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 result in dismissal from the University. 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 
 

V 
 
 
Jtfltscellattea &ttttqua Sitgltcana; 
 
 OR A 
 
 SELECT COLLECTION 
 
 OF 
 
 CURIOUS TRACTS, 
 
 ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE HISTORY, LITERATURE, MANNERS, 
 AND BIOGRAPHY, 
 
 OF 
 
 THE ENGLISH NATION. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY T. BENSLEY AND SON, 
 
 Dolt Court , Fleet Street ; 
 
 FOR ROBERT TRIPHOOK, 23 , OLD BOND STREET. 
 1816. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2016 
 
 https://archive.org/details/miscellaneaantiq117unse 
 
ARRANGEMENT AND CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 
 ✓ 
 
 C 
 
 . 
 
 M 
 
 li’ 
 
 s' 
 
 
 ■51 
 
 iiJL 
 
 1. Some Particulars of the Life and Death of David Rizzio. 
 
 With a Portrait . 
 
 2. Account of the Quarrel between Arthur Hall and Melchisedech 
 
 Mallerie. 1579- 
 
 3. Account of The Christmas Prince, as it was exhibited in the 
 
 University of Oxford in the year 1607. 
 
 4. Old Meg of Herefordshire for a Maid Marian, and Hereford 
 
 Town for a Morris Dance. 1609. 
 
 5. The Cold Yeare 1614. 
 
 6. The Life of Long Meg of Westminster. 1635. 
 
 7. Hist or ie of Fryer Bacon. 
 
 334937 
 

 
 
 
 * 
 
 
SOME 
 
 PARTICULARS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 DAVID RICCIO, 
 
 CHIEF FAVOURITE OF 
 
 MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS. 
 
 TO WHICH IS ADDED 
 
 THE RELATION OF HIS DEATH, 
 
 WRITTEN BY THE 
 
 LORD RUTHEN, 
 
 ONE OF THE PRINCIPALS CONCERNED IN THAT ACTION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR ROBERT TRIPHOOK, 
 
 37, st. james’s street. 
 
 1815. 
 

ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The following particulars respecting David Riccio have 
 been collected from Buchanan, Sir James Melville, and 
 other cotemporary writers, as a proper appendage to 
 the curious and interesting portrait of this minion of 
 fortune, which is now for the first time engraved. 
 The original picture, of the same size, is in the collection 
 of Constantine Jennings, Esq. by whose liberal and 
 kind indulgence it was permitted to be engraved ex- 
 pressly for this work. The artist, Mr. Wilkin, has 
 succeeded in giving a very accurate copy, and seized 
 the character of the head in a most skilful manner. It 
 appears to have been the work of a Venetian artist of 
 no mean degree of skill; and in its style and colouring 
 partakes of the manner of Zucchero in his smaller por- 
 traits. That it is a faithful and genuine representation 
 of this favourite of the unfortunate Mary, there is no 
 reason to doubt, although it is now impossible to trace 
 the collection from whence it was obtained : it was pur- 
 chased by Mr. Jennings from a picture-dealer many 
 years since, and had been picked up in an obscure part 
 of the northern metropolis. It is painted on a small 
 circular panel ; and on the back are rudely cut into the 
 wood the name Davit Rixio , and the date 1564 . The 
 mode in which the name is spelt is accordant with the 
 Venetian method of orthography, in which the x is fre- 
 quently substituted for the z or c. Whether Mary added 
 to her other frailties that of a criminal intercourse with 
 this man may be doubted ; but by her partiality, and the 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 incaution of her conduct, she gave rise to surmises and 
 reports, which made this object of her favours odious, 
 and furnished a pretext for his assassination. The 
 curious and uncommon relation of Lord Ruthen, the 
 publisher received unsolicited from the kindness of a 
 gentleman to him an entire stranger; and as it forms no 
 part of any of the collections respecting Mary, it was 
 deemed worthy of a place in this miscellany. It is 
 much to be regretted that the orthography of the time 
 in which it was undoubtedly written, has not been pre- 
 served by the transcriber. 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OF 
 
 DAVID RICCIO. 
 
 D AVID RICCIO, (a name celebrated in the annals of the 
 early part of the reign of Mary, Queen of Scots, and who 
 may be justly said to have been the primary cause of all her 
 subsequent misfortunes) was born at Turin: his father sup- 
 ported his family by teaching the elements of music, and having 
 no patrimony to leave them, he made them musicians. David 
 at an early period of his life went to Nice, where the Duke of 
 Savoy, who had lately been restored to his dominions, kept his 
 court. This not answering his expectations, he was reduced to 
 great distress, and in this dilemma, became known to the Count 
 de Moretti, who was then (as the Duke's envoy) preparing for his 
 journey into Scotland, and he accompanied him thither. Shortly 
 after his arrival, the Count having but a small allowance to 
 support his character of envoy, looked upon his services as unne- 
 cessary, and dismissed him. He resolved however to make some 
 stay, and try his fortune again, to which he was encouraged by 
 
4 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 hearing, that the Queen took great delight in music, and was not 
 altogether unskilful herself. To make his way to her presence, 
 he made interest with the musicians (who were for the most part 
 French) that he might appear amongst them. The Queen had 
 three of them who sung three parts, and wanted a bass to sing the 
 fourth, and being told of Riccio as a proper person, he w as ad- 
 mitted to sing before her, and w r as so much approved of, as to be 
 immediately added to their number. Having thus established 
 himself, he so complied with the Queen’s humour, that partly by 
 flattery, and partly by undermining others, he grew high in her 
 favour; and on her French Secretary retiring to his native country, 
 he was appointed to the office, and by that means had a fair pre- 
 text for private converse w T ith the Queen. 
 
 As he thereby entered into greater credit, he had not the pru- 
 dence to conduct himself rightly in his new office, for frequently, 
 in presence of the Nobles, he would publicly speak to her even 
 during the greatest conventions of the states. This sudden 
 advancement from a low estate to so much power and dignity, 
 combined w r itli his arrogance, contempt of his equals, and con- 
 tention w ith his superiors, afforded sufficient matter of discourse 
 for the people. This was much increased by the flattery of some 
 of the nobility, who sought his friendship, courted him, admired 
 his judgment, waiting upon him at his apartment, and presenting 
 themselves in his way on every occasion. But the Earl of Murray, 
 with some others, expressed their dislike of him in so open a 
 manner, as to offend the Queen no less than Riccio. In order to 
 have a support against the hatred of the chief of the Nobility, 
 Riccio courted with great assiduity Henry Lord Darnley, and got 
 into so familiar an acquaintance with him, as to be admitted to 
 his chamber, and to be trusted in his most private affairs. Riccio 
 persuaded him that it was by his means chiefly that the Queen bad 
 been induced to think of him for her husband. He Was also 
 instrumental in promoting dissention betwixt Darnley and the 
 Earl of Murray, flattering himself that if once rid of the Earl, he 
 might take his full career without opposition. About this time 
 the Queen’s intended marriage with Darnley, and his private 
 meetings with her, as also her too great familiarity with Riccio, 
 
DAVID RICCIO. 
 
 5 
 
 were talked of and censured by all ranks. The Earl of Murray 
 finding that the advice he gave served only to irritate the Queen 
 against him, resolved to leave the court that he might not be 
 thought to be the author of what was acted there. Sir James 
 Melville in his Memoirs, mentions the following conversation 
 which took place between him and Riccio, about this time, in which 
 he lamented the state in which he was placed, and asked Sir 
 James’s advice. “ I told him that strangers were commonly 
 “ envied when they meddled too much in the affairs of other 
 “ countries. He said 1 he being Secretary to her Majesty in the 
 “ French tongue, had occasion thereby to be frequently in her 
 “ Majesty’s company, as her former Secretary used to do.’ I 
 u answered again, that it was thought that the greatest part of the 
 <( affairs of the country passed through his hands, which gave 
 “ offence to the nobility. I advised him in their presence to 
 “ retire from the Queen, giving them place : and that he might 
 “ desire the Queen to permit him to take that way. I told him 
 “ for an example, how I had been in so great favour with the 
 “ Elector Palatine, that he caused me to sit at his own table, and 
 “ that he used frequently to confer with me in presence of his 
 “ whole court, whereat divers of them took great indignation 
 “ against me, which so soon as I perceived, I requested him to 
 “ permit me to sit from his own table with the rest of his gen- 
 “ tlemen, and no more to confer with me in their presence, but to 
 u call me by a page to his chamber, when he had any service to 
 “ command me: seeing otherwise, he would prejudge himself and 
 “ me, both by giving ground of discontent to his subjects, in too 
 u much noticing a stranger, and so expose me to their fury. 
 “ Which I obtained, and that way my Master was not hated, nor 
 u I any more envied. I advised him to take the like course, if he 
 u was resolved to act as a wise man. Which council he said he 
 <{ was resolved to follow; but afterwards told me that the Queen 
 u would not suffer him, but would needs have him carry himself 
 “ as formerly. I answered, that I was sorry for the incon- 
 u veniencies that might follow thereupon.” 
 
 Riccio is accused by Buchanan, of being concerned in the 
 conspiracy to assassinate the Earl of Murray, and which was 
 
6 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 prevented by the information he received from his friends. Not- 
 withstanding the Earl had resolved to go, and was only prevented 
 by receiving a second admonition from Lord Ruthen, which 
 induced him to alter his intention, and turn aside on a visit to 
 his mother near Loch Leven. 
 
 In the mean time Riccio left nothing unattempted to pre- 
 cipitate the marriage of the Queen with Lord Darnley, which 
 took place at the end of July, without the consent, and greatly 
 to the dissatisfaction of many of the Scotish Nobility, and par- 
 ticularly to the English court. 
 
 The offence given by this conduct induced many to leave the 
 court, and Riccio finding the chiefs of the Nobility had with- 
 drawn, that he might confirm his intemperate hopes of power, 
 excited the Queen to use the coercive power of the sword against 
 the heads of the several parties, assuring her that if a few were 
 removed, the rest would not venture to attempt any thing. But 
 considering that the Queen’s guards being Scotchmen, would not 
 easily consent to the murder of the Nobility, he made it his 
 business to remove them from that post, and introduce foreigners 
 in their room. The first proposition was to have Germans for 
 that service, that nation being of remarkable loyalty to their 
 princes; but when Riccio had attentively considered, he con- 
 cluded, that for better carrying on his designs, Italians should be 
 admitted to that employment, being persuaded that men of the 
 same nation with himself would not only be more at his devotion, 
 but the most proper instruments for his purpose, who making 
 no distinction between what is just and unjust, might easily be 
 induced to perpetrate any kind of villainy. 
 
 As his power and authority with the Queen continued on the 
 increase, so the King became daily more contemptible, and to 
 treat him with yet greater indignity, Riccio was substituted to 
 sign divers public acts, and to impress the King’s seal on them. 
 The Queen not contenting herself with having thus raised him 
 from the meanest obscurity, devised another way of honouring 
 him in a domestic and more familiar manner. She had for 
 some months admitted more persons than had been usual at her 
 table, that he might have a place there with less envy, on account 
 
DAVID RICCIO. 
 
 7 
 
 of the number of those who received that honour. At last it 
 came to this, that Riccio with only one or two more sat at table 
 w r ith her r and in some measure to diminish the appearance, they 
 sometimes eat in a little closet, and sometimes in his chamber. 
 But instead of lessening the public odium by these means, it did 
 but increase the reflections, confirmed former suspicions, afforded 
 matter for further discourse, and inclined men to believe the worst. 
 Riccio was also said to surpass the King in rich furniture, apparel, 
 number and goodness of his horses, which indignity seemed the 
 greater, because his face and manner contributed more to destroy 
 the effect of every ornament about him, than any of these ad- 
 vantages served to grace his person. The Queen since she could 
 not correct these faults of nature, endeavoured by heaping honours 
 upon him to cover the meanness of his birth with the lustre of 
 dignity and promotion, by raising him to the rank of Nobility, 
 and by that means giving him a right of voting in the public 
 assemblies, that he might be enabled to manage the councils as 
 she might direct. And because it was thought necessary to ad- 
 vance gradually in putting this scheme into execution, the first 
 attempt was made upon a Lordship, situated near Edinburgh* 
 called Melvill. The possessor, Lord Ross, with his father-in-law, 
 and such friends as were supposed to have most influence with 
 him, were sent for to the Queen, who endeavoured to prevail on 
 him to part with his right, and to induce his friends to persuade 
 him to it. But this not succeeding to her wish, the Queen 
 interpreted the refusal as a personal affront, and what was more to 
 be dreaded, Riccio was himself highly offended. These pro- 
 ceedings could not be concealed from the people, who were led to 
 believe that greater evils would follow, if men of the most ancient 
 and honourable families were to be expelled from their possessions 
 at the will of the Queen, to gratify a foreign adventurer. 
 
 To these things men in private discourses added many more 
 respecting the Queen's private interviews with Riccio. But the 
 King resolved to credit nothing without ocular demonstration; 
 and being informed one evening that Riccio was gone into the 
 Queen's chamber, he went to the private door, the key of which 
 he carried about him, and contrary to custom found it fastened on 
 
8 
 
 MEMOIR, &C, 
 
 the inside; he knocked, and no one answering, he departed, and 
 agitated by the most violent passions, passed the greater part of 
 the night without sleep. 
 
 From this time the King’s hatred increased daily, and this com- 
 bined with the arrogance of Riccio, precipitated the plot which 
 led to his assassination; the particulars of which, and the pro- 
 ceedings previous to it, are detailed in the following pages by 
 Lord Ruthven (or Ruthen as himself writes it) and who as one of 
 the principal actors, must have been fully qualified to give a 
 correct account. — The relation of it by Sir James Melville in his 
 Memoirs, differs from it only in some few trifling circumstances. 
 
A 
 
 RELATION 
 
 OF THE 
 
 BE A TH 
 
 OF 
 
 DAVID RICCIO. 
 
 HE author of this relation, Lord Rut hen , at 
 the age of forty-six, was visited by the hand 
 of God with great trouble and sickness, 
 whereby he kept his bed continually by the 
 space of three months, and was under the 
 cure of physicians, as of the Queers French 
 doctor, Dr. Preston , and Thomas Thompson , 
 apothecary; and was so feebled and weakened 
 through the sickness and medicines, that scarcely he might walk 
 twice the length of his chamber unsitting down. During this time 
 the King conceived hatred against an Italian called David Riccio ; 
 and about the 10th day of February sent his dear friend and kinsman 
 George Douglas , son to Archibald , sometime Earl of Angus , and de- 
 clared to Lord Ruthen , how that the said David Riccio had abused 
 him in many sorts, and lately had stayed the Queen’s Majesty from 
 giving him the crown matrimonial of Scotland, which her Majesty 
 had promised to him divers times before: besides many other wrongs 
 
 c 
 
10 
 
 A RELATION OF THE 
 
 that David had done to him, which he could not bear with longer, 
 and behoved to be revenged thereof. And because the Lord 
 Ruthen was one of the nobility that he confided and trusted most 
 unto, in respect that his children and he were sisters’ children; 
 therefore he desired his counsel and advice what way was best to 
 be revenged on David. The Lord Ruthen hearing the message 
 aforesaid, gave answer to George Douglas f that he could give no 
 counsel in that matter, in respect he knew the King’s youth and 
 facility; for he had sundry of the nobility that had given him 
 counsel for his own honour and weal, and immediately he revealed 
 the same again to the Queen’s Majesty, who reproved them with 
 great anger and contumelious words ; so that he would have no 
 meddling with the King’s proceedings until the time he could 
 keep his own counsel. The said George departed with the answer 
 about the 12th of February. The King, hearing the answer, 
 was very miscontented, and said, it is a sore case that I can 
 get none of the nobility that will assist me against yonder false 
 villain Davie. George Douglas answered, the fault w r as in your- 
 self, that cannot keep your own counsel. Then the King took 
 a book and swore thereon, that what counsel soever the Lord 
 Ruthen should give him, he would not reveal, neither to the 
 Queen’s Majesty, nor to any others ; and immediately directed 
 George to him again, declaring what oath the King bad made. 
 Notwithstanding the Lord Ruthen was eight days after ere he 
 would give any counsel therein ; howbeit the King sent George 
 Douglas to him every day three or four times. After eight days 
 were past, w r hich was toward the 20th day of February, the Lord 
 Ruthen perceiving that the King’s whole intent was but only the 
 slaughter of Davie , resolved in his mind, and considered that he 
 had a good time to labour for certain of the nobility, bis brethren, 
 that were banished in the realm of England and in Argyle; and 
 specially the Earls of Argile , Murray , Glencarn } and Rothes; the 
 Lords Boyd and Ochellrie y and the Lairds of Pittarro and Grange , 
 with many other gentlemen and barons. Wherefore so soon as 
 the said George was directed again from the King to him, he 
 answered, that he could not meddle with the King’s affairs, 
 without that he w ould bring home the noblemen before rehearsed 
 
DEATH OF DAVID RICCIO. 
 
 11 
 
 who were banished only for the word of God. And after long 
 reasoning, and divers days travelling, the King was contented 
 they should come home into the realm of Scotland ; so that the 
 Lord Ruthen would make him sure that they would be his, and set 
 forward all his affairs. He gave answer to the King, and bad him 
 make his own security, and that he should cause it to be subscribed 
 by the aforesaid earls, lords, and barons. Immediately thereafter 
 the King directed George Douglas to Lord Ruthen with certain 
 articles, which he desired him to put in form of writing, to be 
 subscribed by the lords banished ; the which he caused to be put 
 in form. And having consideration that the King desired them 
 to be bound to him, he caused to be drawn certain articles in the 
 said lords names for the King’s part towards them; which the 
 King himself reformed with his own hand. 
 
 The articles being penned for both parties, and the King reading 
 and considering the same, he was contented therewith, and sub- 
 scribed his part, and delivered it to the Lord Ruthen , who sent 
 the other articles to the Earl of Murray, and the remanent being 
 within England; and to the Earl of Argile , and the remanent 
 being with him in the west, who subscribed the same, and sent 
 them to Lord Ruthen to be kept till their meeting with the King, 
 and every one to have their own part; the tenour whereof fol- 
 io weth. 
 
12 
 
 A RELATION OF THE 
 
 Certain Articles to be fulfilled by James , Earl of Murray, Archi- 
 bald, Earl of Argile, Alexander Earl of Glencarne , Andrew, 
 Earl of Rothes, Robert Lord Boyd, Andrew Lord Ocheltrie, 
 and their Complices, to the noble and mighty Prince Henry, 
 King of Scotland, husband to our sovereign Lady : which Articles 
 the said Persons offer with most humility, lowliness, and service 
 to the said noble Prince, for whom to God they pray, #c. 
 
 Imprimis , Y V ''HE said earls, lords, and their complices, shall 
 JL become, and by the tenour hereof become true 
 subjects, men and servants, to the noble and mighty Prince 
 Henry, by the grace of God, king of Scotland, and husband to 
 our sovereign lady : that they and all others that will do for them, 
 shall take a loyal and true part with the said noble Prince in all his 
 actions, causes, and quarrels, against whomsoever, to the utter- 
 most of their powers ; and shall be friends to his friends, and 
 enemies to his enemies, and neither spare their lives, lands, goods, 
 nor possessions. 
 
 2. Item, The said earls, lords, and their complices, shall, at 
 the first parliament, and other parliaments that shall happen to be 
 after their returning within this realm, by themselves and others 
 that have voice in parliament, consent, and by these presents do 
 consent now as then, and then as now, to grant and give the crown 
 matrimonial to the said noble Prince for all the days of his life. 
 And if any person or persons withstand or gainsay the same, the 
 said earls, lords, and their complices, shall take such part as the 
 said noble Prince taketh, in whatsoever sort, for the obtaining of 
 the said crown, against all, and whatsoever that let or deny, as 
 shall best please the said noble Prince. 
 
 3. Item , The said earls, lords, and their complices, shall for- 
 tify and maintain the said noble Prince in his just title to the 
 crown of Scotland, failing of succession of our sovereign Lady, 
 and shall justify and set forward the same at their utmost powers. 
 And if any manner of person will usurp or gainsay the just title, 
 then the said earls, lords, and their complices, shall maintain, 
 
DEATH OF DAY1D R1CCI0. 
 
 13 
 
 defend, and set forwards the same, as best shall please the said 
 noble Prince, without fear of life or death ; and shall seek and 
 pursue them the usurpers, as shall please the said noble Prince to 
 command, to extirp them out of the realm of Scotland, or take 
 or slay them. 
 
 4. Item , As to the religion which was established by the Queen’s 
 Majesty our Sovereign, shortly after her arrival in this realm, 
 whereupon acts and proclamation was made, and now again 
 granted by the said noble Prince to the said earls, lords, and their 
 complices; they, and every of them, shall maintain and fortify 
 the same at their uttermost powers, by the help, supply, and 
 maintenance of the said noble Prince. And if any person or 
 persons will gainsay the same, or any part thereof, or begin to 
 make tumult or uproar for the same, the said earls, lords, and 
 their complices, to take a full, true, and plain part with the said 
 noble Prince, against the said contemners and usurpers, at their 
 uttermost. 
 
 5. Item , As they are become true subjects, men and servants, 
 to the said noble Prince, so shall they be loyal and true to his 
 Majesty, as becometh true subjects to their natural Prince ; and 
 as true and faithful servants serve their good master with their 
 bodies, lands, goods, and possessions; and shall neither spare life 
 nor death in setting forward all things that may be to the ad- 
 vancement and honour of the said noble Prince. 
 
 6. Item, The said earls, lords, and their complices, shall labour 
 at the Queen of England's hands for the relief of the said noble 
 Prince, his mother, and brother, by themselves and such others 
 as they may procure, to the uttermost of their power, that they 
 may be relieved out of ward, or remain in England freely, or 
 repair into Scotland, as they shall think most expedient, without 
 stop or impediment to herself, her Son, their servants and move*- 
 ables. 
 
 7. Item , The said earls, lords, and their complices, shall, by 
 themselves and others that will do for them, labour and procure, 
 at the Queen of England's hands, that the said noble Prince may 
 have her kindness, good-will, and assistance in all his Majesty’s 
 honourable and just causes, against whatsoever foreign prince. 
 
14 
 
 A RELATION OF THE 
 
 Certain Articles to be fulfilled by the noble and mighty Prince 
 Henry , King of Scotland , husband to our sovereign Lady, of 
 his Majesty's mere clemency and good-will, to James, Earl of 
 Murray, Archibald, Earl of Argile, Alexander, Earl of Glen - 
 came, Andrew , Earl of Rothes, Robert Lord Boyd, Andrew 
 Lord Stuart, of Ocheltrie, remaining in England, fyc. 
 
 Item, TTMRST, The said noble Prince shall do his good-will to 
 I obtain them one remission, if they require the same, 
 for all faults and crimes by-past, of whatsoever quality or con- 
 dition they be. And if that cannot be obtained at the first time, 
 shall persevere in suing of the same until it be obtained ; and at 
 the last shall give them a free remission of all crimes so soon as 
 we are placed, by their help and supply, to the crown matrimonial: 
 And in the mean time shall stop and make impediments, so much 
 as lieth in us, that they be not called nor accused for whatsoever 
 crime : And presently remits and forgives the aforesaid earls, lords, 
 and their complices, all crimes committed against us, of whatsoever 
 quality or condition they be; and do bury and put the same in 
 oblivion, as they had never been : And shall receive them at their 
 returning, thankfully, and with heartiness, as others our true and 
 faithful subjects and servants. 
 
 2. Item, We shall not suffer, by our good wills, the foresaid 
 lords and their complices, to be called or accused in parliament, 
 nor suffer any forfeitures to be laid against them, but shall stop 
 the same at our uttermost power: And if any person or persons 
 pretend otherwise, we shall neither consent to the holding the 
 parliament, nor yet shall grant to their forfeiture willingly, but 
 shall stop the same to our uttermost power, as said is. 
 
 3. Item, That the said earls, lords, and their complices, re- 
 turning within the realm of Scotland, we shall suffer or permit 
 them to use and enjoy all their lands, tackes, steedings, and 
 benefices, that they or any of them had before their passage into 
 England. And if any manner of persons do make them impe- 
 
DEATH OF DAVID RICCIO. 
 
 15 
 
 diments in the peaceable enjoying of the said lands, steedings, 
 tackes, benefices, and possessions, it being made known to us, we 
 shall fortify and maintain them to the uttermost of our powers, to 
 the obtaining of the same. 
 
 4. Item , As to the said earls, lords, and their complices religion, 
 we are contented and consent that they use the same, conform to 
 the Queen’s Majesty’s act and proclamation made thereupon, 
 shortly after her Highness’s return out of France. And if any 
 person or persons pretend to make them impediment thereunto, 
 or to trouble them for using the same religion, we shall take part 
 with the aforesaid earls, lords, and their complices, at our uttermost 
 power. And after their returning, upon their good bearing and 
 service to be done to the said noble Prince, shall, by their advice, 
 consent to the stablishing the religion now professed, and shall 
 concur with them, if any persons do withstand them. 
 
 Item , We shall fortify and maintain the said earls, lords, and 
 their complices, as a natural Prince should do to his true and 
 obedient subjects; and as one good master should fortify and 
 maintain his true and natural servants against whatsoever, in all 
 their just causes, actions, and quarrels. 
 
 All this while the King kept secret from the Queen’s Majesty 
 the whole proceedings ; and as her Majesty sought by subtil means 
 to learn of him what was in his mind, so crafted he with her to 
 seek out her mind : And in the same time he daily sent to the 
 Lord Ruthen, saying that he could not abide Davie any longer ; 
 and if his slaughter was not hastened, he would slay him himself, 
 yea, though it w r ere in the Queen’s Majesty’s own chamber. The 
 Lord Ruthen counselled him to the contrary, and thought it 
 not decent that he should put hand on such a mean person : yet 
 always the King could not be content, without the Lord Ruthen 
 affixed a day when Davie should be slain. The said Lord 
 considering with himself that it was not convenient nor honourable 
 to slay Davie , notwithstanding the offences he had made; but 
 rather to take him, and give him judgment by the nobility, the 
 King’s Majesty answered, it was cumbersome to tarry in such 
 a cause; but always he could be contented that he were taken and 
 
16 
 
 A RELATION OF THE 
 
 hanged, or dispatched otherwise. In the mean time the King and 
 Queen's Majesties rode to Seaton; the King so burning in his 
 desire towards the slaughter of David , that he sent divers privy 
 writings written in his own hand, and also messages by tongue to 
 George Douglas, to be shewed to the Lord Ruthen , to have all 
 things in readiness against his repairing to Edinburgh towards the 
 slaughter of David , or otherwise he would put the same in exe- 
 cution with his own hands. In the mean time Lord Ruthen was 
 practising with the Earl of Morton , who was the King's near 
 kinsman, and with the Lord Lindsey , because his wife was a 
 Douglas , and of consanguinity to the King; and with a great 
 number of barons, gentlemen, and freeholders, to assist the King 
 in such affairs as he had to do ; and then they should have their 
 religion freely established conformable to Christ's book, and to 
 the articles the King had subscribed to the lords. And after the 
 King's return out of Seaton, he directed George Douglas to the 
 Earl of Morton and Lord Ruthen , to see what day should be 
 appointed, with place and time, for the performance of the 
 enterprise against David. The said earl and lord sent answer to 
 the King, and declared they should have a sufficient number ready 
 against Friday or Saturday the 8th or 9th of March, to do what he 
 pleased; and enquired of the King what time he would have it the 
 ratherest performed; for, according to their opinion, they thought 
 it best to take time when David should be in his own chamber in 
 the morning, or in passing through the close: which the King 
 refused simpliciter, and said he could not be well taken in his own 
 chamber, nor no time in the morning, by reason that at night he 
 tarried late with the Queen's Majesty : he lay in the over cabinet, 
 and otherwhiles in Signior Francisco’s chamber, and sometimes in 
 his own, to which he had sundry back-doors and windows that he 
 might escape at ; and if so it were, all were lost. Therefore he 
 would have him taken at the time of the supping, sitting with her 
 Majesty at the table, that he might be taken in her own presence; 
 because she had not entertained him her husband according to her 
 accustomed manner, nor as she ought of duty. To the which the 
 said earl and lords were very loth to grant, and gave many reasons 
 to the contrary, that it was better to have been done out of her 
 
DEATH OF DAVID RICCIO. 
 
 17 
 
 presence, not in the same. Notwithstanding no reason might 
 avail, but the King would have him taken in her Majesty’s pre- 
 sence, and devised the manner himself, as after followeth : That 
 upon the Saturday at supper-time, the Earl of Morton, Lord 
 Ruthen, and Lord Lindsey, should have ready so many as would 
 be assistants and partakers with the King, in their houses, against 
 he should send them word: and so soon as he sent them word, that 
 the Earl of Morton should come in, and come up to the Queen’s 
 utter chamber, and a company with him ; and the Lord Ruthen was 
 to come through the King’s secret chamber ; and that the King 
 would pass up before by a privy passage to the Queen’s chamber, 
 and open the door, through which the Lord Ruthen and his com- 
 pany might enter ; and that the King himself should be speaking 
 with the Queen’s Majesty sitting at supper ; the remanent barons 
 and gentlemen to be in the court of the palace for keeping of the 
 gates, and defending of the close, in case any of the Lords or 
 officers would endeavour to gain -stand the King’s enterprize. The 
 Earl of Morton and Lord Ruthen having consideration of the 
 King’s devise towards the taking of Davie in the Queen’s Majesty’s 
 chamber, were loth to grant thereto ; yet the King would not 
 otherwise, but have it done as he had devised. The earl and lords 
 considering he was a young Prince, and having a lusty Princess 
 to lie in his arms afterwards, who might perswade him to deny all 
 that was done for his cause, and to alledge that others persuaded 
 him to the same, thought it necessary to have security thereupon: 
 and a band was made in the King’s name to the earls, lords, barons, 
 freeholders, merchants, and craftsmen, declaring all that was to be 
 done was his own devise, invention, and fact; and bound and 
 obliged himself, his heirs and successors, to them, their heirs and 
 successors, to keep them skathless, and unmolested or troubled for 
 the taking and executing of Davie in the Queen’s presence or 
 otherwise, like as the band specified hereafter word by word. 
 
 “ Be it kend to all men by these present letters: We, Henry, by 
 the grace of God, King of Scotland, and husband to the Queen’s 
 Majesty ; for so much we having consideration of the gentle and 
 good nature, with many other good qualities in her Majesty, we 
 have thought pity, and also think it great conscience to us that are 
 
 D 
 
18 
 
 A RELATION OF THE 
 
 her husband, to suffer her to be abused or seduced by certain privy 
 persons, wicked and ungodly, not regarding her Majesty’s honour, 
 ours, nor the nobility thereof, nor the common-weal of the same, 
 but seeking their own commodity and privy gains, especially a 
 stranger Italian called Davie: which may be the occasion of her 
 Majesty’s destruction, ours, the nobility, and commonweal, without 
 hasty remedy be put thereto, which we are willing to do : and to 
 that effect we have devised to take these privy persons, enemies 
 to her Majesty, us, the nobility, and commonwealth, to punish 
 them according to their demerits ; and in case of any difficulty, 
 to cut them off immediately, and to take and slay them wherever 
 it happeneth. And because we cannot accomplish the same 
 without the assistance of others, therefore have we drawn certain 
 of our nobility, earls, lords, barons, freeholders, gentlemen, mer- 
 chants, and craftsmen, to assist us in our enterprise, which cannot 
 be finished without great hazard. And because it may chance 
 that there be sundry great personages present, who may endeavour 
 to gain-stand our enterprise, where-through some of them may 
 be slain, and likewise of ours, where-through a perpetual feud 
 maybe contracted betwixt the one and the other; therefore we 
 bind and oblige us, our heirs, and successors, to the said earls, 
 lords, barons, gentlemen, freeholders, merchants, and craftsmen, 
 their heirs and successors, that we shall accept the same feud upon 
 us, and fortify and maintain them at the uttermost of our power, 
 and shall be friend to their friends, and enemy to their enemies ; 
 and shall neither suffer them nor theirs to be molested nor troubled 
 in their bodies, lands, goods, nor possessions, so far as lieth in us. 
 And if any person would take any of the said earls, lords, barons, 
 gentlemen, freeholders, merchants, or craftsmen, for enterprizing 
 and assisting with us for the atehieving of our purpose, because it 
 may chance to be done in presence of the Queen’s Majesty, or 
 within her palace of Holyrood-house, we, by the word of a prince, 
 shall accept and take the same on us now as then, and then as 
 now ; and shall warrant and keep harmless the foresaid earls, lords, 
 barons, freeholders, gentlemen, merchants, and craftsmen, at our 
 utter power. In witness whereof we have subscribed this with 
 our own hand at Edinburgh, the 1st of March lo65. 
 
DEATH OF DAVID RICCIO. 
 
 19 
 
 Upon Saturday the 9th day of March, as is conform to the 
 King’s ordynance and device, the Earl Morton , Lords Ruthen and 
 Lindsey, having their men and friends in readiness, abiding for 
 the Kipg’s advertisement; the King having supped, and the sooner 
 for that cause, and the Queen’s Majesty being in her cabinet 
 within her inner chamber at the supper, the King sent to the said 
 earl and lords, and their complices; and desired them to make 
 haste and come into the palace, for he should have the door of the 
 privy passage open, and should be speaking with the Queen before 
 their coming, conform to his device rehearsed before. Then the 
 Earl of Morton , Lord Ruthen and Lord Lindsey , with their com- 
 plices, passed up to the Queen’s utter chamber; and the Lord 
 Ruthen passed in through the King’s chamber, and up through 
 the privy way to the Queen’s chamber, as the King had learned 
 him, and through the chamber to the cabinet, where he found the 
 Queen’s Majesty sitting at her supper, at the middest of a little 
 table, the Lady Argile sitting at one end, and Davie at the head 
 of the table with his cap on his head, the King speaking with the 
 Queen’s Majesty, and his hand about her waste. The Lord Ruthen 
 at his coming in said to the Queen’s Majesty, It would please your 
 Majesty to let yonder man Davie come forth of your presence, 
 for he hath been over-long here. Her Majesty answered, What 
 offence hath he made ? The said lord replied again, that he had 
 made great offence to her Majesty’s honour, the King her hus- 
 band, the nobility and commonweal of the realm. And how? 
 saith she. It will please your Majesty, said he, he hath offended 
 your Majesty’s honour, which I dare not be so bold to speak of : 
 As to the King your husband’s honour, he hath hindred him of 
 the crown matrimonial, which your grace promised him, besides 
 many other things which are not necessary to be expressed. And 
 as to the nobility, he hath caused your Majesty to banish a great 
 part, and most chief thereof, and forefault them at this present 
 parliament, that he might be made a lord. And as to your com- 
 monweal, he hath been a common destroyer thereof, in so far as 
 he suffered not your Majesty to grant or give any thing but that 
 which passed through his hands, by taking of bribes and goods for 
 the same; and caused your Majesty to put out the Lord Ross from 
 
20 
 
 A RELATION OF THE 
 
 his whole lands, because he would not give over the lordship of 
 Melvin to the said Davie; besides many other inconveniences that 
 he sollicited your Majesty to do. Then the Lord Ruthen said to 
 the King, Sir, take the Queen’s Majesty your sovereign and wife 
 to you, who stood all amazed, and wyst not what to do. Then 
 her Majesty rose on her feet and stood before Davie , he holding 
 her Majesty by the plates of the gown, leaning back over in the 
 window, his whiniard drawn in his hand. Arthur Erskine , and the 
 Abbot of Holyrood-house, the Laird of Creech, master of the 
 household, with the French apothecary, and one of the Grooms 
 of the Chamber, began to lay hands upon the Lord Ruthen y none 
 of the King’s party being present. Then the said Lord pulled 
 out his whiniard, and freed himself while more came in, and said 
 to them, Lay not hands on me, for I will not be handled; and at 
 the incoming of others into the cabinet, the Lord Ruthen put up 
 his whiniard. And with the rushing in of men the board fell to 
 the wallwards, with meat and candles being thereon; and the 
 Lady of Argile took up one of the candles in her hand : and in 
 the same instant Lord Ruthen took the Queen in his arms, and 
 put her into the King’s arms, beseeching her Majesty not to be 
 afraid; for there was no man there that would do her Majesty’s 
 body more harm than their own hearts; and assured her Majesty, 
 all that was done was the King’s own deed and action. Then the 
 remanent gentlemen being in the cabinet, took Davie out of the 
 window ; and after that they had him out in the Queen’s chamber, 
 the Lord Ruthen followed, and bad take him down the privy way 
 to the King’s chamber; and the said lord returned to the cabinet 
 again, believing that Davie had been had down to the King’s 
 chamber; but the press of the people hurled him forth to the 
 utter chamber, where there was a great number standing, who 
 were so vehemently moved against the said Davie, that they could 
 not abide any longer, but slew him at the Queen’s far door in the 
 utter chamber. Immediately the Earl of Morton passed forth of 
 the Queen’s Majesty’s utter chamber to the inner court for 
 keeping of the same and the gates, and deputed certain barons to 
 keep Davie’s chamber till he knew the Queen’s Majesty’s pleasure 
 and the King’s. Shortly after their Majesties sent the Lord 
 
DEATH OF DAVID RICCIO. 
 
 21 
 
 Lindsey , and Arthur Erskine 3 to the said Earl of Morton , to pass to 
 David’s chamber to fetch a black coffer with writings and cyphers, 
 which the said Earl of Morton delivered to them, and gave the 
 chamber in keeping to John Semple , son to the Lord Semple , with 
 the whole goods there ; gold, silver, and apparel being therein. 
 In this mean time the Queen’s Majesty and the King came forth 
 of the cabinet to the Queen’s chamber, where her Majesty began 
 to reason with the King, saying, My Lord, why have you caused 
 to do this wicked deed to me, considering I took you from a base 
 estate, and made you my husband? What offence have I made 
 you that ye should have done me such shame? The King 
 answered, and said, I have good reason for me; for since yon 
 fellow Davie fell in credit and familiarity with your Majesty, ye 
 regarded me not, neither treated me nor entertained me after your 
 wonted fashion; for every day before dinner, and after dinner, ye 
 would come to my chamber and pass time with me, and this long 
 time ye have not done so ; and when I come to your Majesty’s 
 chamber, ye bear me little company, except Davie had been the 
 third marrow : and after supper your Majesty hath a use to set at 
 the cards with the said Davie till one or two of the clocke after 
 midnight; and this is the entertainment that I have had of you 
 this long time. Her Majesty’s answer was, It was not gentle- 
 womens duty to come to their husbands chamber, but rather the 
 husband to come to the wive’s chamber, if he had any thing to 
 do with her. The King answered, How came ye to my chamber 
 at the beginning, and ever, till within these few months that 
 Davie fell in familiarity with you? or am I failed in any sort? 
 or what disdain have you at me? or what offence have 1 made 
 you, that you should not use me at all time alike? seeing that I 
 am willing to do all things that becometli a good husband 
 to do to his wife. For since you have chose me to be your 
 husband, suppose 1 be of the baser degree, yet I am your head, 
 and ye promised obedience at the day of our marriage, and that I 
 should be equal with you, and participant in all things. I suppose 
 you have used me otherwise by the persuasions of Davie . Her 
 Majesty answered, and said, that all the shame that was done to 
 her, that, my Lord, ye have the weight thereof ; for the which I 
 
£2 
 
 A RELATION -OF THE 
 
 shall never be your wife, nor lie with you ; nor shall never like 
 well, till I gar you have as sore a heart as I have presently. Then 
 the Lord Ruthen made answer, and besought her Majesty to be 
 of good comfort, and to treat herself and the King her husband-, 
 and to use the counsel of the nobility, and he was assured her 
 government should be as well guided as ever it was in any King's 
 days. The said lord being so feebled with his sickness, and 
 wearied with his travel, that he desired her Majesty's pardon to 
 sit down upon a coffer, and called for a drink for God’s sake: so a 
 French man brought him a cup of wine, and after that he had 
 drunken, the Queen's Majesty began to rail against the said lord: 
 Is this your sickness. Lord Ruthen ? The said Lord answered, 
 God forbid that your Majesty had such a sickness ; for I had 
 rather give all the moveable goods that I have. Then, said her 
 Majesty, if she died, or her bairn or common-weal perished, she 
 should leave the revenge thereof to her friends to revenge the 
 same upon the Lord Ruthen and his posterity; for she had the 
 King of Spain her great friend, the Emperor likewise, and the 
 King of France her good brother, the Cardinal of Lorrain, and 
 her Unkles in France, besides the Pope’s Holiness, with many 
 other princes in Italy. The said lord answered, that these noble 
 princes were over-great personages to meddle with such apoor 
 man as he was, being her Majesty's own subject : and where her 
 Majesty said, that if either she, her bairn, or the common-weal 
 perished, the Lord Ruthen should have the weight thereof; he 
 answered, that if any of the three perished, her Majesty’s self and 
 her particular counsel should have the weight thereof, and should 
 be accused as well before God as the world: for there was no man 
 there within that palace, but they that would honour and serve her 
 Majesty, as becometh true subjects; and would suffer no manner 
 of harm to be done to her Majesty's body than to their own hearts; 
 and if any thing be done this night that your Majesty mislikes, 
 charge the King your husband, and none of us your subjects; 
 which the King confessed was of verity. In the same instant one 
 came knocking fast at the Queen's chamber-door, declaring that 
 the Earls Huntly, Athol, But hie el, Cat /mesa, and Sutherland, with 
 the Lords Fleming , Levingstone , secretary, Tillibarn, the comp- 
 
DEATH OF DAVID RICCIO. 
 
 23 
 
 troller, and the Laird of Grant , with their own servants and officers 
 of the palace, were fighting in the Close against the Earl of 
 Morton and his company, being on the King’s party. The King 
 hearing the same, would have gone down, and the Lord Ruthen 
 staid him, and desired him to intreat the Queen’s Majesty, and 
 he would go down and take order amongst them. So he passed 
 to the Close, borne under the arm ; and before his coming the 
 officers were dwong into their houses; and the lords were holden 
 in at the gallery door by the Earl of Morton and others being 
 w ith him, and were constrained to pass up to the gallery and to 
 their chambers. So the said Lord Ruthen passed up to the Earl 
 Bothwell’ s chamber, where he found the Earls of Huntley , 
 Sutherlandy Cathness, the Laird of Grant , and divers others, to 
 whom he shewed that the whole proceeding that was done that 
 night, was done and invented by the King’s Majesty’s own devise, 
 like as his hand-written was to shew thereupon ; and how he had 
 sent for the lords that were banished in England and Argyle, who 
 w r ould be there before day : And because there w as some enmity 
 unreconciled betwixt the Earls of Huntly and Bothwell, and the 
 Earls of Argyle and Murray , and their colleagues, the said lords 
 promised in their names, that it should be mended at the sight of 
 two or three of the nobility, they doing such like to them; where- 
 upon the said Earls of Huntley and Bothwell gave the Lord Ruthen 
 their hands, and received his for the other part : and after they 
 had drunken, the Lord Ruthen took his leave of them, and passed 
 to the Earl of Athol's chamber, accompanied with the Earls of 
 Cathness , Sutherlandy and the Laird of Grant ; and found with the 
 said earl the comptroller, secretary, Mr. James Balfour , and 
 divers others : and because of the familiarity and kindness betwixt 
 the Earl of Athol and the Lord Ruthen , the earl began to be 
 angry with the said lord, for that he would not shew him what 
 enterprise soever that he had to do ; whose answer was, that it was 
 the King’s action and the King’s devise, and that none of them 
 had further mpdling therewith than the King had commanded, 
 like as his hand- written did testify. Yet the earl enquired further 
 upon the Lord Rutheiiy why he would not let him know thereof: 
 he answered, it was the King’s secret; and feared if he had given 
 
24 
 
 A RELATION OF THE 
 
 knowledge thereof, he would have revealed it to the Queen’s 
 Majesty, which might have been a hindrance of the purpose, 
 and caused the King to have holden me unhonest for my part. 
 The Earl perceiving that all that was done was the King’s own 
 deed, desired the said Lord Ruthen to pass to the King, and get 
 him leave to pass to his country, and so many as were presently 
 in the chamber with him. In this mean time the Earls of Both- 
 zcell and Bluntly, taking a fear of the other lords returning out of 
 England and Argyle, and because they were hardly imprisoned 
 before, thought it better to escape too than to remain ; so they 
 went out at a low window", and passed their ways. In the mean 
 time, w hile the Lord Ruthen was with the Earl of Athol , the King 
 declared to the Queen’s Majesty, that he had sent for the lords to 
 return again ; whereunto she answered, she was not in the blame 
 that they w r ere so long away ; for she could have been content to 
 have brought them home at any time, had it not been for angering 
 the King; and to verify the same, w r hen her Majesty gave a 
 remission to the duke, the King was very miscontent therewith : 
 whereto the King answered, that it was true that he was mis- 
 contented then, but now" he was content, and doubted not but she 
 w r ould also be content to persevere in the good mind to them as 
 she had done before. At the same time came the Provost of 
 Edinburgh, and a great number of men of the town w ith him in 
 arms to the utter court of the palace of Holy rood-house, where 
 the King called out of the window to them, commanding them to 
 return to their houses, like as they did; for lie declared to them 
 that the Queen’s Majesty and he were in good health. The 
 Lord Ruthen being come up to the Queen’s chamber again, w here 
 the King w r as beside her, lie shewed them that there was no hurt 
 done, and that the lords and all others were merry, and no harm 
 done. Then her Majesty enquired w hat was become of Davie. 
 The said Lord Ruthen answered that he believed he was in the 
 King’s chamber; for he thought it not good to shew her as he 
 died, for fear of putting her Majesty in greater trouble presently. 
 Then the Queen’s Majesty enquired of the said lord w hat great 
 kindness was betwixt the Earl of Murray and him, that rather 
 than he and the remanent should be forfaulted, that he would be 
 
DEATH OF DAVID RICCIO. 
 
 25 
 
 forfault with them. Remember ye not, said she, what the Earl 
 of Murray would have had me done to you for giving me the 
 ring? The Lord Ruthen answered, that he would bear no quarrel 
 for that cause, but would forgive him and all others for God's 
 sake; and as to that ring, it had no more virtue than another, 
 and was one little ring with a pointed diamond in it. Remember 
 ye not, said her Majesty, that ye said it had a virtue to keep me 
 from poisoning? Yea, madam, I said so much, that the ring 
 had that virtue, only to take that evil opinion out of your 
 head of poisoning, which you conceived that the Protestants 
 would have done; which the said Lord knew the contrary, that 
 the Protestants would have done no more harm to your Majesty’s 
 body than to their own hearts ; but it was so imprinted in your 
 Majesty’s mind, that it could not be taken away without a con- 
 trary impression. Then said her Majesty, what fault or offence 
 have I made to be handled in this manner? Inquire, said he, 
 of the King your husband. Nay, but I will inquire of you : 
 who answered, Madam, ye well remember that ye have had 
 this long time a few number of privy persons, and most special 
 Davie , a stranger Italian , who have guided and ruled you con- 
 trary to the advice of your nobility and counsel ; and especially 
 against these noblemen that were banished. But were ye not 
 one of my council ? what is the cause that ye should not have 
 declared, if I had done any thing amiss against them that 
 became me not? Because your Majesty would hear no such 
 thing : for all the time that your Majesty was in Glascow or 
 Dumfriese, let see if ever ye caused your council to sit, or to 
 reason upon any thing, but did all things by your Majesty’s self 
 and your privy persons, albeit the nobility bare the pains and 
 expences. Well, said her Majesty, ye find great fault with me, 
 I will be contented to set down my crown before the lords of the 
 articles; and if they find l have offended, to give it where they 
 please. God forbid, madam, that your crown should be in such 
 hazard; but yet, madam, who chose the lords of the articles? 
 Not I, said she. Saving your Majesty’s reverence, said the 
 Lord Ruthen , ye chose them all in Seaton, and nominated them : 
 
 E 
 
A RELATION OF THE 
 
 26 
 
 And as for your Majesty’s council, it hath not been suffered 
 to wait freely this long time, but behoved to say what was your 
 pleasure. And as to the lords of the articles, your Majesty 
 chose such as would say whatsoever you thought expedient to 
 the forfaulters of the lords banished : And now when the lords 
 of the articles have sitten fourteen days reasoning on the sum- 
 mons of treason, have ye found a just head wherefore they 
 ought to be forfaulted? No, madam, not so much as one point, 
 without false witness be brought in against them. Whereunto 
 she gave no answer. 
 
 The Lord Ruthen perceiving that the Queen’s Majesty was 
 weary, said to the King, Sir, it is best ye take your leave at the 
 Queen’s Majesty, that she may take rest : So the King took his 
 good night, and came forth of the Queen’s chamber, and we with 
 him, and left none there but the ladies, gentlewomen, and the 
 grooms of the Queen’s Majesty’s chamber. And so soon as the 
 King came to his own chamber, the Lord Ruthen declared, the 
 message he had from the Earl of Athol to the King, that he 
 might have license to return home to Athol : Which the King 
 was loth to do without he gave him a band that he should be his. 
 The Lord Ruthen answered, that he was a true man of his promise, 
 and would keep the thing he said, as well as others would do their 
 hand-writing and seal. Then the King desired him to fetch the 
 Earl of Athol to him; which he did : And after the King and 
 Earl of Athol had talked together, he desired the earl to be ready 
 to come whensoever he should send for him. II is answer was, 
 that whensoever it pleased the Queen’s Grace and him to send 
 for him, that he would come gladly: And the earl desired the 
 King that he might speak with the Queen’s Majesty, which the 
 King refused. And then the earl took his good night, and passed 
 to his chamber, and the Lord Ruthen with him, where he made 
 him ready and his company to pass forth, like as they did ; and 
 in his company were the Earls of Sutherland and Cathness, the 
 Master of Cathness , the secretary, and controler, Mr James 
 Balfour y the Laird of Grant , with divers others. Immediately 
 the King directed two writings, subscribed with his hand, on 
 
DEATH OF DAVID RICCIO. 
 
 27 
 
 Saturday after the slaughter of Davie , to certain men of Edenburg 
 bearing office for the time, charging them to convene men in 
 arms, and make watch within the town upon the Calsay ; and to 
 suffer none others to be seen out of their houses, except Pro- 
 testants, under all highest pain and charge that after may follow. 
 And on the morrow after, which was Sunday the 10th of March, 
 the King directed a letter, subscribed with his hand, making 
 mention that it w as not his will that the parliament should hold, 
 for divers causes, but discharged the same by the tenor thereof: 
 And therefore commanding all prelats, earls, lords, barons, com- 
 missioners, and barrowis, and others that are warned to the said 
 parliament, to depart from Edenburg within three hours next after 
 that charge, under the pain of life, lands, and goods, except so 
 many as the King by his special command caused to remain; 
 w hich letter was openly proclaimed at the Market-cross, and fully 
 obeyed. The gates being locked, the King being in his bed, the 
 Queen’s Majesty walking in her chamber, the said Lord Ruthen 
 took air upon the lower gate, and the privy passages : and at the 
 King’s command, in the mean time, Davie was hurled down the 
 steps of the stairs from the place where he was slain, and brought 
 to the porter’s lodge; where the porter’s servant taking off his 
 clothes, said, This hath been his destiny ; for upon this chest was 
 his first bed when he entred into this place, and now here he lieth 
 again, a very ingrate and misknowing knave. The King’s whi- 
 niard was found sticking in Davie’s side after he was dead; but 
 always the Queen inquired of the King where his whiniard was ? 
 who answered, that he wit not well: Well, said she, it will be 
 known afterwards. 
 
 The King rose at eight of the clock, and passed to the Queen’s 
 chamber, where he and she fell to reasoning of the matter pro- 
 ceeded the night afore, the one grating on the other till it was ten 
 a clock, then the King came down to his chamber; and at his 
 coming from her, she desired him to let all the ladies and gentle- 
 women come unto her, which the King granted, and at his coming 
 down shewed the same to the Earl of Morton and Lord Ruthen , 
 who were not contented with the same ; and shewed the King, 
 
28 
 
 A RELATION OF THE 
 
 that they feared that the Queen’s Majesty would traffick by them 
 with the lords, and all other that would do for her, like as it 
 followed indeed : For instantly her Majesty wrote some writing, 
 and caused them to write others in her name to the Earls of Argile. 
 Huntly , Bothwel, Athol , and others. After that the King had 
 dined, he passed up to the Queen’s Majesty’s chamber, where the 
 Queen made as she would have parted with Bairn, and caused the 
 midwife to come and say the same. So her Majesty complained 
 that she could get none of the gentlewomen to come up to her, 
 Scots nor French. The King sending this word to the Earl of 
 Morton and Lord Ruthen, all were let in that pleased. At the 
 same time the Queen’s Majesty thought that the Lord Ruthen 
 would do her body harm, and sent John Semple, son to the Lord 
 Semple, to Lord Ruthen to enquire what her Majesty might lippen 
 unto in that behalf : Whose answer was, that he would no more 
 harm to her body, than to his own heart ; if any man intended 
 to do otherwise, he should defend her Majesty’s body at the 
 uttermost of his power. And further said, her Majesty had 
 experience of his mind in that night’s proceeding, when he 
 suffered none come near her Majesty to molest and trouble her. 
 John Semple brought this message to the Lord Ruthen at two of 
 the clock afternoon, sitting then in the King’s utter chamber at his 
 dinner. At four of the clock the King came down to his chamber, 
 where the Lord Ruthen shewed him that the Queen’s Majesty was 
 to steal out among the throng of the gentlewomen in their down- 
 coming, as he said he was advertised. So the King commanded 
 him to give attendance thereto ; which he did, and put certain 
 to the door, and let no body nor gentlewoman pass forth undis- 
 muffled. 
 
 After, about seven or eight of the clock, the Earls of Murray 
 and Rothes, with their complices, came out of England, and 
 lighted at the abbey, and were thankfully received of the King; 
 and after certain communing, the Earl of Murray took his good- 
 night of the King, and passed to the Earl of Mortons house to 
 su,pper. Immediately thereafter, the Queen’s Majesty sent one of 
 her ushers, called Robert Phirsell, for the Earl of Murray ; who 
 
DEATH OF DAVID RTCCIO. 
 
 29 
 
 passed to her Majesty, whom she received pleasantly, as appeared; 
 and after communing, he passed to the Earl of Morton s house 
 again, where he remained that night. At this time the King 
 remained communing with the Queen’s Majesty, and after long 
 reasoning with her, she granted to lie with him all night, he coming 
 to her chamber, and putting all men out of his utter chamber, ex- 
 cept the waiters of his chamber, and made a complaint that her 
 gentlewomen could not go forth at the door undismuffled at the 
 King’s coming down. He shewed the Earl of Morton and Lord 
 Ruthen the whole manner of his proceedings with the Queen’s Ma- 
 jesty, which they liked no way, because they perceived the King 
 grew effeminate again ; and said to him, we see no other but ye are 
 able to do that thing that will gar you and us both repent. Always 
 he would have the said earl and lord to rid all the house, conform 
 to the Queen’s Majesty’s desire ; which they did, and the Lord 
 Ruthen passed and lay in the King’s wardrobe: and after he was lien 
 down, George Douglas came to him, and shewed him that the King 
 was fallen asleep. He caused George to go to wake the King; and 
 after that he had gone in twice or thrice, finding him sleeping so 
 sound, he would not awake him. Thereat the said lord was very 
 miscontented ; the King slept still till six in the morning, that the 
 Lord Ruthen came and reproved him, that he had not kept his pro- 
 mise to the Queen’s Majesty, in lying with her all that night. His 
 answer was, that he was fallen on such a dead sleep that he could 
 not awaken; and put the blame to William Tellor , one of his ser- 
 vants, that permitted him to sleep. But always, said he, I will 
 take my night-gown and go up to the Queen. The Lord Ruthen 
 answered, I trust she shall serve you in the morning as you did 
 her at night. Always the King passed up, being Monday the 
 11th of March, at six of the clock, to her Majesty’s chamber, 
 and sat down on the bed-side, she being sleeping, or at least made 
 her self so, and sat there by the space of one hour e’re she spake 
 word to him. Then when her Majesty waked, she enquired of 
 the King, why he came not up yesterday night conform to his 
 promise? He answered, he fell in so dead a sleeep, that he 
 awaked not afore six. Now, saith he, am 1 come, and offered to 
 
JO 
 
 A RELATION OF THE 
 
 lie down beside her Majesty ; but she would not suffer him, foi* 
 she said she was sick, and would rise incontinent. Then the 
 King fell in reasoning with her Majesty towards the returning of 
 the said lords that were banished, and forgiving of them all 
 offences, and likewise for the slaughter of Davie : and as appeared 
 to him her Majesty w'as content ; for the King came down to his 
 own chamber at eight of the clock very merrily, and shewed the 
 Earl of Morton and Lord Ruthen the proceedings betwixt him 
 and the Queen’s Majesty: who answered him, and said, all was 
 but words that they heard. For look how ye intend to peiswade 
 her Majesty; we fear she will persuade you to follow her will and 
 desire, by reason she hath been trained up from her youth in the 
 court of France, as well in the affairs of France as Scotland, in 
 the privy council. Well, said the King, will ye let me alone, and 
 I will warrant to dress all things well. And after that the King 
 had put on his clothes, he passed at nine to the Queen’s cham- 
 ber, where he reasoned of many things with her Majesty : And 
 at his returning to his dinner at eleven, he declared to the Earls 
 of Murray and Morton , Lords Ruthen and Lindzay, that he had 
 addressed the Queen’s Majesty ; that the said two earls and Lord 
 Ruthen , should come to the presence of the Queen’s Majesty, 
 and she would forgive, and put in oblivion all things by-past, and 
 bury them out of her Majesty’s mind, as they had never been. 
 The said earls and lords answered, that all that speaking was but 
 policy; and suppose it were promised, little or nothing would be 
 kept. Always the King took freely in hand, and bad them make 
 such security as they pleased, and the Queen’s Majesty and he 
 should subscribe the same. And then after dinner the King passed 
 up again to the Queen’s chamber, where the midwife was made to 
 come to him, and said, that the Queen would not fail to part 
 with Bairn, if her Majesty went not to some other place w here 
 there were more freer air; and in like manner divers of the lords 
 said the same. And the King returning to his chamber at three 
 afternoon, declared the same to the Earls and Lord Ruthen: And 
 in the mean time in came the French doctoi, w ho declared to the 
 King, that it was unable to the Queen’s Majesty to esehew a fever ; 
 
DEATH OF DAVID KICCIO. 
 
 31 
 
 which, if she take, she will not fail to part with Bairn, without 
 she were transported from that place to some better aired place. 
 After they were departed, the King inquired of the said earls and 
 lords, what they thought of their speaking? Who answered, 
 they feared all was but craft and policy that was spoken and done. 
 Always the King would not trow the same, and said, that she was 
 a true Princess, and that thing she promised, he would set his life 
 for the same. And between four and five afternoon, the King 
 passed to the Queen’s chamber, and took the Earls of Morton, 
 Murrai /, and Lord Ruthen with him ; and after they had come to 
 the Queen’s utter chamber, the King went in and left the lords, 
 to know her pleasure, whether her Majesty would come out of 
 her utter chamber, or if the lords should come into her Majesty. 
 She took purpose, and came out of the utter chamber, led by the 
 King; the said earls and lords sitting down upon their knees, made 
 their general oration by the Earl of Morton , chancellor, and after, 
 their particular orations by themselves. And after that her Ma- 
 jesty had heard all, her answer was, that it was not unknown to 
 the lords, that she was never blood-thirsty, nor greedy upon their 
 lands and goods, sithence her coming into Scotland ; nor yet 
 would be upon theirs that were present, but w ould remit the whole 
 number that was banished, or were at the last deed; and bury 
 and put all things in oblivion as if they had never been ; and so 
 caused the said earls, lords, and barons, to arise on their feet. 
 And afterwards her Majesty desired them to make their own 
 security in that sort they pleased best, and she should subscribe 
 the same. Thereafter her Majesty took the King by the one hand, 
 and the Earl of Murrai/ by the other, and walked in her said utter 
 chamber the space of one hour; and then her Majesty passed into 
 her inner chamber, where she and the King appointed, that all 
 they that were on the King’s party, should go forth of the place 
 after supper. The King coming down to bis chamber afore six 
 of the clock, the articles which were the security that were on the 
 King’> party, were given by the Earls of Murrai/ and Morton , and 
 Lords Ruthen and Lindsey to the King, to be subscribed by the 
 Queen, which the King took in hand so soou as he had supped 
 
32 
 
 A RELATION OF THE 
 
 to be done ; and he desired the said lords to remove themselves out 
 of the palace, to that effect, that her Majesty's guard and servants 
 might order all as they pleased. The lords answer was to the 
 King, You may well cause us to do that thing that is your plea- 
 sure, but it is sore against our wills; for we fear all this is but 
 deceit that is meant towards us, and that the Queen's Majesty 
 will pass away secretly, and take you with her, either to the castle 
 of Edenburg, or else Dunbar. And here the Lord Ruthtn pro- 
 tested, that what end followed thereupon, or what blood was shed 
 for the same, that it should come upon the King's head and pos- 
 terity, and nought upon theirs. The King said, he should warrant 
 all. So they departed, and took their leave of the King, and 
 passed all forth of the palace of Holyrood-house to the -Earl of 
 Morton's house, where they supped; and after supper directed 
 Mr. Archibald Douglass to the King, to see if the Queen’s Ma- 
 jesty had subscribed the articles of the lords and barons security. 
 The King gave answer, that he had let the Queen's Majesty see 
 them, w ho found them very good ; and because she was sick and 
 going to her bed, she delayed the subscribing of them to the 
 morning ; and immediately after Mr. Archibald returned to the 
 lords with answer. The Laird of Traquair , master of the guard, 
 made an errant to the Earl of Murray , to see w r hat the lords were 
 doing, and after he w r as departed, the whole earls, lords, and 
 barons, with gentlemen, passed to the town of Edenburgh to their 
 beds, believing surely the Queen’s Majesty's promise, and the 
 King's. 
 
 The same night about one a clock after midnight, the Queen's 
 Majesty and the King with her, went out at a back-door that 
 passed through the wine-cellar ; where Arthur Erskiti, the captain 
 of the guard, and other six or seven persons, met her Majesty, 
 with her horses, and rode toward Dunbar; and on the morrow, 
 which was Tuesday, the 12th of March, the lords hearing how 
 the Queen’s Majesty was departed, and taken the King with her, 
 convened the earls, lords, barons, and gentlemen, and after the 
 matter was appointed, enquired every man’s opinion, which con- 
 cluded all to remain in the town of Edenburgh, till such time they 
 
DEATH OF DAVID RICCIO. 
 
 33 
 
 might send some noblemen to her Majesty for performance of 
 the articles promised for their security ; and to that effect sent 
 for the Lord Semple , and desired him that he would pass to 
 Dunbar, with a writing of the lords, which he granted to do, 
 and received the same with a copy of the articles that the King 
 received before, and promised to do his utter diligence to get 
 the same immediately sped, if it were the King and Queen’s 
 Majesties pleasure so to do. After the Lord Semple's coming to 
 Dunbar, having presented the lords writing to their Majesties, he 
 was evil taken with the Queen’s Majesty, who caused him to 
 remain three days: he reported at his returning, that there was 
 no good way to be looked for there, but extremity to the earls, 
 lords, and gentlemen, who had been at the slaughter of David , 
 notwithstanding her Majesty’s promise made before. At that 
 time her Majesty being in Dunbar, wrote to all earls, lords, and 
 barons, to meet her in Haddington town the 17th or 18th of 
 March, and likewise directed universal letters, charging all man- 
 ner of men betwixt sixty and sixteen to be there, day and place 
 aforesaid, being in arms in fear of war; and also sent divers 
 charges to the Lord Erskine , captain of the castle of Edinburgh, 
 to shut up the town, unless the lords departed out of it. In 
 this time it was declared to the Earl of Murray , that if he 
 would sue address to the Queen’s Majesty, he would obtain the 
 same, who shewed it to the lords, who counselled him to write 
 to her Majesty to that effect; which he did, and received her 
 Majesty’s answer with certain articles. In this time the Earl of 
 Glencarn and Rothes took their appointment of the Queen’s Ma- 
 jesty. The Earl of Morton f Lord Ruthen , and the remanent their 
 complices, perceiving that the Queen was willing to remit the lords 
 banished into England and Argyle, and bare her Majesty’s whole 
 rage against them that were with the King at the slaughter of 
 Davie , thought best to retire themselves into England, under the 
 Queen’s Majesty of England’s protection, till such time as the 
 nobility of Scotland their peers, understood their cause; for they 
 have done nothing without the King’s command, as is before 
 mentioned, and doubt not but their cause shall be found just and 
 
34 
 
 A RELATION OF THE 
 
 honest whensoever the same be tried; and lament the extream 
 handling contrary to order and justice, that they may not compear 
 for fear of their lives; in respect that her Majesty hath caused a 
 band to be made, and all earls, lords, and barons, that resorted 
 to her Majesty, to subscribe the same, that they shall pursue the 
 said Earl Morton , Lord Ruthen , and Lindsay , and their complices 
 with fire and sword; which js against all order of the law: And 
 on Saturday, the 22d of March, her Majesty hath caused to 
 be summoned the Earl of Morton, Lords Ruthen and Lindsay , 
 the Master of Ruthven , Lairds of Ormyston, Brinston , Halton, 
 Elvelston, Calder, Andrew Carr of Faldomside, Alexander Ruthen , 
 brother to the Lord Ruthen, Patrick Murray of Tippermure, 
 William Douglas of Whittingham, Archibald Douglas, his bro- 
 ther, George Douglas, Lyndsay of Pry stone, Thomas Scott of 
 Cambysmichet, William Douglas of Lochleven, James Jeffert 
 of Shreffal, Adam Er shine, commendator of Camskinnel, Men- 
 tershfear of Kars, Patrick Ballenden of Stenehouse, brother to 
 Justice Clerk, Patrick Wood of Cony ton, Mr. James Magil , 
 clerk of registers, with others, to compear before her Majesty 
 and secret council within six days, under the pain of rebel- 
 lion, and putting them to her horn, and eschetting and bringing 
 of all their moveable goods, the which like order is not used in 
 any Christian realm; nor is it the law of Scotland of old; but 
 new cropen in, and invented by them that understand no law 
 nor yet good practice: and how her Majesty hath handled the 
 barons of Lothian our brothers, it is known; and in likewise our 
 poor brethren of Edinburgh, merchants, and craftsmen, and how 
 they are oppressed by the men of war God knoweth, who will put 
 remedy hereto when it pleaseth him best : and how r the lords and 
 barons wives are oppressed in spoiling of their places, robbing 
 of their goods without any fine for the same, it would pity 
 a godly heart. And where her Majesty alledgeth, that night 
 that Davie was slain, some held pistols to her Majesty; some 
 stroke whintards so near her, that she felt the coldness of the iron, 
 with many other such like sayings, which we take God to record 
 was never meant nor done ; for the said Davie received never a 
 
DEATH OF DAVID RICCIO. 
 
 35 
 
 stroke in her Majesty’s presence, nor was not stricken till he 
 was at the farthest door of her Majesty’s utter chamber, as is before 
 rehearsed. Her Majesty makes all these allegations to draw the 
 Earl Morton , the Lord Rut hen and Lindsay , and their complices, 
 in greater hatred with other foreign princes, and with the nobility 
 and commonalty of the realm, who have experience of the con- 
 trary, and know that there was no evil meant to her Majesty’s 
 body. The eternal God who hath the rule of Princes hearts in 
 his hands, send her his Holy Spirit, to instruct her how she should 
 rule and govern with clemency and mercy over her subjects. 
 Written at Berwick the 28th day of March, 1565. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 The body of Riccio was buried within two hours after the murder 
 in the cemetery of Holyrood. Buchanan states , that it zcas shortly 
 after removed by the Queen's orders , and buried in the sepulchre of 
 the Kings of Scotland ; a measure the most impolitic , as it strength- 
 ened the previous reports of her familiarity with him. 
 
 The process against the persons concerned was very severe ; some 
 were put to death; others banished; and many were fined ; but the 
 principals of the conspiracy had either escaped into England , or 
 concealed themselves in the Highlands. All offices and places of 
 trust were taken away from those who were in the least suspected , 
 and conferred on their enemies. And a proclamation was issued, 
 forbidding any person to say that the King had any knowledge 
 or part in the death of Riccio. The preceding account by Lord 
 Ruthen is however a sufficient proof of the King's share in it, and 
 the proclamation only tends to confirm it. 
 
AN 
 
 account of a teuaml 
 
 BETWEEN 
 
 ARTHUR HALL, ESQ. 
 
 AND 
 
 MELCHISEDECH MALLERIE, GENT. 
 
 WITH THE 
 
 PROCEEDINGS IN THE SUITS WHICH AROSE THEREFROM : 
 
 AND A LETTER ON THE ORIGIN AND ANTIQUITY OF PARLIAMENT, 
 WITH ADVICE TO A MEMBER FOR HIS CONDUCT THEREIN. 
 
 THE WHOLE WRITTEN BY ARTHUR HALL, ESQ. 
 
 MEMBER FOR GRANTHAM IN SEVERAL PARLIAMENTS OF Q. ELIZABETH, 
 AND TRANSLATOR OF TEN BOOKS OF HOMER’S ILIAD 
 INTO ENGLISH VERSE. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 REPRINTED FOR ROBERT TRIPHOOK, 37 , ST. JAMES’S STREET. 
 
 1815 . 
 

 
 
 ..." 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 In the present portion of our Archaeological Miscellany 
 we have the satisfaction of rescuing from oblivion one of 
 the most curious and lively pictures of ancient manners 
 perhaps in existence ; and if it were fair to estimate the 
 value of things by their rarity, the following tract might 
 on this score lay claim to a high degree of consideration : 
 we should not, however, have thought ourselves warranted 
 in reprinting it, had it only this recommendation ; but it 
 has a much more powerful title to the place it holds in 
 this work, and the curious inquirer into ancient manners 
 will be highly gratified with the singularly interesting view 
 which it affords of the habits and manners of the young- 
 men of family and fashion who formed the court of our 
 maiden Queen. 
 
 The author of this literary rarity, Arthur Hall> is well 
 known to those who are curious in our poetical antiquities, 
 as the author of the first attempt to render Homer’s Iliad 
 into English. He appears to have been a travelled and 
 well educated man; and the following performance, though 
 it sometimes exhibits him in an unamiable point of view, 
 
 a 2 
 
IV 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 yet has a discrimination and show of candour pervading it, 
 which speaks loudly in favour of his judgment. 
 
 In his translation of Homer he has, however, entirely 
 failed. The attempt was probably beyond his powers, 
 and yet it may be in some measure owing to his having 
 used the tame and insipid French version of Hugues de 
 Salel, and his unfortunate preference of the Alexandrine 
 measure of Sternhold and Hopkins; it seems however that 
 he compared his translation with the Latin version, and 
 occasionally with the Greek ; but it must be confessed it 
 has now but little claim to our attention, and derives 
 its chief value from the circumstance of being the first 
 translation of Homer, and but for this, it would not perhaps, 
 even in the present age when our early poetry is so eagerly 
 coveted by collectors, hold any place in a poetical library. 
 In the advertisement prefixed to his translation of Homer, 
 he says he began it about 1563, under the advice and en- 
 couragement of “ Mr. Robert Askame, a familiar acquaint- 
 ance of Homer’s it is presumed he here means the 
 celebrated Roger Ascham, who must have thought highly 
 of his juvenile capacity, by advising him to undertake 
 such an arduous task. 
 
 He appears to have been the representative for the 
 borough of Grantham in several successive parliaments, 
 and being disabled by the vote of the House from again 
 serving, in 1586 he sued the borough for his wages. That 
 he was rather of a turbulent disposition will plainly appear 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 V 
 
 from the following statement of his quarrel with Mallerie ; 
 for as it is his own account, we may fairly presume that 
 some of the asperities of his case are softened. The 
 severity with which he was visited by the House of Com- 
 mons makes it plainly appear that he was obnoxious to 
 them ; and the frequency with which his name appears on 
 the Journals as a refractory member, reflects no credit on 
 his character, unless we could conceive his vile picture of 
 the House a just one, and that he resisted their measures 
 and became troublesome from a sense of duty. Be this as it 
 may, and supposing his statement exaggerated, the House 
 of Commons appears to have been, as then constituted, 
 a kind of bear garden ; that his attack upon it was in some 
 degree justified by its character, and is perhaps further 
 extenuated by his supposing himself unjustly and harshly 
 treated from motives of party feeling among them, and 
 on account of his censure of their slavish servility and 
 degraded state. 
 
 To the legislator of the present day, the circumstantial 
 detail of the proceedings in Parliament, which are to be 
 found in the following pages, will be highly amusing : 
 and the second part of this performance may be read with 
 considerable advantage by all who fill or aspire to that 
 dignified and important station. For the lawyer, the 
 curious detail of the conduct of the suit between Mallerie 
 and Hall must have a very considerable degree of in- 
 terest : and to all who take pleasure in inquiring into the 
 
VI 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 state of manners among our ancestors, this volume pos- 
 sesses considerable attraction. It is no imaginary pic- 
 ture drawn by the hand of fancy, or overcharged exhi- 
 bition of fashionable follies designed by a satiric pencil, 
 but a true portraiture of living manners delineated by an 
 actor in the scene, with a force and vigour that brings 
 them before us “ as they lived,” so that we may imagine 
 we see them act, and hear them discourse. 
 
 Ames, and Herbert,* have both, under the head of 
 Henry Bynneman, referred to the Journals of the House 
 of Commons to show that he was summoned before the 
 House for having printed a libellous pamphlet written by 
 Arthur Hall ; but they have neither of them been enabled 
 even to hazard a conjecture of its title. If we attend to 
 the proceedings, as registered in Sir Simon D’Ewes, we 
 shall see that but fourteen copies out of eighty or an hun- 
 dred, which were printed, were delivered to Hall and his 
 friends by the printer; the rest were condemned and con- 
 sequently destroyed by a decree of the House. It is 
 therefore a very extraordinary chance which has preserved 
 one out of so small a number of copies ; and the Editor ac- 
 counts himself fortunate in being instrumental to the pre- 
 servation of so curious and piquant a morsel to the literary 
 antiquary of this inquiring age. 
 
 * Herbert's Ames , vol. ii. p. 9 65. 
 
hall’s case from d’ewes’ journal. vii 
 
 The following extracts from D’Ewes’ Journals of the 
 Parliaments of Queen Elizabeth, will illustrate the history 
 of this singular pamphlet most fully. 
 
 f< Upon sundry motions made by divers of this House, it was ordered, that 17 th May , 
 Arthur Hall, Esq. for sundry lewd speeches used as well in this House as also *572. 
 
 abroad elsewhere, shall have warning by the Serjeant to be here on Monday 
 next, and at the bar to answer to such things as he shall then and there be 
 charged with. 
 
 And it was further ordered, that all such persons as have noted his words in 
 writing, either in this house or abroad, do forthwith assemble in the chamber 
 above, and put the same words in writing, and afterwards deliver them to Mr. 
 
 Speaker, to the end he may charge the said Hall on Monday next. 
 
 This day Arthur Hall, Esq. being brought by the Serjeant to the bar and *9^ May. 
 charged by the House with seven several articles, humbly submitted himself to 15 72. 
 the House, and confessed his folly as well touching the said articles, as also his 
 other fond and unadvised speech at the bar, and was upon the question remitted 
 with a good exhortation given him by Mr. Speaker at large. 
 
 Mr. Lieutenant of the Tower, Sir Nicholas Arnold, and Mr. Sergeant Love- 1 6th Feb. 
 lace were appointed to examine the matter touching the arrest of Mr. Hall’s ser- 1575. 
 vant, before Mr. Speaker at his chamber. 
 
 Upon the question and also upon the division of the House, it was ordered, 20 th Feb. 
 that Edward Smalley, yeoman, servant unto Arthur Hall, Esq. one of the bur- 
 gesses for Grantham, shall have priviledge. 
 
 Report was made by Mr. Attorney of the dutchy upon the committee for the 22 d Feb. 
 delivery of Mr. Hall’s man, that the committee found no precedent for setting at 
 large by the mace, any person in arrest, but only by writ, and that by divers pre- 
 cedents of records perused by the said committees it appeareth, that every Knight, 
 
 Citizen, and Burgess of this House which doth require priviledge, hath used in 
 that case to take a corporal oath before the Lord Chancellor, or Lord Keeper of 
 the Great Seal for the time being ; that the party for whom such writ is prayed, 
 came up with him, and was his servant at the time of the arrest made ; and that 
 Mr. Hall was thereupon moved by this House that he should repair to the Lord 
 Keeper and make oath in form aforesaid, and then to proceed to the taking of a 
 warrant for a writ of priviledge for his said servant, according to the said report of 
 the said former precedents. 
 
 After sundry reasons and arguments it was resolved, that Edward Smalley, 27M Feb. 
 servant unto Arthur Hall, Esq. shall be brought hither to-morrow by the Serjeant, 
 and set at liberty by warrant of the Mace, and not by Writ. 
 
 Edward Smalley, servant unto Arthur Hall, Esq. being this day brought to 28 th Feb. 
 the bar in the House by the Serjeant of this House, and accompanied with two 
 Serjeants of London, was presently delivered from his imprisonment and exccu- 
 
7 th March, 
 1675. 
 
 10/ A March. 
 
 viii a. hall’s case 
 
 tion according to the former judgment of this House, and the said Serjeants of 
 London discharged of their said prisoner ; and immediately after that the said 
 Serjeants of London were sequestred out of this House, and the said Edward 
 Smalley was committed to the charge of the Serjeant of this House. And there- 
 upon the said Edward Smalley was sequestred till this House should be resolved 
 upon some former motions, whether the said Edward Smalley did procure him- 
 self to be arrested upon the said execution, in the abusing and contempt of this 
 House, or not. 
 
 Upon the question it was ordered that Mr. Hall be sequestred the House 
 while the matter touching the supposed contempt done to this House be argued 
 and debated. 
 
 Edward Smalley upon the question was adjudged guilty of contempt, and 
 abusing of this House by fraudulent practice of procuring himself to be arrested 
 upon the execution of his own assent and intention, to be discharged as well of his 
 imprisonment as of the said execution. 
 
 Matthew Kirtleton, school-master to Mr. Hall, was likewise upon another 
 question adjudged guilty by this House of like contempt and abusing of this House, 
 in confederacy and practice with the said Smalley in the intentions aforesaid. 
 
 Upon another question it was adjudged by the House, that the said Smalley 
 be for his misdemeanor and contempt committed to the prison of the Tower. 
 
 Upon the like question it was also adjudged by this House, that the said Kir- 
 tleton, schoolmaster, be also for his said lewd demeanor and contempt in abusing 
 of this House committed to the prison of the Tower. 
 
 Upon another question it was also resolved that the Serjeant of this House be 
 commanded to bring the said Edward Smalley and the said Matthew Kirtleton, 
 schoolmaster to Mr. Hall, into the House to-morrow next in the forenoon, to 
 hear and receive their said judgments accordingly. 
 
 And further that the matter wherein the said Arthur Hall, Esq. is supposed 
 to be touched either in the privity of the said matter of arrest, or in the abusing 
 of the committees of this House, shall be deferred to be further dealt in till to- 
 morrow. 
 
 The Bill against Arthur Hall Esq, Edward Smalley, and Matthew Kirtleton 
 his servant, was read the first time. 
 
 Edward Smalley, servant unto Arthur Hall, Esq. appearing in this House this 
 day at the bar, it was pronounced unto him by Mr. Speaker in the name and by 
 the appointment and order of this House, for execution of the former judgment 
 of this House awarded against him. That he the said Edward Smalley shall be 
 forthwith committed prisoner from this House to the Tower of London, and 
 there remain for one whole month next ensuing from this present day; and fur- 
 ther after the same month expired, until such time as good and sufficient assu- 
 rance shall be had and made for payment of 100/. of good and lawful money of 
 England, to be paid unto William Hewet administrator of the goods, chattels, 
 and debts of Melchisedech Malory, Gent, deceased, upon the first day of the next 
 term, according to the former order in that behalf by this House made and set 
 
FROM DAWES’ JOURNALS. 
 
 IX 
 
 down, and also forty shillings for the Serjeants fees ; the notice of which assurance 
 for the true payment of the said hundred pounds in form aforesaid, to be certified 
 unto Mr. Lieutenant of the Tower by Mr. Recorder of London before any deli- 
 very or setting at liberty of the said Edward Smalley to be in any wise had, or 
 made, at any time after the expiration of the said month, as is aforesaid ; and that 
 he shall not be delivered out of prison before such notice certified, whether the 
 same be before the said first day of the next term, or after. 
 
 Upon a motion made to this House by Mr. Norton, in which he declared that 4 th Feb. 1580. 
 some person of late had caused a book to be set forth in print, not only greatly jyj ot j on 
 reproachful against some particular good members of this House of great i n( , t } ie leuer*^ 
 credit, but also very much slanderous and derogatory to the general authority, 
 power, and state of this House, and prejudicial to the validity of the proceedings 
 of the same, in making and establishing of laws, charging this House with 
 drunkenness, as accompanied in their councils with Bacchus , and then also wiht 
 choler, as those which had never sailed to Anticyra, and the proceedings of this 
 House to be Opera tenebrarum ; and further that by the circumstance of the resi- 
 due of the discourse of the said book he conjectured the same to be done and pro- 
 cured by Mr. Arthur Hall one of this House, and so prayed thereupon the said 
 Mr. Hall might be called by this House to answer, and the matter further to be 
 duly examined as the weight thereof, in due consideration of the gravity and wis- 
 dom of this House and of the authority, state, and liberty of the same requireth. 
 
 It is resolved that the said Mr. Hall be forthwith sent for by the Serjeant at 
 arms attending upon this House, to make his appearance here in that behalf ac- 
 cordingly. 
 
 And then immediately Mr. Secretary Wilson did thereupon signify unto this 
 House, that the said Mr. Hall had upon his examination therein, before the Lords 
 of the Council, heretofore confessed in the hearing of the said Mr. Secretary, 
 that he did cause the said book to be printed indeed ; upon relation whereof and 
 after some speech then also uttered unto this House by Mr. Chancellor of the 
 Exchequer, of the dangerous and lewd contents of the book, the Serjeant was 
 forthwith by order of this House sent to apprehend the said Arthur Hall, and pre- 
 sently assisted for that purpose with Sir Thomas Scott and Sir Thomas Browne, 
 by the appoiniment of this House. 
 
 A commission was also given by this whole House unto Mr. Vice-Chamber- 
 lain, Mr. Chancellor of the Exchequer, Mr. Secretary Wilson, Mr. Treasurer of 
 the Chamber, Sir Henry Lea, Sir Thomas Cecil, Sir William Fitz Williams, 
 and Sir Henry Gate, to send for the printer of the said book, and to examine him 
 touching the said matter, and afterwards to make report thereof to this House ac- 
 cordingly. And also to take order and advice further for the sending for and ap- 
 prehending of the said Arthur Hall, if it should so fall out that he did withdraw 
 himself or depart out of town before such time as the said Serjeant could find 
 him ; with this further resolution also, that any such Member of this House as 
 should happen first to 6ce him or meet him, might and should in the name of this 
 
 b 
 
X 
 
 A. hall’s CASE 
 
 6th Feh. 1580. 
 
 Bynneman ex- 
 amined : 
 
 delivers 1 book 
 to Shirland : 
 
 1 2 books to 
 Hall, 1 book 
 to his man : 
 
 received 
 61, 13s. 4 d. 
 lor printing it. 
 
 Hall declares he 
 had only one 
 book delivered. 
 
 80 or 100 copies 
 of the book 
 printed. 
 
 whole House stay him and bring him forth to answer the said matter forthwith 
 before the whole House with all possible speed, 
 
 Mr. Secretary Wilson declaring the travel of the committees in examining of 
 the printer that did print Mr. Hall’s book, signified unto this house, that the said 
 printer, whose name is Henry Bynnyman, upon his examination before the 
 committees said, that one John Wells, a scrivener in Fleet Street, did deliver the 
 written copy to him ; and when the book was printed he delivered one book to 
 Henry Shirland, in Friday Street, linen-draper, to be sent to Mr. Hall, and that 
 afterwards about a year past he delivered to Mr. Hall six of the said books, and 
 at Michaelmas term last, six other of the said books, and one more to Mr. Hall’s 
 man shortly after; and said that Mr. Hall promised to get him a priviledge, 
 whereupon he adventured (he saith) to print the book, and saith that the copy 
 was written by Wells the scrivener, and that he received of the said Shirland 
 linen cloth to the value of 61 . 135. 4 d. for printing the said book. And that he 
 staid of his own accord the publishing of the said books till he were paid, where 
 Mr. Hall was contented that they should have been put to sale presently. Which 
 report so made by Mr. Secretary, and withal that Mr. Hall and the printer were 
 both then at the door, the said Mr. Hall was thereupon brought to the bar, and 
 being charged by Mr. Speaker in the behalf of the whole house, with the setting 
 forth the said book containing very lewd and slanderous reproach, not only against 
 some particular members of this house, but also against the general state and au- 
 thority of this whole house, denied not the setting forth of the said book, protest- 
 ing the same to be done by him without any malicious intent or meaning, either 
 against the state of this house, or against any member of the same; praying this 
 whole house (if he had offended in so doing) they would remit and pardon him ; 
 affirming withal very earnestly that he never had any more than one of the said 
 books: and upon due consideration of his own rashness and folly therein, willed 
 that all the said books should be suppressed, and then was Mr. Hall sequestred. 
 
 Henry Bynnyman the printer was brought to the bar, who affirmed all things 
 as Mr. Secretary Wilson before reported ; and further, that he had printed four- 
 score or an hundred of the said books, and was thereupon sequestred. 
 
 Henry Shirland was brought to the bar, who there confessed that Mr. Hall 
 did write a letter unto him, and sent the said book unto him, willing him to get 
 it printed. And that thereupon he delivered the book to the said Bynnyman to 
 have it printed. Wells the scrivener being present with him; and said further 
 that Mr. Hall had paid him again the twenty nobles which before he had paid 
 the printer; and so he was then sequestred. 
 
 And the said Wells brought to the bar, upon his examination saith, that when 
 he was apprentice with one Mr. Dalton, a scrivener in Fleet Street, the said Mr. 
 Hall lying then about Pauls-wharf, sent unto his said master to send one of his 
 men unto him, and that thereupon his said master sent him unto the said Mr. Hall, 
 who when he came delivered to him a book in written hand, willing him to carry 
 it home with him and copy it out ; and said, that when he had shewed it to his 
 
XI 
 
 FROM DAWES’ JOURNALS. 
 
 master, his master commanded him to write part of it, and his fellows some 
 other part of it; and his said master as he remembreth did write the rest of it. 
 
 What his master had for the writing of it, he knoweth not. And being further 
 examined saith, that yesterday last past he delivered one of the said books to Sir 
 Randal Brierton from the said Mr. Hall, and then the said John Wells was se- 
 questred. And afterwards all the Privy council being of this house, Mr. Knight 
 Marshal, Mr. Recorder of London, Mr. Serjeant Flowerdewe, Mr. St. Leiger, 
 
 Mr. Cromwell, Mr. Atkins the Master of the Jewel-house, Sir Thomas Browne, 
 
 Sir Thomas Scott, Mr. Nathaniel Bacon, Mr. Beale, Mr. Norton, and Mr. Al- 
 ford, were added to the former committees for the further proceeding to the ex- 
 amination of the matter touching Mr. Hall, the printer, the scrivener, and all 
 other persons, parties or privy to the publishing of the said book, set forth in 
 print by the means and procurement of the said Mr. Hall, and to meet upon 
 Wednesday next at two of the clock in the afternoon in the Exchequer Chamber. 
 
 Which done Mr. Hall being brought to the bar again, Mr. Speaker declared 
 unto him that this house mindeth further to examine the particularities of the matter 
 wherewith they have charged him, and do therefore commit him to the Serjeant’s 
 ward with this liberty, that upon Wednesday next in the afternoon being ac- 
 companied with the Serjeant he may attend at the Exchequer Chamber upon the 
 committees in the cause, and was thereupon had out of the house. 
 
 Henry Bynnyman the printer, John Wells the scrivener, and Henry Shirland 
 linen-draper, being brought all three to the bar, were by Mr. Speaker injoined 
 in the name of the whole house to give their attendance upon the said committees 
 at the time and place aforesaid, and also at all times in the mean season thereof 
 if they shall happen to be called by them or any of them, and so were had out of 
 the house. 
 
 And further it is ordered by this house, that Mr. Speaker do send the Serjeant 
 for John Dalton, late master of the said John Wells, and to charge him also to 
 attend upon the said committees at the said time and place in like manner. 
 
 It is ordered, that Mr. Hall’s matter be examined by the committees to- 8 th Feb. 
 morrow in the afternoon, for that the same cannot be dealt in this day by reason 1580. 
 of the conference to be had with the Lords this afternoon at the court touching 
 matters of religion. 
 
 Mr. Vice-Chamberlain for himself and the residue of the committees ap- 14 .//* Feb. 
 
 pointed to examine Mr. Hall, the printer, the scrivener, and all other persons 1580. 
 
 privy to the setting forth and publishing of the book, declared that they had The conmiitte’s 
 charged the said Mr. Hall with contempt against this house the last session, in report, 
 that being injoined by this house to appear, he departed out of town in contempt 
 of the court; and afterwards testified the same his wilful contempt by an un- 
 seemly letter addressed by him to this house; and charged him further with divers 
 articles of great importance selected by the said committees out of the said book ; 
 as first, with publishing the conferences of this house abroad in print, and that 
 in a libel with a counterfeit name of the author, and no name of the printer, and 
 
containing matter of infamy of sundry good particular members of the house, 
 and of the whole state of the house in general, and also of the power and autho- 
 rity of this house, affirming that he knew of his own knowledge that this house 
 had de facto judged and proceeded untruly. 
 
 And was farther charged, that he had injuriously impeached the memory of 
 the late Speaker deceased, and had impugned the authority of this house in ap- 
 pointing committees without his assent ; and that in defacing the credit of the 
 body and members of this house, he practised to deface the authority of the laws 
 and proceeding in the parliament, and so to impair the ancient orders touching 
 the government of the realm and rights of this house and the form of making 
 laws, whereby the subjects of the realm are governed. And further was charged, 
 that since his being before the Lords of the Council for his said offence, and after 
 that he had received rebuke of them for the same, and had offered some form of 
 a submission, he had eftsoon again published the said book, and that whereas 
 upon his examination in the house he had denied the having any more than one 
 of the said books, it was yet proved he had twelve or thirteen, and six of them 
 since the time he was called before the said Lords of the Council. 
 
 Unto all which things as the said Mr. Hall could make no reasonable answer 
 or denial, so the said Mr. Vice-Chamberlain very excellently setting forth the 
 natures and qualities of the said offences in their several degrees, moved in the 
 end, that Mr. Hall being without at the door might be called in to answer unto 
 those points before the whole house, and so thereupon to proceed to some end ; 
 and therewithal perswading a due consideration of spending the time, as much as 
 might be, in matters of greatest moment, wherein much less hath been done this 
 session than in any other these many years in like quantity of time. And there- 
 upon after divers other motions and speeches had in the said matter, the printer 
 was brought to the bar, and being examined, avowed that Mr. Hall, after that he 
 had been before the Lords of the Council, came to him and told him that he had 
 answered the matter for the books before the Council, and that therefore the 
 printer might deliver the said books abroad ; and also where the said Printer 
 wished unto the said Mr. Hall since his last committing, that all the said books 
 had been burned before he meddled with them, Mr. Hall should say to him again, 
 he would not for a hundred pound. And then being sequestred. 
 
 Mr. Hall was brought to the bar, where after some reverence done by him, 
 though not yet in such humble and lowly wise as the state of one in that place to 
 be charged and accused requireth, whereof being admonished by Mr. Speaker, 
 and further by him charged with sundry of the said parts collected out of the said 
 book, he submitted himself to the house, refusing to make any answer or defence 
 at all in the matter, but acknowledging his errour, prayed pardon of the whole 
 house with all his heart; and that done, was sequestred. 
 
 After which upon sundry motions and arguments had, touching the quality 
 and nature of his faults, and of some proportionable forms of punishment for the 
 same, as imprisonment, fine, banishment from the fellowship of this house, and 
 
FROM d’eWES* JOURNALS. 
 
 Xlll 
 
 an utter condemnation and retractation of the said book ; it was upon the question 
 resolved by the whole house without any one negative voice, that he should be 
 committed to prison. 
 
 And upon another question it was likewise resolved, that he should be com- Hall to be im- 
 mitted to the prison of the Tower, as the prison proper to this house. prisoned in the 
 
 And upon another question it was in like manner resolved, that he should mon ths- 
 remain in the said prison of the Tower by the space of six months, and so much 
 longer as until himself should willingly make a retractation of the said book to the 
 satisfaction of this house, or of such order as this house shall take for the same 
 during the continuance of this present parliament. 
 
 And upon another question it was also in like manner resolved, that a fine 
 should be assessed by this house to the Queen’s Majesty’s use, upon the said Mr. 
 
 Hall, for his said offence. 
 
 And upon another question it was also resolved in like manner, that the said and fined 500 
 fijie should be five hundred marks. maiks. 
 
 And upon another question also it was likewise resolved, that the said Mr. Expelled the 
 Hall should presently be severed and cut off from being a member of this house House, 
 any more during the continuance of this present parliament; and that Mr. Speaker 
 by authority of this house should direct a warrant from this house to the Clerk 
 of the Crown-office in the Chancery, for awarding of the Queen’s Majesty’s writ 
 to the Sheriff of the said county of Lincoln, for a new burgess to be returned into 
 this present parliament for the said borough of Grantham, in lieu and stead of 
 the said Arthur Hall, so as before disabled any longer to be a member of this 
 house. 
 
 And upon another question it was also in like manner resolved, that the said The book ad- 
 book and slanderous libel should and shall be holden, deemed, taken, and adjudged 
 to be utterly false and erroneous, and that the same shall be publicly testified, libel, 
 affirmed, and set forth to be false, seditious, and erroneous in such sort, order, 
 and degree as by this house shall be during this session of parliament further de- 
 termined in that behalf. 
 
