receive so many hundred pounds upon land which he hath sold, and that he means to Inn there some quarter of a year at least. This Brass money passing for currant through the house, he is more observed and better attended, is worshipped at every word: and the easier to break and bridle the Colt, his Worship will not sit down to Dinner or supper, till the Master of the house be placed at the upper end of the board by him. In the middle of Supper, or else very early in the following morning, comes in a counterfeit footman, sweatingly, delivering a message that such a Knight hath sent for the head-Maister of these Rancke-ryders, and that he must be with him by such an hour, the journey being not above twelve or fourteen miles. Upon delivery of this message: (from so dear and noble a friend) he swears and chafes, because all his horses are out of Town, curseth the sending of them back, offers any money to have himself, his cousin with him, and his men but reasonably horsed. Mine host being a credulous Ass, suffers them all to get up upon him, for he provides them horses either of his own (thinking his Guest to be a man of great account; and being loath to lose him, because he spends well) or else sends out to hire them of his neighbours, passing his word for their forthcoming with in a day or two, Up they get and away Gallopour Ranck-riders, as far as the poor jades can carry them. The two days being ambled out of the world, and perhaps three more after them, yet neither a supply of Horsemen or Footmen, (as was promised) to be set eye upon. The lamentable Innkeeper (or Hackney man, if he chance to be Saddled for this journey too) lose their Colt's teeth, and find that they are made old arrant jades: Search, then runs up and down like a Constable half out of his wits (upon a Shrove-tuesday) and hue and cry follows after, some twelve or fourteen miles off, (round about London) which was the farthest of their journey as they gave out. But (alas!) the horses are at pasture four score or a hundred miles from their old mangers: they were sold at some blind drunken thievish fair, (there being enough of them in company to save themselves, by their Toll-booke,) the serving-men cast off their blue-coats, and cried All fellows: the money is spent upon wine, upon whores, upon fiddlers, upon fools (by whom they will lose nothing) and the tide being at an ebb, they are as ready to practise their skill in horse-manship to bring Colts to the saddle in that Town, and to make Nags run a race of threescore or a hundred miles of from that place, as before they did from London. Running at the Ring. THus, solong as Horseflesh can make them fat, they never leave feeding. But when they have beaten so many highways in several countries, that they fear to be overtaken by Tracers, than (like Soldiers coming from a Breach) they march fair & softly on foot, lying in garrison as it were, close in some out towns, till the foul Rumour of their Uillanies (like a stormy dirty winter) be blown over: In which time of lurking in the shell, they are not idle neither, but like snails they venture abroad though the law hath threatened to rain down never so much puuish●t upon them: and what do they? they are not bees, to live by their own painful labours, but Drones that must eat up the sweetness, and be fed with the earnings of others: This therefore is their work. They carelessly inquire what gentleman of worth, or what rich Farmers dwell within five, six or seven miles of the Fort where they are 〈◊〉 (which they may do without suspicion) and having go●te their names, they single out themselves in a morning, and each man takes a several path to himself: one goes East, one West, one North, and the other South: walking either in boots with wands in their hands, or otherwise, for it is all to one purpose. And note this by the way, that when they travel thus on foot, they are no more called Ranck-riders but Strowlers, a proper name given to Country players, that (without Socks) trot from town to town upon the hard hoof. Being arrived at the Gate where the Gentleman or Farmer dwelleth, he boldly knock, enquiring for him by name, and steps in to speak with him: the servant seeing a fashionable person, tells his Master there is a Gentleman desires to speak with him: the master come and salutes him, but eyeing him well, says he does not know him: No Sir, replies the other (with a face bold enough) it may be so, but I pray you Sir, will you walk aturne or two in your Orchard or Garden, I would there confer: Having got him thither, to this tune he plays upon him. How the snaffle is put on SIr, I am a Gentleman, borne to better means than my present fortunes do allow me: I served in the field, and had command there, But long peace (you know Sir) is the canker that eats up Sould●ers, and so it hath me. I lie here not far off, in the Country at mine Inn●, where staying upon the dispatch of some business, I am indebted to the house in m●neys, so that I cannot with the credit of a Gentleman leave toe house till I have paid them. Make me sir so much beholden to your love as to lend me forty or fifty shilliings to bear my horse and myself to London, from whence within a day or two, I shall send you many thanks with a faithful repayment of your courtesy. The honest Gentleman, or the good natured Farmer beholding a personable man, fashionably attited, and not carrying in outward colours, the face of a cogging knave gives credit to his words, are forty that they are not at this present time so well furnished as they could wish, but if a matter of twenty shillings can stead him, he shall command it, because it were pity any honest Gentleman should for so small a matter mistarry. Happily they meet with some Chapmen that give them their own ask; but howsoever, all is fish that comes to net, they are the most conscionable market folks that ever road between two paniers, for from forty they will fall to twenty, from twenty to ten, from ten to five: nay these mountibanckes are so base, that they are not ashamed to take two shillings of a plain husbandman, and sometimes six pence (which the other gives simply and honestly) of whom they demanded a whole fifteen. In this mann●r do they dig silver out of men's purses, all the day, and at night meet together at the appointed Rendezvouz, where all these Snaffles are loosed to their full length, the Rings which that day they have made are worn. The Provender is praised or dispraised, as they find it in goodness, but it goes down all, whilst they laugh at all. And thus does a Commonwealth bring up children, that care not how they discredit her, or undo her: who would imagine that Birds so fair in show, and so sweet in voice, should be so dangerous in condition? but Ra●ens think carrion the daintiest meat, and villains esteem most of that money which is purchased by baseness. The Under sheriff for the county of the Cacodemons', knowing into what arrearages these Rank-tiders were run for horseflesh to his master, (of whom he farmed the office) sent out his writs to attach them, and so narrowly pursued them, that for all they were well horsed, some he sent post to the gallows, and the rest to several jails: After which, making all the hast he posibly could to get to London again, he was waylaid by an army of a strange & new found people. Moon men. A discovery of a strange wild people, very dangerous to towns and country villages. CHAP. VIII. A Moone-man signifies in English, a madman, because the Moon hath greatest domination (above any other Planet) over the bodies of Frantic persons. But these Moone-men (whose Images are now to be carved) are neither absolutely mad, not yet perfectly in their wits) Their name they borrow from the Moon, because as the Moon is never in one shape two nights together, but wanders up & down Heaven, like an Antic, so these changeable-stuffe-companions never tarry one day in a place, but are the