CHAP. 1.

IN the Reign of Oliver, Protector of England, there dwelt in the famous City of London, the chief Me­tropolis thereof, a Gentleman, who being well skilled in the Art of Physick, first got Practice, then a Wife, and then Children.

His name was Crispe: some say, Of the ancient Family of Crispus Salustius; though Antiquity hath quite worn away Salust, and left one Crispe behinde.

Among the rest of his Issue, he had thrée sons; the elder christened Toby, the younger ycleped Samuel, and the young­est sirnamed Rowland.

It is reported, that the Mother, while she was with child of these two striplings, dreamt that she brought forth two lumps of Chalk, and a pound of Pomecitron: upon which she went to an Astrologer, who did thereupon portend the swéetness of the young mens dispositions, and that they should be long'd after, by young Virgins.

All these, as they grew up, grew straight and proper; and for their Faces, they séem'd, if they pleas'd, made to save charges; for they were so good, they néeded no Bands. Their [Page] Father was not forgetful in their younger years to instil in­to them she wholesome Precepts contained in the Psalter, Primer and Hornbook, as well for instruction, as to make them capable of reading their Mother Language. But as they grew in years, higher Designes crept into their pates; and they resolved to enrich themselves with such accomplish­ments as should make them eminent. Prudently therefore considering at what mark to aim, in the first place, they re­ject Natural Philosophy, as too serious; they spurn away the Mathematicks, as too hard a Science for their tender capa­cities; they kick away Law, calling the Terme thereof, Conjuring. Being thus in a déep Debate, quoth Toby to Samuel:

As I am elder then you, so I may perhaps speak as wisely as you: 'Tis true, I am a Merchant, yet I have idle time e­nough to spare, and can follow any other handsome imploy­ment, to waste leisure-hours: Some men follow drinking; but I cannot maintain quarrels, and therefore I like it not. Some follow gaming; but there's mischief and danger in that, too, especially if a man question the Dice; so that I abjure it. Therefore I am of opinion, that there is no Art so suitable to our Dispositions, as the Art of Love; 'Tis a fine Calling, and a civil: for, Ladies, Brothers, will not only not fight, but love; and doubtless love us, being proper and handsome: Besides, Brother, as I take it, there is a Duty lying upon young men, to serve and wait upon young Ladies and Gentlewomen.

Toby having ended this Spéech, Samuel shouted for joy, saying to his Brother, that he was wiser then Solomon, and had more discretion then his Namesake, who was Iudge of Israel: But Brother, two heads are better then one; and therefore, as you have begun the invention, you shall sée how bravely I will contride the rest: For you must know, Bro­ther, that before we can practise this Art, to wait upon La­dies, as we should do, we must be knighted, and assume unto our selves certain Titles, after we have studied those things which are most requisite to accomplish us. Thus was St. George knighted before he could conquer the Dragon, for the [Page] Kings Daughters sake, and was called, The Knight of the Red Cross. So likewise, the Grocers Apprentice, before he could be fit to wait on his Mistrusses daughter, was knigh­ted, and called, The Knight of the Burning Pestle. First, therefore, let us learn to dance, then let us read the several Books and Treatises that may better our complemental Language, and then I shall not question but to find out some person or other, who may give us our Order.

CHAP. II.

WIth this intention they went to Sir Channel, Knight of the Kitt and Fiddle, who being a man of great expe­rience, and more knowing in his Art, then the seven wise Men of Greece, and withal, méeting with prompt wits and nimble héels, obtained great Renown, and caused their Re­putation to dilate it self, both far and near. Onely one thing griev'd him, that whereas he thought to have made them Masters of the Harmonious Castanets, their capaci­ties could never reach to do any thing worth hearing, upon those Instruments. However, they were not unmindeful to buy up the choicest Books of Complements, yet not with such a prodigality, as to give the Bookseller what ever he ask'd, but warily beating him down to the lowest price well knowing, that those who were too lavish in their youth, might come to want in their old age, according to the Doctrine of John De Moon. The next men consulted withel, were Millen [...]rs, touching the variety and priority of colours; and the instructions which they received from them, were wrote down in Table-Books, and con'd every morning before they said their Prayers: because their choicest Memorandums were alwayes laid up next their hearts. The next thing [Page] they did, was the choice of an able and knowing Taylors a man of good intelligence, as to the Fashion, without whose assistance, they could never be truly accomplish'd; one good suit of Cloaths doing a man more credit, then all the Gréek and Latine that ever was spoke since the destruction of Troy. But Lord, to sée how coy Fortune is to some, how frée to others! These Persons could no sooner wish but have: For going to Fleetstreet, one of these young persons happened to be adry; and seeking for an Ale-house, they lighted in at the sign of the Buff-coat: they called for Ale; 'twas asked whether Eleemosynary, or other Ale? they replyed, What Ale's that? quoth the Squire, This is the Castle of Sir Pemmel, Knight of the Eleemosynary Ale, as being that Liquor with which most commonly, he relieves distressed Knights: where­upon they sent for the Knight, who coming courteously unto them, they demanded several Questions; and among the rest, whether he had power to make Knights. Sir Pemmel re­plyed, That he had; and that, if they pleas'd, he could erect new Orders: at which they received great satisfaction, de­string to be made Knights also: and having heard a Cata­logue of Orders read to them, they at length pitched upon the Order of Fond Love: which being determined, the Laws were produced and read.