 Which done the said Mr. Hall was brought in again to the bar, unto whom 
 Mr. Speaker in the name of the whole house pronounced the said judgment in 
 form aforesaid, and so the Serjeant commanded to take charge of him and convey Hall committed 
 him to the said prison of the Tower, and to deliver him to Mr. Lieutenant of the to tJ» c lower. 
 Tower by warrant from this house to be directed and signed by Mr. Speaker for 
 that purpose. Which done and the said Mr. Hall being had away by the Ser- 
 jeant, it was agreed (upon a motion made by Mr. Speaker) that the whole course 
 and form of the said proceedings and judgment of this house against the said Mr. 
 
 Hall should be afterwards orderly digester! and set down in due form, to be first 
 read in this house, and then so entered by the clerk as the residue of the orders 
 and proceedings of this house in other cases are used to be done, and so it was 
 afterwards drawn into form, read unto the house, and entered by the clerk ac- 
 cordingly. 
 
XIV 
 
 A. hall’s CASE 
 
 8 th March , 
 1580 . 
 
 18//i March. 
 1580. 
 
 Hall not having 
 made a retrac- 
 tation, his case 
 referred to a 
 committee. 
 
 1 2th Dec. 
 1585. 
 
 13th Dec. 
 
 Mr. Lieutenant of the Tower, Sir Thomas Scott, Mr. Cromwell, Mr. Atkins, 
 and Mr. Norton, were appointed to confer together touching the answering and 
 satisfying of the contents of a letter written by Mr. Hall to Mr. Speaker, which 
 was here read in the house by the clerk, and delivered to Mr. Cromwell one of 
 the committees to be considered by him and the residue of the said committees 
 accordingly. 
 
 Whereas by a former order of this house Arthur Hall, Esq. was committed 
 prisoner to the Tower of London, there to remain by the space of six months, 
 and so much longer as until himself should willingly make a general revocation 
 or retractation under his hand in writing, of certain errors and slanders contained 
 in a certain book set forth in print and published in part, greatly tending to the 
 slander and reproach of Sir Robert Bell, Knight, deceased, late Speaker of this pre- 
 sent parliament, and of sundry other particular members of this house, and also 
 of the power, antiquity, and authority of this house, to the satisfaction of this 
 house, or of such order as this house should take for the same during the coutinu- 
 ance of this present session of parliament, as by the same order made and set 
 down by this house upon Tuesday being the 14th day of February foregoing in 
 this present session of parliament more at large doth and may appear : And where 
 also the said Arthur Hall hath ever since the said order taken, remained in the 
 said prison in the Tower, and yet still doth, and hath not at all made any revo- 
 cation or retractation of the said slanders, errors, and untruths, to the satisfaction of 
 this said house according to the said order ; It is now therefore ordered and resolved 
 by this house. That the further allowance of such revocation or retractation to be 
 hereafter made as aforesaid, shall be referred unto the Right Honourable Sir 
 Francis Knolles, Knt. one of her Majesty’s most honourable privy council, and 
 treasurer of her Highness’ most honourable household. Sir James Crofte, Knight, 
 one other of her Majesty’s most honourable privy council, and comptroller of her 
 Majesty’s said most honourable household. Sir Christopher Hatton, Knight, one 
 other of her Highness’ said most honourable privy council, and vice-chamberlain to 
 her Majesty, Sir Francis Walsingham, Knight, and Thomas Wilson, Esquire, 
 her Highness’ two principal secretaries, Sir Walter Mildmay, Knight, one of her 
 Majesty’s most honourable privy council and chancellor of her Highness’ court of 
 exchequer, and Sir Ralph Sadler, Knight, one other of her Majesty’s said most 
 honourable privy council and chancellor of her Highness’ dutchy of Lancaster, 
 being all members of this house, or unto any three of them, to be by them or any 
 three of them further declared and reported over unto this house in the next 
 session of parliament to be holden after the end of this said session accordingly. 
 
 On Saturday the 12th day of December, notice being given to the house of one 
 Mr. Hall, a member of the same, that had not attended all this parliament, it 
 was ordered that the Serjeant should give him warning to attend upon Monday 
 next. 
 
 The business of Mr. Arthur Hall, of which the house had been informed upon 
 their first meeting this morning, was before the rising of the house referred to Mr. 
 
FROM DAWES’ 
 
 JOURNALS. 
 
 XV 
 
 as Member. 
 
 Wolley, Mr. Cromwell, Mr. Diggs, and Mr. Sandes, to peruse the order touch- Hall^T^rnina- 
 ing the same against Monday next, being the day appointed by the house for the tion in the 
 said Mr. Hall to appear before them. Journals. 
 
 On Monday the 21st day of November (to which day the parliament had 215 * Nov. 
 been on Friday the 18th day of the said month foregoing last adjourned) Mr. 
 
 Markham, a burgess for the borough of Grantham in the county of Lincoln, Motion in behalf 
 shewed on the behalf of the inhabitants of the said borough, that Mr. Arthur of Granthanf on 
 Hall having been in some former parliaments returned a burgess for the said account of Hall’s 
 borough, and in some of the same parliaments, for certain causes the house then suit for his wages 
 moving, disabled for ever afterwards to be any member of this house at all, hath 
 of late brought a writ against the inhabitants of the said borough for his wages 
 (amongst other times) in attendance at the late session of parliament holden at 
 Westminster in the 27th year of her Highnesses reign ; during which time, as 
 also a great part of some other of the said former parliaments he did not serve in 
 the said house, but was for some causes as aforesaid disabled to be any member of 
 this house, and was also then committed prisoner to the Tower of London. And 
 so prayeth the advice and order of this honourable house therein, unto the censure 
 and order whereof the said inhabitants do in most humble and dutiful wise sub- 
 mit themselves. And so shewed the said writ, which was then read by the clerk. 
 
 After the reading whereof, and some speeches had touching the former proceed- 
 ings in this house against the said Mr. Hall, as well in disabling him to be any 
 more a member of this house, as also touching his said imprisonment, the matter 
 was referred to further consideration after search of the precedents and entries of 
 this house heretofore had and made in the course of the said cause. 
 
 On Friday the 2d day of December, upon a motion this day renewed on the Dec. 1586. 
 behalf of the inhabitants of the borough of Grantham in the county of Lincoln, 
 touching a writ brought againt them by Arthur Hall, Esq, whereby he demandeth 
 wages of the said inhabitants for his service done for them in attendance at sun- 
 dry parliaments, being elected and returned one of the burgesses of the said 
 borough in the same parliaments ; forasmuch as it is alledged that the said Ar- 
 thur Hall hath been heretofore disabled by this house to be at any time afterwards 
 a member of this house; and also that in some sessions of the same parliaments 
 he hath neither been free of the corporation of the said borough, and in some 
 other also hath not given any attendance in parliament at all ; It is ordered that Case referred (o 
 the examination of the state of the cause be committed to the Right Honourable a Committee. 
 
 Sir Walter Mildmay, Knt. one of her Majesty’s most honourable privy council, 
 chancellor of her Highnesses court of exchequer. Sir Ralph Sadler, Knight, one 
 other of her Majesty’s most honourable privy council and chancellor of her High- 
 nesses dutchy of Lancaster, Thomas Cromwell, Robert Markham, and Robert 
 Wroth, Esquires; to the end that after due examination thereof by them had, 
 
 (if it shall so seem good to them) they do thereupon move the Lord Chancellor 
 on the behalf of this house, to stay the granting out of any attachment or other 
 process against the said inhabitants, for the said wages, at the suit of the said Ar- 
 
XVI 
 
 A. hall’s case, &c. 
 
 thur Hall : And the said committees also to signify their proceedings therein to 
 this house at the next sitting thereof accordingly. 
 
 2\$t March , 
 1586 - 7 . 
 
 Report of the 
 committee on 
 the case. 
 
 Hall remits his 
 suit for wages. 
 
 “ An Order delivered by Mr. Cromwell , entered by consent of the House. 
 
 Whereas upon complaint made to this house (upon Monday the 21st day of 
 November in the first meeting of this present parliament) on the behalf of the 
 borough of Grantham in the county of Lincoln, against Arthur Hall, Gentleman, 
 that the said Arthur Hall had commenced suits against them for wages by him 
 demanded of the said borough, as one of the burgesses of the parliament in the 
 sessions of parliament holden the thirteenth, fourteenth, eighteenth, and twenty- 
 third years of the reign of our sovereign Lady the Queen’s Majesty, wherein it was 
 alledged that the said borough ought not to be charged as well in respect of the 
 negligent attendance of the said Mr. Hall at the said sessions of parliament and 
 some other offences by him committed at some of the said sessions, as also in re- 
 spect that he had made promise not to require any such w^ages; the examination 
 of the said cause on the second day of December, in the last session (mistaken 
 for meeting) of this parliament by order of this house was committed unto Sir 
 Halph Sadler, Knt. chancellor of the dutchy. Sir Walter Mildmay, Knt. chan- 
 cellor of the exchequer, Thomas Cromwell, Robert Markham, and Robert 
 Wroth, Esquires j This day report was made by the said committees that not 
 having time during the last session of parliament (mistaken for meeting) to ex- 
 amine the circumstances of the cause, they had in the mean season by their letters 
 advertised my Lord Chancellor, that the said cause was committed unto them, 
 and humbly requested his Lordship to stay the issuing forth of any further process 
 against the said borough until this session of parliament (mistaken for meeting), 
 which accordingly his Lordship had very honourably performed. And the said 
 committees did further declare, that having, during this session of parliament 
 (mistaken for meeting) sent for Mr. Hall, declared unto him the effect of the 
 complaint against him, they had desired him to remit the said w'ages which he 
 had demanded of the said borough, w’hom they found very conformable to con- 
 descend to such their request: and that the said Mr. Hall then affirmed unto 
 them, that if the said citizens of the said borough would have made suit unto 
 him, he would upon such their own suit then remitted the same, so was he very 
 willing to do any thing wffiich might be grateful to this house, and did freely aud 
 frankly remit the same ; which being well liked of by this house, it was by them 
 this day ordered that the same be entered accordingly.” 
 
A letter sent by F.A. 
 
 touching the proceedings 
 in a private quarell and vnkindnesse, 
 between Arthur Hall, and Mel- 
 
 chisedech Mallerie, Gentlemen, to his 
 
 very friend L. B. being in Italy. 
 
 With an admonition by the Father of 
 F. A. to him, being a Burgesse of 
 the Parliament, for his bet- 
 ter behaviour therein. 
 

 
 ' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
To the right worshipful 
 
 Sir Henrie Knevet Knight, 
 
 the Printer wishes, worship, health 
 and long life. 
 
 A FTER by an extraordinarye meanes 
 (good Knight) this letter with the 
 appurtenances in written hand, came 
 to be mette withall by mee, I was 
 of divers mindes, one way not to bestowe the 
 cost on such a trifle, an otherway not to con- 
 sent to the smothering of well disposed (as I 
 take it) persons, thirdly not to thrust out what 
 I found presupposed, with partiall minde to 
 harme innocents (as I conceive it) and having 
 preferred will (be it so) before reason, I yeelde to 
 you my labour and the setting my letters together, 
 praying with all, that my good will may be accepted 
 by you, who (I can well gather) a partic in this 
 tragedie, cou rites himselfe much beholding to : and 
 
the/ I might direct perhap my travel to men as it 
 seemeth of verie good availe, and friendes to 
 maister Hal in this case, yet (good Sir Henrie) 
 you shall have it, refuse it not, take in good part 
 part and glorie that your well doings deserves and 
 hath thanks, not for benefit growen of your good 
 motions, but for the rote of vertue joyned with 
 gentlemanlie minde, whiche not in this only but 
 in manie other actions layes open to the worlde, 
 and therfore needles for me to repeate : I leave as 
 I beganne, wishing you all prosperity. 
 
KNOW you have ere this expected my or- 
 dinarie letters, whiche are to you into Italie 
 from me out of England the remembrers, 
 and I hope preservers of our olde acquaint- 
 ance, I measure you by my selfe, for I am 
 most glad to reade his friendly lines, whose 
 presence, if I might, I woulde more willinglie 
 imbrace. You may not misdeeme for that I wrote not to you 
 this last moneth : so it is that since my last being with you in 
 Italie and els where, at whiche tyme, I desired to make my selfe 
 acquainted with the state of foray ne countries, I have sought 
 as well to learne what the horse meanes, as the carte : that is, in 
 my returne, I supposed I knewe all, bycause I had seene more 
 than my neighbours, but finding myne owne weaknesse, being 
 questioned withall of mere Englande , wherein for wante of expe- 
 rience, I coulde not answere, I found I had begon at the wrong 
 ende. I ranne to gaze upon Fraunce and knew not Kent: I vewed 
 Spayne , and never was in Devonshire : exactly (as I thought) I 
 judged of Italie, and never traveyled Wales : 1 came home by 
 large Germanie , wherein I supposed I had a pretie sight, and yet 
 not able to wade with you how the poore kingdome of Man is 
 sited. And as I was ignorant of the seate of this lande, so was I 
 further to seeke in the auncient rytes and usuall government 
 thereof. Which considered, and finding my self a member of 
 that body, I sought to mende my wante, and to beginne to take 
 a better course, rather late than never : wherefore I have since 
 my arrivall here, endevoured my selfe to understand mine owne 
 countrie : and my Father your well wisher, as you know, advised 
 me at my home comming, to be content rather to learne than 
 
2 gUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 teache, to be more willing to heare than speake, and that (quoth 
 he) you shall well finde, that young men stande better for the 
 most parte in their owne conceytes than there is cause. I am a 
 member of the grave, great, and considerate Councell of the Par- 
 liament, the whiche my roome, I will labour you shall have this 
 next Sessions (if God so please) wherein what you shall finde, 
 declare at your home comming. For wrastelers (quoth he) thinke 
 themselves strong men, till they meete with theyr betters : good 
 wits specially standing in their owne lightes, for affection sake, 
 can abide no disputacion. Take the best and leave the worst, 
 and you shall reape in fewe lines the travels of my olde yeares. 
 Reade me this shorte advice, whiche here I give you, and with 
 that retched me a small Booke of his owne hand writing, the 
 copie whereof, I sende you herewith. All this some will thinke 
 needelesse, as things not according to our usual advises. I 
 so confesse, but bycause I mean to leave the occurrents dayly 
 looked for, as newes, and to write to you of a case happened of 
 late here, whiche tho it be of no great importance, beyng the ac- 
 tion of meane and pryvate persons, yet twoo causes moves mee 
 thereto, whiche are these : The first for that men willingly heare 
 matters of those, with whome familiaritie and acquayntance hath 
 bene : Nexte, by cause I have hearde it often spoken, that it is 
 evill to belye the Devill, and that I see and heare suche untrueths 
 spredde abroade, and also I muste needes say, of some, who know 
 their woordes are wrongfully wrested, to the great prejudice of 
 the credite of Master Arthur Hall , (whose companie at Padoa , 
 the yeere 1568, you once were gladde of, and thought it a con- 
 tented meeting, whiche happened in that towne betweene you 
 two, I in companie, at Antenors tombe, where firste you had sight 
 one of an other) is the seconde occasion, that I write of this mat- 
 ter, at this presente unto you. First assure your selfe, that what 
 I deliver unto you, is most directly tolde, without leanyng eyther 
 to the one side or to the other, for I have taken great observation 
 in my collections, tho some perhappe will thinke, the matter de- 
 serves no suche travayle. To describe the man unto you, I thinke 
 I neede not, your knowledge of him in Italie f can sufficiently 
 judge what lie was: then you may remembre, God hath done his 
 
QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 3 
 
 parte on him, (as wee say in English) his capacitie, his sensible 
 tongue at will to utter his mynde, no wante of audacitie, of suf- 
 ficient courage, well disposed to liberalitie, lovyng and sure to his 
 friende, secrete where he is trusted, and I have founde hym to 
 have greate care of his worde, not wholly unlearned, with a 
 smacke of the knowledge of diverse tongues : the inclination of 
 the good partes whiche do budde in hym, I may not omitte, and 
 so lykewise not forget the taches of his mother Eve , which I find 
 in him, whiche are these : Overweenyng of himselfe, whiche 
 brings many infirmities to the persone whiche is infected with 
 that canker, furious when he is contraried, without pacience to 
 take tyme to judge or doubte the daunger of the sequele, as your 
 selfe is witnesse of his dealings at Rome , at Florence , in the way 
 betweene that and Bollonia , and at Bollania it selfe, the yeere 
 above named; so implacable if he conceyve an injurie, as Sylla 
 will rather be pleased with Marius, than he with his equals, in a 
 maner for offences growne of tryfles. But herein I have tolde 
 hym my opinion, whiche is, that sithe he will leane so muche to 
 his owne inclination, that God will sende a shrewde Cowe shorte 
 homes, whiche hetherto he hath done to hym. Also spending 
 more tyme in sportes, and following the same, than is any way 
 commendable, and the lesse, bycause, I warrant you, Non friget 
 ludus , for it is, sine lucro : the summes be great are dealte for. 
 Thus much for the firste persone of this Tragedie. Now as 
 touching the other, whiche was Master Melchisedech Mallerie , 
 I neede spende no great time aboute him, and that for two causes, 
 one, for that you knew him in Flanders of late time, as I could 
 put you in remembraunce by good tokens if I woulde : The other, 
 for as much as God hath taken him, and therefore, as De absen- 
 tibus nil nisi bonurn , so, De mortuis nil nisi optimum , he was (as 
 you know) of a good spryte, ready tongue, in audacitie forwarde, 
 what else he was disposed to is needelesse, for the causes before 
 recited, as I have partly sayd before. Some wise men will mer- 
 vayle, if this come to their handes, that I spende my time, to 
 wryte to you so long a treatise of so small a matter, as of the un- 
 kindnesse or quarell of two so meane Gentlemen, and therefore 
 thinke I have little to do, or lesse witte. I have mervayled oft 
 
4 OUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 what the wryters meant, to put to our readings the Rounde table 
 knights, Bevis of Hampton, the Knight of the Swanne, the foure 
 sonnes of Amon, Amadis , Orlando furioso, Esplandion il Cavalleire 
 del sole, Valentine and Orson the Greekes, Olgarden the Dane, 
 and a thousand more such tryfling Fables, yet do I see many men 
 of judgement read them, some for the tongue, and some for the 
 matter, reape benefite of both : likewise I may not so wholly con- 
 demne this my travell, wherein onely truth is reported, and ( Durus 
 est sermo, some will thinke) assuredly no falsifying of any matter 
 of substance, neither is my conscience in minimis, but as casually 
 men may fault : but that a man may profite himselfe in one of 
 the two partes, that is, for the matter, whiche if he well consider, 
 he shall finde more then perhap is looked for in so simple a Title : 
 there is not so evill a floure but the Bee may gather honey of it. 
 Who so desires to be delighted with Eloquence, let him spend 
 his time in other store houses, for here he shall but loose his 
 labour. If you will keepe to your selfe this Letter, or rather 
 missive Pamphlet, I shall be assured to avoyde the diverse verdites 
 of manyfolde judgements, and I am well pleased that you deeme 
 thereof as best shall like you. See the fruyte of play. 
 
 In the yere 1573, there was one Robert Phillipson, who, in 
 Lothbery in London kepte a table of twelve pence a meal for 
 gentlemen, where, the 16th of December the same yere, M. Hall, 
 M. Mallerie, M. Edward Cordall, M. Waterhouse, myself, and 
 diverse honest marchants of the towne supped, supper ended, the 
 dice was throwen on the borde, who must pleasure the good man 
 of the house by paying the boxe, and displease the whole com- 
 panie, by occasions, daylye falling out, as cousyn Germaines joined 
 in consanguinitve to so good an exercise : the sporte lasted not the 
 throwing oute of every bodyes hande aboute the board, (and yet 
 all the companye dyd not playe) but M. Mallerie gave the lye with 
 harde wordes in heate to one of the players, who either for quiet- 
 nesse sake, or for other cause, made small replye; whereuppon 
 M. Mallerie followed as he began : I canne yeeld you no reason, 
 neither yet if I could would I, for I am reporter now of the truth 
 in all partes, and not a declarer of my opinion as a judge. M. 
 Hall seemed to take the matter in hand, a thanklesse office (for 
 
QUARRELL BETWEEN M. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 5 
 
 speaking before hee was feed) and sayde, I marvaile, M. Mallerie, 
 that where there is suche company, which seeme honest, you will 
 to the prejudice of their small reputations use such unseemly 
 words. Mallerie made challenge that he would say so, who so 
 ever durst be his contrary. Wherupon Hall tickled, sware (as 
 he will not sticke to lende you an othe or two) that for hys gallant 
 challenge, it were a good deede, (being no greater a man, for he 
 was but little as you know) to throw him oute at the window. 
 Here Etna smoked, daggers were a drawing ; one rose from his 
 place, the other walked up and downe, they woulde have gone 
 together, but as God would they went not ; the goodman lamented 
 the case, for the slaunder, that a quarell should be in his house ; 
 the rest of the company wished quietnesse ; and, for my parte, I 
 found the parties themselves reasonably well disposed to friend- 
 shippe. The matter was ended for this fitte, with commemoration, 
 how well one loved an other : as many times of evil beginnings 
 comes worse ends : so now againe on the other side, honest and 
 friendly dealings well nient settes the towe on fire, for in Februarye 
 following, Master Rich. Drake, a gentleman well bearing him- 
 selfe alwayes, then attending upon my L. of Leicester, but now 
 the Queenes Majestyes servaunte in ordinarye, advised M. Hall 
 as his friende, to take heede to himselfe in playe, forasmuch as 
 he had some waies understoode of indirect dealings touching the 
 same : and specially for the giving signes of hys game at Mawe, 
 a play at cardes growne out of the country, from the meanest, into 
 credite at the courte with the greatest. Hall, toke his friendship 
 in good parte, as he had good cause, and craved withal to shewe 
 whom he mistrusted, who, as one not making tales on his fingers 
 endes, named Melchisedeck Mallerie , as a man to be doubted of. 
 In truth, quoth Hall , yesternight he trode on my foote, I being at 
 Mawe at Mistresse Arundels, the old and honorable ordinary table, 
 as I may terme it of England ; but what he ment thereby I know 
 not, I thinke no evil. 
 
 The eight of March after, there was at supper at one John 
 Crokes, who kept an ordinary table in White crosse streate of twelve 
 pence a ineale, Maister William Daunscy, Maistcr Drake before 
 named, Maister Nicholas Gorge, Maister Frauncis Woodhouse, 
 
6 ^UARRELL BETWEEN M. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 M. Hall y M. Mallerie y and one or two marchauntes : some of them 
 had bin at one sporte, some at an other, as I hearde themselves 
 report, and some shewed openly what cunning might be used at 
 play ; in the talking whereof I met them coming out of the dore 
 about ten of the clocke at night. Hall being passed not above 
 twenty yardes before the rest in the streate homewardes to his 
 lodging, discoursing one with another of the premisses. Master 
 Drake detesting such ungentlemanly shifts, began to condemne 
 such practises, and withal recited what reports w ent of some (not 
 naming any) who kept company w r ith the usual best gentlemen 
 in the town, condemning their degenerate kind (professing them- 
 selves of the breede) in yeelding to so base, so abject, and shame- 
 lesse an occupation, as to take the w orst parte of all parts of the 
 play in hand, which was, to give by secrete signes notice of his 
 cardes and playe, w hose good meaning would have truste a horse- 
 keper with a greater matter. At these w r ordes, or such like, M. 
 Mallerie replyed, and sayd, that it were good he were known that 
 used such lewde practises : why, quoth Master Drake, you are 
 suspected to be one of the number. With bye w r ords he denied 
 it, desiring where, how r , and of whom, he had bin so touched. 
 In generalitie, Maister Drake told him the opinion of many, his 
 own judgment, and withal, hinc illcz lachrimce, Maister Halls 
 speeches to him here before recited ; yet that he had small cause 
 to deeme evil of him, forasmuch as he had delivered them in so 
 good sort as he did. Two days after, being the tenth of March, 
 Mallerie came to Hall in Ponies, and w ithin my hearing charged 
 him very hotely, that he had reported him too be a cousiner of 
 folkes at Mavve. Halls answ eere was this (Maister George Freuel 
 a gentleman of my Lord of Sussex being by), M. Mallerie I 
 never sayde so, beleve mee, for I desire not to have to do in your 
 causes, in any respect. I went to Toyes shoppe, a stationer at the 
 sign of the Helmet, supposing this matter had bin ended, where 
 I saw r e togyther Hall , Mallerye, Freuel, and as it w r ere with them, 
 Maister Robert Audeley, a gentleman and fellow' to maister Fre- 
 uel, perceiving them to cluster togither like John Grayes birdc, 
 j ut dicitury who always loved company. I inclined to understande 
 some more of the matter. Mallerie vouched that Drake woulde 
 
OUARRELL BETWEEN M. IIALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 7 
 
 verifie, that Hall had saide as much as hee had charged him with in 
 Poules, wherewith M. Hall tolde him that he was assured so much 
 of Master Drakes honesty, as he w r ould never do it ; also that he 
 desired Mallerie to choose some body else out, to shewhimselfe on, 
 rather than on him, for that he desired quietnesse, and of all men 
 would have no question with him, as one from whom he could 
 purchase no reputation. The same afternoone it was my chance 
 to be at John Crokes, where there is a bowling alley of the half 
 bowle, w T hether doth repaire many Merchants and sundry gentle- 
 men, and in a Chamber above divers were at play: there was stand- 
 ing by M. Hall , MaisterDrake, Maister RichardeRich, M. Mallerie, 
 and four or five Londoners. Mallerie called Hall aside, tolde that 
 now Maister Drake was there, who would to his face affinne w hat 
 he had given out to him of his worde in Poules. They two wente 
 to him : he tolde Mallerie he had done him and M. Hall wrong, 
 for he never reported Halls speeches in such sort, neither could 
 justly do ; but that M. Hall did not only give judgment of him in 
 evil part, but rather semed to excuse, or at the least leave in 
 suspence the evil conceived opinion of him. M. Hall was patient, 
 though M. Mallerie were hoate, and w ente his w r ayes, not seeming 
 to heare harde w r ordes which Mallerie sent after him. So tem- 
 perate an end was much marvelled at of manye, and M. Hall 
 being demaunded w r hat he meant by so much suffraunce, answer- 
 ed, he was forced to be quiet; for, as I understode after, he was 
 then bound to the peace in no small summes for troubles in his 
 owne shire, wherewith I have nothing to doe, it touches not thys 
 matter. 
 
 Tyl the last of June, 1574, following, nothing happened that 
 I can lcarne, w orth the registering, betweene the parties, but evil 
 w r ordes in corners one of another, small to the reputation of him 
 whom they were reported of, and less to him who was the reporter. 
 The same day at one Wormes w r ho kept a table beside Fleete 
 bridge, in the late house of courtely and curteous Gilbert Walker, 
 at dinner time, being there present my lord Cromewel, M. Thomas 
 Farmer, Master Finchame, Master Boother, M. Sidnain, Master 
 Thomas Fisher, and others, M. Mallerie verye warmely beganne 
 to play with M. Hall (if such rough pastime may be counted 
 
8 QUARRELL BETWEEN M. HALL AND M. M ALLER1 E, 
 
 play) reporting him to be a knave, a foole, and a boy, and Maister 
 Farmer (like himselfe) bearing these wordes, sayde, hee mervayled 
 that Hall should be such a man, hardly beleeving the same, by- 
 cause hee knewe him as well as any other present. Mallerie fol- 
 lowed againe and prayed him to deliver to Hall hys wordes, for 
 (quoth he) a knave he is in denying his wordes he uttered of mee 
 to Drake : a foole, for that the last Parliamente he used in the 
 house such speeches, as he craved pardon, with protestation, 
 abandoning them, and confessing his folly : a boy, for that he 
 durst not goe into the fielde with mee. Maister Finchame, much 
 misliking such extraordinary table talke, and that of one absent, 
 tho Maister Farmer were appointed to do Malleries message, yet 
 did hee determine to give M. Hall knowledge of the same, and 
 comming into Poules, met wyth hym walking there, to whom he 
 declared the fore recited speeches of Mallerie , wherewith Hall 
 fetching as it were a great grone, sayd, Maister Finchame I am 
 greatly beholding unto you, for this your curtesie, and wherein 
 I am able you shall finde me ready to pleasure you. But what an 
 unhappy man am 1, to have any question with such a one as he 
 is, whose companye I have alwaies (as I might) avoyded, what 
 injury is this to be thus spoken of, in open place, where I am not 
 to answere? but be you, wyth indifferent eares judge, what un- 
 kinde dealing this is. As for the first part, wherein he charges 
 mee to be a knave, for reporting him untruly to maister Drake, 
 and then denying the same : I have witnesse enough how Drake 
 himselfe did in all pointes discharge me to his face, of all sinister 
 dealings therein. For that I am a foole, for matters paste in 
 Parliament, I meane no disputations, you have hearde enough 
 thereof. But howe fondlye so ever I did behave my selfe there, 
 I suppose it not a fit communication for an ordinary table. 
 A boy forsooth I am, for so it pleaseth M. Mallerie to terme 
 me, for not accepting his offer, to deale in quarell wyth hym. 
 Assuredly on my fidelity hee never himself or by other moved 
 any such thing to me, if he had I would have kept my selfe from 
 the same : I trust you take it not for feare : but if any gentlemanne 
 of accompte will accepte the quarell, I will so deale as belongs to 
 mee, or else confesse M. Mallerie hath, well reported: so ending 
 
QUARRELL BETWEEN M. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 9 
 
 with thankes to Maister Finchame, they departed. M. Halls 
 stomacke beganne to boyle, as some cause he had, and more if all 
 had beene true, and presently he wente to Maister Farmers lodg- 
 ing, whiche was harde by Worms, desirous to enquire more ex- 
 actly of the matter, tho Maister Finchams honestie and credite is 
 suche, as no doubt were to be made of his report in a farre greater 
 cause. Not finding Master Farmer, he went into Wormes, de- 
 sirous either to meete with him or M. Mallerie , the one for small 
 good will, the other for friendship. In the dyning roome he founde 
 maister Edwarde Gryvell, and maister Butcher, and saluting them, 
 he demaunded for Farmer, thoughe hys errand were as muche to 
 Mallerie: they made answere he had bin there, but now was 
 gone : wherewith maister Hall spying tlirowe the glasse window, 
 my Lord Souche, talking with another, and supposing it hadde 
 bene M. Mallerie , in some hast went into the cockpitte yarde too 
 him, and seeing my Lorde putting off his cappe, lefte him, and 
 still restlesse in his minde, he retournes to Poules, where hee meetes 
 Maister Farmer, of whom he receives as much as Maister Fincham 
 delivered, and so much more, as it is straunge that any man should 
 have the disposition to utter : At Maister Frauncis Woodehouse, 
 lying in Charter house Churcheyarde, at a lodging of my Lorde 
 Pagettes, there mette that nyght at supper maister George Che- 
 worth, maister Farmer, maister Fincham, and maister Roberte 
 Bale, where Malleries wordes were againe recited. Supper ended, 
 Hall went forthe in some soddaine, being required earnestlye to 
 tarye, but hee promising partly to retourne, departed, and finding 
 three of his men at the dore, (as in very deede he bathe kepte more 
 than his abilitie, as it is thoughte is able) thoughe he had more in 
 the Towne, who were slacker in attendaunce : with them (whose 
 names were Edward Smalley, John Nicholas, and Henry Wood- 
 ward) he went to Wormes, and found in the place, Maister 
 Butcher, Maister Fisher, and others, and at tables M. Mallerie 
 playing wyth Mayster John Spenser, sonne and heire to sir John 
 Spenser, and drawing his dagger, mente (as he saith) to have stroke 
 M. Mallerie therewith on the face, thoughe his backe were to- 
 warde him, Mallerie havying a glaunce of hys handc, bowed 
 downe hys hcade crying outc, wherewith M. llall beeing readye 
 
10 QUARRELL BETWEEN M. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 to have followed wyth an other blowe, he was helde, the house 
 growyng full, as with my Lorde Souche, many Gentlemen and 
 other, by the noise of the struggling, and Malleries crye, in 
 whiche time so recovering hymselfe, drue his dagger, and mighte 
 as easilie have slayne M. Hall beeing in handes as hee hadde 
 pleased : but what was his staye God onelye knowes. M. Hall 
 seeing himselfe in this daunger, and his dagger also in that mo- 
 ment wrested out of his handes, wyth greate furie saide, will you 
 holde me, while I am murdered : with that his three men, not 
 knowing any part of the quarrel came in, of the which John 
 Nicholas, having his dagger drawen, stroke over his Maisters 
 head to have hit Mallerie : and hee stouping downe before M. 
 Hall, scaped the blowe, saving a small cut in the backe part of his 
 skull, with the pointe, the hike light on his Maisters pate, and with 
 the part of the blade next the same, cutte his forehead. M. Mal- 
 lerie would have runne out of the doore, but Woodward having 
 his sword drawen, and knew not whom to strike, made him doubt. 
 Thebloud fell fast in M. Halls eyes, so that with the company, and 
 the wound he was quiet, yet wiping the same out as fast as he could, 
 he had a sight of M. Mallerie, and taking one of his mens daggers 
 from them, was pressing to Mallerie, who with a great shreke, 
 ranne with all speede out of the doores, up a paire of Stay res, and 
 there alofte used moste harde wordes asrainste M. Hall, as are be- 
 fore recited, moreover avouching he was a traytor, and indeede 
 left nothing out, which might almost be to the prejudice of any 
 honest mans good fame, and that in the hearing of Sir John Con- 
 way, Worme the good man of the house and others. My lord 
 Souche used some hote speeche to M. Hall, as hee was a dressing, 
 for that he used such disquietnes in his lodging, but sir John Con- 
 w'ay did very worshipfully satisfie my Lorde, so that no matter 
 grew' thereof. Among the rcste I remember, that M. Hall smart- 
 ing in being drest, advised the surgion to use him well, saying he 
 was beholding to his homes, that the wound was not greate: there 
 w as that remembered, the olde proverbe, that it was not good jest- 
 ing with edge tooles. The next day being the firste of July, M. 
 Mallerie was at dinner at W ormes, and therefore his hurt was not 
 very great, where maister Fincham was &c. there he gave it out, 
 
QUARRELL BETWEEN M. HALL AND M. MALL ERIE. 
 
 11 
 
 that he carryed a revenging mind, and would be revenged on 
 Maister Hall , if he could take him at any advantage. To very fie 
 such meaning, Master Edward Randal of London sente M. Hall 
 worde, that M. Mallerie hadde affirmed, that he would shew him 
 an Italian tricke, intending therby to do him some secret and 
 unlooked for mischiefe. Til the sixth of this month M. Hall lay 
 at Maister Frauncis Woodhouse his house, not being fit to go 
 abroade for his nurte, but with a mufle in maner halfe over his 
 face, yet upon busines he had in the countrie of Lincolneshire 
 where he dwels, he toke hys jorney thitherward the same day, 
 hiring post horses, and taking with him one Roger Moore, servant 
 to master Woodhouse, who w as very fit and in a maner acquainted 
 with the dressing of such hurts as M. Halls was. In his absence 
 M. Mallerie reported, that he w r as gone out of the to w ne disguised, 
 toke none of his owne men w ith him bycause he wolde not be 
 knowne, howe hymselfe lay to meete him by the waye (as indeede 
 he did) and mist the knowledge of him, and in diverse open places 
 offred ten pounde to any man could bring him into the fielde, that 
 hee might try the cause. 
 
 The 22d of July M. Hall came to London, w here he hadde 
 know ledge of many of M. Mallei ies defamations of him, yet the 
 time so served for it, it had pleased their noble good mindes, my 
 lords the Erie of Sussex, and Leicester, to accept in matching at 
 shooting M. Hall , that he directed himself to attend on their honors 
 the time of the progresse, to perfourme the matches set downe be- 
 tweene them, and therefore with as much speede as he could he 
 dispatched his businesse to the purpose, which sooner he had done, 
 wyth fulfilling of his duty, if his forehead had bin full hoale. The 
 second of August he went to the Courtward, and at Sudley, the 
 house of the Lord Shaundoys late disceased (now the old Ladies 
 joynture,) he found hermajestie, and so remained, til her highnesse 
 came to Winchester, where leaving the courte the 14th of Sep- 
 tember, he came to his own home into the country. At Mychel- 
 inasse terme follow ing he came up to London, and so continued, 
 M. Mallerie and he many times in sight one of another, and no 
 liarme done : but fatum is inevitable , else Troy perhaps had 
 stoode, so it might have bin this stage she we had not made so 
 many laugh. 
 
12 QUARRELL BETWEEN M. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 Of all dayes in the yeare it was the 29th of November, M. 
 Hall dyned at James Lumelies in Bishops gate streate, the son as 
 it is sayde of old M. Dominicke, borne at Genoa, of the losse of 
 whose nose there goes divers tales, but tho he wanted a piece there, 
 he wanted nether honesty, nor sensible good judgement. And 
 comming by master Arundels (lying in his way to his lodging, for 
 the men who owe money in Cheapside like not alwaies to be 
 pluckte by the sieve, and therefore toke Sainte Martines the next 
 way from Bishops gate to Pater noster Row), he found at dice 
 master Anthony Rush, master Drake, master Jasper More, master 
 Benjamin Hanam, and master Rich. Greene, and fell to do as the 
 rest : having tryed the pastime a while together, master Drake left, 
 the rest continued, in which time came M. Mailer ie uppe, and 
 pressed near M. Hall who was throwing the dice, who seing his 
 hautie gate and countenance, pluckt off his gowne from his right 
 arme, having a short gowne of velvet on, and threw his chaunce 
 out. Mallerie went thorow the rowme out of the upper dore, as 
 he had to do with some Gentleman in his chamber in the house, 
 wherewith Maister Drake came to Hall, and sayde, you stande in 
 doubte of him, he answered no, but least he strike when I am 
 otherwise occupied : quoth he, tende your play, mistrust not that, 
 I will mind him. He had no sooner spoken the worde, but Mal- 
 lerie returned, Hall styll throwing the dyce, and with his hande 
 on his dagger pressed forward, Master Drake, stoode betweene 
 them both, whiche Mallerie perceyving, or whether he woulde 
 not disquiet the companie, went to the ende of the horde, it being 
 square, and used the same behaviour, and then with the counte- 
 nance he entred the house, he departed. M. Hall as soone as he 
 had ended his throw, left play, and commyng into the hall, met 
 Smalley his man, to whom he saide, Jesus can you not knocke the 
 boyes head and the wall together, sith he runnes a bragging thus? 
 Smalley made answers he had not seene him : with this John Ni- 
 cholas who had hurte Hall his Master, as you have heard, began 
 somewhat to be sorry that he had not done as much as was spoken 
 of, and swore he should have it. Whereupon M. Hall charged 
 them in any case not to hurte him with any weapon, but if he 
 sought any matter, to cuffe him aboute the cares, saying, for the 
 
QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 13 
 
 rest I my selfe will take order. To Powels M. Hall comes, find- 
 ing in the Churclie M. Roger Townesende, M. Thomas Farmer, 
 and Master Frauncis Woodhouse, with whom walking, he de- 
 clared M. Malleries behaviour, at Arundels, in the midst of whose 
 speech Mallerie entered the Church, and passing twice or thryse 
 by Hally with great lookes and extraordinarie rubbing him on the 
 elbowes, with spurnyng three or foure times a Spaniel of M. Wood- 
 houses following his maister and maister Hally John Nicholas 
 went out of the Churche at the weste dore, and so did a pretie 
 while after him into the Churchyarde, M. Townesende, and M. 
 Woodhouse, w r ho both entred a booksellers shoppe, to looke on 
 Bookes. M. Mallerie with his man after him, went out at the 
 same dore. Nyeholas spying Mallerie past him, hasted after, and 
 ere he came to the two stoupes as ye goe to Ludgate, stept before 
 him, wherwith Mallerie drew his rapier, and bad his man take 
 him to his sworde and buckler, wdiiche both w r ere done, Nyeholas 
 his sworde not yet being out : a few r e blowes they dealt togither, 
 they two upon Halls man, w r ho they put in such daunger, and 
 might have done more, if they had well set themselves to it, as M. 
 Townesende and Woodhouse were aboute to will some of their 
 men to goe to his reskew: but at the instant, Edward Smalley 
 drewe to his fellow, and strikyng at M. Mallerky cut him downe 
 the cheeke, and so the play was marde. Also after Smalley came 
 one James Chamber, a servaunt of M. Hallsy who likewise drew 
 liis sworde, and his Maister charging him therewith, he did pro- 
 teste he did it to save M. Mallerie from more hurte, and to part 
 the business. Smalley returnes into Poules, and laughing came 
 to his Master, telling how he had given him a boyes marke, 
 wherewith M. Hall was greatly offended, beshrewyng hym very 
 earnestly. John Nyeholas was taken by the Constable, and M. 
 Hyggins the Scrivener being bound for him, lie was delivered. 
 After supper M. Ilatl came to Mistres Arundels, where Master 
 George Scot toke him aside, and demaunded of him whether he 
 were pryvie to M. Malleries hurte, he answeared of his fidelitie 
 and crcdite no, but was more sorry for it : yet withall, that he had 
 owed him a worse turne, but not to have bene in that sorte : yet, 
 quoth he, what is done cannot be undone, therfore now it must 
 
14 QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 be borne off with the head and shoulders : And that if any Gen- 
 tleman will defend his cause, I will so answeare hym as shall be 
 accepted of, and tho my men have done that which with all my 
 hart I wishe undone, yet may I not refuse them, neither will : 
 withall he told M. Scotte much of M. Mailer ies dealings to him, 
 with offer to prove them by men of worship and credite, so that 
 M. Scotte seemed satisfied, and very friendly advised M. Hall 
 to take heede to himself, whom he greatly thanked for his good 
 warning, tho he answered he mistrusted no harme. The first of 
 December M. Mallerie for his hurt, had the advise of M. Silva a 
 Piemontois, a practiser in Physicke and Surgerie, to whom he ut- 
 tered such thondering speeches against M. Hall y and such heavie 
 threates, that M. Silva mistrusted some great consequent would 
 follow, and being very often with the L. Katherine Dutchesse of 
 Suflolke, where diverse of M. Halls name and kindred be many 
 times conversant, and some attendant on hir, as a bountyfull wel 
 wisher to the whole family, declared to hir the danger he con- 
 ceyved was contrived against M. Hall: she very honorably gave 
 him notice thereof, yet in part did condemne the hurting of M. 
 Mallerie , for that some untruthes touching the same, had sounded 
 in hir eares. The third of December M. Hall late in the evenyng 
 being at M. Howes house a goldsmith in Cheapeside, and his men 
 attending at the dore, Smalley was arrested at M. Malleries suyte 
 of an action of the case, the damages a thousand markes, for his 
 hurt: his Master desired M. Henrv Gilbert, a Goldsmith next by, 
 and M. How to stande bounde for him, which most willingly they 
 did as persones to whome not onely at this time but at all other 
 occasions M. Hall had greatly bene beholding. During this pas- 
 time, M. Hall had great warning to have respect to himself, and 
 wheras he was oft to passe betweene London and his house in the 
 Countrie, the 4th of December M. Drake very friendly told him 
 he had heard speeches, which were, that he should hardly recover 
 his owne home when he should returne, for such as lay in the way 
 for him. The next day after M. William Hill, and one Walter 
 servant to Worme, gave M. Hall to understand how M. Mallerie 
 had with great protestation vowed to slay him. Tho these partes 
 must needes be disquietnesse to the persone of whose death so 
 
QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 15 
 
 many determinations were given out, yet surely I found M. Hall 
 made vertue of necessitie, what soever he thought, he shewed he 
 bare the matter light. 
 
 The 18th of December the Courte being at Hampton, maister 
 Hall supt at maister Comptrollers, Sir James Croftes, then and 
 now holding the office, where was my L. Talbote, my L. Northe, 
 Sir Henry Sidney now Lord deputie of Irelande, M. Gilbert Tal- 
 bot, M. Henry Grey, and M. Thomas Cornwallis, with others, as 
 my selfe &c. After supper the Comptroller and the Lordes going 
 to the presence, M . Cornwallis in the court where the Conduyte 
 standes, called M. Hall y and desired to speake with him. I re- 
 member the time well, for I walked by, attending M. Hall with 
 whome I had then somewhat to do : M. Cornwallis tolde him how 
 Frauncis Mallerie a brother of M. Malleries , had bene at the 
 Court, and there with open mouth so exclaimed of the misusing 
 of his brother, as M. Cornwallis himselfe seemed to mislike M. 
 Hall for some wantes layed to him, as that he durst not go into 
 the fielde with Mallerie his contrarie, how he set his men to hurt 
 him, and durst not do it him selfe, how shamefully he was over- 
 matched and striken behinde : and this did not onely M. Corn- 
 wallis conceive against M. Hall f but many of the best stoode now 
 in suspence (by this meanes) of they r judgement of him, of whom 
 heretofore they never made doubt. M. Hall openeth the matter 
 to M. Cornwallis, and withall what he durst do, they were both as 
 it pleased him to beleeve them, but I thinke he departed better 
 satisfied. The next day after, Sir Jerome Bowes hearing all places 
 ring how M. Hall should die the death, gave him warning care- 
 fully to looke to himselfe. The 28th day M. John Wotton gave 
 M. Hall notice that Francis Mallerie and his brother had it in 
 talke, with secrete fire in his lodging to be revenged on him. The 
 23d of the same moneth M. Hall went out of London, and safely 
 came to Grantham to his house. The 22d of Januarie he returned 
 to London, and the 26 th of the same worde was brought him, that 
 M. Mallerie had caused Edward Smalley, John Nicholas, and 
 James Chambers, at New gate Sessions to be indited for drawing 
 theyr swoordes in the Churchyarde on him, the law being that 
 therefore they should lose their eares. The 24th of the same 
 
16 QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 moneth M. Mallerie supte at the Popes head in Lomberd streat, 
 where were M. Cotton and other Gentlemen, and many marchantes 
 of the towne, as Thomas Wilforde, Richarde Smith, Henry Sher- 
 land and other: he began to fall to his old by as, with lyke wordes 
 as you have hearde heretofore, all edging he had heard Hall was 
 perjured, but he would not say he was a perjured knave, with 
 speeches as some seemed soundly to herken to, so M. Wilforde as 
 one not forgetting (tho now professing merchandise) that he came 
 from the bloud of gentrie, coulde not allow of such ungentlemanly 
 wrongs, and therefore very roughly replied against M. Mallerie, 
 a part more commendable than common, among men of his Cote, 
 who I have found oftener readier rashly to beleeve evill reportes 
 of a Gentleman, than deliberating indifferently to judge of the 
 truth. The 30th of the same moneth M. Hall was dryven to 
 trudge to stay the proceeding against his men, for theyr indite- 
 ment, for M. Mallerie followed it with hoate suyte : he repayred 
 to the court to my L. of Leicester, to whom he reported the daun- 
 ger his man stode at, and craved his letter to M. Fleetewood the 
 Recorder of London, that favour might be shewed therein, the 
 case being very harde, the whiche my Lorde most honorably and 
 willingly performed, and thereby the matter was a while stayed. 
 The 6th of February M. Hall arrested M. Mallerie upon the 
 action of the Case, for his slaunderous reportes, and Mallerie 
 having aboute him a pocket dag charged, delivered the same 
 closely to one Warde a Sergeant. Smalley the next day hearing 
 hereof, came to his Master with the newes, who presently resorted 
 to the Counter in Woodstreate to the sayde Warde, and moste 
 earnestly and courteously desired to see the dagge, w hiche at the 
 first he denied he had, but the standers by vouchyng the contrary 
 to him, dogge fashion he consented, but answered he would not 
 shew it. M. Hall, went to Anthonie Gamadge, an occupier of 
 linnen clothe, then Sheryfe of London, finding hym in his shoppe 
 in Cheapeside by the ende of Soper lane, to whome he declared 
 that M. Mallerie carried dagges in his hose to murder him, as him- 
 selfe did report: how M. John Wottons man two dayes past sent 
 him w'orde that Mallerie had watched him in the night diverse 
 times to mischiefe him, how Warde the sergeant had the dagge 
 
OUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 17 
 
 yet charged delivered him yesterday by M. Mallerie. With much 
 ado Gamadge sent for Warde, (I Maister him not, by cause in 
 Norfolke I know his pedigree) who brought him the dagger him 
 selfe found it charged. M. Hall desired some order might be 
 taken therein, I think in my conscience rather to have Mallerie 
 troubled, than for any feare he had of the matter, but all was one, 
 for he had a colde answere of our London Sheryfe, yet suche a one 
 as he must be contented with. 
 
 The 21st of February M. Hall w r as at Guyldhall to see the end 
 of Malleries action agaynst Smalley, and with him M. Roger 
 Townesende, M. Frauncis Woodhouse, and diverse others, till 
 w hich time M. Mallerie had deferd for the triall, because he w ould 
 have the Jurie fall in that parte of Cheapside, where his father did 
 before his death dwell, for so is the maner of the Juries in London, 
 that they serve by turnes, yet the number not being full, it was for 
 this time dashed. The nexte day againe they came thether :* M. 
 Mallerie brought for his counsell Mr. Bromley the Q. Solyciter, 
 M. Weeks, and M. Fuller: and Smalley had for him, M. Daniell, 
 M. Maltas, and M. Kitchin : the issue was Quod transgressio per 
 Edwardum Smaley facta fuit ex injuria propria , whiche he did 
 denie it read as the maner is to the Jurie appearing and called 
 good men and true, as M. Cryer saj^de : M. Fuller firste began 
 to speake to the matter, and very earnestly charged M. Hall with 
 malicious and implacable dealyng, with such a desire of his owne 
 will to be satisfied, as he cared not for the casting away of five 
 hundred poundes if he might purchase the same : liowe he came 
 to Wormes, how he hurte M. Mallerie , how still he followed the 
 revenge with an Italian mynde learned at Rome (altho M. Fuller 
 never came in Italie and less at Rome, neyther yet was ever ac- 
 quaynted with M. Hall, and therefore as blinde men be to be borne 
 withal if they coinuiitte an errour, so M. Fuller speakyng for his 
 clyent is not w holly to be condemned), tho M .Hall was never named 
 in the Nisi prius , neyther touched in the recordes : M. Recorder 
 advised M. Fuller to go to the matter and not to tarie upon the 
 declaration of Hulls disposition. After Fuller followed M. Soli- 
 cyter, not with vaine speeches, and as very learnedly, so no lesse 
 gravely aud discretely : then were deposed for M . Mallerie in his 
 
18 QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 behalfe, his owne Servant, and one Thomas Hewes : his man al- 
 ledged that three of M. Halls men were upon him and his Master, 
 how Nicholas drew first. Hewes coulde say little, but that he 
 sawe them togither and M. Mallerie hurt. Eglestone a Gold- 
 smith also being sworne, affirmed he sawe three men upon his 
 Cousin Malleries man (for so he called him) and his Cousins cheeke 
 hurte and lying on his shoulder. Of the contrarie parte were 
 sworne two honest and worshipful Gentlemen, who stood by and 
 advisedly marked the whole ffaye, M. Roger Townsende, and M. 
 Frauncis Woodhouse afore named: theyr free hold which in the 
 common Law of England is in such cases much respected, is large, 
 and yet not so large, as their credites for theyr upright dealings, 
 whiche among all men is in othes to be most accompted of : they 
 avouched that as soone as John Nicholas M. Halls man had passed 
 M. Mallerie , that he drew his rapier and dagger, and bad his man 
 draw his sworde, before Nicholas had his weapon out, and that 
 they dealt certaine blowes togither before Smalley came in, and 
 that with such daunger to Nicholas, as they themselves loked he 
 should have bene mischieved. Further of Malleries hard usage 
 of Hall as is recited before, the Councell argued the matter to the 
 Jurie, who went togither, and M. Hall and the rest to dinner to 
 the Horse head in Cheapside, where there dyned M. Townesend, 
 M. Woodhouse, M. Frauncis Leake, M. Drake, John Crouke, and 
 my selfe: at the sitting downe to dinner M. How the goldsmith 
 came in, who had hearde the matter past in Guilde hall, saying he 
 was afrayed the Jurie would give great damages : wherewith M. 
 Hall demaunded with what conscience they could do it, if they 
 considered theyr evidence, the manner of the acte, and the con- 
 dition of the persons betweene whome the action depended : every 
 man spake his judgement, not being of M. Howes opinion. In 
 fine, they grew to particular summe, what would be awarded to 
 M. Mallerie , and M. Hall gave Howe a Portegue, he to retume 
 two for it if they condemned Smalley in lesse than sixty pounde, 
 if above he to have it. This tyme M. Mallerie rested in Guylde 
 hall, for two causes, one to see the sequele of his matter, the other 
 he durst not come forth, understanding that M. Hall had layed 
 to arrest him agayne for the action of the case of more wordes : 
 
QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 19 
 
 duryng whicbe time Thier, the foreman of the Jurie came forth, 
 enquyring for M. Mallerie , who was not found, for he had hid 
 himself for fear of arrest : he then talked with Richard Mallerie 
 his brother, walking with him in the hall, which one Guy toke ex- 
 ceptions too, bycause the verdite was not given up : Thier goes in 
 againe to his fellowes, and presently they gave up theyr verdite, 
 which was, Smalley must pay a hundred poundes for damages, and 
 twelve-pence for costes. Guy brings this newes to M. Hall at the 
 horse head, and with him M. Edwards the goodman of the house : 
 whereat who rages now and takes the matter in dudgion but M. 
 Hally who exclaimes now of his trustie and well spoken of friends 
 the Londoners, who now repents of the defences to his abilitie he 
 hath made for them in all places, where any thing was spoken to 
 theyr rebuke : who now condemned himself for standing so much 
 in his owne conceyte, to beleeve well of theyr good willes to him 
 and his : who now finds that the paying of xxv in the hundred in 
 usurie, and more than is reason gayne in a yarde of silke or stuffe, 
 did made hym have so many Caps, and fayre countenances but 
 he ? and yet must l needes confesse, that in all his choller and 
 heate he acknowledged himselfe as much bounde to some Mer- 
 chantes within the walles of London, as any Gentleman ever was, 
 allowing many to be worshipfull, grave, and wise Cytizens. Well 
 what will you have more? the kyll is a fire: the nexte day M. 
 Hall gettes him to his footecloth, and trottes to Grayes Inne : 
 there he desired M. Kitchin to shew M. Sergeant Lovelace who 
 was at the reading in the hall, that he was desirous to speake with 
 him about the businesse in hand, who understanding betweene 
 whome it was, refused to be of Counsell therein, for that M. Mal- 
 lerie had made him privie thereto before, and desired that he 
 would be assistant to him : then to the Temple goes M. Hally and 
 confers with M. Anderson what now is best to do, beyng not so 
 carefull to save the money his men shoulde pay, as desirous to 
 Crosse M. Mallerie f and to make him recken therein without his 
 host. M. Anderson did mervayle at the excessive damages that 
 the Jurie founde, and advised that taynt to be used, whicbe no 
 w r ay liked M. IJally alledging that it was impossible to touche 
 them with perjurie, who shoulde be tried by theyr neighbourly 
 
20 QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 peeres, and that he coulde not finde any president in the lyke, 
 whereby any hope was to be had : agreed it was, a writte of errour 
 should be brought. 
 
 The 25th day M. Anderson came to Guildhall, there sitting 
 Sir James Hawes then Mayor, Sir Lionell Ducket, Sir Rowland 
 Hayward, and the Recorder, he alledged diverse poyntes wherein 
 errour was committed, also the talking of the foreman Thier, 
 with Richard Mallerie , wereupon judgement was stayed. The 
 nexte day after, the Mayor, diverse of the Aldermen, and the 
 Recorder sitting, M. Daniell and M. Kitchin moved the Court 
 for stay of judgement, and so was it graunted till the firste day of 
 the Terme following, with craving heede to be taken for amend- 
 ment of the Recorde, whiche by M. Recorder, and M. Seabright 
 the towne Clerke, was willingly and perfectly graunted. The 
 firste of Marche M. Mallerie went to the Court, and used very 
 harde reportes to my Lord Chamberlayne (then the Earle of Sus- 
 sex, and now also,) of M. Hall , whose sounde and honorable judge- 
 ment is not caryed away sodenly to deeme evill of auy Gentleman 
 with the affectioned minde of an adversarie. The nexte day after 
 M. Mallerie went but to the hyest, opening his griefe to hyr Ma- 
 jestie howe lewdely he was hurte, how violently layed to, how 
 unable to revenge the injurie offered him, how empoverished in 
 purse, and damnified in person, moste humbly desiring hyr high- 
 ness of Justice, and not to graunt hyr pardon to M. Halls men, 
 who stoode indited as you have hearde : hyr Majesties answeare 
 was, that he should have Justice, and that she never was hasty in 
 pardoning, neyther neede he feare the same. This tale must he 
 needes deliver also to my Lord Treasorer (my Lord Burley), to 
 the whiche giving good eare, as his manner is to all suyters be 
 they never so meane (no usuall thing to men in his place), he tolde 
 M. Mallerie he was sorry if all were true he tolde him : and I 
 surely thinke he woulde so have bene, for how tenderly he hath 
 alwayes loved M. Hall in his youth being brought up in his house 
 at Schole, how carefully he hath favored hym beyng his servaunt, 
 and what bountie he hath used towarde hym, since he preferred 
 him to hyr Majesties service, all the worlde knowes. 
 
 The 9th of May M. Mallerie arrested M. Hall in Westminster 
 
QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 21 
 
 With a byll of Middlesexe for hurting hym at Wormes. The 
 18th of May 1575, at the Sessions at Newgate was M. Mallerie 
 and his man indited upon the Statute, for drawing weapon in the 
 Churchyarde. The 10th of June M. Sergiant Harper, and M. 
 Sergiant Manhood, Justices of the common pleas, came downe 
 into Guyldhall in London, where the recordes were redde, and 
 found by Smalleys counsell to be amended. The 13th of the 
 same moneth M. Hall went to M. Seabright the towne Clerke, 
 and founde him selfe grieved for the mending of the Recorde, 
 who made answeare that the Mayor with charging wordes, com- 
 maunded him to do that which he did, whiche was, that whereas 
 there was no mention in the Recorde, that Smalley did appeere 
 in the Mayors Court there, by himself or his atturney, that he 
 should put in his appearance, for that forsooth M. Hodgeson, 
 Smalleys Atturney, confessed he had receyved his fee therfore. 
 The 22d of June the Judges came agayne to Guyldhall, and sat 
 aboute the errours, appoynting the first Friday of the next Terme 
 for the further proceeding in the matter. The 8th of September 
 M. Mallerie died at the signe of the Antlop in Smithfielde, he 
 forgave M. Hall , yet with confession that if he had lived, he 
 would have bene revenged : he departed well leanyng to the olde 
 Father of Rome, a dad whome I have heard some say M. Hall 
 doth not hate. In November following William Huyt the ser- 
 vant of M. Andrew Mallerie, taking the administration of M. 
 Melchisedech Malleries goodes and cattels, by the advise of his 
 Master, altho , Francis Mallerie and an other of the brothers were 
 appoynted by the dead man, executors, sued the recognisance 
 w hich was knowledged, for the following of the writ of error with 
 effect. The 25th of Januarie M. Harper and M. Manhood came 
 downe to Guildhal, and there according to the first verdite and 
 judgement given by the Recorder, wherupon the writte of error 
 was brought, they proceeded with the like, so that Smalley must 
 pay 104 pound 2 shillings, the overplus of which summe, it being- 
 above a 100 pounds and 12 pence given by the Jurie at the first, 
 was for charges. The judges appoynted that a w r arrant shoulde 
 be made out, for the attaching of Smalley, it retornable 15 dayes 
 after, during whiche time if he coulde not be mette with, Huyt 
 
 E 
 
22 QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 should have out execution against the suerties, who were as you 
 have heard M. Henry Gilbert, and M. Richard How, both very 
 sufficient men for an other maner of summe. During this time 
 wherein Smalley should be found, M. Andrew Mallerie with tooth 
 and nayle followed the execution of the judgement, for drawing 
 in the Churchyarde, meaning that if he coulde not prevayle 
 therein, yet at the least he hoped that the terrour thereof would 
 make Smalley absent himself, and so at the terme appointed for 
 the attachment of him, there shoulde be returned a non est in- 
 ventus, whiche was his desire, knowing very well that the suerties 
 would make ready payment of the condemnation : for thus much 
 you must take with you, altho’ William Huyt servaunt to M. 
 Andrezo Mallerie , were the administrator of M. Melchisedech Mai - 
 leries goodes and Chattels, yet was the matter wholly followed by 
 M. Mallerie. The reason why Huyt tooke this office on him was, 
 that the benefit of this money had, it should be payed over as 
 best pleased the deceased Malleries brothers : for that I thinke 
 his wealthe was not great nor hardly of sufficiencie to answere his 
 debtes. The 4th of February M. Hall brought to the Towne- 
 elerke a Cerciorare out of the Kings bench to remove the Indite- 
 ments of his men, wherby they were stayed till the next terme, 
 intending that if there were a pardon at the Parliament, they 
 would be dispensed with. M. Hall found M. Seabright very 
 willing to do what he might by law, and accordingly dealt therin, 
 not sending the Inditements up. The 7th day M. Hall sent 
 Smalley and Chambers to the Counters to put in a Caveat that he 
 was of the house, therefore that none of his men shoulde be ar- 
 rested, and also wrote by Smalley to M. Onesley Clerke of the 
 house, for a writte of priviledge for him, who returned answere 
 he coulde not do it, till he were arrested : M. Mallerie on the 
 other side for the Inditements, hastes the case so, that the former 
 helpes may not serve, and for not performing the firste course 
 taken, a fine of forty pound was set upon M. Seabright, where- 
 fore a newe way muste be had. M. Hall hyes him to Grayes 
 Inne and to the Temple, where the 8th of the same moneth by 
 his counsell it was concluded to traverse the Inditements, and 
 presently to put in the same, wherin was used speede enough, and 
 
' QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 23 
 
 so was this gappe stopt, and M. Malleries labour lost: during this 
 Smalley had bene at the Counter diverse times, and demaunded 
 whether there were any processe out against him, none was founde. 
 The very same day the Parliament began, of the which M. Hall 
 was a Burgesse for the towne of Grantham, whereof we have 
 talked oft: the nexte day after, Smalley goes to Guildhall, and 
 takes with him Mathew Kyrtleton his Masters Scholemaister, and 
 then not seeming they were of knowledge one with an other, 
 Smalley walked up and downe in the hall, and Kyrtleton goes to 
 the ordinarie place where M. Mosley one of the Secondaries of 
 the Counter sat, and sayd, if you have any processe against Ed- 
 ward Smalley, yonder he is, attache him, for I am M. Malleries 
 friende : nothing was done in the cause, for in truthe, the warrant 
 was not yet out. The nexte day beyng the laste day of the re- 
 turne, and that by two a clocke, Smalley sent to the Counter, to 
 heare of this warrant, all was whusht, at Westminster all the 
 Courtes rysing, it was delivered by the yonger Mallerie to M. 
 Mosley, who seying it retornable, in a manner within two houres 
 after (quicke speede pretended or not to finde they looked for ex- 
 pected) sayed how may I do any thing with so small a warning ? 
 M. Mallerie answered, returne non est inventus , quoth he, that can 
 I not do, for I see the partie every day before my face, well this 
 man must be sought, who would be found, and that for two causes, 
 one, some small hope he had, (tho’ his learned counsell had tolde 
 him the contrary, as M. Colbye, and some Judges of the Lawe) 
 that the pryveledge of the Parliament woulde discharge him, if 
 they would unadvisedly attache him : the second, beying greatly 
 desirous to shevve himselfe honest towarde his sureties, knowing 
 that he should not long lye in pryson, if his Maister were able to 
 provide the money : aboute one a clocke he goes into the Counter 
 in Woodstreat and demaundes againe after this warrant, where 
 one of M. Mosleys men sayed, his Master would speake with him, 
 he answered he would anone goe to him, Mosleys man comming 
 out of the gate, called Grace a sergeant to him, and sayde, see 
 you yonder yeman going in the redde hose with his fellow in the 
 greeneclokc? hee answered yea: will him (quoth hee) to go to 
 my master, for thither he muste : Smalley told the Sergeant hee 
 
24 QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 woulde willingly goe, and so they three (the third being James 
 Chambers M. Halls man) went to M. Moslys house, where they 
 comming before him, he thus began to Smalley or in such like 
 wordes. What doest thou meane fellow, to rotte in pryson, and 
 to lose thine eares ? if my hap be such (quoth he) I may not do 
 withal, I would not have my suerties troubled : wilt thou then 
 (reply ed Mosley) yeelde thyself prisoner, and discharge thy suer- 
 ties? Chambers hastely answeared no, that he should not: whereat 
 M. Mosley was offended, and therewith followed Smalley, and 
 sayde, he would not so do. M. Mosley perswaded him to sue to 
 Mallerie for agreement : he answeared, he had so done, and caused 
 it to be broken to the Judges, and that they did make no ende : 
 Mosley then commanded the Sergeant to the arrest, bidding him 
 shew his mace, the Sergeant demaunded wherefore, M. Mosley 
 gave him the warrant and read it, which done and Smalley arrest- 
 ed, Mosley tolde him he was now in a good case, to rotte in pry- 
 son and loose his eares : The Judges were this afternone to heare 
 what was done touching the laste proceedings, and therefore 
 Smalley as a prysoner was had to Guyldhall to attend the com- 
 ming of them. M. Hall came also thether, and tolde Mosley, 
 that he had done his man wrong to arrest him, he beying of the 
 Parliament, who seeming sory therefore, excused himself by igno- 
 rance, and that hee would not have so done for I can not tell howe 
 muche, if hee had had notyce thereof : M. Hall alledged that he 
 had sente to the Counter to declare the same, one of his owne 
 menne beyng in the office when it was done, and one Thomas 
 Ulmes an officer also. He perswaded talke to be had betweene 
 the Malleries and M. Hall , they beyng in the place, but greate 
 harte would not suffer the parties to meete, for betweene curtesie 
 who shoulde beginne, prowde menne looked one on an other, till 
 the Judges came, who sette, the prysoner was brought in, M. 
 Mosley declarying the exceptions Hall tooke that his man was 
 arrested, and desired some ende, bycause he was lothe to have the 
 matter brought in question in the house, confessing that Smalley 
 did not willingly yeelde himselfe : the administratour was de- 
 maunded for by M. Harper, who not appearing, Andrew Mallerie 
 answered, he had his Atturney, and himselfe was he. M. Harper 
 
OUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERJE. 25 
 
 asked whether he woulde take execution or no, breathing a whyle 
 he sayde, if he shoulde refuse it he had no remedie, and therefore 
 he must accept it. M. Manhoode moved some ende betweene the 
 parties, alledging that the cause was motioned to them bothe before 
 this, for that purpose : M. Hall sayde that he remayned the man he 
 was, and did condiscende thereto, so that they woulde very shortly 
 deale therein: M. Mallerie also agreed, provided that Hall shoulde 
 not proceede touching the liberties of the Parliament in the meane 
 tyme. The nexte day was appointed for the hearing, in Sergeants 
 Inne in Chancerie Lane, of all matters touching this question, and 
 were compromitted to M. Justice Harper, and M. Justice Manhood. 
 Smalley tooke up his lodging in the Counter in Woodstreat: ac- 
 cording to appoyntment, the parties mette in M. Sergeant Harpers 
 chamber, Andrew ) Mallerie bringyng with him his brother Richard : 
 where M. Hall laying for himselfe the excessive damages the 
 J urie gave, and the benefite of the Parliament whiche he meant 
 to trie, withall the meane estate of his man, the partie also being 
 dead, perswaded consideration to be had, and the inconsiderate 
 largesse of the liberall Jurie, to be mitigated by the just and 
 conscionable dome of so grave umpeers : M. Andrew) Mallerie 
 did aggravate the hurting of his brother, his often molestation by 
 arrests, his charges in the suyte, the great delayes therein, the 
 daunger Smalley and his lellowes stoode in for the Inditement, 
 the advantage was had for the breach of the recognisance, not 
 omitting the question might be made for the death of his brother, 
 who died within a yeare after his hurt : many speeches paste what 
 woulde be given and what accepted. M. Hall came to a hundred 
 poundes, for the ending of all controversies, tho’ for the death of 
 Mallerie he made no reckening, neytheryet tooke any care for the 
 Inditement. The Justices moved M. Hall to a hundred and twentie 
 pounde, and woulde willingly have had him come to a hundred 
 and ten pounde, which he refused, laying therfore that the whole 
 condemnation was but a hundred & foure pound and two shillings. 
 Thus time spent and nothing done : the Chamber court brake up, 
 till the 25th. M Hall looked whether his offer would be accepted, 
 and that morning brake the matter of arrest to M. Robert Bell 
 the speaker, before he went in, who willed him to move the house 
 
26 OUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIK. 
 
 thereof, which at his comming in he did. It was agreed he shoulde 
 stay till the companie were full: shortly after M. Hall took this 
 matter in hande, declaring as much of Smalleys arrest as you have 
 hearde : wherewith it was ordered, that Grant the sergeant, and 
 Huyt should come thyther before them the nexte morow' : Ac- 
 cording to the same, the Sergeant attended, but the other not : 
 M. Hall gave knowledge that the Sergeant was without, who 
 being called in, he confessed he had arrested Smalley by Mosleys 
 commaundement, declaring worde for worde the whole matter, at 
 the counter, and in Mosleys house, as ye have hearde. There 
 were appointed by the house, sir Nicholas Arnold, sir Owen 
 Hopton, and Sergeant Lovelace, Committees to examine and 
 searche out the whole dealings of the cause. After dinner, the 
 two knightes came to Maister Lovelace his chamber in Chancerie 
 lane at Sergeants Inne, the place apointed for the conference, 
 wyth whome was also Maister Hall. The speaker sente to the 
 Committees, praying them to come to his chamber, whiche they 
 did in the Temple: there they founde hymselfe, Sir Wylljam 
 Winter, mayster Popham a Lawyer, and mayster Roberte Snagge: 
 maister Mosley confessed hee had caused Smalley to bee arrested, 
 and sayde nothing for himselfe, but that hee knewe not M. Hall # 
 to be of the house : it was answered him, he ought to take notice 
 thereof hymselfe, it was proved there by Thomas Ulmes one of 
 the Counter, that James Chambers had before the arrest given 
 know ledge at the Counter of the same : Mosley forced muche 
 that Smalley yielded himself, yet was it proved that he demaund- 
 ing him the same question, hee aunsw ered he would not : bycause 
 there was some speeche of cautelous dealyng in the matter, and 
 that not wholy clearyng M. Hall to suche as are more curious to 
 spye a moate in an other mans eye, than a greate blocke in their 
 owne, and will not sticke to spende greate time to defame men 
 with untruthes, and no pece of an houre to consider their owne 
 w r antes. M. Hall declared to the Committees howe hee hadde 
 sente to the Counter worde of his beeing a member of Parliament, 
 had caused Smalley to repaire with his letter to the Clerk of the 
 house, for a writte of priviledge, howe after the arreste hee was 
 content to put the matter to compromise, and offered a hundred 
 
Q UAKRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLER1E. 27 
 
 poundes, where the whole condempnation was but 104 pounde 
 two shillings, how six pound more had whusht all, how after hee 
 staied from the 11th of the moneth, wherein no order was taken, 
 till the 15th of the same, aspecting some good ende, and giving 
 the Malleries tyme to breathe sufficiently : The Speaker and 
 maister Lovelace verye desyrous the matter should be talked of 
 againe the next daye, and the rather bycause the Malleries were 
 not nowe there, but shoulde have warning against that time, and 
 proofe should be made for agreement, tho unwillingly maister 
 Hall agreed thereto. Accordingly in the Speakers chamber, 
 (where met M. Hopton no more of the committees,) there were 
 M. Popham, M. Dalton, and M. Ploden, who was no parliament 
 man. Master Andrew Mallerie and his brother was moved to 
 agreement : The speaker offeryng him fiftye pounde, but not 
 hearing on that syde, with determination to declare to the house 
 their doings the next morning, the company severed. In the 
 morning in the voyd place before the Parliament dore, M. Hop- 
 ton, M. Arnold, and M. Lovelace called M. Mallerie to them, 
 who would have no lesse than a hundred pounds for the execu- 
 tion, and the other matters, to determine as law might : Hall 
 
 would none of that, for the committees laboring in vaine, deferre 
 the cause to the judgement of the house, yet such billes were in 
 hand, as there was no convenient time to make the report. The 
 20th day M. Lovelace declared directly to the house their whole 
 doing touching the arrest, wherupon M. Hall folowed, craving- 
 consideration of the cause, alledging that if the Queenes ordinarie 
 servants, souldiors in garrison, men with protections granted from 
 the Prince, had greate freedome from arrestes, whiche no man 
 coulde denye, howe muche more shoulde the members of that 
 house have priviledge? And whereas it was urged of some, that 
 it was against lawe to deliver a man of an execution, and there- 
 fore the partie therein coulde not be delivered, but that the playn- 
 tife shoulde be punished by imprisonment. Hall declared that 
 that was no sufficient mendes, saying, that one might make a 
 letter of atturney to an abject in respect of the arresting of divers 
 knights and burgesses of the house upon statutes, which are exe- 
 cutions of themselves, to which they must obey, leave their coun- 
 
28 OUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLER1E. 
 
 trey unserved, and the worker thereof to bee imprisoned : a small 
 penance for so greate a fault, no recoverie to the partie wronged 
 by the offence, nor sufficient punishment to the carelesse preferrer 
 of his own private profite before the whole and universall benefit 
 of the Commonwealth. Maister Comptroller, sir James Crofte 
 repugned Halls speeche. M. Recorder in verie auncient presi- 
 dents, wherein he is well seen, having read much, stoode fast for 
 the liberties of the house, maister Frauncis Alford, master Sent- 
 poole, master Benbrig, Maister Nidigate soundly followed on. 
 (What moved him I know not, onless some report brought him, 
 M. Hall should use of a neere mere frende of his, whiche as I 
 have heard Hall protest most assuredly, he never thoughte of, 
 so are they better overslipped than put in writing :) M. Speaker 
 desired leave to shevve his opinion, which graunted, he advised 
 the house to have regard to their doing, and not to proceede to 
 the discharging of an execution against law, which if they should 
 doe, the Judges would rule them over, which he shuld be loth to 
 see. M. Bricket reply ed to him, saying, that they were not to be 
 ruled over by any in those cases, but others to be directed by 
 them. The Speaker would have had the matter deferred, which 
 would not be, then he moved, whether M. Hall should depart the 
 house, bicause he seemed to be a partie, the most were of opinion 
 yea, and so he went forth. The question was put whether Smalley 
 should be delivered of his execution or no, the yea was the greater, 
 yet must the house be devided, and so was it found. In the after 
 noon M. Hall went to the Speaker to the Temple, w ith whome he 
 found no body but one Hall his man : and among other talk, 
 praying his man might be delivered, he told him that he mer- 
 vailed that he dealt so extraordinarily against him, as to crave 
 leave to speake in the prejudice of the priviledge : he seemed to be 
 moved therwith, and said he had done no more than he might, 
 which he would do, and that M. Hall did not well so to take ex- 
 ceptions to him : He aunsw ered, he had not seen the like before, 
 and therfore toke it unkindlye. With this M. Bow r yer the Ser- 
 geant came in, and bad M. Speakers man goe out. M. Speaker 
 affirmed, that M. Lovelace had favorably reported the matter, 
 and not as it was, whyche if it hadde fain out for him to do, the 
 
QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 29 
 
 consequente woulde have ben otherwyse. In fine, he could take 
 no order for the deliverance of Smalley, forasmuch as the manner 
 how he should be discharged was not determined in the house ; 
 but advised Maister Hall to move the Parliament of it, and he 
 should be heard, confessing that Mallerie for his wilfulnesse, hadde 
 well deserved to lose his execution, if it had ben muche more, 
 Hall offeryng hym so largely. The nexte day Hall called upon 
 his mans busynesse : there were appointed maister Saint Poole, 
 mayster Recorder, maister Sackford (maister of the Requestes), 
 maister Bromley (Atturney of the Dutchie), and master Roberte 
 Snagge, to meete at the Rolles in the after noone, and to make 
 searche howe the judgement of the house shoulde be executed, 
 whether by writte, or by the mace wyth the Sergeant. Accord- 
 ingly maister Bromley made reporte of their travayle, alledging 
 they coulde fynde no president, where any were delivered by 
 writte uppon an execution, but uppon arrestes dyvers. It was 
 agreed, the Speaker should directe a warraunt to my Lorde keeper 
 of the great seale, Sir Nicholas Bacon, to make a writte for the 
 enlarging of the prisoner, and that maister Hall should goe to my 
 Lorde, and bee swome, that Smalley was his man. After dinner, 
 he attended at Suffolke place where my Lorde laye, of whome 
 my Lorde demaunded w hat his mannes name was, who was in exe- 
 cution, Hall aunswered, Edward Smalley : the booke being held, 
 my Lord asked hym whether he knewe Edwarde Smalley or no ? 
 which he did : whether he were his man or no ? which he was : 
 Howe long? Three or foure yeares : whether he was attached be- 
 fore the Sessions of the Parliament or since? Since was sworne? 
 My Lorde very honorably used maister Hall, and bade him fare- 
 w r el, who presently repaired to the Speakers chamber at the 
 Temple, whom he found at supper, and with him maister Sandes, 
 mayster Norton, Parliament men, maister Onsley the Clerk, and 
 and master Conisby : Hall told the Speaker he was sworn, wlier- 
 upon he directed master Onsley to make a warrant to be sent to 
 the Chancerie for the writ to discharge the arrest : Onsley required 
 master Hall to send him a note of the proceedings therein, by the 
 which he might the more particularly pen it. The notice given 
 to the chancerie for this writ, Hall sent by James Chambers his 
 
30 QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. M ALLERIE. 
 
 servant to master Disters office, who denied he had any president 
 in the like case, yet with him repaired to master Garth, also a 
 Chauncerie officer, to whome this matter was french, not beeing 
 acquainted at any tyme with the like, he sought out maister Cou- 
 per, who durst not deale in so extraordinarie a cause. To my 
 Lord keeper he goes, who answered he was not to receive mes- 
 sages from the house by any body but by the speaker, and willed 
 that he should come to him. The next morning Hall made rela- 
 tion to maister Speaker, what had bin done, who -determined to 
 go to my lord himself at the rising of the house, and so he did. 
 My Lorde desired certayne words more to be put in the warrant, 
 which the speaker said he would put too in the after noone. The 
 Speaker delivered Dister the warrant, which being broughte to 
 my L. keeper, his lordship presently directed two letters, one to 
 the Cursitaries of the Chancerie, and an other to the six Clerks. 
 The 27th of the same month (for these actions from day to day, 
 and dayly for the most part now continued) the Speaker declared 
 to the whole house, what he had done, and the Clerkes of the 
 Chaunceries answer to the L. keper, how there was no president 
 to be founde among them in that case, wherewith Hall found 
 himselfe grieved in his man’s behalfe, saying, the Atturney of the 
 Dutchie, who was a committee to searehe the Recordes before, 
 knew that well inough, and that the Speaker did determine that 
 cause, wherby the delaye was greate : the Speaker replyed, and 
 sayde, It was not well done so to charge hym : for he didde 
 nothyng but what was determined by the house, which Hall de- 
 nyed. Master Nidigate wished the liberties to be preserved. Sir 
 Francis Knolles Treasorer of her Majesties housholde, maister 
 Comptroller, and Sir Water My Idem ay agreed as muche, yet ad- 
 visyng recompense to bee hadde. Maister Popham and mayster 
 Norton could not brooke that executions should be dispensed 
 withall. Sir Henry Knevet unripped parte of maister Malleries 
 behaviour to maister Hall , moving consideration to be thought 
 on, for that Mallerie dydde touche Hall , for speeches in that 
 house, as you have hearde before, a place not meete to be tab- 
 bered on by him at a common table, with unsemely wordes to 
 misuse any member therof. Further for declaring Hall to be a 
 
OUARRE-LL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 31 
 
 traitor (an odious sporting) he had his harm : by means wherof, 
 the debt and execution grew, himself deming that such outrageous 
 behaviour was to be answered with greter force without recom- 
 pence, than by so small a scratch with so great damages, and he 
 could find no cause sufficient, to urge any consideration at all, the 
 partie living, so much lesse, he dead, and the execution discharged 
 by the judgement of the assembly. M. Digs, M. Rob. Benbrig, 
 M. Francis Alford, and M. Tho. Saint Poole stood firme of this 
 mind. M. Christopher Hatton captain of the Guard condescended 
 to the rest for the deliverie of the prisoner, willing that six or eight 
 should be chosen, wherof the house half, and Hall the rest (as M. 
 Hall and divers other did conceive it) they to award the Malleries 
 what they thought best, in lieu of the execution, discharge the 
 sheriffs of London also, not to be burdened for any thing touching 
 the same : Hall said he would first have his man at libertie, and 
 then he wold do what he thought good. It was set down, the 
 sheriffs of London should bring Smalley in the morning to the 
 house, and then should be enlarged. The next day the Speaker let 
 them understand, that the prisoner was without : wherupon M. 
 Snag certified the assembly, that he being at the examination of 
 the cause, with the committees, he found they had not made true 
 report thereof, he desired that way might be taken to sift out such 
 cautele as semed to him to be practised in the arrest by Smalley 
 and others. M. Norton wold have recompence to be made, M. 
 Alford, M. Nidigate and others were not of his opinion, M. Love- 
 lace being a committee, and a reporter of their doings to the 
 house, was answering M. Snag : which slander was after suffi- 
 ciently refeld by M. Hopton, M. Arnold, and himself whose free- 
 hold for not true delivering of their dealings, was by him touched. 
 But the Speaker would nedes first put two questions, (I know not 
 by what rule, I am sure, neither I, nor those about me in the 
 hither end of the house agreed thereto, for that we herd no motion 
 made of them.) The first was, whether Smalley should be freed 
 from the execution : the other, whether he should remain in the 
 sergeants custodie after, till it were examined whether he yielded 
 himself prisoner, and so abused the house : enlarged of the exe- 
 cution he must be, and continue with the sergeant till further 
 
32 QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 deliberation. Accordingly he was brought to the barre, but not by 
 the sheriffs, for they seemed too good to execute that office, two 
 sergeants served the turne : and as you have heard it decreed, so 
 was it done. M. Recorder ran harde on that string, that Smalley 
 should yelde himself, that he should cautelously deale, and indi- 
 rectly with that place, praying breathing in the matter, and tho 
 they had passed in the cause, as is recited, yet they should not 
 doubt upon good occasion to reverse the judgement they had past, 
 producing a president hapned in a Parliament wherin he was, 
 which fell out in a bill for the Vintners at London. It was so, 
 that they labored for a statute to passe touching wines, whiche 
 was to be read and argued in the after noon on the Saterday : 
 Mam" of the Parliament were that day at dinner feasted by them. 
 Their good chere ended, to counsell they goe : Bacchus spake in 
 the parliament (as the sequele doth declare) for his ministers the 
 Vintners : what more the law had free passage. It was but a 
 daye betweene, as master Recorder said, a Monday morning they 
 found a fault with their Saterdays after noone work, and made 
 no bones advisedly to dash that which Vinteners good chere had 
 unadvisedly caused them to determine late a saterday: this tale 
 and motion toke no effect : Committees were appointed for the 
 examination of the matter, and recompence to be had to Mallerie: 
 The whole counsell of the house, who were Maister Treasorer, 
 M. Comptroller, sir Thomas Smith, and maister Frauncis Wal- 
 singham Secretaries, sir Raulfe Sadler Chauncellor of the Dutchie 
 of Lancaster, sir Walter Mildmaye, my Lord Russell, sir Henry 
 Knevet, also with them Mayster Hatton, & Mayster Lovelace, their 
 place of meeting was the Checker Chamber, the time, the seconde 
 of the next moneth, whiche was the Wednesdaye after : The 
 Speaker, by what direction I know not, demaunded of the house, 
 whether they were content Smalley should be delivered from the 
 Sergeant upon M. Halls wordes for his foorth comming, when he 
 should be required, it was consented to. The 2d of March in the 
 morning were more Committees joyned to the first, by what meanes 
 I know not, neither yet any that I have enquired of, who were sir 
 Owen Hopton, sir Nic. Arnold, sir Wil. Winter, M. doctor W il- 
 son (master of the requests), M. Popham, M. Colby, M.Croke, and 
 
QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 33 
 
 M. Norton. In the after noon in the Excheker chamber came 
 togither, maister Tresorer, M. Mildmay, M. Hatton, Sir Henry 
 Knevet, sir Nic. Arnold, sir Owen Hopton, sir Wil. Winter, M. 
 Lovelace, M. Wilson, M. Popham, M. Colby, M. Croke, M. Nor- 
 ton, and toward the evening, M. Comptroller. Hall declared unto 
 them that he marveled to see so many Committees in the cause 
 wherin he was a partie, and they to be named without his consent, 
 he specially toke exceptions to M. Norton, who was well pleased to 
 depart. But M. Mildmay told M .Hall ther was none there would 
 be ruled by him, wherupon he kept his place : In the beginning 
 of Halls speech to the Committees for the appoyntyng of them, one 
 with some clioler saide he spake not truly. A hard word (you 
 know) among some precise gadders in forain places and sufficient, 
 as you have seen it, to make Hall far forget himself : but pro- 
 ceding, he declared the occurrents betwene M. Melchisedech Mai - 
 lerie and him, whiche he did but lightly passe over, bicause he 
 was dead, and so comming to the dealings, since he delivered 
 them, as you have heard them mentioned, and therfore I think it 
 nedlesse to repete them again. M. Andrew Mallerie followed, 
 urging his brothers hurt, his charges, his arestings, his death, de- 
 nying part of Halls allegations, protesting Smalley was arrested 
 against his will, forcing cautele and fraud at lest to be in him, if 
 not also in his master, at whom he glanced divers times, with terms 
 might well have been left, as M. Mildmay and M. Wilson did ad- 
 vise him. The Secondaries of the two Counters, M. Mosley, and 
 M. Christoffer, were examined upon their oathes apart, some of 
 the sergeants, Mosleys men and others, also Smalley, who upon 
 the interrogatories confessed, he knew Kertleton, that he was his 
 masters Scholemaster, how he was willing inough to be arrested, 
 bicause he would have his sureties discharged ; he was demaunded 
 whether M. Hall was privie to the Scholemaisters doings and his 
 or no in Guildhall, wherto he asked whether they would have hym 
 accuse his mayster, (answer of sufficient importance to bring sus- 
 pition of hym, whether hee had bene a partner in the practise or 
 no :) Maister Mildmaye and some others, verye honorably con- 
 fessed it should be extraordinary proceeding : and therefore dealt 
 no further therein beyng very late, aboute seven of the clocke ere 
 
34 QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 they rose, they deferde theyr finall resolution what they would 
 awarde Mallerie till the next morning, which they would agree 
 on in the Treasury chamber, at theyr rising. Hall was very in- 
 quisitive of some of the Committees who were most his friends and 
 contraries in the matter, and was certified more than I would he 
 had bene, and more than I will put in wryting. Though nothing 
 were done but with wise and grave consideration, the unkindnesse 
 was and may be conceived, can do no good. 1 saw him enter into 
 the chamber : the Committees upon earnest talke, from whome 
 some wordes were over harde, which might be wrested to be spoken 
 of great affection against him, he followed M. Hatton to the 
 Courte, shewyng him, that he gathered there were some striffe on 
 the behalfe of Mallerie that he forced not of the money, that he 
 would caste away five times as much, rather than his enimies (so 
 terming the Malleries ) slroulde enjoy any thing (A charitable 
 man to make a Bishop of.) that himself was cause he had put the 
 matter to comprimise, that he reposed his confidence chiefly in 
 him and Sir Henry Knevet, as well he might, to whome he was 
 most assuredly beholding, praying him in what he might, to with- 
 stand and restrayne the liberal givers away of his Coyne. In the 
 morning in the Treasury chamber by M. Treasurer, M. Comp- 
 troler, M. Mildmay, M. Hatton, M. Hopton, M. Knevet, M. 
 Winter, M. Wilson, M. Lovelace, M. Popham, M. Colbv, M. 
 Croke, and I thinke Sir Nicolas Arnold, Hall and the Malleries 
 were called in, where M. Treasurer declared to them that it was 
 agreed, Hall should pay a hundred pound to the Administrator 
 of the deceased Mallerie , betwene that and the beginning of the 
 next Terme. He and the Malleries to release all matters touch- 
 ing the sutes betweene them. Hall intemperately sware he would 
 never performe the same, alledging that some of the Committees 
 were not indifferent, neither agreed on by him, and being de- 
 maunded who they were he tooke such exceptions to : he named 
 Sir William Winter, M. Wilson, M. Popham, M. Colby, and M. 
 Croke : he willed to yeelde his reason, which was ; bicause they 
 were agaynst the matter, when the house was devided, he sayde 
 they woulde not in theyr dealings but eonfirme their owne opi- 
 nions. M. Winter found him selfe most grieved, saying, Hall 
 
OUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 35 
 
 was not to rule his conscience, tho he were a better man than he 
 was, (comparisons be hateful, but if betternesse may go by worthi- 
 nesse in all respects and Hall be his owne judge he will give no 
 place to M. Winter tho he be a Knight), M. Wilson to whom M. 
 Hall hath alwayes singularly bene beholding, and E converso the 
 other to him as far as his small habilitie and good will could 
 stretche, was much miscontented that he shoulde be named 
 among the reste, to whome Hall sayde, that he would committe 
 a matter of far greater importaunce to his handes. But foras- 
 much as in private talke betwene them, he was so much agaynst 
 the discharging of the prysoner, he woulde not have admitted him 
 a judge in the cause. Well the matter was grievouslye taken, 
 and thereof complaynte (some sayde) they woulde make to the 
 house : by the advise of Sir Henry Knevet, and M. Hatton, 
 muche agaynst Halls will, the money shall be payde. When the 
 Malleries saw that Hall was entreated, they sued also to be at 
 libertie, and that they should leave all things as they found them, 
 the Malleries pleased as I think, tho they made face otherwise. 
 Hall almost mad for anger, divers of the Committees disquieted, 
 some to the Parliament, others to theyr owne business departed. 
 The 6th of March M. Wilson with unloked for speeches of M. 
 Hally and his friends, considering the friendship had bin betwene 
 them, inveyed in the house hardly agaynst him, how he had very 
 warely charged the Committees, and that there appeared great 
 fraude and cunning in his man, whose wordes did importe, that his 
 Maister was the procurer and Counseller thereof. M. Winter, 
 M. Snagge with others shotte their shaftes into the same hole, 
 M. Treasurer as indifferent bare him self, M. Mildmay, M. Hat- 
 ton, M. Colby, and M. Alforde and others directly impugned 
 Wilson and Snagges allegations : it was ordered, that Hall, Mal- 
 lerie with his Counccll, and Smalley the next day in the afternone 
 should come to the house : as it was appointed, the parties ap- 
 peared. Hall being within, and the others attending without, 
 after a bill or two redde, M. Snagge called on the matter, Hall 
 desired that the house might be full, and that as divers invective 
 speeches greatly to his reproach had passed in the same, he might 
 cleare himself before as great an assembly, or els be condempned 
 
36 gUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 of all craving further, that the Committees of the cause might be 
 there who were best acquaynted with it. As the request was rea- 
 sonable, so to my thinking it was not refellde, for they turned to 
 other billes: shortly after came in M. Comptroller, M. Mildmay, 
 M. Sadler, and M. Hatton : M. Snagge must needes on with his 
 chace, the abuse of the place was horrible, consultation must be 
 had, resolution determined, and judgement given. The Speaker 
 stoode up, saying it was very convenient to know, whether Hall 
 and the Malleries would stande to the awarde or no ? Andrew 
 and Fraunces were called to the barre, Andrew besought the house 
 he might be at libertie, yet rather then that company should con- 
 ceyve amisse of him, he and his brother condescended. Hall 
 being also demaunded of his determination, required first to be 
 satisfied in two pointes, the first, whether it was ordered, that he 
 should chuse three or foure for the Awarde, and the house as 
 many : It was answered no, tho 1 know he was, and I thinke is of 
 an other opinion. The second, why without his knowledge after the 
 first Committees named, there were more put to them ? that the 
 Speaker and some other denied, I suppose of ignorance. For true 
 it was neverthelesse, he agreed to performe the Awarde, if they 
 would so wishe it, tho earnestly he desired the contrary : it was 
 set downe the Malleries and Huyt shoulde release and discharge 
 all bondes, controversies, and questions, depending upon the first 
 quarrell and this great action : That Hall should enter bonde in 
 two hundred markes in Recognizance for the payment of a hun- 
 dred pound the first of the Terme following. M. Sergeant Love- 
 lace, and M. Recorder were the men shoulde see this done accord- 
 ingly. M. Meredith of the Temple (a man whome I never hearde 
 speake before) foorthwith called out for the abusing of the house : 
 his eamestnesse was great, his thirst to punishe abuse much, 
 whiche if hee regarded onely without affection, sure he deserved 
 commendations, tho small thankes of M. Hall or his man, for 
 bothe (as he affirmed) had covenously, fraudulently, and cun- 
 ningly dealt with that Councel, and therefore he requested sliarpe 
 penaunce for such misdemeanour. M. Hall stoode up to have 
 answered hym : but sitting bctweene Sir James Harrington and 
 M. Leyton they piucte hym downe, advising hym to let others 
 
QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 3 7 
 
 firste speake, who were in hande to cast licour in M. Merediths 
 fire. M. Gente of the Inner temple was at hande to put dry water 
 to encrease the flame, and M. Frauncis Alforde was ready at one 
 instant with cleare running water to suppresse the inconvenience 
 was lyke to grow. The question grew who was up firste, Gente 
 alledged, he was he, and woulde not lose his advauntage, claym- 
 ing the prerogative in the same case, De lana caprina was the 
 contention, he had it. Do you remember the invective orations 
 that passed between Tullie and Catcline, thankes be to God the 
 matter was not so great. Gente is Cicero, Halles man muste be 
 an example, (woe be to him, for so it is sayde) his Maister muste 
 not passe free by his motion, yet so good he was to him, that some 
 difference shoulde be had, and lighter hande layed on hym than 
 the servaunt, whose faulte was not venyable : M . Comptroller 
 with no lesse gravitie than good conscience, and as much expe- 
 rience as yeares could give, advised no further proceeding : the 
 more to perswade, he brought foorth the dealings of considerate 
 Princes, who having what is convenient to be obtayned, be not 
 too scrupulous of needelesse consequences : he had no sooner 
 done, but with the rest of the Councell, Master Hatton and others 
 of the house, he departed to White hall to the Lordes about a 
 Commitee. At whiche tyme M. Hatton wished M. Hall to pro- 
 cure the cause to be stayed till theyr returnes : Sir Henry Knevet 
 was very full, whose good minde might not broke (as he tooke it) 
 suche harde measure he dealt, not as a changelying one day in 
 one sorte, and the nexte in an other, but as you have hearde, 
 denied punishment of the Servaunt, and much lesse of the Maister 
 in the beginnyng of his speeche. The Speaker woulde needes put 
 a question, whether Hall should avoyde the house or no, away hee 
 muste, lette hym hereafter take heede of speakyng agaynst Lon- 
 don minstrelles. Master Harrington and M. Leyton dyd him no 
 good, staying the utteryng of what he meante to speake as you 
 hearde : for after he never had convenient occasion for the pur- 
 pose. M. Winter had not bene at Anticyra f his choller and 
 melaneholie was not purged, the fayling of his voyce was shewe 
 sufficient of the affection of liys minde, many woordes to aggra- 
 vate the matter, some ordinary as in suche cases, but some other- 
 
38 QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 wise, avouchyng that Hall as the day before in the aftemone was 
 at Arundels at dyce, and therfore the house abused, in that it was 
 there reported hee was sicke, whiche as hee had of hearesay, as 
 himselfe confessed, so did he rove at randone. 
 
