A merrie Iest, of a Blind man and a Cripple.

THere were two Beggers (I meane not of the Court, but meaner creatures of the Citie) that had no meanes to kéepe life and limbes together, but by the cha­ritable almes of exorable people, the one being youthfull and blind, the other very aged and lame, (and such persons are seldome admitted into the great chamber much lesse into the Kings presence.) This blindman alwaies when he went abroad, carried the cripple on his shoulders to direct him, so likewise the cripple opprest with his infirmities, could not trauell without supportance. Now it was the lame mans lucke one day about one of the clock after dinner, being borne by his blind fellow through Fléetstréete, to cast his eye on a great Oyster, which lay on the ground néere the Miter doore. where some Oyster seller sitting (as their custome is) belike had let it fall from her basket: and therupon he directed his fellow porter to stoope and take it vp, which done they fell into controuersie about it, the one saying he deserued it best, because hee saw it and [Page] guided the others hand to it; the other answered, y ^t he had most right to it, because he brought him thither & tooke the paines to take it vp: and while they were thus wrangling, a poore Lawyer comming out of Ram alley with his seacole beard embrodered with grease like the snowt of a Mastiue, new lifted out of the porredge pot, and vnderstanding the cause of their falling out; my honest friends (quoth my Lawyer) pray let me sée your Oyster, and you shall sée me quickly end this variance, the blind man deliuered the shelfish vnto the Lawyer, who hauing fingred it, forthwith drew forth his rusty whittle, laid the Seabred animal vpon his knée, and diuiding his house into two parts, gaue the one to the blind, the other to the lame, and deuoured the inhabitant himselfe: the old cripple séeing that, cried out, now the Deuill goe with it, and the Lawyer remoued himselfe into the Tauerne from his eye and clamors. Wherupon the blind lame bearer being aduertised of the iest, wisht it might poyson or choake him. and so departed,

A tale of a Scriuener of London and a Countreyman.

IT fell out vpon a Satterday, being market day, that a Country fellow, of the better sort of husbandry, came to London, to lay out a little money vpon some necessarie trin­kets: and hauing dispatched his busines, after he had pretely refreshed his spirits with a pot of the best that the Ale­house could afford him, made homewards very merily; but by the way, casting his eye, by chance, vpon a kind of wri­ter, that would haue kept a Scriueners shop, and séeing the master of the poore house, or the poore master of the house, sitting alone in a rugge gowne, wrapping in his armes, to auoyd the bitternesse of the weather, minding to make him­selfe a little sport, fell thus to salute the poore Pen-man: I pray you master, what might you sell in your shop, that you haue so many ding-dongs hang at your doore? Why, my [Page] friend, quoth the Obligation-maker, I sel nothing but Log­ger-heads. By my fay, master, quoth the Country man, you haue made a faire market with them, for you haue left but one in your shop, that I sée: and so laughing, went his way, leauing much good sport to them that heard him.

A pretty Tale of a poore man and a Lawyer.

A Poore man hauing béene much iniured by an vnkind neighbour, who by the power of his purse would haue put him by the right of his land, went to a Lawyer dwelling not farre off, to whom hauing deliuered his griefe, hee gaue litte for his Counsell, but a great many thankes, and country curtesies, with God saue his life, and so forth: intreating him to let him know, when hee should againe wait vpon him for his further aduise. Who answered him somewhat short, When you will neighbour, when you will. The poore man, vpon this when you wil, came often­times afterward to him, but found no will in him to speake with him, Whereupon the poore man telling his wife of his ill hap, was aduised by her to take one of his best lambes, and present it vnto him, and then hée should sée what would follow: her counsell he followed, tooke his lambe, and went to the Lawyer: to whose gate hee was no sooner come, but the Lawyer hearing the bleating of the lambe, opening his window, called him vp, and within two words told him hee vnderstood his case, and all should be well: wherwith he de­parted, méeting with his wife going to the market. After they had béene at the Alehouse, and taken a pot or two, the poore man got him vp into the market place: and there ha­uing his throat well cleared made this mad out-crie: All ye that haue any matters to trie in law, get yee euery one a fat lambe, and cary to your Lawyer: for one word of a lambes mouth will be better vnderstood of the Lawyer, and doe more good, then twenty of your owne. Probatum.

Of a Citizen of London, that [...]id out of the [...] fiue miles.

A Citizen riding to Edmonton, had his man following him on foot, who came so neare, that the horse slrake him a great blow on the thigh. The fellow thinking to be reuenged, tooke vp a great stone to throw at the horse, and hit his master on the raynes of the backe. Within a while his master looked backe, and séeing his man come halting so farre behind, chid him. Sir, your horse hath giuen me such a blow, quoth his man on the thigh, that I can goe no faster. Truely said his master, the horse is a great kic­ker, for likewise with his héele right now, he gaue me a great stroke on the raynes of my backe: when it was his man that threw the stone.

A pretie tale of a Complaynant, that cryed to a Iudge for iustice, yet refused it when it was offered him.

ONe Dromo a certaine Tiler, sitting vpon the ridge of a house, laying on certaine roofe tiles, looking back, and reaching somewhat too farre for a little morter, that lay by him, fell backward, and by good hap fell vpon a man, that was sitting vnder the house, whome with his fall he brused to death, but thereby saued his owne life. Not many dayes after, a sonne of the dead mans, caused this man to bee ap­prehended for murther, and hauing him before the Iudge, cried vnto him for Iustice: who asking of the prisoner, what he could say for himselfe, receiued this answere, Truely Sir, I neuer thought the man any hurt, neither did I thinke to fall: but since it was my hap to hit vpon him to saue my life, if it please your Lordship, I am contented that hee shall haue Iustice: for my selfe, I had no malice to his father, though I sée hee hath a great deale to me: let him doe his worst, I care not, I aske no fauour: let him goe vp to the top of the house, where I sate, and I will sit where his Fa­ther sate, let him fall from the place as cunningly as hee can, [Page] and fall vpon mee to saue his life, I will bee contented. The Iudge séeing the mans Innocency, in intent of any euill to the man, whome hee had slaine, willed the Complaynant to take this course for his contentment: which hee refusing, was dismissed the Court, and the Prisoner thus by his witte released.

How a Merchant lost his purse betweene Waltam and London.

A Marchant that trauelled betwéene Ware and Lon­don, lost his budget, wherein was a hundred pound, who caused to proclaime in all villages and market townes, that who so had found the same, and would restore it againe, should haue twenty pounds for his paines. An honest hus­bandman that chanced to find it, brought it to the Baylife of Ware, and required his twenty pounds for his paines, when he deliuered it. When the couetous Marchant vnderstood this, and that he must néedes pay twenty pound for the find­ing of it, hee said, there was an hundred and twenty pound in the Budget, and so would haue had his owne money, and twenty pound ouer. So long they stroue, that the matter was brought before a Iustice. When the Iustice vnderstood by the Baylife, that the crie was made for a Budget with an hundred pound in it, he demaunded where it was? Héere (quoth the Baylife) and gaue it him. Is it iust an hundred pound (quoth the Iustice?) Yes (quoth the Baylife.) Hold (quoth the Iustice) to him that found the budget, take thou this money to thy vse, and if thou happen to finde a budget with a hundred and twenty pound, bring it to this honest Marchant man. It is mine, I lost no more but a hundreth pound (quoth y ^e Marchant.) You speake now too late (quoth the Iustice) for your couetousnesse hath beguiled your selfe.

A Iest, sauing your reuerence, worth the laughing at.

IN a Citie, I find not where, met a company, I know not who, and about I know not what, but after that they [Page] had laid their heades together, to conclude vpon a thing of nothing, as the vse is of such kind of people, fearing to surfet of fasting, they got them to dinner, where, when their bellies were full of Wine, their braines set their tongues to worke about wonders: and hauing made a great noise to little purpose, they fell to questioning among themselues, what was the rarest thing in the world. One, hee said the Phe­nix, because there was but one, and she killed herselfe, and liued againe of her owne ashes. Another saide, A Diamond, because it would write in glasse. Another said, A Parrat, be­cause it would speake like a man. Another said▪ A true friend, the world was so ful of falshood. Another said, Gold, for that it wrought wonders in the world. And another said, Loue, because it robbed wise men of their wits. But while they did thus differ in their opinions, one plaine Asse-headed foole, being willing to say his mind, vpon a sudden falling into a laughing, told them they were all wide: for he knew a rarer thing then al they: which they desiring to know, he told them it was a swéetarse hole. Whereat euery one holding them­selues by the nose, left off their talke, and laughing at the foole, rose from the table.

A Parson being summoned to appeare personally at London to answere vnto diuers faults by him Com­mitted.

