Printed for _F. Coles_, _T. Vere_, _J. Wright_, _J. Clarke_, _W.
Thackeray_, and _T. Passinger_.
[Footnote 218: Used as a term of contempt for a publican,
_taplash_ being very small beer, or the refuse of the casks.]
[105.] _Scogin_ on a time had two eggs to his breakefast, and _Jacke_
his scholler should rost them, and as they were rosting, _Scogin_ went
to the fire to warme him, and as the eggs were rosting _Jacke_ said,
Sir, I can by sophistry prove that here be three Eggs. Let me see
that, said _Scogin_. I shall tell you, sir, said Jacke: Is not here
one? Yes, said _Scogin_. And is not here two, said _Jacke_? Yea, said
_Scogin_, of that I am sure. Then _Jacke_ did tell the first egge
againe, saying, is not this the third? O said _Scogin_, _Jacke_ thou
art a good sophister. Wel, said _Scogin_, these two eggs shal serve me
for my break fast, and take thou the third for thy labour, and for the
herring that thou didst give mee the last day. So one goode turne doth
aske another, and to deceive him that goeth about to deceive, is no
deceit.
[94.] A Gentleman Hawk'd in another mans ground, to which the surly
owner shew'd himself angry; at which the Gentleman spet in his face.
What is your reason for that? said the Farmer. I cry you mercy, said
the Gentleman, I gave you warning, for I hawked before I spet.
[67.] A Scholar traveyling, and having noe money, call'd at an
Alehouse, and ask'd for a penny loafe, then gave his hostesse it
againe, for a pot of ale; and having drunke it of, was going away. The
woman demanded a penny of him. For what? saies he. Shee answers, for
y^e ale. Quoth hee, I gave you y^e loafe for it. Then, said she, pay
for y^e loafe. Quoth hee, had you it not againe? which put y^e woman
to a _non plus_, that y^e scholar went free away.
[93.] _George_ (_Peele_) lying at an old Widdowes house, and had gone
on so farre on the Score, that his credit would stretch no further:
for she had made a vow not to depart with drinke or victuals without
ready money. Which _George_ seeing the fury of his froward Hostis, in
griefe kept his Chamber; called to his Hostis and told her, she
should understand that he was not without money, how poorely soever he
appeared to her, and that my diet shall testifie: in the meane time,
good Hostis, quoth he, send for such a friend of mine. Shee did:
so his friend came: to whom _George_ imparted his mind; the effect
whereof was this, to pawne his Cloake, Hose and Doublet, unknowne
to his Hostis: for, quoth _George_ this seven nights doe I intend to
keepe my bed. (Truly hee spake, for his intent was that the bed
should not keepe him any longer). Away goes he to pawne his apparell;
_George_ bespeakes good cheere to supper, which was no shamble butcher
stuffe, but according to the place; for, his Chamber being remote
from the house, at the end of the Garden, his apparell being gone, it
appeared to him as the Counter; therefore to comfort himselfe he dealt
in Poultrie. His friend brought the money, supped with him: his Hostis
hee very liberally payed, but cavelled with her at her unkindnesse:
vowing that while he lay there, none should attend him but his friend.
The Hostis reply'd, A God's name, she was well contented with it: so
was _George_ too: for none knew better than himselfe what he intended;
but in briefe thus he used his kinde Hostis. After his Apparell and
Money was gone, hee made bolde with the feather bed hee lay on, which
his friend-ship convey'd away, having as villanous a Wolfe in his
belly as _George_, though not altogether so wise; for that feather
bed they devoured in two daies, feathers and all, which was no sooner
digested, but away went the Coverlet, Sheetes and the Blancket; and at
the last dinner, when _George's_ good friend perceiving nothing left
but the bed-cords, as the Devill would have it, straight came into his
mind the fashion of a halter; the foolish kind knave would needs fetch
a quart of sacke for his friend _George_; which Sacke to this day
never saw Vintners Cellar; and so he left _George_ in a cold chamber,
a thin shirt, a ravished bed, no comfort left him, but the bare bones
of deceased Capons. In this distresse, George bethought him what he
might doe; nothing was left him; and as his eye wandred up and downe
the empty Chamber, by chance he spied out an old Armour; at which
sight George was the joyfullest man in Christendome; for the Armour of
Achilles, that Ulysses and Ajax strove for, was not more precious to
them, than this to him: for hee presently claps it upon his backe, the
Halbert in his hand, the Moryon on his head, and so gets out the backe
way, marches from Shorditch to Clarkenwell, to the no small wonder of
those spectators that beheld him. Being arrived to the wished haven
he would be, an old acquaintance of his furnished him with an old Sute
and an old Cloake for his old Armour.
