FOOL UPON FOOL, OR, Six sorts of Sots.  

A flat Fool, and A fat Fool,  
A lean Fool, and A clean Fool,  
A merry Fool, and A very Foole.   
Showing their lives, humours, and behaviours, with their want of wit in their show of wisdom. Not so strange as true.  
Omnia sunt sex.  
Clonnico del mondo snuff.  
LONDON  
Printed for William Ferbrand, dwelling in Popes-head Ally near the Royal Exchange. 1605.   

TO THE READER as much health as to myself.  
Sweet signor, I salute thee kindly, how unkindly so ever you salute my labour; desiring thy love, not thy dislike: Me thinks it were of all things more than strange, that men living, should live grieving, and one to repine at an others prosperity: it may be thou wilt wonder that I do well; yet I wonder not that thou thinkest ill: for the common course is such, the more is the pity. What, be't a new Book says one? I, says another; 'tis called Fool upon Fool: Nay like enough (says the first) Fools writ as their wit works. Why, do we not know that sometimes the air purgeth with uncomfortable sleet, as profitable rain? Are all Wits ever prosperous? no, times are leaden, dull: Age weakens, and Wits must needs decline. Every one then save one, and do what a can, not what a would: But I am tedious to thee and to myself: bid my Book welcome, it may be I may live to make thee amends: if not, no more but this; such a one died in thy debt.  
Adieu, and read true.   

How jacke Oats played at Cards all alone.  
IAcke Oates sitting at Cards all alone, was dealing to himself at Vide-rusfe (for that was the game he joyed in) and as he spied a Knave: Ah knave art there, quoth he? When he spied a King, King by your leave, quoth he: if he spied a Queen Queen Richard art come, quoth he? and would kneel down and bid God bless her Majesty (meaning indeed the then Queen, whom he heard Sir William Hollis his Master so much to pray for:) But here is the jest, jacke as I say, being at Cards all alone, spying a Knave and saying, Ah Knave art there? A simple Servingman being in the Hall weighting his masters coming, walking by, and hearing him say so, thought he had called him Knave, took the matter in dudgeon, and miscalled the Fool: another Servingman more foolish then both, took jacks part, so that in short time they two fell together by the ears; who being parted, jacke Oates gives them each one a Knave, and so takes them into the Buttery to drink: the Knight comes in, seeing the Hall not yet quiet, asked the matter? jacke comes, I'll tell thee Willy, quoth he: As I was a playing at Cards, one seeing I won all I played for, would needs have the Knave from me; which as very a Knave is he seeing, would needs bear him Knave for company: so to bid them both welcome to thy house, I have been to entreat the Knave thy Butler to make them drink. I says Sir William, and you like a Knave made them fall out. I answered jacke, and your drink Sir knave made them friends. Sir William laughing, departed.  

How jacke hit a Nobleman a box on the ear.  
News came to Sir William that such a Nobleman was coming to his house, great provision was made for his welcome: and amongst all jacke Oats put on his now Motley coat, a clean Muckender, and his new shoes. Much preparation was made, which were too long to tell, for I'll assure ye it was one of the greatest Earls in England, unfit to name here: but the Knight and his Lady met him at the gate to entertain him: Sir William with a low congee saluted him, the good Lady, as is the Courtly custom, was kissed of this Noble man: jacke Oats seeing him kiss his Lady, on the sudden gives the Earl a sound box on the ear: knave (quoth he) kiss Sir Willies wife? the good Knight amazed at this, caused him to be whipped: but the kind Noble man knowing simplicity the ground of his error, would not suffer it, but putting it up, left him and entered the house. jacke seeing they were sad, and he had done amiss, had this wit in simplicity to shadow it: he comes after and asked the Earl where his hand was? Here (quoth he) with that he shakes him by it, and says, I mistook it before, knowing not your ear from your hand being so like one another: jacke thought he had mended the matter, but now he was whipped indeed, and had his payment altogether. Thus fools thinking to be wise, become flat foolish, but all is one, jacke never repent him.   

How a Minstrel became a fool artificial, and had jacke Oats his reward for his labour.  
AT a Christmas time, when great logs furnish the Hall fire: when Brawn is in season, & in deed all reveling is regarded: this gallant knight kept open house for all comers, where Beef, Beer, and Bread was no niggard. Amongst all the pleasures provided, a Noise of Minstrels, and a Lincolnshire Bagpipe was prepared: the Minstrels for the great Ceamber, the Bagpipe for the Hall: the Minstrels to serve up the Knight's meat, and the Bagpipe for the common dancing. jacke could not endure to be in the common Hall, for indeed the fool was a little proud minded, and therefore was altogether in the great Chamber at my Ladies or Sir William's elbow one time being very melancholy, the Knight to rouse him up, said, hence fool hence, I'll have another fool, thou shalt dwell no longer with me: jack to this answered little, though indeed ye could not anger him worse: A Gentleman at the board answers, if it please you sir I'll bring ye another fool soon: I pray ye do (quoth the knight) and he shall be welcome. jacke fell a crying, and departed mad and angry down into the great Hall: and being strong armed (as before I described him, caught the Bagpipes from the piper, knock them about his pate, that he laid the fellow for dead on the ground, and all broken, carries the pipes up into the great Chamber, and lays them on the fire. The Knigt knowing by jacke, that some thing was amiss, sends down to see: news of this jest came, the knight angry (but to no purpose, for he loved the fool above all, & that the household knew, else jacke had paid for it, for the common people's dancing was spoiled) sent down jacke, and had him out of his sight: jacke cries hang sir Willy, hang sir Willy & departs.  
Sir William not knowing how to amend the matter, caused the Piper to be carried to bed, who was very ill: and said I would now give a gold noble for a fool indeed to anger him thoroughly: one of the Minstrels whispered a Gentleman in the ear, and said, if it pleased him he would, whereat the Gentleman laughed: the Knight demanded the reason of his laughing, I pray you tell me (quoth he) for laughing could never come in a better time, the fool hath madded me. If it please you (says the Gentleman) here is a good fellow will go and attire him in one of his coats, and can in all points behave himself naturally like such a one: it is good (says the Knight) and I prithee good fellow about it, & one go call jack Oats hither, that we may hold him with talk in the mean time.  
The simple Minstrel thinking to work wonders, as one overjoyed at the good opportunity threw his Fiddle one way, his stick another, and his case the third way, and was in such a case of joy, that it was no boot to bid him make haste, but proud of the knights favour away he flings, as if he went to take possession of some great Lordship, but where ere he got by it, I am sure his fiddle with the fall fell a pieces, which grieved his master so that in love and pity he laughed till the water ran down his cheeks: beside this good Knight was like to keep a bad Christmas, for the Bagpipes & the Music went to wrack, the one burnt, and the other broken.  
In comes jacke Oates, and (being merry) told the Knight and the rest, that a Country-wench in the Hall had eaten Garlic, and there was seventeen men poisoned with kissing her: for it was use to jest thus: by & by comes in a messenger (one of the Knight's men) to tell him that such a Gentleman had sent his Fool to dwell with him. He is welcome says the Knight, for I am weary of this Fool, go bid him come in, jacke bid him welcome: they all laughed to see jacks colour come and go, like a wise man ready to make a good end: What say you to this, says the Knight? not one word says jacke. They cinged with a knife at the bottom of a glass, as toulling the bell for the Fool, who was speechless and would die (than which, nothing could more anger him:) but now the thought of the new come Fool so much moved him, that he was as dead as a door nail: standing on tiptoe looking towards the door to behold his arrival, that he would put his nose out of joint.  
By and by enters my artificial Fool in his old clothes, making wry mouths, dancing, looking a squint: who when jacke beheld, suddenly he flew at him, and so violently beat him, that all the Table rose, but could scarce get him off: well, off he was at length, the Knight caused the broken ones to be by themselves. My poor Minstrel with a fall had his head broke to the skull against the ground, his face scratched, that which was worst of all, his left eye put out, and withal so sore bruised, that he could neither stand nor go: the Knight caused him to be laid with the piper, who was also hurt in the like conflict, who lacked no good looking to, because they miscarried in the Knight's service: but ever after jacke Oats could not endure to hear any talk of another Fool to be there, and the Knight durst not make such a motion. The Piper and the Minstrel being in bed together, one cried, O his back and face the other, O his face and eye: the one cried O his Pipe, the other, O his Fiddle. Good Music or broken consorts they agree well together: but when they were well, they were contented for their pains: they had both money and the Knight's favour. Here you have heard the difference twixt a Flat fool natural, and a Flat fool artificial, one that had his kind, and the other who foolishly followed his own mind: on which two is written this Rhyme.  
Natural Fools, are prone to self conceit:  
Fools artificial, with their wits lay wait  
To make themselves fools, liking the disguyes,  
To feed their own minds, and the gazer's eyes.  
He that attempts danger, and is free,  
Hurting himself, being well cannot see:  
Must with the Fiddler here wear the fools coats,  
And bide his penance signed him by jacke Oates.  
All such say I, that use flat foolery,  
Bear this, bear more; this flat fools company.   