A Parson of Bedfordshyre being summond to appeare personally in the Spiritual Court at London, because contrary to the exhortation of Saint Paule, he had commit­ted fornication, or in plaine English had gotten a wench with child: for fornication is deriued of the Latine word Fornicatio, and Latine he was little acquainted with: as many are of his function in Country Villages, where the Shepheard must pipe a plaine song, or the Sheepish flocke can neuer dance to it, being better Lanists then Latinists. This illiterate parson being Cited (I say) to shew his proper person in this courte of Carnalitie obeyd the officers Cita­tion, [Page] and considering with himselfe that he should vse and ex­pend good store of money in bribes, I would say, necessarie fées: when this day of doome drew néere, he tooke the summe of twenty pound of lawfull English money (as the Scriue­ners phrase is) out of his yron-garded chest, and causd it to be sowd vp in a Gooses belly in stead of her intrails, of which with her head wings and feathers shee was lately depriued, and so sent it sow'd fast in an old Napkin full of holes to the Carrier, that he séeing the coate might not suspect the lining, and gaue his man this lesson also, that hee should giue the Carrier, great charge of it, and enforme him that it was on­ly a Goose with the appurtenance, hoping by that fabulous information, to be merry with his Goose at London, paying only for the Carriage of that Goose, and so receiue his twen­ty pound scot-frée. Now, his man went and carried the Goose to the carrier with spéech agréeable to his masters di­rection, the Carrier tooke it, and perceiuing by the ponde­rousnesse or strang weight, that there was more then a bare Goose in the cloth; concealed his suspition, promising that it should be safely conueied. And thereupon the seruant retur­ned to his master. To be short the Parson with his man within a few daies after being come to London, hee sent his man to fetch this counterfeit commoditie, his man went and demanded it of the Carrier offering a groat for the carriage. The Carrier holding it a presumptuous part to rip open the cloth and take a large view of the contents, told the fellow, that one of the Kings Takers met him on the way, and tooke it away with many other things of other mens. The Par­sons messenger being loaden with this coynd answere ranne backe and made his master a partaker of it, his master be­ing almost astonied at so cold and vnexpected a message, yet stird vp with furious wrath, and feare of such a losse, started from his chaire where he sate, meditating vpon his trans­gression, and throwing his cloake nastely vpon his shoulders (the wrong side outward) ran out of doores like an Oxe that had broke loose from the Axe of the Butcher, and neuer dis­continued his course till he came to the Inne where encoun­tring [Page] the Carrier hee demaunded his goose, offering a groat for the carriage, alas Sir (quoth the Carrier) the goose (sa­uing your worship) was as I told your man, taken from mee by the Kings taker. By the Kings taker? (quoth the Parson) the Kings taker & thou his partaker I beléeue, haue done more then is answerable, there was twenty pounds of good new coyned siluer, in the birds belly, and though hée seasd on the one, he had no commission to meddle with the o­ther; tis plaine robbery to take money from a man by the Kings highway, runne fellow (quoth hee to his man) fetch me the Cunstable; Ile indite the taker, and haue the Carri­er before a Iustice in the meane time, to be forth comming a­gainst him. The Carrier hearing his threats and thun­dring words, stept into his warehouse and bringing forth the Goose (quoth he) to the passionate Parson. Sir, behold here is your Goose which I thus long detein'd, that you might not make me your Goose, and now bee it knowne vnto your worship, that I must and will haue a groat in the pound for the carriage of your money, with a groat for the Goose, and then you may take it to your selfe. So to end this diffe­rence, the Parson glad and mad to heare and sée this e­uent, glad that his money was so néere his fingring, and mad that the Carrier had so deceiued and ouer-reached his intent, neuerthelesse séeing he had no meanes to saue a little money without the losse of much more; with a resolute heigh-ho he told out seuen shillings to the Carrier, and vpon payment thereof receiuing the Goose he cut it vp, as the Hangman did Hacket, iust in the belly, & drawing forth the siluer garbage, he fell with his man to numeration, vowing that if he found a round cros [...]e imbeslled, the Carrier should answere his knauery déerely, but the Dice running euen, he put vp the mony into his flesh bagge againe, and left the Carrier with many others laughing at his hard fortune.

Of one excusing a backe-wind.

A Sturdy Sayler being in cheapside amongst the throng of people, when the Lord Mayor &c. came from West­minster, [Page] was thrust and crowded so hard, that with ouer­labouring to get out into an easier place, hee let out a great Fart. A poore Cittizen standing néere reprooued him for it, to which he repli'd, fore god honest man my arse hath had a great desire of late to speake, he wants nothing but thy tongue.

How cunningly a knaue deuised to get money by his wit, for himselfe and his three companions.

THrée loytring companions that fell in company toge­ther, dominéerd so long, that all their money was con­sumed and gone. So being penilesse, said one of them, By my faith, wee are now in a faire taking: for we may, if wee will, séeke our dinner with Duke Humphrey. Nay, Zounds (quoth the second) If I come where any presse of people he, I can get money enough for vs all. Sblood, and I (quoth the third) can lightly assemble people. They were at that time not passing two miles from a small towne in Barkshire, where, when they came, there was a new Pillo­ry set vp, where the third of them steps to the Baylife, and desires him to haue the Maiden-head of their new Pillory. The Baylife being a Butcher, was halfe amazed, and stan­ding musing▪ at last he asked counsell of his neighbours, and they bad him set vp the knaue and spare not. So vp he went, and when hee was vp, hee looked about, and saw his two fel­lowes busie in the holes of the Butchers aprons, where they put all their money. To it, to it (quoth he) apace. The peo­ple laughed hartely to sée him stand there. At last, when hee saw that his fellowes had sped their matters, and were go­ing away, he said to the Baylife, Turne the Pillory about, and now I will come downe. So laughing hartely did. And when he was come dowe, the Baylife said, Now by my faith thou art a good fellow, and because thou hast made vs some sport, I will giue thée a Tester to drinke: and so think­ing to take some money out of the hole of his apron, he found there neuer a penny. Cocks armes (quoth the Baylife) my money is picked out of my apron: and then the rest of the [Page] Butchers beside swore they had lost theirs also. I hope (quoth the fellow) you do not thinke that I haue it. No, by my troth (quoth the Baylife) I know wel enough thou hast it not: for thou wert on the pillory all the while▪ Why, then no harme, no force (quoth the fellow) and so went his wayes.

How one at Kingstone fained himselfe dead, to trie what his wife would doe.

IN Kingstone dwelt one Rawlins, newly married, which to prooue what his wife would doe, fained himselfe dead, while she was in the back-side, washing of her clothes, and laid himselfe all along the flowre. Wherupon his wife com­ming sodainely in, thought that he had béen dead indéed: but hauing laboured hard all the day, and being sore an hungred, she stood musing with herselfe, wether it were best to la­ment his death, or to dine first: which motion of eating li­ked her best: wherupon she cut two or thrée collops of salt Ba­con, and broyled them on the coales, and eate them vp: and being very hungry she forgot to drinke, but the saltnes of the meat at last made her throat so harsh, that she tooke a pot and went to draw some drinke: but one of her neighbors comming suddenly in, made her set downe her pot, and as if her husband had but new falne downe, she began to lament so heauily, & with such a noise, that al the neighbors came run­ning in, where they found her most pitifully bewailing the sudden death of her husband. Whereupon they beganne to comfort her, and told her she must be content, for there was now no remedy. Alas said she, Oh my swéet husband what shall I doe? At which words, her husband lift vp his head, and saide, Full ill, my swéet wife, except you goe quickly and drinke: for the salt bacon I am sure hath almost choked you.

A knauish answere of an vnhappy country wench to a foolish young fellow.

A Certaine Idle headed young man, that loued to heare himselfe speake, though it were of matter to little pur­pose, [Page] riding vpon a faire day to a market towne, ouer tooke by chance, among other creatures of her owne kind, an in­different well fauoured and well growne country wench, whom singling by her selfe as much as hee could, hee fell to commune with, in an odde maner of loue making, when be­ginning very low, marking her new shod féete, hanging ouer her dossers, beganne with this commendation: Truely sis­ter, you haue a very fine foote there. Yea sir (quoth the wench) that I haue a couple. The yong man thinking to shew some little wit, in a scoffe replied with this speach. But are they twinnes, sister? were they both borne at one time? No indéed sir (quoth the wench) there hath béen a man borne betwixt them. Wherewith her neighbours that rod by her, falling into a laughing, made him find, that she was a mar­ried wife: which being contrary to his expectation, being much troubled with her answere, with lack of wit to reply, galloped away with a flea in his eare.

A flowting answere to a flowting question.

A Poore man, vpon a time comming into a market with a very leane horse, setting him néere vnto a company of fat and faire Geldings to bee sold, was asked of a scoffing companion, how he sold his horse by the ell? Which the poore man taking something discontentedly and yet not willing to quarrell with him, made him an answere fit for his question: when holding vp his horses taile, I pray you sir (quoth he?) come into the shop, and you shall sée.

A warning for tale-tellers.

I Reed in the records of a certaine schoole, where faults were reckoned vp all the wéeke, to be paid vpon the Sat­terday, that an vnhappy boy, willing to haue one of his fel­lowes tast of such schoole-butter, as hee had often broke his fast with, one morning came to his master with this speach. Truely sir you haue often beaten me for looking off from my [Page] booke, and such a one scapeth without rebuke. Yea (quoth hee) call him to me. Who no sooner came to him, but heard him his lesson. Which perfectly repeated, how now Sirra (quoth hee) to his accuser? how like you this geare? How did he looke from his booke, and say his lesson so well? Let me heare you: who was imperfect in many points. Well Sir (quoth hee) how do you know that your fellow did not looke vpon his booke? Marry Sir (quoth he) I did watch him all the while. Then Sir (quoth his fellow) I beséech you aske him, who looked on his booke while he watched me. Where­at his master smiling, tooke the accuser, and openly in the Schoole whipped him well, first for his lesson, and after for his accusation.

Of a worshipfull Gentleman in Lincolneshire, and his man,

A Certaine Gentleman in Lincolneshire, being also a Iustice of Peace, had an old seruant many yeres, cal­led, Adam Milford, who vpon a time came vnto his Master and desired him, in regard hee had béene his seruant so many yéeres, he would now giue him something to helpe him in his old age. Thou saist true (quoth his Master) and I will tell thée what I will doe: Now shortly I am to ride vp to London, if thou wilt pay my cost and charges by the way, I will giue thée shortly such a thing, as shall be worth to thée an hundred pound. I am content (quoth Adam) and so paid for al the reckoning by the way. So being come to London, he put his Master in minde of his former promise that he had made to him. What, did I promise thée any thing? I (quoth Adam) that you did: for you said, you would giue me y ^t that should be worth to mee a hundred pound, for paying your charges to London. Let me sée your writing (quoth his Master.) I haue none (quoth Adam.) Then thou art like to haue nothing (quoth his Master:) And learne this of mee, That when thou makest a bargaine with any man, looke thou take a writing, and beware how thou makest a wri­ting [Page] to any man. This hath auailed me an hundred pounds in my daies. When Adam saw there was no remedy, hee was content: but when they should depart, Adam stayed be­hind his master, to recken with his Hostis; and on his Ma­sters Scarlet cloake borrowed so much money, as came to all their charges, that he had laid out by the way. His Ma­ster had not ridden past two myles, but it beganne to raine apace: wherefore he called for his cloake. His other men made answere, that Adam was behind, and had it with him. So they shrowded them vnder a trée, till Adam came. When he came, his master said al angerly, thou knaue, come giue me my cloake: hast thou not serued me wel, to let me be thus wet? Truly sir (quoth Adam) I haue laid it to pawne for al your charges by the way. Why knaue, quoth he didst thou not promise to beare my charges to London? Did I quoth A­dam? I, quoth his Master, that thou didst. Let's sée, shew me your writing of it, quoth Adam. Whereupon his Master perceiuing hee was ouer reacht by his man, was faine to send for his cloake againe, and pay the money.

