The pleasant History OF JOHN WINCHCOMB, In his yonguer years called JACK of NEWBERRY, The famous and worthy Clothier of England; declaring his life and love, together with his charitable deeds and great Hospitality.  
And how he set continually five hundred poor people at work, to the great benefit of the Commonwealth.  
Now the tenth time Imprinted, corrected and enlarged by T. D.  Haud curo invidiam. 
LONDON, Printed by H. LOWNES, and are to be sold by Cuthbert Wright in S. bartholomew's, near the entrance into the Hospital. 1626.   

To all famous Clothworkers in England, I wish all happiness of life, prosperity and brotherly affection.  
AMong all manual Arts used in this Land, none is more famous for desert, or more beneficial to the Commonwealth than is the most necessary Art of Clothing. And therefore as the benefit thereof is great, so are the professors of the same to be both loved and maintained. Many wise men therefore, having deeply considered the same, most bountifully have bestowed their gifts for upholding of so excellent a commodity, which hath been, and yet is, the nourishing of many thousands of poor people. Wherefore to you, most worthy Clothiers, do I dedicate this my rude work, which hath raised out of the dust of Forgetfulness a most famous and worthy man, whose name was john Winchcomb, alias jack of Newberie, of whose life and love I have briefly written, and in a plain and humble manner, that it may be the better understood of those for whose sake I took pains to compile it, that is, for the well minded Clothiers; that herein they may behold the great worship and credit which men of this trade have in former time come unto. If therefore it be of you kindly accepted, I have the end of my desire, and think my pains well recompensed: and finding your gentleness answering my hope, it shall move me shortly to set to your sight the long hidden History of Thomas of Redding, George of Gloucester, Richard of Worcester, and William of Salisbury, with diverse others; who were all most notable members in the Commonwealth of this Land, and men of great fame and dignity. In the mean space, I commend you all to the most high God; who ever increase, in all perfection and prosperous estate, the long honoured trade of English-Clothiers.  
Yours in all humble service, T. D.   

THE MOST PLEAsant and delectable History of john Winchcomb, otherwise called jack of Newberie: and first of his love and pleasant life  

CHAP. I.  
IN the days of King Henry the eight, that most noble and victorious Prince▪ in the heginning of his reign, john Winchcomb, a broad cloth Weaver, dwelled in Newberie, a town in Berkshire: who for that he was a man of a merry disposition & honest conversation, was wondrous well-beloved of Rich and Poor, especially, because in every place where he came, he would spend his money with the best, and was not at any time found a churl of his purse. Wherefore being so good a companion, he was called of old and yongue jack of Newberie: a man so generally well known in all his country for his good fellowship, that he could go in no place but he found many acquaintance; by means whereof, jack could no sooner get a Crown, but strait he found means to spend it: yet had he ever this care, that he would always keep himself in comely and decent apparel: neither at any time would he be overcome in drink, but so discreetly behave himself wish honest mirth, and pleasant conceits, that he was every Gentleman's companion.  
After that jack had long led this pleasant life, being (though he were but poor) in good estimation: it was his Master's thance to dye, and his Dame to be a widow, who was a very comely ancient woman, and of reasonable wealth. Wherefore she having a good opinion of her man john▪ committed unto his government the guiding of all her workefolkes for the space of three years together: In which time she found him so careful and diligent, that all things came forward and prospered wondrous well. No man could entice him from his business all the week by all the entreaty they could use: Insomuch that in the end some of the wild youths of the town began to deride and scoff at him.  
Doubtless, quoth one, I think some female spirit hath enchanted jack to his treadles, and conjured him within the compass of his Loom, that he can stir no further. You say true, quoth jack, and if you have the leisure to stay till the Charm be done, the space of six days and slew nights, you shall find me ready to put on my holy-day-apparell, and on Sunday morning for your pains I will give you apot of Ale over against the Maypole. Nay, quoth another, I'll lay my life, that as the Salamander cannot live without the fire, so jack cannot live without the smell of his Dame's smock. And I marvel, quoth jack, that you being of the nature of a Herring (which so soon as he is taken out of the Sea, presently dies) can live so long with your nose out of the pot. Nay jack, leave thy testing, quoth another, and go along with us, thou shalt not stay a jot. And because I will not stay; nor make you a liar (quoth jack) I'll keep me here still: and so farewell.  
Thus than they departed: and after they had for half a score times tried him to this intent, and saw he would not been led by their lure, they left him to his own will. Never thelesse, every Sunday in the afternoon, and every Holiday, jack would keep them company, and be as merry as a Pie, and having still good store of money in his purse, one or other would ever be borrowing of him, but never could he get pennis of it again: which when jack perceived, he would never after carry above twelve pence at once in his purse: and that being spent, he would strait return home merrily, taking his leave of the company in this sort.  

My masters, I thank you, its time to pack home,  
For he that wants money is counted a mome:  
And twelve pence a Sunday being spent in good cheer,  
To fifty two shillings amounts in the year;  
Enough for a Crafts-man that lives by his hands:  
And he that exceeds it, shall purchase no lands.  
For that I spend this day, I'll work hard to morrow.  
For woe is that party that seeketh to borrow.  
My money doth make me full merry to be;  
And without my money none careth for me:  
Therefore wanting money, what should I do here?  
But hast home, and thank you for all my good cheer?   
Thus was jacks good government and discretion noted of the best and substantiallest men of the Town: so that it wrought his great commendations, and his Dame thought herself not a little blest to have such a servant, that was so obedient unto her, and so careful for her profit: for she had never a Prentice that yielded her more obedience than he did, or was more dutiful: so that by his good example, he did as much good as by his diligent labour and painful travail: which his singular virtue being noted by the widow, she began to cast a very good countenance to her man john, and to use very much talk with him in private: and first by way of communication, she would tell unto him what suitors she had, as also the great offers they made her, what gifts they sent her, and the great affection they bore her, craving his opinion in the matter.  
When jack found the favour to be his Dame's Secretary, he thought it an extraordinary kindness: and guessing by the yarn it would prove a good web, began to question with his dame in this sort. Although it becometh not me your servant to pry into your secrets, nor to be busy about matters of your love: yet for so much as it hath pleased you to use conference with me in those causes, I pray you let me entreat you to know their names that be your suitors, and of what profession they be.  
Marry john, faith she, that you shall, and I pray thee take a cushion and sit down by me. Dame, quoth he, I thank you: but there is no reason I should sit on a cushion till I have deserved it. If thou hast not▪ thou mightest have done said she: but some Soldiers never find favour. john replied, that maketh me indeed to want favour: for I never durst try maidens because they seem coy, nor wives for fear of their husbands, nor widows doubting their disdainfulness. Tush john (quoth she) he that fears and doubts womankinds', cannot be counted mankind: and take this for a principle, All things are not as they seem. But let us leave this, and proceed to our former matter. My first suitor dwells at Wallingford, by trade a Tanner, a man of good wealth, and his name is Grafts, of comely personage and very good behaviour, a widower, well thought of among his neighbours: he hath proper land, a fair house well furnished, and never a child in the world, and he loves me passing well. Why then Dame, quoth john, you were best to have him. Is that your opinion quoth she? now trust me, so it is not mine: for I find two special reasons to the contrary: the one is, that he being overworn in years, makes me ever loath to love him: and the other, that I know one nearer hand.  
Believe me dame (quoth jack) I perceive store is no sore, & proffered ware is worse by ten in the hundred than that which is sought: but I pray who is your second suitor? john, quoth she, it may seem immodesty in me to bewray my lover's secrets: yet seeing thy discretion, and being persuaded of thy secrecy. I will show thee: the other is a man of middle years, but yet a Bachelor, by occupation a Tailor, and dwelling at Hungerford: by report a very good husband, such a one as hath crowns good store, and to me he professes much good will: for his person, he may please any woman. I dame, quoth john, because he pleaseth you. Not so, said she, for my eyes are unpartial judges in that case: and albeit my opinion may be contrary to others, if his Art deceive not my eyesight, he is worthy of a good wife, both for his person and conditions. Then trust me Dame (quoth john) for so much as you are without doubt of yourself that you will prove a good wife, and so well persuaded of him, I should think you could make no better a choice▪ Truly john (quoth she) there be also two reasons that move me not to like of him: the one that being so large a ranger, he would at home be a stranger: and the other, that I like better of one nearer hand. Who is that, quoth lack? Saith she, the third Suitor is the Parson of Spinhom-land, who hath a proper living, he is of holy conversation and good estimation. whose affection to me is great. No doubt Dame (quoth john) you may do wondrous well with him, where you shall have no care but to serve GOD, and to make ready his meat. O john (quoth she) the flesh and the spirit agrees not: for he will be so bend to his book, that he will have little mind of his bed: for one months studying for a Sermon, will make him forget his wife a whole year. Truly Dame (quoth john) I must needs speak in his behalf, and the rather, for that he is a man of the Church, and your near neighbour, to whom (as I guess) you bear the best affection: I do not think that he will be so much bound to his book, or subject to the spirit, but that he will remember a woman at home or abroad. Well john (quath she) I wis my mind is not that way: for I like better of one nearer hand. No marvel (quoth lack) you are so peremptory, seeing you have so much choice: but I pray ye Dame (quoth he) let me know this fortunate man that is so highly placed in your favour? john (quoth she) they are worthy to know nothing, that cannot keep something: that man (I tell thee) must go nameless: for he is Lord of my love, and King of my desires: there is neither Tanner, Taylor, nor Parson may compare with him, his presence is a preservative to my health, his sweet smiles my heart's solace, and his words heavenly music to my ears. Why then Dame (quoth john) for your body's health, your heart's joy, and your ears delight, delay not the time, but entertain him with a kiss, make his bed next yours, and chop up the match in the morning. Well, quoth she, I perceive thy consent is quickly got to any, having no care how I am matched so I been matched: I wis, I wis I could not let thee go so lightly, being loath that any one should have thee, except I could love her as well as myself. I thank you for your kindness and good will, good Dame, quoth he, but it is not wisdom for a yongue man that can scantly keep himself▪ to take a wife: therefore I hold it she best way to lead a single life: for I have heard say, that many sorrows follow marriage, especially where want remains: and beside, it is a hard matter to find a constant woman: for as yongue maids are fickle, so are old women jealous: the one a grief too common, the other a torment intolerable. What john (quoth she) consider that maiden's fickleness proceeds of vain fancies, but old women's jealousy of superabounding love: and therefore the more to be borne withal. But Dame, quoth he, many are jealous without cause: for is it sufficient for their mistrusting natures to take exceptions at a shadow, at a word, at a look, at a smile, nay at the twinkle of an eye, which neither man nor woman is able to expel? I knew a woman that was ready to hang herself, for seeing but her husband's shirt hang on a hedge with her maid's smock. I grant that this fury may haunt some, quoth she, yet there been many other that complain not without great cause. Why, is there any cause that should move jealousy, quoth john? I by S. Mary is there, quoth she: for would, it not grieve a woman (being one every way able to delight her husband) to see him for sake her, despise and contemn her, being never so merry as when he is in other company, sporting abroad from morning till noon, from noon till night, and when he comes to bed, if he turns to his wife, it is in such solemness, and wearisome drowsy lameness, that it brings rather loathsomeness than any delight? can you then blame a woman in this case to be angry and displeased? I'll tell you what, among brute beasts it is a grief intolerable: for I heard my Grandam tell, that the Bell-wether of her flock fancying one of the Ewes above the rest, and seeing Gratis the Shepherd abusing her in abominable sort (subverting the law of Nature) could by no means bear that abuse; but watching opportunity for revenge, on a time found the said Shepherd sleeping in the field, and suddenly ran against him in such violent sort, that by the force of his wreathen horns, he beat the brains out of the Shepherd's head and slew him. If then a Sheep could not endure that injury, think not that women are so shéepish to suffer it. Believe me (quoth john) if every horne-maker should be so plagued by a horned beast, there should be less horns made in Newberry by many in a year. But Dame (quoth he) to make an end of this prattle, because it is an argument too deep to be discussed between you and I, you shall hear me sing an old song, and so we will depart to supper.  