How jacke Oats eat up a Quince Pie, being of choice provided for Sir William.  
IAcke Oats could never abide the Cook, by reason that he would scald him out of the kitchen. Upon a time he had a great charge from his Lady to make her a Quince Pie of purpose for Sir Williams own eating, which the Cook endeavoured to do, and sent to Lincoln of purpose to the Apothecaries for choice Quinces: jacke being at this charge given, thought to be even with the Cook, and waited the time when this Pie was made: it happened so the Cook could get no Quinces, my Lady (for it was the Knights desire to have one) sent about to Boston, and all the chief towns, but all in vain, the season served not: but rather than sir William should be unfurnished, sent to Lincoln again to buy up many Quinces ready preserved at Pothecaries, which she had, though with great cost. The Knight ask his Lady for his Pie, she told him with much ado she had prevailed, but with no little pains in seeking Quinces, for she was feign to buy them ready preserved, & to make a virtue of necessity that way. Sir William seeing it was so, said it should be as well eaten, & sent for his friends, Gentlemen, and others of no small account. There was other great cheer provided to furnish up this sumptuous Feast, and as he invited them, he told them it was a Quince Pie, which he would have eaten: the day drew on, and the Gentles were come, and all was in a readiness, & still jacke forgot not the Pie, but stood faintly sick, and refused his meat: the Knight sorry that his best dish failed him, made no small account of his welfare, asked him: jacke, says he, Where lies thy pain? In my mouth says he (meaning in deed his mouth hung for the Quince Pie:) a Barber was sent for from a Market town hard by, who searched his mouth and could find no cause of pain: but sir William thinking the Fool wanted wit to tell his grief (though not wit to play the chief) bade the Barber departed, ask jacke what he would eat? He said nothing: What he would drink? He said nothing: which made sir William doubt much of his health, refusing his liquor, when it was usually his practice, and the Knight joyed in it too: asked him if he would walk? he said no: if he would lie down? still answering no; but would stand by the Kitchen fire. The Knight that knew he never came there but he did some exploit, forgetting that, led him by the hand (so much he made of him) and bade the Cook see he wanted nothing. jacke standing still, groaned & said: If he died, he would forgive all the world but the Cook. Hang Fool (says the Cook) I care not for thee, die to morrow if thou wilt, and so followed his business. They knocked to the Dresser, & the dinner went up▪ jacke had a sheeps eye in the Oven: anon the second course came, the Pie was drawn, set by, and among other backed meats was to be sent up, but wanting Sugar, stepped aside to the spicery to fetch it, and jacke in the mean time catcheth the Pie and claps it under his coat, & so runs through the Hall into the Yard, where was a broad Moat, and as he ran, the hot Pie burnt his belly: I says jacke, are ye so hot Sir Willies Pie, I'll quence ye anon sir Willies Pie says he, and strait very subtly leaps into the Moat up to the armpits, and there stood eating the Pie. The Cook comes in, misses the Pie, withal misses jacke, cries out, the Pie: sir William's Pie was gone, the Author of that feast was gone, and they all were undone: a hurly burly went through the house, and one comes and whispers the Lady with the news: she tells sir William how jacke Oats had stolen the Pie. jacke was searched for, and anon found in the Moat. It was told the Knight where the Fool was eating it: Gentlemen (quoth he) we are disfurnished of our feast, for jacke my Fool is in my Moat up to the armpits eating of the Pie. They laughed and ran to the Windows to see the jest: there they might see jacke eat, the Cook call, the people hollow, but to no purpose: jacke fed, and feeding greedily (more to anger the Cook, then disappoint sir William) ever as he burned his mouth with haste, dipped the Pie in the water to cool it: O says the Cook it is Sir Williams own Pie sirrah: O says jacke hang thee and sir Willy too I care not, it is mine now: save Sir William some says one, save my Lady some says another: by james not a bit says jacke, and eat up all, to the wonder of the beholders, who never knew him eat so much before, but drink ten times more: at length out comes jacke dropping dry, and goes to get fire to dry him: the knight and the rest all laughed a good at the jest, not knowing how to mend it. Sir William sends for the Cook, who came up with a sorrowful heart, & lamentably complaining, said: it was the Knight's fault for placing him in the Kitchen, where he never was, but he did the like villainy. The Knight not satisfied with the Cook's answer, presently discharges him of his service, and sent him to live elsewhere: go says he, truss up your trinkets and be gone: the Cook seeing no remedy departed.  
jack being dry up he comes, and knowing he had offended, tells a jest (for it was the manner so to do) how a young man broke his codpiece point and let all be seen that God sent him, or such fooleries, but that was not enough, and to chide him, was to make worse of things than 'twas, and to no purpose neither. Sir William demanded why he eat the Pie? because I had a stomach says jacke: would nought else serve, says the Knight but my Pie? O no Willy, says he, thou would not be angry then, and the Cook had not been turned away: but all is well, thou art rich enough to buy more. The Knight perceiving the fools envy, sent for the Cook, and did let him enjoy his place again. So all parties well pleased, but the young bigbellied women, who perchance longed for this long looked for Pie, but if they did, though long look for comes at last, yet they shoot short that aim to hit this mark, for jacke Oates had eaten the Pie and served himself. This was a flat fool, yet now and then a blind man may hit a Crow, and you know a fools boult is soon shot: out it goes hoppen how it will: had jacke kept his own counsel the Cook had been still out of service, and had been revenged, but now being in his place again may live to cry quittance for the Quince Pye.    

A Fat Fool  

The Description of jemy Camber, A Fat Fool Natural.  

THis Fat fool was a Scot borne, brought up,  
In Sterlin, twenty miles fram Edinborough:  
Who being but young, was for the King caught up:  
Served this King's Father all his life time through.  
A yard high and a nail no more his stature,  
Smooth faced fair spoken, yet unkind by nature.   

Two yards in compass and a nail I reed  
Was he at forty years, since when I heard not,  
Nor of his life or death, and further heed,  
Since I never read, I look not, nor regard not,  
But what at that time jemy Camber was,  
As I have heard I'll write, and so let pass.   

His head was small, his hair long on the same,  
One ear was bigger than the other far:  
His forehead full, his eyes shined like a flame,  
His nose flat and his beard small, yet grew square.  
His lips but little, and his wit was less,  
But wide of mouth, few teeth I must confess.   

His middle thick, as I have said before,  
Indifferent thighs and knees, but very short:  
His legs be square, a foot long and no more,  
Whose very presence made the King much sport.  
And a pearl spoon he still wore in his cap,  
To eat his meat he loved, and got by hap   

A pretty little foot, but a big hand,  
On which he ever wore rings rich and good:  
Backward well made as any in that land,  
Though thick, and he did come of gentle blood.  
But of his wisdom ye shall quickly hear,  
How this Fat Fool was made on every where.    

