The Complete MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF THAT Notorious Impostor Will. Morrell, alias Bowyer, alias Wickham, etc.  
Who died at Mr. Cullen's the Bakers in the Strand, Jan. 3. 1691/2.  
With Considerable Additions never before Published.  
Aude aliquid Brevibus Gyaris & carcere dignum,  
Sivis esse aliquid—  
Licenced, April 14. 1694.  
LONDON: Printed for Abel Roper and E. Wilkinson at the Black Boy over against St. Dunstan's Church in Fleetstreet, 1694.   

TO Gabriel Balam, Esq  
SIR,  
A Fair Name in the Frontispiece of a Book, is by long Custom reckoned as Essential a part of it, as a Portico is of a Temple. And yet as Panegyrics are their common Furniture, Dedication is the nicest part of Writing.  
For though the Honest Poet, like the Faithful Painter, draws not beyond the Life, 'tis still but a sort of Labour lost. For as Modesty is the Finishing Struck to the Complete Gentleman, That Patron that is the most worthy of Praise, is the least fond of it.  
And if we stretch into that nauseous Extreme of Flattery, the Panegyric is turned into a Libel, by exposing what we pretend to praise.  
'Tis true, the Pretence of Dedications, is the borrowed Protection a piece of Scribble receives from the Noble Patron, under whose umbrage 'tis ushered into the World. When, alas, a great Patron is no more a Protection to a dull Book, than a Cesar's Face to a leaden Shilling. Wit and Sense stand only upon their own Legs, and go no farther than their own intrinsic Merit carries them. The World, at least the Judicious part of it, is not to be so cheated. There's no passing off that false Coin for which every Man of Sense has both a Scales and a Touchstone. Wit runs the Fate of Belteshazzar: The [Mene Tekel] is certainly written over our Heads, if we are once weighed and found too Light.  
But supposing some favoured Author, cherished by the Smiles of a Noble or Generous Patron, takes this occasion (for that's the fairest Dedicatory pretext) of avowing his Gratitude to the whole World for such signal Obligations; yet this public Acknowledgement of past Favours, looks very suspiciously like a Design of drawing on of new ones too: So that to sum up the Cause, the Brotherhood of the Quill, if they would fairly unmask, should plainly tell the World, that there's a private Gratification goes along with the public Acknowledgement. For Men make Dedications as Votaries make Thanksgivings: The bend Knee is not wholly for Blessings received; but for some little Continuation too of the kind descending Smiles.  
And, I'faith, now I am playing the Telltruth, and making thus bold with the Poetic Fraternity; this common Fault amongst them may well be excused: For to Apologise for the Muses in their own Native Dialect, I need but quote a Stanza in Gondibert.  
O hireless Science; and of all alone  
The Liberal! Meanly the rest each State  
With Pension treats: But this depends of none;  
Whose Worth they reverently forbear to rate.  
If Poor Poetry is put to such hard Shifts (for maugre our Gondiberts fair Flourish, that's the plain English) to be so wholly unprovided for, that the Muses have neither Lands nor Livings annexed to their Foundation, but are wholly supported by Goodness and Favour; whilst all other Studies, whether in the Long or Black Robe, have their Preferments, as warm Gowns, soft Furs, fat Glebes, and fruitful Crops, and what not: And Poetry, as much as 'tis charged with Fiction, yet, like Truth, goes almost naked: Under these Melancholy Circumstances it may well be permitted some Grains of Allowance, as an Unhappy Dependant upon Courtesy.  
But whilst I am thus plain in correcting Faults abroad, I ought to look at home, as having a much weaker Plea for my own Dedication, when being so altogether a Stranger to you, I dare be guilty of this Presumption. This indeed I ought to have considered: But when I find the Ingenious every day making their Court to you, and the more eminent Priests of Apollo, the more successful and no less deservingly so, all assiduous Suitors to your Favour; so many fair Examples are that Warrant for my Ambition, that I lay hold of any Occasion, though at a farther distance, of making one of the Train.  
You have that Air of Sweetness and obliging Temper, a Conversation so grateful, as renders you the Favourite even of Both Sexes.  
But if I proceed to sum up your fair Character, I shall transgress the Laws I have laid down, and offend that Modesty, as has an Ear too tender for that Subject. Not to enlarge therefore upon your other Merits, 'tis sufficient, You are so great a Cherisher of the Muses and the Stage, that that single Virtue alone has encouraged me to the Confidence of this Address.  
All I have truly to blush at, is the slenderness of the Present, this inconsiderable Trifle I offer you. However, as the Crow presented to Cesar, be pleased to give it the same favourable Acceptance, as indeed (like that poor Crow) saluting you with the same [Hail] only with more Zeal, and tendering you the humble Obedience of  
SIR, Your most Devoted Servant E. SETTLE.   

THE Notorious Impostor: Or the History of the Life of Will. Morrell alias Bowyer, etc.  
THIS Famous Rover, from the Multitude of his Titles, to begin with his right Name William Morrell, was by Profession a Chirurgeon; and more than twenty Years ago, for many Years together, a Practitioner of good Credit in Banbury; where his Industry honestly got him, by his Practice, a comfortable Subsistence, with which he maintained himself, his Wife and Family very handsomely, till about twenty Years ago he began to be very Lazy, and much addicted to hanker after the Conversation of the Gentry thereabouts: And being a Person very Facetious, and his Company not disacceptable, he screwed himself into the Society of the best Quality round about, and would be a Month or two a Guest at several Great men's Houses: More particularly he some time since insinuated himself into the Favour of a Worthy Gentleman near Banbury, viz. Humphrey Wickham of Swakely Esq whose Person and Character he pretended to represent, and in which Imposture he made his last Exit. His Original it was very Obscure, and his first Start into the World, was in no higher a Post than a Journeyman Shoemaker, in which Character he lived some considerable time at Worcester, understanding so little of what he professed at Banbury, viz. Chirurgery, that he knew the Virtue of no other Plaster than his own Cobler's Wax. From that Employment, he took a Frolic to Sea; from whence returned, he came to Swakely, with the true Privilege of a Traveller, his Authority unquestionable, he talked Miracles both of his Voyages and Adventures. For Example, That he had made a Voyage to Constantinople and Barbadoes, (for East and West were all one in his Geography;) and so amused the Countrypeople with his Rhodomontadoes, that they looked upon him as a Prodigy of a Man. His great Art he professed was Chirurgery, (the little he had of it being indeed gotten on Shipboard,) and what with promised Wonders, and great Words, the common Crutch of little Abilities, together with some Favours and Countenance received from Captain Wickham, (a common Charity from so worthy a Gentleman,) which very much heightened his Reception, he made shift to rub through the World.  
But to begin our History in order: From his Conversing with Gentlemen and Herding with Quality, Business began to fall off, his many Rambles from home soon made his Practice flag; when the Glass and the Bottle came into play, the Salvatory and Plaister-box went out: And his Patients could not well stay for the Setting of a Broken Limb, or Tenting a Green Wound, till our Esculapius was to be called, the Lord knows where, and found the Devil knows when. This Trade continuing, the other fell to decay; till at last Poverty began to peep in at his Window, and Duns to hover about his Door. In these little Exigencies and Necessities (for the Gentleman's Tables abroad would not fill the Bellies at home; nor would Hunting or Hawking pay Landlord's Rent) his Wants put him upon Shifts and Artifices for his Subsistence; and what with a Natural Wit, and a pretty large Talon of Confidence, the pressing Hand of Fortune threw him upon several Tricks and Frauds to hold his Head above-board. But not to trouble you with any of his lesser Diminutive Exploits, the Infancy and Nonage of his Activity, we do not think fit to treat you with these peltier Adventures, but even set him out in one of his noblest Achievements, and paint our new Guzman in some of his boldest and fairest Colours.  
Accordingly he Equips himself with a Sturdy Young Country-Fellow, a Ralpho to our Hudibras, and takes a Knight-Errantry one day to a Fair at Brayls in Warwickshire, his Habit between a Grazier and a plain Country-Gentleman; where Santering about with his Man Tom (for so his Squire was titled) at last spying a Knot of good likely Kine (near a Score of them.) Ah Master, says Tom, what a parcel of brave Cattle are these. Ay Tom, replies the Master, I am sorry I saw them no sooner; these would do my business to a T; but as the Devil and ill Luck would have it, I have laid out my whole Stock already, and so I'll even set my Heart at Rest. The Country-Fellow, the Owner of the Cattle, seeing a Gentleman of his honest Appearance surveying his Beasts, and hearing every word that passed between the Man and Master, (for they took care to talk loud enough to be heard) thought he had got a good Chapman, and desired the Gentleman to draw nearer and handle the Cattle. Handle, answers Tom, what for? You know, Sir, you have laid out all your Money already, and what should we handle Cattle unless we had Cole to buy 'em: I confess they are for your Turn above any I have zeen in the whole Vair; but that's nothing, the Money Master the Money. The Money, replies the Countryman, Troth that shall make no Difference, nor break Squares between us; if you and I can agree, the Cattle are at your Service: I suppose you are some honest Gentleman hereabouts, and the Money will do my work next Market-day. Pray what may I call your Name? My Name is walter's, replies our Cattle-Merchant. walter's, Master, answers our Countryman, What any Relation to his Worship the Noble Sir William walter's? Ay, Friend, a small Relation, a Brother of his. A Brother of Sir William ' s! Off goes the Country-man's Bonnet at the next word, and a long Scrape made; for no Respect was too great for a Brother to a Person of such eminent Quality. My Cattle, Noble Squire, Ay with all my Heart. In short, after much ado, to make the Countryman be covered before him, he fell to treat about the Price of the Cattle, in which he bargained so warily, that they had almost parted for a single Shilling in dispute between them. But at last the Bargain and Sale concluded, Tom is commanded to drive home the Cattle, the Money to be paid next Market-day, and the Countryman has the Honour to drink a Pot at parting with his Worshipful Chapman our Sir William's Brother. This Feat performed, he takes a walk round the Fair, and picks up a pretty Country Girl, a Mason's Daughter at a small Town about four Miles off, and gives her the common Country-Civility of a Fair, viz. a Glass of White-wine and Sugar. During this Entertainment of our Young Damsel, he is most desperately smitten with her Beauty, insomuch that our Inamorato must wait upon her home to her Father's House, nothing but Death and Despair attending if he cannot have that extraordinary Happiness. The Girl, who by this time had learned his Name and Quality, was not a little confounded at the pressing Importunities of a Person of his Worth, to a poor Girl of her little Capacity; and notwithstanding her modest Refusals, felt a secret Pride from so kind an offer, and at last accepted of his Service home. No sooner was she got safe handed home, and her Mother and Daddy were privately whispered what Honour they received from such a Visitant; but the best the House could afford was not good enough for him: After the courser Compliments of [Lord, Sir, such a Person of Quality under our poor Roof] and the like; the best welcome that could be made him was not wanting: Nay, for what was deficient at home, the whole Neighbourhood was ransacked to lend help toward the Accommodation. Our new Lover, not to balk a good Cause, openly professes no less than honourable Matrimonial Affection to his dear Conqueror. Estate he wants none, and Portion or Quality are below his Consideration, the Satisfaction of Love is the only thing in the World he resolves to gratify.  
The Father and Mother are much astonished at such an Addresser to their Daughter, nor is the Daughter herself a little surprised at it, though of the two her Wonder is the least; for her Sexes natural Frailty was so apt to make her think it the pure Effect of her own sweet Face, that the Power of her Charms, and the Quality of her Captive was not altogether (she fancied) so extraordinary an Adventure. In fine, Our passionate Admirer bushes on his Suit with all the Vigour and Application imaginable, and truly you may well conceive so weak a Resistance could not well hold out long against so Puissant an Assailer: The Siege is pressed home, and in three short Days the white Flag is hung out, a Parley beat, Articles concluded, and the Fort surrendered. Our Damsel, in short, commits Matrimony; and the whole Family is not a little transported at such a Noble Alliance. Thus Wedded and Bedded, Our new Couple are all Honey and Sweetness, and though Sir William Walter's House was not above a dozen Miles from thence, his Adopted Brother all safe and secure, sleeps in the soft Arms of his young Bride with all the Rapture of Pleasure and Delight. After three Revelling Days were spent in Feasting and Joy, the Father-in-Law and himself enter in a close Cabinet Consult about providing for Family and Settlement. He tells the Old Man, that truly his Brother the Knight will undoubtedly take no little Dudgeon at this Match, not that he cares a Farthing for't. He has married the only Creature of the World he can Love, and he is resolved to Cherish her accordingly. But however, to manage Affairs with Discretion, he thinks it his best Prudence and Policy, to get his Trunks and the Writings of his Estate safe out of his Brother's Hands, before he publishes the Marriage. And for that purpose he has no better Way than for his Father-in Law to help him to a small Cart and a couple of able Horses, and to drive to his Brother's, and take up his Trunks, etc. And considering he had laid out all his ready Money in Cattle at Brayle Fair, he desired the Favour to furnish him with Ten Pounds, that he might not be unprovided with a little of the Ready about him, in case of any Rupture between his Brother and himself, till he could furnish himself better amongst his Tenants.  
The Old Man very readily embraced this reasonable Proposition, and though truly the Sum of Ten Pounds was above his Stock, nevertheless, living in Repute amongst his Neighbours, through great Solicitation, some forty and some thirty Shillings, and such like Sums, with much ado he raises the Ten Pounds desired; and more and above he procures two very able Horses and a Cart to bring away the Treasure aforesaid, etc.  
By this time his Man Tom having Sold the Cattle, is come to wish his Noble Master Joy of his fair Bride, and so the Master and Tom, attended by a Brother of his Bride, an Honest Country Swain, who though so highly honoured with his new Affinity, is at present planted in no higher a Post than to be a Mate to his Man Tom to drive the Cart, set forwards, etc.  
The Brother-in-Law, Cheek by Jowl, with the Fore-Horse of his small Team, drives on very merrily for about Nine of the Twelve Miles to Sir William's, entertaining his Worshipful Relation with the very best Tune he could Whistle all the Way they travelled.  
But now within Three Miles of Home, our politic Bridegroom thinks it adviseable, that one of his Carters, the Brother, should make a Halt at an Alehouse where they stopped, and the whole Management of the Cart and Horses be entrusted with Tom, for fear the Sight of a Stranger to come to take up Goods at his Brother's might give Occasion of Curiosity and Inquiry, whereas Tom, an old Servant in the Family, with less Suspicion and Inspection might do it.  
These strong Reasons (or indeed weaker would have served turn) were satisfactory enough, and so the Gentleman Equipping his Brother Clodpate with a George to stay and Drink till they returned, the Master and Man fairly drive on, for the remaining three Miles to bring off the Bag and Baggage, etc.  
The Potent Sum of a whole Half Crown to be laid out in Ale, set in our Country Youth to a hearty Carouse with the kind Hostess of the House, where the Esquires Health was over and over remembered, not forgetting the Great Man at the Great House about Three Miles off, where, as simple a Country Fellow as he was, he expected one Day to be better acquainted.  
But to draw this Adventure towards a Conclusion, our waiting Carter long expecting the Return of the Brother, the Palfreys and the Cargo, notwithstanding the Strength of powerful Ale, and his Sweet Land-Ladies diverting Company, began at last to be Impatient; sometimes he fancied the Loading was too heavy for the Poor Beasts, and he thought it his best way to walk out and see if he could meet them: But all Inquiry was in vain, Night at last drew on, and the best Part of his Half-Crown melted down; at length, though very Uneasy and Restless, he is persuaded by his kind Hostess to take a hard Nap till Morning. The Cock was not so soon awake as he, for to tell Truth, he ne'er slept at all, though indeed he dreamt all Night, for he could not think less, than that some Retainers of the Family had undoubtedly followed the Cart, and murdered the Squire to run away with the Treasure; and what his poor Sister would suffer to be a Widow so early, was little less than a Mortal Apprehension. Thereupon very betimes in the Morning, he pads to Sir William's, and very earnestly inquires what was become of the Squire, the Knight's Brother. Sir William's Brother, replied the Servants, we know none he has; 'tis true, he had one some Years beyond Sea, but whether dead or alive, is more than any Man upon English Ground (God wot) can tell. How! No Brother-in-Law Squire! No Sir William's Family! No Sister like to be a Lady, nor Brother a Gentleman! Nor no Horses nor Cart neither! This staggering Account put him into so doleful a Dumps, that he stood almost Thunderstruck. And truly the twelve Miles home again, was so tedious a Journey, and the lamentable Narrative he must make 'em at home, so killing a Fancy, that it was a great Mercy he did not make a Stay upon some convenient Twig in some Hedge in the Road, rather than live to be the Messenger of such a woeful sad Tale— But ill News at last must out. The Bird and the Beasts were all flown; the poor Bride sweetly brought to Bed, a Cart and two Horses to pay for, a Son-in-Law to find when the Devil was blind, the Daughter's sweet Play-thing lost, the Father and Mother dipped Ten whole Pounds in Chalk, and the whole Family under the suffering of a whole Chamber-pot full of Wail and Tears for their Calamities and Misfortunes.  
