The Gentle Craft's Renown, with all their heroic Deeds, and Noble achievements.  
  


How Anthony now now played before the merry green King of Saint martin's.    

THE HONOUR OF THE Gentle Craft, A Discourse of Mirth and wit, to the Renown of those two Princes, Crispin and Crispianus and all the true Lovers thereof. The Last and best Part. Being a most Merry and Pleasant History, not altogether unprofitable, nor any way hurtful. And for the glory of the gentle Craft; Let all men say that a shoemaker's Son is a Prince born.  
By T. D.  
Newly Corrected, with several pieces added for the benefit of the Reader, which was never heretofore published or Printed. With a new merry Song in the praise of the Gentle Craft, and to be sung by them every morning on the 25th day of October.  
Haud curo invidiam.  
London, Printed by G. P. for I. Andrews at the White lion in pie-corner. 1660.   

To the MASTER and WARDENS of the worshipful company of Cordwaynors in London, all continuance of health and perfect brotherly affection:  
ONce more hath good will emboldened me to present unto your Worships my worthless labour, to manifest the good affection I bear to this Fraternity:, and finding you lent a gentle look on the first part of this History, I have been the more bold to proffer you the second; For having bound myself by promise to perform it; and you perhaps claiming promise as a debt, expecting payment, I bent all my study to keep touch; whereupon I tender this small trifle unto you, only craving at your worship's hands, a good opinion of my poor endeavours. And albeit this Phamphlet doth not minister matter worthy your grave view: yet in regard of the subject, I trust you will deign to esteem it sith so well as I could, though not so well as I would, I have sought herein to procure you delight: and although you find not all the men spoken of, which is promised in the first part, yet think it no faintness in me, but fault in good instruction: and again, for as much as these men here mentioned, were all of this City, (whose story grew longer than I supposed) and the other of the Country: I thought good so to break off, and to defer their story to another time, when I may more perfectly speak thereof. In the mean space I commend your Worships to the protection of the most Highest.  
Your Worships in all he may. T. D.   

To the Courteous Readers health.  
GEntle Reader, you that vouchsafe to cast courtevos looks into this Pamphlet: expect not here to find any matter of sound value, curiously penned with picked words, or choice phrases, but a flowing and plain discourse best fitting matters of merriment, seeing we have herein no cause to talk of Countries, or scholars. Notwithstanding, if you find yourself overcharged with melancholy, you perhaps have her a fit medicine to purge that humour by conferring in this place with Doctor Burket: or if you meet with round Robin, he may chance rhyme it away: I tell you, among shoemakers is some solace, as you shall see by Tom Drum's entertainment, and other mad merry pranks played by the Green King of St. Martin's. If that will not suffice, you may in meeting with Anthony now, now, have such a fit of mirth with his firking Fiddle, that it shall be a great cause to expel choler. And so I leave you to your own liking, whether you will enter to see this sport or no: stand back I pray, room for a Gentleman, for you cannot come in under a groat.   

The shoemaker's Glory: OR, A new merry Song in the praise of shoemakers, to be sung by them every year on the 25th. of October.  
To the Tune of the Tyrant.  

IN the praise of the  
Shoemaker's trade we'll right  
A merry song is to be sung  
on October twenty fifth night,  
For without the shoemaker  
we shall go cold of our feet  
To preserve the Gentle Cr●ss  
therefore it is meet  
Then sing boys and drink boys  
and cast care away,  
For the honour of shoemakers  
we'll keep holy day:   

To add the more luster  
unto due merriment,  
Our Ancestors came of  
a royal descent:  
Crispiana Cryspinus  
and noble Saint Hugh,  
Were all sons of Kings,  
This is known to be true:  
Then sing boys and drink boys,  
and cast care away,  
For the honer of Crispin,  
we'll keep holiday.   

Moreover ●de have you  
thus much understand,  
That the chiefest gay Ladies  
and Lords of our land,  
To the bonny shoemakers  
beholding must be:  
Take them fro● the highest  
to the lowest degree:  
Then sing boys and drink boys  
and cast care away,  
For the honour of crispin  
we'll keep holiday.   

And now for Saint Hugh  
and fair Win●frights sake,  
Ajoviall bout of it,  
we purpose to make:  
In the gulf of oblivion  
let sorrows be drown●d  
Whilst we in good fellowship  
merrily drink round:  
Then drink boys and 〈◊〉 boys  
and cast care away,  
For the honour of crispin  
we'll keep holiday.   

Here's a health to the Muses  
which furthers delights,  
And helps us to pass away  
long winter nights.  
With songs and with pastimes,  
as the season doth require:  
whilst we steel our noses  
and sit by the fire:  
Then sing boys and drink boys  
and cast away care  
For the honour of Crispin  
we'll keep holiday.   

The next cordial health  
to speak as I think,  
Shall be to the Brewer  
that makes us good drink:  
And to the brave Butchers  
that kills us good meat,  
That's tooth some and whole some  
for Christians to eat  
Then sing boys and drink boys  
and cast care away,  
For the honour of Crispin  
we'll keep holiday.   

Here's to the bonny weavers  
and glover's also,  
For they are our own neighbours  
and men that we know:  
And to Vulcan the Black, smith  
that bloweth the bellews,  
For he is accounted  
the King of good fellows:  
Then sing boys and drink boys  
and cast care away,  
For the honour of Crispin  
we'll keep holiday.   

Here's to the tailor,  
that never meant h●rm,  
For he makes us cl●athing  
to keep our bones warm,  
And a health to the ●anner  
that dresses our Lea her,  
For they 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 that  
must hold 〈◊〉 together.  
Then sing boys and drink boys  
and cast care away.  
For the honour of Crispin  
we'll keep holiday.   

And now to conclude all  
and finish my song,  
Let's drink up our drink  
and do nobody wrong:  
'tis late in the night sits  
therefore let us pay  
Our reckonng, and then we'll  
be jogging away:  
Another time when we do  
meet here again,  
we'll make a merry bo●t  
for an hour or twain.   
L. P.   

CHAP. I. Containing the History of RICHARD CASTELER: and the first of his love.  
THE lovely Maidens of the City of Westminster, noting what a good husband Richard Casteler was, and seeing how diligently he followed his business, judged in the end he would prove a rich man: for which many did bear unto him very good affection, and few there were that wished not themselves to be his Wife: insomuch that he having the custom of all the pretty Wenches in the City, by that means knew the length of every maid's foot so well, that he above all other best pleased them: on Sundays when he came into the Church, the Maids eyes were so firmly fixed on him, that he could neither look forward, backward, nor on any side, but that he should be sure to have a wink of one, a smile of another, the third would give him a nod: and to be brief, they would all cast on him such gracious looks, that it was easy to guess by their outward countenance, their inward affections.  
As he stood a 〈◊〉 at his cutting-board, he should be sure to have twenty curtsies made him in an hour, by Maidens that passed up and down: some would bestow on him dainty sweet nosegays of the fairest flowers they could find, and othersome would bring handkerchers of cambric, and divers such like favours; well bewailing their friendship towards him.  
But among many that secretly affected him, I will only tell of twain, because above all the rest, their merriments do only remain in memory, the one of them was called Margaret of the spread Eagle, but more commonly known by the name of long Meg of Westminster: The other was a proper neat wench named Gillian of the George, both of them as wily as they were witty, and among all the Maids in Westminster were reputed to be the best servants: having therefore good wages, they maintained themselves gallantly, and therewithal so honestly, that no man could quip them with had living, though afterward it fell out otherwise, as in this History you shall hear.  
Margaret was a Maiden born in Lancashire, in height and proportion of body, passing the ordinary state of Women, but therewithal very comely, & of amiable countenance, her strength was agreeable to her stature, and her courage as great as them both: she was of quick capacity, and pleasant disposition, of a liberal heart, and such a one as would be suddenly angry, and soon pleased, being ready to revenge her wrongs by weapons then by words: and therein did she differ from the nature of women, because she could not abide much babbling. And albeit she manifested her good will by divers means, yet did Richard little regard it, having his mind nothing bent unto marriage, by means whereof Margaret grew into such sad conceits as changed her cherry cheeks into a green wan countenance, insomuch that every one wondered to see her pensiveness.  
Nay said Gillian, if that be all, I am at a good point, for though my maiden head be somewhat burdensome to bear, yet I had rather keep it, then bestow it on a bad Husband, but though I say it, although I be but a poor wench, I have choice of husbands, enough and such as I am assured in my conscience, would both love me well, and keep me gallantly. Wherefore then do you not marry qd. Margaret? in my opinion it is the most pleasingest life that may be: when a woman shall have her Husband come and say to her in this sort: How now Wife? how dost sweetheart? what wilt thou have? Wilt thou have a cup of White-wine, or Sack, and if there be one good bit better than another, she shall be sure to have it. At last having well refreshed themselves, she puts her silver whistle to her mouth, and calls her maid to clear the board: then going to the fire he sets her on his knee, stroking her cheek, checks her under the chin, fetching many kisses at her ruby lips, and so soon as he hears the bell ring eight a clock he calls her to go to bed with him. But when they are once close between a pair of shéets, O Gillian then, then: why what of that qd. she? Nay nothing says Margaret, but they sleep soundly all night. Truly qd. Gillian there be many wives, but few that meet with such kind Husbands: But seeing you ask me why I marry not, in troth Meg I would tell thee, if I had time to stay, and therefore farewell good Meg, when I see thee again, thou shalt know more of my mind.  
Nay Gillian hear you qd. she, go but a little way with me, and I will go home with you, for I have nothing to buy but a a score of Quinces, and a couple of pomegranates: Gillian was contented to stay a while, and as soon as Margaret had made her market, they went homeward, where by the way Gillian entered into this communication.  
You did even now demand a question of me, and very desirous you were to know why I did not marry when I was so well preferred; Trust me Margaret I take you to be my friend, which makes me the more willing to unfold my fancy; And truth it is that I have forsaken good matches, for I might have had Master Cornelius of the Guard if I would, who as you know is wealthy, yet there was one thing made me to refuse his kind proffer: what was that qd. Margaret, I pray thee tell? Quoth she, he loved me not so well, but I loved another ten times better and therefore it is not good for hands to join where hearts agree not. No Meg no, there is a youth in our street that nearer touches my heart, and better pleases my mind: for it is an old Proverb, two may keep counsel if one be away, Nay then quoth Meg. if you dare not trust me, tell me no further notwithstanding I have had credit in as great a matter as yeurs, for many a man hath 〈◊〉 his life in my hands, and found no hurt thereby, and as many 〈◊〉 have committed their secrets to me, as men have ventured their bodies with me. Go too Margaret, you are disposed to j●st said Gillian, but swear by thy maidenhead that thou wilt never bewray, nor prevent me in my love, and I will show thee all: nay fie do not so qd. Margaret, show not all for shame, left more see it then myself, for so may they blush at thy boldness: no trust me qd. Gillian, for such a one as cannot keep her maidenhead, will never keep a secret, and that made Katherine of the Crane to be such a blab: but now Meg I will proceed to the matter. What do you think by Richard of the Rose, who is up so early every morning, that he is called the wakeful cock of Wesminster.  
Oh ho qd. Meg is that the man? there is no reason I should think amiss of him that every man commends: nevertheless, he is nobody in respect of riches, nothing comparable to Cornelius. I will tell thee what qd. Gillian, that man which needeth neither to flatter with friends, nor borrow of his neighbours, hath riches sufficient: and he is most poor that hath least wit, by which arguments I am able to prove, that this Tock is as wealthy as wary, for he will sure be beholding to nobody, or to as few as may be, and it is always to be noted, that men of such minds do never prove beggars.  
Margaret hearing Gillian so stoutly to take Richard's part, perceived by her vehement speeches, the great affection she bore to him, and finding that she was sick of her own disease, Margaret sought means to remove the cause of her grief: And the policy she used most herein, was to speak altogether in Richard's dispraise, and the more firmly to plant her own affectio●n, whereupon she uttered her mind in this sort.  
Well Gillian, seeing you hear so good an opinion of Richard of the Rose, I would not for a bushel of Angels seek to dissuade you: but because you request my opinion how I like the man, in rotth I will tell thee my mind without flattery: I confess that Richard is a gentle young man, courteous and kind, diligent about his business, and wary in his dealings, which argues good husbandry. Notwithstanding, I like not these over covetous fellows, of such greedy minds; Tell me I pray thee what joy should a woman have with such a churl, that would grudge at every halfpenny that is laid out: That in a whole year would not leave a farthing worth of mustard unwritten in his book. And such a one I fear will this Cock prove, for methinks he looks with a hungry nose, and howsoever you think of him. I know not, but I verily fear, though he be a Cock by name, he will never prove a Cock of the game. Again, he is but a dwarf in respect of a man, a shrimp, a wren, a hop of my thumb, such a one as a body may hide in a wrinkle of their buttocks.  
Well Meg quoth she, you are privileged to speak your pleasure, but should another thus mi●●earme him, I would tear her face: I tell thee true, I had rather have a winner than waster, a sparer than a prodigal spender: for when a man in his youth hath gotten something with pain, he may better spend it in his age with pleasure, and far better he should be thought covetous, then careless: his stature and proportion of body pleases me well enough, for it is no matter how great he is, but how good he is.  
But Margaret seeing our talk hath endured so long, that it hath brought us home, let us at our parting be mindful of our promises, to keep secret whatsoever hath been said, for little knows the young man the depth of my mind, and therefore would I keep it close, till I saw some sign of good will proceeding from him, for it becometh not maidens to be wooers, though willingly they could wish to wed where they best fancy, and so farewell sweet Margaret. adieu gentle Gillian quoth Margaret until our next meeting, when I hope I shall further understand of proceed in your love.  
When Meg had thus understood her mind, and saw how the matter went she sought all means possible to prevent her, as hereafter shall be shown.   

