O per se O.  
OR A new Crier of Lantern and candlelight.  
Being an Addition, or Lengthening, of the Bell-mans' Second Night-walk.  
In which, are Discovered those Villainies, which the Bellman (because he went i'th' dark) could not see: now laid open to the world.  
Together With the shooting through the arm used by counterfeit Soldiers: The making of the great soar, (commonly called The great Cleyme:) The Madman's marks: Their phrase of Begging: The Articles and Oaths given to the Fraternity of Rogues, Vagabonds, and sturdy Beggars at their Meetings.  
And last of all, A new Canting-Song.  
Printed at London for john Busbie, and are to be sold at his shop in S. Dunstan's Churchyard in Fleet-street. 1612.   

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 arms against the tranquillity of the Weale-publicke: 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 horse men 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 and foot: only their Strengths could not be descried, because their Numbers were held infinite. Yet instructions were written, and sent every minute by those that were favourers of Goodness, showing what military discipline 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 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, Paul's Churchyard, Fleetstreet, and other parts of the City. But before they join let me give you note of one thing, and that is this.  
There is an Usurper, that of late hath taken upon him the name of the Belman, but being not able to maintain that title, he doth now call himself the Bel-mans' brother, his ambition is (rather out of vainglory than 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 come 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 then 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 Bel-mans' army, for which conquest he is in hope you will valiantly fight, sithence the quarrel is against the head of monstrous abuses, 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:   

A Table of all the matters that are contained in this Book.  

Chap. 1. Of Canting.  
Chap. 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 Belman.  
4 A messenger sent from thence with instructions.    
Chap. 3. Of Gull-groping. 

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.      
Chap. 4. Of Ferreting. 

How Gentlemen are undone by taking up commodities.  
Which Tragedy hath these five Acts, viz. 

A Tumbler.  
Pursenets.  
A Ferret.  
Rabbet-suckers.  
A Warren.      
Chap. 5. Of Hawking. 

How to catch Birds by the Book.  
Which is done with these five Nets, viz. 

A Falconer.  
A Lure.  
A Tercell-Gentle.  
A Bird.  
A Mongril.      
Chap. 6. Of jacks of the Clockhouse.  
Chap. 7. Of Ranckeriders. 

How Innkeepers and Hackney men are saddled.  
To make whom go a round pace, you must have 

A Colt.  
A Snaffle.  
A Ring.  
Provander.      
Chap. 8. Of Moone-men.  
Chap. 9 The infection of the Suburbs.  
Chap. 10. Of jynglers. 

The villainy of Horse-coursers.  
Who consists of— 

jynglers.  
Drovers.  
Goads.  
skip-iackes.      
Chap. 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 to travel all over England, and have his charges borne.  
Chap. 12. The Bell man's second Nights walk, in which he meets with a number of Monsters that live in darkness.    

Lantern and candlelight. OR The Bel-mans' second nights walk.  

Of Canting. How long it hath been a language: how it comes to be a language: how it is derived: and by whom it is spoken. CHAP. 1.  
WHen all the World was but one 
One language through all the world at the beginning.  Kingdom, 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 Mistressa in the sweet and amorous Tuscan: 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 voluble significant Welsh, were not then so much as spoken of: the quick Scottish Dialect (sister to the English) 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 voice) by which means her Eloquence was ●●rest yet hardest to learn, and so (but for necessity) not regarded amongst Strangers. Yet afterwards those noblest languages 
English tongue comparable to the best.  lent her words and phrases, and turning those Borrow into Good husbandry, she is now as rich in Elocution, and as abundant, as her proudest and 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 néeding an Interpreter to run between them. Which thing Nymrod (the first Idolater) perceiving, and not knowing better how to employ so many thousand millions 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 
Building of Babel.  Babel. But the Master-workman of this great Universe, (to check the insolence of such a saucy builder) that durst raise up pinnacles equal to his own (above) commanded the self-same Spirit, that was both bred in the Chaos, and had maintained it in disorder, to be both Surveyor of those works, and controller of the Labourers. This Messenger 
Confusion described.  was called Confusion. It was a Spirit swift of sight, & faithful of service. Her looks wild, serrible and inconstant: her attire carelessly loose, and of a thousand several colours. In one hand she gripped an 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 fast before her: the Spirits names were Treason, Sedition; and War, who at every time when they went abroad; were ready to see Kingdoms in an uproar. She road upon a Chariot of clouds, which was always furnished with Thunder, Lightning, Winds, Raine, Hailstones, Snow, and all the other Artillery belonging to the service of Divine Vengeance: and when she spoke, her voice founded like the roaring of many Torrents; voysterously struggling together, for between her jaws did she carry 1000000 tongues.  
This strange Linguist stepping to every artificer that 
Beginning of Languages.  was there at work, whispered in his ear: whose looks were thereupon (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 beat out the brains of his Labourer: the Carpenter took up his Are to throw at the Carver, whilst the Carver was stabbing at the Smith, because he brought him an Hammer, when he should have made him a Chizzell: He that called for Timber had stones laid before him: and 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 stuff 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, s from enemies and 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 and 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 he made for Discoveries) 
The Bell man's first Book.  found them to be savages, yet living in an Island very temperate, fruitful, full of a noble Nation, rarely governed. The Laws, manners, 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 never beheld The first. it shall not be a miss (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.  
RVfflers.  
upright-men.  
hooker's, alias Anglers.  
Rogues.  
Wild Rogues.  
Priggers of Prancers.  
Pallyards.  
Fraters.  
Prigges.  
Swadders.  
Curtals.  
Irish Toils.  
Swigmen.  
jarkmen.  
Patricoes.  
Kitchin-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 Cursitors, 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.  By none but the soldiers of These tottered bands, is it familiarly or usually spoken, yet within less than fourscore 
How long, Canting hath been used. The first canter hanged.  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 daity practising new & strange Villainies, should borrow to themselves a speech, which (so near as they could) none but themselves should understand: & for that cause was this Language, (which some call peddlers French) 
How canting grew to be a language.  Invented, to th'intent that (albeit any Spies should secretly steal into their companies to discover them) 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 upón them the names of Kinchin Coes, till they 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 is 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 king of music, and he that in such assemblies can cant 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 all base 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, and 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, and Nab-cheate, is a hat, or a cap: Which word cheat, being coupled to other words, stands in very good stead, and does excellent service: For a Smelling cheat, signifies a Nose: a Prattling cheat, is a tongue Crashing cheats, are teeth: Hearing. cheats are Ears: Fambles are Hands: and there upon 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 Sheep: 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 Gentleman 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 Choir Ken, that is 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, than 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 plurke here a flower, and there another, which (as I take it) will bemore delightful then if you gathered them by handfuls.  
But before I lead you into that walk, stay and hear a Canter in his own language, making Rhythms, albeit (I think) those th'arms of Poesy which (at the first) made the barbarous tame, and brought them civility, can (upon these savage Monsters) work no such wonder. Yet thus he sing● (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-chere,  
Cya●●m, by Salmon, and thou shalt pek my jere,  
In thy Ga●, for my watch it is nace gear.  
For the been bows my watch hath a win, etc.   
This short Lesson I leave to be constraved by him that is desirous to try his skill in the language, which he may use 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, and when we being back to the Dewese a vile, we will filch some Dudes, 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 bena● whiddes: and speak better words.  
And b'ing we to Romevile: 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 Ale house.  
And when we b'ing back: and when we come back.  
To the Dewse-a-vile: into the Country.  
We will filch some dudes: we will filth 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 frast you with variety.  

The Canter's Dictionary.  
AVtem, a church.  
Autem-mort, a married woman.  
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.  
Dark man's, 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.  
Glymmer, fire.  
Gigger, a door.  
Gentry Mort, a Gentlewoman.  
Gentry cofes Ken, a Nobleman's house.  
Harman beck, a Constable.  
Harmans', the Stocks.  
Heave a bough, rob a Booth.  
jarke, a Seal.  
Ken, a House.  
Lage of Dudes, a Buck of Clothes.  
Libbege, a Bed.  
Lower, money.  
Lapet, Butter, Milk, or Whey.  
Libkin, 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, Riding.  
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 Quean.  
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 maund 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 Harmans'.  
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 chutes, in the lightmen  
The Bube & Ruffian cly the Harman beck & harmans'.    

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 have Canted (I fear) too much, let us now give ear to the Belman, and hear what he speaks in english.    

