A 
 Nest of Ninnies 
 Simply of themselves without Compound Stultorum plena sunt omnia 
 By Robert Armin 
 LONDON: 
 Printed by T.E. for Ion dean. 1608   

To the youthful and rightly complete in all good gifts and graces, the generous Gentlemen of Oxenford, Cambridge, and the inns of Court. Ro. Armin greeting.  


YOu first born brothers of the highest skies,  
Twins of best jove by blessed Memoria,  
From whom our glories and our livings rise,  
Brothers and sons to him that brings the day,  
( Phoebus) whom none can see but by your eyes,  
You onely and you ever I shall pray  
( And praising ever) that your sunny shine,  
May beautify our GLOBE in every line.    
But what higher strain am I in when yourselves haue set my tongue lower?  
Most liberal and well affencted, I am brazd by your favours and made bold in your ostended courtesies, I haue seen you both ways as the Hare that squints on either side, mary to look foreright I cannot because iudgement out-lookes me. But as the Philosopher squened at his cursed wife in some fear, because of quiet, so I fearful presume not to look into the millstone least I gravel my eye sight. I haue seen the stars at midnight in your societies, and might haue Commenst like an ass as I was, but I lacked liberty in that, yet I was admitted in Oxford to be of Christs Church, while they of Al-soules gave aim, such as knew me remember my meaning. I promised them to prove mad, and I think I am so, else I would not meddle with Folly so deeply, but similis similem, &c. If I do offend as I make no question, my Pardon is signed I doubt not, mary there is an Execution yet behind, and I long till I pass my plundge, that is censure. They say he goes in colours, as one strangely affencted, and I go in motley making my own cloakebag ready, If he prove porter and bear with me I shall rest beholding, if not I am his martyr and suffer extremely. I haue Gentlemen in this book gone through Ireland, if I do stick in the bogs help me out, not with your Skene head me, that's the way to spoil all, but with your goad prick me on to the true tract. And you of our inns of Court, nimble brained brands that burn without smoking, I challenge of you neighbourly nearness, and therefore dare say sumus in tuto. If you should fly out like rank riders, or rebel like the Irish, twere much because my presumption challenges better being in you. But since all is one, and one all, thatis cared for, singleness hath such regard, I make a question, which if you easily answer, I am satiffied, otherwise buried quick, how ever my love loses not his labour, an university fire in the Winter, and a Temple pot may warm good haviour, in which you may drink to me, and i'le pledge you, I may live to make you amends if not no more but this, such a one died in your debt, and thatis a Countertenor many a one sings. Vale, as for vide and vici let Caesar at his next arrive so salute you.  
Yours ever affencted, Ro. Armin.   

A nest of Ninnies.  
THe world wanton sick, as one s●n setting on sin( in morning pleasures, noon banquets, after riots, nights moriscoes, midnights modicoms, and abundance of trash tricked up to all turbulent reuellings) is now leaning on her elbow, devising what doctor may deliver her, what physic may free her, and what antidotes may antissipate so dangerous a Dolemma, shee now begins to grow bucksome as a lightning before death, and gsd shée will, riches her chamberlain could not keep her in, beauty her bed-fellow was bold to persuade her, and sléepy security mother of all mischief, tut her prayers was but mere prattle: out she would, tucks up her trinkets like a Dutch Tannikin sliding to market on the ice and away she flings, and whither think you, not to the Law, that was too loud, not to the Church that was too proud, not to the Court, that was too stately, nor to the city, shée was there lately, nor to the camp, that was too keen, no nor to the Country where seldom seen: shée deigns her a friendly eye: but of all into a Philosophers cell, who because he was always poking at Fortune with his forefinger, the wise wittily named him Sotto, as one besotted, a grumbling sir, one that was wise enough, and fond enough, and sold all for a glass prospective, because he would wisely see into all men but himself, a fault general in most, but such was his, who thus busied was took napping by the weal public, who smiles vpon him with a wapper eye, a jealous countenance, and bids him all hail mistress( says Sotto) I will not say welcome, because you come ill to him that would be alone, but since you are come, look for such entertainment as my folly fits you with, that is, sharp sauce with bitter diet, no sweetness at al, for that were to mingle your pills with sugar, no, I am all one, Winter in the head, and frost in the foot, no Summer in me but in my smiles, and that as soon gone as smiles, the bauble I play with, is mens estates, which I so tumble from hand to hand, that weary with it I see( gluttingly and grieuedly, yet mingled with smiles too) in my glass prospective, what shall become of it: the world curling her locks with her fingers, and anon scratching her brain with her itching pin, as one little regarding answers what then: mary says Hodge i'le show thee. see world in whose bosom ever hath abundance been powred, what thy imps of impiety be, for as they( I) all for the most part, as these which I will present to thee in my glass prospective, mark them well, and see what thou bréedest in thy wantonness, six Children like thee, not the Father that begot them, where were they nursed, in folly? fed with the flottin milk of nicety and wattonnesse, curdled in thy womb of water and blood, unseasoned, because thy mother bearing temper was ever untrue, far from the relish of right breed, and it is hard that the taste of one Apple should distaste the whole lump of this defused Chaios, but mark me and my glass, see into some( and in them thyself) whom I haue discride, or describde these six parts of folly in thee, thou shalt see them as clear as day, how misty thy clouds be, and what rancknesse rains from them.  
The world queasy stomackt, as one fed with the earths nectar and delicates with the remembrance of her own appetite squinies at this and looks as one scorning, yet beholding what will follow, at length espies a tall black man, ●earing like himself, a fool in motley, muckinder hung, ever and anon wipes his nose, at whose girdle hangde a small black jack of a quart, his usual draft, his finger on his tongue as if he blamde Nature that cut not the strings of it in more large manner, but hindered by defect he still did guess at wisdom, though seldom attaining it. Well, he was gouty, big, post legged, and of years something many, as in the right sequel followeth.  


This fool was tall, his face small,  
His beard was big and black,  
His neck was short, inclined to sport,  
Was this our dapper jack.  
Of nature cursed, yet not the worst,  
Was nasty, given to swear,  
toilsome ever, his endeavour  
Was delight in bear.  
Goutie great, of conceit  
Apt, and full of favour,  
cursed, yet kind, and inclined  
To spare the wise mans labour.  
known to many, loud of any,  
Cause his trust was truth,  
seen in toys, apt to joys,  
To please with tricks of youth,  
Writh'd i'th knees, yet who sees  
Faults that hidden be?  
calf great, in whose conceit  
Lay much game and glee.  
big i'th small, ankle all,  
Footed broad and long,  
In motley coats, goes jack oats,  
Of whom I sing this song.    
The world ready to disgorge at so homely a present, asked if it were possible such breathde hers to command, oh saith our philosophical Hodge, hear his jests, and what an unknown habit lives in him, then return iudgement, mark our application.  
jack oats sitting at cards all alone, was dealing to himself at vide ruff( for that was the game he joyed in) and as he spied a knave: Ah knave art there, quoth he: When he spied a King, King by your leave, quoth he: if he spied a queen queen Richard art come, quoth he: and would kneel down and bid God bless her majesty( meaning indeed the then queen, whom he heard Sir William Hollis his master so much to pray for: But héere is the Iest, jack as I say, being at cards all alone, spying a knave, and saying, Ah knave art there: A simplo servingman being in the Hall waighting his maisters coming, walking by, & hearing him say so, thought he had called him knave, took the matter in dudgin, and miscalled the fool: another servingman more foolish then both, took jacks part, so that in short time they two fell together by the ears: who being partend, jack oats gives them each one a hand, and so takes them into the buttery to drink: the Knight comes in, seeing the Hall not yet quiet, asked the mateer: jack comes, Ile tell thee Willy, quoth he: As I was a playing at cards, one seeing I won all I played for, would needs haue the knave frommée, which as very a knave as he seeing, would needs bear him knave for company: so to bid them both welcome to thy house, I haue been to entreat the knave thy Butler to make them drink. I says Sir William, and you like a knave made them fall out. I answered jack, and your drink Sir knave made them friends. Sir William laughing, departed.  
news came to Sir William that such a Nobleman was coming to his house, great provision was made for his welcome: and amongst all jack oats put on his new Motley coat, clean Muckender, and his new shoes. Much preparation, was made, which were too long to tell, for Ile assure ye it was one of the greatest earls in England, unfit to name here: but the Knight and his lady met him at the gate to entertain him: Sir William with a low congy saluted him, the good Lady, as is the Courtly custom, was kist of this Noble man: jack oats seeing him kiss his lady, on the sudden gives the earl a sound box on the ear, knave( quoth he) kiss Sir Willies wife? the good Knight amazed at this, caused him to be whipped: but the kind Noble man knowing simplicity the ground of his error, would not suffer it, but putting it up, left him and entred the house. jack seeing they were sad, and he had done amiss, had this wit in simplicity to shadow it: he comes after and asked the earl where his hand was? Here( quoth he) with that he shakes him by it, and says, I mistook it before, knowing not your ear from your hand being so like one another: jack thought he had mended the matter, but now he was whipped indeed, and had his payment altogether. Thus fools thinking to be wise, become flat foolish, but all is one, jack never repented him.  
AT a Christmas time, when great logs furnish the Hall fire: when brawn is in season, & indeed all Reueling is regarded: this gallant knight kept open house for all comers, where beef, beer, and bread was no niggard. Amongst all the pleasures provided, a noise of Minstrells, and a Lincolnshire Bagpipe was prepared: the Minstrels for the great Chamber, the Bagpipe for the Hall: the Minstrels to serve up the Knights meate, and the Bagpipe for the common dancing. jack could not endure to be in the common Hall, for indeed the fool was a little proudly minded, and therefore was altogether in the great Chamber at my Ladies or Sir Williams elbow. One time being very melancholy, the Knight to rouse him up, said, hence fool, Ile haue another fool, thou shalt dwell no longer with me: jack to this answered little, though indeed ye could not anger him worse: A Gentleman at the board answers, if it please you sir Ile bring ye another fool soon: I pray ye do( quoth the knight) and he shall be welcome. jack fell a crying, and departed mad and angry down into the great Hall: and being strong armed( as before I described him, caught the Bagpipes from the piper, knocked them about his pate, that he laid the fellow for dead on the ground, and all broken carries the pipes up into the great Chamber, and lays them on the fire. The Knight knowing by jack, that something was amiss, sends down to see: news of this iest came, the knight angry( but to no purpose, for he loved the fool above all, and that the household knew, else jack had paid for it, for the common peoples dancing was spoiled) sent down jack, and bad him out of his sight: jack cries hang sir Willy, hang sir Willy & departs.  