only, and the only base Ronnagats upon earth. And as in the Moon there is a man, that never stirs without a bush of thorns at his back, so these Moone-men lie under bushes, & are indeed no better than Hedge creepers. They are a people more scattered than Iewes, and more hated: beggarly in apparel, barbarous in condition, beastly in behaviour: and bloody if they meet advantage. A man that sees them would swear they ha● all the yellow jawndis, or that they were Tawny moors What a moon man is, bastards, for no Red-oaker man carries a face of a more filthy complexion, yet are they not borne so, neither has the Sun burned them so, but they are painted so, yet they are not good painters neither: for they do not make faces, but mar faces. By a by name they are called Gipsies, they call themselves Egyptians, others in mockery call them Moone-men. If they be Egyptians, sure I am they never descended from the tribes of any of those people that came out of the Land of Egypt: Ptolemy (King of the Egyptians) I warrant never called them his Subjects: no nor Pharaoh before him. Look what difference there is between a civil citizen of Dublin & a wild Irish Kern, so much difference there is between one of these counterfeit Egyptians and a true English Beggar. An English Rogue is just of the same livery. They are commonly an army about fourscore cong, yet they never march with all their bags and His order in marching on foot or serving open horse. baggages together, but (like boot-halers) they forage up and down countries, 4. 5. 026. in a company. As the swizer has his wench and his Cock with him when he goes to the wars, so these vagabonds have their harlots with a number of little children following at their heels: which young brood of Beggars, are sometimes carried (like so many green geese alive to a market) in pairs of panieres, or in dossers like fresh-fish from Rye the comes on horseback, (if they be but infants.) But if they can straddle once, then aswell the shee-roagues as the hee-roagues are horsed, seven or eight upon one jade, strongly pineond, and strangely tied together. One Shire alone & no more is sure still at one time, to have these Egyptian lice swarming within it, for like flocks of wild-géeses, they will evermore fly one after another: let them be scattered worse than the quarters of a traitor are after he's hanged drawn and quartered, yet they have a trick (like water cut with a sword) to come together instantly and easily again: and this is their policy, which way soever theformost● anckes lead, they stick up small boughs in several places, to every village where they pass, which serve as ensigns to waft on the rest. Their apparel is odd, and fantastic, though it be never so full of rents: the men wear scarves of calico, or any other base stuff, hanging their bodies like Morris-dancers, His Furniture with bells, & other toys, to entice the country people to flock about them, and to wonder at their fooleries or rather rank knaveries. The women as ridiculously attire themselves, and (like one that plays, the Rogue on a Stage) wear rags, and patched filthy mantles upermost, when the under garments are handsome and in fashion. The battles these Outlaws make, are many and His manner of night. very bloody. Whosoever falls into their hands never escapes alive, & so cruel they are in these murders, that nothing can satisfy them but the very heart blood of those whom they kill. And who are they (think you) that thus go to the pot? Alas! Innocent Lambs, Sheep, Calves, Pigs, etc. Poultrie-ware are more churlishly handled by them, than poor prisoners are by keepers in the counter it'h Poultry. A goose coming amongst them learns to be wise, that he never will be Goose any more. The bloody tragedies of all these, are only acted by the Women, who carrying long knives or Skeanes under their mantles, do thus play their parts: The Stage is some large Heath: or a Fir bush Common, far from any houses: Upon which casting themselves into a King, they enclose the Murdered, till the Massacre be finished. If any passenger come by, and wondering to see such a conjuring circle kept by Hellhounds, demand what spirits they raise there? one of the Murderers steps to him, poisons him 〈◊〉 sweet words and shifts him off, with this lie, the one of the womés is fallen in labour. But if any mad H●let hearing this, smell villainy, & rush in by violence to see what the tawny Devils are doing: them they excuse the fact, lay the blame on those that are the Actors, & perhaps (if they see no reme●e) deliver them to an officer, to be had to punishment: But by the way a rescue is utely laid and very valiantly (though very villainously) do they fetch them off, a guard them. The cabins where these Land-pyrates lodge in the night, are the Out-ba●es of Farmers & Husbandmen, (in some poor village or other) who dare not deny them, for fear they should ere morning have their thatched houses burning about their ears: inthese Ba●nes, are both their Cooke-roomes, their Supping Poors and their Bedchambers: for there they dress after a beastly manner: what soever they purchased after a théeu●h fashion: sometimes they eat venison, & have Grey hounds that kill it for them, but if they had not, they are Hounds themselves & are damnable Hunters after flesh: Which appears by their vgly-faced queans that follow them: with whom in these barns they lie, as Swine do together in Hogsties. These Barns are the beds of Incests, Whoredoms Adulteries, & of all other black and deadly-damned Impi●ies; His qualities w●st he lies entrenched. here grows the Cursed Tree of Bastardy, that is so fruitful: here are written the Books of all Blasphemies, Swear & Curses, that are so dreadful to be read. Yet the simple country people will come running out of their houses to gaze upon them whilst in the mean time one steals into the next Room, and brings away whatsoever he can lay hold on. Upon days of pastime & liberty, they Spread themselves in small companies amongst What pieces of desperate service he ventures upon the villages: and when young maids & bachelors (yea sometimes old doting fools, that should be beaten to this world of villainies, & forewarn others) do flock about them, they then profess skill in Palmistry, & (forsooth) can tell fortunes which for the most part are infallibly true, by reason that they work upon rules, which are grounded upon certainty: for one of them will tell you that you shall shortly have some evil luck fall upon you, & within half an hour after you shall find your pocket picked, or your purse cut. These are those Egyptian Grasshoppers that eat up the fruits of the Earth, and destroy the poor corn fields: to sweep whose swarms out of this kingdom, there are no other means but the sharpness of the most infamous & basest kinds of punishment. For if the ugly body of this Monster be suffered to grow & fatten itself with mischiefs and disorder, it will have a neck so Sine ●y & so brawny, that the arm of the law will have much ado to strike of the Head, sithence every day the members of it increase & it gathers new joints & new forces by Priggers, Anglers, Cheators, Morts, yeomen's Daughters (that have taken some by blows, & to avoid shame, fall into their Sins: and other Servants both men & maids that have been pil●erers, with all the rest of that Damned Regiment, marching together in the first Army of the Bellman, who running away from their own Colours (with are bad enough) serve under these, being the worst. Lucifer's Lansprizado that stood aloof to behold the mustrings of these Hellhounds took delight to see them Double their Files so nimbly, but held it no policy to come near them (for the Devil himself durst scarce have done that.) Away therefore he gallops, knowing that at one time or other they would all come to fetch their pay in Hell. The infection Of the Suburbs. Chap. IX. THe Infernal Promoter being wearied with riding up & down the