THE BEL-MANS' SECOND Night's walk. CHAP. II.  
IT was Term time in hell (for you 
Qui fixit leges pretio atque refixit.  must understand, a Lawyer lives there aswell as here:) by which means done Lucifer (being the justice for that County, where the Brimstone mines are) had better doings and more rapping at his gates, than all the Doctors and emperical Quacksalvers of ten Cities have at theirs in a great plague time. The hall where these Termers 
A description of the Hall, where matters are tried in Hell.  were to try their causes, was very large 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 orcasions, and such justling there was of one another, that it would have grieved any man to be in the throngs amongst me. Nothing could be heard but noise, and nothing 
Hine exauditur gemitus, etc.  of that noise be understood, but that 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, heè was so eager in the very delivery of that tale, that you would 
The judge of the Court. Haec Radamanthus habet durissima regna; Castigatque ditque dolos, subigitque sateri, etc.  have sworn he did brabble: and such gnashing of teeth there was when adversaries met together, that the fyling 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 punishingthose 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 
— impios vinclis perpetuis domant.  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 Vacations, yet should a 
The customs and condition of the Court.  man be dispached out of hand. In one Term he had 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 averti.  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 punished for Forgery: their Standishes are the Seuls 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 be fore the Devil.  but turn over the Records, and read them unto you as they hang upon the File.  
The Courtier is sued here, and condemned for Riots.  
The Soldier is sued here, and condemned for murders.  
The Scholar is sued here, & condemned for Heresies.  
The Citizen is sued here, and condemned for the Citie-sinnes.  
The Farmer is suedchéere upon Penal Statutes, and 
— Quique arma secuti impia.— Epulaeque ante ora paratae,— furiarum maxima juxta accubat, & manibus prohibet contingere mensas.  condemned for spoiling the Markets.  
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 crumb 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 suddenly: For here they stand upon no demurs; no Audita Queraela can here be gotten, no writs of Errores to Reverse judgement: here is no flying to a court of Chancery for relief, yet every one 
— Exercenter paenis, eternumque malorum. Supplicia expendunt.  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 Regnum, upon Rebellion, upon heavy Fines (but no Recoveries) upon writs of Out-lary, to attach the body for ever, and last of all upon Executions after judgement, which being served upon a man is his everlasting undoing.  
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 réeling 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) room, 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 up to the Bench where judge Radamanth with his two grime Brothers (Minos and Aecus) sat. This Spirit was an intelligencer sent by Belzebub of Batharum, into some Countries of christendom, to lie there as a Spy, and had brought with him a packet of letters from several Leigiers 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 that Letter that stung most, and put them all out of their law cases, tended to this purpose.  
That whereas she Lord of the Fiery Lakes had his Ministers in all kingdoms above the earth, whose 
A letter against the Belman.  Offices were not only to win the subjects of other Princes to his obadience, 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 allegiance: also discover from time to time all plots, conspiracies, machinations, or underminings, that should be laid (albeit they that durst lay them should dig deep enough) to blow up his great Infernal City: so that if his Horned Regiment were not suddenly mustered together, and did not ●●stely bestir their cloven stumps, his territories would be shaken, his dominions left in time unpeopled, his forces looked into, and his authority which he held in the world, contemned and laughed to scorn. The reason was, that a certain fellow. The Child of Darkness, a common Nightwalker, a man that had no man to wait upon 
The Belman.  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 Belman 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 serrets of the best trades that are taught in hell, laying them open to the broad eye of the world, making them infamous, odious, and ridiculous: yea, and not satisfied with doing this wrong to his divelship, very spitefully hath he set them out in print, drawing their pictures so to the life, that now a horse-stealer shall not show his head, but a hailter 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 track 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, she 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 no body.  
This was the liking 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 adiournd, (by reason that the Hell hounds were thus Plagued) & 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 apaire 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 oftentimes does) told his children & servants (and the rest of the citizens that dwelled within 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 bewitched 
Huc omnis turba  with 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 number) were his slaves, his court was full of Princes, if the world were denied (as some report) but into three 
Innumerae gentes populsqué.  parts, two of those three were his: or if (as others affirm) into four parts, almost three of that four he had firm footing in.  
But if such a fellow as a treble voiced Belman, should be suffer to pry into the infernal Mysteries, & into those black Acts which command the spirits of the Deep, and having sucked what knowledge he can from them, to turn it all into poison, and 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, and all the plagues of stinking Hell should 
Graucolentis Auerni.  fall upon 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 down.  
At last, a foolish Devil rose up, and shot the bolt of his advice, which flew thus far: That the Black-dogge of Newgate should again be let loose, and a far off, follow the Bawling Belman, to watch into what places he went, and what deeds of darkness (every night) he did. Hinc risus! The whole Synodical assembly, fell a laughing at this Wise-acre, so that neither he, nor his black Dog 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 that damned crew, (who by the Bel-mans' 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: and 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. The 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 further than what should be given unto them, it was concluded and set down as a rule in Court, that some one strange Spirit, who 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 Parmersiell the Messenger was called, a Passport was drawn, signed, and delivered to him, with certain instructions how to carry himself in his travel. And thus much was openly spoken to him by word of mouth.  
Fly Pamersiel with speed to the great and populous city in the West: wind thyself into all shapes: be a Dog (to ●awne,) a Dragon (to confound,) be a Dove (seem innocent,) be a Devil (as thou art,) and show that thou art a jorniman to hell. Build rather thynest 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, and never leave them till they look like Ravens: creep into bosoms 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 méetst 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 find prodigals: pay thy twopences to a Player, in his gallery mayst thou sit by a Harlot: at Ordinaries mayst thou dine with filken fools: when the day steals out of the world, thou shalt meet rich drunkards, under welted gowns search for threescore in the hundred, hug those golden villains, they shine bright, & will make a good show in hell, shricke with a cricket in the brewhouse, and watch how they conjure there: Ride up and down Smithfield, and play the jade there: 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, follow it, farewell.  
No sooner was farewell spoken, but the spirit to whom all these matters were given in charge, vanished: the cloven footed Orator arose, and the whole assembly went about their damnable business.   

Gul-groping. How Gentlemen are cheated at Ordinaries. CHAP. III.  
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 hence thither, or to any Lackey that comes from thence 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 merchants 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-horses in the city, who cared 
Auser imur cultu, Gemmis aureque tegnutur omnia.  not how coarsely they fed, so they might were gay trappings: yea, 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 here counsel, and knowing by his own experience that every Tailor hath his hell 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 
Burchen-lane described. Tailors at first were called Linnen-Armorers. sergeant.  Armourers, (whose weapons are Spanish needles) but he was most terribly and sharply set upon, every prentice 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, and 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 show 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 ●ether for his head, gilt rapier for his sides, & new boots to hide his polt foot, for in Bedlam he 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 onely-tablemen 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: for no Ambassador from the devil ever dined amongst them before,) and he as much took especial notice of them. In observing of whom and of the place, he found, that an Ordinary was the only Rendezvous 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 devils 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 voider 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 oaths 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 and 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 and Ventures, is the woodpecker.  
The fresh Gallant that is fetched in, is The Gul.  
He that stands by, and lends, is the Gul-groper.   

The Gul-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 is 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 Gul-groper takes him to a side window and tells him, he is 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 (as 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, and 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 reccipt of it; he hath fatter Chickens in hatching: it is 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 ring with a Diamond, or any such like commodity, he notes him well that commonly is best acquainted with the Dice, and hath ever good luck: to him he offers his prize, rating it at ten or fifteen pound, when happily it is 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 draws: by which means he perhaps in a short time, makes that yield him forty 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.  
NOwifeither The Leaders, or The forlorn Hope, or any of the rest, chance to hear of a young Freshwater soldier that never before followed these strange war, and yet hath a Charge newly given him (by the old fellow Soldado Vecchio his father, when Death had shut 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-stréet 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 wit is thought to be of a better block for his head, than the rest, is appointed to single out our Novice, and after some four 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 flutter 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 afterwards, let him play how warily soever he can, the damned Dice shall cross him, and 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 sormes wealth, the Leaders maintain themselves brave, the Forlome 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 Gul himself, at whom every one has a Pull, hath in the end scarce feathers enough to keep his own back warm.  
The Post master of Hell, seeing such villain 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 of it, delivered the same to filthybearded Charon (their own Waterman) to be conveyed first to the Porter of Hell, & then (by him) to the Master Keeper of the Devils.    

Of Ferreting. The Manner of undoing Gentlemen by taking up of commodities. CHAP. FOUR  
HVnting is anoble, a manly, and a healthful exercise, it is a very true picture of war, nay it is a war in itself, for engines are brought into the steid, stratagems are contrived, ambushes are laid, onsets are given, alarums 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.  
Some hunt the Lion, and that shows as when subjects 
Hunting of the Lion, etc.  rise in 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 spotted Panther, & the freckled Leopard, they are such as to enjoy their pleasures regard not how black an infamy sticks upon them: All these are barbarous and unnatural Huntsmen, for they range up and down the deserts, the Wilderness, and the Mountains, Others pursue the long-lived Hart, the courageous Stag 
Hunting of the Buck.  or the nimble footed Dear: these are the noblest 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 
Hunting of the Hare.  simplicity so to her shifts, that she grows cunning and provident: the turnings and cross windings that she makes are emblems of this life's uncertainty: when she thinks she is further from danger, it is at her heels, and when it is nearest to her, the hand of safety defends her. When she is wearied and hath run her race, she takes her death patiently, thereby to teach man to make himself ready, when the grave gapes for him.  
All these kinds of hunting are abroad in the open field, but there is a close City hunting, only within the 
De magno preda petenda grege.  walls, that pulls down Parks, lays open Forests, destroys Chases, wounds the Dear of the land, and makes such havoc of the goodliest Herds, that by their wills, (who are the rangers,) none should be lest alive but the Rascals. This kind of hunting is base and ignoble. It is the meanest, yet she most mischievous, and it is called Ferreting. To behold a course or two at this, did the light-horseman of Hell one day leap into the saddle.  

Citie-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 possessions 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 windelesse, by running after sensual pleasures too fiercely, they are glad 
Dolour ac volupt as invicem cedunt.  (for keeping themselves in breath so long as they can) to fall 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 hamnds.  