How mad Coomes, when his wife was drowned: sought her against the streame.

COomes of Stapforth, hearing that his wife was drow­ned, comming from Market, went with certaine of his friends to sée if they could find her in the riuer: hee contrary to all the rest, sought his wife against the streame: which they perceiuing, said, He lookt the wrong way. And why so (quoth he?) Because (quoth they) you should looke downe the streame, and not against it. Nay Zounds (quoth hee) I shall neuer find her that way: for shee did all things so con­trary in her life time, that now shee is dead, I am sure shee will goe against the streame.

Of the Farmer in Norfolke, and his Phisicion.

A Certaine rich Farmer hauing laine long sicke in Nor­folke, at last sent for a Phisicion from the next Market [Page] towne: who when he came, he felt his pulses, and viewed his water, and then told them, that hee could by no meanes nor Phisicke escape, the disease had so much power in his body, and so went his way. Within a while after by Gods good helpe, who is the onely giuer of all health, the man esca­ped, and was well againe, and walking abroad, being still ve­ry weake and féeble, hee met with his Phisicion, who being very sore affraid to sée him, asked him, if hee were not such a Farmer? Yes truely (quoth he) I am. Art thou aliue or dead (quoth he?) Dead (quoth he) I am: and because I have ex­perience of many things, God hath sent me to take vp all Phisicions I can get: which made the Phisicion to looke as pale as ashes, for feare. Nay, feare not (quoth the Farmer) though I named all Phisicions, yet I meant thée for none: for I am sure, a verier Dunce liues not this day, then thou art: and then I should be a foole to take thée for one, that art not fit to come to any man, but to the dogges with thy phi­sicke: and so he left him: but the Phisicion neuer left qua­king till he was out of the sight of him.

How merry Andrew of Manchester serued an vsurer.

MErry Andrew of Manchester, who is well knowne, méeting with thrée or foure of his companions on a Sunday, presently he bade them home to dinner, yet he nei­ther had meate nor mony in his house. Well, but to his shifts he goeth, and went into an old Vsurers kitchin, where he was very familier, & priuily vnder his gowne, he brought away the pot of meate, that was sodden for the old misers dinner. When he came home, hee put out the meate, and made his boy scoure the pot, and sent him with it to the V­surer, to borrow two groats on it, and bade the boy take a bill of his hand: which the boy did, and with the money bought béere and bread for their dinner. When the Vsurer should goe to dinner, his meate was gone: wherefore hee all to beate his maide, calling her whoore. She said, there came no body but Andrew there all that day. Then they ashed [Page] him. And he said he had done. But at last they said, that he and no body else had the pot. By my faith (quoth Andrew) I borrowed such a pot on a time, but I sent it home againe: and so called his witnesse, and said, it is perilous to deale with men now a daies without writing: they would lay theft to my charge, if I had not his owne hand to shew: and so hée shewed the Vsurers bill: whereat the Vsurer storm'd, and all the rest fell a laughing.

How he seru'd another, that would haue put him down in his merry sayings.

ANdrew once was at Supper with his friends, and a­mong the Company there was one that spited at his iests and merry conceits. After supper they fell to reasoning among themselues, which was the most reuerent part of mans body. One said, the eye: another, the nose: a third said, the leg: but Andrew knowing that he that spited him, would name the contrary, said, the mouth was most reuerent of all. Nay (quoth the other) the part that we fit on is the most reuerent: and because they all meruailed why hée should say so, hee made this reason: That hee was most honourable, that was first set, and the part that hee named, was first set. Which saying contented them all, and grieued Andrew. The next day they all met againe, and Andrew comming last, found them sitting altogether. And when he had saluted them all, but his enemy, he turned his backe-side to him, and let a great fart in his face. At which the fellow being mighty angry, said, walke knaue, with a mischiefe, where hast thou béene brought vp? Why disdainest thou, quoth Andrew? if I had saluted thée with my mouth, thou wouldest haue saluted me againe: and now when I salute thée with that part, that by thy owne saying, is most honou­rable, thou callest me knaue. Then the company fell a laugh­ing at this iest hartely.

The tale of the Blacke Moore.

IN the yere when fresh wits began to season themselues to abide weathers, it fell out, it is no matter where, that a certaine young fellow, next neighbour to a foole, hauing more money in his purse, then he knew well how to vse, and yet willing to aduenture a little, to gaine more, light into the ac­quaintance of a noble crafty companion, who finding his humour, was not to learne how to fit it: and nothing his foo­lish kind of fléering, when hee came among the Feminine gender, and how farre he would be in loue with maid Mari­an, vpon the first measure of a Morris daunce, came one day to him very closely, and getting him to beare him company alone into the fields▪ there very soberly, in the way of much affection, (as hee séemed to make shew of) told him, that it grieued him to sée so propper a man spend his time so, with­out a companion fit for his person, meaning a wife: which, if an Owle would not serue his turne, it had béene pitty any better creature should haue béene bestowed vpon him. Yet forsooth, in great secret he told him, and looked about, as though some body had heard him that if he would bee ruled by him, he would helpe him to such a wife, as all the world should not find a better for his purpose. For she should bee faire, and welthy, and wise, and what more, I know not: but she should be such a one, as he should haue cause to giue him thankes for. The young gréene Goose some what shamefast, and yet foolish enough to harken to an idle tale, answered him, that though he was not determined to marry, yet if hee liked her, and she him, he did not know what would come to passe: but hee would bestow a quart of Wine to haue a sight of her. Not to make a long tale of a little or nothing, without many hummes or haes it was agréed betwixt them that a day should be set downe when the méeting should bee. The place was appointed, the parties were acquainted, the plot was laid, and the matter performed. But while the goose was gaping for one bait, he was catcht with another. For [Page] the cunning rascall, intending to make himselfe merry with his money, told him he must be finely apparrelled, and be­stow a Supper or two, in shew of a braue mind: but when he had her once, then let him doe as he list. The foole alrea­dy in a net, began to tangle himselfe brauely, made himselfe new apparell according to the fashion, gaue money to be­stow vpon a Supper or two: where met him a fine boy drest woman like, to whom he made such loue, that a dog would not abide to heare it. The counterfeit young Mistris, with kind words, and knauish wiles, finding the length of his foot, gat many tokens of his loue; as Gloues, Skarfes, and such like, besides a Ring or two, and a bracelet: all which he did bestow, solouingly that he must néedes be vsed like himselfe, and so he was: for nothing was refused that came so gently to passe. But after many kind méetings, in the end it was agréed betwixt them, that in a friends house of his, the mat­ter should be made vp: which being little better then a baw­dy house, it serued the turne as well as could be. There they met, and being both agréed, vpon assurance of each other loue to bed they should goe that night, and bee married shortly af­ter, well, that night there lacked no good chéere, nor Wine to make the heart merry: which being taken in full cups, wrought the matter as they would haue it: for after they had well supped, and sate a while by a good fire, the good Asse fell a sléepe: in which being laid in his bed, in stead of the faire boy, they had laid a blacke Moore wench by him, with whom I know not how he handled the matter: but in the mor­ning, séeing what a swéet bed-fellow he had gotten, sudden­ly starting out of the bed, ran to his clothes, and taking them in his hand, ran out into another chamber, crying that hee was vndone, for he had laine with the vgliest thing that euer was, and he feared it was the deuill. In which feare blessing himselfe, as from sprites, running out of the house, with the expence of his money, almost losse of his wittes and laught at of all that knew him, like a good woodcocke, fled away so farre, that I neuer heard more what became of him.

Of a Doctor and his man.

A Doctor that was newly commen'ct at Cambridge, char­ged his seruant that he had, not to say any thing, but that he should aske of him. Within a while after, hee inui­ted diuers of his friends to dinner, and sent his man to desire another Doctor to come and dine with him. The fellow went, and the Doctor told him that he could not come: for he had great businesse to dispatch that day. So home he comes, and saies nothing. When the guests were all come, they staid from going to dinner, til the other Doctor came. When they had staid till two of the clocke, hee asked his man, if hee had bidden him come to dinner? Yes (quoth his man) that I did. And why doth he not then come? Marry, he said, that he had other businesse, and hee could not come. Why didst thou not tell me this before (quoth his Master) Why Sir (quoth he) because you did not aske me.

Of one that beleeued his wife better then others.

A Man, whose wife was no better then she should be nor so neither, his friends counselled him to looke better vn­to her. The man went home, and sharpely rebuked his wife, and told her what his friends said of her. She knowing that periury was no worse then adultery, with wéeping and swearing denyed the same, and told her husband that they deuised those tales in enuy, because they saw them liue so quietly. With these words her husband was content and well pleased. Yet another of his friends was at him againe: and said that he old not well, to let her haue her liberty so much. To whom he answered, I pray you tell me whether knoweth my wiues faults best, she or you? They said shee. And she that I beléeue better then you all, saith you lye all like knaues.

The Harfordshire mans answere to the Abbot of Lon­don.

THe Abbot riding in Visitation, came to a place where they had newly builded their stéeple, and put out their Belles to bee new cast. The Abbot comming néere the townes end▪ and bearing no Belles to Ring, in a chase saide to one of the townsmen, haue you no Belles in your stéeple? No, my Lord quoth he. Then said the Abbot, Sell away your stéeple. Why so, and please your Lordship? Quoth he, because it standeth void. Marry, said the man, we may well also sell away another thing in our Church, as well as that, and better too. What is that (quoth the Abbot?) Marry our Pulpit (quoth he) for this seuen yéere haue we not had a Sermon in it, nor I thinke neuer shall, but Belles I am sure we shall haue shortly.

Of one that lost his purse.

