Don Samuel Crispe: Or, The Pleasant HISTORY Of the KNIGHT OF FOND LOVE. Adorned and Embellished with Sundry Rare and Delightful ADVENTURES  
LONDON: Printed in the Year MDCLX.   

To all the Madams, Ladies and Gentlewomen in England, Scotland and Ireland, and the Dominions thereunto belonging.  
Madams, fair Ladies, and Gentlewomen,  
THere is a Proverb which saith, That some are wise, and some are otherwise: Whence I infer, that all men are not wise, but that there are some Fools in the world. The Providence of Nature was great, to chequer the world with such variety. For how could wisemen recreate their serious Contemplations, were not some men born to make them merry with their folly? I know, Ladies, you do not always contemplate upon Brightman, always read Love ' s Works; there is a time when you exhilarate yourselves with looking on the labours of S. George, Palmerin of England, Bevis of South-hampton, Don Quixot, and the like: Now had all the world been Plato's, Solon's, Calvin's and Calamy's, what would you have done for the merry humours of these men?  
Therefore that I might no longer hid my light under a Bushel, but be useful in my Generation, and show to the world that there was such a man as myself, upon Earth, I have here made bold to present you with the choicest Flowers of my Amorous Frolicks; and to set these my Adventures as so many Sentinels to guard Melancholy from your thoughts.  
If I have not acted my part so fully to my intentions, as I ought, upon the Stage of the World; Ladies, I beg your pardon, desiring you to tell me where I have failed, and to impose your further Commands upon,  
Ladies, Your Sempiternal Vassal, SAM. CRISP.   

Don SAMUEL CRISPE: OR, THE PLEASANT HISTORY OF The Knight of Fond Love.  

CHAP. 1.  
Of the Birth, Parentage and Education of the Knight of Fond Love.  
IN the Reign of Oliver, Protector of England, there dwelled in the famous City of London, the chief Metropolis thereof, a Gentleman, who being well skilled in the Art of Physic, first got Practice, than a Wife, and then Children.  
His name was Crispe: some say, Of the ancient Family of Crispus Salustius; though Antiquity hath quite worn away Sallust, and left one crisp behind.  
Among the rest of his Issue, he had three sons; the elder christened Toby, the younger cleped Samuel, and the youngest surnamed Rowland.  
It is reported, that the Mother, while she was with child of these two striplings, dreamt that she brought forth two lumps of Chalk, and a pound of Pomecitron: upon which she went to an ginger, who did thereupon portend the swéetness of the young men's dispositions, and that they should be longed after, by young Virgins.  
All these, as they grew up, grew strait and proper; and for their Faces, they seemed, if they pleased, made to save charges; for they were so good, they needed no Bands. Their Father was not forgetful in their younger years to instil into them she wholesome Precepts contained in the Psalter, Primer and Hornbook, as well for instruction, as to make them capable of reading their Mother Language. But as they grew in years, higher Designs crept into their pates; and they resolved to enrich themselves with such accomplishments as should make them eminent. Prudently therefore considering at what mark to aim, in the first place, they reject Natural Philosophy, as too serious; they spurn away the Mathematics, as too hard a Science for their tender capacities; they kick away Law, calling the Term thereof, Conjuring. Being thus in a deep Debate, quoth Toby to Samuel:  
As I am elder than you, so I may perhaps speak as wisely as you: 'Tis true, I am a Merchant, yet I have idle time enough to spare, and can follow any other handsome employment, to waste leisure-hours: Some men follow drinking; but I cannot maintain quarrels, and therefore I like it not. Some follow gaming; but there's mischief and danger in that, too, especially if a man question the Dice; so that I abjure it. Therefore I am of opinion, that there is no Art so suitable to our Dispositions, as the Art of Love; 'Tis a fine Calling, and a civil: for, Ladies, Brothers, will not only not fight, but love; and doubtless love us, being proper and handsome: Besides, Brother, as I take it, there is a Duty lying upon young men, to serve and wait upon young Ladies and Gentlewomen.  
Toby having ended this Speech, Samuel shouted for joy, saying to his Brother, that he was wiser than Solomon, and had more discretion than his Namesake, who was judge of Israel: But Brother, two heads are better than one; and therefore, as you have begun the invention, you shall see how bravely I will contride the rest: For you must know, Brother, that before we can practise this Art, to wait upon Ladies, as we should do, we must be knighted, and assume unto ourselves certain Titles, after we have studied those things which are most requisite to accomplish us. Thus was St. George knighted before he could conquer the Dragon, for the King's Daughters sake, and was called, The Knight of the Red Cross. So likewise, the Grocer's Apprentice, before he could be fit to wait on his Mistrusses daughter, was knighted, and called, The Knight of the Burning Pestle. First, therefore, let us learn to dance, then let us read the several Books and Treatises that may better our complimental Language, and then I shall not question but to find out some person or other, who may give us our Order.   