1 He that hunts up and down to find game, is called, 
The tragedy of Ferret-hunting divided into 5. acts.  the Tumbler.  
2 The commodities that are taken up are called Purse-nets.  
3 The Citizens 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 in 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 gaining have lost all, they sit plotting in their chambers, with necessity, how to be furnished, presently with a new supply of 〈◊〉. They 
Nam illa omnes artes perdecet, ubi quem attigit.  would take up any commodity whatsoever, but the●● names 〈◊〉 in too many texted letters all ready in Mercers and Soriveners books: upon a hundred pounds worth of Roasted beef they could find in their hearts to venture, for that would away 〈…〉 of a hand: but where shall they find Butcher, or a Cook, that will let any 〈…〉 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 wax, for himself as well as for them, to do any thing in wax, or indeed till they have won him 
Dum spectant oculi lasos; leduntur & ipsi.  to slide upon this Ice, because he knows not the danger) he is 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 feáre? 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 shall be 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 Tumbler, that is to say, a fellow, who beats the bush for them till they 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 Merrers, Gouldsmithes, Drapers, Haberdashers, or of any other trade, where he thinks he may meet with a Ferret: and the upon his very first course, he can find his game, 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 coaped (that is to say, have their lips stitched up close) that he can hardly get them open to so great a sum as five hundred pounds, which they desire. This heache being chewed down 
Nil habit inf●lix paupertae durius in se, Quam quod ridicules homines facit.  by the Rabbet-suckers almost kills their hearts, and is worse to them then dabbing on the necks to Coneys. They bid him if he cannot fasten his tieth 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 fist 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 Frame 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 carréere, 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, then 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 their Merchandise, though it be with loss: Abroad into the City he Sails for that purpose, and deals with him that sold, to but his own Commodities again for ready money; He will not do it under. 30 l. loss in the Hunored: 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 〈◊〉 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: ●u●h, cry all the Sharers, 〈…〉 these 〈…〉 Curmudgeons, give that 〈◊〉 your friend 10. l. for his pains, and ●etch the rest of the money: within an hour after, it is brought, and powered 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 see the Tombler is to have, for Hunting so well, and conclude that less than 10 l. they cannot give him, which 10. l. is the first told out. Now let us cast up this Account: In every 100 l. is 
Dedit hanc contagio labem, et Dabit in plures.  lost 30. which being 5. times 30. l. makes 150. l. that Sum the Ferret puts up clear besides his over-prising the wares: unto which 150. l. lost, ad 10. l. more, which the Tumbler gulls them off, and 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 weather lasteth lasteth, and that there is any grake to nibble upon, These Rabbet-suckers keep to the Warren wherein they fattened: but the 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, and are stolen into other groun us. No marvel then if the Ferret grow fierce and tear open his own jaws, to suck blood from him that is left: no marvel if he scratch what woolhe can from his back: the Pursnet's that were Set, are all taken up & carried away. The Warren therefore must be Searched, That must pay for all: over that does he range like a little Lord. sergeant, Marshals-men, and Bailiffs are sent forth, who lie scouting at every corner, and with terrible paws haunt every walk. Inconelusion the bird that these Hawks sly after, is seized upon, then are his feathers plucked, his estate looked into, then are his wings broken, his lands made over to a stranger: then must our young son & heir pay 500 l. (for which he never had but 66. l.) or else lie in prison. To keep himself from which, he feales to any bond, enters into any statute, morgageth 
Infelix viris excidit ipse suis.  any Lordship, Does any thing, Sales any thing, yéews to pay any thing. And these City storms (which will wet a man, till he have never a dry thried 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 permultos tenuantur Flumina rives.  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 
Hawking.  sit they should keep company together: both of them are noble Games, and Recreations, honest and healthful, yet they may so be abused that nothing can be more hurtful. In Hunting, the Game is commonly still before you, or 〈…〉 hearing, and within a little compass: In Hawking, the game flies far off, and oftentimes out of sight: A Couple of Rooks therefore (that were birds of the last feather) conspired together to leave their nest in 
Fancies run omnibus ●na, ●ec diversatamem.  the City, and to flutter abroad, into the Country: Upon two lean hackneys 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 Cityhunting, 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 Gul, (and * indeed such fellows take all men for Gulls, who they 
Qui nisi quod ipsi faciunt, nihilrectum putant.  think to be beneath them in quality) told him they were Falconers. But the Foxethat followed them, seeing no properties, (belonging to a Falconer) about them, smelled knavery, took them for a pair of mad rascals, and therefore resolved to see at what these Falconers would let fly.  

How to cast up the Lure.  
AT last on a sudden says one of them to him, Sir, 
The first Note.  we have Sprung a Partridge, & so fare you well: which words came stammering out with the haste that they 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 S. 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 Aquila non capit Muscas) what should a Falconer meddle with files? he only salutes him that in his eye seems to be a Gentlemanlike fellow: Of him he asks for his good Knight, or so, and says that he is a * Gentleman come from London on a 
Et qua non fecimus ipsi, vix ea nostra voeo:  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 
Sen stos fuit ille Caducus Frange Puer Calamos & manes desere Musas. Quid nisi Monstra legis?  virtues hath drawn me hither, venturously bold to fix your worthy name as a patronage to a poor short discourse, 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 Vellum, with gilt-fillets, and fourpenny 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, and 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 Atmy 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 hold 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 Angles, inviting him either to stay breakfast, or if the sun-dial of the house 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 undeserving player for half a share) asks this question, Straws or not? Straws cries the whole sharer and a half, away then replies the first, fly to our nest: This nest is never in the 
stultus quoque munere gaudet.  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 themselves into the fairest Chamber, and bespeaking 
How Birds are dressed after they be caught.  the best cheer in the town for dinner, down they sit, and 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 of, and therefore there is Trunk full of Trinkets, that is 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 black art, that is to say, in picking of locks, makes the door suddenly fly open (which they had closely shut. At his strange entrunce they being somewhat aghast, began to shustle 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 Fakoners indeed, but by the (and then he swore a danuiable 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 smoked, 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 unless 5. 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 gentleman of like quality.  
4 The Bird that is preied upon, is Mony.  
5 He that walks the horses, and hunts dryfoot 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 priúits at his own charge, the Mongrel running up and down to look to the workmen, and bearing 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 ●ea 〈…〉 either with ● 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, & vary in nothing but in the titles of their patrons.  
Having thus furnished themselves, and packed up their wares, 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 swéete-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 Stationers to inquire if any such work be come forth, and 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 bugbeares lurk in Tenebris) 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 would accept of it or no.  
This satisfies 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 five in a country, that buying up any old Book (especially a Sermon, or any other matter of Divinity) that lies for waste 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 name (for a Dedscation) on the sudden travail up and down most Shires in England, and live by this Hawking.  
Are we not excellent Falconersnow (quoth three half shares?) excellent villains, cried the devils Deputy: by this the meat (for dinnet came smoking in, upon which they fell most firannically, yet (for manners sake) offering first, to the Balife 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 himlike 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 beantifull Maiden-body, polluted like a strumpets, and prostituted to beastly and slanish 
Cur ego si neque ignoreque Poetae salutor.  Ignoraike? O than 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 branded i'th' 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 hung up in another place) shall leave you impudently arrogant to yourselves, and ignominiously rioiculeus too after ages: in these colours, are you drawn.  

The true picture of these Falconers.  
— There be Fellows 
Proh superi quantum pectora caeca Noctis Habent.   
Of course and common blood; Mechanic knaves,  
Whose 〈…〉 buried then in graves:  
And indeed 〈…〉 earthy, whose creation.  
Was but to give a Boot or Shoe good fashion.  
Yet these (shrowing by the Apron and the Awl)  
Being drunk with their own wit, cast up their gall 
scribimus indocti; doctic   
Only of ink: and in patchd, beggarly Rhymes,  
(As full of fowl corruption, as the Times)  
From town to town they stroll in soul, as poor  
As th' are 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 oratlon)  
And thus to give books now's an occupation. 
Miserum est aliorum incumbere famae.   
One book hath seven score patrons: thus desert  
Is cheated of her due: thus noble art  
Gives Ignorance (that common strumpet) place,  
Thus the true scholars name grows cheap and base, etc.     

jacks of the Clockhouse. A new and cunning drawing of money from Gentlemen. CHAP. VI  
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 Fiddlers) 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 town, in praise of the Union.) And these are fairly written and engrossed in velum, Parchment, or Royal paper, richly adorned with compartments, and set out with letters both in gold, and in various 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 straggling streams into so fair and smooth a River: whereas the Work is the labour of some other (copied out by stealth) by 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-masters and Hackney-men. CHAP. VII.  
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 iournyes many, their expenses great, their Inns every where, their lands no where: they have only a certain Frée-holde called Tyburn, (situate near London, and many a fair pair of Gallows in other Countries beside,) upon which they live very poorly, till they die, and die for the most part wickedly, because their lives are villainous and desperate. But what race so ever they run, their they end it, there they set up their rest, there is their last bait, whether soever their journey lies. And these horsemen have no other names but rank Riders.  
To furnish whem forth for any journey, they must have Riding 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 six or seven in a company, and these Caréeres 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 act 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 is to say, the innkeepers) is at their coming in to ask aloud if the footman be gone back with the horses? 'tis answered yes. Here, the Ranck-riders lie three or four days, spending moderately enough, yet abating not a penny of any reckoning, to show of what house they come: in which 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 within a day or two, Up they get and away Gallop our 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 fourscore 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 thrée-score or a hundred miles of from that place, as before they did from London.  

Running at the Ring.  
THus, so long 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 Villainies (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 punishment upon them: & 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 wilh 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 ensconced (which they may do without suspicion) and having got 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 one foot, they are no more called Ranck-riders but Ttrowlers, a proper name given to Country players, that (without Socks) troth from town to town upon the bare hoof.  
Being arrived at the Gate where the Gentlemen, or Farmer dwelleth, he boldly knocks, enquiring for him by name, and steps into speak with him: the servant seeing a fashionable person, tells his Master there is a Gentleman desires to speak with him: the master comes 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 a turn 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 Soldiers, 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 moneys, so that I cannot with the credit of a Gentleman leave the house till I have paid them. Make me sir so much beholden to your love as to lend me forty or fifty shillings 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 attired, and not carrying in outward colours, the face of a cogging-knave, gives credit to his words, are sorry 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 miscarry. 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 Mountibanekes 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 manner 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 Common Wealth 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 Kanens think carrion the daintiest meat, and villains esteem most of that money which is purchased by baseness.  
The Vnder-Shriffe for the county of the Cacodemons', knowing into what arrearages these Rank-riders 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 possibly could to get to London again, he was waylaid by an army of a strong and new found people.    