CHAP. II. How Margaret requested Richard to the eating of a posset at night, and how her Master's buttocks was scalded therewith.  
IT chanced that against Whitsentide, Margaret stood in need of a new pair of shoes: therefore in a morning betimes she came to Richard of the Rose to bespeak them aforehand, and the more to declare her kindness, and to win his good will, she carried with her a bottle of excellent good Muskadine, which a Yeoman of the King's wine-sellor bestowed upon her, she carried with her a dainty piece of powdered beef, and the carcase of a cold Capon, and thus began to greet him. All health to the kind cock of Westminster, that with the lark gréetes the Sun rising with a cheerful note: Tell me quoth she thou bonny Lad, wilt thou take the length of my foot, and make me a good pair of shoes against Sunday? that I will Margaret quoth he, therefore let me see thy foot: there is both my foot and leg said Meg, I am not ashamed to show either of them for I am not legged like a crave, nor footed like a fly, and therewith she did lift up her clothes to her knee, whereat Richard smiling said, a little higher Meg and show all: whereupon she suddenly replied in this sort: soft Richard not so, for I will tell thee one thing, 
Every Carter may reach to the garter,  
A shoemaker may reach to the knee,  
But he that creeps higher shall ask leave of me.   
Good reason qd. Richard, leave is light, which being obtained a man may be bold without offence, but this only is my grief. I have never a last long enough for thy foot: then I would they were all fired qd. Meg. He that would be counted a good workman will have tools to fit all persons: Fie Richard fie, thou shouldest never be unprovided, especially for women.  
Well Meg qd. he, be contented, consider you are a Woman of no ordinary making, but as in height thou overlookest all, so in the length of thy foot thou surpassest all: therefore I must have a pair of Lasts made for the nonce, and that shall be done out of hand: I tell thee Dick qd. she, as high as I am, I am no so high as Paul's, nor is my foot so long as Gravesend Farge. Notwithstanding qd. Richard, a pair of Lasts to fit thy foot will cost as much as a hundred of wooden faggots, which will not be bought for ten groats: if they cost a crown qd. Meg, let me have them; I love not to pinch for a penny, if I find my shoes good, I will not shrink for a shilling: In troth qd. Richard, frank customers are worthy of good ware, and therefore Meg doubt not, for thou shalt have as good a shoe as ever was drawn upon a woman's foot: Godamercy for that sweet Dick qd. she, and seeing thou sayst so, I will bestow this bottle of wine on thee to breakfast, and therewithal she plucked out her powdered béef and her cold Capon; Richard seeing this, with thanks to Margaret for meat, reached out a couple of joint stools, and after that they had laid a cloth therern, they down did fit, at which time many merry speeches did pass between them. And at that very time there was in the same shop, amongst a great many other men, a pleasant journeyman called round robin, being a well trust fellow, short and thick, yet very active and pleasantly conceited: for singing he was held in high reputation among all the shoemakers in Westminster. This jolly companion seeing them both so well at their breakfast, and nothing at all to respect him in the place where he sat, cast out these merry speeches unto them.  
Much good do it you Masters, and well may you fair,  
Beshroe both your hearts and if you do spare,  
The wine should be nought as I judge by the smell,  
And by the colour too I know it full well.  
Nay faith quoth Meg that's but a jest,  
I'll swear quoth Robin 'tis none none of the best.  
Taste it quoth Meg, then tell me thy mind,  
Yea marry quoth Robin now you are kind.  
With that Margaret filling a cup brim full, gave it into his hands, saying, now taste it Robin and take there the cup: Nay hang me quoth Robin if I drink it not up.  
By my maidenhead quoth Margaret, I see that thou art a good fellow: and to have thee drink it up is the thing that I crave.  
Then swear quoth Robin by the thing you have,  
For this to swear I dare be bold,  
You were a maid at three years old.  
From three to four, five, six, and seven,  
But when you grew to be eleven,  
Then you began to breed desire,  
By twelve your fancy was on fire:  
At thirteen years' desire grew quick,  
And then your maidenhead tell sick:  
But when you came unto fourteen,  
All sec●et kisses was not seen:  
But that time fifteen years was past,  
I guess your maidenhead was lost:  
And I pray God forgive me this,  
In thinking so I think amiss.  
Now by my honesty qd. Meg you do me mighty wrong to think so ill of me, though I cannot excuse myself, for women are not Angels, though they have Angels faces: for to speak the truth might I have had mine own hearts desire when time was, I would rather have chosen to lie with a man than a maid but such merry motions were out of my mind, and now I you that a maiden I will die.  
By this wine quoth Robin I dare swear you lie,  
For were I as my Master by this good light,  
You should lose your maidenhead ere twelve a clock at night,  
With hay derry derry, If it be not gone already.  
Nay qd. Maragret, your Master scorns me, he kéeps all his Gowns for Gillian of the George, a pretty wench I confess, having a proper body, but a bad leg, she hath a very good countenance, but a bad colour: why Margaret qd. Richard, hath she told you so much of her mind, that you know her disease so well? It may be she hath qd. Margaret but whether she did or no it is sufficient that I know so much: But I think qd. Margaret you are not so besotted to make any account of a Tallow-cake.  
No faith quoth Robin, a nut-brown girl,  
Is in mine eye a Diamond and a pearl,  
And she that hath her cheeks cherry red,  
Is ever best welcome to a young man's bed.  
Certainly qd. Richard, which is the best or worst I know not yet, nor do I mean hastily to prove: and as Cillian of the George, as she hath no reason to hate me, so she hath no cause to love me: well said Master, quoth Robin, 
In this sort grind you still,  
So shall we have more sacks to the mill.   
Trust me qd. Margaret, I speak not this so much to disgrace Gillian, as for the regard I have to your credit: but to make an end of Gillian and this jest altogether: let me entreat you soon at night to come to our house: and though your cheer be small your welcome shall be great: I will have as good a Posset for you as ever you did taste in your life. My Master is an old man, and he commonly goes to bed at nine, and for my Mistress, I know where she will be safe till midnight mass be ended, so that for an hour we may be as merry as Pope Jone: what say you Richard quoth she, will you come? In troth Margaret qd. he, I heartily thank you for your good will, I would willingly come, but I love not to be from home so late, 
I think so quoth Robin lest you should miss Kate.  
But take my counsel, when you are with Meg,  
Suppose you have got fine Kate by the leg.   
Robin said he, thou art so full of thy rhyme, that often thou art without reason: thru seest that Margaret hath been at cost with us to day, and it is more than good manners to charge her further: quoth Margaret, it is not such a matter, therefore sweet Richard you shall come, and forget not to bring round Robin with you, and so farewell.  
No saith quoth Robin, it shall not need,  
I am bidden already, and so God speed.  
Who had thee quoth Margaret?  
What are thy wits so unsteady?  
You did bid me quoth Robin, have you forgot already?  
Why then I prithee good Robin, said Meg, do not forget in any case: for I faith Robin, if thou bring thy Master along with thee, I will think the better of thee while I live: why then quoth he, 
And as I am no Knight,  
We will come to eat the posset soon at night.   
Now Margaret was no sooner gone, and Richard at his cutting board, and Robin set on his stool, but in comes Gillian of the George, bringing in her Apron the corner of a Venison pastry, and some lamb pie, bidding Richard good morrow, and asked him if he had broke his fast? yes verily quoth Richard I thank long Meg, we have been at it this morning, and had you come a little sooner, you had found her here, for she went away but even now.  
'Tis a lusty wench quoth Robin, gentle, and kind,  
And in truth she bears a beautiful mind.  
Gillian hearing Robin to enter into Megs commendations, began to grow jealous of the matter: out upon her foul stammel quoth she, he that takes her to his wife, shall be sure of flesh enough, let him get bread were he can. Notwithstanding this, I will tell you Richard, the less she come into your company, the more it will be for your credit. And howsoever she deserves it, God knows, I cannot accuse her, but I promise you, she hath but a hard report amongst many. But let her rest as she is: see here what I have brought you, and with that she gave him the Venison and the rest, and drawing her purse, she would needs sound for a quart of wine, Richard sought to persuade her to the contrary, but she would not: what man qd. she, I am able to give you a quart of wine: That's spoke like an angel quoth Robin; 
And this I do think,  
If you be able to give it, we be able to drink.   
Hereupon the Wine was fetched, and so they sat them down and fed heartily on the Venison pastry, and Gillian's eye fed as greedily on Richard's favour: and as soon as the wine was come, she plucked out of her pocket a good piece of Sugar, and filling a glass of wine tempered well therewith, she drank to him, saying, here Richard, to all that love you and me, but especially to him whom I love best: qd. Richard, I will pledge him whosoever it be.  
So will I quoth Robin without any fail,  
Were it the best hippocras, I would turn it over my nail.  
Then Gillian looking round about, spoke to this effect: verily Richard here is a pretty house, and every thing handsome by Saint Anne, I see nothing wanting but a good Wife to keep all things in his due kind: whereunto Kobin made this answer.  
Now speak thy conscience, and tell me good Gill,  
Wouldst not thou be that good wife, with a good will?  
Who I? alas quoth she, your Master scorns me, he looks for a girl with gold, one that might bring him the red ruddocks chinking in a bag: and yet he were better to have one with less money and more housewifery: for my one part, I would not come to learn of never a Woman in Westminster, how to deal in such affairs: I think no less quoth Richard, and therefore I pray God send you a good Husband, and one well deserving so good a wife: with that Gillian fetched a great sigh, saying, Amen I pray God. Why then marry me qd. Robin, and thereby prevent the perish of bad thoughts, hark in thy ear Robin quoth she, I would thy Master would say so much and then he should soon know my mind.  
Ha, ha, quoth Robin, I faith you drab,  
And would you have him to stamp the crab.  
Why what is the matter quoth Richard? nay nothing (quoth Gillian) but that I was bold to jest with your man, and I hope you will not be offended if he and I talk a word or two. There is no reason I should, quoth Richard, & therefore confer at your pleasure, and the whilst I will be busy with the lamb-pie, than Gillian whispering Robin in the ear, spoke in this sort unto him. I perceive you can spy day at a little hole. Robin I am of opinion that affection groweth as strong in a woman as a man, they to have equal privilege, as well as men to speak their minds: In truth Robin to be plain, I love thy Master with all my heart, and if thou wouldst be so much my friend to break the matter unto him, and therewithal to procure his good liking unto me, I would bestow on thee as good a suit of apparel, as ever thou wast Master of in thy life, whereunto Robin answered, saying.  
Here's my hand Gillian, at thy request,  
I'll make a vow I'll do my best,  
But for my apparel grant me this,  
In earnest first to give me a kiss.  
There it is, qd. Gillian and I do protest, that upon that blessed day, when he gives his happy consent to be my husband, at the delivery of thy apparel, I will make that one kiss twenty, and they came to the table, and set them down again. Richard marking all, said nothing, but at her approach to the board, took the glass and drunk to her, giving her thanks for her cost and kindness: she gladly accepting the same, bending her body instead of curtsy, took it at his hands, and drunk unto Robin, and so taking her leave of them both shh● ran speedily home.  
So soon as she was gone, Robin told his Master it was the pleasentest life in the world to live a bachelor, for he would never want good cheer and company: I marry quoth Richard, but what I get one way I spend another: you see quoth he here is a foreneoon spent to no purpose. I tell thee Robin, I account their inticoments' dangerous, therefore a man must not be won with fair words as a fish with a bait.  
Well quoth Robin, all is one to me, whether you love or loathe them, but let not the posset be forgot soon at night.  
Quoth Richard, if I rest in the mind I am in now, I mean not to be there at all: then you will lose her love quoth Robin, that, said his Master is that I desire, for the love of a shrew is like the shadow of a cloud that soon consumeth, and such love is better lost then found. Quoth Robin, this once follow my mind, 
Though by her love you set but light,  
Let us eat the posser soon at night,  
And afterward I will so deal,  
If you will not my ●ricks reveal:  
That they shall trouble you no more,  
Though by your love they set great store,  
For one another they shall beguile,  
Yet think themselves well pleased the while.   
Verily quoth his Master, if thou wilt do so. I will be Megs guest this once, and think myself happy to be so rid of them: Hereupon Richard having his Shop windows shut in and his doors made fast: He with his man Robin, took their direct way to the Spread Eagle, where they no sooner knocked at the door, but Margaret came down and let them in, and bid them heartily welcome. Now Richard quoth she, you are a man of your word, I pray you come near for to have you in my Office is my desire: quoth Robin was your Office never a fire? you see the kitchen is large and the chimney wide: quoth Robin, how many Rooks hath your kitchen tried? I know not quoth Meg, quoth Robin, I think even so. Go to quoth Meg, but I'll let it pass; Then taking Richard by the hand, she bade him sit down, saying, good Richard you are welcome. I have never a friend in the World that can be better welcome: 
I thank you good Margaret quoth he. ay, thank her still. qd. Robin in every degree,  
For you that have all the welcome, shall give thanks for me.   
Why Robin qd. Meg, be not offended, thou art welcome to me.  
I faith quoth he, you bid me welcome when you have nothing else to do.  
Herewithal Margaret very neatly laid the cloth, set a dainty minst pie on the board, and other good cheer and sent the other maid of the house for a pottle of wine, and so fell to their meat merrily, when they had eaten and drunk, Margaret stepped to reach the posset, but while she had it in her hand, she heard one coming down the stairs: God's precious quoth she my Master comes, where shall we hide the posset, if he see it, we shall have more anger than ten possets are worth, with that she whipped it into the seat of the p●ivy house, thinking it there safest out of sight, her Master being an old crabbed fellow, would often steal down to see what his Maids were a deing, the old man being raised by a looseness of his body, came to pay tribute to Aiax, where he clapped his buttocks into the posset, wherewith being scalded, he cried out, saying, help maids, or I am spoiled for ever: for some devil hath thrown scalding lead upon my buttocks, and in this case he stamped up & down the yard holding his hips in his hands: Meg. that knew better what the matter was then her Master, ran into the house of Office with a spit, as if she purposed to broach the devil, casting the posset into the puddle, said, how now Master what is the matter, are you hurt, hurt quoth her Master, I tell thee Meg, never was man thus hurt, and yet I am ashamed to show my hurt: bring me a candle quoth Meg, I tell you Master, it is better all should be shown, then all spoiled: and casting up his shirt, spied both his great cheeks full of blisters, whereupon she was fain to make a medicine with salad oil and houseléek to assuage this unséen fire: and by this means, Richard with his man was fain to slip away, which was to Robin no small grief, and yet laughing to think how oddly this jest fell out.  
I am quoth Robin, forty years old and more,  
Yet did I never know posset so tasted before:  
I think his eyes in his elbows he had,  
To thrust his a●se in the posset, or else he was mad.  
His Master answering, said, Robin I will never go there to eat posset more. Margaret coming thither told them she was sorry they were so suddenly broke from their banquet; but Y faith Richard (quoth she) another time shall make amends for all.   