CHAP. II.  
How these two young men proceeded in their Studies, and how they were dubbed by Sir Pemmel, Knight of the Eleemosynary Ale.  
WIth this intention they went to Sir Channel, Knight of the Kitt and Fiddle, who being a man of great experience, and more knowing in his Art, than the seven wise Men of Greece, and withal, meeting with prompt wits and nimble héels, obtained great Renown, and caused their Reputation to dilate itself, both far and near. Only one thing grieved him, that whereas he thought to have made them Masters of the Harmonious Castanets, their capacities could never reach to do any thing worth hearing, upon those Instruments. However, they were not unmindeful to buy up the choicest Books of Compliments, yet not with such a prodigality, as to give the Bookseller what ever he asked, but warily beating him down to the lowest price well knowing, that those who were too lavish in their youth, might come to want in their old age, according to the Doctrine of John De Moon. The next men consulted withel, were Milliner's, touching the variety and priority of colours; and the instructions which they received from them, were wrote down in Table-Books, and conned every morning before they said their Prayers: because their choicest Memorandums were always laid up next their hearts. The next thing they did, was the choice of an able and knowing Tailors a man of good intelligence, as to the Fashion, without whose assistance, they could never be truly accomplished; one good suit of  doing a man more credit, than all the Greek and Latin that ever was spoke since the destruction of Troy. But Lord, to see how coy Fortune is to some, how free to others! These Persons could no sooner wish but have: For going to Fleetstreet, one of these young persons happened to be adry; and seeking for an Alehouse, they lighted in at the sign of the Buffcoat: they called for Ale; 'twas asked whether Eleemosynary, or other Ale? they replied, What Ale's that? quoth the Squire, This is the Castle of Sir Pemmel, Knight of the Eleemosynary Ale, as being that Liquor with which most commonly, he relieves distressed Knights: whereupon they sent for the Knight, who coming courteously unto them, they demanded several Questions; and among the rest, whether he had power to make Knights. Sir Pemmel replied, That he had; and that, if they pleased, he could erect new Orders: at which they received great satisfaction, destring to be made Knights also: and having heard a Catalogue of Orders read to them, they at length pitched upon the Order of Fond Love: which being determined, the Laws were produced and read.  

1. That they should never speak sense to any Lady they went to visit.  
2. That they should give their Ladies often Treatments, and not mind what they spend upon them.  
3. That they go every day to the Exchange, to see the exact Modes of Whisks, and Trim of Gloves, and give their Lady's information accordingly.  
4. That their Handkerchiefs be always perfumed with Orange flower-water.  
5. That they love every Lady they see; and that they have not so bad an opinion of the said Ladies, as to believe they do not love them again.   
Those Laws being read, their Cars were stopped with black Wool, lest any thing contrary to these Orders should enter into them; which being done, they were bid to knéel, when lo, in came Sir Pemmel, and laying the Fire-Fork on their shoulders, bid them, Rise up Sir Toby, and Sir Samuel Cripse, Knights of the Order of Fond Love. After this, they thanked Sir Pemmel for his civility, and gave the Squire the odd penny which was over and above the reckoning, and so departed. Then resolving to have but one Squire between them, to save charges, they went and hired 〈…〉, who readily agréeed to serve them for five shillings a quarter, and their old silk Stockings.   