 Further comming to bryng in question, how Mallerie was 
 hurte by Halls man, he wished the Maister alwayes not to com- 
 maunde that acte to be done by his servaunt, w r hiche him selfe 
 durste not doe, Hums sermo , and specially of his mouth, who as 
 he is knowen to be of sufficient courage, so ought not to con- 
 demne a Gentleman of pusillanimity who he never tried, for his 
 wordes can no less importe. M. Fraunces Alforde whome M. 
 Winter had touched in parte of his tale, for saying M. Hall was 
 sicke the day before, desired the answearing of him, in whose 
 speech M. Snagge did somewhat intermeddle, but as M. Alforde 
 lackes no sufficiency in his arguments he deales with, so hath he 
 audacitie answeareable to deliver his opinion maugre interruption. 
 He charged M. Winter that his speech did declare his affected 
 minde, him selfe also, for the zeale to equity and favour to his 
 friende M. Hall, did offende in the same kinde by his owne open 
 confession : he disswaded the punishment, he advised all men to 
 suppose that one Gentleman durst do as much as an other, that 
 of all others M . Hall was not to be touched for any collation, 
 laying downe his large offers and direct usages : his man as little, 
 in seeking to discharge his sureties, a parte deservyng prayse 
 rather than misdeeming that the officers should themselves have 
 looked not to touche any belongyng to that assembly, that the 
 administrator should worthely lose his execution, for volenti non 
 jit injuria , if any w'rong was done he w r as the cause of it. M. Nor- 
 ton and many others were of contrary minde, perswading the 
 punishment of the Scholemaister, who is named heretofore: M. 
 Sentpoole, M. Digges, M. Dannet, M. John Talbot and others 
 followed M. Alforde, especially for cleeryng M. Hall and the 
 Scholemaster, and also left not that parte of M. Winters tale un- 
 answeared, w herein he made mention of the hurting of Mallerie . 
 M. Beale tooke of his conscience Hall was guilty of the fault: 
 before they came to the question, it grew very late and darke, 
 being past seven of the clocke ; many would have departed, the 
 
QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 39 
 
 dore was kepte by commandement of the Speaker. Sir Owen Hop- 
 ton. M. Bricket, and M. Dalton moved eyther an ende to be 
 made of all those causes sith the money should be payde, or els 
 to deferre the whole till the house was full, they would not be 
 hearde : wherefore they all standing with more disorder than I 
 must touch so grave a Councell with : the Speaker presents two 
 questions, the first, whether Smalley should to the Tower : thether 
 must he : the second whether Kertleton the Scholemaister must 
 drinke of the same cup or no, the judgement was doubtfull, the 
 division of the house was desired : but whether latenesse, lacke or 
 will was the cause I know not, with many discontented minds, 
 it is ruled over that the yea was the greater, I am sure the 
 Clerke coulde not see to enter judgement, divers of M. Halls 
 friends came to him, he beyng without at the dore, finding them- 
 selves greatly grieved with the events, and at theyr wits endes, 
 what direction to appoynt : wherewith (I shall not forget him) he 
 repeted two verses used by Aeneas in great extremitie, the one 
 Troy all in flame and past hope of recovery, and the other in ex- 
 treeme hunger and misery happened in his search of Italie, Una 
 salus victis nullarn sperare salutem: that is (quoth he) for me. 
 For you D urate et vosmet rebus servate secundis. He yeelded 
 them great thankes whose favors so liberally used toward him, did 
 answeare more contentement than the adverse hap misliking : he 
 was advised to make vertue of necessitie, to yeelde when as there 
 was no other remedy, he first lamented to be evill spoken of in 
 that auditory, having by his large offers shewed sufficiently the 
 small regarde he had to a hundred pound to be injured by the 
 deceased Mallerie , and that in so hie a degree, his man wounding 
 hym to be so deepely condemned, considering the evidence, the 
 debt grew of nothing disbursed, to be payde to an administrator, 
 whereby no penny to Malleries creditors should be answeared, 
 that being discharged of the execution by the house, and consent- 
 ing to pay a hundred pound, for -the quieting of all causes, his 
 two men should be committed to the Tower, that he and others 
 requesting but time to have the company full, coulde not obtaync 
 so reasonable a sute, that the dore was kepte, that the house 
 might not be devrded beyng desired, and that (as he sayde) it 
 
40 QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 might be termed opus tenebrarum , being in the aftemone, and 
 wanting time to enter the decree. These speeches passed from 
 him with great heate, saying he would dryve out one extremitie 
 with another: he seemed to be touched at the quicke, protesting 
 he was not able to beare the opprobrie his contraries woulde in 
 corners spreade abroade : he seemed to make light of ten times 
 the value of the money, tho it were not his ease to pay it, and so 
 great accompt of the recited premisses, as it was told him by 
 them that wished him well, that a Princes hart w ith a poore mans 
 habilitie was an ill medley, that continuall kicking will make the 
 backe ake, and many enemies breede disquietnes : takyng leave 
 one of another, in the Palace, he plucking his hatte about his 
 eares, mumbling the olde wives Pater noster, departed. M. Hall 
 had scarcely entred his owne lodging in litle Woodstreate, but the 
 Sergeants man w r as there to summon him, Smalley and Kertleton, 
 to morrow to be at the house, to whom answ r ere was made, they 
 were not Domi. Hall gave commaun dement to his folkes to 
 denie his being at home if any came to enquire for him : the 
 next day in the aftemone the same case was againe argued, 
 wherin M. Comptroller, Sir Henry Knevet, M. Hatton and others 
 favorably moved for M. Hall and his people: it was sette downe, 
 Smalley and the Scholemaster must to the Tower, but shortly to 
 be delivered, that the Sergeant should leave worde at Halls 
 house for the bringyng in of the parties, and if be neglected the 
 same, to proceede with further consultation accordingly. Som- 
 monance were given the day f'olowing, no man appearing from 
 Hall: they tooke it in very evill parte, among wdrome, M. Love- 
 lace thought he was much abused, declaring how long he 
 w r ayted for him to acknowledge the recognizance, and to see the 
 order of the house performed betweene the Malleries and him, 
 500 markes fine by his consent is litle inough to be set on 
 his head for this contempt. A great cautell to be cut out of 
 so small a lofe as Halls is : that he should by Parliament be 
 disabled for ever to be of that Councell : a harde Censure : but 
 motions be no lawes, if they had bene, nether would the losses 
 have bene irrecoverable, nor the wounde past helpe of surgery. 
 Agreed it was, that once againe warning should be left for 
 
OLARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. M ALLERIE. 41 
 
 these hiders of themselves, and if they woulde not be seene, the 
 house Should proceede to judgement. The day after M. Hall 
 was perswaded by many of his very good frendes to procure 
 Smallevs appearance, which in no case he would be brought to, 
 and till he was charged that he gave his worde for his forth- com- 
 ming at all times when he should be demanded, also that his im- 
 prisonment should be no longer than during the Parliament, he 
 stoode too wilful in his own determination, yet answering those 
 two poynts that he undertooke for Smalleys appearance. So the 
 7th of this moneth, at which time judgement was given against 
 him, upon the Sergeants notice, he brought him to the house, and 
 there attended the rising thereof. And for his short impryson- 
 ment, he doubted (as the sequele declared he had good cause) 
 affirming he would never have condescended to the Awarde of 
 100 pound, but for the shutting up of all questions. In the morn- 
 ing M. Recorder brought a bill into the house, wherein it should 
 have bene enacted, that Hall should pay the 100 pound, and to 
 be turned out for a wrangler, for ever being member of that as- 
 sembly. But multa cadunt inter poculum supremaque labra , for 
 at that very instant worde was brought Smalley was at the dore. 
 Yea, quoth M. Recorder, I thought of some suche matter, for I 
 gave knowledge to Mistres Hall of this geare this morning, I 
 doubted not but she would sende her man, I marvell how he could 
 hit so right, but as women be vaineglorious, so can they not abide 
 such an infamy to fall to theyr husbandes, and he doubted not 
 but that M. Hall was (as some wiser men than he are) content 
 many times to be advised by theyr wives. Smalley brought from 
 his Master a letter to the house, which being delivered to the 
 Speaker, he brake up and red to himself, after openly, and well 
 taken, saying he had thought the direction had bene to hym : 
 I cannot thinke the Speaker so unadvised, but somewhat he 
 meant thereby whiche I know not, the Copy therof followed), 
 worde for worde. 
 
42 QUAKRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIF.. 
 
 To the Parliament House, the seventh of 
 February , 1575. 
 
 jnIGHT honorable and worshipful my duty most humbly re - 
 membred toward you all , I am right sory being a member of 
 you , who have bent my poore good will towarde the service of my 
 country among you in all trouth and plainenesse y that upon opinion 
 conceved of me y otherwise than I have given cause in knozoledge of 
 my selfe y have proceeded against me, as a stranger , and not zoith 
 that favour as a member of such a body might in good equitie have 
 looked for , zdiich hath forced me sore to my great discontent ation 
 to withdraw my self till a time of better favour , assuring your 
 honors and worships all y that if my cause had bin heard and judged 
 in a full courte , in the presence of the chief e of the committees , who 
 were absent , I should have abidden your uttermost sentence even to 
 the losse of all that I had. Had I understande that every small 
 error of mine is made an heynous offence , as the exception against 
 certain of the committees , for zcant of their good wills towards me , 
 is accompted a derogation to the aucthoritie of the house y and much 
 impayring to their worships and credite y an exposition truly very 
 harde , and in trouth contrary to my meaning. And wheras by the 
 entreaty for the delivery of my man l am growen in suspition among 
 you f and by some in apparant speeches made pertaker of his fraude, 
 in procuring his owne execution : zvhat so ever is conceived of me 1 
 assure you all it is zcithout cause , as both my offer may well declare 
 before I moved the house for his priviledge y which zvas a hundred 
 pound , wherof are zoitnesses master Justice Harper and Manhoode , 
 as well is knozme to Master Sergeant Lovelace , as also my willing - 
 nesse since y to submit my selfe to your orders for the parties satis- 
 faction : of absenting my selfe I pray you consider no otherwise than 
 as of one y zoho is much greeved of your offence conceived of him, and 
 as one that can not endure the continual herd speeches brought to 
 mine eares, much sounding to my discredite , as also to see the im- 
 prisonment of my servauntes, for zchose liberties I would have bin 
 contented to have paide so deare. I might justly have looked for 
 some consideration in respect of the great injur ie off red to my name 
 
QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALL ERIE. 43 
 
 and credit , zchereof the quar el first grezc , as on the other side , for a 
 blow given without my knowledge ( God is my judge, sore against my 
 zvill). But in all, I submit my selfe to your honors wisdomes , as one 
 who is most desirous of your good opinions and favours, and wish 
 ■you good success in all honorable proceedings. Written this seventh 
 of Februarie, 1573. 
 
 Your honours and worsliippes 
 to commaund Arthur Hall. 
 
 The messenger was called in, was committed to the Tower 
 there to lie a moneth, and then to be delivered if his Master did 
 in the meane time enter bond for the payment of the 100 pound, 
 if not there to remaine til the money were payd, if the day expired 
 when it should be answered or the bond not acknowledged before: 
 also M. Hall must pay the Sergeant, M. Bowyer forty shillings 
 for his paines aboute these affayres. Here some of M. Halls 
 friends touching this imprisonment reckened without theyr hostes, 
 which he forgot not to lay to theyr charges, swearing by no beg- 
 gers, that if he had knowne so much, he would have bidden the 
 extremitie of all. I do not recite the particular arguments in these 
 two daies, the 9th and 10th of this moneth, bicause they are but 
 to the purpose you have heard in the other disputes. Hall not 
 wanting favorers, tho lie had many oppugnants, the 15th of the 
 moneth Hall sent one of his men to the Tower to speake with 
 Smalley, which was denied him, whereupon the day after he willed 
 him to repayre to the Speaker to shew the dealing of the Leuete- 
 nant. M. Bell answered, the prysoner had wrong to be close kept, 
 sith the judgement was not according. The 19th of the same 
 moneth Hall sent James Chambers his servaunt to the Leuete- 
 naunt to declare he marvayled his man should be so straightly 
 imprisoned, his answeare was ,• his usage be very good. His 
 Master could not speake with him, but if he would write, after the 
 contents were seene the letter should be delivered. The 26th lie 
 went himself to the Tower, Sir Owen Hopton not being there, 
 the prisoner could not be spoken with. The 28th M. Hall seekes 
 out M. Becorder, who advised to pay the money presently or to 
 put in sureties for the same, for I tell you the Shreves of London, 
 
44 OUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 now seeme to have interest in the matter, bicause Malleries ad- 
 ministrator had no state to sticke to if Hall had denied pay- 
 ment. But they would not I deeme, take a Gentlemans single 
 bonde, neither would M. Recorder but use them to theyr best 
 liking. The next morning comes M. Mosley to Hall and he per- 
 swades the like, but more than covenaunt will not be performed. 
 Wherfore in the morning Squyre and Hall goes to Doctor Clerke 
 in Pater noster Rowe, where he knowledges a recognizaunce of 
 200 markes to the administrator for the payment of one hundred 
 poundes the first of the Tenne following . the same day for the 
 good service the Scholemaster Kertleton had done, he was dis- 
 charged his service, whereat Cecil Hall his masters sonne, was no 
 whit discontented. M. Hall also in the afternone rides towards 
 his country home at Grantham, leaves the recognizaunce in his 
 ser vaunt James Chambers handes to be delivered to Huyts use, 
 and to receyve the Releases accordingly, loking for the delivery 
 of Smalley at the day prefixed : until the 8th of April he w T as 
 posted over from one to another, to M. Recorder, to M. Mosle} r , 
 &c. And bicause Andrew Mallerie the as:ent of all these causes 
 
 O 
 
 will not be founde, tho Hall have performed the decree, yet for 
 his pleasure his man is like to lie longer than his time by the 
 heeles : other of the Malleries were spoken withall, w ho directly 
 answered, that if the case w r ere theirs, they w ould make no releases, 
 Halls insufficiency considered, without a good surety to performe 
 the money. Speeches not so much to the discredite of him as to 
 the whole Parliament, whose consideration did inhable him for 
 the same. Chambers repay red streight to M. Comptroller, de- 
 claring to him the usage of this matter. The 9th day of April 
 the Recorder came to M. Comptroller, who wfilled him to frame 
 a letter in the names of himself, M. Treasurer, sir Walter Mild- 
 inay, and M. Walsingham, to be directed to the sayd Recorder, 
 whereunto they would set theyr hands, the contents w hereof to be, 
 That whereas M. Hall had performed the order set dovvne by the 
 house, and knowledged his recognizance, and the time expired of 
 his mans punishment, he should make certificate to the Leuete- 
 nant for his delivery. M. Comptroller also commaunded that 
 the recognizance should be taken to M. Recorder, he to kcepe it, 
 
• QUARREL!, BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 45 
 
 ‘till Huyt and the Malleries had passed the releases, to whom 
 answer w‘as made, that by his former appointment it was left with 
 .M. Richard Litler his neere neighbour and Halls Attorney. 
 Chambers attending on the Recorder, he will have the recogni- 
 zance inrolled, els nothing shall be done, which should then have 
 bene in force against Hall, and he to seke for his releases backe, 
 which he forsaw, giving his man commaundment in no case to 
 part with his bonde with one hand, but to recey ve the discharges 
 with the other : which to do, there was time inough, for that the 
 Recognizance was knowledged the 29th of March, and the moneth 
 came out for Smalleys imprisonment after the shortest reckening, 
 the 7th of Aprill, dayes sufficient to ende a greater cause. Cham- 
 bers sent with speede for his Masters pleasure touching the de- 
 livery of the recognizance to the Recorder, which he gave him 
 warrant to do, and offering the same, it would not be received, till 
 the releases from the Malleries were performed : nether yet will 
 any certificate for the enlargement of the prisoner be had, so must 
 M. Hall be unkindly handled, pay well, his man against justice 
 lie fast, beside being laught at by his enemies in theyr sleeves, the 
 judgment of that high Court of Parliament contempned. Cham- 
 bers returnes to M. Comptroller the Recorders answer, praying 
 the delivery of Smalley, that the recognizance might be in the 
 custody of the Leuetenant, till Huyt and the Malleries had ended 
 what was to be done on theyr behalfes. M. Comptroller allowed 
 of his motion, and willed him to repayre to M. Treasurer for his 
 opinion therein : he appointed that the Recorder should come to 
 him, who having knowledge accordingly, answered he had letters 
 from my L. Treasurer, as he had indeede, and therefore could 
 determine no time : further, that unless the Malleries would come 
 in and discharge the Sheryves, or else that Hall did put in suf- 
 ficient sureties for the payment of the money, the prysoner should 
 not be enlarged for any mans pleasure. A sore speech, but stet 
 pro ratione voluntas, I thinke must be alledged as the best reason 
 for such proceedings. When thus much was brought to M. Hall, 
 I heard him say, that at M. Recorders handes lie alwayes loked if 
 not for favour, at the least for equitie, and that he had well de- 
 served the same. M. Recorder can tell whether he sayeth truely 
 
4<3 QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. M ALLERIE. 
 
 or no, yefc thus much for mine owne parte, with good testimony 
 I can prove, that Hall hath not spared his great good speeches 
 like a friendly Gentleman in the commendations of M. Recorder, 
 against the invective (I thinke) slaunders of divers lavishe tongues. 
 The 23d of Aprill M. Treasurer sent the Recognizance to sir 
 Walter Mildmay, desiring him to deale with the Recorder there- 
 in, who the nexte day having worde, went to him : Andrexo Mai- 
 ler ie and Huyt his man were sent for by a pursuivant, and with 
 them the Secondary and Squyre came : M. Recorder was or would 
 be sicke, the matter debated a whyle, M. Mildmay commaunded 
 Chambers in, tolde him the day of payment was at hand, that the 
 Recognizaunce being in the Mailer ies handes woulde with diffi- 
 culty upon the payment of money be cancelled, that also charge 
 would grow thereof, and therefore perswaded Donari contanti , 
 which he excusing, M. Mildmay demaunded some to gyve theyr 
 wordes to the Malleries for the more assuraunce, whiche he coulde 
 not do without his Maisters directions, urging still performaunce 
 according to the order in Parliament. M. Mallerie coulde not be 
 contented w r ith a Recognizaunce of M. Halls as it was decreed, 
 but muste have his minde satisfied with the infringement of the 
 resolution of that place, and what soever comes of the rest, his 
 quietnesse must be provided for, for forsooth he doubted further 
 trouble : nothing done, Chambers w as willed to prove a day or 
 two for provision of the money, whiche if he could, he would 
 not have done, without commission thereto : he therefore might 
 have played Coleprophetes parte if he had pleased, (one of the 24 
 orders), and told his message before he w r ent aboute it. The re- 
 cognizaunce M. Mildmay keepes, and Chambers goes aboute to 
 see if he can finde an hundred pounds in the streates, or meete 
 with some one will give him so much. M. Mallerie hath Smalley 
 faste, and the bonde no doubte if the w'orst fall will at length be 
 payde, (tho it tarry long) spite of all M. Halls debts, for yet he is 
 a freeholder. The 8th of May, God be thanked, the money is 
 reddy somewhat before appoyntment with hard shift inough : for 
 beggers without daunger of lawe cannot have money when they 
 woulde : before sir Walter Mildmay it is by Huyt .and the Mal- 
 leries received, the releases performed, a warrant for the prisoner 
 
gUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 47 
 
 to goe play himselfe, signed by M. Mildmay, the whiche nowe the 
 Recorder firmes with William Fleet ezcood, the 9th of the same, 
 paying twelve pound to the Leuetenaunt (M. Halls cosen) with- 
 out dayes given, and other charges besides of forty-three shillings 
 and ten pence, he was turned forth. And bycause he hath song 
 in so worthy a Gayle, his Master thought him not meete to 
 chaunte in so meane a Cadge as the beste house he is like to 
 have, so that now he may, beyng Sommer, learne a new note in 
 the greene fields. Here have you the end of this great cause 
 thus far, to the excessive charge of M. Hall one way and other, 
 trouble of Frendes and minde, and slaunderous reporte among 
 such as know not the truth, and therfore to the more prejudice of 
 his simple reputation. My excuse I made to you at the begin- 
 ning, and I nothing doubt of your good accepting of my well 
 meanyng, if by accident or otherwise than I desire or hope, this 
 private certificate hap to the handes of any who be offended for 
 not beyng soothed, beare malice for being contraried, thinke un- 
 kindaesse bicause they are not commended, as other quarrel 
 bicause I wrote the truth, or for affection sake can daunce nothing 
 but theyr owne galliarde. I must thus answeare, that I have 
 wronged them for naming any person in this manner particularly, 
 and not put too my name, your selfe know-es my stile (simple God 
 wote) and therefore need I the lesse to avoyde further question 
 (if my letters should be intercepted) to set to my hande, Contra 
 verbosos nolo contendere verbis , I love no disputation but where I 
 may learne, Quoniam senex esse volo, cito si possem ero , olde I 
 must be or die young : And therefore will I yeelde over to the 
 yonger to play with the worlde, who carelesse hope with uncer- 
 taine likyng for great things, while I with regarde to my whyte 
 heares comming on with contentement am glad to enjoye mine 
 owne small porcion : for my paynes, 1 crave no thankes of any 
 straunger, neyther yet of M. Hall himselfe, whose good partes I 
 muste of force confesse I do unfaynedly love, for the rest I am 
 sory, and remayne with his enemies in one predicament for the 
 conceyving of his wantes, but differ in desire with them towardes 
 him, bycause I pray the amendment, which I doubt not of, and 
 they gape for his overthrow, whiche were pitty if my request 
 
48 QUARRELL BETWEEN A. HALL AND M. MALLERIE. 
 
 woulde come to passe : I wishe truth to be reported in all causes, 
 whiche if it had bene, I had saved this labour, for at my beying 
 at Killingworth in the beginning of Aprill laste, where what 
 greate company were assembled, what liberall cheere spent, what 
 familiar welcome used, and honorable consideration of all sortes 
 had, I referre to them that know what is incorporate to that house 
 since it came into the handes of hym that now hath it : There I 
 say I saw M. Hall by his owne brother in law M. Henry Skip- 
 with, by M. George Holte, M. James Cressy, and others who 
 love the man well, so loden with evil fame and opinion that went 
 of him for the premisses herein recited and that untruly, as of 
 myne owne knowledge I am assured, that I pitying the case, de- 
 termyned at the last with you who tenders him, not to suffer so 
 unjustly his credite, (tho small) to be so wildly tyred on. With my 
 old and accustomed w^ell thinking, and praying for you, I leave 
 you. From London the 19th of May, 1576. 
 
 Your Frende no chaungeling, 
 
 F. A, 
 
An Admonition by the Father of 
 F. A. to him being a Burgesse 
 of the Parliament for his 
 better Behaviour 
 therein. 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 . - r ' -••••- 
 
 • v i 
 
 »' 
 
 
 
 ' : ■ : ' , i 7 s: 
 
 < 
 
 . i 
 
 
 ' 
 
 ’ i . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
S ONNE, for as much as I now have obtayned for you my place 
 in the common house of Parliament, for the increase of your 
 knowledge, you growing to the worlde and I from it : I thought 
 to bestowe a few lynes upon you, tho I had long since yelded 
 my pen to be quiet, my abilitie to write being decay d, which 
 never was great, and my memory alway bad, now in a manner 
 grown to lithargie : wherein to lay before you, as well as I could, 
 such advises as to folowe I have founde profitable. But con- 
 sidering mine owne wants, I withdrew my selfe from my deter- 
 mination. Yet minding, with whom I should deale, whom I 
 should counsel, to whom I shoulde sette abroade the shewe of my 
 experience, in good houre I hope I proceeded herein, for straun- 
 gers will take thankfully, what is don by others of a good mean- 
 ing for their behouf, and muche more children, that whiche is 
 done in the same kinde by their parents. I suppose it not neede* 
 lesse lightly to runne over (as I can call to minde) by what Lawes 
 this Realme of England hath beene governed, where altered, 
 where cleane abrogated and others confirmed, which laste of all 
 is your Parliament, whereto I meane to come. Wee alow the 
 report of Brutes arriving and inhabiting this Isle the yeare of the Brute. 
 worlde after the most writers < 2855 , before the incarnation of Christ 
 1108. He builte London, calling it Troynouant , wherein he 
 stablished with the name, the Troyan Lawes : what they were 1 
 finde no recorde, but that King Jlured about the time of Christes 
 birth, 872, did gather the same Lawes together, and translated 
 them into English. But for the religion, it seemed he followed 
 the Paganisme then used through the whole worlde, as a greate 
 number of yeares after it did continue. Til the 441 yere before 
 the comming of Christ, this landc was ruled, liowe with law and 
 
52 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 Mulmutius. 
 
 Gurgunslus. 
 
 Mariia. 
 
 Lucius. 
 
 now without lawe, bycause of the civil dissention therein, at 
 which time Mulmutius Dunwallo , or Dunwallo Mulmutius chose 
 you, the sonne of Cloten Duke of Cornewayle, by strong hancle 
 bringyng the new righte called Lazoe Moluntine , which graunted 
 great privileges to Temples, to plovves, to fayres and markettes, 
 arid to the way leading to them, prohibiting men to bee troubled 
 for any cause in the same : the wars among themselves had so 
 wasted the subjects, as liberty and freedome muste nowe bring 
 people together againe, to joine in a newe corporation of friend- 
 ship. And to exclude all feare, he pardoned most freely all of- 
 fences past. These ordinaunces did holy Gildas about the yeare 
 of Christ 543 translate oute of Brytishe into Latine : and Alured 
 as afore about 872, out of Latin into the English : Gurgunstus 
 of some Gurguintus, the son of Belinus, before Christ 37 5, was 
 the first (it should seme, that imposed death and losse of limb for 
 transgression,) did also grievously punish the peace breakers. 
 Quinthelinus his sonne married a noble gentlewoman to name 
 Martia , who erected certaine decrees of governement whiche 
 were called after hir Martian Lazes , brought likewise into Eng- 
 lish by king Alured, leaving them the little Marthehelage as much 
 to say, the law of Martia . Lucius (it is said) the eight yeare of 
 his raigne, of Christ 188 (some small controversye there is of the 
 time) was christened, Elutherius being Bishop of Rome, and 
 counted the first christened King of this Hand, of the most crer 
 dible writers, tho some woulde have Arviragus, 138 yere before, 
 to have the preheminence, as well by the preachyng of Simon 
 Zelotes one of the disciples of Christ here martyred and buryed, 
 as by Joseph of Arymathy (who had Mutryn now G last enbury, 
 his place appointed of habitation), sente hyther with twelve dis- 
 ciples bv the Apostle Philip then preaching in Gaul now e Frounce, 
 too sone to come to Christ, onlesse we would felowe him better. 
 Lucius was very timely, considering the late repayre to him of 
 many nations, nerer the plat of his birth and passion, whom I 
 would recite, but I have digressed too long. Lucius sent to 
 Eleutherius, desiring him he might have the imperial and Ro- 
 maine Lawes to guide and governe his countrey, who retourned 
 him this answere : As touching the rightes of the Churche , and 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 53 
 
 service of God whiche you have received , they must remaine alwayes 
 one , untouched, the policie for civill rule may he abrogated and 
 altered as occasion shall serve : you have the booke of the olde and 
 nerve preceptes, the Bible , with the advise of your kingdome , make 
 a Lazce, thereby to governe your subjects. Here some will say was 
 your first Parliament, and the verie original thereof, whyche 1 no 
 way can agree to: and the cause hereafter I wyl shewe you. 
 
 Lucius died wythout heire : for the space of fifteene yeeres or 
 more all wente to havocke, tyll Severus the Emperour, discended Severus. 
 rightlye from King Lud, toke the gouvernement upon him about 
 the yere 208, some account lesse, the Romaines seldome quietly, 
 but for the most parte to their excessive charge and trouble held 
 the domynion, til the death of Constantine the yere 443, then Constantine. 
 neglecting the same as a country not worth the keeping ; who 
 leaving behind him Constant or Constantin for his simplicity in 
 his fathers time shorne a monk at Winchester. Vortiger, alias Vortiger. 
 Vortigern, of some the Duke of West Saxons, of other the Duke 
 or Erie of Jezvesses, who after were called West Saxons, toke him 
 out of the Cloyster, and crowned him king, whome yet hee caused 
 to bee murdered the first yeare of his raigne, so that for those 240 
 yeares few laws were made, and fewer executed. Vortiger usurp- 
 ing or being chosen king the 448 yeare, so continued but a while 
 in rest, for not onely his nobles, but the Pictes and Scottes layde 
 so sore to him, that driven to extremitie, he sent into Germany 
 for the Saxons and Englishmen to aide him in his warres, not 
 only against the foraine enimye, but his owne people, promysing 
 to them habitation, whiche hee might well spare, the land being 
 in a manner wast by the meanes of the great mortalitie by pesti- 
 lence, the Scottes and Pictes invasions, and the civill slaughter. 
 
 Their request was accepted, and llorsus and Hengist brought 
 hether certain souldiers, Panims, by whose valour Vortigers con- 
 traries were tamed : by the cotinuall repaire and flocking hether 
 of those straungers, the inhabitaunts were put to the dore. For 
 before the yere of our Lorde 498, there were three kingdomes 
 erected by the Englishmen and Saxons, the first of Kent by 
 Hengist, the second by Hella and his three sonnes, of the south Hengist . 
 Saxons, comprising Devonshire and Cornewal, Somersette and 
 
 i 
 
54 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 Arthur. 
 
 Cerdieus. 
 
 Ida . 
 
 Ella. 
 
 Selertus. 
 
 Penda. 
 
 Cadwallader. 
 
 Inas. 
 
 Southery, or rather Hampshire for Southery (according to the 
 more probable writers). The third of east Angles by Uffa, con- 
 teining Norfolk and Suffolke. These broyles being no time for 
 lawes or letter, but for her and bloud, Arthur the son. of Uther 
 Pendragon was crowned king of Britayne, tho a greate part (as 
 you heare) were taken from him. The yere 516 he fought twelve 
 greate battayles with the Saxons, in all the which he put them to 
 the worse, yet coulde he not avoyde them the Land, neyther yet 
 so subdue them, but that Cerdieus the fifth yere of his raigne 
 began the fourth kingdome of west Saxons, which consisted (as 
 I gather) of Worcester, Dorcet. Wiltishire, Stafford, and those 
 western partes adjacent. Aboute the yeare 547 the two King- 
 domes of Northumberland, that is the fifte and sixte principality 
 of the Saxons toke roote. In the one, called Brevitia, Ida first 
 had rule. In the other called Deira, Ella was governor. These 
 two kingdomes had in them the countries from Humber north- 
 ward to the Scottish sea, and continued sometime under one king 
 and sometime under two. The yere 586 the Britains were driven 
 into Wales, and presently the Saxons had the dominion of the 
 whole lande : At whyche time was the Christen religion thereby 
 extinct, and not thought on but among the Britaynes in Wales. 
 After some, Sebertus leader of the East Saxons in 614 gave first 
 beginning to that kingdome, and had in it Essex. Not long after 
 Penda the Miscreant the yeare 626 made the kingdom of Mercia , 
 who governed Huntingtonsliire, Hertfordshire, Glouc. War. 
 Lecester, Nottingham, Northumberland and others. Cadwallader 
 the last king of Britaine died at Rome the yeare of grace 656, 
 about whiche time according to some writers, but I thinke rather 
 the yeare 712, Inas, otherwise called Iue or lew, a Christian, 
 helde the rule of the West Saxons. He set downe certaine laws, 
 the preamble to the w hiche is this : Inas by the grace of God ling 
 of west Saxons , with the consultation and advise of Kenred my 
 father , Hedda and Erkenwald my Bishoppes , of all my councel- 
 lours and the olde wise men of mi/ people in the greate congregation 
 of the servauntes of God , did labour to conjirme justice and equitie 
 to be executed in my zvhole territorie. These particular edictes 
 are not to my purpose to write : but the firste, intituled Of the 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 55 
 
 manner of the living of the ministers of God, toucheth somewhat 
 the matter, which goes thus : First wee commaunde that Gods 
 ministers doe observe the order of life alreadie sette dozone: and 
 further wee zcill that to the rest of our people, the lawes and judge- 
 mentes bee in this manner : and so goeth on. This also is alleaged 
 for the confirmation of antiquity of our parliament. I finde that 
 Egbert, who was an under Kyng in West Saxons, was expelled Egbert. 
 by Brithricus the King there, and fled into Fraunce : but Bri- 
 thricus being poysoned by his wife Etlielburga, Egberte retourn- 
 ed, and obtayned the whole principality, the yere 793, others say 
 802 : and withal brought the most parte of England under his 
 obeysance, tamed the Welchmen, and toke from them Chester, 
 by meanes of which his good fortunes, he called a counsel of hys 
 Lordes at Wynchester, and by their advises and agreements was 
 crowned kyng and chiefe Lord of the land : wherupon he sent 
 forth commaundemente thorowe his country, straightlye charg- 
 ing the people thenceforth to bee called Angles and no more 
 Britains, and the kingdome Anglia and not Britaine. In the 
 yeare 800 (some accompte thirteene lesse) the Danes being also Danes. 
 Paynims firste entred this region, according to the most. The 
 Danes invaded the seconde tyme the yere 838, Athelwolph raygn- 
 ing, who of himselfe first graunted the tyth of corne, hay, and 
 cattel to the cleargy. And after toke such fast footing, as they 
 continually infested this Island with cruell wars, usurpation, and 
 conquest, til the death of Hardicanutus or Hardiknought the last 
 king of that breed. In 1034, some accompt two fewer, Alured, alias Alurcd. 
 Alphred before spoken, began to governe the West Saxons, who 
 beyng a most juste Prince, very well learned, and carefull for the 
 makyng and execution of good lawes, collected and caused to be 
 brought into the Saxon or English tong, all such as by the kings 
 his forgoers were stablished, selecting out of them such as were 
 thought most fit for the governement, confirming them, and 
 secluding the rest, reciting many of the commaundements and 
 precepts given by God to Moyses, and the message that the 
 apostles and elders sent to Antiochia , Siria , and Cilicia, by Saint 
 Paul, Barnabas, Judas, and Silas, touching the diverting of them- 
 selves, as we have it in the Acts of the Apostles, and also by the 
 
56 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 Edward. 
 
 assembly and conference of the Bishoppes and other noble and 
 wise counsellours, divers money penalties and others were ap- 
 pointed, and the same not onely declared in their sermons, but 
 also put in writing. He proceedes in the beginning of such as 
 are allowed by him, ( In hccc verba ) These decrees and ordinaunces 
 1 Alured King have gathered together , and caused to be written , a 
 greate parte whereof, our auncestours have carefully kepte, zcith 
 manye other , that I have thought worthy e in this our age to be 
 helde and maintained zcith the like observation : and other some 
 which I have thought not to be so needful I have with the conference 
 of considerate counsellors in parte abrogated ', and partly established. 
 And bycause it maye seeme a pointe of too much rashness , of a mans 
 owne lieade to adde any thing more , also that it is uncertaine what 
 credite our post eritie will give thereto , which we make greate recon- 
 ing of whatever I have founde zcorth the regarde in the actes of my 
 kynnesman and countryman Inas, of Offa the King of Mertia, or of 
 Ethelberte, the first christened of the Angles, I have brought toge- 
 ther, omitting the rest. And in the consultation of them , I Alured 
 King of West Saxons, have used the counsell of the gravest of our 
 people, to all the zchiche I have commanded that the same be exe- 
 cuted and kept . Moreover in this kings time, Gutteron, alias 
 Gowthram, alias Gythrun, alias Gurmund, of some named king 
 of Danes, by some king of Denmarke, arrived in this land, and 
 sometime having the better in armes, and sometyme put to the 
 worse, was at the last christened, and named by Alured, Athel- 
 stane, the yere 878, to whom he gave the kingdome of East Eng- 
 land with the governement of Saint Edmundes kingdome, and 
 also some write Northumberland : with whome making league, 
 and agreing in the confynes of their countries, beginnes in this 
 manner, The truce and aliaunce which Alured and Guthrun kings 
 have agreed by the advise of the wise of the English nation, and of 
 all the inhabitauntes of East England , to the which they not onely 
 for themselves, but also for their children to come are sworne. 
 Edward, the first before the conquest called Edward the Elder his 
 eldest son, beginning to raigne next after him the yeare 900, 
 made and confirmed also certain lawes, the first chapter whereof 
 is intituled, Of controversie and judgement , and goes thus : I king 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 57 
 
 Ed ward e do againe and againe commaunde all those who beare 
 office in the common zeealth , that they beare themselves asmuch as in 
 them lies, just judges to all men, as it is written in the Judiciall 
 booke, without feare, boldely and freely, to declare the common 
 lawe, and do appoint denounced daies wherin they will deale in everye 
 question and controversies This Edwarde also confirmed the league 
 with the fornamed Guthrun the Dane in this manner, adding also 
 to the former decrees, by equal consents, these bee the councels, 
 institutes and ordinaunces, whiche firste Alured and Guthrun, then 
 Edwarde and Guthrun kings at those dayes, zvere agreed on, when 
 both the Danes and English accepted the treaty of peace. Athel- Athelstane. 
 stane, King Edwardes eldest sonne, (by whose prowesse and valure 
 it is affirmed thys lande was reduced into one Monarchic againe, 
 layde so sore to the Danes, that since their first landing they 
 were never so harde driven), did also constitute certaine lawes and 
 ordinances, beginning them wyth these wordes : Athelstane King, 
 by the councel of the grave father Ulfhelme Archbishop, and other 
 my Bishops, do will and commaunde to all officers, and such as have 
 charge of Justice. I Athelstane King , give notice to all put in 
 authority in our dominions, that with the advise of Ulfhelme Arch- 
 bishop, and other Bishops and servaunts of God, have ordered and 
 set forth. In the ende of all he closeth with these wordes : These 
 be the ordinances and decrees determined of, in the honorable coun- 
 sell of Grantamlean, where was present Wolstane the Archbishop, 
 and zoith him great companie of the best and wisest sorte called to- 
 gether by Athelstane. The assembly parted, the king had en- 
 quired how the peace was kept among his people, and fynding it 
 and justice smally to hys mind dealt, injoyned more laws to his 
 first, and thus shewes the cause: I Athelstane King, will all 
 
 men to know, that having demanded why our peace is not manteyned 
 according to my commaundement and the decree at Grantamlean, 
 
 I am certefed from the experienced of my dominions, that the same 
 is happened by my overrnuche sufferance and remissnesse in punish- 
 ing. But nozv at Christmas last at Exeter, being attended on zvith 
 grave wise men whom I found most ready e to venture their facultie, 
 themselves, wives and children , to most greate hazarde; that these 
 peace breakers might utterly without retourning be expelled the lande . 
 
5S 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 Edmunde. 
 
 Edgar. 
 
 E their ed. 
 
 Edmunde. 
 
 The yeare 946, Edmund his brother beganne to rule after him, 
 in whose time the Danes held Lincolne, Nottingham, Darby, 
 Stafford, and Leicester : who also erecting and confirming lawes, 
 shewes this, by whom they were consented on, Edmund King 
 held the solempne Feaste of Faster at London , where were mette a 
 great companie of the Cleargie and laity , among whom were Oda 
 and W olstane Archbishoppes , and many other Bishoppes 7 to provide 
 for their soules health f and theirs zvhom they had the cure of: And 
 in an other place, I Edwarde , King f to all bothyong and olde in my 
 jurisdiction give knowledge , that I in the solempne assemblie of the 
 best seene of my kingdome , as well ecclesiastical as temporal , have 
 carefully enquired , and so foorth. 
 
 King Edgar his seconde sonne, the yeare 959, was likewise a 
 lawe maker, and thus entitles them : The lawes whiche I Edgar 
 King , in the frequented senate , to the glory of God , the dignity of 
 my Majestie , and the profile of the common zcealth have past. 
 
 Etheldred, or Eldred, or Egelred, the second son of Edgar, 
 the yeare 979, by the murder of Edward his elder brother, 
 named the Martire, came to the crown, in whose time the Danes 
 so entred this land, as ere they had done : the king fledde into 
 Normandy, and left his kingdome to Swanus, the Tyrant 
 Dane, after whose decease retourning, he not long after died : 
 hee also being doing with lawes, termes them thus : The conn- 
 cel of grave fathers which king Ethelred had at Woodstock in 
 Marcia for the preservation of the peace , whiche is governed by the 
 English lazoes : at the ende of suche perticulers as are agreed on, 
 he concludes in this maner : This our commaundement and de- 
 cree if any shall neglect , fyc. He shall pay to the king one hundred 
 tzeenty shillings . There was a league made also by the said King 
 with the army of Aulavus, Justinus, and Gustimundus the sonnes 
 of Stegetie the Dane, and goes thus : The agreement or part which 
 once or of late king Ethelred by the advise of his wise confederates 
 with them aforesayde did enter in. 
 
 H is sonne Edmund, surnamed Ironside, parted the Realme 
 with Canutus or Knought King of Denmark, who being slayn by 
 the treason of Edricke, Canutus enjoyed the whole principality : 
 and tho Swanus were the firste Danish King here, yet held hee 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 59 
 
 not the kingdome so absolutely as this man did. Hee made more 
 lawes than anye one before him, which are thus intituled : The 
 decrees which Canutus, king of English , Danes , and Norzcayes , at 
 Winchester at Christmas hath appointed by the advise of men of 
 knowledge , to the honour of the God of heaven , the renoume of the 
 kings Majestie , and the benefte of the common wealth. Againe in 
 an other place he useth these wordes : These are the humaine and 
 lawes politique , wherin using the counsel of the wise , I command 
 to be kept thorough Englande. Hee began to raigne alone the 
 yeare of grace 1019 * 
 
 Edwarde the Confessour after Hardikenitus the last king of the Edwarde. 
 Danish bloud, in 1043, began to raigne : he founded many hole- 
 some lawes, and was the firste erector, as it is written, of the com- 
 mon law, whych William Conqueror did after confirme, wherof 
 this I finde. After the conquest of England, the foresayde King 
 William, the fourth ye\'e of his raigne, by the persuasion, advise 
 and councel of his nobility, did summon throughout his land the 
 nobles, the governours, the grave heads, and the Learned in the 
 law r e, to heare of them their rights, customes and ordinances, 
 whereof chosing twelve of every county, who taking their othes 
 before the king, directly, truely, and so forth, to shew and declare 
 the same, they brought the lawes of Saint Edward as we have 
 them now, and the king established them in that manner. 
 
 The Conqueror hymselfe began to rule this Uande 1066, William 
 (some reckon a yeare more) who also adding certaine ordinaunces Con ^ ueror - 
 in the entraunce, hath these wordes : Here beginneth what William 
 king of the Englishe nation , after the conquest , with his nobility 
 hath appointed to be pcrfourmed . I reade that Henry the first Henry 1 . 
 his sonne, who governed after William Rufus his brother, did at 
 the beginning of his raign lighten the great exactions imposed by 
 his father and brother, reduced and amended Saint Edwards 
 lawes, whiche as it should seeme, were eyther forgotten, or would 
 not be remembred, for all the fathers confirmation (or rather shew 
 therof ) reformed measures, and apoynted directions to be observed, 
 
 Aboute the thyrtith yeare of hys raigne hee helde a counsel at 
 London, wherin it was thought good, he shold have the Clcargy 
 within his censure. Maude the Empress His daughter, first mar- 
 
60 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 Stephen. 
 
 Ilenry 2. 
 
 ryed to Henrie the Fourth Emperor of Almayne, and afterwards 
 to Geffrey Plantagenet Erie of Anjou, (the 31st of his raigne) had 
 by hir husbande shortly after a son named Henrie, upon the 
 knowledge wherof he called his nobles together, and decreed, 
 that his daughter and the heirs of hir body shoulde succeede him 
 in the Kyngdome. Grafton in the thirteenth yere of this King, 
 in his Cronicle saith thus : And in this time began the Parliament 
 in Englande firste to be instituted and ordeyned for reformation 
 and governement of this Realme. The manner whereof (as I have 
 found it set out in an olde pamfiet ) I intende at large to set foorth 
 in the raigne of King Edwarde the thirde, when and where Parlia- 
 ments were yearely and orderly kepte . The whiche I sought to 
 finde, but promise was not kepte. Turning his booke, I founde 
 in his preface to the Reader these wordes : And where I have in 
 the \Sth yere of King Henry the firste promised to place the maner 
 and order that first zvas taken for the holding of the Parliamente , 
 in the time of King Edwarde the thirde , I have sith that tymefor 
 sundry good causes thought meete to omit the same, and therefore 
 admonish the Reader not to looke for it. Hereof judge you, and 
 if you wyll have hys reason, he is not far to seke. 
 
 Stephen in a manner no sole sybbe to the Crowne, the righte 
 heyres being alive, was by the nobilitye admitted King. In hys 
 time the Empress by the aide of hyr Basterd brother Robert Earle 
 of Gloucester, the civill warres grew great, wherin the King being 
 taken, and who now but the Empress, as it were confirmed ac- 
 cording to hir just title : she was moved for the restitution of 
 Saint Edwards Lawes, but shee was deafe on that side. The last 
 yeare of thys Kings time, he and Henrie the Empress sonne, 
 grew to communication and agreement. The King coinmaunded 
 his Lordes to assemble at Winchester, where Duke Henrie was 
 honorably receyved, and there it was agreed he shoulde adopte 
 the Duke hys sonne, and confirme to him the Crowne of Eng- 
 lande after his deceasse. 
 
 Henry the second, hys follower in the governement, of another 
 clayme, helde a councel at the beginning of his raign at Walling- 
 forde, where the Barons were sworne to the King. The eyght 
 yere of his raigne, he caused all the subjects to swcare fealty to 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 61 
 
 his sonne Henrye, touching the inherytaunce. In the ninth yeare 
 Fabian sayeth the kyng called a Parliament at Northampton, 
 and so termed it, (as also in some other places he doeth Councels 
 and calling togethers of the Lordes by the prynce) wherin himselfe 
 vouches, nothing was done, but a pretence to reforme and some- 
 what gelde the preveleges of the Cleargy. The same time a coun- 
 cel was helde at Claringdone, and before the King, the Bishoppes 
 and nobilitie were sworne, to keep and confirme many decrees and 
 ordinaunces. John Stow writes in his Summary of the Cronicles of 
 Englande, that the 34, of his ragne, at Geldington about ten miles 
 from Nortliamton, he shoulde holde a Parliament touching a 
 voyage to be taken to the holy lande. But if you consider the 
 haste the king made thether, the state at that present he stode in, 
 the place, the shortnesse of the time, and the matters there com- 
 muned of, you shall finde that in terming this or such like con- 
 sultation Parliaments, Maister Fabian, Stow, Harding, and other 
 Englishe writers do rather use the worde (as in deede it is proper, 
 where any conference is) than that it carries with it, where it 
 comes, the same to be understood to be the greate Courte of Par- 
 liament, in such general forme and universal manner, as nowe and 
 since the time of Kyng Henrie the thyrde, we have and do use it, 
 as you knowe the worde is Frenche, and this much importeth, 
 
 A debating together , A conference , A consultation, A conferring , 
 
 An enterspeech, A communication , A discoursing one with another , 
 which may bee as well with Ten for the worde, as with Ten score. 
 
 Kyng Richard the first, in the eighte yeare of hys raigne, re- Richard l. 
 tourning from the holy lande, his brother John, in his absence 
 usurping the Crowne, summoned a counsell of hys Lords at Win- 
 chester, where by auctority of the said councel hee deprived bis 
 brother of all dignity e, preferments, and landes, whyche before 
 hee hadde bestowed on hym. 
 
 After Richards deceasse he possessed the Crowne, and in the John. 
 firste and thirde yeare by the holding of two counsels (as some 
 affirme) hee had certainc exactions agreed uppon, for the main- 
 tenaunce of his wars : others write, that of himselfe hee levied 
 the sayd summes. The eleventh yeare all men toke the othes of 
 Allegeance to hym from twelve yeres upward. The fourteenth 
 
 K 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 yere (here is some difference for the yere) the Lordes and Barons 
 required the use of Saint Edwardes Lawes, and the revoking of 
 other wicked ordinaunces, the which he, not harkening to, the 
 civil w'arre begonne; yet at Barhamdowne the king and nobilitie 
 meeting, they confirmed so much, as they departed quietly. The 
 sixteenth of his raigne, the king being slowe to performe that 
 which he was brought to, perforce, the nobility toke them againe 
 to armes, and so hardlye sette him, as in a meadowe betweene 
 Windsor and Staynes in a manner Noletis, volens , hee graunted 
 their liberties : and the Charter for their confirmation thereof, 
 is dated at Rune meade, between the places before named, to the 
 which all the Realme was sworne. In the same yere the Lords 
 perceiving the Kings disposition, to sliifte from that hee hadde 
 agreed on, sente into Fraunce for Lezves the sonne of Philip the 
 Frenche King, who arriving here, was receyved by the Barons 
 and Londoners honorably, who sware fealty to him, and did him 
 homage, and then all with one crye they seeke oute the king, who 
 being at Winchester, was driven to flye, whyche towne yeelded 
 and was sworn to Lewes , whether also repayred in a maner all 
 the nobility. For all this sturre, King John procured the Pope 
 by meanes of Pandolphe the legate, to dispence with his othe, to 
 reverse the Charter and liberties graunted, and also excommuni- 
 cate the Barons and Frenchmen. 
 
 Henry 3. Henrie his sonne, of the age of nine yeres, yong enough for 
 
 to take the charge of a Kingdome, and specially during such gar- 
 boyles, yet by the good governmente of Marshal Erie of Pen- 
 broke, many of the Lordes drewe to him, and very shortly after 
 Lewes was driven to leave the land, and being released of his 
 excommunication, the peace was agreed on the ninth yeare of his 
 raigne, of his age the sevententh, or thereabout. At the motion 
 of the Archbishoppe of Caunterbury and other the Lordes, the 
 king graunted and confirmed the greate Charter: whereupon (as 
 I can gather by some records) the w r arde and mariage of our chil- 
 dren was graunted to the king and his successours: the twelfth 
 yeare the king refused to perfourme the liberties and Charter 
 graunted as before, for that the ratification past in his mi n or i tie, 
 and that now being of full yeres to beare the sway himselfe, hee 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 63 
 
 woulde bee better advised. The tvventith of his raigne is found 
 the first Parliament of name and record, and yet not to be so 
 thought a Parliament as now we use ours. It is entituled, The 
 statuts made at Merton. And further he says, It was provided in 
 the Courte of our soveraigne Lord the king holden at Merton the 
 morrowe after the twentith day of Saint Vincent, the twentith yere 
 of the raigne of King Henrie the son of King John, before William 
 Archbishoppe of Gaunt erburie and other his Bishoppes and suffra- 
 ganes, and before the greater parte of the Earles and Barons of 
 England there assembled , fyc. without addition of the thyrde state 
 of this land. Also you have a statute made the yeare after, 
 entituledybr the leape yeare, beginning, The King unto the justices 
 of his Bench greeting. The 42d yere, or after some the 41st, the 
 barons unwillingly bearing the kings driving off for the restitution 
 of certaine auncient lawes, there was a Parliament at Oxforde, 
 which was called the madde Parliament , yet not so mad, but the 
 king, his brother king of Romains, and Edward his sonne, must 
 and did agree thereto, tho much against their willes, bycause 
 many matters were ordeyned greatly and too much against the 
 kings prerogative, for the sure establishing and execution whereof, 
 there were twelve peeres appointed, who had the charge and auc- 
 tority to see the ordinaunces made, maintayned. Whether for the 
 small worthynesse of the lawes, or the disorder in making, or the 
 shortnesse of the continuaunce I knowe not, but I finde not any 
 of those statutes with the rest which are rekened to be King 
 Henrie the thirds. These twelve noble men were no soner in 
 commission, but they began roughly, presently exiling foure of 
 the Kings brethren by the mother. The 43d and 44th yere of his 
 raigne there were certaine assemblies, sometime of the nobility 
 without the King, and of the king without the Lordes, without 
 any mention of our thirde interest, and all called Parliaments. 
 Thys yere in a Folkmote at London were all above tw r elve yeres 
 sworne to the king. In the 45th yeare he had obtained from 
 Rome a dispensation for his othe, and all others of his, which he 
 and they had taken for the maintenance of Oxforde folly ; The 
 peeres during this pastime, unwitting and unwilling the kyng, 
 discharged Hugh le Spencer chiefe Justice, and put an other in 
 
64 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 his place, expelled officers and Sherifes admitted by the king, and 
 appointed other to supplie their romes. Further, the king was 
 grownd to harde termes, which was, hee shoulde not passe over 
 the Seas having large Territories in other countries, without 
 licence obtained, as in this yeare appeareth. The next yeare as 
 before in the 44th, were all men in London above twelve yeares 
 of age sworne to the king and his successours. The 47th of his 
 raigne, the barons armed themselves, the Kyng and Queene fled 
 from the tower to Windsor, and by the way were too unkindly 
 used by the Londoners. The King and Lords fell to agreement 
 (as Fabian writes) and were contented to be ordered by the doome 
 of the French king who they agreed to be judge betweene them : 
 the king, giving sentence, the Barons refuse, and fall to war. The 
 yeare following, the King, his brother and sonne were taken in the 
 Battayle at Lezces , by meanes whereof the king grauntes anew 
 the confirmation of the former statutes : and till matters accord- 
 ingly be perfourmed, Prince Edwarde, and the king of Romaines 
 sonne, remaynes pledges wyth the Barons. The 49th yeare 
 Prince Edwarde being delivered, a Parliament or rather a counsell 
 (bycause I finde no statute thereof) was helde at Winchester, and 
 all matters and decrees passed at Oxforde were utterly undone, 
 revoked, and called in, and all writings and assuraunces sealed for 
 the same, were cancelled and defaced. You have certaine sta- 
 tutes concluded, I thinke, at Winchester, in your firste volume, 
 made in the yeare 51 of thys king, in all the which you finde no 
 other wordes for the moste parte : but the king willeth or he com - 
 maundeth : Unlesse hee firste alleadge an inconvenience happen- 
 ed, which to redresse, he uses, It is therefore provided and or- 
 dained. The yeare after there were certain statutes passed at 
 Marlebridge or Marleborowe, where you have this beginning : 
 The yeare of grace 1267, the 2,5th yeare of the raigne of king Henry, 
 sonne of king John , in the Vtas of Saint Martine, for the better 
 estate of the Realme of England , and for the more speedie admini- 
 stration of justice, as belongeth to the office of a king , the more dis- 
 crete men of the Realme being called together , as well of the higher 
 as of the lower estate , it was , fyc. In all these statutes no word of 
 enacted or ordained by the aucthority of this present Parliament, 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 65 
 
 4fc. is founde, but it is provided and agreed, whiche shall be and 
 shall not bee, as the matter which is stablished doth importe. 
 
 In the ende of these lawes and decrees, and conclusion of agree- 
 ment beetweene the king and his subjectes, the Bishoppes doe 
 pronounce all men accurssed who shall go about to break e, in- 
 fringe or alter the liberties and free customes conteyned in the 
 Charters of common liberties and of the Forest, &c. The preamble 
 to the which Charters is in this manner : Henrie by the grace of 
 God , fyc. To all Archbishoppes , fyc. our faithfull subjects greting : 
 know yee that zoee unto the honor of Almighty God , and for the 
 salvation of the soules of our progenitors and successours kings of 
 Englande , to the advauncement of holy Churchy and amendement of 
 our Realme, of our mere and free will have given and graunted, fyc. 
 
 Edwarde his sonne confirmed these Charters graunted by hys Edward 
 father, and the thyrde yeare of his raigne helde a Parliament, 
 wherein were made divers statutes, and thus it saith : These be the 
 actes of King Edward sonne to King Henry , at the first Parlia- 
 ment general after his coronation, on the Monday of Easter Utas, 
 the thirde yeare of his raigne , by his councel , and by the assente of 
 the Archbishoppes, Bishops, Abbots, Pryors, Erles, Barons, and 
 all the comunaltie of the Realme being thether sommoned, fyc. And 
 for divers considerations named, the booke sayth, The king hath 
 ordeyned and established these Actes underwritten, whiche he cn - 
 teiideth to be necessary and profitable unto the whole Realme . 
 
 And in the first Chapter, First the king zoilleth and commaundeth , 
 
 Sfc. The yeare following, other statutes were set downe, by this 
 Authority : In the presence of certaine r ever ende fathers, Bishoppes 
 of England, and others of the Kinges councell, the constitutions 
 under zvritten were recited, and after hearde and published before 
 the King and his councell, for asmuch as all the kinges councell, as 
 well Justices as others, did agree that they shoulde bee put in writ - 
 ing for a perpetuall memory, and that they shoulde bee stedfast/ye 
 observed. The next yeare hee made certaine lawes at Gloucester, 
 and hath thus , For the great mischief es, fyc. Our soveraign lord 
 the king for the amendment of the land, fyc. hath provided and 
 established these Actes underzcrilten, willing and commanding that 
 
 J O O 
 
 from henceforth they bee firmely observed within this Realme. 
 
66 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 In the ende of the Chapters of the same Parliament there is an 
 explanation of it, termed, Expositions upon the Statute of Glou- 
 cester, which begin : Afterzvarde hy the king our soveraigne Lorde 
 and his Justices, certaine expositions were made upon some of the 
 Articles above mentioned, Sc. The seventh yeare other statutes 
 were made : the notice of the first was given to the Justices of the 
 Kings Bench, with thys preamble : Edwarde, by the grace of God 
 King of Englande, Lorde of Ireland, Duke of Aquitaine, to his 
 justices of his benche greeting. Whereas, Sc. as it folowes in the act. 
 And now in our Parliament at Westminster, after the said treatise 
 the prelats , erles, barons, and the communaltie of our realme there 
 assembled, Sc. we commaunde you that you cause these things to be 
 redde before you in the said bench, and there to be enrolled. The 
 9th, the 11th, 13th, in the whiche he had three Parliaments as it 
 seemeth, the first wherin the statute of Acton Burnel was made, 
 the second, he helde the parliament at Westminster, wherin very 
 many statutes passed, the thirde was at Westminster, the 18th, the 
 20th, 21st, 24th, 23th, 27th, 28th, 29th, 30th, 33d, and the 34th 
 yere, there were statutes made as appears by the records, in all 
 which these wordes passe of Aucthoritie for enacting and confir- 
 mation : The King hath commaunded . Our soveraigne lorde the king 
 hath ordained. The king chargeth all his justices, uppon their fait lies 
 and othes that they owe him, that they shall see this and that exe- 
 cuted according to the statutes: It is provided: our soveraigne 
 Lorde the King to abate the pozcer of fellons, hath established a 
 payne in this case, and for asmuch as the king zoill not that his 
 people should be sodainelye impoverished by reason of this penaltie, 
 that seemeth verie harde to many, The king graunteth. The king 
 and his councell at his Parliament holden at Acton Burnel hath 
 ordeined these establishments. Our soveraigne Lorde the king at his 
 Parliament holden at Westminster in the eightenth of his raign, of 
 his special grace and for the singular affection that he beareth unto 
 his prelates, Erles, and Barons, and other of his Realme, hath 
 graunted. Wherefore our soveraigne Lorde the king considering 
 fraude, fyc. hath streightly commaunded : our soveraigne Lorde the 
 King in his full P arliamente holden the day after the feast e of the 
 Purification , in the twentith yere of his raigne, by a general councel 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 67 
 
 hath ordained , and from henceforth hath commaunded to be 
 straightly observed. Our soveraigne Lorde the king at his Parlia- 
 ment after Easter the Q\st year e of his raigne, at the instance of 
 the nobles of his Realme hathe graunted and commaunded , too bee 
 from henceforth frmely observed. We have also ordeined by the ad- 
 vise of our councell at the Parliament of our soveraigne Lorde the 
 King holden at Lincolne in the Utas of Saint Hillarie , the twentith 
 yere of his raigne , of his councel it teas agreed , and also commaunded 
 by the king himself e, it is provided by a common accorde : We will 
 and graunt that this statute shall take effect : it as agreed that such 
 a writ of Indicavi, shall not be graunted. In the 34th yere of his 
 governement, and last statutes the first Chapter, he graunteth in 
 this manner: No Tallage or aide shall be taken or levied by us or 
 our heyrs in our Realme , without the good will and assent of Arch- 
 bishoppes, Bishoppes, Earles , Barons, Knight es , Burgesses, and 
 other freemen of the lande. The fourth Chapter, he sayth thus : 
 
 We will and gr aunt e for us and our heires, that all Clarks and lay- 
 men of our lande shall have their Lazves, liberties, fyc. as when they 
 had them best, and if any statutes have bin made by us and our 
 auncesters, or any customes brought in contrary to them, or any 
 manner Articles conteined in this present Charter, we zcill and 
 graunte that such manner of statutes and customes shall be voide 
 and frustrate for evermore. In the sixth Chapter, where there is 
 a curse set for the not performaunce of the premisses, he hath, In 
 witnesse of which thing we have set our Seale to this present Charter, 
 togither with the Archbishops, Bishoppes, fyc. which voluntarily 
 have sworne, that as much as in them is, they shall observe the 
 tenour of this present Charter in all causes, fyc. 
 
 Edward his sonne (as I finde in your printed booke) made Edward 
 many statutes in his first yeare, his ninth, his tenth, his twelfth, 
 his fifteenth, his seventeenth, his eighteenth, in all the whiche he 
 uses the like manner of wordes, as for the most parte be recyted 
 before. As Our soveraigne Lord the king hath graunted: Our 
 soveraigne Lord the king willeth and commandeth : The king de- 
 creet h, this is added of new. By the kings councel. Also it is de- 
 sired that our soveraigne Lorde the King, and the greale men of the 
 Realme do not charge, fyc. Our soveraigne Lorde the king intend- 
 
68 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 Edward 3 . 
 
 ing to avoyde and oschew such evil oppressions , <^c. By the assent 
 of his prelates , Barons , and other greate estates , hath ordained , fyc. 
 It is provided by our soveraigne Lord the King and his Justices , 
 and also graunted unto the Citizens of London , fyc. And also 
 Forasmuch as some points of the statutes heretofore made hadde 
 neede of exposition , our soveraigne Lord the King, Edward sonne to 
 king Edwarde, desiring that right bee done to his people , at his par - 
 liamente holden at Yorke the thirde zeeeke after thefeaste of Saint 
 Michael, the twelfth y ere of hys raigne, by the assente of the pre- 
 lates, Earles, Barons, and communaltye of his Realme there as- 
 sembled, fyc. We will also, that this our ordinaunce shall take 
 effect , fyc. But specially be it commaunded on the behalfe of our 
 soveraigne Lorde the king , by the consent of the whole Realme . 
 
 The measure of our soveraigne Lorde the king was made, &c. 
 in the twentith yeare of his raigne, by some of his nobility and 
 Isabel his queene (badde Lords and worse wife), as their doings in 
 other cases after declared. He was imprisoned, and thereupon a 
 Parliament was called, where Edwarde the Kyngs sonne, not yet 
 of the age of fourteene yeares, was elected by the common de- 
 cree, king in his fathers rome, and in the name of the whole par- 
 liament, as it remaynes in some Authors : divers of the cleargye 
 and of the nobilitie were sente to the quondam King, to shewe 
 him their determination : who seing no remedie, and smaller hope 
 of recovery of his former estate, renounced wyllingly (when he 
 could do no other) his interest and principality. If you will have 
 this a lawfull and full parliament, I must pray God to kepe us 
 from many of them, by cause of the hardnesse of the example : 
 for the king was badlye murdred, within lesse than a yeare after, 
 and yet you see what words of Aucthority it hath. 
 
 Edwarde the thirde helde the crowne fifty yeares and odde 
 moneths, and had in his time 26 Parliaments at the leaste, in some 
 of the whiche there was not above one statute made, and that of 
 no greate importance. In the first Parliament the bookes goe 
 upon certaine petitions and requestes made to him, That is : the 
 king in the saide Parliament upon such Articles above rehearsed, 
 by the common councel of the prelates, Erles , Barons, and other 
 greate men, and by the communaltie of the Realme there being by 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 69 
 
 his commaundemente , hatlie provided , ordained , fyc. the same Ses- 
 sions at the request of the communalty of his Realme, by their 
 petition made before him and his councel in the Parliament, by 
 assent of the Prelates, Erles, Barons, and other great men assem- 
 bled at the sayde Parliament, hath graunted for him and his 
 heires, &c. and so proceedes to graunt and confirme alwaies the 
 liberties of the greate Charter and the Charter of the Forest, 
 wherof for the most part there is mention first made in everye 
 Parliamente, in all the whiche (fewe excepted) hee uses these 
 wordes or such like, and specially till his 14th yere, in which he 
 had a liberal extraordinary ayde or subsidy graunted hym, Bp 
 the assent of his Prelates , Erles , and Barons . and other noble men 
 of his Realme: and at the request e of the commons , after many 
 times he puts in, The consente of the Commons, whole commons, 
 full parliament , and that chiefelye when as he obtained of them 
 subsidie, taske, fifteenth, disme, or custome, as if you turne the 
 recordes you shall fynd : and yet ofte he names them not at all 
 but hath thus : Councel and treat ie thereupon had zvith the Erles , 
 Barons , and our wise men of our saide Realme, JVe consider - 
 ing, fyc. have had thereupon deliberation and treatie zoith the Pre- 
 lates, and the nobles and zvise men assisting us, of zchose mutual 
 councel it is ordeyned, fyc. ofte putting in With the assent of the 
 commons, oftner, at their request and petition, whiche he uses not 
 when they graunted him subsidie, taxe, ayde, custome, fifteenth, 
 tenthes or lone. But then the statutes carried these words, With 
 the consent of the commons, whiche they well deserved. And also 
 deedes of congratulation as well as allowance in termes, for like 
 moste liberal, dutifull, and considerate Subjects (I will thinke) 
 willingly did graunte their large contrybutions, no larger than 
 often, nor ofter than needeful considering the divers wars of their 
 prince, they did ninteene times bestowe towardes his charges their 
 mony helpe (if I did put in more, as I suppose I shoulde not lye, 
 so should I not incurre any offence) and that divers of them to 
 continue two yeres, three yeres, and sixe yeres. A newe kynde 
 of willing duty, if you loke how alwayes before, like matters in a 
 maner were perforce extorted from them. In lieu whereof, as a 
 gratious prince thankefully accepting their doings, as good cause 
 
70 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 Richard 2. 
 
 Henry 4 . 
 
 he had, gave them at the least nine general pardons, with some 
 exceptions, yet not many. And whereas for the most part the 
 Wolles of this lande before other commodities were most exacted 
 of, in his 36th yeare it was enacted, that no subsidie nor other 
 charge shoulde be sette nor graunted uppon the Wooles by the 
 Marchants, nor by any other from thenceforth, without the assent 
 of the Parliament : rare presidents to finde before the conquest 
 in William Conquerors time, or since in a manner at all till this 
 kings dayes. 
 
 Richard the second, his successor, helde even on as his 
 Graundfather began, had almoste, every yeare a Parliament, ac- 
 cording to the statuts, that there shoulde bee one yearely at the 
 leaste. In the beginnings of all the whiche, almost the great 
 Charter, and that of the Forest, with all Liberties to holy churches, 
 fraunchises, &c. were granted, stablished, and confirmed, and the 
 authority of passing the actes, is as you have in his predecessors 
 time Edward the thyrde, sometime with one manner of words, 
 and sometime another. He had very many, free and bountiful 
 aydes of his subjects by mony, in number for hys two and twenty 
 yeares time, no whit wanting with his Graundfathers, and likewise 
 by diverse pardons he declared his good accepting of them. 
 
 Kyng Henry the fourth, first Erie of Darby, then Duke of 
 Herforde by his father John of Gaunt Duke of Lancaster, the 
 fourth begotten son of king Edward the second, also invested 
 with the title of that Dukedome, no more against king Richards 
 wyll, than against lawe, ryght and justice, did clayme the Crowne, 
 and at London called a Parliament in king Richards name, as 
 much without his direction, as without just authority, and howe 
 far wythout the full partes of an Englishe Parliament, which wee 
 brag of and justly may, I referre mee to the judgement of deeper 
 heades than mine owne. In this Parliament forsooth is thirty-one 
 Articles at the leaste layde to our Kyng Richarde, a shrewd and 
 an unaccustomed president. Well, it was thought by the most 
 parte that he was worthy to be deposed, and provision according 
 was provided. But King Richardes friendes going to bed with- 
 out candel, when none was to be had, perswaded their maister to 
 yeeld (contented) the Crowne from his heade, whiche otherwise 
 
ADMONITION BY TIIE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 71 
 
 woulde have byn snatched off perforce, and brought the skyn 
 with it. He doth resign, he craves life without raigne, it is libe- 
 berally granted, but more liberally broken with hasty and shame- 
 ful slaughter; as who searches shall find, to whom I rather 
 commit the reading, than I to call to remembrance such unduti- 
 ful hard dealing, and specially when the Parliament hath any 
 interest in the same, or should be noted with error. This Henrie 
 the fourth raigned thirteene yeares and somewhat more, in whose 
 time there was almost every yeare a Parliament, in all the which 
 for the most parte, first the Charters and liberties be confirmed to 
 all men, and the Actes be thus aucthorized, Henrie by the Grace 
 of God, fyc. of the assent of the Prelates, Dukes, Pries, Barons, 
 and at the instant and special request of the commons of the same 
 Realme, assembled at his Parliament holden at Westminster, fyc. 
 
 All establishments, confirmations, and makings of statuts in his 
 time, you shall finde still at the request, ernest instance and prayer 
 of the commons, yet was he king, as you have hearde, and in the 
 first yeare of hys raigne he had such a heavy taxe graunted him, 
 as it was conditioned it should not be recorded for a president : 
 divers others he reaped the benefit of, and retourned also sundry 
 pardons to the freeing of many of his subjectes. 
 
 His sonne Henrie, was Kyng nine yeares and somewhat more, Henry 5. 
 and yerely (as it seemes) lielde a Parliamente, but hys sixt yeare, 
 in all which wherin the commons were named, he sayth as before, 
 for himselfe and the Lords he hath at the special instance and re- 
 quest of the Commons in the same Parliament, tyc. Hath don to be 
 ordained, $'C. The liberties of holy Churches, the Charters and 
 privileges are enacted and agreed soundely to abide in force. I 
 can not perceive for all his great conquest and wanes in Fraunce, 
 that he troubled his Subjectes in a manner at all to speake of, 
 wyth Taxe or Subsidie. That small ayde hce had, rose (as I can 
 gather) of some Tenths, and Fifteenthes, that were graunted him. 
 
 And yet did he for custome, curtesie, or congratulation sake, also 
 imparte his pardons. 
 
 He left his sonne Henrie in his place, being but eighte Henry 6 . 
 inonethes olde, during whose raigne, the Parliamentes were very 
 thicke helde, as in the former times. As thys Prince was very 
 
Edward 4. 
 
 
 
 
 72 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A* 
 
 yong at the death of his father, so was he when he came to age, 
 more given to quietnesse and religion, than to worldly affayres or 
 weapons : And therefore it may be gathered, that the nobility and 
 commons stoode not in doubt of the infringing by him of great 
 Charters, and liberties. Wherefore they labored not every Par- 
 liament, the confirmation of them ; as in his Predecessors time 
 they did : for in his Parliaments wee finde no suche mention 
 made of them, as usually is had before his governement : for 
 making of Lawes, most commonly I see, Our soveraigne Lord 
 king Henry the sixth , at his Parliamente, fyc. By the advise and 
 assente of the Lordes spirituall and temporal , and at the speciall 
 request of the commons of the Realme , being in the same Parlia- 
 ment, have done to be made, fyc. There is also, Our soveraigne 
 Lord King Henrie, fyc. For the zceale of him and of his Realme, 
 by the advise and assent of the lords spiritual and temporal and the 
 commons of the same Parliament assembled, hath made, ordayned, 
 fyc. This last manner of mencioning the commons, is in the 
 middle of the kings raign, which might proceede of some occa- 
 sions, which yourselfe maye finde out, if you tourne over the cro- 
 nicles ; (I take it needlesse to be written). In the thirtie-third 
 yeare of his raigne, there was something enacted in a Parliament 
 touching the Lord Richard Duke of Yorke, and also in another, 
 in his thirtie-third yere, concerning the same Prince, which I 
 cannot be perswaded that King Henrie de mero motu consented 
 to, I do not understande that he burdened his subjects in a man- 
 ner at all with exactions, for all his continuall and greate warres 
 in Fraunce, but rather contented himselfe with the losse, and so 
 far, as in less than fortie yeres he forewent the Crowne of Fraunce 
 abroade, and lost. his kingdome of Englande at home: And tho 
 by hys friendes he recovered the one againe, yet woulde it not be 
 kept, but hee that received it firste, efte obtayned it, so that Kyng 
 Henrie w T as deprived the second time not only of hys regalty, but 
 presently of his life. 
 
 Edward Earle of March, righte heire of the house of Yorke, 
 was the man that Kinged it in King Henries rome, and so con- 
 tinued it twenty-two yeares, and somewhat more, during which 
 governement he hadde at leaste tenne Parliaments, in all the 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 73 
 
 which hee names his auctority, and the nobility es advise and con- 
 sent, and the instance and request of the commons, but only in 
 the Parliamente the thirde yeare of his raigne, wherin he says, 
 
 At the Parliament summoned at Westminster , fyc. the thirde yeare 
 of king Edwarde the fourth after the conquest , divers statutes, fyc. 
 
 By the advise and assent of his Lordes , spiritual and temporal, and 
 the commons of the same Parliament assembled, and by auctority 
 of the same zvere made, fyc. During which Sessions he had granted 
 him by statute the tonnage and pondage of wines and wayres, 
 not for a yeare or two, but during hys naturall life. In his second 
 yeare he had liberally yeelded him large summes upon his privy 
 Seales : he had also divers fifteenes, loanes, and benevolences. 
 
 In his first Parliament, Charters, priviledges and liberties were 
 confirmed. But I see no stoare of generall pardons in hys time, 
 although it was and had byn a busye age, by meanes of the quar- 
 rel betwene the two great houses of Yorke and Lancaster. 
 
 H is brother Richard by the unkinde making away of his ne- Richard 3. 
 phewes ruled the rost two yeres, two moneths, and a day, whose 
 statutes are enacted, as before, at the requeste of the commons of 
 the same Realme, yet sought hee by all the favourable wayes hee 
 coulde, to purchase hymselfe naturall subjects, though he unnatu- 
 rally came to the kingdome. 
 
 Henrie the seventh after him obtained the Crowne, (in the Henry 7 . 
 beginning as it were by force, next confirmed by the marryage 
 of Elizabeth eldest daughter to Edwarde the fourth), who called 
 divers Parliaments, and in them all takes this course of auctority 
 for enacting of the statutes of the same, The King our soveraigne 
 lord, Henry the seventh, fyc. in the first yere of his raigne, to the 
 honor of God and holy church, and for the common profite of the 
 liealme, by the assent of the Lords spiritual and temporal, and the 
 commons in the same Parliament assembled, and by auctority of the 
 same Parliament, hath done to be made ccrtaine statutes, fyc. He 
 had sundry exactions, subsidies, and benevolences, wherof ensued 
 some dangerous and troublesome civil wanes, besides the putting- 
 in execution of many penal statutes, more profitable to him, than 
 welcome to those who payde for them. If you loke in Maister 
 Hall the Cronycler, you shall finde more than enough touching 
 
74 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 the same, and specially so broadely to touch Councellours for 
 doing their princes commaundement in matters lawful, tho in 
 deede (I must confesse) odious to the people. King Henrie being 
 not like to recover a sickenesse had taken him, either by remorse 
 of conscience, or by other occasion it pleased him to conceive, 
 did pardon those matters for the which he could not chose but 
 heare the grievous repining and murmure of his subjects. 
 
 Henry 8. Henrie the eighte followed him, in whose time were made a 
 
 Bible of statutes, and till the two and twentith of his raigne, he 
 had the very same wordes, as his father used in the beginning of 
 his Parliamentes, and tho then the same still followed not in 
 course, yet the Parliamentes w ere held of the estates, wherein the 
 commons were one. What subsidies, and aides of money he had, 
 and what and howe many enacted pardons hee gave, nowe to re- 
 peate is but losse of time, sith v r e are come thus farre. 
 
 Edward 6. To go tliorow with king Edward, queene Marie, king Philip, 
 
 Queene Mary. an d our m0 st gracious Princesse hir majestie that now is, as I have 
 
 K. Philip. 
 
 Queene 
 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 w T ith the rest, w ere burning of daylight. 
 
 Sith w r e have hetherto brought the Parliament, nowe let us 
 shortely gather what w r ee can of these Collections touching the 
 original Antiquitie and the manner thereof. 
 
 First Brute in the yeare of the w r orlde, 28 55, before the yeare 
 of grace, 1 108, began the Empire of this He. Hee founde it with- 
 out law^s, he made some. Mulmutius, 441 yeres before Christ 
 added more. Gurguintus put a little to. Marcia that noble 
 Queene, about the 360 yeare before Christ confirmed many : and 
 so remayned this lande, governed I suppose without our forme of 
 Parliament, for I cannot perceive there w T as any state of nobility. 
 The greate Cities and Borowes were long a building, some 300, 
 400, 500 yeares, one after another, and more : The Shires nether 
 devided, nor inhabited : a nation living in civil warres, thefte and 
 ravyne ; barbarous often for want of foresight and lawe, so dispeo- 
 pled, as hardily there remayned sufficient to manure their landes, 
 and lesse, to defende their Territories. The yeare 51, before our 
 Savyour toke flesh, Julius Caesar the Romaine made conquest of 
 this region, and anexed it to the Romayne auctority, w r ho had 
 tribute (tho sometime it were denyed) and gouerned by their Cap* 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 73 
 
 taynes and Emperors, toke the defence of the same upon them, as 
 their often hither coming with armies and building of walles be- 
 wene the Scottes, Pictes, and Britons, doth well witnesse, till the 
 443 yeare of Christes Nativity, at whiche time they neglected the 
 matter, not willing, as it seemed, to buy a trifle too deare, nor 
 dayly to be troubled to come from Rome (but a steppe) to defende 
 them who had no ability to holde their owne feete, nor (as it is to 
 be feared) woulde learne. And although in this time somewhat is 
 indited by Eleutherius the Bishop of Rome to Lucius, who is ac- 
 cepted the first Christened king, yet if you wey the matter well, 
 you shall finde, that will not doe. About the yeare 430 , the Saxons 
 and Angles being sente for, entred, and loke howe many king- 
 domes they erected, how long in warres before, how they continued, 
 how they were brought to one Monarchic, and the sequele then, 
 and you shall finde there was no leysure for Parliaments. In read- 
 ing, I have gathered many floures out of Maister William Lam- 
 barts garden, a gentleman after my verdict, tho unknowne to mee, 
 for hys payneful, rare, and learned Collection, worthy to bee 
 knowne; and then (no doubt,) of all well disposed to learning 
 and knowledge of the antique customes of our Country, to be 
 greatly honored : I could make many Nosegayes for you oute of 
 his well set plantes : but you are yong enough to gather them your 
 selfe, and I will yelde that to Caesar which is Ca?sars due, tho 
 perhaps I would be glad to be worthy to be Caesar my selfe. Yet 
 thus much 1 will put you in minde what you shall have in Maister 
 Lambart, for the seasons of the Saxons and Angles kingdomes : 
 They devided the Shires, the worlde is theirs, they parted into 
 hundred and weapon-tackes (the specche is olde English) Folk moot 
 and Sheremote was appointed by them, compounded Saxon words, 
 of the which there were two uses in the Saxons time, for there 
 were two sortes therof, one in the same nature that we have le 
 Countie Courte, the other, le Turne del Vicont. S. Edward in his 
 lawes appointed also two kinds of Folkmotes, which were given 
 notice of by the ringing of belles, in olde Englishe called Mothel. 
 The first was when any unaccustomed peril or daunger was doubted 
 to the common wealth : And then were the hundreds and Wea- 
 pontackes within the Shrivalties gathered together. And also 
 
76 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 wythin themselves the Burgesses, of Cities walled, Borowes and 
 fortresses of strength (to the which liberties and priviledges were 
 graunted, bicause their force was better able to keepe together 
 and defende the people in the tyme of Hostilitie) assembled to 
 councell what way were best to be taken in such times. Also in 
 the same Folkmote, which ofte times is named the Common coun- 
 cel, the subjectes of this Land did their fealty, and were sworne 
 as here before divers times. Touching the othe to the prince, I 
 have recyted to you : And for sufficient proufe hereof, the Lon- 
 doners of late yeres have used the worde, and at this day directly 
 in effecte kepe the matter, when they assemble themselves, as ofte 
 as neede requires, to their common councel, the Folkemote in 
 deed. The seconde Folkemote was for the electing of Sherifs, and 
 officers under them, for taking order that the watches were kepte, 
 and great heed had to scath fire. In the Saxons governement 
 there were at the last, two kinds of regiments, by the which the 
 country was directed : the one, the West Saxons, the other the 
 Marches : who as they were proceeded of two nations, so each 
 held the rights received from their ancestors. The Saxons kept 
 themselves kings here, tho with much ado and great continual 
 slaughters, not only with the ancient inhabitants of this land, but 
 with themselves, one king with another, till the yere 1018 , during 
 which time you see many ordinaunces established, but how far 
 from the way of our Parliament your own discretion will con- 
 ceive, if you have good consideration of the times, people, and 
 maner of lawing. Canutus the Dane, the yere 1018 , was abso- 
 lute king of the whole Realme, whiche the Danes claymed firste 
 by conqueste of Swaynus their king, father to Canutus : and next 
 by agreement made betwene Edmund Ironside and him : his laws 
 you have : see what you find there. So great conquerors do not 
 commonly grant such large freedomes to subjects, to have interest 
 with them in the common welth, neither yet do bind themselves 
 to so hard termes, to establish nothing without the consente of the 
 other two states. Far unlike it is, that of Danes he had full sup- 
 plie to furnish the whole state of nobilitie, and the whole Borowes 
 and counties: But graunt he had, shall I beleeve he would set 
 down another maner of governement than the Danes do at this 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 77 
 
 day, and almost have alwaies maintayned, which is, all things to 
 passe by the kings auctority and the nobilities, without the thirde 
 estate. He was not constrained at any time againste his will : for 
 the poore Englishe nation, God knowes, were laide low enough. 
 The Danes raigned not here above twenty-live yeres, allowing 
 Canutus the first king. Yet would I faine learn, whether by 
 Parliament and general consent of the three estates thereof, the 
 excessive Tributs were graunted, and the exaction called the 
 Dane gelt which the English people only even from the begin- 
 ning of the raigne of the Danes were compelled yerely to pay to 
 their kings, was Parliament wise enacted. 
 
 Saint Edwards lawes, if you loke over, you shall finde nothing 
 to serve your tourne. The Conqueror William in the yeare 1066 
 obtained the Crowne : how streight a hande he helde on the sub- 
 dued inhabitauntes of this lie, is well known. Till the twentith 
 yere of Henrie the thirde I heare of no Parliament, unlesse you 
 will have all consultations Parliamentes, as in the fortith of 
 Henry the 8, I see a statute made for one Richarde Strode a 
 Burges in that Parliament, for that hee was condemned in 160 
 pounde at certaine Courts of the Steynery, and by auctority 
 thereof imprisoned for the same, by cause he had (as it was aleaged) 
 greatly hindred by his speeches in the Parliament their liberties 
 and privileges. Upon this complaint to the three estates, the Act 
 was made for his discharge, in the end wherof an enquiry is ap- 
 pointed touching the digging of tinne : and the letter is thus : 
 Be it enquired for our soveraigne Lorde the king , that zchereas at 
 the Parliament holden at Crokerentor before Thomas Denys de- 
 putye to sir Henrie Marney knight , warden of the Steynery , fyc. 
 Here you have your word otherwise applyed than we accusto* 
 mably do. So that the worde carries not awaye with it alwayes 
 the fulnesse of the matter. Some would long sith have comprised 
 in it, how King Henrie the thirde was by armes constrained to do 
 what he would not. You have recited to you what auctority he 
 uses in enacting: you also have, and likewise 1 have gone thorow 
 all the Parliaments of the rest of the Kings, which I have thought 
 needcfull : the exact overloking wherof, and due noting of the 
 forme of the nobility in time past, after the Danish manner, great 
 
 M 
 
78 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 sway beares in this common welth : the aydes, subsidies, exac- 
 tions, and customes generally so oft consented to, with better 
 willes, and more quietnesse, than in former ages : the number of 
 penal statutes and generall pardons of the Prince, will disswade 
 the Antiquity of our thirde voices, which many do defende, and 
 also will shewe a lighte of the admitting the third person in this 
 trinity. I cannot meete with the name of the Knight of a Shire 
 or Burges of the Parliament, or any such men, mentioned tyl 
 now of late dayes. In the twenty-seventh yere of Edward the 
 thirde, in the beginning of a Parliament he says thus : Wheras 
 good deliberation had with the Prelates , Dukes , Erles, Barons , and 
 greate men of the Countries , that is to say, of every country one, for 
 all the counties, and of the commons of Cities and Burgesses of our 
 Realm, fyc. The fifte yeare of Richard the seconde there is a 
 statute, That if any Knight of the Shire, Citizen of Citie, or Burges 
 of Borow, did not uppon sommons come to the Parliament, not 
 having laztful excuse, should be amerced. Anno 13 of the same 
 king you have an act for the Kings wages. Anno 7 of Henrie the 
 fourth it is enacted touching their elections. Anno 1 of Henrie 
 the fifth you have the like for chosing of Knights and Burgesses. 
 In Henrie the sixts time and after, there are sundry Acts con- 
 cerning the same matter. If you consider the late enacting of 
 these things, you shall finde later use of our newe Parliament, 
 than of some is thought : for I thinke Knightes and Burgesses 
 never coulde nor might appeare in Councel before they were au- 
 torised, and the maner of their apperance knowne. It may be 
 that you and some other who shall mete with this my proceed- 
 ings in this matter, will marvell why I make so long a preamble, 
 and that in such forme, to so shorte an advise which I sende you. 
 Againe, the world is many times so aukwardely disposed, as it 
 will deeme the worste of mens meanings. And leaste the repeat- 
 ing of these things to you should of Malbouch, who never sayde 
 well, be conceived that I shote to disgrace that noble, grave, and 
 necessarie thirde state of Parliament (whiche if I were so lew r dly 
 disposed, I never were able to touch) I first protest before him 
 who knowes the secretes of all mens workings, it is furthest from 
 my thought. The cause of this my long recitall of one thing and 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 79 
 
 other, grewe of three parts. One, to shewe how happily we obr 
 tained that rare interest in the common wealth, where the monar- 
 chial governement strikes the stroke, therby to thank God, wyth- 
 out whom far lesse matters cannot stande. Secondly, that we 
 should not be forgetful of the great, gracious, liberall, and con- 
 tinual favour of the Princes of this land, who have not only 
 consented freely to the confirmation of this third estate, but more 
 than that, never undoubtedly repented the allowaunce therof, as 
 well may be proved, for that they never cavilled therin. What 
 contented mindes of late ages, the Kings and Queenes of this 
 Realme have carried in matters of Parliament, when things have 
 not fallen out currant to their expectations, I thinke not only all 
 Parliament men, but the whole country knowes. And if I de- 
 sired to picke thanks the most allowed way, which is, in telling 
 truth, I coulde make a long libel of hir majesties (that now is) 
 particular patience, favor, great suffering, and well accepting of 
 matters of Parliament : but I will leave it to a better workman 
 to be booked by it selfe, bycause it will aske a great volume. 
 Thirdly, to shew what a Jewel you have of this most free, gene- 
 ral, and universal consultative kind of Lawmaking, therby to be 
 careful, not only to kepe and preserve that odde grace granted to 
 no nation, but to our selves, in such like regiments, but also in 
 all respects dutifully to put to our indevor to be worthy members 
 of so great a councell, I will but remember you of a fewe lynes 
 of Plato, who never knewe England, and muche lesse the English 
 Parliament, in his booke of his common welthe he makes mention 
 of three kindes of rule, viz. Monarchia , Aristocrat ia , and Demo - 
 cratia. Where the Prince doeth all (sayes he) lawes shall be 
 made as best shall like him, without regarde to others : where 
 nobility, and a certain number of the greatest holde the helme, 
 the ship will be directed to what haven they please. If decrees 
 and ordinaunces lye in the multitudes heads, they will be popular. 
 See you these imperfections for the want of combyning these 
 three kinds togither, whiche done, and no lawe passe without all 
 their consents, who shall have cause to complaine? who is ex- 
 empted out of this common wealth ? who is wronged or put to the 
 wall? who agrees not to his owne wealth or want? O Anglia 
 
80 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 terque quaterque beat a, that doth injoy that blessed privilege, 
 which to maintaine, as I beseeche all men, so to my best I will 
 proceede to advise you, of whom I have most tender care, to take 
 such hede in all your actions touching the same, as it by you, may 
 be ( Pro virile ) strengthned, you experienced and well deserving 
 therof, and I joyfull to heare of the considerate discharging of 
 your duety. 
 
 First is to be considered what your auctority is, and howe farre 
 it doth reache ; from whence you had the same, what trust they 
 have committed to you, and what they expect at your hands that 
 elected you therto : Then by what means you shall best discharge, 
 without the indignation of the Prince or misliking of the nobility, 
 that trust, to the profit of your electors. The former parts are 
 easyer to be set downe than the latter pointes, drawen into assured 
 advices, and unfallible precepts. But bycause (as I sayde in the 
 beginning) I am to write to you, who I am sure will take in good 
 meaning my well determined remembraunces, rather than scrupu- 
 lously picke out the insufficiency therof (which I must confesse is 
 great yet not wholly so fruitelesse and unfurnished, but that you 
 may gather some fewe Apples out of a small Orchard). Our Par- 
 liament consisteth of three estates : First, the Prince ; the second, 
 the nobility, such as are admitted by their succession, whose aun- 
 cestors have bin of the house, or the king, doth call, and the Bi- 
 shoppes : all the which without speciall licence must be personally 
 present : and if they be by any meanes absent, they give theyr 
 voyces to some one they best like, who is residant. The third of 
 the Commons, wherin is comprised the yonger sonnes of the nobi- 
 lity, and in a manner all the heires apparante, very few except, the 
 fathers living, all the gentry and the whole rest. It is thus furnish- 
 ed : there are two Knightes chosen of every county but in Wales, 
 where the Shires have but one, and of every Citty and Borrowe 
 Corporate two Burgesses, fewe excepte, who of late time were 
 made corporations, and also the Cities and Borowes in Wales, 
 who follow as their counties doe. Of these knightes and Burgesses 
 is your thirde house. Wythout the consent of these three bodies 
 no newe invocation hath power to deprive the subjectes of this 
 lande, of life, laweful inheritance, or goods. The autority therof 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 81 
 
 doth stretch to them all, to take away life, inheritaunce, yea of the 
 Crowne of this Realme, and every mans chattels, and hath full 
 power to make and alter lawes, and to use the English phrase, the 
 lawe lies in their hands ; the Prince is sole of himselfe, and enact- 
 eth nothing alone : the nobilitye and Bishoppes are upon the 
 pointe of eightie, and rather under, sometyme more or lesse, as 
 some may be under age, and some Bishoprikes voyde, who offer- 
 ing a lawe, doe make none of themselves. The thyrde and great 
 body of this councel consisteth (the king, nobility and Bishops 
 foreprised) of all the inhabitauntes of the country, and therefore 
 of a mightye number of members : yet can it stablishe no ordi- 
 naunce absolutly saojure. But see the great and to other people 
 untasted of benefit of this lawe making, as I have saide before : 
 shall one enacte ? no; shall two estates binde the third? as little; 
 shall the whole three stricke it uppe ? God forbid else : for (as be- 
 fore) who can complayne when his agrement is in ? and who de- 
 nyes, when all men say yea? So when the greatest number of the 
 Lords, and the most of the commons consente, tho some be far 
 off, yet it doth importe general ratification : else how shall you 
 labor? in vaine: for it is not possible that so many should directly 
 hit uppon one minde and judgement in things argued; we can 
 have no more that just Harmonye of concente, that the 77 Inter- 
 preters of the Byble had, and yet no doubt (I truste) the best for 
 the most part taken. Your autority you see, now go forth : who 
 put you therin ? The lower or common house of Parliament 
 standeth of 442 persons, 78 Knights, and 32b Burgesses for Eng- 
 land: and for Wales (Monmouth Shire accompted no part thereof) 
 12 Knights, and as many Burgesses : for the ports, which are now 
 7 accompted, fourteene, which are called Barones portium , who 
 are chosen by the whole commons of the Realme, under which 
 name is understood (as you have before) not only the artificer, the 
 Bcgger, the yeoman, the husbandman, all and the whole, all of 
 those sorts; but also the universal 1 gentry and many of the nobi- 
 litye of Birth, who are not Barons of the higher house. The 
 Knightes are elected by the county, and should be inhabitaunts 
 in the same: the Burgesses in the corporations, which by statute 
 are appointed to be dwelling Burgesses in the towne from whence 
 
82 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 they are sente. So that it is playne, that you have your aucthority 
 of the greatest in number, the mightiest de se in force, and by 
 whorne the Prince is maintained, the country from age to age 
 manured and peopled, and the Lordes remaine Lordes, whose rentes 
 and services could not be due without them. Now thinke with 
 your selfe what confidence these persons have in you, when they 
 appointe you in this Rome of enacting or disanulling. Your 
 number of Parliament men you see in your house are fewe to the 
 huge multitude of them whose consents are bounde by your agree- 
 mente. What thinke they when they chose you ? Firste that you 
 are religious, wherein is comprised many parts, as to feare God 
 and to be charitable. And tho there be many other points which 
 particularly might be recited touching religion, yet in the love 
 and feare of God and the Charity towardes a mans neighbour I 
 conceive all other braunches to hang: next, that you do entirely 
 favor your Country and tender the weltli therof : thirdely, that 
 they are perswaded of your wisedome, grave judgement, experi- 
 ence, and diligent consideration : fourthly, that you will not be 
 abused with fayre words, terrified with threatnings, corrupted with 
 brybes of the great ones: fiftly, not wrested by giftes of equals, 
 nor moved with the affection of the frendship of them : sixtly, not 
 frette with the Canker of malice and envy, nor subject to sodain 
 fury, the overthrower of all good procedings, which will procure 
 you carelesse of your trust : Seuenthly, not expecting commenda- 
 tion by eloquence and Oratory words, rather than by substance of 
 direct matter, reason, and truth, but above all things, wholely 
 and onely hoyse up your sayles to serve in all respectes that body 
 wherof you are a member. 
 