How jemy Camber this Fat Fool, gave his Chain of Gold from his neck to warrant his life.  
WHen the King and Nobles of Scotland had welcomed jemy Camber to the Court, who was their Countryman borne in Sterlin, but twenty miles from Edinborough, this King's birth town, as Greenwich was our late Queens. They reasoned with him to understand his wit, which indeed was just none at all, yet merry and pleasing, whereat the King rejoiced: and seeing he was so fat, caused his Doctors and Physicians to minister to him, but Physic could not alter nature, and he would never be but a S. Vincents Turnip, thick and round. Wherefore the Doctors persuaded his grace, that the purging of the Sea was good for him: well, nothing was undone, that might be done to make jemy Camber a tall little slender man. When yet he looked like a Norfolk dumpling, thick and short. Well to Leeth was he sent, which is the harbour town of such ships as arrive at Edinborough: near they cannot come, which is some mile from the City. To Sea they put in a ship, at whose departure they discharged Ordinance, as one that departed from the land with the King's favour: the Earl Huntley was sent with him to Sea, to accompany him, so high he was esteemed with the King. Who hearing the Ordinance go off, would ask what they do now? Marry says the Earl, they shoot at our enemies: O says he, hit I pray God. Again they discharge, what do they now quoth he? marry now the enemy shoots at us. O miss I pray God (says jemy Camber:) so ever after it was a jest in the Scottish Court hit or miss quoth jemy Camber: that if a maid had a barn, and did penance at the Cross in the high Town of Edinborough: what hath she done? did she hit or miss? she hath hit says the other, better she had missed says the first: and so long time after this jest was in memory, yea I have heard it myself, & some will talk of it at this day. Well to sea they put on a fair sunshine day, where jemy stood fearful of every calm billow, where it was no boot to bid him tell what the ship was made of, for he did it devoutly: but see the chance, a sudden flaw or gust rose, the winds held strong East and by west, and the ship was in great danger, insomuch as the Earl, Master, and all began to fear the weather: by & by a stronger gale blue & split their main Mast, & gave their ship a mighty leak, insomuch as the crack made them all screek out: which jemy hearing was almost dead with fear: some fell to pumping, others on their knees to praying. But the Fat fool seeing themselves in this danger, thought there was no way but one with them, & was half dead with fear, in the end the wind turned, and the raging of the Sea began to cease: I warrant thee now (quoth the Master) jemy we shall not be drowned: I, will ye warrant us, says the fool? I, says the Master, I'll give thee my ship for thy chain if we be drowned: bear witness my Lord says he, a plain bargain, and with that threw the Master his chain, who would have given it to the Earl, but joy of their escape made him delight in the jest, and therefore the Master enjoyed his bargain: With much ado they attained thither again, where the King fearful before, awaited their landing now, and seeing jemy not a jot less of body than he was, (only lightened of his chain) how now, quoth he, how dost thou man? O says jemy, well now King, but ill had not the Master been, who warranted our lives for my chain, the best bargain that ever I made, for no way could I have been a loser: how, says the King? marry I'll tell thee King, quoth he, say we had been drowned, his ship was forfeit to me for my chain, Earl Huntley was a witness to the bargain: and now we are not drowned, for my chain did warrant our lives of the Master: nay, says the Earl, not our lives, none but yours jemy: our lives were as safe unwarranted without a chain. With this the fool had some feeling of sense and on the sudden cried out mainly for his chain again, which was restored to him by the Master, but he lost nothing by that, for he attained to a suit, as the story says, that he had been three years above. Thus the King & Nobles went to Edinborough merrily talking of their fear and welfare.   

How jemy Camber gave five French Crowns for a Salad of an atchison price, which in our money was three farthings.  
IEmy this Fat fool used every day to go from the Abbey in the low town, up the hill into the City of Edinborough, and one evening above the rest, he met with a broken Virgin, one that had had a barn (as there they are known by their attire) wearing a lose kerchief hanging down backward, she I say cried Salads as thus: buy any Cibus Salletea. jemy desirous of Salads, calls her to him: lass says he, what shall I give thee for a good Salad? fair sir says the wench (for she knew him for the kings fool, & she could not please him better than to call him fair sir) you must give me an atchison: now he having nothing but six French Crowns about him, canst thou change me a Crown says he? yea sir says she: he gives her a French Crown, and she gave him a Salad for it, and she went her way.  
jemy thinks it was much to give a crown for that, for which she did demand but an atchison: which in our money is but three farthings, he runs after and says, she had his fairest crown, but says he give me that and take your choice of these: thinking by that devise to get the first Crown again. Will ye change says the lass? I says the fool: so she takes all the five and gives him one again, & so laughing at his folly, goes her way, it was in vain to exclaim, for they will hold fast what they get: but my fat fool goes home to eat his Salad, & invites the King to a dear dish, and made him laugh heartily at the jest: The King calls for Vinegar to his Salad, because his sweet meat should have sour sauce, & persuaded him it was well bought, otherwise if the fool had repent his bargain, it was his manner to cry for his money again, and without it all the Court could not quiet him.   

How jemy this fat Fool, sweat almost to death, and never knew the reason.  
BEtwixt Edinburgh Abbey the King's place and Leeth, there stands an even plain green Meadow, in which the King used most of his sports: amongst which he road thither one day to run at the Glove, or the King, as his Grace should please. With him rides jemy Camber on a trotting Mule: it was then a marvelous hot day. O (says jemy) how cold the weather is (so wise he was that he scarce knew hot from cold.) No says the King, it is hot, look how I sweat. No, says jemy the Sun blows very cold. No, says the King, the winds shines very hot. The Fool was almost angry to be crossed, & said, he would be hanged at night if he did sweat that day: with this merry talk they road on: but one of the kings Footmen hearing this, told the King at their return he would make his Grace laugh heartily: so the King very gallantly ran that time, & never missed the glove, & so did the Lords: which jemy seeing, said it was nothing to do: The King bade him run, he did so: but the Glove lay still, and jemy could not do it.  
The King's footman (that watched to do him a good turn) said, jemy could do it better blindfold: what can he q. the King, I will never believe it? you shall see else quoth he: whereat jemy marveled much, that without sight a man could do that which with all his might and sight he could not do, was desirous to make trial, so was blinded with a scarf, while another took up the glove, and was ready for the jest: jemy runs, ah for my Master says he, they all shout aloud and cry rarely well done, and one unblindes him, while another puts the glove on the spear. So simple he was, that he thought it was strange, and bragged all that day not a little: the King did alight and went to drink wine at the Lord Huns house, and jemy went with him, while the footman had time to work his will, and mingling a conceit with butter (which I will not name, lest some one should practise the like) clapped it under the saddle, and as they road home to Edinborough, says the King, what say you to the weather now jemy? me thinks it is hotter than it was? nay it is colder says he, for I begin to sweat.  
The trotting of his Mule made the mingled confection lather so, that it got into his breeches, and worked up to the crown of his head, I to the sole of his foot, and so he sweat profoundly: still he wiped and he wiped, sweeting more and more, they laughed a good to see him in that taking: now you must be hanged, quoth the King, as your bargain was, for you sweat very much: what remedy, says he, I am content to be hanged, but while I live after, I'll never believe cold weather will make one sweat: no more will I says the King, but hot weather will. Hot or cold, says jemy, I am warm now I am sure, I would I were over head and ears in some River to cool me. So simple he was, that he knew not whether it was the Sun or the wind made him sweat: at night the King caused him to be washed, and perfumed, yet he was scarce sweet twenty days after. Thus this fat Fool chafed, but not in his own grease.   

How this fat Fool jemy Camber, ran with the King's best Footman for a wager, and won it.  
IEmy, who was as you have heard, a tall low man, and was swift of foot, on a time challenged the King's best Footman, for a wager to run with him from the Abbey up the hill to Cannegate, (which stood evering to Edinburgh, as Ludgate doth to London, and the King's place about Temple bar:) the King being told of this challenge, thought it would be good sport to see it performed, still persuaded jemy to dare his Footman, who before denied him, and knew Fools would talk any thing, though far unfit to perform any thing. Still the King would say he was made nimble to run, and asked every Nobleman's judgement, who likewise soothed the King: it was so that they made him believe he was swift of foot, that I think jemy in the end persuaded himself, that none but fat men could run well, and nimble men being light, would fall soonest, considering that light things being of small substance, not feeling themselves, would surely fall. But here is the sport, the Footman seeing it was the King's pleasure to see the wager tried, dared him, which made jemy mad, that he would run with him from Edinburgh to Berwick (which was forty miles) in one day, as a thing unpossible as to pull down a Church in one hover, and to build it again in an other: for jemy was lost in the King's company once of purpose, but five mile from the City, at the Earl Mortons' castle at da k, and they thought he would never have come home again: when the King heard every hour he was coming, and still as he increated every passenger to let him ride: by the kings watch in the high way, they had warning given to the contrary: for he was seven days going five mile: then judge how long he would be a running forty? you will muse how he did for meat all the time: I'll tell you he fasted all day, and went supperless to bed, but being in his first sound sleep, meat was brought and laid by him and a Choppin of Wine (for so they call it there) which made him at his coming to court tell the King, Heaven was gentler than Earth, for earthly men would show him no favour, neither to ride nor feed him, when he was every night cast into a sound sleep, and then when he waked was sure of meat from heaven to feed on: when the meat came from the King's Kitchen at Edinburgh Abbey.  
But to go forward with our challenge, the King said the first word should stand, and on jemyes' head he laid a thousand marks: the Lady Carmichell that laughed to hear all this, wagered as much on the Footman's head: the day was appointed the next morrow being Thursday, to begin at five a clock in the after noon, in the cool of the evening, and every one to his race must make him ready. jemy as he had seen the kings Footman do, washed his feet with Beer, and soaked them in Butter: so all that night, and the next day, there was nothing but jemy and his provision to that great journey. The time came, jemy was stripped into his shirt, trust round for the purpose: the Footman and he gins to run: the Footman makes great show of labour, and the Fool made the substance, for he was quickly in a sweat: they puffed and they blowed, they ran as swift as a pudding would creep. jemy thought himself no small fool to outrun the Footman, and did in his mind assure himself to win: the King laughs to see the toil he made, and the Footman made great show and little pains. By and by jemy calls for drink, and the King loathe he should have any harm with labour, caused him to have a mixed drink to cast him into a sleep: who when he had drunk, as he ran on his wager, he dropped down in the street, as heavy as if a leaden plummet that makes a jacke turn the spit, and fallen on the earth dab: there he slept, and was carried by command to the top of the hill, and laid down again: there he slept half an hour, and when he waked, he remembered his journey: seeing people still about him, up he gets, away he iogs, and never looks behind him: and seeing Cannegate so near him, had not the wit to wonder how he came there, but laid hold on the ring of the gate, & stayed to be seen. By and by the Footman comes sweeting, with water powered on his face and head: O my heart says he: O my legs! says jemy, I will not do so much for all scotlan again. Well, jemy cries victory, victory: and there was the kings Coach at hand to carry him home, for of himself he could never have gone, had his life lain on it. But when he came home, the brags he made, the glory he got, how he outran the Footman (and ran so easily as if he had been asleep) was wonderful: I, it was sport enough for the King a month after to hear him tell it. Well, the King won the wager he thought, and that was honour sufficient for him: not three days after he bade the King put away all his Footmen, and he would serve his turn to any place. The King thanked him for his good will, and said when his need was great, he would make bold to use him: so jemy this fat fool ever bragged of this wager.   

