I PRAY YOU Be not Angry: For I will make you MERRY.  
A Pleasant and merry Dialogue between two Travellers, as they met on the Highway.  
LONDON Printed by Bernard Alsop, for Samuel Rand, and are to be sold at his Shop at Holborn-Bridge, 1650.   

A Merry Dialogue between two Travellers upon the Highway, touching their Crosses, and of the Virtue of Patience.  Fabiano and Fernunio. Fernunio, 
FAbian, Good morrow: How do you, and how far walk you this way?  Fabian. 
I do as you see, neither of the best, nor the worst: and am travelling not very far, & yet somewhat more than a pretty walk; about some hundred miles or two for a breathing, to teach the dancing legs of my youth, to plod for the provision of mine old age: & since it is no better, it is well it is no worse: for since I have done myself more wrong, than I can make myself amends, I must be contented with a pudding, while others may feast, that have better fare.  Fern. 
Then I pray you be not angry; for Patience is a plaster for all pain, it is the very poison of all sorrow, a preparative to all comfort, and the only quieter of a troubled spirit.  Fab. 
Why how now? Have you been a Scholar since I saw you? Truly I desire not to trouble your memory, with saying over your lesson without book: all you Adverbs and your Proverbs, will not do me a pins worth of pleasure.  Fern. 
Oh Fabian! have patience, be not angry with your fortune, there are Floods as well as Ebbs: Time hath his turn, and Fortune may be as great a friend as she hath been an enemy: the Stars may one day shine over your house, as well as your neighbours: and therefore stay your hour, you know not when it will come; and therefore take no thought: I pray you be not angry.  Fab. 
Well Fernunio to your sentences: let me tell you, the you know, that I know, that you know, that when you and I did first know one another, you knew the world was better with me, than to let me plod up and down in this manner, with no more Company but my Dog, and my plain Cudgel: but it is no matter, all is one, for having played wily beguily with myself. I can thank no body for my hard bargain: for in the time of my youth (the most perilous point of man's age) falling into such acquaintance as were smally to my commodity, as well of the Masculine as the Feminine gendr who so long fed mine humour with folly, that I fell almost into a Consumption, before I found the Nature of the disease: at length (though somewhat late, yet better late than never) remembering the my father left me more land than wit, and Nature being more Mistress than Reason over my i'll ruled senses: & seeing the world at such a pass that I could have well wished to have been out of it; finding my friends scorn of me, my foes scoff at me; some few pity me, and few comfort me. I resolved to shake of my Shake-rags, and to retire myself unto fone solitary place, where having left one fool to laugh at another; one Villain to cut another's throat, and one honest man to be an example to a whole Parish; I betook me to a travelling life, rather to hear, than to speak how the world went, and to note the courses of the wife, rather than enter into the courses of the wicked whereof the world is so full, the a man can scarce escape their intection: why? if I should tell you how I have been used among them, you would say I had good cause to be Angry with myself, or some body else.  Fer. 
And yet I say, I pray be not angry: for if it be with yourself, fretting will but breed melancholy, and melancholy bring you to such a sickness that you may repent it when it is too late. And to be Angry with any other, if you cannot revenge it it is a folly: if you do, it is uncharitable: for you must forgive. For if I should tell you of some tricks that were put upon me, when I was as wise as any Goose upon Bedlam Green, I should make you believe, that although I preach Patience to you, I should have cause to have little acquaintance with her myself: but spite of the Devil I hope to go to heaven, though I carry more crosses in my heart, than in my purse, yet I hope (with my fellow beggar) to be in Abraham's bosom, when a rich Churl shall dance with Dives in a worse place: and therefore as a friend let me say to you, knowing what is good for you; whatsoever fortune befall you, I pray you be not Angry.  Fab. 
I must confess it is good Council to have Patience, for Patience is a pretty virtue, but the it waits upon a number of Villainies; but let me tell you, if a man spend all the money in his purse upon a company of unthankful villains, and when he cometh to the bottom of his purse, and there finding nothing, intreateth with his friends (as he hath held them) but for an Ordinary or two; and scof singly put off, cannot get a penny among them: what can ye have in all the rule of Patience? only fret at the heart, to hear men say I pray you be not Angry.  Fer. 