Country, was glad when he had gotten the City over his head, but the City being not able to hold him within the freedom, because he was a Foreigner, the gates were set wide open for him to pass through, & into the Suburbs he went. And what saw he there? More Alehouses than there are avernes in all Spain & Fran●e Are they so dry in the Suburbs? Yes, pockily dry. What saw he beside? He saw the doors of notorious Carted Bawds, (like Hell gates) stand night and day wide open, with a pair of Harlots in Taffeta gowns (like two painted posts) Noctes atque a●e patet l●● Dills. garnishing out those doors, being better to the house then a Double sign: when the door of a poor Artificer (if his child had died but 〈◊〉 one Token of death about him) was close rammed up and Guarded for sear others should have been infected: Yet the plague that a whorehouse lays upon a City is worse, yet is laughed at ●f not laughed at, yet not looked into, or if looked into, Winked at. The Tradesman having his house locked up, looseth his customers, is put from work and undone: whilst in the mean time the strumpet is set on work and maintained (perhaps) by those that undee the other: give thanks O wide mouthed Hell! laugh Lucifer at this Dance for joy all you Devils. Belz. b●b keeps the Register book, of all the Bawds, Panders & Courtesans: & he knows, that these Subutb sinners have nolandes to live upon but their legs: every apprentice passing by them, can say, There sits a whore: Without putting them to their book, they will swear so much themselves: if so, are not Counstables, Churchwardens, Bailiffs, Beadels & other Officers, Pillars and Pillows to all the villainies, that are by these committed? Are they not parcell-Bawdes to wink at such damned abuses, considering they have whips in their own hands, and may draw blood if they please? Is not the Landlord of such rents the Graund-Bawde? ●f the Door Keeping mistress of such a house of sin, but his Under-Bawd? sithence he takes twenty pounds' 〈◊〉 every year●, for a vaulting school (which from no Artificer living by the hardness of the hand could be worth five pound.) And that twenty pound rend, he knows must be priest out of petticoats:) his money smells of sin: the very silver looks pale, because it was earned by lust. How happy therefore were Cities if they had no Suburbs, sithence they serve but as caves, where monsters are bred up to devour the Cities themselves? Would the Devil hire a villain to spill blood? there he shall find him. One to blaspheme? there he hath choice. A Pander that would court a matron at her prayers? he's there. A cheater that would turn his own father a begging? he's there too: A harlot that would murder her new-born Infant? She lies in there. What a wretched womb hath a strumpet, which being (for the most part) barren of Children, is notwithstanding the only Bed that breeds up these serpents? upon that one stalk grow all these mischiefs. She is the Cockatrice that hatcheth all these eggs of evils. When the Devil takes the Anatomy of all damnable sins, he looks only upon her body. When she dies, he sits as her Coroner. When her soul comes to hell, all shun that there, as they fly from a body struck with the plague here. She hath her dore-kéeper, and she herself is the devils chambermaid. And yet for all this, that she's so dangerous and detestable, when she hath croaked like a Raven on the eves, then comes she into the house like a Dove. When her villainies (like the mote about a castle) are rank, thick, and muddy, with standing long together, then (to purge herself) is she dreind out of the Suburbs (as though her corruption were there left behind her (and) a● a clear stream) is let into the City. What armour a harlot wears coming out of the Suburbs to besiege the City within the walls. Upon what perch then does she sit? what part plays the then? only the Puritan. If before she ruffled in silks, now is she more civilly attired then a Midwife. I● before she swaggred in Taverns, now with the Snail she stirrethnot out of doors. And where must her lodging be taken up, but in the house of some citte, whose known reputation, she borrows (or rather steals) putting it on as a cloak to cover her deformities. Yet even in that, hath she an art too, for he shallbe of such a profession, that all comers may enter, without the danger of any eyes to watch them. As for example she will lie in some scriveners house, & so under the colour of coming to have a Bond made, she herself may write Nove in't universi. And the the law threaten to hit her never so often, yet hath she subtle defences to ward off the blows. For, if Gallants haunt the house, then spreads she these colours: she is a captain or a lieutenant's wife in the Low-countrieses, & they come with letters, from the soldier her husband. If merchants resort to her, then hoistes she up these sails, she is wife to the Master of a ship, & they bring news that her husband put in at the straits, or at Venice, at Aleppo, Alexandria, or scandaroon, etc. if shop keepers come to her, with what do you lack in their mouths, them she takes up such & such commodities, to send them to Rye, to Bristol, to York, etc. where her husband dwells. But if the stream of her fortunes run low, and that none but Apronmen launch forth there, then keeps she a politic tempsters, shop, or she starches them. Perhaps she is so politic, that none shallbe noted to How a city punk Rangeth. board her: if so, than she sails upon these points of the compass: so soon as ever she is rig'd, and all her furniture on, forth she lancheth into those streets that are most frequented: where the first man that she meets of her acquaintance, shall (without much pulling) get her into a Tavern: out of him she kisses a breakfast & then leaves him: the next she meets, does upon as easy pulleys, draw her to a Tavern again, out of him she cogs a dinner, & then leaves him: the third man, squires her to a play, with being ended, & the wine offered & taken (for she's no Recusant, to refuse any thing) him she leaves too: and being set upon by a fourth, him she answers at his own weapon, sups with him, & drink Upsy Frieze, till the clock striking Twelve, and the Drawers being drowsy, away they march arm in arm, being at every foot-step fearful to be set upon by the Band of Halberdiers, that lie scouting in rug gowns to cut of such midnight stragglers. But the word being given, & who goes there, with come before the Constable, being shot at them, they vail presently & come, she taking upon her to answer all the Billmen and their Leader, Between whom & her, suppose you hear this sleepy Dialogue. where have you been so late? at supper forsooth with my uncle here (if he be well bearded) or with my brother (if the hair be but budding forth) and he is bringing me home. Are you married? yes forsooth: what's your husband? such a Nobleman's man, or such a justices clerk, (And then names some Alderman of London, to whom she persuades herself, one or other of the bench of brown bills are beholding) where lie you? At such a man's house: Sic tenues evanescit in Auras: and thus by stopping the Constables muoth with sugar-plummes (that's to say,) whilst she poisons him with sweet words, the punk vanisheth. O Lantern and candlelight, how art thou made a blind Ass? because thou hast but one eye to see withal: Be not so gulled, be not so dull in understanding: do thou but follow aloof, those two tame Pigeons, & thou shalt find, that her new Uncle lies by it all that night, to make his kinswoman on of mine Aunts: or if she be not in travel all night, they spend some half an hour together, but what do they? marry, they do that, which the Constable should have done for them both in the streets that's to say commit, commit, You Guardians over so great a Princess as the eldest daughter of King Brutus: you twice twelve fathers and governors over the Noblest City, why are you so careful to plant