“What is the Kepars name of the house?” “Hys name is,” quoth hée, “Iohn

Smith.” “Then,” quoth I, “hée must vnderstande of thy dysease; yf thou

hadest the same for the tyme thou wast there, he knoweth it well.” “Ye,

not onely he, but all the house bée syde,” quoth this Cranke; “for I

came thens but within this fortnight.” I had stande so longe reasoning

the matter wyth him that I was a cold, and went into my chamber and

made me ready, and commaunded my seruant to repayre to bethelem, and

bringe me true worde from the keper there whether anye suche man hath

byn with him as a prisoner hauinge the dysease aforesayd, and gaue

hym a note of his name and the kepars also: my seruant, retorninge to

my lodginge, dyd assure me that neither was there euer anye such man

there, nether yet anye keper of any suche name; but hée that was there

keper, he sent me hys name in writing, afferming that hee letteth no

man depart from hym vnlesse he be fet a waye by [leaf 16] hys fréendes,

and that none that came from hym beggeth aboute the Citye. Then I sent

for the Printar of this booke, and shewed hym of this dyssembling

Cranke, and how I had sent to Bethelem to vnderstand the trouth[105],

and what aunsweare I receaued againe, requiringe hym that I might haue

some seruant of his to watche him faithfully that daye, that I might

vnderstand trustely to what place he woulde repaire at night vnto,

and thether I promised to goe my selfe to sée their order, and that

I woulde haue hym to associate me thether: hée gladly graunted to

my request, and sent two boyes, that both diligently and vygelantly

accomplisht the charge geuen them, and found the same Cranke aboute the

Temple, where about the most parte of the daye hée begged, vnlesse it

weare about xii. of the clocke he wente on the backesyde of Clementes

Ine without Temple barre: there is a lane that goeth into the Feldes;

there hee renewed his face againe wyth freshe bloud, which he caried

about hym in a bladder, and dawbed on freshe dyrte vpon his Ierken,

hat, and hoson.

¶ And so came backe agayne vnto the Temple, and sometyme to the

Watersyde, and begged of all that passed bye: the boyes behelde howe

some gaue grotes, some syxe pens, some gaue more; {54} for hée looked

so ougleie and yrksomlye, that euerye one pytied his miserable case

that beehelde hym. To bee shorte, there he passed all the daye tyll

night approched; and when it began to bée some what dark, he went to

the water syde and toke a Skoller,[106] and was sette ouer the Water

into Saincte Georges feldes, contrarye to my expectatian; for I had

thought he woulde haue gonne into Holborne or to Saynt Gylles in the

felde; but these boyes, with Argues and Lynces eyes, set sewre watche

vppon him, and the one tooke a bote and followed him, and the other

went backe to tell his maister.

[Footnote 105: _trough._ B.]

[Footnote 106: 1573 reads _skolloer_]

The boye that so folowed hym by Water, had no money to pay for his Bote

hyre, but layde his Penner and his Ynkhorne to gage for a penny; and

by that tyme the boye was sette ouer, his Maister, wyth all celeryte,

hadde taken a Bote and followed hym apase: now hadde they styll a

syght of the Cranke, wych crossed ouer the felddes towardes Newyngton,

and thether he went, and by that tyme they came thether it was very

darke: the Prynter hadde there no acquaintance, nether any kynde of

weapon about hym, nether knewe he[107] how farre the Cranke woulde

goe, becawse hee then suspected that they dogged hym of purposse; he

there stayed hym, and called for the Counstable, whyche came forthe

dylygentelye to inquyre what the matter was: thys zelous Pryntar

charged thys offycer [leaf 16, back] wyth hym as a malefactor and a

dessemblinge vagabonde—the Counstable woulde haue layde him all night

in the Cage that stode in the streate. “Naye,” saythe this pitifull

Prynter, “I praye you haue him into your house; for this is lyke to be

a cold nyght, and he is naked: you kepe a vytellinge house; let him

be well cherished this night, for he is well hable to paye for the

same. I knowe well his gaynes hath byn great to day, and your house

is a sufficient pryson for the tyme, and we wil there serche hym.”