CHAP. III.  
How Sir Samuel Crispe fell in love with the fair Lady Elizabetha.  
'TWas now the time when the Sun, tired with his tedious Summer marches, goes to bed before six, and rises not till past seven; when lo, at the close of the evening, Sir Samuel, led by his Devotion, goes to the Temple of St. bartholomew's, behind the Royal Exchange. In this place were met sundry fair Ladies, hearing an ancient man speak Divinity unto them. But they, who were before attentive to him, had now another Object to look upon. He came in well tired, his Band and half Shirt clean, his  so in print, and worn with so much care, that he might well be called, The Glory of his Tailor. He entered with a face full of pride and disdain, regardless of courting those, whom he was confident his Person was enough to captivate. But Cupid having a mind to humble him, flies to the eyes of Donna Elizabetha, and from thence shoots him to the heart. 'Tis true as Plowden said, The Case is now altered: For he that but now thought no Lady good enough for him, would now kiss this Lady's Bréech, so he might kiss her hands. Thus fatally struck, he departs; giving his Squire 〈…〉 〈…〉 charge to dog her home, and give him an account of her Lodging.   

CHAP. IU.  
How Sir Samuel lamented his Case, and how he sent a Letter to Elizabetha.  
SIr Samuel being got home, his heart fell a throbbing and beating; as if the Cyclops had been making Thunderbolts there. He fetched sighs from the bottom of his Breast, and farts from the bottom of his Belly: If he eat, it was because he was an hungry; and if he drank, it was to drown sorrow. At length, impatient of delay, he uttered his woes in this sort: Oh most unfortunate of men, and most wretched of young men! unhappy eyes! why were ye not asleep, asleep to sleep, your Destruction? To what purpose am I black and comely, strait and proper, but that women should be in love with me? and must I be now in love with woman? but I am in love, & cannot help it for my heart and guts. O Elizabetha, Elizabetha Tottel, thou hast undone Samuel Crispe. By this time his good Squire 〈…〉 came in, and told him where his Elizabetha lay: whereupon, calling for Pen, Ink and Paper, he thus wrote unto her.  
Sir Samuel to the Fair Elizabetha.  
MADAM,  
MY Heart bells, yea, it is ready to seethe over, because You have inflamed it; O let Your Charity cool it, that it may come to its Temper again: and let not him die, that only desires to live to do you service. I am your Prisoner, captivated in the Fetters of your Hair; O set me at Liberty, that I may be free to wait upon you. Madam, there is no Child loves Plum Cake, no Virgin loves Cheesecake or Cream-tart so well, as I love you. Truly Madam this is truth; and therefore be not cruel to a poor worm, that must of necessity die, if trampled on by the foot of your disdain.  
These words he sealed up in perfumed paper, and delivered to his good Squire 〈…〉, to give unto the fair hands of his Mistress. But 'tis reported, that Elizabetha having read the Letter, gave it her Chambermaid, bidding her make use of it when she went next into the Garden. However, Love would not let him so desist; and therefore, since he could not obtain an answer, he resolves to go in person, as you shall hear in the next Chapter.   

CHAP. V.  
How Sir Samuel went to visit his Elizabetha; and how the Knight of the Cole-wharf durtied his Boot-hose.  
THus resolved, Sir Samuel, powdered by his Barber, trimmed by his Tailor, and Ribanded with such Emphatical Colours, that had he said nothing, his Mistress might have gathered his meaning from his Codpiece, he sets on his journey. But Oh the fate of mortal wights! what a sad disaster befell him! For as he was going in the street, one of the Knights of the Cole-wharf meets him, with his Chariot laden: and as he came to the horsehead, the horse stumbling, all bespattered his Boot-hose. 'Twas a sad thing, to see those white Boot-hose, which his Landress had been one day washing, another day drying, and a third smoothing, all bedaubed in a minute.  
He would have demanded satisfaction of the Knight of the Cole-wharf; but the Knight lifting up his Whip, he thought it better, since his Mistress was not by to take notice of the affront, nor there to inspire him with Valour, to go and shift himself, then to anger that man of choler, who went about to punish Knights, as other men punish dogs. Home therefore goes he, shifts himself, and to prevent the like danger, hires a Coach to carry him and his garments safe to the place where his affections resided.   