A Countrey man comming vp to the Tearme, by mis­fortune lost his purse: and because the summe was great, he set vp billes in diuers places of London, that if any man had found such a purse, and would restore it againe, hee should haue very well for his paines. A Gentleman of the inner Temple, wrote vnder one of his billes, that he should come to his chamber, and did write where. So when he came to the place, the Gentleman asked him, first, what was in his purse? Secondly, what countey man he was? And third­ly, what was his name? Sir (quoth he) twenty pound was in my purse. I am halfe a Welshman, and Iohn vp Ianken is my name. Iohn vp Ianken (quoth the Gentleman) I am glad I know thy name: for so long as I liue thou nor none of thy name, shall haue my purse to kéepe. And so fare­well gentle Iohn vp Ianken.

Of mad conceited Bulkin.

BVlkin, well knowne in diuers places for his mad con­ceits, and his cozenage, vpon a time came into Kent, to [Page] Sittingborne: and there in diuers villages thereabout set vp billes, that all sorts of people, yong and old, that would come to Sittingborne, on such a day, they should find a man there, that would giue a remedy for all diseases: and also would tell them what would happen vnto any of them in fiue or sixe yéeres after: and he would desire but two pence a péece of a­ny of them. Whereupon people came of all sorts, and from all places: so that he gathered of the people that came, to the value of twenty pounds: and he had prouided a Stage, and set it vp, and placed a chaire where hee would sit: and so they being all come in, and euery one set in order, hee comes to the gate, and takes the money from them that gathered it; and bids them looke that good rule be kept, and so they did: also he bid them by and by sound the drumme, and then he would be­gin his Orations. He when they were gone, with all hast gets him to the backeside, and there hauing his gelding, gets vpon his backe, and away towards Rochester rides hee, as fast as euer hee could gallop. Now they thinking hee had béene preparing of things in a readinesse, sounded the drum. The Audience looked still when he would come. and staying one, two, thrée howres, nay more, thought sure they were couzened. Whereupon one of the company séeing a paper in the chaire on the stage, tooke it, wherein was written:

Whereupon all of them falling to cursing and swearing, were faine to depart like fooles indéed.

Of the rich Widdow of Abington.

THis Widdow desired a goship of hers, that shee would helpe her to a husband, not for any carnal desire she had, but onely to kéepe her goods, and sée to her lands, which is hard (saith she) for me to doe my selfe. The woman for all her talke, yet knew she spake against her mind: and there­fore thrée or foure daies after, she came to her, and said, Gos­sip, I haue found an husband for you, that is very wise and [Page] worldly giuen: but he lacks the thing you wot of, whereof I am sure you care not at all. Marry, quoth the widdow, let the deuill take that husband, if he will: for though I desire not the bodily pleasure, yet I would not haue him lacke that thing, which if wee should fall out, should make vs friends againe.

Of a Lawyer and his man.

A Worshipfull Gentleman, being a counseller, kéeping a very good house, kept a Gentlemans sonne to bee his Clarke, and to waite vpon his Table. So one day hauing store of guests, there wanted bread on the Table, hee becke­ned to his man to fetch some: who not vnderstanding him, came to him, and said, Sir, what would you haue? Séest not knaue (quoth he) there is no bread on the Table? therefore fetch some. There was enough euen now (quoth his man) if they would haue let it alone, and not haue eaten it vp. A­nother time, his guests hauing supt, and ready to depart, hee bade his man draw a cup of Wine, to make them drinke be­fore they went. The fellow comming vp with the guilt cup couered his master beckened him to take of the couer. Hée not vnderstanding, said, Master, what would you haue? Why, knaue, take off the couer, quoth he of the cup. Then hold you the candle, said his man: for I cannot doe two things at once.

How finely one sold two loads of hay.

IN London dwelt a mad conceited fellow, which with his witte liued with Gallants, and dominéerd with good fel­lowes. Not long agoe, in hay haruest, he gets a Pitchforke on his necke, went forth towards Istington in the mor­ning, and méetes with two loads of hay, comming towards the Citie to be sold: for the which hee bargayned with them that owed the same, for thirty shillings. Whither shall we bring them, quoth they? To the Swan, by Smithfield, said he. And so went his way, and left them, and to the Swan [Page] he went, to the goodman of the house, and asked if hee would buy two loads of hay? Yes, quoth the In kéeper, where bee they? Héere they come quoth he, What shall I pay quoth the In-kéeper? Foure Nobles, quoth make-shift. But at last they were agréed for twenty shillings. When they were come, hee bade them vnload the hay. So while they were vnloading, he came to the In holder, and said, I pray you let mee haue my money: for while my men vnload, I will buy some stuffe to haue home with me. The In-holder was content, and gaue him his money. And so he went his way. When the men had vnloaded their hay, they came and demaunded their money. I haue paid your Master, quoth the In-kéeper. What Master quoth they? Marry, quoth he, he that bade you bring the hay hither. We know him not (quoth they) Nor I (quoth he) but with him I bargayned, and him haue I paid. with you I medled not, and therefore goe séeke him if you will. And so the poore men were cou­zened of their hay.

Of a young Gentleman, that would haue kissed a maid with a long nose.

A Young Gentleman, none of the wisest, would haue kissed a faire maid, that had somthing a long nose, who saide, How should I kisse you, your nose is so long, that our lippes cannot méete? The maid waxing angry in mind, said, if you cannot kisse my mouth, Sir, for my nose, you may kisse me there, where as I haue neuer a nose.

Of one that fell off a tree at Greenested.

THere was a Husbandman that dwelet at Gréenested, that was gathering his fruit, and being hard at worke, forgot his footing, and downe he comes tumbling, and with his fall brake one of his ribs. To comfort him came a mer­ry man his neighbour, who said, he would teach him such a rule, that if he would follow it, he would neuer fall off a trée a­gaine? [Page] Marry, said the hurtman, I would you had taught me that rule before I fell: neuerthelesse, because it may hap­pen to profit me another time, let mee heare it. Then said the other, take héed that you neuer goe faster downe, then you goe vp, but descend as softly, and you shall neuer fall.

Of a Scholler and a Ploughman.

A Certaine Scholer being in Bedfordshire a rude plough-swaine reproued him for something, saying, that he could say all his prayer with a hole minde, and stedfast inten­tion, not thinking of any thing else. Goe to, said the Schol­ler, say one Pater noster to the end, and thinke on no other thing, and I will giue thée my horse. That I shall do, quoth the ploughman, and so he beganne to say, Our Father which art inheauen, till hee came to, Hallowed be thy name: and then his thought moued him to aske this question, Yea, but shall I haue the bridle and the saddle to? And so hee lost his bargaine.

How drunken Mullins of Stratford dreamed hee found Gold.

MVllins being drunke, and lying in his bed, dreamed that the diuell led him into a field to digge for Gold: and when he had found the Gold, the Deuil said, Thou canst not carry it away now, but marke the place, that thou maist fetch it another time. What marke shall I make, quoth Mullins? With Pilgrime salue (quoth the Deuill) for that shall cause euery man to shun the place, and for thée it shall be a speciall marke. Where he did so, and when he awaked, hee percesued he had fouly berayed his bed. Thus betwéene stinke and dirt vp he rose, and made him readie to goe forth. And last of all, he put on his hat, wherein also the cat had shit: so, for great stinke, he threw away his hat, and was faine to wash his head. Thus all his Golden Dreame was turned to Dirt.

Of a yong woman at Barnet, that sorrowed for her hus­bands death.

IN Barnet was a young woman, that when her husband lay a dying, sorrowed out of all measure, for feare that she should lose him. Her father came to her, willing her to bee contented: for he had prouided her another husband, a farre more goodly man. But she did not onely continue in her sor­row, but was also greatly displeased, that her father made a­ny motion to her of any other husband. As soone as her o­ther husband was buried, and the Sermon was done, and they were at dinner, betwéene sobbing and wéeping, shee rounded her father in the eare, and said, Father, where is the young man, that you told me should be my husband? Wher­at her father suddenly fell a laughing.

A poore beggers answere to a rich Citizen.

A Poore begger that was foule, blacke and lothsome to behold, came to a rich Citizen and asked his almes. To whom the Citizen said, I pray thée get thée hence from mee, for thou lookest as though thou camest out of hell. The poore man perceiuing he could get nothing, answered, Forsooth sir you say troth, I came out of hell indéed. Why diddest thou not tarry there still, quoth the Citizen? Marry Sir (quoth the begger) there is no roome for such poore beggers as I am: all is kept for such Gentlemen, as you are.

The subtilty of a Lawyer repaied with the like subtilty.

THere was an vnthrift in London, that had receiued of a Marchant certaine wares, which came to fifty pounds, to pay at thrée months, and at thrée monthes: but when hee had it, he consumed and spent it all: so that at the sixe months end, there was not any left to pay the Merchant: wherefore the Marchant arrested him. When hee saw there was no other remedy, but either to pay the debt, or goe to prison, he sent to a subtill lawyer, and asked his counsell how he might cleare himselfe of that debt. What wilt thou giue me (quoth [Page] he) if I doe? Fiue markes (quoth the other) and héere it is, and as soone as you haue done, you shall haue it. Well, said the Lawyer, but thou must be ruled by my counsell, and doe thus: When thou commest before the Iudge, whatsoeuer he saieth vnto thée, answere thou nothing, but crie, Bea, stil, and let me alone with the rest. So when hee came before the Iudge, hee said to the debter, Doest thou owe this Mar­chant so much money? Bea (quoth he.) What, beast (quoth he?) answere to that I aske thée. Bea (quoth hee) againe. Why how now, quoth the Iudge? I thinke this fellow hath gotten a shéepes tongue in his head: for hee answeres in the shéepes language. Why Sir, quoth the Lawyer, doe you think this Marchant that is so wise a man, would be so foolish as to trust this Ideot with fifty pounds worth of ware, that can speake neuer a word? no Sir I warrant you. And so per­swaded the Iudge to cast the Marchant in his owne suite. And so the Iudge departed, and the court brake vp. Then the Lawyer came to his Clyent, and asked him his money. since his promise was performed, and his debt discharged, Bea (quoth he.) Why, thou néedst not cry Bea any longer, but pay me my money, Bea (quoth he againe. Why, thou wilt not serue me so, I hope (quoth the Lawyer) now I haue vsed thée so kindly. But nothing, but Bea, could Master Lawyer get for his paines, and so was faine to depart.