Sir William not knowing how to amend the matter, caused the Piper to be carried to bed, who was very ill: and said I would now give a gold noble for a fool indeed to anger him thoroughly: one of the Minstrels whispers a Gentleman in the ear, and said, if it pleased him he would, whereat the Gentleman laughed: the Knight demanded the reason of his laughing, I pray you tell me( quoth he) for laughing could never come in a better time, the fool hath madded me. If it please you( says the Gentleman) here is a good fellow will go and attire him in one of his coats, and can in all points behave himself naturally like such a one: it is good says the Knight) and I prithee good fellow about it, and one go call jack oats hither, that we may hold him with talk in the mean time.  
The simplo minstrel thinking to work wonders, as one ouerioyed at the good opportunity, threw his Fiddle one way, his stick another and his case the third way, and was in such a case of ioy, that it was no boot to bid him make hast, but proud of the knights favor away he flings, as if he went to tak possession of some great Lordship, but what ere he got by it, I am sure his Fiddle with the fall fell in pieces, which grieved his master so that in love and pity he laughed till the water ran down his cheeks: beside this good knight was like to keep a bad Christmas, for the Bagpipes and the music went to wrack, the one burnt, and the other broken.  
In comes jack oats and( being merry)  told the knight and the rest, that a Country-wench in the Hall had eaten garlic and there was seauentéene men poisoned with kissing her: for it was his use to iest thus: by and by comes in a Messenger( one of the Knights men) to tell him that such a Gentleman had sent his fool to dwell with him. he is welcome says the Knight, for I am weary of this fool, go bid him come in, jack bid him welcome: they all laughed to see jacks colour come and go, like a wise man ready to make a good end: What say you to this says the Knight? not one word says jack. They tinged with a knife at the bottom of a glass, as toulling the bell for the fool, who was spéechlesse and would die( then which, nothing could more anger him) but now the thought of the new come fool so much moved him, that he was as dead as a door nail: standing on tip-toe looking toward the door to behold his arrival, that he would put his nose out of joint.  
By and by enters my artificial fool in his old clothes, making wry mouths, dancing, & looking a squint: who when jack beholded, suddenly he flew at him, and so violently beate him, that all the Table rose, but could scarce get him off: well, off he was at length, the Knight caused the broken ones to be by themselves. My poor minstrel with a fall had his head broken to the skull against the ground, his face scratched, that which was worst of all his left eye put out, and withall so sore bruised, that he could neither stand nor go: the knight caused him to be laid with the piper, who was also hurt in the like conflict, who lacked no good looking to, because they miscarried in the Knights service: but ever after jack oats could not endure to hear any talk of another fool to be there, and the Knight durst not make such a motion. The piper and the Minstrel being in bed together, one cried O his back and face: the other, O his face and eye: the one cried O his pipe: the other, O his fiddle, Good music or broken consorts they agree well together: but when they were well, they were contented for their pains: they had both money and the knights favour. Here you haue heard the difference twixt a Flat fool natural, and a flat fool artificial, one that did his kind, and the other who foolishly followed his own mind: on which two is written this rhyme.  


natural fools, are prove to self conceit:  
fools artificial, with their wits lay wait  
To make themselves fools, liking the disguise,  
To feed their own mindes, and the gazers eyes.  
he that attempts danger, and is free,  
Hurting himself; being well cannot see:  
Must with the fiddler here wear the fools coats,  
And bide his pennance signed him by jack oats.  
All such say I, that use flat foolery,  
bear this, bear more; this flat fools company.    
jack oats could never abide the cook, by reason that he would scald him out of the kitchen. Upon a time he had a great charge from his Lady to make her a Quince Pie of purpose for Sir Williams own eating, which the cook endeavoured to do, and sent to lincoln of purpose to the Apothecaries for choice Quinces: jack being at this charge given, thought to be even with the cook, and waited the time when this Pie was made: it happened so the cook could get no Quinces, my Lady( for it was the Knights desire to haue one) sent about to Boston, and all the chief towns, but all in vain, the season served not: but rather then sir William should be unfurnished, sent to lincoln again to buy up many Quinces ready preserved at Pothecaries, which shée had, though with great cost. The Knight asking his Lady for his pie, she  told him with much ado she had prevailed, but with no little pains in seeking Quinces, for she was fain to buy them ready preserved, & to make a virtue of necessity that way. Sir William seeing it was so, said it should be as well eaten, and sent for his Friends, Gentlemen, and others of no small account. There was other great cheer provided to furnish up this sumptuous Feast, and as he invited them, he told them it was a Quince Pie, which he would haue eaten: the day drew on, and the Gentiles were come, and all was in a readiness, and still jack forgot not the Pie, but stood faintly sick, and refused his meate: the Knight sorry that his best dish failed him, made no small account of his well fare, asked him: jack, says he, Where lies thy pain? In my mouth says he( meaning indeed his mouth hung for the Quince Pie) a Barber was sent for from a Market town hard by, who searched his mouth and could find no cause of pain: but sir William thinking the fool wanted wit to tell his grief( though not wit to play the thief) bad the Barber depart, as king jack what he would eat? He said nothing: What he would drink: he said nothing: which made sir William doubt much of his health, refusing his liquour, when it was usually his practise, and the Knight joyed in it too: asked him if he would lye down? still answering no; but would stand by the kitchen fire. The Knight that knew he never came there but he did some exploit, forgetting that, lead him by the hand( so much he made of him) and bad the cook see he wanted nothing. jack standing still, groand & said: If he dyed, he would forgive all the world but the cook. Hang fool( says the cook) I care not for thee, die to morrow if thou wilt, and so followed his business. They knocked to the Dresser, and the dinner went up: jack had a shéepes eye in the oven: anon the second course came, the Pie was drawn, set by & among other backed meats was to be sent up, but wanting sugar, stepped aside to the spicerie to fetch it, and jack in the mean time catcheth the Pie and claps it under his coat, and so runs through the Hall into the Yard, where was a broad moat, and as he ran, the hot Pie burned his belly: I says jack are ye so hot Sir Willies Pie. Ile quence. ye anon sir Willies Pie says he, and strait very subtly leaps into the moat up to the arm pits, and there stood eating the Pie. The cook comes in, misses the Pie, withal misses jack, cries out, the Pie: sir Williams Pie was gone, the Author of that feast was gone, and they all were undone: a hurly burly went through the house, and one comes and whispers the Lady with the news: shée tells sir William how jack oats had stolen the Pie. jack was searched for, and anon found in the moat. It was  told the Knight where the fool was eating it: Gentlemen( quoth he) we are dissurnished of our feast, for jack my fool is in my moat up to the armpits eating of the Pie. They laughed and ran tooth windows to see the iest: there they might see jack eat, the cook call, the people hallow, but to no purpose: jack fed & feeding greedily( more to anger the cook, then disappoint sir William) ever as he burnt his mouth with hast dipped the Pie in the water to cool it: O says the cook it is Sir Williams own Pie sirra: O says jack hang thee and Sir Willy too I care not, it is mine now: save Sir William some says one, save my Lady some says another: by james not a bit says jack, and eat up all, to the wonder of the beholders, who never knew him eat so much before, but drink ten times more: at length out comes jack dropping dry, and goes to get fire to dry him: the Knight and the rest all laughed a good at the iest, not knowing how to amend it. Sir William sends for the cook, who came up with a sorrowful hart, and lamentably complaining, said it was the Knights fault for placing him in the kitchen, where he never was but he did like villainy. The Knight not satisfied with the Cookes answer, presently discharges him of his service, and sent him to live else where: go says he, truss up your trinkets and be gone, the cook seeing no remedy departed.  
jack being dry up he comes, and knowing he had offended, tells a iest( for it was his manner so to do) how a young man broke his codpéece point, and let all be seen that God sent him, or such fooleries, but that was not enough, and to chide him was to make of things worse then twas, and to no purpose neither. Sir William demanded why he eat the pie: because I had a stomach says jack: would nought else serve says the Knight but my pie? No Willy says he thou would not be angry then, and the cook had not been turned away: but all is well thou art rich enough to buy more. The Knight perceiving the fools envy, sent for the cook, and did let him enjoy his place again. So all parties well pleased but the young big-bellied woman, who perchance longed for this long looked for pie, but if she did though long looked for comes at last, yet they shoot short that aim to hit this mark, for jack oats had eaten the pie and served himself. This was a flat fool, yet now & then a blind man may hit a Crow, and you know a flooles bolt is soon shot, out it goes happen how it will, had jack kept his own counsel the cook had been still out of service, and had been revenged, but now being in his place again may live to cry quittance for the Quince pie.  
These quoth the world, are pretty toys: I quoth the philosopher, but mark the applyance. By jack oats is Morrally meant, many described like him, though not fools natural yet most artificial, they card hence what their Parents spin, and do such Apish tricks, that rapine, ruin and a thousand inconveniences follow. By the knight is meant maintainers of Foolery: by the Hall, the inn where the cards of vanity causeth many to be bewitched as appears in the serving men, who busy in others brawls are as easily made friends as they were set together by the ears. By the second is meant reach at Stars, aiming at honour, lighting sometime on the ear of memory, but ill taken because badly ment, is rewarded with a deserved whipping. By the third is called to question most that musically fret their time out in idle baubling, and will become artificial fools to outhraue fools indeed, but stick often in their own quick-sands, and are got out with repentance. But the fourth and last shows the devouring of deuotions diet, how ever come by yet they will stand up to the armpits in danger rather then to lack their wils, to slack or rebate the edge of their appetites: with this the world a little humde and haide, said shée was not pleased that such lived and did promise some amendment, but desired to see further.  
NOw our philosophical Poker pokte on, and pointed to a strange show, the flat fool not so tall, but this fat fool as low, whose description runs in méeter thus:  


This Fat fool was a Scot born, brought up  
In sterling, twenty miles from Edinborough:  
Who being but young, was for the King caught up▪  
Ser'ud this Kings Father all his life time through.  
A yard high and a nail no more his stature,  
Smooth faced, fair spoken, yet unkind by nature.  
Two yards in compass and a nail I read  
Was he at forty yeeres, since when I heard not  
Nor of his life or death, and further heed  
Since I never red, I look not, nor regard not,  
But what at that time jemy Camber was,  
As I haue heard Ile writ, and so let pass.  
His head was small, his hair long on the same,  
One ear was bigger then the other far:  
His fore-head full, his eyes shinde like a flamme,  
His nose flat, and his beard small, yet grew square,  
His lips but little, and his wit was less,  
But wide of mouth, few teeth I must confess.  
His middle thick, as I haue said before,  
Indifferent thighs and knees, but very short:  
His legs be square, a foot long and no more,  
Whose very presence made the King much sport.  