CHAP. VI  
How Sir Samuel courted Elizabetha, and how the Chambermaid affronted him; and what happened thereupon.  
SIr Samuel being now in the presence of his Mistress, though at first he were a little daunted at the Majesty of her person, yet finding that he must either speak, or be counted a Puppy, for coming to visit a Lady, and saying nothing; he addressed himself, after a leg or two made in mood and figure, in these following words.  
Madam, seeing the painted cloth of your virtues hang out at the window, and Fame standing at the door with a Trumpet in her hand, I could not choose, out of a natural inclination which I have to sights and Puppet-plays, but step in and behold the monstrousness of your beauties: and now Madam I have seen you, I admire you more than the hairy Gentlewoman. Donna Elizabetha replied, That truly his person was very proper, and his language was very eloquent: but withal she told him, that she was very sorry that he had put himself to so great a trouble, since she found by him (for she could see as far into a Millstone as another) that he was not for her turn. But he confidently, as being now over shoes over boots, returns her answer, That she had created love within him, and that he hoped she would not cause it to be born and die at the same instant: and therefore he petitions her again, in these words: Most celestial beam of beauty, I have received you into my heart, which like a Burning-glass contracting the heat of your rays, is now all on fire, not to be quenched but by the moistening Julep of your affection; and therefore do not deny me life, since it is altogether in your power to give it. To which she festingly replies, that she was sorry she could not subscribe his petition: yet she was glad to see him, for that she never saw a Phoenix before; which she conjectured him to be, because he went about to die in his flames. However, if that were not his intention, rather than he should be scorched to death for love of her, that could not requite him, she would cause her Maid to make water in a basin, that he might bathe and quench his burning breast therein. Sir Samuel thanked her, telling her withal, that any stream of her kindness would be acceptably received into his bosom. But woe is me, (said he, proceeding) for I find my words have made no more impression in your heart, than an arrow on a rock of Adamant: so that I may say of you, that as in the greenest grass is the greatest serpent, in the clearest water the ugliest toad; so is your fair body lined with a cruel soul. Alas, you have no mercy on my Captivity; so that I am like the spaniel, that gnaws his chain, but so●ver spoils his teeth then procures liberty. But as a bladder is to a learning swimmer, so is Hope to me; which makes me apt to believe, that as there is no iron but will be softened with the fire; so there is no heart, how hard soever, that will not be softened by continual prayers. Consider, that the sun disdains not to shine upon the smallest worm. Reconcile yourself to the humblest of your vassals, and do not through Marblehearted cruelty overwhelm him with sense-distracting grief— He would have said more; but Elizabetha impatient of his impertinencies, fling in great haste out of the Room, not so much as staying to see him make his retiring honour.  
Being thus yensively left alone, the Chambermaid comes down, and seeing Sir Samuel in such a sad condition, she accosts him, telling him, that though he had not the way, yet she knew how well enough to prevail with her Mistress; assuring him withal, that for five pieces she would make him possessor of the happiness he sought to enjoy. Sir Samuel shaked his head at this, telling her, That it was for aught he knew, more than he should receive for her portion; but it five shillings would content her, it was at her service. At which words, the Maid discovering the pitiful humour of Sir Samuel, disdaining his proffer, called him Sad Fellow, and Mole-catcher, telling him he did not deserve a Kitchenwench: and as he went out of doors, she pinned a sheet of brown Paper to the Cape of his Cloak; which though it were not written, yet gave many people as he went in the streets, an opportunity sufficient to read the Character of the man.   

CHAP. VII.  
How Sir Samuel sent his Mistress a Copy of Verses, wishing himself a Puppy-dog for his Mistress sake: which he sent by his good Page, 〈…〉; and how 〈…〉 got drunk before he could present them.  
SIR Samuel being thus repulsed, and at his Wit's end, since his person could do nothing, he resolves to try what his parts could do; whereupon knowing his own weakness, he resolves to make use of helps, and to steal where he could and a thing proper to his purpose. At length, he lighted on a Copy in a Play, which pleased him, and which he therefore resolved to make use of: The Verses, as I have heard from a good hand, were these.  

I Swear by Muscadel,  
That I do love thee well,  
And more than I can tell:  
By the white, Claret and Sack,  
I do love thy black, black, black,  
I do love thy black, black, black.   

No Goddess 'mong them all,  
So slender and so tall,  
And grateful too withal,  
Which makes my sinews to crack,  
For thy black, black, black,  
For thy dainty black, black.   

So lovely and so fair,  
Though shadowed with thy hair,  
So nimble just like Air.  
All these set me on loves wrack  
For thy black, black, black,  
For thy dainty black, black.   

Thy kind and cunning Eye  
When first I did spy,  
My love, it did raise high.  
You saying, What d'ye lack?  
I answered, Thy black, black,  
Thy dainty black, black, black.   