The Counstable agreed there vnto: they had him in, and caused him to

washe him selfe: that donne, they demaunded what money he had about

hym. Sayth this Cranke, “So God helpe me, I haue but xii. pence,” and

plucked oute the same of a lytle pursse. “Why, haue you no more?” quoth

they. “No,” sayth this Cranke, “as God shall saue my soule at the day

of iudgement.” “We must se more,” quoth they,{55} and began to stryp

hym. Then he plucked out a nother purse, wherin was xi. pens. “Toushe,”

sayth[108] thys Prynter, “I must see more.” Saythe this Cranke, “I

pray God I bée dampned both body[109] and soule yf I haue anye more.”

“No,” sayth thys Prynter, “thou false knaue, here is my boye that dyd

watche thée all this daye, and sawe when such men gaue the péeses of

sixe pens, grotes, and other money; and yet thou hast shewed vs none

but small money.” When thys Cranke hard this, and the boye vowinge it

to his face, he relented, and plucked out another pursse, where in was

eyght shyllings and od money; so had they in the hole _tha_t he had

begged that day xiij. shillings iii. [110]§pens halfepeny§. Then they

strypt him starke naked, and as many as sawe him sayd they neuer sawe

hansommer man, wyth a yellowe flexen beard[111], and fayre skynned,

withoute anye spot or greffe. Then the good wyfe of the house fet her

goodmans[112] olde clocke, _and_ caused the same to be cast about him,

because the sight shoulde not abash her shamefast maydens, nether loth

her squaymysh sight.

[Footnote 107: Omitted in 1573 edit.]

++{ Thus he set[113] downe at the Chemnes end, and called for a potte

of Béere, and dranke of a quarte at a draft, and } called for another,

and so the thyrde, that one had bene sufficient for any resonable

man, the Drynke was so stronge.[114] I my selfe, the next morninge,

tasted thereof; but let the reader iudge what and howe much he would

haue dronke and he had bene out of feare. Then when they had thus

wrong water out of a flint in spoyli_n_g him of his euyl gotten goods,

his passi_n_g pens[115], _and_ fleting trashe, The printer with this

offecer were in gealy gealowsit[116], and deuised to search a barne

for some roges and vpright men, a quarter of a myle from the house,

that stode a lone in the fieldes, and wente out about their busines,

leauing this cranke alone with his wyfe and maydens: this crafty

Cra_n_ke, espying al gon, requested _th_e good wife that [leaf 17] hee

might goe out on the backesyde to make water, and to exonerate his

paunche: she bad hym drawe the lache of the dore and goe out, neither

thinkinge or mistrusting he {56} would haue gon awaye naked; but, to

conclude, when hee was out, he cast awaye the cloke, and, as naked

as euer he was borne, he ran away, [117]*that he could[118] neuer be

hard of [119]†againe.* Now† the next morning betimes, I went vnto

Newington, to vndersta_n_d what was done, because I had word or it was

day that there my printer was; and at my comming thether, I hard the

hole circumstaunce, as I aboue haue wrytten; and I, seing the matter

so fall out, tooke order with the chiefe of the parish that this xiij.

shyllings _and_ iij. [120]‡pens halfpeny‡ might the next daye be

equally distributed, by their good discrecions, to the pouertie of the

same parishe,[121] and so it was done.

[Footnote 108: _sayih_ (_sic_). B.]

[Footnote 109: printed _dody_]

[Footnote 110: §–§ _d. ob._ B.]

[Footnote 111: _bede._ B.]

[Footnote 112: _mans._ B.]

[Footnote 113: 1573 inserts _him_; _sette hym_. B.]

[Footnote 114: 1573 inserts _that_]

[Footnote 115: _pence._ B.]

[Footnote 116: The 1573 edition reads _ioly ioylitie; gelowsy_. B.]

[Footnote 117: *–* The 1573 edition finishes the sentence

thus:—“ouer the fields to his own house, as hée afterwards said.”]

[Footnote 118: _woulde._ B.]

[Footnote 119: †–† _again til now._ B.]

[Footnote 120: ‡–‡ _d. ob._ B.]

