GUZMAN, HIND AND HANNAM OUTSTRIPPED: BEING A Discovery of the whole Art, Mystery and Antiquity of THIEFS AND THIEVING: WITH THEIR Statutes, Laws, Customs and Practices.  
TOGETHER WITH Many new and unheard of CHEATS and TREPANNING.  
LONDON, Printed and are to be sold in Paul's Churchyard. 1657.   

The Preface to the Reader.  
men's natural inclination is always prone and addicted to so great rashness, that though vice of itself is so abominable & blame-worthy, notwithstanding there be too many who openly praise it, and account it their honour to practise it. Thence it cometh to pass that theft, being a pernicious vice and forbidden by the Laws, doth not cease to be followed by many, who to defend themselves from the reproaches which may be laid against them, allege that the Lacedæmonians a people very severe and just, permitted the use thereof to their youth; that the Egyptians held those for able men that could steal best. That for the same subject the Poets in their writings have bragged of the subtlety of Mercurius, and of the cunning of the goddess Laverna who was the Thief's Patroness. Briefly, that this profession is made commendable by the crafty tricks of many that have exercised it, such as were Prometheus the father of Deucalion, Cacus and Autolicus, the one the son of Vulcan and the other of Mercury, Arsaces' King of the Parthians, Denis Tyrant of Sicily, The Emperor Nero, Leo son of Constantine Copronimus, Fulvius, Flaccus Censor, Ninus King of Egypt, to whom justin ascribeth the invention of so fine a trade, and a great many others with whom the books of Authors are filled. To which we may add, that even the most understanding men are not free from this vice, if it be certain (as saith Simplicius) that the Prince of the Peripatetics (Aristotle) stole that which he hath from the most excellent of those that went before him. That Virgil drew all his richest inventions from Homor, Hesiod and Theocritus, and that Cicero boldly furnished himself with the doctrine of the Stoiques' Academiques and Epicures.  
But for all this, it cannot be but that natural reason must put down all these vain opinions, because according to Aquinas, Theft is quite contrary to that love which we own to our Neighbours, and withal to God's Law and man's Law. And to this effect beside that in Exodus and Leviticus it is expressly forbidden, it is yet also detested by the Apostle S. Paul, where speaking to the Ephesians he saith, Let him that stole steal no more: but let him rather labour and work with his hands. Also the people of old taking notice of this truth ordained against Thiefs several sorts of punishments, especially the Grecians & the Athenians, as Ludovicus Vives doth very well observe, who saith that the Emperor Frederick the third was the first that condemned them to the Galleys: Ovid speaks to this purpose that Scyron one of the renowned Thiefs of his time was thrown headlong into the sea by Theseus, Procrustes killed by Hercules and Sisyphus cut in pieces. Virgil that Pedant Balista was stoned for his thefts; and the divine Arious, that the King Agreement caused Brunellus the cunningest Thief that ever was to be hanged for having boldly stolen Angelicus Ring and Scripants horse. I pass all the other examples that I might allege: to tell you in a word, good Reader, that this book discourseth not here so much of the Antiquity of Thiefs and of their cunning slights, as to teach thee to eschew them, for if it be true that the wounds of Darts which are foreseen from fare, are not so hurtful as those which are shot at us unawares. I assure myself that the Reader will use it as an instrument to avoid the snares which lewd fellows ordinarily lay for honest men,  
Farewell.   

THE ANTIQIUTIE OF THIEF'S  

CHAP. I. In which the Author compareth the miseries of Prison to the pains of Hell. 
The Author would not have been so vehement, had he been in one of our English prisons, which for the most part are made rather places of ease and delight then punishment.   
THe terror of Hell which is set forth to us in holy Writings, doth so resemble to us the miseries which are endured in prison, that if this had not that hope which th'other wanteth we might attribute unto it the title of a true Hell, seeing that in this which is most proper to them, the one and the other have a mutual and full correspondence, which maketh me to wonder much at the unprofitable diligence with which some late writers distil their brain's to find the means how they may properly represent unto the world the horror of that terrible mansion, when they might have attained to the end of their purpose in showing only the desperate life which people suffer in prison, which shall be perfectly known with its extreme misery, if first of all we particularly treat of the torments which are perpetually exercised in Hell.  
The Authors, who writ upon this subject, bring the pains of Hell to two points; the first and chief of which is their depriving from the essence of God, which they call essential pain, it being that, which properly containeth all the torments that can be imagined in Hel. And that same is so extreme and so cruel, that if the soul had in the other world as many pleasures and contentments as the thought of man could imagine, being deprived of God, it could not have any thing which had one only shadow of comfort. Because that God being the root and the fountain of all goodness, and all contentments and delights, which are in the world being stored up in him alone, it is evident that with him the soul shall have all consolation which is possible to be imagined and that without him it shall be plunged into a bottomless depth of sorrow & confusion, with which and with the certainty that it hath, that its griefs shall never be ended, it curseth its being, its birth and its life.  
The other pain which the damned suffer in Hell is the accidental pain, so called because it is joined to the former as an accident, which serveth to make the apprehension of the damned more sensible, throwing them headlong into the bitter sight of their misery. To this is joined the detestable company of Devils, the horrible and frightful lodging, the several kinds of torments, the continual lamentations, the disorder, the confusion, the fire, the brimstone, the darkness and a thousand other afflictions, of which, and of the depriving of Gods being and presence, that wretched and perpetual Hell is composed.  
And as touching the variety of officers, that bear rule in this dark dungeon; we know already that in that great battle which Saint Michael th' Archangel had against Lucifer, for the throne and the glory of the Creator, not only the same Lucifer fell from Heaven, and from the highest of his perfection to the lowest and hollowest gulfs of Hell: but also a great number of evil angels with him, who were copartners with him in his rash and accursed purpose. And these although they do equally partake with him in the pain essential, which is being deprived of God, have nevertheless some difference amongst themselves: whether it be that everyone is of one kind, as saith a Doctor of the Church, or whether for that they had more or less consent in his malice. Because that without doubt those who obstinately defended the pride of Lucifer fell with him into the deepest place of the earth which is the centre of the the world where divines do place Hell. And those who were not so vehement; but only approved his purpose with a certain and determinate fellow-liking, fell not so low: I will say that the accidental pain of them was not so great as that of these others. And of this sort the accidental pain of these spirits was made several according to the degrees of the malice which they had in their sin. And though that in Hell there is no order, as job saith; there is notwithstanding a certain government and order among these spirits under-placed and divided into several companies with divers degrees and qualities. So as the good Angels in the heavenly jerusalem are divided by their order into Angels, archangels, Thrones, Powers, Cherubins, Seraphins, and other holy dignities.  
All the Legions of Devils which fell from Heaven remained subject to the Archangel Michael, who hath commandment and empire over them all. As also according to some men's opinions, every good Angel of Princes hath commandment over one Legion. And beside the obedience which all of them owe to Saint Michael, as to their Captain General under God, they have also among them their Prince of malice, to whom they are subject and obey, and upon him depend divers Lieutenant's and Governors, who wholly divide the government of all the hellish malice, every one of them having under his charge the disposing and good order of his band. Neither less nor more than in a well ordered Camp, where there is a great multitude of Soldiers, the body of the army is divided into several Regiments, as are the General, the Campmaster, Captains, Ensigns, Sergeants, Corporals and others of this sort, who order the Soldiers and the army. And as there are sundry Offices of these, some being foot, others horse, some Musqueters, others Pikemen, and finally of several employments: there are also among the evil spirits several Offices and places, some tempting by Covetousness, others by Riotousness, others by Ambition, and finally, every particular sin hath its appointed and determinate Officers, having all of them equally; one only end and scope to carry souls to Hell.  
In this Devilish army there are some Devils, that never come out of Hell, but are evermore shut up within it, receiving the souls which enter in thither, and giving to them a place and kind of torment which their sins deserve. There are others who are ever wand'ring, compassing the earth to and fro, and searching for souls to carry them into Hel. Nevertheless let no man think that these have any power or authority to bear away one soul to Hell, nor these others to shut up in their dark dens, unless it be by the express commandment and particular commission of God. And so much concerning these hellish Officers.  
As for its largeness, it is such, that all sorts of sinful souls enter into Hell, and it is ordinarily full fraughted and peopled with Blasphemers, Perjured persons, Murderers, Adulterers, Envious persons, and to conclude with all sorts of evil-doers: who although they have in common the essential pain, which is the wanting of God, and are all of them in Hell, yet they have several rooms and torments according to every one's deserving, since it is certain that the pain of him that oweth little shall not be so great at all as the pain of him that oweth much, and that the just judge chastiseth and recompenserh every one according as he deserveth.  
To all this variety is added the extreme confusion of Hell, the disorder, the unquietness, the unruly carriage, and continual agitation, with which they are always tormented seeing it is evident, that where rage and despair reigneth, there can be no friendly fellowship nor agreement.  
This estate, practice & disposition of the horrible pit of this hellish lodging is the lively portrait of that desperate life, which men suffer in prison, in which the beholder shall find so in tire & so mutual a correspondence that there is not almost any other difference between them but in the name Because that first to the essential pain of Hell, which is the depriving of God's powerful presence, the want of liberty hath correspondence, which with a just title we may call a pain essential, for so much as it is the queen of all the apprehensions & motives of sorrow, which are able to afflict a good wit.  
And as in that, the soul being deprived of God, it is also deprived of all worldly pleasures, even so in this (to wit in prison) it enjoyeth not any thing which hath the least shadow of content. Because that although a prisoner were clothed with purple, served as a King, fed with the most delicate victuals of the world, his Chamber hanged with cloth of gold, that he were entertained with all sort of Music, visited by his parents and friends, all this, nor all that could be desired more could bring him any kind of comfort. On the contrary he should have less, because that all things avail nothing but to awaken his appetite and make him desire that which others enjoy, and to which he cannot attain. Whence proceedeth the increasing of his want (of liberty) and consequently his pain.  
The harshness and force of depriving (of liberty) may be easily, known by its contrary, this being infallible that the depriving of one thing shall be by so much evil as the possession of it shall be good. And liberty being the most precious jewel of the soul, and the greatest perfection, which the unbounded Author of this, hath engrafted in the reasonable creature; it is certain that the depriving thereof shall be the most cross and unsufferable of all others. That liberty is that which guideth and directeth man's actions to divers ends, without enforcing them and with pleasure, choosing, and commanding, experience teacheth this, in which the supreme workmaster would distinguish man from other living creatures, whose end obtaineth by a natural instinct, which leadeth them, as by a bridle, to the appetite and delight in it, and that it is so powerful, and maketh man so absolute, that his understanding having proposed the good, the perfect, the honest and the delectable, he may resolve with himself to love it or not to love it at all, sigh that none but God may ask a reason of this so absolute commandment, Natural Philosophy telleth it. Whence and from many other reasons, which I could bring, it is clearly perceived that there is not any thing in the world, to which the essential pain of Hell can more properly be compared, than to the depriving of liberty, seeing it bringeth man to such extremity, that he abhorreth himself, his being, his rank, and his estate.  
He knoweth well this truth which I writ, who hath sometimes been in prison, laded with chains and with irons, subject to the rage of that terrible abode, cursing (though Noble and well borne) his being, his condition and Nobleness, grieving to be that which he is, and wishing to be a great deal meaner. In midst of which despair he envieth the peaceable condition and tranquillity, of the Commons, and could wish to have been borne of the most base dregs of the people. He curseth his actions and his studies, the points of honour which his parents taught him, the understanding which he hath, thinking with himself, that if he were a private man, he should not at all see himself in so miserable and so extreme a perplexity, and that this would not be little enough for him, if despair left him amongst the folk of that same sort and nature: but it goeth on refining and consuming him in the fire of impatience, in such sort, that it draweth him out of his reasonable being, and bringeth him to that of a brute beast, and to the most base and infinite kinds of them, that groaning for liberty, he envieth the bird that flieth, the Dog that barketh, the Pismire that traveleth, and desireth to be one of them. And the venom of this fierce beast stayeth not there, for tying harder the cords of a poor prisoner, it draweth him out of the rank and file of living creatures, making him desire to be a tree, an image or a stone, bringing him to nothing, and making him bewail that ever he was borne in the world. By which it is clearly seen that the want of liberty making so unhappy a change in man, as to throw him headlong from the highest & most perfect of his inclination and appetite, to the basest and lowest, and from the image and likeness of God, to nothing; this is the most strong and most rigorous pain that can be imagined, and that which truly doth better represent the essential pain of Hell.  
To the accidental pain do correspond the innumerable afflictions and calamities, which follow the depriving of liberty, amongst which are the stink of the prison, the disorderly frame of the buildings, the defamed company, the continual and huge lewd voices, the diversity of nations, the differing humours, the shame, the persecution, the disgrace, the mockery, the cruelty, the blows, the torments, the poverty and the miseries without number, which are suffered in prison, of the which, and of other depriving of liberty the lively pattern of Hell is framed and composed.  
As touching the executioners and officers, no man will deny but that all the earth is full of incarnate Devils, more obstinate and more accursed in their kind than those of Hell, the most part of them being fallen, as Lucifer and his followers, from the Heaven of honour. I will say that for the deserving, and sins which they have committed, the Angel Saint Michael, who is the justice, hath drawn them from the fellowship and dwelling of the good, and they seeing themselves beaten down and dishonoured, have taken upon them the office of Devils, to avenge themselves of the poor innocent souls, running day & night thorough the streets, markets and public places of the City, smelling out and searching for people to lay them in prison. And these are they who commonly are called Sergeants, who drag a poor man to prison with such rage and tyranny, as these in the perpetual Hell could not utter more. And if we be able to find any difference between them, it is this, that the Devils of Hell fly from the sign of the Cross; but those of the prison love, reverence and adore that happy sign, in such sort, that he who would deal well with them, and somewhat turn their rigour into a little pity, it is necessary that he have always the Cross in his hands, for at what time he shall leave it, they will torment him ten times more than his sin can deserve: but they having met with him, they say a Pater noster for the soul which they take, until they come to da nobis hodie, and they go not at all any further.  
These Devils are those who walk commonly through the streets, and places of the City, seeking for souls in the most secret corners, the multitude and trade of whom is so great, that I do not think there are more Legions of Devils in Hell, than there be Sergeants in the Commonwealth. Amongst them there be some that go on horseback, who have charge to travel into the Country, unto places fare remote from the City, and to bring men into prison from places most solitary and quiet. These, for that they being of a more haughty nature than the others, we may call orientals from the Region of fire, and these are called Archers or Messengers, the Legion or company of whom hath for their Chieftain or Captain a great Devil whom they call Provest.  
There are other Devils in this Hell, the inferiors of the aforenamed, who go ordinarily by ten or twenties in a company, disguised and masked, to spy if they can catch one poor soul by treachery, they are so cowardly so effeminate and dastardly, that they meet sometimes to the number of forty and all to take one man, and yet they dare not adventure to take him their selves alone, without the assistance and aid of a Devil with a long gown, who usually accompanieth them. They go always attered, torn and naked, and this is the lowest and most infinite Legion of all as the Hobgoblins under ground, whom the people have been accustomed to call Apparitors.  
Every Legion of these Devils have an infinite number of halfe-divells who go disguised and covered through the City, 
Spanish apparitors what sort of people.  taking notice of all that is done there, with great subtlety and craft. They take and change every day a thousand forms and shapes, showing themselves in every company in a several manner; at one occasion going like countrymen, in an other like strangers, by & by of one profession, and by and by of another. These are they who with great sleight and subtlety discover the price, after the same manner as the lying dogs do the partridges, bringing the aforesaid Devils to the proper place of the soul, which they would take, and pointing it out as with the finger: and these we call Spies, and amongst them they are called Recorders.  
There be other Devils, who are esteemed more noble and more courteous, whose office is to repeal penalties, commissions, requests, to bail a soul, and to take the burden on themselves, answering for it every time that the judge asketh for it. And though it be in their keeping, they give it always time and place to solicit its own affairs, to visit its judges, and to plead its cause, using with it some pity and friendship. Finally they have a nature mingled with goodness and malice, and they are between Devils and Angels, whom by reason of the familiarity which they have with man, we may call them Airy Devils; and these the common people call doorkeepers.  
All these aforesaid devils, & others whom I leave to mention for avoiding prolixity, are found in the world, every one of whom goeth several ways, leading souls into the Hell of prison, & all of them, after the manner of evil spirits are divided into divers Legions and troops. Yet notwithstanding they torment not the souls because they enter not into Hell themselves, only they deliver them to Lucifer's Lieutenant the jailer, & return incontinent unto their walk; for to give up their account to their Captain, of the tentations which they have practised that day, and of the number of souls which they have carried that day to prison, every one of them reckoning up the inventions & wiles which he hath practised in his hellish Office. There be also other devils which never go out of the prison, nor have any other employment, but to torment the poor souls which enter in thither. And those are so tyrannous, so cruel & so wicked, that they satisfy not their enraged hunger but by sucking the blood, & the life of the poor captive that falls among their hands: albeit they suffer him to breath so long; while they have emptied his purse. And these be the under porters & servants of the jailer, who, as a Prefident of that dreadful dwelling, receives the prisoner from the hands of the Sergeant and writes in his book the day of his entering, his accusation, his name and the name of that Devil that hath taken him.  
These shut-up Devils have no power nor authority to torment a soul which the others do bring in, nor these others to take them, but by the command of justice declared by some honourable Officer, who with reason and truth by a signed writing chargeth these unclean spirits to take such a soul.  
As for the rest it may well be proved that every Sergeant hath power to lead a man to prison, even so as every Devil may bear a soul to Hell, seeing that there ordinarily entereth thither an infinite number of prisoners, and every one imprisoned by his several judge: some answer before a judge with a long gown, others before one with a short gown, without reckoning, many other officers of justice, who as good Angels have authority and power to exercise it, who have their appointed and praticular Devils, who execute their commandment and will.  
As touching the diversity of the lodgings and places of their abode, the curious shall see many differing in the prison, every one fitted for the prisoners delight. For he who is not criminal, and who is Noble is usually lodged in the lightsomest chambers and neatest contrived: but understand that the Nobleness of a prison consisteth in a good purse. Those that be of a meaner quality & deserving are fitted in certain dark & black chambers, where smoke and cinders continually bearesway.  
The prison hath yet this property of Hell, to take in all sort of sinners & criminals, being usually peopled, and full of Thiefs, Ruffians, Cutpurses, Panders, Whores, Murderers, Perjured men, Bankrupts, Cheaters, Usurers, & Sorcerers, in as great variety as the living creatures that entered into Noah's Ark, so that entry is not denied nor the gate shut against any.  
Of this remarkable variety the confused multitude of a prison is composed with a thousand other circumstances which accompany it, which because it is altogether disorderly & without bounds Ishal not be able to reduce it to one term or name, nor to give it a definition which Universally comprehendeth all the miseries of this dreadful dwelling, if the curious Reader will not be contented with the Analogy and proportion which it hath with the perpetual Hell. The which being supposed as a thing most proper to a prison, we shall be able to describe it by its properties & by experience, saying, that a prison is no other thing but a land of calamity, adwelling of darkness, a habitation of misery or an eternal horror inhabited without any kind of order. It is a confused Chaos without any distinction, it is a bottomless pit of violence which hath nothing that is in its own centre, it is a tower of Babylon where all speak and none hear, it is a medley against nature, in which is seen the peace and agreement of two contraries, mingling the Noble with the infamous, the rich with the poor, the civil with the criminal, the sinner with the just, it is a commonalty with agreement; one whole by accident, a composition without parts, a Religion without orders or Laws, and a body without a head. The prison is the grave of Noblenesle, the banishment of courtesy, the poison of honour, the centre of infamy, the quintessence of disparagement; the hell of good wits, the snare of pretences, the paradise of cozenage, the martyrdom of innocence, the cloud of truth, the treasure of despair the fining-pot of friendship, the wakener of rage, the bait of impatience, the mine of treasons, a den of Foxes, the refuge of vengeance: the punishment of force, and the headsman of life. There he that yesterday was great, to day is mean; he that was happy in the City, now starveth there; he that was richly clad, is stark naked, he that commanded, obeyeth; he that had his court full of caroches and rich saddles, findeth not now one more to visit him. There civility is turned into insolence, courage to subtlety, shameless outfacing into virtue, blasphemy into valour, flattery into eloquence lies to truth, silence to noise modesty to boldness, knowledge to ignorance, and order to confusion: And to end the misery of that unlucky place: I concludein saying that it is a forest full of wild beasts, in which the one teareth the other, eating his heart and drinking his blood, so that no scruple of conscience, fear of God, suspicion of love, compassion or other respect whatsoever which can have any shadow of virtue or of goodness is able to hinder them. There one weepeth and another singeth, one prayeth and another blasphemeth, one sleepeth, another walketh, one goeth out, another cometh in, one is condemned, another absolved, one payeth, another demandeth, and frnally one shall hardly find two of one exercise and will. One will be eating in a corner, another will piss behind him: and in the middle of them another shall pull off his shirt and strip himself stark naked. Every one is employed in his particular exercise, they not having any other hour or time appointed for that save their will, which being disordered, free in its actions, produceth them without any let or shame. In that which concerneth the sustenance of life, there is no order kept there among them, because that hunger is their appetite, their time of meals always, their table the bare board, their sauce the nastiness and filthy stink, and their music sneesing and belchings. The hang of their chambers are all mourning, with some borders of spiders-cloth (cobwebs), their seats the ground or some stone greased with two inches of fat Bacon. The Dishes where they eat are always enemies to cleanliness, to serve for a potlid and other uses more base, and for spoons they are served with five fingers spotted like jasper, and having their nails of a huge length. As for their drink, the industry of man teacheth them to make a pit in the top of their Hat, and to drink in it more greasethan wine. And if peradventure there be found among them a pot or kettle, it shall be, according to the order and custom of the prison, battered without a handle, nor without varnish, and hath past the first year of apprenticeship, and hath been used in the most base offices, serving for a pisspot, for a Flagon, for a vinegar bottle, for an oile-pot and a basin. As for napkins, they take their skirts, or the outside of their breeches, and for a tablecloth the wrongside of a poor old cloak, threadbare and fuller of Beasts than that linen cloth which S. Peter saw in Damascus. In their garments they keep a great uniformity, going all of them clothed after the manner of Lent, and with S. Augustine's habit, but so tattered and puckered, and so fitted to the passions and necessities of their bodies, so that without breaking their codpiece point they want not a perpetual looseness to satisfy their flux of the belly. They live Apostollically, without scrip without staff and without shoes, having nothing superfluous nor double: contrariwise there is so great simplicity that they cover all their body with one only shirt, where of many times they have no more save the sleeves, and they never leave it off till it can go alone of its own accord. If Momus should come into the prison he could find nothing to reprove them for, because one may see them to the very entrails. The comb, tooth-pickers, brush, handkerchief, lookingglass, sope-balls are banished from this place: of which poverty groweth so great an abundance that in their head, beard, stomach & flanks a camel might be hidden. We cannot say that there is any kind of vices in the prison, because that idleness the mother of them hath no entry there, because they are all careful and watchful to search for that which is necessary for life: and their overplus time they spend in exercising themselves on divers instruments of Music having the itch for the Mistress of that virtue.  
They have also their appointed hours for the military Art, in the which they fight with their bodily enemies, whence they retire evermore with the victory, bearing continually for triumph & trophies the blood on their nails. They live in Evangelicall hope never troubling themselves with the care of that which they should eat or drink to morrow. Their ordinary comfort is the faith and hope which they have to come out of prison one day, and put an end to their miseries. With this comfort they live, ever dying, putting cataracts and deceivable imaginations before the eyes of their reason. And if by chance the time of their imprisonment endeth, and justice giveth assent that some one of them go forth, than the Devil is so careful and so watchful troubling and quelling his liberty, that it seemeth to him there are no gates through which he can get out. One withholds him ask a debt thirty years old, another the succession of one of his grandfathers, and another showeth a band more ancient than the deluge. And when his diligence and means have delivered him from his enemies without, these within doors begin to thunder out another song, for one demandeth of him five shillings which he lent him eleven months ago, another that should pay for a pot which he broke to him, another draweth forth a bill of reckoning, ask him for ten eggs and a salad which he paid for him. This man demandeth that he should pay him the good-morrow's which he hath given him, another the good nights, one asks his Cap, another his Doublet, another his Shoes and all lay hold upon him. And when he escapeth this importunate swarm of Bees, these tunes begin to deaf his ears; the jailer demands of him the rights of the prison, his entrance, his going forth, and the time that he hath tarried there, for his sleeping, his talking, his eating, his sneesing and his coughing, and all the time that he hath lived within there, making more scores in his book than an ginger on the erecting of an Horoscope. And when he hath given him that which he demands of him without reason, he asks his gloves, his jail fees, his slippers, his old shoes and a coif for the maide-servant. The Dog asks him to pay for his watching and barking that he hath kept for him while he slept, the Cat for the pains she hath taken to clear his chamber from Mice and Rats, one pulls him on this side and another on that, and all catch hold of him like briers, while they have left him dry, plucked bare, thronged and as naked as his mother bore him.  
This in brief terms, is the miserable practice of this living pattern of Hell, withal its circumstances, in every one of which there is matter enough to make a long and profound discourse. That the Reader may bethink himself hereof, that being affrighted at the hardness thereof, he may avoid the dangerous inconveniences which are presented every day to a man as long as he is at liberty: for if he fall once into the Devil's hands, and beforced to pass through the wicket of Hell, though his cause were his protector, he should wait for S. Michael; and if justice were his protector, he should ever remain burnt with the mark of Hell, into which who so once entereth, he leaveth the best thing that he hath amongst Pluto's hands. And albeit that he enter there fuller and richer than the Queen of Saba when she came to see King Solomon, he shall come forth more lank, more dry and more feeble than the seven kine that Pharaoh saw in his dreams. (* ⁎ *)   