Moone-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) ovet the bodies of Frantic persons. But these Moone-men (whose Images are now to be carved) are neither absolutely mad, nor 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 and 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 Runnagats 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 undes bushes; and are indeed no better than Hedge créepers.  
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 had all thè yellow jawndis, or that they were To●●y, Moors 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 mart faces. By a byname 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 their 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 
His order in marching on foot or serving upon horse.  strong, yet they never march with all their bags and baggages together, but (like boot-halers) they forage up and down countries, 45. or 6. 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 pameres, or in dosters like fresh-fish from Kine that comes on horseback, (if they be but infants.) But if they can straddle once, then aswell the she rogues as the héeroagues 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 Egiptian-tice swarming within it, for like flocks of wild geese, 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 the formostranckes 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 old, 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 rancke-knaveryes. The women as ridiculously attire themselves, and (like one that plays, the Rogue on a Stage) wear rags, and patched filthy mantles uppermost, when the under garments are handsome and in fashion.  
The battles these Outlaws make, are many and 
His man's of fight.  very bloody. Whosoever falls into their hands never escapes alive, and 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, then poor prisoners are by keepers in the counter it'h Povitry. A goose coming amongst them learns to be wise, that he never will be Goose any more. The bloody trage dies 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 Firre-bush Common, far from any houses: Upon which casting themselves into a King, they enclose the Murdered, till the Massacare be finished. If any passenger come by, and wondering to see such a conjuring circle kept by Hell hounds & demand what spirits they raise there: one of the Murderers steps to him, poisons him with sweet words and shifts him off, with this lie, that one of the women is fallen in labour: but if any made Hamlet hearing this, smell villainy, & rush in by violence to fee what the tawny. devils are doing, than they excuse the fact, lay the blame on those that are the actors, a perhaps (it they see no remedy) deliver them to an officer, to be had to punishment: But by the way a rescue is surely laid, and very valiantly (though very villainously) do they fetch them off, and guard them.  
The Cabbines where these Land-pyrates lodge in the night, are the Out-barnes of Farmers and 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: in these Barns, are both their Cooke-rooines, their Supping Parlours, and their Bedchambers: for there they dress after a beastly manner, what soever they purchased after a thievish fashion: sometimes they eat Venison, & have Gray-hounders that kill it for them, but if they had not, they are Hounds themseives and are damnable Hunters after flesh: Which appears by their ugly-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 
His qualities whilst he lies entrenched.  Adulteries, and of all other black and deadly-damned Impieties; here grows the cursed Tree of bastardy, that is so fruitful: here are written the Books of all Blasphemies, Swear and Curses, that are so dreadful to be read. Yet the simple countrypeople 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 and liberty, they Spread themselves in small companies amongst the Villages: and when young maids and bachelors (yea sometimes old doting fools; that should be beaten to this world of villainies, and forewarn others (do flock about them, they then profess skill in Palmistry, & (forsooth) can 
What pieces of desperate service he ventures upon.  tell fortunes, which for the most part are infallibly true, by reason that they work upon rules, which are grounded upon certamty: 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 and basest kinds of punishment. For if the ugly body of this Monster be suffered to grow and fatten itself with mischiefs and disorder, it will have a neck so Sinewy & so brawny, that the arm of the law will have much a do to strick of the Head, sithence every day the members of it increase, and it gathers new joints and new forces by Priggers, Anglers, Cheators, Morts, Yeoman's Daughters (that have taken some by blows, and to avoid shame, fall into their Sins) and other Servants, both men and maids, that have been pilferers, with all the rest of that Damned Regiment, marching together in the first Army of the Belman, who running away from their own Colours (which are bad enough) serve under these, being the worst. Lucifer's Lansprizado that stood alooft 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 and down the Country, was glad when he had gotten 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, and into the Suburbs he went. And what saw he there? More Ale houses than there are Taverns in all Spain and France. 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 dies patet atri janua Ditis.  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 with one Token of death about him) was close rammed up and Guarded for fear others should have been infected: Yet the plague that a whorehouse lays upon a City is worse, yet is laughed at: if 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 undo the other: give thanks O wide mouthed Hell! laugh Lucifer at this, Dance for joy all you Devils.  
Belzebub keeps the Register book, of all the Bawds, Panders and Courtesans: & he knows, that these Suburb sinners have no lands 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? and the Dore-Kéeping mistress of such a house of sin, but his Vnder-Bawd? sithence he takes twenty pounds rend 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 siluerlookes 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 is there. A cheater that would turn his own father a begging? He is there too: A harlot that would murder her new borne 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 Serpent? 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 doorkeeper, 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 villains (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 (as 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 she then? only the Puritan. If before she ruffled in filkes, now is she more civilly attired then a Mid wife. If before she swaggred in Taverns, now with the Snail she stirreth not out of doors. And where must her lodging be taken up, but in the house of some citizen, 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 shall be of such a profession, that all comers may enter, without the danger of any eyes to watch them. As for example, she will lie at some scriveners house, and so under the colour of coming to have a Bond made, she herself may write Noverint universi. And though 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-countries, & 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 shopkeepers come to her, with what do you lack, in their mouths, than she takes up such and 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 Apron-men launch forth there, then keeps she a politic semsters shop, or she starches them.  
Perhaps she is so politic, that none shall be noted to 
How a city punk Rangeth.  board her: if so then 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, and 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, and then leaves him: the third man, squires her to a play, which being ended, and the wine offered and taken (for she's on 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, & drinckes 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 off such midnight stragglers. But the word being given, and who goes there, with come before the Constable, being shot at them, they vail presently and come, she taking upon her to answer all the Billmen and their Leader. Between whom and 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 is 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 Constable's mouth with sugur-plummes (that is 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, and 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 is to say, commit, commit.  
You Guardians over so great a Princess as the eldest daughter to 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, & drive them out of your gates, as chaff tossed abroad by the winds.  
But stay: is our walking spirit become an Orator to persuade? no: but the Belman of London, with whom he met in this perambulation of his, and to whom he betrayed himself and 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 jade 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 Kites to f●ede upon Carion) 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 Horsecouser 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 an 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 thath 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 the white star in the forehead, the white heel, etc.) or the bright Bay, with the like proper ●●arkes also. And the goodlier proportion the beast carries or the fairer marks or colour that he ●eares, are or ●●ght 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 had pennyworth, because such Horses (belonging for the most part to Gentlemen) are seldom or never sold away, but upon some fowl quality, or some incurable disease, which the Beast is fallen into. The Best colours are therefore the best Cloaks to hide those fa●●ts 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, tainted, dull and diseased horses. By which means, if his picture 
The picture of a Horse-courser.  be drawn to the life, you shall find every Horse-courser for the most part to be in quality a coozener, by profession a knave, by his cunning 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 seiling a jade not worth five Nobles, will he forswear himself fifteen times, and that forswearing too shall be by Equivocation. As ●ée example, if an ignorant Chapman coming to beatethe 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 damb's 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 theirmony 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 Schooe 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 pil● (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 disease being suffered to run upon him many years together is grown inumcible, yet hath our Ingling Mountihancke Smith-field-rider, a trick to cure him, five or six ways: and this is one 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 neezing powder that can be gotten: which with a quill being blown up into the Nostrils, to make it work the better, he stands poking 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 néezzing 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 hissed at for not 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 the roof of the tongue, and holding him there so long and so forcibly, that he cough twice or thrice, if then (after you let go your hold) his chaps begin to walk as if he were chewing down a Horseleafe, shake hands with old monsieur Caviliero Horse-Courser, but clap no bargain upon it, for his jade is as full of infirmity, as the Master Villainy.   

Other Gambols that Horse-coursers practise upon Foundered Horses, old Lads, etc.  
SMithfield is the Stage upon which the Mountebank English Horse-courser advancing his banner, defies 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 years of age: and that counterfeit badge of youth, he wears thus: The Horse-courser with a small round iron made very hot, burns two black hoses in the top of the two out-most teeth of each side the outside of the Horse mouth upon the neither teeth, and 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, and in that strooking 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 Calendar 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 a sore travailer) happen by falling into a cold sweat to be Foundered, so that (as if he were drunk or had the staggers) he 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 (being so collerickly hat) 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.  
If 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 Horse-courser uses him then as Cheating Swaggerers handle Novices, what they cannot win by the Dice, they will have by Foule-play: and in that foul manner, deals he with the poor horse, riding him up and down in the thickest and the durtiest places, till that dirt, like a ruffled boot drawn upon an ill-favoured gouty leg, cover the jades infirmity from the eye of the Buyer.   

How a Horse-courser makes a jade 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 be fed a month together with musty oats, than to taste it: Yet are not all Horses bidden to this Lamb-pye-Breakefasts, but only such as are 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? Only 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 Quarterstaff 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 speaks 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 break 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 whisk 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 lay about him like a thrasher, till with blows he make him carry his tail to his Buttocks: 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 bad and deceitful commodities does he furnish the markets. Neither steps he upon the devils stage alone, but others are likewise Actors in the self-same 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 err, 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 be sundry nests, but all of them as black in soul as the Horse-courser (with whom they are yoked) is 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, and serve in Smithfield, they are Drovers.  
3 They that stand by and coney-catch the Chapman, either with Out-bidding, false-praises, etc. are called Goads.  
4 The hoys, striplings, etc. that have the riding of the jades vy and down, are called Skip-iackes.     