A tale of a merry Christmas Carroll, sung by women.

THere was sometime an old Knight, who being disposed to make himselfe merry, in a Christmas time, sent for many of his tenants, and poore neighbors, with their wiues to omner: when hauing made meate to be set on the Table, would suffer no man to drinke, till he that was master ouer his wife, should sing a Carroll, to excuse all the company: Great nicenesse there was, who should bee the Musician, now the Cuckow time was so farre off. Yet with much a­doe, looking one vpon another, after a dry hemme or two, a dreaming companion drew out as much as hee durst, to­wards an ill fashoned ditty. When hauing made an end, to [Page] the great comfort of the beholders, at last it came to the wo­mens table, where likewise commandement was giuen, that there should no drinke be touched, till she that was master o­uer her husband, had sung a Christmas Carroll: wherupon they fell all to such a singing, that there was neuer heard such a catterwalling péece of Musicke. Wherat the Knight laughed heartely, that it did him halfe as much good, as a Cor­ner of his Christmas Pie.

A iest of a Felon at Oxford.

THe Assises being at Oxford, among the rest, there was a Felon that had the benefit of the Clergy, to haue his booke. but he could read neuer a word. Which a scholler per­ceiuing, stood behind, and prompt him with his verse that hée was to read; and comming to the latter end, hee held his thumbe vpon the booke, that the scholler could not sée: wher­fore he bade him softly take away thy thumbe: he thinking that the same was so in the booke, said aloud, take away thy thumbe. Which the Iudge perceiuing, bade take him away. And so he was condemned: and being vpon the ladder, rea­dy to dye, and the rope about his necke, he said. Haue at yon Dasie, that growes yonder. And so leaped of the gallowes.

Of a Gentleman of Norfolke and his Host.

A Gentleman of Norfolke, as hee was riding towards London in the winter time; and sitting by the fire side, with his Host, vntill supper could be made ready, there hap­pened a Rabbet to be at the fire a rosting, which the Gentle­man perceiued to be very leane, as hee thought. Quoth hee vnto his Host, we haue Rabbels in our country, that one will drip a pottle. and bast it selfe. The In-kéeper wondred with himselfe, and did thinke it to be a lye, but would not say so, for maners sake, and because he was his guest: but think­ing to requite him, Now truely, quoth he, it is very strange: but I can tell you of as strange a thing as that. Which the Gentleman very desirous to heare: quoth he, I had as sine a Grayhound, as any was in England: and if I had happe­ned [Page] to goe abroad to my grounds, the Grayhound would al­way go with me. And somtime there would start out a Hare before me, which my Grayhound would quickly catch. It fortuned that my dog died, and for very loue that I bare to him, I made me a bottle of his skin, to carry drinke withal. So, one time in hay heruest, my folke being making of hay in my grounds, and the weather hote, I filled my bottle with béere, to carry to them, least they should lacke drinke. And as I was going along, there start a Hare out of a bush be­fore me; and as it was my custome, I cried Now, now, now. My bottle leaping from my girdle, ran and catcht the Hare. What quoth the Gentleman, me thinkes that should bee a lye. Truely sir, said the In-kéeper, so did I thinke yours was. The Gentleman perceiuing that he was requited for his kindnesse, held himselfe contented.

A tale of a Printer and a Gentlewoman.

AS a merry conceited Printer was going thorow S. Martins in London, with a friend of his, being merrily disposed, quoth he, I will lay a quart of Wine with you, that I will go and kisse yonder Gentlewoman, who is comming on the other side of the way. Wilt thou, quoth the other? and I will lay it with thée. The wager being laide, presently this Printer crosses the way, and met this Gentlewoman, and with cap and bended knée salutes her, and taking her by the hand, kissed her. The Gentlewoman somewhat abashed at this sudden salutation, and could not call to mind where she had séene or knowne him: Truely sir, said she (and made a low cursie) you must pardon me: for as yet I do not know you. Truely, nor I you, Mistris: but I hope there is no hurt done. So saluting her, went his way leauing the Gentle­woman much ashamed, and much laughing to the beholders.

A tale of a Gentleman and his man.

A Gentleman vpon a time hauing a man that could write and read well, rebuked him one day for idlenes, saying if I had nothing to doe, I would for the better comfort of my [Page] wit, set downe all the fooles I know. The fellow making little answere, tooke his pen and inke, and as his Master had wished him, fell a setting downe a Catalogue of al the fooles, that he was well acquainted with: among whom, and first of al, he set downe his Master, who reading his name, would néedes know the nature of his folly. Marry (quoth hee) in lending your Couzin twenty pound this other day: for I thinke he will neuer pay you. Yea, but (quoth his Master) what if he doe pay me? Then (quoth his man) I will put out your name, and put downe his for a foole.

A fray betwixt a clowne and a Pasty of Venison.

A Certaine rich Counsellor of the common law, who kept his Termes at an Inne of Court néere y ^t Citte of Lon­don, and his vacations in the Countrey, vsed euery Sunday to haue one Client or other (whose purses paid for't soundly before hand) at dinner with him, to the end (I guesse) that his kind entertainment might cause them to retaine him in their Law-causes for counsell. Now it chanced one Sun­day in the last long vacation that a silly Rustiche fellow that neuer or seldome tasted better chéere then Rye bread and whey butter, being seated at the taile or lower end of this Counsellors table saw a hot Reddéere Pasty standing vnder his nose, and taking it to be a browne loafe (as indéed it was like one) hee tooke it out of the dish, set it against his brest, and whipping out his toole no larger then a Cooks mincing knife, he made a breach in the walles and thinking to passe quite through the towne viz. the Pasty without detriment, a troupe of hot shot viz. the fat liquor lying in Ambush sudden­ly sallied forth, and gaue the inuader such hot welcome, that betwéene rage and wéeping he flung away his weapon and retired swearing a great Othe that he neuer saw Porredge bak't in a browne loafe before. The Counsellor with the rest of his meale mates beholding this Issue of ignorance viz. his Pasty cut vp the wrong way, his table-clo [...]h embrode­red with bak't [...]utter and Déeres greace, his foole hardy guest making faces like Singer the clowne when his Master in [Page] the play bade him vntrusse, and blowing his tawny clutch like a Chauncery Clarke at Westminster Hall in a Hil­lary Tearme gaue him counsell that he should neuer assault such a Towne againe, till the breach were made before him, and so with much paine and more shame he departed hastely to get a cooler for his heat, leauing many there to laugh and ieast at his simplicitie.

A deceit of the hope of the couetous, with a Turnep.

THe King of France, Charles the fift, being presented by a poore Gardiner, with a Turnep of a huge greatnesse, gaue him for his reward fiue hundred rrownes, giuing him charge to lay it vp, and kéepe it safely for him, till hee did call for it. Which bounty being noted of all his Court, and chief­ly obserued by one couetous rich officer of his house, caused him, in hope of some greater recompence for a greater pre­sent, to present his Maiesty, with a faire and goodly horse: which the King thankfully receiuing, nothing his miserable nature, and that his gift rather did procéed, from hope of gaine, then good will, called for the Turnep; wherewith hee rewarded the miserable Asse: at which, hee no lesse fretted, then all that saw it, bartely laughed. And so I wish all such churles to be serued.

A pretty tale of a Foxe and an Asse.

IN the time out of mind, when men wrote they cared not what, I find a discourse of a Lyon, which being King of beasts, vpon some, I know not what cause, called a Parlia­ment. whereto a great number of his subiects, being come as néere to his presence as they durst, he caused a proclamation to be pronounced to the whole assembly, that what beast so­euer bare a horne in his head, should not after that day pre­sume to set foote within that chiefe wood of his, without his especiall license, and whosoeuer did violate his commaund, should bee held as a traitor, and suffer death, without further iudgement. It fell out within few daies after that, a Foxe hauing one night met with a breed of yong Géese, besides [Page] Rabbets and Chickins, and hauing drawne them to a bush, vnder which hee had laid them, farre from the high way, chanced in the morning to espie a poore Asse comming to­wards him, to whom after a few salutations, and questions touching his passage that way, he told the summary of the a­foresaid proclamation: who answered him, that it nothing touched him, for that hee had no hornes. Oh, (quoth the Foxe) take héede, thou hast long eares, and if the Lyon will say, that they be hornes, then they are as ill as hornes: but if thou will helpe me to carry a little poultry, that I haue taken héere for the Court, I will warrant thée to go and come safe. The poore Asse, whose backe was made for the purpose, to beare the Foxes burden, followed his counsel, and tooke vp the poultry, which the Foxe made shift to lay vpon his back: wherewith hee was no sooner come to the wood side, but a Wolfe espying him, ran towards him, of whom not a lit­tle afraid, he flung downe his burden, with this out-cry: let neuer an Asse follow a Foxe, lest he méete with a Wolfe at his iourneys end.

How a woman serued a Glutton, but yet he was too good for her.

NOt vnlike to Mother Bunch our Hostesse, an old wo­man in Sussex, that brewed good Ale, there dwelt, that had euery wéeke a lusy eater, and as tall a drinker, vsed to her house: but when hee had serued himselfe, hee would not pay any thing at all. The woman grieuing to bee thus vsed still, knew not what remedy to haue: for with his swagge­ring he dominéerd, because hee had béene a Souldier. One Tuesday morning he comes thither, saying, Hostesse, what shall we haue to breakfast? I haue nothing of your price (quoth she) at this time. Whervpon he began to sweare so pitifully, that he so feared the woman, that she set a dish of swéete butter before him, that she had kept for others, that were to come thither: whereof he began to eate so gréedily, that she feared he would eate vp all. And thereupon she slept to the doore, as though one had knockt, and came in againe, [Page] and said to him, Sir, there is one at the doore would speake with you. Whereupon hee went to the doore, In the meane space she thruste his knife in the fire, and heate it almost red hot. In comes he againe, saing there was no body there. Then belike he is gone, quoth shee. Hee taking his knife a­gaine, would haue cut the butter, but it fell stil from the knife whereat he wonding, said, Hostesse, I maruaile what ailes my knife! Truely, Sir, your knife blushes to sée his master so vnreasonable. In faith, said he, if this knife blush, his fel­low here yet looketh pale: and so drawes out his other knife, and eates vp the rest of the butter cleane.