And yet let me tell you, that when Anger will not avail him, it is better to be Patient, than Angry; for I have heard it spoken by a wise man That he who cannot be Angry, is a Fool; but he that will be Angry, is more Fool: for when I was (as you said, and I may say) in the prime of my time, I may say in the foolish pride of youth, when all the Gold in the Parish, was copper to my silver: and my wit w●s beyond reason, when I was the only fool of the World: Oh then (to tell you) I was overtaken in the half turn would make one run out of his wits and into them again, if it were possible: for say this, if a man hath no deformity in his proportion, is no Woodcock for his ordinary course of wit, hath wealth enough to live by his neighbours without borrowing, is of parentage with the best of the Parish is in the way of good speed with a match worth the making of: & leaving all honest wise, and good council forsaketh his fortune and binds himself Apprentice, during life, to an i'll favoured baggage, the worst child that her father had, whose beauty is like the back of a sea-coal chimney, and for proportion, the true proportion of a seacrab as much wit as a grey goose, and manners as a blind Mare, & no more wealth than the wool on a shorn sheep: besides the issue of idle drunkenness, which being grounded in all foolishness, can away with nothing, but worse them nothing: whose tongue can keep no secrets; whose heart can think no goodness and whose life is a world of unquietness: & spite of his heart having taken her for better or worse, (when she cannot well be worse and will be no better) must hold out his life worse than ten deaths with her: say yourself that when a man thinks of this misery it would fret him to the very heart; but where is the remedy.  Fab. 
Oh! I pray you be not angry: for if a man should have a Sister whom he loveth dearly, whose beauty and virtue were a Dowry for a Prince, her Lineage Noble, her person comely, her nature kind, her government so discreet, that by the judgement of the wise, she was a match for the worthy: to see this blessed creature, by the cruelty of the fates, bestowed upon the bastard son of a Beggar whose father was a villain, his mother a fool, and he a Changeling whose eyes were three foot out of his head, his nose too long for his mouth, and his skin too wide for his face, his head like a highway, with a little heath on either side, and his beard bending to the alehouse, from thence came the Original of his little honour: and for his under proportion, & answering to the upper parts, whose wit was only practised in villainy whose heart studied but Hell, while his soul was sworn servant to the Devil; and yet this rascal Viper shall, only with his golden claws, creep into the hands (for in the heart he could never) of a pretty wench, and carry her away in such a world of discontentments, that she could never leave sorrowing, till she got into her grave: would it not fret such a brother, that had such a Sister: or chafe such a Lover as had such a love, to see such an overthrow of his comfort, or confusion of his hope.  Fern. 
Oh! I pray you be not Angry: for marriage and hanging some say go by destiny: and although hauging is but a short pain, & marriage is a lingering misery: where disagreement is a deadly life; yet since we cannot go against the will of the higher powers, Patience is a plaster, that will in time draw a man's heart out of his belly, except he have more wit to govern his passion, but leaving love joys, let me tell you, that if a man finding by some old writings in his mother's chest, that his father had title to a piece of land, which for want of a good purse, he durst never make challenge to; & say that I were the man, and by the witness of my honest ancient neighbours, can approve it in good conscience to be mine own in right of law; and thereupon ask counsel & paying for words by weight, and by my learned counsel persuaded, that it is mine past all plea: and thus playing with my nose, or rather with my purse till all be spent: with Demurs and tricks, he drives me to beggary, with suing for mine own right, while he goes gay with my money, and I starve with his words: a vengeance upon his crafty tonveyance. Would not this fret a man's soul to think on it, and cannot help it.  Fab, 
Now God forbidden: I pray you be not angry: for Law was ordained for the best; and though in all professions some are to blame, yet no doubt, but some have such consciences, that they would not be corrupted for a kingdome, but Courts must have their fees, & Scholars must not study for nothing. But for that I am no good Lawyer, nor ever met with any bribes; I have nothing to say to them; but wish the wicked their reward, while the honest may take heed by their example: & so leaving them all to the day of their death, I will tell thou of another matter. Say that I had a friend at least as I take him, and loving him so dearly, that I durst, nay I do trust him withal that I am worth & being to take a voyage either upon command or commodity, fearing some i'll courses to be taken for my children if I should die, knowing women generally, so sorrowful for a lost husband, that they will not tarry long for a new: & what fathers in law be to Orphans, while widow's sigh & say nothing, having (in trust to my friend) made a secret deed of gift of all my estate unto him, the rather that my wife & children may far the better, & now I have escaped many dangers by sea and land, & spoiled of all I had with me, come home, hoping to find comfort yet at mine own house, with that I left behind me: and there no sooner entered in at the gate, but with a coy look, & a cold welcome, I find my wife, either turned out of doors, or so basely used within, that she could well wish to be without: & then if I take it unkindly, be bidden mend it as I can; and so with a frown or a frump, almost thrust out of doors, be constrained to go to law for mine own living, while my mistaken friend having turned Turk, rates for nothing but his own commodity; & contrary to all conscience plays with me for mine own money, till the Lawyer & he together have won me quite out of mine own land, and so play me the Traitor with my trust; save me in the misery of my fortune to end my unhappy days now can you say to this, I pray you be not angry.  Fer. 
