The Honour of MERCHANT-TAYLORS', Wherein is set forth The Noble Acts, valiant Deeds, and Heroic performances of MERCHANT-TAYLORS' in former Ages.  
Their Honourable Loves, and Knightly Adventures, their Combating with Foreign Enemies, And glorious successes in honour of the English Nation, Together with their Pious Acts and large Benevolences, their building of public Structures, especially that of BLACKWELL-HALL, to be a Market place for the selling of Woollen clothes.  
For bounty, valour, and for buildings fair,  
What Trade with Merchant-Taylors may comp●●e.  
Of this Famous Company have been free 7 Kings of England, besides Princes; Dukes, Earls and Lords a great number.  
Written by William Winstanley,  
LONDON, Printed by P. L. for William Whitwood at the Sign of the Golden-Lyon in Duck-lane, 1668.   


The true Effigies of that Valiant Kt. and March- ●●ant Taylor Sir RALPH BLACKWELL    

TO The worthy Society of the Worshipful Company of MERCHANT-TAYLORS'.  
Gentlemen,  
THe famous Acts of your noble Progenitors hath awakened my Pen to set them forth, though not in so full manner as they do deserve: What person skilled in History that can be ignorant of the Worthy exploits of Sir John Hawkwood, whose honoured praise sounds thorough the Territories of all Christendom, and whose heroic acts hath by Fame's Trumpet been sounded forth to the utmost parts of the earth. This Honoured person with several other magnanimous Hero's being of the Worthy Merchant-Taylors Trade, I thought a History of them would not be unwelcome to you, considering things of this Nature have been well entertained by those of other Trades inferior to you. The Book of the Gentle Craft hath had a general acceptance of the Cordwainers, and the History of the Six Worthy Yeomen of the West, and Jack of Newle●y the like from the Weavers. Deign therefore to accept of this, and the good will of him that wrote it, who is a Lover of your Society, ambitious of the increase of your honour, and one that subscribes himself  
Yours to serve you William Winstandly.   

To the Courteous Readers.  
I Suppose that there is not any one who is skilful in History that can be ignorant of the Honourable Achievements of Merchant-Taylors; a Chronicle may as well be found without words, as without matter wherein in all Ages they have performed such Acts as have eternised their names in Fame's Bead-roll, whether by Martial Discipline, bountiful liberality, sumptuous structures, or Honourable Love, still we find this noble Company of Heroic spirits to equal (if not exceed) any of those Trades who claim the priority of chief; and may in words boast much, but must in deeds come far behind them. Now there is nothing encourages young men, so much to virtuous resolutions as by reading the Noble Acts of their famous predecessors which stirs in them an emulation of the like performances, as we read of Themistocles that the triumph of Miltiades would not let him sleep, and the Hovour of our Nation gallant Sir Philip Sidney reports of himself that the only hearing of that old song of Piercy and Dowglas, though sung no better than by an ordinary Chanter, but it stirred up his valour more than the sound of the Trumpet or beat of the Drum, such is the powerful force of History that it infuses valour above all other means whatsoever; nor hath it less effect in inciting persons to the building of famous structures for the beautifying of Cities, or relief of decayed persons, wherein none have been more eminent than this Noble Company of Merchant-Taylors, as you may in part read at the latter end of this book, and might be instanced in many more particulars, such worthy Acts being recorded to posterity that others by reading what they have done might be incited to imitate their worthy examples, and such is (or should be) the chief end of writing Books, and was the main end intended in this; the basis or foundation whereof thou wilt find (courteous Reader) to be a real truth, though imbelished with such flowers of Poesy as I could gather out of Apollo's Garden, that thou mightest be won with delight in the reading thereof, But I shall not enlarge myself anyfurther, nor detain thee any longer at the Porch of the History, be pleased to enter in and view the rarities where with it is stored; I question not but thou wilt find something therein which will give thee content, which being obtained I have my wish.  
W. W.   

Licenced  
May 18. 1668. Roger L'Estrange.   

THE HONOUR OF Merchant Tailors.  

CHAP. I.  
The birth of Sir John Hawkwood, how he was bound Apprentice at London to a Merchant Taylor, how he fell in Love with his Master's daughter, with other things that ensued thereon.  
IN the days of that Famous and magnanimous Prince King Edward the Third, there was born at Sible Henningham in the County of Essex, a Right worthy Knight, known afterwards to the world by the Name of Sir John Hawkwood, who though born of mean and despicable Parents, yet by his skill in Arms and fortunate success attained to such high Renown and Dignity, that his name became most eminently famous throughout the compass of the whole world.  
In his very infancy he was of a quick and pregnant capacity, and showed many signs of a magnanimous inclination, so that this early▪ spring of gassant resolutions promised a golden Harvest of heroic performances, and that in time he should become the admired Champion of his age.  
Having attained to some perfaction of years, he was bound Apprentice at London to one of the worthy So●lety of M●rchant Tailors: wher● though be endured a hard Prentice-ship, yet pains in youth ●nured him to undergo hard-ship afterwards, when being a Soldier he was forced to extremities, whereas those that never felt the miseries of want, being brought into necessity, wanted no kind of misery as being not enured to suffer Calamity: whilst he who had been habituated to hardship under went all within invincible and ●illing patience. So that ●●inual 〈◊〉, in time ●id make his labour's ease, and pains pleasure. Thus did his Apprentice-ship glide away undiscerned, and Time which devours all things had now consumed above sir years of the seve● he had to serve his Master, but 〈◊〉 when his time of 〈…〉 nigh 〈◊〉, and that he ●●●an as it were to have an entrance into freedom, he off a sudden became a thrall to Cupid, being Captivated by the enchanting beauty of Ara●●lla his Master's Eldest daughter, but she had before so strongly placed her affection on Ralph her Father's journey man, that there was no corner of her heart lest to entertain the least, love of young Hawkwoods; yet notwithstanding he knew which way he affections were bend, and that she had wholly resigned up herself to the disposal of Ralph, yet did he not doubt but that his love and unfeigned service would in process of time so alienate her thoughts, that at length he might become Master of her affections; for well he knew that Ralph was of a froward peevish disposition, irreconcilable in anger, and apt upon the least distaste to forget all former though never so binding courtesses; and therefore he hoped that Ralph's undeservings, would at length so far unblinde her eyes as not to settle her affections where she saw no merit; and in the interim to draw her good opinion towards him, he became very serviceable to her in what business so ever that happened in the house wherein she had any thing to do; which she kindly accepted, interpreting it to his good Nature, and not in the least imputing it to Love, her thoughts being so wholly taken up in contemplation of the seeming 〈…〉 Ralph that now she began to see with no other eyes but what 〈◊〉 her, and to think no other thoughts but what he inspired.  
In the mean time imperious Love did so forment the heart of young Hawkwood that his life became irksome unto him, sleep was now become a stranger, and care and discontent his daily companions: His cheeks which before were as ruddy as the blushesof Aurora, were now converted to a thin paleness, his speeches were broken and imperfect, evermore concluding with a sigh for his period. Now company is loathsome to him, and his chief delight is in solitary places; he exclaims on Love as tyrannical, and blames the destinies for not being propitious to him. Many days did he waste thus in fruitless exclamations, at last he resolves upon the first opportunity to disclose his Love to the fair Arabella, (for Love by concealment increases, and private imaginations adds fuel to that fire) now long it was not e●re the blind Goddess put a Golden opportunity into his hands, for his dearest Love being so go some miles out of Town, young Hawkwood was by his Master commanded to attend on her, and being on their journey, having a fit time and place, to unsold his mind to her, he resolved to take time by the foretop, and not to let slip so fair an opportunity, whereupon with a bashful modestness he broke his mind to her in these words.  
My dearest Love (pardon my boldness that I so entitle thee) having for a long time took special notice of your supereminent endowments both of body and mind, I could not choose but first to like, and then to love thee; and upon a serious deliberation to approve of that Love. Startle not my dear at this sudden motion for what I now propound, is that which my heart doth dictute unto me, and not airy verbal expressions; Let not then my unfeign●ed affection receive a repelle, bu● rather a friendly entertainment, which I the better hope, since it would be altogether contrary to Nature, that any the least sparkle of cruelty should have habitation in so fair a sweet composed body.  
Much ado had Arabella to hold from interrupting him until he had done; many times was she about to speak, to check that love which she deemed in hi● great presumption, and with an angry reply to quenth that fire which she imagined was but as yet tending to a flame; but con●tary thoughts o●efn in exposed, affirming that it was méex injustice to repay Love with disdain, and to return harsh words for affectionate speeches, that the Gods though angry would be appeased with sacrifices, and there were few men so implacable in hatred, but that loving words would mollify their wrath, than that affectionate speeches proceeding from Love should procure anger, were quite contrary to reason, she therefore upon second thoughts resolved to alter her first resolution, yet so to daunt him in his Love suit, as to make him desist from prosecuting it any further, she therefore bid him leave off dreaming of such fond Chimaeras, at least not to make her the aim of his thoughts, seeing his judgement might have ●nform'd him otherwise, that she should never be brought to stoop to so low a lure as he, having been sought to by others so far beyond him; and therefore john (said she) let me advise you to follow your work, and leave off these idle fancies lest if you persist I so inform your Master of you, as shall return to your small advantage.  
How welcome this Answer was to young Hawkwood let them imagine who have been in the same condition, yet was he resolved (for all her words) not so to give over, accounting him but a cowardly Soldier that would 〈◊〉 for one shot of the Cannon, and therefore was minded to accost her the second bout, but drawing now near to their journey's end he reserved it for another time; not giving her any reply at all, and therefore Arabella well hoped that she had so sufficiently quashed her new Lover as not to hear of him in the like Nature again; but having dispatched their business and returning again homewards, quite contrary to her expectation, young Hawkwood began to renew his sult again in these words.  
Most dear Arabella, let not the prosecution of my former words be offensive to you, nor blame me for renewing my suit, though contrary to your command, since though by the one I incur your displeasure, yet without obtaining the other I can no longer subsist; O did you but feel those flames that burn in my breast, you would not seek to add to my affliction. But Arabella impatient of any further discourse tending to Love, presently replied, and can you be so bold to insist still on that which I so hate to hear, hath my former words wrought no greater impression in you, or can your impudence imagine that what I then spoke was but in jest? What audacious boldness hath thus possessed you, or with what extreme folly are you so misled, as to think I should cast away myself by condescension to so mean a person; because some forsooth have been so fond as to run away with their father's servants, thereby purchasing repentance with their own undoing, do you imagine to find the like by me, no Sir rest assured, I am of another temper▪ and therefore desist from urging your suit further, and save your breath for better purposes.  
This Answer was such a ●ooling Card to young Hawkwood that he durst not make her a reply, but hung down his head like a dull-rush, revolving a thousand things in his mind▪ so they silently passed on their journey, till (with the day) they brought it to an end, but our young Lover was so cast down, that no sooner was he come home but ●e went to bed, pretending weariness in travel, where we will leave him for the present, fretting and discontented at his adverse fortune.   

CHAP. II.  
Young Hawkwood being discontented goeth to be a Soldier, how William served Ralph the Journeyman, with other matters that ensued.  
THere was Apprentice in the same house with young Hawkwood a lad named William, about sixteen years of age, an ingenious youth who very much loved John Hawkwood, but could not so well affect the strange conditions and humours of Ralph the Journeyman. This William having of late marked the great alterations that were in Hawkwood, would needs be so inquisitive as to know of him the reasons thereof: promising (if it lay in his power) to refuse no danger to do him good; so that with much importunity Hawkwood revealed all unto him, conjuring him of secrecy, yet withal telling him that he was resolved since that his time was now expired, and that he proved so unfortunate in his Love, to forsake the Ensign of Cupid, and to p●t himself under the Banner of Mars. At that time King Edward the third laid claim to the Kingdom of France in Right of his Mother, and in pursuance of his title raised a mighty Army, and conducted them into France. With there went O●● discontented Lover, whose low fortunes could not then ra●●e him to a higher place than a private Soldier; who safely landed with the rest of the Army, where for a while we will leave him to relate how William served Ralph the Journeyman.  
Who soon after the departure of Hawkwood fell also deeply in love with the fair Arabella, and understanding how strongly her affections were placed on Ralph, he thought it the best policy to remove that obstacle out of the way before he discovered his love unto her, to this end he framed a Letter in Ralph's name to this effect.  
Dear Friend,  
I Received your Letter, and thank you for your good advice, but do not think I am so deep in Love but that I can go out of it when I please; no, Cupid's manacles are of no greater strength to bind my heart, than a twine thread is to hold a Giant, for Love which to others seems to be a great torment, is to me only a pastime, in beholding the vanity of our female Saints, w●●m two or three kind words can bring into a fools paradise: This could I instance in my fond Arabela, who thinks she hath my heart chaired to her devotions, when alas poor silly wench, upon sight of the next fair object it is ready to take flight, therefore rest confident that Love shall never cause my ruin, for I will never hang it on so close, but that I will easily shake it off, and so adieu,  
Your faithful friend Ralph.  
This Letter had William so cunningly counterfeited, that a knowing eye could not discern it from Ralph's own hand; his next policy was that Arabella only should have the sight of it, which was easily done, by dropping it unsealed whereby she was to pass, who stooping and taking it up, thinking by the Character it had been her Lover's hand, for the more secrecy in reading it she went into her own chamber, and perceiving his name at the bottom thereof, she then rested confident it was his own writing: but having read it over, the paper which before (as coming from him) she kissed with her lips, she could now scarcely forbear from tearing with he● hands, who had then seen her would have taken her for one of Diana's Nymphs metamorphosed into a fu●y, such a sudden change did th●se lines work in her heart, that what s●e before so much loved, now she as much loathed, what before was so highly honoured, is now as much abhorred, and that which was so greatly respected is now as much disliked. O Heavens (said she) why did you create so false a thing as man: and is it possible such dissimulation could harbour in that breast? who ever hereafter will trust to vo●s or protestations: O Sun why do not you extinquish your light since he so deeply swore, that you should sooner fall to run your course, than he would cease to be faithful unto me. Frown Heavens at these perjuries, and O you Gods panish these impleties, let dissimulation have his ●ust reward, and violation of faith suffer chastisement. In this manner did she exclaim on Ralph, whilst he remained both innocent and ignorant, and William who had wrought this mischief; was the least of all suspected. Now doth she alter her carriage to another tune, shunning as much as she could the very sight of him, such impressions of hatred had the Letter wrought in her. But her Revenge resteth not here, next she solicits her Father to turn him away, and that with such importunity, that she will have no denial, so that hereupon Ralph hath warning to be gone suddenly, at which he much marvalled yet not in the least suspected the reason, and now insending to impart his mind to his dearest Love, he ●inds her so far estranged as not to be spoken withal; Not an opportunity did he let slip where he imagined to meet her, but all his vigilancy could nothing avail, and the time drawing near wherein he was to depart, he therefore took Pen and Paper in hand, and writ to her as followeth.  
Most dear heart,  
WHat should cause his strangeness in you thus on a sudden, is to me altogether unknown, having to my knowledge given no just occasion; is love so light thus to be quite blown away and no reason to be given therefore; or can you so soon forget those solemn engagements passed between us? were there a ●ailing on my part, I should soon expiate the offence though with my dearest blood; be then so merciful a judge as not to condemn me before my cause be known, and if you find me guilty, then let me suffer your severest censure; in the mean time I shall desire to have the happiness as to plead my own cause before yourself, where I make no doubt but to be acquitted, and to prove myself,  
Your faithful servant Ralph.  
This Letter he conveyed to her hands by the Maid of the house, whom she chid for bringing it, yet nevertheless the opened and read it; but William's counterfeit Letter had so far possessed her with an evil opinion of him, that what he had written gained no credence with her, but rather exasperated her more than before, she judging it to be all but mere dissimulation, and therefore to check his arrogancy (as she imagined it) she took Pen in hand and returned him this following Answer.  
With what confidence or impudence rather, you could thus write unto me, I much marvel: is this your course, to entrap Maid's hearts by Dissimulation, and then to insult over them for their pains I can you carry so fair a gloss upon so foul a Text, or think ye I am so ignorant of your ways as you would have me to be; is your large protestations come to conclude in perjuries; and was the end of your oaths only to deceive; false man, hadst thou none to abuse but me, and must you needs boast of your victory before you had fully obtained it? blame me not then if I turn haggard, and resufe to come again to your lure: in the mean time, go court some other Lasses, whose credulity you may abuse by Dissimulation as you have done mine, and let not impudence prevail so far further with you as to trouble me again with another Letter, for know I hate the very memory of thee, much less shall I abide either to see or hear from thee,  
Your deserved enemy Arabella.  
By the same hand which brought her the Letter, did she return him the answer, which h●w welcome it was to Ralph, let them imagine who having been in Love, have met with the like misunderstandings in their affections, guessing at many things which might cause this sudden alteration, but still being ignorant of the true cause, and now as one utterly desperate of real mission into her labour, he resolves to abandon utterly all thoughts of Love, and betake himself to the camp of Mars; in prosecution of which purpose, some further aids being sending over into France, to valiant King Edward (whose martial actions began now to be spoken off the whole world over) he lifts himself a Soldier amongst them, but before his departure he sent this Copy of Verses to his incensed Arabella.  