Madam, you have a pretty Puppy,  
O that I were that pretty Puppy.  
Then should I be beloved of thee.  
Kisses from thee I should not lack,  
And, lie in thy Lap near thy black, black,  
Near thy dainty black, black, black.   
These Verses he enclosed in a Sheet of gilt Paper, superscribing it, To the most flourishing bud of honour, and Rose of delight, Donna Elizabetha Tottel, these present. Thus superscribed, he delivered them to his good Squire 〈…〉, to carry unto her: but Jack thinking there was no great haste of the business, gets into company, and falls a drinking: but at length, when the Ale had put high thoughts into his Noddle, he thought it was time to go about his business: but he knowing the respect his Knight hare unto the Lady, when he came to present the Paper, fell in a most humble manner at her feet; and having something more to deliver to her then his Knight imposed upon him, he spewed upon her shoes, thereby enigmatically setting forth the streams of his Master's affection: raised again at length upon his Legs, he began his Speech: Madam quoth he,— hickup— my Master— hickup— hath sent you some— hickup— some Verses; wherein— hickup— he hath declared— hickup— the reality— hickup— of his affections— hickup— as-plainly— hickup— as the Nose— hickup— in your face.— The Lady Elizabetha, seeing the young Squire in such a condition, and that he wanted lodging, caused him to be conveyed out of doors into the Porch, where he lay till the Watch came by: who then took him, and put him in the Round-house; whence being set at liberty, he went to Sir Samuel, relating to him his, and his own doleful misfortunes.   

CHAP. VIII.  
How Sir Samuel fell in love with another Lady, and how he sought to win her affections.  
SIR Samuel now finding Elizabetha so stubborn and refractory to his desires, he was resolved to have two strings to his bow. Now so it sell out, that walking one day toward the close of the evening, he espied standing at her door, a Lady passing fair and beautiful. He had already experience that the Ladies were not taken with the proporness of his person, or the comeliness of his face. Pondering therefore upon many ways and means to attain his ends, he began to think of the great power of money. It may be, quoth he to himself, this Lady may want some Geugaws, as Gloves, Pins and Ribans; now if I should furnish her handsomely with a small sum, certainly I shall eternally oblige her heart and affections to me. In this Contemplation, he walks to and fro three or four times by her: at length, thinking it not convenient to proffer money to a Lady whom he never saw before in his life, he resolved to put his coin into a bag, and drop it as it were by accident before her. This he did in imitation of Jupiter, thinking to have enjoyed this Lady in a shower of Silver, as Jove enjoyed Diana in a shower of Gold. But such was the misfortune of this infortunate Knight, that the Lady frighted at the fall of the bag, fearing some Trapan, ran in adoors; leaving it to be taken up by the next Passenger, who scrupled not to pocket up the price of Sir samuel's Love; with a resolution doubtless not to put it to any such frivolens use again. All this while Sir Samuel stood hugging his invention not far off; and at length seeing the Catastrophe, with a patience like that of Job, beheld the loss doth of his Mistress and his money, without taking any further notice thereof.   

CHAP. IX.  
How Sir Samuel put on a disguise, and went to seek Elizabetha in the Country.  
SIR Samuel being foiled in this adventure, resolves to seek his old Elizabetha, whose love could not yet be removed out of his heart: but coming to visit her, he found her gone into the Country. Laying therefore hold of this opportunity to show the constancy of his affections, he resolves in a disguise to go in pursuit of her: but what disguise must this be? he would not put on women's clothes, for fear of being taken for a Whore, as Sir George Booth was. At length, he agreed upon the habit of a Shepherd swain; having read how that Love 〈◊〉 commonly is clad in rural Weeds, and lives in Cottages. ●● the first place, therefore, he puts on a pair of Leather Breeches, and a Doublet of the same; his Legs he covers with course green Stockings; his Feet with Russet Shoes; his head with an old white Hat: and thns accoutred, he leaves the sight of Paul's Steeple.   