The answere of a Gentlemans man to his Master.

A Worshipfull Gentleman in London, hauing on a time inuited diuers of his friends to supper to his house, and being at supper, the second course comming in, the first was one of the Gentlemans owne men, bringing a Capon, and by chance stumbling at the portall doore, the Capon flew out of the platter, and ran along the bords to the vpper end of the Table where the Master of the house sate, who making a ieast of it, said, By my faith, it is well, the Capon is come first, my man will come anone too, I hope. by and by came his man, and takes vp the Capon, and laies it in the platter, and sets it on the boord. I thanke you sir quoth his Master, I could haue done so my selfe. I, quoth his man, tis a small matter, sir, for one to doe a thing, when hee sées it done be­fore his face.

Of one that coosened himselfe.

TWo schoollers of Oxford comming to London and ha­uing little money betwixt them they alighted in great Wickham at an Iune and there call'd for two peny-worth of Egges, which being brought and quickly eaten, they paid the reckoning, got vpon horsebacke and rid forwards on their Iourney, and by the way quoth the one to the other, I haue coosend mine Host finely, how I prethée (quoth the other) why quoth he I haue eaten a whole chicke in one of my Egges and paid nothing for it.

Certaine sullen speeches of Diogenes to Alexander.

DIogenes walking on a time in a Church-yard néere vnto a highway, that lay in a valley, espied Alexander with a great traine a farre off vpon a hill, comming downe towards that towne, where the Church stoode. Wherupon, minding to put Alexander out of such proud humours, as he doubted of him at that time to be possessed with, ran in all hast vnto the Sexton of the Church, for the key of the doore, within which lay the dead mens sculles, and bones, which had bene digged vp: where taking out as many as hee could well carry in his armes, hee laide them one by one, in the way where Alexander was to passe: who being come some­what néere vnto him, and séeing his paines, in laying of the bones▪ asked what he ment by it? Why (quoth Diogenes) I haue heard that here haue bene as well the bones of Prin­ces, as poore people, buried here in this Churchyard: and now I haue béene laying them together, to sée, if I can find any difference, whereby I might find which were the Prin­ces, and which the Beggers: but truely they are so like one another, that I find no difference at all. Well (quoth A­lexander) this is one of thy dogged humors: but how darest thou thus trouble me in my time of pleasure, knowing that I can take thy life from thée, if I list? Why (quoth Dioge­nes) doe thou know, that I will die in spight of thy téeth, and therefore care not for thy threats, knowing death to bee the worst that can come of them, and my offence no greater then this in deseruing of them. Which answere Alexander well noting▪ knowing his nature, left him to his sullin humours.

Of a drunken fellow that fell in the fire.

THere was a notable drunkerd of Rochester, whom his wife perswaded as much as in her lay, to leaue that sin: but the more shee spake, the worse hee was, and because shee controuled him, he would al to beat her. So she let him alone, and because his vse was still to stay out till almost midnight, she would goe to bed, and bid her maid tarry vp for him, and [Page] make a good fire: and so she did. One night when hee came home, the maid let him in, and hee stood by the fire and war­med himselfe: but his head being to heauy for his body, down he fell in the fire all along, the maid ran crying? Oh, Mistris, Mistris, my Master is fallen into the fire. No force, maide (quoth shee) let him take his pleasure in his owne house a Gods name, where he will himselfe.

A pretty tale of a Foxe and a Goose.

IN the time when birds and beasts could speake, and the winds could carry many tales thorow the wood, as it is written by some idle head, there came a Foxe out of a wood, vnto a country house, there néere to adioyning, where find­ing a broode Goose, within a kind of open penne, saluted her in this manner: How doe you sister? I heard you were not well of late, which made me come to visit you, as one, who would be glad to do you any good that lay in his poore power. The goose sitting ouer her young brood crowding, made him this answere: Truly, I am not wel, yet I thinke I and mine should doe much better, if you would not come so often to vi­site vs: yet for that I haue a paine in my backe, I pray you come in and féele how it is swelled, that you may the better teach me what to apply vnto it. The Fore very glad of this vnlooked for kindnesse, hoping to haue that he came for, put his head no sooner within the doore, but a dog lying closely hidden, caught him by the nose, and biting off a péece of his chap, with a sudden snatch let him goe. The poore Foxe making no little hast home to his borough, no sooner came among his fellow Foxes but with great sighes told them, that hee was bitten with a Goose. Which the bitch-foxe hearing, with an o­pen mouth ran at him, and beat him out of the hold, with this shamefull reproach: Goe coward, bite ber againe, thou shalt neuer come within my borough, to be bitten of a Goose, and bring away neuer a feather.

Of King Henry, and the countriman.

KIng Henry riding a hunting, in the Countie of Kent, he came by chance to a great gate, that he must néeds [Page] passe through, and in the way there stood a ploughman, to whom the King said: I prethée good fellow, open the gate. The fellow perceiuing it was the King, stood like an Image, and said: No, and it shall please your Grace, (quoth he) I am not worthy to be in that office, but I will fetch Master Coo­per, that dwelleth but two miles hence, and he shall open you the gate. And so ran away, as fast as euer he could.

Of the old man of Monmouth, that gaue his sonne all his goods in his life time.

IN Monmouth dwelt an ancient man, of faire possessions and great lands, hauing but one sonne to enioy all his sub­stance. His sonne being married, he gaue him all that he had, and so would liue frée from all wordly matters in his old age with his sonne in his owne house. After the déede of gift was made, a while the old man sate at the vpper end of the Table, afterward they set him lower about the middle of the Table: next, at the Tables end: and then among the ser­uants. And last of all, they made him a couch behind the doore, and couered him with old sackcloth, where, with griefe and sorrow the old man dyed. When the old man was bu­ried, the young mans eldest child said vnto him: I pray you father, giue me this old sackcloth. What wouldest thou doe with it, said his father? Forsooth said the boy, it shall serue to couer you, as it did my old graundfather.

How a woman, to hide a small fault, shewed a greater.

A Woman at Romford, had for some cause shauen her head, and newly as shee had put her kerchiefe of her head, one of her neighbours called for her hastely in the stréet. When her neighbour saw her so, she blamed her, for com­ming abroad bare-headed. Shee remembring herselfe, whipt vp her cloathes from behind her, ouer her head. And so to hide her head, she shewed her bare taile.

How a madde man in Glocester shire answered a Gentle­man.

IN Glocester shire dwelt one that cured franticke men in this maner: When their fit was on them, hee would put [Page] them in a gutter of water, some to the knées, some to y ^e middle, and some to the necke, as the disease was on them. So one that was well amended, standing at the gate, by chaunce, a gentleman came riding by with his hauks, and his Haunds. The fellow called him to him, and sayd, Gentleman, whi­ther go you? On hunting, quoth the gentleman. What do you with all those Kytes and Dogges? They be Haukes and Houndes, quoth the Gentleman. Wherefore kéepe you them, quoth the other? Why quoth hee, for my pleasure. What do they cost you a yéere to kéepe them? Forty pounds quoth the Gentleman. And what doe they profit you, quoth hee? Some ten pounds (quoth the Gentleman.) Get thee quickly hence, quoth the fellow: for if my Master find thée héere, he will put thée into the gutter vp to the throat.

Of an Hermit by Paris, that lay with all the chiefest gen­tlewomen in the Country.

THis notable knaue, that vnder colour of holinesse, en­ticed all the chiefest Matrones of the Country to folly; at last, his doings were detected and knowne, and hee was brought before the Duke of Anioy, which to heare the number of them for his disport, called his Secretary to write them downe. The Secretary bade him recount them. The Hermit named to the number of xxvii. of the Dukes ser­uants wiues, and others, and then stood still and said nothing. Is there no more, quoth the Duke? No, and it shall like your Grace, quoth the Hermit. Tell troth quoth the Secreta­ry for if thou doest not, thou shall be sharply punished, Then said the Hermit, sighing, to make vp the xxviii. write thine owne wife, in the number. Wherevpon, the Secretary for very griefe, let fall his pen. And the Duke, laughing harte­ly, said, I am glad, that he that with so great pleasure, hath heard the faults of other mens wiues, should now come in­to the same number himselfe.

The miserable niggardice of a Iustice.

A Hoary-headed miserable Iustice, came to London, to the Tearme: And lying in Fléet-stréet, a company of [Page] excellent Musicians, in a Morning, played very earely at his chamber. But being loth to bestow his money so vaine­ly, bad his man tell them, hée could not as then heare their Musicke for he lamented for the death of his Mother. Wherfore they went their way, for their hope was deceiued. A Gentleman, a friend of his in London, hearing the same, came to comfort him, and asked him when his Mother dyed? Faith (quoth he) some xvi. yeers agoe. When his friend vnderstood his deceit, he laughed hartely.

A witty answere of a Magistrate to a malicious accusar of an offender.

A Malicious fellow, willing to bring a neighbour of his vnto all the disgrace he could deuise, and shrewdly sus­pecting him, to haue more then a moneths minde to a fine Mistris néere vnto him, oftentimes watching his going in, and comming out of her house. One day among other in the euening, noting his long stay, suspected that there was somewhat to doe more then all the parrish was acquainted with, and therefore séeing the maid gone forth vpon some errand, béeing very earely in the morning, suddenly stept in with a companyon of his, and tooke them together at their exercise: which being glad of, and that hee had witnesse to make his matter good, runnes to the Magistrate of the Ci­tie, who had to deale with such persons, and such cases, and told him as much as he had séene: with, oh Sir, I assure you he is a perilous man for a woman, and to tell you the troth, we tooke him in bed with her: what say you to such a fellow? The Magistrate somewhat allyed vnto the young man, and wishing rather a secret amendment, then an open reprehen­sion, gaue him this answere: Truely, for the matter it is not well: but for being taken in bed with her. in truth, I can thinke no otherwise, but hee was a slugard: I know not what to say to him. The accusar séeing the people smile, and himselfe mocked with this spéech, did no further aggrauate the matter, but with a flea in his eare, went away with his malicious humor.