CHAP. 3. How Richard the Cock of Westminster was married to a Dutch Maiden, for which cause long Meg, and Gillian of the George wore willow Garlands.  
RIchard Castler living a long time a bachelor in Westminster: at last linked his love to a Dutch Maiden dwelling in London. To this pretty soul went Richard secretly a wooing, who for half a year set as light by him, as he did by the Maidens of Westminster, and the more he was denied, the more he sought her good will; But while he was thus busied to make himself blessed by matching with a Maiden in London: round Robin cast his wits to set the Maidens of Westminster against him, which he effected in this sort.  
Margaret and Gillian coming often by the Shop, cast many a sheep's eye to spy out their beloved friend, and finding him not at his Shop, they judged that it was not idleness that drew him away, but rather that he was gone a wooing to some pretty Wench, whereupon Margaret entered into these speeches with round Robin.  
I wonder quoth Meg, where your Master lays his knife aboard now a days; tell me Robin said she, where the Cock doth crow now? Not so quoth Robin, my Master doth not that allow, 
I must not show his secrets to one or other,  
Therefore you shall not know it though you were my mother  
Yet thus much by thy speech I plainly do see,  
Thou thinkst not so well of him as he thinks on thee.   
Margaret hearing round Robin rhyme to so good a purpose; asked if he knew his Master's mind so much? therefore sweet Robin let me know whereupon thou speakest. Hereupon Robin said, that his Master was very well affected towards her, and that if it were not for Gillian of the George, he would long ere this have uttered his mind to you: but quoth Robin, he is se haunted by that female spirit, that he can rest in no place for her.  
These Words uttered by Robin, made Margaret's heart leap in her belly: wherefore taking gently her leave of him, she thus began to meditate on the matter: Now do I well see that the tongue of a wise man is in his heart, but the heart of a fool is in his tongue: and Richard quoth she hast thou born me such secret good will and would never let me know it.  
Thus in a jolly humour Margaret jotted home, flatterring herself in her happy fortune, in which delight we will leave her and make some rehearseall of Gillian's joy: who coming in the like manner to Robin, asking for his Master, was certified by him, that for her sake only he lived in such sorrow, that he could not stay in his shop, and therefore was fain to drive away melancholy by marching abroad. O Gillian quoth he, had it not been for two causes, he would long ere this have uttered his mind to thee: quoth Gillian, is it true Robin that thou dost tell me? doubt not of that, do you think I will tell you a lie? Nay good Robin be not angry, blame me not to ask a question: ask what you will quoth Robin, and I may choose whether I will answer you or no: now I have opened my Master secret, you were best to blab it through all the town. Nay good Robin that is not my mind quoth Gillian, but I beseech thee let me know those two causes that kéeps thy Master from uttering his mind. Nay soft, there lay a staw for fear of stumbling quoth Robin, let it suffice you that you know what you know. Nay good sweet Robin I pray thee make it not dainty now to tell me all, seeing you have begun; the day may come that I may requite thy courtesy: say you so Gillian? now by good Crispianus, were it not that I am in hope you would prove kind to my Master, and be a good Mistress to us, I would not utter one word more. Well Robin, if ever I come to command thy Master's house, and keep the keys, thou shalt see I will keep no ●iggards table, but you shall have meat and drink in a plentiful manner.  
Robin hearing this, told her this tale, that his Master loved her entirely, and would long since have uttered his mind, but for two reasons: the first was that he could never find a fit opportunity, because of long Meg, whose love to him was more than he could wish: for if he do but speak, and look upon any, she presently pouts and lours, which is such a grief to my Master, that he is fain to keep silent. The second reason is, that he is not wealthy as he could wish himself, you would disdain his suit: Who I quoth Gillian? I tell thee Robin I do more respect his kindness then his goods. Why then good Gillian quoth Robin, harken hither three days hence, and you shall hear more. I warrant thee Robin quoth she, and so away she went, being as glad of this tidings as her Master was of a good Term. Now when his Master came home, Robin asked him how he sped in his suit, even as Cooks do in baking their pies, sometimes well, sometimes ill. London Wenches are wily Lasses; Now she is in one mind, by and by in another, and to be brief never steadfast in any thing.  
Tush Master quoth Robin, stoop not to a Thistle, take this comfort, what one will not, another will: I tell you Master, these nice Minions are so full of curiosit, that they are clean without courtesy: Yet well fare the gallant girls of Westminster, that will do more for a man than he will do for himself. What is that said his Master? marry quoth he to give two kisses before he calls for one. That indeed is extraordinary kindness quoth Richard, but their loves is like braided Wares, that is often seen, but hardly sold.  
Well Master quoth Robin, you know your two old friends Meg and Gillian: I, what of them quoth Richard? I have made them both believe that you love them out of all cry. And I beshrew thy heart for that qd. Richard, for therein thou dost both deceive them, and discredit me: I assure thee I like not such jesting.  
Now gip quoth Robin, are you grieved at my talk?  
And if you be angry, I pray go walk:  
Thus do you never esteem of a man,  
Let him do for you the best that he can.  
Richard hearing his man so hot, pacified him with many cold and gentle speeches, wishing if he had begun any jest, that he should finish it with such discretion, that no reproach might grow upon him, whereupon Robin proceeded in this sort.  
Upon a time Margaret according to her wonted manner came thither, whom Robin perswaded that his Master was go●e into Tutle fields, and he desired you that you would meet him there: but take heed that Gillian of the George spy you, and so follow you to the place where my Master attends your coming. Tush quoth Margaret, let me alone for that, if she follow me she were better no, for I will lead her a dance shall maker her weary before she hath done, and so farewell Robin: for into Tutle fields I will trudge as fast as I may. But take heed you lose not your maidenhead by the way.  
Robin presently runs unto Gillian, saying what cheer Gillian, how does all the pretty Wenches here? I faith Robin qd. they, we rub out with the rest: but what is the news with thee? 
Small news quoth Robin, yet somewhat I have to say,  
But hear you Gillian a word by the way.   
And with that (rounding her in the ear) he told her that incontinent it was his Masters will she should meet him in Tutle filds: charging her if she met Margaret she should in no case go forward, for my Master cannot abide that great rounsefull should come in his company.  
For that let me alone quoth Gillian, but trust me Robin, it could not have come in a worse time this twelve month: why then let it rest till another time quoth Robin: nay quoth she, I will go to him, sith so kindly he sent for me; into Tutle fields she goes, where at last she spied Margaret with a hand-basket in her hand, who suddenly had got a sight of her, she made a show as if she gathered herbs in the field: quoth Gillian I will gather herbs as fast as you, though I have as little need of them as yourself.  
In the mean time Robin got him home, and heartily laughing at them, saying O what a World is this, when maids runs a-madding for husbands? now may I swear what I have seen.  
Two maids run as fast as they can,  
A mile in the field to meet with a man.  
How can men say maids are proud, or coy, when we find them so gentle, that they will run like a Falcon to the Lure: but alas they are deceived in finding Richard in Turtle fields: but hereby I know their minds against another time.  
Thus did Robin deride them when he found their fondness to be such: but to leave him to his humour, and return to the maids that were picking herbs in the fields: when Meg saw that Gillian would not away, she came to her, and asked her what she did there? nay what do you here quoth she? quoth Meg I come to gather thrift, but I can find nothing but thistles: quoth Gillian but I mean to get hearts-ease ere I go: Nay quoth Meg I shall find thrift, as soon as you shall find heart-ease, but I think I shall find none to day, then get you home quoth Gillian, would you be rid of my company qd. Meg? for that word I mean not to be gone yet: I faith Gillian I smell a Rat. Then quoth she you have as good a nose as our grey Cat: but what Rat do you smell tell me? I doubt, if there be any Rat in the field, you would fain catch him in your trap, but I faith Meg you shall be deceived: then qd. Meg you would have the Rat taste no cheese but your own; then said Gillian, wheresoever he run, I would have him creep into no corner of yours: you speak mystical quoth Meg: if thou art a good Wench let's go home together: quoth Gillian, as I came not with you, so I mean not to go with you.  
Quoth Meg before God I will stay as long as thee for thy life: quoth Gillian thou shalt stay while midnight then: and in this humour sometimes they sat down, sometimes they stalked round the fields, till it was night, and at last the Watch met with them, who contrary to Gillian's mind, brought them home together. But their Mistresses that had so long missed them, were very angry with their long absence, yet were glad they were come again; and asking where they had been so long, the Watchmen answered, that the one had been to seek hearts-ease, and the other to gather thrif. Nay quoth their Mistresses if that be the reason, we cannot much blame them, seeing we have sought it this seven years and could not find it: and in this sort the jest ended.  
Within a while after, Richard through his long ●●oing, had ●otten the good will of his sweetheart, and making all things ready for his marriage, presently Magaret and Gillian had notice or it, who coming unto Richard, saying he was the most false and unconstant man in the World. Have I qd. Meg, set my whole mind on thee to be thus served? Nay quoth Gillian, have I endured such sorrow for thy sake, and be thus unkindly cast off? Now I wish from my heart quoth Meg, that if ever thou marriest any out me, that she may make thee as errant a Cuckold as Jack Coomes. So, you are very charitable quoth Richard, to with me no worse than you mean to make your Husband: but when did I request thee to come into Tuttle fields? What have you so weak a memory quoth she? ask your man Robin whether it were so or no: Well quoth Robin what then? wherefore did you not speak with him at that present?  
You know it comes in an hour, comes not in seven year,  
Had you met him at that ●●ant you had married him clear.  
A vengeance take her quoth Meg, I could not meet him for Gillian. I could not meet him for Meg, a morin take her quoth Gillian. Richard hearing them at words, made this reply. It is a strange thing that you will blame me of discourtesy: had you come at the appointed time, it is likely I had married one of you, seeing my mind was adieted to one as well as the other:: Why may it not be yet quoth they? No said he, you speak too late: hearing this answer they were struck with grief, and so with watery eyes went home, to whom Robin carried two Willow Garlands, saying; You pretty souls that forsaken be, 
Take here the branhces of the willow tree.  
And sing love's farewell jointly with me.   
Meg being merrily inclined, shook off sorrow in this sort, and taking the Willow Garland, said, Wherefore is grief good? can it recall folly past? no● and therefore a fig for the Cock of Westminster; Now God bless me, I swear by Venus, that in the mind I am in, I would not have him, if he had as much money as would lie in Westminster Hall. And therefore Robin this Willow Garland is to me right welcome: and now I will go with thee to Gillian, but when they came to Gillian, Robin stayed for her at the stair foot: they found her sick in her bed, to whom Margaret spoke in this manner. What how now Gillian sick a bed? now fie for shame, let not a man thiumph so much over thee, as to say thou gav'st the Crow a pudding. Ah no quoth Gillian, death is sweet to them that live in sorrow, but to none should be better welcome then to me. What now quoth Margaret, whose Mare is dead? Art thou a young Wench, fair and comely, and doth thou despair of life: and all for love? O quoth Gillian, what are all the men in the world to me now I have lost my Richard. Rise quoth Meg, come let's go drink a quart of Sack to wash down sorrow. O quoth G●lli●n I cannot rise if I might have all the World. What if your Father or Mother, or some of the King's Gentlemen entreat you, would you not rise, never prate, I would not rise to the best Lord in the Land, nor to no man else: nay qd. Meg I am sure you would: If I do, say I am an errant quean. Nay qd. Meg, seeing you say so, I have done, and therefore I'll keep my breath to cool my pottage.  
A matter said Gillian? what matter is it sweet Meg, tell me? no quoth she, 'tis but but a trifle, your sweet heart Richard hath sent his man Robin for you, and he tells me he hath a token to deliver to you: quoth Gill, where is he, why comes he not up? quoth Meg, he counts it more than manners to press into a maiden's chamber. O stay a little good Meg and I will go along with you, and with that, on she slipped her petticoat, and would not stay the puptting on her stockings or her shoes: why how now Gillian quoth Meg, have you fogot yourself? remember you are sick a bed: tush 'tis no matter for that said Gillian, grief hath too tongues, to say, and unsay: and so she ran down the stairs after Margaret, who got Robin to go before to the three Tuns, who when Gillian came, she asked him how his Master did, and what his errand was to her.  
Soft, first let us drink quoth Robin, and then let us talk,  
That we cannot pay for, shall be set up in chalk.  
You speak merrily quoth Margaret, but I wish I could see the Wine come once, that I may drink a hearty draught: for sorrow they say is dry, and I find it to be true, Then drink hard quoth Robin and bid sorrow adieu.  
Thus when they had whipped off two or three quarts, Gillian began to grow as pleasant as the best, and would know of Robin what he had to say to her: nothing qd. he but to do my Master's commendation, & to deliver you his token. This token qd. she, what a Willow Garland? is this the best reward he can give me for my good will: had he nobody to flout but me. O intolerable injury quoth Gillian, did I take pains to rise out of my warm bed for this? Well Margaret if you will agrèe, we will wear these disdainful branches on his marriage day to his great disgrace: content quoth Meg, look what thou wilt allow, I will not dislike, so paying the shot, away they went.  
At length when the marriage day was come, and that the bride in the midst of her friends was set down to dinner, Margaret and Gillian attired in red petticoats, with white linen sléedes, and fine Holland Aprons▪ having their Willow Garlands on their heads, entered the Hall singing this song:  