But to return to our Rover: By the Sale of Cart and Team, Ten Pound in Cole the last Lump, and the Price of his Kine the other, his Pockets were pretty well lined; and considering this Spot might soon grow too hot for him, he thinks it wisest to shift the Scene, and thereupon dismissing, for some time, his Man Tom, who had pretty well licked his Fingers in so profitable a Service, our Grazier now transmogrifies into a Spark, and very sprucely rigged, takes a Ramble Westward, where meeting with no Adventure worth recital, in some small Time he gets to Ludlow. There taking up the first Night at an Inn, his Garb (though unattended by Servants) soon made him good Reception; his first Inquiry was to learn out the eminentest People in the Town, of which being readily informed by the Drawers; he learned, amongst other Relations, that there was a Substantial Wealthy Tradesman, had two pretty Marriageable Daughters: Being directed to the House, he addresses to the Father, telling him he was a Berkshire Gentleman, and intending to make some small Abode in Ludlow, he did not think fit to continue in a Public House, but would gladly gain Admission to some Private Family. The Tradesman (whose Name we will not mention) being a Widower, and taken with the manner of his Discourse, kindly invited him to his own House, which our Travelling Gallant as kindly embracing, Accommodation was made, and he was lodged that very Night at this Private Landlord's.  
His Entrance here gave him the Opportunity of daily conversing with no mean Wit and Charms in the two sweet Daughters of the Family; and our Gallant, very apt to take fire at but a small matter of Beauty, especially with a Portion at the Tail of it, felt no little Wambling at the extraordinary Accomplishments of the Elder, somewhat the sweeter Creature. But this new Adventure was not an Enterprise so easy as the last; this Sire of some Fashion, was so far above the Education and Extract of his former Father-in-Law, a Man of Mortar and Trowel; and his Daughters of a Reach and understanding so much beyond the other's humbler Capacity; that Measures must be quite altered here from those that he took before. Accordingly, now his Discourse was always upon Foreign Subjects, himself and his own Affairs the least Part of his Talk; and if any inquisitive Question, either by Father or Daughters were made relating to his Family or Concerns, he answered with that Modesty, and almost Silence to all Demands of that Kind, that he left their Curiosity still in the Dark; and which indeed was so much Heightening to the favourable Imaginations they had conceived of him; that they doubted not in the least, but he was of eminent Quality; and what any boasting Vanity would have made 'em rather suspect, his Modesty on the contrary confirmed. 'Twas some few Days before they enquired his Name, for which he had ready at his Tongues End, the Name of a very great Family in Berkshire; but not descending to Particulars, the Remoteness of the Place did not gain 'em much Intelligence of his Quality from only the bare Name. All this while, at some little distance, he dropped a great many complaisant Words to the elder Sister, which looked very much like Love, and which he indeed desired should be so interpreted. In this Conversation, now of a Fortnights Continuance, he had rendered himself so acceptable to the whole Family, that a great many favourable Thoughts on all sides inclined towards him. The Address to the Daughter, at last looked a little more plain and barefaced, and at that Time a Fair happening at Ludlow, where he had been diverting himself with seeing of Fashions, he came home in much Concern, and some kind of Passion, much greater than hitherto they had at any Time seen from him. Certainly there is no Place in the World (says he passionately) so retired, but some Devil or other will still find out and haunt me. The Oddness of this Expression invited the elder Sister to ask him what he meant. Why truly, Madam, (he replied) I have been hunted from three or four Towns already, for in spite of all my Resolutions of living incognito, some unlucky Person or other comes full in my Mouth, and will betray me in spite of my Soul. This Answer did but heighten her Curiosity, and having, as she thought, some little Interest in him as a professed Servant of here's, she was a little the bolder in pressing the Question; and therefore plainly asked him why he lived incognito, and what Accident had now discovered him: To this at last, with a little more Frankness than he had hitherto used, he replied, the Reason of his Ramble from his Family, with his Living three or four Months past unknown to the whole World, was only to prevent the Ruin of a Sister, who, like a foolish Girl, was in much Danger to be undone by a Beggarly Match she was too fond of; and her Portion being in his Hands, he had absented himself from his Home, lest the Softness of her Tears, the Importunities of several Advocates in Behalf of this indigent Lover, together with the Weakness of his own tender Heart, might at last be prevailed upon to grant his Consent to what he knew would be his Shame and her Undoing. And as Ill Luck would have it, he had unfortunately tumbled upon a Countryman of his, now at the Fair, who would infallibly run open mouthed to his Sister and his Family, and tell 'em all where he was. This Discovery gave a good Occasion to the fair Examiner to be not only a Pleader for her own Sex in the Person and Cause of his unknown Sister, but likewise to be a Champion for Love. For now she plainly told him, that a great many Grains of Allowance were to be made, where Hearts were inseparable. If this Lover of his Sisters was a Man of Sense and Quality (as neither of those he could deny him) it was a little barbarous in him to oppose the whole Repose and Contentment of so near a Relation as a Sister, for so sordid a Consideration as a little Worldly Interest. Besides, there was a Providence always attended Faith and Truth in Love, and undoubtedly sooner or later would provide for their well-being, or else enable 'em to bear a meaner Portion of Riches, which others perhaps might, less contentedly, possess. This Argument was almost the daily Discourse, in which she seemed to gain some little Ground, but not enough to persuade him to the unreasonable Grant of his Sister's Desires.  
About five Days after comes a Letter directed to him at Ludlow, with the Post Mark upon it very authentically, which in a very legible Woman's Hand contained these Words.  
Dear Brother,  
WHat unhappy Star am I born under, to suffer all this miserable Persecution? Certainly, when my Father left me to your Disposal, and tied my Portion to your liking of the Man that must marry me, surely he could never have died reconciled to Heaven, could he have foreseen the Slavery he tied his poor Child to, in putting me into the Power of so cruel a Brother. To run so many Months from your House, your Family, nay, your Honour too, (for what must the censuring World talk of you) and all to break a poor Sister's Heart. Oh shameful! To hide yourself from the World, and run from Mankind, only to shut your Ears against Justice, and to be deaf to all Goodness and Humanity! Alas, what Capital Crime have I committed, who only loved a Gentleman, in Birth and Blood no ways my Inferior; and what if an unfortunate Younger Brother's slender Patrimony of a Hundred a Year is not answerable to a Portion of Two thousand Pounds. A wonderful Cause to make me the most unhappy Creature living, in refusing me the only Blessing the World has to give. How many fair Steps to Preferment and Honour lie in the way of so accomplished and so well-related a Gentleman, notwithstanding his Elder Brother run away with the Estate; and what good Fortune have I not to hope for, if your Barbarous Aversion did not interpose between my Felicity and me. In short, resolve to return home, and be kind to your Languishing and almost Despairing Sister, or else expect very speedily to be visited by her at your Bedside in her Winding-sheet. For if Ghosts can walk, and your Barbarity has sworn my Death, expect to be eternally haunted, as you shall deserve from—  
Your Distracted—  
The next Post four or five Letters more came after him; one from his Bailiff, to desire him for God's-sake to come home again; for the Devil a Farthing would his Tenants pay till they saw their Landlord. A second from one of his Tenants, complaining of his bad Crop, and the low Price of Corn; and that unless he would bate him Twenty Pound a Year Rent, he could never hold his Farm; earnestly desiring his Worship to come home, and take care of his poor Tenants, etc. A third condoling his Misfortune in the loss of his Eldest Son, and desiring to see his Sweet Worship's Face, that he might get him to put his Second Boy's Life into his Copyhold; and others of the like Import.  
These Letters our Spark left in his Closet Window; and one whole day going abroad, by a pretended Negligence, he shot the Bolt of his Closet Lock out of the Staple, and so left his Door a-jar, and his Letters exposed to any body that would please to read 'em. This Stratagem succeeded to his Wish, for the Daughter, whom I may now call his Mistress, knowing him safe abroad, had dropped into his Chamber when the Maid was making the Bed, and finding the Closet Door open, made bold to peep, and spying his Letters there, tips the wink upon the Maid, whom she made of the Council, and read 'em all out. The Contents put her mightily upon the gog; for certainly she concluded he must be a Man of a mighty Estate, so many Tenants, and the Lord knows what; and if a Sister had Two thousand Pounds, what must an Elder Brother possess. After she had conjured the Maid to silence, she could not forbear running to her Father, and telling him all she had discovered. The Father at first reprimanded her Curiosity, but considering he had found out a Love Intrigue between his Daughter and him, he thought it no unwelcome discovery. At last looking very steadfastly upon his Daughter's Face, with a sort of a kind Fatherly Leer, he cried, Ah Child, would he were a-bed with thee. How, Father, replied the Girl blushing. Nay, no harm (quoth the Father) Chicken, that's all. Thou sayst he makes love to thee, and troth I must own it no small part of my Ambition, to have a Person of his Quality and Fortunes for a Son-in-Law. In short, The Father gave her very seasonable Admonition; for having sounded her Inclinations, and found 'em to his own wish, with a Fatherly Authority he commanded her, if his Addresses hinted at Marriage, to make him all reasonable Advances that way.  
Our Gallant found his Plot had taken; for he had critically observed in what most particular manner and station, to a quarter of an Inch, he had laid his Letters; and finding all of 'em displaced more or less from the exact point he had left 'em, he plainly perceived they had all of 'em been read. Besides, in compliance to her Father's Orders, and indeed a little to her own Inclinations, he discovered her usual Coldness to him a little diminished, and her Aspect more favourable, which plainly told him the Bait had taken. Whereupon one Evening, finding her alone in her Garden, with a Confidence more than usual, he plainly spoke home, telling her what an inestimable Blessing he should acquire in possessing so much Sweetness for a Wife.  
A long Courtship ensued, the Particulars too tedious, only the Girl was a little more pliant than ordinary, but much doubting the Integrity of his Protestations; alleging, it was very unlikely he would debase himself to marry a Creature of her mean Fortune; for all she could at present challenge, except what her Father might do for her after his decease, was only 100 l. left her in her Father's hands by an Uncle deceased. Our Gallant presently, with much disdain, seemed to slight all thoughts of her Fortune, for that, he thanked Heaven, he wanted not; and truly her dear Person was the only consideration that had fixed his Heart entirely her Captive. To bring him to the happy Point, 48 hours are not past, before he comes to reap the fair Fruit. The Marriage-knot is tied, and the Nuptials consummated, and Joy and Felicity runs high between them.  
In this happy State, and uninterrupted Delights, they continued some days, when of a sudden his old Servant Tom, booted and spurred, comes to Ludlow, and now in a little higher Station than before, in the Garb and Figure of one of his Bailiffs, he comes Post thus far; first, To tell him the Distraction of his Family, occasioned by his absence: 2dly, The Lady his Sister's sudden departure, God knows whither, for she went away by night, two days before he set out from home, and has not been heard of since. And that a Letter was come from Bristol, intimating that his Venture in Sherry was safely landed there, and that the King's Customs came to 97 l. but his Correspondent at Bristol being lately dead, the Custom was yet unsatisfied; and truly for his part none of the Tenants would pay him one Groat till they saw their Landlord again, and therefore he could not raise the Money to satisfy it. Our new Bridegroom hearing all this, presently communicates the whole matter to his sweet Bedfellow, desiring her to get her Father to accommodate him with that Sum; not that he asked it as any part of her Uncle's Legacy, he scorned to be so poor-spirited; no, he requested it as a Boon, and the moneys should speedily be repaid with Thanks: Which if he pleased to do for him, his Servant should fall down the Severn, and take care of his Wines, of which his dear Father-in-Law should have one Hogshead to drink to her Hans en Keldar. The Daughter was a speedy and successful Embassadress, for the Money was presently laid him down in Gold, for the more ease of his Servant's carriage of it. Tom had not been two hours gone, but a Footboy in a very fine Livery brings him a Letter from his Sister, signifying her extreme Concern for his deserting his Affairs and Family, and that her Griefs and Disquiets had made her take a long Ramble to see him once more. And that she was now at Hereford, not daring to approach any nearer, till she had his gracious Warrant and Permission, which she humbly upon her bended Knees entreated of him, with a great deal more passionate Courtship to him upon that Subject. Upon perusal of this Letter he seemed to melt into a great deal of good Nature and Compassion for his dear Sister, insomuch that a Tear stood in his Eyes, which his sweet Bride very kindly drank in a Kiss. At length launching out into a great many tender Expressions towards his Sister, which Goodness his kind Bride much applauded and encouraged, throwing in many a kind word in her Sister's behalf. At last the Brother concluded he would be so civil to her, that since her extravagant Affection had brought her thus far to visit him, he would return her the Favour of riding himself to Hereford to fetch her, if his kind Father would procure him a Horse. Ay, with all his Heart. Nay, both Father and Daughter proffered to take the same Journey with him, to pay their Respects to the young Lady, and attend upon her as part of her Train to Ludlow. No, by no means, replied our Spark, that was more than the Rules of Honour would allow. For his Dear Bride, as his Wife, was a Person in Quality above her, and whatever Kindnesses she pleased to show her, when at Ludlow, was in her free Power; but this complaisance was too great a Condescension, and consequently he begged her leave, that the Tenderness he had of her Honour, might absolutely forbid her any such thought. And indeed his Father's was much the same Condescension, which he must likewise no way suffer.  
The Father and Daughter both silenced with this answer, acquiesced with his Reasons, as being much a more experienced Master of Ceremonies than they could pretend to; consenting to let him go alone, only attended by the Sister's Page; in the mean while resolving to apply their officious Respects to this fair, though yet unknown Relation, another way, viz. in making a suitable Preparation for her honourable Reception. But first a very stately Horse was borrowed, one that a Colonel of the Guards had lately bid a lumping Sum for, with all Accoutrements answerable. And at mounting, our Cavalier whispering in his Father's Ear, and telling him he had been long from home, and not knowing whether his remaining Stock might hold out to his present Occasions, he desired— The Father would not hear out the Speech, but running up stairs presently, fetched down, and stole into his hand a silk Purse richly lined with Twenty Broad Pieces.  
Our Squire thus every way obliged, after his due Congees all made, bids them all Farewell till to morrow, and so prances off. Here let us leave the Father and Daughter as busy for the Credit of the Cause, as may be imagined, making all suitable Provision for to morrow's Entertainment; the Kitchen, and Pantry, the Bedchamber, and the Court-Cupboard, must all appear in Splendour extraordinary.  
And now to return to our Traveller: Heaven knows he had the Misfortune to miss his way, for he never found Hereford nor Sister. His Barb too found another Chapman than the Colonel of the Guards; for both Horse and Accoutrements all embargoed, and the dismounted Cavalier slipped into a Frize-Coat of his Man Tom's providing, who waited his coming, the Master, Page, and Tom, in a small prepared Vessel, troled down the Severn as fast as Tide and good Speed could carry them.  
As we thundered down the Severn, one of our Strollers being at present useless, our Page (well rewarded for playing his part in the Farce) is dropped at Worcester, from whence we continue our Voyage to Bristol. Arrived there pretty late in a Summer's Evening, 'tis not thought convenient to appear in any Dress whatever had been seen before at Ludlow, nor indeed to expose his Face, lest any Inquiry might be made there about him as a Sherry-Merchant; and so trunking up all his best Raiment, he gets himself new rigged at a Salesman's in a genteel Garb, but something modester than his Ludlow Bravery, and Tom and he next Morning move off to Bath.  
It fortunes here, that he Quarters at one of the great Inns, it being the beginning of the Summer, just before Bath time, where was a brisk Daughter of the House, about half way Stage between 20 and 30, and consequently much inclinable Manwards. A Girl that had had the Honour of many a slap cross the Mouth, and chuck under the Chin by Lords and Earls in her time, her Father's honourable Guests at Bath-Season. Our most constant Lover of every new Face, feels the old Itch again; business he finds will thicken upon him, and therefore flushed with his late Successes, he resolves to throw out his winning Hand as far as it will run.  
