these are Walch men, and wyll neuer speake, vnlesse they haue extreame
punishment, but wyll gape, and with a maruelous force wyll hold downe
their toungs doubled, groning for your charyty, and holding vp their
handes full pitiously, so that with their deepe dissimulation they get
very much. There are of these many, _and_ but one that I vnderstand of
hath lost his toung in dede. Hauing on a time occasion to ride to
Dartforde, to speake with a priest there, who maketh all kinde of
conserues very well, and vseth stilling of waters; And repayringe to his
house, I founde a Dommerar at his doore, and the priest him selfe
perusinge his[118] lycence, vnder the seales and hands of certayne
worshypfull men, had[119] thought the same to be good and effectuall. I
taking the same writing, and reading it ouer, and noting the seales,
founde one of the seales like vnto a seale that I had aboute me, which
seale I bought besides Charing crosse, that I was out of doubte it was
none of those Gentlemens seales that had sub[s]cribed. And hauing
vnderstanding before of their peuish practises, made me to conceaue that
all was forged and nought. I made the more hast home; for well I wyst
that he would and must of force passe through the parysh where I dwelt;
for there was no other waye for hym. And comminge homewarde, I found
them in the towne, accordinge to my expectation, where they were staid;
for there was a Pallyarde associate with the Dommerar and partaker of
his gaynes, whyche Pallyarde I sawe not at Dartford. The stayers of them
was a gentleman called[120] _Chayne_, and a seruant of my Lord Keepers,
cald _Wostestowe_, which was *[leaf 17, back]* the chiefe causer of the
staying of them, being a Surgien, _and_ cunning in his science, had
seene the lyke practises, and, as he sayde, hadde caused one to speake
afore that was dome[121]. It was my chaunce to come at the begynning of
the matter. "Syr," (quoth this Surgien) "I am bold here to vtter some
part of my cunning. I trust" (quoth he) "you shall se a myracle wrought
anon. For I once" (quoth he) "made a dumme man to speake." Quoth I, "you
are wel met, and somwhat you haue preuented me; for I had thought to
haue done no lesse or they hadde passed this towne. For I well knowe
their writing is fayned, and they depe dissemblers." The Surgien made
hym gape, _and_ we could see but halfe a toung. I required the Surgien
to put hys fynger in his mouth, _and_ to pull out his toung, and so he
dyd, not withstanding he held strongly a prety whyle; at the length he
pluckt out the same, to the great admiration of many that stode by. Yet
when we sawe his tounge, hee would neither speake nor yet could heare.
Quoth I to the Surgien, "knit two of his fyngers to gether, and thrust a
stycke betwene them, and rubbe the same vp and downe a lytle whyle, and
for my lyfe hee speaketh by and by." "Sir," quoth this Surgien, "I praye
you let me practise and[122] other waye." I was well contented to see
the same. He had him into a house, and tyed a halter aboute the wrestes
of his handes, and hoysed him vp ouer a beame, and there dyd let him
hang a good while: at _th_e length, for very paine he required for Gods
sake to let him down. So he that was both deafe and dume coulde in short
tyme both heare and speake. Then I tooke that money I could find in his
pursse, and distributed the same to the poore people dwelling there,
whiche was xv. pence halfepeny, being all that we coulde finde. That
done, and this merry myracle madly made, I sent them with my seruaunt to
the next Iusticer, where they preached on the Pyllery for want of a
Pulpet, and were well whypped, and none dyd bewayle them.
[Header: HARMAN. A PRYGGE.]
[P] A DRONKEN TINCKAR. Cap. 13.
THese dronken Tynckers, called also Prygges, be beastly people, _and_
these yong knaues be _th_e wurst. These neuer go w_i_t_h_ out their
Doxes, and yf their women haue anye thing about them, as apparell or
lynnen, that is worth the selling, they laye the same to gage, or sell
it out right, for bene bowse at their bowsing ken. And full sone wyll
they bee wearye of them, and haue a newe. When they happen one woorke at
any good house, their Doxes lynger alofe, and tarry for them in some
corner; and yf he taryeth longe from her, then she knoweth *[leaf 18]*
he hath worke, and walketh neare, and sitteth downe by him. For besydes
money, he looketh for meate and drinke for doinge his dame pleasure. For
yf she haue three or foure holes in a pan, hee wyll make as many more
for spedy gaine. And if he se any old ketle, chafer, or pewter dish
abroad in the yard where he worketh, hee quicklye snappeth the same vp,
and in to the booget it goeth round. Thus they lyue with deceite.
