CHAPTER IIII

How a Gallant should behaue himselfe in Powles walkes.

BEING weary with sayling vp and downe alongst these

shores of _Barbaria_, heere let vs cast our anchors, and

nimbly leape to land in our coasts, whose fresh aire

shall be so much the more pleasing to vs, if the _Ninny

hammer_ (whose perfection we labour to set forth)

haue so much foolish wit left him as to choose the

place where to sucke in: for that true humorous

Gallant that desires to powre himselfe into all fashions

(if his ambition be such to excell euen Complement

itselfe) must as well practise to diminish his walkes,

as to bee various in his sallets, curious in his Tobacco,

or ingenious in the trussing vp of a new Scotch-hose:

/ All which vertues are excellent and able to maintaine

him, especially if the old worme-eaten Farmer (his

father) bee dead, and left him fiue hundred a yeare,

onely to keepe an Irish hobby, an Irish horse-boy, and

himselfe (like a gentleman). Hee therefore that

would striue to fashion his leggs to his silke stockins,

and his proud gate to his broad garters, let him whiffe

downe these obseruations; for, if he once get to

walke by the booke (and I see no reason but he may,

as well as fight by the booke) Powles may be proud

of him, _Will Clarke_ shall ring forth _Encomiums_ in

his honour, Iohn in Powles _Church-yard_, shall fit his

head for an excellent blocke, whilest all the Innes of

Court reioyce to behold his most hansome calfe.

Your Mediterranean Ile, is then the onely gallery,

wherein the pictures of all your true fashionate and

complementall _Guls_ are, and ought to be hung vp:

into that gallery carry your neat body, but take heede

you pick out such an hour when the maine Shoale

of Ilanders are swimming vp and downe. And first

obserue your doores of entrance, and your _Exit_, not

much vnlike the plaiers at the Theaters, keeping your

_Decorums_, euen in phantasticality. As for example:

if you proue to be a _Northerne_ Gentleman, I would

wish you to passe through the North doore, more

often (especially) then any of the other: and so,

according to your countries, take note of your

entrances.

Now for your venturing into the Walke, be circumspect

and wary what piller you come in at, and take

heede in any case (as you loue the reputation of your

honour) that you auoide the _Seruing-mans_ logg, and

approch not within fiue fadom of that Piller; but

bend your course directly in the middle line, that the

whole body of the Church may appeare to be yours;

where, in view of all, you may publish your suit in

what manner you affect most, either with the slide of

your cloake from the one shoulder, and then you

must (as twere in anger) suddenly snatch at the

middle of the inside (if it be taffata at the least) and

so by that meanes your costly lining is betrayd, or

else by the pretty aduantage of Complement. But

one note by the way do I especially wooe you to, the

neglect of which makes many of our Gallants cheape

and ordinary, that by no meanes you be seene aboue

foure turnes; but in the fift make your selfe away,

either in some of the / Sempsters' shops, the new

Tobacco-office, or amongst the Booke-sellers, where,

if you cannot reade, exercise your smoake, and inquire

who has writ against this diuine weede, &c.

For this withdrawing your selfe a little, will much

benefite your suit, which else, by too long walking,

would be stale to the whole spectators: but howsoeuer

if Powles Jacks bee once vp with their

elbowes, and quarrelling to strike eleuen, as soone as

euer the clock has parted them, and ended the fray

with his hammer, let not the Dukes gallery conteyne

you any longer, but passe away apace in open view.

In which departure, if by chance you either encounter,

or aloofe off throw your inquisitiue eye vpon any

knight or Squire, being your familiar, salute him not

by his name of Sir such a one, or so, but call him

_Ned_, or _Jack_, &c. This will set off your estimation

with great men: and if (tho there be a dozen companies

betweene you, tis the better) hee call aloud to

you (for thats most gentile), to know where he shall

find you at two a clock, tell him at such an Ordinary,

or such, and bee sure to name those that are deerest:

and whither none but your Gallants resort. After

dinner you may appeare againe, hauing translated

yourselfe out of your English cloth cloak, into a light

Turky-grogram (if you haue that happinesse of shifting)

and then be seene (for a turne or two) to correct

your teeth with some quill or siluer instrument, and

to cleanse your gummes with a wrought handkercher:

It skilles not whether you dinde or no (thats best

knowne to your stomach) or in what place you dinde,

though it were with cheese (of your owne mother's

making) in your chamber or study.

Now if you chance to be a Gallant not much crost

among Citizens, that is, a Gallant in the Mercers

bookes, exalted for Sattens and veluets, if you be not

so much blest to bee crost as I hold it the greatest

blessing in the world, to bee great in no mans

bookes) your Powles walke is your onely refuge: the

Dukes Tomb is a Sanctuary, and will keepe you aliue

from wormes and land-rattes, that long to be feeding

on your carkas: there you may spend your legs in

winter a whole after-noone: conuerse, plot, laugh,

and talke any thing, iest at your Creditor, euen to

his face, and in the euening, euen by lamp-light,

steale out, and so cozen a whole couy of abhominable

catch-pols. Neuer / be seene to mount the steppes

into the quire, but vpon a high Festiuall day, to

preferre the fashion of your doublet, and especially

if the singing-boyes seeme to take note of you: for

they are able to buzze your praises aboue their

_Anthems_, if their voyces haue not lost their maiden-heads:

but be sure your siluer spurres dog your

heeles, and then the Boyes will swarme about you

like so many white butter-flyes, when you in the open

Quire shall drawe forth a perfumed embrodred purse

(the glorious sight of which will entice many Countrymen

from their deuotion to wondering) and quoyt

siluer into the Boyes handes, that it may be heard

aboue the first lesson, although it be reade in a voyce

as big as one of the great Organs.