And a pearl spoon he still wore in his cap,  
To eat his meate he loved, and got by hap  
A pretty little foot, but a big hand,  
On which he ever wore rings rich and good:  
Backward well made as any in that land,  
Though thick, and he did come of gentle blood,  
But of his wisdom ye shall quickly hear,  
How this Fat fool was made on every where.    
The world smiling at this rhyme describing so vnséemly a portackt, gave leave to the rest, and desired greatly to be satisfied with something done, as one longing to know what so round trust a lump could perform, the poking arts master tells his doing thus.  
WHen the King and Nobles of Scotland had welcomed jemy Camber to the Court, who was their countryman born in sterling, but twenty miles from Edinborough, this Kings birth town, as Greenwich was our late queens. They reasoned with him to understand his wit, which indeed was just none at all, yet merry & pleasing, whereat the King reioyced, and seeing he was so fat, caused his Doctors and Phisitians to minister to him, but physic could not alter nature, and he would never be but a S. Vincents Turnip, thick & round. Wherefore the Doctors persuaded his grace, that the purging of the Sea was good for him: Well nothing was undone that might be done to make jemy Camber a tall little slender man. When yet he looked like a norfolk dumpling, thick and short. Well to Léeth was he sent, which is the harbour town of such ships as arrive at Edinborough: nearer they cannot come, which is some mile from the city. To sea they put in a ship, at whose departure they discharged Ordinance, as one that departed from the land with the Kings favour: the earl Huntly was sent with him to sea, to accompany him, so high he was esteemed with the King. Who hearing the Ordinance go off, would ask what do they now? mary says the earl, they shoot at our enemies: O says he, hit I pray God, again they discharge, what do they now quoth he? mary now the enemy shoots at vs. O miss I pray God( says jemy Camber) so ever after it was a Iest in the Scottish Court, hit or miss quoth jemy Camber: that if a maid had a barn, and did pennance at the cross in the high town of Edinborough: what hath shée done? did she hit or miss? she hath hit says the other, better she had mist says the first: and so long time after this Jest was in memory, yea I haue heard it myself, and some will talk of it at this day. Well to Sea they put on a faire Sun-shine day, where jemy stood fearful of every calm billow, where it was no boot to bid him tell what the ship was made of, for he did it devoutly: but see the chance, a sudden flaw or gust rose, the winds held strong East and by West, and the ship was in great danger, insomuch as the earl, master and all began to fear the weather: by and by a stronger gale blew and split their main mast, and gave their ship a mighty leak, insomuch as the crack made them all scréek out: which jemy hearing was almost dead with fear: some fell to pumping, others on their knees to praying. But the fat fool seeing themselves in this danger, thought there was no way but one with them, and was half dead with fear, in the end the wind turned, and the raging of the Sea began to cease: I warrant thee now( quoth the master) jemy we shall not be drowned: I, will ye warrant us, says the fool? I says the master, Ile give thee my ship for thy chain, if we be drowned: bear witness my Lord says he, a plain bargain, and with-that threw the master his chain, who would haue given it to the earl, but ioy of their escape made him delight in the Iest, and therefore the master enjoyed his bargain. With much ado they attained thether again, where the king fearful before, awaited their landing now, and seeing jemy not a jot less of body then he was( onely lightened of his chain) how now, quoth he, how dost thou man? O says jemy, well now King, but ill had not the master been, who warranted our lives for my chain, the best bargain that ever I made, for no way could I haue been a loser: how says the King? mary Ile tell thee King, quoth he, say we had been drowned, his ship was forfeit to me for my chain, earl Huntly was a witness to the bargain: and now we are not drowned, for my chain did warrant our lives of the master: nay says the earl not our lives, none but yours jemy, our lives were as safe unwarranted without a chain. With this the fool had some feeling of sense and on a sudden cried out mainly for his chain again, which was restored to him by the master, but he lost nothing by that, for he attained to a svit, as the story says, that he had been three years about. Thus the King and Nobles went to edinburgh merrily talking of their fear and welfare.  
jemy this fat fool used every day to go from the Abbey in the low town, up the hill into the city of edinburgh, and one evening above the rest, he met with a broken virgin, one that had had a barn( as there they are known by their attire) wearing a loose kerchief hanging down backward, she I say cried salads, as thus: buy any Cibus Salletea. jemy desirous of salads, calls her to him, lasse says he what shall I give thee for a good salad? faire sir says the wench( for shée knew him for the Kings fool, and she could not please him better then to call him fair sir) you give me an atchison now he having nothing but six French Crownes about him, canst thou change me a crown says he? yea sir says shée: he gives her a French crown, & she gave him a salad for it, & shée went her way.  
jemy thinks it was much to give a crown for that, for which she did demand but an atchison: which in our money is but three farthings he runs after and says, she had his fairest crown, but says he give me that and take your choice of these: thinking by that devise to get the first crown again. Will ye change says the lasse? I says the fool: so she takes all the five and gives him one again, and so laughing at his folly, goes her way, it was in vain to exclayme, for they will hold fast what they get: but my fat fool goes home to eat his salad, and invites the King to a déere dish, and made him laugh heartily at the iest: The King calls for Uiniger to his salad, because his sweet meate should haue sour sauce, and persuaded him it was well bought, otherwise if the fool had repented his bargain, it was his manner to cry for his money again, yet with it all the Court could not quiet him.  
BEtwixt edinburgh Abbey the Kings place & Léeth, there stands an even plain green meadow, in which the King used most of his sports: amongst which he road thether one day to run at the glove, or the King, as his Grace should please. With him rides jemy Camber on a trotting Mule: it was then a marvelous hot day. O( says jemy) how could the weather is( so wise he was that he scarce knew hot from cold No says the King it is hot, look how I sweat. No says jemy the sun blowesvery cold. No says the King, the wind shines very hot. The fool was almost angry to be crossed and said, he would be hanged at night if he did sweat that day: with this merry talk they road on: but one of the Kings footmen hearing this,  told the King at their return he would make his Grace laugh heartily: so the King very gallantly ran that time, and never mist the glove, and so did the Lords: which jemy seeing said it was nothing to do: The King bad him run, he did so: but the glove lay still, and jemy could not do it.  
The Kings footman( that watched to do him a good turn) said, jemy could do it better blindfold: what can he quoth the King, I will never believe it: you shall see else quoth he, whereat jemy marveled much that without sight a man could do that which with all his might and sight he could not do, was desirous to make trial, so was blinded with a scarf, while another took up the glove, and was ready for the iest: jemy runs, now for my Maistris says he, they all shout aloud & cry rarely well done, and one vnblindes him, while another puts the glove on the spear. So simplo he was, that he thought it was strange, & bragged all that day not a little, the king did alight and went to drink wine at the Lord H●mes house, and jemy went with him, while the footman had time to work his will, and mingling a conceit with butter( which I will not name, least some one should practise the like) clapped it under the saddle, and as they road to edinburgh, says the King what say you to the weather now jemy? me thinks it is hotter then it was? nay it is colder says he for I begin to sweat.  
The trotting of this Mule made the mingled confection lather so, that it got into his breeches, & wrought up to the crown of his head, & to the sole of his foot, and so he sweat profoundly: still he wiped and he wiped, sweeting more and more, they laughed a good to see him in that taking: now you must be hanged quoth the King as your bargain was, for you sweat very much: what remedy says he, I am content to be hanged but while I live after, Ile never believe could weather will make on sweat: no more will I says the King, but hot weather will. Not or could, says jemy, I am warm now I am sure, I would I were over head and ears in some river to cool me So simplo he was that he knew not whether it was the sun or the wind made him sweat: at night the King caused him to be washed and perfumed, yet he was scarce sweet twenty dayes after. Thus this fat fool chafed, but not in his own grease.  
jemy, who was as you haue heard, a tall low man, and was swift of foot, on a time challenged the Kings best foot-man, for a wager to run with him from the Abbey up the hil to Cannegate( which stood entering to edinburgh, as Ludgate doth to London, and the Kings place about temple-bar) the King being  told of this challenge, thought it would be good sport to see it performed, still persuaded jemy to dare his Foote-man, who before denied him, and knew fools would talk any thing though far unfit to perform any thing. Still the King would say he was made nimble to run, and asked every Noble-mans iudgement, who likewise soothed the King: it was so that they made him believe he was swift of foot, that I think jemy in the end persuaded himself, that none but fat men could run well, and nimble men being light would fall soonest, considering that light things being of small substance not feeling themselves, would surely fall. But here is the sport, the Foote-man seeing it was the Kings pleasure to see the wager tried, dared him, which made jemy mad, that he would run with him from edinburgh to berwick( which was forty miles) in one day, a thing as unpossible as to pull down a Church in one hour, and to build it again in another: for jemy was lost in the kings company once of purpose, but five mile from the city, at the earl Mortons castle at da Keth, and they thought he would never haue come home again: when the King heard every hour he was coming, and still as he entreated every passenger to let him ride, by the kings watch in the high way, they had warning given to the contrary: for be was seven dayes going five mile: then judge how long he would be a running forty? you will muse how he did for meate all the time: Ile tell you he fasted all day, and went supperless to bed, but being in his first sound sleep, meate was brought and laid by him, and a Choppin of Wine( for so they call it there) which made him at his coming to Court tell the King, heaven was gentler then earthly men would show him no favour, neither to ride nor feed him, when he was every night cast into a sound sleep, then when he waked he was sure of meate from heaven to feed on: when the meate came from the Kings kitchen at edinburgh Abbey.  
But to go forward with our challenge, the king said the first word should stand, and on Iemies head he laid a thousand marks: the Lady Carmichell that laughed to hear all this wagered as much on the Foote-mans head: the day was appointed the next morning, being Thursday, to begin at five a clock in the afternoon in the cool of the evening and every one to his race must make him ready. jemy as he had seen the kings Foot-men do, washed his feet with beer, and soaked them in Butter, so all that night and the next day there was nothing but jemy and his provision to that great journey. The time came, jemy was stripped into his shirt, trust round for the purpose: the footman and he begins to run: the footman makes show of great labour, and the fool made the substance, for he was quickly in a sweat: they pult and they blowde, they ran as swift as a pudding would creep. jemy thought himself no small fool to out-run the Foot-man, and did in his mind assure himself to win: the King laughs to see the toil he made, and the Foot-man made great show and little pains. By and by jemy calls for drink, and the King loathe he should haue any harm with labour, caused him to haue a mixed drink to cast him into a sleep: who when he had drunk, as he ran on his wager, he dropped down in the street, as heavy as if a leaden plummet that makes a jack turn the spit, had fallen on the earth dab: there he slept, and was carried by command to the top of the hill, and laid down again: there he slept half an hour, and when he waked he remembered his journey: seeing people still about him, up he gets, away he iogs, and never looks behind him: and seeing Cannegate so near him, had not the wit to wonder how he came there, but laid hold on the ring of the gate, and stayed to be seen. By and by the foot-man comes sweeting, with water powred on his face and head: O my heart, says he: O my legs says jemy, I will not do so much for all Scotland again. Well, jemy cries victory, victory: and there was the kings Coath at hand, to carry him home, for of himself he could never haue gone, had his life lain on it. But when he came home, the brags he made, the glory he got, how he out-ran the footman( and ran so easily as if he had been a sleep) was wonderful: I, it was sport enough for the King a month after to hear him tell it. Well the King won the wager he thought, and that was honour sufficient for him: not three dayes after he bad the King put away all his footmen, and he would serve his turn to any place The King thanked him for his good will, and said when his need was great he would make bold to use him: so jemy this fat fool ever bragged of this wager.  