Trees to beautify your outward walks, yet suffer the goodliest garden (within) to be overrun with stinking weeds? You are the proining knives that should lop off such idle, such unprofitable and such destroying branches from the vine: The beams of your Authority should purge the air of such infection: your breath of justice should scatter those foggy vapours, and drive them out of your gates as cha●e tossed abroad by the winds. But stay: is our walking spirit become an Orator to persuade? no: but the Bell man of London with whom he met in this perambulation of his▪ and to whom he betrayed himself & opened his very bosom, (As hereafter you shall hear,) is bold to take upon him that speakers Office. Of Ginglers. Or the knavery of Horse-Coursers in Smithfield discovered. CHAP. X. AT the end of fierce battles, the only Rendezvouz for lame soldiers to retire unto, is an Hospital: and at the end of a long Progress, the only ground for a tired Ia●e to run in, is some blind country fair, where he may be sure to be sold, To these Markets of unwholesome Horseflesh, (like so many Rites to feed upon Carrion) do● all the Horse-coursers (that roost about the City) fly one after another. And whereas in buying all other commodities, men strive to have the best, how great so ever the price be, only the Horse-courser is of a base mind, for the worst horseflesh (so it be cheap) does best go down with him. He cares for nothing but a fair outside, and a handsome shape (like those that hire whores, (though there be a hundred diseases within: he (as the other) ventures upon them all. The first lesson therefore that a Horse-courser takes out, when he comes to one of these Markets, is to make choice of such Nags, Geldings, or Mares, especially, as are fat, fair, and well-favoured to the eye: and because men delight to behold beautiful colours, and that some colours are more delicate (even in beasts) then others are, he will so near as he can, bargain for those horses that have the daintiest complexion: as the Milk-white, the Grey, the Dapple-Gray, the Coal black with his proper marks (as t●e white star in the forehead, the white heel, etc.) or the bright Bay, with the like proper marks also. And the goodlier proportion the beast carries or the fairer marks or colour that he bears, are or aught to be watchwords as it were to him that afterwards buys him of the horse-courser, that he be not cozened with an over-price for a bad pennyworth, because such Horses (belonging for the most part to Gentlemen) are seldom or never sold away, but upon some fowl quallty, or some incurable disease, which the Beast is fallen into. The Best colours are therefore the best Cloaks to hide those faults that most disfigure a Horse: and next unto colour, his Pace doth oftentimes deceive and go beyond a very quick judgement. Some of these Horse-hunters, are as nimble Knaves in finding out the infirmities of a jade, as a Barber is in drawing of teeth: and albeit (without casting his water) he does more readily reckon up all the Aches, Cramps, Crickes, and whatsoever disease else lies in his bones: and for those diseases seems utterly to dislike him, yet if by looking upon the Dial within his mouth, he find that his years have struck but five, six, or seven: and that he proves but young, or that his diseases are but newly growing upon him, if they be outward, or have but hair and skin to hide them, if they be inward, let him swear never so damnably, that it is but a jade, yet he will be sure to fasten upon him. So then, a Horse-courser to the Merchant, (that out of his sound judgement buys the fairest, the best-bred, and the noblest Horses, selling them again for breed or service, with plainness and honesty.) is as the Cheater to the fair Gamester: he is indeed a mere jadish Nonopolitane, and deals for none but tired, taited, dull and diseased horses. By which means, if his picture The picture of a Horse-courser. be drawn to the l●●e, you shall find every Horse-courser for the most part to be in quality a coozener, by profession a knave, by his running a varlet, in fairs a Hagling Chapman, in the City a Cogging dissembler, and in Smithfield a common forsworn Villain. He will swear any thing, but the faster he swears, the more danger 'tis to believe him: In one forenoon, and in selling a jade not worth five Nobles, will he forswear himself fifteen times, and that forswearing too shall be by Equivocation. As for example, if an ignorant Chapman coming to beat the price, say to the Horse-courser your nag is very old or thus many years old, and reckon ten or twelve; he claps his hand presently on the buttock of the beast, and prays he may be damned if the Horse be not under five, meaning that the horse is not under five years of age, but that he stands under five of his fingers, when his hand is clapped upon him. These Horse-coursers are called jynglers, and these jynglers having laid out their money on a company of jades at some drunken fair, up to London they drive them, and upon the Market day into Smithfield bravely come they prancing. But lest their jades should show too many horse tricks in Smithfield, before so great an Audience as commonly resort thither, their masters do therefore School them at home after this manner. How a Horse-courser works upon a jade in his own Stable, to make him serviceable for a cozening Race in Smithfield. THe Glanders in a horse is so filthy a disease, that he who is troubled with it can never keep his nose clean: so that when such a foule-nosed jade happens How a Horse-courser may cousin his chapman with a horse that hath the Glanders. to serve a Horse-courser, he hath more strange pills (than a Pothecary makes) for the purging of his head, he knows that a horse with such a quality, is but a beastly companion to travel upon the high way with any Gentleman. Albeit therefore that the Glanders have played with his Nose so long, that he knows not how to mend himself, but that the disease being suffered to run upon him many years together, is grown invincible, yet hath our jingling Mountebank Smithfield rider a trick to cure him, five or six ways and this isone of them. In the very morning when he is to be rifled away amongst the Gamesters in Smithfield, before he thrust his head out of his masters Stable, the Horse-courser tickles his nose (not with a Pipe of Tobacco) but with a good quantity of the best Sneezing powder that can be gotten: which with a quill being blown up into the Nostrils, to make it work the better, he stands peaking there up and down with two long feathers plucked from the wing of a Goose, they being dipped in the juice of Garlic, or in any strong oil, and thrust up to the very top of his head, so far as possibly they can reach, to make the poor dumb beast avoid the filth from his nostrils, which he will do in great abundance: this being done, he comes to him with a new medicine for a sick horse, and mingling the juice of Bruised Garlic, sharp biting Mustard, and strong Ale together, into both the Nostrils (with a Horn) is powered a good quantity of this filthy Broth, which by the hand being held in by stopping the nostrils close together, at length with a little neezing more, his nose will be cleaner than his Masters the Horse-courser, and the filth be so Artificially stopped that for eight or ten hours a jade will hold up his head with the proudest Gelding that gallops scornfully by him, and never have need of wiping. This is one of the Comedies a Common horse-courser plays by himself at home, but if when he comes to act the second part abroad, you would disgrace him, and have him hissd at for net playing the Knave well, then handle him thus: If you suspect that the Nag which he would jade you with, be troubled with that or any other such like disease, gripe him hard about the weasand pipe, close toward ther●ofe of the tongue, and holding him there so long and so for●bly, that he cough twice or thrice, it