CHAP. II. Of a pleasant discourse which the Author had in Prison with a famous Thief.  
TO the end that none be deceived with this proverb which most men hold for a Maxim, when they say, That all novelty is well pleasing; because that albeit Logic should not condemn this proposition as false, experience would discover its deceit: for I do not think that there is any one in the world that hath found the prison pleasant, even at the first time that he entered therein. I may say of myself, that when I was there, though it was new to me I found not any thing that I liked; on the contrary, the pleasure which novelties bring with them was turned into notable admiration and extreme pain, seeing that which willingly I would not have seen, and talking of that which least pleased me. I spent the first days even as all those, who enter into that place have been accustomed to pass them, which is to consider the lodgings, to be vexed at the company, and to shun the familiar conversing with the prisoners. And I might have passed all the time of my imprisonment in such like employment, if it had lain in my power to do it, because that the company invited me not to acquaint myself. But the necessity being accompanied with exceeding great curiosity which prisoners have, when any one entereth newly into prison, tied me to frame myself to the usual fashion of these people, from whom I had a sufficient report of the subjects and qualities of that habitation, without other painstaking than to give them the hearing, because that by it a discreet man shall know more sins in four days than a Confessor in a hundreth years. In the conclusion with a fair show and some pieces that I had in my purse I purchased the good will of all the rabble, in such sort, that there was not any man of what rank soever who did not esteem much of me, & participated not with me the most inward of his conscience. But the continual company of this tedious conversation troubled me, in such sort that I was not mine own, nor had I the liberty to spend one quarter of an hour by myself alone. So lessayed by a thousand means to rid myself from the headstrong importunities of those undiscreet people, but it was not possible for me to free myself, without taking the office that I had got over them. Wherefore I was desirous to try, if in this martyrdom, seeing I deserved no such thing, I could find some pleasure to divert my mind and entertain them. So continuing my no less accustomed than troublesome occupation, sitting one day upon a bench which was in the Chapel of the prison, in the company of three or four of these gallants, hearing some difficulties, whereof they were come to consult with me upon the ten Commandments, I heard the Echo of a sorrowful voice, which called me pitifully. All the standers by were amazed; one of them ran to be informed of this unlooked-fornewes, but the speedy haste of him, which sought for me, prevented the curiosity of him who was gone out to know the news; for scarcely had we heard the voice, when after it, entered at the door one of my religious followers (held in great esteem amongst those people who were none of the holiest) with his colour changed, his visage bathed with tears, without a Hat, his arms crossed, sighing and beseeching with great humility the company, that they would let him be alone with me, amplifying his request by the shortness of time, as the principal remedy of mishap. They departed the place, and he seeing himself alone and with freedom to discover his thoughts to me, without any other preface, preamble, advertisement or courtesy, he said to me.  
Sir, to day is my feast day, and they have made me a gift of a clerk of a harbour, with a Cardinal's Hat: what remedy shall I be able to find for so great a mischief. Verily this dark speech of his words, together with the manner of telling it, held me somewhat in doubt, because I knew not how to comment upon so uncouth a language followed with so many sighs and groans. Nevertheless making a little stay at these words and already guessing that which it might be, I believed that he had got this hat at some pot of wine, and that out of the abundance thereof this noble dignity had climbed up to the head. So smiling I said to him: My friend, the Post that hath brought you this news, is he of a dozen or of twenty? It is not of twelve, nor offoure, unhappy man that I am! answered he, for I am not drunk, nor ever was I in all my life-time, and would to God that all the world were so retired in this action as I am: but as the Proverb saith, some have the name, the others have the effect. And you do not well to make a poor unhappy wretch that asks your counsel in his extreme affliction. His answer to the purpose redoubled my astonishment, and not being able to hit at that which this might mean, I said to him somewhat in anger; Make an end then to relate to me the cause of your pain, and hold me no more in doubt with your dark speeches or riddles. Now I know, Sir, said he, that ye have not studied Martial terms, nor you understand not as yet Galunatias his stile, so it will be hard for you to understand the coming together of two  bodies with the perspective of red flowers in a white field. From this second answer I fully resolved that he was not drunk, but foolish, and as to such a one, I agreed with him to all that he said, although I understood him never a whit. And taking the subject to reason with him upon the same reasons, I asked him, who made him a Cardinal and why? To which he answered me thus. You should understand that some officers of the three and of the five of Topo & Tango upon the Seventh and the Go met me one Sunday at midnight and finding me with the As de bastons the lot would that they should run a hazard, 
These thievish words of the trade are afterward made clear.  and I remained with the money. They were deceived, and desiring to revenge their wrong, they went to Scipion, declaring an Universal head which they had seen in my hands, upon which they made long informations by the Signevers aequinoctials: and at the end of a rigorous examination which they had of me, they found me not good enough to be Pope, they left me the office of a Cardinal. You ought to account yourself happy, I answered him, having so great a dignity, seeing that few obtain it, and these with great pains and travel. I would quite it, withal my heart, saith he, and that without pension, if any one would receive it for me, and I would moreover bind myself to him to pay for the seals, because to speak the truth, it is a charge too heavy for me, and he that gives it, hath not any good reputation among the people, nor many friends in the City; and this is the cause that I make no great account of it. And do not think that in saying, that I will no ways accept of it, I can help myself of this pain: for it is not in my power, nor in theirs who receive the like charges to be able to refuse them, since dignities are bestowed by deservings, and albeit that men refuse them, they are made to take them by force, that no man may refuse them nor make resistance by too great humility, they bind it upon him as if he were a fool. Truly my friend, said I then to him, you ought to account yourself happy and very fortunate, for such an election, this being supposed that it is made for deserving, and not for favour. Very fortunate, saith he, assuredly I am, howbeit an unworthy sinner, but nowise happy, for if I were, I should not be very fortunate. With this answer I began to see clearly, that he was neither foolish nor drunk: but that dissembling he covered his words of this his chatting, and resolute to leave him with his— I rise speaking to him some harsh words, to which he answered with great humility, saying, Sir I beseech you to stay your choler a little: for it is not without a mystery, that I have spoken to you in a riddle, and believe me that in this I have had no other intention, but to hid my mishaps from some— who usually watch harkening after the life of another, to report them to their copsemates. But now seeing that I can utter it to you without fear I will explain myself, being well assured that a man of so good a wit as you are, will not be offended to hear my weakness, and will not deny me your good counsel which out of your charity I promise to myself. So know that Cardinal is that which to day at noon one hit me over the shoulders: The Clerk of harbour he that receiveth such as are condemned to the Galleys: those of three, are some of our company, are some that watch the street, when any theft is committed, and these have the third part: Those of Five are some honourable persons, or at least held for such by the common people, who hid and keep the theft in their house, and for that the fifth part is given to them. Now you shall know that by misliking I being one night in a list that was made, the booty was so little, that there was not whereof to make neither fourth nor fifth, and I being the man that put himself in greatest danger I was willing to go away with all, promising to redress the bygone fault in another more gainful occasion. Those of Seven, and Go, I will tell my companions found not this satisfaction to the purpose, which I gave them, because that absolutely they would have their share. I seeing that it was altogether impossible, for that I had already eaten it, turned the process to a quarrel, and laying hold on a baton which is the As that you have heard, gave one of them a sound blow over the head, who seeing himself wounded, and his companions cheated, went to S. Scipion who is the Major, and accused me that I was a thief at Crotchet, which is an instrument wherewith we open all manner of doors, and following the accusation they made me be laid up in prison. The Lords of the Court, whom we call aequinoctials, 
To be whipped at the Carts-taile.  condemned me to go the accustomed rounds about the streets, and afterwards to serve his Majesty in the Galleys of Marseilles. Which execution should be made this same day at noon; I tremble because ten a clock is struck already. If ye have any remedy to give me, ye will do a great work of mercy, because I fear that the Hangman having stripped me, 
Burned on the shoulders.  and finding five marks about me which were unjustly given me, doubtless he will make me take a shorter journey. The wretch had proceeded thus far with the explaining of dark speech, ere ever I could break off his discourse, so great was the astonishment which his entangled metaphors left me in, & ending his story with a deep sigh, which came from his very soul, he fell half dead between my arms. He being come to himself again, I began to comfort him the best I possibly could, counselling, for the last remedy to appeal to the Court, hoping always for more mercy, from the highest seat of justice, than from the inferior judges Scarcely had I ended my words but three or four of his companions, dying for laughter entered at the Chapel door, saying to him that the news which they had told him were false, and those lashes were imaginary, that it was a trick of his enemies maliciously invented to trouble and vex him. With this news the poor wretch came again so suddenly to his first estate, that save there remained some remembrance of his first taking it to heart, he cut more than five and twenty capers in the air, with a thousand turn of good liking, and his companions began to play upon him, in which he paid them home their change, with so witty answers, that he left me a great desire, to keep him with me all alone, and at leisure to know at length his vocation and office, and the clearing of some obscure words which he usually mingled in his discourse; so I entreated him, but he knowing that I had such a desire, in requital of the patience with which I had heard him, and of the good counsel, which I had given him in his need, he promised to give me a good account of his life, of his parent's life, and the changeable successes which happened to him in his trade; with all particulars which could be learned amongst those of his office, & having appointed me a place at two in the afternoon, we went to dinner. (* ⁎ *)   