WHen fancy first framed our liking in love,  
sing all of green willow,  
And faithful affection such motion did move,  
for willow, willow, willow.  
Where pleasure was plenty we chanced to be, sing all of, &c.  
There were we enthraled of our liberty,  
and forced to carry the willow Garlard.   

This young man we liked and loved full dear, sing all of, &c.  
And in our hearts-closet we kept him full near, sing willow, etc,  
He was our heart's pleasure and all our delight, sing all of, &c.  
We judged him the sweetest of all men in sight,  
who gives us unkindly the willow Garland.   

No cost we accounted too much for his sake, sing all of, &c.  
Fine bands & fine handkerchers for him we did make, sing, &c.  
And yet for our good will, our travel and pain, sing all of, &c.  
We have gotten nothing but scorn and disdain:  
as plainly is proved by this willow garland.   

Then pardon our boldness, thou gentle fair bride, sing all of etc  
We speak by experience of that we have tried, sing willow, &c.  
Our overmuch courtesy bread all our woe, sing all of green, &c.  
But never hereafter we mean so to do,  
for this only brought us the willow Garland.   
Their song being thus ended, the Bride said she was heartily sorry for their hard fortunes, and blaming the Bridegroom for his unkindness: Nay do not so quoth Meg, for you shall find him kind enough at night: but seeing he hath disappointed me in this sort, if shall go hard but I will lose my maidenhead as soon as you shall, and you shall make good hast then. Well Gillian quoth she, let us go, never will I be tied in affection to one man again while I do live? Well, I say little, but hencefor: ward, hang me if I refuse reason when I am reasonably entreated. Thus Margaret in a melancholy humour went her ways, and in short time after she forsook Westminster, and attended on the King's army at Bullen, and while the siege lasted, became a laundress to the Camp and in the end she left her life in Islington, being very penitent for all her former offences. Gillian in the end was married, and became a very good housekéeper, living in honest name and fame till her dying day.   

CHAP. 4. How round Robin and his fellows sung before the King.  
THe King's Majesty having won the strong town of Bullen, victoriously he returned into England, and according to his accustomed manner lying at hi● Palace of White-Hall: divers of his Nobility passing up and down Westminster, did many times hear the journey men shoemakers singing: whose pleasant songs was so pleasing in the ears of the hearers, that it caused them to stay about the door to harken thereunto: Robin above the rest, declared such cunning in his song, that he ever obtained the chiefest praise; Now you shall understand, that by their often singing in the Shop, the journeymen of that house were noted above all men in Westminster, insomuch that at the last, the King had knowledge thereof, who caused them to be sent for to the Court. Whereupon round Robin and his four fellows made themselves ready, and their Master being of a good mind, against the day they should go before the King, he suited them all at his own cost, in doublets & hose of crimson taffeta, black velvet Caps on their heads, and white Feathers, on their legs they had fine yellow stockings. Pumps and Pantofles on their feet: by their sides each of them worse a fair Sword: and in this sort being brought before his Majesty, upon their knees they craved pardon for presuming to come into his royal presence: The King seeing them to be such proper men, and attired in Gentlemen-like manner, had them stand up: Why my Lords quoth he, be these the merry minded shoemakers you spoke of? they are dread sovereign, said they: certainly, said the King, you are welcome every one, but who among you is round Robin?  
My Liege quoth Robin, that man am I,  
Which in your grace's service will live and die:  
And these be my fellows every one,  
Ready to wait your royal Grace upon.  
How now Robin (said the King) what, canst thou rhyme?  
A little my Liege quoth he, as I see place and time.  
His Grace laughing heartily, told him that he heard say he could sing well.  
Trust me quoth Robin, at your grace's request,  
You shall well perceive we will do one best.  
Hereupon the King sat him down where many great Lords and Ladies attended his highness. And being in the Christmas time, Robin, with his fellows had liberty to declare their cunning before our King, but his Princely presence did so amate them, that they were quite dashed out of countenance, which his Grace perceiving, gave them many gracious words, of encouragement, whereupon they began in this sort, singing a song of the winning of Bullen.  

The Song of the winning of Bullen sung before the King by round Robin and his fellows.  

IN the month of October, our King would go to Dover,  
By leave of Father and the Son,  
A great army of men, well appointed there was then,  
before our Noble King to come.   

The valiant Lord admiral, he was Captain general  
Of all the royal Navy sent by Sea:  
The sight was wothy to behold, to see the ships of shining gold,  
and flags and streamers sailing all the way.   

At Bullen then arriving, with wisdom well contriving:  
the armed men were set in battle ray,  
And Bullen was besieged round, our men with drum & trumpets sound,  
before it Marched courageous that day.   

Then mark how all things chanced, before them was advanced,  
the royal Standard in the bloody field:  
The Frenchmen standing on the walls, to them our English Heralds calls,  
wishing in time their City for to yield.   

Our King hath sent to prove you, because that he doth love you  
he proffered mercy if you will embrace:  
If you deny his kind request, and in your obstinacy rest,  
behold you bring yourselves in woeful case.   

Quoth they we do deny you, and flatly we defy you,  
fair Bullen is a famous Maiden Town,  
For all the deeds that hath been done by conquest never was she won,  
she is a Lady of most high renown.   

When they so unadvised, his proffer had despised,  
our Ordinance began to shoot amain:  
Continuing eight hours & more, for why our King most deeply swore,  
her Maidenhead that he would obtain.   

When thus his Grace had spoken, he sent her many a token,  
Fiery balls, and burning brazen rings,  
Fair broad arrows sharp and swift,  
Which came among them with a drift,  
Well garnished with the grey goose wings.  
This maiden town that lately, did show herself so stately,  
In seeking favour many tears she shed:  
Upon her knees than fell she down, saying O King of high renown  
Save now my life, and take my maidenhead.  
Zo, thus herself she ventured, & straight her streets were entered,  
And to the market place she marched free:  
Never a Frenchman durst withstand to hold a weapon in his hand  
For all the gold that ever he did see.    
Their Song being ended, our King cast them a purse with fifty fair Angels for a reward, and so they had liberty to depart: and when they came home, they told their Master all their merriment before the King, and what his Grace had bestowed on them, and pouring the Gold upon the table, and their Master told it for them and every man's share was five pound a piece. Which when Robin saw he swore he would bestow a supper upon his Master and Mistress, though it cost him two angels: his fellows hearing him so free, said they would join with him and invite all the shoemakers in Westminster to bear them company.  
Content quoth Robin with all my heart,  
And twenty shillings will I spend for my part.  
And as I am a true man, and sung before our King  
As much shall each of you spend before our parting.  
So shall we have music and gallant cheer.  
Sack and sugar, Claret wine strong Ale and beer.  
This being concluded, they met at the sign of the Bell, and they were very merry, and Robin began to blame his Master that in three years' time had not got his Mistress with child: hold quoth he, I have but jested all this while, but when I fall on in earnest, I will make her belly rise like a Tun of new Ale, thou knowest I am the Cock of Westminster. I quoth Robin you had that name,  
More for your rising, than your goodness in Venus' game. But suddenly after this his Master died, being a good friend to decayed house keepers, a worthy example for all men to follow.   