CHAP. X.  
How Sir Toby and Laurence fell both in love with the same Lady, and how Laurence wished the Devil take his Brother Sir Toby.  
LEaving now Sir Samuel in the Country, let us see what becomes of Sir Toby, and Lawrence the younger of the three Brethren. These two being acquainted with a Lady of great beauty, happened both to fall in love with her. Sir Toby thought he deserved her best, as being the elder Brother and a Knight: Laurence thought she ought to love him best, as having thrown his affections first upon her. However, there happened great contention between them, so that they lived in perpetual strife. Lawrence willing to reconcile the difference; Brother, said he, you know how good a thing it is for Brethren to agree together: You and I, 'tis true, love one and the same Lady; now to reconcile this difference, I will propose three things to you, and let him that wins her, take her; that is, either let us play first come to three hits at Tick-tack for her, or let us play an hundred and threescore up at Trap-ball for her; or let us play at push pin, and he that wins the first five pins, let him take her a God's name. Sir Toby, though he could not but confess these three Propositions to be very reasonable, yet being blinded with love, he continued obstinate, and would yield to nothing: which caused great anger in Laurence, so that now in all companies, he curses his Brother, wishing him hanged and at the Devil; and hath a great pick at his Mother for bringing him forth to be his Rival.   

CHAP. XI.  
How Sir Samuel returned without seeing his Elizabetha, and how he had like to have been taken for a Spy.  
SIr Samuel, as we said, being now in the Country, and having proceeded some two days journey, at length lighted into an Alehouse, where he intended to repose that night: but as he sa●e at Supper, the good Woman of the house observing the lily whiteness of his hands, as also the softness of his palms, and seeing him pull out some Gold out of his Pocket, thought to herself that this could not be a Shepherd swain, but certainly some Prince in disguise. Which caused the Woman, the times being then very troublesome, loath to harbour concealed persons contrary to the Act; and looking also for gain upon discovery, to give notice to the next justice, of Sir samuel's being there. Whereupon Sir Samuel was sent for, and prudently examined; for as Sir Samuel himself relates, they took him for the King, though others say, They only took him for an ordinary Spy; which is most likely: the next thing they did, was to search him; but finding nothing but Love-Letters, and a company of ridiculous Verses about him, the justice and his Clerk agreed with him for 10 pound in Gold to dismiss him: And so his money being spent, he was forced, without beholding his Mistress' Angelic Face, to return, with his purse as empty as his head.   

CHAP. XII.  
Of his adventure in a Wood near Tunbridge, and of his resolution to retire into a Monastery.  
'TWas now the time of the year when there is a great resort of people of both sexes at Tunbridge, a small village in Kent, famous for the purging Springs that are there found. Thither goes our Knight to make up the number of Skimmerers. Hard by, there stands a Wood, which Sir Samuel made his retiring place to recreate his melancholy thoughts. One evening, as he was musing there, he heard the Voice of some body uttering the sad Complaints of a vexed Spirit. The Voice caused him to draw near; and drawing near, he discovered two young Ladies sitting in a fair green Plate, bewailing their misfortunes. Sir Samuel moved with compassion, accosts them; and having demanded some questions of them, told them, He was a forsaken Lover, as he guessed them to be, being a Knight of the Order of Fond Love. Whereupon one of the Ladies discovering in his Physiognomy, that the man might easily be made an Ass; Sir, quoth she, casting herself at his feet, if you be such a one as you pretend, have compassion on a distressed Lady: I have lost my Maiden head, and prove with Child; therefore I desire you to marry me, to take off all reproach that the world may cast either on my Child, or myself. To which Sir Samuel replied: Madam, you being a Lady, and I a Knight, I should be no Knight should I not be kind to you a Lady. Then quoth she, Since near relations ought to be more familiar, let us sit down together on the grass: to which the Knight readily consented. Then she proceeding: My pretty dear, quoth she, suppose that I being thy wife, should ask thee for ten or twenty pieces to sport away at Cards, would you deny it me? No, as I hope to be saved, answered Sir Samuel: but suppose I should come and give thee a little box on the ear, and say, My Dear, let me see thy pockets, and so take out all thy money, wouldst thou be angry? No indeed law, answered Sir Samuel. With that she gave him a sweet kiss, and putting her hand into his Fob, took out all she could find; neither was she slow to secure it again in her own pockets. Then quoth she, My dear, you have rings on, which are doubtless the Euchantments which cause me and other women to love thee so: prithee let me see 'em: and so without more Compliments, she takes them off. Sir Samuel, who had more of courtesy than craft, suffered all this. The Lady now well ballasted, of a sudden starts up, cries out, Thiefs, Thiefs, and runs away as hard as she could drive: Sir Samuel ran after; but at length finding them too swift, and considering that he had left his Cloak and Hat behind, he defisted from the chase, for fear of losing all. Sir Samuel all this while thought this had been only a love-trick, and expected to hear from them next morning; but the fifth and sixth day passing without any tidings, he concluded himself puppyfted, and cursed the day of his birth.   