then (after you let go your hold) his chaps begin to walk as if he were chewing down a Horse-loaf, shake hands with old monsieur Cauiliero Hors-Courser, but c●ap no bargain upon ●t, for his jade is as full of infirmity, as the master f Uillan●e. Other Gambols that Horse-coursers practise upon Fowndred Horses, old jades, etc. Smithfield is the Stage upon which the Mountibank English Horse-courser advancing his banner, deffes any disease that dares touch his Prancer: Insomuch that if a horse be so old, as that four legs can but carry him, yet shall he bear the marks of an Nag not above six or seven pears of age: & that counterfeit badge of youth, he wears thus: The Horse-courser with a small round iron made very hot, burns two black holes in the top of the two out-most teeth of each side the outside of the Horse's mouth upon the neither teeth, & so likewise of the teeth of the upper chap, which stand opposite to the neither, the quality of which marks is to show that a horse is but young: but if the jade be so old that those teeth are dropped out of his head, then is there a trick still to be fumbling about his old chaps, & in that stroking his chin, to prick his lips closely with a pin or a nail, till they be so tender, that albeit be were a given horse none could be suffered to look him in the mouth (which is one of the best Calendars to tell his age) but a reasonable sighted eye (without help of spectacles) may easily discover this juggling, because it is gross and common. If now a Horse (having been asore Travaller) hap by falling into a cold sweat to be Foundered, so that (as if he were drunk or had the staggers) Bee can scarce stand on his legs, then will his master, before he enter into the lists of the field against all comers, put him into a villainous chase by riding him up and down a quarter or half an hour, till his limbs be thoroughly heated, and this he does, because so long as he can discharge that false fire, or that (beingso collerickly hot) he tramples only upon soft ground, a very cunning Horseman shall hardly find where his shoe wrings him, or that he is Fowndred. And (to blind the eyes of the Chapman) the Horse-courser will be ever tickling of him with his wand, because he may not by standing still like an Ass, show of what house he comes. It a Horse come into the field (like a lame soldier) Halting, he has not Crutches made for him, as the soldier hath, but because you shall think the Horse's shoemaker hath served him like a jade, by not fitting his foot well, the shoe shall be taken off purposely from that foot which halts, as though it had been lost by chance: And to prove this, witnesses shall come in, if at least twenty or thirty damnable oaths can be taken, that the want of the Shoe is only the cause of his Halting. But if a Horse cannot be lusty at legs: by reason that either his hooves be not good, or that there be Splents, or any other Eyesore about the neither joint, the Hors-courser uses him then as Cheating Swaggerers handle Novices: what they cannot win by the Dice, they will have by Fowl play: & in that foul manner, deals he with the poor horse, riding him, up and down in the thickest & the durtiest places, till that dirt, like a ruffled boot drawn upon an ill-favoured gouty leg, cover the jades infirmity from the eyes of the Buyer. How a Horse-courser makes a lade that has no stomach, to eat Lamb-pye. ALbeit Lambpie be good meat upon a table, yet it is so offensive to a horses stomach, that he had rather besed a month together with musty oats, than to taste it; Yet are not all Horses●iddē ●idden to his Lamb-pye-Breakefasts but only such as ate dieted with no other meat: and those are Dull, Blockish, Sullen, and heavy footed jades. When-soever therefore a Horse-courser hath such a Dead commodity, as a Lumpish slow jade, that goes more heavily than a Cow when she trots, and that neither by a sharp bit nor a tickling spur he can put him out of his lazy and dogged pace, what does he with him then? Duly he gives him Lambpie. That is to say, every morning when the Horse-courser comes into the Stable, he takes up a tough round cudgel, and never leaves fencing with his Quarter staff at the poor Horses sides and buttocks, till with blows he hath made them so tender, that the very shaking of a bough will be able to make the horse ready to run out of his wits, And to keep the horse still in this mad mood, because he shall not forget his lesson, his master will never come near him, but he will have a fling at him: If he do touch him, he strikes him: if he spepkes to him, there is but a word and a blow: if he do but look upon him, the Horse flings and takes on, as though he would breaks through the walls, or had been a Horse bred up in Bedlam amongst mad-folks. Having thus gotten this hard lesson by heart, forth comes he into Smithfield to repeat it, where the Rider shall no sooner leap into the saddle but the Horse-courser giving the jade (that is half scared out of his wits already) three or four good bangs, away flies Bucephalus as if young Alexander were upon his back. No ground can hold him, no bridle rain him in, he gallops away as if the Devil had hired him of some Hackneyman, and scuds through thick and thin, as if crackers had hung at his heels. If his tail play the wag, and happen to whilk up and down (which is a sign that he does his feats of Activity like a Tumblers apprentice by compulsion and without taking pleasure in them (than shall you see the Horse-courser late about him like a thrasher, till with blows he made him carry his tail to his Bottocks: which in a Horse (contrary to the nature of a Dog) is an argument that he hath metal in him and Spirit, as in the other it is the note of cowardice. These and such other base jugglings are put in practice, by the Horse-courser; in this manner comes he armed into the field: with such had and deceitful commodities does he furnish the markets. Neither steps he upon the devils stage alone, but others are likewise Actors in the selfsame Scene, and sharers with him: for no sooner shall money be offered for a Horse, but presently one Snake thrusts out his head and stings the buyer with false praises of the Horse's goodness: An other throws out his poisoned hook and whispers in the Chapman's ear, that upon his knowledge so much or so much hath been offered by four or five, and would not be taken▪ and of these Ravens there vesundry nests, but all of them as black in soul us the Horse-courser (with whom they are yoked) 〈◊〉 in conscience. This Regiment of Horsemen is therefore divided into four Squadrons. viz. 1 When Horse-coursers travail to country fairs, they are called jynglers. 2 When they have the leading of the Horse & serve in Smithfield, they are Drovers. 3 They that stand by and conycatche the Chapman either with Out-bidding, false-praises, etc. are called Goads. 