CHAP. 5. The pleasant Story of Peachy the famous shoemaker of Fleetstreet in London.  
Much about this time, there lived in London a rich shoemaker, and a gallant housekeeper, who being a brave person, was therefore of most men called lusty Peachy: he kept all the year long forty sad men and Prentices at work, and every one be clothed in tawny Coats, which he gave as his Livery, with black Caps and yellow Feathers: and every Sunday and holy day, when this Gentlemanlike Citizen want to Church in his black Gown guarded with Velvet, it was his order to have all his men in their Liveries to wait upon him, with every man his Sword and Buckler, ready at any time, it need required.  
It came to pass upon St. George's day, that this Eolly shoemaker (being servant to the Duke of Suffolk) went to the Court with all his men after him to give attendance upon his noble Master: which some young Gentlemen more wanthen wise, pick a quarrel, thereby to try his Manhood: qd. they did you ever see a shoemaker, a cobbling Companion brave it so as this fellow doth? see what a train of hardy Squires and squaring lads they be, they look as if they would fight with Gargantus, and yet I durst lay my life they dare scant kill a hedgehog: I warrant you there is never a Knight that goes with such a train: it were good sport to try what they could do? My masts I tell you this fellow is a hardy Coin, he is currant mettle i'faith and whensoever you try him, you'll find him not fly a soot: With that, comes by lusty Tom Stuteley and Strangwidge two gallant Sea Captains who were attired in Crimson Velvet, in watched silk, thrump hats, and white frathers, having Pages attending with their weapons, asked what was the matter? marry Captain quoth they, we are all beholding to ponder lusty Gallant with so many waiting on him with Tawny Coats: 'sblood what to be quoth Stuteley? be seems to be a gallant man said Stangwide and were it not I see him in the Duke of Suffolk's livery▪ I should take him to be some Lord: Nay quoth Stuteley he is some Knight of good living. Gentlemen quoth they, you are deceived in your judgements, for he is a good shoemaker living in Fleetstreet. What? but a shoemaker quoth Stuteley? O that word makes me scratch my elbow: Can a shoemaker come with more serving men at his heels then Captain Stuteley; see how it makes my blood rise: see how he squares it out? see, what a company of handsome fellows follow him, ●is twenty pound to a penny but they are better men their Master: not so quoth the Gentlemen for their birth and bringing up are much at one for they are all shoemakers: now by this iron age quoth Stuteley, were it not that he is attendant on the Duke, I would have him by the ears presently. I wi● say a hundred pound that Captain Strangwidge and I beat him and his Courty men. The Gentlemen being ready to set this match forward, commended the Captains high courage: Well Gentlemen said they you say he dwells in Fleetstreet, and that he is a shoemaker, never swear we with become his Customers: Nay quoth Stuteley we will bespeak Boots on him and so we will raise our quarrel▪ for if they come not on East, and sit on our legs neatly, we'll beat them about their ears, and if they take it in dudgeon and follow us for revenge, if we make not them leap before us like monkeys, and run like shéep-biters, we'll lase our credits for ever.  
But what if you chance to kill one of them? what care we? we are bound to Sea on a gallant voyage, where they cannot go forward without us, and when they are seeking of us in Fleetstreet, we shall be seeking out the Coast of Florida.  
Within a while after Stuteley and Strangwidge having thus determined, came into Fleestreet and inquired for P●●chies shop, and when they came to the house they inquired for the good man, the foreman of the shop demanded what their wills was, why knabs quoth they let us speak with your Master; Gentlemen quoth he, if you lack any commodity in our shop, I can fit you: why Jack sauce quoth Stuteley, know you to whom you speak?  
The fellow being displeased at his words, roundly answers, ask you to whom I speak, quoth he? yes goodman flateap said Strangwidge, we ask to whom you speak▪ she quoth he, I speak to a velvet slave, a stiken slave, with that Stuteley pulled out his Dagger and began to strike at the fellow, which one of his fellows seeing, slung a Last at his head and field him to the ground: Strangwidge thereupon drew his sword, but by that time the fellow had took down his Sword and Buckler, and so well defended himself, that Strangwidge could do him no hurt.  
But Peachie hearing a noise in the step, asked the cause of the quarrel his servants told him they gave the Journemen till language, whereupon Peache went unto them, saying, how now Captains, how grew this quarrel between you and my men?  
Thy men quoth Stuteley, Thy Rogues, and thyself is no better: sir you wrong me says Peachie, and get you gone from my door, for I tell you Stuteley and Strangwidge both, that I keep forty good fellows in my house, that in respect of their manhood may be your equals. I'll tell thee what Peacie, if we two beat not thee and thy forty men, I durst be hanged up at thy door. Fie, fie quoth Peachie, dare you two take five? take that and try quoth Strangwidge, and therewithal gave him a sound blow upon the ear: nay this is too much quoth Peachie, put up this and put up all: Stuteley and Strangwidge if you be men meet me in Lincoln's inn fields presently: Content said they▪ and so they went their ways. Peachie fetching straight his Sword and Buckler, and called his man John Abridges, and so into the fields they went, where they met which these lusty cavaliers. The two Captains seeing him come only with one man, asked if there were all the help he had? I will request no more quoth Peachy to beat you doth out of the fields.  
Brag is a good dog quoth Stuteley, but tell us, hast thou made thy will? what if I have not quoth Peachie? why then quoth Strangwidge, for thy wife and children's sake go home and do it, or get more help to preserve thy life.  
What how now Master quoth John Abridges come you into the field to fight with women, for these be two disguised Butter-whore●, that have more skill in scolding then sighting: shall we be thus outbraved quoth Stuteley, and therewith drawing their Weapons they fell to it lustily, where Peachy and his man so bravely laid about them that they beat both the Captains out of breath, in which trey Stuteley was wounded in the head, and Strangwidge in the Sword arm, but at last they were parted so prevent further mischief.  
The Captains got them to the Surgeon, but Peachy and his man went directly home: and while they were dressing, Peachie sent to Stuteley a Handkerchief by one of his men, and by another a scarf to Strangwidge, by the third he sent a b●t●le of Aqua vi●ae, wishing them to be of good cheer: The Captains finding these favour's to be but stouts, were more gr●eved thereat then their hurt, and therefore with many disdainful speeches they refused his courtesy.  
And you shall understand that afterward Peachy's men by two and two at a time, did often meet and fight with them, and so narrowly would they watch them that they could be in no place at quiet for them, insomuch that the Captains sound fighting work enough and more than they willingly would so that they were seldom out of the surgeon's hands.  
Upon a time it chanced that being upon a point of their voyage to sea, Stuteley and Strangwidge having been at Court, and newly come from my Lord-Admirals lodging, before they came to Chairing cross they were encountered by two of lusty Peachy's men who presently drew upon them, and laid so about them, that the two Captains were glad at length to house themselves for refuge: Now a plague on them quoth Stuteley we shall never be quiet for these Queistrels? Captain Strangwidge there is no other shift but to seek their friendship, therefore to keep our limbs sound against we go to Sea, it is best to use a means to quiet this grudge.  
Then said Strangwidge it were good to do so if a man knew how: but you may be sure they will not easily be entreated, seeing we have abused them in speech: and albeit they sent divers of their friends unto Master Peachy, and by his men, yet they would not yield, nor give consent to be appeased: so that the Captains were at length constrained to make suit to the Duke of Suffolk to take up the matter, who most honourably performed their request, and so the grudge ended betwixt them, to the great credit of Master Peachie, and all his men.   

CHAP. 6. How Henry Nevel and Tom Drum came to serve Peachie of Fleetstreet.  
Peachy's same running through England by means of the f●ays which he and his men had with Stuteley and Strangwidge, it made many of that occupation desirous to come to work with him. Among many other that were desirous of his service, the●e was one called Tom Drum that had a great desire to be his man, a very odd fellow, and one that was sore infected with the sin of ●●●oing: this boasting companion sitting in his Master's shop at Petworth, and seeing the Sun shine very fa●●, made no more ado but suddenly shrouded up St. Huges bones and took down his pick-staff, clapped his pack at his back and called for his Master, who coming into the shop and seeing his man prepared to be packing abroad, demanded the matter was that he followed not his business.  
O Master quoth he, see you not how sweetly the sun shines! well, and what then quoth his Master? Marry qd. 〈…〉 great mind to 〈◊〉 the small birds sing, I called 〈◊〉 forth so take my leave, and so bid you farewell, I hope 〈◊〉 〈…〉 in your hand.  
Why no quoth his Master, thou wilt be suit to take an order for that, and therefore adieu. God be with you good Master, and farewell all good fellows of the Gentle Craft, and therewith be departed.  
The journeymen of the Town hearing that Tom Drum went away, they gathered themselves together to drink with him, and to bring him out of Town: and to this intent, up they go to the sign of the Crown, where they parted not till they had drunk a stand of Bear and Ale.  
Which being done, they bring him a mile on his way, and then once again they drink to his good health, and to Crispianus soul, and to all the good fellows of Kerbfoord, which being done, Tom Drum being in a merry vain, and desirous to drive out the weary way, as he walks he begins thus pleasantly to sing.  
The Primrose in the green forest,  
the Violets they be gay:  
The double daisies and the rest  
that trimly decks the way.  
Doth move the spirits with brave delights  
whose beauties darlings be:  
With hay trickfie, trim go trickfie,  
under the green wood tree.  
The singing of this song awaked a young Gentleman whom sorrow had laid asleep on a green bank by the high ways side. Now when he heard Tom Drum so trimly tune it on the way, raising himself from the sad ground, he awaited his coming, at whose sudden sight Tom Drum like one that had spied an Adder, and seeing him provided with a good sword and buckler, supposed he had been one that waited for a purse: Good fellow quoth he, good morrow, but ill speed: why sayst thou so quoth Harry? because said Tom by the light of the day thou mayst see to pass beside me, and that by thy spéeding ill, I may speed the better: what hast thou so much store of money said Harry that thou art loath to lose it?  
No by my faith said Tom, I assure thee all my stock is but one poor penny. Why then quoth Harry if I were minded to assault thee, it should be more to rob thee of thy manhood then thy money: but tell me, what is that pack at thy back? said Tom they are St. Hugh's bones: quoth Harry what is that? a commodity said Tom that I cannot miss, for they be my working-tools.  
Quoh Harry what occupation art thou of? sir quoth Tom, I am a Goldsmith that makes rings for womens' heels: what meanest thou by that quoth Harry? I am said Tom of the the gentle Craft, vulgerly called a shoemaker.  
Happy thou art quoth Harry that thou hast a Trade to live by, for by that means thou carriest credit with thee in every place: but what is thy name quoth Harry: as for my name I am not a ashamed to tell it, for my name is a noun substantive that may be felt, heard, or understood, and to speak and tell the truth, my name is Thomas Drum, or Tom Drum choose you whether: Well Thomas quoth Harry I perceive thou art a good fellow, therefore I will open need unto thee.  
I have quoth Harry been unto my Parents untoward, not knowing when I was well, I wilfully came from them, and I have spent all my money, I have utterly undone myself, for I am not worth a great. Why then quoth Tom thou art not worth so much as goodman Luters lame Nag, for my Lord of Northumberlands Huntsman would have given ten groats for him to feed his Dogs: notwithstanding be of good cheer, if thou wilt go to London with me I will bear thy charges, and I faith we will be merry at the next Town.  
Alas quoth Harry how can that be, seeing you have but one penny? I tell thee quoth Tom, wert thou a shoemaker as I am, thou might'st go with a single penny all England over, and at every good Town have meat, drink, and lodging of the best, and yet keep thy penny in store. Believe me quoth Harry that's more than any Tradesman else can do.  
Tush quoth Tom shoemakers will not see one another lack for it is their custom, if a good fellow comes to Town, if he wants either meat or money, making but his case known to them, they journeymen of that place will not only bid him welcome, but provide him all things necessary of free cost. Verily qd. Harry I would spend half of my blood to be of the gentle Craft; Wilt thou say and hold sad Tom: or else said Harry hang me: then said he anoint me a Gentleman, and I will shape thee for a shoemaker presently. Thereupon Harry took his knife, and cutting his finger, he all to be smeared Tom Drum's face with his blood, that he made him look like the image of Breadstreet corner.  
Tom Drum seeing him do so, said he might as well anoint him a joiner as a Gentleman: Nay said Harry I do not deceive thee, if thou wilt not believe it, ask all the men in Malin and they will say the like.  
Well I'll take thy word qd. Tom; and therefore look that presently you strip yourself▪ for I will cast thee into a shoemaker's mould and that by and by. Harry perceiving his intention, did what he willed so he was suited in Tom's attire, and Tom in his: so Harry took up St. Hugh's bones, and so they came to Gilford where they were both taken for shoemakers and they was made very welcome by the journeymen of the Town, and they asked Harry if he could st●g, or play on the Flute or sound the Trumpet; believe me quoth Harry I can neither so and a Trumpet, nor play on the Flute, and beshrew his nose that made me a shoemaker, for he never told me how to reckon up my Tools in rhyme or prose.  
Tom hearing him say so, told them that he made him of an old Servingman a new shoemaker: why then quoth they▪ we account this young man's wife that he can be take himself to a Mystery, but it will be hard for one not used to labour, to frame his fingers to a course faculty.  
Not a w●it quoth Harry, for labour by custom becometh easy. 'Tis trus said Tom, for I durst lay a wager that I have made more shoes in a day than all th●se journeymen have done in a month; and I have traveled in all parts of the world: but tell me where thee hast been, and in what countries this h●st traveller.  
Far enough quoth he, to prove as good a workman as thou art: I deny that quoth Tom for I have been where I have seen men headed like Dogs, and others, I have seen that one of their legs hath been as good as a Penthouse to cover their bodies, and yet I have made them shoes to serve their feet: nay if thou will go with me, thou shalt see me make an hundred pair of shoes from sun rising to sun setting, or else count me worse than a stinking mackerel. Now verily thy talk sti●●s too much said they, if thou canst do so much as thou sayst, try the matter here.  
No said Tom I cannot try it in England, nor in France, nor Spain, or Italy nor in Germany, Swedland or Polonia: we think no less said they, nor in no part beside. Yes said Tom I can do it as we travel to Russia, for there every day is five and fifty of our days in length: nay quoth Tom in some parts of the world where I have been, it is day for half a year together, and other part all night.  
Now my Masters tell me, were you not born in Arcadia? no said they; but why ask ye? because said Tom that country abounds with Asses, where they swarm like Bees: we have cause said they to give you thanks for calling us Asses so kindly: not so said Tom; I did but ask a question: but tell me said Tom, what Country breeds the best hides, and whence have we the best Cork? the best Cork said they comes from Portugal, and the best Leather is in England. Not so, for the best Cork is in Sparta, and for Leather there's none like that of Siciona, where I have made a pair of shoes that hath lasted a twelve month and toil in them every day: For I tell you there was never a shoemaker in all England that kept so many men as I did at that time.  
Then said the rest he speaks he knows not what: for Master Peacy of Fleetstreet keeps continually forty men at work, and the green King in S. Martin's hath no less than threescore journeymen.  
Tush said Tom, what say you to him who kept a hundred men half a year together and never did a stitch of work, he was a shoemaker of some account? but who was that said they? it was myself quoth Tom, and yet I never made brags of it: nay pray you tell us said they what men they were? quoth Tom they were vermin: in troth said they we thought as much: But tell us Tom, art thou minded to be Master Peachy's man? I am quoth he except he will make me his fellow. By the mass said they, than wert thou best to have thy wards ready, and thy hi●ts sure for he receives no servants before he tries their manhood, so much the better quoth Tom: And for that purpose I post up to London; thus having had at Gilford very good cheer, but the journeymen of the Town paid for all, and gave them money, so toward London they went with all speed.   