• 1. That they should never speak sence to any Lady they went to visit.
• 2. That they should give their Ladies often Treatments, and not minde what they spend upon them.
• 3. That they go every day to the Exchange, to see the ex­act Modes of Whisks, and Trimmings of Gloves, and give their Ladies information accordingly.
• 4. That their Handkerchiefs be alwayes perfum'd with Orange flower-water.
• 5. That they love every Lady they see; and that they have not so bad an opinion of the said Ladies, as to believe they do not love them again.

Those Laws being read, their Cars were stop'd with [Page] black Wool, lest any thing contrary to these Orders should enter into them; which being done, they were bid to knéel, when lo, in came Sir Pemmel, and laying the Fire-Fork on their shoulders, bid them, Rise up Sir Toby, and Sir Samuel Cripse, Knights of the Order of Fond Love. After this, they thank'd Sir Pemmel for his civility, and gave the Squire the odde peny which was over and above the reckon­ing, and so departed. Then resolving to have but one Squire betwéen them, to save charges, they went and hired [...], who readily agrée'd to serve them for five shillings a quarter, and their old silk Stockings.

CHAP. III.

'TWas now the time when the Sun, tir'd with his tedi­ous Summer marches, goes to bed before six, and ri­ses not till past seven; when lo, at the close of the evening, Sir Samuel, led by his Devotion, goes to the Temple of St. Bartholomews, behinde the Royal Exchange. In this place were met sundry fair Ladies, hearing an ancient man speak Divinity unto them. But they, who were before attentive to him, had now another Object to look upon. He came in well tir'd, his Band and half Shirt clean, his cloaths so in print, and worn with so much care, that he might well be call'd, The Glory of his Taylor. He entered with a face full of pride and disdain, regardless of courting those, whom he was confident his Person was enough to captivate. But Cupid having a mind to humble him, flies to the eyes of Don­na Elizabetha, and from thence shoots him to the heart. 'Tis true as Plowden said, The Case is now alter'd: For he that but now thought no Lady good enough for him, would now kiss this Ladies Bréech, so he might kiss her hands. Thus fatally struck, he departs; giving his Squire [...] [Page] [...] charge to dog her home, and give him an accompt of her Lodging.

CHAP. IV.

SIr Samuel being got home, his heart fell a throbbing and beating; as if the Cyclops had béen making Thunder­bolts there. He fetch'd sighs from the bottom of his Brest, and farts from the bottom of his Belly: If he eat, it was because he was an hungry; and if he drank, it was to drown sorrow. At length, impatient of delay, he uttered his woes in this sort: Oh most unfortunate of men, and most wretch­ed of young men! unhappy eyes! why were ye not asléep, asléep to sléep, your Destruction? To what purpose am I black and comely, straight and proper, but that women should be in love with me? and must I be now in love with woman? but I am in love, & cannot help it for my heart and guts. O Elizabetha, Elizabetha Tottel, thou hast undone Sa­muel Crispe. By this time his good Squire [...] came in, and told him where his Elizabetha lay: whereupon, calling for Pen, Ink and Paper, he thus wrote unto her.

These words he sealed up in perfum'd paper, and delive­red to his good Squire [...], to give unto the fair hands of his Mistress. But 'tis reported, that Eliza­betha having read the Letter, gave it her Chamber-maid, bidding her make use of it when she went next into the Garden. However, Love would not let him so desist; and therefore, since he could not obtain an answer, he resolves to go in person, as you shall hear in the next Chapter.

CHAP. V.