4 The boys, striplings, etc. that have the riding of the jades up and down are called Skip-iacks. jack in a Box. Or a new kind of Cheating, teaching how to change gold into Silver, unto which is added a Map, by which a man may learn how to travel all over England and have his charges borne. Chap. TWO HOw many Trees of Evil are growing in this country? Terra malos homines nunce●ucat. how tall they are? how Mellow is their fruit? and how greedily gathered? so much ground do they take up, and so thickly do they stand together, that it seemeth a kingdom can bring forth no more of their nature, yes, yes, there are not half so many Rivers in Hell, in Noxia mill medis Laceraebitur umbra. which a soul may sail to damnation, as there are Black Streams of Mischief and Villainy (besides all those which in our Now-two Ueyages, we have ventured so many leagues up, for discovery) in which thousands of people are continually swimming, and encrie minute in danger utterly to be cast away. The Horse-Courser of hell, after he had durtyed himself Abuses of race-running glanced at. with riding up and down Smithfield and having his beast under him, galloped away amain to behold a race of five miles by a couple of Running-Horses, upon whose swiftness great sums of money were laid in wagers. In which School of Horsemanship (wherein for the most part none but Gallants are the Studients) he construed but strange Lectures of Abuses: he could make large Comments upon those that are the Runners of those Races, and could teach others how to lose forty or fifty pound politicly in the forenoon, and in the after noon (with the self-same Gelding) to win a thousand marks in five or sire miles riding. He could tell how Gentlemen are fetched in and made younger brothers, and how your new Knight comes to be a Cousin of this Race. He could draw the true pictures of some fellows, that diet these Running-Horses, who for a bride of forty or fifty shillings can by a false Dye make their own Masters lose a hundred pound a race. He could show more crafty Foxes in this wild-goose chase than there are white Foxes in Russia, & more strange Horse-tricks played by such Riders, than Banks his curtal did ever practise (whose Gambols of the two, were the honester. But because this sort of Birds have many feathers to lose, before they can feel any cold, he suffers them to make their own flight, knowing that prodigals do but jest at the stripes which other men's rods give them, and never complain of smarting till they are whipped with their own. In every Corner did he find Serpents engendering: under every roof, some impiety or other lay breeding: Vix sunt homines hoc nomine dignis, quamque lu● lae●s feritati● habent but at last perceiving that the most part of men were by the sorcery of their own devilish conditions transformed into Wolves, and being so changed, were more brutish & bloody, than those that were Wolves by nature: his spleen leaped against his ribs with laughter, and in the height of that joy resolved to write the villainies of the world in Folio, and to dedicate them in private to his Lord and Master, because he knew him to be an openhanded patron, albeit he was no great lover of scholars. But having begun one picture of a certain strange Beast, (called jack in a Box) that only (because the City had given money already to see it) he finished: and in these colours was jack in a Box drawn. It hath the head of a man (the face well bearded) the eyes of a jack in a Box described. Hawk, the tongue of a Lapwing, which says here it is, when the nest is a good way off: it hath the stomach of an Ostrich, and can digest silver as easily, as that Bird doth Iron. It hath the paws of a Bear instead of hands, for whatsoever it fasteneth upon, it holds: From the middle downwards, it is made like a Greyhound, and is so swift of foot, that if it once get the Start of you, a whole Kennel of Hounds cannot overtake it. It loves to hunt dryfoot, and can Scent a Train in no ground so well as the City, and yet not in all places of the City. But he is best in Scenting between Ludgate and Temple-bar: and 'tis thought that his next hunting shall be between Lumbard-streete and the Gold smiths Row in Cheapside: Thus much for his out ward parts, now you shall have him unriped, and see his inward. This jack in a Box, or this Devil in man's shape, wearing (like a player on a Stage) good clothes on his His exercise back, comes to a Goldsmiths Stall, to a Drapers, a Haberdashers, or into any other shop where he knows good store of silver faces are to be seen. And there drawing forth a fair new box, hammered all out of Silver Plate, he opens it, and powers forth twenty or forty Twentie-shilling-peeces in New-golde. To which heap of Worldly-Temptation, thus much he adds in words, that either he himself, or such a Gentleman (to whom he belongs) hath an occasion for four or five days to use forty pound But because he is very shortly, (nay he knows not how suddenly) to travail to Venice, to jerusalem or so, and would not willingly be disfurnished of Gold, he doth therefore request the Citizen to lend (upon those Forty twenty shilling pieces) so much in white money (but for four, five or six days at most) and for his goodwill he shall receive any reasonable satisfaction. The Citizen (knowing the pawn to be better than siriens fugientia captat Flumina: quid rides? mutat● nomine, de Te Fabula narratur a Bond) powers down forty pound in silver, the other draws it, and leaving so much gold in Hostage, marcheth away with Bag and Baggage. Five days being expited, jack in a box (according to his Bargain) being a man of his word comes again to the Shop or stall (at which he angel's for fresh Fish) and there casting out his line with the silver hook, that's to say, pouring out the forty pound which he borrowed, The Citizen sends in, or steps himself for the Box with the Golden devil in it: it is opened, and the army of angels being mustered together, they are all found to be there. The Box is shut again and set on the Stall, whilst the Citizen is telling of his money: But whilst this music is sounding, jack in a Box acts his part in a dumb show thus; he shifts out o his fingers another Box of the same metal and making, that the former bears, which second Box is filled only with shillings & being p●zed in the hand, shall seem to carry the weight of the former, and is clapped down in place of the first. The Citizen in the mean time (whilst this Pitfall is made for him) telling the forty pounds, misseth thirty or forty shillings in the whole sum, at which the jack in a Box starting back (as if it were a matter strange unto him) at last making a gathering within himself) for his wits, he remembers (he says) that he laid by so much money as is wanting (of the forty pounds to dispatch some business or other, and forgot to put it into the Bag against, notwithstanding, he entreats the Citizen, to keep his gold still, he will take the white money home to fetch the rest, and make up the Sum, his absence shall not be above an hour or two: before which time he shall be sure to hear of him, and with this the little Devil vanisheth, carrying that away with him, which in the end will send him to the Gallows, (that's to say his own gold,) and forty pound beside of the Shopkeepers, which he borrowed, the other being glad to take forty shillings for the whole debt, and Multa potentibus desunt multa. yet is sound boxed for his labour. This jack in a box, is yet but a Chicken, and hath laid very few Eggs, if the Hangman do not spoil it with treading, it will prove and excellent Hen of the Game. It is a knot of Cheators but newly tied, they are not yet a company. They fly not like Wild-geese (in flocks) but like Kites (single) as loathe that any should share in their prey. They have two or three names, (yet they are no romans, but errant Rogues) for sometimes they call themselves jack in a box, but now that their infantry grows strong, and that it is known abroad, that they carry the Philosopher's stone ●bout them, and are able of forty shillings to make forty pound, they therefore use a dead March, and the better to cloak their villainies, do put on these Masking suits: viz. 1. This art or sleight of changing gold into silver, is called Trimming. 2. They that practise it, term themselves Sheepe-shearers. 3 The Gold which they bring to the Citizen, is called jasons Fleece. 4 The silver which they pick up by this wandering, is White-wooll. 