A maiden fair I dare not wed,  
For fear to have Actaeon's head.  
A maiden black is often proud:  
A maiden little will be loud.  
A maiden that is high of growth,  
They say is subject unto sloth.  
Thus fair or foul, little or tall,  
Some faults remain among them all:  
But of all the faults that be,  
None is so bad as iealoesie.  
For jealousy is fierce and fell,  
And burns as hot as fire in hell:  
It breeds suspicion without cause,  
And breaks the bonds of reasons laws.  
To none it is a greater foe,  
Than unto those where it doth grow.  
And God keep me both day and night,  
From that fell, fond, and ugly spirit:  
For why? of all the plagues that be,  
The secret plague is jealousy.  
Therefore I wish all women kind,  
Never to bear a jealous mind.   
Well, said john (quoth she) thy song is not so sure, but thy voice is as sweet: but seeing the time agrees with our stomaches, though loath, yet will we give over for this time, and betake ourselves to our suppers. Then calling the rest of her servants, they fell to their meat merrily and after supper, the Goodwife went abroad for her recreation, to walk a while with one of her neighbous. And in the mean space john got him up into his chamber, and there began to meditate on this matter, bethinking with himself what he were best to do: for well he perceived that his Dame's affection was great towards him: knowing therefore the woman's disposition, and withal, that her estate was reasonable good, and considering beside, that he should find a house ready furnished, servant's ready taught, and all other things for his trade necessary, he thought it best not to let slip that good occasion, lest he should never come to the like. But again, when he considered her years to been unfitting to his youth, and that she that sometime had been his Dame, would (perhaps) disdain to been governed by him that had been her poor servant, and that it would prove but a bad bargain, doubting many inconueniencies that might grow thereby, he therefore resolved to be silent, rather than to proceed further: wherefore he got him strait to bed, and the next morning settled himself close to his business. His Dame coming home, and hearing that her man was gone to bed, took that night but small rest, and early in the morning hearing him up at his work, merrily singing, she by and by arose, and in seemly sort attiring herself, she came into the worke-shop, and sat her down to make quills, quoth john, Good morrow Dame, how do you to day? God a mercy john (quoth she) even as well as I may: for I was sore troubled in my Dreams. Me thought two Doves walked together in a corn field, the one (as it were) in communication with the other, without regard of picking up any thing to sustain themselves: and after they had with many nods spent some time to their content, they both fell hard with their pretty bills to peck up the scattered corn, left by the weary Reaper's hand. At length (finding themselves satisfied) it chanced another Pigeon to light in that place, with whom one of the first Pigeons at length kept company: and after, returning to the place where she left her first companion, perceived he was not there: she kindly searching up and down the high stubble to find him, lights at length on a Hog fast asleep, wherewith me thought the poor Dove was so dismayed, that presently she fell down in a trance. I seeing her legs fail, and her wings quiver, yielding herself to death, moved with pity ran unto her, and thinking to take up the Pigeon, me thought, I had in my hands my own heart, wherein me thought an arrow stuck so deep, that the blood trickled down the shaft, and lay upon the feathers like the silver pearled dew on the green grass, which made me to weep most bitterly. But presently, me thought there came one to me crowned like a Queen, who told me my heart would dye in time, except I got some of that sleeping Hog's grease to heal the wounds thereof. Whereupon I ran in all haste to the Hog with my heart bleeding in my hand, who (me thought) grunted at me in most churlish sort, and vanished out of my sight. Whereupon coming straight home, me thought, I found this Hog rus●ing among the Looms, wherewith I presently awaked, suddenly after midnight, being all in a sweat and very ill: and I am sure you could not choose but hear me groan. Trust me Dame, I heard you not (quoth john) I was so sound asleep And thus (quoth she) a woman may dye in the night before you will have the care to see what she asles, or ask what she lacks. But truly john (quoth she) all is one: for if thou shouldest have come, thou couldst not have got in, because my chamber door was locked: but while I live, this shall teach me wit: for henceforth I will have no other lock but a latch, till I am married. Then Dame (quoth he) I perceive though you be curious in your choice, yet at length you will marry. I truly (quoth she) so thou wilt not hinder me. Who I, quoth john? on my faith Dame, not for a hundred pounds, but rather will further you to the uttermost of my power. Indeed (quoth she) thou hast no reason to show any discourtesy to me in that matter, although some of our neighbours do not stick to say, that I am sure to thee already. If it were so (quoth john) there is no cause to deny it, or to been ashamed thereof, knowing myself far unworthy of so high a favour. Well, let this talk rest (quoth she) and take there thy quills, for it is time for me to go to market.  
Thus the matter rested for two or three days, in which space she daily devised which way she might obtain her desire, which was to marry her man. Many things came in her head, and sundry sleights in her mind, but none of them did fit her fancy, so that she became wondrous sad, and as civil as the nine Sibbels; and in this melancholy humour continued three weeks or a monesh, till at last it was her luck upon a Batholomew day (having a Fair in the town) to spy her man john give a pair of Gloves to a proper maid for a Fairing, which the maiden with a bathfull modesty kindly accepted, and requited it with a kiss: which kindled in her an inward jealousy: but notwithstanding very discreetly she covered it, and closely passed along unspied of her man or the maid.  
She had not gone far, but she met with one of her suitors, namely the Tailor, who was very fine and brisk in his apparel, and needs he would bestow the wine upon the Widow: and after some faint denial, meeting with a Gossip of hers, to the Tavern they went, which was more courtesy than the Tailor could ever get of her before, showing herself very pleasant and merry; and finding her in such a pleasing humour, the Tailor, after a new quart of wine, renewed his old suit: the Widow with patience heard him, and gently answered, that in respect of his great good will long time borne unto her, as also in regard of his gentleness, cost, and courtesy at that present bestowed, she would not flatly deny him. Therefore (quoth she) seeing this is not a place to conclude of such masters, if I may entreat you to come to my poor house on thursday next, you shall be heartily welcome, and be further satisfied of my mind: and thus preferred to a touch of her lips, he paid the shot and departed. The Tailor was scant out of sight, when she met with the Tanner: who albeit he was aged, yet lustily he saiuted her, and to the wine she must, there was no nay. The Widow seeing his importunacy, calls her gossip, and along they walked together. The old man called for wine plenty, and the best cheer in the house: and in an hearty manner he bids the Widow welcome. They had not sitten long, but in comes a noise of Musicians in tawny coats, who (putting off their caps) asked if they would have any music. The Widow answered no, they were merry enough. Tut, queth the old man, let us hear good fellows what you can do, and play me The beginning of the World. Alas, quoth the widow, you had more need to hearken to the ending of the world. Why Widow, quoth he, I tell thee the beginning of the world was the begetting of Children: and if you find me faulty in that occupation, turn me out of thy bed for a bungler, and then send for the Sexton. He had no sooner spoken the word, but the Parson of Speen with his corner cap, popped in at the door, who seeing the Widow sitting at the table, eraved pardon and came in. Quoth she, for want of the Serton, here is the Priest if you need him. Marry (quoth the Tanner) in good time, for by this means we need not go far to be married. Sir, quoth the Parson, I shall do my best in convenient place. Wherein, quoth the Tanner? To wed her myself, quoth the Parson. Nay soft, said the Widow, one Swallow makes not a Summer, nor one meeting a marriage: as I lighted on you unlooked for, so came I hither unprovided for the purpose. I trust, quoth the Tanner, you came not without your eyes to see, your tongue to speak, your ears to hear, your hands to feel, nor your legs to go. I brought my eyes, quoth she, to discern colours, my tongue to say No to questions I like not, my hands to thrust from me the things that I love not, my ears to judge 'twixt flattery & friendship, & my feet to run from such as would wrong me. Why then, quoth the Parson, by your gentle abiding in this place, it is evident that here are none but those you like & love. God forbid I should hate my friends (quoth the widow) whom I take all these in this place to been. But there been diverse sorts of loves, quoth the Parson. You say truth, quoth the Widow: I love yourself for your profession, and my friend the Tanner, for his courtesy and kindness, and the rest for their good company. Yet (quoth the Parson) for the explaining of your love, I pray you drink to them you love best in the company. Why (quoth the Tanner) have you any hope in her love? Believe me (saith the Parson) as much as another. Why then Parson sit down said the Tanner: for you that are equal with me in desire, shall surely be half with me in the shot: and so Widow, on God's name fulfil the Parson's request. Seeing (quoth the Widow) you are so pleasantly bend, if my courtesy might not breed contention between you, and that I may have your favour to show my fancy, I will fulfil your request. Quoth the Parson, I am pleased howsoever it be. And I, quoth the Tanner. Why then (quoth she) with this cup of Claret wine and Sugar, I heartily drink to the Ministrels boy. Why, is it he you love best, quoth the Parson? I have reason, said she, to like and love them best, that will be least offended with my doings. Nay, Widow (quoth they) we meant you should drink to him whom you loved best in the way of marriage. Quoth the Widow, you should have said so at firsh: but to tell you my opinion, it is small discretion for a woman to disclose her secret affection in an open assembly: therefore, if to that purpose you spoke, let me entreat you both to come home to my house on Thursday next, where you shall be heartily welcome, and there be fully resolved of my mind: and so, with thanks at this time, I'll take my leave. The shot being paid, and the Mufftians pleased, they all departed, the Tanner to Wallingford, the Parson to Speen, and the widow to her own house: where in her wont solemnes she settled herself to her business.  
Against Thursday she dressed her house fine and brave, and set herself in her best apparel: the Tailor nothing forgetting his promise, sent to the Widow a good fat Pig, and a Goose. The Parson being as mindful as he, sent to her house a couple of fat Rabbits and a Capon: and the Tanner came himself, and brought a good shoulder of Mutton, and half a dozen Chickens, beside he brought a good gallon of Sack, and half a pound of the best Sugar. The Widow receiving this good meat, set her maid to dress it incontinent, and when dinner time drew near, the Table was covered, and every other thing provided in convenient and comely sort.  
At length the guests being come, the Widow bade them all heartily welcome. The Priest and the Tanner seeing the Tailor, mused what he made there: the Tailor on the other side, marvelled as much at their presence. Thus looking strangely one at another, at length the Widow came out of the Kitchen, in a fair train gown stuck full of silver pins, a fine white Cap on her head, with cuts of curious needle work under the same, and an Apron before her as white as the driven snow: then very modestly making curtsy to them all, she requested them to sit down. But they straining courtesy the one with the other, the Widow with a smiling countenance took the Parson by the hand, saying, Sir, as you stand highest in the Church, so it is meet you should sit highest at the Table: and therefore I pray you sit down there on the bench side. And Sir, said she to the Tanner, as age is to been honoured before youth for their experience, so are they to sit above Bachelors for their gravity: and so she set him down on this side the Table, over against the Parson. Then coming to the Tailor, she said, Batcheler, though your lot been the last, your welcome is equal with the first, and seeing your place points out itself, I pray you take a cushion and sit down. And now (quoth she) to make the board equal, and because it hath been an old saying, that three things are to small purpose, if the fourth be away: if so it may stand with your favour, I will call in a Gossip of mine to supply this void place. With a good will, quoth they. With that she brought in an old woman with scant ever a good tooth in her head, and placed her right against the Bachelor. Then was the meat brought to the board in due order by the Widow's servants, her man john being chiefest servitor. The Widow sat down at the Tables end, between the Parson and the Tanner, who in very good sort carned meat for them all, her man john waiting on the Table.  
After they had sitten awhile, & well refreshed themselves, the Widow taking a Crystal glass filled with Claret Wine, drunk unto the whole company, and bade them welcome. The Parson pledged her, and so did all the rest in due order: but still in their drinking, the cup passed over the poor old woman's Nose; insomuch that at length the old woman (in a merry vain) spoke thus unto the company: I have had much good meat among you, but as for the drink I can nothing commend it. Alas, good Gossip (quoth the Widow) I perceive no man hath drunk to thee yet. No truly, quoth the old woman: for Churchmen have so much mind of yongue Rabbits, old men such joy in yongue Chickens, and Bachelors in Pig's flesh take such delight, that an old Sow, a tough Hen, or a grey Coney are not accepted: and so it is seen by me, else I should have been better remembered. Well old woman, quoth the Parson take here the leg of a Capon to stop thy mouth. Now by S. Anne, I dare not, quoth she. No, wherefore said the Parson? Marry, for fear lest you should go home with a crutch, quoth she. The Tailor said, then taste here a piece of a Goose. Now God forbid, said the old woman, let Goose go to his kind: you have a yongue stomach, eat it yourself, and much good may it do your heart, sweet yongue man. The old woman lacks most of her teeth, quoth the Tanner: and therefore a piece of a tender Chick is fittest for her. If I did lack as many of my teeth, quoth the old woman, as you lack points of good husbandry, I doubt I should starve before it were long. At this the Widow laughed heartily, and the men were stricken into such a dump, that they had not a word to say. Dinner being ended, the Widow with the rest rose from the Table, and after they had sitten a pretty while merrily talking, the Widow called her man john to bring her a bowl of fresh Ale, which he did. Then said the Widow: My masters, now for your courtesy and cost I heartily thank you all, and in requital of all your favour, love and good will, I drink to you, giving you free liberty when you please to depart. At these words her suitors looked so sourly one upon another, as if they had been newly champing of Crabs. Which when the Tailor heard, shaking up himself in his new russet jerkin, and setting his Hat on one side, he began to speak thus. I trust sweet Widow (quoth he) you remember to what end my coming was hither to day: I have long time been a suitor unto you, and this day you promised to give me a direct answer. ' Tistrue, quoth she, and so I have: for your love I give you thanks, and when you please you may depart. Shall I not have you, said the Tailor? Alas (quoth the Widow) you come too late. Good friend (quoth the Tanner) it is manners for yongue men to let their elders be served before them: to what end should I be here if the Widow should have thee? a flat denial is meet for a sawey suitor: but what sayest thou to me fair Widow (quoth the Tanner?) Sir, said she, because you are so sharp set, I would wish you as soon as you can to wed. Appoint the time yourself (quoth the Tanner.) Even as sóone (quoth she) as you can get a wife, and hope not after me, for I am already promised. Now Tanner, you may take your place with the Tailor, quoth the Parson: for indeed the Widow is for no man but myself. Master Parson (quoth she) many have run née the goal, and yet have lost the game, and I cannot help it though your hope be in vain: besides, Parsons are but newly suffered to have wives, and for my part I will have none of the first head. What (quoth the Tailor) is your merriment grown to this reckoning? I never spent a Pig and a Goose to so bad purpose before: I promise you, when I came in, I verily thought, that you were invited by the Widow to make her and I sure together, and that this jolly Tanner was brought to been a witness to the contract▪ and the old woman fetched in for the same purpole, else I would never have put up so many dry bobs at her hands. And surely, quoth the Tanner, I knowing she to been a Tailor, did assuredly think, that thou wast appointed to come and take measure for our wedding apparel. But now we are all deceived, quoth the Parson: and therefore as we came fools, so we may depart hence like asses. That is as you interpret the matter, said the Widow: for I ever doubting that a concluding answer would breed a jar in the end among you every one, I thought it better to be done at one instant, and in mine own house, than at sundry times, and in common Taverns: and as for the meat you sent, as it was unrequested of me, so had you your part thereof, and if you think good to take home the remainder, prepare your wallets and you shall have it. Nay Widow, quoth they, although we have lost our labours, we have not altogether lost our manners: that which you have, keep; and GOD send to us better luck, and to you your hearts desire. And with that they departed.  
The Widow being glad she was thus rid of her guests, when her man john with all the rest sat at supper, she sitting in a Chair by, spoke thus unto them. Well my masters, you saw, that this day your poor Dame had her choice of husbands, if she had listed to marry, and such as would have loved and maintained her like a woman. 'Tis true, quoth john, and I pray God you have not withstood your best fortune. Trust me (quoth she) I know not, but if I have, I may thank mine own foolish fancy.  
Thus it passed on from Bartholomew-tide, till it was near Christmas, at what time the weather was so wonderful cold, that all the running Rivers round about the Town were frozen very thick. The Widow being very loath any longer to lie without company, in a cold winter's night made a great fire, and sent for her man john, having also prepared a Chair and a cushion, she made him sit down therein, and sending for a pint of good Sack, they both went to supper.  
In the end, bed time coming on, she caused her maid in a merriment to pluck off his hose and shoes, and caused him to been laid in his master's best bed, standing in the best Chamber, hung round about with very fair curtains. john being thus preferred, thought himself a Gentleman, and lying soft, after his hard labour and a good supper, quickly fell asleep.  
About midnight, the Widow being cold on her feet, crept into her man's bed to warm them. john feeling one lift up the clothes, asked who was there? O good john it is I, quoth the Widow; the night is so extreme cold, and my Chamber walls so thin, that I am like to been starved in my bed, wherefore rather than I would any way hazard my health, I thought it much better to come hither and try your courtesy, to have a little room beside you.  
john being a kind yongue man, would not say her nay, and so they spent the rest of the night both together in one bed. In the morning betime she arose up and made herself ready, and wild her man john to run and fetch her a link with all speed: for, quoth she, I have earnest business to do this morning. Her man did so. Which done, she made him to carry the Link before her, until she came to Saint Bartholomew's Chapel, where Sir john the Priest with his Clerk and Sexton, stood waiting for her. john, quoth she, turn into the Chapel: for before I go further, I will make my prayers to S. Bartholomew, so shall I speed the better in my business. When they were come in, the Priest according to his order, came to her, and asked where the Bridegroom was? Quoth she, I thought he had been here before me. Sir, (quoth she) I will sit down and say over my Beads, and by that time he will come. john mused at this matter, to see that his Dame should so suddenly be married, and he hearing nothing thereof before. The Widow rising from her prayers, the Priest told her that the Bridegroom was not yet come. Is it true, quoth the Widow? I promise you I will stay no longer for him, if he were as good as George a Green: and therefore dispatch, quoth she, and marry me to my man john. Why Dame (quoth he) you do but jest, I frow. john (quoth she) I jest not: for so I mean it shall been, and stand not strangely, but remember that you did promise me on your faith, not to hinder me when I came to the Church to be married, but rather to set it forward: therefore set your link aside, and give me your hand: for none but you shall be my husband. john seeing no remedy, consented, because he saw the matter could not otherwise be amended; and married they were presently. When they were come home, john entertained his Dame with a kiss, which she other servants seeing, thought him some what saucy. The Widow caused the best cheer in the house to been set on the Table, and to breakfast they went, causing her new husband to be set in a chair at the table's end, with a fair napkin laid on his trencher: then she called out the rest of her servants, willing them to sit down and take part of their good cheer. They wondering to see their fellow john sit at the table's end in their old master's chair, began heartily to smile, and openly to laugh at the matter, especially because their Dame so kindly sat by his side: which she perceiving, asked if that were all the manners they could show before their master? I tell you, quoth she, he is my husband: for this morning we were married, and therefore hence forward look you acknowledge your duty towards him. The folks looked one upon another, marvelling at this strange news. Which when john perceiu●d, he said; My masters, muse not at all: for although by God's providence, and your Dame's favour, I am preferred from being your fellow to been your master, I am not thereby so much puffed up in pride, that any way I will forget my former estate: Notwithstanding, seeing I am now to hold the place of a master, it shall been wisdom in you to forget what I was, and to take me as I am, and in doing your diligence, you shall have no cause to repent that God made me your master. The servants hearing this, as also knowing his good government before time, past their years with him in dutiful manner.  
The next day, the report was over all the Town, that jack of Newberie had married his Dame: so that when the woman walked abroad, every one bade God give her joy: some said that she was matched to her sorrow, saying, that so lusty a yongue man as he, would never love her, being so ancient. Whereupon the woman made answer, that she would take him down in his wedding shoes, and would try his patience in the prime of his lustiness: whereunto, many of her Gossips did likewise encourage her. Every day therefore for the space of a month after she was married, it was her ordinary custom, to go forth in the morning among her Gossips and acquaintance to make merry, and not to return home till night, without any regard of her household. Of which, at her coming home, her husband did very oftentimes admonish her in very gentle sort, showing what great inconvenience would grow thereby: the which sometime she would take in gentle part, and sometime in disdain, saying.  
I am now in very good case, that he that was my servant but the other day, will now be my master: this it is for a woman to make her foot her head. The day hath been, when I might have gone forth when I would, and come in again when it had pleased me without controlment, and now I must be subject to every jacks check. I am sure (quoth she) that by my gadding abroad, and careless spending, I waste no goods of thine. ay, pitying thy poverty, made thee a man, and master of the house, but not to the end I would become thy slave. I scorn, I tell thee true, that such a yongueling as thyself▪ should correct my conceit, and give me instructions, as if I were not able to guide myself: but i'faith, y faith, you shall not use me like a babe nor bridle me like an Ass: and seeing my going abroad grieves thee, where I have gone forth one day, I will go abroad three; and for one hour, I will stay five. Well (quoth her husband) I trust you will be better advised: and with that he went from her about his business, leaving her sweeting in her fustian furies.  
Thus the time▪ past on, till on a certain day she had been abroad in her wont manner, and staying forth very late, he shut the doors and went to bed. About midnight she comes to the door, and knocks to come in: to whom he looking out of the window, answered in this sort.  
What? is it you that keeps such a knocking? I pray you get hence, and request the Constable to provide you a bed, for this night you shall have no lodging here. I hope, quoth she, you will not shut me out of doors like a dog, or let me lie in the streets like a Strumpet. Whether like a dog or drab, quoth he, all is one to me, knowing no reason, but that as you have stayed out all day for your delight, so you may lie forth all night for my pleasure. Both birds and beasts at the night's appreach repair to their rest, and observe a convenient time to return to their habitation. Look but upon the poor Spidee, the Frog, the Fly, and every other silly worm, and you shall see all these observe time to return to their home: and if you, being a woman, will not do the like, content yourself to bear the brunt of your own folly: and so farewell.  
The woman hearing this, made piteous moan, and in very humble sort entreated him to let her in, and to pardon this offence, and while she lived vowed never to do the like. Her husband at length being moved with pity towards her, slipped on his shoes, and came down in his shirt: the door being opened, in she went quaking, and as he was about to lock it again, in very sorrowful manner she said, Alack husband, what hap have I? my wedding King was even now in my hand, and I have let it fall about the door: good sweet john come forth with the candle, and help me to seek it. The man incontinent did so, and while he sought for that which was not there to been found, she whipped into the house, and quickly clapping to the door, she locked her husband out. He stood calling with the candle in his hand to come in, but she made as if she heard not. Anon she went up into her chamber, and carried the key with her: but when he saw she would not answer, he presently began to knock as loud as he could at the door. At last she thrust her head out at the window, saying: Who is there? 'tis I, quoth john, what mean you by this? I pray you come down and open the door that I may come in.  
What sir, quoth she, is it you? have you nothing to do but dance about the streets at this time of night, and like a Spirit of the Buttery hunt after Crickets, are you so hot that the house cannot hold you? Nay, I pray thee sweet heart, quoth he, do not gibe no longer, but let me in. O sir, remember, quoth she, how you stood even now at the window, like a judge on the Bench, and in taunting sort kept me out of mine own house. How now jack, am I even with you? What, john my man, were you so lusty to lock your Dame out of doors? Sirrah, remember you had me go to the Constable to get lodging, now you have leisure to try if his wife will prefer you to a bed. You sir sauce, that made me stand in the cold, till my feet did freeze, and my teeth chatter, while you stood preaching of birds and beasts, telling me a tale of Spiders, Flies, and Frogs: go try now if any of them will been so friendly to let thee have lodging. Why go you not man? fear not to speak with them; for I am sure you shall find them at home: think not they are such ill husbands as you, to be abroad at this time of night.  
With this john's patience was greatly moved, insomuch, that he deeply swore, that if she would not let him in, he would break down the door. Why john, quoth she, you need not be so hot, your clothing is not so warm, and because I think this will been a warning for you against another time, how you shut me out of my house, catch, there is the key, come in at thy pleasure, and look thou go to bed to thy fellows, for with me thou shalt not lie to night. With that she clapped to the casement, and got her to bedde, locking the chamber door fast. Her husband that knew it was in vain to seek to come into her chamber, and being no longer able to endure the cold, got him a place among his prentices, and there slept sound. In the morning his wife rose betime, and merrily made him a Caudle, and bringing it up to his bed side, asked him how he did?  
Quoth john, troubled with a shrew, who, the longer she lives, the worse she is: and as the people of Illyris kill men with their looks, so she kills her husband's heart with untoward conditions. But trust me wife, quoth he, seeing I find you of such crooked qualities, that (like the Spider) ye turn the sweet flowers of good counsel into venomous poison, from henceforth I will leave you to your own wilfulness, and neither vere my mind, nor trouble myself to restrain you: the which if I had wisely done last night, I had kept the house in quiet, and myself from cold. Husband (quoth she) think that women are like starlings, that will burst their gall before they will yield to the Fowler: or like the Fish Scolopendra, that cannot be touched without danger. Notwithstanding, as the hard steel doth yield to the hammers stroke, being used to his kind, so will women to their husbands, where they are not too much crossed. And seeing ye have sworn to give me my will, I vow likewise that my wilfulness shall not offend you. I tell you husband, the noble nature of a woman is such, that for their loving friends they will not stick (like the Pelican) to pierce their own hearts to do them good. And therefore forgiving each other all injuries past, having also tried one-anothers patience, let us quench these burning coals of contention, with the sweet juice of a faithful kiss, and shaking hands, bequeath all our anger to the eating up of this Caudle. Her husband courteously consented: and after this time, they lived long together, in most godly, loving and kind sort till in the end she died, leaving her husband wondrous wealthy.   