CHAP. 7. How the wild Knight Sir John Rainsford for burying a Massing Priest alive, was fain to leave his Lady, and forsake his house till he had obtained pardon of the King: who meeting with Henry Nevel, and Tom Drum, went with him to serve Peachy of Fleetstreet, where for a while he became a shoemaker.  
YOu shall understand that at this time there lived a gallant Knight called Sir John Ransford, who was for his courage inferior to few, and had a brave company of tall men to wait upon him. He was very charitable to the poor, relieving them daily: he was a famous Courtier, and in very great favour with the King; and the only thing that disgraced his virtues was this, that he was something wild in his carriage, and wilful in his attempts; often repenting sadly what he committed rashly.  
It came to pass upon a time as he was riding to his house, there was at a certain Village a corpse carried to be buried, the deceased Father of five small Children, and the Husband of a woeful widow, whose poverty was such, that she had not money to pay for her burial; Sir John the Parish Priest doubting would not do his duty except he might first have his money.  
The widow with many tears entreated him to do his Office, but he would not, saying,  
What you beggars, would you have me to open my sacred lips to call upon the King of heaven to receive or take thy husband's soul, and to persuade our Grandmother the Earth to wrap his cold body in her warm bosom for nothing? I tell thee no: The poor widow falling on her knees▪ plucked him by the gown saying, good Sir John for sweet St. Charity say one Ave Mary, or one paternoster, and let my poor husband corpse be covered, though it be but with one handful of holy ground.  
Nay Dame quoth Jack do you remember how you served me at the last shift; you would not, no forsooth you would not: and now good Mistress I will not, no penny, no Pater noster▪ that is flat; I thought a time would come at length to cry quittance for your coyness, so away he went.  
The poor widow seeing his obstinacy, with a heavy heart turned into the highway side adjoining to the churchyard, and there she and her Children begg●d of the passers by some money to bury their father's dead corpse.  
At last Sir John came riding with all his men, of whom the poor widow in this manner began to ask his Arms: good Sir John, if ever woman's misery moved your heart to pifty, give me one penny for God's sake, towards the burying of my poor husband: Sir John hearing their lamentable cry, and seeing the dead corpse lying there, asked why the Priest did not bury it?  
O Sir quoth she▪ I have no money to pay for the burial, and therefore he will not do it, no quoth Sir John? I'll make him ●ury the dead, or I'll bury him alive: whereupon be willed one of his men to go and fetch the Priest and bring him immediately, his men did so, and forth came the Priest in his Gown and corner Cap, roughly demanding who would speak with him?  
That would I, quoth Sir John Rainsford, and therefore tell me how it comes to pass that you put not this corpse into the Pit? Sir quoth he, because they will not pay me for my pains.  
Above all men, said Sir John. priest's should respect the poor and needy; and let the dead possess their due; I so they shall, said the Priest, so I may not lose my due: wilt thou not bury him said the Knight: no, not without money said the Priest: I pray thee said the Knight let me entreat thee to bury him: then do you pay me quoth the Priest? Sir John Rainsford seeing him so peremptory, swore a great oath, that if he did not bury the dead Corpe, he would bury him alive: a fig for you go bury blind Byard when he is dead. The Knight when he heard these words, was marvellous angry, he commanded his men to take him up and put him into the grave and they took up the Priest and wrapped him to his Gown and put him quick into the grave, and cast the earth upon him: the Priest cried out hold for Christ's ●ake, and let me rise and I will bury the head for nought? no said the Knight, no rising till the general resurrection: the Knigh sent for a neither Priest to bury the corpse which he did for nothing: which being done, he gave the poor woman ten shillings, and so returned homewards.  
When Sir John came home, he told his Lady what he had done, his Lady being grieved thereat, wished he had paid for twenty burials, then made that one burial: 'tis done now said the Knight, and it cannot be undone again, though I kill myself with grief.  
The Dean of the diocese bearing of it rode presently up to London and complained to the King, which when his grace heard, he was very wroth and sent down Pursedants to apprehead the Knight, but he before had forsaken his house, and wandered disguised up and down the country, where he chanced betwixt Gilford and London, to ●●ght into the company of Harry Nevel and Tom Drum: but Harry viewing him well in the face, descried what he was, and marveling much to see him in such distress, made himself not known, but sounded him in this sort.  
Sir quoth he whether do you wander or to what place do 〈◊〉 travel: Gentle youth said he you may rather ask wh●refore I travel, and then I might answer your question? 〈◊〉 quoth Tom I 〈◊〉 lay a 〈◊〉 to of Ale the Peasant is in love. Nay quoth Sir John, if thou hadst said I travelled with 〈◊〉, thou ha●st said ●ight. Tush said Tom, bridle these foolish p●ssions: The Knight too● great comfort at his words, and having store of Gold about him, made them great cheer at Kingston, and in the end was content to take their counsel, and coming into Fleetstreet, Tom Drum brought them to Peachy's house, where such means was used, that at last upon the trial of their manhood, they were all entertained; and so well Peachy liked of Sir John, that he vowed he should not be his man but his fellow.  
Within short time after the Frenchmen had landed in the Isle of Wight with about too thousand men of war, who in several places of that country burned and spoiled many Towns and Villages to the great loss and ruin of that Isleland.  
Our King hearing of the sad dealings of the Frenchmen in that Island, presently raised an Army together. Peachy that famous and renowned shoemaker, at his own proper cost and charhes set forth thirty of his servants, gallantly mounted, and well armed and furnished for all assays, and Peachie himself like a most noble and valiant Captain over them, mustered them before the King, who liked of them so well, that he chose seven out of that Company for to be of his own lifeguard; at which time Sir John in disguised manner behaved himself so gallantly and soldierlike showed there such good service for the King and his country's good, that thereby he gained his majesty's Royal favour, and was afterwards by him most graciously pardoned for his former faults.  
Peachie of Fleet-greet for his Loyaly to his King was afterwards made his majesty's shoemaker▪ who lived long after that in great favour, and in high estimation with his Sacred Majesty, and in great favour with all the honourable Lords, of the Court.   