But now to know what Portion this Damsel had, for without a Spill of Yellow-boys, naked White and Red has but indifferent Charms with him. This Intelligence was quickly made, without ask the question, for there was a Jest in the Family of one of the Drawers being Suitor there, who belike wanted a tight Sum of 80 l. to set up withal (a small Portion of hers formerly left her by a Grandfather, and now at use.) This Drawer, forsooth, was a Rival, but not an over-formidable one. For truly our Innkeepers Daughter had so often been tickled with the Addresses of Quality, that (Foh!) her Father's Drawer was scarce worthy to hold up her Train; a Gentleman or nothing for her. Nay, if she has not the Happiness to strike in for a Lease for Life at Bed and Board with some honourable Person, rather than die in Ignorance, keep a stale Maidenhead, and so lead Apes, she has long since resolved not to stand out at a lower Game, and even admit a Tenant at Will to an Inmate of Fashion and Quality; and was grossly suspected she had tried the Constitution of her Body, under a Load of Honour long before her present Year of twenty five. But true or false, that's a small Blot in her Scutcheon.  
Our Don John is absolutely captivated, and plies her home with all the Rhetoric that Love can afford. Our Man Tom in the mean while but very modestly, is whispering amongst his Mates, the lower Tire of the Family, the Servants, what a Worthy Gentleman his Master is, being a Rich Norfolk Gentleman (a pretty large Stride from bath) of 500 a Year. This Narrative passes pretty well amongst the shallower Pates, the Chamberlain, the Tapster, the Hosler, and the rest of the inferior Domestics; but our hard-faithed young Mistress of the House, whether bit before, or naturally not over-credulous, does as good as declare, That her Principles are to look before she leaps. Our Norfolk Suitor finds his Addresses very acceptable, but still with a Reserve, Provided he be the Man he appears. He plainly sees, that the Girl, upon good Grounds is very pliable, but she's a little past the Years of being dandled and kissed out of her Reason: He or any Man else (any Tooth good Barber) with Honour and Estate may go far with her; but Demonstration is the only Argument that must carry her Cause. As many Years as she has lived (or at least past for) a Maid, she is not so hard set, but she can tarry till Substantial Testimony (as far off as Norfolk lies) can make out the Lands and Tenements, before she consents to an Enclosure. Our Spark therefore put to his last Trumpets, finds this last a craggier and more difficult Enterprise than any he had ever yet encountered; however, thinking it a very great Scandal to his Wit, to lie down before her, and shamefully for want of Ammunition, be forced to raise the Siege, he sets all his Brains at work for one last Mine to blow her up; or if that take not, he is resolved to quit the Field. In a day or two after he begins to be melancholy and indisposed; during this Fit, he is very cold in his Love, and applies him to Religious Books, talks much of very odd Dreams he has had, till at last he takes his Bed. Physicians are sent for, whether they found any real Indications of Sickness or no, or acquiesced to his own Declaration of the Pains he felt, no Medicinal Application was wanting. His Distemper increasing, he desires a Man of Law to be sent for, accordingly a Scrivener of the Town is called, who draws up his Will, in which he gives away about Three Thousand Pounds in several Legacies, leaving his Nephew his full and sole Executor. The Will is sealed up, and delivered to his Man Tom; and all the Cognizance taken of his Mistress, is only 10 l. to buy her Mourning. Next a Man of God is sent for, and all the necessary Preparations for a Man of another World are made. His Conscience settled, and his Viaticum for his long Journey most devoutly furnished. But it pleases Fate, or the Sick Man rather, in some few Days after, to give some small Symptoms of Amendment, and to shorten the matter, in Eight or Ten Days time he is pretty well recovered, and the next Talk is of fancying his own Native Norfolk Air for perfecting his Health; all this while the young Damsel, who, though not called to the Will-making, knew all the Contents of it, and finding from all Hands, the great Uprightness and Devotion of her humble Servant, could not fancy that so much Religion and Piety could be an Impostor, and therefore she doubted not in the least, but the Estate in Norfolk was unquestionable; and though indeed her Prudence would still incline her to a full Inquiry and satisfactory Account, yet 'tis now too late, her cooling Admirer talks of speeding to London; and though he professes he will leave his Heart behind with her, She is afraid that new Faces and better Fortunes will soon shake her hold there, and therefore taking her Pillow upon the Business, she resolves not to slip so favourable an Opportunity, but to lay hold of the Forelock, and take a good Offer whilst she may have it: For with all her natural Pride, she considers herself but the Lees of a Tap; and 'tis not every Rich Gudgeon will bite at a Bait so blown, and so stale.  
Her departing Lover still pressing for his Journey, the good-natured Girl watches the next amorous Sally of her Gallant, and takes him at his Word, and without ask Advice, thinks her own Wit sufficient, and in two Days time enters into for better, for worse. The Town-Bells soon rung All Joy; and the bed Hogshead in Daddy's Cellar run Claret. His Honourable Guest and Son-in-Law was the little Idol of all the Virgins of the Town, and the envied Preferment of sweet Mrs. Betty had filled all Tongues; and scarce a Prayer offered up for a Husband, but Mrs. Betty's Felicity was made the Pattern of their Devotion.  
But now, as the Devil would have it, our dignified Bride is for having her Dear Spouse, by all mean, doing her and her Father the Honour of staying out the whole bath Season (now coming on) amongst 'em, and nothing can divert her from that Resolution. This is a very unwelcome Proposal; for the Multitude of Faces from all Quarters of the Kingdom, may not only be very dangerous to his Circumstances, but likewise his Norfolk Abilities, long before that Time, may be examined too narrowly; and therefore not being able to make any harsh Refusal of his fair Bride's Request, lest it should look like Design, and to marry a young Girl, and be ashamed of her Parentage, would appear so unkind, that he has no Artifice to wean her from bath, and drill her out of Town, but by pretending a small Relapse of his Indisposition, which he acted so well, that he denied himself the very Pleasures of Love, and fell off from Family-Duties. This Curtain-Failure began to moderate her Passion for staying an bath, for her tame Bedfellow still preaching up the Virtues of his own Native Norfolk Air, his poor defeated Bride could not but have a Womanly Longing for so necessary a Restorative, and thereupon for so important a Medicine to her feeble Yoke-mate, she consented to go along with him.  
All her fine clothes were boxed up, together with several Bed and Table-Linnen, etc. (for she had pretty good Movables, all the Legacies of deceased Aunts and Grannies, and other good Kin) and all sent by her Man Tom to the Carriers, and two Days after Places took in the flying Coach for their speeding to London.  
But one main thing was almost forgotten. She had called in her Portion, which for a Guinies Gratification the Scrivener had ready at an Hours Warning, having at that time some other People's Money by him undisposed, and hers being out upon Mortgage, the Owners were very well pleased to make an Exchange upon the same Security. This Money was not to be trusted by the Wagon, but to be carried up with her in the Coach-Box, for which her Man Tom begged her Acceptance of a little Gilt-leathered Trunk that happened to be just small enough to go into the Coach-Box. The Day of setting out being on the Morrow, her thoughtful Spouse had nicely considered that the Coach would be in London half a Day before the Carrier, which for some Reasons you'll find in the Sequel was not altogether for his Convenience, and therefore he made a shift to put off the Journey till next Coach-Day.  
Against that time the Gilt-leathered Trunk, and the Key to it was delivered her (though by the buy he had got two Keys) and the 80 l. some Broad Pieces, a Caudle-Cup, half a dozen of Silver Spoons, and some other Toys were all stowed in it; and the Kind Couple are trundling away for London, with the Man well mounted riding by.  
Now, as a Man of his Estate, he had freely given her all her own Portion, a small Privy Purse to buy her Pins with, having Married her only for Beauty, and much disdaining the Addition of so small a Sum to his plentiful Fortune. The first Stage being done (for they had but one Night to lie by the Way) the small Cabinet of Treasure was carefully taken out of the Coach, and lodged in a Closet in the Chamber, and next Morning delivered to Tom to see safely laid in the Coach-Box as before.  
The next Night arriving both at London (whither Tom about Brentford was commanded by his Master to speed a little before to prepare for their Reception) a very fair Lodging near St. Jame's was ready to entertain her, but no Tom had been there; and coming to open the Trunk, instead of the Gold and Silver Entrails there was nothing but a Bag of Stones, and a Piece of a Brickbat to supply their Places, enclosed in a few Rags that stuffed up the Trunk. This amazing Sight threw the poor Lady into a most violent Distraction, and 'twas very hard to hold her from falling into a Fit, her Husband seeming as much amazed as herself, and joining in the Complaint as loud as she. But to abate her Rage, he told her the wicked Rogue should not so escape, he had very sufficient Security from able Friends for his honest and faithful Service, and their Purses should make her Reparation, till when the Loss should be made up out of his own Pocket. Nor would he sleep till he had made her some farther Satisfaction, and therefore begged her Excuse but for one half Hour till he took Coach, and made that Search and Quest that perhaps would bring her some considerable Light into the Villainy. Her Zeal for her Loss never looked any farther, and accordingly well pleased with the kind Motion, she took leave of him for the half Hour aforesaid.  
But, alas, a long half Hour, for half the Evening, nay the whole Night was gone, and neither Man nor Master to be heard of. So Husband and Portion all departed, she thought fit to secure her Goods and clothes at the Carriers, but the same Calamity attended there likewise, for Tom had been there too, and swept all.  
To describe the Distress and Anguish of our present Female-Sufferer, or either of her two foregoing Sisters in Affliction, being a work beyond our power, we shall even do as the Painter did of old, that is, draw a Veil before the Face of Sorrow, the Lineaments of true Grief being above the Pen or Pencils Skill.  
His continued good Luck at the Female Quarry succeeding so prosperously, he has hardly snapped and gorged one, before he's for flying at a second.  
Leaving therefore this last Wife to shift home, not only Penny-less, but almost naked too, it being then in the gay time of Summer, he buys him a very stately Gelding, and prances down to Slough near Windsor. There taking a Genteel Lodging, and throwing off his old now Hackneyfied Disguise of the Country Gentleman, he assumes the Character of a London Merchant; and tho' the little distance of twenty Miles laid the Scene very nigh, and consequently (one would think) exposed him to something more hazard than any of his former remoter Pretensions, however he is so flushed with Success, and thereupon so hardy an Enterpriser, that he reckons upon Fortune now entirely his own, as no less than bound to his Cause, and her Smiles as secure, as himself her now darling Favourite is fearless and undaunted.  
His Tent therefore pitched at Slough for the best part of this Summer's Campaign, with sufficient of Gold, and what not, in his Pockets, he contracts (amongst other Country-Acquaintance) a great Intimacy with the Minister there. And at length praising the good Air of that Country, and the Sweetness he tastes in the Conversation thereabouts, he desires the Parson (his now Intimate) to inform him of some Purchase of fifty, sixty, or, rather than fail, seventy Pound per annum somewhere near there; if a good House upon it so much the better; otherwise it will put him to some few Hundreds extraordinary Expense. If any such Purchase can be found, he shall be gratefully thankful to him: For resolving to get him some Country Seat for a little Summer's Retirement from his Fatigue at London, he has not met that place in the World that pleases him better. The Parson kindly replied, That truly he did not yet know of any such Purchase, but he would make it his Business to inquire, and inform him accordingly.  
It falls out here that he insinuates into the Conversation of a Country-Gentleman that had a very pretty Daughter, to whom he could give Five hundred Pound Portion. Through his Acquaintance with the Father, he finds Opportunity and Access to the Daughter, and in a little time professes downright Love. Now besides a great deal of Wit and Sense in the Daughter, here was a very Judicious and Sensible Man to her Father, and likewise a very Ingenious young Gentleman her Brother, all three to be coped with; insomuch that the highest of Prudence ought to be used to manage the Amuzement, and fence off all Curiosity and Enquiry, which (considering how near London lay) might dash the whole Plot. For that purpose he no sooner declares his Passion, but at the same time he utterly abjures all Pretensions to a Farthing of Portion, (if he may be so happy as to succeed in his Love) that truly his Affairs and Circumstances are far above so poor a Thought. Whatever her Father's Goodness did or might have intended for her, he is free to keep for the bettering the Fortune of so hopeful an Heir of the Family as the young Gentleman her Brother: It is enough that the Possession of her dear Person is all his Ambition, and if after all his prosperous Ventures both at Sea and Land, to Crown his Felicity he can but carry this last dear Prize, he has all he wants in this World. Nor is Beauty the only Charm he finds in his dear Mistress, her Virtue is her most captivating Perfection. Alas, if he had sought either Face or Fortune, those were to have been found nearer home, and possibly where he was better known, viz. in his walks upon the Exchange, and thereabouts whatever personal Wants he had, however his other Qualifications would have made him no hard Access to very considerable Fortunes. But as his Natural Jealousy of Town-Beauties had all along made him somewhat colder in the choice of a London Wife, he declares that the vanquishing of his Heart was reserved only for some sweet Country Innocence, which truly he had never met with till now.  
This Declaration carries a very pleasing Face every way: Here the Daughter for her part has the Heart of a Rich Merchant of such vast Estate, that her inconsiderable Portion is not worth his Acceptance, and consequently if she can like the Man, she has all the reason in the World to embrace the Addresses of so qualified a Suitor. Here are Father and Son likewise under no occasion of Complaint, for one is like to save Five hundred Pound by the Bargain, and the other to get as much: And therefore 'tis a Match they ought not to oppose. And to put all Suspicions out of their Head, what Reasons have they to misdoubt his being the Man he pretends, for he had then a pretty many Years upon his Back, and therefore unlikely to commit so boyish a Folly, to take the Luggage of a Wife with never a Groat with her, unless he had wherewithal of his own to supply that Defect. Besides, here was all the Appearances possible both of Honour and Honesty in his Daughters Inamorato, for more and above the daily Management of his Discourse, and his prompt Answers and Insight to all Affairs in the World, which discovered a Person certainly of public Business, his Port and Figure he made amongst them, together with the Grandeur of his way of Living, confirmed their entire Belief and Confidence. And to conclude all, who could suspect a Counterfeit that would Cheat for nothing.  
During his Courtship he presented his Mistress with a very Rich Gold Watch, and as he gained ground not only upon her, but went a great stroke with the Father and Son, who were mighty inclinable to the Match; at last he pushed home, and gained the Consent of all Parties concerned. The Father and Son were of Opinion that they should all go to London, and the Wedding and Bedding work should be all done there at his own House in the City. With all his Heart, replied the Spark, only one Inconvenience attended that Proposition: For it would be impossible for him to Marry in London, without dragging a great deal of Noise and Trouble at his Heels: For unless he would disoblige more than a Hundred eminent Citizens, his particular Friends (which in Honour he could not well do) he must be forced to make a public Wedding of it, and so draw on a great deal of Ceremony and Hurry, which truly (might he be chooser) did not agree with his Inclination. Nevertheless, if they so pleased, he was ready to acquiesce to their absolute Commands. But otherwise, for prevention of all that, if he might direct, he would desire to divide his Blessings between the Country and City, viz. have the Happiness of Marrying her in the Morning at Slough, and then have the Honour of their good Companies with him to London, and there Bed her at his own House.  
This appeared so highly reasonable, that three places are ordered to be taken in the Windsor Coach to morrow for London, and the Marriage to be solemnised early before the Coach sets out. And accordingly our Lovers, who wake with the Lark, are the next Morning devoutly joined together. When the Nuptial Rites were performed, and a small Collation prepared before setting out, he publicly again declared his Protestations against all Pretences to a Portion. However, as he had now taken the dearest Creature in the World into his Arms without any such Claim or Pretention, and the longest day of his Life he should maintain her to the highest Dignity and Grandeur of a City Merchant's Lady, as much as if she had brought him Thousands of her own to do it with; yet as perhaps there might be some Wedding-Garments, and other small matters wanting suitable to his Bride, he durst not presume to make her any Present of that kind, lest possible it might be some little Indignity and Reflection upon her own Honour in accepting of any such offer; and therefore that part he left to her and her Relations Pleasure and Discretion. He putting them in mind of that necessary Point, appeared more like a piece of Gallantry than any thing else from him. And thereupon both the Father and Bride take a whisper privately together, and immediately the Closets and Cabinets were rumaged, and near a hundred Guinea's mustered up, and stowed in a small Casket to carry with her to London, to rig her in all ample manner accordingly. As they merrily travel along, the Father, Bride and Brother in the Coach, and the Bridegroom en Cavalier riding by, taking a little start before 'em upon Hounslow-Heath, he comes back furiously galloping to the Coach-side, and with much Concern bids 'em have a care, for he was certain there were Highwaymen before in the Road, and he much feared the Coach would be robbed. This put the Travellers into some small fright, and all of 'em (for the Coach was full) into a very great care how to preserve the small Treasure they had about them. Nay Gentlemen, replies the Spark, for that small matter I have about me, I fear not all the Thiefs in Christendom to take from me, for though I profess myself no Swordman to Fight for it, yet, I thank God, I have a Horse has such a pair of Hee●s, as I defy any Man in England (especially upon this open Plain) to outride me. This Hint made the poor Bride immediately request his securing some small things of hers, and thereupon she gave him her little Casket, and her Gold Watch to carry for her, withal desiring him to speed off the safest way he could, and tarry for the Coach at the Red Lion in Brentford: Her prudent Example encouraged some other Passengers in the Coach to desire him to do them the like Favour; one Lady in the Coach desired him to secure a Diamond and a Gold Ring of hers, which she took from her Finger; another Gentleman clapped a Purse of near twenty pieces of Gold into his Silver Tobacco-box, and besought him to give it Sanctuary in his Pocket to Brentford. In short, some other small matters were presently entrusted to his Protection and Preservation; and so being desired to troop off with all speed, and to meet them at the general Rendezvous aforesaid, our Merchant puts Spurs to his Steed, and the Coach trundles leisurely after him.  