CHAP. II.  
Of jack of Newberie his great wealth, and number of servants: and also how he brought the Queen Katherine two hundred and fifty men prepared for the war at his own cost against the king of Scots at Floden field.  
NOw jack of Newberie being a widower, had the choice of many wives, men's daughters of good credit, & widows of great wealth. Notwithstanding he bent his only like to one of his own servants, whom he had tried in the guiding of his house a year or two: and knowing her carefulness in her business, faithful in her dealing, an excellent good huswife, thought it bettsr to have her with nothing, than some other with much treasure. And beside as her qualities were good, so was she of very comely personage, of a sweet favour, and fairs complexion. In the end, he opened his mind unto her, and craved her good will. The maid (though she took this motion kindly) said, she would do nothing without consent of her parents. Whereupon a Letter was writ to her father, being a poor man, dwelling at Alesburie in Buckinghamshire: who being joyful of his daughters good fortune, speedily came to Newberie, where of her master he was friendly entertained: who after he had made him good cheer, showed him all his servants at work, and every office in his house.  

Within one room being large and long,  
There stood two hundred Looms full strong:  
Two hundred men the truth is so,  
Wrought in these Looms all in a row.  
By every one a pretty boy,  
Sat making quills with much joy;  
And in another place hard by,  
An hundred women merrily,  
Were carding hard with joyful cheer,  
Who singing sat with voices clear.  
And in a chamber close beside,  
Two hundred maidens did abide,  
In petticoats of Stammel red,  
And milk-white kerchers on their head:  
Their smocke-sleeves like to winter snow,  
That on the Western mountains flow,  
And each sleeve with a silken band,  
Was featly tied at the hand.  
These pretty maids did never lin,  
But in that place all day did spin:  
And spinning so with voices meet,  
Like Nightingales they sung full sweet.  
Then to another room came they,  
Where children were in poor array:  
And every one sat picking wool,  
The finest from the course to cull:  
The number was seven score and ten,  
The children of poor silly men:  
And these their labours to requite,  
Had every one a penny at night,  
Beside their meat and drink all day,  
Which was to them a wondrous stay.  
Within another place likewise,  
Full fifty proper men he spies,  
And these were Shearemen every one,  
Whose skill and cunning there was shown:  
And hard by them there did remain,  
Full fourscore Rowers taking pain.  
A Dye-house likewise had he then,  
Wherein he kept full forty men:  
And likewise in his fulling Mill,  
Full twenty persons kept he still.  
Each week ten good fat oxen he  
Spent in his house for certainty:  
Beside good butter, cheese, and fish,  
And many another wholesome dish.  
He kept a Butcher all the year,  
A Brewer eke for Ale and Beer:  
A Baker for to bake his bread,  
Which stood his hushold in good stead.  
Five Cooks within his kitchen great,  
Were all the year to dress his meat.  
Six scullion boys unto their hands,  
To make clean dishes, pots, and pans,  
Beside poor children that did stay,  
To turn the broaches every day.  
The old man that did see this sight,  
Was much amazed, as well he might:  
This was a gallant Cloathier sure,  
Whose fame for ever shall endure.   
When the old man had seen this great household and family, then was he brought into the Warehouses, some being filled with wool, some with flocks, some with wead and madder, and some with broadcloathes and kerseys ready died and dressed, beside a great number of others, same stretched on the Tenters, some hanging on poles, and a great many more lying wet in other places. Sir (quoth the old man) I wis i zée you been vominable rich, and cham content you shall have my daughter, and God's blessing and mine light on you both.  
But Father (quoth jack of Newberie) what will you bestow with her? Marry hear you (quoth the old man) I vaith cham but a poor man, but I thong God, cham of good exclamation among my neighbours, and they will as zoone take my vice for any thing as a richer man's: thick I will bestow, you shall have with a good will, because i hear very good condemnation of you in every place, therefore I'll give you twenty Nobles and a weaning Calf, and when I die and my wife, you shall have the revelation of all my goods.  
When jack heard his offer, he was strait content, making more reckoning of the woman's modesty, than her Father's money. So the marriage day being appointed, all things was prepared meet for the wedding, and royal cheer ordained, most of the Lords, Knights, and Gentlemen thereabout, were invited thereunto: the Bride being attired in a gown of sheep's russet, and a kertle of fine worsted, her head attired with a villiment of gold, and her hair as yellow as gold, hanging down behind her, which was curiously combed and pleated, according to the manner in those days: she was led to Church between two sweet boys, with Bridelaces & Rosemary tied about their silken sléeves: the one of them was son to Sir Thomas Parry, the other to Sir Francis Hungerford. Then was there a fair Bride-cup of silver and gilt carried before her, wherein was a goodly branch of Rosemary gilded very fair, hung about with silken Ribbons of all colours: next was there a noise of Musicians that played all the way before her: after her came all the chiefest maidens of the Country, some bearing great Bride Cakes, and some Garlands of wheat finely gilded, and so she passed unto the Church.  
It is needless for me to make any mention here of the Bridegroom, who being a man so well beloved, wanted no company, and those of the best sort, beside, diverse Merchant strangers of the Stillyard, that came from London to the Wedding. The marriage being solemnised, home they came in order as before, and to dinner they went, where was no want of good cheer, no lack of melody: Rhenish Wine at this wedding was as plentiful as Beer or Ale: for the Merchants had sent thither ten Tons of the best in the Stillyard.  
This wedding endured ten days, to the great relief of the poor that dwelled all about: and in the end, the Bride's Father and Mother came to pay their Daughter's portion: which when the Bridegroom had received, he gave them great thanks: Notwithstanding he would not suffer them yet to depart, and against they should go home, their son in law came unto them, saying; Father and Mother, all the thanks that my poor heart can yield, I give you for your good will, cost, and courtesy, and while I live make bold to use me in any thing that I am able, and in requital of the gift you gave me with your daughter, I give you here twenty pound to bestow as you find occasion, and for your loss of time, and charges riding up and down, I give you here as much broadcloath as shall make you a cloak, and my mother a holiday gown, and when this is worn out, come to me and fetch more.  
O my good son (quoth the old woman) Christ's benison been with thee evermore: for to tell thee true, we had zold all our kine to make money for my daughter's marriage, and this zeaven year we should not have been able to buy more: Notwithstanding we should have zold all that ever we had, before my poor wench should have lost her marriage. I (quoth the old man) I'd have zold my coat from my back, and my bed from under me, before my girl should have gone without you. I thank you good father and mother, said the Bride, and I pray God long to keep you in health: then the Bride kneeled down and did her duty to her parents, who weeping for very joy, departed.  
Not long after this, it chanced while our noble king was making war in France, that james king of Scotland, falsely breaking his oath, invaded England with a great Army, and did much hurt upon the Borders: whereupon on the sudden, every man was appointed according to his ability, to been ready with his men and furniture, at an hour's warning, on pain of death. jack of Newberie was commanded by the justices to set out six men, four armed with Pikes, and two Calivers, and to meet the Queen in Buckinghamshire, who was there raising a great power to go against the faithless king of Scots.  
When jack had received this charge, he came home in all haste, & cut out a whole broadcloath for horsemen's coats, and so much more as would make up coats for the number of a hundrens men: in short time he had made ready fifty tall men well mounted in white coats, and red caps with yellow Feathers, Demilances in their hands, and fifty armed men on foot with Pikes, and fifty shot in white coats also, every man so expert in the handling of his weapon, as few better were found in the field. Himself likewise in complete armour on a goodly Barbed Horse, road foremost of the company, with a Lance in his hand, and a fair plume of yellow Feathers in his crest, and in this sort he came before the justices: who at the first approach did not a little wonder what he should be.  
At length when he had discovered what he was, she justices and most of the Gentlemen gave him great commendations for this his good and forward mind showed in this action: but some other envying hereat, gave out words that he showed himself more prodigal than prudent, and more vainglorious than well advised, seeing that the best Nobleman in the Country would scarce have done so much: and no marvel (quoth they) for such a one would call to his remembrance, that the King had often occasions to urge his subjects to such charges; and therefore would do at one time as they might be able to do at another: but jack of Newberie like the Stork in the Springtime, thinks the highest Cedar too low for him to build his nest in, and ere the year be half done, may be glad to have his bed in a bush.  
These disdainful speeches being at last brought to jack of Newberies ear, though it grieved him much, yet patiently put them up till time convenient. Within a while after, all the soldiers of Berkshire, Hampshire, and Wiltshire, were commanded to show themselves before the Queen at Stonny Stratford, where her Grace, with many Lords, Knights, and Gentlemen were assembled, with ten thousand men. Against jack should go to the Queen, he caused his face to been smeared with blood, and his white ceate in like manner.  
When they were come before her Highness, she demanded (above all the rest) what those white coats were? Whereupon, Sir Henry Englefield (who had the leading of the Berkshire men) made answer.  
May it please your Majesty to understand, that he which rideth foremost there, is called jack of Newberry, and all those gallant men in white, are his own servants, who are maintained all the year by him: whom he at his own cost hath set out in this time of extremity, to serve the King against his vaunting Foe: and I assure your Majesty, there is not, for the number, better soldiers in the field.  
Good sir Henry (quoth the Queen) bring the man to me, that I may see him: which was done accordingly. Then jack with all his men alighted, and humbly on their knees fell before the Queen. Her Grace said, Gentleman arise; and putting forth her lily white hand, gave it him to kiss. Most gracious Queen, quoth he, Gentleman I am none, nor the son of a Gentleman, but a poor Clothier, whose lands are his Looms, having no other Rents but what I get from the backs of little sheep: nor can I claim any cognisance but a wadden shuttle. Nevertheless, most gracious Queen, these my poor servants and myself, with life and goods, are ready at your Majesty's command, not only to spend our bloods, but also to lose our lives in defence of our King and Country.  
Welcome to me jack of Newberie, said the Queen, though a Clothier by trade, yet a Gentleman by condition, and a faithful subject in heart: and if thou chance to have any suit in Court, make account the Queen will been thy friend, and would to God the King had many such Clothiers. But tell me, how came thy white coat besmeared with blood, and thy face so bescratcht? May it please your Grace (quoth he) to understand, that it was my chance to meet with a monster, who like the people Cynomolgy, had the proportion of a man, but headed like a dog, the biting of whose teeth was like the poisoned teeth of a Crocodile, his breath like the Basilisks, killing afar off. I understand, his name was Envy, who assailed me invisibly, like the wicked spirit of Mogunce, who flung stones at men, & could not be seen: and so I come by my scratched face, not knowing when it was done. What was the cause this monster should afflict thee above the rest of thy company, or other men in the field? Although, most Sovereign Queen, quoth he, this poisoned cur snarleth at many, and that few can escape the hurt of his wounding breath, yet at this time he bent his force against me, not for any hurt I did him, but because I surpassed him in hearty affection to my Sovereign Lord, and with the poor Widow, offered all I had to serve my Prince and Country. It were happy for England, said the Queen, if in every market Town there were a jybbet to hang up curs of that kind, who like Aesop's dog lying in the Manger, will do no goodhimselfe, nor suffer such as would to do any.  
This speech being ended, the Queen caused her Army to be set in order, and in warlike manner to march toward Flodden, where King james had pitched his field. But as they passed along with Drum and Trumpet, there came a Past from the valiant Earl of Surrey, with tidings to her Grace, that now she might dismiss her Army, for that it had pleased God to grant the noble Earl victory over the Scots: whom he had by his wisdom and valiancy vanquished in fight, and slain their King in battle. Upon which news, her Majesty discharged her forces, and joyfully took her journey to London, with a pleasant countenance, praising God for her famous victory, and yielding thanks to all the noble Gentlemen and Soldiers for their readiness in the action, giving many gifts to the Nobility, and great rewards to the Soldiers: among whom, she nothing forgot jack of Newberry, about whose neck she put a rich chain of gold: at what time he with all the rest gave a great shout, saying, God save Katherine the noble Queen of England, Many Noble men of Scotland were taken prisoners at this battle, and many more slain: so that there never came a greater foil to Scotland than this: for you shall understand that the Scottish King made full account to been Lord of this Land, watching opportunity to bring to pass his faithless and traitorous practice: which was when our King was in France, at Turney, and Turwin: in regard of which wars, the Scots vaunted there was none left in England, but shepherds and ploughmen, who were not able to lead an Army, having no skill in martial affairs. In consideration of which advantage, he invaded the Country, boasting of victory before he had won: which was no small grief to Queen Margaret, his wife, who was eldest sister to our noble King. Wherefore in disgrace of the Scots, and in remembrance of the famous achieved victory, the Commons of England made this Song: which to this day is not forgotten of many.  

THE SONG:  

KIng jamie had made a vow,  
keep it well if he may:  
That he will be at lovely London,  
upon Saint james his day.   

Upon Saint james his day at noon,  
at fair London will I be;  
And all the Lords in merry Scotland,  
they shall dine there with me.   

Then bespoke good Queen Margaret,  
the tears fell from her eyes:  
Leave off these wars most noble King,  
keep your fidelity.   

The water runs swift and wondrous deep,  
from bottom unto the brim:  
My brother Henry hath men good enough,  
England is hard to win.   

Away, quoth he, with this silly fool.  
in prison fast let her lie:  
For she is come of the English blood,  
and for these words she shall dye.   

With that bespoke Lord Thomas Howard,  
the Queen's Chamberlain that day:  
If that you put Queen Margaret to death,  
Scotland shall rue it always.   