THere was a Laundres of the town, whose daughter used often to the Court to bring home shirts and bands, which jemy had long time loved and solicited, but to no end she would not yield him an inch of hir maidenhead: now jemy vowed he would haue if all well, she consented at last and to be short soon at night at nine a clock, being in the winter, when shée knew her mother to be gone to watch with a sick body, he should come and all that night lie with her: jemy though witless, wanted no knavish meaning in this, thought long till it was night. But in the afternoon, this maid goes up to the castle & gathers a great basket of Nettles, and coming home straws them under the bed.  
Night comes, nine a clock strikes, jemy on his horse comes riding forward, sets him up and knocks at the door, she lets him in and bids him welcome bonny man: to bed he goes, and jemy ever used to lie naked, as is the use of a number amongst which number she knew jemy was one, who no sooner was in bed, but shée herself knocked at the door, and herself asked who was there, which jemy hearing was afraid of her mother: alas sir( says shée) creep under the bed, my mother comes. jemy bustled not a little, under he créepes stark naked, where he was stung with nettles: judge you that haue feeling of such matters, there he lay turning this way and that way, here he stung his leg, here his shoulder, there his buttocks: but the maid having locked the door to him, went to bed, and there lay he in durance( as they say) till morning: when the day broken up gets the maid, to Court she goes, and tells the Kings chamberlain of the matter, and he  told the King, who laughed thereat right heartily.  
The chamberlain was sent to see him there, who when he came found him fast a sleep under the bed stark naked, bathing in nettles, whose skin when he wakened him, was all blistred grievously. The Kings chamberlain bid him arise and come to the King. I will not quoth he, I will go make my grave. see how things chanced, he spake truer then he was awar for the chamberlain going home without him, told the King his answer. jemy rose, made him ready, takes his horse and rides to the Church-yard in the high town, where he found the Sexton( as the custom is there) making nine graues, three for men, three for women, and three for children, and who so dyes next, first comes first served: lend me thy spade says jemy, and with that digs a hole, which hole he bids him make for his grave, and doth give him a French crown, the man willing to please him( more for his gold then his pleasure) did so: and the fool gets vpon his horse, & rides to a gentleman of the town, and on the sudden within two houres after dyed: of whom the Sexton telling he was butted there indeed. Thus you see fools haue a guess at wit sometime, and the wisest could haue done no more, nor so much. But thus this fat fool fills a lean grave with his carcase, vpon which grave the King caused a ston of Marble to be put, on which the Poets writ these lines in remembrance of him:  


He that gard all men till ieare,  
jemy a Camber he ligges here:  
Pray for his sale, for he is geane,  
And here a ligges beneath this steane.    
Is this possible says the world, that I should be so served, nay thou art worse served hereafter, says he, for thou knowest not the following scene, but attend it.  
By the fool is meant all fatness, by the King nature that nursed him, by the Nobles such as soothe him, and by the Ship, thee, in which many dangers are floating through the sense of sin, and so if life were awarranted fools, fat ones, rich ones, would give the chain of their souls, that is linked to salvation, onely to inherit this earth in thy company, when earth though it be heaven to hell, by reason of the pains, yet the comparison auerts, it is hell to heaven, in respect of pleasures. By the second is meant the surfeits ot soul and body that fools buy with their gold, not sparing any price to please appetite, though the edge of it slice from the bosom of good old Abraham, very heaven itself. By the third, how the fat fools of this age, will groute and sweat under this masste burden, and purge to the crown from the foot, though their brain perish through the prevailing practise of busy endeavour. The Mule, morrally signifies the divell, vpon whose trot their fatness takes ease, and rides a gallop to destruction By the fourth tail is prefigured the presumption of greatness, who are willing to out-run speed itself, through greedy desire. In this is shown how flattery féedes them, placing before them as in a sleep, work and wonder, when, to say forth, all is not worth the wonder, their desire is more then ability to perform, and their practise above all, yet the nimble ouershoot them in act, leaving them a quickness in will. In the fift, answer is made to the fourth when often such forward deeds, meet with backward lurches, and they are stung with their own follies, nettling very lust with shane and disgrace: it signifies Adultery in fat ones, who( above their own) whoring after strange Gods make their Religion ride hackney to hell, and when shane takes them from the horse, they make their own graues & are buried in their own shane, with this Motto above written.  


Fat fools gather to their woe,  
Sorrow, shane, and care,  
Here they lie that gallopt so,  
In Deaths engraved snare.    
THis moral motion gave the world such a buffet that she skringde her face as though shée were pinched home, yet seeing no remedy but that the flat and fat fools should draw in her Coach together, shée sits in the boot and rides on. The critic, reacheth his glass to her view and presents the third. O this was an humorous Sir indeed, lean Leonard, they call him a fool of strange and propostrous breeding, begot of envy, and out of doubt his base son: his description hath a strain of more wonder, long like a lath, and of proportion little better, but give his report hearing.  


Curled locks on idiots heads,  
Yeallow as the amber,  
plays on thoughts as girls with beads:  
When their mass they stamber.  
thick of hearing yet thin eard,  
Long of neck and visage,  
Hookie nosde and thick of beard,  
Sullen in his usage.  
Clutter fisted long of arm,  
body strait and slenderd,  
boisterous hipt motley warm?  
ever went lean Leonard.  
Gouty legd footed long,  
subtle in his folly,  
showing right but apt to wrong,  
When a'peard most holy.  
understand him as he is,  
For his marks you cannot miss.    
You hear Maddam says our Cinnick how he is marked, if ye meet him in your pottage-dish, yet know him. The world tho thee loved not the description, yet shée coneted his condition, and began to woe his report, which making no bones of the sweet youth gave his doings thus.  
IN the merry forest of Shearewood dwells a kind gentleman, whose name I omit, fearing I too much offend in meddling with his fool: but I trust he will pardon me, for sithence he is so well known thereabouts, I think it not amiss to tell it at London, that people seeing the strange works of God, in his differing creatures, we that haue perfect resemblance of God, both in sense and similitude, may the better praise his name, that we differ from them whose humours we red, see and hear, are not so strange as true. I say again this Gentleman had a fool, Leonard they call him, lean of body, looking like envy, whose conditions agree with his countenance: one time above all other he locked himself into a Parlour, where all alone he played at slide-groat, as his manner was, pieces or counters he had none, yet casting his hand empty from him, fly says he, short with a vengeance: then play says he( to his fellow) when indeed there is none but himself: but thus with supposes he plays alone, swaggers with his game fellow, out swears him with a thousand oaths, challenges him the field to answer him if he be a man, appoynts the place and all, that if any not knowing his conditions, should stand without & hear him, would think two swaggerers were fighting in the room.  
To his play again he fals, seven up for twelve pence, for that is his game still: well, they fall out, they go together by the ears, & such a hurly burly is in the room that passes: at the last the stools they fly about, the Pots they walk, the glasses they go together▪ nay the Prayer books they fly into the fire, that such a noice there was that the whole house wondered at his folly▪ persuasions were to no purpose doors he would open none, till they violently broke them open, though they were of gold, and so they did, and entred the Parlour, found all this level coil and his pate broken, his face scratched, and leg out of joint, as a number say to this hour, that he is a play fellow for the divell, and in game they cannot agree: but that is otherwise, for in the great hall at the serving mans request he will play by himself, if they will not play with him: & who so plays with him, though they play for nothing and with nothing, all is one they must fall out, and if others be not by to part them mischief may be done, for he will lay it on, take it off who will: so that at his first coming he endangered many, and now take heed is a faire thing, for few will come near him. Thus you may fee fools that want wit to govern themselves well, haue a wilful will to go forward in folly.  
THis lean greedy fool having a stomach, and seeing the butler out of the way, his appetite was such, as loathe to tarry, breaks open the Dairy house, eats & spoils new chéesecurds, chéesecakes, overthrows cream bowls, and having filled his belly, and knew he had done evil, gets him gone to Mansfield in Sherwood, as one fearful to be at home: the maids came home that morning from milking, and finding such a masaker of their Dairie, almost mad, thought a years wages could not make amends: but O the fool lean Leonard, they cried, hedid this mischief, they complained to their Master, but to no purpose, Leonard was far enough off, search was made for the fool, but he was gone none knew whether, and it was his property having done mischief, never to come home of himself, but if any one entreated him, he would easily be won.  
All this while the fool was at Mansfield in Sherwood, and stood gaping at a shoemakers stall: who not knowing him asked him what he was? go look says he, I know not myself: they asked him where he was born: at my mothers back says he: in what country quoth they? in the country quoth he where God is a good man: at last one of the three iournymen imagined he was not very wise, & flouted him very merrily, asking him if he would haue a stitch where there was a hole?( meaning his mouth) I quoth the fool, if your nose may be the needle: the shoemaker could haue found in his heart, to haue took measure on his pate with a Last in steed of his foot: but let him go as he was.  