At Brentford they arrive safely in some little time after, and making a halt at the Red Lion, inquiry is made, if a Gentleman so mounted and so dressed was there. No, answer was made, no such Man was there; but upon examining, the Horse and the Rider they had described, that very Gentleman, about half an hour ago, was seen to ride almost full speed through the Town towards London.  
The Bridegroom so strangely out-riding his Stage, put the whole Company into some little Consternation, but the Bride more especially, it being a matter of no mean Surprise to her, to have a Bridegroom so unkind, or so Frolicsome at least, to Ramble away from her on her very Wedding-day in so odd a manner. A great many several Descants were made upon it by the whole Company; but as all of them happened to be some small Neighbours to Slough, and had either conversed with this Honourable Merchant during his abode there, or at least had heard of his Fame, it was concluded of all Hands, 'twas only intended as a Jest, and so they all moved on towards London, not doubting in the least but to find it so.  
When they arrived at London, the young Lady, as Guarrantee for her Bridegroom, though she could not well invite them with convenience that Night, besought all their good Companies to morrow at Dinner with her at her House in Lime-street, there to call their Trustee to an account, and to laugh out an Afternoon with her upon their Travelling Adventures.  
Having thus dismissed their Fellow-Travellers, a Hackney-Coach is taken to drive to Lime-street: When they came there, and such a Merchant's House was asked for, a Name very like it was found in that Precinct, but both the Gentleman and House they inquired for, were utterly Strangers to all the Inhabitants round, and neither that Night nor next whole day could give them any Tale or Tidings of her new Husband. However in all this utter Darkness, as she is left in Ignorance, she has the Comfort to be left in Innocence too, for thanks to her kind Stars there was no Consummation in the case, as much a Wife as she is, she is a Virgin-Bride at least; and as much cheated as they have all been, our young Spouse has the Satisfaction of that single happy Escape to counterbalance all the rest of her Losses. What Reparation our fair Promiser made to her Fellow-Sufferers in the Coach, our Story mentions not, but the Father, Son, and Bride, returning by weeping Cross, they found this Farewell Epistle at their arrival at Slough.  
My Sweet Bride,  
AY too Sweet, God wot, to be so lost. Had we but consummated, my Chicken, had I but got the Virgin-Toy signed and sealed, my Sweeting, it had been a Prize worth all the other Treasure. But my hard Fate had otherwise decreed; and I must even sit down by my losing Bargain. But my Dear, notwithstanding my abrupt parting, prithee do not conceive hard Thoughts, nor fancy me a Masquerader; for though my House is removed from Lime-street, upon my honest word I am a true Merchant, and have hooked in my Venture. Pray Comfort your Condoling Fellow-Travellers, and assure them their Movables I took into my Protection are all very safe, and that I shall take all possible care in performing my Trust in keeping them so. And now Child, if thy Defeat of a Bed-fellow should set thee a-gog for a new Husband, for thy Consolation let me tell thee, that I am fairly drawn off to make room for a happier Successor; and at thy next Prayers for a Man in thy Tables to fill up the Blot I leave open; thank Heaven thou hast scaped so well, for thou hast received the first Mercy I ever showed thy Sex before; and so dear Widowed Turtle Farewell.  
This Adventure so luckily concluded, our Wife-Merchant takes a little Recreation in London, and then tired with Ease and Idleness, he thinks it high time to look out for new Game. His Rambles have hitherto mostly lain Westward, and his Success he has gotten there, invites him to try his farther Fortune a Field the same Road. Down therefore his Galloper and he set out, and meeting nothing in the Way worthy his Achievement, he fixes at last at the Town of Wells. Here he is a Country Gentleman again, his Name Bowyer, Brother to Sir Charles Bowyer. This Town happily afforded a Boarding-School for young Girls, where the Fair Recluses generally are not altogether Nuns Flesh, and where notwithstanding the watchful Oversight of those Guardian Dragons the Governesses and Superintendants, Love too often leaps the Pale, and many a bold Jason very luckily moves off with a Golden Fleece.  
At this Castle 'tis resolved our next Batteries shall be levelled; only all the hardest Work here is, the making his Approaches. For that purpose he inquires first, who and what the Fair Inhabitants are, and the like; where he is soon informed of several considerable Fortunes amongst 'em; but most of 'em either under Guardianship or Parents, and though allied to pretty considerable Effects, the Lash is in Hucksters Hands. The carrying the Damsel, will not finger the Gold, and our Business being only to snap and away, a lighter Cargo than those unwieldy Portions does our job. And accordingly he discovers one just sizable for his Turn. A Tradesman's Daughter, her small Portion about 150 l. and all in her own Hands, or at least in her own Power, her Parents and Friends all dead, and therefore at her own Disposal, and likewise something of the Elderliest for a School-miss, being indeed about 20 Years of Age.  
'Tis resolved then to fix here; and, for a handsome Initiation, his first Attak is only from his Eyes; he sees her first at Church, where his whole Devotion is so intent upon no other Object, that he gives her Occasion to observe him. His Gentile Equipage, and, in a Stranger too, might very well draw some Eyes in a Country Congregation; and this young devoties were not so wholly tied to her Prayer-Book, but hers might rove a little: She no sooner saw him, but she met a very Passionate and Long-wishing-Look returned her: If her Curiosity peeped a second time, she found him in the same Posture, his Eye never off of her. And this he continued Forenoon and Afternoon, in such a manner, that it was impossible, even for Indifference itself, not to Remark him.  
Next Morning he makes some means to get the Company and Ear of one of the Sub-Governants of the School, a Matronly kind of a Tutoress. He cannot tell what Malleable Metal she's made of, and how far she may be tempted to betray a little Trust. However he resolves to try. And if she be to be shaken, at least he'll use the most Persuasive Arguments to assail her.  
Accordingly, having first begged the Favour of a full Hearing, he begins to lay open his Case in manner following. First, he discovers his Birth and Quality, a Brother to the Honourable Sir Charles Bowyer: Secondly, Though a younger Brother, yet provided with a Plentiful Patrimony to keep up the Port of a Gentleman. Then, that yesterday at Church, he had seen the only Sweetness upon Earth that he could truly Love: That it was some Extraordinary Destiny that had brought him thither, to lose his Heart to so Lovely a Creature: And then telling his Name (which his Love had made him inquire into) the present Suit he had, was, to obtain the Conversation of that Sweet Gentlewoman, that he might have the favourable Opportunity of declaring his Passion to her; which Access, understanding the Strictness of the Family in which she now lived, and under what Confinement she lay, he had no Hopes of accomplishing, but through her Means: And, that if she would vouchsafe to be the kind Instrument in gaining him his Request, he should not only be bound to her the longest Day of his Life, but likewise make her a Gratification suitable to so signal an Obligation. The Gravity of our Tutoress seemed a little Surprised at this Motion; but, before she could make any Reply, he continued his Supplication to her; by telling her, That for Heaven's sake she would believe his Intentions to the young Lady were nothing but Honourable, that had his Designs been so wicked, as to aim at, or overreach any young Fortune in the House, as such he understood there were several there, he should be the greatest of Villains. But that Love, and only Love, was his Design, was manifest in his Addresses to this young Gentlewoman, who (as he was informed) was but a Tradesman's Daughter, of little or no Fortune, or at least very inconsiderable to a Person of his Circumstances and Birth; and therefore she had all the Reason in the World to believe him a Person of Honour and Integrity; and 'twas as such he desired her to serve him in the Request he had made her. She hearing him protest so heartily, and profess so honourably, could not but be a little attentive to so reasonable a Suit. But being herself a Woman of Principle, and naturally faithful to her Trust, she could not forbear making him this Answer: Sir (says she) you have the least Reason in the World to seek my Assistance in this matter; for if you are that Lover, and that Gentleman you profess yourself, your Quality and Pretensions to this young Woman are sufficient to make your own Way to her, without wanting my Help. What need has a Gentleman of your Fortune and Honour to seek to a poor Servant, as I am, to introduce you so meanly, as a private Suitor to this young Maid, when you have it in your own Power to make a more Public Declaration of your Love; and undoubtedly, so Qualified as you are, have all Encouragement to hope for Success? If you please, therefore, I'll tell the Governess, and when she shall have examined all things requisite to the Discharge of that honest Duty, as the Tuition and Care she has undertaken shall require of her; she will be so far from opposing your Access, that certainly you may expect all the fair Reception your Heart can wish. This Answer being not the present Point we must gain, our Squire (before prepared for a Reply) seemed extremely pleased with her for her Fidelity. That truly she was highly to be commended for so Conscientious a Scruple, as to the admitting of a Stranger, as he was, to any thing under her Guardianship. And that truly the Advice she had given him, was but very Reasonable; and that if he should make open Love to this young Gentlewoman, he might possibly have Hopes of succeeding. And really it was the only Course he would take, but for one only Obstacle, which was, that though indeed, as a younger Brother, he had above 300 l. per annum already in good Land of Inheritance, a Competence sufficient to maintain a Family indifferently well; yet as he was next Brother, and indeed as the presumptive Heir to Sir Charles, an unmarried Man of Thousands a year, and was at present transacting with him about a considerable Addition to his Estate, and other very eminent Friendships expected from him, he was under an invincible Necessity of making an Amour of this kind, one of the greatest Secrets in the World, lest his marrying so inconsiderably might lose him his Brother's Favour, and thereby defeat so advantageous an Expectation. Not but he loved the young Creature enough to run a thousand times greater Hazards for obtaining so sweet a Blessing: But however, What Folly and Prodigality would it be, to expose so main a Part of his Wellbeing to so dangerous a Venture, when there was so little Occasion for it? For he, could he reach so great a Blessing, as to obtain her for his Bride, yet it would be worth his while to make both his Wooing and Marriage, for some time, an absolute Secret, for so valuable a Consideration. And he that resolved to enter into Matrimony, was, in all Duty, bound to take the best Measures to make a Married Life comfortable, by making the best Provision to support it with Credit and Reputation. And therefore 'twas, that he was forced to supplicate her private Assistance in the Affair which she could not well blame, under so important a Circumstance; and therefore stealing a Brace of Guinea's into her Hand, he once more entreated her to gain him some Admittance to the young Lady's Conversation, as silently as possibly her Goodness could contrive. I cannot tell, whether the Arguments, or the Gold, or both together, prevailed, but to shorten the Discourse, 'twas agreed that Evening, an Hour after Sunset, that he should come to the Garden Back-Gate, which was accordingly done.  
And not to tyre the Reader with the Narration of the Wooing, let it suffice that he obtained three or four private Meetings, and a little Courtship well managed prevailed and conquered. By the Assistance of this Matronly Confident, the Business is concluded, and the Girl steals out one Morning and Marries him. He had not been long Married, but continuing the old Plea of Silence and Secrecy so necessary on his Brother's account, he gets her to call in her small Portion, for her own use, making it his free Wedding-Gift, all to be disposed in buying her clothes, and the like; and so makes all speed to London with her. At London he provides her a very genteel Lodging, still leaving all her Portion in her own Custody. He had not kept her Company two days in Town, but he comes home in great haste and surprise, telling her that his Brother, by some Accident or other, had heard of his Marriage. But as 'twas impossible he should know what Woman he had Married, he had one favour to beg of her which she must not deny him, which was, to pretend herself to be a young Devonshire Lady of such a great Family, and such a Fortune: By this means he should win his Brother's Heart, and hasten that additional Settlement, and the other Favours he expected from him; and though indeed it was a little piece of Fraud, which truly he was never guilty of before in all his whole Life; yet considering the Advantage so Innocent a Deceit might gain them, he conjured her by all their Loves to join with him in it, and carry on the Mask till he had gained his Point. The poor Creature, soon persuaded, consents to his Request, promising her acting the best part she could in the Disguise, since it was his Pleasure and Command to have it so.  
Having obtained her Concurrence in it, he tells her these Lodgings were too mean for a Woman of her Birth, and therefore he would presently take her a fine House at Greenwich four Miles out of Town, and have it furnished suitable to his and her Quality.  
At Greenwich a House is instantly provided; and what by the Pretensions of this great Match, he strikes in with a confiding Upholster for a Rich Bed, Tapestry Hangings, and very sumptuous Furniture in most ample manner. Nay, he carries it on so far as to gain Credit for several Hogsheads of Wine, which were likewise wafted down to Greenwich. The young Wife all this while seeing him make such splendid Provision for her, never in the least suspected him for less than high Quality, and indeed was utterly Ignorant that all this Gallantry was taken up upon Trust, and mostly raised upon the noise of her vast Devonshire Portion that was very speedily to pay for all.  
After this Countryhouse was thus Richly set out, pretending Business one Morning early to London, he returns again between Ten and Eleven in great haste, that truly he had occasion for about an Hundred Pound, and having laid out more Cash than his Returns from his Estate in the Country could at present supply him, he desired her to accommodate him with that Sum out of her Money, which in a Fortnight at farthest should be made her up again. The poor Girl very readily gave him the Keys of her Closet and her Cabinet, desiring him to take what he wanted. Immediately he goes to the Treasury, and having not leisure to stay to tell out the Sum, he took the whole Bag, which in Silver and Gold was about 140 l. which he would tell over at London, and bring back the Remainder, whither he desired her Company along which him in the Boat that stayed to carry him back. Yes, with all her heart, if he would please to stay till she dressed herself, being then only in her Morning-Gown. No, by no means, he replied, no matter for dressing herself, she was well enough dressed for that little Company she should see to day. And so without farther Ceremony she trips into the Boat with him, and so away to London.  
When he came there, and had fixed her at her old Lodgings, he desired her to have a little Patience till his return from Lombardstreet, where he was going to pay this Money: But before he went, giving her a kind Kiss or two: Lord, my Dear (says he) this plain Wedding-Ring upon thy Finger is too poor for my Wife! I am going to pay this Money to a Goldsmith, and prithee give me thy Ring along with me, and I'll put a Diamond into it.  
The Ring, upon so good an Account, was presently delivered him, and a very low Courtzy dropped him for the promised Diamond. Away goes Husband, Money, and Ring, and the Wife staying with her old Landlady, waits for the return of her kind Spouse: After a great deal of Patience pretty well tired, and many a Sigh to pass away time, Evening at last draws on, and no Husband appears. To Greenwich she dares not return, 'tis now too late at Night, and too dangerous travelling so unseasonably. And so taking a soft Bed, but a hard Night's rest in Town, she gets up early the next Morning for Greenwich, where instead of Husband or House, she finds the Furniture, Bedding, nay the very Wine in the Cellar all carried off; and so neither Husband, Money, nor clothes, but the loose Undress she had upon her Back; she is left to a whole Deluge of Lamentation, and the King's Highway fair open for her to steer back to Wells, or what other Hospitable Coast she could find in the wide World before her.  
This Marriage-Trade thriving so well with him▪ he left it not off till he arrived at the number of eighteen Wives; in which several various Cheats and Disguises were practised according to Time, Place and Circumstance. At Kedderminster he passed for Sir Charles Bowyer's Brother again, and there married an Inn-keeper's Daughter, from whom he hooked out several Pounds, besides spunging upon her Father; where he continued a very considerable time, and wrought himself into that entire Credit with his Father-in-Law, that when some of his Neighbours made bold to ask him, How he could repose so much Confidence in a mere Stranger; and after his Daughter had been so long married to him, to make no Inquiry into him all this while? Inquiry! (he replied very briskly) Trouble not your Heads about that Business; I am very well satisfied in him, and know well enough what he is. His Wit and Breeding, and a hundred other genteel Qualities, sufficiently assure me: Nay a Gentleman he must be most certainly, for I have observed him, he will never Dine without a Bottle of Wine.  