THus resolved, Sir Samuel, powder'd by his Barber, trim'd by his Taylor, and Ribanded with such Empha­tical Colours, that had he said nothing, his Mistress might have gather'd his meaning from his Codpiece, he sets on his journey. But Oh the fate of mortal wights! what a sad disaster befel him! For as he was going in the stréet, one of the Knights of the Cole-wharf méets him, with his Chariot laden: and as he came to the horse-head, the horse stumbling, all bespatter'd his Boot-hose. 'Twas a sad thing, to sée those white Boot-hose, which his Landress had béen one day washing, another day drying, and a third smoo­thing, all bedaubed in a minute.

He would have demanded satisfaction of the Knight of the Cole-wharf; but the Knight lifting up his Whip, he thought it better, since his Mistress was not by to take no­tice of the affront, nor there to inspire him with Valour, to go and shift himself, then to anger that man of choler, who went about to punish Knights, as other men punish dogs. [Page] Home therefore goes he, shifts himself, and to prevent the like danger, hires a Coach to carry him and his garments safe to the place where his affections resided.

CHAP. VI.

SIr Samuel being now in the presence of his Mistress, though at first he were a little daunted at the Majestie of her person, yet finding that he must either speak, or be counted a Puppy, for coming to visit a Lady, and saying no­thing; he addressed himself, after a leg or two made in mood and figure, in these following words.

Madam, seeing the painted cloth of your vertues hang out at the window, and Fame standing at the door with a Trumpet in her hand, I could not chuse, out of a natural inclination which I have to sights and Puppet-plays, but step in and behold the monstrousness of your beauties: and now Madam I have seen you, I admire you more then the hairy Gentlewoman. Donna Elizabetha reply'd, That truly his person was very proper, and his language was ve­ry eloquent: but withal she told him, that she was very sor­ry that he had put himself to so great a trouble, since she found by him (for she could sée as far into a Milstone as an­other) that he was not for her turn. But he confidently, as being now over shooes over boots, returns her answer, That she had created love within him, and that he hoped she would not cause it to be born and die at the same instant: and therefore he petitions her again, in these words: Most celestial beam of beauty, I have received you into my heart, which like a Burning-glass contracting the heat of your rays, is now all on fire, not to be quenched but by the moistning Julep of your affection; and therefore do not deny me life, since it is altogether in your power to give it. To which she festingly replies, that she was sorry she could not [Page] subscribe his petition: yet she was glad to sée him, for that she never saw a Phenix before; which she conjectured him to be, because he went about to die in his flames. However, if that were not his intention, rather then he should be scorched to death for love of her, that could not requite him, she would cause her Maid to make water in a bason, that he might bathe and quench his burning brest therein. Sir Samuel thanked her, telling her withal, that any stream of her kindness would be acceptably received into his bosome. But wo is me, (said he, procéeding) for I finde my words have made no more impression in your heart, then an ar­row on a rock of Adamant: so that I may say of you, that as in the greenest grass is the greatest serpent, in the clearest water the ugliest toad; so is your fair body lin'd with a cruel soul. Alas, you have no mercy on my Captivity; so that I am like the spaniel, that gnaws his chain, but so [...]ver spoils his teeth then procures liberty. But as a bladder is to a learning swimmer, so is Hope to me; which makes me apt to believe, that as there is no iron but will be so [...]t­ned with the fire; so there is no heart, how hard soever, that will not be softned by continual prayers. Consider, that the sun disdains not to shine upon the smallest worm. Reconcile your self to the humblest of your vass [...]ls, and do not through Marble-hearted cruelty overwhelm him with sense-distracting grief—He would have said more; but Elizabetha impatient of his impertinencies, flung in great haste out of the Room, not so much as staying to see him make his retiring honour.

Being thus yensively left alone, the Chamber-maid comes down, and seeing Sir Samuel in such a sad condition, she ac­costs him, telling him, that though he had not the way, yet she knew how well enough to prevail with her Mistriss; assuring him withal, that for five pieces she would make him possessour of the happiness he sought to enjoy. Sir Samuel shak'd his head at this, telling her, That it was for ought he knew, more then he should receive for her portion; but it five shillings would content her, it was at her service. At which words, the Maid discovering the pitiful humour of Sir [Page] Samuel, disdaining his profer, called him Sad Fellow, and Mole-catcher, telling him he did not deserve a Kitchin­wench: and as he went out of doors, she pinned a sheet of brown Paper to the Cape of his Cloak; which though it were not written, yet gave many people as he went in the streets, an opportunity sufficient to read the Character of the man.