{[P] I was crediblye informed, by such as could well tell, that
{one of these tipling Tinckers w_i_t_h_ his dogge robbed by the
high way iiij. Pallyards and two Roges, six persons together, and tooke
from them aboue foure pound in ready money, _and_ hide him after in a
thicke woode a daye or two, and so escaped vntaken. Thus with picking
and stealing, mingled with a lytle worke for a coulour, they passe their
time.
[Header: HARMAN. A SWADDER. A IARKEMAN AND A PATRICO.]
[P] A SWADDER, OR PEDLER. Cap. 14.
THese Swadders and Pedlers bee not all euyll, but of an indifferent
behauiour. These stand in great awe of the vpright men, for they haue
often both wares and money of them. But for as much as they seeke gayne
vnlawfully against the lawes and statutes of this noble realme, they are
well worthy to be registred among the number of vacabonds; and
vndoubtedly I haue hadde some of them brought before me, when I was in
commission of the peace, as malefactors, for bryberinge and stealinge.
And nowe of late it is a greate practes of the vpright man, when he hath
gotten a botye, to bestowe the same vpon a packefull of wares, and so
goeth a time for his pleasure, because he would lyue with out suspition.
[P] A IARKE MAN, AND A PATRICO. Cap. 15.
FOR as much as these two names, a Iarkeman and a Patrico, bee in the old
briefe of vacabonds, and set forth as two kyndes of euil doers, you
shall vnderstande that a Iarkeman hathe his name of a Iarke, which is a
seale in their Language, as one should make writinges and set seales for
lycences and pasporte[123]. And for trouth there is none that goeth
aboute the countrey of them that can eyther wryte so good and fayre a
hand, either indite so learnedly, as I haue sene _and_ handeled a number
of them: but haue the same made in good townes where they come, as what
can not be hadde for money, as the prouerbe sayth ("_Omnia venalia
Rome_"), and manye hath confessed the same to me. *[leaf 18, back]* Now,
also, there is a Patrico, and not a Patriarcho[124], whiche in their
language is a priest that should make mariages tyll death dyd depart;
but they haue none such, I am well assured; for I put you out of doubt
that not one amo[n]gest a hundreth of them are maried, for they take
lechery for no sinne, but naturall fellowshyp and good lyking loue: so
that I wyll not blot my boke with these two that be not.
[Header: HARMAN. A DEMAUNDER FOR GLYMMAR.]
[P] A DEMAUNDER FOR GLYMMAR. Cap. 16.
THese Demaunders for glymmar be for the moste parte wemen; for glymmar,
in their language, is fyre. These goe with fayned[125] lycences and
counterfayted wrytings, hauing the hands and seales of suche gentlemen
as dwelleth nere to the place where they fayne them selues to haue bene
burnt, and their goods consumed with fyre. They wyll most
lamentable[126] demaunde your charitie, _and_ wyll quicklye shed salte
teares, they be so tender harted. They wyll neuer begge in that Shiere
where their losses (as they say) was. Some of these goe with slates at
their backes, which is a sheete to lye in a nightes. The vpright men be
very familiare with these kynde of wemen, and one of them helpes an
other.
[P] A Demaunder for glymmar came vnto a good towne in Kente, to aske the
charitie of the people, hauinge a fayned lycens aboute her that declared
her misfortune by fyre, donne in Somerset shyre, walkinge with a wallet
on her shoulders, where in shee put the deuotion of suche as hadde no
money to geue her; that is to saye, Malte, woll, baken, bread, and
cheese; and alwayes, as the same was full, so was it redye money to her,
when she emptyed the same, where so euer shee trauelede: thys harlot
was, as they terme it, snowte fayre, and had an vpright man or two
alwayes attendinge on her watche (whyche is on her parson), and yet so
circumspecte, that they woulde neuer bee seene in her company in any
good towne, vnlesse it were in smale vyllages where typling houses
weare, eyther trauelinge to gether by the hygh wayes; but _th_e troth