Then in a rage King jamie did say,  
away with this foolish Mome:  
He shall be hanged, and the other be burned,  
so soon as I come home.   

At Flodden Field the Scots came in,  
which made our Englishmen fain,  
At Bramstone-greene this battle was seen:  
there was King jamie slain.   

Then presently the Scots did fly,  
their Cannons they left behind,  
Their ensigns gay were worn all way,  
our Soldiers did beat them blind.   

To tell you plain, twelve thousand were slain,  
that to the fight did stand;  
And many prisoners took that day,  
the best in all Scotland.   

That day made many a fatherless child,  
and many a widow poor;  
And many a Scottish gay Lady,  
sit weeping in her bower.   

jack with a feather was leapt all in leather,  
his boastings were all in vain:  
He had such a chance with a new morris dance,  
he never went home again.   
FINIS.    

CHAP. III.  
How jack of Newberie went to receive the King, as he went in progress into Berkshire: and how he made him a banquet in his own house.  
ABout the tenth year of the kings reign, his Grace made his progress into Berkshire, against which time jack of Newberry clothed 30. tall fellows, being his household servants, in blue coats, faced with Scarcenet, every one having a good sword & buckler on his shoulder, himself in a plain russet coat, a pair of white kersie breeches without welt or guard, and stockens of the same piece sowed to his slops, which had a great codpiece, whereon he stuck his pins: who knowing the King would come over a certain meadow, near adjoining to the Loon, got himself thither with all his men; and repairing to a certain Ant-hill, which was in the field, took up his seat there, causing his men to stand round about the same with their swords drawn.  
The King coming near the place with the rest of his Nobility, and seeing them stand with their drawn weapons, sent to know the cause. Garret King at Arms was the Messenger, who spoke in this sort. Good fellows, the King's Majesty would know to what end you stand here with your swords and bucklers prepared to fight. With that, jack of Newberry started up, and made this answer. Harrold (quoth he) return to his Highness, it is poor jack of Newberry, who being scant Marqnesse of a Molehill, is chosen Prince of Ants: and here I stand with my weapons and Guard about me, to defend and keep these my póore and painful subjects, from the force of the idle Butterflies, their sworn enemies, lest they should disturb this quiet Commonwealth, who this Summer season are making their Winter's provision.  
The messenger returning, told his Grace that it was one jack of Newberry, that stood there with his men about him, to guard (as they say) a company of Ants, from the furieus' wrath of the Prince of Butterflies. With this news the King heartily laughed, saying: Indeed it is no marvel he stands so well prepared, considering what a terrible tyrant he hath to deal withal. Certainly my Lords (quoth he) this seems to been a pleasant fellow: and therefore we will send to talk with him.  
The messenger being sent, told jack he must come speak with the King. Quoth he, his Grace hath a horse and I am on foot; therefore will him to come to me: beside that, while I am away, our enemies might come and put my people in hazzare, as the Scots did England, while our King was in France. How dares the Lamb be so bold with the Lion, quoth she Herald? Why, quoth he, if there be a Lion in the field, here is never a cock to fear him: and tell his Majesty, he might think me a very bad Governor, that would walk aside upon pleasure, and leave my people in peril. Herald (quoth he) it is written, He that hath a charge must look to it, and so tell thy Lord my King. The Message being done, the King said: My Lords, seeing it will be no other, we will ride up to the Emperor of Ants, that is so careful in his government. At the King's approach, jack of Newberry and his servants put up all their weapons, and with a joyful cry flung up their caps in token of victory. Why how now my masters (quoth the King) is your wars ended: Let me see, where is the Lord General of this great Camp? With that, jack of Newberry with all his servants fell on their knees, saying: God save the King of England, whose sight hath put our foes to flight, and brought great peace to the poor labouring people. Trust me (quoth our King) here been pretty fellows to fight against Butterflies: I must commend your courage, that dares withstand such mighty giants. Most dread Sovereign (quoth jack) not long ago, in my conceit, I saw the most provident Nation of the Ants, summoned their chief Peers to a Parliament, which was held in the famous city Dry Dusty, the one and twentieth day of September: whereas, by their wisdoms, I was chosen their King, at what time also many bills of complaint were brought in against diverse i'll members in the commonwealth: among whom, the Moule was attainted of high treason to their State: and therefore was banished for ever from their quiet Kingdom: so was the Grasshopper and the Caterpillar, because they were not only idle, but also lived upon the labours of other men, amongst the rest, the Butterfly was very much misliked, but few durst say any thing to him, because of his golden apparel: who through sufferance grew so ambitious and malapert, that the poor Ant could no sooner get an egg into her nest, but he would have it away, and especially against Easter, which at length was misliked. This painted ass took snuff in the nose, and assembled a great many other of his own coat, by windy wars to root this painful people out of the land, that he himself might been seated above them all. (These were proud Butterflies, quoth the King.) Whereupon I with my men (quoth jack) prepared ourselves to withstand them, tili such time as your Maiestles royal presence put them to flight.  
Tush (said the King) thou must think that the force of flies is not great. Notwithstanding (quoth jack) their gay gowns make poor men afraid. I perceive (quoth Cardinal Wolsie) that you being a King of Ants, do carry a great grudge to the Butterflies. ay, quoth jack. we been as great foes, as the Fox and the Snake are friends: for the one of them being subtle, loves the other for his craft: but now I intent to be nolonger a Prince, because the majesty of a King hath eclipsed my glory: so that looking like the Peacock on my black feet makes me abase my vaine-glorions feathers, and humbly yield unto his Majesty all my Sovereign rule and dignity, both of life and goods, casting my weapons at his feet, to do any service wherein his Grace shall command me. God a mercy good jack (quoth the King) I have often heard of thee, and this morning I mean to visit thy house,  
Thus the King with great delight road along until he came to the Town's end, where a great multitude of people attended to see his Majesty: where also Queen Katherine with all her train met him. Thus with great rejoicing of the Commons, the King and Queen passed along to this jolly Clothier's house, where the good wife of the house with threescore maidens attending on her, presented the King with a Bée-hive, most richly gilded with gold, & all the Bees therein were also made of gold curiously by Art, and out of the top of the same Hive, sprung a flourishing green tree, which bore golden Apples, and at the root thereof lay diverse Serpents, seeking to destroy it, whom Prudence and Fortitude trod under their feet, holding this inscription in their hands;  

Lo here presented to your Royal sight,  
The figure of a flourishing Commonwealth:  
Where virtuous subjects labour with delight,  
And beat the drones to death which live by stealth:  
Ambition, Envy, Treason, loathsome serpents be,  
Which seek the downfall of this fruitful tree.   

But Lady Prudence with deep searching eye,  
Their ill intended purpose doth prevent,  
And noble Fortitude standing always nigh,  
Dispersed their power prepared with bad intent.  
Thus are they foiled that mount with means unmeet,  
And so like slaves are trodden under feet.   
The King favourably accepted this Emblem, and receiving it at the women's hands, willed Cardinal Wolsie to look thereon, commanding it should be sent to Windsor Castle. This Cardinal was at that time Lord Chancellor of England, and a wonderful proud Prelate,, by whose means great variance was set betwixt the King of England and the French King, the Emperor of Almain, and diverse other Princes of Christendom, whereby the traffic of those Merchants was utterly forbidden, which bred a general woe through England, especially among Clothiers: in so much, that having no sale for their cloth, they were fain to put away many of their people which wrought for them, as hereafter more at large shall be declared.  
Then was his Majesty brought into a great Hall, where four long tables stood ready covered: and passing through that place, the King and Queen came into a fair and large Parlour, hung about with goodly Tapestry, where was a Table prepared for his Highness and the Queen's Grace. All the floor where the King sat was covered with broad clothes in stead of green rushes: these were choice pieces of the finest wool, of an Azure colour, valued at an hundred pound a cloth, which afterward was given to his Majesty. The King being set with the chiefest of the Council about him, after a delicate dinner, a sumptuous banquet was brought in, served all in glass: the description whereof were too long for me to write, and you to read. The great Hall was also filled with Lords, Knights, and Gentlemen, who were attended by no other but the servants of the house. The Ladies of Honour and Gentlewomen of the Court were all seated in another Parlour by themselves: at whose table the maidens of the house did wait in decent sort. The Serving men by themselves, and the Pages & footmen by themselves, upon whom the apprentices did attend most diligently. During the Kings abiding in this place, there was no want of delicates: Rhenish wine, Claret wine & Sarke, was as plentiful as small Ale. Thus from the highest to the lowest, they were served in such sort, as no discontent was found any way, so that great commendations redownded unto the goodman of the house. The Lord Cardinal that of late found himself galled by the Allegory of the Ants, spoke in this wise to the King. If it should please your Highness (quoth he) but to note the vainglory of these Artificers, you should find no small cause of dislike in many of their actions. For an instance, the fellow of this house, he hath not stuck this day to undo himself, only to become famous by receiving of your Majesty: like Herostratus the Shoemaker, that burned the Temple of Diana, only to get himself a name, more than for any affection he bears to your Grace, as may well be proved by this: Let there be but a simple Subsidy levied upon them for the assistance of your Highness' Wars, or any other weighty affairs of the Commonwealth and state of the Realm, though it been not the twentieth part of their substance, they will so grudge and repine, that it is wonderful: and like people desperate cry out, they been quite undone. My Lord Cardinal, quoth the Queen, (under correction of my Lord the King) I durst lay an hundred pound lack of Newberry was never of that mind, nor is not at this instant: if ye ask him, I warrant he will say so. Myself also had a proof thereof at the Scottish invasion, at what time this man being seized but at six men, brought (at his own cost) an hundred and fifty into the field. I would I had more such subjects said the King, and many of so good a mind. Ho, ho, Harry (quoth Will Summer) then had not Empson and Dudley been chronicled for knaves, nor sent to the Tower for treason. But then they had not known the pain of imprisonment, quoth our King, who with their subtlety grieved many others. But their subtlety was such that it broke their necks, quoth Will Summer. Whereat the King and Queen laughing heartily, rose from the Table. By which time jack of Newberry had caused all his folks to go to their work, that his Grace and all the Nobility might see it, so indeed the Queen had requested. Then came his Highness where he saw a hundred Looms, standing in one room, and two men working in every one, who pleasantly sung on this sort.  

The Weavers Song.  

WHen Hercules did use to spin,  
and Pallas wrought upon the Loom,  
Our trade to flourish did begin,  
while Conscience went not selling Brooms.  
Then love and friendship did agree,  
To keep the band of unity.   

When Princes sons kept sheep in field,  
and Queens made cakes of wheaten flower,  
Then men to lucre did not yield,  
which brought good cheer in every bower.  
Then love and friendship did agree,  
To hold the bands of amity.   

But when that Giants huge and high,  
did fight with spears like Weaver's beams,  
Then they in iron beds did lie,  
and brought poor men to hard extremes.  
Yet love and friendship did agree,  
To hold the bands of amity.   

Then David took his sling and stone,  
not fearing great Goliahs' strength,  
He pierced his brain, and broke the bone,  
though he were fifty foot of length.  
For love and friendship, etc.   

But while the greeks besieged Troy,  
Penelope apace did spin,  
And Weavers wrought with much joy,  
though little gains were coming in.  
For love and friendship, &c,   

Had Helen then sat carding wool,  
(whose beauteous face did breed such strife)  
She had not been sir Paris trull,  
nor caused so many lose their life.  
Yet we by love did still agree, etc.   

Or had King Priam's wanton son  
been making quills with sweet content.  
He had not then his friends undone,  
when he to Greece a gadding went.  
For love and friendship did agree, etc.   

The Cedar tree endures more storms,  
than little shrubs that sprout not high:  
The Weaver lives more void of harms,  
than Princes of great dignity.  
While love and friendship doth agree, etc.   

The Shepherd sitting in the field,  
doth tune his pipe with heart's delight:  
When Princes march with spear and shield,  
the poor man sound sleeps all night.  
While love and friendship doth agree, etc.   

Yet this by proof is daily tried,  
for God's good gifts we are ingrate:  
And no man through the world so wide,  
lives well contented with his state.  
No love nor friendship we can see▪  
To hold the bands of amity.    
Well sung good fellows, said our King: Light hearts and merry minds live long without grey hairs. But (quoth Will Summer) seldom without red noses. Well, said the King, there is a hundred angels to make cheer withal: and look that every year once you make a feast among yourselves, and frankly (every year) I give you leave to fetth four Bucks out of Dunington Park, without any man's let or controwlment. O I beseech your Grace (quoth Will Summer) let it be with a condition. What is that, said our King? My Liege, quoth he, that although the Keeper will have the skins, that they may give their wives the horns. Go to said the Queen, thy head is fuller of knavery, than thy purse is of crowns.  
The poor workmen humbly thanked his Majesty for his bountiful liberality: and ever since, it hath been a custom among the Weaners, every year presently after Bartholmewride, in a remembrance of the King's favour, to meet together, and make a merry feast. His Majesty came next among the spinsters and carders, who were merrily a working: whereat Will Summer fell into a great laughter. What ails the fool to laugh, said the King? Marry (quoth Will Summer) to see these maidens get their living, as Bulls do eat their meat, How is that, said the Queen? By going still backward, quoth Will Sums: and I will lay a wager, that they that practise so well being maids to go backward, will quickly learn ere long to fall backward.  
But sirrah, said the Cardinal, thou didst fall forward when thou brokest thy face in master Kingsmills seller. But you my Lord sat forward (quoth Will Summer) when you sat in the stocks at Sir Amie paulet's. Whereat there was greater laughing than before. The King and Queen, and all the Nobility heedfully beheld these women, who for the most part were very fair and comely creatures, and were all attired alike from top to toe. Then (after due reverence) the maidens in dulcet manner chanted out this Song, two of them singing the Ditty▪ and all the rest bearing the burden.  

The Maiden's Song.  

IT was a Knight in Scotland borne,  
follow my love, leap over the strand:  
Was taken prisoner and left forlorn,  
even by the good Earl of Northumberland.   

Then was he cast in prison strong,  
follow my love leap over the strand:  
Where he could not walk nor lie along,  
even by the good Earl of Northumberland.   

And as in sorrow thus he lay,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
The Earls sweet Daughter walked that way,  
and she the fair flower of Northumberland.   

And passing by like an Angel bright,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
This prisoner had of her a sight,  
and she the fair flower of Northumberland.   

And loud to her this knight did cry,  
follow my come over the strand:  
The salt tears standing in his eye,  
and she the fair flower of Northumberland.   

Fair Lady he said, take pity on me,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
And let me not in prison dye,  
and you the fair flower of Northumberland.   

Fair Sir, how should I take pity on thee,  
follow my love come over the strand:  
Thou being a foe to our Country,  
and I the fair flower of Northumberland.   

Fair Lady, I am no foe he said,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
Through thy sweet love here was I stayed,  
for thee the fair flower of Northumberland.   

Why shouldst thou come here for love of me,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
Having wife and children in thy Country,  
and I the fair flower of Northumberland.   

I swear by the blessed Trinity,  
follow my love come over the strand:  
I have no wife nor children I,  
nor dwelling at home in merry Scotland.   

If courteously you will set me free,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
I vow that I will marry thee,  
so soon as I come in merry Scotland.   

Thou shalt be Lady of Castles and Towers,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
And sit like a Queen in princely bowers,  
when I am at home in fair Scotland,   

Then parted hence this Lady gay,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
And got her father's ring away,  
to help this sad knight into fair Scotland▪   

Likewise much gold she got by sleight,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
And all to help this forlorn knight,  
to wend from her father to fair Scotland.   

Two gallant steeds both good and able,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
She likewise took out of the stable,  
to ride with this knight into fair Scotland.   

And to the jailor she sent this ring,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
The knight from prison forth to bring,  
to wend with her into fair Scotland.   

This token set this prisoner free,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
Who strait went to this fair Lady,  
to wend with her into fair Scotland.   

A gallant steed he did bestride,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
And with the Lady away did ride,  
and she the fair flower of Northumberland.   

They road till they came to a water clear,  
follow my love, come over the strand▪  
Good sir how should I follow you here,  
and I the fair flower of Northumberland.   

The water is rough and wonderful deep,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
And on my saddle I shall not keep,  
and I the fair flower of Northumberland.   

Fear not the ford, fair Lady, quoth he,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
For long I cannot stay for thee,  
and thou the fair flower of Northumberland.   

The Lady pricked her wanton steed,  
follow my love come over the strand:  
And over the river swom with speed,  
and she the fair flower of Northumberland.   

From top to toe all wet was she,  
follow my love come over the strand:  
This have I done for love of thee,  
and I the fair flower of Northumberland.   

Thus road she all one winter's night,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
Till Edenborow they saw in sight,  
the chiefest town in all Scotland.   

Now choose (quoth he) thou wanton flower,  
follow my love come over the strand:  
Whither thou wilt be my Paramour,  
or get thee home to Northumberland.   

For I have wife and children five,  
follow my love come over the strand:  
In Edenborow they be alive,  
then get thee home to fair England.   

This favour shalt thou have to boot,  
follow my love come over the strand:  
I'll have thy horse, go thou a foot,  
go get thee home to Northumberland.   