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. XI.  
HOw many Trees of Evil are growing in this country, 
Terramalos homines nunc educat.  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 which a soul may sail to damnation, as there are Black 
Noxia mill modis Laceae. bitur umbra.  Streams of Mischief and Villainy (besides all those which in our Now-two Voyages we have ventured so many leagues up, for discovery) in which thousands of people are continually swimming, and every 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 Horse-manship (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 afternoon (with the self-same Gelding) to win a thousand marks in five or six 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 bribe of forty 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, and 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 test 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 lupi laevae plus feritatis 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 
jack in a Box described.  the head of a man (the face well bearded) the eyes of a 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 grayhound, 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 it is thought that his next hunting shall be between Lumbard-streete and the Gold smiths Row in Cheadeside. Thus much for his outward parts, now you shall have him vnriped, 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 Gold. 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-peeces) 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 
Sitiens fugientia captat Flumina: quid rides? mutato 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 expired, 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 is 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 of his fingers another Box of the Tame metal and making, that the former bears, which second Box is filled only with shillings and being poized 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, mindeth thirty or forty shilling 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 said 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 again, 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 is to say, his own Gold,) and forty pound beside of the Shop-kéepers, which he borrowed, the other being 
Multa petentibus desunt multa.  glad to take forty shillings for the whole debt, and 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 an excellent Hen of the Game. It is a knot of Cheators but newly tied, they are not yet a company. They fly not like Wilde-géeses (in stocks) 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 about 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 Fléete-stréete, Fléete-stréete! how hast thou been trimmed, washed, shaven and Polled, by these dear and damnable Barbers? how often hast thou met with these Sheepe-shearers? how many warm flakes of wool have they pulled from they Back, yet if thy Bleating can make the flocks that graze near unto thee and round about thee, to lift up their eyes, & to shun such Wolves and Foxes, when they are approaching, or to have them worryed 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 Fléete-stréete) 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 travail without charges.  pricks hath beaten but a path, teaching how a men 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 rides, upon his own bare credit, not caring whether he travel to meet the Sun at this Rising, or at his going down. He knows his Kitchen smokes in every county, and his table is covered in every Shire. For when he comes within a mile of the Town, where he means to catch Quails, 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 had been disarmed. And you must note, that this Hotspur 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 and 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 fornies' 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, and 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 is 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 Falsegalloper, 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 Inn till he have fetched over the Master or servant for some money (to draw whom to him he hath many hooks) and when they hang 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 Mountibanckes are mere Coozeners, and have not so much skill as Horseléeches. 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 
Strolling schoolmaster.  Writers deserve to have both their names and themselves hung up, in steed of those fair tables which they hang up in Towns, as gay pictures to entice Scholars to them: the Tables are written 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 and 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 is 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 nextiourney was made on foot.   

The Bel-mans' 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 Suburbs, was glad when he saw night having put on the vizard that Hell lends 
invidia nigris restibus, currum insilit Nox.  her (called darkness to leap into 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 foul weather (which he foretold) fell out accordingly. For candlelight had scarce opened his eye (to look at the City, like a gunner shooting at a mark,) but fearfully (their feet trembling under them) their eyes suspiciously rolling from every nook to nook round 
Noctis & erebi progenies sunt Dolus, Metus, Miseria, Fraus, Querelae etc. 〈…〉 3. De Nat. Deorum.  about them, and their heads (as if they stood upon oiled screws) still turning back behind them, came creeping out of hollow trees, 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 being 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 and down like proud Tragedians. O what thanks they gave to Darkness! what 
* Non verenda, verenda, etc.  songs they balladed out in praise of Night, for bestowing upon them so excellent a cloak, wherein they might so safely walk muffled▪ Now durst they, as if they had been Constables, rap aloud at the doors of those to whom they owed most money, and 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, and pay both Drawers and Fiddlers after midnight with other men's money, and then march home again fearless of the blows that any showlder-clapper durst give them. 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 in former times, their villainies had entered.  
Not far from These, came crawling out of their bushes a company of grave and wealthy Lechers, in the shapes of Glow-worms, who with Gold, jyngling in their pockets, made such a show in the night, that the doors of 
Sapiens in munera venit adultor, Praebuit ipsa sinus. Neo polisti metuunt Deos nec hos respcere Deos opinor.  Common Brothelryes flew open to receive them, though in the day time they durst not pass that way, for fear that noted Currizans 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, least boys should with two fingers point at them for living basely upon the prostitution of their wives bodies, cared not now, before candlelight to shoot out their largest 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 and dimmer, and he at last falling stark blind, Lucifer's Watchman went stumbling 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 like one Bed, and all in that Bed were sound cast into a sleep. 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 do, our Spy, that came lately out of the Lowercountries, stole into one of their Circles, where lurking very closely, he perceived that when all the guests were profoundly sleeping, when Carriers were sound snorting, and not so much as the chamberlain of the house 
The knavery. of Hostlars.  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 on his feet, & 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 Horse looked very ruefully upon him for this, but he rubbing their teeth only with the end of a Candle (in steed of a Coral) 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 Couch, till break of day: yet fearing lest the sun should rise to discover his knavery, up he started, and 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 ear none; which their masters in the morning 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 Midwives 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 at sea, or in the wars) having wrestled with bachelors 
Matronaque rara pudica est.  or married men, till they caught falls, lay safely till they were delivered of them. And for reasonable sums of 
saepe solent auro multa subesse malâ.  money, the bastards that at these windows crept into the world, were as closely now and then sent presently out of the 
* Pectora tantis obsessa malis.  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 
Non sunt ictu serienda levi.  the arrows of the plague stuck half way, yet by cruelll masters were they drived out of doors at midnight and conveyed to Garden-houses, where they either died before 
Quisprodere tanta relatis 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 purloying farthels of their masters goods, & 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 or five goodnights 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 rang forth loud and lusty Plaudities. But being driven into wonder why the night would fall in labour, and bring forth so many Villainies, 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 Belman, 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: though Mariner of hell, opened his chart, which he had lined with all abuses, lying 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 Belman 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 dedicates 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,     
here endeth the Belman.   

O per se O.  
LONDON: Printed for john Busbie, and are to be sold at his shop in Fleetestreet in S. Dunstan's Churchyard. 1612.   

O, per se O.  
ANd so Good-morrow (Goodman Belman of London:) your Night-piece is drawn, and my Day-worke is now to begin. Let my morning therefore I pray you be your midnight, and now when all others rise to go to their labours, (who could scarce sleep by reason of the noise you made with your Clapper) get you to your bed, and dream upon your pillow upon some new discovery. In that Map of Villainies, which you have drawn in Print already, I like the handling of your Pencil, but not the laying on of your colours: they are smooth enough, but you have not given them their true Swéetning, Heightening, and Shadowing. But I cannot blame you, because nocte latent mendae, Women, Horses and Colours are not to be chosen by candlelight: and you (Gaffer Bellman) having no better guide, it is a wonder you stumbled no wore, considering you walked i'th' dark. If therefore by my spectacles (being clearer than yours) I have discovered more nests of Blackbirds, (I mean more Villainies of the Devils own hatching) then ever flew to your ●●st, and were sold afterwards to sing in Shops in Paul's Churchyard, it ought not to raise up your collar an inch higher for all that, sithence in both our Land-discoveries our sails are hoisted up only to do good to the Commonwealth, and because the Notes which I sing may appear to be of mine own setting, and not either borrowed or stolen from any other. You shall know that serving (in the late queens time) many years together in the office of an High-Constable, in that County, wherein I now dwell, I drew from the examination of such lewd persons as came before me, the truth of all those villains which here I publish.  
In the mustering of this damned Regiment, I found, that whether they were Rogues taken in Romboyles (that is to say, in Watches or Wards) by the Petty Harman Beck, (who in their Company, signifies a petty Constable) or whether they were such as in the Canting tongue are called Mawnderers (of begging or demanding,) whether they lived in Bousing Kennes (Alehouses) or what other course thread of life soever any of them all spun, it was ever wound in a black bottom of the most pernicious making up that the Devil could teach them: insomuch that albeit the very Sunbeams could possibly have written down the discovery of any gross villainies, by them committed, they would as easily venture upon damning, in denial of it with oats, as if there had been no hell for such offenders.  
For my better painting forth these Monsters, I once took one of them into my service (being a sturdy, biglimde young fellow) of him I desired some knowledge in their gibberish, but he swore he could not Cant, yet his Roague-ship seeing himself used kindly by me, would now and then shoot out a word of Canting, and being thereupon asked why with oaths he denied it before, he told me, that they are sworn never to disclose their skill in Canting to any Housholder, for if they do, the other Mawnderers or Rogues, Mill them (kill them,) yet he for his part (he said) was never sworn, because he was a Clapperdogeon, that is to say, a Begger-borne. This Clapperdogeon stayed with me so long as he durst, and then bingd a waste in a darkmans, stool away from me in the night time. So that what intelligence I got from him, or any other trained up in the same Rudiments of Roguery, I will briefly, plainly, and truly set down, as I had it from my Devilish Schoolmaster, whom I call by the name of O per se O.  
Of him I learned, that the cause why so many of this wicked Generation wander up and down this Kingdom is, the free command, and abundant use they have of Women: for if you note them well, in their marching, not a Tatterdemalion walks his round, (be he young, be he old) but he hath his Mort, or his Doxy at his heels, (his Woman, or his Whore) for in hunting of their Rascall-déere this Law they hold, when they come to strike a do, if she will not wap for a win; let her Trine for a make, if she will not— O per se O for a penny, let her hang for a halfpenny.  
And this liberty of Wenching is increased by the almost infinite numbers of tippling houses, called Bousing Kennes, or of Stalling Kennes, that is to say, houses where they have ready money for any stolen goods: unto which nests, birds fly of the same feather, that the owner is of: for if the Ale-seller, be a Horse-stealer, a Cutpurse, a Robber by the High way, a Cheater, etc. of the same coat are his guests. These houses are the Nurseries of Rogues and Thorues: for how could they bestow cloaks, sheeets, shirts, and other garments being stolen, if they had not Stalling Kennes to receive them? Why should Grunters (Pigs) go whining out of the world, having their throats cut by Rogues, if they had not Bousing Kennes to eat them in? In the Ceremony of whose ragged Assemblies, the Bellman a little mistook himself, for Driggers, Filchers and Cloyers being all (in English) Stealers, use neither roast-meat, nor spits in their Feast, as he furnisheth them, but when they intend to strike a hand, they levy their damnable troops in the day, but they sally forth, & share the spoils in the night. For some one sturdy hellhound above the rest, undertakes to be the Miller) that is to say, the Killer:) I hope this can be no disgrace to any honest Miller, who is no thief with a false Hopper) And this Killer brings to the flaughter-house of the Devil (viz. a Bousing Ken) a Bleating Chete, (a Sheep) Another, Mils a Crackmans', breaks a hedge, and that wood heats the Oven, whilst the Sheep is dressed, cut in pieces, and put into earthen Pots, made for the purpose to bake their victuals in. The Ovens mouth being thus daubed up, out fly the little Devils (more damned than the Oven) either to break an house some two or three miles off, or to do as bad a Villainy. The piece of Service being performed, a Retreat is sounded, and about midnight they return merrily, fall to their good-cheare manfully, and then divide their spoils of stolen shirts, smocks, or any thing else, most théevishly. In which Partnership the Host and Hostess are chief sharers, but such subtle shop-kéepers are these Haberdasher's of the devils small Wares, that they never set out to sell, but when the coast is clear, and that (as thieves do among Brokers) the Hue and Cries throat be stopped that went bawling after them: for about a seven-night after, (when all is hushd) to the Stalling Ken goes the Duds for Louvre, to the théeving house are the stolen clothes sent roundly for money: which being told out and divided, away fly these Ravens scatteringly, the next prey that they light upon, being ever at some Fair, or else a market.  
And now that we talk of Fairs, let my pen gallop over a few lines, and it shall bring you (without spurring) swiftlier into Glocesser-shire, then if you road upon Pacolet: there if you please to alight near Tewksbury, at a place called Durrest-Fayre, (being kept there upon the two Holy-Roode days) you shall see more Rogues, than ever were whipped at a Carts-arse through London, and more Beggars than ever came dropping out of Ireland. If you look upon them, you would think you lived in Henry the sixth time, and that jack Cade, and his rebellious rag-amuffins were there mustering. Dunkirk cannot show such sharks. The wild Irish are but flocks of wilde-géeses to them. And these swarms of Locusts come to this lowste Fair, from all parts of the Land, within an hundred miles compass. To describe the Booths is lost labour, for let the Hangman show but his wardrobe, and there is not a rag difference between them. None here stands crying, What do you lack? for you can ask for nothing that is good, but here it is lacking. The Buyers and Sellers are both alike, tawny Sunne-burnt Rasealds, and they flock in such troops, that it shows as if hell were broke loose. The Shoppe-kéepers are thieves, and the Chapmen Rogues, Beggars and Whores: so that to bring a purse-full of money hither, were madness: for it is sure to be cut.  
But would you know what Wares these Merchants of Eele-skinnes utter? only Duds for the Quarrons, that is to say, clothes for the body, which they have pilfered from hedges or houses. And this filthy Fair begins before day, and endeth before nine in the same morning: at which breaking up, they do not presently march away with their bags and their baggages, but he who is chosen the Lord of the Fair, (who is commonly the lustiest Rogue in the whole Bunch) leads his ●ottered footmen and foote-women from Alehouse, to Alehouse, where being armed all in Ale-of-proofe, and their Ben Bowse (the strong Liquor) causing them to have Nase Nabs (drunken Coxcombs) up fling they the Cans, down go the Booths, about ●●ye broken jugges: here lies a Rogue bleeding, there is a ●ort cursing, here a Doxy stabbing with her knife: and thus this Fair which begins merrily, ends madly: for Knaves set it up, and Queans pull it down.  
Yet to meet at this assembly, (how far off soever they be) they will keep their day, though they hop thither upon one crutch: and it is for seven causes that thus they bestir their stumps to be at this upsitting, which are these, viz.  
1 Every one as his Roague-shippe is of bulk, or can best swagger, desireth to be chosen Lord of the Fayrs: or if he lose his Lordship, yet to be a retainer at least, and to fight under his tottered colours.  
2 To meet with the Sisterhood and Brotherhood of Whores and Wallet-mongers.  
3 To share such money as is taken for (Duds and Cheats won) clothes and things stolen.  
4 To know how the world goes abroad, what news in the Deusuile, (the Country, and where is Benship, (Good) or where (Choir) nought.  
5 To be Bowsie (drunken) for company.  
6 To bandy their tawny and weather-beaten forces of Mawderers (being of their own Fraternity) against any other troup of Mountebanks, at any other Fair or Market, where the lowesis Rendezvous is to be made.  
7 Lastly, to enact new warm orders, for fresh stealing of clothes, etc. with all manner of Armour for the body, but especially, Stamps (Shoes) because (being Beggars) they are seldom set on horseback.  
These are the seven halters that draw these Hellhounds to this Fair, for the least of which seven, they will venture a hanging.  
The Fair is broken up, and because it is their fashion at the trushing up of their packs, to trudge away merrily, I will here teach you what O per se O is, being nothing else but the burden of a Song, set by the Devil, and sung by his Choir: of which I will set no more down but the beginning, because the middle is detestable, the end abominable, and all of it damnable▪  
Thus it sounds:  