How this fat Fool jemy was stung with nettles, and how after unknown to himself, helped to make his own grave.  
THere was a Laundres of the Town, whose daughter used often to the Court, to bring home shirts and bands, which jemy had long time loved and solicited, but to no end, she would not yield him an inch of her maidenhead: now jemy vowed he would have it all. Well, she consented at last, and to be short, soon at night at nine a clock, being in the winter, when she knew her mother to be gone to watch with a sick body, he should come and all that night lie with her: jemy though witless, wanted no knavish meaning in this, thought long till it was night. But in the afternoon, the maid goes up to the Castle, and gathers a great basket of Nettles, and coming home, straws them under the bed.  
Night comes, nine a clock strikes, jemy on his horse comes riding forward, sets him up and knocks at the door, she lets him in, and bids him welcome bonny man: to bed he goes, and jemy never was used but to lie naked, for it is the use of a number, amongst which number she knew jemy was one, who no sooner was in bed, but she herself knock at the door, and herself asked who was there, which jemy hearing was afraid of her mother: alas Sir (says she) creep under the bed, my mother comes. jemy bustled not a little, under he creeps stark naked, where he was stung with Nettles: judge you that have feeling of such matters, there he lay, turning this way and that way, here he stung his leg, here his shoulder, there his buttocks: but the maid having locked the door to him, went to bed and there lay he in durance (as they say) till morning: when the day broke up gets the maid, to Court she goes, and tells the King's chamberlain of the matter, and he told the King, who laughed thereat right heartily.  
The Chamberlain was sent to see him there, who when he came, found him fast asleep under the bed stark naked, bathing in Nettles, whose skin when he wakened him, was all blistered grievously. The King's Chamberlain bid him arise and come to the King. I will not, quoth he. I will go make my grave. See how things chanced, he spoke truer than he was aware: for the Chamberlain going home without him, told the King his answer. jemy rose, made him ready, takes his horse and rides to the church yard, in the high town, where he found the Sexton (as the custom is there) making 9 graves, three for men, three for women, & three for children, and who so dies next, first comes first served: lend me thy spade, says jemy, and with that digs a hole, which hole he bids him make for his grave, and doth give him a French crown, the man willing to please him (more for his gold then his pleasure) did so: and the fool gets upon his horse, and rides to a Gentleman of the town, and on the sudden within two hours after died: of whom the Sexton telling, he was buried there indeed. Thus you see fools have a guess at wit sometime, and the wisest could have done no more, nor so much. But thus our fat Fool fills a leave grave with his carcase, upon which grave the King caused a stone of Marble to be put, on which the Poets did write these lines in remembrance of him to this day.  
He that guard all men till jeer,  
jemy a Chamber he jigs here:  
Pray for his sale, for he is geane,  
And here a jigs beneath this steane.    

A Lean Fool  

How Leanard a lean Fool, played at slide groat by himself after dinner, when his belly was full.  
IN the merry Forest of Shearewood dwells a kind Gentleman, whose name I omit, fearing I too much offend in meddling with his fool: but I trust he will pardon me, for sithence he is so well known there about, I think it not amiss to tell it at London, that people seeing the strange works of God, in his differing creatures, we that have perfect resemblance of God, both in sense and similitude, may the btter praise his name, that we differ from them whose humours we read, see, & hear, are not so strange as true. I say again, this Gentleman hath yet a Fool, Leanard they call him: lean of body, looking like envy, whose conditions agree with his countenance: one time above all other, he locked himself into a Parlour, where all alone he played at slide groat, as his manner was, pieces or counters he had none: yet casting his hand empty from him, fly says he, short with a vengeance: then play says he (to his fellow) when in deed there is none but himself: but thus with supposes he plays alone, swaggers with his game fellow, out-sweares him with a thousand oaths, challenges him the field to answer him if he be a man, appoints the place and all, that if any not knowing his conditions, should stand without and hear him, would think two swaggerers were swearing God from heaven.  
To his play again he falls, seven up for twelve pence, for that is his game still: well, they fall out, they go together by the ears, and such a hurley burley is in the room it passes: at the last the Stools they fly about, the Pots they walk, the Glasses they go together, nay the Prayer books they fly into the fire, that such a noise there was, that the whole house wondered at his folly, persuasions were to no purpose, doors would he open none, till they violently broke them open, though they wear of gold, and so they did, and entered the Parlour, found all this level coil, and his pate broken, his face scratched, and leg out of joint, as a number say to this hour, that a is a play fellow for the devil, and in game they cannot agree: but that is otherwise, for in the great Hall, at the serving men's request he will play by himself, if they will not play with him: and who so plays with him, though they play for nothing and with nothing, all is one they must fall out, and if others be not by to part them, mischief may be done, for he will lay it on, take it off who will: so that at his first coming he endangered many, and now take heed is a fair thing, for few will come need him. Thus you may see fools that wants wit to govern themselves well, have a wilful will to go forward in folly.   

How this lean Fool Leanard, eating his belly full, was revenged of one that clapped corziars wax to his head.  
THis lean greedy fool having a stomach, and seeing the butler out of the way, his appetite was such, as loath to tarry, breaks open the Dairy house, eats and spoils new cheese-curdes, cheesecakes, overthrows cream bowls, and having filled his belly, and knew he had done evil, gets him gone to Mansfield in Sherwood, as one fearful to be at home: the Maids came home that morning from milking, and finding such a masaker of their Dairy, almost mad, thought a years wages could not make amends: but O the fool lean Leanard, they cried, he did this mischief, they complained to their Master, but to no purpose, Leanard was far enough off, search was made for the fool, but he was gone none known whither, and it was his property having done mischief, never to come home of himself, but if any one entreated him, he would easily be won.  
All this while the fool was at Mansfield in Sherwood, & stood gaping at a shoemakers stall: who not knowing him, asked him what he was? go look says he, I know not myself: they asked him where he was borne? at my mother's back says he: in what country quoth they? in the country, quoth he, where God is a good man: at last one of the three journeymen, imagined he was not very wise, and flouted him very merrily, ask him if he would have a stitch where there was a hole? (meaning his mouth) I quoth fool, if your nose may be the needle: the Shoemaker could have found in his heart to have took measure on his pate with a Last instead of his foot: but let him go as he was.  
A Country Blow jogger being by, noting all this, secretly stole a piece of shoemakers wax off their stall, and coming behind him, clapped him on the head, & asked him how he did: the fool seeing the pitch ball, pulled to have it off, but could not but with much pain, in an envious spleen smarting ripe, runs after him, falls at fifty cuffs with him, but the fellow belaboured the fool cunningly, and got the fools head under his arm, and bobbed his nose: the fool remembering how his head was, strikes it up, and hits the fellows mouth with the pitched place, so that the hair of his head, and the heir of the clowns beard, were glude together: the fellow cried, the fool exclaimed, and could not suddenly part: in the end the people (after much laughing at the jest) let them part fair the one went to pick his beard, the other his head: the Constable came, asked the cause of their falling out, and knowing one to be Leanard the lean Fool, whom he had a warrant from the Gentleman to search for, demands of the fellow how it happened? the fellow he could answer nothing but 'em, 'em, for his mouth was sealed up with wax: dost thou scorn to speak, says he, I am the kings Officer knave: 'em, 'em, quoth he again, meaning he would tell him all when his mouth was clean: but the Constable thinking he was mocked, clapped him in the stocks, where the fellow sat a long hour farming his mouth: and when he had done and might tell his grief, the Constable was gone to carry home Leanard to his Master, who not at home, he was enforced to stay supper time, where he told the Gentleman the jest, who was very merry to hear the story, contented the Officer, and bade him to set the fellow at liberty, who betimes in the morning was found fast asleep in the stocks: the fellow knowing himself faulty, put up his wrongs, quickly departed, and went to work betimes that morning, with a flea in his ear.   