O false and faithless knight, quoth she,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
And canst thou deal so bad with me,  
and I the fair flower of Northumberland?   

Dishonour not a Lady's name,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
But draw thy sword, and end my shame,  
and I the fair flower of Northumberland.   

He took her from her stately Steed,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
And left her there in extreme need,  
and she the fair flower of Northumberland.   

Then sat she down full heavily,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
At length two knights came riding by,  
two gallant knights of fair England.   

She fell down humbly on her knee,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
Saying, courteous Knights take pity on me,  
and I the fair flower of Northumberland.   

I have offended my father dear,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
All by a false knight that brought me here,  
from the good Earl of Northumberland.   

They took her up behind him then,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
And brought her to her fathers again,  
and he the good Earl of Northumberland.   

All you fair maidens be warned by me,  
follow my love, come over the strand:  
Scots were never true, nor never will be,  
to Lord, to Lady, nor fair England.   
FINIS,   
After the King's Majesty and the Queen had heard this song sweetly sung by them, he cast them a great reward: and so departing thence, went to the Fulling-mils, and Dye-house, where a great many were also hard at work: and his Majesty perceiving what a great number of people were by this one man set on work, both admired, and commended him, saying further, that no Trade in all the Land was so much to been cherished and maintained as this, which, quoth he, may well be called The life of the poor. And as the King returned from this place with intent to take horse and depart, there met him a great many of children in garments of white silk, fringed with gold, their heads crowned with golden Bays, and about their arms each one had a scarf of green sarsenet fast tied, in their hands they bore silver bows, and under their girdles golden arrows.  
The foremost of them represented Diana, Goddess of Chastity, who was attended on by a train of beautiful Nymphs, and they presented to the King four prisoners: The first was a stern and grisly woman, carrying a frowning countenance, and her forehead full of wrinkles, her hair as black as pitch, and her garments all bloody, a great sword she had in her hand all stained with purple gore: they called her name Bellona, Goddess of wars, who had three daughters: the first of them was a tall woman, to lean and il favoured, that her théeke bones were ready to start out of the shin, of a pale and deadly colour: her eyes sunk into her head: her legs so feeble, that they could scantly carry the body; all along her arms & hands through the skin you might tell the sinews, joints and bones: her teeth were very strong and sharp withal: she was so greedy, that she was ready with her teeth to tear the skin from her own arms: her attire was black, and all torn and ragged, she went barefooted and her name was Famine. The second was a strong and lusty woman, with a look pitiless, and unmerciful countenance: her garments were all made of Iron and Steel, and she carried in her hand a naked weapon, and she was called the Sword. The third was also a cruel creature, her eyes did sparkle like burning coals: her hair was like a flame, and her garments like burning brass: she was so hate, that none could stand near her, and they called her name Fire.  
After this they retired again, and brought unto his Highness two other Personages, their countenance was Princely and amiable, their attire most rich and sumptuous: the one carried in his hand a golden Trumpet, and the other a Palm tree: and these were called Fame & Victory, whom the Goddess of Chastity charged to wait upon this famous Prince for ever. This done, each child after other with due reverence, gave unto his Majesty a sweet smelling Gillyflower, after the manner of the Persians, offering something in token of loyalty and obedience. The King and Queen beholding the sweet favour and countenance of these children, demanded of jack of Newberie whose children they were? Who answered: It shall please your Highness to understand, that these are the children of poor people, that do get their living by picking of wool, having scant a good meal once in a week. With that the King began to tell his Gillyflowers, whereby he found that there was 96. children. Certainly, said the Queen, I perceive God gives as fair children to the poor as to the rich, and fairer many times: and though their diet and keeping been but simple, the blessing of God doth cherish them. Therefore said the Queen, I will request to have two of them to wait in my Chamber. Fair Katherine, said the King, thou and I have tumpt in one opinion, in thinking these children utter for the Court than the Country: whereupon he made choice of a dozen more, four he ordained to be Pages to his royal Person, and the rest he sent to the Universities, allotting to every one a Gentleman's living. diverse of the Noblemen did in like sort entertain some of those children into their services, so that (in the end) not one was left to pick wool, but were all so provided for, that their Parents never needed to care for them: and God so blessed them, that each of them came to been men of great account and authority in the Land, whose posterities remain to this day worshipful and famous. The King, Queen, and Nobles, being ready to depart, after great thanks and gifts given to jack of Newberry, his Majesty would have made him Knight, but he meekly refused it, saying, I beseech your Grace let me live a poor Clothier among my people, in whose maintenance I take more felicity, than in all the vain titles of Gentility: for these are the labouring Ants whom I seek to defend, and these be the Bees which I keep: who labour in this life, not for ourselves, but for the glory of GOD, and to do service to our dread Sovereign. Thy Knighthood need be no hindrance of thy Faculty, quoth the King. O my dread Sovereign, said jack, honour and worship may been compared to the Lake of Lethe, which makes men forget themselves that taste thereof: and to the end I may still keep in mind from whence I came, and what I am, I beseech your Grace let me rest in my rufset coat, a poor Clothier to my dying day. Seeing then (said the King) that a man's mind is a Kingdom to himself, I will leave thee to the riches of thy own content, and so farewell. The Queen's Majesty taking her leave of the good wife with a Princely kiss, gave her in token of remembrance a most precious and rich Diamond set in gold, about the which was also curiously set six Rubies, and six Emeralds in one piece, valued at nine hundred Marks: and so her Grace departed. But in this mean space, Will Summer kept company among the maids, and betook himself to spinning as they did, which among them was held as a forfeit of a gallon of wine, but William by no means would pay it, except they would take it out in kisses, rating every kiss at a farthing. This payment we refuse for two causes, quoth the maids: the one, for that we esteem not kisses at so base a rate; and the other, because in so doing we should give as much as you.   

CHAP. four  
How the maidens served Will Summer for his sauciness.  
THe maidens contented together, seeing Will Summer was so busy both with their work and in his words, and would not pay his forfeiture, to serve him as he deserved: first therefore they bound him hands and feet, and set him upright against a post, tying him thereto: which he took in ill part, notwithstanding he could not resist them. And because he let his tongue run at random, they set a fair gag in his mouth, such a one as he could not for his life put away: so that he stood as one gaping for wind. Then one of them got a couple of dogs droppings, and putting them in a bag, laid them in soak in a basin of water, while the rest turned down the collar of his jerkin, and put an housecloath about his neck in stead of a fine towel: then came the other maid with a basin and water in the same, and with the perfume in the pudding-bagge, flapt him about the face and lips, till he looked like a tawny Moor, and with her hand washed him very orderly: the smell being somewhat strong, Will could by no means abide it, and for want of other language, cried, Ah ha ha ha. fain he would have spit, and could not, so that he was fain to swallow down such liquour as he never fasted the like. When he had a pretty while been washed in this sort, at the length he crouched down upon his knees, yielding himself to their favour: which the maidens perceiving, pulled the gag out of his mouth. He had no sooner the liberty of his tongue, but that he cursed and swore like a devil: the maids that could scant stand for laughing, at last asked how he liked his washing? God's 'ounds, quoth he, I was never thus washed, nor ever met with such Barbers since I was borne: let me go, quoth he, and I will give you whatsoever you will demand, wherewith he cast them an English Crown. Nay, quoth one of the Maids, you are yet but washed, but we will shave you ere ye go. Sweet Maids, quoth he, pardon my shaving, let it suffice that you have washed me: if I have done a trespass to your Trade, forgive it me, and I will never hereafter offend you. Tush, said the Maids, you have made our wheels cast their hands, and bruised the teeth of our cards in such sort, as the offence may not be remitted without great penance. As for your gold, we regard it not: therefore as you are perfumed fit for the dogs, so we enjoin you this night to serve all our hogs, which penance, if you will swear wish all speed to perform, we will let you lose. O, quoth Will, the huge Elephant was never more fearful of the silly sheep, than I am of your displeasures: therefore let me lose and I will do it with all diligence. Then they unbound him, and brought him among a great company of Swine, which when Will had well viewed over, he drove out of the yard all the Sows: why how now, quoth the Maids, what mean you by this? Marry, quoth Will these be all sows, and my penance is but to serve the hogs. Is it true, quoth they, have you overtaken us in this sort? Well, look there be not one hog unserved we would advise you. William Summer script up his sleeves very orderly, and clapped an apron about his motley hosen, and taking a pail served the hogs handsomely. When he had given them all meat, he said thus:  

My task is duly done,  
My liberty is won,  
The hogs have eat their crabs,  
Therefore farewell you drabs,   
Nay soft friend, quoth they, the deriest hog of all hath yet had nothing. Where the devil is he, said Will, that I see him not? Wrapped in a motley jerken, quoth they, take thyself by the nose, and thou shalt catch him by the snout. I was never so very a hog, quoth he, but I would always spare from my own belly to give a woman. If thou do not (say they) eat (like the prodigal Child) with thy fellow hogs, we will so shave thee, as thou shalt dearly repent thy disobedience. He seeing no remedy, committed himself to their mercy: and so they let him go. When he came to the Court, he showed to the King all his adventure among the weaver's maidens, whereat the King and Queen laughed heartily.   

CHAP. V.  
Of the pictures which lack of Newberry had in his house, whereby he encouraged his servants to seek for fame and dignity.  
IN a fair large Parlour which was wainscotted round about, jack of Newberie had fifteen fair Pictures hanging, which were covered with Curtains of green silk, fringed with gold, which he would often show to his friends and servants. In the first was the Picture of a shepherd, before whom kneeled a great King named Viriat, who sometime governed the people of Portugal. See here, quoth jack, the father a shepherd, the son a Sovereign. This man ruled in Portugal, and made great wars against the Romans, and after that invaded Spain, yet in the end was traitorously slain.  
The next was the Portraiture of Agathocles, which for his surpassing wisdom and manhood, was created King of Sicilia, and maintained battle against the people of Carthage. His father was a poor Potter, before whom he also kneeled. And it was the use of this King, that whensoever he made a banquet, he would have as well vessels of earth as of gold set upon the Table, to the intent he might always bear in mind the place of his beginning, his Father's house and family.  
The third was the picture of Iphicrates an Athenian born, who vanquished the Lacedomonians in plain and open battle. This man was Captain General to Artaxerxes, King of Persia, whose father was notwithstanding a Cobbler, and there likewise pictured. Eumenes was also a famous Captain to Alexander the great, whose father was no other than a Carter.  
The fourth was the similitude of Aelius Pertinax, sometime Emperor of Rome, yet was his father but a Weaver: and afterward, to give example to others of low condition to bear minds of worthy men, he caused the shop to be beautified with Marble curiously cut, wherein his father before him was wont to get his living.  
The fist was the picture of Dioclesian, that so much adorned Rome with his magnifical and triumphant victories. This was a famous Emperor, although no other than the son of a Béeke-binder. Valentinian stood the next, painted most artificially, who was also crowned Emperor, and was but the son of a poor Rope-maker: as in the same picture was expressed; where his father was painted by him, using his trade.  
The seventh was the Emperor Probus, whose father being a Gardener, was pictured by him holding a spade.  
The eighth picture was of Marcus Aurelius, whom every age honoureth, he was so wise and prudent an Emperor; yet was he but a Cloth-weavers' son.  
The ninth was the Portraiture of the valiant Emperor Maximinus, the son of a Blacksmith, who was there painted as he was wont to work at the Anvil.  
In the tenth table was painted the Emperor Gabianus, who at at the first was but a poor shepherd.  
Next to this picture, was placed the pictures of two Popes of Rome, whose wisdom and learning advanced them to that dignity. The first was the lively Counterfeit of Pope john the 22. whose father was a Shoemaker: he, being elected Pope, increased their rents and patrimante greatly.  
The other was the Picture of Pope Sixtus the fourth of that name, being a poor Mariners son.  
The thirtéenth Picture was of Lamusius, King of Lombardy, who was no better than the son of a common Strumpet: being painted like a naked child's walking in water, and taking hold of the point of a Lance, by the which he held fast, and saved himself. The reason whereof, was this: After his lewd mother was delivered of him, she unnaturally threw him into a deep stinking Ditch, wherein was some water. By hap king Agilmond passed that way, and found this child almost drowned; who moving him softly with the point of his Lance, the better to perceive what he was, the child (though then newly borne) took hold thereof with one of his pretty hands, not suffering it to slide or slip away again: which thing the King considering, being amazed at the strange force of this yongue little Infant, caused it to be taken up, and carefully to be fostered. And because the place where he found him was called Lama, he named the child Lamusius: who afterward grew to be so brave a man, and so much favoured of Fortune, that in the end he was crowned King of the Lombard's, who lived there in honour, and in his succession after him▪ even until the time of the unfortunate King Albovina, when all came to ruin, subversion and destruction.  
In the fourtéenth picture Primislas King of Bohemia was most artificially drawn▪ before whom there stood an Horse without Bridle or Saddle, in a field where Husbandmen were at plough. The cause why this King was thus painted (quoth lack) was this. At that time the King of the Bohemians died without issue, and great strife being amongst the Nobility for a new king, at length they all consented that a horse should been let into the field, without bridle or saddle, having all determined with most assured purpose to make him their king, before whom this horse rested: At what time it came to pass, that the horse first stayed himself before this Primislas, being a simple creature, who was then busy driving the plough, they presently made him their Sovereign, who ordered himself and his kingdom very wisely. He ordaned many good laws, he compassed the City of Prague with strong walls, besides many other things, meriting perpetual laud and commendations.  
The fifteenth was the Picture of The ophrastus, a Philosopher, a counsellor of Kings, and companion of Nobles, who was but son of a Tailor. Seeing then my good servants, that these men have been advanced to high estate and Princely dignities, by wisdom, learning, and diligence, I would wish you to imitate the like virtues, that you might attain the like honours: for which of you doth know what good fortune God hath in store for you? there is none of you so poorly borne, but that men of base birth have come to great honours. The idle hand shall ever go in a ragged garment, and the slothful live in reproach: but such as do lead a virtuous life, and govern themselves discreetly, shall of the best be esteemed, and spend their days in credit.   

CHAP. VI:  
How all the Clothiers in England joined together, & with one consent complained to the King of their great hindrance sustained for want of Traffic into other Countries, whereupon they could get no sale for their Cloth.  
BY means of the wars which our King had with other countries, many Merchant strangers were prohibited for coming to England, as also our own Merchants (in like sort) were forbidden to have dealings with France or the Low-countries: by means whereof the Clothiers had most of their cloth lying on their hands, and that which they sold was at so low a rate, that the money scantly paid for the wool an workmanship. Whereupon they sought to ease themselves by abating the poor workman's wages. And when that did not prevail, they turned away many of their people, Weavers, Shearmen, Spinsters and Carders, so that where there was a hundred Looms kept in one town, there was scant fifty: and he that kept twenty put down ten. Many a poor man (for want of work) was hereby undone, with his wife and children, and it made many a poor widow to sit with a hungry belly. This bred great woe in most places in England. In the end lack of Newberie intended (in the behalf of the poor) to make a Supplication to the King: and to the end he might do it the more effectually, he sent Letters to all the chief clothing towns in England to this effect.  