 They commit unto your considerations their libertyes, not 
 only of person but of living, their goods, their lands, their lives, 
 their attainders of bloud, all that they have, shall have, or can 
 have, their wives and children already borne, their posterity to 
 come, whose inheritaunce to accrew by discente and honor, from 
 auncient predecessors to bee invested with, they yeelde into your 
 hands, and not only to bind them hereafter to stand to your doome 
 and decree from time to come, to alio we of your possitive direction 
 not alreadye passed, but also submit themselves and all before re- 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 83 
 
 cited, unto what you shall dispose of it, with a loking backe con- 
 sideration whereby you may nerely touche them : the confidence 
 placed in you is so great trust, Iterum iterumque Cunctando, as Quin- 
 tus Fabius Max. did, to be thought of in this case. Now let us 
 see by what meanes you shall discharge this trust, without the in- 
 dignation of the Prince, and misliking of the nobility. First 
 touching the nobility and prince, Qui vadit plane vadit sand. Take 
 this matter in hande Virgin like, in the simplenesse of your minde, 
 and well meaning of all things. Take heede of two faces in one 
 hoode: deale with reverence to the prince, with duty of betternesse 
 to the Lordes, and with waking care with your fellowes. I may not 
 deny but perchaunce some Prince may be willing to procure the 
 passing of a law more beneficiall in particular to him selfe, than 
 pleasaunt to those who are represented in your house. And also 
 the nobility may do the like in their own causes : may you not 
 duetifully repugne such demaundes? may you not argue the in- 
 convenience is like to ensue? may you not diswade? may you not 
 boldely yeelde your no? Yes assuredly, and incur no displeasure 
 at all. And although you may bee frowned on by the Prince and 
 others, yet they will knowe you well enough, commende you in 
 secrete, gladde to win you to imploy in service, judge you wise, 
 honest, and one worthy to be trusted, and not a Butterfly, a sixe 
 weekes Birde : Wheras if you follow their humors, if their turnes 
 be served, if you play the hireling, they perhap will smyle upon 
 you for the time, never trust you, but in the ende shake you off. 
 Princes be glad of traytours of their enemies subjectes : Yet what 
 Prince would have any of his owne people so ? or will trust the 
 others in any action, but to serve a present turne? As Demadcs 
 aunswered the Ephores very well, who moved him to commit the 
 leading of certaine Souldiers to a traytor: you shall pardon me 
 (quoth he) for trusting hym with mine, who hath betrayed his 
 owne. If you will sooth and juggle, you shall have John serving- 
 mans rewarde, yea at the princes hand and the nobilities. Altho 
 possibly you have heardc the tale of this well shotten John, yet 
 thus it was : A gentleman not best experienced, stoode well in 
 hys own conceyte for judgemente (as commonly the simplest do) 
 his chaunce was to entertayne a servauntc wiser in deed than the 
 
84 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 maistet, but too playne a dealer to profit himself, and therefore no 
 worldely Doctor. Thys Gentleman taking his opinions conceived, 
 always to be infallible, would breake them with his man, not so 
 much to conferre for his advise, as to set out the ripenesse of his 
 owne capacitye, who perceiving his Maister was in a manner al- 
 wayes in a wrong Boxe, and building Castels in the ay re, or catch- 
 ing Hares with Tabers, coulde not sooth such unlikely toyes, 
 whereby he must seeke him a newe habitation : who woulde kepe 
 such a contrarying Knave ? reporte goes this man is out of service, 
 and why? forsooth the cause is recited. Maister John a currifauour 
 meaning to thrive where the other coulde not, (among hys Ernes and 
 kindred, taken for a proper nurtured hynd), sekes out this gentle- 
 man with very low cursey, gyves his worship the time of the day, 
 demaundes if his worship wants a servant, and worship and Maister- 
 ship hath much adoe with him. This cleane speeched manne is 
 entertained, the maister confers nothing with John, but John 
 playes the John, he highly commends his Maisters devises, he 
 prayses hys judgements : what so he speakes, be it never so fonde, 
 John sweres doth procede of a good wit. As Stephen the foole of 
 Huntington was wonte to saye, time teacheth experience, far he 
 goes that never returnes, and very simple he is, that dayly swal- 
 lowetli flies and will not learne to keepe hys lippes together. This 
 gentleman began to finde that John did guyle with him, whome 
 too prone, he brought into a very fayre meadowe, and as it were 
 out of a great study demaunded of John how to most profit he 
 might employ the same: John musing what to answerer his 
 Maister followed, now (quoth he) can I tell how to reape greate 
 benefit hereof, Salt is at a high price, I will sowe the Meadowe 
 therewith, if God sende me a good croppe, 1 shall be a made man. 
 John hereat clappes his handes on his thighes, Jesus, Maister 
 (saith he) you shall drinke before mee, for I thought uppon the 
 like matter. Here is flattering John taken : by whom? by a sim- 
 ple man, by one who delighted in his musicke: he pluckes his 
 Coate over his eares, he knaves Maister John, and tournes him 
 out of the doores like a Rascal marchant. If you play Johns parte 
 with Princes, whose experience and wisedome of themselves is 
 great, and much by councel, do you thinke to avoyde Johns re- 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 &5 
 
 warde? If you John it with the nobility, do you deeme them chil- 
 dren? will not nobility followe in deede the noblenesse of bloud, 
 to abhorre and detest suche shamelesse shifting Jackeryes ? yes 
 assuredly, to your utter infamy and overthrowe. But take the 
 other course, and truth may be blamed, but it will never be 
 shamed. It may be loked bigge on, but it will not be out of 
 countenaunce : it may bee shut out ‘of the dore, but it wyll bee 
 sente for in againe and set at the table with the best, when curte- 
 ous Maister John shall be glad to take the leaving of the Pages : 
 and hereof assuredly perswade your selfe, unlesse your minde be 
 so far possessed with mischiefe, to thinke that Falcons can feed 
 off carrion, or Dolphyns delight in puddels, w r hich as by nature 
 they do abhorre, so do Princes and nobility by long succession 
 nourished and bredde in honour, rejecte and contempne all suche 
 servile disceyte, and treasonable shifting. 
 
 Now are we come to consider ho we to answere the office your 
 trusters put you in, not for any perticular profit, but for the whole 
 common good. Hoc opus hie labor est. But if those good parts be 
 in you which they perswade are, as is recited, the burden is soone 
 discharged, to all your commendations, wealth, and quietnesse. 
 First they accompt of you as one religious, &c. and after as you 
 have heard. As touching that part I presume not to deale, bicause 
 the Cobler may not passe the shoe : but with feare I will reve- 
 rently with all good meaning embrace the sounde and perfecte 
 opinion of the Learned, which for the two parts, the one duty to 
 God, and the other to a mans neighbour, lies open to all menne 
 by Devines, the latchets of whose shooes I counte not my selfe 
 w r oorthy to unloose. Marcus Tullius Cicero, let me remember 
 you of, and of his treatise de Amicitia , which being a boy, (as 
 Scollers do) I did unwillingly acquaint my selfe w r ith. He makes 
 not (as I take it) above foure payre of friendes, whose names 
 being so common, to repeate again, were but spending of inke 
 and paper. He commends, when men would so far (as I may 
 terme it) beleve in other for friendship sake, as they drew cuts 
 who should go to the racke first : and not so onely, but the one 
 would face down a lye, to be tormented to save the other. Tulli 
 sayde true, for he saide it Historically. I am sory the Paganisme 
 
 N 
 
 
86 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHEB OF F. A. 
 
 may cast in our noses foure rare examples, and we not able to 
 afourde them one such couple. If you had such a one yourselfe 
 as Eurialus was to Nisus, Damon to Pythias, Orestes to Pylades, 
 and Theseus to Perithous, were one to another, you coulde not 
 but make of such a jewel. And if you would beguile him, who 
 should have the losse ? your selfe only, in respecte of all extre- 
 mity among the best, (by whom I meane the vertuous and not the 
 Turks Bassaes) for why? ingratitude shold rather deserve quar- 
 tering, than clipping of coine. This friendship for such affiance 
 and trust betwene party and party is rare, is commendable, is not 
 to be found, and yet dependeth upon particular action betwene 
 two : it is determyned betwene them, that is, at the death or ab- 
 sence of either, of both, and then so far as well wishing may ex- 
 tend. But see what the commons of Englande put in your handes, 
 when you are chosen a spokesman for them. They end not with 
 their lives that make you a Parliament man, but with the perti- 
 culars, and all in all that I named before. Wyll you have more 
 than all given you, of him that demes well of you ? you cannot. 
 Do they store up in you by trust conceived, what depends upon 
 them (as it is recited) it semeth so : judge your selfe. Will you 
 go to the Law of nature, to the Law of God, to the Law of Princes, 
 to the Law of Confederats? will not all condemne you if you 
 juggle ? I have found it so. Although in very deede some men 
 accept juggling for an English worde in good part, yet I never 
 understoode it in Chaucer or olde English, neyther in the con- 
 science of the professors of Charity or w r ell dealing : part the 
 wordes at your pleasure, enter to Ethnickes or to Christians. 
 Here is the warre, here is the daunger, here is both your credits, 
 that is, the electors theirs and yours, upon a mum cliaunce, 
 (pardon me if I offend in wordes, I have playde at the dice). If 
 you discharge your truste well, they are in your debt, and they 
 well may vaunte of the perfection of your execution, not more 
 that you have done a thing commendable in general, than that 
 they have chosen in perticular, so sufficient a member in so great 
 a cause : here is a good Harmonie, the well and true singing of 
 which song makes all men merry at midnight, at all times, in all 
 things, and alwayes, not now only present, but to come, yea those 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 87 
 
 who never smelt of the matter. If you go a trewanting, if you 
 play Legerdemayn, if you will be bridled, if you gape for am- 
 bition, if you play the Mongrel, if fayre words abuse you, if care- 
 lesnes make you hold no hand of your doings, if fury make you 
 dronk, if affection blinde you, hereof will proceede not only to 
 your trusters and theirs now borne and unborne, (I use the word 
 still, by cause I knowe not how so rightly to hit the minde of your 
 choosers who commit trust in you) Ploratus and Stridor dentium , 
 but the same to you and yours, in like predicament, although 
 some present outward shew may make you thinke the contrary. 
 And therefore what I have gathered of others, for Prater audition 
 nihil habeo , I will follow, wdiich and God graunt, you may re- 
 ceive as much benefit thereof, as I desire, if you want from me, 
 the faulte is not mine, you have the best I can upon the maner 
 of wry ting of letters. I perswade with my selfe you cannot pos- 
 sibly play the spider w T yth these my barren flowers, tho it were in 
 May or June. If you make any hony of them, I will be the 
 gladder to go to my grave In consummatione atatis met , for that 
 to you and to my country, (two parts of my greatest care) I shall 
 be assured some benefit will redowme by the reliques of my col- 
 lections, whiche I never tended for my owne prefermente, so 
 muche as for the advauncement of the common wealth, as is to 
 be gathered by my beggery, which perhaps I might better have 
 withstoode, if I could have given my selfe Adulari , and Syco- 
 phantari. Your countryes welfare must alwayes be your onely 
 and greatest care. The florishing whereof is the Princes strength 
 and joylity, the nobilities quietnesse and greatnesse. For as a 
 King cannot King it, without people, nor Lordes Lord it without 
 Tenauntes, no more can nations live in common welths without 
 the higher authority : The musicke of which three joyned and 
 agreing in one, doth make the olde one-legged man hop for joy, 
 and the white heares to dye in peace. See how God hath given 
 to all men the liking of the land and soyle whereout they are 
 bred. I will not speake of delicate France, of fat England, of 
 fruiteful Italie, of careful governed Spayne, of wanton Germany, 
 and other like countries, wherin we have not onely more than 
 sufficient to feed and cloth ourselves with, besides many nice and 
 
88 
 
 ADMONITION BY T1IE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 superfluous delights, but never dered with extremity either of cold 
 or heate, or for want of civil rule to condemne our quietnesse. 
 But go to the naked Ethiopes in dlfrike, whose sowty couler and 
 cave dwelling, declare the persecution they suffer by heate, ban- 
 ning and cursing the sunne going down who leaves them for all 
 the shifts they can make, as smoking browne bread newe drawne 
 out of the oven, their homely diet serpents flesh, with a fewe 
 starved cattel whiche they have in estimation as theyr lives, 
 naming their children by their names and not after theyr fathers, 
 for that they acknowledge the sustentation of their beyng, of them, 
 and for the same, live in continual warres among themselves. I 
 count not thicke Englishe Beefe, or Bacon, neither yet the Licor 
 whiche presently eyther they must quench their thirst with or dye, 
 the wyne of Orleaunce, Not far from these faire babes dwell the 
 Tawny Moores the Azanegies , who feed not to fill their bellies, 
 but measure their hunger by the stoare of victual which most 
 barenly and scarcely theyr Country yeldes them. Your Acra - 
 dophagiy as fayre as goodman Negro , is pleased to leape at Saint 
 John Baptists locust, and contents himselfe without chaunge with 
 that viandrize. These people live not above fourty yeares, and in 
 fine moste pitifully are consumed w'ith flying Lice naturally 
 breeding in themselves. Also the Icthiophagi , birdes of the same 
 bushe of Ethiope, who live only by fishe, not for Religion as 
 Charterhouse Monkes, but as hungry Dogges, without sauce, for 
 necessity. These and other infinit numbers under that scalding 
 heaven and insterile soyles suffering their purgatorie in this world, 
 yet home is homelyest with them, they will not away. God and 
 nature hath so combyned and chaunged their likings to their 
 country, as they will say with the Scottish man when he comes 
 to London, or to the fay rest Town in Europe, that (Edenborowe 
 except) it is the godly est place he ever set his foote in : even so 
 will the nations recited not sticke to fall out with hym that will 
 disprayse their dwellings, although as there is statelier buildings 
 than Edenborowe, so is there more pleasaunt clymates and fertyler 
 grounds than Ethiope: I may not goe thorowe w r ith so many 
 southren people, as by bookes I could recite unto you, for spence 
 of time, and chiefly when a fewe may suffice. But now let me 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F* A. 89 
 
 lightlye ninne over some particulars of the unmerciful sternenesse 
 of the Northern Pole, as heavy to the inhabitaunte feelers for ex- 
 tremity of the cold, as the parching sunne importable to the 
 ugly Moores, and yet Country quart, is good quart. The urchins 
 will not out of their Denne, they will rather live in native lande 
 with these discomodities following, than change for the Paradice 
 of Fraunce, or the Kitchin of England. Firste go no further than 
 to Islande, a corner at hande, which in Solstitio Hiemali , enjoyes 
 small sunne, but the people there for that time at our noone dayes 
 (if the*y have no candel) may play at blindman buffe, their colde 
 is horrible, their mansions Conney fashion, their drinke is running 
 W ater, weake califaction for such W ether as is there : Their 
 
 breade, dried fishe, Corn and Licor, not fit for Ladyes. But if 
 they happe of a candels ende, some course barley Cantel, and a 
 sope of small beere, they are so gallant, and well pleased, that 
 they desire not my Lord Maior of London to bee their kinsman. 
 I will not talke of Norway, nor of Sweden, Finlande, or Goth- 
 land, nor those adjacent countryes to Denmarke, in the warmest 
 whereof wee Englishe olde beaten souldiers would oftener blow 
 our fingers than wash our faces. And like to Naples, the Para- 
 dice of Italy, in comparison to Muscovia, parte of Ruthinea , 
 Temtliia , Bothinia , Lappia , Tornia, Striphinia , Finmarchia, and 
 Biarmia , in the which, such bitter windes, such great hilles of 
 Frost and Snow, such thicke uncomfortable clowdes, such large 
 nightes of halfe a yeare long, such seldome sights of that com- 
 fortable gentleman Maister Phebus, would make a man lay the 
 key under the dore, and wishe the devil to heate the country, and 
 the sunne to warme them. What should I tell you of the incre- 
 dible operation of that country, congeling of the most violent 
 and as it is unnaturall (in respect of forcible moving) of the 
 windes, the terror that ordinarye tempestes and lightnings bring- 
 eth, no lesse to be beleved than liked? what of that penetrating 
 cold that boring out the inhabitants eyes, gives them the sauce of 
 hunger, Optimum Condiment um, and small soppes to their dinner, 
 flees their skinnes of without edge tooles, makes them blow away 
 their noses in their napkins, and yet plauges them with catars, rewmes, 
 and will you have the English worde truely, the playne snotte and 
 
90 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 snivil, so as though the nose be gon, they must wipe where it was, 
 or else some unsaverly matter will runne in their mouthes. I over- 
 passe a great company of incommodities, the lest of the which would 
 sende many of our nice faulte finders once a day into a slow of Cowe 
 Casins, and glad they had it too. All these inconveniences and 
 wantes, huntes not the borne whelps to seeke new footyng, neither 
 makes them the lesse careful with manlike war to defend their in- 
 devors. Thus see you barbarous Ethnickes, wilde Christians, and 
 superstitious nations at this present if you search their professions, 
 to the whiche (I meane not to digresse) to leave theyr native coun- 
 try. Well I tell you, but yet I must further, bycause I cannot omitte 
 those country lovers, whose memory, well meaning writers to us, 
 have sent us, for a token to followe. I cannot runne over all their 
 actions : some I have perused and more forgotten, but to a wyll- 
 ing minde, a fewe honest examples may endure to the contrary. 
 I shall but Lateram lauare , tho I were never so curious, an unpro- 
 fitable office to mee, and as little beneficiall to my Boocke. But 
 have at you, (whych is no fayre playe as olde gamsters reporte) 
 wyth such matter as I finde in auncient writings. At the laying 
 of the first stone of Rome , Romulus made an Edicte that no per- 
 son shoulde passe the appointed boundes of the Cytie, which Re- 
 mus smyling at, and comming out of the same, Fabius Celer Cen- 
 turio with a spade slew hym, wholly respecting the stablishment 
 of the common wealth, and not regarding the peril mighte ensue 
 hys rashe stroke. Looke upon Horatius Codes valiantnesse, and 
 great venturyng of hymselfe in the wars, Porsenna Kyng of the 
 Tuscanes , the resolution of Mutius Sceuola for the dispatching of 
 the same Prince, the whole house of the Romains Fabians in the 
 warres againt Veranius, were utterlye extinguished, one childe ex- 
 cept, whose lacke of yeares preserved his life, being more benefi- 
 cial to him and his posterity, than the country zeale of the rest. 
 By meanes wherof they y elded their dead Carcases. Decius Mu- 
 ries the elder Consul with Manlius Torquatus in armes against the 
 Latines, had both one dreame, that those people woulde be van- 
 quished, whose captaine shoulde be lefte dead in the field. They 
 brake one with another, and agreed, that whiche of their bands 
 did first give place, the leader must vow himselfe to the infernal 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 91 
 
 ghostes, contented to dye : which Decius chance was to do, and 
 therby with great slaughter of the enimies, the gaine was the 
 Romaines. Publius Decius Muries his son did the same. Titus 
 Manlius Torquatus stroke off his own sons head, for putting in 
 venture by fight contrarie to commaundement, the souldiers of the 
 Common welth : The prisoner Mar. Attilius Regulus his returne 
 to Affricke to Barboras tyrannie, wyth his considerations alledged 
 in the Senate, which induced him thereto. Publius Scipio Nasica 
 chosen Consull of Rome with unluckie shew of the auspices com- 
 ming, would in no respect take upon him the dealing of the office, 
 doubting the inconvenience might hap to the Empire, not by his 
 want of abilitie, or good will, but by evyl fortune to the state, and 
 contrarie aspects of the superior Planets, so tender a mynde he 
 had of his Countrie. Sylla surnamed the happy, for all his re- 
 vengeful mynde, when he had obteyned his owne will, and helde 
 hard hand on his countrie, was content to restore the old governe- 
 ment of Rome and to die a private man. Quintus Curtius, his 
 willing decay for Rome : Codrus the Athenian king for his people: 
 also Themistocles that countrieman, for all the injuries he had re- 
 ceyved at home, woulde rather willinglye drinke his owne bayne, 
 than see his natyve lande harmed : Melsiades of the same breede 
 at Marathon against the invincible shoal of the Persians : Epami- 
 nondas the Thehane , and thousandes more, for their wilful, entire, 
 only, and avowed love to their countries, have susteyned more 
 travayle, suffered greater torment, dyed assured deathes, and with 
 better contented mindes, than men of this age can beleeve, to bee 
 able to bee endured by mortlings which we all are. If Paynimes 
 did go so far in supremo gradu, looke to your selfe somewhat, who 
 are a Christian, and so farre credited as Parliament menne are. 
 They expect in you gravitie, wysedome, experience, and diligent 
 consideration. Part of the which, as they be onely the giftes of 
 God, as wisedome and gravitie; so experience and diligent con- 
 sideration, be the confirmers that strengthen, and the artificers that 
 beautifie their work, and proceede of payne taking, and good dis- 
 position of the minde. The foremost two bee the most beneficialst 
 Ladies wyth their acquaintance, and the other handmaydes, or 
 rather fellowe dames, so necessarie, as they cannot bee devided, 
 
92 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 fumishe most commodiously the place where they come. These 
 foure met in one man, make a happie person in particular, and 
 where they joyne in Lawe makers, there must needes bee a 
 flourishing Commonwealth. What inconvenience doth followe, 
 if you shoulde pipe after other mennes whistles, induced thereto 
 by a busie treble string, or a slight Scottishe Jygge? in one respect 
 I have already tolde you, that is, howe maister John will be 
 thought of by the Prince and nobilitie. Nowe see what harme 
 lightes thereby on those, who put their confidence in you, and 
 what a John you shall be made and thought of the whole world. 
 If you serve the Princes turne, hee findes no fault : if you broke 
 for the Lordes, they have no losse, but they will take you still for 
 a John, if agaynste your trust you be wonne. In this seconde 
 parte, if you daunce drunkenly, you will breake your shinnes, and 
 betray your trusters, to whom you are bounde by all the laws pos- 
 sible. If all the Knights and Burgesses in Parliament were 
 Ulisseses, the Syrenes might fall to a newe occupation. But of 
 that huge multitude that came to the warre of Troye , he was taken 
 the odde manne for witte and judgement. If but one Ulisses 
 coulde scape those fiendish monsters, and so few Ulisseses in so 
 great an armie, what perill is to be feared to fall upon our Com- 
 mon wealth, if many Syrenes, or any at all shoulde be in the 
 trade of our whole trafficke of welth and welfare. They allured 
 unto them by all pleasant meanes the passengers, to spoyle them 
 for their owne direct and particular gaine : if you sing their songs, 
 you are brought to it to please and to profit others, the acte in 
 them is not so discommendable, but you shall be the John, and 
 rewarded at the seconde hande : your faulte is greater than the 
 Syrenes, who harme but the present persons for their owne lucre: 
 you, present, absent, and posteritie; you cut large thongs out of 
 other mens lether : you fleese not, but you fley : you write not 
 lawes with Milke, but bloud : you sende not the Pyper to make 
 poore men daunce in the countrye ; but the Hangman to tye up 
 the rich, and take from the needy no more but all they have : and 
 thus muste your trusters suffer for other mens pleasures, who never 
 after will trust you, knowing you are such a mercenarie. The 
 Parliament Sirene if he be of the Lordes breede, as manie times 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 91 
 
 in your house you have of their children, if of the familye of 
 gentry, assure your selfe he is a Basterd : if hee loke never so 
 higge feare him not, he is a Coward : if he florish with never so 
 fayre a tayle, he is an Asse. Noble and gentlemans bloud, will 
 not be won against his duety, and specially where it touches his 
 country, neither with honor, threatnings, great Territories, much 
 calling, gav apparel, nor a ship full of red Ruddocks. A valiant 
 minde doth detest such chaffe. A wise man will see the infamy 
 of the facte, and with both his hands kepe his face from such a 
 wounde. Who then must be your Parliament John, if you have 
 any? some durte daubers sonne, or Coblers brat, or such like 
 whelpe of a worthy kenel, who wyll play Cat after kinde, do the 
 best you can : he is Camelionte mutabilior , yet for his harte the 
 pretie pricke cannot be white : he lives by ayre (a food of a small 
 substance) and he is of small contynuing, hee is Proteus Cousyn 
 Germayne when he falles in hand with his matter. But mark 
 how like Jacke lokes the father, his eye shewes the relicks of his 
 thoughts, his countenaunce is forced, his gesture not natural, if 
 his speech be not learned without booke, for the most parte he 
 hacks it hardly oute, he sweates, there is no joy in his face, he 
 feares how he shall be taken, he lokes as he were scarde wytli 
 Hobgoblyn. But what will you more? tho Maister Morice- 
 dauncer be dronke, yet will he daunce till he sweate for a clap of 
 the backe of the ehiefe man of the parish, tho he be the worse for 
 it as long as hee lyve : even so this your Morice footer shakes his 
 Belles among you, hoping hee makes good inusicke, as the foole 
 with the Towne Morisshers, forgetting his maisters horse collers 
 be robde of their trinckets : if he ring for the prince he layes on 
 loade, if for the nobility, he shakes both legges at once, he com- 
 mends liberality, he prayses mercy, he extolles just execution 
 of lawes, he matches religion where it should be, he soundes 
 out zealous care on poore subjects, he preserves deligent watches 
 for the enemy, he forgettes not to tell what a vertue frugality 
 is in the highest. All these and many more good taches as 
 may be, the King and Lordes are at full furnished with. 
 He hath bin forsooth perhap at Cambridge and learned the frag- 
 ments of a little Sophistrie, wherwith he with his glosing tong 
 
 o 
 
94 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 and white studied wordes, may move many well meaning Gentle- 
 men, who for wante of deepe judgemente may say yea to their 
 own prejudice, and the gravest heads without diligent heed may be 
 brought to yeelde to consent to matters they would be ashamed 
 of upon ripe consideration, whiche inconvenience, if it happen, 
 wdiat mischiefe shall fall to your w r hole state? who so blinde doth 
 not see ? When thys fine shaking tripper hath done what he can, 
 I have tolde you the thankes he shall have of the prince and no- 
 bility : and when you shall so deare pay for your learning, will 
 you not with open throate hunte the foole w ith Basons ? sure yes, 
 unlesse your simplicities bee such, that for the sure keeping of 
 your private houses, you esteeme a grinning pattering ape before 
 the sad and true mouthed mastife. To turne the Cat in the 
 panne, and to be a hirelyng, or a penny boy for any particuler 
 person, to have clientes in matters of Parliament, is token of too 
 much vilitie : for covetyse is the only occasion of too muche for- 
 getting your selfe. What should I w rite of this most filthie, un- 
 natural, and servile vice, whiche shall for a fewe angels make you 
 pleade as parcially in parliament, as in any other Court, not re- 
 garding your countrey, but the Jinks in your pocket. Such 
 spokesmen I warrant you have the matter at their fingers endes, 
 the writer out of the Copyes of Billes is set a worke, and many 
 times too for drawing the cause they come into the house, and 
 sitte with paper bookes, often read them, w ell consider of them, 
 and why ? for countries benefit (you may believe them if you wyll) 
 but marke the circumstances, and their pence are as w r ell hearde 
 chocke in the Sachel, as the white paper seene in hande. Why? 
 the bill is either private touching some one, else some very few, 
 or else some one corporation of citie, tow n, or marchants; else the 
 fraternity of some occupation, or suche like: for in deede we 
 dryehanded men, can not w*ell tende the penning and copying 
 out of Lawses, without a little moystnyng. But if they had any 
 sparke of vertue in them, they would not preferre Chauke before 
 Cheese, they would not like better of Canyon than of newe kilde 
 victual, neither blindfeele themselves, and as much as they may 
 others, w r ith so foule a savering vayle. The minde of many 
 noble Panims have abhorred such errours, and yet we Christs 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 95 
 
 professors too ofte runne headlong without backlokirig. Crates 
 when he went to studie Philosophic, cast his worldely welth into 
 the Sea, blessing them wyth a mischiefe, and that hee w r ould 
 rather drowne them, than they should choake hym. Byas in the 
 havocke of his country when every one was busy to save some- 
 what, made no fardels of his substaunce, but Roge fashion in that 
 respect, walkes awaye with his ordinary weede, and being asked 
 of some, why hee had so small care of that which every one so 
 stirred for, replied, that he had all his wyth him, meaning, Learn- 
 ing and vertue. Themistocles, after the overthrowe of Marathon , 
 seeing a dead Corpes with Chaynes and Jewels, willed one to 
 spoile it, saying, you are not Themistocles hymselfe : disdayning 
 that ungentlemanly hunger. Pittacus being offred as much of 
 his owne conquest as he would, measured his ferme by launcing 
 of the speare, and more toke not, (a small fielde to make a parke 
 of, unlesse he threw further than I can) : Codes had an Erledome 
 for his service to the common welth, he thought himselfe contente, 
 when great matters were pressed upon him, with so much lande 
 as he himselfe, being lame, coulde plowe in a day, a recompence 
 that my Baylie of husbandry for two yeres service will frowne at: 
 Lucius Quintus Cincinnatus was holding the plowe when he was 
 elected Dictator , performed greate matters, retourned to his 
 Clownish husbandrie againe, and twentie yeares after was eft 
 called to the roome, which he discharged better than any feed 
 speaker in parliament can do, that I know: so that money did not 
 the dede : Menenius Agrippa, a well deserver of the Romaine 
 Empire, for wante of his owne purse was buried by contribution 
 of the people : Martius Coriolanus refused great matters, and ac- 
 cepted a tryfle : Curius Dentatus hoysing Pyrrhus out of Italie, 
 allotted to every Poll fourtie Jugeri of land (every Jugeri being 
 taken for our Acre), and reserved as much and no more to him- 
 selfe, affirming that there should be no man whom so much wold 
 not satisfie : to him from the Samnytes (he being a rosting rapes) 
 was presented a great masse of gold, but despising that goodly 
 shew, he told them he liked very well to eate such dainties as he 
 had in hand in an erthen dish, and to rule those who had gold. 
 Of all the large and wclthy spoyles by him recovered of the eniiriy, 
 
96 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 he reserved but one gay wodden chaine, it was no doubt some 
 matter of great price for the workmanship : The fewe bagges 
 
 of P. Scipio Aemilius, M. Aemilius Scaurus father, a Patritian of 
 Rome , getting his living by playing the Collyer : the nedynesse 
 of Epaminondas who was driven to borowe thirtie shillings when 
 he entred Morea in armes, refusing Jasons crowns and the mightv 
 king of Persians thousands : Photion was no mony man, whom 
 when Antipater would with greate summes have hvred, to have 
 unjustly delte, answered he could not both bee a friende and a 
 flatterer. Many hundreds might be named, that were sounde 
 stakes to their countries, and for all their povertie, would not cry 
 Quid vultis mihi dare , neither yet received when it was forced. 
 O wold to God, that in places of judgement and justice, and in 
 the harts of all executioners and makers of Law, Epaminondas his 
 opinion were graven : not to be brought from his country with 
 any price, not to be led to do a thing unlawful for any gaine, and 
 what right and vertue did require for vertues sake, freely to do it. 
 Cato Uticensis was of the same minde. Come not into the sacred 
 Senate (for so may I well terme it) with that ragged robe of cove- 
 tous and Bribery; eschew it worse than the infection of pestilence, 
 leave it to brokers, to exchaungers, lay it in the merchants ware- 
 house, bequeath it to the usuring Jewes : for if it catch holde in 
 you, farewel religion, farewel morality, farewel justice, farewel 
 discharge of duty, farewel truth, farewel care of good fame, yea 
 farewel your owne contentemente how gay so ever the matter 
 seemes : If for affection you stretch a string, you cannot be ex- 
 cused, for tho it carry some shew to beare with your friende, yet 
 is it none indede, for your Country is the only marke you must 
 shoote at. As for particulars, they are not incidente to the cause: 
 Aristides (termed the Just) was so precise in the time of hys 
 governement of Athens , that hee avoyded the amity and famili- 
 arity almost of all, bycause he would not be entreated by any to 
 do unjustly. Cleon, when he toke the charge of the common 
 wealth uppon him, called all his friendes, renounced their friend- 
 ships, alledging that amvtie was a stop many times to the right 
 course of Justice: he renounced affection, he cryed out of envy, 
 he detested too well standing in hys own conceite. Another 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F • A. 
 
 97 
 
 way. Sir Thomas An drowes, a worshipfull Knighte of North- 
 amptonshire, was by a yeomanly man his neyghbour thoughte to 
 be sometime too much affectioned to the matter he liked well, to 
 whom he brought a great Brawne : the servaunt letting his 
 maister the knight understand of thys present, retourned him to 
 knowe the givers name, which hearing, he could not call to re- 
 membrance any suche, but forth he comes ; the presenter doth 
 hys errand, prayes his maistership to take in good part this poore 
 pigge, and with very lowe cursey wishes it better. Sir Thomas 
 sawe the Swyne was good with mustarde, accepted the gifte, de-r 
 maunding his neighbour why hee was at that coste with hym, 
 sith he neither knew him, nor ever had done him any pleasure. 
 True it is (quoth he, with a long leg in his hose,) neither will I 
 require you to doe mee any: But I bestowe thys hog on your 
 worship, that you shall do mee no harme. Here is a new kind of 
 Bryberv, which this country man was driven to (as he thought) 
 by the parcial affection he feared in Sir Thomas. The like in 
 effecte fell out betwene an Essex farmer and maister Anthonie 
 Browne in Q. Maries time (a whyle chiefe of the Common pleyes), 
 a man of good spirite and well reade, who having used the helpe 
 of his neighbours towards hys building besides Burnedwood, till 
 they were weary, and denyed further supply : the house must up, 
 my Lords Balife will have carts for love or money, and so he 
 offers largely for both : the tourne is served, my friendes Carters 
 must all dine, out comes the stewarde, willing such as bounded 
 for good will, to come and feed in the parlor, and the mony 
 people to hinde it in the hall : my farmer at the O yes went and 
 walked his stations abroade, and being demanded whether he 
 woulde be a gentleman or a yeoman, he saide neither in this re- 
 spect, for (quoth he) for good will I do it not, for l owe him none, 
 nether for money, for I force not of so much ; hut for fcare, and 
 therefore 1 see no rome for me. I pray you answeare mee, if 
 you had a matter in lawe before any judge in Engl an de, and hee 
 shoulde either by corruption or blindefelde affection wreste a pin 
 againste you and overthrowe you, contrary to justice, woulde you 
 not judge hanging too good for such a coyfe manne, yes assured- 
 ly. Then in the parliament, where you sittc tognakc laws, whorby 
 
9S A DMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A, 
 
 Master Judge himself and all the rest are to be governed, if you 
 be brybed with pelfe, or led by liking of a perticular to beguile 
 your trusters, to bynde and poll innocents, to wrong the righteous, 
 and to set the welfare of your country at nought. If Cambises 
 pluckte the skinne over Sisamnes eares for lewde judgement in 
 particular causes, what fleying and torment is not too good for 
 the corrupt lawmaker, who is supra judicem? If malice and envie 
 shall so reigne in you, as to disgrace the holsome advices of your 
 countrey, you will refuse the matter, bicause you fansie not the 
 man, and cavill without cause, not onely to have the motion re- 
 jected, but also the partie deserving well unsemely to be barked 
 at, not only by your self, but by other pupsies of your own heare, 
 the like detryment as before shall happen to your country. Yea 
 and more infamy if more may be, shall lyghte on you, if it so 
 were that unkindnesse or rather implacable wrath, yea the Nor- 
 thern deadely fude were betwene you and some other : ye ought 
 to come to the Parliament counsell lincked in amity, sounde in 
 fidelity, and perfect in sincerity one with another, and as a teame 
 of horses must draw all togither, so muste you wholly joy ne to 
 your businesse. There are many times unruely Jades, unagreeing 
 and lanching one at another, being out of their gares, but in the 
 carte they fall to as they should, else he that loyters most, or 
 playes too much the gallant, is well lambde for his labor, comes 
 home as weary as the rest, is up in Royles stable, and if he sooner 
 mende not his manners, Maister Miller must have him, who will 
 coole hys courage with halfe a dosen sackes on his backe, and he 
 on the top. The weight shall make him amble and manerly tread, 
 and sooner he shall be laide on for groning, than for kicking : so 
 if malice and displeasure to others shall make you to stomach 
 them abrode, yet in counsel for your country draw together, else 
 will you be ready for the Miller, who will lay harde hande on you, 
 I meane the honest and wise meaning gentleman, not by batting, 
 but by condemning your unruled apetite, and lamenting your 
 mayme. The serpent (for so are all venimous things named) that 
 crepes on the Earth, when for breede sake at the water side he 
 seekes out the Lamprey, hee firste puts forth hys poyson, and as 
 nature hath taught, calles, to whom the Lamprey as willing comes 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 99 
 
 forth : The acte of their kincle performed, she to the floud, he to the 
 earth, taking up againe his venom, returnes, which if perhap hee 
 finde not, present death ensues. Here do you see that of all 
 creatures the vylest and most accursed doth in daunger of hys life 
 put aside the whole substance of the same, by purenesse and 
 cleanenesse to associate hymself with that creature whom he well 
 knowes doth not holde of his mixture, and will rather venture his 
 owne undoing, than hinder that which naturally is appointed. 
 If the Serpent doth thys, following but onely a course by kinde, 
 and is allowed of, how much more is a Parliament man, who by 
 nature, by the commaundement of God, by the profit redownding 
 to hymselfe, the duty to his Prince and country, bounde to vomit 
 up and to bury in the greatest deepes, that consuming and pes- 
 tiferous canker of Malice, by the which so many mischiefes light 
 uppon the Lampreys good soules that thinke no harme. This 
 Serpent is venimous from the beginning, the lacks wherof is his 
 ende. Man by the first fall proceeding by the delusion of the 
 Serpent, is subject to intemperate choler, hate, despite, envy, and 
 many weaknesses more, yet this subjection brings no such neces- 
 sity, the malice is so incorporate in a man, as the poyson in the 
 Serpent, for the one cannot have being without venome, the other 
 most quiet and assured life here without malice and a very good 
 token of a better tourne after his disceasse. What a Jewel love 
 and unity is, dignity doth teach : what overthrowe to states and 
 kingdomes doth hap by devision and discorde, scripture doth no 
 better shewe, than dayly experience continues, this great Monster, 
 thys daungerous consumer, this unrecoverable spoyler, most com- 
 monly takes foote by trifles, is nourished by trifles, growes mad 
 by trifles, and triflingly in the ende brings itselfe to naught, and 
 as many more as it can. As small sparkes kindled in back corners 
 many times spredde to such large flames as the finest buildings 
 and the greatest cities be thereby brought to ashes, so first un- 
 kindnesse conceived of tales, encreased with overweaning of a 
 mans selfe, and made ripe with choler, overthrowes the making 
 of holsome lawes, the due execution of those that be made, brings 
 continual disquietnesse to all that any way be sib to the matter, 
 private slaughters, furious actions, neglected duties, hateful com- 
 
100 
 
 Admonition by the -father of f. a. 
 
 panies, jealous assemblies, civill wanes, ruine to the common 
 welth, and condemnation for the immortal power. Themistocles 
 and Aristides, the rulers of the Athenians state, did often jar, and 
 were but hollow' friends: but when theyjoyned in the service of 
 their country either to field to strike it out, or to Ambassage to 
 reason the businesse, they laide aside their old and usual hart 
 burnings, and at their retourne resumed them again. Phocion 
 for no offence would be displeased with his neighbour Citizen, 
 Livius. Salinator being Consul with Claudius Nero his contrary, 
 sought his friendship, least by their disagreement, the common 
 w elth shoulde receive harme. Cato Uticensis as he most stoutely 
 stoode against all men, yea Caesar himselfe, in the behoofe of the 
 common w r elth, so did he never stur up in minde any unkindnes 
 or injury done to him in perticular. Cretin of Magnesia seing 
 the City in daunger by the comming foreward of Methridates 
 conquests, and doubting more peril to it by the ambition of Her- 
 mias his fellow countryman and his misliker, perceiving that the 
 stomack of one towrn could not disgest tw r o so contrary mates, 
 made him this offer, to choose whether he would defend the tow r n 
 at home, or spend his time abroade ? Hermias left the helme to 
 him, departed the town well furnished by Cretius liberality, who 
 contrary to all expectation holds his owne, wdiere the snarling 
 wyth Hermias woulde have more w r ronged his country than the 
 enemies w eapons. In these persons their love to the state was 
 extraordinary, their deepe considerations rare, and their treading 
 down of affections, a thousande tliousande times to be extolled. 
 The Lacedemonians , bycause they w r ould have their children 
 eschew dronkennesse, they used theyr slaves by overmuche taking 
 in their cuppes to play the hanykin beastes, and then w r ere the 
 youthes broughte to see that so swinishe and unnatural sight, 
 which they coulde not but abhor, and the sooner beare awaye, to 
 avoyde such errors. In like manner, if you will beholde the ma- 
 licious and collericke man in his vaine, all the parts of his body 
 shakes, he is Paraliticus, his colour either is earthly, or very ex- 
 treame crymson, his eyes fyry, his visage wryed unnaturally, his 
 voyce lost and abated, his experience forgotten, and lastlie his 
 sences cleane overthrowne : he presupposeth that his wilfulnes 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 101 
 
 is setlednesse, his threatning, corrage, his cruell disposition, a 
 token of an invincible minde, his scolding, hate of vices, his heate, 
 zeale, that he is temperate and yet Tom-bedlems worse, and in fine 
 judging liimselfe not to wante any vertue, hee wants all : that he 
 is sober, yet berayes himselfe every daye fowler than the beastlie 
 Baccalean : that forsooth hee is a good Maister of fence, and yet 
 well knockt by every boy, and in hys best cunning breakes his 
 foies face with his owne weapon. These persons be of weake 
 natures, voide of learning, deprived of reason, blind in judgement, 
 forsaking remedy, refusing advices, given over to their owne ap- 
 petites, carelesse to loose their friendes, lieedelesse to purchase 
 enimies, ready to strike for every wagging of a strawe, patter they 
 care not what, and so assuredly gracelesse, and not to be accom- 
 panied with. If you would be rid of this infirmity, beholde your 
 selfe in a glasse when these passions come upon you. If you be 
 scratched by the face, you will call to see your hurt, to viewe your 
 malicious collericke minde, which will appeare in your visage with 
 greater disgrace than tearings to the bone : will you sende for 
 Galen, if he were alive to helpe your head ake ? will you entreate 
 the Marchaunt from the Mollucce to bring you spice, to comfort 
 yourr disgestion, and will you not putte to the sea, sende your 
 factours, yea go your selfe to Anticera, out of that friendly He to 
 bring home the hole bottomes full of that beneficial herbe Hel- 
 leborus to mollify your malice, to banishe your coller, and to 
 make you forsweare your fury, stick not to bestowe some pence 
 upon the confection Nepenthes , which will ease this want. Chil- 
 dren and fooles, and some weake women growe in frensies when 
 they may not have theyr owne wills : the child saith, give me 
 some of dat, or I will tell my mother : the foole if you please not 
 him, he will bite his owne flesh and see who shall have the worste: 
 the good wife, if hir trinckets be forgotten, she puts the finger in 
 the eye, bytes the lip, and perhaps sweares knave, and all for 
 lacke of a ladle or such like. Let the furious envious man at his 
 home-comming revolve his actions, and he shall perceive not all 
 well, unlesse he will perforce be blinde: If he have shamed him- 
 selfe, and injured his better, what helpe ? how can this be salved ? 
 with crying Peccavi c ! that goes harde in a Parliament house, in 
 
 p 
 
102 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 secrete so to say will not serve, for that the partie wronged hath 
 no full recompence. Beholde some of our ordinary creatures, and 
 you shall see such implacable disposition in them, as shew greatly 
 the collerick man. The Backe being in hand, will not leave 
 byting hir selfe : the Badger kepte perforce from his usual liber- 
 tie, makes no spare of his owne flesh : and master Jacke Dawe 
 (a daylie acquaintaunce of our poore men that dwell in thatched 
 houses) will rather dye for pevishnesse, than take bread at their 
 bands who willingly give it. Such a bug beast was Stesiphon, 
 who would bite his Moyle by the eare for stumbling and kicking, 
 Moyle it wyth his heeles at the poore Asse. I once knew a gentle- 
 man at Boules, who not liking of his fortune, made a quarrell to 
 his Boule, fynding faulte therewith, ofte throwing it againste the 
 pales in great choller, by chaunce or what I know not, at laste it 
 rebounded against hys shynnes, and welfavoredly brake them 
 both, wherwyth the Dagger comes out to revenge this mischaunce 
 on this poore peece of wood, and snapping thereuppon, the Scot- 
 tishe blade was snapt in peeces : O dirum f acinus et quovis anima 
 creduli dignum. Alexander that glorious Conqueror and great 
 Monarche, endued with so many good partes and gifts of nature, 
 never touched his honor, but by this filthy choller and fury, 
 whyche hee being possessed wyth, most unadvisedly slewe his 
 faithful and well advised follower Clito, brother to Hellanice, nurse 
 or rather mother to Alexander, as hymself accompted, who had at 
 the journey of Granico saved his lyfe from the blouddy fistes of 
 Spithridate. And Phesas played the tirant upon Calisthenes , 
 most cruelly mured up with a Lion that odde Macedonian leader 
 Lisimachus. The lettes that Olimpias his mother conceived 
 against Antipater the Lieuetenante of all Macedony in hys ab- 
 sence, hir continual complaints to hir sonne of him, made Alex- 
 ander first loose a good servaunt, and after his owne life. Cam - 
 bises that frantike king of Persia , by fury and light taking of 
 displeasure, slewe his owne brother Smerdis , killed and repudiated 
 his wife Atossa , for condemning the Acte, and upon a time putting 
 a lyon and a dogge together to prove maisteries, the dogge put to 
 the worse, an other of the same litter taking parte to helpe, at 
 which siglite his other wife Meroa ruing the death of Smerdis, 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 103 
 
 who founde no succor or ayde, at the last he commaunded to be 
 dispatched. Presastes his sounde and assured at all assaies, upon 
 his owne demaunde, for councelling some abstinence from his 
 dayly carowsing (a thing misliked among the Persians ) led with 
 fury, forgetting all reputation that the duety to him had well de- 
 served, and so much of justice as is lamentable, playde Will 
 Sommer , stroke hym (as it were) that was nexte, tooke the sonne 
 of Presastes, clave his harte with a speare for dispite before his 
 fathers face, caused it to be plucked out, and shewed how right 
 he could hit for all his cups. Sophias the Emprises pevish minde 
 and malice did hardly rewarde that famous and fortunate defender 
 of the Empire Narses , to the great detrymente of the same : and 
 manye more but for spence of time, might be rehearsed, whose 
 sodaine choller, fury, and untemperate rage, hath caused full oft 
 to be wise after, and repente their blindfolde executions. Did not 
 Xerxes that mighty king of Persia in an other manner of distem- 
 perature, for the effecte of his doings, shewe himselfe a tall gentle- 
 man, at his coming downe upon Grecia with an unusual army 
 for the greatnesse of the multitude, and understanding Mardonius 
 his forgoing Captaine had loste many of his people at the moun- 
 tayne Athos in Thracia by meanes of the Streightes and perillous 
 passage thereof : he writes his threatning Letters to the Roeke, 
 that he will hewe it in peeces, bury it in the sea, make an Ilande 
 of it (which with an inestimable charge hee did) if he suffred no 
 better passage to the Persians. Himself comming to the sea at 
 Hellespont , commaunded a bridge to be made to passe him and 
 his company over, which overthrowne by Tempest, some of the 
 workemen hee hangs, some other hee cuttes their noses off, some 
 other puttes their eyen out : hee makes the sea to be can vast with 
 cudgels, he throwes fetters and gyves into it, to imprison the wa- 
 ters. What lamentable follie is here, that Xerxes shewes, whiche 
 unadvised choller brings hym to, and makes hym followe so soone 
 with rooted and implacable malice, on such who receive no detri- 
 ment therby, but himselfe divers wayes greatly harmed. Be it, 
 that injury be oflfred you wrongfully and unworthy, by odyous 
 speeches, or unseemely actes, remember Philip of Macedotie, of 
 whom Arcadian did nothing but rayle and lye, and that openlye 
 
104 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 alwayes, and in all places. It so hapned thnt this Squire was 
 met with in Philips country by the kings servauntes, who advised 
 sharpe paymente for his paines : that would not be heard, hut 
 Philip sent presents to his lodging and gently dismissed him. 
 After, demaunding of Arcadians behavior, it was retourned, that 
 none bestirres himselfe so much in his commendations now as he. 
 Thus may you see (quoth Philip) what a Physition I am : It was 
 tolde him howe the Gretians murmured hardly against him, and 
 was moved by some to revenge the wrong: No (quod he) then 
 will they in deed fourd me bad inough, for if I had ever hurt 
 them, what shall I presuppose they would say. Socrates patience 
 every body knowes, who among other parts of the same, having 
 once drawn his weapon over his servantes head to strike, staying, 
 remembred he was a Philosopher, and in furie, and therfore helde 
 his hand. Pericles , that noble Athenian being most opprobriouslv 
 skolded at in the streates, at the heeles folowed to his own dores 
 by a lewde person, bare it as belonged to so worthye a gentleman, 
 and commaunded his man with torche lighte to bring this gentle 
 guest home. Telecleius king of Lacedemonia answered a brother of 
 his very well, who founde himselfe grieved that the Citizens of 
 Sparta delte hardlyer and lesse dutyfully towards him, than to 
 Telecleius : quoth bee, you misconceive the matter, for you cannot 
 beare any small injury. Antigonus being to his teeth tolde of his 
 unseemely shape and laught at, coldely replied, that then he w as 
 much beguilde, for he toke himselfe to be a proper fellow. One 
 shewed Diogenes, varlets that mocked him, and I, quoth he, find 
 not myself mockt. King Archelaus , having w r ater pow T red on his 
 head, satisfied those that woulde have him punish the doer, that 
 the partie threw T e it not uppon him, but on one he toke him for. 
 Divers Philosophers woulde not chastise when they were angry. 
 
 But to come to our owne time as it were. Let me not trouble 
 you w r ith too long a rable of those pacient people, but make an 
 ende with two notorious examples, the one of a late great and 
 worthy Emperour Charles the fifte, knowne to many in England 
 nowe living : The other, of a poore Frier Gentleman our countrey- 
 manne Dan Peto , well kende to many in Queene Maries tyme. 
 The Emperor ly ing before Lander sy, where he had certain English 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 105 
 
 souldiers in his ayde, in his greatest glory amidst his owne and 
 waged straungers, a Spaniarde so layd at him, as no more mar- 
 velled at the lewdenesse of the person (whose country yeeldes 
 obedient and patient men to the magistrate and no lavishmouthed 
 whelps w r ith such furious extremity) than at the mildnesse and 
 curtious answere of so mighty a prince. The Spaniarde hightes 
 him the sonne of a w hore, a Bougger, a Marano, the most odious 
 name with that nation, and as many more, as eyther Ruffian or 
 Rogue can devise. Charles lokes at him, saying, Habla Cortes- 
 ment saldado , wythout any further sturre. Father Peto I meane 
 for age of whom I might also well thynke, but that hys Friers 
 w T eede who purchased hym a king Henry knock e, stayes me for 
 saying too well of hym : yet his patience and answere, shew ed 
 him no ordynary Franciscane, but a well meaning Fryer, if any 
 of that Courte can so do; at the olde sw r an beside London Bridge, 
 w T ith two or three wyth him, the olde fellowe takes boate to the 
 Courte at White Hal, which newe launched from the shoare, one 
 from land sendes hym a brickbatte, and therewith such a palte on 
 the brest, that downe fell the feble Frier halfe dead : some of hys 
 company bussling to the steare to reprehende this lew r de or lau- 
 dable doer (take hym as you will) Peto stayde, saying, the stone 
 was not cast at hym, but at his graye robe, for (quoth he) if the 
 party knewe me, he would have staide his hande. Jf such cha- 
 ritable forbearing be commendable where men are so hardely 
 delte with, how much then is to be condemned, that yrc and 
 choller, which as I sayd, kindled of nothing, growes of that moste 
 pestilent plague of envy and malice. Follow the sound doing of 
 him who is wary what speeches he uses, and glories in sufferaunce, 
 and not that fether headed fellow, who braves in his furious and 
 chollerike w r ords, and loves himselfe the worse when lie bears 
 any thing. Plutarch gave good couneel to Traian the Emperour, 
 willing pacience in all occurents, mildenesse in actions, and to 
 forbeare the hasty witlcsse Braynes. If by your speeches in the 
 Parliament you seke vaine glorye by far fetched eloquence and 
 nedelesse phrases, delating the matter to shew the ripenesse of 
 your judgement more than directly to go to the cause and make 
 it understood, you may well shewe some great florisb of great 
 
106 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 substance, which in the end will be found but froath, and all the 
 sturre but fill mens eares full of dynne, who will finde that the 
 stuffe smelles of the Candel, and deeme you had bin better oc- 
 cvpyed to have spente a Torche in travelling to learne the nature 
 of the lawe you woulde speake of, than a candels ende in study to 
 play the Charlatane, to put your selfe to sale. The olde, grave, 
 wyse and well experienced Parliament man, if he discourse of any 
 cause, if he shewe hys opynion, if hee laye before you what his 
 long yeares hath taughte hym, he playes not, as the Hob of 
 Hornechurche, who having never sene London before, nor Lon- 
 don seene hym, in hys Christmas sute sente to Bartholmewe faire, 
 entering at White Chappel, buyes nothing but gaping seede, per- 
 suaded that as he is delighted to gaze, so others omitte not to 
 loke on hym, wherby it is night ere hee commeth to Aldegate, 
 and so as wise as Waltons Calfe, is fayne to retorne home more 
 foole than he came, for spending of horseme&te. And why for- 
 sooth ? bycause he hath bin so long in the suburbes, as he lost his 
 market in the Citye. This man I see makes not a millers thumbe 
 of his Oration, whose heade is bigger than all the body, unpro- 
 portionable, neither yet without hed and all tayle, neither tike 
 fashion all belly, but as muche of every one as is needeful. Eng- 
 lish man like, hee uses good woordes, the matter well declares his 
 sounde meaning, hys countenaunce shewes the inwarde manne, 
 the welding of hys body tells me he hath bin trayned in other 
 places than Horne Church. He is as well contented to heare as 
 to speake. He confers patiently, wyth modesty, he yeeldes to 
 reason, loves himselfe not the worse if hys Arguments be con- 
 futed, nor envies him whose reason is better allowed of, but em- 
 braces the manne greatly for himselfe. If his advise carry the 
 house, he prowdes not, but rejoy ces hys country takes good, and 
 the house reputation : he doth not wyth fleering taunting words, 
 nor importunate yelling, snatch at hys contraries, nor desire their 
 wantes to be seene, but fellowe counsellor like, layes some reasons 
 before them, famyliarly confers with them, and friendlye manye 
 times beares with the collerick and unseemly speeches which men 
 too well deeming of themselves too often utter without cause. 
 If he play Alexanders part, by being a man, as errare , labi, et 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 107 
 
 decipi hominis est , if hee kyll Clito wrongfully, if he treade amisse, 
 he shameleslye beares it not off wyth head and shoulders, he re- 
 pentes virginlike his errour, and doth not Pickepursse fashion 
 face out a lye; till just mends be made, he bewailes his mishap, 
 (as Alexander did most noblie in that hys action), he conceives no 
 priviledge by being in Parliament to injure any man with oppro- 
 brious tauntes, a lamentable fault in such men : he playes not the 
 parte, whiche once an auncient gentleman and grave counceller 
 tolde me he had seene some doe, which was, so intemperatly, 
 rudely, rashly, and malitiously to use some in that place, as he 
 assured hymselfe he thought they durst not doe in an Ale-house, 
 for feare of a knock with a pot. There are some who alwayes 
 love to heare themselves talke, and thinke their smokye forced 
 eloquence, sweete perfume and pleasante melody to mens eares. 
 They whip it, they lay on load, tho sometime and for the most 
 parte they want learning : their Accentes are heeded, the Paren- 
 theses perfourmed, Allegories not forgotten, olde stories brought 
 in, sackfuls of auncient sentences, and after the Spanish Fryers 
 manner, they more harme the pulpit with knocking thereon, than 
 benefit the audience, more disquiet themselves by broyling in 
 theyr wollen weedes, than move the hearers with matter of sub- 
 stance, and finally, haue so great care of gay wordes, picked 
 speeches and phrases, ordering of their voyces (and as I may say), 
 traversing their grounde, as they so muche forget their matter, 
 that as they never know what they have sayde : so parts their 
 churche Auditours as well taughte as my Lord Maiors horse when 
 his good Lord is at the Sermon at the Crosse. Stratocles and 
 Democlides were Oratours at Athens , yet so may I not well terme 
 them, but rather Italian triacle sellers, who never were but prat- 
 ing to the people, not to profit the common wealth, but to fill 
 their owne purses by theyr Lampe studied ware, rather to delight 
 than to do good, in so muche as they used betwene themselves 
 in mockery, to aske whether they shoulde goe to their golde har- 
 vest. These men who carry their harts in their tongue, and not 
 their tongues in their hartes, these womens children Oratours, 
 these goselings talkers, should be delte withal, as a very friende 
 of yours and mine Maister Nicholas Beamonde (whose honest 
 
108 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 gentlemanlye myrth yet remaynes) dealt with a man of good 
 countenance of Leistershire in his owne house : The tale is some- 
 what homely, but no homelier than well done, and so well, as tho 
 it were much homelier, it were the homelyest parte of all to leave 
 it forgotten. A company of good fellow gentlemen, being at 
 bourde with this housekeeper, with whome Maister Beamonde 
 made one, the goodman of the house had all the talke, when the 
 cuppes were well gone about the bourde, others would have also 
 had some wordes, but it would not be. When mine hoaste had 
 wearied all the company, and himselfe very well contented wyth 
 the liarmonie of his owne fiddle, which still he was doing with, 
 Maister Beamond, who as you know is not amisse made for the 
 purpose, let goe a rouncing poupe, which base was hearde above 
 the counter-tenor, or past meane of the wearysom melodie, not 
 only of the assistants, but of the Musitian, who demaunding what 
 the matter was, master Nicholas answered, he craved leave for a 
 word that way, for otherwise he could get none. Whether it 
 were well done or no, I can not tell, but I am sure it did and hath 
 moved good laughter, and perhaps done no harme to some greate 
 talkers that heare the same, I would to God these talkative folke 
 would but thinke how little good they do, what great paines they 
 take, how they werv themselves and others, how men smvle at 
 their follies and they see it not, sure they are alwayes of the wise 
 used, as Aristotle used one, who with a long proces de Lana Ca- 
 prina had pattred unto him, in the ende, quoth he, Sir I have 
 thus troubled you with my speeche, not a whit (quoth Aristotle) 
 for I toke no heede to any word you spake. Demosthenes was 
 an odde Orator of hys time, as his Orations nowe extante do very 
 well witnesse, and would you not thinke that he that found fault 
 with them for length, wente aboute to finde a knot in a rush, and 
 yet Phocion was prefered before him, whose workes (more the 
 pity) we have not, for his short, compendious, substanciall, and 
 sounde speech. If Demosthenes be long, who is short, to speake 
 of our common talkers ? Againe, there are divers other very 
 grave, wise, learned, and perfect deeming men, who never or very 
 seldome speake in parliament, of which some I have knowen my- 
 selfe and lamented their dumbnesse, by cause their speeches I am 
 
ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 109 
 
 assured most plentifully would profit our common welth. The 
 men I honor for themselves, but more for the good parts in them, 
 which sith God hath so liberally bestowed, I woulde beseech them 
 and all others able to speake, not to put their lights under a 
 Bushel. Pithagoras made a lawe, that the tong tyed man who 
 could not speake, should be driven out of the state : and then 
 (with reverence I write it) what blame are they worthy to have, 
 who can, and will not, and in that place where most neede is 
 where by their uttrance most fruite may be gathered (and their 
 ability most able to performe it). As no man can commend a 
 yong experienced man who shall put foorthe himselfe in counsel 
 to shewe his opinion before the aunciente and yeare beaten fathers, 
 so what good minde will not grieve to see the studied Doctours 
 still, and the Children dispute in matters of great weight : both 
 doth well. Do not mistruste your own ability, as Theophrastus 
 did, w ho taking upon him to play the Oratour, when he came to 
 it, could not utter any one word. You speake among your coun- 
 trymen, you speake for your countries advauncement, and like a 
 Countryman of the wisest you shall be accepted. Although hap- 
 pily all things should not fall out so point devise as either you 
 wish or others loke for. Isocrates that famous Oratours childishe 
 timerousnesse who can alio we of, who in Condone never durste 
 open his lippes ? As this maidenly bashfulnesse is to be dis waded, 
 so againe Cicero the Dad of the Romayne eloquence, his careful 
 heade is to be followed, who with a warely feare entred Orations. 
 The erst named Pericles, unwilling spake publikly, yet never 
 ommitted his furtherance where it coulde profitte his Country. 
 Wherfore as dainty regarde of speech is to bee imbraced, so dum- 
 nesse according to Pithagoras is utterly to be bannished. If you 
 w ill not speake, dare not, or cannot, let another have place. Eng- 
 land is no graunge, it can sufficientlye supply Parliament men. 
 Thus (as you see) have I tumbled my tubbe, and found myselfe 
 occupied to lay before you with good meaning (whereout I truste 
 you may reape some profit) the notes minded in my passed yeares, 
 and now for this present called to remembrance. I beseech God 
 you and all of this counsel of Parliament both now and alwayes 
 hereafter, in all causes and at all times may be lincked in one 
 
 9 
 
110 
 
 ADMONITION BY THE FATHER OF F. A. 
 
 concorde, friendship, and amytie, imbracing and respecting the 
 wealth and estate of your Countrey, that experience, learning, 
 and wisedome abounde in you, that your heartes be of flynte, not 
 of waxe, wherin threats may not enter, fayre words have working, 
 nor briberie leave print, private affections to bee quite banished, 
 malice and furie utterly forsworn, selfe lyking detested, vaine bab- 
 lative speeches cryed aut of, needful words and tymes observed 
 and tended, and finally, your trust (as becomes your lykes) dis- 
 charged, wherby religion shall be stablished and maynteyned, the 
 Prince strengthned and assured, the Nobilitie honored and en- 
 creased, the meaner sorte merely e enjoy their labour with duetifull 
 mindes to serve wyth body and pursse their country and king, and 
 with acknowledging due honour to their Peeres, which will 
 make not only the present age, but our posteritie con- 
 tinually to sing Te deum and Hosanna in ex- 
 celsis for the pleasaunt and adamant state 
 which England dwellers may justly 
 vaunt of, which to graunt and 
 continue in seculum seen - 
 lorum , God sende. 
 
 Amen. 
 
 FINIS. 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ' 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
THE 
 
 CHRISTMAS PRINCE 
 
 IN 1607- 
 
AN ACCOUNT 
 
 OF 
 
 %\ )t Christmas prince, 
 
 AS IT WAS EXHIBITED IN 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, 
 
 IN THE YEAR 1607. 
 
 NOW FIRST PUBLISHED FROM THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY T. BENSLEY AND SON, 
 
 Bolt Court, Fleet Street ; 
 
 FOR ROBERT TRIPHOOK, 23 , OLD BOND STREET. 
 
 MDCCCXVl. 
 

 
 . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
TO 
 
 THE PRESIDENT, FELLOWS, 
 
 AND 
 
 SCHOLARS 
 
 OF 
 
 ST. JOHN BAPTIST COLLEGE, 
 
 IN THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, 
 
 ns Curious llecorO 
 
 OF 
 
 AN ANCIENT CUSTOM IN THEIR SOCIETY, 
 IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, 
 
 BV 
 
 THE PUBLISHER. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The history and antiquities of a country are never better illus- 
 trated than by a view of its early manners and customs, and in 
 this investigation the sports of the populace, and the recreations 
 of those in a higher situation in life, afford, perhaps, the best and 
 most certain means of information. Thus, from the religious 
 spectacles of our earlier ancestors, and from the dramatic repre- 
 sentations of such as have more immediately preceded us, we 
 obtain a pretty accurate idea of their general feelings and accus- 
 tomed behaviour. 
 
 From a consideration that any document which might assist 
 in this illustration would not be looked on as useless or uninterest- 
 ing, the publisher has been induced to offer to his readers the fol 
 lowing account of a Christmas Prince, as it was performed in 
 Saint John’s College, in the University of Oxford, in 1 607. Of its 
 authenticity no doubt can possibly exist; it was written by an eye- 
 witness of, and performer in, the sports ; and is now printed, for 
 the first time, from the original manuscript preserved in the Col- 
 lege Library. 
 
 There can be little difficulty in assigning the origin of The 
 Christmas Prince to a custom of high antiquity and general 
 usage— This was the feast of the Boy Bishop, as it was called, a 
 ceremony which was celebrated with great splendor on the feast 
 of St. Nicholas, or the Holy Innocents. On this occasion it was 
 customary, in all cathedral churches, (and probably in most large 
 and opulent parishes,) for some one of the children of the choir to 
 bear ihe title and state of a bishop, to wear the episcopal robes, 
 and to exact obedience from bis companions, who were habited 
 like priests : — nay, singular as it may appear, they took posses- 
 sion of the church ; and, except mass, performed all the ceremo- 
 
Vlll 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 nies and offices of religion. In Brand’s “ Observations on Po- 
 pular Antiquities,” as well as in the “ Posthuma” of the learned 
 John Gregory, printed in 1650, various authorities are quoted, and 
 many extracts given, which prove the antiquity of this custom; 
 and Warton, in the u History of English Poetry,” conceives that 
 traces of this religious mockery may be discovered as far back as 
 the Constantinopolitan Synod in the year 867. Be this as it may, 
 it is certain that the ceremony prevailed in England in the reign 
 of Edward the First, as that Prince, on his way to Scotland, in the 
 year 1299, permitted one of these boy-bishops to say vespers 
 before him in his chapel at Heton, near Newcastle-upon-Tyne, 
 and made a present to the performers of forty shillings, no incon- 
 siderable sum in those days. (Wardrobe Account, 28 Ed. I. in 
 the “ Archaeologia.”) 
 
 The ceremonial of the Boy-bishop was put down by Henry 
 the Eighth in 1542, by a proclamation setting forth, that — 
 “ whereas heretofore dyvers and many superstitious and chyldysh 
 observauncis have be used, and yet to this day are observed and 
 kept, in many and sundry partes of this realm, as upon Saint 
 Nicholas, the Holie Innocents, and such like; children be 
 strangelie decked and apparayled to counterfeit priests, bishops 
 and women, and to be ledde with songes and dances from house 
 to house, blessing the people and gathering of money; and boyes 
 do singe masse and preache in the pulpitt, with such other un- 
 fittinge and inconvenient usages, rather to the derysyon than anie 
 true glory of God, or honour of his Sayntes : the Kynge’s Ma- 
 jestie wylleth and commaundeth that henceforth all such super- 
 stitious observations be left and clerely extinguished throwout all 
 this realme and dominions,” &c. Although the custom was re- 
 vived by queen Mary at the restoration of the Catholick religion, 
 it was, of course, again put aside when Elizabeth succeeded to 
 the crown, and from that time is no longer heard of. 
 
 From the Boy Bishop the Christmas Prince may then be 
 supposed to derive his origin. Whilst the former was bearing 
 sway in the ecclesiastical foundations, the latter was elected to 
 celebrate the festivities of Christmas in the King’s palace, at the 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 IX 
 
 seats of the nobility, at the universities, and in the Inns of court. 
 “ In the Feast of Christmas, (says Stow in his u Survey of London,”) 
 there was in the King's house, wheresoever he lodged, a lord of 
 misrule, or master of merry disports, and the like had ye in the 
 house of every nobleman of honour or good worship, were he spi- 
 ritual or temporal.” The custom prevailed till the ascendancy of 
 the puritans during the civil war; and some idea of the expense, 
 and general support it received, may be formed from the account 
 of the Gray’s Inn Prince (which will be noticed presently), and an 
 extract from one of the Strafford Papers. The latter is from a 
 letter written by the Rev. G. Garrard to the Earl of Stratford, 
 dated Jan. 8, 1635. 
 
 “ The Middle Temple House have set up a prince, who car- 
 ries himself in great state; one Mr. Vivian a Cornish gentleman, 
 whose father Sir Francis Vivian was fined in the star-chamber 
 about a castle he held in Cornwall, about three years since. He 
 hath all his great officers attending him, lord keeper, lord trea- 
 surer, eight white staves at the least, captain of his pensioners, 
 captain of his guard, two chaplains, who on Sunday last preached 
 before him, and in the pulpit made three low legs to his excel- 
 lency before they began, which is much laughed at. My lord 
 chamberlain lent him two fair cloths of state, one hung up in the 
 hall under which he dines, the other in his privy chamber ; he is 
 served on the knee, and all that come to see him kiss his hand on 
 their knee. My lord of Salisbury hath sent him pole-axes for his 
 pensioners. He sent to my lord of Holland, his justice in Eyre, 
 for venison, which he willingly sends him ; to the lord mayor and 
 sheriffs of London for wine, all obey. Twelfth-Day was a great 
 day, going to the chapel many petitions were delivered him, which 
 he gave to his masters of the requests. He hath a favourite, whom 
 with some others, gentlemen of great quality, he knighted at his 
 return from church, and dined in great state; at the going out of 
 the chambers into the garden, when he drank the King’s health, 
 the glass being at his mouth he let it fall, which much defaced 
 his purple satten suit, for so he was clothed that day, having a 
 cloke of the same down to his foot, for he mourns for his father 
 
 b 
 
X 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 who lately died. It costs this prince 2000/. out of his own purse, 
 I hear of no other design, but that all this is done to make them 
 fit to give the prince elector, a royal entertainment with masks, 
 dancings, and some other exercises of wit, in orations or arraign- 
 ments, that day that they invite him.” 
 
 The writer, or narrator, of the events connected with the 
 Christmas Prince of St. John's was Griffin Higgs, who was de- 
 scended of a respectable and opulent family in Gloucestershire, 
 though he was himself born at Stoke Abbat, near Henley on 
 Thames, in 1589- He was educated at St. John’s, and thence, 
 in l6ll, elected fellow of Merton college, where he distinguished 
 himself, in the execution of the procuratorial duties, as a man of 
 great courage, though, says Wood, of little stature. In 1627 
 he was appointed chaplain to the Queen of Bohemia, by her 
 brother Charles the First, and during his absence, in the per- 
 formance of his duties, was created a doctor of divinity at Ley- 
 den by the learned Andrew Rivet. He returned, after a residence 
 abroad of about twelve years, wffien he had the valuable rectory 
 of Clive or Cliff, near Dover, and shortly after the deanery of 
 Lichfield, conferred upon him. During the civil wars he was a 
 sufferer for the royal cause, and, losing his preferment, retired to 
 the place of his birth, where he died in the year 1659, and was 
 buried in the chancel of the church of South Stoke. 
 
 Thomas Tucker, the elected Prince, w as born in London in 
 1586, entered at St. John’s in 1601, became fellow of that house, 
 and took holy orders. He afterwards had the vicarage of Pip- 
 ping-burge, or Pemberge, in Kent, and the rectory of Portshead, 
 near Bristol, and finally obtained the third stall in the cathedral 
 church of Bristol, in which he w as succeeded, August 25, 1 660, 
 by Richard Standfast. 
 
 Of the other performers it would be easy to give some ac- 
 count, but the limits of the present tract deny it. Of the con- 
 tributors towards the expense, it may be sufficient to say that they 
 w ere not persons of inferior rank or consideration. Sir William 
 Paddy was the favourite physician of our first James; and the 
 Mr. Laud, as he is termed in the list of subscribers, was no less a 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 XI 
 
 personage than the noble minded, yet unfortunate, archbishop of 
 Canterbury. 
 
 It only remains to explain the apparently strange titles of the 
 Prince of St. John’s : 
 
 “ The most magnificent and renowned Thomas, by the favour 
 of Fortune, Prince of Alba Fortunata, Lord St.Johns, high Re- 
 gent of the Hall, Duke of St. Giles, Marquis of Magdalens, 
 Landgrave of the Grove, County Palatine of the Cloisters, Chief 
 Bailiff of the Beaumonts, High Ruler of Rome, Master of the 
 Manor of Waltham, Governour of Gloucester Green, Sole Com- 
 mander of all Tilts,” &c. The prince of Alba Fortunata alludes, 
 as may be readily conjectured, to the name of the founder, Sir 
 Thomas White ; St. John’s, and the Hall, are equally clear; Mag- 
 dalens is the parish in which a portion of the college stands, and 
 a part of which belongs to the society; the Grove and the Cloisters 
 are again parts of the home domain of the college; Beaumonts is 
 the name of a portion of land belonging to the college, on which 
 stands the ruin of the palace of Beaumonts, built about the year 
 1128 by King Henry the First; Rome is a piece of land so called, 
 near to the end of the walk called Non Ultra, on the North side of 
 Oxford. The manor of Waltham, or Walton, is situate in the 
 North suburb of Oxford, and is the property of the college, as is 
 a considerable portion of Gloucester- green, which though now 
 better known as the site of an extensive bridewell, was in 1607 
 literally a meadow, and without any building more contiguous 
 than Gloucester- hall, from which house it derived its name. 
 
 The only publication of a similar nature to the present is that 
 of the Christinas Prince of Grays Inn, in 1594, which was printed 
 in 1688, under the following title: 
 
 “ Gesta Grayorum : or the History of the High and mighty 
 Prince, Henry Prince of Purpoole, Arch-Duke of Stapulia and 
 Bernardia, Duke of High and Nether Holborn, Marquis of St. 
 
Xll 
 
 " ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Giles and Tottenham, Count Palatine of Bloomsbury and Clerk- 
 enwell, Great Lord of the Cantons of Islington, Kentish-Town, 
 Paddington, and Knights-bridge, Knight of the most Heroical Or- 
 der of the Helmet, and Sovereign of the same ; Who Reigned and 
 Died, A. D. 1594 . Together with a Masque, as it was presented 
 (by his Highness's Command) for the Entertainment of Q. Eliza- 
 beth; who, with the Nobles of both Courts, was present thereat. 
 London, Printed for W. Canning, at his Shop in the Temple- 
 Cloysters, MDCLXXXVIII. Price one shilling." 4to. nine 
 sheets, dedicated “ To the most honourable Matthew Smyth, Esq. 
 comptroller of the honourable society of the Inner Temple." 
 
 The prince of Purpoole was Mr. Henry Helmes, a Norfolk 
 gentleman, “ who was thought to be accomplished with all good 
 parts, fit for so great a dignity; and was also a very proper man 
 of personage, and very active in dancing and revelling." His 
 coffers, like those of the St. John’s prince, were filled by voluntary 
 contributors, amongst whom the lord treasurer, Sir William Cecil, 
 sent him ten pounds, and a purse of rich needlework. 
 
 It would be too tedious to recount all the proceedings of this 
 festive court, which, speaking impartially, are exceeded in interest 
 by the narrative that follows of their successors in Oxford. The 
 performers were however highly applauded by Queen Elizabeth, 
 who expressed her satisfaction in a way peculiar to herself. 
 When the actors had performed their masque, some of her ma- 
 jesties courtiers danced a measure, upon which the queen cried 
 out “ What ! shall we have bread and cheese after a banquet ?" 
 Finally the prince and his officers of state were honoured by 
 kissing her fair hands, and receiving the most flattering commen- 
 dations. The whole amusement terminated in fighting at barriers ; 
 the Earl of Essex, and others, challengers; the Earl of Cumberland 
 and company defendants, “ into which number (says the narrator) 
 our prince was taken, and behaved himself so valiantly and skilfully 
 therein, that he had the prize adjudged due unto him, which it 
 pleased her majesty to deliver him with her own hands ; telling him, 
 that it was not her gift, for if it had, it should have been better; but 
 she gave it to him, as that prize which was due to his desert, and 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Xlll 
 
 good behaviour in those exercises ; and that hereafter he should 
 be remembered with a better reward from herself. The prize was 
 a jewel, set with seventeen diamonds and four rubies ; in value 
 accounted worth a hundred marks.” * 
 
 * It may not be amiss to give the Gray’s Inn list of performers, which cor- 
 responds in a great measure with that in the St. John’s Prince. It will be re- 
 marked, that some few were afterwards distinguished members in the law. 
 
 [[From Gesta Gray or urn y page 6.] 
 
 “ The order of the Prince of Purpoole’s proceedings, with his officers and 
 attendants at his honourable inthronization ; which was likewise observed in all 
 his solemn marches on grand days, and like occasions ; which place every officer 
 did duly attend, during the reign of his highness’s government. 
 
 A Marshal. 
 Trumpets. 
 
 Pursuevant at Arms, 
 
 Towns-men in the Princes Livery, 
 with Halberts. 
 
 { 
 
 l 
 
 A Marshal. 
 Trumpets. 
 
 Lanye. 
 
 Yeomen of the Guard, 
 three Couples. 
 
 Captain of the Guard, - 
 Baron of the Grand Port, 
 
 Baron of the Base Port, - 
 
 Gentlemen for Entertainment, three Couples, 
 Baron of the Petty Port, 
 
 Baron of the New Port, - 
 
 Gentlemen for entertainment, three couples. 
 Lieutenant of the Pensioners, 
 
 Grimes. 
 
 - Dudley. 
 Grante. 
 
 - Binge , &c. 
 Williams. 
 
 - Lovel.. 
 
 C Wentworth , 
 " \ Zukenden , 
 ^ Forrest. 
 Tonstal. 
 
 Gentlemen Pensioners, twelve couples, 
 
 Lawson. 
 
 Devereux. 
 
 Stapleton. 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 Rotts. 
 
 Anderson. 
 
 Glascott. 
 
 Elken. 
 
 Davison , 
 cum rcliquis. 
 
 Chief Ranger and Master of the Game, 
 Master of the Revels, 
 
 Master of the Revellers, 
 
 Captain of the Pensioners, 
 
 Sewer, - 
 
 Carver, - 
 
 - Forrest. 
 
 - Lambert. 
 
 - Tcvtry. 
 Cooke. 
 
 - Archer. 
 
 - Moseley. 
 
XIV 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Another Sewer, ------ 
 
 - 
 
 Dr aery. 
 
 Cup-bearer, ----- 
 
 - 
 
 Painter. 
 
 Groom- porter, - 
 
 - 
 
 Bennet. 
 
 Sheriff, - - 
 
 - 
 
 Leach. 
 
 Clerk of the Council, - 
 
 - 
 
 Jones. 
 
 Clerk of the Parliament, 
 
 
 
 Clerk of the Crown, - 
 
 - 
 
 Downes. 
 
 Orator, - 
 
 - 
 
 Heke. 
 
 Recorder, - 
 
 - 
 
 Starkey. 
 
 Sollicitor, - 
 
 - 
 
 Dunne. 
 
 Serjeant, - 
 
 - 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 Speaker of the Parliament, - - 
 
 - 
 
 Bellen. 
 
 Commissary, - - 
 
 - 
 
 Greenwood. 
 
 Attorney, - 
 
 - 
 
 Holt . 
 
 Serjeant, - - 
 
 - 
 
 Hitchcombe. 
 
 Master of the Requests, - - 
 
 - 
 
 Faldo. 
 
 Chancellor of the Exchequer, - 
 
 - 
 
 Kitts. 
 
 Master of the Wards and Idiots, - 
 
 - 
 
 Ellis. 
 
 Reader, - - - - - 
 
 - 
 
 Cobb. 
 
 Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer, 
 
 - 
 
 Briggs. 
 
 Master of the Rolls, - 
 
 - 
 
 Hetlen. 
 
 Lord Chief Baron of the Common Pleas, 
 
 . 
 
 Damporte. 
 
 Lord Chief Justice of the Prince’s Bench, 
 
 - 
 
 Crew. 
 
 Master of the Ordnance, 
 
 - 
 
 Fitz -Williams. 
 
 Lieutenant of the Tower, - 
 
 - 
 
 Lloyd. 
 
 Master of the Jewel-house, - 
 
 - 
 
 Darien. 
 
 Treasurer of the Household, - - - 
 
 - 
 
 Smith. 
 
 Knight Marshal, - 
 
 - 
 
 Bell. 
 
 Master of the Ward-robe, 
 
 - 
 
 Conney. 
 
 Comptroller of the House-hold, 
 
 - 
 
 Bouthe. 
 
 Bishop of St. Giles’s in the Fie , 
 
 - 
 
 Dandye. 
 
 Steward of the House-hold, 
 
 - 
 
 Smith. 
 
 Lord Warden of the four Ports, 
 
 - 
 
 Damporte. 
 
 Secretary of State, - 
 
 - 
 
 Jones . 
 
 Lord Admiral, - - - 
 
 - 
 
 Cecill (Richard). 
 
 Lord Treasurer, - - 
 
 - 
 
 Morrey. 
 
 Lord Great Chamberlain, 
 
 - 
 
 Southworth. 
 
 Lord High Constable, 
 
 
 
 Lord Marshal, - 
 
 - 
 
 Knapolck. 
 
 Lord Privy Seal, ------ 
 
 - 
 
 Lamphew. 
 
 Lord Chamberlain of the House-hold 
 
 - 
 
 Markham. 
 
 Lord High Steward, - 
 
 - 
 
 Kcmpe. 
 
 Lord Chancellor, - 
 
 - 
 
 Johnson. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 XV 
 
 Archbishop of St. Andrews in Holborn, 
 Serjeant at Arms, with the Mace, 
 Gentleman-Usher, - 
 
 The Shield of Pegasus, for the Inner-Temple, 
 Serjeant at Arms, with the Sword, 
 
 Gentleman -Usher, - 
 
 The Shield of the Griffin, for Grays-Inn, 
 
 The King at Arms, - 
 
 The great Shield of the Prince’s Arms, 
 
 The Prince of Purpoole, - 
 
 A Page of Honour, - 
 
 Gentlemen of the Privy Chamber, six Couples. 
 
 A Page of Honour, - - 
 
 Vice-Chamberlain, - 
 
 Master of the Horse, - - 
 
 Yeomen of the Guard, three Couples. 
 
 Towns-men in Liveries 
 
 - Bush. 
 
 - Flemming . 
 
 - Chevett. 
 
 - Scevington. 
 
 - Glascott. 
 
 - Pay lor. 
 
 - Wickliffe . 
 
 - Perkinson. 
 
 - Cohley. 
 
 - Helmes. 
 
 - Wandforde. 
 
 - Butler (Roger). 
 
 - Butler (Thomas). 
 
 - Fitz-Hugh. 
 
 The Family and Followers.” 
 
A TRUE AND FAITHFULL RELATION 
 
 THE RISINGE AND FALL 
 
 OF 
 
 THOMAS TVCKER 
 
 prince of &lba jforttmata, Horn &t» Joljnss, ft 
 
 WITH ALL THE 
 
 OCCURRENTS WHICH HAPPENED THROUGH-OUT HIS WHOLE DOMINA- 
 TION, 
 
 hapned in the yeare of our Lord 1607 the 
 31 of October beinge All Sayntes Eue, 
 that at night a her was made in the Hall 
 of S*. John Baptist’s Colledge in Oxon, 
 accordinge to the custome and statuts of 
 the same place, at w ch time the whole 
 companye or most parte of the Students 
 of the same house mette toogether to be- 
 ginne their Christmas, of w ch some came 
 to see sports, to witte the Seniors as well Graduates, as 
 Vnder-graduates. Others to make sports, viz. Studentes of 
 the seconde yeare, whom they call Poulderlings, others to 
 make sporte w 111 all, of this last sorte were they wliome they 
 call Fresh-menn, Punies of the first yeare, who are by no meanes 
 admitted to be agents or behoulders of those sports, before 
 theinselues haue bine patient perfourmers of them. But (as 
 it often falleth out) the Freshmen or patients, thinkinge the 
 Poulderlings or Agentes too buysie and nimble, They them 
 too dull and backwarde in theyr duety, the standers by findinge 
 both of them too forwarde & violentc, the sportes for that night 
 
 B 
 
Q 
 
 THE ELECTION OF A PRINCE. 
 
 for feare of tumultes weare broken vpp, euerye mann betakinge 
 himselfe to bis reste. 
 
 The next night followinge, beinge the feast of All Sayntes, at 
 nigbte they mett agayne together ; And wheras yt was hoped a 
 nights sleepe would haue somewhat abated theyr rage, it contra- 
 rye wise sett a greater edge on theyr furye, they hauinge all this 
 while but consulted how to gett more strength on agaynst an- 
 other, and consequently to breed newe quarrells and contradic- 
 tions, in so much that the strife 8c contentions of youthes 8c chil- 
 dren had like to haue sett Men together by the eares, to the vtter 
 annihalatinge of all Christmas sportes for the whole yeare fol- 
 lowinge. 
 
 Wherfore for the auoydinge both the one, and the other, some 
 who studied the quiet of all, mentioned the choosinge of a Christ- 
 mas Lord, or Prince of the Re veils, who should haue authorytie 
 both to appoynt 8c moderate all such games, and pastimes as 
 should ensue, 8c to punishe all offenders w ch should any way hin- 
 der or interrupte the free 8c quiet passage of any auntient 8c 
 allowed sporte. 
 
 This motion (for that the person of a Prince or Lorde of the 
 Revells had not bine knowen amongst them for thirty yeares be- 
 fore, and so consequentlye the danger, charge and trouble of 
 such iestinge was cleane forgotten) was psentlye allowed and 
 greedily e apprehended of all; Wher vpon 13 of the senior Vn- 
 der graduates (7 of the bodye of the House 8c 6 Coihoners, 
 Electors in such a case) w th drew themselues into the parlor, where 
 after longe debatinge whether they should chouse a Graduate or 
 an Vnder Graduate, thinkinge the former would not vouchsafe to 
 vndertake yt at theyr appoyntmentes, y e latter should not be vp- 
 held 8c backed as yt was meete 8c necessary for such a place, they 
 came forth rather to make triall what would be done, then to 
 resolue what should be done. And therfore at their first entrance 
 into the Hall meeting S r Towse a younge man (as they thought) 
 fitt for the choyse, they layed handes on him, and by maine 
 strength liftinge him vpp, viua voce, pronounced him Lord. But 
 hee as strongelye refusinge the place as they violentlye thrust it 
 vpon him, shewinge w th all, reasons why hee could by no meanes 
 
THE ELECTION OF A PRINCE, 
 
 3 
 
 vndergoe sue a charge, they gott onlye this good by their first 
 attempt, that they vnderstood heer-by how that y e whole Col- 
 ledge was rather willinge a Senior Batchelour at least, yf not a 
 junior M r should be chosen in to the place rather then any 
 Vnder graduate, because they would rather an earnest sporte then 
 a scofhnge jest should be made of it. Wher fore the Electors 
 retourninge againe into the Parlor and shuttinge the dore close 
 vpon themselues beganne more seriously to consult of the matter, 
 and findinge some vnable, some vnwillinge to take the place, 
 at length they concluded to make the 2 assay but w th more 
 formalitie and deliberation ; resoluinge, yf they were not now 
 seconded of all handes, to meddle no more w th yt. Wherfore, 
 entringe y e second time in to the Hall they desired one of the 10 
 Seniors & one of the Deanes of the Colledge, to hould the Scru- 
 tiny e and the Vice- President to sitt by as ouer-seer, who willing- 
 ly harkninge to their request sate all 3 downe at the highe Ta- 
 ble : Then the Electors went vp one by one in senioritye to giue 
 
 their voyce by writinge. In the meane time there was great ex- 
 pectation who should bee the Man. Some in y e lower ende of 
 the Hall, to make sporte, had theyr Names loudest in their mouthes 
 whome they least thought of in their inindes, & whome they knewe 
 should come shortest of the place. At length all the voyces be- 
 inge giuen and, accordinge to the custome, the Scrutinie at large 
 beinge burned, the Vice-praesident w th the rest stoode vpp, and 
 out of the abstract the Deane read distinctly in the hearinge of 
 all psent as followeth 
 
 Nominantur in hoc Scrutinio duo quorum 
 
 C l us Joanes Towse, habet suffragia sex. 
 
 £2^ Thomas Tucker, habet suffragia septem. 
 
 These wordes were not out of his mouthe before a gencrall and 
 loud crie was made of Tucker, Tucker, Viuat, Viuat, &ct. After 
 w ch all the younger sorte rane forth of the Colledge crieinge the 
 same in the streets; w ch S r . Tucker beinge then howsde not fair 
 from the Colledge, ouer hearinge, kept himself close till the com- 
 
4 
 
 THE PRINCE’S PRIVATE ENSTALLMENT. 
 
 panye were past, and then, as soone and secretly as he could, gott 
 him to his Chamber ; where (after he had bine longe sought for 
 abroad in the Towne, and at home in y e Colledge, haste and 
 desire out ruhinge it self, and seekinge there last where it might 
 first finde) he was in a maner surprised, and more by violence 
 then any will of his owne, taken vpp & with continuall & ioyfull 
 outcries, carried about y e Hall, and so backe to his Chamber, 
 as his owne request was, where for y l night he rested, dismiss- 
 inge y e Company and desiringe some time to thinke of their loues 
 and goodwill, and to consider of his owne charge and place. 
 
 About 3 or 4 dayes after, on the 5 of Nouember the L rd 
 Elect w* the Batchelours, and some of the Senior Vnder-gra- 
 duates came into y e Hall where euery man beinge seated in his 
 order, many speaches were made by diuerse of diuerse matters, 
 some comendinge a monarchicall state of Gouermente, and y e 
 sometimes suddayne necessity e of Dictators, others discomend- 
 inge both. Some agayne extollinge sportes & reuells, others 
 mainely disallowinge them, all of them drawinge some conclusion 
 concerninge y e like or dislike of y e gouerment newly begune, 
 and like for a little space to continue amongst them. In y e ende 
 the Lord Elect himselfe, to conclude all, deliuered his owne minde 
 in maner followinge 
 
 Quae beneficia (Viri Electores clarissimi) plus difficultatis atq, 
 oneris apportant collocata, qua debite administrata ; poterunt 
 honoris, caute magis primo in limine credo excipienda qua aut 
 iihensae dignitatis expectatione appetenda auide, aut boni in- 
 cogniti caeco appetitu apphendenda temere. Quoru in albo 
 (Electores conscripti) cu semper dignitates istiusmodi serio re- 
 tulerim, Vos (pace dica vestrae diligentiae) non tarn mihi vide- 
 mini gratias debere expectare, qua ipse istud onus suscepturus 
 videor promereri. Na illud demum gratijs excipitur beneficiu 
 (pro temporu ratione loquor) quod nec sollicitudo vrget nec 
 officiu — Infinitae autem adeo sunt anxietates, quae vel istam do- 
 minatus avaruitcva-iv circumcingunt, vt pauci velint ipsas cu do- 
 minatu lubenter amplecti, nulli possint euitare, nulli sustinere. 
 Na vbi veri imperij facies est repraesentanda expectanda semper 
 
the prince’s private enstallment. 
 