Wilt thou a begging go,  
O per se, O. O per se, O.  
Wilt thou a begging go?  
Yes verily, yea.  
Then thou must God forsake,  
and to stealing thee betake.  
O per se, O. O per se, O.  
Yes verily yea, etc.   
This is the Music they use in their Libkens (their lodgings) where thirty or forty of them being in a swarm, one of the Master Devils sings, and the rest of his damned crew follow with the burden: In which midnight Catter-wallings of theirs, nothing is heard but cursing and profanation, and such swearing, as if they were all Knights of the Post. Iewes did never crucify Christ with more dishonour, than these rakehells, who with new invented fearful oaths tear him in pieces: and no marvel, for most of those who are Beggars borns, are never Christened: beside, they have in their Canting, a word for the Devil, or the plague, etc. as Ruffian for the one, and Cannikin for the other: but for God they have none: only they name him, but it is not in reverence, but abuse: all their talk in their nasty Libk●ns, (where they lie like Swine) being of nothing, but Wapping, Niggling, Prigging, Cloying, Filching, Cursing, and such stuff. Who therefore would pity such impostors, whose faces are full of dissembling, hearts of villainy, mouths of curses, bodies of sores (which they call their great Cleymes) but laid upon their flesh by cunning▪ whose going Abram (that is to say naked) is not for want of clothes, but to stir up men to pity, and in that pity to cousin their devotion: now whereas the Belman (in his privy search) found out the nests of these Scréech-Owles, pulling off some of their feathers, only to show their ugliness, but for want of good and perfect eye sight, not bleaing off their skins, as I here purpose to do, and so to draw blood. I will finish that which the Bellman (by being overwatchd) left lame, and show those abuses naked to the world, which he never discovered.  
First therefore shall you behold the Abram-man in his true colours, his right shape, his own rags, and then shall you hear the phrase of his Mawnd or Begging.  
Next him comes marching the Counterfeit Soldier, with his Mawnding note too. At his tail follow Ben-feakers of jybes, (that is to say) Counterfeiters of Passports.  
Then Dommerars.  
Then Clapperdogeons in their true habiliments, and their true beggarly Rhetoric they use in begging.  
Then will I show you how they hang together in Fraternities, and what Articles of Brotherhood they are sworn too: with a note (as good as any Rogues mark they carry about them) how to know these Knots of Knaves, or these Brotherhoods, their Names, their Libkins, or Lodgins, their Stawling Kennes, to which all stolen goods are brought. And lastly, to show you that even in their mirth they are Devils, you shall hear their true Canting Songs now used among them.  
In setting down all which hidden villainies, (never till this day discovered) you shall find a mixture not only of all those detestable subtleties, used in making those Soars which eat into their flesh, but also the tricks and medicines they have (without help of Surgeons) to cure them. I will beside (in their descriptions) here and there stick words and phrases of their gibberish or beggarly language, giving them the stamp presently of true English, which labour I take of purpose to procure delight to the Reader.  

Of the Abram, his description.  
THe Abram Cove, is a lusty strong Rogue, who walketh with a Slade about his Quarrous (a sheet about his body) Trining, hanging to his hams, bandeliere-wise, for all the world as Cutpurses and thieves wear their sheeets to the Gallows, in which their Tru●s are to bury them: oftentimes (because he scorns to follow any fashions of Hose,) he goes without breeches, a cut jerkin with hanging fléeves (in imitation of our Gallants,) but no Sa●tin or Chamblet elbows, for both his legs and arms are bare, having no Commission to cover his body, that is to say, no shirt: A face staring like a Saracen, his hair long and filthily knotted, for he keeps no Barber: a good Filch (or Staff) of grown Ash, or else hazel, in his Famble (in his Hand) and sometimes a sharp stick, on which he hangeth Ruffe-pecke (Bacon.) These, walking up and down the Country, are more terribly to women and Children, than the name of Rawhead and Bloodybones, Robin Goodfellow, or any other Hobgoblin Crackers tied to a dogs tail, make not the poor Cur run faster, than these Abram Ninnies do the silly Villages of the Country, so that when they come to any door a begging, nothing is devyed them.   

Their Marks.  
SOme of these abram's have the Letters E. and R. upon their arms: some have Crosses, and some other mark, all of them carrying a blue colour: some wear an iron ring, etc. which marks are printed upon their flesh, by tying their arm hard with two strings three or feure inches asunder, and then with a sharp Awl pricking or raizing the skin, to such a figure or print as they best fancy, they rub that place with burnt paper, piss and Gunpowder, which being hard rubbed in, and suffered to dry, sticks in the flesh a long time after, when these marks fail, they renew them at pleasure. If you examine them how these Letters or Figures are printed upon their arms, they will tell you it is the Mark of Bedlam, but the truth is, they are made as I have reported.  
And to colour their villainy the better, every one of these abram's hath a several gesture in playing his part: some make an horrid noise, hollowly sounding: some whoop, some hollow, some show only a kind of wild distracted ugly look, uttering a simple kind of Mawnding, with these addition of words (Well and Wisely.) Some dance, (but keep no measure) others leap up and down, and fetch Gambols, all their actions show them to be as drunk as Beggars: for not to belie them, what are they but drunken Beggars? All that they beg being either Louvre or Bouse, (money or drink.)   