Yes very well; for since you see no remedy, but God is such a God in the world, as makes the Devil work many wonders among men, is it not better with Patience to endure a cross, then to crucify the soul with impatience: but say that you should have a wife that you thought did love you well, when she would streak your beard, and never lie from your lips, and would speak you as fair as Eve did Adam, when she cozened him with an Apple, would not abide an Oath for a Bushel of Gold and be so sparing of her purse, that she would not lose the dropping of her nose; bridle it in her countenance like a Mare that were knapping on a Cow-thistle; would wear no Ruffs but of the small set, though of the finest Lawn that might be gotten, and edged with a Lace of the best fashion; would not abide no embroidery in her apparel, yet have the best stuff she could lay her hands on: and feed sparingly at dinner, when she hath broke her fast in the bed; and miss not a Sermon, though she profited little by the Word: This dissembling piece of flesh, making a show of lamentation, out of the abundance of her little love, for lack of your good company, if you were but a mile out of the Town; and if you were to take a journey, would lay an Onion to her eyes. to draw out the Rhinne instead of tears, and having eaten an Apple, with pinching in a backward wind, send out a belching sigh for sorrow of the absence of her Gooseman: and then after all these, and a world of other tricks, to bring a man in bad belief of her good mind: if you returning home a night sooner than expected, and a year sooner than welcome should (having keys to your own doors) come in, and find in your own bed betwixt the arms (I go no lower) of your too much beloved, the living carcase, of a lubberly rascal, or perhaps the perfumed corpse, of some dainty companion, working upon the ground of your pleasure, to plant the fruit of idle-fancy to the horn-greif of your poor heart; could you be pacified with, I pray you be not Angry.  Fab. 
Indeed you put me to it with an If: but I hope there are no such women, ●e for shame it were enough to make murder but Patience being the mean to save many a man's life, and the perhaps being her first, & she upon repentance after a secret reprehension likely to turn honest, were it not better to steat away, and have her maid to wake her, the matter cleanly shuffled up, and she with sorrow rather to confess it in secret and to be sorry for it, and in shame of her fault to leave it while few knew it, rather then in a fury or a frenzy bring in your neighbours, raise up your house, beat your wife imprison the knave, bring your wife to shame, and make the world privy to your cuckoldry: and so she in a desperate madness, either shameless after a little shame, or graceless, in impatience to bear her correction, either cut her own throat or yours, or both, & so all come to confusion through lack of a little charitable discretion: No, God forbidden for rather than any such mischance should befall is it not better to say, I pray you be not angry.  
For to quit your discontentment, say that I should (as God forbidden I should) have married an honest woman, that hath brought me many pretty children, is a good housewife in her house, careful for her children, and loving both to them and me, and for the space of many years, with a good opinion of all her neighbours, and good credit with all that know her, had passed some score of years or two with me, with as much contentment as a reasonable man might desire: and to make her amends for all her kindness, I should either take a whore into my house, or keep her as a hackney at rack and manger abroad, so long till being led by the nose, to believe that she loves me, when I pay for the nursing of half a dozen of bastards: of which if I be the wicked father, my conscience hath little comfort in: & if any other (as 'tis most likely) be the father or fathers, how am I beguiled to play poor noddy, to let my purse blood to pay for the maintaining of another's pleasure. And at the last if she find his abridge my liberality, in a venomous humour come with an out cry to my door, with a nest of her fellow beggars, and there with railing upon me, calling me old lecher whoremonger and I know not what lay her brats down before my gate, and so with gaping mouth go her way, leaving me to my purse only to seek the saying of my credit, and so become a grief unto my wife, a sorrow●… children, and a laughing stock to mine enemies, a byword among my neighbours, a shame to myself, & an enemy to mine own soul: and thus seeing my wealth wasted, my credit lost and impaired, and God so displeased, that I know not which way to turn myself; shall I neither be angry with the whore for bewraying me, nor with myself to let her so befool me?  Fer. 