 5 
 
 est aliqua curaru proportio. Veru cum dignitas Electoria, ami* 
 citia suffragatoria, populi applausus, oniu consensus Democratise 
 tollendae causa ad primatum euocauerint, lubens animi nostri 
 strenuae renuentis temperabo impetu, et sedulo impenda curam, 
 vt Reip : (si vobis minus possim singulis) toti satisfacia. Hie 
 ego non ita existimo opportunu progressuu nostroru aduersarijs 
 cura imperij promiscuam et indigestam collaudantib^ respondere, 
 aut stat^ Monarchici necessitate efFerentib^ assentari : Discepta- 
 tionu vestraru non accessi judex, accersor imperator; Amori ves- 
 tro (Viri nobis ad prime chari) lubens tribuo gloriae nostrae ortu; 
 progressu augustu atq > gloriosu a vobis ex officio vestro exigere, 
 praeter amore nostrum fore no arbitror. Tyranidem non profiteor, 
 imperiu exercebo. Cujus foeliciores processus vt promoueantur, 
 atq > indies stabiliant aeris magis quam oris debetis esse prodigi. 
 Quare primitias amoris, atq, officij vestri statuo extemplo exigen- 
 das, ne aut ipse sine authoritate imperare, aut imperium sine 
 gloria capessisse videar. IT oXirslav Atheniensem sequimur, cujus 
 ad norman Ego ad munus regiu jam suffectus, Mineruae, Vulcano 
 et Prometheo sacra cu ludorum curatoribus pro moris vsu, prima 
 mea in his sacris authoritate fieri curabo. Interim vero (Viri nostra 
 authoritate adhuc majores) juxta praedictae Reipublicae jmagine 
 choragos, seu adjutores desidero, qui no tantum ludis praeponan- 
 tur, sed et liberalitate pro opu ratione in Reipublicae impensas 
 vtentes, ex aere publico praemia partim proponant, partim de suo 
 insumant, hoc nomine quod illoru sint praefecti. Quae alia vestri 
 sunt officij moniti praestabitis, quae amoris, vitro (vti Spero) of- 
 feretis. 
 
 This was counted sufficient for his priuate jnstallmente, but 
 w th all it was thought necessary y 1 some more publicke notice 
 hereof should be giuen to the whole Vniuersitie, w th more so- 
 lemnitie and better fashion ; yet before they would venter to 
 publish their priuate intendements, they were desirous to knowe 
 what authoritie and jurisdiction would be graunted them, what 
 money allowed them towards the better goinge thorough w th 
 that they had begune. And not long after the whole company 
 
6 
 
 SUBSIDIES REQUIRED. 
 
 of the Batchelours sent 2 bills to the M re fire, y e one crauinge 
 duety and alleageance, y e other money & maintenance in maner 
 & forme followinge : 
 
 The coppye of a Bill sent by y e Lord Elect , and y e whole com- 
 pany of y e Batchelours to y e M™ fire, crauinge their duety 
 and alleageance. 
 
 Not doubtinge of those ceremonious and outward duetyes w ch 
 yourselues (for example sake) will perfourme, Wee Thomas 
 Tucker with y e rest of y e Bacchelours are bold to entreat, but as 
 Thomas , L rd Elect w A y e rest of our Councell are ready to expect, 
 that no Tutor or Officer whatsoeuer shall at any time, or vpon 
 any occasion jntermeddle, or partake with any scholler, or youth 
 whatsoeuer, but leauinge all matters to the discretion of our selues, 
 stand to those censures and judgementes which wee shall giue of 
 all offenders, y t are vnder our gouermente in causes appertaininge 
 to our gouernment. All wayes promisinge a carefull readinesse 
 to see schollerlike excercise perfourmed, and orderly quietnesse 
 mayntained in all sortes ; This as Wee promise for our owne 
 partes, so Wee would willingly desire y*you should promise the 
 perfourmance of y e rest for your partes, accordinge to y t bountye 
 &loue which allready you haue shewed us. 
 
 Yours Thomas Tucker 
 
 Ioseph Fletcher 
 Iohn Smith 
 Richard Baylye 
 Richard Holbrooke 
 Iohn Towse 
 
 Thomas JDozcner 
 Rouland Juxon 
 Iohn Huckstepp 
 lames Bearblocke 
 Iohn English 
 
 This Bill subscribed w th all their handes was seene & allowed 
 by all the M rs who promised rather more then lesse, then that 
 w ch was demaunded. But concerninge y e other Bill for Subsi- 
 dyes, it was answered, that it was not in their power to graunt 
 it w th out the President, whose cominge home, was euery day 
 expected : against w ch time it was prouided, and deliuered vnto 
 
SUBSIDIES GRAUNTED. 
 
 7 
 
 him; who together w th the 10 Seniors, was loath to graunt any 
 thinge till they were certified what sportes should bee, of what 
 quality 8c charge, that so they might y e better proportion y e one 
 to y e other, y e meanes to the matter: They were allso willinge to 
 knowe what particular Men would take vpon them y e care of fur- 
 nish! nge particular nightes. For they would by no meanes relye 
 vpon generall promises because they were not ignorant how that 
 w cb concerneth all in generall is by no man in speciall regarded. 
 Whet fore they beinge somewhat, allthough not fully, satisfied in 
 their demaundes by some of the M rs , whom they seemed cheefly 
 to trust w th y e whole businesse, the Bill was againe perused, and 
 euery man ceazed in manner and forme followinge : 
 
 The Coppye of an auncient Act for taxes and subsidies made 
 in y e rayge of our Predecessor of famous memory e, in this 
 Parliament held in Aula regni y e vi f h of Nouember 1.577 
 and now for Our self newly ratified and published , anno 
 regni j° Nouemb. 7° 1607. 
 
 Because all louinge 8c loyall Subjqpts doe owe not onely them- 
 selues, but allso their landes, liuinges, goodes, and what soeuer 
 they call theirs, to y e good of y e Comonwealth, and estate vnder 
 w ch they peaceably enjoy all, It is farther enacted that no man 
 dissemble his estate, or hide his abilitye, but be willinge at all 
 times to pay such duetyes, taxes, and subsidies as shall be law- 
 fully demaunded 8c thought reasonable without y e hinderance of 
 his owne estate, vpon payne of forfettinge himself and his goodes 
 whatsoeuer. 
 
 Domus vi 
 
 li . xiii*. iiii d . 
 
 — More ii n . xvi s . j d . 
 
 
 Mr Praesidens - - 
 
 - xl 8 . 
 
 Mr Cliffe - - - - 
 
 - X s 
 
 Mr Vice praesid. - - 
 
 - X s 
 
 Mr Boyle - - - - 
 
 - X s 
 
 Mr Raynsby - 
 
 - XX s 
 
 Mr Androes - - - 
 
 - X s 
 
 Mr Lee - - - - 
 
 - XX s 
 
 Mr Sandsbury - - 
 
 - X 5 
 
 Mr Sone - - - - 
 
 
 Mr Blagrouc - 
 
 - X s 
 
 Mr Laude - - - - 
 
 - X s 
 
 Mr Salterne - - - 
 
 - X 9 
 
 Mr Raulinson - - 
 
 - XX s 
 
 Mr Barnard - - - 
 
 - X s 
 
8 
 
 SUBSIDIES GRADNTED. 
 
 Mr luxon - - - 
 
 - - 
 
 X s 
 
 Mr Lawson - - 
 
 - * 
 
 V s 
 
 Mr Iackson - 
 
 vi s 
 
 viii d 
 
 Mr Tuer - - - - 
 
 vi s 
 
 viii d 
 
 Mr Loueden - - - 
 
 vi s 
 
 viii d 
 
 Mr Tillesly - - 
 
 - - 
 
 X s 
 
 Mr Rich - - - - 
 
 
 XX s 
 
 Mr Nash - - - - 
 
 - 
 
 XX s 
 
 Mr Sprott - 
 
 
 X s 
 
 Mr May - - - - 
 
 - 
 
 XX s 
 
 Mr Washburne 
 
 - - 
 
 ■ V s 
 
 Mr Bell - - - - 
 
 viii s 
 
 ! iiii d 
 
 Mr Chadwell - - 
 
 - - 
 
 X s 
 
 Mr Chamberlen - - 
 
 - 
 
 XX s 
 
 Mr Swinerton Se. 
 
 - 
 
 XX s 
 
 Mr Swinerton Ju. 
 
 - 
 
 XX s 
 
 Mr Phillips Se. - - 
 
 - 
 
 XX s 
 
 Mr Phillips Ju. - - 
 
 - 
 
 XX s 
 
 Mr Dickinson - - 
 
 - 
 
 XX s 
 
 S r Smith - - - 
 
 - - 
 
 V s 
 
 Cheney - - - 
 
 
 X s 
 
 Dingly Se. - - - 
 
 vi s 
 
 viii d 
 
 Peake - - - - 
 
 
 X s 
 
 Hyggins - - - 
 
 - - 
 
 X s 
 
 Anger - - - - 
 
 
 X s 
 
 Stanley - - - x s 
 
 Hungerford - - - - xv* 
 
 S r Fletcher - - - - x s 
 
 S r Downer ----- x s 
 
 S r Smith x s 
 
 S r luxon ----- x s 
 S r Baylie ----- x s 
 S r Huckstepp - - - - x s 
 
 S r Holbrooke - - - - x s 
 
 S T Bearblock - - - - x s 
 
 S r Towse 
 
 - - - - X s 
 
 English 
 
 - - - vi s viii d 
 
 Steeuens 
 
 - - - - V s 
 
 Blagroue - 
 
 - - - vi s viii d 
 
 Virtue - - 
 
 - - - - V s 
 
 Hudson - - 
 
 - - - - V s 
 
 Clarke - - 
 
 - - - ii s vi d 
 
 Alder - - 
 
 
 Dingley Ju. 
 
 - - - - X s 
 
 Sackuile Se. 
 
 - - . - X s 
 
 Sackuile Ju. 
 
 - - - - X s 
 
 Nedham 
 
 - - - - X s 
 
 Allworth 
 
 - - - - X s 
 
 Alford - - 
 
 
 Morgan - - 
 
 - - - - X s 
 
 Chadwell 
 
 - - - - X s 
 
 Clarke - - 
 
 - - - - X s 
 
 Leedes Se. - 
 
 
 Leedes Ju. 
 
 - - - - XV s 
 
 Hereford 
 
 - - - X s 
 
 Beauance 
 
 - - - - X s 
 
 Brigden - - 
 
 ■ - - - - V s 
 
 Higgs - - 
 
 
 Nailor - - 
 
 - - - - V s 
 
 Dale - - 
 
 - - — - V s 
 
 Cooper - - 
 
 - - - ii s . vi d 
 
 Williamson - 
 
 ■ - - - - V s 
 
 W renn - - 
 
 
 Grice - - 
 
 - - - - V s 
 
 Rylie - - - 
 
 - - - ii s vi d 
 
 Rippen - - 
 
 - - - ii s vi d 
 
 Harris - - 
 
 - - - iii s iiii d 
 
 Langly - - 
 
 - - - ii s vi d 
 
 Iustice 
 
 - - - iii 8 iiii d 
 
 Summa 52 n xiii s vii d 
 
PRIVIE SEALES SENT FORTH. 
 
 9 
 
 Though y e whole company had thus largely contributed to- 
 wards y e ensuinge sports, yet it was found that when all thinges 
 necessary should be layed toegether, a great some of money 
 would be wantinge and therfore a course was thought vpon of 
 sendinge out priuie Seales to able & willinge Gentlemen w ch 
 had bine sometimes Fellowes or Comoners of y e Colledge y fc 
 it would please them to better y e stocke, and out of their good 
 will contribute somwhat towardes y e Princes Reuelles : y e forme 
 of this writt was in manner followinge 
 
 Trusty and welbeloued wee greet you well. Allthough there 
 bee nothinge more against our minde then to be drawne into any 
 course that may burden our loyall Subjects, Yet such is our 
 estate, at this time, in regard of y e great and vrgent occasions 
 fallinge and growinge dayly vpon vs without time or respiration 
 as wee shalbe forced presently to disburse greater somes of mo- 
 ney then is possible for vs to prouide by any ordinarye meanes, or 
 to want w th out great prejudice. Sejng as well y c fame of our 
 
 THE SUPERSCRIPTION 
 
 To our trusty e, and welbeloued N. N. 
 Knight , or Esquier fyc. 
 
10 
 
 PRIVIE SEALES SENT FORTH. 
 
 kingdome in y e entertaynment of forraine Princes & Embassa- 
 dours, as y e safetie of our owne person, and y e whole Coinon- 
 wealth for the praeuentinge of warrs and tumultes, likely to ensue, 
 consisteth in y e wealth of our coffers as much as in any one 
 meanes whatsoeuer. In which consideration wee thinke it need- 
 lesse to vse any more argumentes from such a Prince to such a 
 Subiect, but y*, as our necessitie is y e only cause of our request, so 
 your loue and duety must be y e cheife motiue of your ready per- 
 fourmance and helpe in furnishinge these our wantes, not only 
 w th your person, but w th your purse in your owne absence : A 
 
 matter wherof we make no doubt, beinge fully pers waded of your 
 seruice & fidelitie. Therfore our will and pleasure is that pre- 
 sently upon y e receipt hereof you cause a some of money accord - 
 inge to y r abilitie & greatnesse of y r loue to bee deliuered to 
 Thomas Clarke whom we haue appointed to be our Collector in y e 
 County of Middlesex ; the lone wherof only we desire to be vntill 
 y e next great yeare of Plato, then to be jihediatly repayd by vs or 
 our successors to you or y r Assignes y t shall then demaund it. 
 
 Giuen vnder our priuye Seale at our Pallace of Sb Iohns in 
 Oxen, the seuenth of December in the first yeare of our rayne, 
 1607. 
 
 The names of those who were serued w th this writt , and 
 who most willingly obeyed ipon the receipt thereof, were 
 these follow inge a 
 
 S r Robert Chamberlen 
 
 
 Mr Whitlock - - - 
 
 XXX s 
 
 who contributed 
 
 - 
 
 Mr Lydall - - - 
 
 - XX s 
 
 S r William Paddy e 
 
 - 3 U 
 
 Mr Barklye - 
 
 - XX s 
 
 S r George Wright - 
 
 - XX s 
 
 Mr Kiete - - - 
 
 - XX s 
 
 Mr Doctor Perin 
 
 - XX s 
 
 Mr Hugh May - - 
 
 - XX s 
 
 Mr Doctor Searchfield 
 
 XX s 
 
 Mr Martin - - 
 
 - X s 
 
 Mr Doctor Warner - 
 
 - X s 
 
 Mr Wilmont - - - 
 
 - X s 
 
 Mr Hawlye - - - 
 
 - XX s 
 
 Mr Bowstred - . - 
 
 - X s9 
 
 Suma xvi h . x 5 . 0 
 
 a Others were serued and hragd of it, as though they had giuen, hut sent 
 nothing. 
 
THE PRINCES PUBLIKE INSTALLMENT. 
 
 11 
 
 For all these Subsidies at home, and lielpes abroad, yet it was 
 founde y t in y e ende there would rather be want (as jndeed it 
 hapned) then any superfluitye, and therfore y e Prince tooke order 
 w th the Bowsers to send out warrantes to all y e Tenantes 8c other 
 frendes of y* Colledge, y l they should send in extraordinary 
 prouision against euery Feast, w ch accordingly was perfourmed ; 
 Some sendinge money, some Wine, some Venison some other 
 prouision, euery one accordinge to his ability©. 
 
 All thinges beinge thus sufficiently (as it was thought) prouided 
 for, y e Councell table w th y e Lord himself, mett together to nomi- 
 nate Officers 8c to appoynt the day of y e Princes publike jn- 
 stallment w ch was agreed should be on Sb Andrews day at night; 
 because at that time y e Colledge allso was to chouse their new 
 Officers for y c yeare followinge. 
 
 Now for y t they would not playnely & barely jnstall him 
 without any farther ceremonies, it was thought fitt that his whole 
 ensuinge Regiment (for good lucke sake) should be consecrated 
 to y e Deitie of Fortune , as y e sole Mistres & Patronesse of his 
 estate, and therfore a Schollerlike deuise called, Ara Fortune 
 was prouided for his installment ; w ch was perfourmed in manner 
 8c forme followinge : 
 
 ARA FORTVNiE. 
 
 hit er-locut ores . 
 
 PRINCEPS. 
 
 FORTUNA. 
 
 TOLMiEA. 
 THESAURARIUS. 
 CAMERARIUS. 
 JURISCONSU LTU S. 
 
 PHI LOSOPHUS. 
 
 ****** 
 
 RUSTICUS. 
 
 STULTUS. 
 
 REBELLIS PRIMUS. 
 
 SECUNDUS. 
 
 TERTIUS. 
 
 QUARTUS. 
 
 NUNCIUS. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 [ The Drama is not given on account of its length. And it will be 
 remarked , that y wherever asterisks are substituted , some portion 
 of the MS. has been omitted .] 
 
12 
 
 ARA FORTUNE. 
 
 This Showeby our selues was not thought worthye of a stage or 
 scaffoldes, and therfore after supper y e tables were onlye sett to- 
 gether, w cb was not done w 411 out great toyle & difficullty, by rea- 
 son of y e great multitude of people (w ch by y e default of y e dore- 
 keepers, and diuers others, euery man bringinge in his freinds) 
 had fild y e Hall before wee thought of it. But for all this it 
 begahe before 8 of clock, and was well liked by y e whole audi- 
 ence, who, how vnrulye so euer they meante to bee afterwardes, 
 resolued I thinke at first w* their good applause and quiet beha- 
 uiour to drawe vs on so farr, as wee should not bee able to re- 
 tourne backwardes without shame & discreditt. They gaue vs at 
 y e ende 4 seuerall & generall plaudites; at y e 2 wherof v e Canopie 
 w** hunge ouer y* Altare of Fortune (as it had bine frighted w lh y* 
 noise, or meante to signifie that 2 plaudites were as much as it 
 deserued) suddenly fell downe ; but it was cleanly supported by 
 some of y* standers by till y e company was voyded, y 4 none but 
 our selues tooke notice of it. 
 
 Some vpon y e sight of this Showe (for y e better enoblinge of his 
 person, and drawinge his pedigree euen from y e Godes because 
 the Prince’s name was Tucker, and y* last Prince before him was 
 Dr. Case) made this conceipty 4 Casus et Fortuna genuerunt T u^epor 
 Principem Fortunatum— so y e one his father, and y e other his mo- 
 ther. 
 
 Another accident worthy obseruation (and w ch was allso then 
 obserued) was y 4 y e Foole carelesly sittinge downe at y* Princes 
 feete brake his staff in y e midst, whence wee could not but di- 
 rectly gather a verye ill omen, y 4 y e default and follye of some 
 woulde bee y e very breaknecke of our ensueinge sports, w rCh how 
 it fell out, I leaue to the censures of others,- our selues (I am 
 sure) w ere guilty to our selues of many weaknesses and faultes, y e 
 number whereof were encreased by y e crossin ge vntowardnesse, 
 and backwardnesse of diuers of y e Princes neerest followers, nay 
 y* Prince himself had some weaknesses w ch did much praeiudice 
 his state, whereof y e cheifest weere his openesse, and familiaritye 
 w* all sortes, beinge vnwillinge to displease any, yet not able to 
 please all. But to proceede : — On S 4 Thomas day at night y e 
 officers before elect w ere solemnly proclaimed by a Sergeant at 
 
THE PROCLAMATION. 
 
 13 
 
 arrnes, and an Herauld, y e trompetts soundinge beetwixt euery 
 title. This Proclamation after it was read, was for a time hunge 
 vp in y e Hall, y l euery man might y c better vnderstande y e qua- 
 litie of his owne place, and they y* were of lower, or no place, 
 might learne what duety to perfourme to others. 
 
 The maher whereof was as followeth : 
 
 Pro Aris 
 
 Et Focis 
 
 Whereas by y e contagious poyson, and spreadinge malice of some 
 ill disposed persons, hath bine threatned not onelye y e daunger 
 of suhuertinge peaceable & orderlye proceedinges, hut y e all- 
 most vtter annihilatinge of auncient & laudable customes — It 
 hath binne thought conucnient, or rather absolutely necessarye 
 for y e auoydinge of a most daungerous ensuinge Anarcliie, a 
 more setled order of gouerment, for the better safetye of all well 
 meaninge Subiects, and curbinge of discontented, headstronge 
 persons, should bee established. And whereas through wante 
 of good lawes by wise and discreet Magistrates to bee duely 
 
14 
 
 THE PROCLAMATION. 
 
 and truely executed, a giddye conceipt hath possest y e mindes 
 of manye turbulent spirites, of endueringe no superiour, hardly 
 an aequall, whereby y e Comon-wealth might growe to bee a 
 manye-headed monster— It hath bine prouided by y* staide and 
 mature deliberations of well experienc’t gouernours and proui- 
 dent Counsellors, y l one whose liighe deserts might answere 
 his highe aduauncement should bee sett ouer all to y e rulinge 
 and directinge of all, — Therefore by these praesentes bee it 
 knowne vnto all of what estate or condicion soeuer whome it 
 shall concerne y t Thomas Tucker an honorable wise & learned 
 Gentleman to y e great comeforte of y e weale-publique from 
 hence-forth to be reputed, taken and obayed for the true, onely 
 and vndoubted Monarche of this reuellinge Climate, whome y e 
 generall consent and ioynte approbation of y e whole Comon- 
 wealth hath inuested and crowned with these honours 8c titles 
 follow'inge : 
 
 The most magnificent and renowned Thomas by the fauour of 
 Fortune, Prince of Alba Fortunata, Lord S l Iohns, high Re- 
 gent of y e Hall, Duke of St. Giles, Marquesse of Magdalens, 
 Landgraue of y e Groue, County Palatine of y e Cloisters, Cheife 
 
THE PROCLAMATION. 
 
 15 
 
 Bailiffe of y c Beaumonts, high Ruler of Rome, Maister of the 
 Manor of Waltham, Gouernour of Gloster-greene, sole Co- 
 maunder of all Titles, Turneaments, and Triumphes, Super- 
 intendent in all Solemnities whatsoeuer. 
 
 Now because they whom y e vnknowne cares, & vnweildie bur- 
 dens of a sole regiment shall relie vpon, neede extraordinary helpe 
 in y dr more then ordinarye affaires, Hee hath as well for y e better 
 discharge & ease of those royall duetyes (as it were) w ch attend on 
 his place, as for y e auoidinge y e odious & ingratefull suspition of 
 a single dominion, and priuate Tyrahye, selected and chosen vnto 
 himself a graue and learned assistance both for councell and go- 
 uernment, whom, and euery of w ch , his princely will is, shall in 
 seuerall places & dignities bee both honored and obeid, w th no 
 lesse respect and obseruance then if himself were there praesent in 
 person. And that carelesse ignorance may bee no lawfull excuse 
 for y e breach of his will therin hee hath appointed their seuerall 
 names and titles, w th y eir subordinate officers and deputies to be 
 signified & proclaimed to all his louinge and leige Subjects, in 
 rnaher followinge : 
 
 The right gracious Iohn Duke of Groueland, Earle de Bello- 
 Monte, Baron Smith, cheife Ranger of y c Woods & Forrests, 
 great M r of y e Prince’s Game, hath for his subordinate Officers, 
 S r Frauncis Hudson, Keeper of y e Parkes, &, Warder of 
 y e Warrens. 
 
 S r Thomas Grice, Forrester, & Sargcaunt of y e Wood-howse. 
 
16 
 
 THE PROCLAMATION. 
 
 The right honourable Rowland Lord Iuxon, L rd Chauncelour, 
 keeper of y e great Seale, Signer of all publicke Charters, al- 
 lower of all Priuiledges, hath for his subordinate officers, 
 
 S r William Dickenson, M r of y e Requests, & y e Princes 
 Remembrancer. 
 
 S r Owen Vertue, Clarke of y e Signet, and Chafer of Waxe 
 
 The right honourable Thomas L rd Downer, L rd high Treasurer, 
 Receauer generall of all Rents, Reuenewes, Subsidies, belong- 
 inge by Nature, custome or accident to y e Prince; y e great 
 Payemaster of all necessary charges appertayninge to y e Court, 
 hath for his subordinate Officers, 
 
 S r Iohn Williamson, Steward of y e Howsehold, Disburser 
 for y e Familye. 
 
 S r Christopher Wrenn, Cofferer, and Clarke of y e Exche- 
 quer. 
 
THE PROCLAMATION. 
 
 1 7 
 
 The right honourable Ioseph L rd . Fletcher, L rd high Admiral!, 
 great Comaunder of all y e narrow seas, floods, and passages; 
 Suruayer of y e Nauye, Mayster of y e Ordinance, hath for his 
 subordinate Officers, 
 
 S r Stephan Angier, Warden of y e Cinque Ports, and Vic- 
 tualer of y e Fleet. 
 
 S r Anthony Steeuens Captayne of y e Guarde. 
 
 The right honourable Richard Lord Baylie, Lord high Marshall, 
 President of all Titles, and Turneaments, Comand r in all Tri- 
 umphes, Suppressor of suddayne tumultes, Supervisor of all 
 games, and publique pastimes, hath for his subordinate officers, 
 S r William Blagroue, M r of y c lleuells. 
 
 S r Iohn Hungerford, Knight Marshall, seuere Comaunder 
 of y e Wayes for y c Princes passage. 
 
 D 
 
18 
 
 THE PROCLAMATION. 
 
 The right honourable Iohn Lord Towse, Lord high Chamberlayne, 
 Purueior for y e Princes pallace, Ouer seer of all feasts and 
 banquets, furnisher of all Chambers, and Galleries, Examener 
 of all priuate pastimes, hath for his subordinate Officers, 
 
 S r Richard Swinerton'l y e Princes Wards & Squiers of his 
 S r William Cheyney j bodye. 
 
 M r Edward Cooper, Groome-Porter. 
 
 The right honourable Richard L rd Holbrooke Comptroller gene- 
 rail, cbeife ouer-seer of all Purseauants, Orderer of all howse- 
 hold Seruaunts, hath for his subordinate officers, 
 
 S r Thomas Stanley 7 Sergeaunts at Armes & Gentlemen 
 M r Iohn Alford j Vshers to y e Prince. 
 
 M r Brian Nailor, M r of y e Robes of state, Keeper of y e 
 Wardropp, and Surveior of y e Liueries. 
 
THE PROCLAMATION. 
 
 19 
 
 The right honourable lames Lord Berbloke, principall Secretarye, 
 Lord priuye Seale, designer of all Embasies, Drawer of all 
 Edicts and Letters, Scribe to y e State, hath for his subordinate 
 Officers, 
 
 S r Thomas Clarke, M r of y e Roles, & Prothonotarye. 
 
 M r Marcheaumount Nedham, Clarke of y e Councell-Table. 
 
 The right honourable Iohn L rd English, L rd Cheife lustice, Exa- 
 mener of all causes capitall; Sessor vpon life & death, Judge 
 of controuersies criminall, hath for his subordinate officers, 
 
 S r Iohn Alder, Attourney generall, & y e Princes Sollicitor. 
 M r Iohn Sackevile, Baylife Erraunt. 
 
20 
 
 THE PROCLAMATION AND STATUTES. 
 
 Now because good Gouernours w th out good lawes, carefull 
 Magistrates w^-out wholesome Statutes are like dume (though 
 paynted) Images, or vnweapon’d Souldiers — Hee of his absolute 
 authoritye, conferred vpon him in y e late free Election, doth ratifie 
 and establish all such Decrees and Statutes, as Hee now findeth 
 wisely and warely ordayned of his famous Predecessor; pro- 
 misinge onely by a full and seueare execution to put life in their 
 dead remembrance, Addinge moreouer some few cautions to bee 
 obserued in his ensuinge Triumphes, as followeth — 
 
 First Wee will and coihaund y* no Forreyner, or home-borne 
 Subject of what estate or condicon soeuer psume to disturbe Vs in 
 our priuate Walkes and Galleries; much lesse to pester o r Cham- 
 ber of Praesence, either by themselues or others, vpon perill of o r 
 displeasure and certaine imprisonment for y e night p'sent; w ch fault 
 because it is too coihon, and very praejudiciall to or.r State, Wee 
 charge o r officers appointed for y 1 purpose to see punisht w th all 
 rigour & severitye, respectinge no mans person, but such as shall 
 be thought necessarye and allowed by speciall Praerogatiue of y e 
 Prince himself. 
 
 Secotidly because lowlinesse, and vndervaluinge humilitie in 
 the judgement of y e Sage haue bine allwayes praefer’d before high 
 pride 8c ouertoppinge arrogance, wee thinke it most reasonable, 
 yt f or ye better freedome of all mens sight, and auoydinge y e abvse 
 of engrossinge of our sportes, y t the meanest and lowest of our 
 Subjects enjoy y e former places, y 1 if they offende they may bee 
 easily ouer-lookt by their Superiours, whom Wee will haue stand 
 behinde for y e same purpose vpon perill of displacinge, or loos- 
 inge their hatts if not y ehr heads. 
 
 Thirdly for pventinge y e malice of detractinge tounges, and y f 
 Wee may seeme to comaun d no thinge w ch y e most parte of our 
 Subjects shall not bee most willinge to obserue, Wee will 8c 
 stray ghtly charge, y t nothinge either priuatel}" or publickly shalbe 
 perfourmed at w ch there shall not bee some, and perhaps just ex- 
 ception taken w th all vpon o r princely bountye, licensinge them 
 w ch knowe least to except most. 
 
 Fourthly out of o r open liberalitye wee graunt free libertye to 
 
THE PROCLAMATION AND STATUTES. 
 
 21 
 
 all wandringe Spies, 8c Knights errant y* shall visitt o r Court to 
 furnish y em selues w th any necessarye y t themselues shall like, or 
 first lay hands on ; All-way es prouided, y* beinge forreiners and 
 in a strange place, their carriadge be cleanely 8c warye, vpon 
 payne of beeinge discried, 8c so taken for plaine theeves, w ch . 
 otherwise might passe for howse-hold purveiors, 8c allowed takers. 
 
 Fifthly because out of diuersities of opinion, y e best may bee 
 chosen, and y* y e multitude of objections most discouer trueth, 
 wee further will and comaund that no man come to any of o r con- 
 sultations w th out some objection readye, and that no two agree in 
 one and y e same opinion ; but w th all warninge them y t they be as 
 willinge to be answered, as to oppose, vpon perill of talkinge 
 idely, 8c by consequence not to bee hearde. 
 
 Sixstly because nothinge is more for y e enrichinge of a king- 
 dome then merchandize 8c coiherce v\ rth other Nations, Bee it 
 therefore enacted for y* maintenaunce of y e same trade in Veluets, 
 Satins, Sylkes, Rashe and other Stuffs as fitt for tearinge as fine 
 for wearinge, y t none of his Highnesse Subjects of what Degree 
 or State soeuer coihinge to visitt his Court at time of Revells, 
 shall psume to hinder or finde fault w th nayles, tenter-hookes, 
 haspes, latches, splinters, chinkes, or such like, put in trust by 
 his Highnesse to teare out good clothes, and to keepe Marketts 
 quicke, vnder payne of beinge accounted miserable, and to base 
 to followe y e Courte. Prouided allwayes y l no Subject be forced 
 to such willfull prodigallitye as to rente good clothes, if hee can 
 keepe them whole, any thinge to the contrarye in this Act not- 
 w^standinge. 
 
 Seauenthly because it is farr from y c Princes purpose to ouer- 
 burden any of his loui nge and liege People, or to take too much 
 of any free or forwarde spirits, readye to doe him all loyall and 
 laudable seruice, — Bee it therefore lawfull for manye vv th shall 
 freely, and of their owne accorde, w* out any constrainte or in- 
 uitation, make their personall attendance at y e Princes Reuells 
 to see more then they knowe, and to heare more then they vnder- 
 stand, yea, and (yf neede be, and y cir owne occasion so require) 
 to vqderstand more then y ci heare ; that is to say to mistake and 
 misconstrue any thinge accordinge to their owne will and purpose, 
 
22 
 
 THE ADVAUNCEMENT OF H.S. 
 
 vpon payne of beinge thought to judicious for y e one, and to in- 
 geniouse for y e other, and so consequently vnfitt to Hue in this 
 criticall and censorious age, — Allwayes prouided that euery one 
 may see and heare as much as hee cann, vnderstand as much as 
 hee is able, any thinge in this statute to the contrary not w* 
 standinge. 
 
 Eyghthly and lastly, for y l y e Prince’s will and pleasure is that 
 one Subject may liue by an other, and y 1 y e greater and stronger 
 sorte of People may not too much wronge and oppresse y e weaker, 
 w ch hath fro time to time hredd much clamour, and lamantable 
 out cryes, euen w 4 in his owne Pallace, therefore for y e auoyd- 
 inge of all such oppression, his Highnesse strayghtly chargeth 
 and comaundeth all such as at any time cahot gett in, to stande 
 w til out vpon paine of beinge thought foolish & desperate for 
 attemptinge more then is possible ; Prouided allwayes y t no man 
 hee constrained to come so late that hee must needes bee shutt 
 out, or so soone y* he must needs be thrust out, but that y d w** 
 are w* in may bee conueniently prouided for, and they that be 
 w** 1 out may quietly prouide for themselues, and not striue to 
 enter by indirect meanes, as climebinge of walls, breakinge of 
 windowes, and such like, when as y e doores and gates euer doe, 
 or shall lie open for ) ,em . All w 011 his Highnesse will haue per- 
 formed, vpon paine of beinge troublesome to no purpose. 
 
 Giuen at our Manor of Whites-Hall, December y e 21 th 
 in y e first of our Raygne. 
 
 The same night the Prince, w* the rest of his Councell meet- 
 inge at the high table in the Hall, a Bill was preferred bv the 
 L rd Treasurer for the aduauncement of M r Henery Swinarton to 
 y e Earldome of Cloys ter-sheere, and y e ouerseeinge of y e Princes 
 
TO THE EARLDOME OF CLOISTER-SHIRE. 
 
 23 
 
 great Librarye. What y e particular woordes of this Bill were is 
 vncertaine ; onlye it beinge subscribed w th a Seruus tibi deuotissi- 
 mus, H. Swinarton — the Prince pervsinge it, was heard to say, 
 Seruus tibi deuotissimus ! et tanta queer it ? Are his woordes so 
 lowely, and his request so highe ? — Yet it beinge further prest for 
 him by y e whole Councell, who pleaded that it came vnto him by 
 a kinde of right, and lineall descent, for that his chamb~ was di- 
 rectly vnder the Librarye and joyninge to y e Cloysters, y e Prince 
 at length graunted y e request, and his title was p sently drawne by 
 y e Clarke of y e Councell-table, and pronounced in maner fol- 
 lowinge 
 
 The right Honorable Henery L rd Swinarton Earle of Cloister- 
 Sheer, Barron of y c Garden, cheife M r of y e Presse, and ouer- 
 seer of y e Princes great Library hath for his subordinate officers, 
 M r William Rippin, Surveior of y e Walkes. 
 
 M r Christopher Riley, Corrector of y e Printe. 
 
 From this time forward, and not before, the Prince was thought 
 fully to be enstalde, and y e forme of gouernement fully esta- 
 blished, in-so-much that none might or durst contradict any 
 thinge w ch was appoynted by himself, or any of his Officers. 
 
 The Holy-Dayes beinge now at hand, his priuye-chamb"' was 
 prouided and furnisht, wherein a chayre of state was placed vpon 
 a carpett w 11 ' a cloth of state hangde ouer it, newly made for y e 
 same purpose. On Christsmas day in y c morninge he was at- 
 
24 
 
 THE MANNOUR OF THE PRINCES SERVICE. 
 
 tended on to prayers by y e whole companye of y e Bacchelours, 
 and some others of his Gentlemen Vshers, bare before him. At 
 diner beinge sett downe in y e Hall at y e high table in y e Vice* 
 President’s place (for y e President himself was then allso psent) 
 hee was serued w* 20 dishes to a messe, all w ch were brought in 
 by Gentlemen of y e Howse attired in his Guard’s coats, vshered 
 in by y e L rd Comptroller, and other Officers of v e Hall. The first 
 messe was a Boar’s Head, w was carried by y e tallest and lustiest 
 of all y e Guard, before whom (as attendants) wente first, one at- 
 tired in a horseman’s coate, w th a Boars-speare in his hande, next 
 to him an other Huntsman in greene, w th a bloody faucion drawne; 
 next to him 2 Pages in tafatye sarcenet, each of y em w* a messe 
 of mustard ; next to whome came hee y* carried y e Boares-head 
 crost w th a greene silke Scarfe, by w ^ hunge y e empty Scabbard 
 of y e faulcion w ch was carried before him. As y ei entred y e Hall, 
 He sange this Christmas Caroll, y e three last verses of euerie 
 Staffe beinge repeated after him by y e whole companye : 
 
 1. The Boare is dead, 
 
 Loe, heare is his head, 
 
 What man could haue done more 
 Then his head of to strike, 
 
 Meleager like, 
 
 And bringe it as I doe before ? 
 
 2. He liuinge spoyled 
 Where good men toyled, 
 
 Which made kinde Ceres sorrye; 
 
 But now dead and drawne, 
 
 Is very good brawne, 
 
 And wee haue brought it for y u . 
 
 3. Then sett downe y e Swineyard, 
 
 The foe to y e Vineyard 
 
 Lett Bacchus crowne his fall, 
 
 Lett this Boares-head and mustard 
 Stand for Pigg, Goose & Custard, 
 
 And so y u are Wellcome all. 
 
THE PRINCES SERVICE & ATTENDAUNCE. 
 
 25 
 
 At this time, as on all other Holy-Dayes, y e Princes allowed 
 Musitions (w ch were sent for from Readinge, because o r owne 
 Towne Musick had giueh vs the slipp, as y ei vse to doe, at that 
 time when wee had most need of them) played all Diner time, 
 and allso at Supper. The Prince as ofte as hee satt in y e Hall 
 was attended on by a Comoner, and Scholler of y e Colledge in 
 tafaty Sarcenett. After Supp r there was a private Showe per- 
 fourmed in y e maner of an Interlude, contayninge the order of y e 
 Saturnalls, and shewinge the first cause of Christmas-Candles, and 
 in the ende there was an application made to the Day, and Na- 
 tiuitie of Christ, All w ch was perfourmed in maner followinge : 
 
 SATURNALIA. 
 
 HERCULES. 
 
 CURIUS. 
 
 DOULUS. 
 
 ###*### 
 
 This shew w r as very well liked of our selves, and the better; 
 ffirst, because itt was the voluntary service of a younge youth; — 
 nexte, because there were no straungers to trouble vs. 
 
 S‘. Steevens day was past over in silence, and so had S l . John’s 
 day also; butt that some of the Princes honest neighbours of S l . 
 Giles’s presented him with a maske or morris, w ch though it were 
 but rudely performed, yet itt being so freely 8c lovingly profered, 
 it could not but bee as lovingly received. 
 
 The same nighte, the twelve daies were suddenly, and as it were 
 extempore, brought in, to offer their service to the Prince, the 
 holy-daies speaking Latine, and the working-daies English, the 
 transition was this : 
 
 Yee see these working-daies they weare no satten, 
 And I assure you they can speake no Latten ; 
 
 But if you please to stay a-while, 
 
 Some shcpheard for them will chaunge the style. 
 
26 
 
 ST. STEEVENS DAY; ST.JOHNS DAY. 
 
 After some few daunces the Prince, not much liking the sporte 
 (for that most of them were out both in there speeches and mea- 
 sures, having but thought of this devise some few houres before) 
 rose, & lefte the hall, after whose departure, an honest fellow to 
 breake of the sportes for that night, and to void the company 
 made suddenly this Epilogue 
 
 These daunces were pform’d of yore 
 By many worthy Elfes, 
 
 Now if you will haue any more 
 Pray shake your heeles your selues. 
 
 The next day being Innocents day, it was expected, & partly 
 determined by o r selues, that the Tragedy of Philomela should 
 haue bene publikely acted, w ch (as wee thought) would well haue 
 fitted the day, by reason of the murder of Innocent Itis. But the 
 carpenters being no way ready w th the stage, or scaffolds (whereof 
 notwithstanding some were made before Christmas, wee were 
 constrained to differre it till the nexte day, w ch was the 29 of 
 December. 
 
 At which time in the morning M r . President, sending for one 
 of y e deanes, to know whether all thinges were in a readines, it 
 was aunsweared that the Prince him selfe, who was to play Tereus, 
 had gott such an exceeding cold, that it was impossible for him 
 to speake, or speaking to bee heard. Wherefore they consulted 
 to differre the acting of it yet longer, but then considering that 
 all the straungers were already invited, and all other thinges in 
 readines, that was not thought so fitt. And therefore casting 
 againe in there minds what might bee done, many courses were 
 thought vpon, but all disliked ; att length itt was concluded fin 
 case the Prince should not hould out) that then the Authour of 
 the Tragedy, who was best acquainted with it, & could say most 
 of the verses, should goe forward, where the Prince was con- 
 strained to leave, and to that purpose both were ready in apparell, 
 and therefore for the better conveiaunce fowre verses were thought 
 vpon to be said by the Prince att the end of the first Sceane of 
 the second acte. The verses were these : 
 
NDUCTIO PHILOMEL®. 
 
 27 
 
 Terea tyrannum pace Fortunae exuo 
 Elinguis esse pergo Fortunae * modo, 
 
 Sic muta sequitur poena, pro muto malo 
 Suffectus alius Tereus placeat precor. 
 
 This conceipte was soe well liked of all them that heard of itt, 
 that manye sayde that itt was pitty itt w r as not put in practise 
 though there were noe need of itt, but yet for all that, wee 
 thought plaine dealing better then a cunning shifte. 
 
 Now for that itt was thought not to stand with the prince’s 
 state, barely to bee an actor w th others, itt was contriued that hee 
 should first enter like himselfe, w th his traine, and so take his 
 chaire as the chiefe spectator, and then Fortune his only patron- 
 esse, should appeare and find faulte with his still looking on, and 
 doeing no thing himselfe, wheruppon bothe for the more solem- 
 nity should take vppon them to bee actors in the ensueing tragedy, 
 all w ch was pformed in manner followeing 
 
 INDUCTIO FORTUNE. 
 
 Ingred . primo Princeps cum nobilibus f satellitibus et reliqua 
 pompa: omnes togati sedent. Dum Musica pulsatur, ingred . 
 ad eos Fortuna librum manu gestans, cum Sacerdote pra- 
 euntej Fortuna prccfatur : 
 
 Fort. Et quid togata porro majestas parat? 
 
 Amphictyoneos nempe concessus ? nouo 
 Mundo studetur? iste concilio dies? 
 
 Quin surge, regni, surge possessor breuis, 
 
 Concilia vanas quam diu nectent moras ? 
 
 In actionem prodeant, reges noui 
 Priscos agant ; persona succrescit recens, 
 
 Concilia, mores, facta priscorum manent. 
 
 Sortire nostra pagina historiam tuam 
 Vt sortientem dirigain, est magnum nefas. 
 
 Sortire; quid fit? 
 
 Princeps sorte legit paginam et in Historiam Terei incidit. 
 
 * Philomela \ 
 
28 
 
 PHILOMELA. 
 
 Princ. Terei nomen lego. 
 
 Fort. Exuite vestras turba praegrauior togas. 
 
 Omties togas exeunt , et parati ad scenarn apparent. 
 
 Vel ipsa velum porro deducam meum, 
 
 Oculis apertis vt meas partes agam. 
 
 Dextra reposui jam rotam pedibus globum 
 Se quisque tristes particeps scenae paret 
 Suam dolores, et voluptatem ferunt. 
 
 Vobis cauete, merita distinguo suuin 
 Cuiq; iuste diuidam ingenuis probis, 
 
 Doctisq; amorem : non boni spretos sciant. 
 
 Exeunt omnes. In cathedra principis coronam et sceptrum 
 relinquentes : ne sedes prorsus vacaret , mox singuli ad ac- 
 tionem prodeunt. 
 
 PHILOMELA. 
 
 TEREUS, REX THRACIiE. 
 
 PROGNE, REGINA, UXOR TEREI. 
 EUGENES, A CONSILIJS TEREI. 
 PHAULUS, SERUUS TEREI. 
 
 TRES SOCII TEREI A CLASSE. 
 ANCILLA PROGNES. 
 
 PHILOMELA, SOROR PROGNES. 
 ITIS, F1LIUS PROGNES ET TEREI. 
 ANCILLA PHILOMELA. 
 FAUSTULUS, PASTOR REGIUS. 
 FAUSTULA, P ASTORIS FILIA. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 TERRA. 
 
 MARE. 
 
 *#****###*# 
 
PHILOMELA. 
 
 29 
 
 At the end of this tragedy, when Fortune and the Prince were 
 ready to enter the stage, it was remembred that there was never 
 an epologue to dismisse the company, and therefore suddenly this 
 one verse was made and put in Fortune’s mouth to speake 
 
 Et si ista placeant vel Deae plausum date. 
 
 And so this begging of a plaudity for a God sake seru’d for 
 other compliment which was not mist, because it was thought no 
 more was intended. 
 
 The whole play was wel acted and wel liked, the princes voyce 
 held out wel, but the best and most judicious poet sayd in merry- 
 ment that there was one great fault, and that was the losse of 
 Philomelas voyce, who (as long as the history gave her leave to 
 speake) spake so sweetly and acted so smothly that the audience 
 could have found in their hartes that the story should have rather 
 beene falsified then so good a voyce lost. But it pleased us well 
 that they should rather desire to heare more than bee weary of 
 that which they hard. 
 
 Itis was much wondered at for speaking Lattin because he was 
 so little in his long coates, that hee was taken to bee but a child 
 of 7 or 8 yeares ould. 
 
 Other accidents were observed, as the fall of the prince, which 
 was so great that they sayd hee stood like a prince and fell like a 
 prince ; majesticke in the one and terrible in the other. 
 
 New-yeares eue was wholy spent in preparation for the princes 
 triumphs, so that nothing was done or expected that night. 
 
 Next day in the morning (beeing new-yeares-day) the prince 
 sent M r Richard Swinnerton one of the Squires of his body to M r 
 Prajsident with a paire of gloves, charging him to say nothing but 
 these two verses : 
 
 The prince and his councell, in signe of their loves, 
 
 Present you their Prsesident with these paire of gloves. 
 
 There was some what elce written in the paper which covered 
 them, but what it is uncertaine. 
 
30 
 
 TIMES COMPLAINT. 
 
 At night were celebrated the princes triumphs, at which time 
 onely and never before nor after he was carry ed in full state from 
 his pal lace to the hall, where in the sight of the whole vniuersity 
 a supplication was presented unto him by Time and seconded 
 with a shew call’d Times Complaint , which wee should bee ashamed 
 heere to insert, if wee thought it would please no better in the 
 reading then it did in hearing, but (bee it as it will) wee entend 
 the worse should bee knowne as well as the best, though, to speake 
 the truth without boasting, wee our selves thought not so ill of it 
 as others, nether will future times wee hope judge it so vile as the 
 present did : howsoeuer it was perform’d in manner and forme 
 following : 
 
 TIMES COMPLAINT. 
 
 TIME. 
 
 VERITAS, THE DAUGHTER OF TIME. 
 
 OPINION 7 
 
 > SEDUCERS OF VERITAS. 
 
 ERROR > 
 
 STUDIOSO, A SCHOLLER. 
 
 MANCO, A LAME SOULDIOUR. 
 
 CLINIAS, A POORE COUNTRY-MAN. 
 
 HUMPHRY SWALLOW, A DRUNKEN COBLER. 
 
 GOODWIFE SPIGGOT, AN ALE-WIFE. 
 
 PHILONICES, A RANGLING LAWYER. 
 
 SERUUS PHILONICES. 
 
 BELLICOSO, A CASHEERE CORPORALL. 
 
 PROLOGUE* 
 
 W orthelie heere wee bring you Times Complaint 
 Whom wee haue most iust cause for to complaine of, 
 
 For hee hath lent vs such a little space 
 
 That what wee doe wants much of its true grace. 
 
 Yet let your wonted loue that kindelie take, 
 
 W ch wee could wish w r ere better for your sake. 
 
 * This portion is inserted to introduce the Prince's Triumphs, as they are termed. 
 
THE PRINCES TRIUMPHS. 
 
 31 
 
 Enter Time w* h the Musicians to place them . 
 
 Time. O wellsaid, wellsaid ; Wellcome, Wellcome, faith! 
 
 It doth mee good to see 1 haue some friends. 
 
 Come, true obseruers of due time, come on : 
 
 A fitt of musicke, but keepe time, keepe time 
 In your remembrance still, or else you iarre : 
 
 These for my sake to much neglected are. 
 
 The world tearmes them beggars, fid ling roagues, 
 
 But come my fidling freinds, I like you well, 
 
 And for my sake I hope this company, 
 
 Naie more the Prince himselfe, will like your tunes. 
 
 Here take your place and shew your greatest skill, 
 
 All now is well that is not verie ill. 
 
 Time expecting the comming of the prince (to whom hee 
 preferreth a petition ) placeth himselfe on the stage till 
 the traine hee past. 
 
 This waie hee comes, here will I place my selfe, 
 
 They saie hee is an honourable Prince, 
 
 Respectful!, curteous, liberall, and learnM : 
 
 If hee bee soe hee will not choose but heare mee. 
 
 Poore aged Time was neuer so abusde, 
 
 And in theise daies Princes themselues are wrongd. 
 
 If not for my sake, yet for his owne good, 
 
 Hee will read ouer my petition. 
 
 Oft hath the like beene drawne and giuen vp 
 
 To his nobilitie ; But carelesse they 
 
 In theire deepe pockets swallow good mens praiers. 
 
 This his owne hand shall haue, or I will keepe it : — 
 
 But here they come, stand close and veiwe the traine. 
 
 Enter first six Knighte Marshalls men in sutable liueries 
 with links and truncheons two by two. 
 
 Next the Knighte Marshall alone in armour and bases 
 with a truncheon. 
 
 Then fower other of his men as before. 
 
 After these fower Knightes in rich apparell with hats and 
 feathers, rapiers and daggers, bootes and spurres, euerie 
 
32 
 
 THE PRINCES TRIUMPHS. 
 
 one his Lackie attending one him with torch-lighte, 
 all two by two. 
 
 After these the M r of the Requests, the M r of the Robes 
 in vaste veluet gownes with lackies and torches before 
 them. 
 
 After these fower Barons in veluet cloakes likewise at- 
 tended with lackies and torches. 
 
 After these an Herald at Armes bare, with two lackies 
 attendant bearing torches. 
 
 After these six of the priuie Counsell in Schollars gownes 
 and ciuill hoods euerie one attended on by a footman 
 bearing on his iacket both behind and before his lords 
 armes according to his office (as it is before mentioned) 
 with torches alsoe in theire hands. 
 
 After those two sergeants at armes with great Maces and 
 two Squiers before them with torches, all bare. 
 
 After these two hencli-men the one with a sword, the 
 other with a scepter, likewise attended by two Squires 
 with torch lighte, all bare. 
 
 After these the Prince himselfe in a schollers gowne and 
 ciuill hood, w T ith a coronett of laurell about his hat, 
 attended on by fower footmen in sutable liueries with 
 torches. 
 
 After these the Captaine of the guard alone in hose and 
 dublett, hatt and feather etc. and following him, 
 twenty of the guard in sutable guard's coats w T ith hal- 
 berds in their hands, and lightes intermingled here 
 and there. 
 
 When this traine first entred out of the Princes palace there was 
 a volye of shotte to the number of fiftie or threescore gunnes and 
 once againe as it passed through the quadrangle, and the third time 
 when the Prince was readie to enter vppon the stage in the hall, 
 after w ch third peale ended, the nobilitie hauing past along some 
 parte of the stage, the rest of the traine disposed in places pro- 
 uided for them, and the Prince himselfe newlie entred, the showe 
 went forward. 
 
OUR DISAPPOINTMENT. 
 
 33 
 
 #*##*###*## 
 
 It hath beene observed if they which performe much in these 
 kinde of sportes must needs doe something amisse, or at the least 
 such is the daunger and trouble of them, that something in the 
 dooing will miscarry, and so bee taken amisse, and such was our 
 fortune at this time ; for the Prologue (to the great prejudice of 
 that which followed) was most shamefully out, and having but 
 halfe a verse to say, so that by the very sence the audience was 
 able to prompt him in that which followed, yet hee could not goe 
 forward, but after long stay and silence, was compelled abruptly 
 to leave the stage, whereupon, beeing to play another part, hee 
 was so dasht, that hee did nothing well that night. 
 
 After him Good-wife Spiggot comming forth before her time, 
 was most miserably at a non plus 8c made others so also, whilst 
 her selfe staulked in the middest like a great Harry-Lion (as it 
 pleased the audience to terme it), either saying nothing at all, or 
 nothing to the purpose. 
 
 The drunken-man, which in the repetitions had much pleased 
 and done very well, was now so ambitious of his action, that he 
 would needs make his part much longer then it was, and stood so 
 long upon it all, that hee grew most tedious, whereuppon it was 
 well obserued and sayd by one that 
 
 ’twas pitty there should bee 
 
 In any pleasing thing satiety. 
 
 To make up the messe of absurdity es the company had so fild 
 the stage, that there was no rome to doe any thing well, to bee 
 sure many thinges were mistaken and therefore could not but bee 
 very distastfull, for it was thought that particuler men were aym- 
 ed at, and deciphered by the drunken-man, and Justice Bryar, 
 though it was fully knownc to our-selves, that the author had no 
 such purpose. 
 
 In fine, expectation the deuourcr of all good indeuours had 
 swallowed more in the very name and title of the interlude, then 
 was ether prouided or intended in the whole matter, for wee onely 
 
 F 
 
34 
 
 THE PRINCES RETURN. 
 
 proposed to our selves a shew, but the toune expected a perfect 
 and absolute play, so that all things mett to make us unhappy 
 that night, and had not Time him selfe (whose lines and actions 
 were thought good) somewhat pleased them, they would never 
 haue indured us without hissing, howsoeuer in the end they gaue 
 us two or three cold plaudites though they departed no way satis- 
 fyed, unlesse it were in the shew about the quadrangle, wherein 
 the prince was carryed to his chamber in the same state that hee 
 came from thence in the beginning (as is above mentioned), the 
 whole company of actors beeing added to his traine who immedi- 
 atly followed him before the guard in this order : 
 
 Pirst Time alone, attended with two pages and lightes. 
 
 Next Veritas alone, likewise attended. 
 
 Then Error and Opinion which all the way they went pull’d 
 Veritas by the sleeue, one by one and the other by the 
 other, but shee would not harken to them. 
 
 After these came Studioso and Philonices both pleading the 
 case, one upon his fingers and the other with both his hands. 
 
 Then came Manco, the lame souldiour and Philonices his 
 man; the souldiour haulting without his cruch, the other 
 beating him with the cruch for counterfeyting. 
 
 After these came Clinias and Bellicoso houlding the halter 
 betwixt them, which Bellicoso had found in Clinias his 
 pocket. 
 
 Last after these came Humphry Swallow and goodwife Spig- 
 got, hee reeling uppon her, she pulling and hayling him 
 for the money he ought her. 
 
 After these came the guard as before, and so the prince in 
 full state was conveyed to his pallace. 
 
 Here wee were all so discouraged that wee could haue found in 
 our heartes to have gone no farther. But then consulting with 
 our selues wee thought it no way fitt to leave when thinges were 
 at the worst, and therefore resolved by more industry and better 
 care of those things which should follow, to sue out a fine of re- 
 couery for our credites. Whereuppon the comedy which was 
 
THE BILL OF EXPENCES. 
 
 35 
 
 already a foote and appoynted to bee done on 12 day, wasrevew- 
 ed and corrected by the best judgments in the house, 8c a Chorus 
 by their direction inserted, to excuse former faults, all which 
 was a cause that twelfe eue 8c twelfe day past away in silence, be- 
 cause the comedy beeing wholy altered could not bee so soone 
 acted, neyther could any other thing bee so suddenly provided to 
 furnish those nights. 
 
 Heere the Lord-tresurer made a complaint to the king and the 
 rest of his councell that his treasure was poore and almost exhaust- 
 ed, so that without a fresh supply or new subsedy nothing more 
 could bee doone. And that this might not seeme an idle com- 
 plaint, a bill of some of the particulars and cliiefe expences was 
 exhibited, wherein it might appeare how costly the presedent 
 revels had beene, which bill (for better direction and warning of 
 others heere after how they medle with such sportes) was thought 
 good heere to bee inserted. 
 
 THE BILL OF EXPENCES. 
 
 lib. 
 
 Imprimis for 40 dozen of linkes - - - - 4 
 
 Item for 10 dozen of torches ----- 4 
 
 Item for one dozen of great waxe tapers - - 0 
 
 Item for a shute of tawny tafety for the prince 4 
 Item for a goune for Philomela - - - - 3 
 
 Item for 80 yardes of flannel for the guardes 
 coates - -- -- -__---_5 
 
 Item for buckarum to make Jackets for lackeys 
 8 c other necessaryes to the number of 40 
 yardes - -- -- -- -- -- - 1 
 
 Item for two long womans heyres - - - - l 
 
 Item for beardes and mens heades of hey re - 0 
 
 Item for fethers, spangles, roses, etcajt. - - 1 
 
 Item for a coate for Jtis - -- -- -- 0 
 
 Item for 2 hundred Yardes of Incle - - _ 0 
 
 Item for 4 thousand of pinnes ----- 0 
 
 Item for past-boardcs - -- -- -- - 0 
 
 s. d. 
 10 0 
 10 0 
 15 0 
 
 0 0 
 0 0 
 
 6 8 
 
 13 4 
 0 0 
 13 0 
 10 0 
 13 4 
 8 4 
 3 0 
 8 0 
 
36 THE BILL OF EXPENCES. 
 
 Item for councellours staues and white wandes 1 0 0 
 
 Item for blew silke ribbens and Jewells - - 0 12 0 
 
 Item for buskins and pomps ------ 1 1.0 
 
 Item for the princes seale ------ 0 68 
 
 Item for waxe - -- -- -- -- -0 34 
 
 Item for a sett of musitians entertayned for 
 
 the 12 dayes - -- -- -- -- -5 00 
 
 Item for a trumpeter - -- -- -- - 1 00 
 
 Item for the painter - -- -- -- -3 10 0 
 
 Item to the Taylours, besides dyet - - - 2 0 0 
 
 Item to the Carpenters for setting up the stage 
 
 scaffolds twise and lending boardes etcett. - 5 0 0 
 
 Item for nayles - -- -- -- -- 1 00 
 
 Item aloud the prince for his table besides 
 
 guiftes and his owne great charges - - - 2 0 0 
 
 Item aloud for actors suppers beside that was 
 
 giuen - -- -- -- -- -- -3 00 
 
 Item for butter beere at severall times - - 1 0 0 
 
 Item for Thomas Clarke for his journey to 
 
 London - -- -- -- -- -- 0 13 4 
 
 Item for diuers others for journeys for apparell 0 12 0 
 
 Item for guiftes and gratuities - - - - - 1 10 0 
 
 Item for taking downe glasse windoes and 
 mending others which were broken at seue- 
 rall times - -- -- -- -- -- 3 00 
 
 Item for hyering of apparell, vizards, cottens, 
 
 etcagt. - .- -- -- -- -- -2 10 0 
 
 Item pay’d to labourours for remouing the 
 snow, for stuffing the hall windoes, & such 
 like offices at sundry times -----0 160 
 
 Summa totalis lxiiij 11 v s o 
 
 This bill beeing seene and allow’d, they begane to cast about 
 for more mony, whereuppon a new privy seale was drawn in 
 Latin in manner and forme following: 
 
NEW PRIVIE SEALES SENT FORTH. 
 
 37 
 
 Cum maximorum semper Principum majestati neutiquam of- 
 fecerit, quod amicos plures, eorumq > operam et subsidium non 
 semel desiderarint; cumq > nobilissimus quisq. peculiari quodam 
 priuilegio plurimum debere consueuerit : Ego, ne in minimo 
 majestatis titulo deficere, aut quovis nobilitatis priuilegio vide- 
 rer non frui plurimis impulsus angustijs et coactus, (quas nec 
 pro more Principum explicare satis honorificum aut officio tuo 
 exquirere judicamus satis tutum) has ad te mitto literas manda- 
 torias, quarum virtute exigitur summa pecuniae, quam extern- 
 plo nostro huic collectori, pro amoris tui ratione et censu ex- 
 hibebis. Quam quidem tibi aut haeredibus tuis obligo me et 
 successores meos ad Graecas Calendas fidelitur sine omni fraude 
 aut dolo malo persoluturos. Datum et sigillatum sigillo nostro 
 priuato, ex aul£i Candida Albae Fortunatae, Calendis Februarij, 
 Anno Regni primo. 
 
 The name of those which were serued with this writte and 
 obey'd uppon the receipt of it were these that follow . 
 
 M r Praesident contributed - - - l 15 0 0 
 
 M r Thomas May - - - - - 1 00 
 
 M r Iohn Soane ------ 0 100 
 
 M r Martin Oakins - - - - - 0 10 0 
 
33 
 
 SOMNIUM FUND ATORIS. 
 
 M r William Lawde -----0 100 
 
 M r Richard Andros - -- -- 0 100 
 
 M r Nicholas ClifFe - -- -- 0 100 
 
 M r Michael Boyle - -- -- 0 10 0 
 
 Summa totalis 5 llb 
 
 This beeing not as yet sufficient there was a new subsedy levyed 
 by the Junior M re and the rest of the Colledge to the Summe of 
 Six poundes three shillings whereuppon finding themselues againe 
 before hand, and resoluing to saue nothing for a deere yeare, they 
 proceeded to new expences and new troubles. 
 
 The Suneday after, beeing the last day of the Vacation and 
 tenth day of the moneth, two shewes were priuately performed in 
 the Lodging, the one presently after dinner called Somnium Fun - 
 datoris , viz. the tradition that wee have concearning the three 
 trees that wee have in the praisident his garden. This interlude 
 by the reason of the death of him that made it, not long after was 
 lost, and so could not bee heere inserted ; but it was very well 
 liked, and so wel deserued, for that it was both wel penned and 
 well acted. 
 
 Now because before were diuers youths whose voyces or per- 
 sonages would not suffer them to act any thing in publicke, yet 
 withall it was thought fitt, that in so publicke a buisnes, euery 
 one should doe some thing, therefore a mocke play was prouided 
 called The 7 Dayes of the frVeeke, which was to bee performed by 
 them which could do nothing in earnest, and, that they should 
 bee sure to spoyle nothing, euery mans part was sorted to his 
 person, and it was resolued that the worse it was done, the better 
 it would be liked, and so it fell out ; for the same day after supper 
 
THE SEVEN DA YES OF THE WEEKE. 
 
 39 
 
 it was presented by one which bore the name of the Clarke of S* 
 Gyleses, and acted priuately in the lodging in manner & forme 
 following. 
 
 THE SEUEN DAYES OF THE WEEKE. 
 INTERLOQUTORES 
 
 THE CLARKE OF St GYLESES. 
 
 MOONEDAY. 
 
 TUSEDAY. 
 
 WENESDAY. 
 
 THURSEDAY. 
 
 FRIEDAY. 
 
 SATTERDAY. 
 
 SUNEDAY. 
 
 NIGHT. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 A WOMAN. 
 
 A PAIRE OF SNUFFERS. 
 
 Enter the Clarke with all his Acteurs. 
 PROLOGUE . 
 
 Clarke. I am the poore, though not vnletterd, Clarke, 
 
 And these yo r subjects of S l Gyles his parishe, 
 
 Who in this officious season would not sharke, 
 
 But thought to greet your highnesse with a morrice. 
 Which since my riper judgement thought not litt, 
 They haue layd downe their wisedomes to my witt. 
 
 And that you might perceive (though seeminge rude) 
 Wee sauour somewhat of the Academie, 
 
 Wee had aduentur’d on an enterlude, 
 
 But then of actors wee did lacke a manye ; 
 
 Therefore we dipt our play into a showe, 
 
 Yet bigg enough to speakc more then wee knowe. 
 
40 
 
 THE SEVEN DAYES OF THE WEEKE. 
 
 The subject of it was not farr to seeke. 
 
 Fine witts worke mickle matter out of nifles .* 
 
 Nam’de it I haue Y e Seaven Dayes of y e Weeke , 
 
 Which though perchaunce graue heads may judge a 
 trifle, 
 
 Yet if their action answeare but my penninge, 
 
 Y ou shall heare that, that will deserve a hemminge. 
 
 To tell the argument, were to forstale 
 
 And sowre y e licquour of our sweete conceate ; 
 
 Here are good fellowes that will tell you all 
 When wee begin once, you shall quickely ha’te, 
 Which if your grace will grace with your attention, 
 You shall soone sounde the depth of our invention. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Enter Mundaye. 
 
 Munday . I Munday am, not he surnam’d the blacke 
 But any ordinarye one beside — 
 
 Clarke . Why, Jacke, Jacke, a pox on thee, come in and be 
 
 hang’d, 
 
 Night should haue come out first. Exeunt . 
 
 Enter Sunday-Night, cum Luna et alijs pertinentijs , walkes to 
 the farther end , there stayes , and then speakes. 
 
 Night. Peace, sad Musitions of y e silent night, 
 
 The dolefull Nightingall and dreadfull Owle; 
 
 With doggs shutt out of doores that cannot bite 
 Although they barke, and at my moonshine howle: 
 Now Night growes old, yet walkes here in his trap- 
 pinge 
 
 Till I) aye come catch him, as Mosse his gray mare, 
 nappinge. 
 
 Munday comes and heates him out. 
 
the seven dayes of the weeke, 
 
 41 - 
 
 Munday e. I Munday am, not he surnam’d the blacke, 
 
 But any ordinarye one besyde ; 
 
 Who though I carry Sunday on my backe, 
 
 Thinke not that I am to his girdle tyed, 
 
 For though his cost as myne I had as leefe vse, 
 
 Yet Munday cannot liue with Sunday es refuse. 
 
 Hither I come, directed by my paper. 
 
 To tell my name, and that’s already ended : 
 
 Then to sitt downe (which is as little labour) 
 
 I would that each man here were so befrended : 
 
 This oft my part is, but a little crumme 
 
 You shal heare more, when as more actors come. 
 
 Sedetj cum lucerna, fyc. 
 
 Enter Munday e-Night as before , then Tuesday beatinge him out. 
 
 Tzcesday . Avaunt blacke night, seest thou not Twesday morne 
 Do I not looke like Mars his minion ? 
 
 (Gentlemen, tis my parte to speake in scorne 
 To Munday-night, & not mine owne opinion) 
 
 For, for myne owne part (not to spoyle the play) 
 
 I like the night fair better then the day. 
 
 I come vnto you on a sleevelesse erraunde 
 To tell that Twesday is my name authenticke, 
 
 Farther to singe or say I haue no warraunt, 
 
 Mundayes commission and myne are Jdentieke; 
 
 For though wee came not hand in hand together, 
 You may well thinke we are both birds of a feather. 
 
 Sedet. 
 
 Enter Twesday night as before , then Wednesday beatinge him out. 
 
 Wednesday. The pilfringe herauld ofy c thunder-thumper 
 
 (1 hope these hard words doe not fright your senses 
 I sweare tis not our meaninge, gratious vmpeere, 
 
 To ravish you with showe of bad prajtcnses) 
 Gauemeiny name, which yet perchaunceyou know not, 
 Yet ’tis no riddle bound vp in a bow-knott. 
 
 G 
 
42 
 
 THE SEVEN DAYES OF THE WEEKE. 
 
 Thursday. 
 
 Friday . 
 
 Clarke. 
 
 Frydaye , 
 
 In Ember-weeks I putt on Frydayes bases, 
 
 And once a yeare my name begins with Ashe; 
 
 With many other pretty paraphrases 
 I could suspend you, yet figures are but trash. 
 
 My name is Wednesday, that’s the short and long, 
 Now I sitt downe, you shall heare more anon. 
 
 Sedet. 
 
 Enter Wednesday -night as before . 
 
 Now Thursday comes, of every weeke the middle, 
 
 As you may see by the standing of my stoole ; 
 
 Iocund I am and merry as a fiddle, 
 
 Perpetuall play-day for the boyes at schoole ; 
 
 A mortall enemy to fish and white meats, 
 
 My belly findes no ballast in such slight meats. 
 
 And had not Sunday come and kept his station 
 As Sunday did, I’had wip’t his nose of that’place, 
 
 For were I in his fine apparrellation, 
 
 I were as good as Sunday, that’s a flat case, 
 
 But I haue gone beyond my short commission, 
 
 Sitt downe, and make some vse of Sundayes cushion. 
 
 Sedet. 
 
 Enter Thursday -night as before. 
 
 I would not haue you load my backe with mocks 
 Though I come lade with river and sea fishes, 
 Perchaunce you’had rather haue each eele an oxe. 
 And so would I, but ’twill not come with wishes : 
 
 I am leane Friday, brought vpp in a Colledge, 
 That never made good meale vto my knowledge. 
 
 Stepp forth Clarke. 
 
 Nott till this yeare in truth a’nt please yo r L. 
 
 I had forgotten y* Christmas-day was on a friday. 
 
 Say on Frydaye. 
 
 Born was J in y e frosty winter quarter 
 
THE SEVEN DAYES OF THE WEEKE. 
 
 43 
 
 Nipt with y e cold, I haue ere since been hide’bounde, 
 
 I could leape through & through a nett workt garter, 
 Thinne as a wafer, hungry e as a tyed’hounde : 
 
 But though it please you thus to heare me tell’woes, 
 Yet I must speake no more t’ye then my fellowes. 
 
 Sedet. 
 
 Enter Fryday-night as before. 
 
 Saturdaye. Saturne (saytli M r Pond y e Alminakian) 
 
 Giues mee my name, looke there and you shall find it, 
 Which if you haue not, hee’le soone make you one 
 For the next yeere too, though this were behinde yett; 
 Take then this rule from his vnerringe science, 
 
 I am halfe holy-day by my alliance. 
 
 This is a little piece of Frydayes Jackett 
 (Friday surnam’d the good but once a yeare) 
 
 Who though perchaunce this weather hee may lack it 
 Yet I must ha’te to signifye my eheare, 
 
 Which is the same with fryday in each particle ; 
 
 To sitt downe when we have done is our first article. 
 
 Sedet. 
 
 Etiter Sat er day-night as before. 
 
 Sundaye. Long look’t for Sunday in his best apparell 
 Comes forth, both for to see and to be seene, 
 
 About which part though there were some small 
 quarrell 
 
 Yet priviledge of person made it myne; 
 
 For Sundaye spake not till a clarke had taught hir 1 
 And who should haue the best part but the author. 
 
 These six you see are all day-labourers, 
 
 Hindes y l scrape mony vpp for me (God send it) 
 
 * Ilic vel hac dies , a’nt please yo r lorPP. wee gramarians rsc it indifferently. 
 
44 
 
 THE SEVEN DAYES OF THE WEEKE. 
 
 Woman. 
 
 Night. 
 
 Sunday. 
 
 Which I at y c Alehouse mongst y e pipes & tabourers 
 Forgett how hard it came, and lightly spend it ; 
 
 I Sunday am, and you are all come hither 
 To see (o straunge) 1 two Sundayes met togither. 
 
 Now y* you know our names (great Prince) to make no 
 farther smoother, 
 
 Wee will goe forward with our shew, & talk to one 
 another. 
 
 And any one in gowne or cloake 
 Hath licence to put in his spoke. 
 
 Sunday sitts downe. 
 
 Enter a woman ( Chorus ) 
 
 A play without a woman in ’t 
 Is like a face without a nose; 
 
 Therefore I come that strife to stinte 
 Though I haue nought to say God knowes ; 
 
 And since I can no matter handle 
 
 Fie come sometymes to snuffe their candles. 
 
 ACT 2 
 
 Enter Night without his name. 
 
 Blacke night as black as any mourninge sable is 
 Comes for to prompt the Actors if they stumble, 
 
 For who can see what night doth say, or able is 
 To heare how night doth walke about & mumble. 
 Now any night, but when one goes away 
 l’le be the night belonginge to that day. 
 
 Now neighbour workidayes, for so you are tearmed. 
 Tell your graue eares I must, a straunge relation; 
 
 The yeare (you know) call’d Annus of vs learned 
 Consists of our rounde runninge corporation ; 
 
 And as we doe o r duetyes in our places, 
 
 The yeare hee makes better or worser faces. 
 
 1 Acted on a Sunday. 
 
THE SEVEN DAYES OF THE WEEKE. 
 
 4.5 
 
 Annus already hath found out some faults 
 That should be Friday es a doing, by description, 
 Which though the yeare winke at, you cannot halt 
 Before a cripple without some suspition 
 
 To prevent then, where faulty he findes you in, 
 
 By me hee warnes you of these scapes ensuinge. 
 First M r . Munday you are accused to be 
 A great ingrosser vpp of my best vittayles ; 
 
 You cannot worke i’th’ morne (a tricke of a loobye) 
 Cause Sunday stick yet by you (are these fitt tales?) 
 Make answer if you can, and whilest I stay b’ye 
 Speake each man for himselfe as well as may be. 
 Munday, Hold harte, hold buttons, or else I shall burst, 
 
 Hee that committs the fault doth call whoore first, 
 
 Do I for this rise vpp to make all quiett 
 Ere breake of day, & cover Sundayes riott ; 
 
 Do I make cawdles earely ere he stirre yet 
 And possett drinks to parboile his night’s surfeitt ? 
 And doth y e glutton, seinge howe I am payn’d here, 
 Grudge me a little of his cold remainder? 
 
 Now I see well vertue and good desart 
 Are lightly set by, & not worth a fart — 
 
 ( Clarke . I badd you putt in Sir reverence , but y e rime is swcete 
 
 enoughe.) 
 
 Well-meaninge Munday put for his manhood mickle 
 A hundred tymes at least in the Chronickle. 
 
 The birth-day vnto many noble Princes, 
 
 And good queene Hellen fairest of all wenches, 
 Accus’d by Sunday, and at such a time, 
 
 As but for Munday he would want a rime! 
 
 I that of seaven haue the eldest brothers callinge, 
 Am made a younger brother by the dawlinge. 
 
 Why say you not that Munday will bee drunke, 
 Keeps all vnruly wakes, & playes at trunkes, 
 
 a Times Complaint mislik/t by y c vulgar, acted on a Friday. 
 
46 
 
 THE SEVEN DAYES OF THE WEEKE. 
 
 Sundaye. 
 
 Yet putt these Sunday faultes vpon my hack, 
 Sunday will haue enough to fill a sack. 
 
 Kinde friends, ere l am gone a hundred paces, 
 This same may chaunce to bee one of your cases. 
 Therefore you shall doe wisely to consider 
 How these circumstances do hange togither, 
 
 For trueth herselfe if shee were brought in question 
 Could never answer every false suggestion : 
 Therefore Fie make no answeare, but deny all, 
 Vntill hee brings his tenne peny naile of tryall. 
 Mundaye you are a dangerous headed fellowe, 
 
 And well your witt serues for to worke } our tale ; 
 Yet must you giue me leaue that for to tell you 
 Wich was giuen me in charge, and not to rayle ; 
 
 I for myselfe am satisfied at full 
 
 And you may now be gone e’ne when you wull. 
 
 Munday. 
 
 Thus haue I done my part, yet here must stay 
 Till Munday-night come drive me hence away. 
 
 Munday-night comes and putts out his Candle, and beates him in. 
 
 Night. 
 
 Now observe you what night doth doe, 
 And to his hands bee heedfull, 
 
 For sleepie night hath no delight 
 To talke more then is needfull. 
 
 Clarke . 
 
 Night speaks no more, I am of Vertues faction, 
 
 The best of my part doth consist of action. 
 
 That Munday holdes his head downe on this fashion, 
 Corn’s by his stoopinge to his occupation ; 
 
 He is a thresher, & but for that one thinge 
 He might beseme to play before a Kinge, 
 
 For in pitty hee would make you weepe fiue winters 
 To see him thresh a passion into splinters. 
 
 Enter Chorus. 
 
 Chorus . 
 
 If any he so wise to aske, 
 
 Why I will not put off my maske, 
 
THE SEVEN DAYES OF THE WEEKE. 
 
 47 
 
 Make him this answer I beseech you 
 ’Tis least my beutye should bewitch you. 
 
 Now to beare all things scoller-like before vs 
 My candle-snuffinge shall serve for a chorus. Exit. 
 
 ACT 3 
 
 Sunday e. Indifferent Tuesday who could once imagine 
 
 Munday & Thursday could haue made you factious 
 Against these other three your spite to evagine. 
 
 As though that fish-day were a name so captious ; 
 Seekinge to sever and with wild inventions 
 Fire y e furrsfaggott of dissentions. 
 
 Yet were this nothinge if you were not noted 
 For a furtherer of Shrove-tydes drunken bouses, 
 Whom flickringe fame hath in her tables quoted 
 For pullinge downe of honest good whoorehouses, 
 
 But since y* in yo r knaveries you are tan’e, sir, 
 
 To make things short, goe on, sir, with yo r answer. 
 Tuesday. My freinds, would you were all naild vpp for socketts 
 If you will put your heads in Sundayes pocketts ; 
 Who'le be a servitour, if for each petty t fact 
 He shall be ever after credit crackt : 
 
 I that two and fifty times a yeare attend him, 
 
 Cannot be allowed one day my sports to spend in ; 
 Some badd mischaunces and haps accidentall 
 May one Tuesday fall, but never by him ment all ; 
 And for two or three shrewed turnes which are soone 
 numbred. 
 
 Of my good deeds lie reckon vp a hundred: 
 
 Bouzer I am not, but mild, sober Tuesday 
 
 As catt in cap case, if I light not on S* Hewsday ; a 
 
 Yet in my minde tis not vnfittinge neither 
 
 The gentle craft should licquer well their leather: 
 
 Now could I furnish all your expectations 
 
 With a longe speech of mine owne commendations, 
 
 * The Shoemakers holy-day. 
 
48 
 
 THE SEVEN DAYES OF THE YVEEKE. 
 
 But michinge modestie is such a clogge, 
 
 I shall blush at it streight like a black dogge. 
 
 Now setts the sunne, darke growes the day so lightsome, 
 
 He putts out his candle. 
 
 Yet must I stand still here vntill the night’s come. 
 
 Enter Night as before to Murid ape. 
 
 Sunday. This Tuesday is a Thatcher by his science, 
 
 That with this frost hath stood with long defiaunce ; 
 And holdes it fitt for Christian and for Turke 
 To be a player when he cannot worke. 
 
 Enter Chorus. 
 
 Chorus. Thus sceane by sceane, and stepp by stepp, 
 
 From act to act our showe doth leape, 
 
 And I come ever and anon 
 To tell how many Acts are gone; 
 
 Which are as many odd and even 
 
 As these fowre candles want of seauen. Exit. 
 
 ACT 4 
 
 Sunday. It was, and still will be, a thankelesse office 
 
 To tell men of their faults, though ne’re so palpable, 
 
 Yet in this case I’le not be made a novice 
 
 But speake my minde free if I see them culpable, 
 
 And therefore Wednesday rubbe up your best reasons 
 To quitt yourselfe of these suspected treasons. 
 
 You are a neutrall neyther syde affectinge, 
 
 Nor fish nor flesh, nor very good red herringe. 
 
 The doubtfull end of opposites expectinge 
 Leane to the strongest, till then never stirringe ; 
 
 You that by one dayes fast, by name Ashwednesday 
 Bate a man more then he hath gott in tenne dayes. 
 You are a pickthanke but come answer this first. 
 
THE SEVEN DAVES OF THE WEEKE. 49 
 
 Wednesday. W ednesday the wise, that would not touch edgde tooles. 
 For his not medlinge is now calld a foole. 
 
 Plaine dealing’s thought the bratt of silly follye, 
 
 And men must shuffle and cut now velle, nolle. 
 
 But peace, Detraction, thou base gruntinge curre, 
 
 If I moove once, Fie make a stinkinge stirre. 
 
 I haue but one sett fast in the whole yeare, 
 
 Put physically, next to belly cheare, 
 
 I’th’ Bacchanalls, yet am I sayd to famish 
 Men that are then fatt as capon cram’d is. 
 
 But hence away with troublesome devotion, 
 
 Fasting’s as bad as a poticaryes potion. 
 
 Had 1 his nimble wings whose name I carry, 
 
 Among such paltry fellowes I’de not tarry. 
 
 Sunday . Very like, for you haue his nimble fingers, such 
 
 Like birdlime that take vpp what ere they touch, 
 
 And honest you may be, yet some mens harde lucks 
 In Wednesday market lost their purse at Carefux. 
 Wednesday goes fuminge and stampinge vpp and downe, and Night 
 fetcheth him out ; then Sunday speakes. 
 
 Sunday. Perchaunce you looke that Wednesday should haue 
 spoken, but you must suppose that a man would be so 
 mooved with these objections that he would not speake 
 for anger. 
 
 By trade he’s a joyner & his part vnderstands, 
 
 And speaks well enough though he use not his hands. 
 
 E liter Chorus. 
 
 Chorus. If Wednesday spake here in his furious fitt, 
 
 No doubt you hard great store of little witt. 
 
 The fourth act’s done, they are short, & we most warye 
 Haue therefore made two more then ordinarye. 
 
 Play, Musicke, play, and hide so straunge a fact, 
 
 J (though a woman) silent am this act. Exit 
 
 H 
 
50 
 
 THE SEVEN DAYES OF THE WEEKE. 
 
 Sunday . 
 
 ACT 5. 
 
 Now my corrivall that with looks gainsayinge 
 Dost view my pompe, I speake not this in choller, 
 Thursday y’are idle, adle, ever playinge, 
 
 Vtter vndoer of a grammar-seholler. 
 
 Whose negligence (if I haue not heard a lye) 
 Maks Friday be so cruel], now replye. 
 
 Thursday . 
 
 That bagg that other mens defaults are put in 
 Wee beare before vs, ready still to looke in, 
 But nature was to blame, that in this kinde 
 
 Sundaye. 
 
 Made not an eye to see our owne behinde. 
 
 I, that in tender care and kinde compassion 
 Giue scollers leaue to play for recreation, 
 
 Am an idle fellowe, therefore I will waken 
 
 The sleepinge proverbe — Each thing ’s as tis taken. 
 
 Did y e old world dote, thinke you, or but dally e, 
 
 That grac’d me onely with the name of holye ?‘ a 
 That world which had as much skill in one finger 
 To judge of men, as fourty figure flingers. 
 
 But what an asse am J in tearmes praeciser, 
 
 To care what Sunday sayes, beinge no wiser? 
 
 These are but his devises to defame vs, 
 
 I will myselfe goe talke with Monsieur Annus. 
 
 Yes, so you maye; come, Night, dispatch him hence, 
 Annus will rattle him in an other sence. 
 
 This is the fellowe would haue playd my part, 
 Though neyther fitt by nature or by art. 
 
 Here is a taylour, but to tell would tyre one 
 Which is most goose, hee or his pressing iron ? 
 
 Enter Chorus. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Because the night hath many misty vapoures 
 Chorus hath care to keepe bright burninge tapours; 
 a Holy Thursday, Ascension Day. 
 
THE SEVEN DAYES OF THE WEEKE. 
 
 Sunday. 
 
 Friday. 
 
 n 
 
 Nor is that all, but least it might be wandringe, 
 
 To snuffe the light too of your vnderstandinge ; 
 
 If any speach haue past beyond your kenninge 
 Chorus, if she may knowe it, will tell the meaninge. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 ACT 6. 
 
 Ill favoured Friday, curs'd, bande, & defied 
 By all saue those that dwell by the sea-syde; 
 
 Fee’d by physitions that hate health and quiett, 
 
 To poyson nature with unholsome dyett 
 
 Of fish and rootes ; worse things then charme or philter 
 
 To put precisest bodyes out of kilter; 
 
 Your tricks are many, my witts so affrightinge 
 That I was faine to putt them downe in writtinge : 
 
 He delivers him a Paper. 
 All which doe shewe your spite vnto the land, 
 Settinge the sea vpon the vpper hand. 
 
 Though you are a Clarke, and I am but a ditcher, 
 You know not whether sea or land be richer 
 No more then I, therefore till that be tryed 
 The sea may stand sometymes on th’vpper syde. 
 
 And though there be of flesh as yett gods plentye 
 With other helpes, yet if of fish I graunt ye; 
 
 Flesh wilbe wasted so with often carveinge 
 
 That you may hang yourselves for feare of starvinge : 
 
 For other crimes whereof I am indighted, 
 
 If by my L. good patience I might reade, 
 
 I could in two or three words quite confute ’hem, 
 
 Or with as long an answeare quickely sute 'hem, 
 
 But ’twould be taedious your nice eares benumminge, 
 And Night you see looks for his que to come in. 
 
 Enter Friday-night as before. 
 
 Friday had finish t his part very nought’ ily. 
 
 Had he acted as bad as lie spake softly; 
 
5S 
 
 THE SEVEN DAYES OF THE WEEKE. 
 
 Chorus . 
 
 Paines I tooke with him, but though yo’r life you 
 should leese, 
 
 He will neuer speake lowder then a mouse in a cheese 
 Enter Chorus. 
 
 Behinde my backe you’le say anon, 
 
 That Chorus should speake Pro and Con; 
 
 But Common-sense will never suffer ’s 
 
 To speake for y e Candle against the snuffers. Exit. 
 
 Sunday. 
 
 ACT 7. 
 
 Now, Saturday, thinke not I beare any evill edge 
 Against your person, though I warne you stand fast, 
 Nor thinke, though you weare gay clothes, by an 
 Eeves priviledge, 
 
 prom y e wast downe-ward you shal be uncanvast. 
 Yes, though you were a man of silke and velvet, 
 Yet you shall heare your owne, if I can helpe it. 
 You euer were, and are still (by this hand) 
 
 A common taverne, alehowse hunter, marke it, 
 
 That drawe in simple countrey-fellowes, and 
 Send them home drunke that sober came to market, 
 And havinge but an egg before you sett fast, 
 
 Invite all batchelors of ars to break-fast. 
 
 Saturday. 
 
 Who is’t that knowes how neere we two areborderinge 
 Could thinke Sunday would shake me such a foddringc? 
 I am his Steward, and his carefull Caterer, 
 Gentleman-vsher and his yeoman fewterer : 
 
 Make his provision, but this is the spite on’t, 
 
 I buy good meate but never eate a bitt ont : 
 
 With carefull search I robb ponds, rivers, seas 
 Of fishe and foule, his dainty mouth to please, 
 
 Nor on y e land is that meat bee can wishe. 
 
 But Sunday finds it ready in his dishe, 
 
THE SEVEN DAYES OF THE WEEKE. 
 
 53 
 
 Yet for this am I banded as a ball is, 
 
 And pounded with the pestle of peevishnesse in y c 
 morter of malice. 
 
 ( Clark. Soft, & be bangd ; you have marrd a good verse :) 
 
 Service hath small reward, good turnes oft paine vs. 
 And still wee scorne the meane that doth maintaine vs. 
 I could reply to all, hut see no fittnesse 
 For vs to make more words without more wittnesse'. 
 
 A drowsy humour on me now encroachinge 
 Shewes melancholy night to bee approachinge; 
 
 And see, hee comes, S* Sol his owne eye closes, 
 
 Putts out his candle. 
 
 And I must sneake away vnder your noses. 
 
 Enter S at ur day -night as before . 
 
 Sunday. This is our pinders boy, sonne to a drover. 
 
 That cannot keepe his mouth from runninge over. 
 
 But Nature was mistaken, or did wrounge 
 In a mans head to put a womans tounge, 
 
 Yet next time, if my braynes their vertues holde, 
 
 I’le fitt him right, for he shall play a scolde. — 
 
 Hee calls aside . 
 
 Why, night, come & fetch mee away, you never 
 marke yo r Q. 
 
 Going out , returnes and speakes. 
 But yet to keepe our order right 
 You mustheare what hee is that playes this Night; 
 Though it neede not, for you may see, I wis, 
 
 He was made for a butcher, and so he is. 
 
 Chorus. As true as y e oracle at a place call’d Delphos 
 
 That vnknowne fortunes & darke dreames did tell folks, 
 So stand 1 here, and if ought want vnmaskinge 
 Speake quickely, this is y e last time of askinge, 
 
 And I may keepe my hands still in my muffe. 
 
 For heere is never a candle left to snuffe. 
 
54 
 
 THE SEVEN DAYES OF THE WEEKE. 
 
 Sunday. 
 
 Playe, Musicke, playe, though we liaue hewd 8c hact, 
 Yet let them all know, this is our last act. 
 
 This was a Quea’ster not to speake it in vauntinge 
 You may know’t by his voyce, but his maintenaunce 
 wantinge, 
 
 He would needs be a sawyer in any case 
 
 That still he might go by his rule, lyne, 8c space. 
 
 Hee ryses and speakes of himself e. 
 Should I not make this senselesse stoole too proude, 
 Pde dresse him in my clothes, set my light on him, 
 And then tell Sunday of his faults so loud 
 That y e bare walks here should crye out, fye on him : 
 But you would sweare my pate had need bee purged 
 If I should tell myne owne faults beinge not vrged. 
 
 I will not presse yo r patience with long talke, 
 
 I do not doubt you think I am not blamelesse — 
 
 To play thus on a Sunday is a fault 
 
 With many other which shall now bee namelesse. 
 
 For this I red once in a song I spied, 
 
 The fox though vnholy hath the grace to hide. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 Enter Clarke with the rest. 
 
 Great Prince and mighty monarch of this place, 
 The very capp of curtesy and kindnesse, 
 
 Thinke not we come to prayse you to your face, 
 For we would say as much were you behinde vs. 
 
 If we haue moov’d offence, I say, that If, 
 
 Let not your princely choller stand too stiff. 
 
 For Twas the hart-burninge of o r duety drove vs 
 To these our shifts of witt, now if your favour, 
 That runnes so fast 8c did to this worke moove vs. 
 Should with this nights cold sport bee frozen over, 
 Such an vnkinde cold might take vs at y e matter 
 That wee might loose our tongs for ever after. 
 
THE TERME PROROGUED. 
 
 55 
 
 But if the lanthorne of yo r Lordshipps love 
 Shall light vs home through y e mist of reprehension, 
 From y e distaffe of o r duetye we will proove 
 To draw a threed of a more fine invention : 
 
 And when your brayne, feeles any payne, 
 
 With cares of state & troubles, 
 
 We’el come in kindnesse to put your highnesse 
 Out of y r mumble fubbles. 
 
 Nothing throughout the whole yeare, was better liked and more 
 pleasant then this shewe, in so much that, alltliough it were more 
 priuately done before our selves onely or some few freinds, yet 
 the report of it went about all the towne, tell it came to the Vice- 
 chauncellours and my L. Cliffords eares, who were very desyrous 
 to see it acted againe, and so it was as heereafter shal bee spe- 
 cify ed. 
 
 The next day beeing Munday the 11 of January the terme 
 should have begun in the house, but because of the extreame cold 
 and froast which had now continued full six weekes and better 
 without any intermission as also by reason the hall was still pes- 
 tered with the stage and scaffolds which were suffered to stand 
 still in expectation of the Comedy, therefore it was agreed by the 
 President and the officers that the terme should bee prorogued 
 for 7 dayes longer in which time it was agreed the Comedy should 
 bee publickely acted on Frieday the 15 th day of January. 
 
 But heere the President and some of the Seniors in abundance 
 of care were affrayd to put any thing againe to the publicke view 
 of the Vniuersily, because their last paines at The Complaint of 
 Time had so ill thriuing. Besides the season was so seuere and tem- 
 pestuous with wind and snow, which had continued some dayes 
 without ceasing, and the complaint of the poore was so greiuious 
 for want of wood and meate, which by this time were growne very 
 scant and deere, that they urged it was a time rather to lament and 
 weeoe then make sports in, whereupon a streight inhibition was 
 
56 
 
 THE T EH ME PROROGUED. 
 
 sent out from the officers, that no man should thinke of playing 
 that night or any time after, tell the weather should breake up and 
 bee more temperate, for they thought it no way fitt puplickly to 
 revell at a time of such generall wo and calamity. 
 
 But yet because all thinges were in a readinesse and the expec- 
 tation of the whole toune was set uppon that night, the younger 
 men of the Colledge went forward with there buisnes, intending 
 to take no notice of what the officers had aggreed uppon, where- 
 fore some of the officers were fa} T ne to come in person to forbid 
 the worke-men, and to undo some things which were already 
 done, to the great greife and discouragment of all the youth, 
 who, though the weather was extreame cold, were themselues 
 most hotte uppon the matter in hand, resoluing now or neuer to 
 recouer their losse credit. 
 
 And, as though the heavens had favoured their designes, so it 
 happened that about noone the weather brake up and it begann to 
 thaw, whereuppon the President was agayne importun’d by the 
 prince himselfe and his councell for the performance of the Co- 
 medy that night; who (seeing they were all so earnest) did not so 
 much graunt, as not deny them, their request, whereuppon they 
 begann againe to sett forward the buisnes and what they wanted 
 in time, they made up by their willingnesse and paynes, so that 
 for all these crosses they begann the play before 7 a clocke and 
 performed it in manner following : 
 
THE TERME PROROGUED. 
 
 57 
 
 PHILOMATHES. 
 
 INTERLOQUTORES 
 CHORUS . 
 
 JANUS. 
 
 TEMPUS. 
 
 MOTUS. LOCUS. 
 
 QUIES. VACUUM. 
 
 PHILOMATHES. 
 
 CHRYSOPHILOS, SENEX AVARUS. 
 PHANTASTA, STOLIDUS GENEROSUS. 
 A <p£QytOf, FILIUS CHRYSOPHILI. 
 
 SOPHIA. 
 
 AUTARCHIA. 
 
 AUTHAD1 A. 
 
 ANJEA, MULIER INEPTA. 
 
 CHRESTOPHILOS, SOC1US PHILOMATHIS. 
 CRITO, SENEX, PATER SOPHIJE. 
 CRITONIS SERUUS. 
 
 CERDOOS, SERUUS CHRYSOPHILI. 
 PETINUS, SERUUS PHANTASTJE. 
 
 This play was very well acted, but especially the Chorus, the 
 stage was never more free, the audience neuer more quiett, and 
 contented, so that they went away many of them crieing — Abun - 
 dt satisfactum est ! itt was so well liked and applauded of all that 
 saw itt. 
 
 Here the stage & scaffold were pul’d downe w ch had stood from 
 Cristmas, and it was resolued that vpon the chaunge of the wea- 
 ther, the terme should begin on the Munday followeing. 
 