is, by report, she would wekely be worth vi. or seuen shyllinges with
her begging and bycherye. This glimmering Morte, repayringe to an Ine in
_th_e sayde towne where dwelt a wydow of fyftie wynter olde of good
welth; but she had an vnthryftye sonne, whom she vsed as a chamberlaine
to attend gestes when they repared to her house: this amerous man, be
holdinge with ardante eyes thys[127] glymmeringe glauncer, was
presentlye pyteouslye persed to the hart, and lewdlye longed to bee
clothed vnder her lyuerye; and bestowinge *[leaf 19]* a fewe fonde
wordes with her, vnderstode strayte that she woulde be easlye perswaded
to lykinge lechery, and as a man mased, mused howe to attayne to his
purpose, for[128] he hadde no money. Yet consideringe wyth hym selfe
that wares woulde bee welcome where money wanted, hee went with a
wannion to his mothers chamber, and there sekinge aboute for odde endes,
at length founde a lytle whystell of syluer that his mother dyd vse
customablye to weare on, and had forgot the same for haste that
morninge, and offeres the same closely to this manerly marian, that yf
she would mete hym on the backesyde of the towne and curteously kys him
with out constraynt, she shoulde bee mystres thereof, and it weare much
better. "Well," sayth she, "you are a wanton;" and beholdinge the
whystell, was farther in loue there with then rauysht wyth his person,
and agred to mete him presently, and to accomplyshe his fonde fancy:--to
be short, and not tedyous, a quarter of a myle from the towne, he merely
toke measure of her vnder a bawdye bushe; so she gaue hym that she had
not, and he receiued that he coulde not; and taking leue of eche other
with a curteous kysse, she plesantly passed forth one her iornaye, _and_
this vntoward lycorous chamberlayne repayred home warde. But or these
two tortylles tooke there leue, the good wyfe myssed her whystell, and
sent one of her maydenes in to her chamber for the same, and being long
sawght for, none coulde be founde; her mystres hering that, diligent
search was made for the same; and that it was taken awaye, began to
suspecte her vnblessed babe, and demaunded of her maydens whether none
of them sawe her sonne in her chamber that morning, and one of them
aunswered that she sawe him not there, but comming from thens: then had
she ynough, for well she wyste that he had the same, and sent for him,
but he could not be founde. Then she caused her hosteler, in whome she
had better affyaunce in for his trouth,--and yet not one amongst twenty
of them but haue well left there honesty, (As I here a great sorte
saye)--to come vnto her, whiche attended to knowe her pleasure. "Goe,
seke out," saythe she, "my vntowarde sonne, and byd hym come speake with
me." "I sawe him go out," saythe he, "halfe an houre sithens one the
backesyde. I hadde thought you hadde sent him of your arrante." "I sent
him not," quoth she; "goe, loke him out."
[P] This hollowe hosteler toke his staffe in his necke, and trodged out
apase that waye he sawe him before go, and had some vnderstanding, by
one of the maydens, that his mistres had her whistell stolen _and_
suspected her sonne; and he had not gone farre but that he espyed him
comming homeward alone, and, meting him, axed where he had ben. *[leaf
19, back]* "Where haue I bene?" q_uoth_ he, and began to smyle. "Now, by
the mas, thou hast bene at some baudy banquet." "Thou hast euen tolde
trouth," q_uoth_ thys chamberlayne. "Sewerly," q_uoth_ this hosteler,
"thou haddest the same woman that begged at our house to day, for _th_e
harmes she had by fyre: where is she?" q_uoth_ he. "She is almost a myle
by this tyme," q_uoth_ this chamberlayne. "Where is my mystres
whystell?" quoth this hosteler; "for I am well assured that thou haddest
it, and I feare me thou hast geuen it to that harlot." "Why! is it
myssed?" _quoth_ this chamberlayne. "Yea," q_uoth_ this hosteler, and
shewed him all the hole circumstaunce, what was both sayde and thought
on him for the thing. "Well, I wyl tell the," quoth this Chamberlayne.