How Lean Leanard eat up his masters Hawk, and was almost choked with the Feathers.  
THe Gentleman with whom this Leanard dwelled, having bought a goodly fair Hawk, brought her home, being not a little proud of his pennyworth, and at supper to other Gentlemen, fell a praising of her, who soothing up his humour, likewise failed not to add a torch of fire to increase more flame, for indeed the bird was worthy of commendations, and therefore did merit praises. Leanard standing by with his finger in his mouth, as it was his custom, often hearing them praise the goodness of the Hawk, hought in deed they had meant for goodness being far better meat than a Turkey or a Swan, was very desirous to eat of the same: and unknown goes down, and suddenly from the Perch snatched the Hawk, and having wrong off her neck, gins to besiege that good morsel, but with so good a courage, that the feathers had almost choked him: but there lay my friend Leanard in a lamentable taking. Well, the Hawk was missed, and the deed was found, the Master was fetched, and all men might see the Hawk, feathers and all not very well digested: there was no boot to bid run for drams to drive down this undisguested moddicome: the Gentleman of one side, cried hang the Fool: the Fool on the other side cried not, but made signs that his Hawk was not so good as he did praise her for: and though the Gentleman loved his Hawk, yet he loved the Fool above: being enforced rather to laugh at his simplicity, then to vex at his losses suddenly: Being glad to make himself merry, jested on it ever after: upon whose Hawk a Gentleman of his, very wisely writ these lines, and gave unto his Master.  
Fools feed without heed, unhappy be their feeding,  
Whose heed being in such speed, attempted without heeding  
May they choke that provoke, appetite by pleasure,  
When they eat forbidded meat, and feed so out of measure.  
The Gentleman laughed at this rhyme, yet knew not whether was the more fool: he for writing, the other for eating, or he for losing. Well, putting the Hare to the Goose-gibblets, seeing there was no remedy, make himself pastime, pleased himself, and did rest contented.   

How the Lean Fool set fire on the Wheelbarrow that he loved so, unknown to himsalfe.  
He that mischiefs many, sometimes wrongs himself: as hearken to this jest. Leanard of all things loved his Wheelbarrow, he would work all day and carry dung in it, yet would sleep in it at night: he would set up meat for his belly in it, I what did he without it? Once at a Christmas time, when the fire in the Hall was full, and Leanard was sore a cold, he got coals out of the Scullery, and put them into his Barrow, and set them on fire, and so sat him down to warm him, quite forgetting it was made of Wood, and Wood would burn: so in the end being warm, goes for a jack of Beer, brings it, and sets it on the fire to warm, so that the inside melted, and he drank the drink notwithstanding: but on the sudden he seeing the Wheelbarrow flame that he so loved, aloud he cries O me, O me, O me, and takes it up flaming, and trundles it into the Hall among the people to show: the young men and maids tumbled over one another for fear: some had their faces burned, others their legs: the maids their smocks, yea one set fire on another, for their Aproves burned, and being many people, the flame increased rather then decreased: Leanard seeing no one would help him, runs (for fear lest the Gentleman should know it) and thrusts it into the Barn to hide it, which some seeing, runs after, and had they not come at that time, the Hay and Straw had been all burnt, for it was already of a light fire, but being quenched out, all was well: such is the envy of Fools, who seeing none would help him, thought to do them mischief, which he did, but not much.    

A Clean Fool  

How jacke Miller simply burned the hair of his head and face.  
IN a Gentleman's house where jacke Miller resorted, as he was welcome to all: it chanced so there was a Play, the Player's dressed them in the Gentleman's Kitchen, & so entered through the Entry into the Hall. It was after dinner when Pies stood in the Oven to cool for supper: jacke had not dined, and seeing the Oven stand open, and so many Pies there untold (he thought because they seemed numberless) OH says jacke, for one of them p. p. pies, for so he stammered in speaking (the Player's boy being by, & in his ladies Gown) could have found in his heart to creep in clothes and all: but he persuaded jacke to do so, to which he was willing, and very nimbly thrusts in his head into the hot Oven, which being but newly opened, on the sudden he was singed both of head and face, and almost not a hair left on his eyebrows, or beard: jacke cries, O I burn, and had not the wit to come back, but lay still: the Gentlewoman boy took him by the heels and pulled him out, but how he looked I wish you to judge that can discern colours. O jacke was in a bad taking with his face poor soul, and looked so ugly, and so strangely, that the Lady of the Play being ready to enter before the Gentiles to play her part, no sooner began, but remembering jacke, laughed out, and could go no further: the Gentleman inuzed at what he laughed: but such a jest being easily seen, was told to the Gentleman, who sent in for jack Miller, who came like bald Time, to tell them time was passed of his hair: but he so strangely looked as his countenance was better than the Play. But against night the Player's dressed them in another place, and at supper jacke Miller sung his song of Dirries fair, with a barmy face to take out the fire, & looked like the Pater of the Alefat it was no boot to bid jacke stut & stammer, poor fool as clean as he was, he was now but beastly faced, for he looked like a man that being ashamed to show his face, had hid it in a dry lome wall, and pulling it out again, left all the hair behind him.   

How the clean fool was loath to foul his shoes, or foul his band.  
IAcke, on New Year's day in the morning, was to carry a New Year's gift to a gentleman a mile off; and as he stayed to have it delivered to him to bear, asked which was the cleanest way thither? A fellow knowing his cleanliness, sends him over a dirty marsh: & so he folded up his band (than clean) for fouling, that at the gentleman's door he might put it on. The Present came, which jack seeing, made legs to the gentlewoman, forgetting his band was in his hose, carried a stiff neck to & fro to the gentlewoman, & what ere she spoke, or where ere she stood, jack would look but one way, as though his neck had been starched: & remember, says the gentlewoman, you abuse not my message, nor my gift. No foe fo forsooth, says jack: and away he goes, & thought he would see what it was: & as he went, he lift up the basket lid & looked: Ah ha, quoth jack, I see now it is Almond but bu butter: along he goes, and seeing the marsh wet & dirty, thought to leap a little ditch, and so to go a clean high way: but (O poor jack) he, basket and all, lay in the middle of the ditch, up to the armpits in mud; which jack seeing, gets out, & goes to a river by, and washes himself first, his band next: where, if it had been about his neck as it should, it had been labour well saved: but last his basket of Almond butter, he washed the dirt off so long, that the butter was washed away; which he perceiving, in that woeful taking comes back, & calls for more bu bu butter. The Gentlewoman seeing how things went, rather laughed then vexed, because she was so simple to trust a Fool with matters of trust, & bade him get in to the fire to dry him, & said, Next time she would stay her servants leisure (who then were abroad) rather than to trust to a rotten staff. jack stood singing Derries fair by the fire, with a jack of good beer: & while he dried himself without, wet himself within: and there is all the thought he takes. Thus clean fools light still on beastly bargains.   