CHAP. VII.

SIR Samuel being thus repulsed, and at his Wits end, since his person could do nothing, he resolves to try what his parts could do; whereupon knowing his own weakness, he resolves to make use of helps, and to steal where he could and a thing proper to his purpose. At length, he lighted on a Copy in a Play, which pleased him, and which he therefore resolved to make use of: The Ver­ses, as I have heard from a good hand, were these.

These Verses he enclosed in a Sheet of gilt Paper, su­perscribing it, To the most flourishing bud of honour, and Rose of delight, Donna Elizabetha Tottel, these present. Thus superscribed, he delivered them to his good Squire [...], to carry unto her: but Jack thinking there was no great hast of the business, gets into company, and falls a drinking: but at length, when the Ale had put high thoughts into his Noddle, he thought it was time to go a­bout his business: but he knowing the respect his Knight hare unto the Lady, when he came to present the Paper, fell [Page] in a most humble manner at her feet; and having some­thing more to deliver to her then his Knight imposed upon him, he spewed upon her shooes, thereby enigmatically set­ting forth the streams of his Masters affection: raised again at length upon his Legs, he began his Speech: Madam quoth he,—hickup—my Master—hickup—hath sent you some—hickup—some Verses; wherein—hickup—he hath declared—hickup—the reality—hickup—of his affections—hickup—as-plainly—hickup—as the Nose—hickup—in your face.—The Lady Elizabetha, seeing the young Squire in such a condition, and that he wanted lodging, caused him to be conveyed out of doors into the Porch, where he lay till the Watch came by: who then took him, and put him in the Round-house; whence being set at liber­ty, he went to Sir Samuel, relating to him his, and his own doleful misfortunes.

CHAP. VIII.

SIR Samuel now finding Elizabetha so stubborn and re­fractory to his destres, he was resolved to have two strings to his bow. Now so it sell out, that walking one day to­ward the close of the evening, he espyed standing at her door, a Lady passing fair and beautiful. He had already ex­perience that the Ladies were not taken with the propor­ness of his person, or the comliness of his face. Pondering therefore upon many ways and means to attain his ends, he began to think of the great power of money. It may be, quoth he to himself, this Lady may want some Geugaws, as Gloves, Pins and Ribans; now if I should furnish her hansomely with a small sum, certainly I shall eternally o­blige her heart and affections to me. In this Contempla­tion, he walks to and fro three or four times by her: at [Page] length, thinking it not convenient to profer money to a Lady whom he never saw before in his life, he resolved to put his coyn into a bag, and drop it as it were by accident before her. This he did in imitation of Jupiter, thinking to have enjoyed this Lady in a showre of Silver, as Jove enjoyed Diana in a showre of Gold. But such was the mis­fortune of this infortunate Knight, that the Lady frighted at the fall of the bag, fearing some Trapan, ran in adoors; leaving it to be taken up by the next Passenger, who scru­pled not to pocket up the price of Sir Samuels Love; with a resolution doubtless not to put it to any such frivolens use again. All this while Sir Samuel stood hugging his in­vention not far off; and at length seeing the Cat [...]strophe, with a patience like that of Job, beheld the loss voth of his Mistriss and his money, without taking any further notice thereof.

CHAP. IX.

SIR Samuel being foil'd in this adventure, resolves to seek his old Elizabetha, whose love could not yet be removed out of his heart: but coming to visit her, he found her gone into the Country. Laying therefore hold of this opportu­nity to shew the constancy of his affections, he resolves in a disguise to go in pursuit of her: but what disguise must this be? he would not put on womens clothes, for fear of being taken for a Whore, as Sir George Booth was. At length, he agréed upon the habit of a Shepherd swain; having read how that Love [...] commonly is clad in rural Wéeds, and lives in Cottages. [...] the first place, there­fore, he puts on a pair of Leather Breeches, and a Doublet of the same; his Legs he covers with course gréen Stock­ings; his Feet with Russet Shooes; his head with an old white Hat: and thns accoutred, he leaves the sight of Pauls Steeple.

CHAP. X.