In Holbourn he courted a Rich Vintner's Widow (but there he was a little higher advanced into the Honourable Family of the Bowyers, for than he was Sir Charles himself) and so far tickled her out of her small Reason, by the high sound of a Ladyship, that the Wedding-clotheses were making. Nay he took her along with him to a Goldsmiths in Cheapside, to bespeak a very large quantity of Plate, amounting to about 200 l. No sooner did he enter the Gold-smith's Shop, but he kindly shook him by the Hand, and gave him so many familiar How-do-yees, as if he had been his long and intimate Acquaintance; where bespeaking so much Plate, and such a Coat of Arms to be engraved upon it, the day was set when it was to be called for. Before that day he was to receive 600 l. from his Steward in the Country, which he had sent for up to pay for this Plate, and other necessary Nuptial-Habiliments. But the day drawing on, a Letter comes up by the Post from his Steward, intimating, That amongst all his Tenants, he could at present raise but 150 of the 600 l. he desired, and truly that small Pittance he did not think fit to return up, till he could make it a larger Sum, etc. This Letter was received in his Mistress' presence, and the Knight so enraged at his Steward's Neglect, that he fell into a very great Passion to be so defeated of his Expectation, especially at so critical a Juncture. The kind Widow seeing him so concerned, desired him not to be troubled at it, for if his present Occasions required, she was very willing to furnish him with it; and in fine, lent him 200 Guinea's to fetch home the Plate. But neither was the Plate sent home, nor Knight or Guinea's ever seen afterwards. The Widow somewhat impatient, trips away to the Goldsmith, to inquire if he had been there, and being answered in the Negative, she asked him if he were not acquainted with Sir Charles? What Sir Charles? Sir Charles Bowyer that bespoke the Plate. Truly not he; for to his best knowledge, he never saw him before that day. How, replies the Widow, never saw him before, when he knew you so well, talked so familiarly with you, discoursed of so many Affairs relating to yourself, that I durst have sworn he had known you this seven Years, and dealt in at least a thousand Pounds with you. Yes, replied the Goldsmith, all this familiarity he expressed, which as much surprised me as it does you: But it was none of my business to inquire of a Customer how he came so acquainted with my Concerns, or why he treated me so courteously at first sight: He laid me down Earnest in part for my Plate, and if 'tis your pleasure to pay me the remainder, the Plate is forthcoming. But when or where the Gentleman can be found forthcoming, that you know better than I; for as I told you, he is a Person I never saw before nor after.  
To prosecute the full Relation of all his Woo and Marriages, would be dwelling too long upon one kind of Subject, and therefore not so divertising to the Reader; for which Reason we have selected only these, as most entertaining of all his Amours.  
After he had accomplished near a Score of Marriages, he neatly counterfeited a Bill for 700 l. drawn upon an eminent Citizen; and so well managed all Conduct and Matters relating to it, that he received the Mony. But what with his Wives, and this last grand Cheat, he began to think little England would soon be too hot for him. And therefore buying three very gallant Horses, and Equipage and Accoutrements suitable, he got him cross the Herring-pond, and went a Volunteer to the Duke of Monmouth, then before Mastricht: His business here was more Flourish and Bravado, than any great Feats of War, any Martial Wonders he intended to perform. In Flanders he made a pretty long Campaign, for he stirred not from thence till all his Money was spent; and at length, when his dwindling Stock was so small, that his very Horses Heads grew a little too big, for a new Supply he converted them into ready Money; and when that last Stake was almost run out, and he had just enough left to land him safe upon English Ground again, he returned for London, and there setting in again at his old Play of Wiving, he Woos a Parson's Daughter of 500 l. Portion, and by virtue of the great Name of Sir Charles Bowyer, and other winning Arts he used, he Married her, and gained so far upon her Father, that he got One Hundred Pound in part of the Five into his Clutches. But not satisfied with that Modicum, but resolving to gripe the whole remainder too, he takes a House for her at Hampstead, where he lived some time very kindly with her, still plying her Father with all the softest and tenderest Management, to hook in the 400 l.  
But here, as Fortune will not always Smile, a Turn of her Wheel gives him a little stop to the Current of his Felicities: His Ludlow Wife had made no little Outcry with her Wrongs, and amongst other Search and Inquiries comes up to London, being the last place she has to make her Quest after this Impostor and Monster, for those are the gentlest Names her Sufferings and Resentments can give him. She has a great Opinion that Newgate or Newgate-Roll, or some other such Chronicles of his Renown, will give her some light into his Life and Fortune; and perhaps the Justice of Heaven afford her a fight of him at least, if not a power to execute Heavens and her Just Vengeance on so egregious a Reprobate.  
Her Inn being at Holbourn-bridge, she lights into the Company of a good Motherly Woman just come from Oxford-shire; the Sorrow in so young a Face, and the swollen Eyes which were not yet dried, the Fountain being indeed Inexhaustible, the Curiosity of the elder Traveller made bold to ask her the cause of so doleful a Look, etc. The young one (who now had no Reserves) plainly told her whole Sufferings: To which the Matron replied, Alas young Woman, what are your Griefs to mine? I have been many Years the Wife of the most Infamous Miscreant that the Earth ever bore; deserted and abandoned by the wickedest of Men, after long Years of Honest and Loyal Fidelity to his Bed, and exposed to Perish (which you, thanks to able Friends, need not fear) etc. with a great deal more bitter Invectives against him. Till at last upon further conferring of Notes, and describing of Characters and Persons, they came to jump together, and found themselves both abused by the very same Monster, the eldest being indeed his old Banbury Wife. What Amazement this Accident produced may easily be conjectured, it will be enough to tell you, that the Anguish of both their Souls, and the Bitterness of Gall on each side, made them Swear an inviolable Friendship, determining to search (if possible) the whole World, to hunt down this Devil. Accordingly they take a Lodging a little higher in Holbourn, where making no secret of both their hard cases, they open their whole Souls to their new Landlady, to engage her assistance in the Quarrel. The Landlady, transported at both their Narrations, fell upon her Knees, and blessed God he had sent them to her House, for this Lucifer they had described, was certainly the very Man that next Week was to Marry her Daughter. This Surprise put them all into new Confusion, and the Daughter being called to the Council, it was evident that this very Fellow had made Love to the Daughter of the House, the day of Marriage concluded, the Ring and Wedding-clothes preparing, etc. This last Deliverance made the poor old Woman, and the Daughter no less, melt into Tears at this happy Discovery.  
Well, 'tis agreed between them all, that they shall not stir till he comes thither, which will be in twenty four Hours at most; and all their united Vengeance, Constables, Warrants, and what not, shall be prepared for his Reception.  
This Resolution was heartily fixed amongst them, only the Banbury Wife would that Evening take a walk to a Cousins, a Citizen, where she had some important Affairs, but nothing should stay her abroad above an Hour; she had not walked half a Furlong, but Destiny, or some other ruling Power, threw her full in the Mouth of her Husband; her Passion at sight of him rose so high, that at first it could not find vent for words; which he perceiving, desired her to walk into a Tavern which was just before them, and there recover her Confusion. You may conceive she was very ready to accept the Invitation, her Stomach being so full, that 'twas the only thing she wanted to have her full swing at him. The Discourse of her part you may well guests at; but his Answer was so tender, and his Confession so open, that at last she grew patient enough to hear him out. He plainly told her all he had done, or at least the greatest part: That it was only the Effects of his Wants and Necessities; that now he had raised enough to re-establish him in the World; that the Hony-Moon of Love had been almost over between them; and that if he had made any Lapse in Disloyalty to her Marriage-Right, it was not Infidelity but Interest that had enforced him to all. And so showing her handfuls of Gold and Silver, he humbly entreated a Reconciliation betwixt them. Which good Words and Address at last so perfectly obtained, that he persuaded her to send for all her household-goods, and to live with him somewhere in the Liberties of Westminster, where disguising his Name, and amending his Faults, he doubted not, through his Practice, to recover a plentiful Being, and maintain her like a Woman.  
The poor Creature, absolutely mollified, promises Fidelity to him; and never returning to her new Lodging, takes him along with her, defeating the whole Vengeance that Was hatching against him; and not stirring from him till all her Goods were come up from Banbury, and a new House furnished with them. She had not lived there three days, till finding a Gossipping Errand for her to keep her from home a whole day, at her return at Night to Bed, she finds neither Husband nor Goods, Bed to lie, or Stool to sit upon; the whole House being utterly dismantled, and nothing but Nakedness and empty Walls to receive her.  
This last Cruelty of her Barbarian, made her almost run stark Mad, and returning to her Holbourn Lodging, to own her Frailty in believing an Infidel, and the Just Judgement that had befallen her upon it, she found the poor Ludlow Mourner departed; and all her Relief left, was to return to Banbury to live upon the Alms of the Parish.  
This Libertine Life of our Renegade, did not long continue, till found at last by the Ludlow Wife he was thrown into Worcester Jail; from thence by Habeas Corpus (at the Charge of a Parson in Southwark, whose Daughter he had likewise married) removed to Newgate; and upon an Indictment of six Wives appearing against him, being then Tried by the Name of Morrell alias Bowyer (a Name of a worthy Person of Quality, for personating of whom he had stood in the Pillory) he pleaded Guilty to those six and twelve more, and thereby received only the Punishment of a Squeeze in the Fist. Nevertheless, the Judges were pleased so far to commiserate the unhappy poor Women he had undone, but especially the Parson's Daughter, that they gave her leave to lay an Action upon him of 5000 l. by virtue of which, being still detained a Prisoner, he removed himself to the Kings-Bench: Here being kept within the Goal, he behaved himself so winningly, that he gained some Favour with the then Marshal, and had now and then the liberty to peep abroad. Improving and advancing in the farther good Graces of the Marshal, he obtained at last that extraordinary Credit from him, that himself and three or four more Prisoners, were one day permitted to take a little Ramble to a Merry-making, some little way out of Town; which lucky slip of their Necks from the Collar, they took that wise care to make so good use of, that neither our Sir Charles, nor his Fellow-Travellers, the Master or Mates, ever returned again. This escape made such a Clamour, that 100 l. Reward was set upon his Head, if to be caught in England. But this Pursuit soon cooled, for upon the change of Marshal, which soon followed, the Cause dropped, and he had full freedom to creep from his Covert, and turn Practitioner at his old Craft again; his Deliverance being in a manner complete, and his 5000 l. and the rest of his Load discharged.  
After his Heels were at liberty, his Pocket run but low; and he was forced to truckle to little Shifts, to put him in Stock again. His Pranks are scarce to be numbered, nor dare we pretend to trace them successively; and therefore we shall not tie ourselves up to Time and Order.  
For one of his common Feats, he got him a large Seal-Ring▪ and several other Gold Rings, all variety, as Plain, Mourning, and Enamelled, value together about 4 l. with these, by Confederacy, he would shame an Arrest upon himself by a couple of Marshal's Men, and being hurried into some Alehouse, he would call for the Landlord, pretend himself a Tradesman and Housekeeper as far as Wapping, Stepney, or some such remote place; then opening his Grievance, that he was Arrested for 40 or 50 s. and being too far from home to send for Money, he desired the Landlord to carry his Rings to the next Goldsmith, and see what he valued them at: The Landlord returns with the Rings, and tells him, the Goldsmith would give him something above 3 l. for them: Upon this, he desires the Landlord to pleasure him with 50 s. upon that Pledge, and he would come himself, or send (by such a Token) the Money the next day, and redeem them. The Landlord, ready to aid a Man in his Distress, in so reasonable a request, lends the Money, whilst instead of the Gold Rings, he puts the Legerdemain, and leaves him a set of Brass ones well Gilt, shaped, enamelled, etc. to a tittle, in every point resembling the true Rings; and worth about Half-a-Crown.  
One Day about high Noon he came to the Poultry-Compter Gate, wanting a Sergeant to execute an Attachment for him: So giving him his Instructions and Fee, he desires him and his Yeoman to follow him to such an Alehouse in Leaden-Hall-Street, where he would wait for them. To the Alehouse he goes, and takes a Lower Room which looked into the Street, where calling for a Tankard of Ale, and soon after spying the Bum and his Follower approaching, he whips out of his Codpiece a Pewter Tankard, slaps the Drink into it, and returns the Silver one into his Breeches. As soon as they entered, and asked him for the Gentleman, he told them he would cross the Way, and see if he had dined yet, and come over, and call them immediately to do their Office. Out he trips, and there being a Thorough-fair over the Way, neatly conveys himself off; till at last, the Sergeant waiting beyond his Patience, calls for the Landlord, and desires him to fill the Tankard again. Fill the Tankard (quoth the Host) what Tankard! This is none of mine. My Tankard is a Silver one. How, a Silver Tankard (replies our Man-catcher.) This was all the Tankard in the Room since he came there. That want serve turn: Their Comerogue and Confederate that had left them, had a Tankard of him, price 6 l. 10 s. and Tankard, or so much Money must be found before they parted. A great many hard Words rose on both sides; but in fine, the Attacher himself was now under Attachment, and moved not off, till a Reckoning of 6 l. an Angel, and some odd Pence, was discharged.  
At Woolwich he pretended to be a Doctor of Physic, and professed an infallible Remedy he had for the Gout. A Gentleman, an Inhabitant there, long afflicted with that Distemper, retained him as his Physician: but his grand Receipt requiring a Fortnight's Preparation, he squeezes some Money out of him for Materials to the Operation, and puts several Earthen Pots, with the pretended Ingredients, for Fourteen Days under Ground, against which time the expected Effects were to be produced. But it so unhappily fell out, that before the Elixir came to perfection, he was arrested by the Name of Bowyer, and thrown into the Marshalsea. The fourteen Days expired, and the Doctor in Durance, the Patient made bold to dig for the Treasure, and examine the Pots; where, to his great Satisfaction, in each Pot he found about half a dozen straggling Maggots, which indeed was their whole Contents: But what Cures they wrought our History mentions not.  
Between five and six Years since, he tries one Touch more at Marrying, but truly not so high a Flier as formerly, he contents himself to lay Siege to Nan, the Cookmaid at the Castle-Tavern at Fetter-lane end; and to attack her in no less formidable a Figure than the old Sir Charles still. So Worshipful a Matrimonial Suitor (you may imagine) tickled her not a little, for the Title of a Ladyship could not but make a strange rumbling in a Kitchin-stuff-pot. The poor Girl was soon inclinable to listen to such potent Love. Our Sir Charles makes quick work on't; and though her kind Master and Mistress daily laughed at her for fancying him in earnest with her. Our Lover was so well furnished with Rhetoric to set her to rights again, and so absolutely persuaded her, that he meant nothing more than to marry her, that at last she contrived to feign herself Sick, whilst her Knight, under pretence of a Condoling Visit, was to steal her down Stairs, and march off with her. This Plot taking effect, he kept her our ten or twelve days; in which time he wheedled her out of all the Money she could raise in the World, being about the Sum of Twelve Pounds: But when he had drained all he could get from her, at last he began to grow so cold to her, that he denied her one Morning a Pennyworth of Milk; which being no longer able to bear, she returned to her Master with a very sad Heart, much wailing the Barbarity she had received, and the Ruin she suffered. At the return of poor Nancy, the Knight was flown; and though unsuspected before, now her Master and Mistress with good Reason believed him a Cheat; and being concerned for vindicating the Injuries of their Servant, they dogged him at last into White-friar's; and fetching him out thence by a Constable and Warrant, he was committed to Goal, tried for an Impostor, and stood in the Pillory before their Door.  
One very notorious Cheat was much in use with him within a Twelvemonth before his Death: For instance, He comes one Morning to an eminent Tavern in Holbourn near Hatton-Garden-end, his Habit a plain Countryman, with an Oyl-skin Hat, a shabby Periwig, a large Buff Belt round his Waste, a pair of Boots without Tops, a Whip in his Hand, and a Hundred-Pound-Bag under his Arm: Here he bargains for a Hogshead of Sack to be sent into the Country; whilst the Carrman is loading his Wine, he pretends very urgent Business he had to do before the Carrier goes out of Town, insomuch that he cannot well stay and pay for his Wine; for which reason he desires the Master to lay up his Bag of Money for him, till he can call in the Afternoon and reckon with him; but first taking out (for a blind) a handful of Money, between thirty or forty Shillings for present occasion, he seals up the Bag again, and leaves the rest in the Vintner's hands.  