How jack Miller the clean fool, ventured over the Severne on foot in great danger.  
IN the town of Esam in Worcestersh jack Miller being there borne, was much made of in every place: It happened that the Lord Shandoyes Players came to town, and used their pastime there, which jack not a little loved, especially the Clown, whom he would embrace with a joyful spirit, and call him Grumball (for so he called himself in gentlemen's houses, where he would imitate plays, doing all himself, King, Clown, Gentleman, and all: having spoke for one, he would suddenly go in, and again return for the other: and stambring so beastly as he did, made mighty mirth. To conclude, he was a right innocent, without any villainy at all.)  
When these Players as I speak of had done in the town, they went to Partiar, & jacke swore he would go all the world with Grumball, that he would: it was then a great frost new begun, & the Haven was frozen ever thinly: but here is the wonder, the gentleman that kept the Hart (an Inn in the town) whose backside looked to the way that led to the river side to Partiar, locked up jack in a chamber next the Haven, where he might see the players pass by; and they of the town loath to lose his company, desired to have it so: But he, I say, seeing them go by, créeps thorough the window, and said, I come to thee, Grumball. The players stood all still to see further. He got down very dangerously, and makes no more ado but ventures over the Haven, which is by the long bridge, as I guess, some forty yards over: tut he made nothing of it; but my heart ached to see it, and my ears heard the ice crack all the way. When he was come unto them, I was amazed, and took up a brickbat (which there lay by) and threw it, which no sooner fell upon the ice, but it burst. Was not this strange, that a fool of thirty years was borne of that ice, which would not endure the fall of a brickbat? yes, it was wonderful me thought: but every one rated him for the deed, telling him it was dangerous. He considered his fault, and knowing faults should be punished, he entreated Grumball the Clown, whom he so dearly loved, to whip him; but with Rosemary: for that he thought would not smart. But the Players in jest breeched him, till the blood came, which he took laughing: for it was his manner ever to weep in kindness and laugh in extremes. That this is true, mine eyes were witnesses, being then by.   

How jack the clean fool sung his song of Derries fair in divers places, where he made good sport.  
jack Miller welcomed to all places, and barred of none, came to a Gentleman, who being at dinner, requested him for mirth, to make him a play, which he did, & to sing Derries fair, which was in this manner: First, it is to be noted, he stutted hugely, and could neither pronounce b nor p, and thus he began: 
As I went to Derries fair, there was I ware of a jolly beggar,  
Mistress Annis, master Thomas, under a tree mending of shone,  
Mistress Annis, master Thomas, hight brave beggars every one.   
And so forward: but the jest was to hear him pronounce brave beggars: & his quality was, after he began his song, no laughing could put him out of it. One standing by, & noting his humour, that b and p plagued him, bade him say this after him, which jack said he would do.  
Buy any flawn, pasties, pudding pies, plumb pottage, or peascods? O, it was death to jack to do it: but like a willing fool he fell to it: Buy any, buy any fla flawn, p p p pasties, and p p p pudding p p pies, p p p etc.  
And ever as he hit on the word, he would pat with his finger on his other hand, that more & more it would make a man burst with laughing, almost to see his action: sometime he would be pronouncing one word, while one might go to the door and come again. But ever after, Gentiles would request him to speak that, where before Derries fair was all his song.  
He came not long after (to this I am witness, because my ears heard it) to a Gentlemans not far from Vpton upon Severne: where at the table (amongst many gallants and Gentlewomen, almost the state of the country) he was to jest and sing, especially they entreated him for his new speech of the pées: which he began in such manner to speak, with drivelling and stuttering, that they began mightily to laugh: insomuch that one proper Gentlewoman among the rest, because she would not seem too immodest with laughing: for such is the humour of many, that think to make all, when God knows they mar all: so she straining herself, though inwardly she laughed heartily, gave out such an earnest of her modesty, that all the Table rung on it. Who is that, says one? Not I, says another: but by her cheeks you might find guilty Gilberto, where he had hid the brush. This jest made them laugh more, and the rather that she stood upon her marriage, and disdained all the gallants there, who so heartily laughed, that an old gentlewoman at the table took such a conceit at it with laughing, that had not the fool been, which stood (by fortune) at her back, and was her supporter, being in a great swoon, she had fallen to the ground backward: but down they burst the windows for air, & there was no little boot to bid run: she was nine or ten days ere she recovered that fit on my knowledge. Thus simple jack made mirth to all, made the wisest laugh but to this day gathered little wit to himself.    

A merry Fool  

A description how this merry Fool, being Will summers (the King's natural jester) was, as report tells me.  

WIll summers, borne in Shropshire, as some say,  
Was brought to Greenwich on a holy day,  
Presented to the King, which fool disdained  
To shake him by the hand; or else ashamed,  
How e'er it was, as ancient people say,  
With much ado was won to it that day.   

Lean he was, hollow eyed, as all report;  
And stoop he did too, yet in all the Court  
Few men were more beloved, then was this fool,  
Whose merry prate kept with the King much rule,  
When he was sad, the King and he would rhyme.  
Thus Will exiled sadness many a time.   

I could describe him, as I did the rest;  
But in my mind I do not think it best:  
My reason this, how e'er I do descry him,  
So many knew him, that I may belie him.  
Therefore to please all people one by one,  
I hold it best to let that pains alone.   

Only thus much, he was a poor man's friend,  
And helped the widow often in the end:  
The King would ever grant what he did crave;  
For well he knew Will, no exacting knave:  
But wished the King to do good deeds great store,  
Which caused the Court to love him more and more.    

How the merry fool, Will summers, brought his uncle to the King, and got him twenty pound a year.  
WIll summers, in no little credit in the King's Court, walking in the Park at green which, fell a sleep on the style that leads into the walk, and being many that would have gone that way, so much loved him, that they were loath to disease him, but went another way, I, the better sort: but do I make a wonder at that? who sooner than the better sort? for now adays beggars are the gallants, while Gentles of right blood seem tame Ruffians: but note the love that Will summers got: A poor woman seeing him sleep so dangerously, either to fall backward, or hurt his head leaning so against a post, fetched him a cushion & a rope; the one for his head, and the other to bind him to the post, for falling backward: and thus he slept, and the woman stood by, attending as groom of his chamber.  
It chanced so, that upon great occasion, as you shall after hear, Will summers uncle came out of Shropshire to seek him in the Court: a plain old man of threescore years, with a buttoned cap, a lockram falling band, course, but clean; a russet coat, a white belt of a horse hide, right horse-coller whitleather, a close round breech of russet sheep's wool, with a long stock of white kersey, a high shoe with yellow buckles, all white with dust; for that day the good old man had come three and twenty miles on footbacke and horseback.  
This kind old man coming up in his country's behalf, and coming into Gréenwitch, asked the way to the Court: every one directs him: but one villain Page directs him by the Court gate, to cross in a boat over to Blackwall, and told him that was the Court. The silly old man willingly paid his penny before hand, and was going over: but some that overheard their talk, hindered his journey, and laughed at the jest yet pitied his simplicity, and sets him the right way. When he came in and saw such a place, he was amazed and stood gazing: which the Guard and Gentlewomen in their windows had much sport to see: at last one asked him what he was?  
The old man answers, A poor Shropshire man, and demands if there were not a Gentleman in the Court dwelling, called by the name of M. William summers? (for the Country hearing him in favour in the Court, said he was so at least.) The Courtier answered, Hear is such a one indeed. For fault of a worse, says he, I am his uncle, & wept with joy that he should see him. Mary, says the man, I'll help you to him strait: for I tell you, not any in the Court durst but have sought him, which this man did, and it was told them, he was walked into the Park, while the King slept that hot day: thither went they to seek him.  
All this while my friend William was in counsel with the post, and the cushion stood as arbitrator betwixt them; and the woman by as a witness what was said and done: At last, came these two & wakened him. William feeling his head soft, What soft post is this, quoth he? A post of mine own making, says the woman. But she lost nothing by her good will: for ere she left Will summers, she got him to get her sons pardon of the King, who was to he hanged three days after for piracy: but by Will summers means he deceived the hangman. Thus and many good deeds he did to divers.  
The fool being wakened, looks about him, when he had thanked the woman, asked what news? Says the man, Sir, here is your uncle come out of the country to see you. God a mercy, cousin, says Will summers, I thank thee for thy labour, you cannot uncle me so. Yes truly, sir, I am your own dear uncle, M. William, and with that wept. Are you my uncle, says Will? I sir, says he. Are you my uncle, says he again? I sure, & verily too. But are you my uncle indeed? By my vows I am, says the old man. Then uncle, by my vows, welcome to the Court, says Will summers: but what make you here uncle? He up & tells his coming to him. William takes him by the hand, come, says he, thou shalt see Harry, uncle, the only Harry in England, and leads him through the Court, through the great Hall, and up the great Chamber, to the Chamber of Presence, and ever and anon cries, Aware, room for me and my uncle Williams, and knaves, bid him welcome. You are welcome, sir, says one: you are welcome, sir, says another, that the old man thought himself no earthly man, they honoured him so much.  
But Will ready to enter the Presence, looks on his uncle, and seeing him not fine enough to look on the King: Come uncle, says he, we will have this gear mended: leads him to his chamber, and attires him in his best tools coat, simply God wots, meaning well to him, and the simple old man as simply put it on, cap and all.  
Out they come, and up they came, and to the King they go, who being with the good Lord Treasurer alone merry, seeing them two, how Will had got an other fool, knew there was sport at hand. How now, says the King, what news with you? O Harry, says he, this is mine own uncle, bid him welcome, my own flesh and blood. Well, said the King, & he is welcome. Harry, says he, hear me tell thee a tale, & I will make thee rich, and my uncle shall be made rich by thee. William tells the King, how Terrils Frith was enclosed. Terrils Frith, says the King? what is that? Why, the Heath where I was borne, called by the name of Terrils Frith: now a gentleman of that name takes it all in, & makes all the people believe it is his; for it took the name from him: so that, Harry, the poor pine, and their cattle are all undone without thy help.  
And what should I do, says the King? Mary, says William, send to the Bishop of Hereford, he is a great man with Terrill, command him to set the Frith at liberty again, who is now imprisoned by his means.  
And how shall I be rich by that, says the King? The poor will pray for thee, says Will summers, and thou shalt be rich in heaven, for on earth thou art rich already. All this was done, & William's uncle went home, who while he lived, for that deed, was allowed Bayly of the Common, and his place was better than twenty pound a year.   