CHAP. XIII.  
How Sir Samuel counterfeited himself dead, to get pity from his Ebizabetha, and how he dated a Letter to her from his grave.  
SIR Samuel finding by this time, that neither his person nor his parts could move his Elizabetha, resolved to play the crafty For, and to overcome her by slight. Oh the subtle inventions of love! for you shall hear what a strang● Whim came into his Noddle. Said he to himself: Women are tender Creatures, and they have soft and tender breasts, and in th●se tender breasts lodgeth pity and compassion. They will reutle and scorn a man at this instant, but let the same person cut his finger in their company, and the next, they will give him the sugar-swéetest words of pity that a Woman can give to a Man. Let a Man fain himself sick for love of them, and their hearts will melt like Ice before the Fire: If then they will do so much for those that are sick for love, what will they not do for those that shall die for love: I will die for love of Elizabetha, and cause her affections to come like Butter, being churmed by the compassion of her soul towards me. Thus resolved, he dispatches his good Squire Jack Waterhouse, to desire her to keep her stomach, and to preserve the kéenness of her Appetite, for that he intended tomorrow to wait on her, to the Castle of Sir _____ Admiral of Thamesis above Bridge; which being full furnished with Neat's Tongues and Fiddlers, he doubted not but to content her, if she pleased to go along with him. Withal he told him, That he was the happiest Squire in the world, who was now going to visit the beams of the Sun of Beauty. He bid him take notice also how she entertained him, whether she blushed just as he had delivered his Embassy; whether she stirs & is troubled when she hears his name, whether she repeats her answer twice or thrice over, and whether she seem to order her hair though not disordered; for that he could judge by her actions and outward motions, whether it would be worth his while to spend his money on her or no. I go, said Jack Water-house, and will return quickly, therefore enlarge that little heart of yours, which is no bigger than a Hast Nut, and be of good comfort. The Message being at length delivered, Donna Elizabetha returns answer, not at all for love of Sir Samuel, but for love of the Collation, and in hope to make herself merry, that she know nothing to the contrary but that she might be ready when he came to wait upon her. With these glad Tidings, back goes Jack Water-house, to cheer up the spirits of Sir Samuel. To morrow comes, but Sir Samuel having ordered his designs, cannot appear himself; therefore he desires his Brother Sir Toby to go in his stead, and withal to entertain her at his charges; which Sir Toby out of a brotherly affection, willingly undertaken. He was also des●●●d to beg the fair Elizabetha's excuse for Sir Samuel, for that he was very ill, and kept his bed. How! ill, quoth Elizabetha, of what disease? Of Love, replied Sir Toby: whom loves he? said Elizabetha. He loves you, Madam, answered Sir Toby; you yourself are the cause of his Maladies; and die doubtless he must and will, if you continue in obstinacy. As he was conversing the Story, to confirm the truth thereof, in comes a Letter from Sir Samuel to direct to the fair Elizabetha: it was brought by Jack Waterhouse, with tears in his eyes, having left his Master laid out in his Winding S●●et for dead. The term and purport of which Letter, was as follows.  
Sir Samuel to his Elizabetha, the joy of his heart, and comfort of his hopes.  
MADAM,  
THe continual repulses and denials I have received from you, have almost made me distracted; I have torn my hair, beaten my breast, and bitten my nails for want of your affection. In a word, the anguish of my soul is such, that I am forced to die; yea, I am already dead, and laid forth in my Winding sheet, as my good Squire Jack Waterhouse can inform you. Your disdain hath been my bane: O how could you, the Mirror of Courtesy, be so obdurate to the Mirror of Courtesy? Yet I am not so dead, but that if you would come and smile upon me, you might work a Miracle, which would blaze your name abroad, and revive your poor Sir Samuel. On how can you be so relentless, and Marblehearted? Was not Dulcina loving to her Don Quixot? Was not Laurana courteous to her Parismus? And can Elizabetha be unkind to her Samuel? Come then quickly before I be cold, lest you come in vain to your  
Dead Friend. From my Winding Sheet, Septemb. 3. 1659.  
Elizabetha having read this Letter, asked Jack Water-house if his Master were mad; and why he troubled her with such impertinence; telling him withal, That she was now in good company, and could not leave them: besides, she never cared for seeing dead men: and therefore she desired Jack Water-house to bury him well; letting him know withal, that if he had left her a Legacy, she was willing to receive it. With this Message Jack Waterhouse returned; and Sir Samuel seeing his Metropolitan Design fail him, hearing the Exchange-Bell ring, rose again, and went about his business.   