 But in the meane time on Sunday nighte, being the Seventeenth 
 of January, the Vicechancelor and the L. Clifford w lh many other 
 
 i 
 
THE TERM.E PROROGUED. 
 
 58 
 
 T>™ and Gentlemen were inuited to supper in the Presidents lodg- 
 ing, where after supper they were entertained with a shew before 
 mentioned, to witt, The 7 Dales in the W eel re, to which, by this 
 time, there was somewhat added, but not much : all was most 
 kindely accepted, and the nighte was spent in great mirth. For 
 the straungenes of the matter, and rarity of the fashion of their 
 action pleased above expectation. 
 
 At the end of this shew for the more rarity, there was one 
 brought in my Lord’s Stockes w th this speech made vppon itt : 
 
 “ My Lord, I w ch am the lowest, am now become the lowdest 
 though ( I hope) not the lewdest of your Lo^ 3 seruauntes. And 
 though I come pridie Calendas , before I am cald, yet (I hope) 
 my audacity shall have audience, and my faithfulnes fauor. I am 
 yo r Lorppes Elephaunt and heere is yo r castell, so that where 
 other Lords are brought to their castells, heere yo r castell is 
 brought to you. Est locus in carcere , there is a locke vpon yo T 
 Lorpp’s castell, which was committed vnto my trust, how faithfull 
 I have bene therein, they can tell wfio haue taken an exact mea- 
 sure of my office by the foote : the matter of w ch your castell is 
 budded is so precious, that there is none amongst company, but 
 is contented to weare of it w th in his buttons, the end for w ch it was 
 builded is very commendable, that they may bee kepte in order 
 w th wood, w ch otherwise wou’d not bee kepte in order, heere is 
 fons latus pedibus tribus , a fountaine to wash three mens legs, that 
 they w ch have bene aurium tenus , ouer shoes, heere may bee cru- 
 rum tenus over bootes too, This yo r Lor pps oracle or Tripos, out 
 of which malefactors tell the truth and foretell of their amend- 
 ment. Nay, I wilbee bould to compare it to yo r Lor pps braine, for 
 what is there designed is heere executed. In these sells or ven- 
 tricles are fancy, vnderstanding, and memory. For such as yo r 
 Lo^ doth not fancy are put in the first hole, such as were dull and 
 w th out vnderstanding were put in the second hole, but such as yo r 
 Lorp threatned (remember this) or I’le remember you, were put 
 in the last and lowest dungeon, cum nemini obtrudi potest itur ad 
 me. When they cannot bee ruled otherwise they are brought 
 vnto mee, and my entertainement is stralo discumbitur ostro , 
 
THE PRINCES INVITATION TO CHRISTCHURCH. 59 
 
 they straite sett downe att this oister table, where they are fast 
 and doe fast, ffor viuitur exiguo melius , they make small meales, 
 till the flames of clemency doe mitigate the Salamanders of yo r 
 Lorpp s severity. Now, my Lord, since I have told you what I 
 am, I will bee bold to tell you what you may bee — You are mor- 
 tall — Ergo you must die, the three sisters will not spare you, 
 though you were there owne brother, and therefore while you 
 have yo r good witts about you, fac quid vobis , make y r will, that 
 wee may know amongst so many well deseruing men, that doe lay 
 claime to this yo r castell, to whome as rightfull heire itt shall 
 lawfully descend, that so all controuersies being ended, before yo r 
 LorP ps deceasse, hereafter yo r bones may ly, and wee yo r sub- 
 jectes live, in all rest and quietnes. 
 
 Dixi.” 
 
 To make an end of this nightes sporte, all departed merry and 
 very well pleased, the actors were much commended, and the 
 terme for their sakes prorogued one day longer. 
 
 On the Thursday following the Prince was solemnely invited 
 by the Canons of Christchurch to a comedy called Yuletide , 
 where many thinges were either ill ment by them, or ill taken by 
 vs, but wee had very good reason to thinke the former, both for 
 that the whole towne thoughte so, and the whole play was a 
 medley of Christmas sportes, by w ch occasion Christmas Lords 
 were much jested at, and our Prince was soe placed that many 
 thinges were acted vpon him, but yet, M r deane himselfe, then 
 vice-chancelor, very kindly sent for the Prince and some others 
 of o r howse, and laboured to satisfie vs, protesting that no such 
 thing was mente, as was reported, whereupon wee went away 
 contented, and forbore the speaking of many things w ch other- 
 wise were afterwards intended, for aunswering of them in their 
 owne kind. 
 
 On Candlemas nighte it was thoughte by o r selves, and reported 
 in the Towne, that the Prince should resigne his place, but no- 
 thing being in a readines for that purpose itt was differed, but yet, 
 least nothing should bee done, there was a Vigilate (as they 
 
CO 
 
 A VIGILATE. 
 
 terme it) a watching nighte procured by the Prince and his Coun- 
 sell, and gra anted by the officers of the Colledge, w ch was pform- 
 ed in manner following. 
 
 THE VIGILATE. 
 
 First, about eighte of the Clocke (for then itt was to begin, 
 and to continue till fowre in the Morning) the Colledge gates were 
 shutt, and all the students summon’d by the sounding of a Trum- 
 pett three times, to make their psonall appearaunce in the greate 
 Hall, where after they were all come together, that the Princes 
 pleasure might bee the better knowne, this proclamation was 
 publikely pronounced by a Serjeant att Armes, in the hearing of 
 them all. 
 
 The high and mighty Thomas by the fauour of Fortune Prince of 
 Alba Fortunata, Lord S* Iohns, High Regent of the Hall, 
 
 To all Presidents, Vice Presidents, Officers, Readers, M”. 
 Batchelors, Felowes, Schollers, Commoners, Vnder-common- 
 ers, Seruaunts, Seruitors, sendeth greeting. 
 
 Whereas of late by the turbulent spirits of seditious minded psons 
 hath bene buzzed into the eares of many of our louing and liege 
 
A VIGILATE. 
 
 61 
 
 subjectes a fearefull and dangerous report of o r sudden downefall, 
 which according to their libelling speeches should att this nighte 
 fall vpon vs— Wee haue thought it necessary not so much for o r 
 owne feares w ch are none at all, as for satisfying and strengthen- 
 ing o r welmeaning freinds in their love and duty, to publish and by 
 these presents to all o r loyall subjects of what state and condition 
 soever, that they make their psonall appearaunce to the setting 
 and furnishing of a most strong guarde and carefull watch as 
 well for their security as the safety of o r owne royall pson, & the 
 whole Common-wealth; In the w ch generall watch for the better 
 comfort and ease of all men, o r selfe, w th o r honourable privy 
 counsell, and the rest of o r Nobility, intend to bee psonally 
 present. 
 
 But because wee are no w r ay minded to oppresse any man above 
 his power, on o r princely bounty, wee giue licence to such as (for 
 age or infirmity) are not able to pforme that duty, to forfaite for 
 their absence, yf they pleade age, ij s vj d ; if infirmity, xij d , to- 
 wards y e furnishing of his Highnes with a tall and sufficient 
 watchman. 
 
 Now because that w ch wee haue wisely thought, and for o r peace 
 and safety, may not prooue the cause of new troubles and dissen- 
 tions, wee haue thought good to adjoine some few cautions, in 
 way of admonitions to bee obserued. 
 
 First, for that the disorders of an vnruly and mutinous watch doe 
 often open as it were the gate of danger and outrage, o r princely 
 will and pleasure is, that each man keepe his station w th out 
 murmuring, pforming cheerefully all such offices and duties, as 
 shal bee lawfully enjoin'd by vs, or o r offices, vpon paine of 
 forfeiting ij # vj d , as for age. 
 
 Seacondly because sloth is a kind of disease in a well ordered 
 Common-wealth wee further charge and command by the ver- 
 tue of o r absolute authority, that no man bee found winking, or 
 pincking, or nodding, much lesse snorting, vpon paine of for- 
 faiting twelve pence as for infirmity. 
 
 Thirdly for the auoiding of a sudden dearth, or lingring famine 
 w dl may ensue and justly follow the free an vndoubted liberty 
 
G2 
 
 A VIGILATE. 
 
 of a riotous and luxurious time, yt is by vs thought necessary 
 that no man should in hugger mugger eate or drincke more 
 then is publickly seene and allowed by the face of the body 
 civill and politicke, vpon paine of paieing twise, for such is in 
 a manner stolne puision and the second pai mt to bee arbitrary. 
 
 Given att o r Mannor of Whites-hall the seacond of Fe- 
 bruary and in the first of o r Raigne. 
 
 This proclamation beeing read and set up in the great hall, the 
 prince called for his officers and seruants about him charging 
 every man carefully to execute his office. First the steward and 
 buttler(who for their auncient fidelity kept their places according 
 as they had long before beene appointed by the colledge) were 
 commaunded to bring their bookes, and by them to call up all 
 the howse whereupon (every one beeing first charged to awnswere 
 to his name) it presently appeared who were present and who 
 were absent. 
 
 After this the M r of the Revels and the Knight Marshall were 
 willed to appoint severall sportes that no man might bee seene 
 idle upon payne of the princes high displeasure whereupon pre- 
 sently some went to cardes, some to dice, some to dauncing, 
 every one to some thing. 
 
 Not long after, for more variety sake, there was brought in a 
 maske ; the devise was sudden and ex tempore, videl : a little page 
 attired in his long coats, with these six verses which were spoke 
 as soone as he entred the hall. 
 
 These are six carpet knights, and J one page 
 Can easily bring in six that bee of age, 
 
A VIGILATE. 
 
 63 
 
 They come to visite this your highnes court, 
 
 And if they can, to make your honour sport. 
 
 Nay this is all, for I haue seene the day 
 A richer maske had not so much to say. 
 
 After these maskers had finished the measures, and some few 
 other daunces, the said page waued them forth with his wan, and 
 spake these two verses : 
 
 There are three they say would shew you an an tick e, 
 
 But when you see them, you’l thinke them franticke. 
 
 Then there came in three in an anticke which were well at- 
 tyred for that purpose, and daunced well to the great delite of 
 the beholders. 
 
 After these had stollcn away one by one, as the manner is, it 
 pleased the prince to aske what was a clocke, it beeing aunswered 
 almost twelue hee presently call’d in for supper. But first the 
 bill of those which were before noted to bee absent was call’d, to 
 see whether any of them would yet appeare, and the prince would 
 deale favorably with them. It was also examined whether any of 
 those which were present before were now gon to bed, and ac- 
 cordingly authority was given by the prince to the marshalls of 
 the hall and other officers to search the chambers for sleepers, 
 and where they made aunswere to aske the reason of their sloth- 
 full neglect or wilfull contempt of the princes commaunds, and 
 if they pleaded ether infirmity or age to take there fine, and so 
 quietly to depart, first causing them faithfull to give their words 
 that they harboured no other idle or suspicious parsons. But if 
 they knoct at any of the chambers of those that were absent and 
 nobody would answer, then they had full authority to breake 
 open the dores and to make a privy search, and if they found any 
 abed they tooke them as they were in their shirts and carryed 
 them downe in state to the hall after this manner : 
 
 First went the marshals with lights to make room. 
 
 Then came on squire carrying the goune of him whome they 
 brought and another that carryed his hatt & band. 
 
64 
 
 A VIGLLATE. 
 
 Then came two other squires whereof one carryed his dublet 
 the other his breeches. 
 
 Then came two with lights. 
 
 Next came he that was in his shirt carryed by two in a chaire 
 and covered with a blancket. 
 
 Last behind came one squire more that carryed his shoes & 
 stockings. 
 
 All these beeing entred the hall, the squires made their attend- 
 ance about him with great observance, every one reaching him 
 his apparrell as it pleased him to call for it, and then also helping 
 him on with it. And this was the punishment of those that were 
 found a bed. 
 
 Others which were found up in their chambers & would not 
 answer were violently brought downe with bills and staves as ma- 
 lefactors and by the Knight Marshals appointment were com- 
 mitted close prisoners to the princes castle, videl. the stocks, which 
 were placed upon a table to that purpose, that those which were 
 punished might bee seene to the terrour of others. 
 
 By this time supper was ready and the sewer call’d to the 
 dresser whereupon the buttery bell was presently rung as it uses 
 to bee at other ordinary meales, besides a trumpet was sounded at 
 the kitchen hatch to call the wayters together. 
 
 After the first messe was served in, the prince with the rest of 
 his councell satt downe, then all the rest of the howse in seni- 
 ority. 
 
 Towardes the end of supper two gentlemen of the second table 
 fell out, wee could neuer distinctly know about what, it was 
 verely supposed themselves searsly knew, but from wordes they 
 fell suddenly to blowes, and ere any man was aware, on of them 
 had stabbed the other into the arme with his knife to the great 
 prejudice of the mirth, which should or w ould haue follow ed that 
 night. But the offender was presently apprehended (and though 
 a gentleman of some worth) put into my Lord’s stocks, where 
 hee lay most part of that night with shame and blame inough. 
 And yet for all that punishment the next day he was convented 
 before the officers of the colledge, and there agayne more grei- 
 vously punished; for the fault was much agravated by the cir- 
 
A VIGILATE, 
 
 65 
 
 curastances of the time, place and person that was hurt, who was 
 a very worshipfull knights sonne and heyre. 
 
 After this the prince with some of the better sort of the howse 
 beeing much disconted with the mischaunce that had happened, 
 retyred themselves into the president lodging, where priuatly 
 they made themselues merry, with a wassail called the five bells 
 of Magdalen church, because it was an auncient note of those 
 bells, that they were almost neuer silent. This shew for the 
 better grace of the night was performed by some of the M n and 
 officers themselues in manner following : 
 
 Enter the Clarke of Magdalens alone. 
 
 Your kind acceptance of the late devise 
 Presented by S* Gyles's clarke, my neighbour. 
 
 Hath hartned mee to furnish in a trice 
 
 This nights up sitting with a two hovres labour: 
 
 Ffor any thing, I hope, though ne’re so naghty 
 Wil be accepted in a Vigilate. 
 
 I have observed as your sportes did passe all 
 (A fault of mine to bee to curious) 
 
 The twelfe night slipt away without a wassail, 
 
 A great defect, to custome most inj urious : 
 
 Which l to mend have done my best indeavour 
 To bring it in, for better late then never. 
 
 And more, for our more tuneable proceeding, 
 
 I have ta’ne downe the five bells in our towre, 
 
 Which will perforate it, if you give them heeding, 
 
 Most musically, though they ring an hovre. — 
 
 Now I go in to oyle my bells and pruin them, 
 
 When I coin downe He bring them downe Si tune them. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 After a while he returned with five others presenting his five 
 bels, and tyed with five bel-ropes, which after he had pulled one 
 by one, they all began a peale, and sang in Latin as followeth : 
 
 K 
 
66 A VIGILATE. 
 
 Jam sumus laetis dapibus repleti, 
 
 Copiam vobis ferimus fluentem, 
 
 Gaudium vobis canimus jocose 
 
 Vivite laeti. 
 
 Te deum dicunt (venerande Bacche) 
 
 Te deam dicunt (reverenda mater) 
 
 Vos graves vobis removete luctus : 
 
 Vivite laeti. 
 
 Dat Ceres vires, hominumque firmat 
 Corpora, et Bacchus pater ille vini 
 Liberat curis animos molestis : 
 
 Vivite laeti. 
 
 Ne dolor vestros animos fatiget, 
 
 Vos jubet laeta haec removere curas 
 Turba, laetari feriaeque suadent. 
 
 Vivite laeti. 
 
 En Ceres laetae segetis creatrix, 
 
 Et pater vini placidique somni 
 
 Pocula haec vobis hilares ministrant 
 
 0 i monarcha. 
 bume < 
 
 l magister. 
 
 Bibunt omnes ordine dum , adores h&c ultima carmina 
 sapius repetunt ; mox singuli toti conventui sic or- 
 dine gratulantur. 
 
 Tenor. Reddere faelicem si quemquam copia possit 
 Copia faelicis nomen habere jubet. 
 
 Copia laete jubet tristes depellere curas, 
 
 Copia quam cingit Bacchus et alma Ceres. 
 
 Counter Quern non delectant moderate pocula sumpta? 
 Tenor . Cujus non animum dulcia vina juvant? 
 
A YIGILATE. 
 
 67 
 
 Dulcia vina juvant, dulcem dant vina soporem, 
 Magnificas ornant dulcia vina dapes. 
 
 Meane. Frugibus alma Ceres mortalia pectora nutrit, 
 
 Exornant campum frugibus alma Ceres. 
 
 Si cuiquam desint Cerelia dona, nec illi 
 Lenaei patris mimera grata placent. 
 
 Nec vobis Cereris nec Baccbi munera desint, 
 
 Annuat et votis Jupiter ipse meis. 
 
 Treble. Alma Ceres vestris epulis laetatur, et ecce 
 Copia cum Baccho gaudia laeta canunt 
 
 Mox omnes cantantes Exeunt. 
 
 Gaudium laetum canimus, canemus 
 Hoc idem semper, nec enim dolere 
 Jam licet, laetae feriae bic aguntur 
 
 Vivite laeti. 
 
 Saepius nobis feriae revertant, 
 
 Saepius vinum liceat potare, 
 
 Saepius vobis hilares canamus 
 
 Vivite laeti. 
 
 This then was suddenly and extempore clapt together for want 
 of a better, but notwithstanding was as willingly and chearefully 
 receaved as it was proferd. 
 
 By this time it was foure a clocke and liberty was given to 
 every one to goe to bed or stay up as long as they pleased. The 
 Prince with his councell brake up their watch, so did most of the 
 Maisters of the hovse, but the younger sort stay’d up till prayers 
 time, and durst not goe to bed for feare of one another. For 
 some, after ihey had licence to depart, were fetcht out of their beds 
 by their fellowes, and not suffered to put on their clothes till they 
 came into the hall. And thus the day came, & made an end of 
 this night’s sport. 
 
68 
 
 EGG SATTERDAY. 
 
 On the sixt of february beeing egge satterday, it pleased some 
 gentlemen schollers in the towne to make a dauncing night of it. 
 They had provided many new and curious daunces for the maske 
 of Penelope’s woers, but the yeare beeing far spent and Lent 
 drawingon and many other thinges to bee performed, the prince 
 was not able to bestow that state upon them which their love & 
 skill deserved. But their good will was very kindely receiued by 
 the prince in this night’s private travels. They had some appa- 
 rell suddenly provided for them and these few Latin verses for 
 their induction 
 
 Isti fuere credo Penelopes proci 
 Quos justa forsan ira Telemachi domo 
 Expulit Vlyssis. 
 
 After all this sport was ended the prince entertayned them very 
 royally with good store of wine and a banquet where they were 
 very merry and well pleased all that night. 
 
 Against the next Tuesday following beeing shrouetuesday the 
 great stage was againe set up and the scaffolds built about the 
 hall for the princes resignation, which was performed that night 
 w ith great state and solemnity in manner and forme following : 
 
IRA SEU TVMVLVS FORTVNJE. 
 
 69 
 
 IRA SEU TVMVLVS FOR/TVNiE. 
 INTERLOCUTORES. 
 
 PRINCEPS. 
 
 ADMIRALIUS. 
 
 THESAURARIUS. 
 
 COMPTROLLARIUS. 
 
 CANCELLARIUS. 
 
 JUSTITIARIUS. 
 
 MARESCALLUS. 
 
 CAMERARIUS. 
 
 PH1LOSOPHUS. JURIDIC US. 
 
 CYNICUS. MAGISTER LUDORU M. 
 
 MOMUS. ANTEAMBULO PRIMUS. 
 
 POLYCRATES. ANTEAMBULO SECUNDUS. 
 
 PHILADELPHUS. STULTUS. 
 
 CHORUS . 
 
 MINERUA. 
 EUPHEMI A. 
 
 FORTUNA. 
 
 TOLM^SA. 
 
 Many strp.ungers of all sorts were invited to this shew, and 
 many more came together, for the name’s sake only of a re- 
 signacon, to see the manner and solemnity of it, for y* it was re- 
 ported (and truly) that there was nothing els to bee done or seene 
 beside the resignacon and no man thought so much could haue 
 beene said of so little matter. 
 
 The stage was never so oppressed w th company, insomuch that 
 it was verely thought itt could not bee pformed that night for 
 want of roome ; but the audience was so favourable as to stand as 
 close and yeeld as much backe as was possible ; so that for all 
 tumults it began about 7 a clocke, and was very well liked of all. 
 
70 
 
 THE PRINCE’S RESIGNATION. 
 
 Only some few, more vpon their owne guilty suspieon than 
 our plaine intention, thinking themselves toucht at that verse of 
 Momus 
 
 Dixi, et quern dederat cursum fortuna peregi, 
 
 laboured to raise an hissing, but it was soone smothered, and the 
 whole company in the end gave vs good applause and depted 
 very well pleased. 
 
 After the shew was ended, the sometimes Lord was carried in 
 state to his owne private chamber after this manner : 
 
 Ffirst went two Squires w th lights. 
 
 Next Euphemia and Tolmaea. 
 
 Then 2 other Squires w ,th lightes. 
 
 Next Minerva and Fortuna. 
 
 Then came 4 other Squires with lightes and in the midst of 
 them 4 Schollers bearing on their shoulders a tombe or se- 
 pulcher adorned with scutchions and little flagges, wherein 
 all the Princes honours had bene buried before. 
 
 After this came the Prince alone, in his Schollers gowne and 
 hood as the cheife mourner. 
 
 Then all the rest of his counsell and company likewise in blacke 
 gownes and hoodes, like mourners, two by two. 
 
 All these were said to goe to the Temple of Minerva there to 
 consecrate and erecte the sepulcher, and this state was very well 
 liked of all that saw itt. 
 
 Heere wee thought to have made an end of all, and to have 
 puld downe the scaffolds and stage, but then many said that so 
 much preparacon was to much for so small a show. Besides 
 there was an English Tragedy almost ready, which they were 
 very earnest should bee p formed, but, many arguments were al- 
 ledged against it : ffirst, for the time, because itt was neere Lent, 
 and consequently a season vnfitt for plaies — Secondly, the stile 
 for that itt was English, a language vnfitt for the vniversitie, es- 
 pecially to end so much late sporte w til all — Thirdly, the suspieon 
 
PERI AN DER. 
 
 71 
 
 of some did more hinder it then all the rest, for y* it was thought 
 that some pticulers were aimed att in the Chorus, which must 
 needes bee distastfull — Lastly, the ill lucke, w ch wee had before 
 w th English, made many very loth to have any thing done againe 
 in that straine. 
 
 But these objections being aunswered all well as might bee, 
 and faithfull pmise being made and taken y* if any word were 
 thought psonall, it should bee presently put out, the stage was 
 suffered to stand, and the scaffolds somewhat enlarged against 
 the Saturday following. Att which time such a concourse of 
 people from all places, and of all sorts came together presently 
 after dinner, that itt was thought impossible any thing should 
 have beene done that night for tumults. Yet in the beginning 
 such order and care was taken (every one being willing att the 
 last cast to helpe towardes the making a good end,) that the stage 
 was kept voide of all company, and the scaffoldes were reserved 
 for straungers and men sorte, better then ever they were before, 
 so that it began very peaceably somewhat before six a clocke, 
 and was pformed in manner following : 
 
 PERIANDER. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 THE M R OF THE REVELS. DETRACTION. 
 
 THE M R OF THE REVELS BOY. RESOLUTION. 
 
 INGENUITY A DOCTOR OF PHYSICKE. 
 
 INTERLOCVTORES. 
 
 \ 
 
 PERIANDER, TYRANNUS CORINTHI. 
 
 CYPSILUS, HiERES PERIANDRI, STULTUS. 
 
 LYCOPHRON PRATER CYPSILI. 
 
 NEOTINOS, PUER, SATELLES LYCOPII. 
 
 LYSIMACHOS J 
 
 < NOBILES ET A CONSILIJS PERIANDRI 
 ARISTHjEUS > 
 
PERI A N DER 
 
 tz 
 
 PHILARCHES 
 
 ERITERUS > JUUENES NOBILES IN AULA PERIANDRT. 
 SYMPHILUS 3 
 
 CRATiEA MATER PERI ANDRI. 
 
 MELISSA UXOR PERI ANDRI. 
 
 MELISSA UMBRA. 
 
 EUGENIA FILIA PER1ANDRI. 
 
 PORNiEA 7 
 
 r DUiE MERITRICUL.E PERIANDRI. 
 
 ZONA ) 
 
 LARISS^EA SOROR PHILARCHIS. 
 
 EUROPE ARISTH.EI FILIA. 
 
 FiEMINiE QUATUOR CORIN THliE CUM 4 or PUERIS INSER- 
 UIENTIBUS. 
 
 ARION CELEBRIS MUSICUS. 
 
 NAUTJE QUATUOR. 
 
 CIUES DUO TOGATI. 
 
 VIGILES DUO. 
 
 CALISTUS \ 
 
 STRATOCLES x SATELLITES PERIANDRI. 
 
 BORIUS y 
 
 TRES AUT 4or ALIJ SATELLITES. 
 
 EPILOGUS. 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 Gentlemen, welcome ! our great promises 
 Wee would make vpp, your selues must needs confesse, 
 
 But our small timbred actors, narrowe roome, 
 
 Necessity of thrifte make all short come 
 Of our first apprehensions ; w r ee must keepe 
 Our auntient customes thoughe wee after creepe. 
 
 But wee forgett times limitts, Nowe tis Lente — 
 
 Old store this weeke may lawfully be spente 
 
PERIANDER. 
 
 73 
 
 Our former shewes were giu’n to our cal’d Lorde> 
 
 This, and att his request, for you was storde. 
 
 By many hands was Periander slaine, 
 
 Your gentler hands will giue him liue againe. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 A certain gentlewoman, vpon the hearing of these two last 
 verses, made two other verses, and in way of an aunswer sent 
 them to the Prince, who having first plaied Periander afterwards 
 himselfe also pronounced the Epilogue. 
 
 The verses were these 
 
 If that my hand or hart him life could give, 
 
 By hand and hart should Periander live. 
 
 But it is almost incredible to thincke how well this Tragedy 
 was pformed of all pties, and how well liked of the whole, which 
 (as many of them as were within the hall) were very quiet and 
 attentive. But those that were without and could not get in made 
 such an hideous noice, and raised such a tumult w th breaking of 
 windows all about the colledge throwinge of stones into the hall and 
 such like ryott, that the officers of the coll : (beeing first dar’d to 
 appeare) were faine to rush forth in the beginning of the play, w th 
 abovt a dozen whiflers well armed and swords drawne, whereat 
 the whole company (which were gathered together before the 
 chapell doore to try whether they could breake it open) seeing 
 them come behind them out of the lodging, presently gave backe, 
 and ranne away though itt was thought they were not so few as 
 4 or 500. 
 
 The officers gave some faire words and some fowle as they saw 
 occasion, the whiflers were very heedfull to inarke who were the 
 ringleaders of the test, and having some notice giuen of them by 
 some of o r freindes, they tooke some of them and committed them 
 to the Porters lodge, where they lay close prisoners till the play 
 
 L 
 
74 
 
 PERIANDER. 
 
 was done, and then they were brought forth and punished, and 
 so sente home. 
 
 After this all was quiet only some were so thrust in the hall, 
 that they were caried forth for dead but soone reeouered, when 
 they came into the aire. 
 
 The Chorus of this Tragedy much pleased for the rarity of it. 
 Detraction beeing taken from among the company, where hee had 
 like to have bene beaten for his sawsines (as it was supposed) for 
 nobody at first toke him for an actor. The cheifest in the hall 
 commaunded that notice should be taken of him, that hee might 
 afterwards bee punished for his boldnes ; — but as soone as it once 
 appeared that hee was an actor, their disdaine and anger turned 
 to much pleasure and content. 
 
 All were so pleased att the whole course of this play, that there 
 were at least eight generall plaudites given in the midst of it in 
 divers places and to divers psons. 
 
 In the end, they clapped their hands so long, \ rt they went 
 forth of the colledge clapping. 
 
 But in the midst of all this good liking wee were neere two 
 mischaunces, the one from Ly r cophron who lost a faire gold ring 
 from his finger, which notw th standing all the hurleburly in the 
 end of the play, was soone found againe ; the other from Periander, 
 who, going to kill his daughter Eugenia, did not so couch his 
 dagger w^in his hand, but that hee prickt her through all her 
 attire, but (as God would have it) it was onely a scratch and so 
 it passed. 
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 
 
 Many other thinges were in this yeare entended which neither 
 were nor could be pformed. As the maske of Penelope’s Wooer, 
 w^ the State of Telemachus, w ?th a Controversie of Jrus and his 
 ragged Company, whereof a great pte was made. The devise of 
 the Embassage from Lubber-land, whereof also a pte was made. 
 The Creation of White Knights of the order of Aristotle’s Well, 
 
THE CONCLUSION. 
 
 75 
 
 which should bee svvorne to defend Aristotle against all authors, 
 water against wine, footemen against horsemen, and many more 
 such like injunctions. A lottery for those of the colledge or straun- 
 gers as itt pleased them to draw, not for matters of wealth, but 
 only of mirth and witt. The triumph of all the ffounders of the col- 
 ledges in Oxford, a devise much thought on, but it required more 
 invention, more cost then the time would affoord. The holding 
 of a court leet and baron for y e Prince wherein there should have 
 beene leasses drawne, copies taken, surrenders made, all which 
 were not so much neglected as prevented by the shortenes of 
 time and want of mony, better wits and richer daies may here- 
 after make vpp w ch was then lefte vnpfect. 
 
 Here some letters might bee inserted, and other gratulatory 
 messages from divers freindes to the Prince, but it is high time to 
 make an end of this taedious and fruitelesse relation, vnlesse the 
 knowledge of trouble and vanity bee fruitefull. 
 
 W ee intended in these exercises the practise and audacity of 
 our youth, the creditt and good name of our Colledge, the love 
 and favor of the vniuersity ; but instead of all these (so easie a 
 thing it is to be deceived in a good meaning) w T ee met with pee- 
 vishnesse at home, peruersnes abroad, contradictions every where; 
 some neuer thought themselves entreated enough to their owne 
 good and creditt; others thought themselves able to doe nothing 
 if they could not thwarte and hinder some-thing; most stood by 
 and gave aime, willing to see much and doe nothing, nay 
 pchaunce they were ready to procure most trouble, which would 
 bee sure to yeild least helpe. And yet wee may not so much 
 grudge at faults at home as wee may iustly complaine of hard 
 measure abroad ; for insteed of the love and favour of the vniuer- 
 sitie, wee found o r selves (wee will say justly) taxed for any the 
 least errour (though ingenious spirits would have pdoned many 
 things, where all tilings were entended for their owne pleasure) 
 but most vnjustly censured, and envied for that w ch was done (wee 
 dare say) indifferently well : so that, in a word, wee paid deere 
 for trouble, and in a manner hired and sent for men to doe vs 
 wrong. 
 
 Let others herafter take heed how they attempte the like, vn- 
 
THE CONCLUSION. 
 
 7fi 
 
 lesse they find better meanes at home, and better mindes abroad. 
 And yet wee cannot complaine of all, some ment well and said 
 well, and those tooke good will for good paiment, good ende- 
 vors for good pformaunce, and such (in this kind) shall deserve 
 a private favour, w hen other shal bee denied a common benefitt. 
 
 Seria vix recte agnoscit f qui ludicra nescit . 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 T. Bensley and Son, 
 
 Bolt Court, Fleet Street, Loudon. 
 
©ID iHeg of JleteforDslnre 
 
 FOR A 
 
 MAYD MARIAN 
 
 ^ereforD Cotone 
 
 FOR A 
 
 MORRIS DAUNCE 
 
 TWELVE MORRIS DANCERS IN HEREFORDSHIRE 
 OF TWELVE HUNDRED YEARS OLD. 
 
 Grata Senectus homini parilis Juventoe. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED FOR JOHN BUDGE, AND ARE TO BE SOLD AT HIS 
 SHOP, AT THE GREAT SOUTH DOORE OF PAULKS. 
 
 1609 - 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The tract with which the curious reader is here pre- 
 sented, has a double claim to attention, as illustrating a 
 now almost obsolete feature of national manners ; and as 
 recording a most extraordinary occurrence. Its rarity 
 is so great, that notwithstanding a mere notice of it in a 
 note by the Rev. T. Warton in the Variorum Edition of 
 Shakespeare, its very existence has been called in ques- 
 tion : it is however mentioned in Sir W. Temple’s Essay 
 on Health and Long Life, and was communicated to him 
 by Lord Leicester. Howel in his Parley of Beasts , 1660, 
 has recorded the Event which forms the subject of this 
 curious Pamphlet, and it is quoted by Mr. Todd in his 
 Illustrations of Gower and Chaucer. Those who are de- 
 sirous of seeing the subject of the Morris Dance illustrated 
 in a masterly and interesting manner, will do well to 
 consult the very curious dissertation at the end of the 
 second Volume of Mr. Douce’s Illustrations of Shake- 
 speare, and Mr. Toilet’s account of his Window, printed 
 at the end of the 1 1th Volume of Reed’s Edition. 
 
 The Editor offers it as a specimen of a series of tracts, 
 sufficient to form a handsome volume, illustrative of the 
 Manners, Customs, Poetry, History and Biography of 
 
IV 
 
 Great Britain, during the sixteenth and part of the 
 seventeenth centuries. 
 
 The Specimen will evince that the Publisher has 
 spared no expense in rendering the typographic execu- 
 tion such as must secure the approbation of the curious 
 in that particular, and the whole will be rendered at such 
 a moderate price, as the limited nature of the sale of such 
 a publication will admit. 
 
 A General Title will be printed, and delivered with 
 the last Tract in the Volume. 
 
TO THAT RENOWNED OX-LEACII, 
 
 ©is fjall, 
 
 T A BORER OF HEREFORDSHIRE, 
 
 AND TO HIS MOST INVINCIBLE WEATHER BEATEN 
 
 3!2utbtotone aEaber, 
 
 BEING ALREADIE OLD AND SOUND, THREESCORE YEARES 
 AND UPWARD. 
 
 O thee (old Hally) that for thy Age and Art 
 inightest haue cured an Oxe that was eaten 
 at Saint Quintins , that for thy warlike Musicke 
 mightest haue strucke up at Bullen, when great 
 Drummes wore broken heades, thy little con- 
 tinuall Taber, had beene enough to haue put 
 spirit into all the Souldiers : Now Tweire-pipe 
 that famous Southren Taberer with the Cowleyan windpipe, who for 
 whuling hath beene famous through the Globe of the world, did 
 neuer gaine such renowne and credite by his Pipe and Taber, as 
 thou (old Hall ) by striking up to these twelue hundred yeares 
 Moris-dauncers : Nor art thou alone (sweet Hall) a most exquisite 
 Taber-man, but an excellent Oxe-leach, and canst pleasure thy 
 neighbours. The people of Herefordshire are beholding to thee, 
 thou giuest the men light hearts by thy Pype, and the women light 
 hccles by thy Taber: O wonderful Pyper, O admirable Taber-man, 
 make use of thy worth, euen after death, that art so famously 
 worthy in thy life, both for thy age, skill, and thy vnbruized Taber, 
 who these threescore yeares has kept her maydenhead sound and 
 vncrackt, and neither lost her first voyce, or her fashion: once for 
 the Countryes pleasure imitate that Bohemian Zisca , who at his 
 death gaue his Souldiers a strict command, to flea his skin off, and 
 coucr a Drum with it, that alive and dead, he might sound like a 
 terror in the eares of his enemies: so thou sweete Hereford Hally 
 bequeath in thy last will, thy Velom-spotted skin, to 
 couer Tabors : at the sound of which, to set 
 all the shires a dauncing. 
 
©IB iHeg of ipettfortisfjuT for a itfap^JHartan, 
 
 AND 
 
 rpcrefotti=Cotime Cot- a itfoms Dattnce. 
 
 IE courts of kings for stately measures: the 
 Citie for light heeles, and nimble footing : the 
 country for shutting dances : W esterne-men 
 for gambouls: Middlesex-men for tricks aboue 
 ground : Essex-men for the Hey : Lancashire 
 for Ilorne-pypes : Worcestershire for Bag- 
 pypes : but Hereford-shire for a morris- 
 
 daunce, puts downe, not onely all Kent , but verie neare (if one had 
 line enough to measure it) three quarters of Christendome. Neuer 
 had Saint Sepulchres a truer ring of Bels : neuer did any Silke- 
 weauer keepe braucr time with the knocke of the heelc : neuer had 
 the dauncing horse a better tread of the toe : neuer could Beuerley 
 Faire giuc money to a more sound Taborer, nor euer had Robin 
 llood a more deft May d- Marian. 
 
 If your eares itch after this old (but yet no stale) wonder, let 
 them itch no more, (for why should any mans ears itch longer then 
 is reason) you shall hauc them tickled presently with the neb of my 
 pen. Understand therefore (if at least you haue so much spare wit 
 left you, as to understand,) that in the merriest Moncth of the ycare, 
 which last did take his leauc of vs, and in that Moneth, as some 
 
 li 
 
2 
 
 A MORRIS DAUNCE. 
 
 report, Lords went a Maying, the wombe of the spring being great 
 with child of pleasure, brought forth (iust about that time) a num- 
 ber of Knights, Esquiers, and Gallants (of the best sort) from many 
 partes of the land, to meete at a Horse-race neere Hereford , in Here- 
 fordshire. The horses hauing (for that yeare) run themselves 
 well-nigh out of breath, wagers of great summes (according to the 
 fashion of such pastimes) being wonne and lost, and the sports 
 growing to the end, and shutting vp, some wit (riper then the rest) 
 fed the stomacks of all men (then and there present) with desire and 
 expectation of a more fresh and liuely meeting in the same place, 
 to be performed this yeare of 1609. Pleasure and paine had left 
 such deepe print in euery bosome, that the match was no sooner 
 begotten, but it was borne, time only being appointed (at the due 
 expected houre) to bring it forth. The ceremonies which their 
 meeting was to stand vpon, were these, that euery man shoulde 
 engage himselfe (in his credite) vnder his hand, to bring (this pre- 
 sent yeere) to the place appointed, running horses for the race, 
 Cockes of the game, to maintaine battails, &c. with good store of 
 money, to flie vp and downe betweene those that were to lay wagers. 
 He that first gaue fire to this sotiable motion, was charged to stand 
 to his tackling, and to come well prouided, who thervpon (wildest 
 the mettle of his braines were hot and boyling) vndertooke to bring 
 a Hobbie-horse to the race, that should out-runne all the Nags which 
 were to come thither, and to hold out in a longer race, then any 
 would be there. 
 
 The circle of time running round, and closing at his fulnesse, 
 expectation did within fewe dayes make Hereford towne shew like 
 the best peopled Cittie. Innes were lodgings for Lords : Baucis 
 and Philcemons house (had it stood there) would haue beene taken 
 vp for a Knight. The streetes swarmed with people, the people 
 staring and ioy fully welcomming whole brauies of Gallants, who 
 came brauely flocking on horsback, like so many lustie aduenturers. 
 Bath made her waters to boile vp, and swell like a spring-tide, with 
 the ouerflowing of her owne teares, which fell from her eies through 
 griefe, to see her dearest guests leaue her for the loue of a horse-* 
 race at Hereford . And so much the greater were her sorrowes, by 
 how much the more worthie the friendes were whom she lost: for 
 
A MORRIS DAUNCE. 
 
 the number of them being at least two or three hundred. Amongst 
 many of the better rankes, these marched with the foremost. 
 
 These were but a small handfull to those rich heapes that there 
 were gathered together. But by these (that had the honour to be 
 the leaders) you may gesse what numbers were the followers. 
 
 The day being come, in which the running horses were to proue 
 themselves arrant J ades, or to shewe the nobleuesse of their breeding : 
 As much looking there was, as much talking, and as much prepara- 
 tion, for the Hobbi-horse promised the last yeare, as about dieting 
 the fairest Gelding this yeare, vpon whose head the heauiest wagers 
 were layd. 
 
 The exercises of this Olympian race, required strength, speede, 
 lustinesse of courage, and youthful blood, none but able and actiue 
 bodies could climb ouer such labors. But to performe a race of 
 greater length, of greater labor, and yet in shorter time, and by 
 feeble vnexercised, and vnapt creatures, that would be an honour 
 to him that vnderlooke it, that would be to Hercford-shire a glorie, 
 albeit it might sceme an impossibilitie. 
 
 What man would not wonder to see fire struck out ofyce? to 
 see dead Ashes kindled againe, and toyeelde fire ? to sec Saples trees 
 in the depth of Winter laden with mellow Apples, and to see those 
 Apples when they are pluckt and cut, to grow againe. This wonder 
 was as great, the accomplishment of it as strange. 
 
 Age is no bodie (in trials of the bodie) when youth is in place, 
 it giues the other the bucklers : it stands and giues aime, and is 
 content to see youth Act, while Age sits but as a spectator, because 
 the one does but studie and play ouer the parts, which the other 
 
 Lord Herbert of Ragland 
 Sir Thomas Somerset 
 Charles Somerset 
 Count Arundels 2 sonnes 
 Sir Edward Swift 
 Sir Thomas Mildemay 
 Sir Robert Yaxley 
 Sir Ro. Carey 
 Sir Iohn Philpot 
 
 Sir Ed. Lewes 
 Sir Francis Lacon 
 Sir lames Scudamore 
 Sir Thomas Cornwall 
 
 Sir Ro. Boderham 
 Sir Thomas Russell 
 Sir Bascaruile 
 
 Sir Thomas Conisby 
 Sir George Chute 
 
4 
 
 A MORRIS DAUNCE. 
 
 hath discharged in this great and troublesome Theater. It was 
 therefore now plotted to lay the Sceane in Age, to haue the old 
 Comedie presented, Fathers to be the Actors, and beardlesse boyes 
 the Spectators. Sophocles (because he was accused of imbecilitie 
 and dotage, should rehearse his Oedipus Coloneus , while the Senate 
 and his owne wild-brain sonnes stoode by, and were the audience : 
 and to set out this Sceane with mirth, as well as with wonder, the 
 state of the whole Act, was put into a Morris-daunce . To furnish 
 which fully and rarely, a Bill of names able to impannell three or 
 four Juries was giuen and read, but onely 18 were sworne, and had 
 the charge deliuered to them; Those vpon whose heades the Vous 
 auez was set, being these, that in the next ranke double their Fyles, 
 viz. 
 
 The Morris , and all the officers attending vpon it. 
 
 Squire of 
 Hereford, 
 a Musilion, 
 
 108 . 
 
 Harrie Rudge 
 the Taborer. 
 
 T HE running horses being too light of foote for vs to follow, be 
 content I pray to stay with vs, and to march along with our 
 Infanterie of Hereford , which thus brauely came on. 
 
 Two Musitions were appoynted (like the drum-major , and drum- 
 minor , to strike vp, and to giue the alarum : the one of them was a 
 Squire borne, and all his sons Squires in their cradles. The Instru- 
 ment he tickled was a trebble Violin, vpon which he played any old 
 lesson that could be called for : the diuision hee made on the 
 strings, being more pleasing then the Diapason. In skill he out- 
 shines blind Moone of London , and hath out-played more fidlers 
 then now sneake vp and downe into all the T auerns there. They 
 may alt call him their father, or (if you reckon the yeares rightly 
 which are scored vpon his head) the Musitions Grandsire, for this 
 tuneable Squire is one hundred and eight yeares old. 
 
 Next to Arion (and cheeke by ioule with him in estimation) 
 went old Orpheus , (as a man might being deceiued, haue taken 
 him) but that hee wanted Orpheus Lute. This was old Hall of 
 Hereford , the Wayts of three Metropolitans Cities, make not more 
 Musicke then he can with his Pipe and Tabor, if at least his head be 
 hard-brac’d with nappie Ale. This noble old Hall , seeing that 
 Apollo was both a Fidler, and a Quack-saluer, being able to cure 
 
A MORRIS DAUNCE. 
 
 diseases, as well as to harpe vpon one string, would needes be free 
 of two companies as well, (that is to say) the sweete companie of 
 Musitions, and that other which deales in salues and plaisters ; for 
 be both beates a Tabor with good iudgement, and (vvitli better) can 
 helpe an Oxe if he finde himselfe ill at ease. 
 
 The Wood of this olde Hall's Tabor should haue beene made a 
 Paile to carrie water in, at the beginning of King Edzca?d the sixts 
 raigne : but Hall (being wise, because hee was euen then reasonably 
 well strucken in yeares, saued it from going to the water, and con- 
 uerted it in those dayes to a Tabor. So that his Tabor hath made 
 Batchelors and Lasses daunce round about the Maypoll, three-score 
 Sommers one after another in order, and is yet not worme-eaten. 
 And noble Hall himselfe, hath stoode (like an Oake) in all stormes, 
 by the space of foure-score and seuentcene Winters, and is not yet 
 falling to the ground. 
 
 The Mar.-diales of the field, were foure : these had no great 
 stomacke to daunce in the Morris, but tooke vpon them the office of 
 W hitlers. 
 
 1. The first of these was Thomas Price of Clodaehe , a Subsidie 
 man ; and one, vpon whose cheekes age had written, one hundred 
 and fiue yeares. 
 
 2. The second, was Thomas Andros of Begger Weston , a Sub- 
 sidie man ; for lie carried vpon his backe, the weightie burden of 
 one hundred and eight yeares, and went away with them lightly. 
 
 3. The third, was William Edwards of Bodenham , (his name 
 is in the Kings bookes likewise) and vnto him hath time also giuen 
 the vse of one hundred and eight yeares : and besides the blessings 
 of so many yeares, the comfort of a yong wile, and by that wife, is 
 his age honored with a child, of sixe yeares olde. 
 
 4. The fourth, was John Sanders of Watford , an Ironworker; 
 the hardnes of which labour could not so wearie and wast his bodie, 
 but that his courage hath oucrcome it, and carried him safely ouer 
 the hie hill of old age, where she hath bestowed vpon him one hun- 
 dred and two yeares. 
 
 These Ibure Whiflers reckoning with their lines, and casting vp 
 what all their daies which they had spent in the world could make, 
 found that they amounted to foure hundred and three and twenlie 
 
 Hall , 
 97 yeares. 
 
 4 JVhiflers. 
 
 Tho. Price 
 of Clodacke, 
 105 yeares. 
 
 Tho. Andros 
 of Begger 
 IVeston, 108. 
 
 IV. Edwards 
 of Bodenham, 
 108. 
 
 John Sanders, 
 102 yeares old. 
 
 423 yeares. 
 
6 
 
 A MORRIS DAUNCE. 
 
 James Tom- 
 kins, 106 
 yeeres old. 
 
 John Willis 
 97 yeeres old. 
 
 Dick Phillips 
 of Middleton, 
 
 102 . 
 
 yeares ; so that if the rest of their dauncing brother-hood, had come 
 short of their account, and could not (euery man) make vp one 
 hundred yeares, these offered and weare able to lend them three and 
 twentie yeares, but the others had enough of their owne, and needed 
 not to borrow of any man. 
 
 Doe you not long to see how the Morris-dancers bestir their 
 legs (lift vp your eyes, leape vp behind their heads that stand before 
 you, or else get vpon stalls,) for 1 heare their bells, and behold, 
 here they come. 
 
 Of twelve in the whole Teeme, the foreman was James Tomkins 
 of Lengerren , a gentleman by birth ; neither loued of fortune, nor 
 hated of her, for he was neuer so poore as to be pittied, nor euer so 
 rich as to be enuied : when he had bin a dweller in the world 
 fourescore and eighteene yeares, he married a wife, of two and fiftie 
 yeares old; shee brought him a child thats now eight yeares old 
 (liuing,) the Father himselfe hauing now the glasse of his life running 
 to fill vp, the full number of one hundred and six yeares. 
 
 After him comes lustily dauncing, John Willis of Dormington , 
 a bone-setter: he had gotten such skill by placing other mens bones 
 in order, when they were strucke out of ioynt, that he would neuer 
 suffer his owne to be displaced, and by that meanes was so lustie at 
 legges now, that albeit he carried about him the full weight of one 
 hundred yeares, yet he was not seene to lye behind his fellowes, but 
 went foote by foote with the foremost. His dauncing was fit to his 
 yeares, and his purpose in being one of the Morris, was both honest 
 and charitable, for he bestowed his person vpon them, with intent 
 to be readie at hand if any dislocation should be wrought vpon any 
 ioynt in his old companions by fetching loftie trickes, which by all 
 meanes possible they were sworne to auoide. 
 
 Roome for little Dick Phillips of Middleton ; how nimbly he 
 shakes his heeles, wel dancd old heart of oake, and yet as little as 
 he seemes, his courage is as big as the Hobbie-horses, for the fruits 
 of his youth, (gathered long agon,) are not yet withered. His eldest 
 Sonne is at this present, foure score yeares of age, and his second 
 Sonne, may now reckon three score : at our Lady-day last, he made 
 vp the yeares of his life, iust one hundred and two. 
 
A MORRIS DAUMCE. 
 
 7 
 
 Now falls into his right place William Waiton of Alarden , with Wl. Waitonof 
 a hundred and two yeares at his heeles, and that you may know he Alarden , 102. 
 neuer swore in his life, he was an old fisher, and of a cleane man 
 an excellent Fowler, the first yeare of King Henrie the eight. 
 
 Here slips in William Mosse, who contrarie to his name, had Wil. Mosse, 
 no Mosse at his heeles; little can he say of himselfe, and 1 as little lo6 ' 
 of him, but that he beares the age of a hundred and sixe. 
 
 Now cast your eyes vpon Thomas Winney of Holmer , an Tho.Winney of 
 honest Subsidie man, dwelling close by the towne, he dances with a ^ olmer » 100# 
 hundred yeares about him, wheresoeuer he goes, if the Church yard 
 and crampe take him not before Midsommer. 
 
 But how like you John Lace of Madley , a Taylor, and an ex- John Lace of 
 
 cellent name for it. In his youth he was a hosier, and a special Aladley ,97 
 
 J 7 1 yeares old. 
 
 good codpiece maker, being borne before the discension betweene 
 
 cloath breeches and veluet breeches, he carries foure score and seuen- 
 teene sommers about him, and faine would borrow three yeares of 
 lames Tomkins to make him a hundred ; and lames may very well 
 spare them, and yet leaue three toward the interest. 
 
 But what say you to John Careless ? you let him passe by John Carelessc 
 you, and seeme as carelesse as he, a man of fourescore and sixteene Q®y eares ' 
 at Midsommer next, he hath beene a dweller in Homlacie , three- 
 score yeares and two, and knowne to be a tall man, till now he 
 begins to be crooked, but fora bodie and a beard, he becomes any 
 Morris in Christendome. 
 
 At the heeles of him follows his fellow William Maio of E gel ton, Wil. Maio, 
 an old Souldier, and now a lustie laborer and a tall man, fortie 9 ~' 
 yeares since being grieuously wounded, he carried his liuer and 
 his lights home halfe a mile, and you may still put your finger into 
 them, but for a thin skin ouer them; and for all these stormes he 
 arriues at fourescore and seuenteene, and daunces merrily. 
 
 But looke you who here comes: John Hunt the Hobby-horse, John Hunt, 97. 
 wantifig but three of an hundred, twere time for him to forget him- 
 selfe, and sing but O, nothing but O, the Hobbie-horse is forgotten; 
 the Maide-marrian following him, offers to lend him scuen yeares 
 more, but if he would take vp ten in the hundred, his company arc 
 able to lend them. 
 
8 
 
 A MORRIS DAUNCE. 
 
 Meg Goodwin 
 of Er destand, 
 
 120 . 
 
 John Mandoy 
 100 yeares old. 
 
 1837 yeares 
 
 But now giue way for the Maide-marrian, old Meg Goodwin , 
 the famous wench of Erdistand, of whom Maister Weauer of Burton , 
 that was fourescore and ten yeares old, was wont to say, she Avas 
 twentie yeares elder then he, and he dyed ten yeares since. This 
 old Meg Avas at Prince Arthur's death, at Ludlow , and had her part 
 in the dole ; she was threescore yeares (she saith) a Maide, and 
 tAventie yeares otherwise, thats what you will, and since hath beene 
 thought fit to be a Maide-marrian. 
 
 Welcome John Mando, he was borne at Cradly , a very good 
 two hand sAyord man, of the age of an hundred, at blacke Monday 
 last, and serues in place of Morgan Deede , Avho climes to that age 
 within foure yeares, here present dAvelling in the towne, but he has a 
 great desire to keepe his bed, and be spared. 
 
 So here are eighteene persons, that carrie in all places about 
 them eighteen hundred, and thirtie seuen yeares. 
 
 Belike it was a grand-iurie to make vp this Morris-daunce, for 
 more Avere called, as tAvo men out of Estnor , of Iavo hundred nine 
 yeares of age ; foure out of Marcle , of foure hundred fiue yeares. 
 
 And for a good wager, it were easie to finde in that countie foure 
 hundred persons more, Avithin three years ouer or vnder an hun- 
 der yeares ; yet the shire is no way foure and tAventie miles ouer. 
 
 But Avill you know what fashion was obserued amongst the Mu- 
 sitians, and what habit the dauncers tooke vpon them, here take a 
 view of both. The Musitians and the twelue dauncers, had long 
 coates of the old fashion, hie sleeues gathered at the elboAves, and 
 hanging sleeues behind: the stuffe, red Buflin, stript Avith white, 
 Girdles with white, stockings Avhite, and redde Roses to their shooes : 
 the one sixe, a white Jewes cap Avith a JeAvell, and a long red Feather : 
 the other, a scarlet Jewes cap, with a JeAvell and a white Feather : So 
 the Hobbi-horse, and so the Maide-Marrion Avas attired in colours : 
 the Wiflers had long staues, white and red. And after the daunce 
 was ended, diuerse Courtiers that won Avagers at the race, tooke 
 those colours, and wore them in their hats. 
 
A MORRIS DAUNCE. 
 
 9 
 
 The Speech spoken before the Morris. 
 
 Ye seruants of our mightie king, 
 
 That came from court one hundred mile 
 To see our race, and sport this spring : 
 
 Ye are welcome, that is our Country stile, 
 And much good doe you, we are sorie; 
 
 That Hereford hath no better for yee. 
 
 A Horse, a Cocke, Trainsents, a Bull, 
 Primero, Gleeke, Hazard, Mumchance : 
 
 These sports through time are growne so dull, 
 As good to see a Morris dance. 
 
 Which sport was promised in iest, 
 
 But payd as truly as the rest. 
 
 A race (quoth you) behold a race, 
 
 No race of horses but of men, 
 
 Men borne not ten miles from this place, 
 Whose courses outrun hundreds ten. 
 
 A thousand yeares on ten mens backs, 
 
 And one supplies what other lacks. 
 
 THE LENUOY. 
 
 This is the Lenuoy (you may gather 
 Gentlemen, Yeomen, Groomes, and Pages, 
 
 Lets pray, Prince Henrie , and his father, 
 
 May outlive all these ten mens ages. 
 
 And he that mocks this application, 
 
 Is but a knaue past reformation. 
 
 This speech spoken, old Hall strucke vp, and the Morris- 
 dauncers fell to footing, whilest the Winders in their office, made 
 loome for the Hobby-horse. 
 
 c 
 
10 
 
 A MORRIS DAUNCE. 
 
 And liowe doe you like this Morris-daunce of Herefordshire? 
 Are they not braue olde youths? Haue they not the right footing? 
 the true tread ? comely lifeting. vp of one legge, and actiue bestow- 
 ing of the other? Kemps Morris to Norwich , was no more to this, 
 then a Gaillard on a common stage, at the end of an old dead 
 Comedie, is to a Caranto dan need on the Ropes. 
 
 Nestor makes a bragging in Homer , (a kind of blind Poet, that 
 could not see when he did well) of his owne praises, and especially 
 keepes a prating of his Age. But I would faine read if euer a 
 Homer of them all, if Nestor at that age (whatsoeuer it was) was 
 able to haue'made one in such a Morris-daunce. 
 
 Nay, how many Tailors that skipping from their Shoppe-boords 
 on Saterday nights, lay waite onelie for weddings on the Sunday 
 following, wasting their Capers many times on filthie rotten M utton, 
 and dauncing out their working day-gettings on Holi-day spend- 
 ings, how many of these, I say, would be able to set vp a Morris at 
 those yeares, which Hereford here doth reckon? The great Grand- 
 fathers, Fathers, of three-score such nimble footed Linnen-Armourers 
 will neuer be able to put into the Needle of life, a Threed so long, so 
 strong, and so round : no, they eate away their dayes too fast, and 
 drinke vp their nights in surfeits: hee that can draw out the wire of 
 his age (in these licentious cockny-endcs of the worldc,) to fortie 
 yeares, is an olde man, and giues vp his cloake for riding on a 
 Hobby-horse, or for playingany youthful! tricks besides. 
 
 A Taylor at fortie yeares, is glad to trust to his yard, and 
 walkes leaning vpon that. A Fencer at thirtie (by reason of his 
 knocking) takes any foyle, to be a staffe to his age. A waterman 
 at fiftie yeares, falles from water to drinking of Ale, onely to keepe 
 life and soule together. A Vintner at threescore, has legges no 
 bigger then a Crane, they are so wasted with running. But here 
 is a doozen of yonkers, that have hearts of Oakeat fourescore yeares : 
 backes of steele at fourescore and ten, ribbes of yron at a hundred, 
 bodies sound as Belles, and healthfull (according to the Russian 
 proverb) as an Oxe when they are trauelling downe the hill, to make 
 that one hundred and twentie. 
 
 These, shewed in their dauncing, and moouing vp and downe, as 
 if Mazolborne hilles, in the verie depth of Winter, when all their 
 
A MORRIS DAUNCE. 
 
 11 
 
 lieades are couered (in steade of white wooliie cappes) with snow, 
 had shooke and dauuced at some earth-quake. 
 
 Shall any man, lay blame on these good old Fathers, because at 
 such yeares they had not spent all their wild-oates ? No, we com- 
 mend (as Tully saith) a young man, that smells somewhat of the old 
 signior, and can but counterfeit grauitie in his cheekes ; and shall 
 we not heaue up with praises an old man, that at one hundred and 
 eight yeares end, can rake his dead embers abroad, and shew some 
 coales of the lustie Iuuentus glowing in him euen then ? Suche an 
 olde Mad cappe deserues better to bee the stuffing of a Cronicle, 
 then Charing Crosse does for loosing his rotten head, which (through 
 age being wind-shaken) fell off, and was trod vpon in contempt. 
 Were old Stowe aliue, here were Tabring work enough for his pen : 
 but howsoeuer, so memorable a monument of man, shall not wither 
 in obliuion, if the svveete ApriU shewers which drop from the Muses 
 water, can make it grow vp and flourish. 
 
 A dishonour were it to Poets and all Pen-men, if acts of this 
 worth should not Encomiastically be celebrated and recorded. For 
 heereby the Vertuous are heartned: if you will not believe me, 1 will 
 prooue it by strong reasons. Whoremongers, drunkards, and such 
 like fellowes, (who are euery hower wrastling with Vices and Vil- 
 jaines, which are harder to be tripped downe then the Guard) that 
 in their youthfull dayes spend more at a Tauerne reckoning, or in 
 a Vaulting-schoole, in one houre, then their Great Grandfathers 
 did (among all their neighbours^) in a whole Christmas. These 
 (1 say) drew out a short, a blacke, a rotten, and gowtie threed of 
 old age. But it is therefore an argument, that these white-bearded 
 youths of Herefordshire were neuer given to wine or to wenches, 
 both which are sharper then the destinies Sheeres, to cut in sunder 
 the very bottome of the soundest life. 
 
 Old age is to all men for the most part a disease; It is to some 
 the cough ; they do nothing but spit ; to some, the Palsey : If these 
 were rotten, they would shake themselues to peeces: to others, it is 
 the Gowte, they hauc not a good legge to throw at a Dogge, and 
 were ill to be cowardly souldiers, because they could not runne, vnles 
 the running Gowte set them forward : But old age in Hereford - 
 shire , neither spits nor spawles, feelcs no aches, nor oes in his bones. 
 
12 
 
 A MORRIS DAUNCE. 
 
 Oh ! if all the people in the kingdome, should haue their dayes 
 stretched out to the length of three mens, Clearks and Sextons 
 might go hang themselves in the belropes: they would haue colde 
 doings: prodigal heires might beg, they should hardly find an 
 Almanacke that would tell them w hen their lands should come to 
 their hands by the death of their Fathers, for they themselues would 
 haue white Beardes, before they could arriue at their full age. It 
 were no hoping after dead mens shooes > for both vpper-leather and 
 soles would bee worne out to nothing. 
 
 As great pittie it were (O old Margaret , or rather new Mayd- 
 Marion ) that all mens wiues (especially those that like Dutch- 
 watches have larums in their mouths) should last so long as thou 
 hast done: h owe would the world be plagued? Loue would die: 
 the generation of mankinde, would in a short time be dried vp, and 
 shrunke away to nothing. 
 
 But a far more lamentable cause of sorow would it be, if Mayden- 
 heades should stand so long vpon Wenches shoulders, as yours 
 (Mother Marget) hath done vpon your owne, because if they did 
 so, they would bee seeded (like olde tough Turne-vps) and so not 
 bee worth the cutting. 
 
 Alas! what doe I see? Hold Taborer, stand Hobby-horse, 
 Morris-dancers, lend vs your hands, behold one of the nimble-legd 
 old gallants, is by chance falne downe, and is either so heauy, so 
 weary, so vnactive of himselfe, or else flue of his fellowes are of such 
 little strength, that all their Armes are put under him (as Leauers) 
 to lift him vp, yet the good olde boyes cannot set him on his 
 feete. Let him not lie for shame, you that have (all this 
 while) seene him daunce, and though hee bee a 
 little out of his part, in the verie last Act 
 of all, yet hisse at nothing, but rather 
 (because it is beg’d for God’s 
 sake.) 
 
 Summi Iouis causa plaudite. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
THE COLD YEARE, 
 
 1614. 
 
 9L ©eepe §>noto: 
 
 IN WHICH 
 
 MEN AND CATTELL HAUE PERISHED, 
 
 TO THE 
 
 GENERALL LOSSE OF FARMERS, GRASIERS, HUSBANDMEN, 
 AND ALL SORTS OF PEOPLE IN THE COUNTRIE ; AND 
 NO LESSE HURTFULL TO CITIZENS. 
 
 WRITTEN DIALOGUE-WISE, IN A PLAIN E FAMILIAR TALKE 
 BETWEENE A LONDON SHOPKEEPER, AND A NORTH- 
 COUNTRY-MAN. 
 
 In which, the Reader shall find many Ihinges for his profit. 
 
 MPR1NTED AT LONDON FOR THOMAS LANGLEY IN IUIE 
 LANE, WHERE THEY ARE TO BE SOLD. 
 
 1615 . 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Although it was not the intention of the Editor 
 of this miscellany, to have admitted any thing pos- 
 sessed of a mere temporary or local interest in the 
 collection, yet the following Tract having met his 
 eye at a moment when the record of such a con- 
 tinued severity of weather became particularly in- 
 teresting, he was induced to give it a perusal; and 
 as it afforded him much amusement, he presumed, 
 (perhaps too hastily) that it might at this most ex- 
 traordinary season be not unacceptable to the reader, 
 its brevity and its rarity were also taken into the 
 account, and decided its reimpression. 
 
 Stowe refers to the severity of the winter of 
 1613-14, in his Annals, thus “ The 17 th of January 
 1614, began a great Frost, with extreame Snow, 
 which continued untill the 14th of February, and 
 albeit the violence of the Frost and Snow some 
 dayes abated, yet it continued freezing and snowing 
 much or little untill the 7th of March/' 
 
 Stowe’s Annals, continued by Howes Edit. 1631, p. 1023. 
 
Of this Tract, there appears to have been two 
 editions in the same year, both printed for Thomas 
 Langley. In the valuable library of George Hib- 
 bert, Esq. is a copy of the first, with which the 
 present has been collated. 
 
 The Editor has much pleasure in announcing 
 that the reception which the first number of the 
 Miscellanea Antigua Anglicana has experienced, and 
 the approbation of his plan by a numerous list of 
 the lovers of our early literature, encourage him to 
 proceed; the utmost exertion will be made to ren- 
 der the succeeding numbers of equal interest. 
 
THE GREAT SNOW. 
 
 A DIALOGUE. 
 
 THE SPEAKERS: 
 
 A CITIZEN. A NORTH-COUNTRY-MAN. 
 
 North- Country-Man. 
 
 OD saue you Sir : here’s a Letter directs me 
 to such a signe as that hanging ouer your 
 doore ; (and if I be not deceaued) this is 
 the Shoppe: Is not your name Maister N.B ? 
 
 Cit then . 
 
 N. B. is my name (Father :) What is your 
 businesse: 
 
 Nor. I have Letters to you out of the North . 
 
 Cit. From whom, I pray? 
 
 Nor. From one Maister G. M. of Y. 
 
 Cit. I know him very well ; and if I may heare by you that 
 he is in health, I shall thinke you a bringer of good and happie 
 newes. 
 
 Nor. Good and happy newes doe I bring you then ; (for 
 thankes be to God) health and hee haue not parted this many a 
 yeare. 
 
 Cit. Trust me, your tidings warmes my hearj, as cold as the 
 weather is. 
 
4 
 
 OF STRANGE ACCIDENTS 
 
 Money is more 
 comfortable to 
 a Cittizen, 
 than burnt 
 JVine. 
 
 No such mat- 
 ter. 
 
 Oh braue 
 doings. 
 
 I beleeue it. 
 
 Nor . A Cup of muld Sacke (I thinke) would doe you more 
 good. But to put a better heate into you* I haue from your 
 Friende and mine, brought you two Bagges full of comfort, each 
 of them weighing a hundred pound of currant English money. 
 
 Citt. Birlady Sir, the Sacke you spake of, would not goe 
 downe halfe so merrily, as this newes : For Money was neuer so 
 welcome to Londoners (especially tradesmen) as it is now. 
 
 Nor. Why: Is it as scanty heere, as with vs: I thought if 
 the Siluer age had been any where, your Cittie had challenged 
 it. Mee thinkes our Northerne Climate, should onely be without 
 Siluer Mynes, because the Sunne (the soueraigne breeder of rich 
 Mettals) is not so prodigall of his beames to vs. Why, I haue 
 been told, that all the Angels of the Kingdome fly vp and downe 
 London : Nay I haue heard, that one of our ruffling Gallants in 
 these dayes, weares more Riches on his Backe, in Hatte, Garters, 
 and Shooe-stringes, then would maintaine a good pretty Farrae 
 in our Country, and keepe a Plough-land for a whole yeare. 
 
 Cit. Wee care not how braue our Gallants goe, so their 
 names stand not in our Bookes : For when a Cittizen crosses a 
 Gentleman, hee lioldes it one of thechiefest Cheapeside-blessings. 
 
 Nor. 1 vnderstand you Sir: You care not what Cullours they 
 weare, so you keepe them not in Blacke and White. 
 
 Citt. You measure vs rightly: for the keeping of some so, 
 (that carry their heads full high) makes many a good Shop-keeper 
 oftentimes to hide his Head. So that albeit you that dwell farre 
 off, and know not what London meanes, thinke (as you say) that 
 all the Angels of the Kingdome, fly vp and downe heere. We, 
 whose Wares lie dead upon our hands for want of quicke Cus- 
 tomers, see no such matter : but if any Angels doe fly, they haue 
 either their winges broken and fly not farre ; or else are caught 
 like Partridges, a few in a Couie. Albeit Sir, I haue all this 
 while helde talke with you, yet mine eye hath runne ouer these 
 Letters, and acknowledge my selfe your debtor, in respect an Age 
 so reuerend (as your head warrants you are) hath been the Mes- 
 senger. But I hope Sir, some greater especiall businesse of your 
 owne besides, drew you to so troublesome a Jorney. 
 
 Nor. Troth Sir, no extraordinarie businesse : The Countrimans 
 
IN THIS GREAT SNOW. 
 
 O 
 
 hands are now held as well in his Pocket, as the Shopkeepers. 
 
 That drew mee to London , which drawes you Cittizens out of 
 your Houses; or to speake more truely, driues you rather into 
 your Houses. 
 
 Cit. How meane you Sir, the Weather: 
 
 Nor. The very same. I haue been an old Brier, and stood 
 many a Northerly Storme : the Windes haue often blowne bitterly An old man. 
 in my Face, Frostes haue nipped my Blood, Ysickles (you see) 
 hang at my Beard, and a hill of Snow couers my Head. I am 
 the Sonne of Winter, and so like the Father, that as hee does, I 
 loue to be seene in all places. I had as leife walke vp to the 
 knees in Snow, as to tread vpon Turkic Carpets: And therefore 
 my Jorney to see London once more ere I die, is as merry to mee, 
 as if I were a Woman and went a Gossipping; For the Earth Earth lyes in, 
 shewes now, as if shee lay inne, (All in White.) in wtllle * 
 
 Cit . Belike then you haue heard she hath been deliuered of 
 some strange prodigious Birthes, that you come thus farre, to see 
 her Child-bed ? 
 
 Nor. I haue from my Childhood spent my best daies in trauell, 
 and haue seene the wonders of other Countries, but am most in 
 loue with this of mine owne. 
 
 Cit. Where, if any be borne neuer so well proportiond, within 
 a day or two it growes to be a Monster. 
 
 Nor. You say true, and iumpe with me in that: For I haue 
 but two Eares ; yet these two Eares bring me home a thousand 
 tales in lesse than seuen daies : Some I hearken to, some I shake 
 my head at, some I smile at, some 1 thinke true, some I know 
 false. But because this world is like our Millers in the Countrey, 
 knauish and hard to be trusted ; though mine eares be mine owne, 
 and good, yet I had rather giue credit to mine Eyes, although 
 they see but badly, yet I know they will not couzen me: these 
 foure score yeares they haue not ; and that is the reason 1 haue 
 them my Guides now in this Journey, and shall be my witnesses 
 (when I get home againe, and sitte (as I hope I shall, turning a 
 Crabbe by the fire) of what wonders 1 haue seene. 
 
 Cit . In good sadnes Father, I am proud that such a heape of 
 yeers (lying on your back) you sroope no lower for them: I 
 
6 
 
 OF STRANGE ACCIDENTS 
 
 Surfets kill 
 more then the 
 Sword. 
 
 The Country 
 life and Citty 
 life compared. 
 
 Early Bridals, 
 make early 
 Burials. 
 
 come short of you by almost forty at the least, and mee thinks I 
 am both more vnlusty, and (but for head and beard) looke as 
 aged. 
 
 Nor. Oh Sir ! riotts, riotts, surfets ouernights, and early pott- 
 ing it next morning, sticke white haires vpon Young-mens chinnes, 
 when sparing dyets holds colour: Your crara’d Capons feed you 
 fatte here in London ; but our Beefe and Bacon feeds vs strong: 
 in the Countrey: Long sleepes and past-midnights-watchings, 
 dry vp your blouds, and wither your cheekes : Wee goe to bedde 
 with the Lambe, and rise with the Larke, which makes vs health- 
 full as the Spring. You are still sending to the Apothecaries, 
 and still crying out, Fetch Maister Doctor to me: But our Apothe- 
 caries shoppe, is our Garden full of Pot-hearbes; and our Docter 
 is a cloue of Garlicke : Besides, you fall to Wenching, and marry 
 heere in London , when a Stranger may thinke you are all Girles 
 in Breeches, (your chinnes are so smooth,) and like Cock-spar- 
 rows, are treading so soone as you creepe out of the shell, which 
 makes your hues short as theirs is : But in our Countrey, wee 
 hold it as dangerous to venture vpon a Wife, as into a Set-battle : 
 It was 36. eare I was prest to that Seruice ; and am now as lusty 
 and sound at heart (I praise my God) as my yoake of Bullockes, 
 that are the seruants to my Plough. 
 
 Citt. Yet I w r onder, that liauing no more Sande in the Glasse 
 of your life, how you durst set foorth, and how you could come 
 thus farre \ 
 
 Nor. How I durst set foorth ? If it were 88. againe, and all 
 the Spanish Fire-w r orkes at Sea, I would thrust this old battered 
 Breast-plate into the thickest of them. Wee haue Trees in our 
 Towne that beare Fruite in Winter ; I am one of those Winter- 
 plummes: And though I taste a little sower, yet I haue an Oake 
 in my Belly, and shall not rotte yet (I hope) for all this blustering 
 weather. 
 
 Citt. It were pittie you should yet be felled downe, you may 
 stand (no doubt) and grow many a faire yeare. 
 
 Nor. Yes Sir, my growing must now be downew r ard, like an 
 Eare of Corne when it is ripe. But I beseech you tell mee, are 
 all those Newes currant, which wee heare in the Country : 
 
IN THIS GREAT SNOW. 
 
 7 
 
 Cit, What are they pray ? 
 
 Nor . Marry Sir, that your goodly Riuer of Thames, (I call The Thames a 
 it yours, because you are a Cittizen ; and because it is the Nurse ^urse to Lo r*- 
 that giues you Milke and Hony) Is that (as tis reported) all frozen 
 ouer againe, that Coaches run vpon it ? 
 
 Cit. No such matter. 
 
 Nor, When I heard it, I prayed God to helpe the Fishes ; it 
 would be a hard world with them, if their Houses were taken 
 ouer their heads. Nay Sir, I heard it constantly affirmed, that 
 all the youth of the Cittie, did muster vpon it in battaile Array, 
 one halfe against the other: And by my troth, I would haue 
 ambled on my bare ten-Toes a brace of hundred Miles, to haue 
 seene such a triumph. 
 
 Citt. In sadnesse (I thinke) so would thousands besides your 
 selfe: But neither hath the Riuer been this yeare (for all the 
 vehement cold) so hard-hearted, as to haue such a glassy crusted 
 floare; neither haue our Youth been vp in Armes in so dangerous 
 a Fielde: Yet true it is, that the Thames began to play a few 
 cold Christmas Gambols ; and that very children (in good Array) 
 great numbers, and with War-like furniture of Drummes, Cul- Children turn- 
 lours, Pikes, and Gunnes, (fit to their handling) haue sundry ed Souldiers. 
 times mette Armie against Armie, in most of the Fieldes about 
 the Cittie ; to the great reioycing of their Parents, and numbers 
 of beholders. 
 
 Nor. In good sooth I am sory, I was not one of those 
 standers by : I haue been brought vp as a Scholler my selfe; and 
 when I was young, our Warres were wrangling disputations: but 
 now it seemes, that Learning surfets, hauing too many Schollers; 
 
 And that wee shall need Souldiers, when such young Cockrels 
 addresse to a Battaile : It shewes like the Epitome of Warre ; and 
 it is a wonder for men to read it. Our Painters in former Ages 
 haue not drawne such Pictures. But you cut mee off from what 
 I was about t Ise to know. 
 
 Citt. What is that. Father ? 
 
 Nor. A Bird came flying into the North , and chattered, that 
 Snow fell in such abundance within and round about the Cittie 
 
8 * 
 
 The great 
 Snow 36. yeare 
 agoe. 
 
 Monsters 
 fashioned of 
 the snow in our 
 streets. 
 
 Diuers warn- 
 ings, hut no 
 amendment. 
 
 God strikes, & 
 we laugh, as 
 if he did but 
 iest. 
 
 A good distil- 
 lation 
 
 OF STRANGE ACCIDENTS 
 
 of London , that none without could enter; nor any within, passe 
 foorth. 
 
 Citt. Fables, Fables : A man may by the shadow, haue some 
 guesse how great the substance is: Your owne eye fvpon your 
 now being in London ) can witnesse that your Northren song went 
 to a wrong tune. 
 
 Nor. And yet by your fauour, I thinke you haue not seene 
 your Cittie so whited this fourtie yeares. 
 
 Cit. Indeede our Chronicles speake of one deepe Snow onely, 
 memorable to our time : and that was about 34, or 36. yeares agoe. 
 
 Nor. Nay, not so much, but of your white Beares, Bulles, 
 Lions, &c. we had the description as fully, as if with Snow-bals 
 in our hands, your Prentises and wee silly Country clownes had 
 been at their bayting. I remember when I traueld into Russia , 
 I haue there seene white Beares, and white Foxes: But some 
 credulous fooles would needes sweare vs downe, that your Cittie 
 was full of such Monsters; and that they ran aliue in the Streets, 
 and devowred people : But I see your Gyants, and tirrable heardes 
 of Beastes, haue done your Cittie good seruice; for in stead of 
 Grasse, they haue had cold Prouander, and helped to rid away 
 the greater part of your Snow. 
 
 Citt . They haue indeede: And yet albeit an Arme from 
 Heauen hath for seuerall yeares one after another, shaken Whips 
 ouer our Land, sometimes scourging vs with strange Inundations 
 of Flouds; then with mercilesse Fires, destroying whole Townes: 
 then with intollerable and killing Frostes, nipping the Fruites of 
 the earth: also for a long season, with scarcitie of Victuals, or 
 in great plentie, sold exceedingly deare : And now last of all, 
 with deepe and most dangerous Snowes. Yet (as all the former 
 lashes, the prints being worne out, are forgotten ; so of this, 
 wee make but a May-game, fashioning ridiculous Monsters of 
 that, which God in vengeance poures on our heades ; when in 
 doing so, wee mocke our owne selues, that are more monstrous 
 and vgly in all the shapes of sinne. 
 
 Nor. You melt (Sir) out of a heape of Snow, very profitable 
 and holsome instructions. 
 
IN THIS GREAT SNOW. 
 
 0 
 
 Citt. To increase which, I pray good Father, tell me what of 
 your selfe you know, or haue heard from others touching the 
 effects of this wonderfull Snow, in those Countries Northward, 
 through which you haue trauelled ? 
 
 Nor. My Countrie affaires (sometimes vsing G rasing, some- 
 times following other profitable courses, as the seasons and 
 aduantages of times lead me) haue made me or my Seruants, 
 continual traders and trauellersinto all the North parts of Eng- 
 land : And vpon mine owne knowledge I can assure you, that at 
 other times, when Winter hath but shewen his ordinarie tyrannie, 
 the Countries of Cumberland , Northumberland , Yorkshire , Lan- 
 cashire , and all those adioyning, haue been so hid in Snow, that 
 a man would haue thought, there was no more possibly to be 
 found in the world. 
 
 Citt. So then you must conclude, that the heapes of Snow in 
 those former times, being this yeare doubled and trebled, the 
 miserie that falles with it, must by consequence, be multiplyed. 
 
 Nor. Multiplyed! I haue met with some that haue come Snow es in 
 from the Peake in Darbyshire, others (since my comming to ot ]} er P arts °f 
 Towne) that haue been in Nottingham , Cambridge- shire, and the S 
 lie of Ely ; who verity beleeue (vpon the daily cryes of poore 
 people, not onely there, but in many other Countries besides) that 
 neuer any Calamitie did happen to them so full of terrour, and 
 so sodainely to vndoe them, their Wiues and Children, as this 
 Snow. 
 
 Citt. It is lamentable. 
 
 Nor. Mine eyes are witnesses (bad though they be) that some 
 Countries which stand high, shew for all the world, like the 
 Alpyne Hilles parting France and Italie : (I thanke God, in 
 younger dayes I haue trauelled that way, and therefore know 
 what I speake) for the heads of those Hilles are couerd with these 
 white Winter-lockes in the hottest dayes of Sommer. And it is 
 to be feared, that in some of our farre Countries, Sommer will 
 haue made his progresse a good way into our Land, before the 
 Earth will digest these cold Pellets off from her stomacke. 
 
 Citt. It is to be feared indeed : the more is the pitty . 
 
 Nor. Why I will tell you Sir, if you saw some places by which 
 
 c 
 
10 
 
 OF STRANGE ACCIDENTS 
 
 Freezeland 
 come from be- 
 yond Sea. 
 
 The world no 
 changeling. 
 
 Money keepes 
 her bed , and 
 is not stirring. 
 
 Old diseases 
 hardly cured. 
 
 The poore 
 Countryman s 
 misery . 
 
 His wife and 
 children. 
 
 I liaue passed but within these three weeks, you would verily 
 thinke, that Freezland were come ouer Sea, swimming on a cake 
 of Ice, and that it was lodged in England. Nay, you would, if 
 you dwelt as coldly and miserably, as some poore people of our 
 owne Nation doe, } r ou would almost sweare, that those partes of 
 England lay vnder the Frozen Zone , and scarce remember there 
 were a Sunne in Heaueu, so seldome doe his lyres cast any heate 
 vpon them. 
 
 Citt. But I pray Sir, What are the greatest hurtes and 
 miseries, that people with you (so farre from vs) complaine of? 
 And what kind of world is it with you in the Countrie: 
 
 Nor. The world with vs of the Country runns vpon the old 
 rotten wheeles; for all the Northren Cloth that is wouen in our 
 Country, will scarce make a Gowne to keepe Charitie warme, 
 shee goes so a-cold : Those that are Rich, had neuer more 
 Money; and Couetousnesse had neuer lesse pittie. There was 
 neuer in any Age, more Money stirring, (if Curraudgions would 
 let it come foorth,) nor euer in any Age more stirre to get Money. 
 Farmers now are slaues to racking prodigall Landlords; and 
 those Landlords are more seruile slaues to their owne Riots and 
 Luxurie. But these are the common Diseases of euery Kingdome, 
 and therfore but common newes. But your desire Sir, is to 
 know how wee, spend the dayes of our frosty and snowv-lock’d 
 Age in the Countrie. 
 
 Citt. That I would heare indeed. Father. 
 
 Nor. Beleeue me Sir, as wickedly (you must thinke) as you 
 can heere in the Cittie : It goes as hard with vs, as it does with 
 you, if not harder. The same cold hand of Winter is thrust into 
 our bosomes, the same sharpe and bitter Ayre strikes woundes 
 into our bodyes: the same Snowy flakes and flockes of Heauen 
 fall on our Heades, and couer our Houses : the same Sunne shines 
 vpon vs, but the same Sunne scarce heates vs so much as it does 
 you. The poore Plough-mans children sit crying and blowing 
 their Nayles as lamentably, as the Children and Seruants of your 
 poore Artificers : Hunger pincheth their Cheekes as deepe into 
 the Flesh, as it doth into yours heere. You cry out, you are 
 vndone by the extreame prices of Foode and Fuell ; and wee 
 
IN THIS GREAT SNOW. 
 
 11 
 
 complaine wee are ready to die for want both of Victualles and 
 Wood. All your care is to prouide for your Wines., Children, 
 and Seruants, in this time of sadnesse : but Wee goe beyonde you 
 in cares; not onely our Wiues, our Children, and household Ser- 
 uants, are vnto vs a cause of sorrow, but wee grieue as much to 
 beholde the miserie of our poore Cattell (in this frozen-hearted 
 season) as it doth to looke vpon our owne Affliction. Our Beastes 
 are our faythfull Seruants, and doe their labours truely when wee 
 set them to it: they are our Nurses that giue vs Milke; they are 
 our Guides in our Journies ; they are our partners, and helpe to 
 inrich our State; yea, they are the very Upholders of a poore 
 Farmers Lands and Liuings. 
 
 Alas then ! what Maister (that loues his Seruant as hee ought) 
 but would almost breake his owne heart-stringes w r ith sighing, 
 to see those pine and mourne, as they doe. Nay, to see Flockes 
 of Sheepe lustie and liuely to day, and to morrow, lying in heapes 
 strangled in the Snow. 
 
 The Ground is bare, and not worth a poore handfull of Grasse, 
 the Earth seemes barren, and beares nothing; or if shee doth, 
 most vnnaturally shee killes it presently, or suffers it (through 
 cold) to perish. By which meanes, the lustie Horse abates his 
 flesh, and hanges the head, feeling his strength goe from him: 
 the Oxe standes bellowing, the ragged Sheepe bleating, the poore 
 Lambe shiuering and staruing to death. 
 
 The poore Cottager that hath but a Cow to liue vpon, must 
 feed vpon hungry meales (God knowes) when the Beast her selfe 
 hath but a bare Commons ; nay, in searching to fill her belly 
 with those hungry Meales, is perhaps on a sodaine, drowned in 
 a ditch. 
 
 Hee that is not able to bid all his cattle home, and to feast 
 them with Fodder out of his Barnes, shall scarce haue Cattell at 
 the end of Sommer to fetch in his Haruest : which charge of 
 feeding so many Mouthes, is able to eate a Country mans estate, 
 if by prouidence hee cannot preuent such stormes. Adde vnto 
 these Mischiefes, these following Miseries, that Hay (to feed 
 Cattell) is not onely excessiue deare, but so scant, that none 
 almost is to be had: the like of Straw, which is raysed to an ex* 
 
 The country- 
 mans care , 
 aloue the Cit- 
 tizen. 
 
 Kine. 
 
 Sheepe . 
 
 Horses , 
 Oxen , 
 Lamles. 
 
 Hay sold at 
 
 extreame 
 
 rates. 
 
12 
 
 OF STRANGE ACCIDENTS 
 
 ceeding price: Then the spoyling of whole Warrens, the rotting 
 of our Pastures and Meddowes : And last of all, the vndooing of 
 poore Carriers, they being not able, (by reason of deepe Waters, 
 Carriers deepe Snowes, and dangerous Wayes) either to transport com- 
 vndone. modities and benefites from vs to your Cittie, or from your Cittie 
 
 to vs. And thus haue I to satisfie your desire, giuen you in a 
 few wordes a description of an ample, and our lamentable countrie 
 Miserie, happening vnto vs, by reason of this cold and vncom- 
 fortable Weather. 
 
 Citt. The Story you haue told (albeit, it yet makes my heart 
 bleed, to thinke vpon the calamity of my poore Countreymen ;) 
 was vttered with so graue a iudgement, and in a time so well 
 befitting your age, that I kept mine eares open, and my lippes 
 lockt vppe, for I was loath to interrupt you till all was told. But 
 1 pray Sir, besides these generall hurtes (of which, the whole 
 Kingdome hath a smarting share,) what particuler accidents can 
 you report, worthy to beremembred for the strangenesse of them : 
 
 Nor. There is no mischeefe borne alone (you know :) Cala- 
 mities commonly are (by birth) Twinnes; I will therefore (like 
 one of your London Traders) giue ouer selling these sadde and 
 bad Commodities in grosse and whole-saile, and fall to put them 
 away by retaile. 
 
 Citt. As I haue been your Customer for the one, so I will pay 
 you ready thankes (as my best payment) for the other. 
 
 Nor . I wish no better ; neyther doe I promise to put these 
 Wares into your hands for the best that are, but in such sort as 
 they came to me; so I hope you will receiue them. 
 
 Citt. Gladly. 
 
 Nor. Because then you are a Cittizen your selfe, I will tell 
 you what was truely reported to mee of a mischaunce happening 
 to a couple of Londoners now since Christmas. 
 
 Citt. I hearken to you Sir. 
 
 A Tale of two Nor. They two hauing great occasion to ride into the North , 
 din H In to lt f° rtune d that in passing ouer a great Heath or Commons, on 
 
 the North. either side of which, were Woods; and beeing not aboue two 
 Miles (to their thinking) from the next towne; yet night ap- 
 proching, and the Snow (which then coldly and thickly fell) 
 
IN THIS GREAT SNOW. 
 
 13 
 
 being by the winde so sharply driuen, and beating in their faces, 
 that they could not looke vp to obserue the way ; they were 
 thereby forced to muffle themselues in their Cloakes ouer head 
 and eares, and to trust to the poore Beastes vnder them, to guide 
 them to the Towne, which they knew was not farre off. 
 
 Citt. So Sir. 
 
 Nor . But their Horses, hauing libertie of Reynes giuen them, 
 sought to receiue as little of the blustering Stormes as their Mas- 
 ters did, and turning their heads as much as they could out of it, 
 left the beaten Path (all hidden in Snow,) and forsaking the 
 direct way to the Towne, had gotten on a suddaine into one of 
 the Woods at least foure or fiue Miles : By which time, the two 
 Londoners wondring they were not yet at the Towne ; and being 
 halfe dead with cold, looked vp, and found themselues not onely 
 out of their way, but that the Sky was so darke, that they had no 
 hope to come into the right way againe : Trees they saw on euery 
 side, and thicke Groves, but not so much as the glimpse of a 
 Candle a farre off in any house, (which is as a Loadstarre to a 
 discomforted Traueller in the night,) no neither (for all their 
 listning) could they heare the voyce either of Man or Beast, to 
 assure them that people were not farre off from them. 
 
 Citt. Most lamentable. 
 
 Nor . To stay there still was dangerous ; to goe forward (they 
 knew not whither) more dangerous : of two euils, they made 
 choyce of the least; and that was, to trust to the mercy of 
 Almighty God, to preserue them in that place till morning. 
 Their Horses they tyed vp, to a cold Maunger, and to worse 
 Prouander : their Maisters had as bad an Inne, as the Seruants : 
 Meate had they none, Fire had they none, no Bedde but the 
 Earth, no Light but the Starres of Heauen. 
 
 Citt. You make Water euen stand in mine Eyes at the report. 
 
 Nor. In this dolefull estate chearing vp one another the best 
 that they could ; and walking vp and downe to keepe their 
 numbed bodyes in heate, behold, one of the two, what with cold, 
 and what with conceite of so vnfortunate an accident, fell so- 
 dainely sicke. What comfort was neere him : none, but his 
 friend, that stood at the same doore of mercie with him. 
 
 Good Guestes 
 and a lad 
 Inne. 
 
14 
 
 OF STRANGE ACCIDENTS 
 
 One of them 
 dyes. 
 
 Other strange 
 euents. 
 
 Citt. Alacke, alacke. 
 
 Nor . That dangerous cold Feauer more and more shaking 
 him; the last fitte that held him, ended both his sicknesse, and 
 his life. 
 
 Citt. Dyed hee there? 
 
 Nor. There, in the Armes of his Friend, and his mother (the 
 Earth) hee dyed. 
 
 Citt. What a terrour was this to his dessolate Companion? 
 
 Nor. How could it be otherwise ? Yet God suffering: one to 
 liue, least the Fowles of the Ayre, should have deuowred both, 
 and so their deaths not haue bin knowne. Hee, so soone as euer 
 any light from heauen shewen-foorth, tooke his way and leaue of 
 his dead Friend, to finde out some Towne; and did so: where, 
 to some of the dwellers relating the sadde storie of himselfe and 
 Friend, pittie (as it could not otherwise choose) so stirred in their 
 bosomes, that along they went with him to the dolefull place and 
 spectacle; which taking vp, and hailing bestowed due rites of 
 Buriall vpon it ; the other Friend, ouer grieuing at the losse of 
 his Companion, and at so rare and vnheard-of a Calamitie, fell 
 likewise extreamely sicke in the same Towne: And whether he 
 did recouer or not, I haue not heard. 
 
 Citt. I haue not heard of a Newes that so deepely hath strucke 
 sorrow into mee. 
 
 Nor. I beleeue you : Letblacke Cloudes fly togeather; heere 
 be more of the same sadde coloure, which I report not for cer- 
 taine truthes, but as flying Newes; and these they are. I heard, 
 that a company of Horse-men riding togeather, spyed another 
 Horseman ryding singly by himselfe, some quarter of a Mile 
 before them in plaine view, and on a sodaine was vanished cleane 
 out of sight; at which they all much wondring, considering the 
 planenesse of the way : and misdoubting the worst, noted the 
 place (so neere as they couldj where they lost a sight of him: 
 And putting Spurres to their Horse, came, and found both Man 
 and Horse falne into a Pitte of Snow, strugling and striuing for 
 life. Whereupon, leaping from their Horses, with much adoe 
 they saued both Horse and Man, and drew them foorth. In 
 labouring to doe which, not farre from him, lay three or foure 
 
IN THIS GREAT SNOW. 
 
 15 
 
 men more, and their Horses vnder them, buried in the same Pitte 
 of Snow. 
 
 Citt . To second this report of youres: A Customer of mine, 
 no longer agone then yesterday, told mee heere in my Shoppe, 
 that vpon Newmarket Heath in Cambridge shire , three men in 
 seuerall places, were found dead in the same manner. 
 
 Nor. Not vnlikely. And in many other Countries, many more, 
 both Men, Women, and Children, haue perished, that neuer will 
 come within reach of our knowledge. 
 
 Citt. It is to be feared. 
 
 Nor. Amongst so much sowre meate, I should do you wrong, 
 if I did not set one pleasing Dish before you; I will therefore 
 tell you a merry Tale of a Collier, that happened since this great 
 Snow. 
 
 Citt. I shall be glad to heare it. 
 
 Nor. I call it merry, in respect of the sodaine accident attend- 
 ing on it, albeit it fell out sadly enough for the poore Collier: 
 
 And thus it was. 
 
 Citt. Come on Sir. 
 
 Nor. In my approching neere London, I ouertooke a Collier, A Tale of a 
 and his Teame loaden, walking as stately as if they scornd to Collier. 
 carry Coales; for their pace was iust like that of Malt-mens 
 Horses when they march to London with full Sackes on their 
 backes. I asked honest Grimme , Why hee made no more haste, 
 to put heate into his Horses and him selfe, seeing the Weather 
 so cold: Not so (cryed hee) no more haste then good; Soft Fire 
 makes sweet Malt: Let mee trotte to day, that I may amble 
 more easily to morrow. If I should put my Horses into a chafe, 
 they may hap put me into such a cold sweate, as the last week a 
 Brother of mine (a Coale-carrier too) fell into, which strucke him 
 so to the heart, that five loade of Coales cannot yet warme him. 
 
 Citt. Belike then, hee tooke an extraordinary cold. 
 
 Nor. You shall heare. I prayde my black-facde Gentleman 
 to tell the Newes out: And so (his whissle lying still) he reported, Another Tale 
 That a Collier going to London with a load of Coales, hee him- °f a Collier of 
 selfe ryding by, on a little sorrie Nagge, it fortuned that a Gen- ^ 
 tleman discharging his Birding-peece at Fowle, some of the 
 
16 
 
 OF STRANGE ACCIDENTS 
 
 The Colliers 
 Horse will 
 stand on no 
 ground. 
 
 The llacke 
 Tragedie 
 
 The Collier 
 tickles it for a 
 Satyre. 
 