Farewell thou unkind dearest, whom my eyes  
Did once; more than the world's chief treasure prize,  
Whose beauty, and whose constancy were deemed  
More than all other women were esteemed,  
How comes it that thou so unkind shouldst prove  
To him whom once thou promidst for to love,  
Who thought such falsehood ere in thee to find,  
Or is all faith now fled from women kind;  
Then fare thou well, all happiness attend thee;  
And may the Gods a truer Lover send thee.   
Having sent her these Verses, and the wind standing fair, he took Ship, and being aided both 〈◊〉 Neptune and Aeolus, they in short time arrived in France. It has then about the time of the Year when the Lady Flora had man●led the earth in a rich suit of Tap●●●y, and the winged Choristers of the Wood did chant 〈…〉 Harmony. Now the sons of Mars, lay 〈◊〉 in the 〈◊〉 and several 〈◊〉 had passed betwixt both Armies; wherein the French most commonly had the worst; wherefore considering with themselves the danger they were in, how their armies every day decreased, their Towns continually taken by the English, and King Edward's side growing stronger and stronger; they therefore assembled a mighty Army to oppose him, and therewith confronted him near to a place called Cressy: having in their Company a Champion of an extraordinary strength, and very much renowned for several achievements he had done; This Champion (whom the French called Lilio) at such time as the Armies began to approach near to one another, he sent a bold challenge to the English host, daring the best of them all to encounter with him, which challenge being full of pride and arrogancy, was written as followeth.  
Imperious Englishmen, whose ambition hath made you to cross the Seas into this our renowned Kingdom of France, and to wage War with him who for his valour and piety hath the attribute of the most Christian King bestowed upon him; think you because you have given us some petty defeats, and destroyed and burnt some few inconsiderable Villages, that you shall be able to conquer the Crown of France, or to bring under the Frenchmen whose valour the World hath always had in admiration; no, know that I am the man who will stand in the gap to stop your proceedings, and thereupon do Challenge the boldest Champion in your host to encounter with me in single Combat, which if he shall be so foolhardy as to undertake, you shall soon perceive the difference betwixt the manhood of the renowned French, and the pusilianity of Dastards, such as I count the English to be.  
A foe to Cowards, the renowned Lilio.  
This proud Challenge being sent into the English camp, filled those Sons of Mars with scorn and disdain of this Beagadocio; yet they were resolved to answer his folly, and to make him know the great difference betwixt words and deeds, and the noble resolution of an Englishman; before the vain boasting of the French: But none was more eager to take up this bold Challenger than was the renowned Hawkwood, whose notable valour had now advanced him to the degree of a Captain, and therefore he humbly desired the King to permit him to undertake the same, to which the King having has proof of his abilities, graciously condescended, whereupon the noble Hawkwood returned him an answer in these following lines.  
Proud Frenchman who thinkest with high words to work wonders, and art so bold to vilify that Nation 〈◊〉 have always been your betters at the exercise of arms; But find thy inconsiderate rashness will needs prompt thee to thy destruction, know that thy challenge shall be answered, when if thou canst perform what thy paper hath promised, thou wilt have more cause to brag, but ●f thou be'st overcome by my arm (as I make no doubt but thou wilt) thou mayst then repent of thy folly, and be an example to others to brag less, without they could perform more  
John Hawkwood.  
About the time that this combat was fought, Ralph the Journerman with some other English aids was newly arrived at King Edward's Canty, who seeing the valour of his fellow-servant, and how the whole host rang of his praises, was exceeding joyful thereof, (being utterly ignorant that Sir John was his rival in Love,) and minding to reveal himself unto him, he at last found a fit opportunity, being sree from Company and separated from business, whom he accosted in these words.  
Sir I very much applaud your valour, and thank the destinies that so guided your hand, as to overthrow the Frenchman's pride, indeed I much longed to see you, but to see you a Conqueror, and that in such a high nature, it doth indeed almost ravish me with joy: So it is that being crossed in my affections with the fair but false Arabella, whole beauty is but a varnish to her deceitful heart, and her tyrannical squeamishness enough to make me hate all women kind, being as I say thus crossed by Cupid, I thought to find Mars more favourable, and France being now the stage of action, I resolved to put my self an actor thereon, where it hath been my good hap even upon my very first joining to those Sons of Bellona, to see and hear your honoured achievements. Deign therefore renowned Hawkwood to entertain your once fellow servant Ralph, and though not in the degree of a friend, yet into the condition of a servant, whom you shall find obsequious to you, and not unworthy the trust you shall repose in me.  
Sir John Hawkwood, who at the first beheld Ralph with some regret, as knowing him the main obstacle he had in the fair Arabella's love, finding by his discourse she had likewise cast him off, and considering with himself, the deceitfulness of that sex, how their love is like to breath on st●●, soon on and soon off, although at first he intended to take no notice of him, but for his love's sake to have rejected h●s acquaintance, yet hearing now how the case went, he quite altered his mind, welcoming him with the highest expressions of Love possible, and after some further short communication, had him to his Tent; where he gave him friendly entertainment, and not long after made him a Sergeant under his Command, where for a while we will leave them, to rela●e in the mean time what passed betwixt William and the fair Arabella.   

CHAP. III.  
How William courted the fair Arabella, how his counterfeit Letter came to be discovered, and how she likewise cast him off.  
Whilst these things passed in France; William who judged now all fair weather, and that all lets were removed which might be any hindrance to the prosecution of his designs, being as deeply scorched with the flames of Cupid, as the other two had been who were now in France, be resolves without delay to let fair Arabella know the same, which was the easier to be done, he being now upon the absence of the other two, the foreman of the shop, and by his valls which he had gotten having accoutred himself something more than an ordinary Prentice, having also an accurate wit, and volubile tongue, all incentives to Love, and which indeed drew the heart of Arabella upon the absence of Ralph, to have a very good opinion of him, that opinion causing liking; and liking quickly producing affection, so that she was not any ways nice to keep him company, nor did she show such averssness in carriage but what did promise him great hopes of obtaining her Love, wherefore emboldened thereby, one day as they were al●ne be broke his mind to her in these words.  
Arabella wi●h much patience heard him all this while but least she should seem t●o forward, she would at least appear so froward as to tell him that for her part she had utterly abandoned all thoughts of Love ●ut of her breast, and having now broken Cupid's bonds, she desired not to come under his 〈◊〉 againe She therefore wished him to desist f●om his amorous humour, or if he were minded to persist, to place his affection ●ns●me more deserving pe●son then herself.  
William who though but a Novice in Love, yet perceived by her answer that it was so far from tending to a flat denial, as it gave him more hopes to prosecute his suit; for he was not so ignorant in the art of Love, but that he knew, a woman's tongue and heart were not relatives, and that they would seem to push away that with their little finger, which they would willingly pull back again with both their hands he therefore prosecuted again his suit in these words.  
Let not my dearest Arabella say so, and condemn love for one man's miscarriage what should the Mariner refuse ever to venture again, for being once shipwrecked! or should the wrestler forswear that exercise because he once received a fall; think not dear Love all men are wavering, nor let not one man's unfaithfulness condemn the whole sex● 'tis true, we read that Demophoon was false, but Theagines was constant, Aeneus was disloyal, but Pyramus true to death: Set therefore the ones faith against the others faults, and let the virtues of the one balance the vices of the other; though Ralph was unconstant, William will prove faithful, though all men should prove false, yet would I continue true.  
Arabella though she judged herself deceived before in Ralph, yet was by these words brought into such a confidence of William's integrity, that she had almost yielded up the Fort, and revealed the affection she bore unto him; but upon better consideration, she resolved to make a further trial of his loyalty, and by a moderate delay have a sure proof of his constancy, she therefore returned him a dubious answer, which as it gave him no great denial, so did it not any ways assure him of her affection. For William (said she) you men are so apt to change, and so given to unconstancy, notwithstanding all your protestations, that we Maids are many times beguiled by your willy snares, and whereas men accuse our Sex of fickleness, the fault is in them, for we only change our loves as men change their conditions; and are constant to them so long as they are true to themselves, yet am not I so out of Love with Cupid, but that I could willingly come under his subjection, could I meet with a lover as true in deeds as kind in words, and ●herefore till I have had a further proof of your constancy, give me leave to wave any further conclusion,  
With this Answer was William very well satisfied, hugging himself in his supposed happiness, that others should beat the bush, and he catch she bird, not doubting in the least the obtaining of Arabella's l●ve and now his heart being merry, and taking care sor nothing, as he was one day at work, he began to sing a song in praise of his Trade as followeth.  

Of all the Trades that ere hath been,  
The Tailors doth most credit win,  
For let them all say what they can  
The Tailor is the only man.   

Adam was the first o'th' Trade  
When he his clothes of Fig-leaves made;  
His skill in Trade than first appearing  
To make clothes for his and Eves wearing.   

Your Gallant that so brave doth show,  
It is the Tailor makes him so,  
For when his clothes are off, he than  
Doth show like unto other men.   

The Tailor hath the only sleight,  
To make a crooked body straight,  
With bombast he their faults can cover,  
One shoulder shows as high as tother.   

A Taylor is without all danger  
Admitted to a Lady's Chamber,  
Where though she be never so chaste  
He will take measure of her waist.   

How should we but for Tailors do  
When Northern winds so cold do blow,  
Had we no clothes to keep us warm  
Those bitter blasts would do us harm.   

Without them all things put together  
We never should endure the weather;  
Then let them all say what they can,  
The Tailor is the only man.   
In this manner did William pass away the time in much jolli●y, having often secret conferrance with his dearest Arabella, so that now at last they began to draw towards some conclusion of agreement, and to think upon a prefixed time for the marriage day; when on a sudden all was broken off again, and this serenity of Air turned to cloudy and blustering weather, and that upon occasion as followeth.  
There was living in the same house a Maidservant named Dorothy, who had a long time been in love with William, but thorough a Maidenly bashfulness had concealed the same. It chanced one time that she being in the next room where William and Arabella had a conference, she over heard their private discourse, and notwithstanding she might perceive by their talk that the business was near unto a conclusion, yet out of a womanish revenge, she resolved if she could not have him herself, to hinder any other from the enjoyment of him. She goes therefore first and acquaints her Master and Mistress with each particular circumstance, aggravating the matter, and wresting each word had been spoken to the worst sense, but this not prevalling, both Master and Mistress having a good opinion of William, and thinking their daughter might be worse bestowed. She went another way to work, for having by some means got an inkling how Ralph wa● served by the sergeant Letter, she well hoped that would do the feat, and therefore the next opportuntty that she sound Arabella alone, she set her wits on the tenterhooks to aggravate the offence, which she did after this manner.  
I cannot but wonder Mrs. Arabella, nay pity your hard fortune, that you should be thus deluded in the placing of your affection, well did the Poets feign that Love is blind, not descerning desert from dissimulation, or truth from treachery, is it possible that you could reject a Dovelike innocency, and receive a Snake into your bosom: That you cou●d cast off Ralph's unfeigned affection to embrace Wi●liams dissembling carriage! O Gods how blind are we in our choice, how apt to believe falsities for veritnes how dull not to disceri truth from dissimulation; now to rectify your error, I c●uld inform you of your mistake but why should I counsel them that are obstinate, or speak to them that I know will not hear, and yet how can I that love your welfare refrain to speak? or why should I be silent in a matter of so great moment, and yet sure better to do so then otherwise, since Council rejected is but cast away, and to speak to the deaf, is but lost labour.  
These words she used, well hoping they would make Arabella the more inquisitive to know, and indeed she missed not of her mark, sor the more the one seemed loath to tell, the more eager was the other to be informed, so that at last as it were enforced, (yet pretending it only a real affection unto her,) she declared how Ralph was utterly ignorant of that Letter which came to her hands, how it was of William's contriving, only on purpose to beat her off of his love, highly ertolling Ralph's deservings, and as much extenuating Williams due desert; This news much astonished the fair Arabella. And is it possible said she, that treachery can lie hid under such a vail of modesty; can so fair a tongue have so foul a heart, or such sugared words serve only to candy over worse actions? O ye Gods why did ye create so false a thing as man, or not endue him with more reality, unhappy Arabella what unlucky Star governed at thy Nativity, or what ominous signs foreboded thy misfortunes; was I appointed to be fortunes May game, or destined for an example to others to beware of men's treachery; and yet why do I thus suddenly break forth into this exclamation, may not he be wrongfully accused, and I more too blame for being so over credulous, and therefore my dearest Dorothy ay conjure thee to be silent in what thou hast told me● till time the father of truth shall make all things appear, in the mean space I shall not be idle to use my best endeavours in the prosecution thereof.  
And now she began to look on William with a squint eye, her smiles were turned to frowns, discontent sat on her forehead, and all private intercourse laid aside betwixt them. In the mean time Fame's Golden Trumpet had loudly sounded forth the heroic actions of Sir John Hawkwood and Ralph the Journeyman, none in the English Camp more daring than they, having performed many gallant adventures, insomuch that fortune seemed chained to their swords. This artiving at the ears of Dorothy (as going often to the Market where news was stirring) she presently acquaints Arabella therewith, setting forth their praises (especially Ralph's) in so high a language, and acquaint demonstrations, as if she herself had been an eye witness, here would she describe a battle, the great strength of the enemy, the disadvantage of the place for the English, how fortune a long time favoured the French, and how at last the scales were turned, and victory plucked out of her hands as it were by mere force, and all by the valour of these two renowned Champions, than would she show the honour attendant on victory, with what respects they were entertained wheresoever they came, how they carried the Goddess victory in triumph along with them, the whole Camp sounding forth their praises. This news as it tickled the ears of Arabella with delight, so did it cause in her a sudden discontentment for the loss of such two servants who had both of them expressed such love unto her, so that she began again afresh to renew her complaints, and to exclaim on fortune, when suddenly she was called to the door, a Messenger waiting for her there with a Letter, which when she had received, and knowing by the Character it was Ralph's hand, a modest blush died her cheeks into a vermilion colour, but having broke open the Seal, she found it to contain these words.  
To that Paragon of beauty the renowned Arabella.  
With what regret I have passed away the time since I have been absent from ye, as it is unknown unto you, so am I as utterly ignorant what should move you to such averseness; for was it possible such deep promises, and solemn engagements, could be so suddenly broken off, without showing a reason why; certainly that Love had but a weak foundation, which should cause the whole structure so on an instant to fall; well may your Sex be accused of Levity if without any occasion you can so suddenly change; more fickle than the Weathercock, which yet turns but according to the Wind, pray pardon the expression, since a sharp reproof is more wholesome than a flattering compliment, and these times have more need of the satire than the Sonnet. If the remembrance of me be not quite banished out of your memory, I should think it a happiness to hear from you; but if your affections have taken up another habitation, and all those mutual engagements betwixt us be utterly forgotten, yet this shall be my comfort that the breach was not on my part, but that I can with confidence subscribe myself  
Your faithful friend Ralph.  
Having read the Letter and thoroughly considered each circumstance thereof, she then began to be ●●lly confident that Dorothy had told her nothing but truth, so 〈◊〉 the fi●e of revenge lay burning in her breast against William, yet did she for a while wisely cover it under the a●hes of Dissimulation, until finding a fit opportunity, and that the heat of passion was over, she then uttered her mind to ●im in these words.  
Treacherous man; thus to betray thy friend, and abuse me, with what confidence canst thou appear before me being conscious of thy own guilt; art thou not afraid the divine vengeance should pursue thee, as once the Harpies did P●neus the Arcadian King! Thou that canst counterf●it Love as well as le●ters, and mast commence Doctor in the art of Dissimulation; whose word▪ and deeds like Janus face look two several ways, having the Theory of honesty, but canst not abide the practic part, being like to the Apples of modem, which Historians say, are beautiful without, but dirt within, art not thou he whose pretensions to honesty were so large, as if thou wouldst engross the whole Commodity to thyself; now out of that abundance where withal you are endued, pray tell me what point of honesty is that, by counterfeiting Letters to set the dearest friends at variance, to dissolve that band of friendship, which had been tied together by so many solemn promises and engagements, away then false man, whose treachery hath made thee justly odious, and think with thyself if thy unworthy actions hath not made thee justly to deserve the hatred of all womankind.  
William would have replied something in excuse of himself and extenuating his crime, but Arabella would not suffer him to speak; False man (said she) and canst thou be so impudent, as to deny so apparent a truth, hast not thou more cause to blush and be ashamed at these thy perfidious actions, with what confidence canst thou look upon the Sun, who is a witness to thy falsities, or how dar'st thou behold the light, for discovering thy impieties; What hopes is there that he will be true to me, who hath deceived another; or what trust is there to be reposed in him who hath been once found treacherous; is not a noted Liar justly suspected when he speaks an unlikely truth; and do not we commonly condemn them of theft, who have been once guilty of stealing; how then can I think thou wilt be true to me, who hast been false to thy friend, or imagine thou wilt deceive no more, when thou hast deceived already. O no, may I never be pitied for my misfortune, if I will not beware having so fair a warning, hence forward therefore; expect no more from me then the courtesy of an enemy, since by thy treacherous actions, I have forgone so worthy a friend.  
Having ●tter'd these speeches away she went in a fustian fume, leaving William much perplexed at her words; for his Prenticeship now drawing towards a conclusion, he intended as soon as it was out to have married and set up for himself, but this unexpected answer of Arabella, quite altered the scene of his whole affairs, so that he was now a new to seek what course to take▪ much did he wonder how she came to know of the Letter, imagining many, but never mistrusting the right party that told her, for Dorothy though she had razed this storm behind his back, let still carried calm weather in her face towards him, hoping if he was once quite off with Arabella, he would be induced to come on with her; but though she effected the one with ease, the other was hard to compass, for William by this answer of Arabella, was grown quite out of Love with all womenkind, insomuch that in detestation of the Sex, as he was at work one day, he breathed out this song against them.  