LEaving now Sir Samuel in the Country, let us see what becomes of Sir Toby, and Lawrence the younger of the thrée Brethren. These two being acquainted with a Lady of great beauty, happened both to fall in love with her. Sir Toby thought he deserved her best, as being the elder Brother and a Knight: Lawrence thought she ought to love him best, as having thrown his affections first upon her. However, there happened great contention between them, so that they lived in perpetual strife. Lawrence willing to reconcile the difference; Brother, said he, you know how good a thing it is for Brethren to agree toge­ther: You and I, 'tis true, love one and the same Lady; now to reconcile this difference, I will propose three things to you, and let him that wins her, take her; that is, either let us play first come to three hits at Ticktack for her, or let us play an hundred and threescore up at Trap-ball for her; or let us play at push pin, and he that wins the first five pins, let him take her a Gods name. Sir Toby, though he could not but confess these three Propositions to be very reasonable, yet being blinded with love, he continued obsti­nate, and would yeild to nothing: which caused great an­ger in Lawrence, so that now in all companies, he curses his Brother, wishing him hang'd and at the Devil; and hath a great pick at his Mother for bringing him forth to be his Rival.

CHAP. XI.

SIr Samuel, as we said, being now in the Country, and having proceeded some two days journey, at length lighted into an Ale-house, where he intended to repose that night: but as he sa [...]e at Supper, the good Woman of the house observing the lily whiteness of his hands, as also the softness of his palms, and seeing him pull out some Gold out of his Pocket, thought to her self that this could not be a Shepherd swain, but certainly some Prince in disguise. Which caused the Woman, the times being then very troublesome, loath to harbour concealed persons contrary to the Act; and looking also for gain upon discovery, to give no­tice to the next Iustice, of Sir Samuels being there. Whereupon Sir Samuel was sent for, and prudently exa­mined; for as Sir Samuel himself relates, they took him for the King, though others say, They onely took him for an ordinary Spy; which is most likely: the next thing they did, was to search him; but finding nothing but Love-Let­ters, and a company of ridiculous Verses about him, the Iustice and his Clerk agréed with him for 10 pound in Gold to dismiss him: And so his money being spent, he was forc'd, without beholding his Mistrisses Angelick Face, to return, with his purse as empty as his head.

CHAP. XII.

'TWas now the time of the year when there is a great re­sort of people of both sexes at Tunbridge, a small village in Kent, famous for the purging Springs that are there found. Thither goes our Knight to make up the number of Skimmerers. Hard by, there stands a Wood, which Sir Samuel made his retiring place to recreat [...] his melan­choly thoughts. One evening, as he was musing there, he heard the Voyce of some body uttering the sad Complaints of a vexed Spirit. The Voyce caused him to draw near; and drawing near, he discovered two young Ladies sitting in a fair green Plat, bewailing their misfortunes. Sir Samu­el moved with compassion, accosts them; and having de­manded some questions of them, told them, He was a forsa­ken Lover, as he ghessed them to be, being a Knight of the Order of Fond Love. Whereupon one of the Ladies discovering in his Physiognomie, that the man might ea­sily be made an Ass; Sir, quoth she, casting her self at his féet, if you be such a one as you pretend, have compassion on a distressed Lady: I have lost my Maiden head, and prove with Child; therefore I desire you to marry me, to take off all reproach that the world may cast either on my Child, or my self. To which Sir Samuel replyed: Ma­dam, you being a Lady, and I a Knight, I should be no Knight should I not be kind to you a Lady. Then quoth she, Since neer relations ought to be more familiar, let us sit down together on the grass: to which the Knight readily consen­ted. Then she proceeding: My pretty dear, quoth she, suppose that I being thy wife, should ask thee for ten or twenty pieces to sport away at Cards, would you deny it me? No, as I hope to be saved, answered Sir Samuel: [Page] but suppose I should come and give thee a little box on the ear, and say, My Dear, let me see thy pockets, and so take out all thy money, wouldst thou be angry? No indeed law, an­swered Sir Samuel. With that she gave him a swéet kiss, and putting her hand into his Fob, took out all she could find; neither was she slow to secure it again in her own po­ckets. Then quoth she, My dear, you have rings on, which are doubtless the Euchantments which cause me and other women to love thee so: preethee let me see 'em: and so without more Complements, she takes them off. Sir Sa­muel, who had more of courtesie then craft, suffered all this. The Lady now well ballasted, of a suddain starts up, cries out, Theeves, Theeves, and runs away as hard as she could drive: Sir Samuel ran after; but at length finding them too swift, and considering that he had left his Cloak and Hat behind, he defisted from the chase, for fear of loosing all. Sir Samuel all this while thought this had béen only a love­trick, and expected to hear from them next morning; but the fifth and sixth day passing without any tidings, he conclu­ded himself puppyft'd, and cursed the day of his birth.

CHAP. XIII.