How this merry fool Will summers, to make the King merry, asked him three questions.  
Howsoever these three things came in memory, & are for mirth inserted into stage plays, I know not; but that Will summers asked them of the King, it is certain, there are some will affirm it now living in Greenwich. The King upon a time being extreme melancholy and full of passion, all that Will summers could do, would not make him merry. Ah, says he, this cloud must have a good shower to cleanse it; & with that goes behind the Arras. Harry (says he) I'll go behind the Arras, & study thee three questions, and come again: see therefore you lay aside this melancholy muse, & study to answer me. I (quoth the King) they will be wise ones, no doubt. At last, out comes William with his wit, as the fool of the play doth with an antic look, to please the beholders. Harry, says he, what is that the lesser it is, the more it is to he feared? The K. mused at it: but to grace the jest the better (for he was in that humour to grace good will, the excellentest Prince on the earth) the King made answer, he knew not. Will made answer, It was a little bridge over a deep river: at which he smilled, knowing it was fearful indeed. What is the next, William, says the King? Mary this is next, What is the cleanliest trade in the world? Mary, says the King, I think a Comfit-maker: for he deals with nothing but pure ware, & is attired clean in white linen when he sells it. No Harry, says Will, you are wide. What say you then, qd. the King? Mary, says Will, I say a durt-dauber. Out on it, says the King, that is the foulest; for he is dirty up to the elbows. I, says Will, but then he washes them clean again, & eats his meat cleanly enough. I promise thee (Will) says the K, thou hast a pretty foolsh wit. I, Harry, says he, it will serve to make a wiser man them you a fool, me thinks. At this the King laughed, & demands the third question. Now tell me, says Will, if you can, what it is, that being borne without life, head, nose, lip or eye, and yet runs terribly roaring through the world till it dies? This is a wonder, qd. the King, & no question, & I know it not. Why, quoth Will, it is a fart. At this the King laughed heartily, & was exceeding merry, and bids Will ask any reasonable thing, & he would grant it. Thanks, Harry, says he, now against I want, I know where to find, for yet I need nothing: but one day I shall: for every man sees his latter end, but know not his beginning. The King understood his meaning, and so pleasantly departed for that season, and Will lays him down amongst the Spaniels to sleep.   

How Will summers the merry fool borrowed ten pounds of Cardinal Wolsey, to pay where the Cardinal owed it.  
ON a time appointed, the King dined at Windsor, in the chapel yard, at Cardinal Wolsey's, at the same time when he was building the admired work of his tomb: at whose gate stood a number of poor people to be served of alms. When dinner was done within, and as Will past by, they saluted him, taking him for a worthy parsonage, which pleased him.  
In he comes, and finding the King at dinner, and the Cardinal by attending: to disgrace him that he never loved, Harry, says he, lend me ten pound. What to do, says the King? To pay three or four of the Cardinal's creditors, quoth he, to whom my word is past; and they are come now for their money. That thou shalt, Will, quoth he. Creditors of mine, says the Cardinal? I'll give your Grace my head, if any man can justly ask me a penny. No, says Will? lend me ten pounds, if I pay it not where thou owest it, I'll give thee twenty for it. Do so, says the King. That I will, my Liege, says the Cardinal, though I know I own none. With that he lends Will summers ten pound. Will goes to the gate, and distributes it to the poor, and brought the empty bag: there is thy bag again, says he, and thy creditors are satisfied, and my word out of danger.  
Who received it, says the King? the Brewer, or the Baker? Neither (Harry) says Will summers: But (Cardinal) answer me in one thing: To whom dost thou owe thy soul? To God (quoth he.) To whom thy wealth? To the poor, says he. Take thy forfeit (Harry) says the fool, open confession, open penance: his head is thine; for to the poor at the gate I paid his debt, which he yields is due: or if thy stony heart will not yield it so, save thy head by denying thy word, & lend it me: thou knowest I am poor, and have neither wealth nor wit, & what thou lendest to the poor, God will pay thee ten fold: he is my surety, arrest him; for by my troth hang me when I pay thee. The King laughed at the jest, and so did the Cardinal for a show, but it grieved him to jest away ten pound so: yet worse tricks than this Will summers served him after; for indeed he could never abide him; and the forfeiture of his head had like to have been paid, had he not poisoned himself.   

How this merry Fool Will summers eat a mess of Milk without a spoon.  
THere was in the time of Will summers, an other artificial jester or fool in the Court, whose subtlety heaped up wealth in rewards & gifts given him, which Will summers could never abide him for: but indeed, lightly one fool cannot endure the sight of another, as jacke Oates did the Minstrel in the flat fools story; and one beggar is woe, another by the door should go.  
This jester was a big man of a great voice, long black locks, and a very big round beard. On a time (of purpose) Will summers watched to disgrace him, when he was juggling and jesting before the King. Will summers brings up a mess of milk and a manchet: Harry (says he) lend me a spoon. Fool, says the jester, use thy hand: help hands, I have no lands; & means that saying would warrant his gross feeding. I, says Will summers, beasts will feed so, and beasts will bid other do, as they will do themselves. Will, says the King, thou knowest I have none. True, Harry (says he) I know that, therefore I ask thee: and I would (but for doing thee harm) thou hadst no tongue to grant that fool his next suit: but I must eat my cream some way. The King, the jester, and all gathers about him to see him eat it. Will gins thus to rhyme over his milk: 
This bit, Harry, I give to thee, and this next bit must serve for me,  
Both which I'll eat apace.  
This bit (Madam) unto you, and this bit I myself eat now,  
And all the rest upon thy face,   
Meaning the fool, in whose beard & head the bread and milk was thick sown, & his eyes almost put out. Will summers he gets him gone for fear. This lusty jester forgetting himself, in fury draws his dagger, & gins to protest. Nay, says the King, are ye so hot, clap him fast: and though he draws his dagger here, yet let him put it up in another place. The poor abused jester was jested out of countenance, & lay in durance a great while, till Will summers was fain to (after he had broke his head, to give him a plaster) get him out again: but never after came my juggler in the Court more, so near the King, being such a dangerous man to draw in the presence of.    