A Country Plow-iogger being by, noting all this, secretly stolen a piece of shoemakers wax off the stall, & coming behind him; clapped him on the head, and asked him how he did: the fool seeing the pitch ball pulled to haue it off, but could not but with much pain, in an envious spleen, smarting ripe, runs after him, fals at fistie cuffs with him, but the fellow belaboured the fool cunningly, and got the fools head under his arm, and bobd his nose: the fool remembering, how his head was, strikes it up, and hits the fellowes mouth with the pitched place, so that the hair of his head, and the hair of the clowns beard, were glude together: the fellow cried, the fool exclaimed, and could not suddenly part, in the end the people( after much laughing at the Iest) let them part faire: the one went to pick his beard, the other his head: the Constable came asked the cause of their falling out, & knowing one to be Leonard the lean fool, whom he had a Warrant from the Gentleman to search for, demands of the Fellow how it happened: the Fellow he could answer nothing but vm, vm, for his mouth was sealed up with wax: dost thou scorn to speak, says he, I am the kings Officer knave: vm, vm, quoth he again, meaning he would tell him all when his mouth was clean: but the Constable thinking he was mocked, clapped him in the stocks, where the Fellow sate a long hour farming his mouth, and when he had done, and might tell his grief, the Constable was gone to carry home Leonard to his master, who not at home, he was enforced to stay Supper time, where he  told the Gentleman the Iest, who was very merry to hear the story, contented the Officer, and bad him to set the Fellow at liberty, who betimes in the morning was found fast a sleep in the stocks: the Fellow knowing himself faulty, put up his wrongs, quickly departed, and went to work betimes that morning with a flay in his ear.  
THe Gentleman with whom this Leonard dwelled, haning bought a goodly fair hawk, brought her home, being not a little proud of his penny-worth, and at Supper to other Gentlemen, fell a praising of her, who smoothing up his humour, likewise failed not to add a toarch of fire to increase more flamme, for indeed the bide was worthy of commendations, and therefore did merit praises. Leonard standing by with his finger in his mouth, as it was his custom, often hearing them praise the goodness of the hawk, thought indeed they had meant for goodness being far better meate then a Turkey or a Swan, was very desirous to eat of the same: and unknown goes down, and suddenly from the perch snatch the hawk, and having wrung off her neck, begins to besiege that good morsel, but with so good a courage, that the feathers had almost choked him: but there lay my friend Leonard in a lamentable taking. Well, the hawk was mist, and the deed was found, the master was fetched, and al men might see the Hawk, feathers and all not very well digested: there was no boot to bid run far drams to drive down this vndisgested moddicome: the Gentleman of the one side, cried hang the fool, the fool on the other side cried not, but made signs that his hawk was not so good as he did praise her for: and though the Gentleman loved his hawk, yet he loved the fool above: being enforced rather to laugh at his simplicifie, then to vex at his losses suddenly: Being glad to make himself merry, tested on it ever after: vpon whose hawk a Gentleman of his, very wisely writ these lines, and gave unto his master. 
fools feed without heed, unhappy be their feeding,  
Whose heed being in such speed, attempted without heeding  
May they choke that provoke, appetite by pleasure,  
When they eat forbidden meate, & feed so out of measure.   
The Gentleman laughed at this rhyme, yet knew not whether was the more fool, he for writing, the other for eating or he for losing Well, putting the Hare to the Goosegiblets, seeing there was no remedy, made himself pastime, pleased himself, and did rest contented.  
HE that mischiefs many, sometime wrongs himself: as harken to this Iest: Leonard of all things loved his Whéele-barrow, and would work all day and carry dung in it, yet would sleep in it at night, he would set up meate for his belly in it, I what did he without it? Once at a Christmas time, when the fire in the Hall was full, Leonard was sore a could, he got coals out of the Scullery, and put them into his Barrow, and set them on fire, and so sate him down to warm him, quiter forgetting it was made of Wood, and wood would burn, so in the end being warm, goes for a jack of beer, brings it, and sets it on the fire to warm, so that the inside melted, and he dranck the drink notwithstanding: but on the sudden he seeing the Whéele-barrow flamme that he so loved, aloud he cries, O me, O me, O me, and takes it up flaming, and trundles, it into the Hall, among the people to show: the young men & maids tumbled over one another for fear▪ some had their faces burned, others their legs: the maids their smocks, yea one set fire on another, for their Aprons burned, and being many people the flamme increased rather then decreased: Leonard seeing none would help him, runs( for fear least the Gentleman should know it) and thrusts it into the barn to hid it, which some seeing, runs after, and had they not come at that time, the Hay and Straw had been all burnt, for it was already of a light fire, but being quenched out, all was well: such is the envy of fools who seeing none would help him, thought to do them mischief, which he did, but not much.  
The World laughing a good at these jests, though to say soothe shée could hardly afford it, for fear of writhing her sweet favour, yet straining courtesy in this kind, did as our wantons do at a feast, spare for manners in company but alone cram most greedily. So shée forgetting modesty gapte out a laughter, and like women hardly won cried more more. The currish critic said she should, and gave her the third pennerth of the moral, and said, you laugh at lean envy in a long fool, but you haue cause to weep at long envy in a lean age, as you live in. This fool cries not all mine, but distributes like a kind companion, being a suficiall glass to gaze in. There be lean fools as well as fat, such are they whose noses drops necessity, and they smell out for Church lands, many tenaments, unthrifts furfets, looking leanely in all this, but feed fatly in hope. This fatness goes to the heart, not seen in the visage. These seem simplo, but like Leonard hit home at advantage, they can stop mens mouths and seal them up in advantage, and give the stocks to the simplo deseruer, when themselves are not blameless. O beware when you see a long meager look, search him he hath also reaching fingers, and can slide a groat by himself as Leanord did, fall out, curse, swear, and batter heaven itself with humour of folly. Such was the lean necked Crane, who bad the fat fox to dinner making him lick the outside of the glass, while his leanness fed within. You understand me madam, such are your landlords to the poor, your lean lords to the fat tenant, or by a figure one for the other. Thus they batten héere, but the devil will gnaw their bones for it.  
By the third iest we observe a greediness in lean folly, that so good report come in their way these eat up hawk feathers & all to put it by, though they choke in the deed. Héerupon comes it lean envy swallows fat bits, I mean honest manners, and makes them stirril of all good means, as the Lawyer the poor clyants plow pence, the city the country commodities, that under show of leanness they fat themselves to the ribs, good hold for flesh hooks at the general waste. By the fourth and last( I would it were least) it bewrays a curious & common leanness in lewd livers, who to reuenge on others will fire their own wheel barrow. Like the lean tenant who fallen out with his landlord, and seeing his neighbours house on fire desired his neighbours to pull down his first, for fear of more danger, not that he loud his neighbours safety and his own, but that he hated his landlord. Or the contrary covetous of their own commodity fire themselves, and because they will not burn alone endanger their friends, and say tis kind to haue company. These are fools indeed lean ones, these are fat at soul & make thick doings for the divels diet. World I name them not thou knowst them well enough. At this she bit her lip, knowing some that were lean Leonards in this, but key me Ile key thee, give me an inch to day Ile give thee an ell to morrow, and wele to hell together. The World dimpling her chin with mere modesty as it were, throwing off variety of 〈◇〉 〈◇〉, began to say soothe thou saist true, there are such tricks in me, but I know not how to mend, I am willing ●t flesh is weak, prithee be more sparing, carp but confounded not, hope the best amendment may come. prithee go in furnish thy salad, these herbs already are savoury, and I pick out to my appetite, and though I be not altogether pleased, yet am I not quiter past patience, I will endure, for that disease that lesters so must receive cure gladly, though it come with exceeding pain, yet so much the profit by how much the perplexities cries aue to the danger. Mistris says Sotto I am glad to sit so near you, and to be thought a kind neighbour too is more then the world affords. But look who is héere, we haue followde one with our flat and fat fool, disturbed by the leave. Now as in a history we mingle mirth with matter, to make a please plaster for melancholy; so in our glass we present to the lean a clean. One that was more bel●ued among ladies then thought can hatch, or opinion produce. His name is jack Miller, he lives yet & hath been in this city within few dayes, and give me leave to describe him thus:  


You that folly comprehend,  
Listen to my story,  
This description well attend,  
I haue writ it for ye.  
This clean nigit was a fool.  
Shapt in mean of all,  
And of order fit to rule,  
Anger in her loudest braul.  
Fat and thick, neat and clean,  
And delights in pleasure,  
save a nasty ugly strain:  
Of an other measure,  
From his nostrils rumatick.  
grief it was to see,  
Such a simplo neatness spring,  
From imbisillitie.  
Creatures of the better sort,  
For the fool was clean,  
gave him love with good report,  
Had not this ill been.  
But let slip it was no fault,  
Men as slougish be,  
Since the wisest jump as short,  
In all cleanlynesse as he.    
Alas quoth the world, I am sorry trust me, that one so outwardly well, should be so inwardly ill, and haue that apparance in nasty defect, which of itself is neat: but go on with the repeticion since we are mended in the condition. we will wink at small faults, tho we yield it great in nature. Nemo sine crimine and so forth. I quoth Sotto, say ye me so, haue at him then, out it goes, but mark it well.  
IN a Gentlemans house where jack Miller resorted as he was welcome to all: it chanced so there was a Play, the Players dressed them in the Gentlemans kitchen, and so entred through the Entry into the Hall. It was after dinner when pies stood in the oven to cool for Supper: jack had not dined, and seeing the oven stand open, and so many pies there untold( he thought because they seemed numberless) O says lack, for one of them p. p. pies, for so he stammered in speaking( the Players Boy being by, and in his ladies gown) could haue found in his heart to creep in clothes and all: but he persuaded jack to do so, to which he was willing, and very nimbly thrusts in his head into the hot oven, which being but newly opened, on the sudden he was singed both of head and face, and almost not a hair left on his eyebrows, or beard: jack cries, O I burn, and had not the wit to come back, but lay still: the Gentlewoman Boy took him by the heels & pulled him out, but how he looked I pray you judge that can discern favours, jack was in a bad taking with his face poor soul, and looked so ugly and so strangely, that the Lady of the Play being ready to enter before the Gentiles to play her part, no sooner began but remembering jack, laughed out, and could go no further: the Gentleman muzed at what he laughed, but such a Iest, being easily seen, was  told the Gentleman, who sent in for jack Miller, who came like bald Time, to tell them time was past of his hair: but he so strangely looked, as his countenance was better then the Play. But against night the Players dressed them in another place, and at Supper jack Miller sung his song of Dirryes faire, with a barmy face to take out the fire, and looked like the Pater of the Alefat●●it was no boot to bid him stut and stammer, poor fool as clean as he was, he was now but beastly faced, for he looked like a man, that being ashamed to show his face, had hide it in a dry lome wall, and pulling it out again, left all the hair behind him.  
jack, on Newyéeres day in the morning, was to carry a Newyeres gift to a gentleman a mile off; and as he stayed to haue it delivered to him to bear, asked which was the cleanest way thither? A fellow knowing his cleanliness, sends him over a dirty marsh: and so he folded up his hand( then clean) for fouling, that at the gentlemans door he might put it on. The present came, which jack seeing, made legs to the gentlewoman, forgetting his band was in his hose, carried a stif neck to and fro to the gentlewoman, and what ere she spake, or where ere shée stood, jack would look but one way, as though his neck had been starched. And remember, says the gentlewoman, you abuse not my message, nor my gift. No so so forsooth says jack: and away he goes, & thought he would see what it was, & as he went he lift up the basket lid and looked: Ah ha quoth jack I see now it is Almond bu bu butter. Along he goes, and seeing the marsh wet and dirty, thought to leap a little ditch, & so to go a clean high way, but( O poor jack) he, basket and all lay in the midst of the ditch up to the arm pits in mud, which jack seeing got out, and goes to a river by & washes himself first, his band next, where if it had been about his neck as it should, it had ben labour well saved, but he washed his basket of Almond butter so long that the butter was washed away, which he perceiving, in that woeful taking comes back & called for more bu bu butter. The gentlewoman seeing how things went rather laughed then vexed, because she was so simplo to trust a fool with matters of trust, and bad him get him to the fire and dry him, and said. Next time she would stay her seruants leisure( who then were abroad) rather then trust to a rotten staff. Thus clean fools light still on beastly bargains.  