No; I say as I did, I pray you be not angry: for she did but her kind to use her eyes to the benefit of the rest of her members; & you therefore being a man of judgement, ought rather to be s●●ry for her wickedness, than to show your own weakness, in such years to have a thought of wantonness: but sure the flesh is weak and the strongest may fall: better is a sorrowful repentance than a fretting madness: and since fretting at your own folly will not get you a foot of earth more than your grave, be not at wars with yourself to no purpose; cease from doing evil, make much of your honest wife, serve God in true repentance, and the Devil shall do you no hurt: For is it not better to bear your cross (especially being of your own making) than to run into further mischief, by the wicked humour of impatience? But to the purpose: say this (to quit you with an other proposition) put the case that I being (as you see) a proper man, and in the way of good speed with a handsome woman, and she in state able to do for an honest man that would love her, and make much of her, and I have an intent to deal honestly with her, and she gives me her faith and troth, and swears by her very soul, that I have her heart so fast no man shall have her hand from me; and I thinking because she is old she is honest, and because she swears, that she saith true, go about my business as she bids me for some few days, and then to return to the joining up of the matter betwixt us; and in the mean time, after I have spent perhaps more than my half years wages upon her in wine and sugar and good cheer, and hope to come to be merry, come and find her married to a filthy cozening knave, who by a little more money than I had in my purse for the present, to bribe another rascal like himself, who was the maker of the match, dwells in my hoped house, gives the bag for my money, and hath my fat old sow in such a snare that there is no getting of her out again; when I am thus handled for my good will with this wicked old piece of whitleather to put my trust in an old hogs-sty for my habitation, and to be thrust out of do●s for my labour, shall I not be angry?  Fab. 
Oh not in any 〈…〉 women have wits beyond men's reason, especially when they are passed a child or child bearing, more than they that are past children. Oh I tell you, it is a perilous thing to slip occasion in matters of love; and age is either froward or frail: and therefore you should rather have fed her humour full ere you had left her, than to think she would be unprovided till you should come again to her: and therefore I say as you say I pray you be not angry. For I will tell you, say that I being a man every way to content an honest woman, and having unhappily bestowed myself upon a woman of the worst kind, which before I married her was neither widow, maid, nor wife but a plain whore: and this misery of my days being by my folly brought to some better state than she were worthy; and seeing herself in a glass grown fat through good fare and ease, & setting her countenance even with the pride of her folly, beginning to think better 〈…〉 the Parish besides, should chance upon a little kindness grow in love with my Kinsman, or he with her, and so they grow so great, that I shall stand like John-hold-my-staff, while they take their pleasure: she should sit at the upper end of the table, and I at the nether end: she lie in one chamber and I in another, and yet must not find fault with it for fear of a stab, or a fig, or some other villainy; but with a seeming countenance bear all, as if Pudding were the only Meat of the world while one makes horns at me, another moes at me, another cal● me cuckold another wittol, and I know all to be true and cannot or dare not do withal: do you think that flesh and blood can bear with this and not be angry?  Fer. 
Yes, very well, for as you have flesh and blood, so you have wit and reason: and when your wit and reason can consider, how her trade brings more commodity, and with less travel, than your traffic, if you be not wilful, that you will hear no body speak but yourself, or so scornful that you can endure no companion in kindness, or so covetous, that you will not spare a penny towards the nursing of your neighbour's child or so proud that you scorn the gift of a friend; you will find that such a wife is worth two Milch-cows: and whatsoever the world says, you are beholding to none but her: and where others beggar their Husbands, she hath made you the Head man of the Parish: and then cannot you wink at a little fault that is so full of profit? Yes I warrant you: and therefore I may well say, I pray you be not-angry.  Fab. 