CHAP. III. To whom the Thief relateth the Nobleness and Excellency of Theft.  
THe good Andrew (for so he was called) was not at all slothful to be at the place appointed, nor to declare to me the History which I had requested with so great a desire: for half an hour before that, which we had appointed, I found that he waited for me with extreme impatience and so great, that almost without saluting me, he began to relate his History, saying. Know, Sir, that if from the time of your birth ye should have gone searching through all the. Universities of the world for some one, who with more ground, experience & learning than I could inform you of that which ye desire to know, it were impossible to find him: seeing that in this which toucheth (and let this be spoken without vanity) the understanding of the riddles of Mercury Trismegstus, and other dark Philosophers, and to be, as they say, of the right hair and feathers, I will not yield it to any man in the world. With this and other secrets reserved to my own only discretion I have found out the Philosopher's stone and the true Elixir of life, with which I turn poison into medicine, the course cloth into cloth of gold, and hunger into fullness and satiety more than sufficient, without putting any thing to it of my goods, save the turning of a hand. I do not deal as a thousand other ignorant people of our days, who being blinded by the gainful end which the practice of the great Philosophers-stone promiseth them do adventure rashly to spend all to find nothing, & to undo a hundred thousand effences to find one fifth both uncertain and false, whose excess and curiosity have none other end but infamy, misery and poverty, and finally a shameful death: for as much as those who have consumed their own goods and the goods of their friends, to search for that which they have not found, utter their rage with strokes of hammers upon the seven metals, which are the cause of their overthrow. And which is worse, with all the trials and unhappy ends of Alchemists, there is not any man to whom curiosity will not awaken the appetite, and provoke the will every time that he heareth any man talk of this art. Mine is not of this kind, and therefore less subject to the fancies and idle imaginations of Gebor Arnaut, Raymond Lul and other great Advancers of the art, whose knowledge consisteth in not to be understood; it is easy, plain and without any mixture. Nevertheless be who he will that shall exercise it, it is necessary that he be wise, prudent and well advised, because that wanting or failing in one whatsoever it be of these things, a man shall easily lose in an instant all that he hath gained in all his life. This noble art also hath not Aristotle's principles, because that as well he as all others that follow him, imagined that nothing could be made of nothing: this being true that in this our Art, all things are made of nothing; and if we may attribute any principle of them which he propoundeth in his Physics, it is the privation only, seeing that from it alone we come to the possession of infinite wealth. As for our tools, I confesse there are some, forasmuch as there is notrade that can be without them, but nevertheless they are so easy & so cheap, that we well nigh make them ourselves, after they are made, they last time out of mind. The ground then to busy one of our trade, is only the good courage and sound disposition of his body and limbs, and with this alone a man becometh his crafts-master, without any other ornament— And do not think that this Art, having so poor a beginning as nothing, is shameful or infamous, for it is the most noble, the 〈…〉 absolute and the most privileged of all those that are in the world, so fare forth that acknowledgeth nor respecteth neither King nor knave, nor careth it for all the Monarches of the earth, nor for the ecclesiastic power, nor for the Secular: but rather all pay tribute and travels for him. Its fields are fruitful in dry grounds, it gathers the fruit without sowing, it hath no traffic with any, and demands of all, it dareth to no body, and all are indebted to it, its harvests grow without rain, and there is not any thing whereof it taketh not the tithes. There cometh not any fleet from the Indies, nor great ship from the Levant, whereof it not make show to be partner, there is not a Guine Merchant, that is not its debtor, and finally, it catcheth up all. And which ought to be most valued in this precious Art, is the great case with which it is exercised, in which it exceeds all other Arts, that are till these our times found out in the world, the end of which is contrary to that of this, because that is perfected in the doing, this in undoing, and to undo being more easy than to do (as the Philosopher saith) doubtless it is but that our Art is easier than all others whose end is obtained with great pains, travels and difficulties.  
Honest Andrew had proceeded further in the praises and excellency of his trade, if I had not broke him off with an extreme impatience, the titles of honour and nobleness which he gave it seeming to me altogether improper, as well for that it is of itself imfamous, as for the innumerable dangers which usually happen to them, who undertake such like traffics: wherefore I said to him; I do not know, Andrew, how nor by what reason you yourself reckon up to me these Arts so noble, so easy and so profitable, seeing that you have related to me the perilous extremities in which you have been, which your poverty and calamity assure me to be of little profit & of great misery which is therein, that makes me to marvel very much at your persevering in your unhappy trade, ere you were made wise by the experiences past. You have reason (he answered) and I confess that many hazards and disgraces light upon us, but one Ox eateth more than a hundred Larks, I will say that one good encounter shoulders out many disgraces, which have not in so great number as you think, and though they were, it is not possible for us to give over this trade but by death, because this Art hath I cannot tell what with it, that it is like one sick of the Dropsy, who the more he drinks the more he thirsts, and of one only act there becometh a habit, qui difficilè removetur a subjecto, which is hardly removed from the subject. And I know well that you will like my doctrine well, being so learned a man as you are, seeing they are accustomed to dispute among the Philosophers if this maxim of Aristotle (who saith Expluribus actibus generatur habitus, of many actions is begot a habit) be Universally true. And some say that of one only action a habit may be bred, which should be understood of moral actions, and those of worse sort: I will affirm that to breed a continual custom in sinning, one only action is sufficient: but to do well, there is need of many. The reason is clear, for that the will of man being disposed to sin, because it is called foams peccati, the fuel of sin, and for the miseries drawn upon it in its conception, one action alone leaveth in it a certain inward disposition with which it becometh easy, and disposed to like actions; but the desire being so marred, corrupt and ill disposed to receive virtue, there needeth not only one virtuous action, but many, if any disposition or custom of doing well should remain after it. By which you may judge that albeit a thousand disgraces fall upon us it were almost impossible for us to forsake our trade, nor change our life, having already turned it into a nature, and if this should be done, it should be needful to make the world a new again, more or less all wool is hair, we are all of us of one brotherhood, no man is content with his state, he that hath most desireth more, that which costeth little agreeth best with us, and all (as the Proverb goeth) like well.  
But mishap be to that infortunate man who payeth for all; for as the Proverb saith, the Gallows are for all such, we rubbe all men, and for those sins some are hanged, others are rich. Happy are they who rob Hippocrates-like, I will speak as the Physicians, whose faults the earth covereth, so that no man is able to accuse them, nor ask restitution of his life, and of the money which they have publicly robbed and in the view of all the world. And though some of these be spiritual men, others temporal, notwithstanding all meet in the same way, and shoot at one mark: for there be also horseleeches which suck the world sweetly, and wring their neck, with a sad dumpish countenance, and a fair show colour their ambitious designs with godly words. And for them, it is said in the Proverb, the Devil is behind the Cross. There are others also, who though they wring not the neck, nor speak so much of God, apply nevertheless the jurisdiction of their offices in favour of him that giveth them most; who being laped in long wide gowns making them to be respected there is not a man that dare to give them a word, nor show by any sign the evil satisfaction that they have by them: but the wretched person that neither hath God in his mouth, nor bark wherewith to hid himself, if he be not very wise & prudent all the persecutions of the world hang about him at once, all men spit in his face, and he is the mark of all the abuses in the world: wherefore blame not our Art before you understand it; for you should so offend all the world & perhaps yourself, sigh no man liveth without fault. How much more if you knew what sweetness there is to gather the fruit where one hath not planted, and to find the in gathering in his garner & in his cellar, himself having neither field nor vineyard, you would even lick your fingers at it. Is this a small matter I pray you, that a man riseth in the morning not having penny nor farthing, nor knowing yet whence to have it for to nourish his family, and yet ere night he is worth ahundred crowns, & knoweth not whence they came? Is this a small matter in greatest sloth and necessity to find apparel cut and slashed without paying either for stuff or making? Is there any such Nobleness in the world, as to be a Gentleman without rents, and to have other men's goods so his own, as that he may dispose of them at his will, without costing him any more but to take them? Do you think it a small matter to be a Merchant without a stock, to gain two hundreth for nothing, without crossing the seas, going to fair or market, not caring if the Merchant turn bankrupt, if the year be barren or plentiful, if wares be dear or cheap? And if ye will take our trade by way of reputation or credit, doth it seem a small thing to you, to find one who will insure us our life, whatsoever we do, and to have at our beck some judges, who save us from the lash from the Galleys, from torture & from the Gallows only with a single & wel-assured promise to satisfy them with the gain of our next theft? And that they do this not only for us, but for our friends, kindred and acquaintance? Abuse not yourself, and acknowledge that there is no life more assured in this world than ours, for instead of one displeasure that we have, there are infinite pleasures and contentments to be enjoyed. And lo thus much for my profession and trade. * ⁎ *   

CHAP. FOUR To him the Thief relateth the life and death of his Parents and the first disgrace that befell him.  
AS for my race, you shall know that I am a man borne of a woman, in a town of this world, whose name I lost in a sickness which I had in the year six hundred and four. My, father was called Peter and my mother Hope, people, though mean, honourable and virtuous, of good reputation and praiseworthy manners. And as for the goods of fortune, they were not so great, that they were able to give bribes, nor marry Orphans out of their means, nor so mean, that they obliged themselves to ask alms, nor to subject themselves to any man, but they were people that knew how to live, and that had bread to eat, and clothes to put on. In all the course of their life there was nothing found that they could be reproached for, nor whereof they could be reproved, because they heeded no other thing (particularly my mother) but to keep their honour and the good esteem which they had gained, for which and for the free doom and fair conditions of their proceed and conversation, all the world honoured and loved them. But as virtue is ordinarily envied, and honest people persecuted, there was no want of malicious and wicked people, who by false and rash calumnies darkened the brightness and glistering of their good works & the cleannesses of their life. They were accused (I say) to have rob a Church, to have spoiled the Vestry with the ornaments and chalices, and which is worse, to have cut off S. Bartholomews' hand, who was upon an Altar, which they said was of silver. An accusation as malicious as false, especially, for my mother's part, whose devotion towards the Saints was so great, that when she went to Church, if my father had not pulled her out by the hair, or the Sexton had not shut the door against her, there was no means to make her come out of the Church, although she had been three days without meat, and her devotion was so known to all the people, that she never came forth to the street, but a thousand folk prayed her to say some Ave Maria for women with child, sick and other afflicted persons, having all of them great faith in her prayers. But as there are traitors enough to condemn a just man, and in this age innocency serveth to no purpose, if it be not favoured, for so much as the Laws go as it pleaseth Kings, it came to pass that notwithstanding the reproaches which they gave in against the witnesses, more than sufficient to refute the malice of the accusers, and to manifest the innocence of the accused, they condemned them to die, and together with them a brother of mine, and my mother's Nephew. Verily the case was strange and scandalous, though false, and their death unjust: but whatsoever the cause I do not envy them the profit, which let them eat with their bread, they shall not go to Rome for penance, for there is a God in the world that seethe all things, and seeing he punisheth that he will not suffer one hair of the just to perish, it belongs to him to avenge the wrong done to his servants, for so I may call them, yea even Martyrs, sigh they constantly, suffered death for the love of God, they being accused of faults which they had not committed. A trick, finally that they being poor, they were constrained to pay with their life, that which they were not able with their goods. I only may praise myself that I found some mercy with the judges, in consideration of my young years, and of the small experience that I had; yet the favour they shown me, was a grace with sin: because justice left me my life, with condition that I should be the executioner of these Martyrs. I was very unwilling and did all I could, not to commit so execrable a crime as that is, to take away their lives that had given me mine: but it was impossible to excuse me, but by losing my life with them. Wherefore I considering that a nother would do that, which I refused, and of the other side the persuasion of my friends who with a great charge upon my conscience, counselled me to do it, that so the whole kindred of my parents should not be lost, and that there should remain some one in the world who might pray for them; I put on a resolution to do that which for any other respect I would never have done. But this is my comfort, which is not a little one to me, that my father gave me his blessing at the hour of his death forgiving me all that I could have committed in this world, against the respect and reverence, which I owed him, giving me also some wholesome counsels, and recommending to me virtue and the fear of God, above all that I should ever strive to be like my parents and that I should show myself such a one as those of whom I was descended. With these reasons and some others I remained greatly comforted, and resolved to end my prison with their life. I was left an Orphan, young, alone, or ill accompanied, and without counsel, without knowing what side to turn me to, for to maintain that life which these gentlemen had left me, because that the cockering and good cheer in which my mother had bred me, had been the especial cause of my undoing, she suffering me to live idly and lazily.  
Nevertheless I seeing that the memory of the good past brought me no profit, and that if I should live and eat bread it ought to be with the sweat of my brows, I determined to look out for a master whom I might serve, or some handie-crafts-man with whom I might learn some trade, which was all in vain, because that the accident of my parents being in fresh memory, and their infamy yet late, I found not one that would receive me into his house, nay not so much as to be a groom of his stable: wherefore I was forced to leave the country, and to go try my fortunes in a strange country. What country is that (I asked him then) in which your parents dwelled, because if I be not deceived in the discourse of your relation, you have changed its right name as also its surname, and your own? Command me not, I beseech you, answered he, to break a solemn oath which we of our profession have made amongst ourselves, which is never to reveal to any man our own country, nor our parent's name, this being supposed that it availeth little to the truth of my history to know it, and though it seemeth to you that it is no mystery to conceal it, believe me you aredeceived for so much that thereiss nothing more dangerous in our Art, than to tell a man's true name, as well as of his country, as of his baptism, seeing that as you know, albeit we be fallen a thousand times into the hands of justice, and that we be as many times convicted of some crime, we only changing our name, we ever make it appear that this is the first time that we have been taken, and the first crime whereof we have ever been accused, and no man knowing the name of our parents, nor of our country they cannot be informed of our lives & manners, nor our parents receive any shame from our disgrace seeing that as you may oftentimes have seen, when they condemn a man the first words of his sentencesay; such a one, of such a place, the son of such a man & such a woman is condemned to be whipped or hanged such a day, month and year, from which proceedeth nothing else, but sorrow to him that dyeth, and dishonour to his parents. If this be so (said I to him) you have reason to hid it, & this being supposed that is not for your avail to telit, & it availeth not me to know it, let us leave it, and follow your History. It fell out then (said he) that about four leagues from the place of my birth, I put myself apprentice to a Shoemaker, it seeming to me to be the most gainful of all trades, especially in France, where all those that walk go at it were post, even as if justice were running after them, and where all Shoe themselves against nature, that which is contained being greater than that which containeth that is to say, the foot greater than the shoe, whence it falleth out that the shoes last a very short while. I opened then mine eyes thither and bend my mind to this trade for that beside the gain it was the most easy. But as from my infancy my parents had taught me to rip, it was not possible for me so suddenly to change the habit which I had already, turned into nature, and so six weeks past ere I could learn to set one right stitch. From this ignorance my Master took occasion to disdain me, breaking some lasts on my head, to see if they could leave some impression beside the continual abstinence with which he punished me, some of his friends having said to him that it was a singular remedy— and quicken my wit. This life seemed not good to me nor to be desired, wherefore I resolved to forsake it, and lay out for another more peaceable, knowing particularly in myself some motions of Nobleness, which inclined me to things higher and greater than to make shoes, wherefore I conclude with myself to search all means possible to bring me into the house of some man of quality and rich, being assured that with the fair conditions and readiness that I had, my service should be wellpleasing to my Master. Verily the resolution was good, and the thoughts honourable and noble; but so lame, maim and without force for want of means, and apparel to setthem forward seeing that it is most certain, that if with my hands waxed, my apron and other marks of a Shoemaker I should have presented myself at the gate of some Knight, they would not have suffered me to enter  
This difficulty held me some few days in perplexity without knowing how to enter upon my enterprises, notwithstanding making a virtue of necessity, being vexed at the miserable life which I led, I determined to draw Physic out of the disease, and honey from the Bees stings, and endeavouring to revenge myself on the Spainsh leather and all shoemakers. To this effect there came a notable boldness in my mind, yea and profitable enough and sure, if fortune who then was my enemy had not overthrown my designs and myinventions, I considered that if I stole any thing out of the house, my shift should have been discovered in an instant, and I as a stranger and friendless, been ill dealt withal, particularly, with the hatred which my Master bare towards me, & the harshness with which they are wont to punish household thefts in France. So rising on Friday morning early than I had been accustomed, rubbing my hands with wax and also my face, I went with my apron girt to me, and my hands all bedaubed, to run through all the shops of the town, especially those that were best acquainted with my Master, and telling to every one that were in the shops, that the Gentleman stayed at my Masters for a pair of boots of the eights, to put them on incontinent, I asked for one boot to try if it would fit him that desired them. None made any difficulty to give me it, thinking that a man could not be served with one boot alone, otherwise the most part of the shoemakers knew me, and these who had never seen me were in a minute so well satisfied with my presence, that if the first finder out of the trade had come, they could not have given him more credit. With this invention I went almost through all the shops of the town, ever heeding to ask for a boot of the same size, and last that the first was of: And the invention fell out so to the purpose, and with so great ease that in half an hour's space, I gathered me then two hundred boots all of one size, and of one fashion, which having tied up in a sack, I laid them on my shoulders and betook me to the way. The fact lay dead without suspicion almost two hours, but seeing that I came not bacl again, norreturned the boots which I had carried away, nor took that which I had left, all of them suspected that which truly fell out. And so this time being past, moe than a hundred apprentices were at the door where I dwelled, every one ask for his boot, which my Master and some few of his neighbours, who loved me not very well, seeing they told the justice, who dividing themselves through the three gates of the City, met me not very fare from one of them, because the weight of my burden suffered me not to get out of fight as I could have wished. They brought me bacl to the town, and proceeding against me for the fact yet hot and fresh in mind, they condemned me to walk four hours through the accustomed streets (that is to be scourged) with three year's banishment.   