The Letter.  
Well-beloved friends and brethren, having a taste of the general grief, and feeling (in some measure) the extremity of these times, I fell into consideration by what means we might best expel these sorrows, and recover our former commodity. When I had well thought hereon, I found that nothing was more needful herein, than a faithful unity among ourselves. This sore of necessity can no way be cured but by concord: for like as the flame consumes the candle, so men through discord waste themselves. The poor hate the rich, because they will not set them on work; and the rich hate the poor, because they seem burdenons: so both are offended for want of gain. When Belinus and Brennus were at strife, the Queen their mother in their greatest fury persuaded them to peace, by urging her conception of them in one womb, and mutual cherishing of them from their tender years: so let our Art of Clothing, which like a kind mother hath cherished us with the excellence of her secrets, persuade us to an unity. Though our Occupation be decayed, let us not deal with it as men do by their old shoes, which after they have long borne them out of the mire, do in the end fling them on the dunghill: or as the Husbandman doth by his Bees, who for their Honey burns them. Dear friends, consider that our Trade will maintain us, if we will uphold it: and there is nothing base, but that which is basely used. Assemble therefore yourselves together, and in every town tell the number of those that have their living by means of this Trade, note it in a Bill, and send it to me. And because suits in Court are like Winter nights, long and wearisome, let there be in each place a weekly collection made to defray charges: for I tell you, Noble men's Secretaries and cunning Lawyers have flow tongues and deaf ears, which must been daily anointed with the sweet oil of Angels. Then let two honest discreet men be chosen and sent out of every town to meet me at Black well Hall in London on All Saints Eeve, and then we will present our humble petition to the King. Thus I bid you heartily farewell.   
Copies of this Letter being sealed, they were sent to all the clothing Towns of England, and the Weavers both of linen and woollen gladly received them: so that when all the Bills were brought together, there were found of the Clothiers, and those they maintained, threescore thousand and six hundred persons. Moreover, every clothing Town sending up two men to London, they were found to be an hundred and twelve persons, who in very humble sort fell down before his Majesty walking in S. james his Park, and delivered to him their Petition. The King presently perusing it, asked if they were all Clothiers? Who answered (as it were one man) in this sort: We are (most gracious king) all poor Clothiers, and your Majesty's faithful subjects. My Lords (quoth the king) let these men's complaint be throughly looked into, and their griefs redressed: for I account them in the number of my best Commonwealths men. As the Clergy for the soul, the Soldier for defence of his country, the Lawyer to execute justice, the Husbandman to feed the belly: so is the skilful Clothier no less necessary for the clothing of the back, whom we may reckon among the chief Yeomen of our Land: and as the crystal sight of the eye is tenderly to be kept from harms, because it gives the whole body light: so is the Clothiers, whose cunning hand provides garments to defend our naked parts from the Winter's nipping frost. Many more reasons there are, which may move us to redress their griefs: but let it suffice that I command to have it done. With that, his Grace delivered the Petition to the Lord Chancellor, and all the Clothiers cried, God save the king. But as the king▪ was ready to depart, he suddenly turned about, saying; I remember there is one jack of Newberie, I muse he had not his hand in this business, who professed himself to be a defender of true Labourers. Then said the Duke of Somerset: It may be his purse is answerable for his person. Nay (quoth the Lord Cardinal) all his treasure is little enough to maintain wars against the butterflies. With that jack showed himself unto the king, and privately told his Grace of their grief anew. To whom his Meiesty said: Give thy attendance at the Council Chamber, where thou shalt receive an answer to thy content. And so his Highness departed. Finally, it was agreed that the Merchants should freely traffic one with another, and that Proclamation thereof should be made as well on the other side the Sea, as in our Land: but it was long before this was effected, by reason the Cardinal being Lord Chancellor, put off the matter from time to time. And because the Clothiers thought it not best to depart before it was ended, they gave their daily attendance at the Cardinal's house: but spent many days to no purpose: sometime they were answered, My Lord was busy, and could not be spoke withal; or else he was asleep, & they durst not wake him: or at his study, and they would not disturb him: or at his prayers, and they durst not displease him: and still one thing or other stood in the way to hinder them. At last, Patch the Cardinal's fool, being (by their often repair thither) well acquainted with the Clothiers, came unto them and said: What have you not spoken with my Lord yet? No truly (quoth they) we hear say he is busy, and we stay till his grace▪ be at leisure. Is it true, said Patch? and with that in all haste he went out of the hall, and at last came in again with a great bundle of straw on his back. Why how now Patch (quoth the Gentlemen) what will't thou do with that straw? Marry (quoth he) I will put it under these honest men's feet, lest they should freeze ere they find my Lord at leasury. This made them all to laugh, and caused Patch to bear away his straw again. Well, well, (quoth he) if it cost you a groats worth of faggets at night, blame not me, Trust me (said jack of Newberry) if my Lord Cardinal's father had been no hastier in killing of Calves, than he is in dispatching of poor men's suits, I doubt he had never worn a Mitre. This he spoke betwixt themselves softly, but yet not so softly, but that he was overheard by a flattering Fellow that stood by, who made it known to some of the Gentlemen, and they strait certified the Cardinal thereof.  
The Cardinal (who was of a very high spirit, and a lofty aspiring mind) was marvellously displeased at jack of Newberry: wherefore in his rage he commanded and sent the Clothiers all to prison, because the one of them should not sue for the others releasement. Four days lay these men in the marshalsea, till at last they made their humble Petition to the King for their release: but some of the Cardinal's friends kept it from the king's sight. Notwithstanding, the Duke of Somerset knowing thereof, spoke with the Lord Cardinal about the matter, wishing he would speedily release them, lest it did breed him some displeasure: for you may perceive (quoth the Duke) how highly the King esteems men of that Faculty. Sir, quoth the Cardinal, I doubt not but to answer their imprisonment well enough, being persuaded that none would have given me such a quip but an Heretic: and I dare warrant you were this jack of Newberry well examined, he would been found to be infected with Luther's spirit, against whom our King hath of late written a most learned Book, in respect whereof, the Pope's holiness hath entitled his Majesty Defender of the Faith: therefore I tell you such fellows are fitter to be faggots for fire, than Fathers of Families: notwithstanding (at your Grace's request) I will release them. Accordingly the Cardinal sent for the Clothiers afore him to White hall, his new built house by Westminster, and there bestowing his blessing upon them, said: Though you have offended me I pardon you; for as Steven forgave his enemies that stoned him, and our Saviour those sinful men that crucified him, so do I forgive you that high trespass committed in disgrace of my birth: for herein do men come nearest unto God, in showing mercy and compassion. But see hereafter you offend no more. Touching your suit it is granted, and tomorrow shall be published through London. This being said they departed: and according to the Cardinal's words, their business was ended. The Stillyard Merchant's joyful hereof, made the Clothiers a great banquet. After which, each man departed home, carrying tidings of their good success: so that within short space, Clothing was again very good, and poor men as well set on work as before.   

CHAP. VII.  
How a yongue Italian Merchant coming to jack of Newberies house, was greatly enamoured of one of his maidens, and how he was served.  
AMong other servants which jack of Newberry kept, there was in his house threescore maidens, which every Sunday waited on his wife to Church and home again, who had diverse Offices. Among other, two were appointed to keep the beams and weights, to weigh out wool to the Carders and Spinsters, and to receive it in again by weight. One of them was a comely maiden, fair and lovely, borne of wealthy Parents, and brought up in good qualities, her name was jone: so it was, that a yongue wealthy Italian Merchant, coming oft from London thither to bargain for cloth (for at that time Clothiers most commonly had their cloth bespoken, and half paid for afore hand.) This Master Benedick fell greatly enamoured of this maiden: and therefore offered much courtesy to her, bestowing many gifts on her, which she received thankfully: and albeit his outward countenance showed his inward affection, yet jone would take no knowledge thereof. Half the day sometime would he sit by her, as she was weighing wool, often sighing and sobbing to himself, yet saying nothing, as if he had been tongueless, like the men of Coromandae; and the loather to speak, for that he could speak but bad English. jone on the other side that well perceived his passions, did as it were triumph over him, as one that were bondslave to her beauty, and although she knew well enough before that she was fair, yet did she never so highly esteem of herself as at this present: so that when she heard him either sigh, or sob, or groan, she would turn her face in a careless sort, as if she had been borne (like the woman of Taprobana) without ears. When Master Bennedicke saw she made no reckoning of his sorrows, at length he blabored out this broken English, and spoke to her in this sort. Metreza jone, be me troth and fa, me love you would all mine hart, and if you no shall love me again, me know me shall die, sweet Mistress love a me, & by my fa & troth you shall jack noting. First; me will give you de silk for make you a Frog: Second, de fin fin Camree for make you ruffs, and the turd shall be for make fin handkerchief, for wipe your nose. She mistaking his speech, began to be choleric, wishing him to keep that bodkin to pick his teeth. Ho ho Metresse jone (quoth he) be Got, you be angry. Oh Metresse jone, be no chafe with you friene for noting. Good sir (quoth she) keep your friendship for them that cares for it, and fix your love on those that can like you, as for me I tell you plain, I am not minded to marry. Oh 'tis no matter for marry, if you will come in my chamber, beshit my bed, and let me kiss you. The Maid though she were very much displeased, yet at these words she could not forbear laughing for her life. Ah ah Metresse jone: me is very glad to see you merry, hold Metresse jone, hold your hand I say, & there is four Crown because you laugh on me. I pray you Sir keep your Crowns, for I need them not. Yes be Got you shall have them Metresse jone, to keep in a pox for you. She that could not well understand his broken language, mistook his meaning in many things: & therefore willed him not to trouble her any more. Notwithstanding such was his love toward her, that he could not forbear her company, but made many journeys thither for her sake. And as a certain spring in Arcadia makes men to starve that drink of it: so did poor Bennedicke feeding so did poor Bennedicke feeding his fancy on her beauty: for when he was in London, he did nothing but sorrow, wishing he had wings like the monsters of Tartary, that he might fly to and fro at his pleasure? When any of his friends did tell her of his ardent affection toward her, she wished them to rub him with the sweat of a Mule, to assuage his amorous passion, or to fetch him some of the water in Boetia, to cool & extinguish the heat of his affection: for quoth she, let him never hope to be helped by me. Well, quoth they, before he saw thy alluring face, he was a man reasonable and wise, but is now a stark fool, being by thy beauty bereft of wit, as if he had drunk of the river Cea, & like bewitching Cinrces thou hast certainly transformed him from a man to an Ass. There are stones in Pontus, quoth they, that the deeper they be laid in the water, the fiercer they burn: unto the which fond Lovers may fitly be compared, who the more they are denied, the hotter is their desire: but seeing it is so, that he can find no favour at your hand, we will show him what you have said, and either draw him from his dumps, or leave him to his own will. Then spoke one of the Weavers that dwelled in the Town, and was a kinsman to this maid. I muse (quoth he) that Master Bennedicke will not be persuaded, but like the Moth, will play with the flame that will scorch his wings. Me thinks, he should forbear to love, or learn to speak, or else woe such as can answer him in his language: for I tell you, that jone my kinswoman, is no taste for an Italian. These speeches were told to Bennedicke with no small addition. When our yongue merchant heard the matter so plain, he vowed to be revenged of the Weaver, and to see if he could find any more friendship of his wife: therefore dissembling his sorrow and covering his grief, with speed he took his journey to Newberie, and pleasantly saluted Mistress jone: and having his purse full of crowns, he was very liberal to the workefolkes, especially to jones kinsman, insomuch, that he got his favour many times to go forth with him, promising him very largely to do great matters, and to lend him a hundred pound, wishing him to be a servant no longer, beside he liberally bestowed on his wife many gifts, and if she washed him but a band, he would give her an Angel: if he did but send her child for a quart of Wine, he would give him a shilling for his pains. The which his courtesy changed the Weaver's mind, saying he was a very honest Gentleman, and worthy to have one far better than his kinswoman.  
This pleased master Bennedick well to hear him say so, notwithstanding he made light of the matter, and many times when the Weaver was at his Masters at work, the Merchant would be at home with his wife, drinking and making merry. At length time bringing acquaintance, and often conference breeding familiarity, master Bennedick began somewhat boldly to jest with Gillian, saying that her fight and sweet countenance, had quite reclaimed his love from jone, and that she only was the mistress of his heart: and if she would lend him her love, he would give her gold from Arabia, orient pearls from India, and make her bracelets of most precious Diamonds. Thy garments shall be of the finest silk that is made in Venice, and thy purse shall still be stuffed with Angels. Tell me thy mind my love, and kill me not with unkindness, as did thy scornful kinswoman, whose disdain had almost cost me my life. O master Bennedicke, think not the wives of England can be won by rewards, orenticed with fair words, as children are with Plums: it may be that you being merrily disposed, do speak this to try my constancy. Know then, that I esteem more the honour of my good name, than the styding wealth of the world. Master Bennedick hearing her say so, desired her, that considering it was love that forced his tongue to bewray his hearts ardent affection, that yet she would be secret: and so for that time took his leave. When he was gone, the woman began to call her wits together, and to consider of her poor estate, and withal the better to note the comeliness of her person, and the sweet favour of her face: which when she had well thought upon, she began to harbour new thoughts, and to entertain contrary affections, saying, Shall I content myself to be wrapped in sheep's russet that may swim in silks, & sit all day carding for a great, that can have crowns at my command? No, quoth she, I will no more bear so base a mind, but take Fortune's favours while they are to be had. The sweet Rose doth flourish but one month, nor women's beauties but in yongue years. As the Winter's frost consumes the Summer flowers, so doth old age banish pleasant delight. O glorious gold, quoth she, how sweet is thy smell? how pleasing is thy sight? Thou subduest Princes, and overthrowest kingdoms, then how should a silly woman withstand thy strength? Thus she rested meditating on preferment, purposing to hazard her honesty to maintain herself in bravery: even as occupiers corrupt their consciences to gather riches. Within a day or two master Bennedicke came to her again on whom she cast a smiling countenance: which he perceiving (according to his old custom) sent for Wine, and very merry they were. At last, in the midst of their cups, he cast out his former question: and after farther conference, she yielded, and appointed a time when he should come to her: for which favour, he gave her half a dozen portigues. Within an hour or two after entering into her own conscience, bethinking how sinfully she had sold herself to folly, began thus to expostulate. Good Lord; quoth she, shall I break that holy vow which I made in marriage, and pollute this body of mine which the Lord hath sanctified? Can I break the commandment of my God, and not rest accursed? or be a traitor to my husband, & suffer no shame? I heard once my brother read in a book, that Bucephalus, Alexander's Steed, being a beast, would not be backed by any but the Emperor, and shall I consent to any but my husband? Artemisa being a Heathen Lady, loved her husband so well, that she drunk up his ashes, and buried him in her own bowels, and should I, being a Christian, cast my Husband out of my heart? The Women of Rome were wont to crown their Husband's heads with Bays, in token of victory, and shall I give my husband horns in token of infamy? An Harlot is hated of all virtuous minded people, and shall I make myself a Whore? O my God forgive my sin, quoth she, and cleanse my heart from these wicked imaginations. And as she was thus lamenting, her husband came home: at whose sight her tears were doubled, like unto a river whose stream is increased by showers of rain. Her husband seeing this, would needs know the cause of her sorrow: but a great while she would not show him, casting many a piteous look upon him, and shaking her head, at last she said, O my dear husband, I have offended against God and she, and made such a trespass by my tongue, as hath cut a deep scar in my conscience, and wounded my heart with grief like a Sword: like Penelope see have I been wooed, but like Penelope I have not answered. Why woman, quoth he, what is the matter? If it be but the bare offence of thy tongue why shouldest thou so grieve? considering that women's tongues are like Lambs tails, which seldom stand still? And the Wise man saith, Where much talk is, must needs be some offence. women's beauties are fair marks for wand'ring eyes to shoot at: but as every Archer hits not the white, so every Wooer wins not his mistress favour. All Cities that are besieged are not sacked, nor all women to been misliked that are loved. Why wife, I am persuaded thy faith is more firm, and thy constancy greater to withstand Lovers alarms, than that any other but myself should obsaine the fortress of thy heart. O sweet husband (quoth she) we see the strongest Lower, at length falleth down by the Canon's force, though the Bullets be but Iron: then how can the weak Bulwark of a Woman's breast make resistance, when the hot Canons of deep persuading words are shot off with golden Bullets, and every one as big as a Portigue? If it be so wife, I may think myself in a good case, and you to be a very honest woman. As Mars and Venus danced naked together in a Net, so I doubt, you and some knave have played naked together in a bed: but in faith thou quean, I will send she to salute thy friends without a Nose: and as thou hast sold thy honesty, so will I sell thy company. Sweet Husband, though I have promised, I have performed nothing: every bargain is not effected, and therefore as judas brought again the thirty silver plates, for the which he betrayed his Master: so repenting my folly, I'll cast him again his gold, for which I should have wronged my Husband. Tell me, quoth her husband, what he is. It is master Bennedicke▪ quoth she, which for my love hath left the love of our kinswoman, and hath vowed himself for ever to live my servant. O dissembling Italian, quoth he, I will be revenged on him for this wrong. I know that any favour from jone our kinswoman, will make him run like unto a man bitten with a mad dog: therefore be ruled by me, and thou shalt see me dress him in his kind. The woman was very well pleased, saying he would be there that night. All this works well with me, quoth her husband, and to supper will I invite jone my kinswoman, and in the mean space make up the bed in the Pariour very decently. So the goodman went forth, and got a sleepy drench from the Apothecaries, the which he gave to a yongue Sow, which he had in his yard, and in the evening laid her down in the bed in the Parlour, drawing the Curtains round about. Supper time being come, master Bennedicke gave his attendance, looking for no other company but the good wife: Notwithstanding at the last mistress jone came in with her kinsman, and sat down to supper with him. Master Bennedicke musing at their sudden approach, yet nevertheless glad of mistress jones company, past the supper time with many pleasant conceits, jone showing herself that night more pleasant in his company than at any time before: wherefore he gave the good man great thanks. Good master Bennedicke, little do you think how I have traveled in your behalf to my kinswoman, and very much ado I had to bring the peevish Wench into any good liking of your love: notwithstanding by my very great diligence and persuasions, I have at length won her good will to come hither, little thinking to find you here, or any such good cheer to entertain her: all which I see is fallen out for your profit. But trust me, all the world cannot now alter her mind, nor turn her love from you: In regard whereof, she hath promised me to lie this night in my house, for the great desire the hath of your good company: and in requital of all your great courtesies showed to me, I am very well content to bring you to her bed. Marry this you must consider, and so she had me tell you, that you should come to bed with as little noise as you could, and tumble nothing that you find, for fear of her best gown and her hat, which she will lay hard by the bed side, next her best partlet, and in so doing, you may have company with her all night, but say nothing in any case till you be a bed: O quoth he▪ Mater jan, be Got Mater jan, me will not spoil her clothes for a thousand pound, ah me love metres john more than my wife. Well, supper being done, they rose from the table. Master Bennedick embracing mistress jone, thanked her for her great courtesy and company, and then the good man and he walked into the Town, and jone hied her home to her masters, knowing nothing of the intended jest. Master Bennedicke thought every hour twain, till the Sun was down, and that he were a bed with his beloved. At last he had his wish, and home he came to his friend's house. Then said john, master Bennedick you must not in any case have a candle when you go into the chamber, for then my kinswoman will be angry, and dark places sits best Lover's desires, O Mater jan, quoth he, it's no such matter for light, me shall find Metres loan will enough in the dark. And entering in the parlour, groping about, he felt a gown and hat. O Metres jone (quoth he) here is your gown and hat, me shall no hurt for a thousand pound. Then kneeling down by the bed side, instead of mistress jone, he saluted the sow in this sort. O my love and my delight, it is thy fair face that hath wounded my heart, thy grey sparkling eyes, and thy Lily white hands, with the comely proportion of thy pretty body, that made me in seeking thee to forget myself, & to find thy favour, lose my own freedom: but now is the time come wherein I shall reap the fruits of a plentiful harvest. Now my dear, from thy sweet mouth let me suck the honey balm of thy breath, and with my hand struck those Rosy checks of thine, wherein I have taken such pleasure, Come with thy pretty lips and entertain me into thy bed with one gentle kiss: Why speakest thou not my sweet heart, and stretch out thy Alabaster arms to enfold thy faithful friend? Why should ill pleasing sleep close up the crystal windows of thy body so fast, and bereave thee of thy five Lordly attendants, where with thou wast wont to salute thy friends? let it not offend thy gentle ears that I thus talk to thee. If thou hast vowed not to speak, I will not break it: and if thou wilt command me to be silent, I will be dumb: but thou needest not fear to speak thy mind, seeing the cloudy night concealeth every thing. By this time Master Bennedicke was unready, and slipped into bed, where the Sow lay swathed in a sheet, and her head bound in a great linen cloth: As soon as he was laid, he began to embrace his new bedfellow, and laying his lips somewhat near her snout, he felt her draw her breath very short. Why how now love (quoth he) be you sick, be Got mistress jone your breat be very strong: have you no cack a bed? The Sow feeling herself disturbed, began to grunt and keep a great stir: whereat master Benedick (like a mad man) ran out of the bed, crying, the devil de devil. The good man of the house (being purposely provided) came rushing in with half a dozen of his neighbours, ask what was the matter. God ound (quoth Benedick) here be the great devil, cry hoh, hoh, hoh, be Gossen I think you play the knave wid me, and me will be revenge be Got. Sir, quoth he, I knowing you loved mutton, thought pork nothing unfit: & therefore provided you a whole Sow, and as you like this entertainment, spend Portagues. Walk, walk, Berkshire maids will be no Italians strumpets, nor she wives of Newberry their hands. Berkshire dog (quoth Benedick) owl face shack hang dou and die veife, have it not be for me love to sweet Mettresse lone, I will no come in your houz: but farewell tell I cash you, be Go bode, I make your hog nose bud: The good man and his neighbours laughed aloud, away went master Benedick, and for very shame departed from Newberry before day.   