And now resolved to play the Good-husband, and do two Jobs with one trouble, whilst the Carr is loading, he goes to a Linendrapers' in Newgate-street, where he buys a parcel of Linen near 30 l. and as the Carrman comes buy, he packs up the Linen, and mounts it into the Carr. Here pretending his old haste, with another hundred Pound Load under his Arm, he plays the former Prank, and gives the Draper the Bag too. Now no Countryman coming to reckon (as promised) they both make bold the next day to unseal their Treasure, and see what Security they had in their Custody; when to their great Surprise, they found a parcel of new Halfpences stowed round the Bag, with a lesser Bag in the belly on't, filled with Fragments of old Iron. This Prank was hitherto pretty well carried, but Fortune of late Years a mere Jade to him, had a very unhappy Aftergame to play him: For the Vintner and Draper happening to meet together, to condole Losses and confer Notes, they chanced to remember, that one of the Carr-man's Steeds was a remarkable pie-balled Horse. Hereupon making inquiry amongst the Fraternity of Car-men, by the Marks and Tokens of that Horse, they found out the very Man that drove off the Chattels; who what by Threats and other persuading Arguments, they prevailed to lead them at last to a House in the Mint, where the Wine and the Drapery were both lodged. Here they made a shift to recover the whole Prize, excepting about five pounds' worth already embezzled, being pretty well content to sit down by no greater loss.  
In much the like manner, and much such a Habit, he came to a Cutlers in Fleetstreet, and leaving such another Bag there, under pretence of showing some Swords to his Master at a Coffee-house hard by, he carried off three silver Swords.  
For the same Feat of Activity, he came to a Coffee-house adjacent to Pater-Noster-Row, where the Master of the House was a Tailor, whose Company and Advice he entreated, desiring him to go along with him to some of the Mercers in the Row, to look upon some rich Silks which he wanted, for a Countty-Gentleman's (his Master) and a young Lady's Wedding-clotheses; the Tailor, in kindness, handed him once or twice to several Shops: But one Morning, leaving his Bag behind him at the Coffee-house, he went alone to a Mercers, a corner Shop in the Row; where he cheapening some rich Stuffs, flowered with Silver and Gold, a Haberdasher of Small Wares passing by, and happening to set Eye upon our Chapman, made bold to lay hands upon him, and carry him off to the Cock in Amen-corner; his Charge against him was, for leaving him the Bag too for about thirty Pounds in small Wares. But noise and crowd coming about him, fearing that other Complaints might appear against him, and so load him heavier than possibly he might be able to stand under, our Haberdasher wisely resolving to take care of no body but himself, danced him from House to House, till his Country-Chapman could raise Effects to make him Satisfaction; and so having, with much ado, hooked in his own Bet, he turned him lose again, for the other open mouths against him, to take as fair a Hunt for him as he had done. After this mortifying Adventure, whether out of a Principle of Modesty, a Virtue not often in fashion with him, or some other Forgetfulness, the Bag left in the Coffee-house was never called for from that day to this; and keeping of it about three Months sealed, at last they ventured to break it open, in which they found about six Shillings in new Halfpences, and a lesser Bag filled with pieces of old Iron, a great deal of which, as Memorials of his Renown, they have kept by them for Relics.  
About the Year 1672. he pretended to a great Estate in Northamptonshire, and carried it on so far, as to borrow four hundred Pounds upon the Mortgage of it, of a Hampshire Gentleman. At Hannington likewise in Hampshire he married a Minister's Daughter, and entered into Bond and Judgement of a Thousand Pound to Jointure her in fifty Pound a Year, by which he got Two hundred and fifty Pound out of her Father, as part of her Portion.  
In Piccadilly, about five Years since, he went to a Horse-Coursers to buy a Horse, and after he had bargained for, and bought him, he desired to back him to try his Goings, and road off with him before the Horse-Courser's Face, and sold him in the Country for four Pounds.  
But now to hand our great Master Actor off the Stage, we must bring him to his Exit: Some few days before Christmas he came to one Mr. Cullin's a Baker in the Strand to seek him a Lodging, his Habit but indifferent, and his Stock not above Two Shillings, pretending himself to be a Person of Worth and Honour, viz. Humphrey Wickham of Swakely in the County of Oxon Esq a Person whose Name and Reputation was well known to Mrs. Cullin, being born not far from him, which contributed much to the swallowing of the Imposture. His Pretence for leaving his Family in the Country, and living here Incognito, was occasioned (he said) to avoid the Payment of 500 l. which he stood engaged for, and for which the Principal had left him in the lurch; and which he had made a rash Vow he would not pay.  
Mr. Cullin's Family thus imposed upon, supplied all his Wants, and paid him the due Respects to the Quality he personated, till falling Sick, on the 28th of December he made a Will as follows.  
His WILL.  
IN the Name of God, Amen. I Humphrey Wickham of Swaclift in the County of Oxon, Esq being Sick and weak in Body, but of sound Mind and Memory, do make this my last WILL and TESTAMENT, revoking all Wills by me formerly made: And as touching such Worldly Estate as God hath been pleased to bless me withal, I do hereby give and bequeath the same in manner following.  
Imprimis, I do give, devise, and bequeath, to my Kinsman William Wickham, of Gazington in the County of Oxon, all that my Mansion-House of Swaclift aforesaid; and all the Lands, Tenements, and Hereditaments thereunto belonging, to hold unto him the said William Wickham, and his Heirs for ever.  
Item, I give and bequeath unto John Cullin, Son of Thomas Cullin, of the Parish of St. Clement Danes, in the County of Middlesex, Baker, all that my impropriated Parsonage of Sowgrate in the County of Northampton, with the Rents, Issues, and Profits thereof.  
Item, I give unto Anne Cullin, Sister of the said John Cullin, the Sum of Two hundred and fifty Pounds.  
Item, I give unto Thomas Cullin, Son of the said Thomas Cullin, the Sum of Three hundred Pounds.  
Item, I give unto Dorothy Halford of Halford, in the County of Warwick, the Sum of Two hundred Pounds.  
Item, I give unto Richard Davis, Son of William Davis, of the said Parish of St. Clement Danes, the Sum of Four hundred Pounds.  
Item, I give unto William Davis, Son of the said William Davis, the Sum of Two hundred Pounds.  
Item, I give unto Anne Fowkes, for her Care and Diligence in looking after me in my Sickness, the Sum of One hundred Pounds.  
Item, I give unto Robert Croker, Son of William Croker of Sanford in the said County of Oxon (being my Godson) the Sum of Five hundred Pounds.  
Item, I give unto the said William Croker the Sum of Five hundred Pounds.  
Item, I give unto Robert Penniston, Son of Sir Thomas Penniston, and younger Brother to Sir Farmalis Penniston of Cornhill, in the said County of Oxon, the Sum of Three hundred Pounds.  
Item, I give unto Mrs. Jane Penniston, Sister of the said Mr. Robert Penniston, the Sum of Two hundred Pounds.  
Item, I do hereby give, devise, and bequeath, all my Lands, Tenements, and Hereditaments whatsoever, called by the name of Appletree Ducy, in Cropridee, in the County of Northampton, unto John Brooking of Rashly, in the County of Devon, Esq and the said William Davis Sen. and Thomas Cullin Sen. and the Survivor of them, and their Heirs, and the Survivor of them upon Trust and Confidence. Nevertheless, that they the said John Brooking, William Davis, and Thomas Cullin, shall sell and dispose of the same; and out of the Money thereby raised, pay; or cause to be paid, the respective Legacies herein before bequeathed unto the said Anne Cullin, Thomas Cullin Jun. Dorothy Halford, Richard Davis, William Davis Jun. and Anne Fowkes. And whereas I have herein before bequeathed unto my Kinsman William Wickham, and his Heirs, all my Mansion-house at Swaclift aforesaid, with the Lands, Tenements, and Hereditaments thereunto belonging; my true Will and Meaning is, That the same Devise is upon this special Trust and Confidence, That the said William Wickham shall pay, or cause to be paid, the several Legacies herein before bequeathed unto the said Robert Croker and William Croker, Robert Penniston and Jane Penniston; and also pay and discharge one Bond for the Principal Sum of Five hundred Pounds, with Interest, which I became bound for with Thomas Walker, to one Thomas Irons, any thing herein before contained, to the contrary thereof in any wise notwithstanding; and also that he the said William Wickham, shall out of his Legacy, and Lands, and Premises aforesaid, to him devised, pay, or cause to be paid unto my Executors hereafter named, the Sum of Five hundred Pounds, to be by them bestowed, distributed, or employed for the use and benefit of the Poor of the Parish of Swaclift aforesaid, in such manner as they, or the major part of them, shall think fit and convenient.  
Item, I give and bequeath unto the said John Brooking out of the moneys that shall be raised of the Sale of the Lands and Tenements, called Appletree Ducy aforesaid, the Sum of Five hundred Pounds: And all the rest and residue of the moneys that shall be thereby raised, I do hereby give and bequeath unto the said William Davis Sen. and Thomas Cullin Sen. to be equally divided between them and the Survivor of them.  
Item, I give and bequeath unto Alice Cullin, Wife of the said Thomas Cullin Sen. the Sum of Six hundred Pounds to her own proper Use and Disposal.  
Item, I give and bequeath in like manner the Sum of Six hundred Pounds unto Jane Davis, the Wife of the said William Davis.  
Item, I give unto the said Robert Croker and William Croker, the Sum of Ten Pounds apiece to buy them Mourning; and also to each of them a Ring of Twelve Shillings.  
Item, I give unto Jane Croker and Mary Croker, and also to the said Robert Penniston and Jane Penniston, and all other my Legatees herein before mentioned, and to every of them, the Sum of Ten Pounds apiece to buy them Mourning, and a Ring of Twelve Shillings.  
Item, Whereas I have the Sum of Seven hundred Pounds lying at Interest in the hands of Mr. Ambrose Holbitch, in the name of Oliver Charles my Servant, I do hereby give and bequeath the same to and amongst my Four Servants, Oliver Charles', John Harber, Sarah Winn and Margery Smith, and the Survivor of them, to be equally divided amongst them, share and share alike.  
Item, I give and bequeath my three Geldings, and all my Accoutrements belonging to them, unto the said John Brooking, William Davis Sen. and Thomas Cullin Sen. viz. my Bright Bay Gelding to the said Thomas Cullin, and my Black Gelding to the said William Davis, and my Dapple-grey Gelding to the said John Brooking. All the Arrears of Rent in my Tenants Hands at the time of my Decease, I do hereby freely acquit and discharge. And all the rest and Residue of my Personal Estate, not herein before devised, after my Debts, Legacies and Funeral Expenses, paid and discharged, I do hereby give and bequeath unto my said Kinsman William Wickham.  
And, lastly, I do hereby nominate, constitute and appoint the said William Wickham, John Brooking, William Davis Sen. and Thomas Cullin Sen. Executors of this my Will; hereby revoking and making void all other, and former Will or Wills by me made.  
In Witness whereof I the said Humphrey Wickham have to this my last Will, containing one side of a Sheet of Paper, and almost half the back thereof, set my Hand and Seal this Twentieth day of December, Anno Dom. 1691.  
Humphrey Wickham. Signed, Sealed, Published and Declared in the presence of us, with the words (William Wickham) being first interlined, Rob. Smith, Jo. Chapman, Rich. Chapman, Mart. Pinckard.  
ay, the abovenamed Humphrey Wickham, having omitted out of my Will abovementioned, the Disposition of my Estate in Huntingtonshire, do hereby make this Addition to, and part of my said Will, in manner following: I give and bequeath all my Lands, Tenements and Hereditaments, called Pryor's Farm, and all other my Estate in Holly-well and Needing-worth, unto the abovenamed John Brooking, William Davis Sen. and Thomas Cullin Sen. and the Survivor of them, and their Heirs, and the Heirs of the Survivor of them, under this special Trust and Confidence, that the said John Brooking, William Davis, and Thomas Cullin, shall sell and dispose of the same; and out of the moneys thereby raised, pay, or cause to be paid, the respective Legacies hereafter named, viz. I give and bequeath to Humphrey Longford the Sum of Six hundred Pounds, and to his Sister Mary Longford the like Sum of Six hundred Pounds.  
Item, I give and bequeath unto the said Thomas Cullin Sen. the further Sum of Eight hundred Pounds; and all the Remainder of the moneys thereby raised, I give and bequeath unto the said William Davis Sen. and Jane his Wife, and the Survivor of them.  
Item, Whereas I have by Will abovesaid, given unto John Cullin, Son of the said Thomas Cullin, the impropriated Parsonage of Sowgrave; my true meaning is, That I do give and devise the same to the said John Cullin and his Heirs for ever. In witness whereof, I the said Humphrey Wickham have to this Codicil Addition, or further part of my said Will, set my Hand and Seal, this Twenty eighth day of December, Anno Dom. 1691.  
Humphrey Wickham. Signed, Sealed, Published and Declared in the presence of us, Robert Smith, John Chapman, Richard Chapman, Martin Pinkard. Probatum fuit, etc.  
This stupendious Confidence of a dying Man is very amazing, nay he drove on the Masquerade at that strange rate, that he may be truly said to have ended as he began, having received the Blessed Sacrament, pretended the Settlement of his Conscience, and making Peace with Heaven with that seeming Sincerity, as if he had resolved to prevaricate with God with the same Assurance he had all along done with Mankind. The Credulity of these deluded Persons, his Landlord and the rest, is not much to be wondered at, when the last Gasps of Death could carry so fair an Hypocrisy, and their Transports for his extravagant Legacies bequeathed them, are rather to be pitied than ridiculed. And if they have been faulty in any little Overfondness of their imaginary good Fortune, the Jests and Gibes they have received, have been their sufficient Punishment; besides Mr. Cullin's being run out of above 30 l.  
After his Death care was taken to provide him a Coffin of about 10 l. value, and the Embalmers were paid for some of their Office of preserving him Sweet, till Preparations for a solemn and sumptuous Funeral could be made, suitable to the remains of the honourable Deceased. And this Letter was sent as follows.  
SIR,  
THESE serve to inform you, that Humphrey Wickham Esq of Swaclift in the County of Oxon, died this Morning at my House, where he has been about ten days: He has made his Will, and you are one of his Executors with me and others: A very great share of his Estate is given to you; therefore pray Sir speed to London, that we may take care of his Funeral, and other matters necessary to be done upon this occasion.  
I think it may not be amiss that you keep this private, lest any thing may be Purloined or embezzled by any of the Deceased's Servants, or any else at his Seat at Swaclift, which is all given to you, some Legacies thereout to be paid: I am, Sir, your Servant  
Thomas Cullin. London, January 3. 1691. From my House at the Wheatsheaf near St. Clement 's Church over against Arundel-street, Strand. To Mr. William Wickham of Gazington, inquire at the Blue Boars Head in Oxon.  
These following Lines were enclosed from the aforesaid Executors in the said Letter, being left by the Deceased.  
WHereas, I Humphrey Wickham Esq in Company with my own Man John Harbert, and John Austin Son of Nicholas Austin, did carry a black Hogs-skin Trunk, marked with the Letters H.W. 1688.  
Wherein are the Deeds of my Estate at Sowgrave and Appletree Ducy; these are to desire you to deliver them to the Executors, signed with his own Name thus  
Humphrey Wickham.  
Memorandum, That there are two Mortgages in the hands of Austin, the one for 1400 l. and the other for 400 l. in the name of Oliver Charles, in the hands of Mr. Ambrose Holbech.  
In answer to this Letter came a Gentleman from Oxford to tell Mr. Cullin, that the Christian-name of this Mr. Wickham of Gazington was mistaken, which gave the first Alarm of an Imposture, otherwise Hearse and Mourning had been provided to have carried him down to Swackley for his Interment there.  
Mr. Cullin being not over-apt to believe himself cheated, but more to satisfy the rest of the World, sent down a Messenger to Swackley, with fifteen Shillings in his Pocket, mounted upon a poor Hackney, but ordered to return upon the Bright Bay Gelding bequeathed him in his Will; being not convinced of the Delusion till his Messenger's return, notwithstanding several Persons of Reputation had declared him a Counterfeit; and Major Richardson and Mr. Compton had both inspected the Corpse, and averred him to be the very Man formerly judged for six Wives as before mentioned, and more than once their Prisoner in Newgate.  