5 They that are Cheated by jack in a Box, are called Bleaters. Oh Fleetstreet, Fleetstreet! how hast thou been trimmed, washed, shaven and Polled by these dear and damnable Barbers? how often hast thou met with these Sheep-shearers? how many warm flakes of wool have they pulled from thy Back? yet if thy Bleating can make the flocks that graze near unto thee and round about thee, to lift up thy eyes, and to shun such Wolves and Foxes, when they are approaching, or to have them worried to death before they suck the blood of others, thy misfortunes are the less, because thy neighbours by them shall be warned from danger. Many of thy Gallants (O Fleetstreet) have spent hundreds of pounds in thy presence, and yet never were so much as drunk for it: but for every forty pound that thou layest out in this Indian commodity (of gold) thou hast a Silver Box bestowed upon thee, to carry thy Tobacco in, because thou hast ever loved that costly and Gentlemanlike Smoke. jack in a Box hath thus played his part. There is yet another Actor to step upon the stage, and he seems to have good skill in Cosmography for he holds in his hand a Map, wherein he hath laid down a number of Shires in England, and with small How to trawle without charges. pricks hath beaten out a path, teaching how a man may easily, (though not very honestly) travel from Country to Country, and have his charges borne; and thus it is. He that under-takes this strange journey, lays his first plot how to be turned into a Brave man, which he finds can be done by none better than by a trusty Tailor: working therefore hard with him, till his suit be granted, Out of the City, being mounted on a good gelding, he tides upon his own bare credit, not caring whether ●e travel to meet the Sun at his Rising or at his going down. He knows his Kitchen smokes in every County, and his table covered in every Shire. For when he comes within a mile of the Town, where he means to catch Quas●es, setting Spurs to his horse, away he gallops, with his cloak off (for in these Beseiging of Towns he goes not armed with any (his Hat thrust into his Hose, as if it were lost, and only an empty pair of Hangers by his side, to show that he has been disarmed. And you must note, that this Hot spur does never set upon any places but only such, where he knows (by intelligence) there are store of Gentlemen, or wealthy Farmers at the least. Amongst whom when he is come, he tells with distracted looks, and a voice almost breathless, how many Villains set upon him, what gold & silver they took from him, what woods they are fled into, from what part of England he is come, to what place he is going, how far he is from home, how far from his journeys' end, or from any Gentleman of his acquaintance, and so lively personates the lying Greek (Sinon) in telling a lamentable tale: that the mad Trojans (the Gentlemen of the town, believing him, & the rather because he carries the shape of an honest man in show, and of a Gentleman in his apparel) are liberal of their purses, lending him money to bear him on his journey, to pay which he offers either his bill or bond (naming his lodging in London) or gives his word (as he's a Gentleman, which they rather take, knowing the like misfortune may be theirs at any time. And thus with the feathers of other birds, is this Monster stuck, making wings of sundry fashions, with which he thus basely flies over a whole kingdom. Thus doth he ride from Town to Town, from City to City as if he were a Landlord in every shire and that he were to gather Rents up of none but Gentlemen. There is a Twin-brother to this False galloper, and he cheats Innkeepers only, or their Tapsters, by learning first what Countrymen they are, and of what kindred: and then bringing counterfeit letters of commendations from such an Uncle, or such a Cousin (wherein is requested, that the Bearer thereof may be used kindly) he lies in the june till he have fetched over the Master or Servant for some money (to draw whom to him he hath many books) and when they ●ang fast enough by the Gills, under water Our Shark dives, and is never seen to swim again in that River. Upon this Scaffold, also might be mounted a number traveling Empirics, of Quack-salving Empirics, who arriving in some Country town, clap up their Terrible Bills, in the Marketplace, and filling the Paper with such horrible names of diseases, as if every disease were a Devil, and that they could conjure them out of any Town at their pleasure. Yet these Beggarly Mountibancks are meat Coozeners, and have not so much skill as Horsele●es. The poor people not giving money to them to be cured of any infirmities, but rather with their money buying worse infirmities of them: Upon the same post, do certain straggling Scribbling Writers deserve to have both their names and themselves strolling schoolmaster. hung up, instead of those fair tables which they hang up in Towns, as gay pictures to entice Scholars to them: the Tables are witten with sundry kinds of hands, but not one finger of those hands (not one letter there) drops from the Pen of such a false wandering Scribe. He buys other men's cunning good cheap in London, and sells it dear in the Country. These Swallows brag of no quality in them so much as of swiftness. In four & twenty hours, they will work four and twenty wonders, and promise to teach those, that know no more what belongs to an A. then an Ass, to be able (in that narrow compass) to write as fair and as fast as a country vicar, who commonly reads all the towns Letters. But wherefore do these counterfeit Masters of that Noble Science of Writing, keep such a flourishing with the borrowed weapons of other men's Pens? only for this to get half the Birds (which they strive to catch) into their hands, that's to say, to be paid half the money which is agreed upon for the Scholar, and his nest being half filled with such Goldfinches, he never stays till the rest be fledge, but suffers him that comes next, to beat the bush for the other half. At this Caréere the Rider that set out last from Smith▪ field, stopped: and alighting from Pacolet (the horse that carried him) his next journey was made on foot. The bel-man's second Night-walk. Chap. XII. SIr Lancelot of the infernal Lake, or the Knight Errand of Hell, having thus (like a young country gentleman) gone round about the City, to see the sights not only within the walls but those also in the Subburbes, was glad when he saw 〈◊〉 having put on the vizard that Hell lends Indu●a nigris vest●bus, c● rum insil● Nox her (called darkness to leap in to her Coach) because now he knew he should meet with other strange birds and beasts fluttring from their nests, and crawling out of their dens. His prognostication held currant, and the foulweather (which he foretold,) fell out accordingly. For candlelight ha● scarce opened his eye (to look at the City like a gunner shooting at a mark,) but fearfully (their feet trembling under them) their ●es suspiciously rolling from every nook to nook round Nectis & ere● 〈◊〉 ●nies sunt Dolu●, Metus, Miseria, Fr●, 〈◊〉, etc. 〈◊〉 Lib. 3 De Nat. D●otum. about them, & their heads (as if they stood upon oiled shrews) still turning back behind them, came creeping out of hollow-trées, where they lay hidden, a number of cozening Bankrupts in the shapes of Owls, who when the Marshal of light, the sun, went up and down to search the City, durst not stir abroad, for fear of ●éeing houted at and followed by whole flocks of undone creditors. But now when the stage of the world was hung in black, they jetted up & down like proud Tragedians O what thanks they gave to Darkness! what * 〈◊〉 verenda, verenda, etc. songs they balladed out in praise of Night, for bestowing upon them so excellent a cleake wherein they might so safely walk muftled! Now durst they, as if they had been Constables, rap aloud at the doors of those to whom they owed most money, & brave them with high words, though they paid them not a penny. Now did they boldly step into some privileged Tavern, and there drink healths, dance with Harlots, & pay both Drawers and Fiddlers after midnight with other men's money, & then march home again fearless of the blows that any showlder-clapper durst givethen. Out of another Nest flew certain Murderers and thieves in the shapes of Screech-owl's, who, being set on by the Night, did beat with their bold and venturous fatal wings at the very doors whereas, informer times, their villainies