Who hopes to find a woman kind  
is like to lose his labour,  
` 'tis like to bagging up the wind  
or playing on a Taber,  
The one small profit comes thereby  
The other yields less melody,  
In either there's no saver.   

Why should I then repine, or once  
sigh, cause my Love doth leave me,  
Since she was born for th' very nonce  
on purpose to deceive me,  
A woman flatters if she smiles,  
If weeps; her tears are Crocodiles,  
Which ten times worse will grieve thee.    

CHAP. FOUR  
Dorothy seeks to gain William's Love, how Ralph and Arabella were reconciled and a Marriage concluded betwixt William and Dorothy.  
DOrothy having had knowledge how the match was broken off betwixt William and Arabella, she began to set her wi●a on work how to draw his affection unto her, loathe she was to discover her love to him in plain terms, yet willing she was he should know she loved him; many haits she used, and several Engines she set on work for that purpose, but all would not do, William either knew not, or at least would not seem to know her meaning; 〈◊〉 notwithstanding these Remora's, she would not give over her Projects so, but resolved to hait her hook with several ingredients, hoping at last the fish would ●ite, her next device therefore was to reveal the same to him by a third person, to this purpose she acquainted a trusty friend of hers with the Project, giving him instructions how to proceed therein, who in a little space found a fit opportunity to speak unto William thereof, but so covertly, and in such fit words, that the device was not in the least perceived, for having galned from William by his discourse that when his time was out he intended to go from his Master, he then persuaded him to take upon him a Marriage life, extolling it highly, and setting forth all the privileges that a Married man enjoys above a single person; and having as he thought wrought him into a good opinion of that kind of life, he then commended Dorothy to him as a fit person to make a wife on, highly commending and extolling her rare perfections both of body and mind, but William's thoughts were fixed upon another object, and though he gave him the hearing, yet minded not to follow his counsel however he thanked him for his advice, but told him Marriage was a matter of so high a concernment as required some deliberation, that for his part he intended to do nothing rashly, since hasty Marriages were most commonly soon repent of, yet he would take time to consider thereof, and therefore for the present desired him to make no further discourse of it.  
In the mean time Sir John Hawkwoods' name grew famous in France, for like a true Hawk he seldom missed of his prey, nor did the Tailor's sheirs clip the wings of his fame, but by his valour he made his Trade renowned, so that the most noble persons in the Army desired his acquaintance, for by his ingenuity he attained to such perfeaion in Arms, that his rules were held for Maxims in the art military. The King also to honour him the more gave him a Coat of Arms significant to his name, which was a Hawk flying in a Wood, with a Lion and Griffen for the supporters. Ralph also was for his deferts razed from a Sergeant to be a Lieutenant, who by his courteous and deboneyre carriage purchased to himself the love of the Soldiers, and other inferior officers.  
But the fair Arabella was much perplexed with the thoughts of the wrong she had done unto Ralph, so that the grief thereof brought her into a sickness, and that so deadly, that notwithstanding all means used for her recovery, her Parents began to despair of her life; for the Doctors were ignorant in her disease, and therefore the less able to prescribe her a Remedy, and though she were often urged by her friends if Love were not the cause of her distemper, yet would she confess nothing, but kept all to herself, and to blind them from knowing the Original of her malady, she imputed it to an excessive cold, she had gotten by walking late in the fields, and now her sickness ●●creasing, she endeavoured all she could to put the remembrance of Ralph out of her mind, but the more she endeavoured it, the more did it come into her memory, and now that Love which a while ago, was in a manner quite quenched, begun to burn more than ever before; no rest could she take, it being now a stranger unto her, her chief companion was sorrow and trouble. In this languishing condition she resolved to send a Letter to Ralph, to ease her heart, and to clear the misunderstanding that had betwixt them, which Letter contained these words.  
To her faithful friend Ralph.  
IF a fair acknowledgement may serve the turn for the wrong I have done ye, here you have it under my hand, I shall not say much in my own excuse it was my too much credulity; that was my fault; a counterfeit Letter written by William under your name was the cause, his obtaining of my Love was the design, but upon the discovery; my just hatred towards him proves to be the effect. Thus have you in short the cause of our breach, if a fair reconcilement may succeed this acknowledgement, I shall willingly embrace it, and as I was the first that committed the fault so am I the first that offer reconcilement,  
Your discousolate friend Arabella.  
This Letter she sent away with all the speed she could, which when Ralph had received, and 〈◊〉 over he much marvalled at the strange carriage of things, highly resenting William's fraud, and not altogether excusing Arabella's credulity; for though if it had been true, he had been deservedly rejected, yet to cast him off upon the first surmizal without further proof, he thought was hard meal use however he imputed it only so her circumspection, wherein we cannot be too careful, when the beargain extends to the length of our lives, and therefore he res●●ed to send her a comfortable answer, which would be a better Cordial to●then the best Physician of them all could prescribe. His answer wa●● ntaired in these word.  
My dearest Araballa.  
WOnder not if in reading over your Letter I was stricken into astonishm ents for who could have imagined such falsehood could have been found in William, what faith can be given to foes, if friends prove thus false; or what confidence can we repose in strangers, i● household acquaintance thus degenerate; and yet take it not 〈◊〉 (my dearest Arabella) if I blame you for light belief, did you thank I would falsify that faith I had so solemnly engaged unto you or did you imagine the sight of another face would make me alter my affection: No, far be such thoughts from taking up their lodging in my breast, and may I for ever be estranged from giving harbour to such thoughts; since than thou hast proffered reconciliation (although there was never no breach on my side,) I willingly embrace in and as it is said of broken bones that being once knit again together, they grow the stronger, so I hope our friendship by this breach; will be the more strongly cemented and durable hereafter, and that it may be true of us what the Poet once sung Amantium is a amoris, redente gratia est.  
Yours constant till death Ralh.  
Having sealed it up and ready to send away; he often kissed it instead of the party it was directed unto; ah blessed paper (said he) which shall kiss the hands of her that commands the very all of my 〈◊〉; how do I envy thy happiness which shall be admitted whether my present occasions will not permit me to come, how will whiteness appear to be sullied, when it comes to be near her more whiter hands? Now if thou attainest to that honour, that after thy reading thou breast admitted unto her bosom, being so near her heart, inform it how true and faithful I have been unto it, what sorrows I have endured since it was estranged from me, and how happy I count myself in its return unto me; so fare thou well dear paper, and mayst thou be the messenger of as much comfort unto her, as heart can wish, or tongue express.  
Arabella having received this Letter and read it over was greatly satisfied therewith, so that now her thoughts being free from those perturbations which lately afflicted them, her body began also to participate with her thoughts, and to recover that loveliness which before it had lost, she that but now so veid of strength as unable to stir a foot, could now walk about the house without any supporter, fresh Roses budded in her cheeks, which before were pale and wan, and beauty which e'er while lay a dying began now in appear in its fullest lustre, mirth which had been a long time a stanger unto her, began now to be her familiar, and all things tended to a perfect recovery, such a strong influence hath Love over our 〈◊〉, that it can kill and cure, according as affectors lead us.  
And now the time of William apprenticeship was out, when perceiving no hopes of regaining Arabel as affect●●● he likewise resolved to go over into France, tottry his cha●●● is 〈◊〉 Lottery. This his resolution being make known 〈◊〉, D'orothy, 〈◊〉 much perplexed her, fearing that after all the pai●● 〈…〉 to win him, the should now lose him at the long run; but being of an Indefatigable spirit, and not daunted at any disaster, she took up a resolution to impart her mind unto him herself, and either dissuade him from his intended journey, or draw him to a better opinion of her Love; to this purpose, the next Holiday she invited him to an Ant of hers, who lived at Isling●on, and sold Cakes and Ale, William very kindly accepted of her pro●●er, and went along with her, where he was very merry, and drank freely, and now being something elevated, and that the liquour began to operate in his Crown, he (according to the custom 〈…〉) began to throw out some jesting words of Love to Dorothy 〈◊〉 is manner.  
In faith Mistress Dorothy I much marvel that so rare a beauty, and such excellent gifts of mind, should continue so long without a husband, but you Maids are endued with such selfdenying principles, that you will seem froward although men be never so forward; and yet let me advise ye not to be so coy, for beauty is but a fading flower and the time of our youth soon posteth away, and if you defer till such time as the mark be out of your mouth, in troth for aught I know, you may go along with the rest of the company, to that ridiculous employment of leading Apes in Hell.  
Dorothy seeling him in this merry humour thought it was good striking whilst the Iron was hot, wherefore she embraced the present opportunity, and thus replied.  
Then I hope William you that are so wise in counselling others, will not be unmindful of yourself, but take time by the foretop, before age steals upon you undiscerned and yet methinks if your mind were so bend, you might have English beauties enough whereon to fix your affection, that should not need to ramble into France, but you perhaps will say, it is not Venus but Mars invites you thither, & that you de light more in arms then in amours; that a Soldier's life merits praise, and that honour is the reward of Valour; suppose this were true, but how many dangers must you run thorough before you attain to what you propose; how few be there that attain it, how many thousands are their that perish in the pursuit of it? and besides are not the private Soldiers them that endure the heat of the battle, and yet, do not the Commanders carry the honour of the day; I omit here the dangers of the Sea in your passage over, the indispostion of your body by reason of a different climate, the tediousness of sickness when absent from friends, with a thousand other things which I might allege, every one of them of sufficient weight to alter your mind from your intended journey, but suppose you could overcome all these difficulties, and escape all the dangers I have here spoken off, yet what is your aim in all this, but that having run thorough so many hazards, you would then desire to live in peace, and that the Sun of your Life should set in a calm evening, and why may not you as well live in peace now, without exposing yourself to all those hazards, when (as I said before) not one in a thousand that doth attain to his proposed ends, for though death be not far off from any one of us, yet is he always 〈…〉 Soldiers 〈◊〉; my counsel therefore to you is, to settle your thoughts and affections here in England; for a trundling stone never gather moss, and a rambling mind is never in quiet.  
But said William, it is travail that accomplishes a Man, makes him fit for discourse, and gains him experience in the affairs of the world. O how dull and rustical are they who never went further than the smoke of their own Chimneys, fit only to discourse of the Plough and the Flail; Then for a Soldier's life, what greater honour then to fight in defence of his King and Country! and for the perils you speak of; that are incident to the Wars, the Poet gives you a sufficient Answer.  
What danger comes to him whom walls of Iron  
Both back and breast, and also head enviorn.  
For the dangers of the Sea; indeed they are many, and yet who can promise themselves security on Land; nay, doth not Death triumph far more on Land then at Sea, although the Sea be more spacious than the Land, and if a man be destinied to be drowned, what matter is it, when he is dead, whether he become food for fishes, or a feast for the Worms. Then for the inconveniency of being in a strange Country, to a wise man every Land is his own home; and should sickness surprise us, no Nation so barbarous as to wrong those who are not able to right themselves, when many times at home we suffer that by the neglect of our kindred, which a stranger out of a Christian compassion will not suffer to be offered unto us. But the main business you drive 〈◊〉, is (I suppose) that by marrying, and settling myself to my vocation, I might enjoy the pleasures of the world, live at home in quiet, and content myself with only hearing what others do; indeed Marriage is an honourable late, and if a men meet not with the honester wife, a hornable state likewise, sith than 〈◊〉 wives are thick sown and thin come▪ up, I mean to fetch a ramble, to see if such creatures live in other Countries.  
Introth William (quoth Dorothy) perhaps there you may be fitted, and have one as dear bought as far fetched, which though proverbially it be good for Ladies,, yet I think by consequence you may speed better nearer home, for going so far, though your ware be light, yet for aught I know it may prove dear of the carriage. And why so addicted to the mode of France; are our English beauties so contemptible; or are they not rather the glory of their Sex; for why else is it so commonly spoken that to the making up of a complete woman, there is required the parts of a Dutch-woman from the girdle downwards, the parts of a French-woman from the girdle to the shoulders, over which must be placed an English face to the perfecting of all the rest: And therefore William if your mind be more addicted to the tail then to the top, I should rather advise you to go unto Holland then France, where (if the saying be true) the women are most complete, and if you fear to venture on marriage state for fear of horning, of all women have a care of the French, who (they say) are as full of fire, as the Dutchwomen are of Ice.  
By this time the Sun began to draw towards his Western home, so that Dorothy●earing ●earing she should let the slip without speaking any thing to the purpose, she therefore began to draw nearer to him, and with a well composed countenance spoke as followeth.  
But suppose William you could light of a Maid to your mind, one whose features and fortunes would be equivalent to you, could you be so cynial as to refuse such a match? is not a wife a second self, a bosom friend, a rich Cabinet wherein a man may lock up his secrets; a partner with him in all sorrows and ears, a true friend in time of need, a yokefellow to draw with him thorough the cumbersome cares & perplexities of this World? I might enlarge myself very much on this matter but the thing is so apparent as witheut all contradiction, unless it be by such women-haters as that Cynical Philosopher Diogenes, who being asked when it was best time to marry, replied, for young men it is too soon, and for old men it is too late, inferring thereby it was not good to marry at all▪ but this we must take as spoken by Diogenes, who had not the 〈◊〉 of Dog given him for nought, for should all be of his mind the World would be a desert within these hundred years. And therefore William let ●e advise ye, as one that loves ye well, to give over this project of travailing, which can be no ways advantageous unto you, and to think upon some person of whom to make a wife, for certainly no Maid▪ if at least she be of my mind,) that will refuse to join with you in marriage.  
These words were spoken home to the purpose, so that William could not choose but take notice of her meaning; and therefore now his hand was in, and that the fair Arabella was quite cut of his mind. he suddenly replied, then in troth Mrs. Dorothy I shall take you at your word, and since it is said few words to a bargain are best we will make no long circumstance about the matter, for you are she I shall pitch upon to be my Bride. Dorothy by h●r silence gave consent, and so with a kiss they clapped up the bargain. But the next morning after William had slept, and thoroughly considered of what he had done, he begun to repent himself that he had been so hasty, and though he meant to perform his promise, yet he resolved first to go over into France: This his resolution he imparted to Dorothy, who endeavoured all she could to persuade him to she contrary: but upon his promise that he would return in a short time, with deep protestations of his fidelity unto her, she at last gave her consent, so having provided all things ready, he took ship, and having a prosperous wind he in short time arrived in France.   