The Messenger returning Tuesday the 12th of Jan. 1691. he brought a Compliment to the Executors from Captain Wickham (who had treated the Messenger very civilly) to this effect; That he gave them his hearty Thanks for their intended Kindness to him; and if they would please to come to Swackley for a Month or more, they should be very welcome, and have the use of all the Geldings, viz. the Black, the Bright-Bay, the Dapple-Gray, though he could not well part with them for good and all.  
Upon this full Satisfaction received, about three the next Morning, with no more than a Watchman and a Lantern, in a Coffin of four Shillings price, he was laid in the Earth in a Nook of St. Clement's Churchyard.  
The Nurse and Assistants that attended him in his Sickness now call to mind, that they once or twice observed him to laugh to himself very pleasantly, which they suppose proceeded from the pleasure he took in cheating the World he was then just upon leaving.  
To conclude with his Frauds and Impostures, (besides the grandest and boldest of them all that he left the World in) he was charged with one Cheat after his very Death. Amongst the numerous Visitants that came to see him that Week that he lay above Ground, it happened that a Man and his Wife, living at White-Chappel, pressing in amongst the Crowd of Gazers, immediately remembered his Face; and seeing the Clothes there which he wore before he died, he presently owned himself the Tailor that made them; and that they were not only unpaid for still, but likewise he was cozened out of them by one of the lewdest sham's that ever was put upon Man. Upon which he repeated the whole Story at length, viz. That about Bartholomew-tide before, the now Deceased came over Night, and took a pretty handsome Lodging at White-Chappel, pretending himself newly come up by the Stage-Coach out of the Country, his Name Bowyer; and desiring his Landlord to help him to a Tailor, 'twas his ill Luck to be the Man that was sent for. When he came to him, he found him in a threadbare black Coat, and very much in want of Repair. He had not talked with him long, before he was desired to take measure of him; and whilst that was doing, up came a Footman in a gentile Livery, and paying him much Respect and Reverence, told him, That Sir John, his Master, desired his Company at Dinner. At Dinner! (answers our threadbare Spark) No, I'faith; he must excuse me: I am not in a pickle (Pox of my Dog-Rogue) to stir out of doors. No, Sirrah; these Rags upon my Arse are no Dress for Dining at Whitehall. And so, pray, go tell your Master, that I am forced to keep my Chamber at present, for I have been robbed since I saw him last Night. The Footboy presently asked him, By whom? By a young Son of a Whore, a Footman of mine, the Devil go with him. And so desiring the Boy to carry the whole Relation to his Master, he tells him very formally. That sending his Boy last Night to the Carrier's for his Trunk, in which were two Suits of Clothes, all his Linen and Point, and fifty Pieces of Gold, the Rogue was run away with it: And though this old Suit upon his Back served him well enough to come to Town in, Sir John must pardon him if he durst not stir out till he was a little better rigged. The Footman making a long Scrape, and departing with his Message, our Country-Squire gave a hundred hard Names to this Runaway Man of his, threatening a great deal of Vengeance if ever he caught him; for Hanging was too good for him. Whilst this Alarm held, there came another Visitant to our Esquire, and told him, He hoped he had drawn it up to his Liking: So the Man producing a Paper, the Esquire took it and read it; which was a long Advertisement to be put into the Gazette, describing the Marks of his Man, and five pounds' Reward to him that should apprehend him. So having read it out, and approved of the wording of it, he put his Hand in his Pocket, and gave the Fellow ten Shillings to pay for entering of it, giving him a strict Charge to be sure of getting it into the next Gazette. After this, he began to treat about his Clothes, which he desired might be neither Rich nor Gaudy, for he was past those Vanities. The Tailor accordingly, by next day at Noon, brings him his Clothes, his Bill between five and six Pounds, which truly he must be forced to stay for till next Week; for the Villain and Thief his Man had put him out of Money; but he had sent down last night by the Post for new Supplies, and by the middle of next Week should be furnished, and pay him very thankfully. The poor Tailor, not in the least doubting his Money, was very well satisfied for he was sufficiently convinced that he was a Gentleman of Fashion, and hoped to find a good Customer of him. But no sooner were the Accoutrements upon his Back, and he had now liberty (no disgrace to his Gentility) to walk by Daylight; his first Progress is down to Sir John's at Whitehall, who was belike so fond of his Company, that he would never let him find the way home again; for from that Hour, neither his White-chappel Landlord, nor Tailor, could ever set Eye of him.  
But to give him a little farther Visit at the Bakers (the Hospitable Roof under which he finished his last Masterpiece) and lend the Reader some few farther Observations upon what passed there, more and above his own Personal Performance in that grand Masquerade of the pretended Captain Wickham, several Accidents both before and after his Death contributed much to corroborate and support the Impostor. To instance one remarkable one; his kind Landlord sending for the worthy Dr. F— to take care of him in his Sickness, he asked the Doctor if he did not know him, or had never seen him before; which the Doctor (as with good reason) not well recollecting, our Patient was pleased to remember him, that he had the Honour to Dine with him such a Day, in such a Year, when the Doctor was Mayor of Gloucester. Now it happening that that very day the true Captain Wickham had really Dined with him at Gloucester: The Doctor who was not much acquainted with the true Captain, and thereby not ready to distinguish Faces, yet very well remembering such a worthy Gentleman one of his Honourable Guests that day in his Majoralty, was very ready (upon so convincing a Circumstance) to swallow the Juggle, and to acknowledge him the Person he presented, which very much influenced the Credulity of the Family.  
The Monday, the next day after his death, a Noble Peer, attended by several Persons of Honour, came to see the Body, and was so satisfied in his being his Country Neighbour, the true Captain Wickham, that he questioned the Family why the Coroner did not sit upon him; upon which being answered, that such a Physician took care of him, and that besides, the Honesty of the House in which he died, gave no occasion for any such reflecting enquiry into his Death: His Lordship was pleased to reply, That if he was not Murdered, he must certainly die Mad, it being impossible that in his right Senses he should give such extravagant Legacies to mere Strangers: Nor would his Lordship be satisfied, till he consulted both his Bodily and Ghostly Physician, his Minister and the Doctor, about his outward and inward Man, etc.  
Another very confirming Credential happened, viz. A grave Citizen of London, a near Neighbour to our Capital Cathedral, who likewise inspected the Corpse, was pleased to say, he had fifty Guinea's in his Fob, and would make them an Hundred with any Man, that it was Captain Wickham. Nay, Mr. T— the Proctor was so confident of his Integrity, that he deposited five Guinea's with the Baker's Wife, to a Wager of five more, to buy him a Pair of Gold Fringe Gloves, that he was the true Captain Wickham; and not only so, but made two Wagers more with her, of two Guinea's each, upon the same Fund. Which Wagers she was so unwilling to lay with him, as being herself so confident of his Truth, that she gave them for lost; nor had been drawn into them, but by this Argument of the Nurses, who told her, That if he was the true Wickham, nine Guinea's Loss would be nothing out of their great Legacies; and if he was otherwise, the winning of so many Guinea's would make some Help towards the Charges they had been out upon him.  
Besides all this, a great many Oxfordshire Gentlemen, that frequented Kn—t's Coffee-house in Essex-Buildings, were so concerned at his Executor's Happiness, that rather than the Baker should run away with so much of his Estate, declared they were resolved to make a Parliament Business of it. So many Affirmatives so strengthened the believing Baker, that he offered to give his Maid fifty Pounds for her Hundred: To which she pertly answered, No, she was not in so much haste to Compound at that Rate, she was as well able to tarry for her Money, as he was for his. And talking of the poor Maid, one thing must not be forgotten; the day before he died, he told her he had left her a hundred Pounds to buy her a Husband, but have a care she did not Marry a Rogue that should beat her, for if she did, he had that kindness for her, he was sure it would disturb him in his Grave, and make him Walk when he was Dead.  
But to return to his Death: When the Searchers came to do their necessary Office, upon Inspection, they found some little extraordinary Mortification upon some nameless Part about him, that put them upon the Smile. Their Respect to the Worshipful Deceased, made them somewhat Modest in the Discovery; which occasioned the Nurse to inquire into the cause of their Fleering, and asked them plainly, If the Captain were under the Covenant of Circumcision? Yes truly, they replied, some such kind of Corporal Defect they had found about him. This put the Churchwarden into some Surprise, who, inclinable to fancy better things of this Pious Benefactor defunct, would by no means believe either Searchers or Nurse, till he played the Searcher too, and made a Peep for his satisfaction. But, alas, he no sooner cast his Eye that way, but he found our Bachelor Captain was in no danger of leading Apes: He discovered him an old Soldier under Cupid's Banner; for by a sad Token he had been a loser in the Wars: But Eighteen Wives might do much, and so the Wonder is not so extraordinary.  
By a Letter dated January the 21st 1691. from a credible Hand, we received a short Relation of the Man Tom, the Famous Sancho Pancho to our deceased Don Quixot, so often mentioned, and formerly so great a Sharer in his Master's Adventures.  
This Squire to our late Knight-Errant, through his long Service now grown Master of his Art, and consequently Setting up for himself, was then taken at Putnam, near Godalming in Surrey, for running away with an Heiress of 150 l. per annum. This wealthy Heiress he had married in very good Season, our Bridegroom truly being not over-rich, (the common Fate of great Wits) for he had hardly Money enough to pay for his Marriage. However, accepted for Richer, or Poorer, he had Bedded her seven or eight Nights, and was so long pursued and hunted from place to place, before her Relations could catch him, being taken at last in Bed with her. The farther Particulars we are not yet informed.  

Since the first Publication of our foregoing History of our Grand Guzman, we have received some Comical Adventures, worth inserting in his Memoirs, which though they now bring up the Rear of his Chronicle, however they were the very first of all his Wedlock Feats, and which take as follows.  
AS our Young Matchiavil was bred up a Brother of the Crispin-Fraternity, in which he lived some Years a Journeyman to a Cord-wainer at Worcester, some little Worldly Calamities, chiefly the Product of a natural Laziness, unfortunately run him into Worcester-Goal, where he lay some Months, till partly by Charity, and partly by the Mercy of his Creditors, who were softened into a Composition of his Debts, at length he shook off his Stone-doublet. From hence, his Reputation being a little sunk in that part of the World, he made shift to pick up a small Load of St. Hugh's Bones, and so stroled down the Severn to Bristol; and after he had tired out his new Acquaintance there, and made that Town too almost a little too Warm for him, he packed up his Awls, and moved farther abroad. Our wand'ring Itinerant, not to mention his more inconsiderable Rambles, comes at last to the Town of Petersfield within 17 Miles of Portsmouth; here (as in all places) being a Boon Pot-Companion, he fell in at All-Fours with a Surgeon's Apprentice, who on his Master's Account had some Business in that part of the Country; and with the good Fortune of a lucky Hand, and some little help of a dextrous Cutt and Shuffle, the kind Devils-Books were so favourable to him, that our young Bonesetter lost all his Money to him to the doleful tune of upwards of three Pounds: Nay, when his losing Hand was in, his Plaister-box and Salvatory, pretty well furnished with all Silver-tiped Instruments, were staked and lost too. The poor young Fellow was not a little mortified at this loss, but being a Man of some little Fashion, he knew himself able, when he sent home, not above a dozen Miles off, to his Friends, to have Money enough returned him to redeem his Implements, and supply the Cash of his Masters he had thus unfortunately imbezel'd: Accordingly he desires the Favour of Silence, and that he would let him have the kind Equity of Redemption for his Plaister-box, upon honest Repayment of the Money lost upon it. All this was readily agreed to, and a good hearty Oath, by way of honourable Engagement, was thrown into the Bargain, that his Instruments should be forthcoming upon the reasonable Terms aforesaid, and that he might hear of him at Goodman such a one's, a Shoemaker in the Town, where he worked Journeywork.  
No sooner came our Fortunate Gamester home, but he surveyed his Prize, and found it, as he thought, worth twice the Sum lost upon it; and therefore having a long time been weary of his own Mechanic Occupation, a Mercurial Thought comes into his Head of roving to Sea. Accordingly early the next Morning, he sells his Hugh's Bones for a small matter of Silver to a Brother Crispiano, and pretending to soot it up to London, he wheels round the Town, and marches directly the clean contrary way, viz. to Portsmouth, resolving to prevent all manner of Hunt after him from the young Esculapius for his Plaister-box in Tribulation.  
Here he lights into a Publick-house that generally entertained Seamen, the Mistress of which was a Young Buxom Dame, not long, or rather too long, a Widow: Here he soon found himself a Tar-mate that he made his Bed-fellow, with whom he quickly contracted a great Intimacy, and also gained some considerable Light into Sea-Affairs. His Landlady, to give her her due, was a Pretty Handsome Little Tied Woman; but what was her yet greater Charm, she was worth above a hundred good Pounds. Here our Traveller, upon the Authority of the fair Credentials in his Pocket, pretends himself a Surgeon to such a Ship that lay out at Sea, and that his Chest of Medicines were coming down from London in order to his straits Voyage: Though the Instruments in the Pocket seemed some small Testimonial of his Doctorships Capacity, yet the Breeches that held them, and the rest of his outward Furniture (being indeed something Shabby and Threadbare) did not altogether look like the Habilements of a Graduate Medicinal Professor. And truly his good Hostess, from that slender outward Appearance, was not apt to have overmuch Faith in the case. Besides he had that cloudy Hand for a Learned Manual Operator, that she would sometimes merrily Joak upon his not over-neat Palm for a Chirurgeon. But that Objection was soon answered, and she was readily given to understand, that he professed Chemistry as well as Surgery, and the making up of his own Medicines had a little tinctured his Hands; and so the remains of the Cobler's-Wax were slured off under a more honourable Pretention.  
Our Brisk Youth now makes bold Suit to his Landlady, in no less Capacity than an humble Servant of hers. The cunning Gipsy, not easily overreached, and besides not much taken with his Person, gave him but slender Reception: 'Tis true he spent his Money briskly, and so far she could hear of that Ear, but was somewhat Deaf on the other; for truly, as I said before, she wanted Faith. However her Passionate Admirer was not wanting, not only in pushing on heartily, but likewise in great Rodomontades of an Estate he had at Worcester of 30 l. per annum Free-land, with twenty other high Romances. But all this wrought but little upon his too Cold and too Coy Mistress; till at last by the help of his Tarpawling Chambermate, whom he had made of his Party, a very Comical Project was form, to try what Titillation could best work upon her.  
Our Sea-Friend therefore, an old Weatherbeaten Tar, who had several times lodged at this House, and by that means was very Intimate with the good Dame, takes an occasion one Evening to drink a Pot and a Quartern with her privately, to tell her something that very nearly concerned her. This private Interview was no sooner obtained, but our Tar, with a very serious Face, began by the way of a Counsellor and Friend, to bid her have a care of his Bed-fellow; not but he loved him well enough as a Chamber-fellow, but not half so well as he loved his good Landlady, whom he had known so many Years together, and received so many Civilities from. In short, he had discovered that this Doctor made Love to her, and he supposed to Marry her: But take heed what she does, for to his certain knowledge, instead of a Man, he was rather a Monster. A Monster, replied the Hostess somewhat amazed. Ay a Monster, for he was his Bed-fellow, and he could Swear what he had seen and known. Truly under the Rose, he was such a Devil of a Fellow, that he was more a Horse than a Man: Nay, she might do what she pleased; yet he was sure, that if he once came to lay her a-board, a poor little Creature as she was, he would certainly tear her to pieces from the very Stern to the Poop: For as he said before, Never was such a Monster of a Man. The Good Dame mighty kindly thanked him for his Friendly Advice, and she should take her Measures accordingly. In fine, a great deal of kind Caution he gave her, and came so far to particulars, as almost to tell her the very Dimensions, how many Half-crowns he could sweep off, etc.  
The next Morning our young Doctor desired the Favour of a Mornings-Draught with his Fair Landlady, which was readily granted; and when he came to drink to her, he found the Bowl so extraordinary Spiced and sugared, so much Sweeter than usual, that he could not but make her a kind Salute.  