True, it may be that some good Ass that knows not how to live without the basest trade of beggary, will put on any patient for Profit: but from such a rascal nature God deliver me. But to requite you with as good as you bring let me tell you: if I should serve a man of great wealth, and he have a wenching humour, and he keeping more Maidservants in his house than ever meant to be true Virgins, and one of these mad eattel, that for the price of a red petticoat would venture the lining of her placket, should by a mischance of her Masters making, fall into a Two-heeled-Timpany, which could by no means be cured without my consenting to a wicked marriage for a little money; which I by the villainy of the Trul which would put the trick upon me must seem willingly to yield unto, for fear of I know not what to fall out I know not why: and 〈…〉 own heart's comfort, when 〈…〉 delivered of this mischief, hoping that she would meddle no more with any such matters, begin to make a little more of her than she was worthy: and she thereupon grown so lusty, that she cared not for the Parish so long as the Constable was her friend, give enterttainment to whom she list, and use me as she list, set more horns than hairs on my head and care not if I were hanged for my good will: This Rascal, roundabout, without good complexion or good condition as ill-favoured as mannered and so spoken as wicked, being thus void of grace, careless of all credit and irremovable in her resolution for the wicked course of her life; this (I say) hellish piece of flesh, to domineer over me, and with the countenance of her Master, to make a slave of her Goodman who should, be sent on Errands, while she were with her Arrants; I should fetch wine for their drinking, turn the spit to their Roast-meat, or walk their horses while they were saddling my Filly: And yet all this, and I say not what else, I must bear, as though it were no burden for a small reckoning at the week's end for washing of a foul shirt or setting of my Ruffs right, or séething of a Calf's head, or making sauce to a tame g●●se, or for a nod of my Master, that makes a noddy of his Servant: for such and such like matters to put up all matters and swallow grief in my throat, that it is ready to choke me in the going down: is it possible to do all this, that You could be I and not be angry.  Fer. 
Yes very well, for profit is so pleasing, that it puts out a great many ill thoughts that would trouble a man that hath no wit; and for honesty, it is a good thing, I must confess: but if a man be not born rich, and keep himself so he shall gain little by simplicity: and therefore (as I said) where Patience brings Profit. I say still, bear with your Fortune, and be not angry. But leaving to talk more of Female discontentments, let me say this: That I, being a man of sufficiency to supply the Office of a good place born of a Noble house, bred up in all courses requisite for a Gentleman, have traveled divers Countries, seen much of the World by Sea and Land, and through want of my Father's discretion, not left so good a Portion as may maintain my Reputation, without some better matter than mine own Estate, and driven for my better comfort, to put my 〈…〉 know not what hath made rich; and being only wise in the world, hath no feeling of God's grace, but by a thousand ill practices, finds the mean before his death to look over a great deal of more ground than his Grave; and this Captain of the damned crew, who is haled to Hell with a world of chains the Son of a Beggar, and Brother to a Villain to govern over the honesty of my heart, with the commandment of evil service; or (finding me not for his humour, to frown upon me like an old Frying-pan, or to rate me like a Dog because I will not be a Dovil; to be impleyed in more vileness then half a Christian could endure to hear of: now (I say) to spend my time in this misery, only for picking of a Satlad waiting at a trencher, looking on a fair House, making courtesy to an old Relic, hold the Basin to the Rheum, or hearing the Music of a cotton Cough; and after many years' Patience in this Purgatory, where all the wisdom I have learned, were but to corrupt the nature of a good wit, either for a trifle to be frowned at, and by tricks to be wrought out; or with a Livery without a Badge, to seek my fortune in some other soil, to have served long for Nothing or for Worse than Nothing when Discontentment's must be canceled, and I (for fear of a mischief) must speak all Honour of Dishonour, and with a Merry-go-sorry sigh out my days that are no better blest: when I shall see a Fool graced, and better Wits put down, Honesty scorned, and Knavery in more account then commendable; and I, cozening myself with an imagination▪ that service was an heritage, where I found nothing but loss of time and repentance have I not cause think you with all this to be angry?  Fab. 
And yet I say, I pray you be not angry: For if you had so muth of the Grace of God, as to make you rather leave the hopes of Preferment than yield to an ill employment, no doubt, but either your private life will find some secret contentment, or your Patience will find somewhere the advancement of your virtues: and therefore rather be joyful of God's blessing, than impatient with your Fortune, and think not amiss that I say, I pray you be not angry, But to requite you: Say that I having more money in my purse then a wise man would part with but upon the better reckoning should be persuaded to play the Usurer, & so with a little 〈…〉 cunning 〈…〉 should be brought in hope of gain to take in pawn for my money some lease of a good farm, or piece of rich plate: which being not fetched by the day of payment, would return me more than double my money: put my money out of my hands, which I have fared full hard to get together, and I glad of my forfeit, hoping to gain more than a good conscience would away withal, find my lease not worth a point, by a former deed of gift or such a conveyance as carrieth all away from my fingers, and leave me (for all my cunning) in the law, to plead repentance to my folly: or my plate challenged for some piece of pilfery & I brought in trouble for I know not what, and to get out I know not how, till I have brought my stock to a poor state where. I may see the just reward of Usury; when I look in my purse and find nothing, would not this make one angry?  Fer. 