CHAP. 8. Of Tom Drums vaunts, and of his rare entertainment a● Mistress farmer's house the fair widow of Fleetstreet.  
THere lived in Fleetstreet at this time a fair widow, who was famous for her beauty, as she was esteemed for her wealth; she was beloved of many Gentlemen, and sued unto by divers Citizens, but so deep was the memory of her late husband ingraver in her heart, that she utterly refused marriage.  
Harry Nevell having his heart fired with the bright beams of this blazing Comet, sought all means possible to quench the heat thereof: Tom Drum perceiving, demanded the cause of his late conceived grief, saying how now Hall, what wind blows so bleak on your cheeks now? hath Cupid the blind slave given thee a bloody nose, or a broken head? Oh, no Tom said he, that little Tyrant aims at no other part but the heart, therefore 'tis not my head but my heart that bleeds. With whom Hall, with whom art thou in love, tell me man? if I bewray your secrets, call me dogs nose, and spit in my face like a young Kitling.  
I tell thee Harry, I am holden in greater account among women than you are awa●e, and they will more willingly show their secrets to me, then to their Ghostly Father: But art thou so in favour with pretty w●nches quoth Harry?  
Yes Sir, quoth Tom, and I trow I have not lived thus long but I know how to make a woman love me, by a cunning trick that I have: I durst lay my life I will make a dozen maids run after me twenty miles for one night's lodging, striding who should first bestow her maidenhead on me.  
That trick surpasses all that ever I heard, said Harry.  
Nay quoth Tom, I'll tell thee what a merry prank I played once, God forgive me for it: upon a time, on a Saturday in the morning I went into East cheap on purpose to spy what pre●ty wenches came to Market were I spied a great many as fresh as flowers in May, tr●pping up and down the streets with hand-baskets on their arms, with stamme● Petticoats, and lily white Aprons: I did but carry the right leg of a Turtle under my left arm, and immediately the wenches were so enamoured with my sight, that they forsook the butcher's shops and enticed me into the tavern, and spent all their money in merriment, that th●y should have laid out at the Market; and I had much ado to be rid of them, for they were ready to go together by the ears for the kisses they would best●w upon me.  
But qd. Harry, your Art may fail now to help me at a dead list: Not so said Tom, therefore if there be any in this street that thou hast a mind to, thou shalt carry but the head of a dead Crow about thee, thou shalt bring her to thy bed, were it f●ne Mistress Farmer herself. But art thou acquaint●d with her quoth Harry, or dost thou think thou couldst prefer a friend to her speech? I said Tom, why I tell thee, I am more familiar with her, then with Doll our Kitchen-drudge, for she will do any thing at my request, nay, in some sort I can command her: I assure thee quoth Harry th●se are high 〈◊〉; and I much wonder you being a young man will not seek a wife that is so wealthy, and so make thyself famous by marrying Mistress Farmer, for it is likely she could well away to make him her husband, to whom she so much opens her heart's secrets.  
'tis true quoth Tom, and I know that if I spoke but half a word she could never deny me: Nay, she would spend ten of her twelve silver Apostles on condition I would vouchsafe to be her husband. But wot you what Harry, it is well known though lilies be fair in show, they be foul in smell, and women as they are beautiful, so they are deceitful: besides, Mistress Farmer is too old for me.  
Too old quoth Harry? why man, she is not so old as Chairing cross: for in my conscience I think, that since her fair eyes beheld the bright sun, she never tasted of the fruits of twenty flourishing Sommers, therefore her age need be no hurt to her marriage.  
I will tell thee my mind quoth Tom, after that a woman is past sixteen or seventeen years old, I would not give fifteen blue buttons for her. But tell me Harry, and that truly, dost thy like her? and if thou dost, say so, and I will warrant her thine own.  
Gentle Tom Drum quoth Harry, be but as good as thy word and do but prefer me to her acquaintance, and I will request no greater a courtesy. Here is my hand quoth Tom Drum, it shall be done: The day being set down, Harry had prepared himself a fair suit of apparel against the time, and Tom Drum in like sort had dressed himself in the best manner; still bearing Harry in hand, telling him that none should be more welcomer to her then himself. The day being come Tom takes Harry by the hand, and coming to the widow's door, Tom falls a ringing of the Bell as if he had been mad, the prentice came to the door and asked who was there: it is I said Tom, open the door, for I must speak with your Mistress, stay then and will tell her said the boy, and leaving him at the door, where he sat till he was almost starved. Quoth Harry, whatsoever your credit is with the Mistress I know not, but with the man it is very small. Tush quoth Tom, I will once again use the help of a Bell-rope.  
At his second ringing, out comes one of his maids, saying, who the devil is at the door which kéeps such a ringing? why 'tis, I you quean said he, who Tom Drum quoth she what would you have? I would speak with your Mistress said he; trust me you cannot said she, for she is at supper with two or three that be suitors: the one is Doctor Burket, and Alderman Jarvice the other.  
Tush quoth Tom, tell me not of suitors, but tell her that I am hear and then 'tis well enough: well I will quoth she, so claps to the door again and kéeps them both out of doors. Now said Harry, this gear work but illfaverdly, for you are little beholding to the maids for aught I see: 'tis no matter Harry said he, but if their Mistress should know this she would swinge their coats soundly for it; and with that one of the boys opening the door, told Tom his Mistress would have him send up his errand, what is she so stately that she cannot come down? I knew the time when she would have been glad to have spoken with me; I quoth the fellow it may be so, when that you have brought her shoes that have pinched her toes. Come Harry said Tom I will go up and speak with her: quoth the fellow but you shall not, therefore keep back and come you not here.  
Tom Drum seeing himself thus disgraced before his fellow Harry (being very angry) asked if this were the best entertainment which they could afford their friends? and then began to struggle with them, which their Mistress hearing, ro●e from the Table to know what the matter was, who being certified of Tom Drums sauciness, she began to check him, why fellow quoth she, what art thou mad? what hast thou to say to me, that thou art thus importunate? no hurt said he, but that this Gentleman and I would bestow a pot●ls of Wine to have two or three hours talk with you.  
I tell thee said she, I am not now at leisure therefore honest fellow trouble me no more. What quoth he are you grown so coy? if you and I were alone I should find you a little milder, must no man but Doctor Bu●ket cast your water? is his P●●sick in most request? well I will be better en●ertained ere I go, for there is never a Fleming of them all shall outface me: Mistress Farmer seeing him so furious, answered he should have present entertainment according to his desert: whereupon she made no more ado but bid her servant thrusts him out by the head and shoulders, which they presently performed: but Harry was by her very modestly answered, that if he had any speech with her, the nex day he should be patiently h●ard, and gently answered: with which words he departed, and going home he told Tom Drum he was beholding to him for preferring his suit to Mistress Farmer: surely you are in high favour with fair women, as it seemed by your entertainment.  
Well quoth Tom, stout on, but I'll lay my life had I not brought thee with me, no man should have had more welcome than I: and now I remember myself that she was displeased that I should make another copartners of her presence: and I remember an old proverb that love and Lordship brooks no fellowship: when the journeymen heard of this Tom Drums entertainment was spoke of everywhere, and so it becomes a proverb, that were it is supposed a man shall not be welcome, they'll say he is like to have Tom Drum's entertainment.  
Now to avoid their flouts Tom Drum forsook Fleetstreet, and went into Scotland, being pressed for a Drummer at Muskelbrough field, where the noble Duke of Sum●erset, and the Earl of Warwick w●re sent with a noble Army, where English and Scots meet, there was fought a cruel battle, the victory fell to thee English, at which time there was slain of the Scots fourteen thousand, fifteen hundred taken prisoners, where we shall leave Tom Drum till his return: making mention how Harry Nevel bevaved himself in the mean time in London.   

CHAP. 9 How Harry Nevel wooed Mistress Farmer, and deceived Doctor Burket, and how they were both beguil●d by an Apprentice that dwelled in the house, who in the end married her.  
Mistress Farmer for her rare beauty was wondrously wooed by Doctor Burket, who did give to her many rich and costly gifts, yet Mistress Farmer would hardly accept them, lest by his cunning he should insert therein more matter then ordinary that might move any motion of love contrary to her natural inclination.  
Upon a time Harry Nevel coming thither, and finding the Doctor very diligent to breed the widows content, plotted how he might cast out the Doctor and so prefer his own suit, at last lighting on a device fit for the purpose: there was an G●iptian woman at Black●Wall who was in travel with child, and could not be delivered by the Midwives thereabout, Harry Nevel hearing of it, thought it fit to employ Doctor Burbet about it, who in the mean time might the better prefer his own suit to the widow.  
Whereupon he sent one to him attired like a servingman, booted and spurred, who coming to the widows house he asked for Doctor Burket, what would you have with him said the Maids? quoth he my Lady Sunborne hath sent for him in post haste, and therefore I must needs speak with him: the Maid presently went and to●d him, when Doctor Burket heard, he took his leave of the Widow, and came to the messenger, saying, how now fellow, what wou●d your Lady have with me? Sir said he, she desires you to come with all speed, for she is wondrous sick: the Doctor presently took horse, and away he goes with the Servingman. Harry hearing of his departure, came to the widow with a smiling countenance, and merrily began to woo her.  
Fair Mistress quoth Harry, I know said he it is the custom of women at first to make their denial to their lovers, because they would not be accounted easily won or soon entreated: ut dear Lady, nature hath not adorned your face with such incomparable beauty, and framed every part so excellently, to wound men with woe, but to work their content. Wherefore now sweet Mistress, in the April of your years, and the sweet summer of your days, banish not the pleasure incident to bright beauty, but honour me with the fair fruit of your womb, and make me blessed by being Father to the issue of your delicate body.  
Nay then Sir said she I perceive you will grow troublesome and show yourself no such men as you profess yourself, and I may say your friendship is more in words then in deeds, and I perceive I must call my maid for a cup of yolding beer before you will depart.  
Nay Lady said he I will save you that labour, seeing your love commands me, and I pray God grant you in a favourable mind at our next meeting, and so he departed.  
Now you shall understand that this gallant widow had in her house a proper young man which was her Prentice, who long had born his Mistress good will; at last he declares his mind to a secret friends, who comforts him in this sort: Tush said she, what if she be thy Mistress? be not ashamed to show thy affection to her, but try her, thou know'st not how fortune may savour thy suit. O quoth he, if I were out of my time I could have some heart to woe her.  
P●sh stand not on those terms said his friend Francis, for she will never requite kindnesses with discourtesies, and therefore William be not too fearful.  
The time at last being come that Mistress Farmer had appointed to have her books cast up & she gets her to her closet, and whistles to her maid to bid William bring her up the books which very willingly he came to her, and said, Mistress quoth he, doubt not but that your estate is good, for I have been as careful and as just to keep it as if it had been mine own. I am said she the more beholding to thee, neither shalt thy true service go unrewarded if I live, or if I die thou shalt not be altogether forgotten.  
These kind speeches comforted William's heart, whereupon be ●ell to his reckonings roundly, till his mind running on his mistress's beauty, would miss and count threescore and fourscore, nine score, there you misreckon forty said she. O my dear Mistress blame me not if I do so, seeing your sweet presence hath made wiser than myself to dote: but pardon dear Mistress my presumption in being thus bold to unburthen my heart's affection to you▪ and therefore sweet Mistress despise not him who has been your faithful fervant, but yield unto him your savour which may prolong his days with blessed years.  
His Mistress with lowering looks made him this answer, how now sirrah, hath my too much mildness made you so sa●cy, can you set your love on no lower pitch, but you must seek to be Master of your Mistress.  
Hereupon she commanded her man Richard to take his place, and to be foreman of the shop, and gracing him with the keys of her Closet: and commanding her man William to fetch her some Oysters and a pint of Claret Wine, and bring them to her Chamber, Will overjoyed at these words, ran with all speed & brought them to her, & when she saw him, she with a smiling countenance said, what Wilkin art thou come, that is well done bring them hither, said she, and the Manchet and Whitewine, yes forsooth, I will, and if you please I will open the Oysters for you, which he did, and opened faster than she could eat.  
William said she, you are quick in opening of Oysters, yet 〈◊〉 in costing up your Accounts: these words put William in mind of former passages, and made him more eager to renew his suit to his dear Mistress, and said O my dear Mistress said William, 〈◊〉 not a pleasant youth, and in the glory of his age to die, which I shall, if you deny to grant to me your favour and to make me your husband.  
She thereat seemed very coy, and took it in disgrace (yet to herself had granted his request) that he profer●d such love and liking to her 〈…〉 to him, what has my familiarity made you so saucy? at which words William seemed to be angry, and said, nay Mistress said he, if you had been as willing to grant my request, as I have been forward to follow your precepts, I might long ere this enjoyed what I now have desired and therewithal he departed.  
These words the seriously took into consideration and told her friends what had past between her man William and she, her friends being very willing and told her that he was a proper young man, and that ●he might live more happily with him, then with Doctor Burket, or Harry Nevel: at which words the utterly renounces them too and resolves to live and die with William.  
William hearing her resolute answer spoke thus to her; I see you have so freely granted my request, worthy I were to die a beggar, if I should refuse so 〈◊〉 a treasure, and thereupon joined their hearts and hands, and being married; they lived many happy days together.   