In fine, both the Bowl and the fair Ganymede, the Hospitality and the Hostess, all sweetened at a strange Rate; and our happy Inamorato had that Access to her soft warm Lips, that he never billed half so close before. This kind Morning's Entertainment was not concluded, till the Generous Widow proposes a Frolic tomorrow Morning to Chichester, to visit some Relations there, in which she desires the Honour of the Doctor's good Company. Our Spark received the Invitation very thankfully, only he must deny himself that Happiness, by reason he was at present (his Wardrobe being not yet arrived from London) in that Dishabile●, that he should disgrace both her and her Friends by his too poor outward Appearance. The Widow immediately excused that Want, by telling him that Fault should be mended, the Town of Portsmouth should furnish him, etc. The Spark replied very frankly, That truly till his Return from London, he was not at present strong enough in Pocket for such a Purchase: The Generous Widow bid him not trouble himself in that Point, for she would accommodate him, and wait his time for his Repayment. And accordingly, that very Afternoon he was, at the kind Widows own proper Charge, equipped Cap-a-pee with a new Suit, Hat, and all other Accoutrements, to the Tune of upwards of 7 l. besides some very fine Linen, Relics of her old Husbands: And the next Morning a Brace of very fine Gallopers were provided, and our mounted Doctor, A-la-mode de Cavalier, pranced with the gay Widow to Chichester.  
When he came thither he was very courteously received by the Widow's Relations, being People of pretty good Fashion; where the Widow, a little profuse in her new Gallant's Commendations, gave an extraordinary Character both of his Quality, his Parts, his Profession, and what not. What a fair Estate he had at Worcester, and what a fairer Name he had amongst the College of Physicians, and the whole World that knew his Merit; which in respect to their Relation, much heightened the Reception he found amongst them.  
Matters going on thus swimmingly, and a great deal of Mirth passing of all hands, the Doctor publicly avowed his Pretensions to the Widow, and the Widow as frankly acknowledged the Honour he did her in his favourable Thoughts towards her. To conclude, the Affair went on so briskly, that the Match, before the whole Kindred, was struck up that very Night, and Execution resolved the very next Morning, which was accordingly performed. But now by the buy, the Reader is to consider how her Tarpawling's Advice had warned her of the Dangers of Marrying this Monster of a Man, and that the least she must expect was to be downright killed; nevertheless by a certain kind of Courage, natural to the whole Sex, of running the Risk of that sweet sort of Martyrdom, she resolves to venture her whole Mortality, and, in spite of Predictions, marry this formidable Desperado.  
Here let us slip over the Nuptial Ceremony, and bring her to the Grand Work Consummation. When the brisk Bridegroom came to attack the Fort, and enter the Breach of Love, the fair Bride, who had conceived most prodigious Imaginations of the Assault, had her Expectations so far defeated, that instead of the Monster, the Hercules, the Gigant, etc. she sound him but a mere Man: Nay, as the malicious Devil of Love would have it, the Dimensions of her Felicity was so far short, that what with Remembrance and Comparison, those unlucky Critics, she found the Furniture of the whole new Magazine, not answerable even to the poor Defunct in the Grave; the very Worms were now Feasting of that more Substantial Quondam Dish, that 'tis not a small untowardly Reflection upon her present slenderer Bill of Fare.  
Not but to do our Bridegroom all Right and Justice, he behaved himself in all Points as briskly as Manhood of between a Score and a half could perform; and really there was no reasonable Objection to be made against him. However Expectation had raped her into those Extravagant Notions and Phoenomena's, that 'tis no little damp to her high Flights to be so frustrated and disappointed.  
Our young Couple had not slept the first whole Night together, I mean as much as a first Nights Sleep generally is, but the Bride before Morning was heard to Sigh very often, which much surprised the Bridegroom, and made him a little Inquisitive into the Occasion of so untuneable a Music for a Wedding-Night. To which she made answer, She much feared that she should be a very Miserable Woman, for truly she had made a Vow to her old Husband upon his Deathbed, to Mourn a double Widowhood for him; and now so notoriously contrary to her Promise, and all the Decensies of her Sex, to Marry in less than half a Year after his Death, not one quarter of the Time engaged, was both that Shame and Trouble to her, that she had just reason to dread some exemplary Vengeance from Heaven; at least to be haunted by his Ghost, a due Punishment for so wicked a Perjury. The Bridegroom gave her a great many mollifying Arguments in answer to so ridiculous a Scruple of Conscience, but God-wot to little purpose, all her Quondam Sweetness was perfectly soured to all Intents and Purposes. The Goodman, the new Spouse, found her still more and more in her Melancholy Dumps, especially after her return to Portsmouth, for to tell Truth 'twas one of the shortest Hony-moons of Love that ever New-wedded Couple had. Amongst her daily Invectives against her unhappy Marriage, the old Lodger the Tarpawling took occasion to remind her of the fair Warning he had given her against Marrying this Man. Ay, replied the Dame, you did advise me in the Devil's name, a Pox of such Plaguy Counsellors. For his part, like a Lying, Cozening, Cheating Loon as he was, she turned him out of her Doors, and would suffer him to lie no longer in her House.  
The Husband, who▪ upon conferring Notes with his Tar-friend, and other Remarks, guessed where the Shoe pinched, began to think upon raising a little of the Rhino out of her, and therefore before he had been a Week married, a Letter comes down from London to tell him, his Lodging in Town, by an Accidental Fire, was burnt down, in which his Trunk, clothes, Sea-Chest, and every thing he had there were unhappily lost in the Flames. Upon this he made strange Moan for Ten Pounds to recruit his Chest, otherwise his Voyage would be lost, and to send home to Worcester for Money of his own, would be longer work than the time he had on Shore would grant him. For which cause he must request his Dear Wife to do that great Favour for him. She raise Ten Pound! God knows where should she have it, she Swears 'tis twice as much as she is worth in the whole World. Nay then, replied our young Doctor, 'tis but losing his Voyage, and giving over all Sea-Affairs, he'll even set up a Doctor in Portsmouth, his Ability will find him Practise enough to live like a Gentleman, and so Live and Dye in the Arms of his Dear Sweet Betty: And therefore he would immediately write to his Friends at Worcester, that his Tenant might know his Resolution.  
This last Proposal was worse than the Ten Pound Demand; for to live all days of his Life with her, was so Mortal an Apprehension to her, that she had rather pay twice that Sum to be rid of him; to Sea, to the Devil, any whither, so she can but see his Backside, and Ten Pound well laid out. And accordingly, upon second Thoughts, she told him, That truly that Town was over-stock'd with his Profession already, and therefore rather than lose him his Employ, she would try all her Friends to raise it; which was done the next day after: Whilst our Operator, under Pretence of a Journey to London to new furnish his Labaratory, lays in a Stock of Brandy, and other comfortable Importance, into a Merchant's Ship; and in no higher a Post than before the Mast, sets out a Voyage for Venice.  
Our young Traveller being thus set out with a fair Gale, and his Dear Turtle, his Fair Spouses best Wishes, by the way of a Witches Prayer for his Good Voyage and Safe Return: We have little of Moment through his Voyage, only that he was very Bounteous to the Seamen, and doled his Brandy, and the rest of his good Stowage amongst them, which excused him from the greatest part of his Duty, they being all ready to serve him. More particularly he ingratiated with the Surgeon of the Vessel, and gained some small Experience in Chirurgery, and some little Insight into Physic. At his Arrival at Venice, by virtue of his pretty decent Appearance in Habit, and some little matter of Money in his Pocket, but chiefly by his natural Talon of Confidence, he set up for a Spark, and gained an intimate Acquaintance with a young Venetian Merchant, who traded with the English, and had a little smattering in the Tongue, enough to be understood: With this young Merchant he went now and then to a Bona Roba, some of the Fair Wantoness of Venice. During which extraordinary Familiarity between them, the Merchant was so Frank, as to unbosom some few of his Secrets to him; one above the rest, That he had Debauched a young Girl of some considerable Quality there, which had run away from her Relations: That 'tis true, her Friends knew not who 'twas had Dishonoured their Family: And that if by any Accident it should be discovered, the least he must expect was to have his Throat Cut, as the common Revenge of that Nation upon much lesser Injuries. Our young Doctor seeming very much concerned for his Friend's Danger, offered his Service of a Projection that should make all Safe and Happy, which was, If he thought fit, by a Plot that he would lay, to Marry this Unhappy Damsel to a very Rich Venetian of his Acquaintance. The Merchant was highly pleased at such a Proposal, if feasable, an Honourable Marriage being the only thing that would salve and reconcile all. Accordingly upon a close Cabal between them, this following Intrigue was managed, to our Young Doctor's Immortal Reputation in Politics.  
He was mighty well acquainted with a Public Notary in Venice, a very Rich Man, to whom he had often boasted of his great Medicinal Learning; and one day he took an occasion to tell him, That he had the Honour to take care of a young Merchant's Widow, at present desperately ill, who had thought sit to select him for her Physician, before all the Best and Ablest of her own Country Doctors, who had experienced all their best Skill in vain, and had given her over for Lost. That notwithstanding this universal Despair of her Recovery, he had some more than ordinary Hopes of performing Wonders that should Amaze the World. Not but her Life was in the Hand of Heaven, and he durst absolutely warrant nothing that was Mortal. Amongst the loud Encomiums of his own Skill, he sprinkled some tender Expressions of Pity towards the Poor Young Lady, whose extraordinary Beauty, as much as Sickness had defaced it, was no little Object of Admiration. In two or three days after, this Young Lady takes occasion to make her Will, and who should be sent for to do that Office but this Notary, as being partly recommended to her by her Doctor. Our Man of Law, who from the Descriptions of this Languishing Lady, had received a strange Impression of her extraordinary, though yet unseen, Charms, was mightily pleased that this Opportunity should give him a sight of that Prodigy of Beauty his Esculapian Friend had described. Accordingly being conducted to a most magnificent stately House, he was ushered through several most sumptuous Apartments to the Bedchamber of the Sick Lady, so prodigiously richly furnished, as had almost amazed him, had not the fairer Object before him, by a much greater Surprise, diverted that Poorer Thought, and fixed his Wonder upon a nobler Contemplation.  
But to bring him to do his Office, viz. Drawing up her Last Will and Testament: After she had bequeathed her Soul to him that gave it, and her Body to the Earth, from whence it came, a too Rich Legacy, God knows, for poor Worms; for indeed what with her own Natural Sweetness, the Dress and Light she appeared in, and withal the Prepossession of the Notary, that much heightened her Charms, she seemed no little Miracle. But as I was saying, to come to her Worldly Capacities, she bequeathed very large Sums of Wealth to several Relations, insomuch that the Astonished Notary, now her absolute Captive, could not but think that Heaven had done the highest Justice to so delicate a piece of its own fairest Handiwork, in matching the Blessings of so many Charms, with an equal Addition of Fortune: And that there wanted nothing from her kind Stars, but the Restoration of her Sweet Health to complete the Smiles of Providence; all but too justly due to so lovely a Sweetness, that so highly deserved even the extraordinary Care of Heaven.  
The transported young Scribe was extremely raped with the Wonders he had seen in this bewitching Face; and truly by the Favour of his good Friend, our kind Mr. Doctor, had the Happiness several times after to accompany him thither, when called to visit his fair Patient, who in some little time after began to be in a fair way of Recovery.  
Our long-robed Inamorato, thus happily introduced, is not wanting to improve so favourable an Opportunity, and continues his daily Visits to the fair Widow still after her perfect Recovery, (for our Famous Operator has set her upon her Legs again.) And though Accesses to the soft Sex in that Country are generally not so easy as in our English Clime; Treaties of Love being there carried on like Love itself, a little Blindfold; yet under the Notion of a Widow those Concessions were granted, which from a Maiden Mistress, through strictness of Custom, might have been denied him.  
Our Law-Courtier (to bless his kind Stars) gains ground, makes a formidable Attack, and is not very vigorously repulsed: For though there is no Virgin-wax in the case, here's something as soft, and the Impression not over-difficult. The fair adored makes him all the suitable Advances fit for a Woman of her Quality and Figure: And her humble Servant, though perhaps as Zealous an Idolater of a fair Portion, as of a fair Face; nevertheless makes no further Inquiry into that Particular, but takes her Fortunes upon Trust, being as amply satisfied of her Capacity that way, by virtue of the late large Will he had made her, as his own Eyes had made him of her other more visible Accomplishments.  
Matters, in fine, are so handled, and the Siege so pushed on, that at last the White Flag is hung out, and the Fort upon Articles of Discretion comes to surrender; for truly the Widow not to be behind in Generosity, makes as little Scrutiny into his Worldly Effects as he had done into hers; and consequently without any Interrogatories upon that Subject, gives up the Cause; and accordingly Hymen is celebrated between them, the transported Bridegroom not a little charmed with his fair Prize.  
It is not worth while to prosecute this part of our History any further, only we must tell the Reader, that whatever lumping Prize the Bridegroom found, his Anglican Doctorship, the kind Mediator made a good Bargain of it. For the Generous Merchant, for his assistant part in putting off the abovenamed Fair, but somewhat damaged Commodity, generously presented him with 200 Crowns, besides a Cask of Rich Wine to cheer his Voyage for England.  
Our Spark, thus nobly equipped, returned homewards, now no longer in the Capacity of a private Seaman, but in a manner a Mate to the Master of the Vessel; but especially with his Old Friend the Doctor of the Ship, for now Medicine is his professed Study.  
At his Arrival at England (though the Vessel was bound for London) it happened they touched in their way at Portsmouth, till a fair Wind offered for the Thames mouth. Here our flourishing Traveller resolves to make a Visit on shore to his good Portsmouth Dame, poor Betty, he left behind him. But when she came to set Eye upon his lovely Phiz, never was such a roaring Welcome made. The not overfond Spouse, during his more than six months' Absence, had unluckily enquired news of him about Worcester, where she had discovered he had no more of an Estate than he had in Transilvania; and was no more a Doctor than he was a Major-General. In short, his whole Pedigree, Extract and Occupation, were fully discovered; and consequently not a few Civil Compliments of Rogue, Cheat, Sergeant and Impostor, were very heartily bestowed upon him: Nay, she could hardly forbear telling him, that his pretended Estate was as wholly Imaginary, as the Boasted Dimensions of his Manhood: He was all Forgery and Lies inside and outside.  
Our young Doctor, who expected no less than all this Fury, was beforehand prepared for it, and received her with a Scorn as great on his side, as the Rage was on hers; pulled out whole handfuls of Gold, to show her, that though his Birth, 'tis true, had bestowed no Patrimonies upon him, his Wit and Sense could make his own Fortune; and accordingly valued not that inconsiderable want of Birthright. But to Sum up the whole Conference between them: The Dame was for never seeing his Face more, and no Love lost on his side, he was as ready to make a drawn Battle of it himself: However, if she would purchase a General Release from all Pretensions to him, he demanded an Acknowledgement of Ten Guinea's for the Signing and Sealing such a full Discharge: Which though 'twas a little hard, she consented to pay down the Sum; and our young Doctor drew up a Paper under the Penalty of a Thousand Pound, never to claim her as a Wife, or give her any Trouble whatever; but to allow her free Liberty to dispose of herself to any Man she should like better. No sooner was this formal Divorce signed and sealed, and the Ten Guinea's paid upon the aforesaid Agreement, but they fairly bid each other an eternal Adieu; the young Dame being so very Frank with him, as to tell him, she had already had a better Man in her Tables since he went away; and had some very fair Effects of it, being four Months gone with Child by him, that being a particular piece of Justice she owed him before, for the Impudent Cheat he had put upon her: So that a good Riddance on both sides. Our Doctor returned for London, with his Pockets well lined, sets up for a Town-Spark, and lets his Gold fly: Till at last, the Mine pretty well sunk, he sets his Brains at work for a Recruit; and here he got Acquaintance with an Innkeeper of Kingston upon Thames, a Person principled for his Purpose; and to him he communicated a Design to get Money, which he readily embraced. The Innkeeper, upon pretended Business, gets well mounted with a Hundred and fifty Pounds in Money, and a Watch, Rings, and other Rich Movables worth 50 l. more; and accordingly his Road lying upon Clapham-Common, he is there accosted in a very Hostile manner, though by a not over-formidable Enemy, being our young Doctor transformed to a Cavalier, who with the rough Compliment of Stand and Deliver, disburdened him of his brace of Hundreds; for which a loud Hue and Cry is immediately made, though with no great Design of taking the Thief. This Project succeeded so well, that with a hardy Front, and a little natural Assurance, our Innkeeper makes so bold with the Evangelists, as to Swear heartily to the Robbery, and accordingly Sues the County, and recovers the Money, which was very fairly and honestly Snacked between them. With this last Prize he thinks it high time to fly no longer at Rovers, but to take up and settle: And accordingly carries himself, his Impudence, and Plaister-box, to Banbury, and there sets up a Professed Chirurgeon, as the beginning of our History has already set forth.   
FINIS.