CHAP. V Of the first Thief that was in the world and whence theft had its beginning.  
ALthough this noble Art had no other excellency but the antiquity of its beginning and the Nobleness of the first finder out thereof, it might suffice to the end that every good wit should approve it for to be the most Noble of all those which are practised at this day in the world, the first inventour thereof was one of the fairest Angels that was, whose beauty, dignity and greatness was so extolled and high, that the most curious of his perfection found no other title more proper to exalt him than that of the Morning Star, Governor of the dawning of the day, the Sun's Ambassador. This than was the first Thief that was in the world, or before the world, if it be true that the Angels were created before time, who overcome by an ambitious desire, adventured rashly to rob God of his glory. But he was degraded because justice took him in the fact, and seizing upon all the goods that he had, condemned him to perpetual prison, and together with him all his associates.  
The second Thief that ever was in the world was our first father Adam, as bold as the Angel, yet not so blameworthy for being not so malicious in his sin, and of less knowledge, albeit I cannot be persuaded that he was ignorant of the obedience, which he owed to his Creator, having knowledge infused in him. Nevertheless overcome by the importunate reasons of his wife, and tormented with an ambitious curiosity he was desirous to steal the knowledge and wisdom of God. But it fell out as badly to him as to the Angel, so that his fleeing and hiding himself served him to no purpose, for the judge having asked him, and he not being able to deny the fact, for that he was taken in the fault, his state of innocence and original justice was taken away, he and all his race remaining condemned to spend their life with sweat, travel and mishaps, and his wife to bring forth her children with sorrow. And if you ask me why God did not equally punish these two thiefs, being guilty of treason, and having attempted one and the same kind of theft which is the divine perfection. It was to this purpose that I have heard spoken by a great doctor and Preacher of the Church; because if God had punished man with the same rigour that he punished the Angel withal, he had destroyed an entire nature, seeing that all men sinned in Adam & so the world had remained imperfect. But in punishing the Angel, this inconvenience followed not, because many other Angels remained in heaven, and all the nature of Angels sinned not, and this is the cause why God was not so severe to man as to the Angels: but you shall better learn this curiosity from some other, who knoweth it better than I do. It is sufficient that those aforesaid Thiefs were the first that brought theft into credit in the world. And we cannot say, that poverty and necessity stirred them up to steal, because the first was the noblest and mightiest of all the Angels, and the second was the first of all men, King of the living creatures, and absolute Lord of the earth. From thence is brought in the deceit which to the day, this world seethe, believing that poverty was the finder out of theft, seeing it is riches and prosperity, because the love & desire of honour and riches groweth so much the more as it is increased, as a Poet saith very well. Ambition being an unsatiable fire, in which how much more wood is laid, so much the more it is inflamed, and a Dropsy, in which the more one drinketh, the more he thirsteth. Even so in those great thiefs, the great riches and prosperity which they had, was the cause of their unruly appetite, and unsatiable ambition, for that they desiring that which they had not, they could not attempt any other theft, but the glory and wisdom of God, seeing they possessed all the rest. Whence you shall understand, that to steal and rob is in a sort natural to man, and that it goeth by inheritance, and propagation in all the lineage of men, and not by cunning. For if it be true that we all are partakers of Adam's sin, his sin being nothing else but to rob God of his knowledge, it is evident, that there is in us an inclination, disposition and natural desire to rob and steal. From Adam this profession was extended to all his posterity, being always kept on foot amongst the most noble and best qualified of all his children. So Cain, as jealous of this original virtue, would needs steal from his brother Abel the grace and particular favour with which God received his oblations and sacrifices. jacob cunningly robbed the blessing from his brother Esau, and it went well with him. David the wife of Vriah. Achab though himself a rich King stole Naboths Vineyard. And finally Nimrod by theft subdued all the Inhabitants of Assyria. And if leaving these and other Thiefs almost innumerable, which holy writing relate unto us, we take the examples that humane histories rehearse unto us, we shall see that this singular Art hath been always preserved among the Nobility, sigh Paris stole Helen, ravished before that by Theseus; The same Theseus stole Ariadne, and jason Medea. The Lacedæmonians, of whose policy and good government Plutarch maketh honourable mention had this laudable and virtuous custom of stealing, and he that was most cunning and subtle in that Art, was in greatest account and estimation amongst them. The very mothers taught their children, while they were but little ones, to steal, holding it for an infallible point of policy, that they could never be good and brave soldiers, if they had not been cunning and well experienced thiefs. I will not tarry now to tell the name and reputation which Vircat got himself by his thefts, nor the renown which Crocota deserved by them in the time of Augustus Caesar, for I should never have done. * ⁎ *   

CHAP. VI The thief followeth his history proving that all men of what quality so ever are Thiefs.  
THis Noble profession of stealing hath evermore (as I have said) been held in high esteem amongst the greatest and best qualified men of the world: but as there is no kind of virtue nor nobleness, which is not envied by the vulgar, it became in time so ordinary & common that there was not so very a Butcher or Porter who would not imitate the Nobility in their thefts. Whence and from the little discretion and exceeding great boldness that then was amongst people, it was one time so disdained and disliked that those who did openly follow it, were punished with shameful pains and accounted infamous. But as all things of the world have their contrary weights; time would needs find a remedy for this abuse, seeking means to steal without punishment, and so disguised, that not only theft seemed not vice, but was esteemed a rare and singular virtue. To this end many brave spirits invented the diversity of Offices and charges which to this day are exercised in the world, every one of which serveth for a mask or cloak to make his harvest and enrich himself with another man's goods. And to the end that you may not judge my words rash, nor my proposition too bold, run, I pray you, over all states that are in the Commonwealth, and you shall find that we all are the children of Adam. For I thus argue. That man that hath an Office of a thousand Crowns of rent, without any other living, pension or patrimony, & holds a house for which he pays eight hundreth Crowns a year, keeps a horse & two Pages and a footman, his wife and two waiting Gentlewomen, his children and a Master to teach them, who to keep all this train hath need of more than a thousand crowns every year, yet notwithstanding with all this charge he is found at the years end with two suits of apparel, free from debts & with five hundreth crowns of gain, and yet it reigned no more on his field than on other men's, nor hath he inherited any thing of any of his parents or friends. Ergo a Thief. A Tailor that eats more than it cost him, and at six year's end gives ten thousand crowns portion in marriage with his daughter, never meddling with other trade save his needle and his shears. Ergo a Thief. A Shoemaker that keeps six apprentices in his shop, and works but four days a week; and those not wholly at three year's end that two tenements builded in the fairest streets of the town, every one of which is worth two him three hundreth pounds of yearly rent, without any other stock, but that of his leather Ergo a Thief. The Clerk who for every sheet of paper that he writes hath but a shilling, and who writes scarcely, six months of the whole year, which are hardly ended but he is seen to have his Velvet stools, damask courtains, silke-hanging, and other rich ornaments, which never came to him by heritage. Ergo a Thief. Of the same kind you shall find in all Offices giving you to understand, that I do not speak here of the good and honest, but of the lewd and base sort, who blinded with profit and gain tread under their feet the fear of God, the love of their neighbour, and the truth of their own conscience (who force the poor and needy to take six pence for that, which they sell in their shops for twelve pence) & it is, I say, of those by whom the evils, that I have mentioned aught to be understood. And by reason that the great attention with which you do hearken to my reasons, discovereth the desire that you have to know all that can be said upon this subject, I will show briefly the invention and deceits which the naughty Tradesmen use for to rob and steal.  
The Tailor stealeth ask a third part more of cloth, than there needeth to make a suit of: and when he that putteth it out to making, presuming to be wise enough for the Tailor, would be by to see it cut, he vexeth him, and casts a mist over his eyes marking four hours along the piece and overthwart, and when he hath at last dazzled him with a great many strokes and lines with his chalk, he throweth a false ply under the shears with which at the cutting of a pair of breeches one breech abideth with him for his gain, besides buttons, silk, lace, and linings.  
The linen Weaver stealeth in ask more yarn than the web hath need of, laying fifty els instead of five and forty and with the remainder of many broken threads he pincheth out the length, which makes worth to him the eight part, all which he stealeth.  
The Cord wainer restoreth with his teeth that which he stealeth with his— biting and drawing thin the leather, so that of one pair of shoes which one giveth him to make, there resteth to him at least an upper leather or a heel for a third. And if the leather be his own, he sets on a rotten sole with rotten thread, to the end it may be the sooner spoiled and fall off, which I think but stealing.  
The Physician and the Chirurgeon both steal, the one appointing and th'other applying plasters, which feed the disease and make it worse to the end that the time of the cure continning long, the fees may be the greater and the more.  
The Apothecary stealeth with a quid pro quo— putting in one drug for another, and taking that which is cheapest, not considering what humour should be purged, and what virtue the drug hath which he applieth, in which he stealeth the honour and reputation of the Physician, and the sick persons life. And if haply any call for an oil which he hath not, he will not fail to give of that which he hath for oil of— or other costly oil which any shall have asked them, that they may not lose the credit of their shop.  
The Merchant stealeth in putting out his money upon use, taking more than the statute alloweth, and writing down in his book such a debt, which, it may be, shall be thrice paid,  
The Notary stealeth with an (etc. Et coetera) a whole Lordship, and if there be a question of any criminal process, the Scrivener for money that he shall take of a forfeit, will sell the soul of the poor innocent.  
The Counsellor & the Attorney steal selling a thousand lies to the poor client, making him to understand, that he shall win his cause, albeit they see clearly that he hath no right at all; and many times it falleth out that the Lawyer agreeth with another to sell the parties right and part the gain between them.  
The judge stealeth justice from this man, having pity on him, who by some bribe shall have already corrupted him, wresting violently the texts of Bartole and Baldus for his own profit.  
The Drugster and other Merchants, that sell by weight steal, putting under the scale a very thin plate of lead, where they put that which they would weight, with which they show that there is more than weight, albeit there be many ounces, and when they do not that, with their little finger they touch the tongue of the balance with which they make the scale sway to what side they will.  
The Vintner stealeth a hundreth thousand ways, mixing and blending one wine with another, beside the water that he putteth amongst it, and when his wine by the force of so much mingling and watering hath his strength, he hangeth amongst the lees a little bag full of Cloves, Pepper, Ginger and other spices, with which he makes it still seem to be good.  
The Butcher also stealeth blowing up his meat with a Cane, that so they may seem the bigger, and that he may sell them at a dearer rate than they are worth.  
The Treasurer stealeth the third part, yea the half of a pension, when a poor needy man asketh him, because that he, who should receive it, being drowned in debt or charged with some urgent necessity, denieth not to give the half, nor makes he any conscience to demand it.  
The Marshal stealeth taking a poor harmless man, and laying him in hold never telling him for what, and at the end of three or four days that he keepeth him in a chain, sends a Devil of those that belong to the prison, to tell him that he is accused for making of false coin, and that there are ten witnesses who have given evidence against him: but that for the respect of some of his friends, he will set him at liberty some evening, if he will give him a hundreth Crowns to give content to the witnesses, and to make them in some sort to hold their tongues, whereby the poor wretch being sore affrighted, selleth all to the shirt on his back to be rid of so great affliction.  
The Courtier stealeth the report of a favourite, ascribing to himself that which another receiveth: because being loaded with feathers, brusling up himself, poised and straighter than a spindle he goeth to the Court, and hearing, at the gate, or in the Court-yarde where the Pages wait, some news, he returneth to see his friends, and gives them to understand, that the King drew him aside, speaking secretly to him two hours, and amongst other things he told the news that he brings.  
The Perfumer stealeth mingling the perfumes and multiplying the Musk with a Cow's liver rofted, the Amber-grees with soap and sand, and the Sivet with some Butter.  
The Priest stealeth, saying four Masses instead of forty for which he hath been paid beside the money that he receives for yearly Masses for the dead, Answers and other duties which he never remembers.  
The Religious (Monks and Friars) steal whole patrimonies, assaulting with a grave countenance and a wry neck a poor sick man at the point of death, and laying before him a mountain of doubts and burdens of conscience, turning and stirring them up to pious deeds, applying to their own Monastery all that which he was bound to restore, without ever making any scruple of conscience to leave half a dozen of Orphans defeated of their inheritance, and the sick man's wife to live upon alms.  
The Preacher stealeth, picking from S. Thomas and S. Austin the best of their works, and having rob them to their very thoughts, felleth in the Pulpit their doctrine as though it were his own making himself the inventor and author of that which belongeth not unto him.  
The Blind man stealeth the half of every song that he singeth, because that having received money from him that biddeth him sing, and it seeming to him that he is gone from him three or four paces, he beginneth again his first tune, and asketh a new that some body would make him sing another.  
The Beggar stealeth telling a thousand lies to him that giveth the alms, saying that he hath been rob, that he hath been sick, that his father is in prison, and counterfeiting himself lame, with which he pulleth from men their alms.  
Finally, all do steal, and every handicraft's man hath his own invention and particular subtlety to this effect: but seeing there is no rule foe general, that hath not its exception, we may exclude from the number of Thiefs all those that have a good conscience, as footmen, Ostlers, Cooks, Sergeants, jailers', Under-jaillers, Panders, Bawds, Ruffians and Whores.   