CHAP. V.  
How Sly the Lawyer was deceived in his Bedfellow by the means of Dorothy.  
THere was an old Country Lawyer named Sly that was near of kin to Dorothies' Master, who coming to London every Term, to save charges used to lie there, this Lawyer was a stale bachelor, but very lecherous, and yet so penurious that he was loath to be at the changes to maintain a wife, for he thought it was more saving, not to keep a Cow of his own, so long as he could have a quart of Milk for a penny. Now it was his chance to be at London soon after that William was gone into France, and Dorothy using to tend on him in his Chamber, the old Leather thought to draw her to his will; and having presented her with some slight gifts, more gaudy than costly, he at last broke his mind unto her, promising her Mountains if she would fulfil his desire, Dorothy at first gave him very snappish answers, threatening to make his business known to her Master, but the ●awrer still persisted in his suit, adding still more gifts to the former, so that at the last as overcome she séemingly condescended unto him; and promised the next Night when her Master and Mistress was in ●ed to come and lie with him; The lecherous Goat was overjoyed at these words hugging himself in his supposed delight, and persuading himself that she meant unfeignedly. But Dorothy against the appointed time, had provided him a bedfellow which proved very little to his content. There was a deformed lame woman which used to do the drudgery belonging to the house, this Creature had Dorothy persuaded to act her part, and gave her instructions how to manage it wisely, greatly charging her not to speak to him for●ear of discovery, which she might well do under a vail of modesty, and so having taught her her lesson at the time appointed she conducted her so the Lawyer's Chamber, who was gotten to bed with a longing expectation of Dorothies' company; but now hearing the Chamber door open. and the woman coming to his bed's side, his heart was overjoyed, and putting his arm out of the bed, clasped it about her neck, and gave her a kiss, saying. Now I see Dorothy thou art as good as thy word, come prithee make haste and pull off thy cloth, for I have kept thy place warm against thy coming. The woman was soon unready and went into the bed, but when the Lawyer began to embrace her, he thought he smelled an ill favoured favour, and therefore he said, prithee Dorothy what hast thou been doing off, thou smellest so strong of Kitchenstuff I am not able to endure, good sweetheart go to the window, where stands a glass of Rose-water wherewith thou most make thyself sweeter. The woman hereupon rose out of the bed, and went to the window, intending to make herself all honey for the Lawyer, but instead of the Rose-water, she took up an ink-glass, and pouring it into the palm of her hand, she rubbed therewith her face, neck and breasts, wherewith she made herself so amiable, that had it been in the light, she would have frighted the Lawyer's lechery away, having done this, she went to bed again, and though she were not much the sweeter, yet the heat of lust made him bear with all ill-favoured smells, now first against the time they should rise, Dorothy went and called up her Master, Mistress and Arabella, telling them the Lawyer lay a dying, and that he was just now giving up the Ghost, whereupon half unready they ran to his Chamber with all the speed they could; the Lawyer and his bedfellow were much frighted at this sudden intrusion, but when he had drawn the Curtain, and saw what manner of Creature he had lain with all night, he began to cry out, the Devil, the Devil; Arabella, with her Father and Mother were as much frighted, thinking it had been the Devil indeed but when they heard, the woman speak calling him old lecherous Rogue, with all the Billingsgate terms she could reckon up, they then perceived who it was; whereupon their great fear was turned into an excessive laughter; Dorothy who had practised all this mischief, was now most busy in laughing at it, but the Lawyer was so ashamed, that getting up, he bid them adien, and never after that time came to the house any more.   

CHAP. VI  
William kindly entertained in France by Sr. John Hawkwood, Ralph challenges him to fight, and upon discontent returns into England.  
William having prosperously arrived in France, went the next way to the English Camp, being conducted thither by the trumpet of Fame which loudly sounded forth their Heroic praises; where he found Sr. John Hawkwood like the Son of Bellona, intentive upon his Martial affairs, instructing his men in their Military postures, and showing them both how to receive and avoid the shock of the Enemy. But upon the coming of William he committed his charge to the managing of Ensign, (for Ralph upon some necessary occasions was then absent from his company) and kindly entertained his old companion, being as familiar with him, as when they used to sit cross legged on the Shopboard together; for he was free from that haughty pride which now adays possesses some of our upstart Gallants, who being raised from a low, though but to an ordinary fortune, forget not only their old acquaintance, but also themselves.  
After some repast, William acquainted him with the passages betwixt himself and Arabella, yet pretending that what he●●d, was only in revenge of the denial she had given to Sir John, & not out of any hat●ed to Ralph, although (said he) she cast him off: (for ●oth He and Sir John were still ignorant of their reconcilements) and therefore (said he) I desire that Ralph should not know thereof. But w●●●ies they were thus ●●ccursing, Ralph came in, who seeing William, and remembering how by his means that from of dissension had been raised betwixt him and Arabella, the fire of revenge straight sparkled out of his eyes and drawing his sword, false man said he, now shall thy life pay for thy treachery, and there withal offered to strike at him, but Sir John-Hawkwood interposed betwixt them, and laying hold on Ralph, commanded him to put up his s●ord, or else (said he) you will force me to draw mine,; what is this your valour to strike an unarmed man? or is this your greatest courtesy to welcome an old campanion? Noble Captain said Ralph, if you knew the falsehood that was lodged in that breast, you would think his life too small a recompense to expiate his faults; but (said Sir Hohn) passion is no competent judge of men's actions, and to build your knowledge upon hearsay cannot be good, since misreport hath wronged many; defer your guar●el therefore till you are fuller satisfied of the grounds of it, and if William hath done you wrong, no doubt but he will acknowledge it, and given you satisfaction.  
Ralph herewith as half persuaded, but principally because he could not do otherwise, in the presence of his Captain put up his sworn, reserving his revenge tell another season, and so without speaking any more words he went his way; Sir John Hawkwood perceiveing that Ralph's malice was implacable, persuaded William to list himself under some other Captain, till such time as he had gotten some experience, when he would not be wanting to use his best endeavour to give him preferment; William according to his directions went and listed himself under that renowned Champion Edward the black Prince, where in a short space through his industry, and Sir John Hawkwoods' good word, (who loved him entirely) he attained to an Ensigned place. This vexed Ralph to see his Rival advanced, for where envy is harboured in the breast of a man, he takes another's good to be his hurt, and now his only study was revenge, but wanting other means to effect it, he sent him a challenge in these words.  
If thy heart be as good to fight as it hath been to invent mischief, then meet me to morrow morning at thy own appointed place and weapon, where I shall attend ye, to revenge those injuries and affronts offered unto me, and to the fair Arabella, which if thou shalt refuse to perform, I shall proclaim thee a Coward, and not fit to bear Arms, or to usurp the name of a Soldier.  
Ralph  
William having received the challenge, was very much discontented, for though he was of an invincible courage, not dreading any danger, yet being conscious to himself of the injury he had offered to Ralph, he could willingly have wished the challenge might have been waved; yet being loath to undergo the aspersion of a Coward, he resolved what ever happened to undertake it, and thereupon returned him this answer.  
Lieutenant Ralph.  
What passion moves you to these extreme I know not, but seeing you will needs be so fool hardy as to venture a Duel upon it, your challenge shall be answered, and since you have put it to me for the choice of the place and weapon, I shall appoint the field on the North side of the Camp for the one, and backsword for the other; so till I see you farewel.  
William.  
The next morning accer●ing to appointment they met, with a full resolution the sword should end all difference betwixt them; but Sir John Hawkword having some inkling of the business, was in the field as soon as either of them, where seeing them come fully resolved to fight, he spoke unto them in this manner.  
What desperate folly, or madness rather, hath thus bewitched you; as I am not of your counsel, so I wish it had never come to my knowledge; If your stock of valour be so surpassing great, bestow it upon the common enemy, and let it not be employed to private disadvantage; there you may fight your belly full with honour, whereas here he that gains the victory purchases only disgrace and danger; what is your feud so deadly that nothing can wash it away but blood? or is your malice so irreconcilable, that the breaches may not be made up again? is life of so little worth to throw it away thus idly; and do you set so sleight a price of your souls, as to hazard them thus for a thing of nothing? what, is there no other remedy but that one of you must die, and can death only make expiation? I you can no better command your own passions then thus, you will never be fit to command others.   

CHAP. VII.  
The valiant Acts of Sir John Hawkwood in Italy and how he married with the Daughter of Duke Barnaby.  
THe renowned Merchant Taylor Sir John Hawkwood, having now completed his army, consisting of sir thousand Horse and Foot, took his march towards Italy, making great spoil all the way he went in the East hearts of the Kingdom of France, his name carrying such a terror before it, as struck dead the hearts of all opposers, coming into Italy he joined himself with the Marquis of Mountferrat, under whom he ●ectormed such noble services, as equalled if not exceeded that of the Ancient Romans, he having an exceeding ripe and quick conceit, to force occasions, to frame his resolutions, and to make speedy execution, being also as occasion required, both hot in his fights, and notable for his delays, so that he soon grew to be the wonder and admiration of all that Nation for martial Discipline.  
Soon after Lionel Duke of Clarence, son to Edward the third King of England, came into Italy to marry the Lady Violent●, Daughter to Galeasins Lord of Milan, Sir John Hawkwood hearing thereof, resolved to make one in that royal solemnity, and thereupon forsook the Marquis, and attended the Duke to his marriage.  
At which time Barnaby the brother of Galeasius had great wars with the State of Mantua, who having heard of the noble acts of Sir John Hawkwood, humbly desired his assistance, for he being himself a warlike Prince, had a great desire to make some trial of the discipline & prowess of the Englishmen. Sir John accepted of his proffer, & in a short time gave such proofs of his manhood & valour, as made Duke Barnaby highly to admire him, defeating his Enemies in several skirmishes, so that those who before were almost Conquerors now became humble suppliants, and them who ere while stood on high demand, now come to as lowly terms.  
Duke Barnaby having now found by experience, that Fame was sar short in the praises of the noble Hawkwood, he grew into such a liking of him, and that liking producing such love, that he greatly desired to have him his son in law, and thereupon bestowed on him in marriage his daughter Domnia, a Lady of a most transcendent beauty, and whose wit and eloquence ran parallel with her beauty, one in whom he found such ●acts as he l●st in his Arabella, who could not choose but beleved, being an lovely, one of such a rare fortune and composition, that had the Trojan Paris seen her naked, he would have strighted his Hallen of Grece for her.  
This alliance bring made in respect of his valour in war, was the occasion of the increase both of his pay, and of the renown of the Englishmen throughout all Italy: that a most pulssant Prince in war●●, had not without sufficient cause to induce him, conceived so good opinion of the valour of a man that was a stranger; and for this cause his hel● was desired by all the Princes and free Cities of Italy. For at that time all marital affairs amongst the, Italians were managed by foreign forces and Captains.  
But Prince Barnaby growing ungrateful for those many benefits received by the English men, the noble Hawkwood (notwithstanding their alliance) revolted from him, and joined with their Enemies, giving thereby a shrewd turn of the scale to the other side; taking by force the strong Towns of Fuera and Banacanalo, with many other places of importance, all which he sold and disposed of at his pleasure; William under him acting his part so well, that he was promoted from a Captain of frot to a Colonel of Horse; and now new adventures pre●enting themselves to their hands, they went to aid Pope Gregory, recovering for him many Cities and places of importance, with were revolted from his obedience: afterwards he aided the Florentiques against the Pisans, doing such noble feats of arme●, that the ver● dread of his name was enough to make his Enemies ●un, all Princes courtted his friendship he having as it were chained the Goddess Victoria to his side wheresoever he came: those who loved not his person maligned his perfections, for virtue is always attended on by envy, yet was he of such an affable carriage that he won both love and respect together: thus seated on the top of Fortune's wheel●, we will leave him for a while to speak of William's Return into England, and how he was entertained by his dea●est Dorothy.   

CHAP. VIII.  
William's return into England, his proof of Dorothies' constancy and how they were married together.  
THe renowned William having thus in Italy by his extraordinary valour, purchased to himself an honourable Character, being reputed (next to Sir John Hawkwood) the most experienced Commander of that age. He having now been absent from England the space of seven years, and remembering the promise he had made unto Dorothy, which was to return in a little space; knowing how far he had deviated from that his promise, he therefore resolved with all expedition to return into England, and there withal acquainted Sir John Hawkwood with his determination; who was vary loath to part with his company, being a person of an exquisite carriage and approved valour and therefore to dissuade him from his purpose he used these expressions.  
William you are now mounting on the Theatre of Honour, & have already gained an indifferent good blast in the Trumpet of Fame, but what should make you now have off running, when you have almost attained to the Goal? what shall deter you now from the pursuit of that which hitherto you have been so forward in? what strange resolution hath thus on a sudden alltered your determination? what are you resolved to throw off the Name of a Soldier, and to take up that of a Lover; to abandon the Camp of Mars, and to follow the Court of Cupid: to put off your steely Cors●, and to put on a silken Robe: & will you thus bury your ●orme▪, ●ur, to lie in a Lady's lap: who ha●e the tears of ●reckadiles, and the songs of Syren● to enchant men from the pursuit of honourable Achievements: remember yourself then William, and slain not the reputation of the noble society of Merchant Tailors, whose fame or deeds of Arms hath hitherto remained unblemished.  
But no persuasions 〈…〉 the resolutions of William, who thought every minute 〈…〉 he had enjoy a si●ht of his beloved Dorothy, and the 〈…〉 of Sir John Hawkwood, he emb●r● 〈◊〉 England, 〈…〉 banks he had not beheld in man 〈…〉 by Neptune and Aeolus, having a ●air wind and 〈…〉, he in short time arrived at London, the happ● Port 〈…〉 his wishes were directed.  
Being come on Land, he resolved not to discover himself at the first instant to his beloved Dorothy, which he might well canceal, his commenance by the length of time, end difference of Climate, being much altered, He therefore went to a Tavern ha●d by, from whence he informed her by a messenger, that a Gentleman from a friend of hers in Italy, would gladly speak with her. Dorothy at the hearing of the news was much overjoyed, and promised the Messenger to be with him presently, which she accordingly performed, and entering the chamber where he was, being almost persuaded, yet not fully confident it was her dearest William, she began with kind words to bid him welcome home: but William. with a counterfeit speech giving her to understand that she was mistaken, spoke to her in this manner  
I do not wonder (dear Mistress) that you are so mistaken, since many times before the like hath happened, even by those who knew us both very well, the most percingest eye hardly discerning any difference betwixt us, either in height, phisyogmony, colour of the hair or other outward part: long time were we acquainted together, our intimacy producing strong affection betwixt us; whether it were that likeness were the cause of Love, or what other motive caused the same I cannot tell: but so it was that in weal or woe, prosperity or adversity, nothing could separate us; many times would he discourse to me of the love and affection passed betwixt ye, and of the solemn engagement he made to you for his quick return, blaming himself for not performing his promise, and resolving upon the first opportunity, when he had in some measure set his affairs in order to return unto you, which no doubt he had performed, had not Death by a cross accident cut him off in his determination, which happened in this manner.  
The Duke of Milan had proclaimed a solemn Justs to be holden in the honour of his birth day, to which resorted many Knights and gallant commanders of great renown and valour, to exercise their skill in seats of Arms, in honour of their Mistresses; at the time appointed none was more forward in those laudable encounters then your true and faithful Lover William, whose turn being to Just with an Italian Knight named Lopenzo, at the third encounter a splinter of the Knights Launce chanced to run into William's Helmet, and pierced his eyesight; so that feeling himself mortally wounded, he desired to be carried to some place near at hand, where he might in quiet breath his last, which friendly courtesy I and some others performed for him; and now feeling the near approach of death, because of the great love and familiarity betwixt us, and of the near likeness of one person, he earnestly desired and persuaded me to think of no otherwise but you, as the only maid in the world worthy to be beloved, for your noble constancy and high deserts, which whosoever shall not love, shows himself to be a hater of virtue; and therefore by that former affection betwixt you, desiring, and by the Authority of love commanding you, that the love you bore to him, you should turn to me; assuring you that nothing could please his soul more than to see you and I matched together, wherefore according to his desire jam come (with faithful love built upon your deserts) to offer myself, and to beseech you to take the offer.  
Here he made a stop to hear what Dorothy would say, who first making most hearty sighs, (doing such obsequies as she could to her supposed dead friend William) thus answered him.  
Sir for the great love you showed to my dear Friend, I give you many thanks, but this great matter you propose unto me, wherein I am not so blind as not to see what happiness it should be unto me in the enjoyment of so accomplished a person: know Sir, if my heart were mine ●o give, you before all other should have it, but Williams it is, though dead; their I begun, their lend all matter of affection, I hope I shall not long tarry after him, with whose outward person had I only been in love with I should be so with you, having the same outward parts: but it was William self I loved, and love which no likeness can make one, no commandment dissolve, nor no death finish. And shall I then (said he) receive such disgrace as to be refused. Sir said she let not that word be used, who know your worth far beyond my merits, but it is only happiness I refuse, since of the only happiness I could or can desire, I am refused.  
Scarce had she spoken out these words, when not willing to hold her in griefs bonds any longer, but with his discovery to convert her sorrowful moans to smiling joy, he ran to her, and embracing her, why then my dearest Dorothy, (said he) take and enjoy thy William, scarce could she at first believe him the truth, such strong impressions had the former story taken in her heart, but at last being throughly convinced, her joy so exceeded the bounds of reason that she could not speak one word; but was constrained through her new conceived pleasure to breathe a sad sigh or two into her Lover's bosom, who as courteously entertained her with loving kisses; whe●e after these two Lovers had fully discoursed to each other the secrets of their souls, how Dorothy for his love had continued unmarried, notwithstanding the importunity of many and rich suitors; as also William of the dangers he had run through in his long peregrination, having refreshed their spiri●s with a glass of wine, they hand in hand went to her Masters, but the news was no sooner spread about the Town that William was come, but the Bells rung, and bonestres abounded, the journeymen Tailors left all their seats to welcome him home, and the Promises refused to work that day; Ralph notwithstanding the great feud formerly betwixt them, with his beloved Arabella. came to give him a visit, all the whole talk of the City being only of William and his deserved praises. His Master and Mistress the next day made a great feast, to which was invited most of the worshipful society of Merchant-Taylors, and other wealthy Citizens, and not long after William and Dorothy were married, at whose wedding were most costly shows and triumphs, all which I pass over, and return to speak of Sir John Hawkwood, whole noble a●eheivements now calls my Pen to wake upon him.   