"I wylbe playne with the. I had it in dede, and haue geue_n_ the same to
this woman, and I praye the make the best of it, and helpe nowe to
excuse the matter, and yet surely and thou wouldest take so much payne
for me as to ouer take her, (for she goeth but softly, and is not yet
farre of) and take the same from her, and I am euer thyne assured
freende." "Why, then, go with me," quoth this hostler. "Nay, in faythe,"
quoth this Chamberlayne; "what is frear then gift? and I hadde prety
pastime for the same." "Hadest thou so?" quoth this hosteler; "nowe, by
the masse, and I wyll haue some to, or I wyll lye in the duste or I come
agayne." Passing with hast to ouer take this paramoure, within a myle
fro_m_ _th_e place where he departed he ouertoke her, hauing an vpright
man in her company, a stronge and a sturdye vacabond: some what amased
was this hosteler to se one familiarly in her company, for he had well
hopped to haue had some delycate dalyance, as his fellowe hadde; but,
seinge the matter so fallout, and being of good corage, and thinking to
him selfe that one true man was better then two false knaues, and being
on the high way, thought vpon helpe, if nede had bene, by such as had
passed to and fro, Demaunded fersely the whistell that she had euyn nowe
of his fellowe. "Why, husband," quoth she, "can you suffer this wretche
to slaunder your wyfe?" "A vaunt verlet," quoth this vpright man, and
letes dryue with all his force at this hosteler, and after halfe[129] a
dosen blowes, he strycks his staffe out of his hande, and as this
hosteler stept backe to haue taken vp his staffe agayne, his glymmeringe
Morte flinges a great stone at him, and strake him one the heade that
downe hee fales, wyth the bloud about his eares, and whyle hee laye this
amased, the vpright man snatches awaye his pursse, where in hee hadde
money of his mystresses as well as of his owne, and there let him lye,
and went a waye with spede that they were neuer harde of more. When this
drye beaten hosteler was come to him selfe, hee fayntlye wandereth home,
and crepethe in to hys couche, and restes *[leaf 20]* his ydle heade:
his mystres harde that hee was come in, and layde him downe on his
beade, repayred straight vnto him, and aske hym what he ayled, and what
the cause was of his so sudden lying one his bed. "What is the cause?"
quoth this hosteler; "your whystell, your whistel,"--speaking the same
pyteouslye thre or foure tymes. "Why, fole," quoth his mystrisse, "take
no care for that, for I doe not greatly waye it; it was worth but three
shyllinges foure pens." "I would it had bene burnt for foure yeares
agon." "I praye the why so," quoth his mystres; "I think thou art mad."
"Nay, not yet," quoth this hosteler, "but I haue bene madly handlyd."
"Why, what is the matter?" quoth his mystres, and was more desirous to
know the case. "_And_ you wyl for geue my fellowe and me, I wyll shewe
you, or els I wyll neuer doe it." Shee made hym presently faithfull
promisse that shee woulde. "Then," saythe hee, "sende for your sonne
home agayne, whyche is ashamed to loke you in the face." "I agre there
to," sayth shee "Well, then," quoth this hosteler, "youre sonne hathe
geuen the same Morte that begged here, for the burninge of her house, a
whystell, and you haue geuen her v. shyllinges in money, and I haue
geuen her ten shyllinges of my owne." "Why, howe so?" quoth she. Then he
sadly shewed her of his myshap, with all the circumstaunce that you haue
harde before, and howe hys pursse was taken awaye, and xv. shyllinges in
the same, where of v. shyllinges was her money and x. shyllinges his
owne money. "Is this true?" quoth his mystres. "I, by my trouth," quoth
this hosteler, "and nothing greues me so much, neyther my beating,
neither the losse of my money, as doth my euell _and_ wreched lucke."
"Why, what is the matter?" quoth his mystres. "Your sonne," saythe this
hosteler, "had some chere and pastyme for that whystell, for he laye
with her, and I haue bene well beaten, and haue had my pursse taken from
me, and you knowe your sonne is merrye and pleasaunt, and can kepe no
great councell; and then shall I bemocked _and_ loughed to skorne in all
places when they shall here howe I haue bene serued." "Nowe, out vpon
you knaues both," quoth his mystres, and laughes oute the matter; for
she well sawe it would not other wyse preuayle.
[Header: HARMAN. A BAWDY BASKET.]
[P] A BAWDY BASKET. Cap. 17.
THese Bawdy baskets be also wemen, and go with baskets and Capcases on
their armes, where in they haue laces, pynnes, nedles, white ynkell, and
round sylke gyrdles of al coulours. These wyl bye co_n_neyski_n_s,[130]
_and_ steale line_n_ clothes of on hedges. And for their trifles they
wil procure of mayden seruaunts, whe_n_ *[leaf 20, back]* their mystres
or dame is oute of the waye, either some good peece of beefe, baken, or
cheese, that shalbe worth xij. pens, for ii. pens of their toyes. And as
they walke by the waye, they often gaine some money wyth their
instrument, by such as they sodaynely mete withall. The vpright men haue
good acquayntance with these, and will helpe and relieue them when they
want. Thus they trade their lyues in lewed lothsome lechery. Amongest
them all is but one honest woman, and she is of good yeares; her name is
Ione Messenger. I haue had good proofe of her, as I haue learned by the
true report of diuers.