CHAP. VII. Of the difference and variety of Thiefs.  
ALl the Thiefs aforesaid are called discreet, because that every one in his place striveth to cover theft the best he can, transforming it into Nobility and virtue, and this manner of stealing is the safest and most secret. Of these there is as great variety and difference, as there are several Offices in the Commonweal, yea there are other Thiefs who steal openly and without mask: who, although they are not so many in number as the former, are notwithstanding moe, and their differences are as many as there are inventions to steal, which being redacted into a shorter number, are divided into Robbers, Staffadours, drawers of Wool, Grunets, Apostles Cigarets', Dacians, Mallets Cutpurses, Satyrs, Devont, and Governors of the House.  
The Robbers steal upon the high ways and solitary places with great cruelty and tyranny, because that seldom do they rob without killing, fearing to be discovered and followed by justice. The means & slights that they have to coin to their purposes are divers: for sometimes they will follow a man fifteen days never losing the sight of him, waiting while he go out of the town. And the better to overreach him one of the company goeth disguised in a Merchant's habit, a guest of the same Inn, with a certain pack of old cloth, or some other invention, giving to understand that he is a strange country Merchant, and feareth to travel alone. With this lie he falleth into discourse with the poor Merchant or passenger craftily getting out of him, that which he desireth to know, & learning whence he is, whether he goeth, what Merchandise he carrieth, or what business he goeth, about, and when he is to be gone, whereof giving notice to his companions, they lie in wait for him at some place most convenient for their purpose. Others make themselves lurking holes behind some bushes, grown up to the thickness of a wood, and when they perceive a far off, or by some spy, a passenger, they lay in the middle of the way a purse made fast, some show of money, or a little budget, that in the mean time while he alighteth and stayeth to take it up, they may come timely enough to take from him that he carrieth. Others being hid in the most secret places of the high way, send one of their company in Carrier's clothes, who seeing the Passenger approach stays to look on him, and making show to know him and to have some letters for him, & holding him in talk, busieth him in such fashion, that the others have the time and means to surround him. Others lying somewhat out of the way, feign a lamentable and pitiful voice, with which they tie the passenger to stay, and to go see what it is, and while he that makes this moan deceitfully declareth his grief, the ambush leapeth out that strippeth him to his shirt.  
Your Staffadours are a second sort of robbers, little differing from the former, though more courteous, and not so bloody; those go calmly into the house of some Merchant, and not finding him there, seek for him at great leisure, at the Exchange, in the fields, at Church, and in the middle of a thousand people, draws near to him softly talking in his ear, making as though he would communicate to him some business of great importance, and showing him a Dagger, saith, this Dagger demandeth a hundreth crowns, brought to such a place, such a day, and if you do it not, you shall die for it. The poor Merchant sore affrighted by such words dareth not to miss, for fear to be killed.  
The Wooll-drawers take their name from the theft they practise, which is to snatch cloaks in the night, and these have no other cunning save the occasion: they go ever by three or foures between nine or ten a clock at night, and if they do find a fit opportunity they let it not slip. Most commonly they come forth to snatch cloaks in the darkest and rainest nights, and to them places which they see is most quiet and most out of the way, at least upon the one side, to the end that the neighbours may not come forth (at the outcries and noise which the rob are commonly wont to make) and take them. These same are accustomed sometimes to go in Lackeys clothes to come in to some Mask or feast, making show to look for their Masters, and with this liberty, they meet with a heap of cloaks, that the Gentlemen use to leave in the Hall, being sure that no body will meddle with them they in the view of all in the place, nimbly take up two or three on their shoulders, and get them gone with them, saluting all those whom they meet, with Cap in hand.  
The Grumets take their name from the likeness that they have to those young boys in ships, who climb up with great nimbleness, by the tackle to the top of the Mast; and the sailors call them Cats or Grumets. Those that bear this name steal by night, climbing up lightly, by a ladder of ropes, at the end of which they have two little hooks of iron, to the end that throwing them up to the window; it may catch hold there and they easily get up and empty the house. These run about the City and the Country, stealing not only gold and silver, but also Wheat, Rye, Barley, Oates, and finally all that ever they do find, and when they have played their prize, they cunningly tie a line made fast to the point of the little hooks, which, after they are come down, they drawing, the two hooks are raised and the ladder falleth, without ever leaving any print or mark of the theft.  
The Apostles take their name from S. Peter, because that even as he bears the keys of Heaven, so also they ordinarily carry a picklock or universal key with which they open all manner of doors, and because of too much noise, that the lock may not rattle, and awaken the people a sleep, they put in a plate of lead with which they break it in pieces, so that they who lie nearest can perceive nothing.  
Those whom they call Cigarets', have for their particular office to haunt Churches feasts and public assemblies, at which they cut off the half of a cloak, cassock sleeves, half a gown, the quarter of a jump and finally whatsoever they find, for of all these they make money.  
The Devout are Church-theeves, because there are no Easters, Pardons, nor jubilee which they visit not: they are continually on their knees in the Monasteries,— having their beads in their hands, to cloak their knavery, waiting their time, either under some Altar, or behind some table, on the eeve of some solemn feast, to the end that they may get out by night.— and to spoil the image of all the ornaments about them. In this sort of theft they do moreover adventure into the Monasteries of the Religious as well as into other Churches, because that as they are charitable, and fear to be accounted disorderly, they seldom put a thief into the hands of justice, and for all the mischief that he commits a man getteth out of their hands, chastised with one only discipline all about the Cloisters by a procession of Monks who charge him, after his amendment, to fear God.  
The Satyrs are men living wild in the fields, that keep their holds and dwelling in the Country and forsaken places, stealing horses, kine, sheep and all kind of cattle which by occasion come in their walk.  
The Dacians are cruel, merciless people, held in our commonweals in less account than th'other thiefs: these steal children of three or four years old, and breaking their arms and legs lame and disfigure them, that they may afterwards sell them to Beggars, Blind folks and other vagabonds.  
The Overseers of the house have this name from the particular care that they have to look out for provision of bread, meat, and other victuals to feed their companions, and as there is not any thing in the world that a man loveth better than to eat and drink, the inventions and means that thiefs have, are so several and so exquisite that it is impossible to tell them all. Some are accustomed three or four to meet in the twilight at night and taking a bottle of five or six pottles with a fourth part of water in it, they go to a Tavern bidding them fill the bottle with the wine in the house, and having agreed for the price, the poor Vintner beginneth to measure while it be almost full, than they make show of a desire to taste it, if it be the wine that they bought at the beginning, and scarcely have they tasted it when bending their brows, casting up their eyes and wrying their nose they cry out at the wretched Vintner, saying that he is a thief and a deceiver, who hath changed them their wine. The poor fellow seeing that his oaths and curses avail nothing, is content to take his wine again and to take out the bottle the measures that he had put in, by which means they have a fourth part left so well seasoned that it may pass for wine of six pence a quart. Other whiles they go five or six in company to the Tavern with two great pots so like th'one to the other, that very hardly can there any difference be perceived between them; they carry th'one empty and the other full of water under his cloak, and bids them fill the empty one with the best wine that they have, never taking care for the price, and it being full, the one of them takes it under his cloak, and the other stays reckoning with the Vintner, holding his purse in his hand and making show to pay him: being upon these terms, the others come in, and ask aloud whether or no they shall sup there, which the Vintner seeing, alured presently by the gain that he shall make if they sup at his house, persuades them to stay, and they take his counsel determining to go to the Cooks to buy some joint for supper, and to call bacl the rest of their comerads, leaving the pot full of water to the Vintner, that he may keep it in the mean while till they come bacl, with which he remaineth contented and well assured, thinking heath himself, that though they never return, the pot notwithstanding shall remain with him for his gains.  
As for the provision of flesh, poulterie and other things they have a thousand inventions, whereof I will tell you one only which happened long ago to one of my copsemates. It was, if I rightly remember, on a holy saturdays market, in which they sold great store of Hens, Partridges, Rabbits, Pullet's and other things against the festival day. Three of the company went out to seek for provision, dividing themselves every one to his own walk, the two met with a Countrey-Clown loaded with Capons and Partridges, which were in the market; one of them drew near to buy up all that he had, & cheapening a quarter of an hour with the Clown, agreed to give him ten Nobles for all his ware, giving it to his fellow to carry it home, and he stayed behind with his hand in his pocket, making as if he would pay him. He searcheth both the sides, of his hose, drawing out first a great purse, next a little one, afterwards a handkerchief tied in knots with some papers folded up, with which he enchanted the Clown, and gave his companion time and leisure enough to get him out of sight, and at last not finding in all his budgets the whole sum, he bids the Clown follow him and he should pay him. The Clown was content, and beginneth to follow him with diligence, and almost on the trot, because that as my Companion had an intention, to get out of sight crossing the streets and lanes he walked apace with posting speed. But seeing himself so closely followed by the Clown he went into the Cloister of the Austin Friars, where there were some Friars confessing folks, and having made a devout prayer, he turned himself towards the Clown, saying to him, My friend, the provision that you have sold me is for this House, and that Father, who is there a confessing is the Proctor, I will go tell him that he must pay you; and speaking thus, he comes to one of the Confessors with the Clown after him, and turning a little aside he put six pence into his hand, and whispers him in the ear saying, Father, this country man is one of my acquaintance, and cometh hither to be confessed, he lives six miles hence, and he must of necessity go bacl to his house this evening, I beseech you to do me the favour to confess him out of hand and let him go. The good Father obliged by the alms given aforehand, promised him, that when he had ended the penitents confession whom he had at his feet, he should dispatch him presently. With this answer, he called to the Clown, and said to him, friend, the Father will dispatch you by and by, when he hath made an end of confessing this man, to which the Father added go; not hence, I will give you content presently. With these words my companion parted from them, and the Countryman stayed, reckoning on his fingers the money that he should lay out on shoes, hat and other trifles which he minded to buy as well for himself, as for his family out of his Poultry money. The penitent makes an end of his confession, and the father makes a sign to the Clown to draw near; the Clown was not in so trembling a perplexity, with so great haste as those who come to confession, which the good father was much offended at, it seeming to him that he had little devotion and less humility to be confessed. The Clown stood bolt upright, looking heedfully upon the Confessor, to see if he should put his hand in his pocket, and the Confessor looked upon the Clown in like manner, astonished to see him stand with so little devotion. Notwithstanding excusing him because of simplicity which is ordinary to these Country people, he bids him, kneel. The Clown at the beginning made some resistance, thinking it to be an extraordinary ceremony for one to kneel to receive money, nevertheless at last he did it though grumbling. The father bids him make the sign of the Cross, and say his confession, whereat the Clown lost all patience, believing the Confessor to be out of his wits, and standing up beginneth to mumble within his teeth and to swear with great obstinacy. This assured the Confessor that the Clown was possessed with a Devil, and having made the sign of the Cross beginneth to conjure him, putting S. Augustine's girdle about his head, and saying some devout prayers, with which the Clown went out of his wits, taking the good Father by the surplis and casting him down upon the ground, demanding aloud money for his poultry. The father supposing that he had all the fiends of Hell together upon him, beginneth to say, the Litany with a weak and affrighted voice, and to commend himself to all the Saints in the Almanac, praying them to aid him. At the clamour and noise, the whole Convent began to be troubled, all the Monks coming out in procession with the Cross and the Candlesticks, casting holy water on every side, and believing that there was a Legion of Devils in the Church. They came thither where the Confessor was at debate with the Clown, who still was ask money, for his Poultry, & the Prior having asked the Confessor concerning this accident & having also heard the Clowns reason, the justice of them both was discovered with my Companions wicked deed. In the endsome devout persons who were in the Church, paid the Clown his moneys who went bacl contented unto his house.   