 Hinc illce 
 Lacrimce. 
 
 Madd horse 
 play. 
 
 small Shott flying through a Hedge, happened to tickle my fel- 
 low Colliers Nagge; which hotte showre put more courage into 
 him, then euer the Whip was able to giue him, insomuch that 
 he ran away with the Collier as fast, as if hee had been ryding to 
 Hell, to serue their Fornaces there with Fyring: the whole Teame 
 spying their Maister in his vn-vsual post-gallop, and frighted 
 with the noyse of the Peece, left the High-way (their ordinarie 
 beaten path,) and as if the Diuell had daunc’d in one of the 
 Sackes, after the Collier they ran, who cryed. Hey , and Hoe , and 
 Ree y and Gee; but none of his carterly Retlioricke was able to 
 stay them, vntill Cart and Coales were ouerthrowne, and with 
 the fall, the Axletree broken. By which time, albeit the Colliers 
 Nagge was halfe come to his wittes, yet the Collier himselfe 
 began to be starke mad. 
 
 Citt. By my fayth hee had reason. 
 
 Nor. And in that furie (quoth the other Collier) hee fell a 
 cursing of Gunnes, bade a Pox of all Powder; cryed out, It was 
 a shame, that poore harmelesse Birds could not be suffered in 
 such pittifull cold weather, to saue them-selues vnder a Bush, 
 when euery lowsie Beggar had the same libertie, but that euery 
 paltrie Peter-gunner, must shoote Fire and Brimstone at them. 
 But the wofull spectacle of his Great Coale, turnde and grinded 
 into Small, by the iogging and ioulting : and his Horses beeing 
 in such a durtie pickle, made him giue ouer cursing : So that 
 taking his Teame out of the Cart, and tying the Fore-horse to a 
 Hedge, backe gallops my fellow Goose-stealer, to the next Towne 
 for a new Axletree. In whose vnhappie blacke absence, the 
 former Bird-killer making another shoote, the whole Teame (now 
 madder then before, as beeing not vsed to such Musicke,) brake 
 from the Hedge ; and beeing out of their Croydon Coranto , vp 
 Hill, and downe Dale, they fly, as if Wild-fire had been tyed to 
 their tayles ; vntil at last, happening into a narrow Lane, deepely 
 filled vp with Snow, on they rushe : the first (like ill Companie 
 on a Shroue-tuesday) drawing on the second, and so hee the 
 third; and then not being able to turne backe, but strugling and 
 beating way in that cold passing, where none was to be had : In 
 the ende beeing tyred with striuing downe the poore Beastes fell. 
 
IN THIS GREAT SNOW. 
 
 17 
 
 and there were styffled in the Snow. Thus was the Colliers Tale 
 to mee; but what the lamentations of the other Collier were at 
 his comming backe, I thinke you may guesse. 
 
 Cit. Such, that I warrant you, he wept more warme water, 
 then euer he had at any countrie Barbers to wash his smutty Face 
 on a Satterday night. 
 
 Nor. You haue heard of some misfortunes, lately happening 
 vnto certaine Grasiers: 
 
 Cit. No indeede, Sir. 
 
 Nor. Then take it for truth and on my credite, that a good 
 company of them comming up togeather to London with great 
 store both of Sheepe and Bullocks, they lost, by reason of the 
 Snowes and deepe Wayes, so many of either (especially of Sheepe) 
 that perished in great numbers, euen on the way, and before their 
 faces, that if they had been sold to their value, it had been a 
 sufficient estate to haue maintainde a very good man, and haue 
 kept him rich all his life time. 
 
 Cit. I beleeue you: But I pray Sir, What is your opinion 
 of this strange Winter : Giue mee your iudgement I beseech you, 
 of these Frostes and Snowes; and what (in the schoole of your 
 Experience) you haue read, or can remember, may be the effects, 
 which they may produce, or which of consequence are likely now 
 to follow. 
 
 Nor. I shall doe my best to satisfie you. When these great 
 Hilles of Snow, and these great Mountaines of Yce be digged 
 downe, and be made leuell with the Waters; when these hard 
 Rockes shall melt into Riuers, and these white Fethers of Heauen 
 sticke vpon the backes of Floodes; and that sodaine Thawes shall 
 shew, that the Anger of these Winter stormes are mollified: then 
 it is to be feared, that the swift, violent, and vnresistable Land- 
 currents (or rather Torrents,) will beare downe Bridges, beate 
 downe Buildings, ouer-flow our Corne-fields, ouer-run the Pas- 
 tures, drowne our Cattell, and endanger the liues both of Man 
 and Beast, traualing on their way ; And, vnlesse Gods hand of 
 Plentie be held open, a Dearth, to strike the Land in the follow- 
 ing Sommer. 
 
 D 
 
 A Tale of 
 Grasiers. 
 
 An old Man 
 is a new Alma- 
 nacke. 
 
 What is likely 
 to happen vpon 
 this great 
 Snowe. 
 
18 
 
 OF STRANGE ACCIDENTS 
 
 Cit. You say right. This Prognostication which your Judge- 
 ment thus lookes into, did alwayes fall out to be true. 
 
 Nor. These extraordinarie Feauers (shaking a whole King- 
 dome) haue alwayes other mortall Diseases wayting vpon them. 
 
 Cit. Wee are best to feare it; and by fearing, prouide against 
 them. 
 
 Nor. I pray God (at whose commaund the Sunne sendes 
 foorth his heate, and the Windes bitter Stormes to deface the 
 fruites of it,) that in this last Affliction sent downe in Flakes from 
 the angry Element, all other Miseries may be hidden, swallowed, 
 and confounded. 
 
 Cit. I gladly, and from my heart, play the Clarke, crying, 
 Amen. 
 
 Nor. But I pray Sir, now you haue melted a great part of our 
 North-country Snow out of mee. How hath your Cittie heere 
 (with all their Castles, and S. George a horsebacke to helpe it,) 
 borne off the storme : 
 
 Cit. Marry, I will tell you how, sir: Just as our London 
 Fencers often times doe in their Challenges : Shee has taken it 
 full vpon the Head. 
 
 Nor . Mee thinkes, and 1 see it with mine eyes, it cannot hurt 
 you much ; for your Streets are fuller of people then euer they 
 w T ere. 
 
 Cit. True sir : but full Streetes, make Shoppes emptie: It’s a 
 signe that Tradesmen and Handy-crafts, haue either little to doe, 
 or else can doe little, by reason of the Weather, when they throw 
 The hurt the by their Tooles, and fall to flinging of Snow-bals. I assure you 
 fki^Snow 8 ^ Father, the tyranny of this Season, killes all trading (vnlesse in 
 villanie, which shrinks for no Weather) so that all Commerce lies 
 dead. Besides, it lessens our Markets for prouision, so that all 
 sort of Food was neuer more deare : It eates vp Firing, and almost 
 starues the Poore, who are not able to buy Coale or Wood, the 
 rates vpon euery Frostie Morning being lifted vp and raysed at 
 the pleasure of euery paultry Chandler. Men of Occupations, 
 for the most part lie still ; as Carpenters, Bricklayers, Playsterers, 
 and such like: not one of these, nor of many other, turnes 
 
IN THIS GREAT SNOW. 
 
 19 
 
 Alchimist, for (vnlesse they bee Shooe-makers) none can extract 
 or melt a penny of Siluer out of all these heapes of Snow. 
 
 Nor. You now haue giuen mee a large satisfaction. 
 
 Cit. Nay, if you should walke but along one streete onely 
 in London; and that is Thames streete, and to see their Cellers The dwellers 
 and Ware-houses full of rich Merchandize, drownd, and vtterly 
 spoyld, you would both wonder at the losse, which cannot be set 
 downe; and lament it, albeit you know it to be none of your 
 owne. 
 
 Nor. I doe already (by your report, to which I giue much 
 credite) lament it in others, as if it were mine owne. I loue not 
 these Tragicall passions, I suffer for them vpon the reporting. 
 
 But putting them by, I pray Sir, seeing I haue vnladen my selfe 
 to you here in your shop, send not you mee home like a Colliers 
 Horse, onely with an empty Sacke on my backe: let mee haue 
 some good Newes to carry with mee. 
 
 Cit. The best, and most noble, that I haue at this time, to 
 bestow vpon you, is to request you, to step into Smithfield, where The paving of 
 you shall see by the carefull prouidence, care, and industrie, of Sm d fl Ji eid - 
 our Honorable Senators (the Fathers of our Cittie) much Money 
 buried vnder that durtie Fielde, by the hyring of hundreds of 
 Labourers to reduce it (as it is reported), to the fairest and most 
 famous Market-place, that is in the whole Kingdome. 
 
 Nor. A Market-place! now trust mee, it standes fit for so Stnithfeld 
 noble a purpose, and will be a memorable Monument to after m ^deaMarket 
 Ages, of the royaltie, diligence, wisedome, and brauerie of this. 6 
 But where shall your Cheapside Market be then kept, this must 
 either hinder that, or that this: 
 
 Cit. Cheapside shall by this meanes, haue her Streetes freed 
 from that trouble, by sending it hither, if (as it is reported) it 
 proue a Market place. It will adde that beautie to that spacious 
 place, which in former times hath by Horses and Paniers, and 
 Butter-wiues, been taken from it : Nay, the very Street it selfe, by 
 this meanes, will shew like a large new Exchange, or Rialta; such 
 a commerce of Gentlemen and Cittizens will be seene there dayly 
 by walking vpon it. 
 
20 
 
 OF STRANGE ACCIDENTS, &C. 
 
 Nor . I thanke you for this Newes ; this goes with mee into 
 the North : And when I heare that the worke is finished, lie take 
 off one ten yeares of mine, because lie come vp lustily to London 
 once againe, to see such an honour to your Cittie. 
 
 Cit. And when you doe, you shall finde (as Report already 
 giues it out) besides the Market, two goodly Receiptes for W ater 
 fairely built, to adde vnto it the greater glory and beautie. 
 
 Nor . Your Cittie is full of honourable deedes ; and euer 
 may it be so. I haue troubled you long : your Mony will I bring 
 to you to Morrow morning; in the meane time, because (as durty 
 as your Streets are) I must trot vp and downe, to dispatch many 
 businesses. I will for this time, take my leaue of you ; and the 
 rather, for that (you see) it hath now left snowing. 
 
 Cit. Sir, you are most heartily wel-come. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 Sons of ®tetmtnster ; 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 THE MAD MERRY PRANKES SHE PLAYED IN HER LIFE TIME, 
 NOT ONELY IN PERFORMING SUNDRY QUARRELS 
 WITH DIVERS RUFFIANS ABOUT LONDON: 
 
 BUT ALSO IIOW VALIANTLY SHE BEHAUED HER SELFE IN 
 THE WARRES OF BOLLOINGNE. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED FOR ROBERT BIRD, AND ARE TO BE SOLD AT 
 HIS SHOP IN ST. LAWRENCE LANE, AT THE 
 SIGNE OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 1635. 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 The Reader would perhaps take hut little interest 
 in the inquiry whether the Heroine of the following 
 amusing Tract, was a real or fictitious personage; 
 yet the discussion of the question might furnish 
 a dissertation of no trifling extent. The present 
 writer, however, deems it sufficient to say, he in- 
 clines to the opinion that Long Meg, Gillian of 
 Brainford, Dobson, and others of the same stamp, 
 whose tricks have given rise to similar narrations, 
 were real characters of notoriety. 
 
 Our Heroine must have died previous to 1594, 
 in which year her exploits were exhibited in a dra- 
 matic form by my Lord Admiralls men.* 
 
 Gabriel Harvey, in his “ Peirce's Supererogation, 
 or a New Praise of the Old Asse,” London, 1600, 
 4to. pp. 145, 6, speaks of her in the following 
 terms : 
 
 “ Phy, long Megg of Westminster would have 
 bene ashamed to disgrace her Sonday bonet with 
 her Satterday witt. She knew some rules of deco- 
 rum : and although she were a lustie bounsing 
 rampe, somewhat like Galletnella, or maide Marian, 
 yet was she not such a roinish rannell, or such 
 
 * Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. p. 362. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 a dissolute gillian-fiurtes, as this wainscot-faced 
 Tomboy." 
 
 In a rare tract, entitled “ Hollands Leaguer, or 
 an Historical Discourse of the Life and Actions of 
 Dona Britanica Hollandia the Arch Mistris of the 
 Wicked Women of Eutopia ; London, printed for 
 Richard Barnes, 1632;" mention is made of a house 
 kept by Long Meg on the Southwark Side. “It was 
 out of the Citie, yet in the view of the Citie , only di- 
 vided by a delicate River; there was many handsome 
 buildings, and many hearty neighbours, yet at the 
 first foundation, it was renowned for nothing so 
 much as for the memory of that famous Amazon , 
 Longa Margarita , who had there for many yeeres 
 kept a famous infamous house of open Hospitality." 
 Prefixed to the tract is a wood cut view of the 
 house. 
 
 Most of the readers of this will recollect a large 
 stone in the Cloisters at Westminster, known by the 
 name of Long Meg : whether any relation may ex- 
 ist between this stone and our personage it is not 
 our present purpose to discuss, and the circumstance 
 is mentioned here merely on account of the coinci- 
 dence of names. 
 
 This rare tract is given to the reader with con- 
 fidence, as an amusing specimen of the popular 
 stories of our ancestors. 
 
TO THE GENTLEMEN READERS. 
 
 ENTLEMEN, to please your fantasies, 
 many men haue made many pleasant 
 jigges, as the Iests of Robin-hood, and 
 Beuis of South-hampton, and such 
 others, as serue to procure mirth, and 
 driue away melancholy. Now at last, because amongst 
 the three Doctors of health, Doctor Merryman is not 
 the least, and that longer hues a man of pleasant dis- 
 position, than a sad Saturnist; when I was idle, I be- 
 thought me of Long-Meg of Westminster, and her 
 merry pranks, as pleasant as the merriest lest that euer 
 past the Presse ; a woman she was of late memory, 
 and well beloued, spoken on of all, and knowne of 
 many ; therefore there is hope of the better acceptance. 
 
 Gentlemen, Augustus would reade our Riddles, 
 when he had tossed ouer Virgils Ileroicks, and Cicero 
 
TO THE READER. 
 
 would oft delirate after his weighty affaires; so I hope 
 you will vse Long Meg as a whetstone to mirth after 
 your serious businesse : and if shee haue any grosse 
 faults, beare with them the more patiently, 
 for that she was a woman ; and pre- 
 suming thus farre on her 
 behalfe, I bid you 
 farewell. 
 
THE CONTENTS OF THIS BOOKE. 
 
 ^HE first Chapter containeth where she was borne, how she came 
 vp to London , and how she beat the Carrier . 
 
 The second containeth, how she placed herself e at Westminster, and 
 what she did at her placing. 
 
 The third containeth, how she vsed one of the Vicars of Westminster, 
 that was a morrow Masse priest , and how she made him pay 
 his score. 
 
 The fourth containeth , a merry skirmish that was betweene her and 
 Sir lames of Castile a Spanish Knight, and what was the end 
 of their combat. 
 
 The fifth containeth, the courtesie shee used towards Souldiers, and 
 other men that carried good minds. 
 
 The sixth containeth , how she used the Bailijfe of Westminster, that 
 came into her Mistresse house, and arrested one of her friends. 
 
 The seuenth containeth , how shee vsed Woollier the singing-man of 
 Windsor, that was the great eater, and how she made him pay 
 for his break-fast. 
 
 The eighth containeth a merry jest, hozo she met a Nobleman, and 
 how she vsed both him and the watch. 
 
 The ninth containeth, how Meg went a shrouing, and how as she came 
 home she fought with the Theeues at S. lames corner, and helpt 
 Father Willis the Carrier to his hundreth markes againe. 
 
 O 
 
THE CONTENTS OF THIS BOOKE. 
 
 The tenth containeth how Harry the Hostler was prest, how she 
 vsed the Constable and Captaine, and how shee tooke presse 
 money to goe to Bulloigne . 
 
 The eleuenth containeth hozv she beat the French-men from the walles 
 of Bulloigne, and behaued her selfe so valiantly, that the King 
 gaue her eight pence a day for her life. 
 
 The twelfth containeth her combate shee had with a Frenchman 
 before the walls of Bulloigne, and what was the issue of the 
 combat. 
 
 The thirteenth containeth her comming into England, and how she 
 zvas married , and how she behaued herselfe to her Husband. 
 
 The fourteenth containing a pleasant jest, how she vsed the angry 
 Miller of Epping in Essex. 
 
 The fifteenth of the mad prank shee plaid with a Water-man of 
 Lambeth. 
 
 The sixteenth how shee kept a house at Islington, and what lawes 
 she had there to be obserued. 
 
 The seuenteenth how she vsed lames Dickins, that was called huf- 
 fing Dicke. 
 
 The eighteenth how shee zvas sicke, and visited by a Frier who en- 
 joyned her Penance, and what absolution she gaue him after 
 for his paines. 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE AND PRANKES 
 
 £ong jflrtj; of Westminster. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Containeth where she was borne , how she came vp to London , and 
 how she beate the Carrier. 
 
 ^ the time of Henry the eighth of famous 
 memory, there was borne of very honest and 
 wealthy Parents, a Maid called for her ex- 
 cesse in heighth, Long Meg : for she did not 
 onely passe all the rest of her Country in the 
 length of her proportion, but euery limbe was 
 so fit to her talnesse, that she seemed the 
 picture and shape of some tall man cast in a womans mould. 
 This Meg growing to the age of eighteene, would needs come vp 
 to London to serue, and to learne City fashions: and although 
 her friends perswaded her to the contrar}', yet forsooth she had 
 determined, and vp she would. Wherefore she resolued to come 
 vp, with a Carrier a neighbour of hers, called Father Willis , and 
 so she did, accompanied with three or foure Lasses more, who 
 likewise came to London to seek seruice. Well, hauing taken 
 their leaue of their friends, forward they goe on their Journey, 
 and by long trauell at last got within the sight of London, which 
 joyed their hearts greatly. But when they drew nigh, her fellow 
 
 u 
 
2 
 
 THE LIFE AND PRANKS OF 
 
 partners waxed sad ; which Meg espying, cheared them vp thus : 
 What Lasses in a dumpe, and we so nigh London ? cheare vp 
 your hearts; though we be come from our friends, yet here shall 
 we haue good Mistresses, that will allow vs good wages : here at 
 London may wee winne gold and weare gold ; and there are not 
 so many Maides before vs, but we may finde husbands as well 
 as the rest: all is not broken stuffe the Carrier brings, and if it 
 were, what then? that the eye sees not, the heart rues not; let vs 
 doe well, and we shall haue well. Tush Meg, quoth one of her 
 fellowes, it is not that grieues me ; but father Willis the Carrier 
 you know is a hard man, and he asketh more than wee haue in 
 our purses, for letting vs ride a little on his packsaddles. If that 
 be all, quoth Meg , feare not. He speake the Carrier so faire, and 
 if words will not preuaile, lie so rib-roast him with a cudgell, as 
 he shall wish he had neuer beene Cole-carrier to such shrewd 
 wenches. This somewhat cheared them ; and euen as they were 
 in this talke. Father Willis ouertooke them, and seeing they were 
 beyond Islington ready to enter into Saint Iokn’s street, he de- 
 manded money of them for riding. What will you haue of vs, 
 quoth Meg? Marry quoth Father Willis , ten shillings a peece. 
 What? what? answered she, you are a merry man, ten shillings 
 a peece, ’tis more than we haue in our purses: no Father Willis , 
 you are our Countrey-man and our neighbour, and we are poore 
 wenches, and farre from our friends, you shall haue a gallon of 
 Wine, and if euer we come to keepe houses of our owne here in 
 London, looke for amends ; in the meane time to make vp the 
 bargaine, you shall haue of euery one of vs a kisse for a favour. 
 At this the Carrier storm’d and Meg smilde, which made him so 
 mad, that he swore if they would not pay him his money, he 
 would cudgell ten shillings out of their bones. 
 
 Marry content, quoth Meg , and she vp with her staffe and 
 laid him on the shoulders, where shee so beswinged the Carrier 
 and his man, that poore Father Willis desired her for Gods sake 
 to hold her hands. Not I base knaues, quoth shee, vnlesse vpon 
 conditions, and that is this, that first thou bestow vpon each of 
 us an Angell for a handsell to our good lucke hereafter in Lon- 
 don; and that thou sweare, not to depart out of this Towne till 
 
LONG MEG OF WESTMINSTER. 
 
 .3 
 
 thou hast placed vs all three with Mistresses: otherwise, as I am 
 a true Lancashire Lasse, I will so bumbaste thee, as all Carriers 
 shall take examples by thee for displeasing a Countrey wench. 
 
 The Carrier hauing felt the weight of her armes, thought 
 better to giue three Angells, than to haue so many lambasts as 
 she would bestow vpon him ; and therefore not onely out with 
 his Pouch, and gaue them the coyne, but swore not to depart 
 before he had seene them placed. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Containing how he placed her in Westminster , and what sliee did at 
 
 her placing . 
 
 A FTER the Carrier had set vp his Horse, and dispatcht his 
 lading, hee remembred his Oath, and therefore bethought 
 him how he might place these three Maides: with that hee called 
 to minde that the Mistresse at the Eagle in Westminster, had 
 spoken diuers times to him for a seruant, he with his Carriage 
 passed ouer the fields to her house, where he found her sitting 
 and drinking with a Spanish Knight called Sir lames of Castile , 
 Doctor Skelton and Will Sommers ; told her how hee had brought 
 vp to London three Lancashire Lasses, and seeing she was oft 
 desirous to haue a Maid, now she should take her choyce which 
 of them she would haue. 
 
 Marry quoth shee (being a very merry and a pleasant woman) 
 Carrier thou commest in good time, for not onely I want a Maid, 
 but heere bee three Gentlemen that shall giue me their opinions, 
 which of them I shall haue. With that the Maids were bidden 
 come in, and she intreated them to giue their verdict. Streight 
 as soone as they saw Long Meg , they began to smile ; and Doc- 
 tor Skelton in his mad merry veine, blessing himselfe, began 
 thus: 
 
 Domine, Domine, vnde hoc ? 
 
 What is she in the gray cassock ? 
 
 Me thinkes she is of a large length. 
 
 Of a tall pitch, and a good strength. 
 
4 
 
 THE LIFE AND PRANKS OF 
 
 With strong armes and stiffe bones 
 This is a wench for the nones. 
 
 Her lookes are bonny and blithe, 
 
 She seemes neither lither nor lithe. 
 
 But young of age, 
 
 And of a merry visage, 
 
 Neither beastly nor bowsie, 
 
 Sleepy nor drowsie, 
 
 But faire fac’d and of a good size, 
 
 Therefore Hostesse, if you be w r ise. 
 
 Once be ruled by me, 
 
 Take this wench to thee. 
 
 For this is plaine, 
 
 Shee’l doe more worke than these twaine, 
 
 I tell thee Hostesse, I doe not mocke. 
 
 Take her in the gray cassocke. 
 
 What is your opinion, quoth the Hostesse to Sir lames of 
 Castile ? Question with her, quoth he, what she can do, and then 
 He giue you mine opinion : and yet first Hostesse, aske Will 
 Sommers opinion. Will smiled, and swore that his Hostesse 
 should not haue her, but king Harry should buy her. Why so 
 Will , quoth Doctor Skelton ? Because (quoth Will Sommers) that 
 she shall be kept for breed : for if the King w'ould marry her to 
 long Sanders of the Court, they would bring forth none but 
 souldiers. Well, the Hostesse demanded what her name was? 
 Margaret forsooth, quoth she. And what worke can you doe? 
 Faith little Mistresse (quoth she) but handy labour, as to wash 
 and w ring, to make cleane a house, to brew r , bake, or any such 
 drudgery : for my needle, to that I haue beene little vsed to. 
 Thou art, quoth the Hostesse, a good lusty wench, and therefore 
 I like thee the better : I haue here a great charge, for I keepe a 
 victualling house, and diuers times there come in swaggering 
 fellowes, that when they haue eat and dranke, will not pay what 
 they call for; yet if thou take the charge of my drinke, I must 
 be answered out of your wages. Content Mistresse quoth she, 
 for while I serue you, if any stale Cutter comes in, and thinkes to 
 
LONG MEG OF WESTMINSTER. 
 
 5 
 
 pay the shot with swearing, hey, gogs wounds ; let me alone, lie 
 not onely (if his clothes be worth it) make him pay ere hee passe, 
 but lend him as many bats as his crag will carry, and then throw 
 him out of doores. At this they all smiled. Nay Mistresse, quoth 
 the Carrier, J ti« true, for my poore pilch here is able with a paire 
 of blew shoulders to sweare as much ; and with that he told them 
 how she had vsed him at her comming to London. 1 cannot 
 thinke, quoth Sir lames of Castile , that she is so strong. Try 
 her, quoth Skelton , for I haue heard that Spaniards are of 
 wonderfull strength. 
 
 Sir lames in a brauery would needs make experience, and 
 therefore askt the Maide, if she durst change a box on the eare 
 with him : I sir, quoth she, that I dare, if my Mistresse will giue 
 me leaue. Yes Meg, quoth she, doe thy best. And with that it 
 was a question who should stand first. Marry that Twill sir, quoth 
 she; and so stood to abide Sir lames his blow ; who forcing him- 
 selfe with all his might, gaue her such a box, that she could 
 scarcely stand, yet shee stirred no more than a post. Then Sir 
 lames he stood, and the Hostesse willed her, not spare her 
 strength. No, quoth Skelton, and if she fell him downe, lie giue 
 her a paire of new hose and shoone. Mistresse, quoth Meg, 
 (and with that she strooke vp her sleeue) here is a foule fist, and 
 it hath past much drudgery, but trust me I thinke it will giue a 
 good blow: and with that she raught at him so strongly, that 
 downe fell sir lames at her feet. By my faith quoth Will Som- 
 mers, she strikes a blow like an Oxe, for she hath strooke down 
 an Asse. At this they all laught. Sir lames was ashamed, and 
 Meg was entertained into seruice. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Containing how she vsed one of the Vicars of the Church, that sung 
 Masse, and how she made him pay his score. 
 
 I T fortuned that not long after shee was placed, but her Mis- 
 tresse liked passing well of her; and Meg proued so good a 
 Wench, that she was cal'd of euery body Long Meg of Westmin- 
 
THE LIFE AND PRANKES OP 
 
 r 6 
 
 ster : much talke went on her, shee was in euery man’s mouth, 
 for her talnesse and her strength, insomuch that one of the Vicars 
 of Westminster, that was a tall lusty lubber, and a stout Franion, 
 who trusted much of his strength, thought to buckle with her, 
 and to giue her the ouerthrow. 
 
 Now sir his custome was euery morning after Masse, hee 
 would come in and call for a pot of Ale and a toste, and euer he 
 set it vpon the score, till it came to a Crowne or a Noble, and 
 then he paid. One frosty morning amongst the rest, he came 
 with halfe a dozen of his friends, whom he had made priuate to 
 his practice, and cal’d for Ale. Meg was ready, and brought 
 Master Vicar his morning draught. After he and his com- 
 panions had drunk a while, he said, he was come to cleere his 
 score, and askt what was on it? Marry Master Vicar, quoth Meg , 
 just fiue shillings and three pence. Fiue shillings and three 
 pence, quoth he ; why I tell thee foule Stallion, I owe but three 
 shillings and a penny, and no more shalt thou haue of me. What 
 a coozening queane haue you got here Hostesse, that misreckons 
 mee at one time but two shillings and two pence ? she may well 
 be cal’d Long Meg of Westminster. 
 
 I haue referred all to my Maid, quoth the Hostesse, and I 
 maruell shee would deale worse with you than with all the neigh- 
 bours; but howsoeuer, shift it betweene you two. 
 
 The foule ill take me Mistresse, quoth Meg , if I misreckon 
 the limmer Lowne one penny; and therefore Vicar I tell thee. 
 Tore thou goe out of these doores, lie make thee pay euery far- 
 thing, if thy Cap be of wooll. 
 
 Away you foule rake-sham’d whore, quoth he, If thou pratest 
 to mee, lie lay thee at my foote. Marry there goes the game, 
 quoth Meg, we’ll to it for a plucke or two, I’le giue the Vicar 
 the first handsell; and with that she reach’d the Vicar a box on 
 the eare, that he reel’d againe. The Vicar stept to her, and 
 together they goe by the eares; where betweene them was many 
 a sore blow. The Vicars head was broken, Megs clouts were 
 puld off, and he held her by the haire of the head. The Vicar 
 was shauen, and so Meg could take no vantage, but at last shee 
 pummeld him so, that hee was cleane out of breath, and then 
 
LONG MEG OF WESTMINSTER. 
 
 7 
 
 Meg (as lusty as shee was at the first) tooke Master Vicar by 
 both the eares, and holding his head to a post, ask’d him, how 
 much he owed her? Marry quoth he, three shillings and a penny. 
 Then Knaue, quoth she, must I knocke out of your bald pate, 
 two shillings and twopence more, and so oftentimes will I wring 
 your head against the wall : and with that shee began to sing a 
 faire plaine song betweene the post and Master Vicars pate. 
 But hee in his triple voice cried out. Fine shillings and three 
 pence, fiue shillings and three pence. With that she swore shee 
 would not let him goe till hee did lay downe the mony: which 
 he did; and for his jest was wel beaten home to his chamber. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Containing the merry skirmish that was betweene her and Sir lames 
 of Castile a Spanish Knight, and what was 
 the end of their combat , 
 
 T HERE was a great Suter to Megs Mistresse, called Sir lames 
 of Castile, to winne her loue : but her affection was set on 
 Doctor Skelton ; so that Sir lames could get no grant of any 
 fauour. Whereupon he swore, if hee knew who were her Para- 
 mour, hee would runne him thorow with his Rapier. The Mis- 
 tresse (who had a great delight to bee pleasant,) made a match 
 betweene her and Long Meg, that she should goe drest in Gen- 
 tlemans apparell, and wdth her sword and buckler goe and meet 
 sir lames in Saint Georges field, if she beat him, she should for 
 her labour haue a new Petticote. Let me alone, quoth Meg, 
 the deuill take me if I lose a petticote. And with that her Mis- 
 tris deliuered her a suit of wdiite Sattin, that was one of the 
 Guards that lay at her house. Meg put it on, and tooke her 
 whinyard by her side, and away she went into Saint Georges 
 fields to meet Sir lames. Presently after came Sir lames, and 
 found his Mistris very melancholy, as women haue faces that are 
 fit for all fancies. What aile you sweet heart, quoth he, tell 
 me ? hath any man wronged you ? if he hath, be he the proudest 
 
8 
 
 THE LIFE AND PRANKS OF 
 
 champion in London, He liaue him by the eares, and teach him 
 to know. Sir lames of Castile can chastise whom he list. Now 
 (quoth she) shall I know if }^ou loue me, a squaring long Knaue 
 in a white Sattin doublet, hath this day monstrously misused me 
 in words, and I haue no body to reuenge it; and in a brauery 
 went out of doores, and bad the proudest champion I had come 
 into Saint Georges fields, and quit my wrong if they durst: now 
 Sir lames if euer you loued mee, learne the knaue to know how 
 he hath wronged me, and I will grant whatsoeuer you will request 
 at my hands. 
 
 Marry that I will, quoth he, and for that you may see how 
 I will vse the knaue, goe with me, you and Master Doctor Skel- 
 ton , and be eye-witnesses of my manhood. 
 
 To this they agreed, and all three went into Saint Georges 
 fields, where Long Meg was walking by the wind-mils. 
 
 Yonder (quoth she) walkes the villain that abused me. Follow 
 me Hostesse, quoth Sir lames , lie goe to him. As soone as hee 
 drew nigh, Meg began to settle herselfe, and so did Sir lames: 
 but Meg past on as though she would haue gone by. Nay sirrah, 
 stay quoth Sir lames, you and I part not so, we must haue a bout 
 ere we passe, for 1 am this Gentlewomans Champion, and flatly 
 for her sake will haue you by the eares. Meg replied not a word : 
 but only out with her sword, and to it they went. At the first 
 bout Meg hit him on the hand, and hurt him a little, but en- 
 dangered him diuers times, and made him giue ground, following 
 so hotly, that shee strucke Sir lames' weapon out of his hand ; 
 then when she saw him disarm’d, shee stept within him, and 
 drawing her Ponyard, swore all the World should not saue him. 
 Oh save mee Sir (quoth hee) I am a Knight, and ’tis but for a 
 Womans matter, spill not my blood. Wert thou twenty Knights, 
 quoth Meg, and were the King himselfe heere, hee should not 
 save ihy life, unlesse thou grant mee one thing. Whatsoever it 
 bee quoth Sir lames . Marry quoth shee, that is, that this night 
 thou wait on my trencher at Supper at this womans house, and 
 when Supper is done, then confesse me to be thy better at weapon 
 in any ground in England. I will do it sir (quoth he) as I am 
 a true Knight. With this they departed, and sir lames went 
 
LONG MEG OF WESTMINSTER. 
 
 9 
 
 home with his hostesse sorrowfull and ashamed, swearing that his 
 adversary was the stoutest man in England. 
 
 Well, Supper was provided, and Sir Thomas Moore and divers 
 other Gentlemen bidden thither by Skeltons means, to make up 
 the Jest: which when sir lames saw invited, hee put a good face 
 on the matter, and thought to make a slight matter of it, and 
 therefore beforehand told Sir Thomas Moore what had befallen 
 him, how entring in a quarrell of his hostesse, hee fought with a 
 desperate Gentleman of the Court, who had foiled him, and given 
 him in charge to wait on his trencher that night. Sir Thomas 
 Moore answered Sir lames , that it was no dishonour to be foyled 
 by a Gentleman, sith Cccsar himselfe w r as beaten backe by their 
 valour. 
 
 As thus they were discanting of the valour of Englishmen, in 
 came Meg marching in her mans attire : even as shee entered in 
 at the doore. This, Sir Thomas Moore (quoth Sir lames ) is that 
 English Gentleman, whose prowesse I so highly commend, and 
 to whom in all valour I account my selfe so inferiour. And Sir, 
 quoth shee, pulling off her Hat, and her haire falling about her 
 eares, hee that so hurt him to day, is none other but Long Meg of 
 Westminster , and so vou are all welcome. At this all the com- 
 pany fell in a great laughing, and Sir lames was amazed, that a 
 woman should so wap him in a whinyard: well, hee as the rest 
 was faine to laugh at the matter, and all that supper time to wait 
 on her trencher, who had leave of her Mistris, that shee might 
 be master of the feast: where with a good laughter they made 
 good cheere. Sir lames playing the proper Page, and Meg sitting 
 in her Maiesty. Thus was Sir lames disgraced for his loue, and 
 Meg after counted for a proper woman. 
 
 THE FIFTH CHAPTER. 
 
 Containing the courtesie shee used towards Souldiers , and other men 
 that carried good minds . 
 
 T HERE resorted to the house where Meg w r as resident, all 
 sorts of people, and the more for to see her, insomuch that 
 shee was famoused amongst all estates, both rich and poore, but 
 
10 
 
 THE LIFE AND PRANKS OF 
 
 chiefly of them which wanted or were in distresse, for whatsoever 
 shee got of the rich (as her gettings were great) shee bestowed it 
 liberally on them that had need : there was no poore neighbour 
 dwelling nigh, whom shee would not releeue : and if shee had 
 seene one come in, that looked like a man, and was in distresse, 
 if hee called for a pot of Beere, and had no more money in his 
 purse than would pay for his pot, shee would straight of her owne 
 accord, set before him Bread and Beefe : and if the man sayd hee 
 wanted money, eate knaue (quoth shee) for they must eate that 
 are hungry, and they must pay that haue money: And when he 
 had done, shee would giue him pence in his purse, and so let him 
 goe : for this cause was she generally loued of all good fellowes 
 about the City. On a day there came a poore Souldiour to the 
 house, that was in great distresse, simply attired, and worse 
 maimed, and sitting him downe, called for a pot of Beere, and 
 with that fetcht a great sigh. How now man quoth Meg ? what 
 cheere? faint not, after a deare yeere comes a cheape, an ounce 
 of care payes not a dramme of debt: bee merry and fall to some 
 service, for such idle slaues as thou art, are moathes of the Com- 
 mon-wealth, that take no other delight but to live of the sweat of 
 other mens browes. Thou art big enough, and God hath done 
 his part in thee, a man proper enough, and now for to liue in this 
 distresse ? if I were, a man, by Cockes bones I would rather with 
 my sword teare money out of the peasants throats, than liue in 
 this want: but see the slavish and base humors of Cowards, that 
 for feare live in misery. 
 
 Oh Meg (quoth hee) you may say what you please, because 
 you are a woman, but divers in the City haue knowne mee, and 
 seene the day when I lived like a man; but falling into extreame 
 sicknesse, so lost my seruice, and now beeing recovered of my 
 health, because I am poore, I cannot get entertainement : and 
 for to picke a pocket, to filch any thing out of a house, or to 
 steale a sheete from the hedge, or to rob any poore Man, Women, 
 or Children as they travel, I hold it in scorne, and had rather bee 
 famisht, than incurre such base discredite. Marry, now that dis- 
 tresse wrings mee, though I have beene true all my life, yet if I 
 had a good sword, and a good Horse, perhaps 1 should bee so 
 
LONG MEG OF WESTMINSTER. 
 
 11 
 
 bold as ialkewith a purse. Thou (quoth Meg) trust mee I thinke 
 thou darst not looke on a Sword? If thou darst, wilt earne a 
 brace of Angels? I will lend thee a Sword and Buckler, goe thy 
 wayes into Tuttlefieldes, and walke there, and when thou seest a 
 Servingman, a tall knave, with a blew Coat, and a white sattin 
 doublet to passe by, pick some quarrel with him, and well be- 
 swinge him, and I will beside, giue thee a new suit of apparell. 
 It is a match quoth the fellow, and after hee had drunke his pot 
 off, shee gave him his tooles and sent him packing, and straight 
 slipt on a doublet and a paire of hose, and her blew coate, tooke 
 a Sword and Buckler, and downe to Parliament staires, there 
 tooke Boat, as though she had crost the water from Lambeth to 
 the Fields. She was no sooner on land, and walking towards 
 Chelsey, but the fellow spied her, and crost the way, and began 
 to give some crosse language, whereupon together they went by 
 the eares: Meg loath to hurt, was almost put to her shifts, for 
 hee being a marvelous tall fellow, and one that feared not his 
 flesh, layd on such a load, that Meg was faine to bid him stay his 
 hand, and to discover her selfe who she was. Then home they 
 went together, and straight she gave him a faire suit of apparell, 
 a good sword and money in his purse, and bad him be a true 
 man, and get him a service, and when that money was spent, 
 come to her for more. 
 
 THE SIXTH CHAPTER. 
 
 Containing liow she used the Baily of Westminster , that came into 
 her Mistresses house , and arrested one of her friends. 
 
 O N a time it so fell out that a Gentlemen whom Meg much 
 favoured for his courteous and honest conditions, was sitting 
 drinking in the house, being a man that was greatly indebted; 
 and his creditor having intelligence where he was, went to the 
 Bayly and desired him to arrest him, but when hee told the Baily 
 where he was, hee was very loath, yet for that hee promised him 
 forty shillings, hee undertooke the matter, and away he went with 
 his processe : And comming into the place where he sate, cal'd 
 
32 
 
 THE LIFE AND PRANKS OF 
 
 for a pot of Beere; after he had sitten a little, he stept to the 
 Gentleman and arrested him, and desired the rest of the com- 
 pany in the Kings name to see the peace kept. 
 
 The Gentleman at this lookt as pale as ashes, and Meg 
 comming in, askt what’s the matter? Oh Meg (quoth he) and 
 fetcht a great sigh, I am arrested and alas utterly undone : for 
 if I go to prison, I shall have so many actions clapt on my back, 
 as I shall never be able to come out. Arrested (qd Meg) what in 
 our house? Why Master Baily is this a neighbourly part, to 
 come into our house and arrest our guests ? Well, ’tis done and 
 past, and therefore play the good fellow, take an angel quoth 
 shee and see him not, here be none that be blabbes, hold thy hand 
 here’s the; money, man, He pay it for the Gentleman my selfe. 
 No quoth the Bayly, I cannot doe it, for the Creditor stands at 
 the doore. Bid him come in quoth Meg , and we will see if we 
 can take up the matter. So the Creditor came in, but was found 
 very obstinate. Whereupon Meg made no more adoe, but rapt 
 him on the pate with a quart pot, and bad him get him out of 
 doores, for knave quoth shee, he can but go to prison, and that is 
 the worst, and there he shall not lie long, if all the friends I have 
 will serve to fetch him out. 
 
 The man went away with a good knocke, and then the Baily 
 would have bin gone with his prisoner. Nay quoth Meg , He 
 fetch a fresh pot to drinke with my friend, and then fare you well: 
 presently she came into the parlour againe, and brings a great 
 Rope in her hand, and knitting her browes : sir knave quoth she, 
 He learne thee whilest thou livest to arrest a man in our house. 
 By gogs bloud you villaine. He make you a spectacle for all such 
 Catchpoules; and with that shee fell upon him, and with the 
 helpe of another Mayd, tyed the Rope fast about his middle : 
 then quoth she to the Gentleman, away sir, shift for }'our selfe, 
 take no care, He pay the Baily his fees before he and I part. 
 Away slipt the Gentleman, as glad as a man might be. Then she 
 dragged the Baily into a backside where was a great Pond, and 
 setting him to one side, she went to the other, and bade the Baily 
 either wade thorow the Pond, or else she would dragge him 
 thorow. Whereupon the poore Baily was faine up to the chin 
 
LONG MEG OF WESTMINSTER. 
 
 13 
 
 to go thorow the water ; and when he was on the one side, she 
 ran on the other, till she made him goe thorow hue or six times : 
 then assoone as he was come out, Now Master Baily (quoth she) 
 He pay you your Fees, and so up with a holly Cudgell, and did 
 ribroast him, that he lay for almost dead : when she had done, 
 shee bade him beware and alwaies know, that their house was a 
 Sanctuary for any Gentleman, and not a place for Bailies and 
 Catchpoules. 
 
 The poore Bayly went thence well beaten and with his mends 
 in his hands : for shee was so generally well beloved, that none 
 durst meddle with her. 
 
 THE SEVENTH CHAPTER. 
 
 Containing how she used Woolner the singing man of Windsor , 
 that was the great eater } and how she made 
 him pay for his breakefast, 
 
 A COMPANY of pleasant Gentlemen, that thought to bee 
 merry with long Meg , went and got one Woolner , a singing 
 man of Windsor , that was a great trencher man, and would eate 
 more at once then five or six men : him they made privy to their 
 conceit, and hee being a mad companion, was as willing as the 
 rest, and so they agreed, that when the meat stood on the boord 
 ready for guests to come to dinner, Woolner should aske w hat he 
 should pay to hreake his fast, for that his businesse was great, and 
 he could not tarry till others came in : so hee resolved and went 
 to the house where Meg dwelt : The Gentlemen before were 
 
 come in, and in a roome hard by, were set at breakefast, looking 
 when Woolner should come in : At last came in Woolner with a great 
 staffe in his hand, as though he had beene a traveller. 
 
 Hoe Hostesse quoth he, is there any meate for men ? I that 
 there is quoth Meg, looke man the table is full, we tarry but 
 for guests, and they will bee here presently: what shall I give 
 you quoth Woolner , because I cannot stay, to eate my breake- 
 fast? Six -pence, quoth Meg , eate and spare not whiles thy 
 belly cracke. You shall have it quoth Woolner , with that he sat 
 
14 
 
 THE LIFE AND PRANKES OF 
 
 him downe, and she fetcht him drinke, having businesse other 
 where, came not to him almost in an howers space : In which 
 time Woolner had eaten up all the meat; as much as would have 
 served ten men ; with that taking his staffe in his hand, came out, 
 and called for his hostesse: I thanke you quoth he, here is six 
 pence, and so fare you well. 
 
 Much good doe it you quoth shee, and going in to see what 
 hee had eaten, found nothing of all her meate but the bare bones, 
 and cleane Platters: with that shee whipt out againe, and as hee 
 was going out of doore, tooke him by the cloake and puld him 
 backe : Friend quoth she, you should be sicke by your stomache, 
 need you not a little Aqua-vita ? Sirra thou hast eaten up all 
 the meate. I that I haue quoth he, and if I haue pocketted up 
 any crumme but in my bellie, He giue thee ten pound for it. 
 And shall I have but sixe pence for all quoth shee, there being 
 so much as would haue serued ten men? No quoth Woolner , 
 not a farthing more of me, for I agreed with thee for so much 
 and so much thou hast, and more thou shalt not haue. Then 
 quoth she sit still, and see how r honestly I will deale with thee : 
 Shee went into the Larder, and filled all the boord againe with 
 good meat, and at every messe set a pottle of Wine, and at the 
 boords end laid a good pike staffe. 
 
 Now fellow quoth shee, of three things choose one: seeing 
 thou hast eaten so much meat for thine owne pleasure, eate this 
 for mine, and so drinkeoff all the Wine and pay nothing: or else 
 take that staffe and haue a bout with me for thy brakefast, hee 
 that gives the first three Venies scape free: Or lastly, faire and 
 orderly pull forth your purse, and pay me for my victuals: If 
 
 you will doe none of these three, by Heavens maker, wert thou a 
 devill (as I think thee little better by thy belly) I would bumbaste 
 thee till thy bones cracke, or mine armes be weary. 
 
 I will do none of them quoth Woolner , I haue paid you what 
 I promised, and so farewell : and quoth shee you shall haue what 
 I promised, and so fare you w r ell : w ith that she shut the Parlour 
 doore, and with a cudgel began to labour him, insomuch that he 
 cryed out, and the Gentlemen hearing, burst in, and in a merry 
 mood told her all, and paid for the breakefast, and so made them 
 friends. 
 
LON G MEG OF WESTMIN STEli. 
 
 15 
 
 THE EIGHT CHAPTER. 
 
 Containing a merry lest, how skee met a Nobleman, and how she 
 vsed both him and the watch . 
 
 I T chanced in an Evening, that Meg would needs be pleasant, 
 and so put on a suit of mans apparell, and with her Sword and 
 Buckler walkt the streets, looking how shee might find some 
 means to be merry : the same night it so fell out, that a Noble- 
 man, being a very wagg, would needs go abroad with one man to 
 see fashions: and comming downe the Strand he spied Meg , and 
 seeing such a tall fellow swinging vp and downe, thought to 
 haue a cast at him, and came to him. How now fellow (quoth he) 
 whither walke’st? Marry quoth Meg, to S. Nicholas shambles 
 to buy calues heads. How much monie, quoth the Nobleman, 
 hast in thy purse? In faith quoth Meg, little enough: wilt lend 
 me any? I marry, quoth the Nobleman, and putting his thumbe 
 to Megs mouth, said, that's a tester. Meg with that up with her 
 fist, and tooke him a good box on the eare, and sayd, there sir 
 knave, there is a groat againe, and now I owe you but two pence. 
 With that the Nobleman drew, and his man too, and Meg was 
 as ready as they, and together they go, but Meg hous’d them both 
 into a Chandlers shop : so the Constable rose to part the fray ; 
 and when he came in and asked what they were, the Nobleman 
 told his name, wherat they all put off their Caps. And what is 
 your name qd. the Constable to Meg ? Mine, master Constable, 
 quoth shee, is Cutbert Curry-knave. Upon this the Constable 
 commanded to lay hold upon her, and to carry her to the Counter. 
 Meg out with her sword, and set upon the watch, and behaved 
 her self very resolutely: but the Constable called for clubs, and 
 then was Meg faine to cry out : Masters hold your hands, I am 
 Long Meg of Westminster. With that they all staid, and the 
 Nobleman would needs have her, the Constable, and all the rest 
 in a Taverne, and there ended the fray in a cup of Wine. 
 
16 
 
 . THE LIFE AND PRANKES OF 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Containing how Meg Trent a shroving, and as shee came home how 
 she fought with the Theeues at S. lames corner , and helpt Father 
 Willis the Carrier to his hundred Markes again. 
 
 THEN Shroue-tuesday was come, then maides must abroad 
 
 with Young men for Fritters; Meg with two more of 
 
 her companions, and Harry the Ostler of the house would needs 
 to Knights-bridge a Shroving, where they had good cheere, and 
 payed frankly : for Meg would make euery man drinke that she 
 saw passe by : and seeing that day, came but once a yeere, she 
 thought to lay it on, and spare for no cost. Well, the day slipt 
 away, and night came on before they were aware, that they payd 
 what they ought, and took their leaue to depart. 
 
 Father Willis the Carrier that brought Meg vp to London, 
 and had been thereaway to take money, and had received an hun- 
 dred Markes; and for the next day he must out of Towne, he 
 would that night needs to Westminster to see Long Meg. Hee 
 and his man trudge downe apace, and as they came just against 
 Saint lames corner, there were they met by two tall fellowes, and 
 rifled of all they had, their money taken from them, and they 
 throwne bound in a ditch. When they had this coyne, saith the 
 one, Now let vs be gone. Nay by the Masse, quoth the other, 
 we have sped well, and seeing wee haue so good hansel 1, wee’ll 
 haue one fling more whatsoeuer fall out. As thus they stood talk- 
 ing, they spyed Long Meg , and her companions : yonder are three 
 wenches, quoth he, will yeeld vs something, and a tall squire that 
 goes with them ; lye that we be not spied. As Meg was comming 
 downe, shee sayd to the two other Maides, Come set the better 
 foot afore, ’iis late, and our Mistresse will think much we tarry so 
 long. Lord blesse vs and send vs well home, quoth the other, 
 for this is a dangerous corner. I haue heard them say, that 
 Theeues lye heere and rob men as they passe. Theeues, quoth 
 Harry ? feare not theeves as long as I am in your company, for 
 lie dye-before you take any wrong. 
 
LONG MEG OF WESTMINSTER. 
 
 17 
 
 With that on they went, and as they past by where Father 
 Willis lay, he saw them and cryed out ; Alas good Gentlemen 
 and Gentlewomen, helpe a poore man that lies bound here, rob- 
 bed of that he hath. And there let him lye, quoth Harry , for I 
 warrant they are theeues, that counterfeit themselues bound, to 
 haue vs come to them. What man, quoth shee, art afraid? giue 
 mee thy staffe; for by the grace of God I will goe see who it is: 
 and if they be any false knaues, Yis Shroue-tuesday at night, and 
 I will giue them ribroast for a farewell to flesh : with that she 
 tooke Harries staffe, and forward she went, and when shee came 
 at them, Father Willis knew her, and cried out, Ah good Meg, 
 helpe to vnbinde mee, for I am vndone, and almost kild. Why 
 what art thou ? I am, quoth hee, Willis the Carrier, who brought 
 you vp to London. Alas poore man quoth shee, and so she vn- 
 loosed him, and questioned with him how the matter fell out ? He 
 told her all, that comming to see her he was rob’d. She bade 
 him be of good cheare, and take no care, for she would do her 
 best towards his losses. And as they were walking homeward, 
 one of the theeues with a good sword and buckler stept before, 
 and said. Stand. Stand, quoth Meg , what meane you by that? 
 Marry, quoth hee, Gentlemen, ’tis hot weather, and you must goe 
 lighter home by your gownes and purses. You looke not with 
 the face, quoth Meg , as though you would hurt women. As thus 
 they were talking together, Harry , Father Willis and his man, 
 ran away and hid themselues, and the two wenches stood quaking 
 for feare, and presently put off their gownes and their purses. 
 Dispatch, quoth one of the theeues, and off with your gowne, and 
 so fare you well. It shall be done sir, quoth shee. As soone as 
 Meg had stript her into her petticoate, and was light and nimble, 
 she stept to her staffe, and stretching her selfe, said : Sirs, this is 
 the matter, you tooke euen now a hundred Markes from a poore 
 Carrier, now you rascals 1 am come to claime it, and 1 will haue 
 it euery penny ere I passe, or I will leaue my carkasse here for a 
 pawne. Shee is a good Wench I warrant her, quoth one of the 
 Theeues; and therefore for thy sake take vp your gownes and 
 your pursues, and farewell, and pray for good fellowes. Nay, 
 you cowardly knaues, quoth she, we must not part so. I must 
 
18 
 
 THE LIFE AND PRANKS OF 
 
 haue a hundred Markes out of your flesh ; and therefore play me 
 this faire play: you are two to one, lay me downe the hundred 
 Markes to our gownes and our purses, and they that win all weare 
 all, I or you. Content, quoth the theeues, and because thou art 
 so lusty, when we haue well beswindged thee, wee’ll turne thee 
 into thy smocke, and let thee goe home naked. Doe your worst, 
 quoth she : now lasses pray for me : With that she buckled with 
 these two sturdy knaues, and hurt the one sore, and beat downe 
 the other, that they in treated her vpon their knees to spare their 
 Hues. I will villaines, quoth she, vpon Condition. Any condition 
 Mistresse, quoth they whatsoeuer. Marry then, quoth she, the 
 conditions shall be these : 
 
 1 First, that you neuer hurt woman, nor company that any 
 
 woman is in. 
 
 2 Item , that you hurt no poore man, or impotent man. 
 
 S Item , that you rob no children nor innocents. 
 
 4 Item , that you rob no Pack-men nor Carriers : for their 
 
 goods nor money is none of their owne. 
 
 5 Item , no manner of distressed persons: but of this I grant 
 
 you exceptions, that for euery rich Farmer and country 
 
 chuffe that hoord vp money, and lets the poore want, such 
 
 spare not, but let them feele your fingers. 
 
 How say you, quoth she, are you content to agree to these 
 conditions? We are, quoth they. 1 haue no bookes about me, 
 quoth she : but because you shall obserue your oath firme and 
 without wauering, sweare on the skirt of my’ smocke. Although 
 it grieued them to be thus disgraced, yet feare made them grant 
 to any thing : and taking her smocke, they layd their hands on it, 
 and said thus : 
 
 Be we leefe or be we loath, 
 
 By the skirt of your smocke, we will neuer breake our oath. 
 
 With that they kist her smocke, and rose up. And Meg shee 
 gaue the wenches their gownes and their purses, and tooke the 
 hundred Markes vp vnder her arme, bade them farewell. 
 
 The men desiring to know who it was that had so lustily be- 
 swinged them, said : nay Mistresse for all this sorrow, let vs haue 
 
LONG MEG OF WESTMINSTER. 
 
 19 
 
 so much fauour at your hands, as to tell your name. She smiled 
 and made them this answere : 
 
 If any aske you, who curried your bones ? 
 
 Say, Long Meg of Westminster met with you once. 
 
 And with that shee went away; and they full of griefe that a 
 woman had giuen them a foyle. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Containing how Harry the Oastler was prest t how she vsed the 
 Constable and Captaine , and how she tooke presse- 
 money to goe to Bulloigne. 
 
 I N these daies while Meg flourisht, and was famous thorow 
 England for her doughty deeds : there fell out great strife 
 between the French King and Henry King of England : where- 
 upon he resolued to leuie an Army of men, with a mighty Fleet 
 to passe into France ; vpon which there was a general presse 
 through England, and especially about London and Westminster, 
 because the King would leaue the borders of his Land strong. 
 In this hurly burly it so fell out, that the Constable of West- 
 minster pressed Harry the Ostler, that was servant with Long 
 Meg; who being very loth to goe, dealt so with Meg , that shee 
 began to intreat the Constable, and to tell him that he was the 
 only stay of his Mistresses house : and if that he were prest forth, 
 his Mistresse were vndone. 
 
 All this could not persuade the Constable, but Harry must 
 needs goe. Whereupon Meg said he should not goe. And so 
 they grew at words, till Meg lent the Constable a box on the 
 eare. And with that all the street was on an vproare, that the 
 Constable was beaten for pressing of a man. The Captaine hear- 
 ing this, came downe himselfe, and askt who had strucke the 
 Constable? Marry, quoth Meg, that haue I; and were it not 
 that I reuerence all Souldiers, and honour Captaines, I would 
 
20 
 
 THE LIFE AND PRANKS OF 
 
 strike thee too, if thou didst offer to presse our man. At this the 
 Captaine smiled. Nay, neuer laugh, quoth Meg , for I dare doe 
 as much as any of thy Troope, either aduancing my Colours, 
 tossing of a Pike, or discharging of a Peece : for proofe, quoth 
 shee, (and shee snatcht a Caliuer out of ones hand that stood by) 
 see how well I can both charge and discharge; which shee per- 
 formed with such nimblenesse and actiuitie, that they all wondred 
 at her : and therefore Captaine, quoth shee, presse not our man ; 
 but if thou wilt needs haue one of euery house, giue me presse- 
 money, and I will goe under thy Colours. At this they all laught, 
 and the Captaine drew his purse and gaue her an Angell. Where- 
 upon according to her promise, shee made prouision for her pas- 
 sage, and went with him to Bulloigne. 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 Containing how she heat the Trench-men from the walls of Bulloigne , 
 and behaued her self so valiantly , that the King gaue 
 her eight pence a day for her life . 
 
 A FTER the KING had passed over the Sea, and had entered 
 vp into France with a strong power, bee encamped before 
 Bulloigne, and then first wonne Bulloigne, and the Oldeman, so 
 that he tooke the Towne wholly in possession, and plac’d a gar- 
 rison in it. The Dolphin of France vpon this came downe with 
 a great power, and lay before Bulloigne ; and vpon one night 
 taking aduantage of the time, hee slew one of the Sentinels, and 
 came to the walls, where he was discouered by the Watch, who 
 straight rung alarum: but they in the Towne wearied with long 
 waking, were in a dead sleepe, so that they made little haste. 
 Meg being then a Landresse in the Towne, and vp late at worke, 
 stept vp, and called vp the rest of the women, and with a hal- 
 bert in her hands, came to the walls, vpon w'hich some of the 
 French were entred, and there shee layd on loade, and caused 
 her women souldiers to throw downe stones and scalding water 
 
LONG MEG OF WESTMINSTER. 
 
 in such abundance, that maugre their teeth shee rebatted them 
 from the wals, before the Souldiers in the towne were up in 
 armes; and at the issue was one of the formost with her Halbert 
 to follow the chase. 
 
 The report of this valiant deed being come to the eares of the 
 King, he for her life time gaue her eight pence a day. 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 Containing the comhate shee had with a French-man before the 
 walls of Bulloigne , and what was the issue of 
 the combat. 
 
 W HILE the Dolphins army lay in view before Bulloigne, 
 there was a French-man that sundry times would as on 
 a brauery come within shot and tosse his Pike, and so goe his 
 way. Long Meg seeing the pride of this French-man, desired 
 that a Drum might be sent, to signifie that there was a common 
 Souldier, a young stripling, that would at the push of the pike 
 try a veny with their Champion. Upon this it was agreed, and 
 a place appointed between both armies where they should meet, 
 and fight it out to the death. The day came, the French-man 
 all in a jollity came and tost his Pike before the Walles. With 
 that Meg was ready, and went out and met him, and without 
 any salutations they fell to blowes, where there was a long and 
 dangerous Combate: but at last Meg ouerthrew him, and layd 
 him along; when she had done, she puld out her Symeter and 
 cut off his head : and with that pulling off her Burganet, shee 
 let her haire fall about her eares; whereby the French-men 
 perceiued she was a woman : and thereupon the English without 
 Bulloigne gave a great shout; and Meg by a Drumme sent the 
 Dolphin his Souldiers head, and said, an English Woman sent 
 it him. Whereupon he commended her much, and sent her an 
 hundred Crownes for her valour. 
 
oo 
 
 THE LIFE AND PRANKS OP 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 Containing her comming into England, how she was married, and 
 how she hehaued herselfe to her husband. 
 
 W HEN the warres were ended in France, Meg came home 
 to her old place of residence to Westminster, where shee 
 was married to a proper tall man, and a Souldier, who vsed her 
 very well, and shee returned him as great obedience, coueting 
 any way that shee might to breed his content : which hee per- 
 ceiuing, loued her passing well ; yet for that he had heard sun- 
 dry of her exploits that shee had done, and how mankind she 
 was, on a time he sought to pick a quarrell and fall out with her, 
 and calling her aside vnto a backe chamber, stript her into her 
 petticoate, and there deliuered her one staffe, and tooke himselfe 
 another, and told her, that for that hee had heard shee was so 
 mankind as to beat all shee met withall, he would try her man- 
 hood, and therefore bade her take which cudgell she would. She 
 replied nothing, but held downe her head. And with that hee 
 layd her on three or foure blowes. And shee in all submission 
 fell downe vpon her knees, desiring him to hold his hands and 
 to pardon her. Why, quoth he, why take you not the sticke and 
 strike? Husband, quoth she, whatsoeuer I haue done to others, 
 it behooueth me to bee obedient towards you; and neuer shall 
 it be said, though I can swindge a Knaue that wrongs me, that 
 Long Meg shall be her Husbands master : and therefore vse me 
 as you please. At these words they grew friends, and neuer after 
 fell they at such mortall jarre. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 Containing a pleasant jest , how she vsed the angry Miller of 
 Epping in Essex. 
 
 M EG going one day with sundry of her neighbours to make 
 merry in Essex all a foot, because the weather was coole, 
 and it was a great Frost, and none with them but a young strip- 
 
LONG MEG OF WESTMINSTER. 
 
 23 
 
 ling of some foureteene yeeres old, for their husbands about 
 businesse were gone another way ; it chanced that they went by 
 Epping Mill, where the Miller was looking out, for the wind blew 
 faire, and the Sailes went merrily. The little boy, that was a 
 wag, thought to be merry with the Miller, and therefore called 
 to him, Miller put out, put out Miller. What shall I put out 
 boy, quoth the Miller? Marry, quoth the boy, a theeues head, 
 and a theeues pair of eares, put out Miller, put out. At this 
 the Miller in great rage came running downe and beat the boy. 
 Meg stept to him and would haue stayed his hand ; and the 
 Miller lent her three or foure good bangs ouer the shoulder. 
 Meg felt it smart, and shee got within the Miller, wroong the 
 sticke out of his hand, and beswinged him well : and when she 
 had done sent the boy up for an empty sacke, and put the Miller 
 in all but the head, and then tying him in the rope wherewith 
 they puld vp sackes, haPd him halfe way, and there let him hang. 
 Where the poore Miller cried out for helpe, and if his wife had 
 not beene comming, himselfe had beene almost kil’d, and the 
 Mill for want of corne set on fire. Thus Meg plagued the sawcie 
 Miller of Epping. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Containing the mad prank shee played with a Water-man of 
 
 Lambeth. 
 
 L ONG Meg on a time had occasion to crosse the water with 
 a Sculler from Westminster : when shee was landed, frankly 
 she drew her purse and gaue him a groat: as she was going vp 
 the staires (for all she had dealt so liberally with him) he began 
 to hum : which she hearing, came backe againe, and questioned 
 which of them all she had behaued her self so ill vnto, as to de- 
 serve a hum at their hands? Every man excused himselfe, and 
 seemed verry sorry; for she was well beloued of all the Water- 
 men : but at last one said flat, it was he that brought her ouer. 
 Then Gentlemen, quoth she, give me leaue to reuenge my owne 
 wrong. Doe what you will, quoth they. Then she stept streight 
 
24 
 
 THE LIFE AND PRANKS OF 
 
 to him that brought her ouer, and with a stretcher beat him 
 while he was not able to stirre him : after by the middle she tyed 
 him to the sterne of the Boat with a great rope, and then taking 
 the sculls her selfe, rowed him over at the boats arse, and so crost 
 the water once or twice; and when she had well washt him, she 
 landed him at Westminster, and bade him remember how he 
 misused any honest face, and taking a piece of chalke, wrote on 
 the wall hard bv the staires : 
 
 J 
 
 FTER her marriage shee kept a house of her owne, and 
 
 lodging and victuals for Gentlemen and Yeomen, such and 
 so good, as there was none better in all Islington, for there then 
 shee dwelt. Now for that oftentimes there resorted Gentlewomen 
 thither, and diuers braue Courtiers and other men of meaner de- 
 gree, her house was spoken of : and on a time the Constable 
 came to search, and would not bee answered w T hat guests she 
 had, but needs would be an eye-witnesse. Whereupon Meg in 
 a great choller started vp in her smocke, and taking a strong cud- 
 gell in her hand, opened the doore for the Constable. Come in, 
 master Constable, quoth she, and let me see your warrant, what 
 suspected persons you seeke for in my house, take heed you goe 
 not an inch beyond your text, for if you doe, were you a Con- 
 stable of Velvet, I will as well beswindge you as any Constable 
 was beswindged since Islington stood ; and when you haue done, 
 you carry none out of my house to night, for I will be answerable 
 for all that are resident in my house. Whereupon master Con- 
 stable seeing the frownes of Megs face, and the fearefull Basti- 
 nado, told her quietly, he would take her word, and so departed. 
 
 If any man aske who brought this to passe. 
 Say it was done by a Lancashire Lasse. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Containing how she kept a house at Islington , and what lawes she 
 had there to he obserued. 
 
LONG MEG OF WESTMINSTER. 
 
 25 
 
 Meg because shee would haue a tricke aboue all others in her 
 house, as indeed shee surpassed all other victualers in excesse of 
 company : for she refused none of what estate or condition so- 
 euer; so she hanged vp this Table in her house, wherein were 
 contained these principles : 
 
 1 Imprimis , That what Gentleman or Yeoman came into her 
 house, and had any charge about him, and made it priuy to her 
 or any of her house, if he lost it by any default, shee would re- 
 pay it him ere he past : but if he did not reueale it, and after said 
 he was rob’d, he should have ten Bastinadoes with a cudgel, and 
 be turned out of doores. 
 
 £ Item, Whosoeuer came in and cald for meat, and had no 
 money to pay, should haue a good box on the eare, and a crosse 
 made vpon his backe, that he should neuer be suffered to drink 
 more in the house. 
 
 3 Item, That if any good fellow came in and bewailed his 
 case, that hee was hungry and wanted money, he should haue his 
 belly full of meat on free cost, and money in his purse, according 
 to his calling. 
 
 4 Item, That if any Ruffler came in, and made an Alehouse- 
 brawle, and when he had done, would not manfully goe into the 
 field and fight a bout or two with Long Meg, the Maides of the 
 house should drie beat him, and so thrust him out of doores. 
 
 These and many such principles had she set vp in her house, 
 that made her house quiet. 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 Containing how she vsed lames Dickins, that zvas called huf- 
 fing Dicke . 
 
 O NCE it chanced that Meg was making her selfe readie to go 
 to dinner with certaine of her friends at the Bell in Alders- 
 gate street, amongst the which was Sir lames Withrington, an old 
 acquaintance of hers : and in the meane time while she was 
 making her selfe ready, came in this huffing Dicke, that had 
 made a vow to quarrell with Long Meg , and cal’d for Ale. The 
 
 F. 
 
26 
 
 THE LIFE AND PRANKES OF 
 
 Wench brought him a pot. And he straight in a brauery swore 
 gogs wounds whore, what a pot is this that thou giuest me ? 
 and threw it against the wall. The wench began to scold with 
 him for breaking her pot. And hee vp with his sword, scab- 
 herd and all, and beate her so, that the girle cryed out. And 
 she being aboue, and hearing that noise, came running downe, 
 and askt what is the matter ? The poore wench cryed, and told 
 her all. Sir, quoth she, very mildely, what is the reason you 
 breake my pots, and then beat my seruants r Why, quoth 
 Dicke , if thou mislikest it, mend it if thou canst. Marry, quoth 
 she, I will ; and with that reatcht downe a Pike staffe, and bade 
 him follow. Out went swearing Dicke , all in his huffes with 
 Meg into a close hard by ; and together they goe : where Meg 
 so beat him, that she had almost kil’d him. Oh hold thy hands, 
 quoth hee, and spare my life. Then the Deuill take me, quoth 
 sheer for the King hath granted me a pardon for one man; 
 and hang me if it be not thou, vnlesse thou wilt grant me one 
 condition, and that is this : Thou shalt put my Maides Petti- 
 cotes on, and follow me to day to dinner with a Sword and a 
 Buckler ; and I will be drest in mans apparell. Rather kill me, 
 quoth the fellow. Marry content, quoth Meg , and began to lay 
 sorer bats vpon him. 
 
 Alas, quoth hee, hold your hands, and I will doe whatsoeuer 
 you will haue me. Upon this she let him goe, and carried him 
 home with her, and drest him full w r omanlike. Well bodied 
 he was, but hee had a long beard, to couer w'hich, on his knees 
 he craued he might haue a muffler to shadow it; at last she 
 granted it: and hauing drest her selfe in mans attire, tooke a 
 Forest bill on her necke, and forward they went downe to Smith- 
 field. Euery one that saw the wench carry the Sword and 
 buckler, laught, that a multitude of people, of men, women, and 
 boyes followed. When they were right against the Buls-head 
 at the Barres, a crue of cutters that knew long Meg, met her, 
 and askt her how she did, and what quarrel shee had in hand, 
 that her selfe wore a Forest bill, and her Maid a sw r ord and 
 buckler ? Faith, quoth Meg , a little broyle, and my Boy was 
 not at home, and so I tooke my Mayd, and shee forsooth .must 
 
LONG MEG OF WESTMINSTER. 
 
 27 
 
 weare a muffler : and with that shee pul’d the clout from his face, 
 and his blacke beard was seene. All the crue straight knew him, 
 and began to fall into a great laughter, demanding the reason 
 of this strange chance. Meg told them all what had hapned : 
 whereupon Duke would not follow any further. By gogs bloud 
 knave, quoth shee, goe to dinner with mee, or I will cut off 
 thy legs with my Forest bill. So poore Dicke was fain to trudge; 
 and in she came and shewed Sir lames JVithrington what a pro- 
 per Page shee had got. Hee and the rest of the guests laught 
 heartily at the matter; and full mannerly did he waite upon 
 her trencher all dinnertime: and when dinner was done, shee 
 called him to her, and said : Now sirrah I discharge you my 
 seruice, and cashiere you for a brawling Knave ; yet for that you 
 shall not say you served an ill Mistresse, hold, there is forty 
 shillings for thy labour to buy thee a new suit of apparell. Dicke 
 took the mony, and for very shame went out of London, and was 
 neuer seene within the City after. 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 Containing liow she was sicke, and visited by a Frier , who enjoyned 
 her pennance ; and what absolution she gaue him 
 after for his paines . 
 
 I N Queene Maries dayes, when Friers and Monks began againe 
 to shew themselues, it chanced Meg fell sicke of a grievous 
 sickenesse, as such grosse bodies are commonly pinched with 
 sorest paines, when they once fall into any infirmity. The 
 disease hauing more matter to worke vpon in a fat body than a 
 leane : an instance of this principle was Meg f for shee lay so 
 mortally sicke, that the Physicians gaue her ouer : yet at last 
 her Criticall day came, wherein triall of her health should bee 
 had to see whether Nature or disease were strongest. Nature 
 had the supremacy, and Meg began to amend, insomuch that 
 shee could sit vpright in her bed. On a day when shee was 
 growne more strong, it chanced that Frier Oliuer who was one 
 
28 
 
 THE LIFE AND PRANKS OF 
 
 of the morrow Masse Priests, called to remembrance that Meg 
 was sicke : whereupon taking his Portuce by his side, bee 
 thought to fetch some spending money from her, and walkt to 
 her house, where he came very grauely ; and at that instant were 
 diuers of her neighbours come to see how she did. As they 
 were talking, word was brought to Meg that Frier Oliuer was 
 there with his Portuce and his holy water. What, quoth shee, 
 after meat, mustard ; ’tis no matter, bid him come in ; and with 
 that Frier Oliver comes in with Dens hie , and salutes her and all 
 the rest of the Wives, saying, he was very sorry to see Meg 
 sicke; but, quoth he, ’tis the Visitation of the Lord for the 
 great sinnes you haue committed: for Meg } quoth he, you haue 
 beene counted a lewd woman, a swearer, a ruffler, a fighter, and 
 a brawler, as you may see here in your Chamber the signes; and 
 with that he pointed to the Swords and Bucklers, Pike-staues 
 and Halberts that hung there; these, quoth he, are tokens of 
 your ill life, and how in your sicknesse you haue not repented 
 you of your former ill life. Many such hard words did Frier 
 Oliuer giue her, and told her that for her offences she must take 
 the pennance of the Church, otherwise, quoth he, I must com- 
 plaine to the Ordinary, and so to the Bishop, and compell you to 
 it by injunction. 
 
 Meg, who fretted at this saweinesse of the Frier, because her 
 neighbours were there, forbare him, and demanded what her 
 pennance might be? Marry, quoth Frier Oliuer , because you 
 haue beene a publike offender, you must haue publike pennance; 
 and therefore I doe enjoyne you that presently vpon the reco- 
 uery of your health, the next Sunday at Masse you come into 
 the Church, and there kneele before the Pulpit, and declare to 
 the people the vilenesse of your life ; and so shall you then and 
 there before the Parish aske God and the w r orld forgiuenesse. 
 
 At this the very fire seemed to sparkle in Megs eyes for an- 
 ger, but shee concealed it with patience, and intreated Frier 
 Oliuer to be good vnto her and enjoyne her some other punish- 
 ment. The good Wives intreated for her, but all in vaine : for 
 Frier Oliuer swore either she should abide that pennance, or else 
 he would complaine to Bishop Bonner . 
 
LONG MEG OF WESTMINSTER. QQ 
 
 Why, quoth Meg, neuer knew I Frier but he was a good fel- 
 low; is there not a shift of descant left for me? 
 
 Faith no, quoth hee, vnlesse thou bestow fiue pound for fiue 
 solemne Masses. Marry Frier, quoth Meg , and that shalt thou 
 haue straight, rather than 1 will abide such publike shame : with 
 that shee cal’d her Maid, and bade her fetch twenty English 
 Crownes, which she gaue to the Frier, whose heart leapt at the 
 sight of the golde : hee soone pocketted it vp, and said, that he 
 would say hue Masses himselfe for her soules health. And vpon 
 this Meg and the Frier were agreed. Well, all seemed to the 
 best, and the company began to be merry. Frier Oliuer hee 
 was blithe and gamesome with the young Wives, and shewed 
 fruits of his life in his outward actions: for a more bawdy Frier 
 there was not in England, and that knew Meg well enough : 
 but letting that passe, the wvies said that they must be gone, for 
 their houre was come. 
 
 Why, whither goe you, quoth Meg ? To a Churching at 
 Chelsey, quoth they. Marry and I will be your man thither, 
 quoth Frier Oliuer. The wives were glad of the Friers com- 
 pany, and so they tooke their leaues, and left Meg passing me- 
 lancholy at the knauery of the Frier. Well, revenge broyled in 
 her brest, insomuch that she start vp (sicke as she was) and drest 
 her selfe in mans apparell, and in the afternoone hauing a good 
 bat in her hand, walked easily into Tuttlefields to watch the 
 comming home of the Frier : where she had not walked long, but 
 she espied where the Gossips came, man’d only with the Frier. 
 And Meg crost the Lees and met them; and at her first salute, 
 greeted the Frier, and said : Oliuer , I am sent to thee from God, 
 not onely to tell thee of thy sinne*, but to enjoyne thee pen- 
 nance for the same. First, as concerning thy offences, thou 
 liuest not as holy men of the Church should : for thou art a 
 whoremaster, frequenting the company of light and lasciuious 
 women, giuen to couetousnesse, and sitting all day bibbing at 
 the Ale-house, when thou shouldest bee at thy booke, with a 
 thousand more other offences, which I cannot rehearse; therefore 
 hath the Lord sent thee thy choice, whether thou wilt from this 
 place be whipt naked to the Priory in Westminster, or else pay 
 
30 
 
 THE LIFE AND PRANKES, &C. 
 
 pay twenty Nobles to the poore mens box ; one of these resolve 
 vpon ; for Frier, one thou must doe, and shalt doe, before thou 
 stirre. At this Frier Oliuer was amazed, and could not tell how 
 he should like this sudden greeting, but said, Who or what art 
 thou ? No man. Frier (quoth Meg) but a spirit, sent from God 
 to torment thee. At this the Wives were all afraid : and the 
 Frier sayd, In nomine Iesus auoid Satan, and would haue runne 
 his way. In nomine Iesus stand Frier, quoth Meg , and with that 
 she reacht him such a rap, that the Frier thought his backe had 
 beene broken : Sirrah, quoth shee, dispatch, either chuse to be 
 whipt from hence to the Doctor, or else pay downe twenty 
 Nobles. Alas quoth the Frier, I haue not twenty Nobles, but 
 here is ten Angels in gold, and foureteene shillings in white 
 money, take that for a satisfaction of mine offences, giue it for 
 my sinnes to the poore. 
 
 Giue it me, quoth Meg. As soone as she fingered the money, 
 she told him, that seeing he wanted some odde money, that his 
 body should pay it: and with that she light vpon the Friers pilch, 
 and beat him so sore, that he trusted better to his feet than his 
 hands, and so ran away. 
 
 The poore Women they were sore agast, but Meg straight 
 discouered her selfe. When they saw her face, and knew all, 
 their feare was turned to laughter; and away they went to the 
 Tauerne, and spent the Friers fourteene shillings in good cheere. 
 The newes of this (as Women are good Secretaries) came to the 
 eares of all the Friers in Westminster, how Frier 
 Oliuer was served, which was such a disgrace 
 to him, that a long while after he was 
 ashamed to shew his face in 
 the streetes. 
 
 FINIS. 
 

THE 
 
 FAMOUS HISTORIE 
 
 OF 
 
 dfrper 3Sacom 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 THE WONDERFULL THINGS THAT HE DID IN 
 HIS LIFE: ALSO THE MANNER OF 
 
 his death; 
 
 WITH THE LIVES AND DEATHS OF THE TWO CONIURERS, 
 BUNGYE AND VANDERMAST. 
 
 Very pleasant and delightfull to be read . 
 
 PRINTED AT LONDON BY E. A. FOR FRANCIS GROUE, AND 
 ARE TO BE SOLD AT HIS SHOP, AT THE VPPER-END OF 
 SNOW-HILL, AGAINST THE SARAZENS HEAD. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 It has been more particularly the fate of the earlier 
 authors of great discoveries to be suspected as magicians: 
 the wonder which these discoveries excited, operating 
 upon uncultivated minds in an age of ignorance, naturally 
 led to the conclusion that effects seemingly surpassing 
 mere human powers, were produced by supernatural 
 agency. Hence from the exaggerated accounts of 
 astonished cotemporaries have arisen those popular 
 legends which are attached to the names of some of the 
 brightest luminaries of science, and noblest ornaments 
 of the annals of mankind. Not only philosophers and 
 men of letters, ancient and modern, but even the poet 
 Virgil, has been made the hero of a similar fiction. 
 
 Roger Bacon, whose light, like that of a most brilliant 
 phenomenon, was too bright for merely human eyes in 
 that dark age of ignorance, created himself enemies by 
 the splendour of his talents, and the popular prejudice 
 was eagerly seized upon, and augmented by the craft 
 and contrivance of the dissolute and ignorant clergy, 
 whose vices he had attacked. Thus arose the following 
 
fable, which has now for upwards of two centuries 
 amused and astonished “ the great vulgar and the small.” 
 The latter impressions have however been much 
 abridged, and it is here printed in all its integrity from 
 an early copy. A drama on the subject from the fertile 
 pen of the unfortunate Robert Green, was printed in 
 1615. 
 
THE 
 
 FAMOUS HISTORIE 
 
 ftytt 3$acotu 
 
 Of the Parents and Birth of Fryer Bacon, and how he addicted 
 himselfe to Learning . 
 
 ^ most men’s opinions he was borne in the 
 West part of England and was sonne to a 
 wealthy Farmer, who put him to Schoole to 
 the Parson of the Towne where hee was 
 borne: not with intent that he should turne 
 Fryer (as he did,) but to get so much vnder- 
 standing, that he might manage the better 
 that wealth hee was to leaue him. But young Bacon tooke his 
 learning so fast, that the Priest could not teach him any more, 
 which made him desire his Master that he would speake to his 
 Father to put him to Oxford , that he might not lose that little 
 learning that hee had gained : his Master was very willing so to 
 doe: and one day meeting his Father, told him, that he had 
 receiued a great blessing of God, in that he had giuen him so 
 wise and hopefull a child, as his sonne Roger Bacon was (for so 
 was he named) and wished him withall to doe his duty, and to 
 bring vp so his Child, that hee might shew his thankfulnesse to 
 God, which could not better be done then in making of him a 
 
4 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 Scholler; for he found by his sodaine taking of his learning, 
 that hee was a childe likely to proue a very great Clerke: hereat 
 old Bacon was not well pleased (for he desired to bring him vp 
 to Plough and to the Cart, as hee himselfe was brought) yet he 
 for reuerence sake to the Priest, shewed not his anger, but kindly 
 thanked him for his paines and counsell, yet desired him not to 
 speake any more concerning that matter; fo£ hee knew best 
 what best pleased himselfe, and that he would doe: so broke they 
 off their talke, and parted. 
 
 So soone as the old man came home, he called to his Sonne 
 for his bookes, which when he had, he lock’d them vp, and gaue 
 the Boy a Cart whip in the place of them, saying to him : Boy, 
 I will haue you no priest, you shall not be better learned then I, 
 you can tell now by the Almanack when it is best sowing Wheat, 
 when Barly, Pease, and Beane : and when the best libbing is, 
 when to sell Graine and Cattell I will teach thee; for I haue all 
 Faires and Markets as perfit in my memory, as Sir John our 
 Priest has Masse without Booke : take mee this whip, I wdll 
 teach thee the vse of it, It will be more profitable to thee then this 
 harsh Latin : make no reply, but follow my counsell, or else by 
 the Masse thou shalt feele the smart hand of my anger. Young 
 Bacon thought this but hard dealing, yet would he not reply, but 
 within sixe or eight dayes he gaue his Father the slip, and went 
 to a Cloyster some twenty miles off, where he was entertained, 
 and so continued his Learning, and in small time came to be so 
 famous, that he was sent for to the Uniuersity of Oxford, where 
 he long time studied, and grew so excellent in the secrets of Art 
 and Nature, that not England onely, but all Christendome 
 admired him. 
 
OF FRYER BACON. 
 
 5 
 
 How the King sent for Fryer Bacon , and of the wonderful 7 things 
 he shewed the King and Queene. 
 
 T HE King being in Oxfordshire, at a Noblemans bouse, was 
 very desirous to see this famous Fr}^er, for he had heard 
 many times of his wondrous things that he had done by his Art: 
 therefore hee sent one for him to desire him to come to the Court. 
 Fryer Bacon kindly thanked the King by the Messenger, and 
 said, that he was at the Kings seruice, and would suddenly attend 
 him : but Sir, saith he (to the Gentleman) I pray make you haste, 
 or else I shall be two houres before you at the Court. For all 
 your Learning (answered the Gentleman) I can hardly beleeue 
 this, for Schollers, Old-men and Trauellers, may lye by authority. 
 To strengthen your beliefe (said Fryer Bacon) I could presently 
 shew you the last Wench that you lay withall, but I will not at 
 this time. One is as true as the other (said the Gentleman) and 
 I would laugh to see either. You shall see them both within 
 these foure houres, quoth the Fryer, and therefore make what 
 haste you can. I will preuent that by my speed (said the Gen- 
 tleman) and with that rid his way; but he rode out of his way, 
 as it should seem; for he had but fiue miles to ride, and yet was 
 he better than three houres a riding them ; so that Fryer Bacon 
 by his Art was with the king before he came. 
 
 The king kindly welcommed him, and said that hee long time 
 had desired to see him; for he had as yet not heard of his life. 
 Fryer Bacon answered him that fame had belide him, and giuen 
 him that report that his poore studies had neuer deserued, for hee 
 beleeued that Art had many Sonnes more excellent then himselfe 
 was. The King commended him for his modesty, and told him, 
 that nothing did become a wise man lesse then boasting: but yet 
 withall he requested him now to be no niggard of his knowledge, 
 but to shew his Queene and him some of his skill. I were 
 worthy of neither Art or knowledge (quod, Fryer Bacon) should 
 I deny your Maiestie this small request: I pray seat yourselues, 
 and you shall see presently what my poore skill can performe: 
 the King, Queene, and Nobles sate them all down. They hauing 
 so done, the Fryer waued his wand, and presently was heard such 
 
6 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 excellent Musicke that they were all amazed, for they all said 
 they had neuer heard the like. This is, said the Fryer, to delight 
 the sense of hearing, I will delight all your other sences ere you 
 depart hence: so wauing his wand againe, there was lowder 
 Musicke heard, and presently hue dancers entred, the first like a 
 Court- Laundresse, the second like a footman, the third like an 
 Usurer, the fourth like a Prodigall, the fift like a Foole: these 
 did diuers excellent changes, so that they gaue content to all the 
 beholders, and hauing done their dance, they all vanished away 
 in their order as they came in. Thus feasted he two of their 
 sences ; Then waued he his wand againe, and there was another 
 kinde of Musicke heard, and whilest it was playing, there was 
 sodainly before them a Table richly couered with all sorts of 
 delicates: then desired he the King and Queene to taste of some 
 certaine rare fruits that were on the Table, which they and the 
 Nobles there present did, and were very highly pleased with the 
 taste ; they being satisfied, all vanished away on the sodaine. 
 Then w aued he his wand againe, and sodainly there was such a 
 smell, as if all the rich perfumes in the w hole w r orld had bin there 
 prepared in the best manner that Art could set them out : whilst 
 hee feasted thus their smelling, he waued his w T and againe, and 
 their came diuers Nations in sundry habits (as Russians, Po- 
 landers, Indians, Armenians) all bringing sundry kinds of Furres, 
 such as their Countries yeelded : all which they presented to the 
 King and Queene: these Furres were so soft in the touch, that 
 they highly pleased all those that handled them, then after some 
 odde fantasticke dances (after their Countrey manner) they 
 vanished away: then asked Fryer Bacon the King’s Majesty, if 
 that hee desired any more of his skill? the King answered that 
 hee was fully satisfied for that time, and that hee oncly now 
 thought of something that hee might bestow on him, that might 
 partly satisfie the kindnesse that hee had receiued. Fryer Bacon 
 said, that hee desired nothing so much as his Maiesties loue, and 
 if that he might be assured of that, hee would thinke himselfe 
 happy in it: for that (said the King) be thou euer sure of it, in 
 token of which receive this Jewell, and withall gaue him a costly 
 Jewel from his necke. The Fryer did with great reuerence thanke 
 
OF FRYER BACON. 
 
 7 
 
 his Majestie, and said : as your Maiesties vassall you shall euer 
 finde me ready to do you seruice, your time of neede shall finde 
 it both beneficiall and delightfull. But amongst all these Gen- 
 tlemen, I see not the man that your Grace did send for me by, 
 sure he hath lost his way, or else met with some sport that detaines 
 him so long, I promised to be here before him, and all this noble 
 Assembly can witnesse I am as good as my word : I heare him 
 comming : with that entered the Gentleman all bedurted (for he 
 had rid through ditches, quagmires, plashes, and waters, that hee 
 was in a most pittifull case) he seeing the Fryer there looked full 
 angerly, and bid a poxe on all his Deuils, for they had led him 
 out of his way, and almost drowned him. Be not angry Sir (said 
 Fryer Bacon) here is an old friend of yours that hath more cause: 
 for she hath tarried these three houres for you (with that hee 
 pulled vp the Hangings, and behinde them stood a kitchin-mayde 
 with a basting-ladle in her hand) now am I as good as my word 
 with you : for I promised to helpe you to your sweetheart, how 
 do you like this? So ill, answered the Gentleman, that I will be 
 reuenged of you. Threaten not (said Fryer Bacon ) least I do 
 you more shame, and doe you take heed how you giue schollers 
 the lye againe : but because I know not how well you are stored 
 with money at this time, I will bear your wenches charges home: 
 with that she vanished away : the King, Queene, and all the com- 
 pany laughed to see with what shame this Gentleman indured the 
 sight of his greasie sweetheart: but the Gentleman went away 
 discontented. This done Fryer Bacon tooke his leaue of the 
 King and Queene, and receiued from them diuers gifts (as well 
 as thankes) for his Art he shewed them. 
 
 How Fryer Bacon deceiued his Man , that would fast for his con- 
 science sake. 
 
 F RYER Bacon had one onely man to attend on him, and he 
 too was none of the wisest, for he kept him in charity, more 
 then for any seruice he had of him. This man of his (named 
 Miles) neuer could indure to fast as other religious persons did, 
 
8 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 for alwayes hee had in one corner, or another, flesh which hee 
 would eate when his Maister eat bread only, or else did fast and 
 abstaine from all things. Fryer Bacon seeing this, thought at 
 one time or other to be euen with him, which he did one Fryday 
 in this manner, Miles on the Thursday night had prouided a great 
 blacke-pudding for his Frydayes fast: this pudding put he in his 
 pocket (thinking belike to heate it so, for his Maister had no fire 
 on those dayes) on the next day, who was so demure as Miles , 
 hee looked as though hee would not haue eat any thing: when 
 his Maister offerd him some bread, hee refused it, saying his 
 sinnes deserued a greater penance then one dayes fast in a whole 
 weeke : his Maister commended him for it, and bid him take 
 heed that he did not dissemble : for if he did, it would at last be 
 knowne ; then were I worse then a Turke said Miles: so went 
 he forth as if he would haue gone to pray priuately, but it was 
 for nothing but to prey vpon his blacke pudding; that pulled 
 he out, (for it was halfe roasted with the heate) and fell to 
 it lustily; but he was deceiued, for hauing put one end in his 
 mouth, he could neither get it out againe nor bite it off, so that 
 hee stamped out for helpe: his Maister hearing him, came; and 
 finding him in that manner, tooke hold of the other end of the 
 pudding, and led him to the hall, and shewed him to all the 
 Schollers, saying : See here my good friends and fellow Students 
 what a deuout man my seruant Miles is, he loueth not to break a 
 fast day, witnesse this pudding that his conscience will not let him 
 swallow: I will haue him to be an example for you all, then tyed 
 hee him to a window by the end of the pudding, where poore 
 Miles stood like a Beare tyed by the nose to a stake, and indured 
 many floutes and mockes: at night his Maister released him from 
 his penance; Miles was glad of it, and did vow neuer to breake 
 more fast dayes whilst that he liued. 
 
OF FRYER BACON". 
 
 9 
 
 How Fryer Bacon saued a Gentleman that had giuen himselfe to 
 
 the Deuill, 
 
 I N Oxfordshire there lived a Gentleman, that had through his- 
 riotous expences wasted a faire Inheritance that was left him 
 by his father : After which hee grew so poore, that he had not 
 wherewith to buy himselfe so much bread as would mainteine his 
 miserable life : the memory of his former state that hee had liued 
 in, and the present want that he now sustained, made him to 
 grow desperate and regardlesse both of his soule and bodies 
 estate : which gaue the Deuill occasion to worke vpon his weak- 
 nesse in this manner following. 
 
 On a time, hee being alone full of griefe and care, (griefe for 
 his folies past, and care how to get a poore liuing for the re- 
 mainder of his dayes) the Deuill came to him and asked him 
 what hee wanted (hee came not in a shape terrible, but like an 
 old penny-father.) This Gentleman was amazed at his sodaine 
 presence, but hearing him demand of his wants, hee tooke to 
 him courage and said : I want all things, I want money to buy 
 my apparell, money to buy mee meat, money to redeeme my 
 Land, and money to pay my debts : Can or will } r ou helpe mee in 
 this misery? I will answered the Deuill, on some conditions helpe 
 you to money for to supply all these wants, and that sodainly. 
 On any condition, said the Gentleman, helpe mee, and I sweare 
 for to performe them : I take no oathes (answered the Deuill) I 
 must haue bonds, if you will doe so, meet mee by the Woods side 
 to morrow morning, and there I will haue the moneys ready : I 
 will said the Gentleman (for hee poore man was glad of it on any 
 conditions, as he said before.) The next day hee went to the 
 Wood where the Deuill had promised to meet him : long had 
 hee not beene there, but he beheld the Deuil comming, and after 
 him two other like Seruingmen with B:igges of money: this 
 reioyced the poore Gentlemans heart to thinke that hee should 
 once againe liue like a man. The Deuill comming to him said : 
 sonne I will performe my promise vnto you if that you will seale 
 to the conditions that 1 haue here already drawne: willingly 
 
 c 
 
10 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 said the Gentleman, I will, I pray read them: The Deuill read 
 
 them to this effect: that he lent him so much moneyas he should 
 haue need of, to be imployed to these vses following : First, to 
 redeeme his morgag’d Land: next to pay his debts: lastly, to 
 buy him such necessaries as bee wanted : this to be lent on this 
 condition, that so soone as he had paid all his debts, that he 
 should be at the lenders disposing, and without any delay, freely 
 to yeeld himselfe to him vpon the first demand of the aforesaid 
 lender* To this the Gentleman sealed, and had the money car- 
 ried to his Chamber, with which money bee in short time re- 
 deemed his Land, and bought such things as he needed, and like- 
 wise payed all his debts, so that there was not any man that could 
 aske him one penny. 
 
 Thus liued this Gentleman once againe in great credit, and 
 grew so great a husband that he increased his estate, and was 
 richer then euer his father before him was: but long did this ioy 
 of his not continue, for one day hee beeing in his Studie the 
 Deuil appeared vnto him, and did tell him that now his Land 
 was redeemed, and his debts paid, and therefore the time was 
 come that hee must yeeld himselfe to his mercy, as hee was bound 
 by bond. This troubled the Gentleman to heare, but more to 
 thinke how that he must become a slaue to a stranger that hee 
 did not know (for hee knew not as yet that he was the Deuill) 
 but being vrged to answer for himselfe (by the Deuill) hee said 
 that hee had not as yet paid all his debts, and therefore as }'et 
 hee was not liable to the bonds strait conditions. At this the 
 Deuill seemed angry and with a fearefull noyse transfformed him- 
 selfe to an vgly shape, saying, Alas poore wretch, these are poore 
 excuses that thou framest, I know them all to be false, and so 
 will proue them to thy face to morrow morning, till when I 
 leaue thee to despaire : So with great noyse he went his way, 
 leauing the Gentleman halfe dead with feare. 
 