Not a whit: For Knaves will be Knaves, and Fools must be bitten ere they be wise; of which if you be none, no doubt but there are enough in the world. And since all the anger in the world will not recover a penny loss, let me say to you as you say to me, I pray be not angry. And let me tell you that upon a time it was my hap to have a friend (as I thought) whom I loved dearly: and building upon the care of his conscience, that for a world of wealth he would not play the Jew with me; it fell out, that I having more than a month's mind to a wench above a year old whose worthiness might command a far better servant than myself, and yet it had so fallen out betwixt us, that our Affections were so settled, that I thought (without death) there could be no remove: and therefore fearing no Fortune relying so much upon her Love, loving (as I said) my imagined friend more than a wise man should do (for there is a measure to be kept in all things) made him acquainted with my serresse, iouching the intent to steal away my Mistress from the place where she had no pleasure to be kept in, as she had been long like a chicken in a coop; and to the performing of this purpose, hoping to have use of his best help, deliver him a ring, or a jewel of some value to present unto my Love, when I know his means better than mine own, to have access unto her without suspicion; and he after a world of Protestations sealed with too many Oaths, to deal so faithfully, carefully, and secretly for me, as my heart could desire, when faith there was none, nor care of me, nor care of me, nor secrecy but in kéeping all from me, when like a dissembling How he useth my jewel for a mean to rob me of my better jewel: when he presented it as for himself, and revealing some matter of secrecy betwirt us, unpleasing to her, and nothing to my profit, with enchanting charms wins her affection and borroweth my money to cut my throat till having carried away my mistress, he either laugh at me, or write me, a letter to cologue with me: when I think how with trusting a knave. I have played the fool, in conscience say, if ever man would fall out with himself have not I cause to be angry.  Fab. 
No, for as you said to me, knaves will be knaves, and in matters of love, he that will not be the follower of his own cause, may happen to be over thrown in his own suit, and to look for constancy in woman, especially, of a woman in young years, when gifts and bribes are able to work great matters in those courses, it is a mere folly: for say that some are, I know not how many, as constant as Penelope, yet let Danae take heed of a golden shower in her lap: and therefore I pray you be not angry. For lot me tell you to be deceived by a friend it is an ordinary matter: to lose a wench, it is a thousand men's fortunes: and therefore since she was so fickle to trust to think her better lost then found, and for him get your golden jewels and your money from him, and let him walk with his wirked householdstuff; and let me tell you of a discontentment of mine. It was my hap, I may say my ill hap to cast my affection of late on a very proper young man of a pure complexion, neither effeminate nor course faced, neither of Lethersellers, nor Painters comp●ny but a good feature and well coloured: and for his countenance, neither Paul-sleeple height, nor with the fall of the tide; but carried in so good a measure, as shown his wits no more out of order then his members: for his voice, neither Treble nor Base, but a good mean: and his speech neither Rhetorical, nor Logical, nor Tragical nor Colastical: but such as neither too little nor too much answering directly to every question: and speaking necessarily upon good occasion, won him such commendation for his discretion, as increasing much my affection, made me (as I thought) upon good judgement, make him a subject of my contentment: in brief I singled him out of company, to make him my companion, to●● him into my house, bestowed bountifully upon him, let hi●●●●… want ●ny thing that was needful for him: my table to dine at a fair chamber for his lodging, yea and sometimes made him my bedfellow, furnished him with money, horse, apparel, books, and credit for whatsoever he would demand yea, and in mine absence trusted him with the government of my whole house; till my favour bred in his folly that, that at the first I saw not, such a presumption of his own worthiness as I liked not, where contronling even myself for a trifle, himself to blame in the selfsame nature, for a greater matter, thinking all too little that was done for him, and urging more than was meet for him: at last, not able to suppress the venom of his pride, till his heart made his head swell as big as a codshead, in recompense of all my kindness, plays false with my servant-maid, steals away my eldest daughter, robs my coffers, cracks my credit, befools my wi●, & doth what he may too seek the ruin of my estate; is it possible that a man could think of such a villain, and not be angry?  Fer. 
Yea very well, and I say unto you, I pray you be not angry▪ for still knaves will be knaves, and a man had need eat a bushel of salt with a man, before he go toe far to trust him; for he was a worldling and out of the simplicity of your honesty, thinking him to be that he was not, might learn him to trust his like, or any at all, at least with your house your daughter (if you have any) or your servants, if you keep any: and having Patience with your lack of judgement, do for your daughter as you have cause in nature and reason, and pray in charity for his soul, what ever becomes of his carcase: and since I hope you will take this for no ill council I say as I did, I pray you be not angry.  
FINIS.