CHAP. VIII. The Thief continueth the differences among Thiefs with three disgraces that befell him.  
THe Cutpurses are the commonest Thiefs of our Commonweal, who have an endless deal of means and ways to steal. All their study consisteth in thrusting their hand in the pocket of whom they approach, and cunningly to draw his Purse from him (he not perceiving it) with all that he hath in it. These haunt the Churches, Sermons, Fairs, Assemblies & public meetings, that they may work their feat in the throng, he that takes the purse gives it presently to another that is by him, that if he should be taken with his hand in his pocket, he might prove them liars and clear himself before all the world.  
I will tell you a witty trick which I once plotted, though it fell out but badly by me, seeing that the heedfulness, with which you harken to me, makes me know that you are not weary to hear me. The last year there came to London a Merchant of Italy, rich, courteous and of good carriage, who being in rolled by our spies I took the charge upon me to deal with him. I risen that day betimes in the morning, lest I should lose the occasion, and after I had dogged him through many streets, Lanes and Churches (for he was verily a good Christian) we came to a crowd of Merchant's wont to be kept in the Exchange about eleven a clock, seeing him alone, I came to him, talking to him of a bargain very profitable & certain, which made him open his eyes, and listen heedfully to my reasons. Then seeing him thus fitted to my inventions, I wound him gently into a Maze of dissiculties, in such sort, that I never ceased to declare to him the business, nor he to learn the circumstances. My Comrade then drew near making show as if he knew me not; and to be desirous to interpret the traffic for him which I had propounded, whereupon the Merchant began to take no more heed to me, and I to think evermore of him. I put secretly my fingers in his pocket to try the depth and breadth thereof, & perceived that it and its Masters little care gave me free liberty to put in all my hand. I did so and at the first essay, I drew his purse, at the second a silver Watch, which he carried tied to a small gold-chaine, with which I might have been content if stealing could be limited. I was resolved to try the third time, to see if I could draw thence a Holland handkerchief, which before he had showed edged with curious bonelace, but I could not be so nimble to draw it, nor my Companion to hold him in talk, but he felt me, and running to save his pocket with his hand he could not miss but meet with mine, wherewith being vexed and suspicious, he presently knew that he had lost his purse and his Watch, and not finding them he took me by the neck, crying A thief A thief. I foreseeing the evil that might befall me (for Astrology is very necessary for a Thief) had given the purse and Watch from underneath my cloak to my companion, as soon as ever I had drawn it, who was but only two steps from me: Wherefore with the assurance that I had, that he would find about me that which he sought, I scorned all he said, giving him the lie a thousand times. The Merchant holding me fast by the collar, with a loud voice calling for his purse, in such sort that he made all upon the place to gather together. But my Comrade seeing that my honour run a great hazard, if the business should be proved amongst so many people, secretly calls a crier who was at a corner of the place, whom he made cry, If any one had lost a purse and a silver Watch, that he should come to him, & give true tokens thereof, he would restore them, and withal departed the place. Hardly was the sound of the first cry heard but my good Italian let me go, entreating me with great humility to forgive him the rash judgement conceived of me, which I did at the request of the company, and presently got me out of sight. He went as nimble as a Roe to seek for the crier, and having found him he gave the true tokens of his loss, but he that had bid him do it could not be found any more; and so I escaped this dangerous accident.  
The Duendes a Larins so called for the likeness that they have with the spirits of this name, begin to walk through the town in the evening, and finding some door open, they enter softly, hiding themselves in the Cellar, in the stable, or in some other dark secret place, to the end they may throw out at windows all that is in the house, when those within are fast asleep. I adventured once to play such a prank, and turn myself in an Angel of darkness, but I was deceived. It fell out then, that one night on the Eeve of a high holiday I went to seek my fortune, my mishap made me meet with a door half open, into which thrusting my head I saw that all my body might enter, I went up a pair of stairs to a great Chamber well furnished and fitted, and thinking that it was a safe course for me to hid myself under a bed, while these of the house were gone to rest, I did so. After four hours that I had lain all along on the flower, I heard a noise of folks, coming up suddenly into the Chamber, you need not ask if I was heedful to see who they were, and by and by with the light of a Candle I saw the feet of two footmen and one maid laying the cloth with great diligence, and were making of a fire, because the Master of the house was to sup there. The table furnished with sundry dishes of meat, four or five sat down, besides the children that were in the house. I was then so affrighted and confounded, that I think verily if the noise of their voices and the great number of children had not hindered them, they might have heard plainly the beating of my joints, because my buttocks beat so hard one against the other, that I think the noise might have been heard half a mile off. By mischance there was a little dog, that run about gnawing the bones that fell from the table, and one of the children having thrown him a bone, a Cat that watched under the table was more nimble to catch it with which she run away to hid her under the bed, the dog grinning and pressing to take the bone from her, but the Cat could so well use her claws and defend her prize, that having given the Dog on the nose two or three blows with her paw, there began so great a skirmish, and there was such a hurly burly between them, that one of the waiters took a great fire-shovel that was in the Chimney and cast it so furiously under the bed, that if, as it gave me over the nose with the broad side, it had lighted on me with the end, it had killed me outright. The blow was so great, that I was above half an hour ere I could come to myself, but it made the Cat come out like a thunder from under the bed, and the Dog stayed grinning and barking with such a fury that neither fawning nor threatening of mine could quiet him, whereat the waiters at table were so vexed that they began to chase him out, throwing firebrands at him, which made him come out from under the bed, and leave me there in the pangs of death. The Dog's noise was done, and there began another in my guts, so violent, that to stay the sudden rumbling of a flux in my belly, which the apprehension and fear had moved I was constrained to sneeze thrice, & with the force of my sneezing to wrong my breeches by the liberty of that unjust violence. These two noises met together, and making one of two, increased so much the force, that it made all at table rise, and take off the Candles, to see what was this novelty. They pulled me out, but I could give no reason that could be heard, nor humble suing that could be admitted, so I remained subject to the rigour of their vengeance, they stripped me stark naked and binding me hand and foot, they began to scorch me with a lighted Torch not without loud laughing, and after they had satisfied their furious passion, they put me in the hands of justice, out of whose power I escaped signed and sealed.  
The Mallettes are a sort of thiefs who hazard themselves upon great perils and inconveniences, for they are made up in a bale, basket or dry fat, feigning that it is certain Merchandise sent over, which they make some one or other of their friends in Merchant's apparel carry from one house to another, that when night cometh and every one being fast a sleep, he cutteth the cloth with a knife, he breaketh forth to empty the house. I was one of those when the fourth disgrace befell me, because a friend of mine having counterfeited to have four bales to be laid by night in a rich goldsmith's house, counselled me to be packed up in one of them, covering the sides thereof with cloth and webs of fustian. The goldsmith made no difficulty to receive them, forsomuch as he had not them in keeping but a little while, and that he thought, if the owner in the mean time should happen to die, some one of them might fall to his share, so he made them to be laid in his backe-shop, whereby I was well assured to work my feat. I waited while night with such desires as that plot deserved, which notwithstanding fell out to my disgrace; for three or four prentices meeting that night in the house, of intention to tarry there upon occasion of the bales, resolving to lay them together, and lie upon them. After supper, every one withdrew himself. The prentices fitting the unhappy bed, or to say rather, the bale, in which I was in the middle of the others, on which they began to sleep so sound, that one might have drawn them a mile and never awakened them. I being impatient of the exceeding great weight that I felt, not daring to stir myself more than I had been dead; and on the other part the little breath that I had, being choked, I began to stir myself a little, and seeing the unmoveable weight of that which was on me; I certainly believed that they had laid a bale upon me; with which imagination, and the extreme anguish that I suffered, I drew a sharp knife, and thrusting it up, I made a great hole in the tillet of the bale, and a huge deep wound in the buttocks of him that lay upon me. He risen like a thunder raising his voice to the heavens, calling for neighbours help and the justice's aid, thinking that some one of his companions would have killed him. The confused noise of all the neighbours, and the alarm was so great, that ere the Master of the house had lighted a candle, the justice beating open the door came in, and find the poor wounded fellow in his shirt bleed and faint, and the other vexed and confounded, takes the deposition of him that was wounded never taking notice of the bale, nor coming neereit, thinking that it was not needful to know the place where he was hurt. But the goldsmith, who attentively harkened to the justice, and beheld the circumstances of the fact, seeing the poore-hurt fellow all bloody, supposed that the bales and the cloth in them might be bloody and spoiled and he bound to pay them, and with this unquietness he came near to look on the bale, and seeing it cut thrust in his fingers to try if nothing was spoiled, and he missed not to find my beard. I could very well have bitten him if I had thought it had been the best of my play, but I lay quiet, thinking that he would never guess what it was. He held the torch nigher to the hole, and stooping to see that he had touched, the wax began to melt and drop upon my face, which forced me to remove a little, and him to mar all, crying aloud. Thiefs, Thiefs. The judge came near, who was yet making one write the deposition of the hurt man, and opening the bale, they found one within it. They carried me to prison, whence I came out at the seventh day after at a carts tail well accompanied, beside other favours that they did me, whereof the greatest was to condemn me to the galleys.  
All the aforesaid Thiefs have ordinarily their spies at Exchanges, Fairs and common Markets, viewing all that go and come, and learning what money they carry, how much, and in what sort, where they leave it, and in what hands, to give notice thereof to the company. And herein there is such diligence, and so great care, that there cometh not any stranger to the town, but in a quarter of an hour after he is registered in our book with all his qualities: to wit, whence he cometh whither he goeth, and what is his traffic: and if there be any negligence herein, the spies that have these places of the City in their charge, lose the profit and gain that should come to them that day, out of the common purse, beside a shameful reproof which our Captain giveth them in presence of all the other Thiefs. (* ⁎ *)   

CHAP. IX. Wherein the Thief relateth his witty diligence to free himself out of the Galleys of Marseiles.  
YOu may think, I had no great maw to that journey, which these Gentlemen commanded me towards Marseils, sigh there could be no pleasure in that which is done upon constraint. Nevertheless I obeyed with great resolution, hoping that fortune would offer some good occasion to set me at liberty: so all my study and care was only to find out the means to attain to this end. And having tried many which came to no effect, he practised one which might have happened well, if fortune had been content with my past troubles, and had not made me fall any more in the try all thereof. The invention than was on this wise. The Captain of the Galley, where I was slave, being exceedingly in love with a Lady of good rank, and she in no wise loving him, he tried all means (though impossible) to bring her to his bow, and as is usual with Lovers to be the more inflamed when they find their beloved hard to be won, the Ladies extreme coldness was burning coals to the Captain, in such sort that he never enjoyed rest but when he was talking of his love. I having got knowledge by the report of a slave that went daily to my Master's house, there to carry water, wood, and other necessaries, determined to try my fortune, and not lose the occasion. So I spoke him kindly, promising him that if he would faithfully aid me, that he might hope assuredly for his liberty, whereof I would as well make him certain as of mine own. The good Antony, (for so the slave was called,) put so much trust in my words, hearing me speak of liberty which I had promised him, that waited but for the hour to be employed in that which I did entreat him, and he thought there was not time enough; hoping with great impatience, that I should declare to him that, which he was to do for me: who seeing him so well minded on my behalf, and otherwise silly, faithful and true, I shown him my resolution, recommending to him secrecy, and wisdom above all things. I said thus unto him, My friend Antony, know that it is long since I have desired to impart a secret to thee, which I will tell thee of: but as all things require wisdom, patience, and the occasion, I have not done till now; because I thought it not fitting till now to do it: as also, because not being so satisfied (as I am this present) of thy goodness, seeing, as the Proverb saith, one should eat a bushel of salt with his friend ere he trust him. Thou knowest well our Master's love with this Lady that dwelleth by the great Church, and how much he is out of kelter for her, yet never having received one favour of her, after so long time spent in her service, and so many Ducats spent in vain for love of her. Now if I should find a mean and assured invention, to make him without the spending of one shilling, or troubling her doors enjoy his pleasure, what reckoning would the Captain make of this service, and what reward would he give him who should bestow on him that which he so earnestly desireth? Verily (answered Antony) I hold for certain that he would turn fool at his contentment, and not only would he give thee thy liberty, but also to all those for whom thou shalt ask. Go to friend, said I, if thou hast any particular acquaintance with some one of them who are most familiar and best liked in the Captain's house, thou must acquaint him with this business, that he may tell him, and assure him that I will doubtless do that I promise, and I counsel thee that it be not delayed. The content which Antony received was so great, that without bidding me farewell, nor answering me one word, he went from me like a lightning, entreating a soldier of the Galley, that he would bring him into the Captain's house, to talk with him of a matter of great importance. He was there, and could give order for my business, that half an hour after, the Governor of the house came to the Master of the Galley, charging him to send me with a soldier to the Captain, because he would see me. The quick effect which Antony's diligence wrought, gave me extreme great contentment, and made me hope that so good a beginning would bring my designs to a happy end. Finally, I was at my Captain's house, tattered, torn, and naked, and with a great chain tied to my foot. He coming to meet me, as if I had been a man of great rank, and laying his hand upon my shaved head, began to talk kindly to me, ask me what countryman I was, what was my name, and why I was condemned to the Galleys. And I having answered him in a dissembling manner, and lying the best I could, he drew me aside, to a corner of the Chamber, ask if that which Antony had promised him, was certain, Sir, answered I him, I know not what he hath said, nor what promise he hath made, yet I will tell you, that if he hath spoken according to that which I told him, all is true, without failing one tittle. Sir, I told him, that if you would promise to release me out of this distress which I endure, and to give me my liberty freely and wholly, I should make you enjoy the love which you desire with so great passion and which so torments you, I promise you moreover and assure you, that making this condition with you, if I perform not my promise you shall my head cut off, or throw me into the sea. Thou bindest thyself greatly (said he with a smiling countenance, already desirous to see the effect of my promise) but if thou art a man of so great knowledge and skill, that thou canst do this for me, this Galley wherein thou art shall be thy fortune, for I shall not only be content to give thee thy liberty but I will make thee one of my household servants, and the best respected of them all. But tell me, after what manner canst thou do it? Sir, you shall know (said I) that I was bred with a great ginger, who under pretence to cast Horoscops and Nativities dissembled his Magic with so great craft, that there was not any one in the world that suspected him. He made use of me in some of magical experiences, supposing because I was young and of a dull wit I would understand nothing of the secrets of his Art. But he was deceived there, because though I seemed foolish and ignorant, yet I had an eye on all his trials, and I studied them so well, that many love secrets stuck in my memory, amongst which I have one most certain and approved, with which if a woman were harder than the Adamant, I will make her softer than the wax. In such sort that the secret which I propound to you is Magical, not natural, and it is requisite to have some hairs of the party beloved, to put it in execution; with which, and with some Ceremonies that must be performed, the Gentlewoman's heart will be so set on fire, that she shall take no rest, but when she is with or thinketh of her beloved. Notwithstanding this must be done in the night, at the waxing of the Moon, and in the fields, there being but only three in the company, and these stout and resolute, that cannot be dismayed nor frighted, fall out what may, or whatsoever they see. If, saith the Captain, that to further the business there needeth no other thing but a good heart, we shall easily have our desire, for though all Hell should stand before me, it were not able to make me give bacl so much as one step, nor once to change my colour, or countenance: and for the hairs that thou hast mentioned, I will give thee as much as thou shalt desire. I know Sir, (answered I) by your face that your natural inclination is very fit for Magic, and if you had studied it, you would work wonders by it. So now seeing the time favoureth us, and that you have the Lady's hair, let us not suffer this waxing of the Moon to pass with bringing our business to pass. You may go out on horseback, and he also that shall accompany you, as for me, though ill bestead with the weight of this chain, I will not forbear to go a foot. All shall be in readiness (saith the Captain) against thursday night, & sigh experience hath made thee Master in this Art, prepare thee well and study that which thou oughtest to do, to the end that our design may not be lost by negligence or little care; and for the present get thee bacl to the Galley; for I will send to thee by the governor of my house who shall be the third of our company, a faithful man, courageous & valiant, and if there need any thing to this purpose, thou mayst in the mean time provide thee, for I will take order that all be paid that thou shalt buy. With this good answer I parted from my Master more joyful and merry than the flourishing Spring seeing my business thrive so well at so good a pass, and being returned to the Galley I found my good Antony, who waited for me with great impatience to know what I had bargained with the Captain, and upon what terms my affairs stood, to whom I related all that we had agreed upon, and the kindness that he received me withal in accepting my promise, assuring him that when I was in favour, the next thing I asked should be his liberty. Hardly had I begun my discourse, but I perceived the Governor of the Captain's house entering the Galley, his visage inflamed, his eyes staring and dancing, and he running, as he had quickesilver in his heels, asked where I was, and having perceived me, and drawn me aside, he said to me, I am Governor of the house to the Captain of this Galley, who hath commanded me to come hither, and to know of thee all that shall be necessary for the business that you talked of, dispose and appoint at thy pleasure, for I have money for all, and because that I may offer thee something in my own behalf, take this crown of gold which I give thee as a token of that friendship which shall be between us, and I assure thee that thou shalt have a good friend of me at the Captain's hands. But as reason would thou must answer me with mutual acknowledgement, in doing some thing for me. You shall bind me much Sir, (I answered him then very humbly,) having disparaged yourself so much in regard of him, who is so fare unequal: consider in what my weakness and my poverty can serve you, for I will perform it with all my soul. I will not, saith the Governor, that thou hazard thy soul, because it is Gods, but I would feign entreat thee, that with thy secrets and thy skill thou wouldst help me to purchase the favour of a Gentlewoman of good rank whom I have loved now these five years, and because I am of somewhat a meaner condition than she there is no mean to make her hear me, and if it were possible to give two blows with one stone it would be be an extreme great contentment to me, & thou shouldst bind me to thee, not only as a friend, but as a slave. Now the Moon is waxing, and the time very fit, so that I think there is no need to make any more ceremonies for my mistress than for the Captains, and if you must have of her hair, see here are some, for it is above a year that I carried them about me, keeping them as relics. And drawing a paper out of his pocket put one of her locks into my hand. I who desired no other thing but that the third of our company should be also so besotted, that the business might fall out well, I was in a manner beside myself with contentment, which I could not hid nor dissemble without showing some signs in my countenance of being troubled, by which he took occasion to ask me what it was that troubled me. To whom I answered, Sir, I fear that if the Captain should know that I do any thing for you he would be vexed with me, and I should lose this good opportunity in which lieth no less than my liberty; this consideration is that which troubleth me, not want of desire to serve you. And who will tell it him, saith he then? The Devil, answered I, thatnever sleeps, but happen what may, I am resolved to serve you, though I should lose the Captain's goodwill, seeing it is the first thing that you have commanded me. As for that which concerns the Captain's business & yours, you must buy a new sack, a small cord, and another big one of Hemp, four els long, a new knife, a chain and a brush, and these you shall buy without making any price, that is to say, that you shall give for them whatsoever the Merchant shall ask without beating of the price: and assure yourself, that within a seven-night, you shall enjoy your love with great liberty. Thou givest me greater content with this answer, saith the Governor of the house, than if the King had given me a pension of a thousand crowns a year, do that which thou promisest, & thou shall see what I will do for thee. And embracing me kindly he went away full of hope and joy, leaving me the most contented man of the world, seeing that if in this prison I had sought an occason which might have fallen out better for my ease, it had been impossible for me to find it, for as well my Captain as the Governor of the house were so blinded besotted and fooled, that if I should have called the day night they would have believed it. On the contrary my heart throbed a thousand ways, considering into what a maze I should thrust myself, if the business succeeded not, nevertheless I made a virtue of necessity, using that remedy which is ordinary with these that are in any extremity, which is boldnesse and resolution. With this good courage I waited for the Thursday, which came more joy full and fairer than the Spring, though it was slow, because of the desire they had to enjoy their Mistresses, and mine to get out of the harbour by the cheating tricks that I put upon them, it seemed to us the longest day of all the year. Every time the clock struck, they despaired, fearing to miss the telling of the hours, as these do who hope for a thing that they earnestly desire; and after this care they were in anextacie considering what they would do in the possession of their loves, as if they had already verily past the night and overcome the difficulty. This doubting and hammering of theirs served me well to my purpose, that they might not perceive the gulleries that I put upon them, and the smoke that I sold them. Whereby I find that those who paint Love blind, have great good reason for them, because that, if they not been so, they would have perceived all my promises to be nothing but wind, and that the means which I propounded to them were for no other end but to gull. them. * ⁎ *   