had entered. Not far from These, came crawling out of their bushes a company of grave & wealthy Lechers in the shapes of Glow-worms, who with gold, jingling in their pockets, made such a show in the night, that the doors of Common Brothelryes flew open to receive them, the in s●piens in munera v●nit adultor, Praebuit ipsa sinus. Nec polisti metuunt De●●ec ●cere Deo● opinor. the day time they durst not pass that way, for seat that noted Courtesans should challenge them of acquaintance, or that others should laugh at them to see white heads growing upon green stalks. Then came forth certain infamous earthy minded Creatures in the shapes of Snails, who all the day time hiding their heads in their shells, lea● b●ies should with two fingers point at them for living b●ly upon the prostitution of their wives bodies, cared not now, before candlelight, to shoot out their largest & longest Horns. A number of other monsters, like These, were seen (as the sun went down) to venture from their dens, only to engender with Darkness: but candle-lights eyesight growing dimmer & dimmer, and he at last falling stark blind, Lucifer's Watchman went strumbling up and down in the dark. How to wean Horses. Every door on a sudden was shut, not a candle stood peeping through any window, not a Vintner was to be seen brewing in his Cellor, not a drunkard to be met reeling, not a Mouse to be heard stirring: all the City showed Mutat Quies habitat. like one Bed, for all in that Bed were sound cast into a ●éepe. Noise made no noise, for every one that wrought with the hammer was put to silence. Yet notwithstanding when even the Devil himself could have been contented to take a nap, there were few innkeepers about the town but had their spirits walking. To watch which spirits what they did, our Spy, that came lately out of the Lowercountries, stole into one of their Circles, where lurking very closely, he perceived the when all the guests were profoundly sleeping, when carriers were sound snorting, & not so much as the Chamberlain of the house but was laid up, suddenly out of his bed started an Ostler. who having no apparel on but his shirt, a pair of slip-shooes The knavery of Hostlar. on his feet, and a Candle burning in his hand like old jeronimo stepped into the stable amongst a number of poor hungry jades, as if that night he had been to ride post to the Devil. But his journey not lying that way till some other time, he neither bridled nor saddled any of his four-footed guests that stood there at rack and manger, but seeing them so late at supper, and knowing that to over-eate themselves would fill them full of diseases, (they being subject to above a hundred & thirty already) he first (without a voider) after a most unmannerly fashion took away, not only all the Provander that was set before them, but also all the hay, at which before they were glad to lick their lips. The poor Horses looked very ruefully upon him for this, but he rubbing their teeth only with the end of a Candle (in steed of a Curtal) told them, that for their jadish tricks it was now time to wean them: And so wishing them not to be angry if they lay upon the hard boards, considering all the beds in the house were full, back again he stole to his Coach, till break of day: yet fearing lest the sun should rise to discover his knavery, up he started, & into the stable he stumbled, scarce half awake, giving to every jade a bottle of hay for his breakfast, but all of them being troubled with the greasy toothache, could eat none, which their masters in the ●ing espying swore they were either sullen or else that provender pricked them. This Ostler for this piece of service was afterwards preferred to be one of the Grooms in Belzebubs stable. Another Night-piece drawn in sundry colours. SHall I show you what other bottoms of mischief, Pluto's Beadle saw wound upon the black spindels of the Night, in this his privy search? In some streets he met Mid-w●ies running, till they sweat, & following them close at heels, he spied them to be let in, at the back doors of houses, seated either in blind lanes, or in by-gardens: which houses had rooms builded for the purpose, where young Maids, being big with child by unlawful Fathers, or young wives (in their husband's absence Matronaeque r●ra pudica est. at sea, or in the wars) having wrestled with bachelors or married men, till they caught falls, lay safely till they were delivered of them. And for reasonable sums of money, s●pè ●lent auro multa ●ubesse malà the bastards that at these windows crept into the world, were as closely now and then sent presently out of the * Pectora tantis obseffa malis, Non sunt ict● fertenda leut. world, or else were so unmannerly brought up, that they never spoke to their own parents that begot them. In some streets he met servants in whose breast albeit the arrows of the plague stuck half way, yet by cruel masters were they driven out of doors at midnight and conveyed to Garden-houses, where they either died before Quit prodere tanta relatu Funera. next morning, or else were carried thither dead in their coffins as though they had lain sick there before and there had died. Now and then at the corner of a turning he spied servants purloining farthels of their masters goods, and delivering them to the hands of common strumpets. This door opened, and Lust with Prodigality were heard to stand closely kissing: and (wring one another by the hand) softly to whisper out four of five good-nights, till they met abroad the next morning. A thousand of these comedies were acted in dumb show, and only in the private houses: at which the devils messenger laughed so loud that Hell heard him, and for joy range forth loud and lusty Plaudities. But being driven into wonder why the night would fall in labour, and bring forth so many Uillantes, whose births she practised to cover (as she had reason) because so many watchmen were continually called and charged to have an eye to her doings, at length he perceived that Bats (more ugly and more in number then these) might fly up and down in darkness: for though with their Leathern Wings they should strike the very bills out of those Watchman's hands, such leaden plummets were commonly hung by sleep at all their eyelids, that hardly they could be awakened to strike them again. On therefore he walks, with intent to hasten home, as having filled his Table Books with sufficient notes of intelligence. But, at the last, meeting with the Bellman, and not knowing what he was because he went without his Lantern and some other implements: for the man in the Moon was up the most part of the night and lighted him which way soever he turned, he took him for some churlish Hobgoblin, seeing a long staff on his neck, and therefore to be one of his own fellows. The bell-ringer Smelling what strong scent he had in his nose, soothed him up, and questioning with him how he had spent his time in the city, and what discovery of Land-villanies he had made in this Island voyage: the Mariner of hell, opened his chart, which he had linedwith all abuseslying either East, West, North, or South: he showed how he had pricked it, upon what points he had sailed, where he put in: under what height he kept himself: where he went a shore, what strange people he met: what land he had discovered, and what commodities he was laden with from thence. Of all which the Bellman drawing forth a perfect Map, they parted: which Map he hath set out in such colours as you see, though not with such cunning as he could wish: the pains are his own, the pleasure, if this can yield any pleasure, only yours, on whom he bestows it: to him that embraceth his labours, he dedicats both them and his love: with him that either knows not how, or cares not to entertain them, he will not be angry, but only to Him says thus much for a farewell. —— Si quid Novisti rectius istis, Candidus imperti: Si non, His utere mecum: FINIS.