CHAP. VIII.  
How jack of Newberie keeping a very good house, both for his servants and relief of the poor, won great credit thereby: and how one of his wives gossips found fault therewith.  
GOod morrow good Gossip: now by my truly I am glad to see you in health. I pray you how doth master Winchcomb? What never a great belly yet? now fie: by my fa your husband is waxed idle: Trust me gossip, saith mistress Winchcomb, a great belly comes sooner than a new coat: but you must consider we have not been long married. But truly gossip you are welcome: I pray you to sit down, and we will have a morsel of something by and by. Nay truly gossip, I cannot stay, quoth she, in troth I must be gone: for I did but even step in to see how you did. You shall not choose but stay a while, quoth mistress Winchcomb: and with that a fair napkin was laid upon the little table in the Parlour, hard by the fire side, whereon was set a good cold Capon, with a great deal of other good cheer, with ale and wine plenty: I pray you good Gossip eat, and I beshrew you if you spare quoth the one, I thank you heartily good Gossip saith the other. But good gossip I pray you tell me: doth your husband love you well▪ and make much of you? yes truly I thank God quoth she: now by my troth said the other, it were a shame for him if he should not: for though I say it before your face, though he had little with you, yet you were worthy to be as good a man's wife as his. Trust me, I would not change my john for my lord marquis, quoth she, a woman can be but well, for I live at hearts ease, & have all things at will, & truly he will not see me lack any thing, marry God's blessing on his hart quoth her Gossip, it is a good hearing: but I pray you tell me▪ I heard say your husband is chosen for our Burgess in the Parliament house, is it true? Yes verily quoth his wife: I wis it is against his will: for it will be no small charges unto him. Lush woman, what talk you of that? thanks be to God, there is never a Gentleman in all Berkshire that is better able to bear it. But hear you gossip, shall I be so bold to ask you one question more? Yes, with all my heart, quoth she. I heard say that your husband would now put you in your hood and silk gown, I pray you is it true? Yes in truth, quoth mistress Winchcomb, but far against my mind Gossip: my french-hood is bought already, and my silk gown is a making: likewise the Goldsmith hath brought home my chain and bracelets: but I assure you gossip, if you will believe me, I had rather go an hundred miles than wear them: for I shall be so ashamed that I shall not look upon any of my neighbours for blushing. And why, I pray you? quoth her Gossip, I tell you dear woman, you need not be any thing abashed or blush at the matter, especially seeing your husband's estate is able to maintain it: now trust me truly, I am of opinion you will become it singular well. Alas, quoth mistress Winchcomb, having never been used to such attire, I shall not know where I am, nor how to behave myself in it: and beside, my complexion is so black, that I shall carry but an ill favoured countenance under a hood. Now, without doubt (quoth her Gossip) you are too blame to say so: beshrew my heart if I speak it to flatter, you are a very fair and well favoured yongue woman, as any is in Newberie. And never fear your behaviour in your hood: for I tell you true▪ as old and withered as I am myself, I could become a hood well enough, and behave myself as well in such attire, as any other whatsoever, and I would not learn of never a one of them all: what woman, I have been a pretty wench in my days, and seen some fashions. Therefore you need not to fear, seeing both your beauty and comely personage deserves no less than a french-hood: and be of good comfort. At the first (possible) folks will gaze something at you: but be not you abashed for that, it is better they should wonder at your good fortune, than lament at your misery: but when they have seen you two or three times in that attire, they will afterward little respect it: for every new thing at the first seems rare, but being once a little used, it grows common. Surely Gossip you say true, (quoth she) and I am but a fool to been so bashful: it is no shame to use God's gifts for our credits, and well might my husband think me unworthy to have them, if I would not wear them: and though I say it, my hood is a fair one, as any woman wears in this Country, and my gold chain and bracelets are none of the worst sort, and I will show them you, because you shall give your opinion upon them: and therewithal she stepped into her chamber and fetched them forth. When her Gossip saw them, she said: Now beshrew my fingers but these are fair ones indeed. And when do you mean to wear them Gossip? At Whitsuntide (quoth she) if God spare me life. I wish that well you may wear them, said her Gossip, and I would I were worthy to be with you when you dress yourself, it should be never the worse for you, I would order the matter so, that you should set every thing about you in such sort, as never a Gentlewoman of them all should stain you. Mistress Winchcomb gave her great thanks for her favour, saying, that if she needed her help, she would be bold to send for her.  
Then began her Gossip to turn her tongue to another tune, and now to blame her for her great house keeping. And thus she began: Gossip, you are but a yongue woman, and one that hath had no great experience of the World, in my opinion you are something too lavish in expenses: pardon me good Gossip, I speak but for good will; and because I love you, I am the more bold to admonish you: I tell you plain, were I the mistress of such a house, having such large allowance as you have, I would save 20. pound a year that you spend to no purpose. Which way might that been (quoth Mistress Winchcomb?) indeed I confess I am but a grieve huswife, and one that hath had but small trial in the World, therefore I should be very glad to learn any thing that were for my husband's profit and my commodity. Then listen to me quoth she: You feed your folks with the best of the beef, and the finest of the wheat, which in my opinion is a great overfight: neither do I hear of any Knight in this country that doth it. And to say the truth, how were they able to bear that port which they do, if they saved it not by some means? Come thither, and I warrant you that you shall see but brown bread on the board: if it been wheat and rye mingled together, it is a great matter, and the bread highly commended: but most commonly they eat either barley bread, or rye mingled with pease, and such like course grain: which is doubtless, but of small price, and there is no other bread allowed, except at their own board. And in like manner for their meat: it is well known, that neekes and points of beef is their ordinary sare: which because it is commonly lean, they seeth therewith now and then a piece of bacon or pork, whereby they make their pottage fat, and therewith drives out the rest with more content. And thus must you learn to do. And beside that, the midriffes of the Oxen, and the cheeks, the sheep's heads, and the gathers, which you give away at your gate, might serve them welenough: which would been a great sparing to your other meat, and by this means you would save in the year much money, whereby you might the better maintains your hood and silk gown. Again, you serve your folks with such superfluities, that they spoil in a manner as much as they eat: believe me were I their Dame, they should have things more sparingly, and then they would think it more dainty. Trust me Gossip (quoth Mistress Winchcomb) I know your words in many things to be true: for my folks are so corn fed, that we have much ado to please them in their diet: one doth say this is too salt, and another saith this is too gross, this is too fresh, and that too fat, and twenty faults they will find at their meals: I warrant you they make such parings of their cheese, and keep such chipping of their bread, that their very orts would serve two or three honest folks to their dinner. And from whence I pray you proceeds that (quoth her Gossip) but of too much plenty? but i'faith were they my servants, I would make them glad of the worst crumbs they cast away, and thereupon I drink to you, and I thank you for my good cheer with all my heart. Much good may it do you good gossip said mistress Winchcomb: and I pray you when you come this way let us see you. That you shall verily, quoth she, and so away she went.  
After this, mistress Winchcomb took occasion to give her folks shorter commons, and courser meat than they were wont to have: which at longth being come to the good man's care, he was very much offended therewith, saying: I will not have my people thus pinched of their victuals. Empty platters makes greedy stomaches, and where scarcity is kept, hunger is nourished: and therefore wife as you love me, let me have no more of this doings. Husband (quoth she) I would they should have enough: but it is sin to suffer, and a shame to see the spoil they make: I could been very well content to give them their bellies full, and that which is sufficient, but it grieves me, to tell you true, to see how coy they are, and the small care they have in wasting of things: and I assure you, the whole Town cries shame of it, and it hath bred me no small discredit for looking no better to it. Trust me no more, if I was not checked in my own house about this matter, when my ears did burn to hear what was spoken. Who was it that checked she, I pray thee tell me? was it not your old gossip, dame dainty, mistress trip and go? I believe it was. Why manif it were she, you know she hath been an old housekéeper, and one that hath known the World, and that she told me was for good will. Wife (quoth he) I would not have thee to meddle with such light brained huswives, and so I have told thee a good many times, and yet I cannot get you to leave her company. Leave her company? why husband, so long as she is an honest woman, why should I leave her company? She never gave me hurtful counsel in all her life, but hath always been ready to tell me things for my profit, though you take it not so▪ Leave her company? I am no girl I would you should well know, to been taught what company I should keep: I keep none but honest company, I warrant you. Leave her company ketha? Alas poor souls, this reward she hath for her good will. I wis, I wis, she is more your friend, than you are your own. Well, let her been what she will, said her husband: but if she come any more in my house, she were as good no. And therefore take this for a warning I would advise you: and so away he went.   

CHAP. IX.  
How a Draper in London, who owed lack of Newberry much money became bankrupt, whom lack of Newberry found carrying a porters basket on his neck, and how he set him up again at his own cost, which Draper afterward became an Alderman of London.  
THeré was one Randoll Pert a Draper, dwelling in Watling-streete, that owed lack of Newberry five hundred pounds at one time, who in the end fell greatly to decay, in so much that he was cast in prison, and his wife with her poor children turned out of doors. All his creditors except Winchcomb had a share of his goods, never releasing him out of prison, so long as he had one penny to satisfy them. But when this tidings was brought to lack of Newberies ear, his friends counselled him to lay his action against him. Nay (quoth he) if he be not able to pay me when he is at liberty, he will never be able to pay me in prison: and therefore it were as good for me to forbear my money without troubling him, as to add more sorrow to his grieved heart, and be never the nearer. Misery is trodden down by many, and once brought low, they are seldom or never relieved: therefore he shall rest for me untouched, and I would to God he were clear of all other men's debts, so that I gave him mine to begin the world again. Thus lay the poor Draper a long time in prison, in which space, his Wife which before for daintiness would not foul her fingers, nor turn her head aside, for fear of hurting the set of her neckenger, was glad to go about and wash bucks at the Thames side, and to been a charwoman in rich men's houses, her soft hand was now hardened with scouring, and in stead of gold rings upon her lily fingers, they were now filled with chaps, proveked by the sharp lée, and other drudgerées. At last, Master Winchcomb being (as you heard) chosen against the Parliament a Furgesse for the town of Newberie, and coming up to London for the same purpose, when he was alighted at his Inn, he left one of his men there, to get a Porter to bring his trunk up to the place of his lodging. Poor Randoll Pert, which lately before was come out of prison, having no other means of maintenance, became a Porter to carry burdens from one place to another, having an old ragged doublet, and a torn pair of breeches, with his hose out at the heels, and a pair of old broken slip shoes on his feet, a rope about his middle in stead of a girdle, and on his head an old greasy cap, which had so many holes in it, that his hair started through it: who as soon as he heard one call for a Porter, made answer strait: here master, what is it that you would have carried? Marry (quoth he) I would have this Trunk borne to the spread Eagle at juiebridge. You shall Master (quoth he:) but what will you give me for my pains? I will give thee two pence. A penny more and I will carry it, said the Porter: and so being agreed, away he went with his burden, till he came to the spread Eagle door, where on a sudden espying Master Winchcomb standing, he cast down the Trunk, and ran away as hard as ever he could. Master Winchcomb wondrying what he meant thereby, caused his man to run after him, and to fetch him again: but when he saw one pursue him, he ran then the faster; and in running, here he lost one of his slip shoes, and there another: ever looking behind him, like a man pursued with a deadly weapon fearing every twinkling of an eye to been thrust thorough. At last his bréech, being tie but with one point, what with the haste he made, and the weakness of the thong, fell about his heels: which so shackled him, that down he fell in the street all along, sweeting and blowing, being quite worn out of breath: and so by this means the Servingman ourtooke him, and taking him by the sleeve, being as windless as the other, stood blowing and puffing a great while ere they could speak one to another. Sirrah, quoth the Serving man, you must come to my Master, you have broken his Trunk all to pieces, by letting it fall. O for God's sake (quoth he) let me go, for Christ's sake let me go, or else Master Winchcomb of Newberry will arrest me, and then I am undone for ever. Now by this time lack of Newberry had caused his Trunk to be carried into the house, and then he walked along to know what the matter was: but when he heard the Porter say that he would arrest him, he wondered greatly, and having quite forgot Perte favour, being so greatly changed by imprisonment and poverty, he said, Wherefore should I arrest thee? tell me good fellow: for my own part I know no reason for it. O Sir (quoth he) I would to God I knew none neither. Then ask him what his name was: the poor man falling down on his knees, said: Good Master Winchcomb bear with me and cast me not into prison: my name is Pert, and I do not deny but that I owe you five hundred pound: yet for the love of God take pity upon me. When Master Winchcomb heard this, he wondered greatly at the man, and did as much pity his misery, though as yet he made it not known, saying: Passion of my heart man, thou wilt never pay me thus: never think being a Porter to pay five hundred pound debt. But this hath your prodigality brought you to, your thriftless neglecting of your business, that set more by your pleasure than your profit. Then looking better upon him, he said, What, never a shoe to thy foot, hose to thy leg, band to thy neck, nor cap to thy head? O Pert, this is strange: but wilt thou be an honest man, & give me a bill of thy hand for my money? Yes sir, with all my hart, quoth Pert. Then come to the Scriveners, quoth he, and dispatch it, and I will not trouble thee. Now when they were come thither, with a great many following them at their heels, master Winchcomb said: Hearest thou Scrivener? this fellow must give me a bill of his hand for five hundred pounds, I pray thee make it as it should been. The Scrivener looking upon the poor man, and seeing him in that case, said to master Winchcomb: Sir, you were better to let it be a Bond, and have some sureties bound with him. Why Scrivener (quoth he) dost thou think this is not a sufficient man of himself for five hundred pound? Truly Sir (said the Scrivener) if you think him so, you and I are of two minds. I'll tell thee what (quoth Master Winchcomb) were it not that we are all mortal, I would take his word as soon as his Bill or Bond; the honesty of a man is all. And we in London (quoth the Scrivener) do trust Bonds far better than honesty. But Sir, when must this money be paid? Marry Scrivener, when this man is Sheriff of London. At that word the Scrivener and the people standing by laughed heartily, saying: In truth Sir, make no more ado but forgive it him: as good to do the one as the other. Nay, believe me (quoth he) not so: therefore do as I bid you. Whereupon the Scrivener made the Bill to be paid when Randoll Pert was Sheriff of London, and thereunto set his own hand for a witness, and twenty persons more that stood by, set to their hands likewise. Then he asked Pert what he should have for carrying his trunk. Sir (quoth he) I should have three pence, but seeing I find you so kind, I will take but two pence at this time. Thanks good Pert. quoth he, but for thy three pence, there is three shillings: and look thou come to me to morrow morning betimes. The poor man did so, at what time master Winchcomb had provided him out of Burchen-lane, a fair suit of apparel, Merchant like, with a fair black cloak, and all other things fit to the same: then he took him a shop in Canweek street, and furnished the same shop with a thousand pounds worth of cloth: by which means, and other favours that master Winchcomb did him, he grew again into great credit, and in the end became so wealthy, that while master Winchcomb lived he was chosen Sheriff, at what time he paid five hundred pounds every penny, and after died an Alderman of the City.   