CHAP. X. In which he proceedeth to relate his invention, begun with some discourses of Love, between the Governor of the house and this Gallie-slave.  
THenight being come which be a day for me, enlightening the heaven with infinite numbers of stars so bright and resplendent, that they dazzled the light of the day, and filled my soul with joy: when my honest Governor enters the Galley, brave, Gallant and clothed with the best apparel that he had, because that amongst other directions that I had given as well to him as to his Master, the chief was that they should be fine & brave, as being a thing most requisite and necessary for Magic skill; and having saluted me with close embracements he said to me, friend, that thou mayst know that I can do what I will at the Captain's hands, and that I want not goodwill to help thee, thou shalt know that through my entreaty he gives thee leave to leave off thy chain for this night, and it may be, for ever, that thou mayst walk with greater liberty, and perform thy business and what is necessary for it, and though the Captain made some difficulty, I dealt so earnestly that I obtained this favour in earnest of that which I desire to do for thee. I who then was more knavish and more dissembled then soolish, fellinto some suspicion imagining that this liberality offered ere it was desired, was feigned, and but only to try me, wherefore I answered him, Sir I thank you for the care you have had of me obtaining of my Master that he will take off my chain, a favour which I would kindly accept, if it were possible, but it is not, because I must not change the estate that I am in, nor one point of that which is of my estate; it being necessary that he, who shall make this trial, must make in the same estate & apparel that he is accustomed to wear: and so I may not go but in mine own clothes & with the chain because otherwise we shall do nothing. The Governor was not a little contented with my answer, being assured that there was in me no kind of deceit nor malice, but the pure and simple truth, & pitying me believed assuredly, that there was more passion in my words then justice, he embraced me the second time saying, friend, God who is wont to give the salve according to the wound, hath brought thee to this Galley, that by it thou mightst come to the knowledge of my Master, and enjoy the special favours which thou shouldst promise to thyself from his liberality, if the business fall out well. How well? answered I him, hath the Captain any suspicion that I would deceive him? No by the world answered the Governor, seeing that though thou wouldst do it, thou couldst not: but it is the great desire that we both have to soften the hardness of these she-Tygers, and to turn them to our love, that makes us think that impossible which is easy for thee to do, and this is usual amongst Lovers. I never was one, (answered I, and though I should be more in love then was Narcissus, I should never persuade myself that day were night, that oxen fly, and other fantastical imaginations, that haunt Lovers, which rather may be called follies and idle thoughts than love-passions. It well appeareth that his darts have not struck thee, saith the Governor, for if thou hadst tried them, thou wouldst not have spoken with so great freedom and so little trouble. Know friend, that Physician's rank this disease amongst Melancholic passions, into which the diseased falleth, believing that which is not, and framing a thousand fantasies and visions which have no other ground but their perverse and corrupt imagination, which works the same effect in Lovers, giving them an impression of jealous, to an other of disdain, to an other of favour, making a mountain of nothing, all which is bred of a burning desire which they have to possess that which they love. But to be willing to persuade this unto him who hath not tried it, is to desire to draw water with a sieve, and to weigh the earth. I am no Doctor, Master Governor, I answered him, nor yet Batcehler, because being left young, friendless and poor, I lived also without knowledge, having only four words of Latin. Nevertheless by the use of reason well known of all sciences, I understood the small reason that Lovers have to be so oft troubled upon so small occasion as they are troubled, because of necessity their affections tend to two points, to wit, that the woman must be good or evil faithful or disloyal. If she be good, faithful & answerable to your affection in mutual love, it is a great folly to be jealous over her: if she be unfaithful and known for such a one, there needs no other counsel, but not to trust her nor love her. Whence may be concluded that all the accidents to which you say lovers are subject, are the overflowings of folly, and wants of wit, it being a notable extravagancy to love one that hateth, this being supposed that hatred cannot be the subject of love, nor love of hatred, seeing we ordinarily love them that bind us thereto by their love. If it went by experience, saith the Governor thou wilt lose thy cause, because usually they hate these that love them best, taking the sight of a dying man for the occasion of their hate, and it is a voice in them now a days turned into a nature, to shun those that follow them, and to abhor those who adore them, as the Captain and I have hitherto made a long and unhappy trial. Think not so Master Governor, I answered, that you have made a good conclusion; for if you will have the patience to hear me, I will make you see clearly in what your arguments fail, and know that love ceaseth not to love nor hatred to hate, there being no law of nature, and he that fostered you in this philosophy, hath fed you with bad milk, because that Love alone not being accompanied with other circumstances, which are to be proportionable and reasonable is not all the motive of an other love. That Princess of noble blood should be tied to love a Porter, that dieth for her, only because he adoreth her. I deny your proposition, she is no wise bound to do it, nor her well to affect him, the object that might move her not being in him. As a Prince hateth to the death a poor damsel, because she depiseth him, being unwilling to give consent to his wanton love, whence it may be gathered that neither the Porter's love shall in any case tie the Princess will, nor Damsels scorn shall breed hatred in the Prince's mind. Seeing that in love is found the good, the profit and pleasure which are the hooks with which the will is taken, than it is the motive of love, and the Lady shall not be able to hate him, who loveth her upon these conditions, but therein being unequalitie and dishonour, she may do it. You shall more clearly perceive this in hatred, because when a man dieth for a Gentlewoman, & she hates him exceedingly, this hate is not that which inflames his love, but the account she makes of her honour & the fear of shame if she should consent to the pleasure of him that loveth her, which consideration makes her cool and backward and him extremely passionate. Whence it is concluded, that the woman offendeth not in hating him that worships her, nor any man ought to hate such a woman that disdaineth him. This thy Philosophy, my friend, answered the Governor, is framed of moewords than learning, and I could refute it by plain reasons, if time did afford us leisure, but the hour is already come, & the Captain will look for us, only I would entreat thee to be mindful of me as a friend, making thy enchantment of equal power with the cruelty of the Gentlewoman of whom I have spoken to thee. Away with this care, Sir, answered I, for I will do it in such sort, that though your Mistress were harder-hearted & more frozen then the Alps, she should be turned into a Mountain of fire, hotter than Mount Aetna of Sicily. I believe so, said the Governor, but I cannot choose but wonder why thou being so cunning a fellow didst not enchant the judge to be in love with thee and not have condemned thee to the Galleys. If this secret were good for a man, said I, a hundred years a go I had been a Duke or a Governor of some Province, if I had not been a Monarch. It is not good but for women, because he that first found it out, gave it this virtue only. That alone sufficeth me, saith the Governor, if with it I can soften that adamant, but with the hope that thou hast given me, I hold the victory as certain, and I hinder myself that I do not see to morrow already. With these words we came to the other side of the harbour where my kind Captain waited for us with great impatience and unquietness, by whom I was very well received, & he ask me why the Govern our had not taken off my chain, as he had charged him, I answered him the same things, which I had before answered the Governor, wherewith he was exceeding well contented. They leapt both on horse bacl, & I followed them at leisure, because of the weight of my chain, and being about a league from Marselles we arrived at the place appointed. They lighted down, and tying their horses at a tree, we with drew ourselves to gether to the place where our trial was to be made, & taking them with some necessary ceremonies, and telling them what they should say, I made a Circle on the ground whispering I cannot tell what strange and uncouth words, and turning myself often, sometimes to wards the East, sometimes to the West, with some ceremonies so unusual, that they made the Captain and his Governor of the house both of them astonished and fearful. At half an hour's end after that I had gone turning about like a fool, I made the Captain go within it, charging him to say after me, who was so obedient and so forward to all that I would have him, that if I had then cut off his moustaches, he would have believed that it was needful for the enchantment. I made him strip himself, teaching him to say certain words to every parcel of his clothes which he put off, which he pronounced so exactly that he lost not one syllable, believing that if he had miss in one jote he should have marred all this business, With this ceremony I stripped him to his shirt, he never making any show of fear nor suspicion, being assured that he was safe enough by the presence of the Governor, who was much astonished to see them finished, it seeming to him that there should neither be time enough nor enchantment sufficient for himself. Pity so moved my heart that I could not take off his shirt, having compassion of his innocence, because it was then the coldest time of all the winter, and either through fear or cold, such a vehement quivering and shaking of all his joints took him, with such a chattering of his teeth, that the noise thereof might have been heard half a mile from the place. I comforted and encouraged him, with the shortness and quick dispatch of the enchantment, and the assured possession of his love, enjoining him in the mean time to be silent, and telling him that if he spoke but one word, we should be presently in less than the twinkling of an eye all of us in Barbary. He then being in this plight, that is to to say, naked in his shirt, I gave him a knife in his hand, commanding him to make some stabs towards the four quarters of the world, at every one uttering some words, & for the conclusion I made him go into the sack. That which I then saw with mine eyes was a wonder & a miracle of God, because I always imagined, that as he was going into the sack he should suspect something, & that all mine invention should come to nothing: but a little lamb is not more obedient normore mild than he was, because that without any resistance or show of mistrust, he went in, being still assured by the presence of his Governor, and the ignorance he had of his loves; Which was good for me; for if he had known that the Governor was to be enchanted also, he had never gone into the sack. Finally having packed up the poor Captain, I laid him along upon the ground with his belly upwards, tying the sack's mouth with a cord that was by me, & speaking still to the Governor to encourage him, and wishing him to have patience a quarter of an hour the enchantment was to last. So having left him in this taking, the Governor and I went aside about a stones cast who said to me in an exceeding great pelting chafe, I will lay a wager that thou hast forgotten something of my business, for here I see neither sack nor knife for me, as for the Captain. Here is no need of a sack, said I, because your Magical experiences are made stronger or weaker, according to the greater or lesser cruelty that Gentlewomen have: and the Captains being exceeding disdainful, I have made the enchantment of a sack for her which is the strongest of all. Oh! brother, saith the Governor, what is this that thou hast done? mine is hardhearted, disdainful a Tiger and a Lioness: for the Captains, though she loves him not, notwithstanding shows him some favour, and if it goes by disdain, we need a hundred sacks, not one only what shall we do? Be quiet Master Governor, said I then seeing him afflicted, for there is a remedy for all but death; for that which is not in one thread shall be in a hundred. I will make with the hairs and the cords a hawk which shall have no less force than the Captain's sack, and for as much as your Mistress is so cruel as you say, I will add thereto a small matter which shall make her, that she shall never be able to take rest while she see you. It is that which I look for, my friend, answered he, let us martyr her in such sort, that my love may torment her thoughts & her memory, & perform my business quickly, before my Masters be ended. Speaking thus we came to the root of a tree, the place at which I had told him that his enchantment should be made, and in an instant making a circle, & reaching him what he should do, I made him go into it stark naked to the skin, because I had need of a shirt. Having him there in this fashion, I took his Mistress hairs, & twisting them with a cord I made a big roll, with which I tied his hands to the stump of a tree, showing him the mystery that was hid in every ceremony, & I would feign also have tied his feet, if I had not feared that he should have suspected this to be rather the fact of a Robber then of a Magician, but as his hands were enough for my purpose I would do no more. Finally having made them dumb naked & bound, defended from the sharpness of the cold air with the only fire of Love, that burned in their heart, there was no body that could hinder me to give two or three knocks at the lock of my chain with a hammer that I carried in my pocket and taking their horses and clothes I got me out of sight &, being armed like another S. George I took the high way to Lions.   

CHAP. XI. In which the Thief relateth the disgrace that happened to him, about a Chain of Pearl.  
WIth the victory of this dangerous journey. I took the high way towards the town of Lions, joyful to see myself free, & the owner of four and twenty double pistols, which I found by the hazard in my Master's pockets with which and with their clothes being brave & gallant I went into the town, & falling in love with as many brave Dames as were there: I talked of love to all that I met with, and receiving particular favours of some, because my presence and my clothes assured them that I was a man of some great house and of good rank. True it is that to keep them in this error, and to hold myself in the good account with which I had be gun, I oftentimes visited the Merchants of greatest credit, telling them, that I looked for some Merchandise from Venice, and promising to deal with, I made them in love with me, and they trusted my words as much as my outside and my honest looks did deserve. By which & by counterfeit nobleness, some Gentlewomen took occasion to be as far in love with me, as Thy sbe was with Pyramus, to whom I gave correspondence in the best manner, though I understood that I was not so blinded with love but this coloured good will, & these feigned sighs tended rather for my moneys then for any good quality or beauty, of mine. But as there is nothing that can resist the kind allurements by which a woman maketh war against him, whom she minded to deceive I suffered myself a little to be carried away by amorous shows of a Gentlewoman of the town, merry, pleasant & who entertained me best though she was none of the fairest: who making show that she was taken with my love, in a short time emptied my poor purse, leaving me like an Image wrapped up in velvet. I pressed also to bind her by allmeanes possible answerable to her feigned affection, not so much for my contentment, as for that she was provided with fine knacks, which she had been accustomed to ask of any new lover such as are chains, rings bracelets, & above all a chain of Pearl, so big, round & bright, that at the very sight of them any man of courage would desire them: This friendship at first was very hot, & had a prosperous gale of wind, but as soon as she perceived the weakness of my purse, she struck the sails of her goodwill, & began to look upon me with a cross & sour countenance, an accident which in some sort put me in doubt, & made me distrust that I should never work my feat, which I had projected at the beginning of her loves. So before that any falling out or vexing should rise between us, relying upon the kind offers which a little before she had made me, making me understand, that not only her goods, but also her very life should be sacrificed to my friendship; I requested her to pawn her chain or her Pearls for to contribute with her for the expenses of the kitchen, assuring her that I looked for two thousand Ducats from a living which I had in my country. But as they are old and subtle in their trade so they are also in their distrust, and so she excused herself, saying that the Pearls and the chain were pawns of a friend of hers who was to come and redeem them the next day, and that her honour should be greatly endangered if she had them not in readiness. There needed no small art to cover the annoy which that crafty answer bred me, nor little wit to turn into jest such a plain denial. So without making any show, or answering one word to that purpose, I fell a laughing most hearty over her shoulders, saying to her, that it was a device that I had framed to try her good will and to see if she would indeed confirm that which she had promised by her words, and drawing out of my pocket a counterfeit letter of Exchange, I made her read it that she might see the power that was given me to take up eight hundred Ducats from a rich Merchant of Lions, whom she knew well, wherewith coming to herself from her rugged coyness, she fell again into her smiling humour, giving me a few light blows on my cheek, calling me distrustful and mocker. I went away from her with a thousand embrace, making her believe, that I was going to receive a part of that sum, and God knows what my heart was. But as poverty hath ever been the mother of inventions, amongst many others which my imagination afforded me, I choosed out one which was to sell my horse at any rate whatsoeever, being content only to have money to live upon but three days, at the end of which I minded to have a fling at her Pearls, and so to get me out of the way. But it happened quite contrary to me; I went to catch the wool but I came bacl fleeced which was the just judgement of God, and a righteous punishment of my fault. For though the Proverbesaith, He that steals from a Thief winneth a hundred years of pardon: yet the theft that is done to women of this kind, is not put upon this account. But it should be rather held for a great offence, because that for the moneys they receive they sell their honour and reputation which cannot be redeemed withal the treasures of the world. It came to pass then, that I returning in the evening to her house, and making my pockets jingle with the money that I had received for my horse, she met me with embrace, so smiling and kind, that with her fawning and flatteries, she made me almost believe, that the refusal she had made me of her Pearls, had been but a trial and proof, which she would make of my affection. Finally order was given for making supper ready, with which and the tricks that I minded to put upon her, at the coming of my money, I resolved to change her in such sort, that in her first sleep, I should have the commodity to assault her, and she never to perceive it. But my desires had not so good success as I thought, because that such women know more than the Devil, particularly she, who as an old beaten beldame in her trade, there was no ambush nor deceit, which she had not pried into. So the more I urged her to drink, so much the more she proved coy and backward. Supper ended with all the joy that I could feign, and the hope which that good occasion promised me, we withdrawing ourselves into her chamber, she began to untire herself with as much slowness as it had been her wedding night. But I desirous to arrive at the haven of my intention, to make her more careless and less suspicious I went to bed first, feigning myself unable any more to withstand sleep that urged me so eagerly. My disgrace was such, that she distrusting the sum, that I had bragged to have received, and taking occasion by my dog's sleep she would search my pockets to try if all was gold that glisterens, and if the nuts were answerable to the noise. But finding there was so little money that it would scarcely furnish out the next day's expense, she began to be vexed and to have an ill opinion of me. At all this (though snorting) I was more watchful and more a hunting then a Cat when she watches a Mouse, spying in what place she laid her Pearls, that I might fish them incontinent when she was fallen asleep. She lay down sad and confounded, thinking on the small sum of money, that she had found, and ofttimes sighing. Whereof I would in no wise ask the cause, as knowing it well enough, and not desirous to let her from sleeping which I so much desired and longed for. So a quarter of an hour after, which was the time that in my conceit, she was past all thinking of it any further, I thought of mine own designs, weighing well all the inconveniencies which might fall out, amongst which I considered the suspicion, conceived by her to be most difficult, it seeming to me that she would not sleep but by halves, and that seeing the least appearance of that she imagined, she would raise the house with her cries, and put all the neighbours in arms. But amongst many inventions, there came a subtle one in my mind, and most fit for the purpose to this fact, which was, not to hid the Pearls in any part of my clothes, but to swallow them one and one, being assured that having past them through my body they would come forth more clear and bright then of before, and that in this manner though all came to the worst, the justice would set me free not finding the Pearls about me. This thought, in my opinion seemed admirable good, and thinking that she was asleep, seeing she sighed no more, nor shown any more her unquietness. I risen as softly, as was possible, going barefooted and at leisure to the place, where she had left her Pearls, and having found them, I began to swallow them one after another, though with some difficulty, I being narrow throated, and they very big. My ill luck was that while I was, about to swallow the last, it stuck in my weasand so unhappily, that it could neither go forward nor backward, I was forced to cough with some violence, and to awake her with my coughing, she calls upon me with tears and astonished, and I dissembling the best I could the hindrance of my weasand, answered her that I was seeking for the Chamber-pot with which she was well paid for a while, though not satisfied with my answer, it seeming a thing unlikely to look on the cupboard for the Chamber-pot, which was usually set under the bed, wherefore casting with herself the means to satisfy her suspicion, without making any show of distrust, she counterfeited an exceeding sore pain in her belly uttering great cries, and calling to her two maids that were in the house for light, and some warm clothes: she held in her dissembled pain for the space of half an hour, supposing that would be enough to take from me the suspicion of her cunning slights. About the end of which, she riseth from bed like lightning, and looking round about the room with a lighted candle and where she had left her Fearless, and no finding them, without speaking ever a word, or ask any other reason then what her imagination persuaded her, she begun to beat her face with her fists, that incontinent she filled her mouth with blood, uttering after that loud and shrill cries, that in less than a quarter of an hour, above two hundred people were assembled, and amongst them the justice, who breaking open the doors of the house, came up furiously, finding me in my shirt, and her in her night attire, with her baire about her ears and her face scratched, calling to me for her Pearls most furiously. The judge commands that every one should hold their peace, that he might be informed of the fact, and take the deposition of us both, and he having begun with me, I gave him content with very humble words, so that neither his threaten nor entreaties could draw any other answer from me. Nevertheless the judge seeing the woman's vehement complaints and bitter tears charged that my clothes should be searched which was executed with such care and diligence, that hardly a moat of the Sun could have been hid in them, and they not finding there the Pearls all of them with one accord judged me to be innocent, and condemned her as subtle, shameless, and dissembled. She seeing then that they all spoke against her, and misregarded her complaints, cast herself down at the judge's feet, tearing her hair, and rending her clothes, and uttering such strong cries, that the judge knew not what to think, nor what resolution to take, and consulting of the matter with those he brought with him, he resolved, that it having been verified that she had the Pearls when she went to bed, they should be searched for, in all the most secret corners of the Chamber, they not being found, they should send for an Apothecary, that should give me a potion mingled strongly with Scammony, to the end that if I had swallowed them, I might cast cast them up again. The judge's sentence was put in execution, and having done their diligence proposed about the Chamber, and not finding the Pearls, they were forced to come to the last remedy, which was the Physic, they which forced me to take in full health without the Physician's appointment, and against my will, & though I did all that was possible for me to vomit them, there was no mean to make me do it, so a vehement strife being awakened in my guts I was compelled to give way to the Pearls, and to tarry myself in prison, enjoying the favours which these Gentlemen justices are wont to bestow upon those that fall into their hands. * ⁎ *   