A Tale of a merrie yong Gentleman.

A Gentleman comming to baite at an Inne in Egham, called to haue a cloath layd, and went vp into a Cham­ber, the Chamberlaine comes presently after, and brings vp a cloath, trenchers, bread and salt, which being laid, he went downe for the meate. Meane-while the Inne-kéeper comes vp, and entertaines the Gentleman (as most of his trade will doe) onely to winne fauour and get custome. And see­ing neither Béere nor Napkin on the Boord, snatches vp one of the Trenchers in a rage, and throwes it out of the Window at his seruant. The Gentleman séeing that, takes the Bread and Salt, and Table-cloath, and throwes all out at the Window after it. The Host asked him what he meant by that. Why mine Host (quoth the Gentle­man) I thought you would haue had me dined beneath.

A tale of a Miller.

A Millers man that neuer knew what belonged to wit or good manners, brought a sacke of corne ground to a Gentlewomans house being a widow, and keeping house in Essex, who sitting at her doore when this dunce came, asked him what he had brought, sir reuerence of your worshippe (quoth he) my maister hath sent home your corne forsooth, wherevpon she willed him to lead his horse into the stable: and while her men vnloaded him, come in and eat somwhat, O no quoth my Abraham Ninnie, my horse hath a great laske with lying in the open fields, and should hee come in hée would be-pisse your worships stable, and eat out of all measure.

The first Gull, vpon the wager of the Horse and the Cowe for good trauell.

THere was sometime, not many yéeres since, a mercy conceited man, of what pro­fession, I doe not well remember, who hauing occasion to take post from some hauen Towne néere the Sea, came to the Mayor of the Towne, to complaine uthe Constable of the Towne, for his little honesty in pro­aiding him such ill horses, knowing the nature of his busines, ond the hast it required. The Mayor looking vpon them, as tne that had not often made any posting iourneis, told him, hat though they were not so good as hee had séene, yet they could serue the turne well enough, and that as then hee hought the Towne would yéeld him no better. Whereupon the poster told him, that if he were no better furnished, that in his Country a man would teach a young Cowe, to carry him further in a day, then the best horse in that Towne: and for a néede hee could doe as much there: and thereupon hee would lay twenty pounds. The Mayor discontented with his spéech, told him he would lay the wager, tooke money in earnest, the words were set downe, witnes set to their hands that in xxiiii. houres hee would so diet a young Cowe, that she should carry him further in a day, then the best horse in the Shire. The Cowe was brought into a stable, hay, and water set to her, and in the morning when hee should ride, a horse brought thither to the place, which presently he would haue bound to the Cowe: which being too heauie for the Cowe to carry, they all found the deceit: and the poore Ma­yor being made a good Gull, was forced to confesse his folly, & to giue the poster a good piece of mony, to be rid of his wager.

The second Gull, vpon the wager of leaping.

A Certaine yong well limmed, broad shouldred, and milpost-legged yong man, (who it should séeme) with following of hounds, was vsed to leaping of ditches: and so with vse grew to be held the cap­taine leaper of that side of the countrey. One day among o­ther, wherein games came about the countrey; best, second, and third, a great assembly of the youth of diuers parishes striuing before their best beloued, who had the lightest paire of héeles, put in their péeces of money, each one for the best, or the rest, as it fell out. This gallant yonker aduancing himselfe, béeing vntrust for the purpose, offers any man a foote before him, for the price of a quarter of the best malt in the countrey. But while no man would meddle with him, one mad-headed fellow standing by him, suddenly stept to him, and told him, that if hee might chuse his ground, there vpon the ground before him, that he would aduenture vpon the aduantage of a foote before him, at the vprising or stan­ding, he would leape with him for fortie shillings. The wa­ger was laid, the money put into a boxe, and the witnesses came to sée the leaping: when he that tooke the foote before him, tooke his ground iust before a great Elme trée, that grew on the gréene hard by: where béeing able to leape no further then the tree, the other finding himselfe deceiued, was contented to loose part of his money, to learne him better wit: and so like a good Gull went his way.

The third Gull, vpon a wager of going as fast as a horse, and goe all one way.

A Dapper yong fellow, vpon a time hauing bought him a pretty ambling gelding, was for certaine daies almost neuer off from his backe: and riding him no long iourney, but as it were betwixt Lon­don and Mile-end, in the view of many people, willing to make shew of his horse, or horsemanship, sitting as vpright as a picture of Rye dowe, a subtill companion of his acquain­tance, [Page] meaning to make a Gull of his mastership, told him it was a pretty Nagge, but he was but slow pased, and that he would lay fiue pounds, that he would goe as farre in a day on foote, as he should ride his horse, and goe both one way. The fine and all so fine, béeing much moued, to heare his horse so disgraced, accepted his offer, laid the wager, and they put the money into a mans hands of good worth, that stoode by. Which done the mery fellow standing in the high way, went backwards. Which the horseman assaying to do, not vsed to those kinde of tricks, his horse rising aloft, fell back­wards with him, with danger of his life, when rising vp, and séeing the other still going backewards, called to him, and with confession of losse, taking backe what hee would giue him, remained a good Gull for his labour.

The fourth Gull, vpon a wager to hang himselfe,

VPon a time, I haue forgotten when, in a place out of minde, met a company of good fellowes, which béeing likely to bee some Inne, while the people were all set at dinner, came in an old rich Farmer of the countrey, who being well lyned in his purse, and there­fore might haue the merier heart, was so full of talke at din­ner, that scarce any man else was heard at the table. Which a Scholler sitting among them, well obseruing, and withall séeing him well tickled in the head with the good drunke, vpon the sudden fell into this spéech with him: Honest man, I pray you pardon me, if I say any thing that may offend you; I am sorie to sée the euil that is towards you: you haue bene very mery, but I feare, you will neuer be so againe in this company: for I sée in your eyes a spirit of madnesse, which will very spéedily bring you to your vnhappy ende: for in­déede, within this houre, you will hang your selfe in the sta­ble, vpon one of the great beames: and that I will lay a good wager, either with you, or any of this company. The olde man much moued at this spéech, and yet noting his grauitie, told him, that hee was sorie to sée a Scholler haue so much learning, and so little wit: but my friend (qd. he) if you haue [Page] any money in your purse, you shall be rid of it, when you will, vpon that wager. Wherevpon the Scholler gaue him ten shillings, and told him, that if bee did not hang himselfe, within an houre after, and first come into the house, and aske forgiuenesse of all the house, he should giue him but ten pound for it. The Farmer tooke the money, called in for wine and sugar, and made merry withall. At the houres end, he came to take his leaue of the Scholler, and his company, who told him, that he must pay ten pounds, for that he had not hanged himselfe. At which words, he finding the deceit, confessed his ignorance, payed for the good chéere, and trebling the Schol­lers money, like a true Gull got him home againe.

The fift Gull, that lost the wager vpon the great Hog.

IN the midst of the terme, at a certaine Alehouse or Inne, where couetous wretches set their halfe starued horses, and themselues féede vpon browne bread, and red Her­rings, vsing after supper to sit sixtéene at a faggot and a pot of béere, and inquiring of mine host, what newes in the towne? a cunning companion, that could féede vpon the braines of a cunny, gat him a lodging in the house: and get­ting a company of old written papers, bound vp in scrowles, like lawe cases, would play the penny-father among them, till he had made his market with some of them: so holding an euen hand among them, talking of many idle things, atlast brake out into a great admiration of the strange wonders of the world, and of all not the least, of a huge great hogge, that he had seene in the countie of Lincolne, neere vnto the Fens, where were three Sowes that were so high, that the tallest man in the company standing vpright, let him reach as high as he could, he should not touch the back of it, and those three Sowes with their pigs, were a poore mans, that would sell them for twelue pounds, and if he had had money, he would haue bought them, and haue gotten a hundred pounds by the bargaine. Foure or fiue of those greedy Asses, giuing no litle eare to his talke, entreated him that he would bring them thither, and they would beare his charges. Bnt he, only lea­ning [Page] to one of them, whose purse he knew to be full of mony, secretly in a morning stole away with him, and rode downe with him into the countrey: where keeping of a certaine blind house of lodging, kept the poore man at his house fiue or sixe daies, to see these great sowes, and in the end brought him vnto a prety Sowe, by whom he caused him to stand vp­right, and reach vp his hand as high as he could, when he as­ked him, if he did not touch her backe? Who answered, No: for he was too high aboue it. Well (quoth he) this is the Sowe that you shall haue for foure pounds of your money that I haue receiued of yow, which he had deliuered him the night before. The poore man, finding his greedines kindely met withall, and that he must take the Sowe, or lose all, was content with losse of halfe of his money, to returne againe, as good a gull as he went out.

The sixt Gull vpon a lifting Dogge.

AN idle headed fellow, new come out of the Coun­trey, and determining, after a litle money spending, to returne home with a budget full of newes, met by chance with an odde wagge, cousin Germane to a Page: who finding his humor, and meaning to fit him in his kinde, fell into this honest kinde of parlee with him: Oh old huddle and twang, what newes in the countrey, that you are come to towne? hast thou beene at a play yet? Yea (qd. the good clowne) that I haue, two or three. But Sirra, what newes where you keepe? I am sure you heare all the world. No great newes (quoth the wag) but onely of the huge great lifting dogge, that came lately out of Barbary: they take but two pence a peece of euery one that seeth him: hee is at the signe of the Carnation Hedgehog in Westminster, neere to the Gatehouse: goe thither when thou wilt in my name, and thou shalt see him for a penny, the poore Asse little mistrusting the boyes waggery, went in al haste, seeking for such a signe as was not to be found. But being demanded wherefore he sought? one of the Pages coparteners in his tricks, told him, if he would giue him but a quart of wine, he would bring him [Page] to the Dog. The fellow weary with seeking for the Carna­tion Hedgehogge, was contented, for the abridging of his further trauile, to giue him both wine and sugar, with such appurtenances as cost his purse aboue an ordinarie. Which done, and the shot payed, out this youngster lead this little wit, from one lane to another, till hauing traced most streets to be thought vpon, at last he brought him out of the townes end, to a poore womans house, that kept a little Iseland curr: whom shewing vnto this good Goose, Looke you (quoth he) he lifts vp his taile so high, that you may kisse his arse▪ if you list: and with those words, laughing, ran away, crying, Oh Gull, Gull, get thee home into the countrey, and carry news of the lifting Dogge.