{There came to my gate the last sommer, Anno Domini .1566,
{a very miserable man, and much deformed, as burnt in the
face, blere eyde, and lame of one of his legges that he went with a
crouche. I axed him wher he was borne, and where he dwelt last, and
shewed him that thether he must repaire and be releued, and not to range
aboute the countrey; and seing some cause of cherytie, I caused him to
haue meate and drinke, and when he had dronke, I demaunded of him
whether he was neuer spoyled of the vpright man or Roge. "Yes, that I
haue," quoth he, "and not this seuen yeres, for so long I haue gon
abroad, I had not so much taken from me, and so euyll handeled, as I was
w_i_th_i_n these iiij. dayes." "Why, how so?" quoth I. "In good fayth,
sir," quoth hee, "I chaunced to meete with one of these bawdy baskets
which had an vpright man in her company, and as I would haue passed
quietly by her, 'man,' sayth she vnto vnto her make, 'do you not se this
ylfauored, windshake_n_ knaue?' 'Yes,' quoth the vpright man; 'what saye
you to him?' 'this knaue[131] oweth me ii. shyllings for wares that[132]
he had of me, halfe a yere a go, I think it well.' Sayth this vpright
man, 'syra,' sayth he, 'paye your dets.' Sayth this poore man, 'I owe
her none, nether dyd I euer bargane with her for any thinge, and as
this[133] aduysed I neuer sawe her before in all my lyfe.' 'Mercy, god!'
quoth she, 'what a lyinge knaue is this, and he wil not paye you,
husband, beat him suerly,' and the vpright man gaue me thre or foure
blowes on my backe and shoulders, and would haue beat me worsse and I
had not geuen hym all the money in my pursse, and in good fayth, for
very feare, I was fayne to geue him xiiij. pens, which was all the money
that I had. 'Why,' sayth this bawdy basket, 'hast thou no more? then
thou owest me ten pens styll; and, be well assured that I wyll bee payde
the next tyme I meete with thee.' And so they let me passe by them. I
praye god saue and blesse me, and al other in my case, from such wycked
persons," quoth this poore man. "Why, whether went they then?" quoth I.
"Into east Kent, for I mete with them on thyssyde of Rochester. I haue
dyuers tymes bene attemted, but I neuer loste *[leaf 21]* much before.
I thanke god, there came styll company by a fore this vnhappy time."
"Well," quoth I, "thanke God of all, and repaire home into thy natyue
countrey."
[Header: HARMAN. A AUTEM MORT. A WALKING MORT.]
[P] A AUTEM MORT. Cap. 18.
THese Autem Mortes be maried wemen, as there be but a fewe. For Autem in
their Language is a Churche; so she is a wyfe maried at the Church, and
they be as chaste as a Cowe I haue, _tha_t goeth to Bull euery moone,
with what Bull she careth not. These walke most times from their
husbands companye a moneth and more to gether, being asociate with
another as honest as her selfe. These wyll pylfar clothes of hedges:
some of them go with children of ten or xii. yeares of age; yf tyme and
place serue for their purpose, they wyll send them into some house, at
the window, to steale and robbe, which they call in their language,
Milling of the ken; and wil go w_i_t_h_ wallets on their shoulders, and
slates at their backes. There is one of these Autem Mortes, she is now a
widow, of fyfty yeres old; her name is Alice Milson: she goeth about
with a couple of great boyes, the yongest of them is fast vpon xx.
yeares of age; and these two do lye with her euery night, and she lyeth
in the middes: she sayth that they be her children, that beteled be
babes borne of such abhominable bellye.
[P] A WALKING MORT. Cap. 19.
THese walkinge Mortes bee not maryed: these for their vnhappye yeares
doth go as a Autem Morte, and wyll saye their husbandes died eyther at
Newhauen, Ireland, or in some seruice of the Prince. These make laces
vpon staues, _and_ purses, that they cary in their hands, and whyte
vallance for beddes. Manye of these hath hadde and haue chyldren: when
these get ought, either with begging, bychery, or brybery, as money or
apparell, they are quickly shaken out of all by the vpright men, that
they are in a maruelous feare to cary any thinge aboute them that is of
any valure. Where fore, this pollicye they vse, they leaue their money
now with one and then with a nother trustye housholders, eyther with the
good man or good wyfe, some tyme in one shiere, and then in another, as
they trauell: this haue I knowne, _tha_t iiij. or v. shyllinges, yea x.
shyllinges, lefte in a place, and the same wyll they come for againe
within one quarter of a yeare, or some tyme not in halfe a yeare; and
all this is to lytle purpose, for all their peuyshe *[leaf 21, back]*
pollycy; for when they bye them lynnen or garmentse, it is taken awaye
from them, and worsse geuen them, or none at all.
[Header: HARMAN. A WALKING MORT.]