CHAP. X.  
How lack of Newberies servants were revenged of their Dames tattling Gossip.  
Upon a time it came to pass, when master Winchcomb was far from home, and his wife gone abroad: That mistress many better, dame tittle tattle, Gossip pintpot, according to her old custom came to mistress Winchcombes house, perfectly knowing of the good man's absence, and little thinking the good wife was from home: where knocking at the gate, Tweedle stepped out and asked who was there? where hastily opening the wicket, he suddenly discovered the full proportion of this foul beast, who demanded if their mistress were within. What mistress Frank (quoth he) in faith welcome: how have you done a great while? I pray you come in. Nay, I cannot stay, quoth she: Notwithstanding, I did call to speak a word or two with your mistress, I pray you tell her that I am here. So I will (quoth he) so soon as she comes in. Then said the woman, What is she abroad? why then farewell good Tweedle: why what haste, what haste, mistress Frank, (quoth he) I pray you stay and drink ere you go. I hope a cup of new Sack will do your old belly no hurt: what (quoth she) have you new Sack already? Now by my honesty I drunk none this year, and therefore I do not greatly care if I take a taste before I go: and with that she went into the wine-cellar with Tweedle, where first he set before her a piece of powdered beef as green as a leek: And then going into the kitchen, he brought her a piece of roasted beef hot from the spit. Now certain of the maidens of the house, and some of the yangue men, who had long before determined to be revenged of this prattling huswife: came into the Cellar one after another, one of them bringing a great piece of a gammon of Bacon in his hand: and every one bad mistress Frank welcome: and first one drunk to her, and then another, and so the third, the fourth, and the fifth: so that mistress Frankes brains wart as mellow as a Pippin at Michaelmas, and so light, that sitting in the Cellar, she thought the world ran round. They seeing her to fall into merry humours, whetted her on in merriment as much as they could, saying, Mistress Frank, spare not I pray you, but think yourself as welcome as any woman in all Newberie, for we have cause to love you, because you love our Mistress so well. Now by my troth (quoth she, lisping in her speech; her tongue waxing somewhat too big for her mouth) I love your Mistress well indeed, as if she were mine own daughter. Nay but hear you, quoth they, she begins not to deal well with us now. No my Lambs, quoth she, why so? Because, quoth they, she seeks to bar us of our allowance, telling our Master, that he spends too much in housekeeping. Nay then (quoth she) your Mistress is both an Ass, and a Fool: and though she go in her Hood, what care I? she is but a girl to me: Twittle twattle, I know what I know: Go too, drink to me. Well Tweedle, I drink to she with all my heart: why thou whoreson, when wilt thou be married? O that I were a yongue wench for thy sake: but 'tis no matter, though I be but a poor woman, I am a true woman. Hang dogs, I have dwelled in this town these thirty winters. Why then, quoth they, you have dwelled here longer than our Master. Your Master, quoth she? I knew your Master a boy, when he was called lack of Newberie, I lack, I knew him called plain lack: and your mistress, now she is rich and I am poor, but it's no matter, I knew her a draggle tail girl, mark ye? But now, quoth they, she takes upon her lustily, and hath quite forgot what she was. Tush, what will you have of a green thing, quoth she? here I drink to you, so long as she goes where she list a gossiping: and it's no matter, little said is soon amended: But hear you my masters, though mistress Winchcomb go in her Hood, I am as good as she, I care not who tell it her: I spend not my husband's money in Cherries and coddlings, go too, go too, I know what I say well enough: I thank God I am not drunk: Mistress Winchcomb, mistress? No Nan Winchcomb, I will call her name, plain Nan: what, I was a woman when she was sir-reverence a paltry girl, though now she goes in her Hood and Chain of Gold: what care I for her? I am her elder, and I know more of her tricks: nay I warrant you, I know what I say, 'tis no matter, laugh at me and spare not, I am not drunk I warrant: and with that being scant able to hold open her eyes, she began to nod, and to spill the Wine out of the Glass: which they perceiving, let her alone, going out of the Cellar till she was sound asleep, and in the mean space they devised how to finish this piece of knavery. At last they all consented to lay her forth at the back side of the house, half a mile off, even at the foot of a Style, that whosoever came next over, might find her: notwithstanding, Tweedle stayed hard by to see the end of this action. At last comes a notable Clown from Gréeneham, taking his way to Newberry: who coming hastily over the Style, stumbled at the woman, and fell down clean over her. But in his starting up, seeing it was a woman, cried out, Alas▪ alas. How now, what is the matter, quoth Tweedle? O, quoth he, here lies a dead woman. A dead woman, quoth Tweedle, that's not so I trow, and with that he tumbled her about: bones of me (quoth Tweedle) 'tis a drunken woman, and one of the Town undoubtedly: in troth it is great pity she should lie here. Why do you know her quoth the Clown? no not I, quoth Tweedle, nevertheless, I will give thee half a groat and take her in thy Basket, and carry her throughout the Town, and see if any body know her. Then said the other, let me see the money and I will: For by the Mass, she earned not half a great this great while. There it is, quoth Tweedle: then the fellow put her in his Basket, and so lifted her upon his back. Now by the Mass she stinks vilely of Drink, or Wine, or some thing. But tell me, What shall I say when I come into the Town, quoth he? First, quoth Tweedle, I would have thee so soon as ever thou canst get to the Town's end, with a lusty voice to cry, O yes, and then say, Who knows this woman, who? And though possible some will say, I know her, and I know her; yet do not thou set her down till thou comest to the Market Cross, and there use the like words: and if any be so friendly, to tell she where she dwells, then just before her door cry so again: and if thou perform this bravely, I will give thee half a groat more. Master Tweedle (quoth he) I know you well enough, you dwell with Master Winchcomb, do you not? I faith if I do it not in the nick, give me never a penny: And so away he went, till he came to the Town's end, and there he cries out as boldly as any Bailiffs man, O yes, who knows this woman, who? Then said the drunken woman in the Basket, her head falling first on one side, and then on the other side, Who co me, who? Then said he again, Who knows this woman, who? Who co me, who? (quoth she) and look how oft he spoke the one, she spoke the other: saying still, Who co me, who come, who? Whereat all the people in the street fell into such a laughter▪ that the tears ran down again. At last one made answer▪ saying: God fellow, she dwells in the North brook street, a little beyond Master Winchcombes. The fellow hearing that, goes down thither in all haste, and there in the hearing of a hundred people, cries, Who knows this woman, who? Whereat her husband comes out, saying ● Marry that do I too well, God help me. Then said the Clown, If you know her, take her: for I know her not but for a drunken beast. And as her husband took her out of the Basket, she gave him a sound box on the ear, saying, What you Qneanes, do you mock me? and so was carried in. But the next day, when her brain was quiet, and her head cleared of these foggy vapours, she was so ashamed of herself, that she went not forth of her doors a long time after: and if any body did say unto her, Who come, who? she would be so mad and furious, that she would be ready to draw her knife and stick them, and scold, as if she strove for the best game at the cucking stool. Moreover, her prattling to mistress Winchcombes folks of their mistress, made her on the other side to fall out with her, in such sort, that she troubled them no more, either with her company or her counsel.   

CHAP. XI.  
How one of lack of Newberies maids became a Lady.  
AT the winning of Morlesse in France, the noble Earl of Surrey being at that time Lard high Admiral of England, made many Knights: among the rest was Sir George Rigley, brother to Sir Edward Rigley, and sundry other, whose valours far surpassed their wealth: so that when peace bred a scarcity in their purse, and that their credits grew weak in the City, they were enforced to ride into the Country, where at their friends houses they might have favourable welcome, without coin or grudging. Among the rest, lack of Newberie that kept a table for all comers, was never lightly without many such guests: where they were sure to have both welcome and good cheer, and their mirth no less pleasing than their meat was plenty. Sir George having lain long at board in this brave Yeoman's house, at length fell in liking of one of his maidens, who was as fair as she was fond.  
This lusty wench he so alured with hope of marriage, that at length she yielded him her love, and therewithal bend her whole study to work his content: but in the end, she so much contented him, that it wrought altogether her own discontent: to become high▪ she laid herself so low, that the Knight suddenly fell over her, which fall became the rising of her bellry. But when this wanton perceived herself to be with child, she made her moan unto the Knight in this manner.  
Ah Sir George, now is the time to perform your promise, or to make me a spectacle of in famy to the whole world for ever: in the one you shall discharge the duty of a true knight, but in the other show yourself a most perjured person. Small honour will if be to boast in the spoil of poor maidens, whose innocence all good Knights ought much rather to defend. Why thou lewd paltry thing (quoth he) comest thou to father thy bastard upon me? Away ye dunghill carrion, away: Hear you good huswife, get you among your companiens, and lay your litter where you list: for if you trouble me any more, by heaven I swears, thou shalt dear abids it: and so bending his brows like the angry god of war, he went his ways, leaving the childe-bréeding wench to the hazard of her fortune, either good or bad.  
The poor maiden seeing herself for her kindness thus cast off, shed many tears of sorrow for her sin, inveighing, with many bitter groans, against the unconstancy of love alluring men. But in the end, when she saw no other remedy, she made her case known unto her mistress: who after she had given her many bitter checks and tants, threatening to turn her out of doors, she opened the matter to her husband.  
So soon as he heard thereof, he made no more to do, but presently posted to London after Sir George, and found him at my Lord Admirals. What, master Winchcomb (quoth he) you are heartily welcome to London, and I thank you for my good cheer. I pray you how doth your good wife, and all our friends in Berkshire? All well and merry, I thanks you good Sir George, quoth he: I left them in health, and I hope they do so continue. And trust me sir (quoth he) having earnest occasion to come up to talk with a bad debtor, in my journey it was my chance to light in company of a gallant widow: a Gentlewoman she is, of wondrous good wealth, whom grisly death hath bereft of a kind husband, making her a widow ere she had been half a year a wife: her land, Sir George, is as well worth a hundred pound a year as one penny, being as fair and comely a creature, as any of her degree in our whole country: Now sir, this is the worst, by the reason that she doubts herself to be with child, she hath vowed not to marry these twelve months: but because I wish you well, and the Gentlewoman no hurt, I came of purpose from my business to tell you thereof: Now Sir George, if you think her a fit wife for you, ride to her, woo her, win her, and wed her. I thank you good Master Winchcomb (quoth he) for your favour ever toward me, and gladly would I see this yongue widow if I wist where. She dwelleth not half a mile from my house (quoth master Winchcomb) and I can send for her at any time if you please.  
Sir George hearing this, thought it was not best to come there, fearing joan would father a child upon him, and therefore answered, he had no leisure to come from my Lord: But, quoth he, would I might see her in London, on the condition it cost me twenty nobles. Tush sir George, quoth Master Winchcomb, delays in love are dangerous, and he that will woo a widow, must take time by the forelock, and suffer none other to step before him, lest he leap without the widow's love. Notwithstanding, seeing now I have told you of it, I will take my Gelding and get me home: if I hear of her coming to London, I will send you word, or perhaps come myself: till when, adieu good Sir George. Thus parted master Winchcomb from the Knight: and being come home, in short time he get a fair Taffeta gown, and a French hood for his maid, saying ● Come ye drab, I must be fain to cover a foul fault with a fair garment, yet all will not hide your great belly: but if I find means to make you a Lady, what will you say then? O Master (quoth she) I shall be bound while I live to pray for you. Come then minion (quoth her mistress) and put you on this gown and french hood: for seeing you have lain with a Knight, you must needs be a Gentlewoman. The maid did so: and being thus attired, she was set on a fair Gelding, and a couple of men sent with her up to London: and being well instructed by her master and dame what she should do, she took her journey to the City in the Term time, and lodged at the Bell in the Strand: and mistress Lovelesse must be her name, for so her Master had warned her to call herself: Neither did the men that waited on her, know the contrary; for master Winchcomb had borrowed them of their Master, to wait upon a friend of his to London, because he could not spare any of his own servants at that time: notwithstanding, they were appointed, for the Gentlewoman's credit, to say they were her own men. This being done, master Winchcomb sent Sir George a letter, that the Gentlewoman which he told him of, was now in London, lying at the Bell in the Strand, having great business at the Term.  
With which news Sir George's heart was on fire, till such time as he might speak with her: three or four times went he thither and still she would not be spoken withal, the which close keeping of herself, made him the more earnest in his fuite.  
At length he watched her so narrowly, that finding her going forth in an evening, he followed her, she having one man before, and another behind: carrying a very stately gate in the streere, it drove him into the greater liking of her, being the more urged to utter his mind. And suddenly stepping before her, he thus saluted her, Gentlewoman God save you, I have often been at your lodging, and could never find you at leisure. Why sir, quoth she (counterfeiting her natural speech) have you any business with me? Yes fair Widow, quoth he, as you are a client to the law, so am I a suitor for your love: and may I find you so favourable to let me plead my own case at the bar of your beauty, I doubt not but to unfold so true a tale, as I trust will cause you to give sentence on my side. You are a merry Gentleman, quoth she: But for my own part, I know you not; nevertheless, in a case of love, I will been no let to your suit, though perhaps, I help you little therein. And therefore Sir, if it please you to give attendance at my lodging, upon my return from the Temple, you shall know more of my mind, and so they parted. Sir George receiving hereby some hope of good hap, stayed for his dear at her lodging door: whom at her coming she friendly greeted, saying, Surely Sir, your diligence is more than the profit you shall get thereby: but I pray you how shall I call your name? George Rigley (quoth he) I am called, and for some small deserts I was knighted in France. Why then Sir George (quoth she) I have done you too much wrong to make you thus dance attendance on my worthless person. But let me be so bold to request you to tell me, how you came to know me: for my own part I cannot remember that ever I saw you before. Mistress Lovelesse (said Sir George) I am well acquainted with a good neighbour of yours, called Master Winchcomb, who is my very good friend, and to say the truth, you were commended unto me by him. Truly sir George said she, you are so much the better welcome: Nevertheless, I have made a vow not to love any man for this twelve months space. And therefore Sir, till than I would wish you to trouble yourself no further in this matter till that time be expired: and then if I find you be not entangled to any other, and that by trial I find out the truth of your love, for Master Winchcomb sake your welcome shall be as good as any other Gentlemen whatsoever.  
Sir George having received this answer was wondrous we, cursing the day that ever he meddled with joan, whose time of deliverance would come long before a twelve Month were expired, to his utter shame, and overthrow of his good fortune: for by that means should he have Master Winchcomb his enemy, and therewithal the loss of this fair Gentlewoman. Wherefore to prevent this mischief, he sent a Letter in all haste to Master Winchcomb, requesting him most earnestly to come up to London, by whose persuasion he hoped strait to finish the marriage. Master Winchcomb fulfilled his request, and then presently was the marriage solemnised at the Tower of London, in presence of many Gentlemen of Sir George's friends. But when he found it was joan whom he had gotten with child, he fretted and fumed, stamped, and stared like a devil. Why (quoth M. Winchcomb) what needs all this? Came you to my table to make my maid your strumpet? had you no man's house to dishonour but mine? Sir, I would you should well know, that I account the poorest wench in my house to good to be your whore, were you ten knights: and seeing you took pleasure to make her your wanton, take it no scorn to make her your wife: and use her well too, or you shall hear of it. And hold thee joan (quoth he) there is a hundred pounds for thee: And let him not say thou camest to him a beggar. Sir George seeing this, and withal casting in his mind what friend Master Winchcomb might be to him, taking his wife by the hand gave her a loving kiss, and Master Winchcomb great thanks. Whereupon he willed him for two years' space to take his diet and his Ladies at his house: which the Knight accepting, road strait with his wife to Newberie. Then did the Mistress make curtsy to the Maid, saying: You are welcome Madam, giving her the upper hand in all places. And thus they lived afterward in great joy: and our King hearing how jack had matched sir George, laughing heartily thereat, gave him a living for ever, the better to maintain my Lady his Wife.   
FINIS.   


OS· HOMINI· SUBLIME· DEDIT ✚   printer's or publisher's device 
HL