CHAP. IX.  
Amurath Prince of Fez seeks to get the Princess Mariana by treachery, they are shipwrackt at Sea, Amurath is killed whereupon ensueth war betwixt the Emperor of Fez, and Ferdinando King of Cilicia.  
THe noble and adventurous Merchant-Taylor Sir John Hawkwood having by his skill in arms and fortunate success (as you have heard) grown to such renown that his name was famous throughout an Christendom, yet still thi● stead after glories prise, and to add to what he had already done; esteeming his past victories which he had won in those parts of the world as nothing, unless he also made his name redoubted by some famous exploit against the enemies of Christ, and that he might bathe his sword in the Pagans blood, and long was it not ere Fortune put a golden opportunity into his hands, to perform the same, which thus happened.  
In the famous Country of Cilicia, a place much beholding to Nature for the extraordinary bounties she had bestowed upon it, there lived a King named Ferdinando who was a Prince endowed with many noble and virtuous customs; that had only one Daughter named Mariana, a Princess of a curious make, in whom Nature and education strove who should add most to complete her the wonder of that age, This her beauty and superexcellent endowments being blazed abroad, invited many of the Neighbouring Princes to sue for her in marriage, but none more forward, nor deserved better than Arnaldo, Son to the King of Candy, so that her Father Ferdinando began to listen unto his suit, and knowing his Daughter's affections chiefly placed on him, glad that the had made so good a choice, he so forwarded the same, that the day was appointed for the celebration of the Nuptials, to the great content of the two young Princes, who now hoped to enjoy the fruits of their love.  
Great were the preparations made for this royal wedding, not only for variety of cheer, but also for curious & costly Pageants, which were devised after the ●arest manner, but all this great preparation came to 〈◊〉, their 〈◊〉 was 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉 their songs to sighs, and their mirth to m●uring, and h●●●ppon 〈…〉 followeth.  
Amongst o●her 〈◊〉 where F●m● had blazed abroad the p●r●ections of Mariana 〈…〉 Fez, whose only Son Amurath (a 〈◊〉 of a vitioas 〈…〉 her a prize worthy the looking after, and therefore (having obtained leave of his Father) he provided a fleet of Ships, for the bringing her home to Fez, having in conceit already obtained her good will, 〈…〉 if he falled, he resolved to make up his Market by force; to the 〈◊〉 resolution he arrives in Cilicia, haping for the greatness of his b●th to be rather sued unto, to accept of Mariana, then that he himself should become a Suitor unto her, but greatness without desert finds no place where goodness sits enthronized, for he having made known his love ●uit to the Princess Mariana, received from her a flat denial; which so exasperated his spi●ics, that now he breathes forth nothing but revenge, and long was it not ere he found an opportunity to put his malice in execution, for having by his espials learned that the two Lovers, every evening all the shutting up of Titan● golden Gates, used to walk abroad to take the comfort of the Western breathing air, he with a party of his followers suddenly surprised them, and carried them prisoners to his ship, where being deaf to all entreaties, he hoist sails, and with as much expedition as could be made, sailed towards the Country of Fez, but the Heavens being angry at such wicked attempts, sent forth such a violent tempest on the sea, as made the stoutest spirit of them all to tremble. For the second day after their departure, rose as it were a foggy mist from out the seas, when on a sudden the clearness of the skies might not be seen for the darkness of the air, dreadful flashes of lightning seemed to have set the seas-on fire, and terrible volleys of thunder threatened the shaking of the Heavens, and sundering of the earth; showers of rain poured down as if there had been a general inundation, and the winds roared so boisterously from each corner, as if Boreas, Auster, Zephyrus and Eurus had been at odds among themselves, or joined together for the destruction of their vessel; now were they at their wit's end, neither seeing for the dark, nor hearing for the noise, how any thing should be amended, and yet was every thing amiss; one while their ship was so high they scarcely can discern the hollow waves from aloft, another while they sink so low, they hardly can descry the to●s of over péering billows from beneath: and though it were midday by the course of time, yet seemed it midnight by occasion of the storm. Now knew they not what to do, and yet was every one doing something: one plyeth the pump, until for weariness he fainieth, another layeth out wa●e●, until for weakness he falleth: some pour forth their prayers, others impationtly torment their own bodies, and some vow ●weet incense and obla●ions to the Gods; this man (in vain) repaireth the ●racking tackle, and another at adventure renteth down the falls; here standeth one fast clinging to a loose board, there another clean stripped to abide his chance, every one disorderly doing that thing whereunto the extremity of his passion did presently direct him In the mean time the two Lovers who ex●pected nothing but to be devoured 〈◊〉 that merciless element, fervently committed their souls unto God, being as willing to descend into Neptune's briner habitation, as to go along with that Mahometan Prince, from whom they expected not the least favour. Amurath himself who though hardened in villainy, yet seeing the inevitable danger he was in, began to shake with fear, and to repent of his treachery against the two Princes, all persons thus surrounded with despair, nothing was expected but to have the Sea their grave, and to be devoured by the inhabitants of that marry element. In this tempestous condition w● will leave them for a while, and return to the Court of King Ferdinando, which upon the news of the Princess' surprisal, was stricken into a sudden astonishment, the King mourned, and the Nobles. held down their heads: the Ladies lamented, and the Commons sighed: ●●; stead of music and songs of triumph, nothing was now heard but groans and la●enta 〈◊〉. Oye inhabiters of the Celestial Mansions said the sorrowful King Ferdinando, why do ye suffer such impieties to be done? O why did I live to see this day, that the greatest comfort of my grey hairs, should become the chiefest object of my miseries? O restore to me my Mariana again, or take from me this poor remainder of my life, which without her company will be but irksome and tedious unto me. In this manner complained the woeful King, making the stones relent at his dolorous complaints; but Fortune that is constant in nothing but inconstancy, soon ceased his complaints, turned his mourning into melody, and his weeping and tears, into joy and ●aughter.  
For about four day's a●●e, the lost couple were again heard of, being by shipwreck 〈◊〉 upon the Cilician coast: for the Heavens ●eing angry with Amurath's design, maugre what the Sailor's cou●d do, brought the Sip back again, and being by the force of the wind driven upon a rock near the ●●ore, the Sip split in a thousand pieces, in this sudden exigency every one said h●ld something which might be conducible to the saving of their ●ves: here was one fast clinging to the mast, whose lofty height layno●● vel with the waves, there was another fast grasping an empty chest which with ut Oars or Pilot did by degrees 〈…〉 the shore, there another embracing a plank, making that his Asyllum in so eminent danger, others whose skill in swimming made them more adventurous, committed themselves to the mercy of the Sea, being tossed on the waves like fortune's tennis hall, till at last those waves ●osse● them safe to land. The Prince Arnaldo whom no peril whatsoever could separate from his dear Mariana, desiring to l●ve only for her sake, and yet to live without her would be worse than death unto him seeing himself surrounded by danger on every side, he began hastily to provide for his and the Prince●es safety, and the Gods being careful of their preseservation, they happened upon a part of the side of the 〈◊〉, so long and large that they had room to sit thereon, and expect the evert what Destiny had determined to do with them. Whilst thus on the Ark of providence they wee wafting towards the shore, they espied Prince Amurath a stride on a price of abroken m●st, labouring with his hands to preserve himself from drowning, for hough being conscious of his guilt he expected to receive unwelcome entertainment wheresover he should land, yet the sight of death was so terrible to him, that he resolved to prolong his life as long as he could. The Prince Arnaldo though secing him in this forlorn condition, yet could not forbear to speak thus unto him. Perfidious man (said he) now is thy treachery recompensed upon thy own head, though therewith thou mayst glory of our ruin, which yet can be but small comfort to th●e, when thou shalt carry such a load of guilt with thee to the other world. But ●cearcely had he uttered th●●e words, when a billow parted them, from hearing each other, by this time some of the Sa●lors had swum to the land and informed the Cilicians in what 〈◊〉 the Princes were in, who thereupon maned some boats out, and taking the despairing Lovers into them, they happily landed to their unspeable comfort, soon after actived Prince Amurath mounted in state on his wooden horse, but when the Cilicians understood it was he by 〈◊〉 treachery their Princess was carried away, like the en●aged Grecian dames when they fell upon the sweet tongued Poet Orpheus, so did these peope fall upon him; and notwithstanding Arnaldo did what he ●oul● to persuade them to the contrary, as being willing to have reserved him to a farther examination, yet were his endeavers therein, but like to his who goeth about to stop the Carrent of a stream when a●it once overflows its banks; no prayers nor entreaties could stop their fury, never ceaseing till such time that one had gotten an arm of him, another a 〈◊〉, and another some other kind of limb, all which they vapouring showed about as the remarkable Trophies of their victory, ●ay so bach●rous was their cruelty, that with their staves they never left belabou●ing the remaining part of his dismembered trunk, so long as they could perceive the least life or mot●on in it.  
The news of this Shipwreck and the Prince's safety ●ame which a speedy fleight to the ears of King Ferdinando, which struck him into such an ecstasy of joy as could scarcely be contained in the bounds of reason, although it something displeased him that Prince Amurath was murdered in that manner; but his Daughters' safety would not suffer any grief to enter into the Crannies of his heart, when joy had taken fall possession thereof?. But much he longed to have his eyes confirmed with the truth of the news his ears hard, and therefore taking horse, with some few of his Nobles, he suddenly posted down to the Seaside; but to express the joy at the meeting of the King & the two Princes, is beyond the skill of my pen to declare, being a subject fit only for imagination, all words whatsoever wanting weight wherewith to express it; let it suffice to tell ye, that after some short stay and congratulation on both sides for this happy meeting, they returned again to the City of Adrianople, the place where King Ferdinando kept his Court, from whence the King speedily dispatcheth a Messenger to the Emperor of Fez, to excuse himself for the death of Prince Amurath, And now are great preparations made again for the wedding, the King intending to have it solemnised in a more sumptuous manner than was before intended; but Fortune once again crossed his designs, and turned his Scene of mirth into mourning, as we shall declare unto you.   