 When he was gone, the Gentleman reuiuing bethought him- 
 selfe in what a miserable state he was now in, then wished he 
 that he had liued and died pooreiy, then cursed he all his ambi- 
 tious thoughts, that led him first to desire againe that wealth 
 which he had so vainly by his riot lost : then would hee curse 
 
OF FRYER BACON. 
 
 11 
 
 Lis prodigall expences that were the originall of all his misery: 
 thus was he tormented along time in his minde, at last he fully 
 resolued to end his wretched life by some violent death, and to 
 that end he went forth thinking to kill himselfe, which he had 
 done, had it not beene for the Fryer : for as he was falling vpon 
 his sword, Fryer Bacon came by and called to him to hold, 
 which he did. Fryer Bacon demanded of him the cause why he 
 was so desperate that he would run headlong to hell ? O sir, 
 said he, the cause is great, and the relation is so terrible to me, 
 that I would intreat you not to trouble me any more, but to leaue 
 me to my owne will : his answer filled the Fryer with amazement 
 and pitty both at once, which made him to urge him in this 
 manner. Sir, should I leaue you to this wilfull damnation, I were 
 vnfit euer hereafter to weare or touch any robe that belongeth 
 vnto the holy Order, whereof I am a Brother : you know (I doubt 
 not) that there is giuen power to the Church to absolue penitent 
 sinners, let not your wilfulnesse take away from you that benefit 
 which you may receiue by it: freely confesse your selfe (I pray) 
 you vnto me, and doubt not but I shall giue your troubled con- 
 science ease: Father (said this Gentleman) I know all that you 
 haue spoken is truth, and I haue many times receiued comfort 
 from the mother Church, (I dare not say our, for I feare that 
 shee will neuer receiue me for a childe) I haue no part in her 
 benediction, yet since you request so earnestly the cause, 1 will 
 tell you, heare it and tremble. Know then that I haue giuen 
 my selfe to the Deuill for a little wealth, and he to morrow in this 
 Wood must haue me: now haue you my griefe, but I know not 
 how to get comfort. This is strange (quoth Fryer Bacon ,) yet be 
 of good comfort, penitentiall teares may doe much, which see 
 you doe not spare; soone I will visit you at your house, and giue 
 you that comfort (l hope,) that will beget you againe to good- 
 nesse: the Gentleman with these words was somewhat comforted 
 and returned home. At night Fryer Bacon came to him, and 
 found him full of teares for his haynous offences, for these teares 
 he gaue him hope of pardon, demanded further what conditions 
 hee had made with the Deuill : the Gentleman told him, how 
 that he had promised himselfe to him so soone as hee had paid 
 

 TIIE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 all his debts : which he now had done, for he owed not one peny 
 to any man liuing. Well said Fryer Bacon, continue thy sor- 
 row for thy sinnes, and to morrow meete him without feare, and 
 be thou content to stand to the next mans iudgement that shall 
 come that way, whether thou doest belong to tbe Deuill or no : 
 feare not, but do so, and be thou assured that I will be he that 
 shall come by, and will giue such iudgement on thy side, that 
 thou shalt bee free from him : with that Fryer Bacoti went home, 
 and the Gentleman went to his prayers. 
 
 In the morning the Gentleman (after that hee had blessed 
 himselfe) went to the Wood where he found the Deuill ready 
 for him, so soone as he came neere, the Deuill said, now deceiuer 
 are you come, now shall thou see that I can and will proue that 
 thou hast paid all thy debts, and therefore thy soule belongeth 
 to me. Thou art a deceiuer (said the Gentleman) and gauest me 
 money to cheat me of my soule, for else why wilt thou be thy 
 own Judge: let me haue some other to iudge betweene vs. Con- 
 tent said the Deuill, take whom thou wilt : then I will haue (said 
 the Gentleman) the next man that commeth this way : hereto 
 the Deuill agreed. No sooner were these words ended, but Fryer 
 Bacon came by, to whom this Gentleman speake, and requested, 
 that he would be iudge in a waighty matter betweene them two : 
 the Fryer said, he was content, so both parties were agreed : the 
 Deuill said they were, and told Fryer Bacon how the case stood 
 betw r eene them in this manner. 
 
 Know Fryer, that I seeing this prodigall like to starue for 
 want of food, lent him money, not onely to buy him victuals, 
 but also to redeeme his lands and pay his debts, conditionarily 
 that so soone as his debts were paid, that hee should giue him- 
 selfe freely to mee, to this, here is his hand (shewing him the Bond) 
 now my time is expired, for all his debts are paid, which hee 
 cannot denie. This case is plaine, if it be so that his debts are 
 paid: his silence confirmes it said the Diuell, therefore giue him 
 a iust sentence. I will said Fryer Bacon : But first tell me (speaking 
 to the Gentleman ) didst thou neuer yet giue the Deuill any of hi's 
 mony backe, nor requite him any w T ayes: neuer had hee any 
 thing of me as yet (answered the Gentleman) then neuer Jet him 
 
OP FRYER BACON. 
 
 IS 
 
 haue any thing of thee and thou art free; Deceiuer of mankind, 
 said he (speaking to the Deuill) it was thy bargaine, neuer to 
 meddle with him so long as hee was indebted to any, now how 
 canst thou demand of him any thing, when he is indebted for all 
 that hee hath to thee, when hee payeth thee thy money, then 
 take him as thy due; till then thou hast nothing to doe with him: 
 and so I charge thee to be gone. At this, the Deuill vanished 
 with great horror, but Fryer Bacon comforted the Gentleman, and 
 sent him home with a quiet conscience, bidding him neuer to 
 pay the Deuils money backe as he tendred his owne safety: 
 which he promised for to obserue. 
 
 How Fryer Bacon made a Braseti head to speake , by the which hee 
 would haue walled England about with Brasse, 
 
 F RYER Bacon reading one day of the man}' conquests of 
 England, bethought himselfe how hee might keepe it here- 
 after from the like conquests, and so make himselfe famous here- 
 after to all posterities. This (after great study) hee found could 
 be no way so well done as one ; which was to make a head of 
 Brasse, and if he could make this head to speake (and heare it 
 when it speakes) then might hee be able to wall all England 
 about with Brasse. To this purpose hee got one Fryer Bungey 
 to assist him, who was a great Scholler and a Magician, (but not 
 to bee compared to Fryer Bacon) these two with great study and 
 paines so framed a head of Brasse, that in the inward parts 
 thereof there was all things like as in a naturall mans head: this 
 being done, they were as farre from perfection of the worke as 
 they were before, for they knew not how to giue those parts that 
 they had made motion, without which it was impossible that it 
 should speake : many bookes they read, but yet could not finde 
 out any hope of what they sought, that at the last they concluded 
 to raise a spirit, and to know of him that which they could not 
 attaine to by their owne studies. To do this they prepared all 
 things ready and went one Euening to a Wood thereby, and after 
 
H 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 many ceremonies vsed, they spake the words of coniuration, 
 which the Deuill straight obeyed and appeared vnto them, asking 
 what they would ? know, said Fryer Bacon that wee haue made an 
 artificiall head of Brasse, which we would haue to speake, to the 
 furtherance of which wee haue raised thee, and being raised, wee 
 will here keepe thee, vnlesse thou tell to vs the way and manner 
 how to make this Head to speake. The Deuill told him that he 
 had not that power of himselfe : beginner of lyes (said Fryer 
 Bacon) I know that thou dost dissemble, and therefore tell it vs 
 quickly, or else wee will here bind the to remaine during our 
 pleasures. At these threatnings the Deuill consented to doe it, 
 and told them, thet with a cotinual fume of the six hotest Simples 
 it should haue motion, and in one month space speak, the Time 
 of the moneth or day hee knew not : also hee told them, that if 
 they heard it not before it had done speaking, all their labour 
 should be lost: they being satisfied, licensed the Spirit for to 
 depart. 
 
 Then went these two learned Fryers home againe, and pre- 
 pared the Simples ready, and made the fume, and with continuall 
 watching attended when this Brasen head would speake : thus 
 watched they for three weekes without any rest, so that they 
 were so weary and sleepy, that they 7 could not any longer refraine 
 from rest: then called Fryer Bacon his man Miles , and told him, 
 that it was not vnknown to him what paines Fryer Bungy and 
 himselfe had taken for three weekes space, onely to make, and to 
 heare the Brasen-head speake, which if they did not, then had 
 they lost all their labour, and all England had a great losse 
 thereby: therefore hee intreated Miles that he would watch whilst 
 that they slept, and call them if the Head speake. Feare not, 
 good Master (said Miles ) I will not sleepe, but harken and attend 
 vpon the head, and if it doe chance to speake, I will call you : 
 therefore I pray take you both your rests and let mee alone for 
 watching this head. After Fryer Bacon had given him a great 
 charge the second time : Fryer Bungy and he went to sleepe, 
 and Miles , alone to watch the Brasen head : Miles , to keepe him 
 from sleeping, got a Tabor and Pipe, and being merry disposed, 
 sung this Song to a Northren tune. 
 
OF FRYER. BACON. 
 
 15 
 
 Of Cam’st thou not from New-Castle. 
 
 To couple is a custome, 
 all things thereto agree : 
 
 Why should not I then loue ? 
 since loue to all is free. 
 
 But lie haue one that’s pretty, 
 her cheekes of scarlet die ? 
 
 For to breed my delight, 
 when that I ligge her by. 
 
 Though vertue be a Dowry, 
 yet lie chuse money store : 
 
 If my loue proue vntrue, 
 with that I can get more. 
 
 The faire is oft vnconstant, 
 the blacke is often proud. 
 
 He chuse a louely browne, 
 come fidler scrape thy crowd. 
 
 Come fidler scrape thy crowd, 
 for Peggie the browne is she, 
 
 Must be my Bride, God guide 
 that Peggie and I agree. 
 
 With his owneMusicke, and such Songs as these spent he his 
 time, and kept from sleeping at last. After some noyse the Head 
 spake these two words, Time is. Miles hearing it to speake no 
 more, thought his Master would be angry if hee waked him for 
 that, and therefore he let them both slcepe, and began to mocke 
 the Head in this manner: Thou Brazen-faced Head, hath my 
 Master tooke all this paines about thee, and now dost thou requite 
 him with two words, Time is: had hee watched with a Lawyer 
 so long as he hath watched with thee, he would haue giuen him 
 more, and better words then thou hast yet, if thou canst speake 
 
16 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 no wiser, they shal sleepe till doomes day for me : Time is : I 
 know Time is, and that you shall heare good man Brazen face. 
 
 To the tune of Daintie come thou to me. 
 
 Time is for some to plant, 
 
 Time is for some to sowe ; 
 
 Time is for some to graft 
 The home as some doe know. 
 
 Time is for some to eale, 
 
 Time is for some to sleepe, 
 
 Time is for some to laugh. 
 
 Time is for some to weepe. 
 
 Time is for some to sing, 
 
 Time is for some to pray, 
 
 Time is for some to creepe, 
 
 That haue drunke all the day. 
 
 Time is to cart a Bawd, 
 
 Time is to whip a Whore, 
 
 Time is to hang a Theefe, 
 
 And time is for much more. 
 
 Doe you tell vs Copper-nose, when Time is, I hope we Scbol- 
 lers know our Times, when to drinke drunke, when to kisse our 
 Hostes, when to goe on her score, and when to pay it, that time 
 comes seldome. After halfe an houre had passed, the Head did 
 speake againe, two words, which were these : Time zcas . Miles 
 respected these words as little as he did the former, and would 
 not wake them, but still scoffed at the Brasen head, that it had 
 learned no better words, and haue such a Tutor as his Master: 
 and in scorne of it sung this Song. 
 
OF FRYER BACON. 
 
 17 
 
 To the tune of a rich Merchant man . 
 
 Time was when thou a Kettle 
 wert fill’d with better matter : 
 
 But Fryer Bacon did thee spoyle, 
 when he thy sides did batter. 
 
 Time was when conscience dwelled 
 with men of occupation: 
 
 Time was when Lawyers did not thriue, 
 so well by mens vexation. 
 
 Time was when Kings and Beggers 
 of one poore stuffe had being: 
 
 Time was when office kept no Knaues : 
 that time it was worth seeing. 
 
 Time was a bowle of water, 
 did giue the face reflection. 
 
 Time was when women knew no paint: 
 which now they call Complexion. 
 
 Time was: I know that Brazen-face, without your telling, I 
 know Time was, and I know what things there was when Time 
 was, and if you speake no wiser, no Master shall be waked for 
 mee. Thus Miles talked and sung till another halfe houre was 
 gone, then the Brazen-head spake againe these words ; Time is 
 past: and therewith fell downe, and presently followed a terrible 
 noyse, with strange flashes of fire, so that Miles was halfe dead 
 with feare: At this noyse the two Fryers awaked, and wondred 
 to see the whole roome so full of smoake, but that being vanished 
 they might perceiue the Brazen-head broken and lying on the 
 ground : at this sight they grieued, and called Miles to know 
 how this came. Miles halfe dead with feare, said that it fell 
 downe of itselfe, and that with the noyse and fire that followed 
 hee was almost frighted out of his wits: Fryer Bacon asked him 
 if bee did not speake? yes (quoth Miles) it spake, but to no pur- 
 
 D 
 
18 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 pose, lie haue a Parret speake better in that time that you have 
 been teaching this Brazen head. Out on thee villaine (said Fryer 
 Bacon) thou hast vndone vs both, hadst thou but called us when 
 it did speake, all England had been walled round about with 
 Brasse, to its glory, and our eternal fames: what were the words 
 it spake : very few (said Miles) and those were none of the wisest 
 that I have heard neither: first he said. Time is. Hadst thou 
 call’d vs then (said Fryer Bacon) we had been made for euer: 
 then (said Miles) half an hour after it spake againe and said, 
 Time was. And wouldst thou not call us then (said Bungey ?) 
 Alas (said Miles) I thought he would haue told me some long 
 Tale, and then I purposed to haue called you : then half an houre 
 after he cried Time is past , and made such a noyse, that hee hath 
 waked you himselfe mee thinkes. At this Fryer Bacon was in 
 such a rage, that hee would haue beaten his man, but he was 
 restrained by Bungey : but neuerthelesse for his punishment, he 
 with his Art struck him dumbe for one whole months space. Thus 
 that great worke of these learned Fryers was ouerthrown (to their 
 great griefes) by this simple fellow. 
 
 Hoxv Fryer Bacon by his art took a Towtie , when the King had lyen 
 before it three months, without doing to it any hurt. 
 
 I N those times when Fryer Bacon did all his strange trickes, 
 the Kings of England had a great part of France , which they 
 held a long time, till ciuill warres at home in this Land made 
 them to lose it: it did chance that the King of England (for 
 some cause best knowne to himselfe) went into France with a 
 great Armie, where after many victories, he did besiege a strong 
 Towne, and lay before it full three moneths, without doing to the 
 Towne any great damage, but rather received the hurt himselfe. 
 This did so vexe the King, that he sought to take it in any way, 
 either by policy or strength : To this intent hee made Proclama- 
 tion, that whosoeuer could deliuer this Towne into his hand, hee 
 should haue for his paines ten thousand Crownes truely paid. 
 This was proclaimed, but there was none found that would 
 
OF FRYER BACON. 
 
 19 
 
 undertake it: At length the newes did come into England of this 
 great reward that was promised. Fryer Bacon hearing of it, went 
 into France , and being admitted to the Kings presence, hee thus 
 spake unto him: Your Maiestie I am sure hath not quite forgot 
 your poore subject Bacon , the love that you shewed to mee being 
 last in your presence, hath drawne mee for to leave my Countrey, 
 and my Studies, to doe your Maiestis seruice: I beseech your 
 Grace, to command mee so farre as my poore Art or life may doe 
 you pleasure. The King thanked him for his love, but told him, 
 that hee had now more need of Armes than Art, and wanted 
 braue Souldiers more than learned Schollers. Fryer Bacon 
 aswered, Your Grace saith well; but let mee (vnder correction) 
 tell you, that Art oftentimes doth those things that are impossible 
 to Armes, which I will make good in some few examples. I will 
 speak onely of things performed by Art and Nature, wherein 
 shall be nothing Magical : and first by the figuration of Art, there 
 may be made Instruments of Nauigation without men to rowe in 
 them, as great ships, to brooke the Sea, only with one man to 
 steere them, and they shall sayle far more swiftly than if they 
 were full of men: Also Chariots that shall move with an unspeak- 
 able force, without any living creature to stirre them. Likewise, 
 an Instrument may be made to fly withall, if one sit in the 
 midst of the Instrument, and doe turne an engine, by which the 
 wings being Artificially composed, may beat ayre after the 
 manner of a flying Bird. By an Instrument of three fingers 
 high, and three fingers broad, a man may rid himself and others 
 from all Imprisonment: yea, such an Instrument may easily be 
 made, whereby a man may violently draw unto him a thousand 
 men, will they, nill they, or any other thing. By Art also an 
 instrument may bee made, where with men may walke in the 
 bottome of the Sea or Rivers without bodily danger : this 
 Alexander the Great vsed (as the Ethniek philosopher reporteth) 
 to the end he might behold the Secrets of the Seas. But Physi- 
 call Figurations are farre more strange : for by that may be 
 framed Perspects and Looking-glasses, that one thing shall 
 appeare to be many, as one man shall appeare to be a whole 
 Army, and one Sunne or Moone shall seemdiuers. Also perspects 
 
20 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 may be so framed, that things farre off shall seem most nigh 
 vnto vs : With one of these did Iulius Ccesar from the Sea coasts 
 in France marke and obserue the situation of the Castles in 
 England . Bodies may also be so framed, that the greatest 
 things shall appeare to be the least, the highest lowest, the most 
 secret to bee the most manifest, and in such like sort the contrary. 
 Thus did Socrates perceiue, that the Dragon which did destroy 
 the Citie and Countrey adioyning, with his noisome breath, and 
 contagious influence, did lurke in the dennes between the 
 Mountaines : and thus may all things that are done in Cities or 
 Armies be discovered by the enemies. Againe, in such wise may 
 bodies be framed, that venemous and infectious influences may 
 be brought whither a man will : In this did Aristotle instruct 
 Alexander ; through which instruction the poyson of a Basiliske, 
 being lift vp vpon the wall of a Citie, the poison was convayd 
 into the Citie, to the destruction thereof : Also perspects may be 
 made to deceiue the sight, as to make a man beleeue that hee 
 seeth great store of riches, when that there is not any. But it 
 appertaineth to a higher power of Figuration, that beames should 
 be brought and assembled by diuers flexions and reflexions in 
 any distance that we will, to burne any thing that is opposite 
 vnto it, as it is witnessed by those Perspects or Glasses that 
 burne before and behinde : But the greatest and chiefest of all 
 figurations and things figured, is to describe the heavenly bodies, 
 according to their length and breadth in a corporall figure, 
 wherein they may corporally moue with a daily motion. These 
 things are worth a kingdome to a wise man. These may suffise, 
 my royall Lord, to shew what Art can doe : and these, with 
 many things more, as strange, I am able by Art to performe. 
 Then take no thought for winning this Towne, for by my Art 
 you shall (ere many dayes be past) haue your desire. 
 
 The Kins: all this while heard him with admiration : but 
 hearing him now, that hee would vndertake to win the Towne, 
 hee burst out in these speeches : Most learned Bacon , doe but 
 what thou hast said, and I will give thee what thou most desirest, 
 either wealth, or honour, choose which thou wilt, and I will be as 
 ready to performe, as I have been to promise. 
 
OF FRYE-R BACON. 
 
 21 
 
 Your Maiesties love is all that I seeke (said the Fryer, let mee 
 haue that, and I haue honour enough, for wealth, I have content, 
 the wise should seek no more: but to the purpose. Let your 
 Pioniers raise up a mount so high, (or rather higher) than the 
 wall, and then shall you see some probability of that which I haue 
 promised. 
 
 This Mount in two days was raised : then Fryer Bacon went 
 with the King to the Top of it, and did with a perspect shew to 
 him the Towne, as plainley as if hee had beene in it: at this the 
 King did wonder, but Fryer Bacon told him, that he should 
 wonder more, ere next day noone : against which Time, he 
 desired him to have his whole Army in readinesse, for to scale 
 the wall upon a signal given by him, from the Mount. This the 
 King promised to doe, and so returned to his Tent full of Joy, 
 that he should gain this strong Towne. In the morning Frj^er 
 Bacon went up to the Mount and set his Glasses, and other 
 Instruments up: in the meane time the King ordered his Army, 
 and stood in a readinesse for to give the assaults: when the signal 
 was given, which was the wauing of a flagge: Ere nine of the 
 clocke Fryer Bacon had burnt the State-house of the Towne, 
 with other houses only by his Mathematicall Glasses, which 
 made the whole Towne in an vprore, for none did know how it 
 came: w hilest that they were quenching of the same Fryer Bacon 
 did waue his Flagge: vpon which signall giuen, the King set 
 vpon the Towne, and tooke it with little or no resistance. Thus 
 through the Art of this learned man the King got this strong 
 Towne, which hee could not doe with all his men without Fryer 
 Bacons helpe. 
 
 How Fryer Bacon ouer-came the German Coniurer Vandermast, 
 and made a Spirit of his owne carry him into Germany. 
 
 T HE King of England after hee had taken the Town 
 shewed great mercy to the Inhabitants, giuing some of 
 them their hues freely, and others hee set at liberty for their 
 Gold:, the Towne hee kept as his owne, and swore the ehiefe 
 
22 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 Citizens to be his true Subjects. Presently after the King of 
 France sent an ambassadour to the King of England for to intreat 
 a peace betweene them. This Ambassadour being come to the 
 King, he feasted him (as it is the manner of Princes to doe) and 
 with the best sports as he had then, welcomed him. The 
 Ambassadour seeing the King of England so free in his Loue, 
 desired likewise to giue him some taste of his good liking, and to 
 that intent sent for one of his fellowes (being a Germane, and 
 named Vandermast) a famous coniurer, who being come, hee told 
 the King, that since his Grace had been so bountiful in his loue to 
 him, he would shew him (by a servant of his) such wonderful! 
 things that his Grace had neuer seene the like before. The 
 King demaunded of him of what nature those things were that 
 hee would doe : The Ambassadour answered that they were 
 things done by the Art of Magicke. The King hearing of this, 
 sent straight for Fryer Bacon t who presently came, and brought 
 Fryer Bungey with him. 
 
 When the Banquet was done, Vandermast did aske the King, 
 if he desired to see the Spirit of any man deceased: and if that 
 hee did, hee would raise him in such manner and fashion as he was 
 in when that hee lived. The King told him, that above all men 
 he desired to see Pompey the Great, who could abide no equal!. 
 Vandermast by his Art raised him, armed in such manner as hee 
 was when he was slaine at the battell of Pharsalia ; at this they 
 were all highly contented. Fryer Bacon presently raised the 
 ghost of Julius Ccesar , who could abide no Superiour, and had 
 slaine this Pompey at the Battell of Pharsalia: At the sight of 
 him they were all amazed, but the King who sent for Bacon; and 
 Vandermast said that there was some man of Art in that presence, 
 whom he desired to see. Fryer Bacon then shewed himselfe, 
 saying; It was I Vandermast , that raised .Ccesar, partly to giue 
 content to this Royall presence, but chiefely for to conquer thy 
 Pompey , as he did once before, at that great Battell of Pharsalia , 
 which he now againe shall doe. Then presently began a fight 
 between Ccesar and Pompey , which continued a good space, to the 
 content of all, except Vandermast . At last Pompey was ouer 
 come and slaine by Ccesar: then vanished they both away. 
 
OF FRYER BACON. 
 
 23 
 
 My Lord Ambassadour (said the King) me thinks that my 
 Englishman has put down your German: hath he no better 
 cunning than this? Yes, answered Vandermast , your Grace shall 
 see me put downe your Englishman, ere that you goe from 
 hence: and therefore Fryer prepare thy selfe with thy best of 
 Art to withstand me. Alas, said Fryer Bacon , it is a little thing 
 will serue to resist thee in this kind. I have here one that is my 
 inferior (shewing him Fryer Bungey) try thy Art with him: and 
 if thou doe put him to the worst, then will I deale w r ith thee, and 
 not till then. 
 
 Fryer Bungey then began to shew his Art : and after some 
 turning and looking in his Booke, he brought up among them 
 the Hysperian Tree, which did beare golden Apples: these Apples 
 were kept by a waking Dragon, that lay under the Tree: He 
 hauing done this, bid Vandermast finde one that durst gather the 
 fruit. Then Vandermast did raise the ghost of Hercules in his 
 habit that he wore when that he was liuing, and with his Club on 
 his shoulder: Here is one, said Vandermast , that shall gather 
 fruit from this tree : this is Hercules, that in his life time gathered 
 of this Fruit, and made the Dragon crouch: and now againe shall 
 hee gather it in spight of all opposition. As Hercules was going 
 to plucke the fruit, Fryer Bacon held up his wand, at which 
 Hercules stayed and seemed fearful. Vandermast bid him for to 
 gather of the fruit, or else he would torment him. Hercules was 
 more fearfull, and said, I cannot, nor I dare not: for great Bacon 
 stands, whose charms are farre more powerfull than thine, I must 
 obey him Vandermast. Hereat Vandermast curst Hercules, and 
 threatned him: But Fryer Bacon laughed, and bid not to chafe 
 himself ere that his iourney was ended: for seeing (said he) that 
 Hercules w'ill doe nothing at your command, l will have him doe you 
 some service at mine: with that he bid Hercules carry him home 
 into Germany. The Diuell obeyed him, and tooke Vandermast 
 on his backe, and went away with him in all their sights. Hold 
 Fryer, cried the Ambassadour, I will not loose Vandermast for 
 half my Land. Content yourself my Lord, answered Fryer 
 Bacon, I have but sent him home to see his wife, and ere long 
 he may returne. The King of England thanked Fryer Bacon, and 
 
THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 ‘24 
 
 forced some gifts on him for his seruice that he had done for 
 him : for Fryer Bacon did so little respect money, that he neuer 
 would take any of the King. 
 
 HE Peace being concluded betweene the King of England 
 
 and the King of France, the King of England came againe 
 into his Country of England, where he was received very joyfully 
 of all his Subiects: But in his absence had happened a discord 
 betweene three Brethren, the like hath not beene often heard. 
 This it was: A rich Gentleman of England dyed, and left behind 
 him three Sonnes. Now for some reason (which was best known 
 to himselfe) he appointed none of them by name to be his heyre, 
 but spake to them all after this manner: You are all my Sonnes, 
 and I love you all as a Father should doe, all alike, not one 
 better than the other: and cause I would alwayes doe rightly so 
 neere as I can, I leave all my Lands and goods to him that loues 
 me best: These were his last words that he spake concerning 
 any worldly affaires. 
 
 After he was dead and buried, there arose a great controversie 
 betwixt them, who should inherit their Fathers Goods and Lands, 
 every one pleading for himselfe, how that he loued his Father 
 best. All the cunning Lawyers of the Kingdome could say 
 nothing to the purpose, concerning this case, so that they were 
 inforced to begge of the King a grant for a combat: for they 
 would not share the Lands and Goods among them, but euery 
 one desired all or else nothing. The King seeing no other way 
 to end this controversie, granted a combat: the two eldest being 
 to fight first, and the cooquerour to fight with the youngest, and 
 the surviver of them was to haue the Land. 
 
 The day being come that was set for these combatants, they 
 all came in armed for the fight. Friar Bacon being there present, 
 and seeing such three lustie young men like to perish, and that 
 by their owne flesh and blood, grieued very much, and went to 
 
 How Fryer Bacon through his wisdom saued the endangered Hues 
 of three Brethren . 
 
OF FRYER BACON. 
 
 25 
 
 the King desiring his Maiestie that he would stay the fight, and 
 he would finde a raeanes without any bloodshed to end the matter ; 
 the King was very glad hereof, and caused the Combatants to be 
 brought before him, to whom he said : Gentlemen, to saue the 
 blood of you all, I have found a way, and yet the controuersie shall 
 be ended that is now amongst you: Are you contented to stand to 
 his Judgment that I shall appoint: they all answered, that they 
 were. Then were they bid to returne three days after. In that 
 time Fryer Bacon had caused the Body of their deceased Father 
 to be taken out of the ground, and brought to the Court: the 
 Body hee did cause to be bound to a Stake, naked to the middle 
 vpwards and likewise prepared three Bowes and Shafts for the 
 three Brethren : all these kept hee secretly. 
 
 The third day being come, came these three Brethren, to 
 whom Fryer Bacon in the presence of the King gaue the three 
 Bowes and Shaft*, saying, Be not offended at what I have done, 
 there is no other way but this to Judge your cause: See here is 
 the body of your dead Father, shoot at him, for he that cometh 
 nearest to his heart, shall have all the Lands and Goods. 
 
 The two eldest prepared themselues, and shot at him, and 
 stucke their Arrowes in his Breast. Then bid they the youngest 
 to shoot: but he refused it, saying, I will rather loose all, then 
 wound that body that I so loued liuing: Had you euer had but 
 halfe that loue (in you) to him that I haue, you would rather 
 haue had your own bodies mangled, than to suffer his lifelesse 
 Corps thus to be vsed ; nay, you doe not onely suffer it, but you 
 are the actors of this act of shame: and speaking this, he wept. 
 
 Fryer Bacon seeing this, did give the Judgement on his side, 
 for he loved his Father best, and therefore had all his Lands and 
 Goods: the other two Brothers went away with shame for what 
 they had done. This deed of Fryer Bacons was highly com- 
 mended of all men: for he did not onely giue true Judgement, but 
 also saued much blood that would haue beene shed, had they 
 becne suffered to haue fought. 
 
£6 
 
 TH£ FAMOtJS HISTORY 
 
 Hole Fryer Bacon served the Theenes that robbed him , and of the 
 sport that his man Miles had zeith them. 
 
 TT was reported about the Countrey how that the King had 
 given Fryer Bacon great store of Treasure. The report of 
 this wealth made three Theeues plot to rob Fryer Bacons house, 
 which they put in practise one Euening in this fashion. They 
 knockt at the doore and were let in by Miles : No sooner were 
 they in, but they took hold of him, and led him into the house, 
 and finding Fryer Bacon there, they told him that they came for 
 some money, which they must and would have ere they departed 
 from thence. He told them, that he was but ill stored with 
 money at that time, and therefore desired them to forbeare him 
 till some other time. They answered him againe, that they 
 knew that hee had enough, and therefore it was but folly to 
 delay them, but straight let them haue it by faire meanes, 
 or else they would vse that extremitie to him that hee would 
 bee loth to suffer. Hee seeing them so resolute, told them that 
 they should haue all that hee had, and gaue to them one 
 hundred pounds a man. Herewith they seemed content, and 
 would have gone their wayes. Nay, said Fryer Bacon, I pray 
 Gentlemen at my request tarry a little, and heare some of my 
 mans Musicke: you are byred reasonable well already, I hope in 
 courtesie you will not deny mee so small a request. That will 
 wee not, (said they all.) 
 
 Miles thought now to haue some sport with them, which hee 
 had, and therefore plaid lustily on his Tabor and Pipe : so soone 
 as they heard him play (against their wills) they fell a dauncing 
 and that after such a laborious manner, that they quickly wearied 
 themselues (for they had all that while the bagges of money in 
 their hands.) Yet had Fryer Bacon not reuenge enough of 
 them, but bid his man Miles leave them some larger measure as 
 hee thought fitting, which Miles did. Miles straight ledde them 
 out of the house into the fields, they followed him, dauncing 
 after a wilde Anticke manner : Then led hee them over a broad 
 
OF FRYER BACON. 
 
 27 
 
 dike full of water, and they followed him still, but not so good 
 a way as he went (for he went over the Bridge, but they by 
 reason of their dauncing, could not keepe the Bridge, but fell off, 
 and dauncing through the water) then led hee them through a 
 way where a horse might very well haue beene vp to the belly: 
 they followed him, and were so durtie, as though they had 
 wallowed in the myre like Swine: Sometime gaue hee them rest 
 onely to laugh at them: then were they so sleepie when hee did 
 not play, that they fell to the ground. Then on the sudden 
 would hee play againe, and make them start vp and follow him. 
 Thus kept hee them the better part of the night. At last hee in 
 pitde left playing, and let them rest. They being asleepe on the 
 bare ground he tooke their money from them, and gave them 
 this Song for their farewell, To the tune of, Oh doe me no harme 
 good man. 
 
 You roaring Boyes, and sturdy Theeues, 
 you Pimpes, and Aples squires: 
 
 Lament the case of these poor knaues, 
 and warme them by your fires. 
 
 They snorting lye like Hogs in stie, 
 but hardly are so warme: 
 
 If all that cheat, such hap should meet, 
 to true men ’twere no harme. 
 
 They money had, which made them glad, 
 their io} r did not indure: 
 
 Were all Theeues seru’d as these haue beene, 
 
 I thinke there would bee fewer. 
 
 When that they wake, their hearts will ake, 
 to thinke vpon their losse; 
 
 And though the gallows they escape, 
 they goe by weeping crosse. 
 
28 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 Your Trulls expect your comming home 
 with full and heauy purse : 
 
 When that they see tis nothing so, 
 oh how they’le rayle and curse. 
 
 For hee that loues to keepe a whore, 
 must have a giving hand. 
 
 Which makes a many knaves be choakt, 
 for bidding true men stand. 
 
 They were scarce any thing the better for this Song, for they 
 slept all the while : so Miles left them at their rest ; but they 
 had small cause to sleepe so soundly as they did, for they 
 were more wett than ere was Scold with cucking. Miles gaue 
 his Master his money againe, and told the story of their merry 
 pilgrimage: he laughed at it, and wisht all men had the like 
 power to serue all such knaues in the like kind. The theeues 
 waking in the morning and missing their money, and seeing 
 themselves in that plight, thought that they had been serued so 
 by some divine power, for robbing a Church-man, and therefore 
 they swore one to the other, neuer to meddle with any Church- 
 man againe. 
 
 How Vandermast, for the disgrace that he had receiued by Fryer 
 Bacon sent a Sonldier to kill him ; and how Fryer Bacon escaped 
 killing , and turned the Souldier from an Atheist to be a good 
 Christian . 
 
 F RYER Bacon sitting one day in his Study, looked ouer all 
 the dangers that were to happen to him that moneth, there 
 found he, that in the second weeke of the moneth between Sunne 
 rising and setting, there was a great danger to fall on him, which 
 would without great care of preuention take away his life. This 
 danger which he did foresee, was caused by the Germane 
 Coniurer Vandermast , for he vowed a reuenge for the dis- 
 
OF FRYER BACON* 
 
 29 
 
 grace that he had received. To execute the same, hee hyred 
 a Walloon Souldier, and gaue him one hundred crownes to do 
 the same, fifty beforehand, and fifty when hee had killed him. 
 
 Fryer Bacon, to saue himselfe from this danger that was like to 
 happen to him would alwayes when that he read, hold a ball of 
 Brasse in his hand, and vnder that ball would hee set a bason of 
 Brasse, that if hee did chance to sleepe in his reading, the fall of 
 the Ball out of his hand into the Bason, might wake him. Being 
 one day in his study in this manner, and asleepe, the Walloon 
 Souldier was got in to him, and had drawne his sword to kill him: 
 but as hee was ready for to strike, downe fell the Ball out of 
 Fryer Bacons hand, and waked him. Hee seeing the Souldier 
 stand there with a sword drawne, asked him what hee was? and 
 wherefore hee came there in that manner ? The Souldier boldly 
 answered him thus: I am a Walloon, and a Souldier, and more 
 then this, a villaine: I am come hither, because I was sent; I 
 was sent, because I was hyred: 1 was hyred, because I durst do 
 it: the thing I should doe, is not done : the thing to be done, is 
 to kill thee: thus haue 3 7 ou heard what I am and why I came. 
 Fryer Bacon wondered at this man’s resolution ; then asked hee 
 of him, who set him on worke to bee a murderer? Hee boldly 
 told him, Vandermast the Germane Coniurer: Fryer Bacon then 
 asked him what Religion he was of? He answered, Of that which 
 many doe professe, the chief principles of which were these: to 
 goe to an Ale-house, and to a Church with one deuotion, to 
 absteine from euil for want of action, and to doe good against 
 their wills. It is a good profession for a deuil (said Fryer Bacon.) 
 Doest thou belieue hell? I believe no such thing, answered the 
 Souldier. Then will I shew thee the contrary, said the Fryer: 
 and presently raised the ghost of Iulian the Apostate, who came 
 up with his body burning, and so full of wounds, that it almost did 
 affright the Souldier out of his wits. Then Bacon did command 
 this spirit to speake, and to shew what hee was, and wherefore 
 hee was thus tormented? Then spake hee to it in this manner: I 
 sometimes was a Roman Emperour: some count greatnesse a 
 happinesse: I had hnppinesse beyond my Empire, had I kept 
 that, I had beene a happy man: would I had lost my Empire 
 
30 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 when [ lost that. I was a Christian, that was my happiness ; but 
 my selfe loue and pride made me to fall from it; for which I 
 now am punished with neuer ceasing torments, which I must still 
 endure: the like which I enioy is now prepared for unbeleeuing 
 wretches like myself, so vanished he away. 
 
 All this while the Souldier stood quaking, and sweat as he had 
 felt the torments himselfe; and falling downe on his knees desired 
 Fryer Bacon to instruct him in a better course of life, then he 
 had yet gone in. Fryer Bacon told him, that he should not want 
 his helpe in any thing, which he performed, instructing him 
 better: then gaue he him money, and sent him to the warres of 
 of the holy land, where he was slain. 
 
 How Fryer Bacon deceiued an old Vsurer. 
 
 N OT fane from Fryer Bacon , dwelt an olde man that had 
 great store of money which hee let out to vse, and would 
 neuer doe any good with it to the poore, though Fryer Bacon 
 had often put him in minde of it, and wished him to do some 
 good whilest he liued. Fryer Bacon seeing this, by his Art 
 made an iron pot, which seemed full of gold, this being done, 
 he went to this rich Vsurer, and told him, that he had some gold 
 which he had gathered in his time that he had liued; but it 
 being much in quantity, hee feared that if it were knowne, it 
 would be taken from him, because it was vnfitting a man of his 
 coat should haue so much: Now he desired him that hee would 
 let him haue some hundred pounds, which was not the sixth part 
 of his gold, and he should kepe it for him. The Vsurer was glad 
 to heare of this, and told him that he should have it, and that he 
 would keep his Gold as safe as he himself would: Fryer Bacon 
 was glad to heare of this, and presently fetcht the pot: at the 
 sight of which the Vsurer laughed, and thought to himself, how 
 all that gold was his owne, for hee had a determination to gull 
 the Fryer, but he gulled himselfe. See here is the gold (said 
 Fryer Bacoji) now let me haue of you one hundred pounds, and 
 
OF FRYER BACON. 
 
 keep you this gold till I pay it backe again. Very willingly (said 
 the Vsurer) and told him one hundred pounds out, which Fryer 
 Bacon tookeand deliuered him the note, and so went his way. This 
 mony did Fryer Bacon giue to diuers poore schollers, and other 
 people and bid them pray for old Good-gatherers soules health (so 
 was this Vsurer call’d) which these poor people did, and would 
 give him thankes and prayers when they met him, which he did 
 wonder at; for he neuer deserved the praires of any man. At last 
 this old Good-gatherer went to looke on this pot of gold, but 
 instead of gold he found nothing but earthy at which sight he 
 would haue died, had not his other gold hindred him, which hee 
 was to leave behind him: so gathering vp his spirits, hee went to 
 Fryer Bacon, and told him he was abused and cheated; for which 
 he would haue the law of him, vnlesse he made him restitution. 
 Fryer Bacon told him, that he had not cheated him, but bin his 
 faithful steward to the poore, which he could not chuse but 
 know, either by their prayers, or their thanks; and as for the law 
 he feared it not, but bid him doe his worst. The old man seeing 
 Fryer Bacons resolution, went his way, and said, that hereafter 
 hee would be his owne steward. 
 
 7 low Miles, Fryer Bacons man did coniure for meat , and got meat 
 for liimselfe and his Iloast. 
 
 iLES chanced one day vpon some businesse, to goe some 
 
 six miles from home, and being loth to part with some 
 company that he had, he was be-lated, and could get but halfe 
 way home that night: to saue his purse hee went to ones house 
 that was his Masters acquaintance: but when he came, the 
 good man of the house was not at home, and the woman would 
 not let him have lodging. Miles seeing such cold entertainment 
 wished he had not troubled her, but being now there, he was loth 
 to goe any further and therefore with good words he perswaded 
 her for to give him lodging that night. She told him that she 
 would willingly do it, if her husband were at home,, but he being 
 
THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 St 
 
 now out of towne, it would be to her discredit to lodge any man. 
 You neede not mistrust me, (said Miles ) for I haue no thought to 
 attempt your chastitie: locke me in anyplace where there is a 
 bed, and I will not trouble you till to morrow that I rise. She 
 thinking her husband would be angry if she should deny any of 
 his friends so small a request, consented that he should lye there, 
 if that he would be locked vp : Miles was contented and presently 
 went to bed, and she locked him into the chamber where he lay. 
 
 Long had not he beene a bed, but he heard the doore open; 
 with that he rose and peeped through a chinke of the partition, 
 and saw ail old man come in : this man set down his Basket that 
 he had on his arme, and gaue the woman of the house three or four 
 sweet kisses, which made Miles his mouth runne with water to see 
 it: Then did hee vndoe his Basket, and pulled out of it a fat 
 Capon ready roasted, and Bread, with a bottle of good olde 
 Sacke: this gaue hee vnto her, saying: Sweetheart, hearing thy 
 Husband was out of towne, I thought good to visite thee, I am 
 not come emptie handed, but haue brought some thing to be 
 merrie withal: lay the clothe sweete Hony, and let vs first to 
 Banquet, and then to bed. She kindly thanked him, and pre- 
 sently did as he bad her: They were not scarce set at the Table, 
 but her husband returning backe, knockt at the doore. The 
 woman hearing this was amazed, and knew not what to doe with 
 her old Lover: but looking on her apron strings, she straight 
 found (as women vse to doo) a trick to put herself free from this 
 feare? for shee put her Louer vnder the bed, the Capon and 
 Bread she put under a Tub, the bottle of Wine shee put behinde 
 the Chest, and then she did open the doore, and with a dis- 
 sembling kisse welcomed her husband home, asking him the 
 reason why that he returned so quickly. He told her, that hee had 
 forgot the money that he should haue carried with him, but on 
 the morrow betimes hee would be gone. Miles saw and heard all 
 this: and bauing a desire to taste of the Capon and the Wine, 
 called to the Goodman. He asked his wife who that was? She 
 told him, an acquaintance of his, that intreated lodging there 
 that night. He bid her open the door, which she did, and let 
 Miles out. Hee seeing Miles there, bid him welcome, and bade 
 
OF FRYER BACON. 
 
 33 
 
 his wife to set them some meate on the table: she told him that 
 there was not any read}', but prayed him to kepehis stomacke till 
 morrow, and then she would prouide them a good breakefast. 
 Since it is so Miles (said the goodman) wee must rest contented, 
 and sleepe out our hunger. Nay stay said Miles , if that you can 
 eate, I can find you good meat; I am a Scholler, and haue some 
 Art. I would faine see it (said the goodman) You shall quoth 
 Miles , and that presently. With that Miles pulled forth a booke 
 out of his bosome, and began his Coniuration in this fashion : 
 
 From the fearefull Lake below, 
 
 From whence Spirits come and goe; 
 
 Straightway come one and attend 
 Fryer Bacons man, and friend. 
 
 Comes there none yet, quoth Miles ? then I must vse some 
 other Charme. 
 
 Now the Owle is flowne abroad, 
 
 For I heare the croaking Toade, 
 
 And the Bat that shuns the day, 
 
 Through the darke doth make her way. 
 
 Now the ghosts of men doe rise. 
 
 And with fearful hideous cryes, 
 
 Seeke reuengement (from the good) 
 
 On their heads that spilt their blood. 
 
 Come some Spirit, quicke I say. 
 
 Night’s the Deuils Holy-day: 
 
 Where ere you be, in dennes, or lake, 
 
 In the luy, Ewe, or Brake: 
 
 Quickly come and me attend. 
 
 That am Bacons man and friend. 
 
 But I will haue you take no shape 
 Of a Beare, a Horse, or Ape: 
 
 Nor will I haue you terrible, 
 
 And therefore come invisible. 
 
34 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 Now is he come, (quoth Miles) and therefore tell me what meat 
 you will haue mine Hoast: Any thing Miles , (said the Goode- 
 man) what thou wilt. Why then (said Miles) what say you to a 
 Capon? I loue it aboue all meat (said the Goodman.) Why then 
 a Capon you shall haue, and that a good one too. Bemo my 
 spirit that I have raised to doe mee seruice, I charge thee, seeke 
 and search about the earth, and bring me hither straight the best 
 of Capons ready roasted. Then stood hee still a little, as though 
 he had attended the comming of his spirit, and on the sudden 
 said : It is well done my Bemo, hee hath brought me (mine 
 Hoast, a fat Capon from the King of Tripolis owne Table, and 
 bread with it. Aye, but where is it Miles (said the Hoast) I see 
 neither Spirit nor Capon. Looke under the Tub (quoth Miles ) 
 and there you shall finde it. He presently did, and brought (to 
 his wiues griefe) the Capon and Bread out. Stay (quoth Miles) 
 we do yet want some drinke that is comfortable and good ; I 
 think (mine Hoast) a bottle of Maliga Sacke were not amisse, I 
 will haue it: Bemo, haste thee to Maliga, and fetch me from the 
 Governours, a Bottle of his best Sacke. The poore woman 
 thought that hee would haue betrayed her and her louer, and 
 therefore wished that he had beene hanged, when that hee came 
 first into her house. Hee hauing stood a little while, as before, 
 saide: Well done, Bemo, looke behinde the great chest (mine 
 Hoast) Hee did so, and brought out the Bottle of Sacke. Now 
 (quoth hee) Miles sit downe, and welcome to thine owne Cheere: 
 You may see wife (quoth he) what a man of Art can doe, get a 
 fatte Capon, and a Bottle of good Sacke in a quarter of an 
 houre, and for nothing, wdiich is best of all : Come (good wife) 
 sit downe, and bee merry; for all this is paid for, I thanke 
 Miles . 
 
 Shee sate, but could not eat a bit for anger, but wished that 
 every bit they did eate might choake them: Her old Louer too 
 that lay vnder the bed all this while, was ready to bepisse himselfe 
 for feare, for hee still looked when that Miles would discouer 
 him. When they had eaten and drunke well, the good man 
 desired Miles that hee would let him see the Spirit that fetched 
 them this good cheere : Miles seemed vnwilling, telling him that 
 
OF FRYER BACON. 
 
 35 
 
 it was against the Lawes of Art, to let an illiterate man see a 
 Spirit, but yet, for once hee would let him see it: and told him 
 withall, that hee must open the door, and soundly beat the 
 Spirit: or else hee should bee troubled hereafter with it: and 
 because he should not feare it, hee would put it in the shape of 
 some one of his neighbours. The Good man told him, that hee 
 neede not to doubt his valour, he would beat him soundly, and 
 to that purpose hee took a good Cudgell in his hand, and did 
 stande ready for him. Miles then went to the bed side, vnder 
 which the old man lay, and began to coniure him with these words. 
 
 Bemo quickly come, appeare. 
 
 Like an old man that dwells nee re : 
 Quickly rise, and in his shape, 
 From this house make thy escape; 
 Quickly rise, or else I sweare, 
 
 He put thee in a worser feare. 
 
 The old man seeing no remedy, but that hee must needes 
 come forth, put a good face on it, and rose from under the bed : 
 Behold my Spirit (quoth Miles ) that brought me all that you 
 haue had; Now bee as good as your word and swaddle him 
 soundly. I protest (said the Goodman) your Deuili is as like 
 Goodman Stumpe the Tooth-drawer, as a Pomewater is like an 
 Apple: Is it possible that your Spirits can take other mens 
 shapes: He teach this to keepe his owne shape; with that hee beat 
 the old man soundly, so that Miles was faine to take him off, and 
 put the old man out of doore, so after some laughing, to bed 
 they all went: but the woman could not sleepe for griefe, that 
 her old Louer had had such bad usage for her sake. 
 
36 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 How Fryer Bacon did helpe a young man to his Szceetheart , which 
 Fryer Bungye would have married to another; and of the mirth 
 that was at the wedding. 
 
 A N Oxfordshire Gentleman had long time loued a faire 
 Mayde, called Millisant ; this lone of his was as kindly 
 receiued of her, as it was freely giuen of him, so that there 
 wanted nothing to the finishing of their ioyes, but the consent of 
 her Father, who would not grant that she should bee his wife 
 (though formerly he had been a meanes to further the match) by 
 reason there was a Knight that was a suitor to her, and did desire 
 that hee might haue her to his wife : But this Knight could neuer 
 get from her the least token of good will : so surely was her loue 
 fixed vpon the Gentleman. This Knight seeing himselfe thus 
 despised, went to Fryer Bungye , and told him his mind, and did 
 promise him a good piece of money if he could get her for him, 
 either by his Art, or Counsell. 
 
 Bungye (being couetous) told him, that there was no better 
 way in his mind, than to get her with her Father to go take the 
 ayre in a Coach: and if hee could doe so, he would by his Art so 
 direct the horses, that they should come to an old Chappell, 
 where hee would attend, and there they might- secretly be 
 married. The Knight rewarded him for his counsell, and told 
 him, that if it tooke effect, he would be more bountifull unto 
 him, and presently went to her Father, and told him of this. 
 Hee liked well of it, and forced the poore Maid to ride with them. 
 So soone as they were in the Coach, the horses ran presently to 
 the Chappell, where they found Fryer Bungye attending for 
 them : At the sight of the Church and the Priest, the poore 
 Maid knew that she was betraid, so that for griefe shee fell in a 
 swound : to see which her Father and the Knight, were very 
 much grieued, and vsed their best skill for her recouery. 
 
 In this time, her best Beloued, the Gentleman, did come to 
 her Father’s to visit her, but finding her not there! and hearing 
 that she was gone with her Father, and the Knight, he mistrusted 
 some foul play : and in all hast went to Fryer Bacon , and desired 
 
Or FRYER JlACON. 
 
 O ^ 
 
 04 
 
 of him some help to recouer his Loue againe, whom he feared 
 was utterly lost. 
 
 Fryer Bacon (knowing him for a vertuous Gentleman) pittyed 
 him; and to giue his griefes some release, shewed him a Glasse, 
 wherein any one might see any thing done (within fifty miles 
 space) that they desired: So soone as he looked in the Glasse, 
 bee saw his Loue MiUisatit with her Father, and the Knight, 
 ready to be married by Fryer Bungye : At the sight of this hee 
 cryed out that he was vndone, for now should he lose his life in 
 losing of his Loue. Fryer Bacon bids him take comfort, for he 
 would preuent the marriage; so taking this Gentleman in his 
 armes, he set himselfe dovvne in an enchanted Chaire, and 
 suddenly they were carried through the ayre to the Chappell. 
 Just as they came in, Fryer Bungye was ioyning their hands to 
 marry them : but Fryer Bacon spoyled his speech, for he strucke 
 him dumbe, so that he could not speake a worde. Then raised 
 he a myst in the Chappell, so that neither the Father could see 
 his Daughter, nor the Daughter her Father, nor the Knight 
 either of them. Then tooke he MUlisant by the hand, and led 
 her to the man she most desired : they both wept for ioy, that they 
 so happily once more had met, and kindly thanked Fryer Bacon . 
 
 It greatly pleased Fryer Bacon to see the passion of these two 
 Louers, and seeing them both contented, he marryed them at the 
 Chappell doore, wildest her Father, the Knight, and Fryer 
 Bungye went groping within, and could not find the way out. 
 Now when he had married them, he bid them get lodging at the 
 next Village, and he would send his man with money: (for the 
 Gentleman was not stored, and he had a great way to his house) 
 they did as he bad them. That night hee sent his man Miles 
 with money to them; but he kept her Father, the Knight, and 
 Fryer Bungey till the next day at noon in the Chappell, ere he 
 released them. 
 
 The Gentleman and his new married wife made that night a 
 great Supper for ioy of their marriage, and bid to it most of the 
 Village: They wanted nothing but Musicke, for which they 
 made great moane. This want, Fryer Bacon (though he was 
 absent) supplied : For after Supper there came such a Maske, 
 
38 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 that the like was neuer seene in that Village: For first, there was 
 heard most sweet still Musicke, then wind Musicke: Then came 
 three Apes, and three Monkeys, each of them carrying a Torch : 
 after thenr followed sixe Apes and Monkeys more, all dressed in 
 Anticke coats: these last sixe fell a dancing in such an odde 
 manner, that they moued all the beholders to much laughter: so 
 after diuers Antick changes, they did reuerence to theBridegroome 
 and Bride, and so departed in order as they came in. They all 
 did maruell from whence these should come: but the Bridegroome 
 knew that it was Fryer Bacons Art that gaue them this grace to 
 their Wedding. When all was done, to bed they went, and 
 enioyed their wishes. The next day he went home to his owne 
 house with his Bride: and for the cost he had bestowed on them, 
 most part of the Townes-folke brought them on their way. 
 
 Miles made one amonst them too ; he for his Masters sake was 
 so plyed with Cups, that he in three dayes was scarce sober: for 
 his welcome, at his departure he gaue them this song: To the 
 tune of, I haue beene a Fiddler , 8$c, 
 
 And did not you heare of a mirth that befell, 
 the morrow after a wedding day : 
 
 At carrying a Bride at home to dwell, 
 and away to T wilier, away, away ? 
 
 The Quintin was set, and the garlands were made, 
 
 Tis a pity old custome should euer decay : 
 
 And woe be to him that was horst on a lade, 
 for he carried no credit away, away. 
 
 We met a consort of Fiddle-de-dees, 
 
 we set them a cock-horse, and made them to play. 
 
 The winning of Bullen, and Vpsie-frees, 
 and away to Twiuer away, away. 
 
OF FRYER BACON. 
 
 39 
 
 There was ne’er a Lad in all the Parish, 
 that would goe to the Plow that day : 
 
 But on his Fore-horse his Wench he carries, 
 and away to Twiuer, away, away. 
 
 The Butler was quicke, and the Ale he did tap, 
 the Maidens did make the chamber full gay: 
 
 The Serving-men gaue me a Pudding Cap, 
 and I did carye it away, away. 
 
 The Smith of the Tovvne his Liquor so tooke, 
 that he was perswaded the ground look’d blue, 
 
 And I dare boldly to sweare on a booke, 
 such Smiths as he there are but a few. 
 
 A Posset was made, and the women did sip, 
 and simpering said they could eate no more : 
 
 Full many a maid was laid on the lip: 
 lie say no more, but so giue o’re. 
 
 They kindly thanked Miles for his Song, and so sent him home 
 with a Foxe at his Tayle. His Master asked him, Where he had 
 beene so long? He told him at the Wedding. I know it, (said 
 Fryer Bacon) that thou hast beene there, and I know also (thou 
 beast) that thou hast been euery day drunke. That is the worst 
 that you can say by me. Master, for still poore men must be 
 drunke, if that they take a cup more than ordinary; but it is not 
 so with the rich. Why how is it with the rich then? 1 will tell 
 you (said Miles) in few words, 
 
 Lawyers they are sicke. 
 
 And Fryers are ill at ease; 
 
 But poore men they are drunke. 
 
 And all is one disease. 
 
 VV ell sirrah (said Fryer Bacon) let me not lieare that you are 
 infected any more with this disease, lest I giue you sowre sawce 
 
40 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 to your sweet meat. Thus did Fryer Bacon helpe these poore 
 Louers, who in short time got the loue of the old man, and liued 
 in great ioy: Fryer Bungye's tongue was againe let loose, and 
 all were friends. 
 
 Hozc Vandermast and Fryer Bungye met, and how they striued who 
 should excel one another in their Coniurations ; and of their 
 deaths. 
 
 V ANDERMAST thinking that Fryer Bacon had beene dead, 
 came into England, and in Kent met with Fryer Bungey : 
 he owing him no good will for Fryer Bacozis sake, took his horse 
 out of the Stable, and instead of it, left a Spirit like vnto it. 
 Fryer Bungye in the morning rose, and mounting this Spirit, 
 (which he thought had beene his Horse) rode on his iourney : 
 but he riding through a water, was left in the midst of it by this 
 Spirit; and being thus wet, hee returned to his Inne. At the 
 Inne doore, Vandermast met him, and asked him, if that were 
 swimming time of the year? Bungye told him, If that he had 
 been so well horsed as he was, when Fryer Bacon sent him into 
 Germany, he might have escaped that washing. At this Vander - 
 mast bit his lip, and said no more, but went in. Bungye thought 
 that he would be euen with him, which was in this manner. 
 Vandermast loued a Wench well, which was in the house, and 
 sought many times to winne her for gold, loue, or promises. 
 Bungye knowing this, did shape a Spirit like this Wench, which 
 he sent to Vandermast. Vandermast appointed the Spirit (think- 
 ing it had beene the Wench) to come to his Chamber that night, 
 and was very ioyful that he should enioy her now at the last: but 
 his ioy turned into sorrow^ and his wanton hopes into a bad 
 nights lodging: for Fryer Bungye had by his Art spread such a 
 sheet on his bed, that no sooner was he laid with the Spirit on it, 
 but it was carryed through the ayre, and let fall into a deepe 
 Pond, where Vandermast had been drowned, if he had not had 
 the Art of swimming: He got quickly out of the Pond, and 
 shaked himselfe like a rough Water-Spanniel ; but being out, he 
 
OF FRYER BACON. 
 
 41 
 
 was as much vexed as before, for he could not tell the way home, 
 but was glad to keepe himselfe in heat that night with walking. 
 Next day he comming to his Inne, Fryer Bungye asked him 
 how he did like his Wench ? he said. So well, that he wished 
 him such another, Bungye told him, that his Order did forbid 
 him the vse of any, and therefore he might keepe them for his 
 friends: Thus did they continually vexe each other, both in words, 
 and ill actions. Vandermast desiring to do Fryer Bungey a 
 mischiefe, did challenge him to the field (not to fight at Sword 
 and Dagger, single Rapier, or case of Poinyards, but at worser 
 weapons farre, it was at that diabolical Art. of Magicke) there 
 to shew which of them was most cunning, or had most power 
 ouer the Deuill: Bungye accepted of his challenge, and both 
 prouided themselues of things belonging to the Art, and to the 
 field they went. 
 
 There they both spied their Circles some hundred foot from 
 one another: and after some other Ceremonies did Vandermast 
 begin: Hee by his Charmes did raise vp a fiery Dragon, which 
 did runne about Fryer Bungyes Circle, and did scorch him with 
 his heat so that he was almost ready to melt. Fryer Bungye 
 tormented Vandermast, in another Element: for he raised vp the 
 Sea-monster that Perseus killed, when he did redeem the faire 
 Andromeda . This Sea -monster did run about Vandermast , and 
 such flouds of water did he send out of his wide mouth, that 
 Vandermast was almost drowned. Then did Fryer Bungye raise 
 a Spirit vp like Saint George , w 7 ho fought with the Dragon, and 
 killed it: Vandermast (following his example) raysed vp Perseus , 
 who fought also with liis Sea-monster, and killed it, so were they 
 both released from their danger. 
 
 They being not contented with this tryall of their skill, went 
 further in their Coniurations, and raised vp two Spirits, each of 
 them one. Bungye charged his Spirit for to assist him with the 
 greatest power hee had, that by it he might be able to ouercome 
 Vandermast. The Deuill told him he would, if that he from his 
 left arrne would giue him hut three drops of blood: but if that he 
 did deny him that, then should T andermast have power ouer 
 him to doe what he would: The like told V andermast s Deuill to 
 
42 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 him: to this demand of the Spirits, they both agreed, thinking 
 for toouercome each other; but the Deuill ouerthrew them both. 
 
 They hauing giuen the Deuil this bloud, as is before spoken 
 of, they both fell againe to their Coniurations : First, Bungye did 
 rayse Achilles with his Greekes , who marched abont Vandermast 
 and threatned him. Then Vandermast raised Hector with his 
 Troians , who defended him from Achilles and the Greekes. Then 
 began there a great battell between the Greekes and Troians, 
 which continued a good space: At last Hector was slaine, and 
 the Troians fled. Then did follow a great tempest, with thund- 
 ring and lightning, so that the two Coniurers wished that they 
 had been away. But wishes were in vaine: for now the time 
 was come, that the Deuill would be paid for the knowledge that 
 he had lent them, he would not tarry any longer, but then tooke 
 them in the height of their wickednesse, and bereft them of their 
 liues. 
 
 When the Tempest was ended, (which did greatly affright the 
 Townes there by) the Townesmen found the bodies of these two 
 men, ( Vandermast and Bungey) breathlesse^ and strangely burnt 
 with fire. The one had Christian buriall, because of his Order- 
 sake : the other, because he was a stranger. Thus was the end 
 of these two famous Coniurers. 
 
 How Miles zoould coniure for money , and hozc he broke his legge 
 
 forfeare . 
 
 M ILES one day finding his Masters Study open, stole out of 
 it one of his Coniuring-Bookes : with this Booke would 
 Miles needes coniure for some money : (for he saw that his 
 Master had money enough, and he desired the like, which did 
 make him bold to trouble one of his Masters Deuils:) in a 
 private place he thought it best to doe it: therefore he went vp 
 to the top of the house, and there began to reade: Long had he 
 not read, but a Deuill came to him in an vgly shape, and asked 
 him what he would haue ? Miles being affrighted, could not 
 speake, but stood quaking there like an Aspin leafe: the Deuill 
 
OF FRYER BACON. 
 
 43 
 
 seeing him so, (to increase his feare) raised a tempest, and hurled 
 fire about, which made Miles leape from off the Leades, and with 
 his fall broke his legge. 
 
 Fryer Bacon hearing this noyse, ranne forth, and found his 
 man Miles on the ground, and the Deuill hurling fire on the 
 house top. First laid he the Deuill againe : Then went he to his 
 man and asked how hee got that broken legge? Hee told him 
 his Deuill did it: for he had frighted him, and made him leape 
 off from the house top. What didst thou there, (said his 
 Master?) I went to coniure, Sir (said Miles) for money; but I 
 haue got nothing but a broken legge; and I now must beg for 
 money to cure that, if you be not the more pittifull to me. I 
 haue oftentimes giuen you warning not to meddle with my bookes 
 (said his Master) and yet you will still be doing: take heed, you 
 had best, how you deale with the Deuil againe: for he that had 
 power to breake your legge will breake your necke, if you againe 
 doe meddle with him : for this I doe forgiue you : for your legge 
 breaking hath paid for your sawcinesse: and though I gaue you 
 not a broken head, I will giue you a plaister: and so sent him to 
 the Chirurgions. 
 
 How two young Gentlemen that came to Fryer Bacon, to know how 
 their fathers did , killed one another ; and how Fryer Bacon for 
 griefe, did , breake his rare Glasse , wherein he could see any thing 
 that was done within fifty miles about him . 
 
 I T is spoken of before now, that Fryer Bacon had a Glasse, 
 which was of that excellent nature, that any man might 
 behold any thing that he desired to see within the compasse of 
 fifty miles round about him: With this Glasse he had pleasured 
 diuers kinds of people: for Fathers did oftentimes desire to see 
 (thereby) how their Children did, and Children how their Parents 
 did; one Friend how another did; and one enemy (sometimes) 
 how his Enemy did: so that from far they would come to see 
 this wonderful l Glasse. It happened one day, that there came to 
 him two young Gentlemen, (that were Countrey men, and Neigh- 
 
44 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 bors children) for to know of him by his Glasse, how their 
 Fathers did: Hee being no niggard of his cunning, let them see 
 his Glasse, wherein they straight beheld their wishes, which they 
 (through their owne follies) bought at their lives losses, as you 
 shall heare* 
 
 The Fathers of these two Gentlemen, (in their Sonnes absence) 
 were become great foes : this hatred betweene them was growne 
 to that height, that wheresoeuer they met, they had not onely 
 wordes, but blow r es: Just at that time, as it should seeme, that 
 their Sonnes were looking to see how they were in health, they 
 were met, and had drawne, and were together by the eares. 
 Their Sonnes seeing this, and hauitig been alwayes great friends, 
 knew not what to say to one another, but beheld each other with 
 angry lookes: At last,, one of their Fathers, as they might per- 
 ceiue in the Glasse, had a fall, and the other taking aduantage) 
 stood ouer him ready to strike him: The Sonne of him that was 
 downe, could then containe himselfe no longer, but told the 
 other young man, this his Father had receiued wrong. He 
 answered againe, that it was faire. At last there grew such foule 
 words betweene them, and their bloods were so heated, that they 
 presently stabbed one the other with their Daggers, aud so fell 
 downe dead. 
 
 Fryer Bacon seeing them fall, ranne to them, but it was too 
 late for they were breathlesse ere he came. This made him to 
 grieue exceedingly : he iudging that they had receiued the cause 
 of their deaths by this Glasse, tooke the Glasse in his hand, and 
 vttered words to this effect : 
 
 Wretched Bacon , wretched in thy knowledge, in thy vnder- 
 standing wretched; for thy Art hath beene the ruine of these two 
 Gentlemen. Had I been busied in those holy things, the which 
 mine order tyes me to, I had not had that time that made this 
 wicked Glasse: Wicked I well may call it, that is the causer of 
 so vile an Act : would it were sensible, then should it feele my 
 wrath; but being as it is, lie ruin it for ruining of them: and 
 with that he broke his rare and wonderfull Glasse, whose like the 
 whole world had not. In this grief of his, came there newes to 
 him of the deaths of Vandermast and Fryer Bungey : This did 
 
OF FRYER BACON. 
 
 45 
 
 increase his griefe, and made him sorrowful!, that in three days 
 he would not eate any thing but kept his Chamber. 
 
 How Fryer Bacon burnt his books of Magick, and gave himself e to 
 the study of Diuinity only', and how he turned Anchorite . 
 
 I N the time that Fryer Bacon kept his Chamber, hee fell into 
 diuers meditations: sometimes into the vanity of Arts and 
 Sciences : then would hee condemne himselfe for studying of 
 those things that were so contrary to his Order and Soules 
 health; and would say, that Magicke made a Man a Deuilf: 
 sometimes would hee meditate on Diuinity; then would he cry 
 out vpon himselfe, for neglecting the study of it, and for study- 
 ing Magick : sometime would he meditate on the shortnesse of 
 mans life, then would he condemne himselfe for spending a time 
 so short, so ill as he had done his: so would he goe from one 
 thins: to another and in all condemne his former studies. 
 
 And that the world should know how truly he did repent his 
 wicked life, he caused to be made a great fire; and sending for 
 many of his Friends, Scbollers, and others, he spake to them 
 after this manner: My good Friends and fellow Students, it is 
 not vnknowne vnto you, how that through my Art I haue attained 
 to that credit, that few men liuing euer had : Of the wonders 
 that I hane done, all England can speak, both King and Com- 
 mons: t haue unlocked the secret of Art and nature, and let the 
 world see those things, that haue layen hid since the death of 
 Hermes , that rare and profound Philosopher : My Studies haue 
 found the secrets of the Starres; the Bookes that I haue made of 
 them, doe serue for Presidents to our greatest Doctors, so excel- 
 lent hath my Judgment beene therein. I likewise have found out 
 the secrets of Trees, Plants and Stones, with their seuerall vses; 
 yet all this knowledge of mine I estceme so lightly, that I wish 
 that I were ignorant, and knew nothing: for the knowledge of 
 these things, (as I haue truly found) serueth not to better a man 
 in goodnesse, but onely to make him proud and thinke too well of 
 himselfe. What hath all my knowledge of natures secrets gained 
 
46 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY, $C. 
 
 me? Onely this, the losse of a better knowledge, the losse of 
 diuine Studies, which makes the immortall part of man (his Soule) 
 blessed. I haue found, that my knowledge has beene a heauy 
 burden, and has kept downe my good thoughts: but I will 
 remoue the cause, which are these Bookes: whicii I doe purpose 
 here before you all to burne. They all intreated him to spare the 
 Bookes, because in them there were those things that after-ages 
 might receiue great benefit by. He would not hearken vnto 
 them, but threw them all into the fire, and in that flame burnt the 
 greatest learning in the world. Then did he dispose of all his 
 goods ; some part he gaue to poor Schollers, and some he gaue to 
 other poore folkes : nothing left he for himselfe : then caused he 
 to be made in the Church-wall a Cell, where he locked himselfe 
 in, and there remained till his death. His time hee spent in 
 Prayer, Meditation, and such Diuine Exercises, and did seeke by 
 all means to perswade men from the study of Magicke. Thus 
 liued he some two yeeres space in that Cell, neuer comming 
 forth : his meat and drink he receiued in at a window, and at that 
 window he did discourse with those that came to him ; His 
 graue he digged with his owne nayles, and was laid 
 there when he dyed. Thus was the Life and 
 Death of this famous Fryer, who liued 
 most part of his life a Magician, 
 and dyed a true peni- 
 tent Sinner, and an 
 Anchorite. 
 
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 "Y, ^^41? v *' . ■ 
 
 THE HISTORIE OF FRIER RUSH: 
 
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 Being full of pleasant mirth and delight to young people. 
 
 
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 aSrtttsf) Bibliographer. 
 
 .«-C ;; v : 
 
 BY SIR EGERTON BRYDGES, K. J. 
 
 , AND 
 
 JOSEPH HASLEWOOD. 
 
 N° XV. 
 
 [THE CONCLUDING NUMBER] 
 
 OF THE 
 
 
PIERCE PLOWMAN’S CREDE. 
 
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 PIERCE THE PLOUGHMAN S CREDE. 
 
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 '■ ’~ v ’ •- 
 
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 at London by Reynold Wolfe, Anno Domini M.D.LIII.” and the text of that 
 edition is verbally given in the present one. 
 
 In February 156 1 the Crede was added by Owen Rogers at the end 
 of the Vision of Pierce Plowman, and there is the authority of Herbert, 
 in manuscript, for supposing there was another edition containing “ D. iiij. 
 four sheets, or sixteen leaves. Not said where printed.* 5 
 
 As this popular satire attacked the mendicant friars it might be considered 
 an object with all their four orders, against whom its poignancy was levelled, 
 to destroy the larger portion of the copies ; and, perhaps, it was by secretion 
 alone that the very few now remaining were preserved. The rarity and value 
 of the Crede are shewn by the following notices of Hearne, Rawlinson, and 
 Warton; the first of whom always classed it with his manuscripts. 
 
 Suum cuique. Tho. Hearne, Feb. 22, 1723-4. 
 
 u This Book I purchas’d to day out of Dr. Charlett’s study. It formerly 
 belong’d to the learned Mr. William Fulman. Tho’ I have two other copies 
 of the Vision of Pierce Plowman, of this edition, yet the Crede of 
 Pierce Plowman (upon which I set a great value) is wanting in both. 
 I haue quoted this Crede both in my ed. of Guil. Neubrig. and in my 
 Glossary to Rob. of Glouc. from a copy lent me by Thomas Rawlinson, Esq.” 
 MS. note on the title page of a copy of the Vision of Pierce Plowman, 
 printed by Owen Rogers, 1561, in the Bodleian. 
 
 u A piece ” (says Mr. Rawlinson, speaking of the Crede,) “ rare and 
 good, in which the remains of Monastic Antiquity are graphically describ’d. 
 It charms me on that account when er’e I read it.” 
 
 Hearne. MS. Collections, Vol. lxxxii, page 75, 
 
TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY PRINTED. 
 
 PRICE FIVE SHILLINGS. 
 
 jEtsceilattea &nttqita ^ngltcana; 
 
 ■ - . 
 
 OK, 
 
 A SELECT COLLECTION 
 
 
 OP 
 
 RARE AND CURIOUS TRACTS, 
 
 ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE 
 
 HISTORY, LITERATURE, MANNERS AND BIOGRAPHY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 ENGLISH NATION. 
 
 N° IV. 
 
 ; 
 
 mmm 
 
 ■ 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 THE FAMOUS HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 FRYER BACON. 
 
 . 
 
 
 'NFi 
 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 L INTEL) FOR R. TRIPHOOK, 37, ST. JAMES’S STREET, 
 
 BY T.BEXSLEY, BOLT CVUR1 t'LEET STREET. 
 
 1814. 
 
 The l if th Namier &ill he published on the 1 st of November. 
 
 
 
 TS 
 
 
THE 
 
 ■ 
 
 METAMORPHOSIS OF AJAX; 
 
 A CLOACINEAN SATIRE. 
 
 With the 
 
 ANATOMY AND APOLOGY 
 
 By SIR JOHN HARINGTON. 
 
 TO WHICH IS ADDED 
 
 ULYSSES UPON AJAX. 
 
 This very rare and humourous Cloacinean satire has been reprinted from 
 a copy of the first edition, collated with the subsequent ones, and with 
 additions from the author’s M.S. in one volume post 8vo. at the press of Mr. 
 Whittingham at Chiswick. The impression, consisting of only 100 copies, is 
 embellished with a portrait of the author and a fac-simile of his autograph. 
 
 The Copies intended for sale may be had of Robert Triphook, 
 
 37, St. James’s Street. 
 
 NOVELLE RARISSIME ITALIAN E. 
 
 STAMP ATE A SPESE DI XL. AMATORI. 
 
 Of this Elegant Volume Fifty Copies only were printed, at the expense 
 Forty Subscribers, and but Ten Copies were printed for Sale, Four 
 which only remain with R. TripHook undisposed of. 
 
This day is published, price 11s. 6d. in extra boards, reprinted in black 
 
 letter, with wood-cuts, 
 
 THE BOKE 
 
 OF TH£ 
 
 INTRODUCTION OF KNOWLEDGE; 
 
 The which doth teach a Man to speak part of all maner of Languages, and 
 to know the usage and fashion of al maner of Countreys. And for to 
 knowe the moste part of all maiier of Coynes of Money, the which is 
 curraunt in every region. 
 
 Made by ANDREW BORDE , of Phisicke Doctor 
 
 The rarity of this Tract is such, that Mr. West was induced to believe 
 no other copy existed than the one in his Collection; after his death it 
 passed into the hands of Major Pearson. Since that period, another has 
 been discovered in the Chetham Library at Manchester. From a Copy in the 
 Publisher’s possession the present reprint has been executed, and it is now 
 offered to the lovers of our early literature, as one of the most curious and 
 popular books of the sixteenth century. The impression consists of 120 
 
 A CATALOGUE OF CURIOUS AND RARE BOOKS, 
 
 In ail Languages, now on sale at No. 37, St James’s Street. 
 

 Reprinted at the Chis wick-pr ess, 1814. 
 
 The above interesting English Facetiae is the Book from which Shak- 
 speare’s Beatrice is represented to have stolen all her good wit. Fifty Copies 
 only were printed, of which but a small proportion were intended for sale, the 
 few remaining Copies may be had of R. Triphook. 
 
 In one volume 4to. price jgi. 11$. 6d. 
 
 THE INCONSTANT LADY, 
 
 
 
 A PLAY BY ARTHUR WILSON. 
 
 
 %»; (■>»> fa 
 
 ' 
 
 Printed for R. Triphook, 37, St. James's Street . 
 
 
 Wmm 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 ' • 
 
 
TFFO HUNDRED AND TIFTY PRINTED. 
 
 PRICE EIQHT SHILLINGS. 
 
 #lt^cellanea 3nttqua ( !itgltcana; 
 
 OR, 
 
 A SELECT COLLECTION 
 
 OF 
 
 RE AND CURIO US TRACTS, 
 
 ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE 
 
 HISTORY, LITERATURE, MANNERS AND BIOGRAPHY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 ENGLISH NATION. 
 
 N° VI. * 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 % iHemotr of tl)e Safe anti Beat!) 
 
 OF 
 
 DAVID RICCI O, 
 
 WITH AN 
 
 ENGRAVED PORTRAIT. 
 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR R. TRIPHOOK, 37, ST. JAMES’S STREET, 
 
 BY T. HENSLEY > BOLT COURT y FLEET STREET. 
 
 1815. 
 
 m 
 
 
Ift 4tc. Price .sf.3 3s, 0 d. in extra boards, 
 
 THE ARTE OF ENGLISH POESIE, 
 
 By GEORGE PUTTENHAM. 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY MR. HASLEWOOD. 
 
 This valuable reprint is now continued by another volume, which contains the 
 Essays of Gascoigne, Harvey, Spenser, Webbe, King James, Sir J, 
 Harington, Meres, Campion, Daniel, and Bolton, forming a complete 
 body of works on the Art of ancient English Poetry. (See below.) 
 
 This day, June 15 , is published. 
 
 Printed on fine drawing paper, price 10s. in extra boards, 4to. in a 
 similar manner to Puttenham, to which it forms a second volume, 
 
 THE ARTE OF ENGLISH POESIE, &c. 
 
 Being a Collection of the following rare Essays : 
 
 I. Certavne Notes of Instruction concerning Verse, &c. by George 
 
 Gascoigne, Esq. 1573. 
 
 II. Discourse of English Poetrie, by William Webbe, Gent. 1586. 
 
 III. The Airt of Scottis Poesie, by King James, 1584. 
 
 IV. An Apologie of Poetrie, by Sir J. Harington, 159i. 
 
 V. A Comparative Discourse of our English Poets, by Francis Meres, 1598, 
 
 VI. Observations on the Arte of English Pbesie, by Thomas Campion, 1602. 
 
 VII. Defence of Rime, by Sam. Daniel, 1603. 
 
 VIII. H 3 ’percritica, by Edmund Bolton, circa , 1610-15. 
 
 IX. Op our English Refourmed Versifying, by Gabriel Harvey and Edmund 
 Spenser, 1580. - 
 
 Edited by Mr. HASLEWOOD. 
 
 The above collections have been long considered a desideratum in the 
 poetical class of early English literature. The whole are accurate^ reprinted 
 from the originals, and certainly embody some of the rarest, most useful, 
 and valuable tracts on the subject. 
 
 In order to make the above series uniform, general title pages are given 
 for both volumes. 
 
TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY PRINTED. 
 
 PRICE FIFTEEN SHILLINGS. 
 
 tscellanea &nttqua Stosltcana; 
 
 OK, 
 
 A SELECT COLLECTION 
 
 OF 
 
 RARE AND CURIOUS TRACTS, 
 
 ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE 
 
 V.-.' • 
 
 HISTORY, LITERATURE, MANNERS AND BIOGRAPHY 
 
 > ' OF THE 
 
 ENGLISH NATION. 
 
 ' 
 
 n° v. 
 
 IONTAINING 
 
 8it Account of a ©tiam! 
 
 BETWEEN 
 
 ARTHUR HALL, ESQ. 
 
 AND 
 
 MELCHISEDECH MALLERIE, GENT. 
 
 ■ 
 
 Bra 
 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR R. TRIPHOOK, 37, ST. JAMES'S STREET, 
 BY T. BEXSLEY , BOLT COURT , FLEET STREET. 
 
 1814. 
 
 _ 
 
 The Sixth Number rtill be published on the \st of April 
 
This day is published, price Is. Gd. 
 
 A CATALOGUE OF BOOKS 
 
 IN VARIOUS LANGUAGES ANI) IN EVERY DEPARTMENT 
 
 OF LITERATURE, 
 
 Many of which are. of uncommon occurrence ; 
 
 NOW ON SALE AT ' ij 'i 
 
 ROBERT TRIPHGOK's, 37, St. James's Street. 
 
 
 The following Works, recently published, may be had on application to 
 
 R. Triphook. 
 
 Price «s£T. Is. in extra boards, 
 
 A CAVEAT FOR COMMON CURSETORS, 
 
 VULGARELY CALLED YAGA BONES, 
 
 SET FORTH BY THOMAS HARMAN, ESQUIER, 
 
 For the Utilitie and Profitt of his Naturall Countrey; augmented and inlargedj 
 wliereunto is added the Tale of the second taking of the Counterfeit Crank, 
 with the true Report of his Behaviour, and also his Punishment for his so 
 dissembling, most marvelous to the hearer and reader thereof. Imprinted 
 1573. 
 
 This very curious and extremely rare tract, or rather volume, has been re- 
 printed ( con a more ) at the Press of Mr. Bensley ; and as a specimen of 
 beautiful typography, both in regard to the wood-cuts, and the brilliancy 
 of the different coloured inks, may challenge competition. The impression 
 lias been strictly limited to one hundred copies. An ample account of the 
 work has been given in the British Bibliographer, Vol. ii. pp. 515-22, and 
 Vol. iv. pp. 291*2. See also the Advertisement to this Edition. The size is 
 4to. drawing demy, and the paper is of the most delicate texture. 
 
 In 4 to. Price j£2. 12 s. 6d. in extra boards. 
 
 THE ARTE OF ENGLISH POESIE, 
 
 By GEORGE PUTTENHAM, 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY MR. HASLEWOOD. 
 
 Printed on fine drawing paper (200 copies), 1810; only 22 copies remain- 
 
 ins: unsold. 
 
 This valuable reprint, with those 61 Gascoigne, Harvey, Spenser, W ebbe, 
 King James, Sir J. Harington, Meres, Campion, Daniel, and Bolton, on 
 English Poetry, (now nearly ready for publication, uniform with the above), 
 form a complete body of works on the Art of Poetry in the 16 th and 
 
 17th' centuries. . V 
 
’ .<•'' •■: V-,: . : ; - : - v *' :-...- 
 
 
 24mo. super extra boards, lettered, 
 
 LES BALIVERNERIES D’EUTRAPEL. 
 
 . 
 
 
 - 
 
 The following extract from the Advertisement., will be sufficient to point out, 
 
 not merely tire rarity of the original work, but the exquisite manner in 
 which this reprint of one of the earliest French Facetiae is executed : 
 
 Les Baliverneries d’Eutrapal, petit livret dont nous offirons aux amateurs en 
 litterature enjouee, une reimpression, etoit devenue depuis plus d'un siecle 
 d’une rarete si excessive, que Eon doutoit qifil en eut un seul exemplaire 
 d’echappe aux ravages du terns ; et d6ja il se trouvoit place au rang de ces 
 livres dont il ne nous reste que le seul intitule. Nous pensions dire un mot 
 sur P Execution Typographique, mais il suffit de prononcer le seul nom de 
 ITmprimeur, et Feloge s’en trouve fait. M. Whittingham est trop cbiinir, 
 pour que l’on puisse croire qiEil ait epargne le moindre soin qui put rendre 
 eette reimpression digne de PAmateur le plus delicat.” 
 
 In 4to. Price'll. Is. in extra boards, 
 
 THE PARADISE OF DAINTY DEVICES, 
 
 Reprinted from the first edition, 1576, with the additional pieces from those 
 of 1580, and 1600, and Introductory Remarks, Biographical and Critical, 
 by Sir Egerton Brydges, 1810, 120 printed on fine drawing paper. 
 
 In 4to. Price j^2. 2 s. in extra boards, 
 
 ENGLAND’S HELICON. 
 
 A Collection of Pastoral and Lyric Poems, first published at the close of the 
 reign of Q. Elizabeth, with a Biographical and Critical Introduction, and 
 the Variations and Additions of the. two Edition?, (4to, of 300 pages), 120 
 printed on fine drawing paper, 1812. 
 
 E9B 
 
 On the 1st of January will be published, elegantly printed in small 8vo. 
 
 
 THE LIVES OF CAIUS lSINIUS POLLIO, 
 MARCUS TEliENTIUS VARRO, AND CNEIUS COR- 
 NELIUS GALLUS, 
 
 WITH NOTES ANp ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 Rev. Edward Berwick, Author of the Translation of the Life of 
 Apollonius of Tyana, and the Lives of Marcus Valerius Mcssala Confirms, 
 
 and Titus Pomponius Atticus. 
 
. 
 
 WORKS IN THE PRESS. 
 
 ncmzfVoimie, 4to. printed on fine drawing paper, in a similar 
 Puttenham, to. which it forms a first volume. 
 
 THE ARTE OF ENGLISH POESIE ; 
 
 Illustrated by a Collection of the following rare Essay 
 
 I. Certayne Notes of Instruction concerning Verse, &c. by George 
 
 Gascoigne, Esq. 1575. 
 
 II. Discourse of English Poetrie, by William Webbc, Gent. 1586. 
 
 III. The Airt of Scottis Poesie, by Ki4g James, 1584. 
 
 IV. An Apologie of Poetrie, by Sjr J. Harington, 1591. 
 
 ^ - A Comparative Discourse of om English Poets, by Francis Meres, 1598. 
 
 VI. Observations on the Arte of English Poesie, by Thomas Campion, 160-2. 
 
 V II. Defence of Rime, by Sam. Daniel, 1603. 
 
 VIII. Hypercritica, by Edmund Bolton, circa , 1610-15. 
 
 IX. On our English Refourmed Versifying, by Gabriel Harvey and Edmund 
 Spenser, 1580. ' * 
 
 Edited by JOSEPH HASLEWOOD. 
 
 THE 
 
 DIALOGUES OF CREATURES MORALYSED, 
 
 Applyably and edificatyfly, to every mery and iocounde mater, of late 
 translated out of latja into our Englyshe tonge, right profitable to the 
 gouernaunce ol man, and they be to sell, vpon Powlys churche yarde. 
 
 TVf 
 
 Such is the original title of this singularly rare and curious volume, of which, 
 
 though there have been many Latin editions, only one is known to exist * 
 
 in the English language, and even that, it may be presumed, was printed 
 upon the Continent, by the ab»>ve title referring to the general mart of that 
 age, f°r vending English books It will now be reprinted in quarto, from 
 a new fount of Black Letter, upon drawing paper, and embellished with 
 120 wood-cuts, incidental to the Tables, faithfully copied from the spirited 
 outlines of the Latin edition, prin sd at Goudae, 1480. The genuine text 
 will be faithfully preserved. The lumber of copies will be strictly limited 
 to one hundred. 
 
 . 
 

 
 iHtscellattea anttqua &ngltcatta; 
 
 OR, 
 
 A SELECT COLLECTION 
 
 RARE AND CURIOUS TRACTS, 
 
 ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE 
 
 HISTORY, LITERATURE, MANNERS AND BIOGRAPHY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 ENGLISH NATION* 
 
 
 No. VII. (which completes the Volume}] 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 AN ACCOUNT 
 
 OF 
 
 %\ )t Christmas JDrtnce, 
 
 AS IT WAS EXHIBITED IN 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OE OXFORD, 
 
 IN THE YEAH lG 07 . 
 
 NOW FIRST PUBLISHED FROM THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY T. BENSLEY AND SON, 
 
 Bolt Court, Fleet Street, 
 
 FOR ROBERT TRIPHOOK, 23, OLD BOND STREET, 
 1816 . 
 
 At V 
 
 sw 
 
 — 
 
This Day is published, Price £. 1 Is. 
 
 A HUNDRED MERY TALYS. 
 
 This Volume is reprinted from an unique copy in black letter, by Rastell, 
 and forms a Companion or Second Part of “ The Tales and quicke An- 
 sweres, very mery, and pleasant to rede/' printed in 1814 at the Chiswick 
 Press, under the title of “ Shakespeare’s Jest Book." 
 
 It may be proper to observe, that the whole of the Tales are entirely different 
 from those in the former volume. The number of copies for sale does not 
 exceed fii^ty. - - 
 
 FIDESSA. 
 
 ■ 
 
 SONNETS BY B. GRIFFIN, 1596; 
 
 wm 
 
 With a Preface by P. Bliss, Esq. Fellow of St. John’s College, Oxford. 
 
 ;yj. 
 
 This volume js also reprinted at the Chiswick Press, in the same beautiful 
 manner as the Metamorphosis of Ajax, the Tales and Quicke Answeres, and 
 the C. Mery Talys. 
 
 One hundred are printed, which, with the claims of the Universities, and the 
 Editor’s copies, reduce the number for sale to eighty. 
 
 Price 12s. in extra Trench Boards. 
 
 This Day is published, Price £. 4 4s. in extra . Boards. 
 
 THE DIALOG ES OF CREATURES MORA LYSED, 
 
 Apply ably and edificatyfly , to every mery and iocounde mater , of late translated 
 out of latyn into our Englysshe tonge, right profitable to the gouernaunce of 
 Man, and they be to sell, vpon'Pozclys. churche yarde. 
 
 Such is the original title of this singularly rare and curious volume, of which, 
 though there have been many Latin editions, only one is known to exist in 
 the English language, and even that, it may be presumed, was printed upon 
 the Continent, by the above title referring to the general mart of that age, 
 for vending English books. It is reprinted in quarto, from a new font of 
 black letter, upon drawing paper, and embellished with 120 wood-cuts, 
 incidental to each fable, faithfully copied from th#spirited outlines of the 
 Latin edition, printed at Goude in 14S0. The genuine text is faithfully 
 preserved. The number of Copies are ninety-eight. 
 
In the Press , 
 
 LYRICAL GLEANINGS; 
 
 COMPRISING 
 
 MADRIGALS, ODES, SONGS, AND SONNETS, 
 
 CHIEFLY BY ANONYMOUS WRITERS OF THE SIXTEENTH AND FART OF 
 THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURIES*, 
 
 WITH 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES, 
 
 BY THE EDITORS, 
 
 - 
 
 The Gleanings will form one Volume, which will he printed at the Chiswick 
 Press, in the most elegant manner, on fine writing paper, in post octavo, 
 and only 250 copies will be taken off'. 
 
 The Materials are drawn from those numerous, elegant, and as yet unex- 
 plored Collections of Vocal Poetry, made and composed by Bird, Mor- 
 ley, Yonge, Ward, Gibbons, Lawes, and other Musicians of emi- 
 nence in the reigns of Elizabeth, James, and Charles; among them 
 will be found specimens of eminent beauty, highly deserving rescue from 
 the oblivion to which they have been hitherto consigned. It is therefore 
 presumed, that this Volume will prove highly acceptable to the tasteful 
 lover of our Early Poetry, and at the same time form a valuable Supple- 
 ment to the elegant Miscellanies of Percy, Aikin, Ritson, Headley, 
 and Ellis. 
 
 From the limited impression, it will be desirable that those Gentlemen who 
 may wish to possess the Work, should communicate their Names to Mr. 
 Trtphook, No. 23, Old Bond Street, without delay, as the number of 
 Copies will on no account be extended 
 
 ■ : 
 
 Price <P. 1 : Is, in extra Boards , f 
 
 A CAVEAT FOR COMMON CURSETORS, 
 
 VULGARLY CALLED VAGABONDS', 
 
 :t forth by Thomas Harman, Esquicr, for the Utilitic and Profitt of his 
 Naturall Countrey, augmented and inlarged ; whereunto his added the Tale 
 of the second taking of the Counterfeit Crank, with the true Report of his 
 laviour, and also his Punishment for his so dissembling, most marvel- 
 ous to the hearer and reader thereof. Imprinted 1573. 
 us very curious and pxtreraely rare tract, or rather volume, has been reprinted 
 'con amove) at the Press of Mr. Bensley ; and as a specimen of beautiful 
 typography, both in regard to the wood-cuts, and the brilliancy of' the dif- 
 ferent coloured inks, may challenge competition. T he impression lias been 
 strictly limited to one hundred copies. An ample account of the work has 
 been given in the British Bibliographer. Vol. 11, pp. 515-22, and Vol. IV. 
 pp. 291-2. See also the Advertisement to this edition. The size is 4to. 
 drawing demy, and the paper is of the most delicate texture. 
 

 ' This Day is published , 
 
 Price ^4 4s. in extra boards, embellished with 
 
 NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS, 
 
 RESEARCHES INTO THE HISTORY OF PLAYING CARDS. 
 
 with - ■ 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE ORIGIN OF PRINTING 
 AND ENGRAVING ON WOOD, ■ ' \ * 
 
 By S. TV. SINGER. 
 
 Printed for R. Triphook, 23, Old Bond Street; and sold by Messrs. Long- 
 man and Co. Paternoster Row; Messrs. ArCii, CornhiU; and 
 Mr. Major, St. Bartholomew’s Gate, West Smithfield. 
 
 In One Volume 4to. Price <£.3 3s. in extra Boards, 
 Printed on fine drawing paper, in a similar manner to Puttenharo, 
 
 to which it forms a second volume, 
 
 THE ARTE OF ENGLISH POESIE, &c. 
 
 Illustrated by a Collection of the following rare E 
 
 ssays 
 
 !• Certayne Notes of Instruction concerning Verse, 8cc. by George 
 Gascoigne, Esq. 1575 
 
 II. Discourse of English Poetrie, by William Webbe, Gent. 1586. 
 III. The Airt.of Scottis Poesic, bv King James, 1584. 
 
 I wm wmm 
 
 IV. An Apologie of Poetrie, by Sir J. Harington, 1591. 
 
 V. A Comparative Discourse of our English Poets, by Francis Meres, 1598?. 
 
 VI. Observations in the Arte of English Poesie, by Thomas Campion. 1602. 
 
 VII. Defence of Rime, by Sam. Daniel, 1603. 
 
 VIII. Hypercritica, by Edmund Bolton, circa, 1610-L5. 
 
 IX. On our English Refourmed Versifying, by Gabriel Harvey and Edmond 
 Spenser, 1580. 
 
 Edited by Mr. HASLEWOOD. 
 
 I he above collections have been long considered a desideratum in the 
 poetical class of early English literature. The whole are accurately reprinted 
 irom the originals, and certainly embody some of the rarest, most useful, 
 and valuable tracts on the subject. 
 
 Printed tor Robert Triphook, 23, Old Bond Street^ Messrs. Arch, 
 
 Comhill; Mr. Major, Bartbolomew-Gate, Smithfield ; and Messrs. Gale 
 and Fenner, Paternoster Row. 
 
 May 1 , 1816. 23 Old Bond Street 
 
 The present Number completes the First Volume of the Miscellanea 
 Antiqua Anglicana: it is intended to be continued on the same Plan, ‘as 
 
 Tracts or MSS of sufficient Interest can be procured. A few Copies of the 
 Volume complete may be had, Price £. 2 12s. 6d. in Boards. 
 
 T.Benjlev and Son, 
 
 Eo'.i Court, Fleet Street, Londonw 
 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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