The seuenth Gull, for the Pigges, that were Hennes.

TRauailing vpon the way to London, out of what countrey▪ I know not, a certaine pretty quick wit­ted fellow, ouertooke a company of horsemen, who to passe away the time, fell to talke of such things, as came in their heads: Some of horses, some hawkes, some hounds, some hares, and some connies: but towards their iourneys end, they fell to talking of wonders, each one re­counting what he had séene: Some the long ditch at New­market, other the stones by Salisburie, and some the top of Powles and other of the Lions in the Tower: but among all this, the youth in a basket that ouertooke the company, began to tell of a most miraculous thing that hee had seene, and that but two nights before: that in a towne some fortie miles behinde him, at the signe of the whip and the Eg-shell, he did sée twelue pigges in a yard, going by two Sowes, and in the morning they were all hennes. Many séemed to wan­der at it, and the more at his sober protesting of his truth in his tale, Wherevpon, one simple man of the company, de­sirous to carry newes home of such things as he had seene a­broad, desired this fellow at his comming backe againe, to beare him company to that towne, and into his way backe a­gaine, and he would beare part of his charges, for his kind­nesse. [Page] This being betwixt themselues agréed vpon, their businesse being dispatched together, they rid home together: where, being well dried after a wet iourney, going to supper, they had one of the pigges well rosted in his house, whose name was henne: and in the morning, asking for these henne Pigges, hee shewed him all the rest. Wherewith finding himselfe sweetly deceiued, ashamed to tell the world how hee was abused, like a good poore Gull, got him out of the countrey.

The eight Gull, vpon the Gardens.

IT fell vpon a time, much about Sturbridge faire, that many madde people, minding to throw away a little mo­ney, for lacke of company in the citie, would needs go make merry in the countrey, among whom was one ially lustie wench, that had made herselfe fat with good ale and laughing. This peece of houshould-stuffe, beeing hostesse of I know not what Inne, say her husband what he list, would make one among her friends: and being some thrée or fourescore miles out of London, in a countrey market Towne, where were some such girles, as thought their pennies good siluer, and their ware worth money: After they had béene merrie some few daies, and almost emptied a poore tauerne of all his runlets, inquiring as the fashion is, after newes, this good mistris, falling to her turne to talke of wonders, told them, that one of the greatest wonders, that euer she saw, or heard of, was of late in the citie, done by a stranger touching Gar­dens, and the preseruation of flowers, for she had seene it with her eyes, that he had taught diuers how to take in their gar­dens euery night at their windows, and let them out againe euery morning. Which thing the neighbours that came with her, seemed to sooth vp, that they had heard of the like, but they had neuer seene it. But she with solemne othes stil affirmed, that shee had seene it, and could bring them to it. While they all gaue eare vnto it, one chiefe woman of the company▪ who had her purse well lyned, and cared not for to spend a little money for the satisfying of her humor, vpon a [Page] beliefe of her solemne protestations, told her, that if she might be assured to come to the sight of that she spake of, she would take some of her neighbours with her, and she would beare her company backe to London. To be short, the matter was agréed vpon, the wonder was beléeued, the day appointed for their iourney, and together they came to London, where they lay all at her house, had good chéere, and payed well for it. But after that they had gone abroad with the hostesse, to sée sights, Cheapeside, the Exchange, Westminster, and London bridge, had trode the top of Powles, vnder their féet, béene at Beare garden, séene a play, and had made a tauerne banquet, looking into their purses for to discharge their ex­pences, were willing to sée this strange sight of these Gar­dens, which she had daily promised to bring them to, but still making excuse, that they were in the countrey, and not yet come to London againe, that had such gardens to be seene: in the end brought them into a little lane, whereout at a garret window, shee shewed them a poore widdow setting ont cer­taine boords, and vpon them certaine earthen pots, in which were diuers kindes of flowers, and herbes, as Gillyflowers, Carnations, and such like. The woman séeing her selfe, with her company mocked with this iest, made little shew of an­ger, but séemed to laugh it out, and with this tricke of mi­stris Hestesse, to gather some money with her wit, tooke a Gull with her into the countrey, to féede a soole when shee found him.

The ninth Gull, that wisht for the wood.

AMong madde countrey wenches, that when they sit a milking, will be talking of their swéet hearts, it was my happe not long since, lying close vnder a bush, to heare a merry tale, of a bird little wiser then a Woodcocke. There was a yong fellow that was well furnished for implements of houshold, mary his wealth was not great, and his wit but little, and his spirit of a weake constitution. For as it fel out, a rich widdow, that was past a girle, and therefore knew [Page] what to do with a good thing, when she had it, hearing diuers reports of such persons, as she was wished to make much of, among all, she heard of one yong man, a neighbours sonne of hers, to be a sufficient man to doe her much good seruice, either within the house, or without, either for plowing, or threshing, or sowing, or such countrie worke, as best fitted her occupation. This yongman she sent for, and as farre as modestie might, she made shew of her affection: which the Goose not perceiuing, shee caried him one day alone into her chamber, where she told him, she must haue his helpe to re­moue a chest. The fellow vnderstanding nothing more then was told him, went vp with the widdow, and all alone from one chamber to another, the doores shutting after thē: where she often smiling at his either shamefastnes or foolishnes, in the end carried him to a chamber, where stood a chest that he could not remoue: when, saying he would fetch companie to helpe him, she answered no, now she was otherwise minded. And so leading downe againe the good Asse, shee neuer sent more for him. A friend of his, méeting of him comming forth, hoping of his good hap, knowing his being aboue with her a­lone, asked him how he had sped. Whose answere was, Oh, I wisht I had had her in the wood, and then I would haue told her my minde. Now what a notable Gull was this, I leaue to all good humored wenches to consider.

The tenth Gull that shooke his gloues.

THis tale was no sooner ended, but another wench began to quite her in this sort: Nay, then I will tell thée of as good an Asse, as that was for his life. In our Towne not long agoe, one of the chiefe of our parish, who was twice Churchwarden, and in election to be Bailife, a good fat grosse churle, hauing a good house of his owne, and well to take to, married a widdow, that dwelled three miles off: who, ha­uing good cattell, and corne, and some houshold of her owne, by the motion of good friends, made a match together. But this churle, being troubled with some sixtéene diseases, lay [Page] himselfe in one bed, and his wife in an other by him: who ha­uing a kinde of more then good liking to a yong man in the house, some kinsman of his, with shéepes-eyes, and smiles, and such odde kinde of wicked kindnes, she made him vnder­stand her minde: and béeing agréed one night to come into her chamber, when he was a sléepe, she told him for feare of the worst, that he should take a paire of her gloues, and flap them too and fro in his hand, which would make a noise like vnto a great Spaniell, that vsed often to shake his eares: which lesson he forgot not. Night was come, the candles out, they in bed, and he came créeping like a dogge. But the doore creaking, the old man halfe awake, or not fast asléepe, asked who was there? when the fellow shaking of his gloues toge­ther, made him thinke it was the dogge: when saying, Oh, Troll, he lay still as though he slept. But the fellow missing his way in the darke, running his head against his masters bed-post, vpon a sudden the old man start vp his head, with, How now? who is there? The poore man amazed, forgetting to flappe his gloue, answered, Forsooth, it is the dog. Where­at his mistris laughing, bad hang him vp. Whereat the fel­low, as it were following in, and seeking to driue him forth, cryed, come out. But in the morning, as I heard, the Gull was put in a coope, where I heard no more of him.

The eleuenth Gull, vpon the Colewort.

IT is a tricke among many trauailers, if they light into company, that they thinke haue not passed the Seas, to tell wonders, that wise men ought not to beléeue vppon the first hearing, Among which kinde of people, it fel out one day at an ordinarie, that a certaine idle companion, that loued to heare himselfe speake, and would talke more then either he vnderstood, or euer heard of, hearing diuers at the Table talking of the diuersitie of soyles, and the natures of fruits, began himselfe with a fine and all so fine kind of lisping vtte­rance, [Page] to tell that he had séene many countries, and noted the diuersities of their natures [...] one especially hée noted for the fertilitie of the sople [...]any kindes of roots,G [...]wrdes, [...] of frutis▪ there grew [...] together vn­der the [...] at his tale, and [...] that he [...] that no body [...] of the company, vpon the sudden, [...] in his kind [...] brake out into this spéech. [...] is not so strange, as that which I heard was in the same place, that all those Tinkers did worke together vpon one kettle. For what vse (quoth the Trauailer?) Mary sir (quoth the other) to see the [...] Colewort in. At which the [...] with as much spéed as he coul [...] Gull, gat him a way from the comapny.

The twelfth Gull, vpon [...] cry of Hounds.

I Read among the discourses of country actions, that a gen­tleman of the country, that loue [...] home-sports, as Haw­king, Hunting, Ducking, Fowling, and Fishing and such like: but of all, especially a good try of Hounds, of which hee kept the best in all the Countrey: vpon a morning ri­ding forth, néere a [...] side start a Hate, who ledde the Hounds a chase thorow the wood; where the winding of the hornes, the hollowing of the huntsmen, and the mouths of the dogges, made such a countrey pleasant sweet noyse, that the master of the sport, sitting still vpon his horse, as one halfe rauisht with his pleasure, estéeming no musicke comparable to such a cry, sodainely brake out into this spéech among them that were neere him, Oh what a heauen­ly noise is this! List, list, for Gods sake, is not this a hea­uenly [Page] noyse? Whereat one Gull of the Company, who, as it should seeme, neuer heard any dog but a Mastiffe, holding vp his eare, as it were towards the Skie, to heare some noyse from the heauens brake out into these words, Oh Lord, where is this heauenly noyse? Why harke (quoth the Gentleman) list a while, dost thou not heare? No (quoth the Gull) the curres keepe such a bawling I can heare nothing for them. Whereal the Ge­ntleman laughing, and yet inwardly chaffing at the fooles wit, rode away from him, and left him to learne more vnderstanding.