Their Mawnd, or Begging.  
THe first begins Good Vrship. Master, or good Vrships Rulers of this place, bestow your reward on a poor man that hath lain in Bedlam without Bishopsgate three years, four months, and nine days, And bestow one piece of your small silver towards his fees, which he is indebted there, the sum of three pounds, thirteen shillings, seven pence, halfpenny, (or to such effect,) and hath not wherewith to pay the same, but by the good help of Vrshipfull and well disposed people, and God to reward them for it.  
The second begins: Now Dame, well and wisely: what will you give poor Tom now? one pound of your sheeps feathers to make poor Tom a blanket: or one cutting of your Sow side, no bigger than my arm, or one piece of your Salt meat to make poor Tom a sharing horn: or one cross of your small silver towards the buying a pair of Shoes, (well and wisely:) Ah, God bless my good Dame (well and wisely) give poor Tom an old sheet to keep him from the cold, or an old doublet, or jerkin of my Masters, God save his life.  
Then will he dance and sing, or use some other Antic, and ridiculous gesture, shutting up his counterfeit Puppet-play, with this Epilogue or Conclusion, Good Dame give poor Tom one cup of the best drink, (well and wisely,) God save the King and his Counsel, and the Governor of this place, etc.   

Of Counterfeit Soldiers.  
THese may well be called Counterfeit Soldiers, for not one (scarce) among the whole Army of them, ever discharged so much as a Caliner: nothing makes them Soldiers but old Mandelions, which they buy at the Brokers. The weapons they carry are short Crabtrée Cudgels: and these, (because they have the name of Soldiers,) never march but in troops two or three in a company: of all sorts of Rogues these are the most impudent and boldest, for they knock at men's doors, as if they had serious business there, whereas the door being opened to them, they begin this parley.   

Their Mawnding.  
GEntle Rulers of this place, bestow your reward upon poor Soldiers, that are utterly maimed and spoiled in her majesties late wars, as well for God's cause as her Majesties and yours. And bestow one piece of your small silver upon poor men, or somewhat towards a meals meat, to succour them in the way of truth, etc. for God's cause.  
These Fellows go commonly hurt in the left arm, beneath the elbow, having a jybe ierked, (that is to say, a Passport sealed) with licence to depart the colours, (under which if you rightly examine them, they never fought,) yet wheresoever the wars are, and how far off soever, thus can they wound themselves at home.   

Their making of their Soars.  
TAke vnslaked lime and Soap, with the rust of old iron: these mingled together, and spread thick on two pieces of leather which are clap upon the arm, one against the other: two small pieces of wood (fitted to the purpose) holding the leathers down, all which are bound hard to the arm with a Garter: which in a few hours fretting the skin with blisters, and being taken off, the flesh will appear all raw, than a linen cloth being applied to the raw blistered flesh, it sticks so fast, that upon plucking it off, it bleeds: which blood (or else some other,) is rubbed all over the arm, by which means (after it is well dried o●) the arm appears black, and the soar raw and reddish, but white about the edges like an old wound: which if they desire to heal, a brown paper with butter and ware being applied, they are cured: And thus (without weapon) do you see how our Mawndering Counterfeit Soldiers come maimed.   

Of placing their Soars.  
THe Soldier hath his soar always on his left arm, (unless he be left-handed, for then because of the better use of that hand it is upon the right) betwixt the elbow and the wrest, and is called by the name of Soldiers Mawnd.  
When a soar is placed on the back of the hand, and that he saith he was hurt by an horse, than it is called Footman's Mawnd.  
When the soar is above the elbow, as if it were broken, or hurt by falling from a Scaffold, it is called Masons Maund. And thus the altering the place of the soar altereth the Mawnd.  
Of these counterfeit Soldiers, some of them being examined, will say they were lately serving-men, but their Master being dead, and the Household dispersed, they are compelled to this baseness of life for want of means. Some of them can play the Abram, (be mad Toms,) or else beg Rum Mawnd (counterfeit to be a Fool) or else that his tongue is tied, and cannot speak, and such like.   

Of Ben-feakers of jybes.  
THey who are Counterfeiters of Passports, are called Ben-feakers, that is to say, Good-makers': and these makers (like the devils Hackney-men) lie lurking in every Country, to send his Messengers p●ste to hell. The best Passports that ever I saw, were made in S. shire, with the hand of one M. W. subscribed unto them. There was another excellent Ben-feaker about P. a Town in G. shire. In S. dwelled another, who took two shillings and sire pence (two Boards and sire Wins,) or two Boards and a Flag, for every Passport that went out of his beggarly Office: he counterfeited the Seal of L. D.  
Of these Ben-feakers I could say much more, if I would be counted a blab: but now the very best of them are made in L. to carry men from thence unto W.   

How to know counterfeit Passports.  
THe Seals of Noblemen, Gentlemen, justices, or any other who have authority to use Seals, are graven in Silver, Copper, or some hard stuff: and those things which are so graven seal the Arms or such like with sharp edges, and with a round circle enclosing it, as if it were cut with an instrument of Steel, and it maketh a neat and deep impression: but these counterfeit jerkes (or Seals) are graven with the point of a knife, upon a sticks end, whose roundness may well be perceived from the circle of a common turned Seal: these for the most part bearing the ill favoured shape of a Buhars Nab, or a Prancers Nab (a dogs head, or a Horses,) and sometimes an Unicorns, and such like: the Counterfeit jerk having no Circle about the edges. Besides, in the Passport you shall lightly find these words, viz. For Solomon saith; Who giveth the poor, dareth the Lord, etc. And that Constables shall help them to lodgings: And that Curates shall persuade their Parishioners, etc.  
Another note is, let them be in what part of the Land soever they will, yet have they an hundred miles to go at least: every one of them having his Doxy at his heels. And thus much of Ben-feakers.   

Of Dommerars.  
THe Bellman took his marks amiss in saying that a Dommerar is equal to the Cranke, for of these Dommerars I never met but one, and that was at the house of one M. L. of L. This Dommerars name was W. he made a strange noise, showing by fingers across, that his tongue was cut out at Cha●ke-hill. In his hand he carried a stick, about a foot in length, and sharp at both ends, which he would thrust into his mouth, as if he meant to show the show of his tongue. But in doing so, he did of purpose hit his tongue with the stitch to make it bleed, which filling up his month, you could not for blood perceive any tongue at all, because he had turned it upwards, and with his stick thrust it into his throat. But I caused him to be held fast by the strength of men, until such time that opening his teeth with the end of a small cudgel, I plucked forth his tongue, and made him speak.   

Of Clapperdogeons.  
A Clapperdogeon is in English a Beggar borne: some call him a Pallyard: of which sorts there are two: first, Natural: secondly, Artificial. This fellow (above all other that are in the Regiment of Rogues) goeth best armed against the cruelty of Winter: he should be wise, for he loves to keep himself warm, wearing a patched Castor (a Cloak) for his upper robe: under that a Togmans' (a Gown) with high Stampers (shoes) the soles an inch thick pegged, or else patches at his Girdle, ready to be clapped on: a great Scue (a brown dish) hanging at his girdle, and a tassel of Thrums to wipe it. A brace of greasy Nightcaps on his head, and over them (lest he should catch a knavish cold) a hat, (or Nabcheate,) a good Filch (or Staff) in his hand, having a little iron peg in the end of it: a Bugher (a little Dog) following him, with a smug Dorie, attired fit for such a Rooguish Companion. At her back she carrieth a great pack, covered with a patched Saveguard, under which she conveyeth all such things as she filcheth: her skill sometimes is to tell Fortunes, to help the diseases of Women or Children. As she walks, she makes balls or shirtstrings, (but now commonly they knit) and wears in her hat a needle with a thread at it. An excellent Angler she is: for when her Cove mawnds at any door, if any Poultrie-ware be picking up their crumbs near them, she feedeth them with bread, and hath a thread tied to a hooked pin, baited for the nonce, which the Chicken swallowing is choked, and conveyed under the Castor: Chickens, linen or woollen, or any shing that is worth the catching, comes into her net.  
Under this Banner of the patched Clapperdogeon, do I levy all Pallyards, as well those of the great Cleyme, (or Soars,) as others, whom I term Artificial Clapperdogeons, albeit they are not Beggersborue.   

Of their Mawnd.  
THis Pallyard (or Artifieiall Clapperdogeon, who carrieth about him the great Cleyme) to stir compassion up in people's hearts, thus acteth his part: He slides to the earth by his staff, and lying piteously on the ground, makes a fearful horrid strange noise, through an hoarse throat uttering these lamentable tunes: Ah the urship of God look out with your mereifull eyen, one pitiful look upon sore, lame, grieved and impudent (for impotent) people, sore troubled with the grievous disease, and have no rest day nor night by the Canker and Worm, that continually eateth the flesh from the bone: for the Vrship of God bestow one Cross of your small silver; to buy him salve and ointment, to ease the poor wretched body; that never taketh rest: and 〈…〉 to reward you for it in heaven. These Pallyards walk two or three together, and as one gives over this note, the second catcheth it at the rebound, using the self-same howling and grunting, which ended, they say the Lords Prayer, and in many places the ave, never ceasing till something be given them.   

How they make their great Soars, called the great Cleyme.  
THey take Crow-foote, Sperewort, and Salt, and bruising these together, they lay them upon the place of the body which they desire to make sore: the skin by this means being fretted, they first clap a linen cloth, till it stick fast, which plucked off, the raw flesh hath Ratsbane thrown upon it, to make it look ugly: and then cast over that a cloth, which is always bloody and filthy, which they do so often, that in the end in this hurt they feel no pain, neither desire they to have it healed, but with their Doxies will travel (for all their great Cleymes) from Fair to Fair, and from Market to Market, being able by their Mawnding to get five Boards (that is, five shillings) in a week, in money and Corne. Which money they hide under blue and green patches: so that sometimes they have about them, six pound or seven pound together.  
The Clapperdogeons that have not the great Cleyme, are called Farmarly Beggars.   

Of their Fraternities.  
THere is no lusty Rogue, but hath many both sworn Brothers, and the Morts his sworn Sisters: who vow themselves body and soul to the Devil to perform these ten Articles, following, viz.   