SIR Samuel finding by this time, that neither his person nor his parts could move his Elizabetha, resolved to play the crafty For, and to overcome her by slight. Oh the suttle inventions of love! for you shall hear what a strang [...] Whim came into his Noddle. Said he to himself: Wo­men are tender Creatures, and they have soft and tender breasts, and in th [...]se tender breasts lodgeth pity and compas­sion. They will revtle and scorn a man at this instant, but let the same person cut his finger in their company, and [Page] the next, they will give him the sugar-swéetest words of pity that a Woman can give to a Man. Let a Man fain himself sick for love of them, and their hearts will melt like Ice before the Fire: If then they will do so much for those that are sick for love, what will they not do for those that shall dye for love: I will dye for love of Elizabetha, and cause her affe­ctions to come like Butter, being churmed by the compassi­on of her soul towards me. Thus resolved, he dispatches his good Squire Jack Waterhouse, to desire her to keep her stomack, and to preserve the kéenness of her Appetite, for that he intended tomorrow to wait on her, to the Castle of Sir [...] Admiral of Thamesis above Bridge; which being full furnished with Neats Tongues and Fid­lers, he doubted not but to content her, if she pleased to go along with him. Withal he told him, That he was the happiest Squire in the world, who was now going to visit the beams of the Sun of Beauty. He bid him take notice also how she entertained him, whether she blushed just as he had delivered his Embassie; whether she stirs & is troubled when she hears his name, whether she repeats her answer twice or thrice over, and whether she séem to order her hair though not disordered; for that he could iudge by her actions and outward motions, whether it would be worth his while to spend his money on her or no. I go, said Jack VVater­house, and will return quickly, therefore enlarge that little heart of yours, which is no bigger then a Hasle Nut, and be of good comfort. The Message being at length delivered, Donna Elizabetha returns answer, not at all for love of Sir Samuel, but for love of the Collation, and in hope to make her self merry, that she know nothing to the contrary but that she might be ready when he came to wait upon her. With these glad Tidings, back goes Jack VVaterhouse, to chear up the spirits of Sir Samuel. To morrow comes, but Sir Samuel having ordered his designs, cannot appear himself; therefore he destres his Brother Sir Toby to go in his stead, and withal to entertain her at his charges; which Sir Toby out of a brotherly affection, willingly un­dertook. He was also des [...]d to beg the fair Elizabetha's [Page] excuse for Sir Samuel, for that he was very ill, and kept his bed. How! ill, quoth Elizabetha, of what disease? Of Love, replyed Sir Toby: whom loves he? said Elizabetha. He loves you, Madam, answered Sir Toby; you your self are the cause of his Maladies; and dye doubtlesse he must and will, if you continue in obstinacy. As he was conver­sing the Story, to confi [...]m the truth thereof, in comes a Letter from Sir Samuel to direct to the fair Elizabetha: it was brought by Jack VVaterhouse, with tears in his eyes, having left his Master laid out in his Winding S [...]et for dead. The term and purport of which Letter, was as fol­lows.

Elizabetha having read this Letter, asked Jack VVater­house if his Master were mad; and why he troubled her with such impertinence; telling him withal, That she was now in good company, and could not leave them: besides, she never cared for séeing dead men: and therefore she de­sired Jack VVaterhouse to bury him well; letting him know withal, that if he had left her a Legacy, she was wil­ling to receive it. With this Message Jack VVaterhouse returned; and Sir Samuel séeing his Metropolitan De­signe fail him, hearing the Exchange-Bell ring, rose again, and went about his business.

CHAP. XIV.

SIR Samuel seeing all his tricks and quillets to be void & of none effect, resolves to leave his Knight errantry, and to put off his Squire Jack Waterhouse; who being thereup­on destitute, returned again to his old Master Sir Channel. Now there being a great meeting of Knights and Ladies at his Castle, who had heard of the Adventures of Sir Sa­muel, they desired Jack VVaterhouse, as having béen his Squire, to give them an accompt of the man; which with little entreaties he did, in this following Character.

CHAP. XV.

THus, gentle Reader, do I put period to the Misfortunes of our unfortunate Knight: I have given thee a large accompt of his Life; it is truly summed up unto thée. Now being thus abused in the Country, laughed at in the City, despised and scorned both in City and Country; unpitied by Ladies, uncompassionated by Men; what remains for him to do? Nothing that I know of, but onely to take a Rope, yea, a new Rope, even a new two-peny Rope, and hang him­self; so shall he die revenging himself upon his Enemies, by depriding them of the Subject of their mirth and laughter.