CHAP. X.  
The terrible Battle betwixt Sir John Hawkwood. and the Emperor of Fez, which lasted three whole days, the marriage betwixt Arnaldo and the Princess Mariana.  
THe Army of the Cilicians being overthrown by the Emperor of Fez, and King Ferdinando himself straitlily besieged in the City of Adrianople, as you heard in the former Chapter? brings not able to hold out long against those mighty Forces of the mahometans, he therefore (as we told ye) dispatched a Messenger to Sir John Hawkwood, destreing his assistance, in these words.  
To the most renowned, and invincible Sir John Hawkwood.  
Fame's golden Trumpet having proclaimed your matchless deads' to this our Country, as the only succourer of distressed Princes, the righter of wrongs, and ovetthrower of unjust oppression; this noble Character of your worth hath invited me to desire your aid against the Emperor of Fez, who hath unjustly invaded my Country with barbarous cruelty, killing and destroying all wheresoever he comes, threatening to extirpate the very name of Christianity out of my land, defer not therefore with all speed to hasten to my relief, whereby you shall not only win eternal renown, but also shall receive in reward of such high deservings, whatsoever you will desire, even to the half of my kingdom.  
K. Ferdinando.  
No sooner had Sir John Hawkwood received this Letter, but pricked on with desire of honour in so just a quarrel, he assembled all his Forces together, being about twenty thousand brave English spirits, each of such skill as able to command an Army; to whom he made this following Oration.  
Kind Soldiers, and fellow Country men, my comparions in Arms, and sharers with me in all dangers, and sucesses; who by your valiant acts have eternised your names, and made your fame to sound as far as Phoebus' darts forth his golden rays, to you I speak who have been so often triumphant as if victory were chained to your swords, and good fuccess hereditary to ye, whose hearts are so invincible as have found no Enemy unconquerable, no Fort uns●aleable, no Way unpassable; who know not what it into be conquered, nor to turn your back to the face of an Enemy. Now doth honour once more summon you to the exercise of your Arms in rescuing a Christian King from the fury of the bloody followers of Makomee. who is ready to be delivered into their hands, if nor timely relieved by your unconquerable manhood; the King of Cilicia craves our assistance against the Mahaumetan Emperor of Fez, who hath burnt his Towns, razed his Cities, and slain his subjects; what though his men be many the greater shall be the honour in conquering them, remember it is I that lead ye, who will never leave ye, but either bring ye off with fortunate success, or ●oose my life in the encounter.  
This his Oration wrought such effects in his souliers, that they all vowed to live and die with him, and to follow him wheresoever he commanded them, whereupon returning the Messenger back again to King Ferdinando, that he would not fall to be with him as soon as possibly he could, he made all things ready for his Journey, and by speedy marches soon came to the confines of Cilicia, whether no sooner being come, but he sent King Ferdinando special notice thereof, encouraging him to a resclute defiance of those Barbarous 〈◊〉, and promising to give him a speedy supply of 〈…〉 ●spatcheth a Message to the Emperor, the 〈◊〉 whereof was as followeth.  
That he desired him to desist from ●●ther prosecution of any outrage against the Cilicians, and to restore again to King Ferdinando those Places and Persons which he had taken, and then presently to depart the Land or to expect what a just cause and a sharp sword could do against him. But so little wrought this message on the insulting foe, that he laughed both it and the messenger to scorn, ask him if his Master were well in his wits, and whether be had not need of a purge of Hellebore, to think with his small handful of men, to command the most puissant Monarch of the whole earth? but if be would be so fool: hardy as to offer to fight with him, he should be encountered with a part of his Army, whilst the rest should stand still, and look on to beheld his overthrow.  
These words of the Emperor being told in the English Camp, so exasperated the soldiers, that they breathedforth nothing but blood and revenge; if likewise set an edge on their General's valour, to be thus disdainfully braved, although he covered it with more moderateness than the rash soldiers, who would incontinently have marched against him, but the noble Hawkwood, though he knew the conrage of his soldiers to be invincible, yet would not rashly engage them in that fight, on the success whereof depended either the gaining of a King, or the irreparable loss of the whole Kingdom; he therefore smothered his resolutions for the present, till time should give him a fitter opportunity to declare them, in the mean time be made provision against that fatal day, not only refreshing his soldiers, & supplying his Ammunition, but alto fortifying places that might be a safe retreat unto him if his army should be over poured by the Emperor's more numerous forces  
Having thus provided all things ready, he marcheth with his Army against the Enemy, who notwithstanding all his brags, raiseth his siege, to oppose him with his whole Army; whereupon King Ferdinando came out of the City, and with his small remainder of soldiers joined with the English, the noble and adventurous Merchant Taylor Sir John Hawkwood entertained him very courteously, but now was no such time for compliment as action, both Armies being near to each other, therefore riding unto the head of his Camy, he spoke to them in these encouraging specehes.  
Brave sons of Mars, whose valour the world admires and dreads, now is the time come which ye so heartily desired, to avenge yourselves on this miscreant Emperor for those contumelious speeches he uttered against us, and to make him know the difference betwixt saying and doing. Now must be tried which will cut deepest of the Christians swords, or the Saracens cymiters, I need not to tell ye the justness of our cause, and that victory is the attendant on valour, those are only spurs to prick forward the du ay, and to sharpen the edge of the coward's courage, I know it is enough for you only to be shown the face of your Foe, which being once done all words whatsoever is rather impediments to ye then helps.  
Nor was the Emperor wanting on the other side to the encouraging of his soudiers, who ●iding up to the head of his Army, spoke to them in these words.  
This is the day renowned Captains and valiant soldiers, that by your manhood must put a period to this war, & take a full revenge for the loss of my son Amurath's, ye have now only this handful of men to conquer, whose desperate condition hath enforced them to adventure their whole fortunes at one blow and like a dying candle to give one blaze more of valour before their extinguishment; their running looks do promise us an assured victory, and an addition of honour to your unconquerable arms, march on therefore as to a surprise rather than fight, and let not one of them escape, but feel the fury of your revengeful swords.  
The Empero●rsceing so many of his soldiers to have fallen that day by the hards of the Christians, would in revenge thereof, that night have paut Arnaldo to death, whom he had left behind in his Tent under a strong guard; but his Captaias' doubting the success of the Battle and fearing a ret●●tation persauded him to the contrary, Next morning no sooner had Aurora wherso in the day, but both Armies were again dra●● 〈◊〉 the field, and the signal being given, fell on again a fresh to their work of mankind's destruction: the thundering drums beat ala● ums of death, & the shrill Trumpets sounded forth many thousands that day their knel, horror, death & destruction surrounded the mahometans on every sid; yet still their fresh number made more work for the Christians valour. The noble Hawkwood whom no danger whatsoever could daunt or make afraid, being mounted on a milk whilte Barbary stred, nimbly pranced amongst his Troops, encourging the valiant, and checking the slow: and then charging into the thickest ranks of his Enemies, taught his soldiers by his example the way how to conquer. The Emperor on the other side did all that he could to uphold his soldiers fainting courages, using threatenings and commendations according as he saw occasion, so that the fight continued sharp on both sides till night again parted their fury, when they both retreated, the one into the City, and the other to his Camp.  
Yet not withstanding this great effusion of blood, the next morning ere Phoebus appeared in that Horrizon, they fell to it again as fresh as it they intended before they had done to glut the jaws of death. But Sir John Hawkwood intending to make short work of it, pressed so hard upon that side where the Emperor was in person, that at length he took him prisoner. Then might you behold a sudden change in his army some running this way, some that, and others therowing down their arms and craving mercy, King Ferdinando who had behaved himself very gallantly ●uring all the fight, now seeing the victory apparently on their sid; 〈◊〉 down on his knees in the place where he stood, giving thanks to Almighty God for the same; then enquiring of the prisor●rs sor the Prince Arnaldo, and having received intelligence from them he speedily hastea●th unto him; great was the joy received at the sight of each other, as those whose desperate conditions had given themselves over for lost, great Sir said the Prince, that my eyes do behold you again in safety, how infinitely am I hound unto the Gods: and as you have made my eyes happy thereby, so let my ears be blest with the news of the Princess Mariana's s●aety, the King briefly certyfying him that she was well, as also giving him a short narrative of the present affairs, they loath hasted to congratulate atula●●e with Sir John Hawkwood, who was very busy in entertaining of his royal prisoner, whom he used so courteously, and with such respect, that the Emperor could n●t but confess that he had met with a noble Enemy.  
The Prince Arnaldo had no s●oner fixed his eyes on Sir John Hawkwood, but he thou●▪ he saw in him the v●r●●icture of true magnanimity, so that he though: himself happy by a●guainted prisoner, thereby to become 〈◊〉 with so renowned a Champion, and prized his liberty at a far higher rate for being effected by so gallant a person. Dear Sir (said be) to whom I owe whatsoever I am at present, be pleased to accept of this mite of acknowledgement, till such time as Fortune shol● enable me to make you more ample satisfaction. Renowned Prince (replied the generons Hawkwood) to whom all service is but duty, and for whom whatsoever is affected comes far short of your deserts; I must only attribute it to your goodness, to put such high acknowledgements upon my low perform ances, but rest assured whatsoever I am is wholly and soley at your command.  
A●er ●ome ●their stort discourse passed betwixt the King and the Emperor, the world's bright eye Hyperion beginning now to draw towards his Western home, they prepared to return to the City of Adrianople, the soldiers laden with spoils, and thronged with prisoners, was met by the women and children of the City, (for there was scearce a man lest therein who was not either killed in the former battle, or now under service with King Ferdinando) with songs of Triamph, and other like rejoicings: the way where Sir John Hawkwood passed was strewed with roses and green herbs, every one extolling his Fame to the skies, as the most renowned Hero of that Age.  
The Princess Mariana, who during these three days had been at her supplications for the prosperous success of the Christians army refusing to eat one bit of bread all that time; receiving now the 〈◊〉 tidings of the Emperor's overthrow, and the Princ. Arnaldo's releasement, she was so far transported with anever measure of joy, as for the present bereft her of the use of reason; for regardless of what attire she was in, and forgetting to refresh her body, which was now enfeebled for want of sustenance, net staying for a coach or other attendants, she hastily ran with the foremost to meet them. The Prince Arnaldo who thought each minute a year till he hap a sight of his divinest Mistress, now seeing her coming, alighted from his horse, and as hastily ran for to embrace her; both pa●ties remaining speechless for a time, being so overjoyed at each others sight, that their tongues wanted utterance to express it: but after some little time of pause, Arnaldo break silence, and thus speak to her.  
I think myself happy most excellent Princes, that the Fates have so far prolonged my life, as once again to behold those Love-darting eyes of thine, and to enjoy again your most delightful Company, the deprivation whereof, was the greatest torment the Emperor could inflict upon me; without which, the most habitable place is but a desert, and all pleasure but vexation, and now what can I say more, but to desire that Hymen's torch may burn clear at our wedding, and that the Sun of our happiness may not come to be Eclipsed again, by any disastruous accident whatsoever.  
Renowned Prince, replied the love sick Mariana, that the Fates have restored us thus again to each other, how much are we bound to Providence and next to that the renowned English General, of whose worth to speak, were to show the light of the, Sun by a candle, Now I hope will a serene sky of comfort succeed those clouds of trouble, and our joy be the greater, and more refined, for having passed through these fires of grief and tribulation.  
And now the time of the day gave them notice to prepare them ready to go to Church; the Bridegroom was led by tro Earls daughters, being apparaled in a suit of flame coloured Tassaty, to signify that he burned in the flames of Love, the Princess Mariana was conductor by the famous Sir John Hawkwood on the one hand, and a Duke or Candy on the other; her apparel was a rich Gown of sky-sclo●r ●abble, to signify that her mince was as free from vice, as a clear sky is from clouds, The Priest having joined them together in Hymen's band●, they returned again to the Palace, where was provided for them a most sumptuous dinner, wherein no cest nor art was spared, to set it forth in the best manner. The afternoon was spent in Music and dancing. till such time as Morpheus summoned them to sleep.  
Next morning the Tournament began, a fair large place being railed in for that purpose, wherein a stage was setup for the King and the Lords to behold the same, the first that entered the list was Sir John Hawkwood, mounted on a coal black stee●, his armour of the same colour, denoting thereby a black day to all those that durst 〈◊〉 him; he behaved himself with so much gallantry thathe foiled that day above threescore Knights, to his high honour and commendations. The next day his Lieutenant General (being also a Merchant Taylor) entered the lists, mounted on a Bay horse, his armour was red, having upon his Burgonet a plume of ●ed seathers: he likewise behaved himself with so much valour and manhood, that he overcame above fifty Knights that day. On the third day ●an many approved Knights against each other, wherein the English Officers behaved them ●●ives so gallantly, that they won the prize away from all others, The King in reward of such high deserts, conferred on many of them the honour of Knighthood, & made Sir J. Hawkwood one of the principal ●eers of his Kingdom, with a large annual stipend to maintain his stare and dignity. The Private soldiers felt likewise-largely of his ●ounty, so that every one commended the nobleness of King Ferdinando's mind, and thought their blood well spent where they sound such royal gratitude, all parties being thus well plea●ed, we will leave, them for time and return to discourse of Ralph and William, whom we left at their Trades in London.   

CHAP. XI.  
The number of servants, and noble House 〈◊〉 by Ralph, how he encounted with jurnbul the great Scotish Champion, and how he built Blackwel-hall, and give it to the City of London.  
YOu may remember the last time we speak of Ralph, we left him married so his Master's daughter, the fai● Arabella: since which time his Father in law bring, left him is whole estate, his customers also en●easing very much, he was forced to take more Pre●●●ces, and to entertain a number of journey men, by whom he was waited on to Church as a petty Prince, for he had fi●ty apprentices, and threescore and ten journeymen, so that he spent an Ox a week in his house, and a hogshead of beer everyday. His hosptallity was so great, that there was more meat given away each day at his door, than many ●ich people spend in their houses. He was likewise partner in divers ships at sea, which traded for Merchandise into several Country's, by which means in short space he attained to a very baste estate.  
It happened at that time that the King of Scotland invaded England in hostile manner, killing, burning, and destroying, all wheresoever he came. He brought with him a great Giant or Champion, called Turnbull, for that in his youth he had killed a fierce wild Bull, bred in the Forest of Caledonia, which had destroyed much people: the same of this Champion made call people wheresoever he came to run away for dread of him, for he was of such strength that he would encounter with ten men at once, and to his strength was added such a cruelness of nature, that he spared none which fell into his hands; by aid of whom the Scots made such havoc in the North parts of England as turned all places there into ruin and desolation.  
To repress these outrages King Edward desired aid of the City of London, where upon a Common Council was called, whereat Mr. Blackwel (for so was Ralph's surname) was present; where it was propounded to each man what he would do for service of the King. Mr. Blackwel, whose heart was as loyal as his purse was large, to show a fair copy for the others to write after, subscribed to go himself in p●rson, and to carry with him a full band, whom he would maintain at his own charge, this his generous subscription, drew on others to contribute largely▪ ●o that there was raised amongst them, enough to furnish a formidable Army.  
The necessities of the Kingdom's affairs requiring haste, Mr. Ralph Blackwell was no soever come home, but he told his journey men and prentisses what he had done, ask them if they would be willing to go along with him to which they alltea●ily condescended, each striving who should exoress himself most forward for the service: which heir willing mind he thankfully accepted of, promising if any of them were wounded or maimed in the service, they should be so carefully provided for after their return, as should give them no cause to repent of their undertake. Next he bought them Muskets, Pikes, Drums, and Colours, habiting them all in a like livery of whi●e, that they might be differenced from all others, choosing the most skilful of them to be Officers under him, as Lieutenant, Ensign Sergeants and Corporals etc. This done he drew them each day before their departure out into the fleld, to exercise them, and make them fit for the day of ba●tel.  
And now the time came that the King set forward with his A●my, when he found Captain Ralph ready & prepared to go along with him; his men so well disciplineed and accoutred, that the King gave him the title of the Noble Captain, his band had also given to it the name of the Royal Band, whom the King so much honoured, that he made them the second Company in his own Regiment; all things being thus ready, with a spredy march they hasted against the Scots who were than harazing with fire and sword in the Bishopric of Durham, to whom the King sent this following message.  
That he wondered his Brother of Scotland without any cause shown should so unjustly invade his kingdom; and exercise such cruelty upon the English, as would make Pagans blush to own such actions; that therefore he required satisfaction of him for all those injuries done, or he would right himself the best he could with his sword.  
To this the Scottish King returned answer, that the King of England has made war against the French King, his Ally and friend, and hath done him much mischief in his Country; that in revenge of those injuries, he had drawn his sword against the English, and was resolved not to sheathe it up again, till he had taken a full revenge on them, for those damages they had done to the French.  
The King having received this answer, f●aught with anger and 〈◊〉, marcheth up within fight of their Army, but the Scots had 〈◊〉 possessed themselves of so 〈…〉, that there was no 〈…〉 without eminent danger, 〈◊〉 the King caused his 〈…〉 deep 〈…〉 about them, to keep them from foraging, that for want of victuals, h● might at last compel them 〈…〉.  
Seven days together did the Army his face one another, when at last out comes a challenge from Sir ●urnbu● the Scotish Champion, which containe● these wer●s.  
Think not proud English that by our lying thus still, we are not able, or afraid to fight with you; no, this is bu● only to give you time 〈◊〉 your long march, to refresh yourselves, that when the time comes, you may be the better able to encounter with us, lest when you are beaten i● might be your excuse to say your Army was o●e wearied, but if in the mean space there be any one amongst you that dares to fight with me hand to hand, to show the Armies some little spor●, he shall find me ready to answer him to morrow morning by eight of the clock in the meadow, which lieth on the left side of our Camp, 〈◊〉 will attend his arrival with much zeal and impatiency.  
Turnbul.  
This Challenge being read in the English Army, the noble Captain 〈…〉 King that he might accept thereof, to which the King 〈…〉, whereupon by the same Messenger, he returned 〈…〉.  
I received your challenge which promises much in the contents, what ever will be performed in the Chapter, according to your 〈◊〉, you shall be answered at the time and place appointed; where if you perform with your sword what your pen hath promised, you 〈◊〉 add to your renown, if not you will only make mirth to the English▪ and become the Trophy of  
R. Blackwel.  
King Edward having obtained this considerable victory, as soon as the field was cleared, commanded Captain Blackwel to put a bassenet on his head, for he would Knight him, the Captain desired to be excused, saying he was neither worthy nor able to take such an estate upon him, b●t the King made him to put it on notwithstanding all excuses, and then with a sword in both his hands (as the manner than was) he strongly struck him on the neck, and so Knighted him, giving him a hundred pound lands a year for this noble atcheivement which he had accomplished.  
The victor thus obtained King Edward returned with honour and triumph to London, Sir Ralph Blackwel bringing along with him the Scotish Champion Sir Turnbul as his prisoner, whom the King out of especial favour had bestowed upon him, who was afterwards ransomed by the Scotish King for five hundred ma●ks of 〈◊〉. The Citizens' of London received them with great jo●, ●inging of bells, making of honesties, and other devices; such slocking about to beh●ld Sir Turnbul, whose same was spread in all parts, as was wonderful to behold.  
Sir Ralph was no sooner returned home, and that the King had dismissed him with communications and 〈◊〉, but he returned again as●esh to his trade, honours in him not 〈◊〉 manners, well knowing that tra●ing the great prop which uphold and supports a kingdom, 〈◊〉 makes the inhabitants thereof 〈…〉 thereof, for he increased in his 〈…〉 is that 〈…〉 of ours  
If thou wouldst thrive `th world and wealthy he,  
Keep thy shop ROBIN, and that will keep thee.  
Not long after 〈◊〉 was a great 〈…〉 hom●, called the Go●den Adventure, which had been five years' 〈◊〉 trading in the East Indies, and was very rich●● laden with divers commodities: I 〈…〉 Sir Ralph had 〈…〉 pa●t, which so advanced his esta●r, tha●●● was 〈◊〉 chosen to be Sheri●● of London, in which office he behaved himself very 〈◊〉, kept a noble house and executed Justice to al● men impartially, neither favouring the rich for th●i● mightiness, nor delaying the poor because of th●●●pove●ty, but to every one dealt with so eve a hand, that it grew to be a proverb, as good go to empty the Sea with a spoon as to persuade Sir Ralph from doing Justice, to give some instances of his 〈…〉, ma● not be 〈…〉 unpleasant to the Reads●. A rich covetous Churl had lost a bag of money containing one hundred pound, wherefore be caused it to be published by the Crier, that whosoever had found the same, and wou●d restore it, he should have ten pounds for his pains? It happened an honest poor man found it, who brought it to the Churl, requiring ten pound for his pains as was promised, but this covetous Carrion minding to deceive the poor man, deeply swore there was a hundred and ten pounds, wherefore he would not give him a 〈◊〉: thereupon the poor man had a Warrant for him and brought him before Sir Ralph Blackwel, where each of them having told his tale, Sir Ralph commanded the money to be produced, which being done, he said to the rich Churl, you lost a bag of money with an hundred and ten pounds in it, and this poor man found one which had only an hundred pounds therein, therefore by your own confession this is not lively to be the bag which you lost, therefore here honest man do thou take it, and employ it we ●l for the good of thy wife and children, and if thou finder a bag with an hundred and ten pounds therein then b●ing it to this 〈◊〉 in the mean time keep that 〈◊〉 dost. The rich Churl hearing him to decide the business so cried out that his bag had but an hundred pounds in it, and therefore desired that he might have it: but Sir Ralph told him it was then too late to speak, and so dismissed him without it.  
At another time it so happened that a Tylar being at work upon a house, chanced to slip his hold, and so tumbled down, but by great fortune to him, it was his hap to fall upon another man as he was walking by, whereby he killed the other man: the son of the dead man hereupon brings the Tylar before Sir Ralph Blackwel, desiring Justice against him for the death of his Father: the Tylar pleaded chance medley, and that he did not kill him either wittingly or willingly, but nothing would serve the young man but that the Tylar must be sent to prison, no persuasions could prevail, to talk to him of reason was to set a blind man to discern of colours, or a deaf man to judge of music; nothing could satisfy for the death of his father, but the life of the Tylar. Sir Ralph seeing his obstinacy, that reason could take no place in him, adjudged, that to make him satisfaction, the Tylar should stand in the same place where his father was killed, and the young man (if he would) might go up to the top of the house and tumble down upon him, but this the man refusing to do, the Tylar was discharged.  
He used to look very narrowly after the Bakers, that they should not make their bread too light causing one John of Stratford for making bread lesser than the Assize, to be drawn on a wooden horse which went with wheels, quite through the streets of the City, having a fools hood on his head and loaves of bread about his neck, many other examples of his Justice might be produced, too long here to re●i●e, we shall refer the Reader to the Chronicles of those times, which discourse much of his commendations.  
Sir Ralph having 〈◊〉 to see 〈◊〉 building finished, and put to the use for which he 〈…〉 not long after departed this 〈◊〉, having some few years before 〈…〉 Arabella, who had been to him a constant, faithful, and loving wife. 〈◊〉 great 〈◊〉 unto the poor, especially those of his own Company, as also several some● of money to bind poor children out apprentices. He was 〈…〉 great 〈◊〉 by the Company ● Merchant Tailors, whom he trust 〈◊〉 the Estate he le●t behind him, to be 〈…〉 aforesaid; who e●ected upon his Grave a most magnificent Monument, which time (the devourer of all things) hath since consumed, upon which was engraven this Epitaph, 
Here lies the honour of his trade and name,  
Brave Sir Ralph Blackwel, of deserved Fame;  
Whose acts proclaim`d his worth both near and far,  
And did renown his name in Peace and War.   
Where we will leave him resting in his Grave in peace, and return to speak of William, whom we left newly married to his Master's maid, the witty fair Mistress Dorothy.   