Articles of their Fraternities.  

1 THou shalt my true Brother be, keeping thy faith to thy other Brothers (as to myself) if any such thou have.  
2 Thou shalt keep my counsel, and all other my brothers, being known to thee.  
3 Thou shalt take part with me, and all other my brothers in all matters.  
4 Thou shalt not hear me ill spoken of without revenge to thy power.  
5 Thou shalt see me want nothing, to which thou canst help me.  
6 Thou shalt give me part of all thy win whatsoever.  
7 Thou shalt not but keep true pointments with me for meetings, be it by day or night, at what place soever.  
8 Thou shalt teach no Housholder to Cant, neither confess any thing to them, be it never so true, but deny the same with oaths.  
9 Thou shalt do no hurt to any Mawnder, but with thine own hands: and thou shalt forbear none that disclose these secrets.  
10 Thou shalt take clothes, Hens, Geese, Pigs, Bacon, and such like, for thy Win, wherever thou canst have them.    

How to know their Brotherhoods.  
WHen at the end of a Town, wherein a Fair or Market is kept, you see an assembly of them together chiding & brawling, but not fight, than those Coves are sworn brothers. If likewise two Doxies fall together by the ears, whilst the Rogues themselves stand by and fight not, that also is a Brotherhood: for it is one branch of their Laws to take part with their Doxies in any wrong.   

Of their Names.  
EVery one of them hath a peculiar Nicke-name, proper to himself, by the which he is more known, more inquired after by his brothers, and in common familiarity more saluted, then by his own true name: yea, the false is used so much that the true is forgotten. And of these Nicknames, some are given to them for some special cause: as Olli Compolli, is the Byname of some one principal Rogue amongst them, being an Abram, being bestowed upon him, because by that he is known to be the head or chief amongst them: In like manner these Surnames following belong to other Grand Signiors and Commanders, viz. Dimber Damber, and Hurly Burly, General Nurse, The high Shreve, The High Constable, and such like: and some Nicke-names are either upon mockery, or upon pleasure given unto them: as The Great Bull, The little Bull, and many other such like. The great Bull is some one notable lusty Rogue, who gets away all their Wenches: for this Great Bull (by report) had in one year, three and twenty Doxies, (his jockey was so lusty) such liberty have they in sinning, and such damnable and most detestable manner of life do they lead.  
As the men have Nicke-names, so likewise have the Women: for some of them are called The white Ewe, The Lamb, etc. And (as I have heard) there was an Abram, who called his Mort, Madam Wap-apace.   

Of their Libkins or Lodgings.  
AS these fugitive Vagabonds have Nick names to themselves, so have they Libkins, or Lodgings, and places of meeting: as one of the meeting places (as I have heard) bring a Shéepe-cote, is by the Quest of Rogues who nightly assemble there, called by the name of Stophole Abbey: so likewise another of their Lodgings is called by the same name. Then have they others, as the blue Bull, the Prancer, the bulls belly, the cows udder, the green Arbour, the blazing star, etc. Such like By names give they also to their Stawling Kennes: and note this, that after a robbery done, they lie not within twelve miles at the least of the place where they do it, but having eaten up their stolen mutton (baked as aforesaid (away they trudge through thick and thin, all the havens of hell into which they put in, being always for the most part of an equal distance one from another: for look howfarre as the one Stophole Abbey stands from the other, and just so far is the bulls belly from the cows udder, and so of the rest: so that what waysoever these night Spirits do take after they have done their deeds of darkness, they know what pace to keep, because (what storms soever) fall) they are sure of harbour, all their journeys being but of one length. Yet dare they not but let their Morts and their Doxies meet them at some of these places, because how cold soever the weather be, their female furies come hotly and smoking from thence, carrying about them Glymmar in the Prat (fire in the touch-bore) by whose flashes oftentimes there is Glymmar in the jockey, (the flask is blown upto) of which dangerous and deadly skirmishes the fault is laid upon serving-men, dwelling thereabouts, who like Freebooters are so hungry of flesh, that a Doxy (if she have a smug face) cannot peep out, but she is taken up for Hawkes-meate. And it is no wonder, there is such stealing of these wild Bucks, because there is such store of them: nor is it a marvel there is such store, sithence he is not held worthy to walk, or to be counted one of the four and twenty Orders, but to be banished (as a silly Animal and a stinkard) from all good fellowship, society, and meetings at Fairs, Markets, and merry Bousing Kennes, who when the Trumpet sounds, (that is to say, when the Cuckoo sings) thrusts not out his head like a Snail out of his shell, and walks not abroad about the Deusuile (the Country) with his spirit of Lechery and théeving, (his Doxy) at his heels.   

Why the Staff is called a Filch.  
THus much for their Fraternities, Names, Lodgings, and Assemblies, at all which times every one of them carries a short staff in his hand, which is called a Filch, having in the Nab or head of it, a Farm (that is to say, a hole) into which upon any piece of service, when he goes a Filching; he putteth a hoake of iron, with which hook he angel's at a window in the dead of night, for shirts, smocks, or any other linen or woollen: and for that reason is the staff termed a Filch. So that it is as certain that he is an Angler for Duds, who hath a Farm in the Nab of his Filch, as that he is a thief, who upon the highway cries stand, and takes a purse. This Staff serveth to more uses, then either the cross-staff or the jacobs, but the uses are not so good nor so honest: for this Filching-staffe being artificially handled, is able now and then to mill a Grunter, a bleating Cheat, a Redshank, a Tib of the Buttery, and such like, or to Fib a Coves Quarrons in the Rome-pad, for his Louvre in his bung, that is to say, to kill a Pig, a Sheep, a Duck, a Goose, and such like, or to beat a man by the highway for the money in his purse. And yet for all these base villainies and others, of what blackness soever they be, you shall at every Assizes and Sessions, see swarms of them boldly venturing amongst the Prisoners: one cause of their tempting their own danger so, is, that being sworn brothers in league, and partnerts' in one and the same théevery, it behooves them to listen to the Prisoners confession (which they do secretly) and so to take their heels, if they spy a storm coming. Another cause is, to learn what time-twigges caught the Bird i'th' Cage, and how he was entangled by the justice in his examination, that thereby he abroad may shun the like: but the Devil is their Tutor, Hell their School, Théevery, Roguery and Whoredom the Arts they Study, before Doctor Story they dispute, and at the Gallows are made Graduates of Newgate and other gaols, (the Hangman's Colleges.) To shut up this feast merrily, (as sweet meats are best last,) your last dish which I set before you, to digest the hardness of the rest, is a Canting Song, not feigned or composed as those of the Bel-mans' were, out of his own brain, but by the Canters themselves, and sung at their meetings.   

The Canting Song.  

1  
B'ing out bien Morts, and tour, and tour,  
b'ing out bien Morts and tour:  
For all your Duds are bingd awaste,  
the bien Cove hath the louvre.   

2  
I met a Dell, I viewed her well,  
she was benship to my watch:  
So she and I, did stall and cloy  
what ever we could catch.   

3  
This Doxy dell, can cut bien whids,  
and wap well for a win:  
And prig and cloy so benshiply,  
all the Dewse-avile within.   

4  
The boil was up, we had good luck,  
in frost, for and in snow:  
When they did seek, than we did creep,  
and plant in ruffe-mans' low.   

5  
To Stawling Ken, the Mort bings then,  
to fetch louvre for her cheats:  
Duds and Ruffe-pecke, rumboild by Harman beck,  
and won by Mawnders feats.   

6  
You Mawnders all, stow what you stall,  
to Rome-coves watch so choir:  
And wapping Dell, that niggles well,  
and takes louvre for her hire.   

7  
And jybe well jerkt, tick room comfeck,  
for back by glymmar to maund:  
To mill each Ken, let cove b'ing then,  
through ruffe-mans' lague or launde.   

8  
Till Cramprings quire, tip Cove his hire,  
and quire ken do them catch:  
A canniken; mill quire Cuffen,  
so quire to been coves watch.   

9  
Bein darkmans then, bouse, mort and ken,  
the bien coue's bingd a waist:  
On chates to trine, by Rome-coves dine,  
for his long lib at last.   

10  
Bingd out bien morts, and tour, and tour,  
b'ing out of the Rome-vile:  
And tour the cove, that cloyed your duds,  
upon the chates to trine.   
FINIS.   

Thus for satisfaction of the Readers, Englished.  

1  
Go forth (brave girls) look out, look out,  
look out I say (good Coneys)  
For all your clothes are stolen (I doubt)  
mad shavers share the moneys.   

2  
I met a Drab, I liked her well,  
(my bowls did fit her alley:)  
We both did vow to rob pellmell,  
and so abroad did sally.   

3  
This bouncing Trull can rarely talk,  
a penny will make her—:  
Through any town which she doth walk,  
nought can her filching escape.   

4  
The house being raizde aside we stepped,  
and through the mire did wade:  
To avoid Hue and Cry, to a hedge we crept,  
and under it close were laid.   

5  
Tothth' Brokers then my hedge-bird flies,  
for stolen goods bringing coin:  
Which (though the Constable after hies)  
our tricks away purloin.   

6  
You mawnding rogues, how you steal beware  
for privy search is made:  
Take heed thou to, (thou hackney-mare)  
whone'er art ridden, but paid.   

7  
A Licence got with counterfeit Seal  
to beg (as if undone  
By fire) to break each house, and steal,  
o'er hedge and ditch then run.   

8  
Till Shackles sound pay us home,  
and to the jail compel us:  
Ill may the justice ever thrive,  
so cruel to Good Fellows.   

9  
Sweet Punk, béere-house, & beer, good night,  
the honest rogue's departed  
To hanging, (by the justice spite)  
to his long home he's carted.   

10  
Away sweet Ducks, with greedy eyes,  
from London walk up Holborn:  
Sue him who stole your clothes: he flies  
with hempen-wings to Tybourne.    
FINIS.