This noble and notable Act being performed, you

are to vanish presently out of the Quire, and to

appeare againe in the walk: But in any wise be not

obserued to tread there long alone: for feare you be

suspected to be a Gallant casheerd from the society

of _Captens_ and _Fighters_.

Sucke this humour vp especially. Put off to

none, vnlesse his hatband be of a newer fashion then

yours, and three degrees quainter: but for him that

weares a trebled cipers about his hatte (though he

were an Aldermans sonne) neuer moue to him: for

hees suspected to be worse then a _Gull_, and not

worth the putting off to, that cannot obserue the

time of his hatband, nor know what fashioned block

is most kin to his head: for, in my opinion, ye

braine that cannot choose his Felt well (being the

head ornament) must needes powre folly into all the

rest of the members, and be an absolute confirmed

Foole in _Summâ Totali_.

All the diseased horses in a tedious siege cannot

shew so many fashions, as are to be seene for nothing,

euery day, in Duke _Humfryes walke_. If therefore

you determine to enter into a new suit, warne your

Tailor to attend you in Powles, who, with his hat in

his hand, shall like a spy discouer the stuffe, colour,

and fashion of any doublet, or hose that dare be seene

there, and stepping behind a piller to fill his table-bookes

with those notes, will presently send you into

the world an accomplisht man: by which meanes you

shall weare your clothes in print with the first edition.

But / if Fortune fauour you so much as to make you

no more then a meere country gentleman, or but

some three degrees remoud from him (for which I

should be very sorie, because your London-experience

wil cost you deere before you shall haue ye wit to

know what you are) then take this lesson along with

you: The first time that you venture into Powles,

passe through the body of the Church like a Porter,

yet presume not to fetch so much as one whole turne

in the middle Ile, no nor to cast an eye to _Si quis_

doore (pasted and plaistered vp with Seruing-mens

_supplications_) before you haue paid tribute to the top

of Powles _steeple_ with a single penny: And when you

are mounted there, take heede how you looke downe

into the yard; for the railes are as rotten as your

great-Grandfather; and thereupon it will not be

amisse if you enquire how _Kit Woodroffe_ durst vault

ouer, and what reason he had for it, to put his necke

in hazard of reparations. From hence you may

descend, to talke about the horse that went vp, and

striue, if you can, to know his keeper: take the day

of the Moneth, and the number of the steppes, and

suffer yourselfe to belieue verily that it was not a

horse, but something else in the likenesse of one:

which wonders you may publish, when you returne

into the country, to the great amazement of all

Farmers Daughters, that will almost swound at the

report, and neuer recouer till their banes bee asked

twice in the Church.

But I haue not left you yet. Before you come

downe againe, I would desire you to draw your knife,

and graue your name (or, for want of a name, the

marke, which you clap on your sheep) in great

Characters vpon the leades, by a number of your

brethren (both Citizens and country Gentlemen), and

so you shall be sure to haue your name lye in a

coffin of lead, when yourselfe shall be wrapt in a

winding-sheete: and indeed the top of Powles conteins

more names then _Stowes_ Chronicle. These

lofty tricks being plaid, and you (thanks to your

feete) being safely ariued at the staires foote againe,

your next worthy worke is, to repaire to my lord

_Chancellors Tomb_ (and, if you can but reasonably

bestow some time vpon ye reading of Sir

_Phillip Sydneyes_ briefe Epitaph; in the compasse of

an houre you may make shift to stumble it out. The

great dyal is, your last monument: there bestow /

some halfe of the threescore minutes, to obserue the

sawciness of the Jaikes that are aboue the man in

the moone there; the strangenesse of the motion will

quit your labour. Besides, you may heere haue fit

occasion to discouer your watch, by taking it forth,

and setting the wheeles to the time of Powles, which,

I assure you, goes truer by fiue notes then S. _Sepulchers_

Chimes. The benefit that wil arise from hence is

this, that you publish your charge in maintaining a

gilded clocke; and withall the world shall know that

you are a time-pleaser. By this I imagine you haue

walkt your belly ful, and thereupon being weary, or

(which rather I beleeue) being most Gentlemanlike

hungry, it is fit that I brought you into the Duke; so

(because he followes the fashion of great men, in

keeping no house, and that therefore you must go

seeke your dinner) suffer me to take you by the hand,

and lead you into an Ordinary.

Elizabethan & Jacobean Pamphlets · 第 4 / 8 章