CHAP. XII.  
How William slew a dreadful 〈…〉 built 〈◊〉 Hospital, wherein he 〈…〉, and was after his Death Canonised for a Saint.  
Wiliam having entered into marriage 〈◊〉, begun to ●o side● 〈◊〉 himself that there was more belonged to w●d, than four 〈…〉 whereas before he wanted a wise, he 〈…〉 thing else, there was a Bed to 〈…〉 let, Blankets, C●●tains, Table clothes, ●a●kins, Chairs, Steel●s, 〈◊〉 Table, Brass, Pewter, Andirons. Fireshovel, 〈…〉, Spits, 〈…〉, Wash-boul, Hand-boul, ●ubs, Cupboard, Candlesticks, W●rmin-pan, Frying-pan, Gri●●ion, Chasting-d●sh, 〈◊〉 iron, 〈◊〉, Skelets, Powdering-tub, Trayes, Flee-fork, Drinking-pots, and so many several implements besides, as nigh 〈◊〉 his purse, of all his silver; ho● best 〈…〉 having good customers, and following his work, he 〈◊〉 recruited his stock.  
Now in a short space he grew to be so famous for his excellency ●a workmanship, that he was taken notice of at Cou●t, and preferred to be Tailor to Queen Phillippa King Edward's wife, by which means he gained the custom of the most Eminent Ladies at Court, for as it is commonly seen, for the Lords to be of the King's religion, so it is as usual for the Ladies in their clothes to follow the Queen's fashion. By making to those great Persons he soon attained to a great Estate, but as his wealth increased so did his charge, for Dorothy was very fruitful, bringing him almost every year a child; besides he kept thirty journeymen, and had twenty apprentices, whom he maintained all in one livery, so that he came to be of great esteem in the place where be lived, passing through all the Offices in the Parish, as Scavenger, Headbrough, Constable, Overseer for the Poor, and Churchwarden, and not long after his abilities being more throughly taken notice of, he was chosen one of the common Council of the City, in all which Offices, he behaved himself with much prudence and understanding, 〈◊〉 after it came to pass that William being at Cou●t, with 〈…〉 he had to do for the Queen, that there came thither a 〈…〉 King of Fra●ce, who proclaimed a 〈◊〉 hunting 〈…〉 the Province of Picardy, which had destroyed 〈…〉, and turned that fruitful Country into a bar●en wilce●ne, the 〈◊〉 all the●e round about being uninhabited for dread of that 〈…〉, This 〈◊〉 hunting was proclaimed in the Cou●ts of all the 〈…〉 whereupon a number of acted spi●●t: whose comages promised them on to valorous erterprises, prepared themselves to go. The news o● this noble adventure, set such an edge on William's valour, that he likewise resolved to make one in that gallant assembly, and coming home, imparted his resolutions unto his 〈◊〉, which made the 〈◊〉 to tinkle down her cheeks, and her heart 〈…〉.  
Dear Husband (said she hath the desire of same; accompanied with so eminent danger more 〈◊〉 to call you hence away, than my unseigned affection, and the Paternal care of your sweet Babies, to prevail with you to stay at hom●; were we not so tied together in Hymen's Bands, that nothing but death should unloose that Gordian Knot, O why then should Neptune's waves separate us asunder? consider with yourself he danger of the ●ourney, the more danger in the enterprise in which 〈◊〉 of us are concer●ed; as in a Ship of Merchandise wherein are many partners, that being sunk or taken, the loss redounds unto them al● your Children claim a part in it, I claim a part, 'tis not yourself alone you adventure, let younger spirit follow Mars hi● Train, age soon enough will hasten on grim death you need not to go meet him thus half way; and by thrusting yourself into need ess dangers force Atropos to cut your thread of life, which otherwise might be spun out unto a longer date.  
My second self (replied William) whose Love I prise far more than Indian Gold or all the treasures wherewith America is enriched withal; seek not for to dissuade, my mind from going when fame and honour b●th do call me forth; you say there is danger in the enterprise the greater is the honour in the conquest; he that fears to have his hands stung by the Bees, shall never sweeten his lips with their honey Fame's breath co●●s pains and sweat to purchase it, and the path that leads to Honour is rugged, and full of intricate Meanders. Yet fear not dearest wife, whom the God's love, they will preserve, and expect me home again with fresh Laurels interwoven with those which I purchased before I was married unto thee.  
Dorothy seeing him so resolved to go, and knowing the journey to be attended with Honour left off any forth dissuading him, and like an obedient wi●e, provided all things ready that was necessary for him to carry in the journey; so at the prefixed time he set ●or ●aids, attended only with one s●●vant, leaving the 〈◊〉 ●ing of his Trade 〈◊〉 his absence to his eldest 〈◊〉 man, and the guidance of his house to his 〈…〉 many of the English ●●bility and Gently went a●●ng with 〈◊〉, an● h●ving a 〈…〉 wind, and a 〈…〉 Sea, th●y quickly arrived at Paris the chief City of France, which place they 〈◊〉 of 〈…〉 Country's, who were come to try their manhood against the 〈◊〉 B●●r. The King of France entertained 〈…〉 Foyall●, and that morning they appointed to set forwards to Picardy, assembling them altogether, he made to them this following Oration.  
Brave Sons of Mars whom thirst of glories prize hath invited over into this my Country, I think me Court much honoured in your Noble Companies, each of you appearing li●e unto Meleager who slew the wild Bear, that the incensed Diana sent amongst the Grecians for the neglect ●f her sacrifices, your looks do promise me an assured victory over that our Country's foe, which unto whose victorious Arm; it shall happen, shall be rewarded with a Golden Spear, and an annual pension according unto his degree and dignity.  
These words being uttered the Company set forwards, being about three hundred in number, habited all in grée● like foresters, with swords by their 〈◊〉, and Boar-spears in their han●s, being come within view of the place, and each man ordered according to his stand, they let lose a brace of lusty Beagles, who soon rowz●d the Boar out of his Den then began every man to handle his Weapons, and with a nimble eye to catch all advantages that might be taken; The first that struck at him was a S●●ni● Knight named Don A●onzo, who broke his Spear but won deed him n●t, for his skin was scasely penetrable being as hard as a Bu●s hide ●hen it is tanned. The next that encountced with him, was one monsieur De Bray a French man, who with great fury ran at him with his Buze-spear, bu●●issing his blow, tumble● quite over him, whereupon the Boar turned back: so that 〈…〉, had 〈◊〉 not been reseve by several Knights that 〈…〉, wh●ch made the Boar to leave him, and take 〈…〉 William, who with true English for●● 〈…〉 him, and having broken his Spear at his first 〈…〉 sword, wherewith he wounded 〈…〉 hast away, no ●it 〈…〉 that bring in his toll Ca●éere the●e 〈◊〉 in his way ●●aelsh Gentleman named Shone ap Rice, ap Grissi●h, ap Howel, ap David, ap Morgan, ap Cadwalladar, who being 〈…〉 back 〈◊〉 him 〈…〉 and by, that the Boar 〈…〉 Gentleman away calls Back, who bring so unexpectedly surprised, and mon●ted thus on a sudden, 〈…〉, and 〈…〉 H●llow that 〈…〉 Boar thu● 〈…〉 Italian Brothers, Sign or Francisco, and Siegnior 〈◊〉, he let go his hol●, and 〈◊〉 his self 〈◊〉 him. 〈…〉 Brother's wi●h a lust●-co●●age set upon the Boar 〈…〉, that he turned 〈…〉. The 〈◊〉 Gentleman had by 〈…〉 himself and gotten up again u●on his feet, but see●● the Boar 〈…〉 Cuds plutt●r-a-nails (quoth 〈◊〉) 〈…〉 in her that her can run at none but me. Whereupon to 〈…〉 Boar seeing him to fly, 〈…〉 and tear the ●ol of the 〈◊〉, s● that Sir Taffy judged 〈◊〉 his last da● was come, as 〈◊〉 in his mi●d, eraect●● tum●● Jew neve● to ab●de ●wines flesh again, But William our valiant 〈…〉 soon 〈…〉 of his f●ar, who 〈◊〉 wi●ged haste h● 〈…〉 Sir Taffy, and 〈…〉 with 〈…〉 ●who came to him with open mouth as if he 〈◊〉 deveur 〈…〉 mor●●l he thrust his sw●rd with all his might dew● his 〈◊〉, so that he 〈◊〉 his hear● 〈…〉, which made him to ●all down 〈…〉 dead. When Sir Taffy who was upon the 〈◊〉, saw the 〈…〉, he quickly hasted down, and drawing out his kéen 〈…〉, (which was never 〈◊〉 so any man's hurt before, he 〈◊〉, with might and main upon the Boar. William desired him to hold telling him that the Boat was already dea●, no matter for that (quoth Taffy) but who can tell whether he may live again, and therefore to make sure work he never left till he had backed of the Boars two Forelegs, and then setting his Monmouth cap aside, he said, now let her see whether her can run after her again. The Company by this time were come in and laughed heartily at Sir Taffies valour, and highly applauding William's fortunate success, each of them yellding the palm of victory to him and ascribing the honour thereof alone to his victorious arm.  
Great was the wonderment of the people at the vast proporsion of this Boar, which upon measure they found to be nine foot and a half in length, from his snout to his Tail, and five foot and two inches in height his eyes were as big as Saucers, and his tusks of a spans length as sharp as Spanish needles. The King of France in reward of this vallant service, conferied on William the Honour of Knighthood, in the same place where he had killed the Boar, and with his own hands gave him a Golden Spear, the prize of his Conquest. Then cut they off the Boars head, and fixing it on the Truncheon of a Spear, it was carried in triumph before them all the way in their return to Paris, whether being come they were welcomed in most Royal manner, with ringing of Bells, Feast Pageants, and other costly devices; the people from all quarters flocking about to behold William, who had delivered their Country, from their much feared enemy, the destroying Boar.  
Sir William having tarried some few days at Paris, growing quickly weary of Court delights, and longing to behold his Native Country again, he took his solemn leave of the King of France, and embarking with the rest of the English in a gallant Ship, they cut the briny face of Neptune, and in few days arrived in the delightful soil of England, at the town of Dover, where he made no tarriance, but taking Horse, never stayed till he came to his beloved Dorothy, who entertained him with these loving expressions.  
Thrice welcome home my dearest Husband, my lifes chief joy, and hearts desired treasure, without whose company my life is to me irksome and uncomfortable, and enjoying which all things seem pleasant and delectable. For ever blessed be the immortal powers which kept thee safe throughout thy Journey, and crowned thy endeavours with fortunate success; now let thy mind be fixed to stay at home, banish all thoughts of leaving me again; less danger wilt thou find in the embraces of a loving wise, then in ●he encounters with a Savage Boar.  
Seal then a promise to me with a kiss  
The last of thy adventure▪ shall be this.  
My chiefest joy and hearts delight (replied Sir William) who can withstand the force of this thy Oratory, especially being endeared with a kiss from thy sugared lips, rest assured that thy Company is to me the greatest delights that I possess in his life, and from which nothing but the eminent danger of my Native Country shall persuade me any more to arms, rest then thyself contented my dearest Dorothy.  
Nothing but Death our company shall sooner  
Thine I am now, and will be so for ever.  
According to this loving agreement, Sir William fell freshly again close to his Trade, continued his old customers, gained every day more new ones, so that he increased in his estate exceedingly? He still maintained the same number of Journeymen that he did before, added to the number of his Prentices, and kept such a bountiful house, that his fame rang all over London, none being so much spoken off as Sir William Elsing (for so was his surname) Thus did he spend his days In much joy, his wife loving, his servants singing, and his estate thriving; But what condition in this world is long permament, how soon ●it the pleasures of this life? being like to flowers flourishing in the morning, and withered in the Evening: For not long after it pleased God to send agrievous Pestilence and mortality quite through London, which swept away many thousands; amongst others, Sir William Lady, his Children, and all his Servants, leaving himself alone of his numerous family: so that being brought now into a disconsolate condition, he uttered to himself this dolorous complaint.  
Oye immortal powers, said he, why ha●e ye laid this heavy punishment upon me? O why was I born unto this day, to be so suddenly deprived of that sweet society which should make life comfortable unto me? Oh how vain is whatsoever we hear do possess, nothing certain but uncertainty, Ounconstant world, unstable fortune mutable prosperity: with how many changes do we turn upon the binges of our uncertain Fate, to day flourishing full of friend and acquaintance, tomorrow disconsolate, left alone, and deprived of all.  
In this manner complained the woeful Knight, filling each corner of the house with his sad lamentations, at last he resolved with himself, to bid adien to the world's vanities, and to spe●d the res●oue of his days in a religious course of life; according to this Godly purpose, no sooner was the City free from infection, but he began to put his resolutions into performance, and at the North end of Gay-spurlane, in the parish of Alderman-bury, where formerly was a ruined house of Nuns, he purchased the same, and built thereon an hospital for the number of a hundred poor blind people, which for a long time after was called Elsings spittle, and is now the same that is called Zion College, at the end of this hospital he built a Cell, wherein he became an Anchorite, living therein till the day of his death, which happened on the twenty third day of May, in the year of our Lord 1340. After his death he was canoni●ed for a Saint, and the day whereon he died for a long time after celebrated by the Company of Merchant Tailors, as the twenty fifth of October is by the Company of Cordwayners or Shoemakers in the honour of St. Crispin and Crispianus, but now through the continuance of long time the celebration of this twenty third of May is discontinued.   