A Lawier being sicke and extreame ill, [102.]
Was mooved by his friends to make his will,
For they with one consent resolved all;
He never more would see Westminster Hall.
Hee feeling in himselfe his end was neere,
Unto their counsell did encline his eare;
And absolute gave all the wealth he had
To franticke persons, lunaticke and mad,
To no man else he would a pennie give,
But only such as doe in _Bedlem_ live.
This caused his friends most strangely to admire,
And some of them his reason did require?
Quoth he, my reason to you I'le reveale:
That you may see with equitie I deale.
From mad mens hands I did my wealth receave,
Therefore that wealth to madmens hands I leave.
[110.] Not farre from maister _Hobsons_ house, there dwelled one of
those cunning men, otherwise called fortune tellers, such
cossoning[F. 219] companions, as at this day, (by their Crafts) make
simple women beleeve how they can tell what husbands they shall have,
how many children, how many sweetharts, and such like: if goods bee
stole, who hath them, with promise to helpe them to their losses
againe; with many other like deceiptfull elusions. To this wise man
(as some termes him) goes maister _Hobson_, not to reap any benefit
by his crafty cunning, but to make a Jest, and tryall of his
experience, so, causing one of his servants to lead a masty[F. 220]
dog after him, staying at the Cuning mans doore with the dog in his
hand, up goes master _Hobson_ to y^e wise man, requesting his skil,
for he had lost ten pound lately taken from him by theeves, but when
and how he knew not well. The cunning man knowing maister _Hobson_
to be one of his neighbors, and a man of a good reputation, fell (as
he made showe) to conjuring and casting of figures, and after a few
words of incantation, as his common use was, hee tooke a very large
faire looking glasse, and bad Maister _Hobson_ to looke in the same,
but not to cast his eyes backward in any Case; the which hee did,
and therein saw the picture of a huge and large oxe with two broad
hornes on his head, the which was no otherwise, but as hee had often
deceitfully shewd to others, a cossoning fellow like the cunning man
himselfe, clothed in an oxe hide, which fellow he maintained as his
servant, to blinde the peoples eyes withall, and to make them
beleeve hee could shew them the Divill at his pleasure in a glasse:
this vision maister _Hobson_ perceving, & gessing at the knavery
thereof, gave a whistle for his dog, which then stayed below at the
doore, in his man's keeping, which whistle being no sooner hard but
the dog ran up the stayers to his maister, as hee had beene mad,
and presently fastned upon the poor fellow in the oxe hide, and so
tore him as it was pittifull to see. The Cunning man cried for the
passion of God take off your dog. No, (quoth Maister _Hobson_) let
the Divill and the Dogge fight, venture thou thy divill, and I will
venture my dog. To conclude, the oxe hide was torne from the fellows
backe, and so their knaveryes were discovered, and their cunning
shifts layd open to the world.
[Footnote 219: Cozening, cheating.]
[Footnote 220: Mastiff.]
[94.] A Country fellow going down _Ludgate Hill_, his heels by chance
slipping from him, fell upon his Breech: one standing by, told him
that _London_ Streets were stout and scornful: It may be so, quoth he,
yet I made them to kisse my Breech, as stout as they were.