A very Fool  

❧ How john of the Hospital, the very fool, walked and preached in Paul's Church, and was bidden to dinner.  
THis innocent Idiot, that never harmed any, before I enter any further, I will let you understand in two words, how he came to be of the Hospital of Christ's Church: Some certain years since (but not a few years) there dwelled a poor blind woman in Bow lane in London, called by the name of blind Alice, who had this fool of a child to lead her, in whose house he would sit, either on the stairs, or in a corner, & sing Psalms, or preach to himself of Peter and Paul, because he delighted to go to Sermons with blind Alice, & heard the Preacher talk of them. It chanced the Worshipful of the City (good Benefactors to the poor) to take her into Christ's Hospital, with whom john went as a guide to lead her; who being old, after she died, he was to be turned out of door: but the City more desirous to pity, then to be cruel, placed him as a fostered fatherless child; and they did well in it too, seeing he was one of God's creatures, though some difference in persons.  
Well, to go forward in what I promised you: john went to S. Paul's Church in London, to meet with M. Nowell the Deane, whose bounty to him was great, & the tool knew it well enough, whom he would duly attend after his preaching; for ever he gave him at their meeting a groat, and he would bring it to his Nurse: Well, M. Deane preached not that day: whereupon john stands in a corner with boys flocking about him, and gins to preach himself, holding up his muckender for his book, and reads his text.  
It is written (says he) in the 3. chapter of Paul to the Corinthians, Brethren, you must not swear (for that was lightly all his text) then thus he gins: Whereas, or whereunto it is written: for because you must believe it: for surely else we are no Christians. Writ the sermon (boy) says he (as the Hospital boys do:) & then one must write on his hand, with his finger, and then he would go forward thus: The world is proud, and God is angry if we do not repent. Good friend give me a pin, or good friend give me a point, as it came in his mind: and so sucking up his drivel and breath together, would pray and make an end: which being done, who bids me home to dinner now, says john? The boys that knew his qualities, answers, that do I, john. Thank ye (friend) says he, & goes home to his own dwelling at Christ's Church. But at this time one wealthy merchants son, to make his father merry, bade him home to dinner indeed, & will be, or nill he, he must go with him: with much ado john went, & coming into the house, simply sits him down (as his use was) in the chimney corner. It was in Lent, when pease pottage bore great sway, & when every pease must have his ease. john beholding pease pottage on the fire, thoughr on his Nurse; for he was all saving for her: & when the room was empty, forgetting what his pocket was made of, though of leather, yet not sufficient; but a good help from further harm, as you shall hear: he seeing no body by, stopped to the pot, and put a great ladle of pottage into his pocket, and piteously burnt his thigh; and but that the leather was thick, it had been worse: for if it had been Canvas, it had spoiled all.  
john feeling something burn, leapt and cried: they ran in to see the matter why he cried, but more & more he exclaimed, I burn I burn, & got out of doors, and never leaves till he came to his Nurse, who quickly shifted him, & mended what was amiss. But the jest was to see the folks of the house, who wondering what he ailed, could not devise what the matter was: but a beggar in the entry, who beheld all, told the truth of the matter, who lost a good alms for his labour. But thus simple john by his own folly, died the inside of his pocket, pease pottage tawny, and set a good scarlet red upon his thigh.   

How john towled the Bell for his Nurse's Chicken.  
GAffer Homes being Sexton of Christ's Church, would often set john a work, to toll the bell to prayers or burials, wherein he delighted much: it chanced so, that coming through the church, and having nothing to do, seeing the bell so easy to come by, tolls it. The people (as the custom is) repairs to church (as they used) to know for whom it was. john answers them still, For his Nurse's chicken. They said, Wherefore tolls the bell, john? I know not. When died he? Even now. Who, john? who? My Nurse's chicken, quoth he, and laughs. This jest was known to every neighbour thereabouts, who sent to bid him leave tolling: but it was not his custom, till good man Homes took the rope from him, that gave the rope to him: though goodman Homes gave him one rope, he had forgotten that jacks wit was not so good, to remember any thing.  
Well, there stood jacke tolling from four a clock to six, goodman Homes being from home, who was not a little vexed at john's diligence: but he laid the rope ever after, where john could not reach it.   

How this very fool john of the Hospital, sold a gentleman's pair of boots for a groat, that cost the Cobbler five shillings.  
IOhn was of this humour, ask him what his coat cost him, he would say a groat: what his cap, band or shirt cost, all was a groat: ask what his beard cost, and still a groat: So one Friday morning there was a Gentleman to ride down into Warwickshire, about payment of twenty pound upon a bonds forfeiture: the time was next day by Sun set, it was no boot to bid him pull on his boots and be gone. Well, he made haste, and went to do it without bidding too, & yet for all his haste, his boots were seam-rent, and must have a stitch or two needs: he sends them to a Cobbler, next to Christ's Church gate in Newgate market, who was diligent to mend them strait: and as he had done, comes john of the Hospital to him (as his use was) to carry home his work, and he sends john home with the boots: As john was going through ivy lane, a Country fellow that knew him not, meets him, and seeing the boots, What shall I give thee for them, says he? john (who sold every thing for a groat) asked a groat, The fellow turns them & winds them upon that reasonable price, and seeing it was a good pennyworth, gives him a groat suddenly, and departs with the boots. john, who used to take a great of M. Deane, and would carry it to his Nurse, did so now with his money. She asked him where he had it? He said, For boots: but she not knowing his mind, forgot the jest, and tell to work again as he found her.  
The forfeiture of twenty pound so hammered in this Gentleman's head, that he thought every hour two, till he had his boots, and mused they came not from mending, sends for them presently. One comes sweeting, zounds (Cobbler) the boots; & being at work very busy, I, says he, they are mended and carried home. Another comes, Boots, boots. Would the boots were in your belly, quoth the Cobbler, once again they are gone home. By & by comes the gentleman in his white linen boot-hose ready to the purpose. A pox of lazy Cobblers, says he, my boots; shall I forfeit a bond for your pleasure? The Cobbler puts off his considering rap, why sir, says he, I sent them home but now. By whom, says he? By john, blue john, says the Cobbler. The gentleman he runs home one way, the Cobbler he another way: well, no boots were to be had: the gentleman he stayed, and the Cobbler he prayed; but all this while the boots delayed and came not.  
The Cobbler seeks john at his Nurses, thinking he forgot himself, and went home? well, true it was, & there he was indeed, who after the matter was examined, the boots were known to be sold by john for a groat. The Cobbler seeing no remedy, because the gentleman was in haste, gives him five shillings with a heavy hey he, and lost four shillings eight pence by the bargain: but the Cobbler would never let john carry home his ware more: nay, says the Cobbler, if my money can be booted and ride post it by five shillings at a time, it is no boot for me to say. utinam: but the next boots I'll make a page of my own age, and carry home myself: for I see fools will afford good pennyworth.   

How this very fool john, lost himself on Easter Monday at the Spittle Sermon, amongst all the people.  
ON Easter Monday the ancient custom is, that all the children of the Hospital go before my Lord Mayor to the Spittle, that the world may witness the works of God and man, in maintenance of so many poor people, the better to stir up living men's minds to the like good, if God should call them: amongst which, the children of the Hospital leads on; before whom, as chief Captain, goes john; whom to behold the people flock apace, and the weather being hot, their thrusting made john in such a hot temper, that he was extreme dry. john considering he was like to fast till dinner, yet keepeth on his rank till he came to the Spittle, where the cans did walk apace by his nose, but never came at him, which made him the more eager of drink. Well, while the children were placing, john stood to make water, & seeing a Gentleman's door open, slips in, and the household without, standing to see my Lord Mayor pass by, not regarded him: but he, whole nose had wit to smell good beer, got down into the Seller, & fell to it tipple square, till he was lost and quite drunk, & laid himself to sleep behind two barrels; & unseen slept all that day. In the Sermon time he was missed, sought and not found, inquired after, but he was a more fool that sought the fool. The afternoon came, the gentleman's Butler with other good fellows fell to carouse sound, till the Butler was laid up too: here was a Seller well fraught with fools: but all this while the Beadles failed not to search up & down the city; yea, the crier cried a man child of the age of two & thirty years; for at least he was so old, yet one says he had not wit enough to look to himself.  
But return we to the Seller: the two drunkards waked both together. john he calls, Nurse, Nurse: which the Butler (half awake) hearing, thought the devil had been playing bo peep with him: but when he looked & beheld him, he was amazed at it, imagining how it was, and so secretly sent him to the Hospital, lest he were blamed for his negligence in looking to the door no better the day before.  
A number of things more john did, which I omit, fearing to be tedious: not long after he died, and was old; for his beard was full of white hairs, as his picture in Christ's Hospital (now to be seen) can witness: buried he i● is, but with no Epitaph. Me thinks, those that in his life time could afford him his picture, might with his grave yield so much as four lives, that people may see where he lies, whom they so well knew: and if I might persuade, his Motto should be thus, and to this effect: 
Hear under sleeps blue john, that gives  
Food to feed worms, yet he not lives:  
You that pass by, look at his grave,  
And say, yourselves the like must have.  
Wise men and fools all one end makes:  
Gods will be done, who gives and takes.   
Thus (Gentlemen) as the kind Hostess salutes her guests, saying, You see your cheer, and you are welcome: Even to say I, desiring that you will pardon my folly, in writing of folly: which folly can no way be excused but by your favour: so as Caesar said, Veni, vidi, vici: I am bold to busy your brain with any dark Enigma. Wherefore if my pardon may be purchased, then so: if not, the worst is, you will say the Author may keep his six fools company.   
FINIS.