IN the town of Esam in Worstersh. jack Miller being there born, was much made of in every place: It happened that the Lord Shandoyes Players came to town, & played there, which jack not a little loved, especially the clown, whom he would embrace with a joyful spirit, and call him Grumball( for so he called himself in gentlemens houses, where he would imitate plays, doing all himself, King, Gentleman, clown & all, having spoken for one, he would suddenly go in, and again return for the other: and stammering as he did made much mirth To conclude, he was a right innocent, without any villainy at all.  
When these Players I speak of had done in the town, they went to Partiar, and jack swore he would go all the world over with Grumball. It was then a great frost new begun, and the haven was frozen over thinely: but héere is the wonder, the Gentleman that kept the Hart( an inn in the town) whose backside looked to the way that lead to the river side to Partiar, locked up jack in a chamber next the haven, where he might see the players pass by, & they of the town loth to lose his company desired to haue it so: But he I say seeing them go by, créepes through the window, & said I come to thee Grumball. The Players stood all still to see further. He got down very dangerously, & makes no more ado but venters over the haven, which is by the long bridge, as I guess some forty yards over: yet he made nothing of it, but my hart ached when my ears heard the ice crack all the way. When he was come unto me, I was amazed, & took up a brick bat( which lay there by) & threw it, which no sooner fell vpon the ice but it burst. Was not this strange, that a fool of thirty years was born of that ice which would not endure the fall of a brickbat? but every one ranted him for the deed, telling him the danger. He considered his fault; and knowing faults should be punished, he entreated Grumball the clown who he so dearly loved to whip him, but with Rosemary, for that he thought would not smart. But the Players in iest bréecht him till the blood came, which he took laughing, for it was his manner ever to weep in kindness and laugh in extremes. That this is true, mine eyes were witnesses being then by.  
jack Miller welcomed to all places, & hard of none, came to a Gentleman, who being at dinner, requested him for mirth, to make him a play, which he did, and to sing Derries faire, which was in this manner. First it is to be noted, he stutted hugely, and could neither pronounce b. nor p. and thus he began. 
As I went to Derries faire, there was I ware of a jolly beggar,  
Mistris Annis M. Thomas, under a three mending of shoone,  
Mistris Annis M. Thomas hight brave beggars every one.   
And so forward: but the Iest was to hear him pronounce brave beggars, and his quality was, after he began his song, no laughing could put him out of it. One standing by noting his humour that b. and p. plagued him, bad him say this after him, which jack said he would do.  
Buy any flawne, pasties, pudding pies, plum pottage, or pescods O it was death to jack to do it: but like a willing fool he fell to it: Buy any, buy any fla flaw: p p p pasties, and p p p pudding p p p pies, p p p, &c.  
And ever as he hit the on word, he would pat with his finger on his other hand, that more and more it would make a man burst with laughing, almost to see his action: sometime he would be pronouncing one word while one might go to the door and come again: But ever after, Gentiles would request him to speak that, where before Derryes fair was all his Song.  
He came not long after( to this I am witness; because my ears heard it) to a Gentlemans not far from Upton vpon Seuerne in Glocester-shire: where at the Table( amongst many Gallants and Gentlewomen, almost the state of the Country) he was to iest and sing, especially they entreated him for his new speech of the Pées: which he began in such manner to speak, with driueling and stuttering, that they began mightily to laugh: insomuch that one proper Gentlewoman among the rest, because shee would not seem too immodest with laughing: for such to the 〈◇〉 〈◇〉 that think to make all when God 〈◇〉 they mar 〈◇〉 so shée straining herself, though inwardly she laughed heartily, gave out such an earnest of her modesty; that all the Table rung of it. Who is that, says one? Not I, says another: but by her cheeks you might find guilty Gilbert, where he had hide the brush. This Iest made them laugh more, and the rather that shée stood vpon her marriage, and disdained all the Gallants there, who so heartily laughed that an old Gentle woman at the Table took such a conceit at it with laughing, that had not the fool been, which stood( by fortune) at her back, & was her supporter, being in a great swoon, she had fallen to the ground backward: but down they burst the windows for air, & there was no little boot, to bid run: shée was nine or ten dayes ere shée recovered that fit on my knowledge. Thus simplo jack made mirth to all, made the wisest laugh, but to this day gathered little wit to himself.  
This quoth the World is mere mirth without mischief and I allow of it; Folly without faults is as reddish without salt may pass in digestion one without the other, & do better, where both together engenders but rheum, & mirth does well in any. I says Sotto so way you not the true weight, as it is sufferable to be whole so it is saluable to be hurt, and one to the other gives aim, but to be neither is monstrous. I would fain moral of it if you please. leave was granted, for the World knew it would else be commanded, and Sotto thus points at the Parable. By the first merry emblem I reach at stars, how they fire themthemselues in the firmament, whether it be with sitting too near the sun in the day, or couching to near the moon in the night I know not, but the hair of their happiness often fals off, and shoots from a blazing comet to a fallen star, and carries no more light then is to be seen in the bottom of Platoes inck-horne, and where they should study in private with Diogenes in his Cell, they are with Cornelius in his tub. By the second, the clean sooles of this world are patternd, who so neately stand vpon their ruffs & shooties, that the brain is now lodged in the foot, and thereupon comes it that many make their head their foot, and employment is the drudge to prodigality, made saucy through the mud of their own minds, where they so oft stick fast that banks his horse with all his strength & cunning cannot draw them out. By the third is figured saucy adventure in folly, for wisdom puts forward no further then warrant, and for pleasure the wisest make themselves fools. To conclude this foolish description of the fourth, many sing out their times and like idiots true born, confounded with folly what was created more holy, stutting out trifles that out method matter of more weight, where nisetie herself will let go in laughter, though she spoil her marriage. The World likte not this well, but bit the lip again, but as rich men suffer wrongs for advantage, took her pennerths together, casts her eye a side, and sees a comely fool indeed passing more stately, & who was this forsooth will summers, one not meanly esteemed by the King for his merriment, his mellody was of a higher strain, and he looked as the noon broad waking. His description was writ in his fore-head and ye might red it thus:  


Will summers born in Shropshire, as some say,  
Was brought to Greenwitch on a holy day,  
Presented to the King, which fool disdayn'd,  
To shake him by the hand; or else ashamed,  
How er'e it was, as ancient people say,  
With much ado was won to it that day.  
lean he was, hollow eyde, as all report;  
And stoop he did too, yet in all the Court,  
Few men were more beloved, then was this fool,  
Whose merry prate kept with the King much rule,  
When he was sad, the King and he would rhyme.  
Thus Will exiled sadness many a time.  
I could describe him, as I did the rest;  
But in my mind I do not think it best:  
My reason this, how e're I do descry him,  
So many knew him, that I may belie him.  
Therefore to please all people one by one,  
I hold it best to let that pains alone.  
Onely thus much, he was a poor mans friend,  
And helped the widow often in the end:  
The King would ever grant what he did crave;  
For well he knew Will no exacting knave:  
But wished the King to do good deeds great store,  
Which caused the Court to love him more and more.    
The world was in love with this merry fool, and said he was fit to the time indeed, therefore deserude to be well regarded. Insomuch as shée longed to hear his friscoes morrallised, and his gambals set down. And Sotto as willingly goes forward thus:  
WIll summers, in no little credit in the Kings Court, walking in the Park at Gréenwich, fell a sleep on the style that leads into the walk, and many that would haue gone that way, so much loved him, that they were loth to disease him, but went another way, I, the better sort: for now adays beggars are gallants, while gentiles of right blood seem tame russians: but note the love that Will summers got: A poor woman seeing him sleep so dangerously, either to fall backward, or to hurt his head, leaning so against a post, fetch him a cushen & a rope, the one for his head, & the other to bind him to the post, from falling backward & thus he slept, & the woman stood by, attending as groom of his chamber.  
It chanced so, that vpon great occasion, as you shall after hear, will summers uncle came out of Shropshire to seek him in the Court, a plain old man of threescore years, with a buttoned cap, a lockram falling band, course, but clean, a russet coat, a white belt of a horse hid, right horse-coller, white-leather, a close round bréech of russet shéeps wool, with a long stock of white kersey, a high shoo with yellow buckles, all white with dust: for that day the good old man had come three & twenty miles on foot. This kind old man coming up in his countries behalf, & coming into Gréenwitch, asked the way to the Court: every one directs him, but one villain page. directs him by the Court gate, to cross in a Boat over to Blackwal, and  told him that was the Court. The silly old man willingly paid his penny before hand, & was going over: but some that ouer-heard their talk, hindered his journey, and laughed at the Iest, yet pitied his simplicity, and sets him the right way. When he came in & saw such a place, he was amazed and stood gazing: which the Gard & Gentlewomen in their windows had much sport to see: at last one asked him what he was?  
The old man answers, a poor Shropshire man & demands if there were not a Gentleman in the Court dwelling, called by the name of M. William summers?( for the Country hearing him in favour in the Court, said he was so at least.) The Courtier answered, here is such a one indeed. For fault of a worse, says he, I am his Uncle, & wept with ioy, that he should see him. mary says the man, Ile help you to him strait: for I tell you, not any in the court drust but haue sought him, which this man did, and it was  told them, he was walked into the park, while the King slept that hote day: thether went they to seek him. All this while my friend William was in counsel with the post, and the cushen stood as arbitrator betwixt them, and the woman by as a witness what was said & done, at last, came these two and wakened him. William seeing his head soft, what soft post is this, quoth he? A post of mine own making, says the woman. But she lost nothing by her good will: for ere shée left Will. summers, shée got him to get her sons pardon of the King, who was to be hanged, three dayes after for piracy: but by Will. summers means he deceived the hangman. This and many good deeds he did to diuers.  