CHAP. XIII.  
How Sir John Hawkwood in relief of the Citizens of Florence, encountered with a Sagitary Hun and overcame him, how he killed a Dragon and afterwards died in great love and honour in the City of Florence.  
COme we next to speak of the renowned Merchant Taylor, Sir. John Hawkwood whom we left in the Court of Pardinando King of Cilicia, of whose praise sufficiently to speak, would wear a pen of steel to the stumps, and tyre the hand of the most industrious writer, long had he not been there after the marriage of the Prince Arrialdo with the Lady Mariana, (as you have heard) but he received Letters out of Italy from the State of Florence, imploring his assistance against the Huns, a barbarous people, who had invaded their Province, having to their Leader a certain Saggitary, who was half man and half horse, by whose invincible strength, and swiftness of body they had over run all the Country, and had then laid siege to the chief City of Florence itself. The Letters contained these words  
Most renowned Knight.  
Having had experience of your eminent valour, of which each Country in the world rihgs with the fame thereof, and knowing the nobleness of your mind, ever ready to assist those that are in distress, this spoke aloud unto us to desire your aid against a merciless enemy, who with savage cruelty hath harazed our Country, being as monstrous in his proportion as in his actions, make haste great Prince unto our rescue, than which no action can be attended with more honour, and which shall be accompanied with the prayers off  
Your deplorable servants the people of Florence.  
Sir. John Hawkwood having received this Letter, acquainted King Ferdinando therewith, as also his resolution to hasten to their relief. The Kingthough loath to part with his company, yet it being upon so honourable an account, most willingly condescended, rewarding him very liverally for his noble achievements, and to the rest of the Captains and Officers he gave jewels, and store of money, yea the meanest of the soldiers tasted liberally of his bounty, so that every one praised him for a most honourable and renowned Prince At the prefired day for his departure the Prince Arnaldo presented him 〈◊〉 a rich sword, the hilt whereof was all curiously enchased with diamonds of an inestimable value; and the most beautiful Mariana gave him a rich Diamond King, of so great price, that it was esteemed to be worth a King's ransom. So after many complimental expressions of acknowledgement and gratitude, the renowned Knight took his leave marching with all the speed he could to Italy, and ceased not till he came within the borders of Florence, where he found all things turned toysy turvy, stately buildings converted into ruinous heaps of ashes, Towns lay desolate, and Villages without inhabitants, the fruitful fields crowned with corn, and the fat pastures covered with cattle, were now destitute of both, the barbarous foe spareing nothing which had either life in it, or which was for the sustentation and maintenance of life. Sir John Hawkwood marching into the City of Florence, was received by the Citizens' with great joy, hoping now they should be able to deal with the insulting enemy, who regardless of being encountered with, kept not themselves in an entire body, but dispersinglylay in several companies, Sir John Hawkwood having notice of this their careless security, resolved not to let slip so golden an opportunity, wherefore the next morning he marched out against them, when not four miles off, he found a party of them of about two thousand, some of which were singing, some dancing, some brinking, but none of them prepared or sitting to fight, the English soldiers encompassing them round killed them all, leaving not one of them alive to carry the sad tidings to the rest of their fellows how they sped. Then marched they with their Army five miles further, where was another company of them about four thousand more, whom they served as they did the other; but scearcely had they so done, when the Scouts brought them word that the main body of the Enemies was not above three 〈…〉 thence, whereupon the noble Knight Sir, John Hawkwood drawing up his m●n upon the side of an hill, Inh●● he m●ght be conveniently heard of them all, he there speak to them, these words.  
Four valours renowned soldiers and companions in Arms, have been so often tried and approved in fights, that it may seem superfluous at this present for me to say any thing to encourage you on, I shall now rather advise ye to have a care of being too forward, that you may not be encompassed with their numerous army, and so valour be enforced to give place to multitude, yet would I not by this Oration take off the edge of your valour, but only to desire you to use it ●ith discretion, and being thus forewarned let us march on, God and good fortune be our good speed.  
These words being uttered both Armies drew near to each other, the Huns as to an assured victory by reason of their vast numbers, the English confident as being always used to conquer. The barbarous people seeing so few opposers, never put themselves into order, as accounting themselves sure enough of their prize; but the noble Hawkwood soon made him to perceive the odds between an Eagle an a Kite for drawing out h●s sword, he with an unres●istable courage set upon them, giving as many wounds as blows, and as many deaths almost as wounds (lightning courage, and thundering smart upon them as put a stop to their over high proceedings) the other English Comma●de●s writing after the fair ●eppy that he had set, laid about them like emaged Lions, making legs and arms go complaining to the earth how ill their Masters had kept them, but fearing least in long fight they should be conquered by conquering, they drew back towards the City, but drew back in such sort that still their terror went forward, like a valiant Mastiff, whom, when his Master pulls back by the tail from the Bear, though his pace be backward his gesture is forward. The Huns having tasted so liberally of the English valour, were not over hasty to fellow, so that now some space of ground being betwixt them, and a c●ssation from fight for the present, the Sagita 〈◊〉 Hun 〈◊〉 ●●th between the two armies and spoke as followeth.  
Proud Christians, whose desperate fortunes has emboldened you to this stout resistance, if there he any one amongst you that dares lay a particular claim to valour, and in whose strength you can so much confide as to vemure your cause upon his success set him here appear before me, that we may encounter together, and if he overcome me, we shall willingly yield to you, but if 〈◊〉 overcome by me we shall expect that you shall become servants to us.  
This proud challenge who no sooner 〈◊〉, but that the invincible Hawkwood steeped unto him, saying, monster 〈…〉 thy shaped ten times worse than it is, or ha●st thou the strength of Alludes, who cleansed the Augean stables, or the might of Arlas, who is sa●d to 〈◊〉 port the heaven with his back, yet would I no fear to 〈…〉 with thee, therefore prepare thyself to receive by my sword the just reward for all those cruelties thou hast 〈◊〉, and think not by sight to scape thy deserved punishment, for now is the time come that must p●t a period to all your bloody in humanity's.  
These words being ultered, both parties encountered each other with invincible courage, so that in short time their armour slew in pieces, and the blood ran abundantly down from either pa●ty, in which most cruel fight they continued together for the space of two hours, at last Sir John Hawkwood enraged at the valour of his adversary, and knowing it was now no time of dalliance, seeing the Monster he in 〈◊〉 faint, he so redoubled his blows, and laid on with such invinsible courage, that at last he brought the Saggitary to the ground, who at his fall sent forth such a hideous yell, as if Pluto's Court were broken open or that he were a howlling out his Dirge, for the loss of his bel●v●d Proserpina.  
With this fall of their General, fell the courage of the Hunns, who immediately betwook themselves to flight; the English par●uing them made such slaughter of their bodies, that the earth-drunk wi●h their blood, spewed it up in crimson streams, and the slaughtered carcases lay on such heaps, as if they intended to make mountains of human bodies, thirty thousand was the least that fell in this days encounter: the rest with much fear and confusion returning to their Country. The magnanimous Hawkwood having received this victory, ●ell down on his knees in the field where he was, returning thanks to the Almighty for that great deliverance, not attributing aught in the haste to himself, but ascribing all to the immortal Deity, without whose he 〈◊〉 can do nothing. And now the soldiers being weary of Killing, the fields cleared, and no danger to be expected from the Enem●, the renowned English with their victorious General returned in Triumph to the City of Florence, where they were entertained in such gallant manner that I want art to describe the same. The Bells rung Music played, the Conduits ran Wine, the Maidens with gar●●ios on their h●ads sang and danced in the streets, and generally there was such a rejoicing as had ●ever been seen in that City, all of them with one voice chancing forth the praifes of the renowned Merchant Taylor Sir J. Hawkwood. Having thus in triumph marched up to the Moothall or chief meeting place in a● the City, he was by the Recorder thereof accosted with this fellowing Ora●ion.  
Most renowned Sir. to whom we must acknowledge that we owe whatsoever we are, by whose unconquerable valour our City and Country hath been wrested out of the jaws of destruction, and preserved from utter ruin and desolation: had I as many tongues as Bria●ius had hands, or Argus eyes, yet were all of them insufficient to set forth your deserved praises, whose deeds have been such that Babes unborn in time to come shall chant forth these your noble achievements, vouchsafe great Sir to accept the humble thanks of this our City; and a greateful acknowledgement of your inestimable benefits bestowed upon us, which time shall not obliterate, but shall be preserved in brazen Statutes, that after ages may be informed of your noble facts, and how much posterity is indebted to your immortal memory.  
This speech being ended, they presented him with a rich purse wherein was contained five hundred pieces of Gold, than did the Trumpets sound, and the soldiers gave such a volley of shot, as made the earth to ring with the sound thereof; this Joy continued for the space of six weeks together, each day affording them fresh varieties of pleasures, at last an honourable employment summoned our noble Merchant Taylor the renowned Hawkwood to buckle on his armour again, which was occasioned as followeth.  
England's prime honour, Italy's renown,  
Who upheld all Italy from sinking down.  
His friends also in England to his immortal memory, erected for him at Sible Henningham in Essex where he was born, a curious arched Monument wherein was portrayed the 〈◊〉 of Hawks flying in a Wood, in reference to his name of Hawkwood, and also built a Chantry allowing four Priests ten pounds a pear (such was the Religion of those times) to pray for his soul.  
And thus gentle Reader have we briefly shown you the noble Achievements of some few of the renowned Society of Merchant-Taylors, to ennumerate them all would require more than one man's life to set them down, their number exceeding the bounds of Arithmetic. We will end therefore all in a Corollary concerning this Worshipful Company, their Hall, free School, and some other deeds of Charity by some of that Society, and to I will conclude.   

CHAP. XIV.  
Several worthy Acts of the Merchant-Taylors.  
THe renowned Company of Merchant-Taylors have been a Guild, or Fraternity time out of mind, being called by the Name of Tailors and Linen Armourers. For I find that King Edward the first in the twentieth eight year of his Reign confirmed this Guild by the Name of T'aylors an 〈…〉 and also gave to the Brethren thereof, authority every year at Midsummer to hold a feast, and to choose unto them a Governor or Master, with Wardens: wherenpon the same year 1300 on the Feast day of the Nativity of Saint John Baptist, they chose Henry de Ryal to be their Pilgrim, for the Master of this Mystery (as one that traveled for the whole Company) was then so called until the eleventh year of Richard the second; and the four Wardens were then called Purveyors of Alms (now called Quarterage) of the said Fraternity.  
The Hall belonging to this Worshipful Company is in Thread needle street, not far distant from the Parish Church of St. Martin's Oteswtich, which sometime pertained to a worshipful Gentleman named Edmond Crepin▪ he in the year of Christ 1331. The sixth of Edward the third for a certain sumne of money to him paid, made his grant thereof, by the name of his principal Message in the Wards of Cornhill and Broadstreet, which Sir Oliver Inghani Knight did then hold, to John of Yakley the King's Pavilion maker, whereupon it was then called the New-hall, or Tailor's Inn, for a difference from their old Hall, which was about the back side of the Red Lion in Basin lane.  
The 21 of Edward the fourth, Thomas Holm alias Clarienceaux King of Arms for the South parts of England, granted by his Patents to this Noble Company of Tailors and Linnen-armourers, for their Arms, to bear in a field Silver, a Pavilion between two Mantles Imperial, purple, garnished with Gold, in a chief azure, a holy lamb, fet within a Sun, the Crest upon the Helm, a Pavilion purple, garnished with Gold, etc.  
After this, King Henry the 7 was himself a brother of this fraternity, of Tailors or Linnen-armourers, as divers others of his predecessors Kings had been, to wit Richard the third, Edward the fourth. Henry the sixth, Henry the fifth, Henry the fourth, and Richard the second. And for that divers of that fraternity had (time out of mind) been great Merchants, and had frequented all sorts of Merchandizes into most parts of the world, to the honour of the King's Realm, and to the great profit of his Subjects, and of his progenitors, and the men of the said mystery, (during the time aforesaid) had execrised the buying and selling of all Wares and Merchandizes, especially of woollen cloth, as well in gross, as by Retai● throughout all this Realm of England, and chiefly within the City of London, he therefore of his especial grace, did incorporate them into the name of the Master and wardens of the Merchant-Taylors, of the fraternity of Saint John Baptist, in the City of London.  
This Worshipful Company have a most famous Grammar School belonging unto them, founded in the Year 1561. by the Master, Wardens and Assistants of the Merchant-Taylors, in Suffolk-lane, in the Parish of St Laurence Poulthey, in Downegate Ward, Richand Hills sometimes Master of that Company having before given 5001, towards the purchase of an House, called the Manor of the Rose, sometime belonging to the Duke of Buckingham, wherein the said School is now kept.  
Now as God hath from time to time blessed this worshipful Company with abundance of wealth, so have they not been leaving to distribute the same again in Charitable uses, having near to their Hall built seven almshouses, wherein are placed sevea alms-men of that Company and their wives (if they have any) each of these seven of old time had fourteen pence the week, but now of latter time, their stipend by the said Master and Wardens hath been augmented to the sum of twenty six shillings the Quarter, which is five pound four shillings the year to each of them, besides Coals. More to each of them twenty shillings the Year by gift of Walter Fish, sometime Master of that Company, and Tailor to her Majesty.  
Besides this have they at the West end of Hogs-street, by Tower hill certain fair Almshouses, strongly builded of brick and Timber, and covered with slate, wherein are 14 poor sole women, which receive each of them of their founders 16 pence, or better weekly, besides 8 pounds fifteen shillings yearly, paid out of the Common Treasury of the same Corporation for fuel.  
Now should we come to speak of the gifts and bounties of particular persons free of this Worshipful Company, it would make a sufficient volumn of its self, I shall only instance in one or two, referring the re●● to a more convenient place.  
Robert Thorno Merchant-Taylor, who died in the Year, 1532. 〈◊〉 by his Testament to charitable actions more than four thousand four hundred & forty pounds, and Legacies to his poor kindred more five thousand, one hundred, forty two pounds besides his debts forgiven, etc.  
Sir Thomas White Lord Mayor of the City of London in Anno 1554 and a Brother likewise of the Merchant-Taylors Society, founded St. John Baptists College in Oxford, erected Schools at Bristol, Redding, and a College at Higham Ferries, and gave several thousands of pounds to other charitable uses.  
Sir Thomas Rowe Knight Lord Mayor of the City of London, in 1568 a worthy Brother also of the Merchant-Taylors Company, built the new Churchyard in Bethelem, gave an hundred pounds to be lent to 8 poor men, and 40 pounds yearly to maintain ten poor men for ever to be chosen out of the five several Companies, of Clothworkers, Armourers, Carpenters, Tylars and Plasterers.  
Sir Thomas ●ffley Merchant Taylor, Mayor, who deceased Anno 1580 appointed by his Testament the one half of all his goods, and 200 pounds deducted out of the other half, given to his son Henry to be given and bestowed in deeds of Charity, by his Executors, according to his confidence and trust in them.  
Infinite others might we produce, whose charities and bountiful house keeping, have been as conspicuous as the Sun in the Firmament, no Society having produced more brighter, stars in Fame's horizon, but we shall leave the further prosecution hereof unto a second Edition of this book.    

The song to be sung by the Journeymen Tailors on St. William's day at night.  

O Fall the Trade● that ever were,  
Who with the Tailors may compare,  
That fits the Ladies to a hair,  
And makes them fine and brave,  
They on their Shop-boards sit and sing,  
And live contented as a King,  
Their trade such profit doth them bring,  
They scorn to play the knave.   

The fairest Ladies in the Land,  
Doth to the Merchant Taylor stand,  
Whilst he with parchment in his hand,  
Takes measure of their bodies,  
They are content to handled be,  
By no one trade but only he,  
But to tell all which they do see,  
They are not such dull Noddies.   

The Tailor he goes neatly dressed.  
He eats and drinketh of the best,  
He takes no care, his heart●● at rest,  
But sings like to a Linnet;  
A little matter him up sets,  
He comes not in the Usurers debts,  
At great men's fortunes he not frets,  
He knows there's danger in it.   

His Shop board is his Seat of state,  
On which he sits early and late,  
Free from ambitions deadly hate,  
Or from base envies spite,  
His Thimble doth his finger guard,  
Whilst he doth sing and work full hard,  
He from content is not debarred,  
His actions being right.   

His Needle is the tool by which,  
He in a short time doth grow rich,  
By sowing of full many a stitch,  
In cloth and eke in stuff,  
His shears the cloth doth cut whereby,  
He makes a garment handsomely,  
This is the shears sole property,  
And that is sure enough.   

His Iron Goose at his desire,  
Lies always roasting at the sire,  
To press those seams that do aspire  
And will not handsome be,  
His Bodkin maketh holes, whereby  
Men do with points their Breeches tie,  
And women lace them prettily,  
A comely sight to see,   

Thus doth his trade him profit bring,  
Being shadowed under Fortune's wing,  
And when for service of his King,  
He called is to fight,  
He doth obey his King's command,  
Although it be to foreign land,  
To fight as long as he can stand.  
With all his strength and might.   

In service of their King and Queen,  
What soldiers brave have Tailors been,  
May in the Chronicles be seen,  
Which cannot be withstood,  
Their acts do show they valiant were,  
Their dearest blood they would not spare,  
Nor for their lives at all did care,  
To do their Country good.   
FINIS.