CHAP. 10. Of the green King of Saint Martin's and his merry feats.  
TH●re dwelled in Saint Martin's a jolly shoemaker, he was commonly called the Green King▪ for that upon a time he showed himself before King Henry, with all his men att●nding on him clothed all in green Sa●ten.  
Th●s green King as they called him, he was a man very humourous, and of a small statute, but most valiant and couraious, and he continually used the Fencing-school; and when he went abroad he always carried a two-handed sword on his shoulder, or under his Arm: he kept continually thirty or forty servants, and kept always a gallant and a bountiful house as most men did in his time.  
You may understand that in his young years his Father dying left him a good portion, so that he was in great credit and estimation among his neighbours, add that which made him more happy was this, that God blessed him with the gift of a good wife, who was a very comely young woman, and therewithal very careful for his commodity: but he who had his mind always bent upon merriment, little respected his profit in regard of his pleasure; insomuch that through his wasteful expense, he brought po●erty upon himself before he was aware, so that he could not do as he was accustomed: which when his daily companions perceived, they by little and little would shun his company and if at any time he cha●sed for to pass by them, perhaps they would lend him a nod or too or it may be give him a good morrow, and make no more add.  
Is it so quoth the green King, doth want of money part good company, or to my countenance so changed that they do 〈◊〉: know me? I have seen the day when never a kna●e of th●m all but would have made much of my dog for my sake, and would have given me twenty salutations on a Sunday morning if I would bestow but one pint of Muskadine upon them? and what, hath a thread bar● cloak scared from me all good fellows? why, though I have not my wonted habit, I have still the same heart: and though my money be gone, my mind is not altered; why then, what jacks are they to reject me.  
Ay, I, now I find my wife's tale true, for she was wont to say, husband, husband refrain these trencher flies, these smooth faced flatterers, that like Drones live upon the honey of your labour, and suck away the swéetness of your substance. I wi●, I wi●, if once you should come in want, there is not the best of them all that would trust you for ten greats: by which saying, I will lay my life she is a witch, for it is come as just to pass as Marlins' prophecy, for I would the other day but have borrowed twelve pence, and I tried thirteen friends and went without it: It being so, let them go hang th●mselves for I will into Flanders, that is flat, and leave these slaves to their servile conditions, where I will try whether a firkin barrel of butter be worth a pot of strong beer, and a load of Holland cheese better than a gallon of Charnico: and if it be by the cross of this sword I will never stain my credit with such a base commodity again.  
With that he went to his wife, saying, woman dost thou hear? I pray thee look well to thy business till I come again: for why? for to drive away melancholy, I am minded to walk a mile or two: but husband quoth she, were you there where you laid your plate to pawn? I pray you is it not misused? and is it safe? woman said he I was there, and it is safe I'll warrant thee for e●er coming into thy hands again, thou know'st I borrowed but twenty mark upon it, and they have sold it for twenty pound: 'tis gone wife, 'tis gone.  
O husband said she, what ill fortune h●ve we to be thus ill dealt with all? and therewithal she wept: fie quoth he leave thy weeping, bang it up, let it go, the best is, it never cost us a great; it is in vain therefore to mourn for the matter; he thereupon took his leave of his wife, bidding her look to the house, and see that the boys ploy their wor●.  
The green King having thus taken his leave, went towards Billingsgate on purpose to take Barge, where by the way he met with Anthony now now: what, Master said he well met? I pray where are you walking? will you not have a crash ere you go?  
Y faith Anthony quoth he, thou knowest that I was ever a good fellow, and one that never had been a niggard to thee at any time, therefore now it thou wilt bestow any music on me before I go, do, and if it please God that I return safely from Flanders again, I will requite thee well for thy pains. but at present I have no money for music: Gods nigs said Anthony, whether you have money or no, you shall have music, I do not always request coin of my friends for my cunning: what, you are not every bo●y, and seeing that you are going beyond sea, I will bestow a pint of wine on you at the Salutation: sayst thou so Ahthony quoth he, in in good seeth I will not refuse thy courtesy, and with that they slept into the Tavern where Anthony called for wine, and drawing forth his Fiddle began to play, and after he had scraped half a score lessons, he began to sing this merry song as followeth, 
When should a man show himself gentle and kind,  
When should a man comfort the sorrowful mind?  
O Anthony now now now.  
O Anthony now now now.  
When is the best time to drink with a friend?  
When is it meetest my money to spend?  
O Anthony now now now.  
O Anthony now now now.  
When goes the King of good fellows away?  
That so much delighted in dancing and play?  
O Anthony now now now.  
O Anthony now now now.  
And when shall I bid my Master farewell?  
Whose bounty and courtesy so did excel?  
O Anthony now now now,  
O Anthony now now now.   
Lo ye now Master quoth he, this song have I made for your sake, and 〈◊〉 the grace of God when you are gone I will sing it every Sunday morning under your wife's window, that she may know that we drank together ere we parted: I pray thee than do so said the green King, and I pray thee do my commendations to her, and tell her at my return I hope to make merry.  
Thus after that they had made an end of their Wine, and paid their reckoning, Anthony putting up his Fiddle departed, see king to change music for money; whilst the green King of St. Martin's sailed in Gravesend Bargs. But Anthony in his absence sung this song so often in St. martin's, that ever after that he purchased a name which he never lost till his dying day, for ever after that men called him nothing but Anthony now now.  
But it is to be remembered that the green King's wife became so careful in her business, and goverded herself with such wisdom in all h●r affairs, that during her husband's absence she did not only pay many of his debts, but also got into her house every thing that was necessary to be had; the which her diligence won such commendations in so much that her credit in all places was very good, and her gains (through God's blessing) came so flowing in, that before her husband came home, she was had in good reputation with her neighbours, and having no need of any of their Favours, every one was ready to p●offer her courtesy, saying, good neighbour if you want any thing tell us, and look what friendship we may do you, be sure you shall find it.  
I neighbour quoth she. I know your kindness, and may speak thereof by experience, wrll may I compare you to him that would never bid any man to dinner, but at two of the cl●ck in the afternoon when he was ●ssured they had fi●d their bellies before, and that they would not touch his meat, except for manne●s sake: wherefore for my part I will give you many thanks for your kindnesses when I take benefit of your p●offer,  
Why neighbour we speak for your good quoth they: 'tis true quoth she▪ and so say they that call for wi●e to bestow on a drunken man when they know it will do him as much good in his boots as his belly.  
Well neighbour said they, God be thanked that you have no cause to make use of any of your friends: Marry Amen quoth she, for if I had, I think I should find few there; these and the like greetings were often betwixt her and her neighbours.  
At last her husband came home, and to his great comfort found his Estate so good, that he had great cause to bless God for the same, for a warm purse is the best medicine for a cold 〈◊〉 that may be.  
The green King therefore boasting himself as brave as ever he did, ha●ing sworn himself a faithful companion to his two-handed sword, would never go without it.  
Now when his ancient acquaintance saw him again so gallant, every one was ready to curry ●avour with him, and many would proffer him Wine. And where before they were wont to thrust him to the kennel; and nothing respecting his poverty, they give him now the upper hand in every place, saluting him with cap and knee: But he remembering how slightly they set by him in his need, did now as slightly estéems▪ heir ●l●ttery, saying,  
I cry you mercy, me th●nks I take seen your face, but I never knew you for my friend. No quoth one, I dwell at Aldersgate, and am your near neighbour▪ and so much the worse said the green King: wherefore quoth the other? because said he, I think the place is meet for an honester man, I trust sir you know no hurt by me.  
Nor any goodness quoth the green King but I remember you are be, or one of them of whom once I would have borrowed forty pence, yet could not get it if thereby I might have saved forty lives: therefore goodman ●og, or good man cog, or good man dog, choose you whether, scrape no acquaintance of me, nor come any more in my company, I would advise you least with my long sword I chop off your coward legs▪ and make you stand like Saint Martin's beggar upon two stilts. The fellow bearing him say so, went his ways, and never durst speak to him afterward.   

CHAP. 11. How the Green King went a walking with his wife, and got Anthony now now to play before them in which sort he went with her to Bristol.  
THe green King being a man much given to go abroad, his Wife upon a time thus made her moan to him; husband quoth she, I think you are the unkindest man alive, for as often as you walk abroad, you were never the man that did once take me in your company: it is no small grief unto me, while I sit doting at home every sunday and holy day, and to see how other men walk with their wives, and lovingly hear them company into the fields, that thereby they may have some recreation after their weeks weary foil; this pleasure have they for their pains, but I poor soul could never get such a courtesy at your hands: either it must needs be that you love me but little, or else you are ashamed of my company, and I tell you true you have no reason for the one or the other.  
Well quoth he my dear, seeing you are so desirous to walk a broad with me, Thursday next is Saint Iames's day against which time prepare yourself to go with me to the Fair, where by the grace of God I will bestow a fat Pig upon you, and there I mean to be merry, and doubt not but that I will walk with you till you are weary of walking. Nay quoth the I should never be weary of your company though I went with you to the world's end: God a mercy for that wife said he, but so doing, I doubt I should try you a very good footwoman or a bad flatterer.  
Thus it passed till Thursday was come, and in the mean season meeting with two or three other shoemakers, he asked them if they would walk with him and his wife to Saint Iames's fair, that we will with all our hearts said his fellow shoemakers: but will you not like flinchers go back from your words quoth the green King? To that (they said) which if they did they would forfeit unto him a gallon of wine.  
Tush said the green King, talk not to me of a gallon of wine, but will you be bound in a bond of twenty pound a piece to perform it?  
Why quoth the shoemakers, what needs bands for such a matter as this, we hope that you will take our words for a great deal more than this?  
My Masters said the green King, the world is grown to that pass, that word● are become wind, and I will trust you as little on your word, as long Meg on her honesty, therefore if you will be bound in a bond so, if not, I will make no account of your company.  
The shoemaker's hearing these words, and they knowing him to be a man of a merry mind, after that they had washed their wits well with Wine to the Scriveners they went, and there they bound themselves in twenty pound bond according to his request.  
They had no sooner made amend of this merry match, but presently into another Tavern they get, and who should they meet but that merry companion Anthony now now, who as soon as he spied the green King, he smiled with a wry 〈◊〉, but joyfully embraced him with both his hands, saying, what my dear Master, well are you met said Anthony, and pray you Sir when came you from the other side of the water, by my troth you are welcome, and I am glad to see you with all my heart.  
God a mercy good Anthony said the green King, but how comes it to pass that you go not so often into Saint Martin's as you were wont to do?  
O Master said Anthony, you may remember what song I made at your parting when you went to Graves end.  
Yes marry said the green King, and what of that? quoth he, by singing that under your window, all the merry shoemakers in Saint martin's have got it by the end, and now with their so often singing it up and down amongst their jovial crew, that they have made it as common as a Printed Ballad, and by their so doing I have gotten such a name by it, that into what place soever I go, I am called nothing but Anthony now now.  
And now Master I'll tell you, that by these merry shoemaker's meanss it hath made me as well acquainted in all Cheapside and other places about the City as the Cat in the Cream-pan; for as soon as ever the goldsmith's Wives spy me they will hold up their fingers and cry O yonder goes Anthony now now that merry companion, and this is their prating as I go along.  
And when I come amongst the merchant's Daughters, those merry prettey wanton wags will laugh at me whilst they are ready to bespiss themselves, and call me to them saying come Anthony now now play us a fit of music says one; come Anthony sing us a merry song says another, so that I cannot pass up and down the streets by the means of these merry wagtails, insomuch that now the little boys in the street will have a fling at my tail, and take my name in vain, and say O yonder goes Anthony, O yonder goes Anthony now now, and so they run up and down after me like a sort of Pismires: good Lord, good Lord, you never knew the like: hear ye me now my good Master? and I will tell you, that since you departed from me and took your journey beyond Sea, that by singing of that song so often 〈…〉 wife's window, that I have gotten more pence than your wife has pins, 
So that with taking small pains and little sweat,  
My name is as famous as Alexander the great.  And now my Master seeing you are come again and safely arrived from your dangerous voyage from Sea, I will ere long make the second part.  
But now the green King is no sooner returned from his voyage beyond Sea, but his wife solicits him to take a journey into the country & to take her along with him, for since he had her to Saint James' Fair, she was so well pleased with him, that she could go with him to the world's end.  
The green King therefore being willing to give his wife content, he is resolved to take her with him to Bristol, and connsidering what company he should get to go with him to pass away the tedious journey, at last he meeting with Anthony now now, who no sooner did his Master ask him the question, but presently he gives his consent, and immediately Anthony get his Fiddle and away they take their journey, and merrily they march and at every Town they come at Anthony pulls out his Fiddle and plays as he goes, which the country people much admiring at his mirth and merry conceits, they were very desirous to have him stay with them, but Anthony not willing to leave his Master and Mistress, desired them to excuse him; so he continued this mirth and merriment until they came to Bristol: where playing up and down at several 〈◊〉 in the Town, he gave the people a great deal of content, and got as great a name there as he did in the City of London, so that he could not pass upon down the streets; they would cry, O yonder goes Anthony now now. And so having got the praise of the country, he returns back with the green King and his wife unto the City of London who in a short time after fell dangerously sick, and how he escaped that s●ickness, and other merry exploits he played afterwards, we shall mention when we come to write the third part,  
FINIS.