The fool being wakened, looks about him, when he had thanked the woman, asked what news? says the man, sir, here is your uncle come out of the Country to see you. God a mercy cousin, says will summers. I thank thee for thy labour, you cannot uncle me so. Yes truly Sir, I am your own dear uncle, M. William, and with that wept. Are you my uncle says Will? I sir, says he. Are you my Uncle, says he again? I sure & verily too. But are you my uncle indeed? by my vusse I am says the old man. Then uncle by my vusse welcome to Court, says Will summers, but what make you héere uncle? He up and tells his coming to him. Will takes him by the hand, come says he thou shalt see Harry, uncle, the onely Harry in England, so he lead him to the chamber of Presence, and ever & anon cries. ware room for me & my uncle, & knaves bid him welcome. You are welcome sir said they, the old man thought himself no earthly man, they honoured him so much.  
But Will ready to enter the Presence, looks on his uncle, and seeing him not fine enough to look on the King: Come uncle says he, we will haue your gear mended, leads him to his chamber, & attires him in his best fools coat, simply God wot, meaning well to him, and the simplo old man as simply put it on, cap & all. Out they come, and up they came, and to the King they go, who being with the Lord Treasurer alone merry, seeing them two, how Will had got another fool, knew there was sport at hand. How now says the King, what news with you? O Harry says he, this is my own uncle, bid him welcome. well said the King he is welcome. Harry says he hear me tell thee a tale, and I will make thee rich, & my uncle shalbe made rich by thee. Will tells the King, how Terrils frith was enclosed. Tirrils frith, says the King? what is that? Why, the Heath where I was born, called by the name of Terils Frith: now a gentleman of that name takes it all in, and makes all the people believe it is his, for it took the name from him: so that Harry the poor pine, & their cattle are all undone without thy help.  
And what should I do says the King? mary says Will sand to the Bishop of Hereford, he is a great man with Terrill, command him to set the Frith at liberty again, who is now imprisoned by his means. And how shall I be rich by that says the King? The poor will pray for thee says Will, & thou shalt be rich in heaven, for on earth thou art rich already. All this was done, & Wils uncle went home who while he lived for that deed was allowed Bayly of the Common, which place was worth twenty pound a year.  
howsoever these three things came in memory, & are for mirth inserted into stage plays, I know not; but that Will summers asked them of the King, it is certain, there are some will affirm it now living in Gréenewich. The King vpon a time being extreme melancholy and full of passion, all that Will could do will not make him merry. Ah, says he, this must haue must haue a good shower to cleanse it, & with that goes behind the Arras. Harry( says he isle go behind the Arras and study three questions, and come again, see therefore you lay aside this melancholy muse, & study to answer me. I( quoth the King) they will be wise ones no doubt. At last out comes William with his wit, as the fool of the play doth with an antic look, to please the beholders. Harry says he, what is that the lesser it is, the more it is to be feared? The King mused at it, but to grace the iest the better he answered he knew not. Will made answer it was a little bridge over a deep river, at which he smiled. What is the next William says the King? mary this is next, what is the cleanliest trade in the world? Mary says the King I think a Comfitmaker, for he deals with nothing but pure ware, & is attired clean in white linen when he sels it. No Harry says Will, you are wide. What say you then, qd. the King? mary says Will I say a durtdauber Out on it says the King, that is the foulest, for he is dirty up to the elbows. I says Will, but then he washes him clean again, & eats his meat cleanly enough. I promise thee Will says the King thou hast a pretty foolish wit, I Harry says he it will serve to make a wiser man then you a fool me thinks, at this the King laughed, & demands the third question. Now tell me says Will if you can, what it is that being born without life, head, lip or eye, yet doth run roaring through the World till it die? this is a wonder qd the King, & no question, I know it not. Why qd Will it is a fart. At this the King laughed heartily, & was exceeding merry, and bids Will ask any reasonable thing, and he would grant it. Thanks Harry says he, now against I want I know where to find, for yet I need nothing, but one day I shall, for every man sees his latter end, but knows not his beginning. The King understood his meaning, and so pleasantly departed for that season, & Will laid him down amongst the Spaniels to sleep.  
ON a time appointed the King dined at Windsor in the chapel yard, at cardinal Wolseys, at the same time when he was building that admirable work of his tomb, at whose gate stood a number of poor people to be served of alms when dinner was done within, and as Will past by they saluted him, taking him for a worthy parsonage, which pleased him. In he comes, and finding the King at dinner, & the cardinal by attending, to disgrace him that he never loved, Harry says he, lend me ten pound. What to do says the King? to pay three or four of the Cardinals creditors quoth he, to whom my word is past, & they are come now for the money. That thou shalt Will quoth he. Creditors of mine says the cardinal? Ile give your Grace my head if any man can justly ask me a penny. No says Will? lend me tend pounds, if I pay it not where thou owest it, Ile give thee twenty for it. do so says the King, that I will my Liege says the cardinal, though I know I owe none. With that he lends Will ten pounds. Will goes to the gate & distributes it to the poor, & brought the empty bag, there is thy bag again says he, thy creditors are satisfied, and my word out of danger.  
Who received it, says the king? the Brewer or the Baker? neither ( Harry) says Will summers: But( cardinal) answer me in one thing: To whom dost thou owe thy soul? To God( quoth he) To whom thy wealth? To the poor, says he. Take thy forfeit ( Harry) says the fool, open confession, open pennance: his head is thine, for to the poor at the gate I paid his debt, which he yields is due: or if thy stony heart will not yield it so, save thy head by denying thy word, and lend it me: thou knowest I am poor, & haue neither wealth nor wit, and what thou lendest to the poor, God will pay thee ten fold: he is my surety, arrest him, for by my troth hang me when I pay thee. The King laughed at the iest, and so did the Cardiuall for a show, but it grieved him to iest away ten pound so: yet worse tricks then this Will summers served him after, for indeed he could never abide him: and the forfeiture of his head had like to haue been payed, had he not poisoned himself.  
THere was in the time of Will summers, another artificial fool or jester in the Court, whose subtlety heaped up wealth by gifts given him, for which Will summers could never abide him: but indeed lightly one fool cannot endure the sight of another, as jack oats the minstrel in the flat fools story, and one beggar is woe, that another by the door should go. This jester was a big man, of a great voice, long black locks, & a very big round beard: on a time( of purpose) Will summers watched to disgrace him, when he was ingling & jesting before the King. Will summers brings up a mess of milk and a manchet, Harry says he, lend me a spoon: fool says the jester, use thy hands, help hands for I haue no lands, and meant, that saying would warrant his gross feeding. I says Will summers, Beasts will do so, and Beasts will bid others do, as they do themselves. Will, said the King, thou knowst I haue none: true Harry says he, I know that, therfore I asked thee, & I would( but for doing thee harm) thou hadst no tongue to grant that fool his next suit, but I must eat my cream some way. The King, the jester and all gathers about him to see him eat it. Will begins thus to rhyme over his milk: 
This bit Harry I give to thee, & this next bit must serve for both which Ile eat apace:( me,  
This bit madam unto you, and this bit I myself eat now, and all the rest vpon thy face.   
Meaning the fool, in whose beard & head the bread and milk was thick sown, & his eyes almost put out. Will summers he gets him gone for fear. This lusty jester forgetting himself, in fury draws his dagger, & begings to protest: nay says the King, are ye so hote, claps him fast, & though he draws his dagger here, yet let him put it up in another plaee. The poor abused jester, was jested out of countenance, and lay in durance a great while, till Will summers was fain( after he had broken his head to give him a plaster) to get him out again: but never after came my juggler in the Court more, so near the King, being such a dangerous man to draw in the presence of the King.  
Now Lady world says Sotto you wonder at this first iest, do not tis common, for who so simplo that being gordgd with broth themselves, will not give their friends on spoonful, especially our kin. O wele to make them great make ourselves, & pollitikly rise again by their greatness. But he was simplo in that, for though he raised many, himself stood at one stay. But the deed is not common therefore may fitly be termed a flooles deed, since the wise meddle not with it, unless to plunge further in and wind from poverty. But leave it to the greatest power of all to remedy and reuenge, while earthly majesty grows great by adding liberty totheir afflictions, as in our commons of late, God preserve him for it. By the second morrally, signification gives this, that fools questions reach to mirth, leading wisdom by the hand as age leads children by one finger, and though it holds not fast in wisdom, yet it points at it. Better so then the wise to put questions to fools, for thatis to put the money out of the bag, & leave the money behind to bad use, while themselves beg with the bag. Such like Will summers steep 'mongst dogs. The third bids us charitably learn of simplicity to pay our debts, when the poor creditor calls for it, but tis a general fault, and such who haue doors shut whereat the poor stand, shal find gates fast where themselves may not enter, but especially we of the laity, for while the Pastor cherishes the soul, we seek to starve the body, but lets be mindful least decaying one we loose both. O the world could not endure this but offered to sting away. Nay nay says the Cinnick soft & faire, a word or too more, & half angry looking into his glass sees one all in blew, carrying his neck on the one side, looking sharply, drawing the leg after him in a strange manner, describd in méeter thus: 
Some thing tall dribling ever, body small merry never:  
Splay footed visage black, Little beard it was his lack.  
Flat capt still in view, The cities charge many knew:  
Long coated, at his side Muckinder and inckhorne tide.  
Preaching still unto boyes, aiming well, but reaching toys:  
loving all hating none, less such as let him not alone,  
As a lived, so a dyde: Was deaths scorn, though lifes pride.   
This is singular indeed says the world, I long to héere of this dry poor John. His name is John indeed says the Cinnick, but neither John a nods, nor John a dreams, yet either as you take it, for he is simply simplo without tricks, not sophisticated like your Tobacco to taste strong, but as Nature aloud him he had his talent. Whereat the World so fickled her spleen that she was a gog, clap her hands for ioy, and says she was deeply satisfied, and cried more. The crooked stick of feverish that gave this sweet relish, being to set his teeth to it, wipes his rheumy beard, & ●nites his philosophical nose, snapping his fingers Barber-like after a dry shaving, iogs on thus:  
THis innocent idiot, that never harmed any, before I enter any further, I will let you understand in two words, how he came to be of the hospital of Christs church: Some certain years since( but not a few years) there dwelled a poor blind woman in Bow-lane in London, called by the name of blind Alice, who had this foolé of a child to led her, in whose house he would sit, either on the stairs, or in a corner, & sing psalms, or preach to himself of Peter and Paul, because he delighted to go to Sermons with blind Alice and heard the Preacher talk of them. It chanced the worshipful of the city( good benefactors to the poor) to take her into Christs hospital, with whom John went as a guide to led her: who being old after shée dyed, he was to be turned out of door: but the city more destrous to pitty then to be cruel, placed him as a fostered fatherless child, and they did well in it too, seeing he was one of Gods Creatures, though some difference in persons.  