CHAP. XII. In which the Thief relateth the last disgrace that befell him.  
IT was about six a clock at night, when my Andrew made an end of telling me his disaster about the Pearls, and I desiring to know the last that kept him then in prison, I entreated him to tell me it from point to point, without missing any thing remarkable: wherein he being willing to give me content he answered joyfully in this manner. If God would have pleased that this should be my last disgrace, and if it had been as soon ended as I shall end the discourse thereof I should have thought myself happy; but I dare not trust to my hard luck, because that it being accustomed to persecute me, I do not believe that it will ever cease to use me unkindly with new torments. Know then that the justice of Lions having condemned me in two hundred lashes of the whip, through the streets accustomed, for such malefactors, and marking me with the town mark, they banished me the town with shame enough, allowing me but three days only to dispatch my business and go into banishment: during which days I thought upon a thousand Fantastical discourses, bethinking myself, how I might repair the poverty that had overtaken me after so great abundance. And after I had bethought myself of a thousand plots, never a one of which pleased me, the Devil put one in my head, which was the trouble that I now am in. I bethought myself that the same day that I was whipped, a famous Thief came after me, whom the judge had condemned to the same pain, a young man of good disposition, and of a vigorous courage, witty, and one of the cunningest Thiefs that in all my life I had dealt withal, but unhappy as well as myself. I acquainted myself with him to try, if between two wretched Caitiffs we could find some comfort in so great a mishap, and communicating one with th'other our intent and thoughts, we resolved to make a journey together to Paris. But before we were fully resolved of all things fitting for the voyage, we had a consultation about our poverty, and infamy, descanting upon the means which we might make in so great mishap, and thinking it was not safe for us to embark ourselves in so great a city as Paris, not having means to live on there, and by which to busy ourselves, at least while we were known. And after thathe had given me the hearing a long while, and he defully heard all the reasons and designs which I propounded, he said, Master Lucas (for that was the name which I had at Lions) the inventions that you show me are good and worthy of such a spirit as yours: but they be hard and difficult questions. Wherefore leaving them for another occasion, I will tell you one, which if it fall out well, it may well be that we shall get out of this misery. This is that we may use diligence to find in this City of Lions some Merchant that hath trade and correspondence at Paris, from whom we may get a letter directed to his friend, and having found him, you shall tell him secretly, that you will make up some packs of Merchandise in this town to be transported to Flanders with some money, and leave all, at Paris in the hands of some sure man, that it might be kept safe, while you go to Antwerp, where you shall make as if you have a Cousin german, to try the price, and how your Merchandise may be passed off; and that having never been at Paris, nor made any acquaintance to whom you might recommend your packs, you shall entreat him to write to some Merchant of his friends, that he may keep them for you. For so much, I suppose, he will not refuse you, and if he agreeth to it, let me alone. You shall see how I will rule my hands? If that be all that hinders you, said I, I will find them that shall give me a thousand letters, and not one only though I am now disgraced, and with infamy yet bleeding, I would have you to know, that there was more than four that will do some what for me, and that this is true you shall see by and by. With these words I went from him, and going to a Merchant's house of my acquaintance, ask of him a letter, after the form that my comrade had told me, with which I returned exceeding content, and putting it into his hand, he kissed it a thousand times, praising my diligence and credit, and so at last we came to Paris with it, where we being retired to a Chamber of the suburbs, we made two Packs, with some pieces of course canvasse, the rest full of sundry things, such as old shoes, old clothes, rags, and such other wares, and my Comrade put himself in the third, wherein I packed him up so neatly and handsomely, that neither his Pack nor the other two seemed to be nothing else but camlots or Fustians. Our Packs being made up, I went to give the letter to the Merchant to whom it was directed, who received it most gladly offering me all his house. After this we agreed that I should send the Packs at eight a clock at night, to save the custom other deuce to be paid by the Merchants, amongst which entered that of my companion, if not full of camlots, yet at least of cords, ladder, hook, file, lantern, knife and other military tools, with which to make war for necessity, and rob the Merchant's money. He then being entered and all in the house asleep, because it was passed eleven a clock he slit the canvasse with a knife, and coming out he searched all the corners of the house, throwing out at the windows some apparel and silk gowns with that seemed to him to be of the least, which I gathering up in the street with great diligence, the Devil would have it, that the watch in the mean while came by, with so great silence and dissimulation, that they gave me no leisure to hid our booty, which I was gathering up, nor to betake myself to the slight. And as there was no great need of questioning me for to know my cops-mates, sith these wares could not fall from heaven, they perceived that my Comrade was above, whom, after they led me to the prison, they imprisoned also for the same crime. He went out a fort ' night ago, being condemned to the Galleys for ten years, and I fear not much less, if the mercy and bounty of the judges have not some pity of me. * ⁎ *   

CHAP. XIII. Of the Statutes and Laws of Thiefs.  
BY the discourse which I have made of my History, saith honest Andrew, I have noted that you did not like well that I called our Company a Common weal, it seeming to you that we are governed only by the desire we have to steal, without any other law or reason, which is clean contrary, seeing that amongst us is done nothing which is not ruled by reason laws, statutes & ordinances, punishing those that otherwise exercise our art. We have in the first place a captain & Superior, all sorts of whom thiefs obey, & he disposeth of their thefts which they should act, naning these who seem to him the fittest for the purpose, and choosing the cunningest & wisest of the company for the most difficult & dangerous thefts. And in this there is so good order kept, that there is no man amongst us that forgetteth one only point of his duty, nor that passeth the bounds of his commission undertaking that which is in another man's charge nor meddling with greater matters than his capacity can compass. And know this that it is the most essential point of our common wealth, by the disorders whereof all others are undone This captain examineth him that cometh newly unto the company giving him three months of novice-ship, to try his courage inclination & ability, in which time, he propoundeth to him some witty questions as be these; to hang up some little thing without ladder, pole or line; to steal a man's horse as he is riding on him upon the way; To snatch a way a Courtier's band amongst a hundred people, & many other things of this kind. And having known his inclination & capacity, 
See Cap. 7. p. 54.  he givs him the office of a robber, of a Grumet, of a Cutpurse, or any other whereof he is found to be most capable. You will not deny but that this manner of proceeding is a great state point, just reasonable, & so necessary for the Common wealth, that because it hath not been practised, so great disorders are seen every where in it, seeing violence can promise no other good end. I will tell you that estates and offices should be given to every one, according to his natural inclination, without enforcing or tying him by any respect to another thing than to that which it desireth, not following that which troubleth, to wit, unquietness and mishap. For I held it impossible, that she whom her parents shall put in a Cloister against her will, for want of money to marry her, can live in peace and contentment. As also he will never prove a better husband, who for the only pleasure of his parents, and against his mind is tied in marriage, and so of other employments. We have a notable example of this good order in the Lacedæmonians state, a curious people, civil and wise, who suffered their children to grow up in liberty, without putting them upon any employment, nor to store up their appetite to any other estate, than to that to which their mind prompted them, and when they came to age and discretion they might choose of themselves the mean to live by most proper and most befitting their natural inclination, and thence it proceeded that all their actions were so well ordered and so perfect. After this manner our Common wealth is governed, & with this law our captain ruleth the capacity of those, who come newly unto him, bestowing on him the office & manner of stealing according to the disposition that he hath taken notice of in him in the months of his novice-ship.  
This Captain is an old man, wise, well experienced & finally exempted from the trade, as being one whose force and nimbleness having failed for the practice, he exerciseth the Theory with us teaching us the method and precepts of stealing. To which end he makes us meet together once a week in a certain place appointed for the purpose, where he bindeth us to give a strict account of all the thefts and accidents that have happened therein, reproving sharply those who are negligent and prove unprofitable, praising the vigilant and subtle. This is done ordinarily on Saturday night, on which day he appointeth all that must be done the week following, sharing out to every one the places that he should keep in, & the thefts in which he should be employed, taking of them all a strict oath of faithfulness, & punishing the offenders, the first time abridging him of that part of the theft which belongeth to him, the second depriving him of the place of six months, and if he be incorrigible and stubborn, he puts him into the hands of the Marshal. If he falls in a fault by negligence & carelessness, as it may be by coming to late to his place, to go elsewhere, or let slip some occasion in not laying hold of it, he is deprived of a week's benefit, & taking from him the office of a Thief, he puts him in the office of a Spy, or of a watchman, for the time that our Council shall appoint.  
Of all thefts in the first place is allotted the fifth part to him, that spares the whip to us, banishment, the Galleys, the Gallows, and that which remaineth of the tenths for pious uses, which are, to secure the sick and needy of our company, to release prisoners, and to ease the disgraces of those that have no money.  
We receive no women in the company, unless it be in case of great necessity, and when it cannot be otherwise, because by nature they cannot keep secrets, & they being unable to eschew this inconvenience we are bound upon great pains not to reveal unto them, how, from whom, and when we have stolen.  
He that commits the theft hath equal share with the Captain for pains & danger that he hath put himself in, his complices have the third part, and the Spies the fift.  
As for the honour and respect which is due to every one, there is such an order kept, that no wrong is done to any one of the company, every Officer having his rank and place appointed in all our meetings, assemblies and consultations.  
For the first are the Robbers, 
See Cap. 7.  next the Stafadours, than the Grumets, after these the Hobgoblins, then follow the wooll-drawers, the Mallets follow them, and last the Apostles, Cigarets', Cutpurses, and Caterers.  
Over all these a kind of Thiefs bear sway, called among us Liberalls, whose office is to undertake some strange points, as to black their faces with ink or kennel dirt, to hang Garlands of horns at men's doors, libels or such like, and these are the wittiest of all the company, and those who as it were endued with the best wit and invention, weigh and foreseeing all the difficulties that can happen in a dangerous case.  
None of the company may make any quarrel, noise or contention with another, about any matter whatsoever, unless it be feigned or subtle, to avoid any suspicion, that may be offered.  
We may not eat twice two of us together in one and the same Tavern or vitailling house, except it be once in the sev'night, to th'end that if any thing come in the way to be stolen there we may breed no suspicion amongst them that should see us there.  
We are forbidden also to go together through the city or to speak familiarly one to another, unless it be to fall a quarrelling, & to make some false blow at one another, to draw people together, that upon the occasion of our quarrel the Cutpurses may make up their hand.  
Every professor of the company carrieth his badge and secret mark, by which he is in an instant known of us all, understanding by this order, how many there are of an office in every street & part of the town. So the Robbers beareal ways a glove handing and made fast by one finger. The wool drawers button their doublet by intercession that is to say, 
Cap: 7. ibids  they button one and miss the next. The Staffadours stroke their moustaches and their beard at every space, sometimes thrusting their finger into one of their nostrils. The Cutpurses have a little white mark in their hatbands. 
ibids.  The Malletes bear their cloak after a certain fashion, and finally every particular office hath its particular token by which it is known among the company.  
When any woman of the company is married every profession gives her five Crowns to augment her portion, keeping nevertheless such an order, that she may not be married but to one of her own trade; that is to say, the Daughter of a Robber with a man of the same vocation or calling. And if by chance some Cutpurse should marry his Daughter with a Robber, Staffador or Grumet, he is bound to give him a hundred crowns in portion more than ordinary, because his son of Law is of greater and higher Office than the father is.  
We make a vow of patience and suffering, promising to be courageous and constant against torture, though we be seldom put to it, because (as I have told you) all that is salved with the fifth part.  
And to the end that all the places of the town may be sufficiently provided, it is enacted that every professor that shall come newly to a place, should put there some mark, showing thereby the number of Thiefs which are in that part: so the first that cometh lay a die in some secret corner, and yet well known to those of the company, with the Ace turned upwards; The second that cometh, turneth the die to the deuse point, the third to the trey, the fourth to the quater, and so the others to the size, and being come to that number, the same Office stayeth in the same place, because that according to our laws we cannot be above six in one and the same place: and when any one goeth away he turns the die upon the number of thiefs that remain, in such sort, that they being six, the first that goeth away turns the Die to the cinque point, the second to the quater, the third to the trey, by which number he that is behind of the Thiefs is known.  
We are bound to nourish and sustain all the cripples, blind, sick, and those whom their extreme old age excuseth from stealing.  
None of us may wear cloak, hat, breeches, doublet nor any thing else that was stolen, nor sell gold, silver or jewels in that town where they were stolen, under pain of a great and exemplary punishment.  
We are commanded to carry always a false beard in our pocket, with plasters of sundry sorts, to disguise us in an instant, when occasion shall require. As concerning Religion we are half Christians, because that of the two principal Commandments of God's Law we keep one, which is to love God; but in no case our neighbour, because we take from him that he hath.  
Next we receive and allow of the two parts of penance, which are Confession (because now and then we confess) and Contrition: but of the third, which is satisfaction or restitution we not so much as make mention, or talk.   
FINIS.   

Imprimatur  
Thomas Weeks. February 5. 1637.