CHAP. XIV.  
How Sir Samuel dismissed his Squire, and how the Squire gave a Character of his Master.  
SIR Samuel seeing all his tricks and quillets to be void & of none effect, resolves to leave his Knight errantry, and to put off his Squire Jack Waterhouse; who being thereupon destitute, returned again to his old Master Sir Channel. Now there being a great meeting of Knights and Ladies at his Castle, who had heard of the Adventures of Sir Samuel, they desired Jack Water-house, as having been his Squire, to give them an account of the man; which with little entreaties he did, in this following Character.  

Mr. S. C's Character.  
HE was born the Son of a Doctor of Physic; and if legitimately begot, without doubt, formed by the most cunning Rules of that Art, being in his own vainglorious Opinion, a— second Narcissus; one of a proper Stature, joined with an indifferent comeliness, though a deformed dull man in wit: he was bred a kind of a Mongrel Canary Merchant, under that old Fox Rowland Will— to whom he proved such an officious Zancha Pancha, that at the good old Man's death, he became a Quadrate Heir to his Estate, and is now set up Knight-Errant for himself; and to make that Calling the more laudable, he has masked himself with a superficious Devotion, being much given to the visiting of all sorts of Sects and Churches, though fare better read in the Lady's Faces he there sees, then in the Explication of the Speakers or Preachers Text he there hears: however, by this holy Hunting, he has much added to his Parts, and fitted himself for all Lady's companies (except enchanted) by attaining to an extemporary singing, though by a Sacrilegious stealing of the greatest part of the Parish-Clarks Tunes in London: he dances so well, as that you may know he has paid his entrance and quarterage to a Master of that Science: he is ingeniously witty for the inventing of Love-Plots and Designs: for his own wand'ring and Fantastic Affection, and more prudent men's sport and laughter, he has almost run through as many unfortunate and apish Adventures to obtain his fair Elizabetha, as renowned Don Quixot did for his foul Dulcina. He is one that often thinks on his death, having already fitted his Corpusculum to a Winding sheet. He is one of a single humility, and that to a Mistrifs, for whom he had rather be metamorphosed to a Puppy-Dog, then displease her. He wears goods , and those various and fashionable: yet he holds it great Prudence sometimes to borrow a Country Clowns leather Breeches to court his Mopsa in. His greatest misery is, that only Cavalier Ladies affect him, and that his Cockney humour bears as much malice to people of so good a quality, as the Devil does Amity to Roundheads, and the Good Old Cause. He is never valorous but in woman's Company; and if confidently assaulted by them (as in Tunbridge wood) yields immediately the treasure of his Pockets to them, for to buy Candles to sit by and laugh at him for a Coward. He is very unfortunate in his elder Brother being held handsomer than himself; oftentimes having fallen most desperately in love with those Mopsa's and Misoes' that were ready to strangle themselves for sweet Toby. In fine, he is his own and ridiculous Don Quixots Heir, the Lady's Whelp, every Man's Fool, the Booksellers Outlary, and the Earth's Burden.    

CHAP. XV.  
How Sir Samuel may go hang himself, if he pleases.  
THus, gentle Reader, do I put period to the Misfortunes of our unfortunate Knight: I have given thee a large account of his Life; it is truly summed up unto thee. Now being thus abused in the Country, laughed at in the City, despised and scorned both in City and Country; unpitied by Ladies, uncompassionated by Men; what remains for him to do? Nothing that I know of, but only to take a Rope, yea, a new Rope, even a new twopenny Rope, and hang himself; so shall he die revenging himself upon his Enemies, by depriding them of the Subject of their mirth and laughter.   
FINIS.