Well, to go forward in what I promised you: John went to S. Pauls Church in London, to meet with M. Nowell the dean, whose bounty to him was great, and the fool knew it well enough, whom he would duly attend after his preaching, for ever he gave him at their meeting a groat, and he would bring it to his Nurse: well, M. dean preached not that day: whereupon John stands in a corner with boyes flocking about him, and begins to preach himself, holding up his muckender for his book, and reads his Text.  
It is written( says he) in the 3. Chapter of Paul to the Corinthians: Brethren, you must not swear( for that was lightly all his text) then thus he begins: whereas or whereunto it is written: for because you must believe it: for surely else we are no Christians writ the Sermon( Boy) says he( as the hospital Boyes do) & then one must writ on his hand with his finger, and then he would go forward thus: The world is proud, and God is angry if we do not repent. Good friend give me a pin, or good friend give me a point, as it came in his mind: and so sucking up his driuell and breath together, would pray & make an end: which being done, who bids me home to dinner now, says John? The Boyes that knew his qualities, answers, that do I, John. Thank ye friend says he, and goes home to his own dwelling at Christs Church. But at this time one wealthy Marchants son, to make his father merry, bad him home to dinner indeed, & will he or nill he, he must go with him, with much ado John went, & coming into the house, simply sits him down( as his use was) in the chimney corner. It was in Lent, when pease pottage bare great sway, & when every pease must haue his ease: John beholding pease pottage on the fire, thought on his Nurse, for he was all saving for her, & seeing no body by, stepped to the pot, & put a great ladle of pottage into his pocket, & pittiously burnt his thigh, & but that the leather was thick, it had been worse.  
John feeling something burn, leaped & cried: they ran in to see the matter why he cried, but more & more he exclaimed, I burn, I burn, & got out of doors, & never leaves till he came to his nurse, who quickly shifted him, & mended what was amiss, but the iest was to see the folk of the house who wondering what he ailed, could not devise what the matter was: but a beggar in the entry, who beholded al,  told the truth of the matter, who lost a good alms for his labour. But thus simplo John by his own folly, died the inside of his pocket, pease pottage tawny, and set a good scarlet read vpon his thigh.  
GAffer Homes being Sexton of Christs Church, would often set John a work, to toll the Bell to prayers or burials, wherein he delighted much: it chanced so, that coming through the Church, and having nothing to do, seeing the bel so easily to come by, towles it. The people( as the custom is) repairs to Church( as they used) to know for whom it was. John answers them still, for his nurses chicken. They said, wherefore toules the bel, John? I know not. When dyed he? even now. Who, John? Who? my nurses chicken, quoth he, & laughs. This iest was known to every neighbour thereabouts, who sent to bid him leave touling: but it was not his custom, till goodman Homes took the rope from him, that gave the rope to him,  
Well, there stood jack towling from four a clock to sire, goodman Homes being from home, who was not a little vexed at Iohns diligence, but laid the rope ever after, where John could not reach it.  
John was of this humour, ask him what his coat cost him, he would say a groat: what his cap, band or shirt cost, all was a groat: ask what his beard cost, and still a groat▪ So one Friday morning there was a Gentleman to ride down into Warwickshire, about payment of an hundred pound vpon a b●nos forfeiture: the time was next day, by Sun set, it was no boot to bid him pull on his boots & be gone. Well he made hast, & went to do it without bidding, & yet for all his hast, his bootes were seame-rent, and must haue a stitch or two needs: he sends them to a cobbler next to Christs Church gate in Newgate market, who was diligent to mend them strait: and as he had done, comes John of the hospital to him( as his use was) to carry home his work, & he sends John home with the boots: As John was going through Iuy lane, a Country fellow that knew him not, meets him, and seeing the boots, What shall I give thee for them says he, John( who sold every thing for a groat) asked a groat. The fellow seeing it was a good pennyworth, gives him a groat & departs with the boots. John, as his use was gave it to his Nurse. She asked him where he had it? he said, for boots: but shée not knowing his mind, fell to work again as he found her.  
The forfeiture of the bond so hammered in this Gentlemans head, that he thought every hour two, till he had his boots, & mused they came not from mending, sends for them presently. One comes sweeting,( zoones) cobbler the boots, & being at work very busy, I says he, they are mended and carried home. Another comes, boots, boots. Would she boots were in your belly, quoth the cobbler, once again they are gone home. By and by comes the Gentleman in his white linen boot-hose ready to the purpose. A pox of lazy cobblers says he, my boots, shall I forfeit a bond for your pleasure? The cobbler puts of his considering cap, why sir, says he, I sent them home but now. By whom says he? By John view John says the cobbler. The Gentleman he runs home one way, the cobbler another: well no boots were to be had: the Gentleman he stayed, and the cobbler he prayed, but all this while the boots delayed and came not.  
The cobbler seeks John at his nurses where he was, and found the boots were sold for a groat. The cobbler seeing no remedy, because the Gentleman was in hast, gives him five shillings with a heavy hey ho, towards a new pair, & lost four shillings eight pence by the bargain: but the cobbler would never let John carry home his ware more: nay, says the cobbler, if my money can be booted and ride post so by five shillings at a time, it is no boot for me to say 〈◇〉, but the next bootes Ile make a page. of my own age, and carry home myself: for I see fools will afford good penniworths.  
ON Gaster monday the ancient rustome is, that all the children of the hospital go before my Lord Maior to the Spittle, that the world may witness the works of God and man, in maintenance of so many poor people, the better to stir up living mens mindes to the like good. Before which the children of the hospital like a captain goes John, whom to behold the people flock apace, & the weather being hote their thrusting made John extreme dry. John considered he was like to fast while dinner, yet kept on his rank to the Spittle, where the cans did walk a place by his nose but never came at him, which made him more eager of drink. Well while the children were placing, John stood making of water, & seeing a gentlemans door open slips in, and the household without standing to see my Lord Mayor pass by not regarded him, but he whose nose had wit to smell good beer got down into the Seller, & fell to it tipple square, till he was lost & quiter drunk, and laid himself to sleep behind two barrels, & vnséene slept all that day. In the Sermon time he was mist, sought & not found The afternoon came, the Gentlemans Butler with other good fellowes fell to carovie soundly, till the Butler was laid up too: héere was a Seller well fraught with fools: but all this while the beadels failed not to search up and down the city, the crier cried a man child of the age of two & thirty years, for at least he was so old. But return we to the seller: the two drunkards waked both together. John calls Nurse, Nurse, which the Butler( half awake) hearing thought the divell had been playing bo péep with him, but when he looked and beholded him imagining how it was, he secretly sent him to the hospital, least he were blamed for his negligence in looking to the door no better.  
A number of things more John did, which I omit, fearing to be tedious: not long after he dyed, and was old, for his beard was full of white hairs, as his picture in christs hospital( now to be seen) can witness: buried he is, but with no Epitaph. me thinks, those that in his life time could afford him his picture, might with his grave yield so much as four lines, that people may see where he lies, whom they so well knew, and if I might persuade, his Motto should be to this effect:  


Here sleeps blew John, that gives  
Food to feed worms, and yet not lives:  
You that pass by look on his grave,  
And say, yourselves the like must haue.  
Wise men and fools all one end makes:  
Gods will be done who gives and takes.    
Surely says mistris nicety this pleases well to see one so naturally silly to be simply subtle, it is strange, but I hear it and like a tale out of a poor mans mouth hardly credit it. This fool says Sotto signifies many who come to Church to meet acquaintance, more then for piety, & will sooner sell the Church for money, then pawn ought to underprop it. At these the boyes and children of this world wonder, while manly age sees and will not see. For these as the second tale says, Folly towles the bell, and a number longs to hear it ring out, when the loss of Iohns chicken is of more want then theirs, but a rope out it, it will one day be better. Ther are as Hamlet says things called whips in store. The third iest of John, shows morrally many things, amongst which things, I mean works, are so cobbeld that to rid it with quickness, folly may bear it up and down to the owner. While workmanship & time is méerely abused, but it boots not to meddle in this, least some say, ne sutra, &c. But let me tel ye this by the way World, there are knaves in thy seams, that must be ript out, I says the world and such I fear was your father. O no says the Critticke, he was the silly Gentleman that stayed while the fool brought home his boots, & so forfeited his bond, that his good conditions lay at gauge for it mary, yes say the World and was after canseld at the gallows, for such as he lies in wait to cousin simplycitie, and for a groat buy that, which well got deserves a portague. At this the Cinnick fretted, and héere they begin to challengde the combat, but a parley sounded, summoned them to the last tail with John to the cellar in the spittle. Where if they please they may carrowse freely, though they die deep in scarlet as many do, till they loose themselves in the open streets, such Diogenes sought at noon daies with a lantern and a candle. Well the World so bufteted the Cinnicke at his own weapon, that he plays with her as weak fencers, that carries flesh up and down for others to dress. Such was the Cinnick, uns kilfull in quips and worldly flaunts, rather to play with short rods and give venies till all smart again, not in the brains, as the world did, but in the buttocks as such do, having their joses displayed, making them expert till they cry it up in the top of question.  
Our sullen Cinnick sets by his glass in malice, knits a betill brow till the room grew dark again, which the wanton World seeing flings out of his Cell like a girl at barley break, leaving the last couple in hell, away she gads and never looks behind her. A whirlwind says the Cinnick go after, is this all my thanks, the old payment still, doth the world still reward mortality thus, is virtue thus bed ridden, can shée not help herself? and looks up to heaven as he should say some power assist. But there he sat freting in his own grease, and for ought I know no body came to help him.   

CONCLVSIO.  
Thus Gentlemen as the kind hostes salutes her guests, saying you see your cheer and you are welcome, so say I. It may be you like it not, I am sorrier, you will say these salads were ill dressed, like enough, but good stomacks digest any thing, and that it was a dry feast: the Cinnick bad not the world so much as drink: true, a worldling right, who as the word is, drink before you go, sets the cart before the horse and says, go before you drink, why may he not in his cell? his betters will. I haue seen it in Gentlemens cellars, but I cry you mercy, there I think it is drink till you cannot go. Bownce is the worlds motto there, till they discharge the drain of all good abearing, making the body break the peace in every corner, but blame me not, I am tedeous, pardon my folly, writing of folly, if you knew, you would say nec mirum. Where fore if my pardon may be purchased then so, if not you may bid me keep my fools company.  
FINIS.