[Footnote 121: The 1573 edition continues thus:—“wherof this crafty

Cranke had part him selfe, for he had both house and wife in the

same parishe, as after you shall heare. But this lewde lewterar

could not laye his bones to labour, hauing got once the tast of

this lewd lasy lyfe, for al this fayr admonition, but deuised other

suttel sleights to maintaine his ydell liuing, and so craftely

clothed him selfe in mariners apparel, and associated him self with

an other of his companions: they hauing both mariners apparel, went

abroad to aske charity of _th_e people, fayning they hadde loste

their shippe with all their goods by casualty on the seas, wherewith

they gayned much. This crafty Cranke, fearinge to be mistrusted,

fell to another kinde of begging, as bad or worse, and apparelled

himselfe very well with a fayre black fréese cote, a new payre of

whyte hose, a fyne felt hat on his head, a shert of flaunders worke

esteemed to be worth xvi. shillings; and vpon newe yeares day came

againe into the whyt Fryers to beg: the printer, hauing occasion

to go that ways, not thinking of this Cranke, by chaunce met with

him, who asked his charitie for Gods sake. The printer, vewing him

well, did mistrust him to be the counterfet Cranke which deceuied

him vpon Alhollen daye at night, demaunded of whence he was and what

was his name, ‘Forsoth,’ saith he, ‘my name is Nicolas Genings, and

I came from Lecester to séeke worke, and I am a hat-maker by my

occupation, and all my money is spent, and if I coulde get money to

paye for my lodging this night, I would seke work to morowe amongst

the hatters.’ The printer perceiuing his depe dissimulation, putting

his hand into his purse, seeming to giue him some money, and with

fayre allusions brought him into the stréete, where he charged the

constable with him, affirminge him to be the counterfet Cranke

that ranne away vpon Alholon daye last. The constable being very

loth to medle with him, but the printer knowing him and his depe

disceit, desyred he mought be brought before the debutie of the

ward, which straight was accomplished, which whe_n_ he came before

the debuty, he demaunded of him of whence he was and what was his

name; he answered as before he did vnto _th_e printer: the debutie

asked the printer what he woulde laye vnto hys charge; he answered

and aleged him to be a vagabond and depe deceyuer of the people,

and the counterfet Crank that ran away vpon Alhallon day last from

the constable of Newington and him, and requested him earnestly

to send him to ward: the debuty thinking him to be deceiued, but

neuerthelesse laid his co_m_maundement vpon him, so that the printer

should beare his charges if he could not iustifie it; he agréed

thereunto. And so he and the constable went to cary him to the

Counter; and as they were going vnder Ludgate, this crafty Cranke

toke his héeles and ran down the hill as fast as he could dryve,

the constable and the printer after him as fast as they coulde; but

the printer of _th_e twayn being lighter of fote, ouertoke him at

fleete bridge, and with strong hand caried him to the counter, and

safely deliuered him. In _th_e morow _th_e printer sent his boy that

stripped him vpon Alhalon day at night to view him, because he would

be sure, which boy knew him very well: this Crank confessed unto

the debuty, _tha_t he had hosted the night before in Kent stréet in

Southwarke, at the sign of the Cock, which thing to be true, the

printer sente to know, and found him a lyer; but further inquiring,

at length found out his habitation, dwelling in maister Hilles

rentes, hauinge a pretye house, well stuffed, with a fayre ioyne

table, and a fayre cubbard garnished with peuter, hauing an old

auncient woman to his wyfe. The printer being sure therof, repaired

vnto the Counter, and rebuked him for his beastly behaviour, and

told him of his false fayning, willed him to confesse it, and

aske forgivenes: he perceyued him to know his depe dissimulation,

relented, and confessed all his disceit; and so remayning in the

counter thrée dayes, was removed to Brydwel, where he was strypt

starke naked, and his ougly attyre put vpo_n_ him before the

maisters thereof, who wondered greatly at his dissimulation: for

which offence he stode vpon the pillery in Cheapsyde, both in his

ougly and handsome attyre. And after that went in the myll whyle his

ougly picture was a drawing; and then was whypped at a cartes tayle

through London, and his displayd banner caried before him vnto his

own dore, and so backe to Brydewell again, and there remayned for a

tyme, and at length let at libertie, on that condicio_n_ he would

proue an honest man, and labour truly to get his liuing. And his

picture remayneth in Bridewell for a monyment.”—See, also, _post_,

p. 89.]

{57}

¶ A DOMMERAR. Cap. 12.

++THese Dommerars are leud and most subtyll people: the moste part of

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 déepe 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[122] lycence, vnder the seales and hands of certayne

worshypfull men, had[123] thought the same to be good and effectuall.

I taking the same writing, and {58} 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[124] _Chayne_, and

a seruant of my Lord Kéepers, cald _Wostestowe_, which was [leaf 17,

back] the chiefe causer of the staying of them, being a Surgien, _and_

cunning in his science, had séene the lyke practises, and, as he sayde,

hadde caused one to speake afore that was dome[125]. 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 sée 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,

hée 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 hée

speaketh by and by.” “Sir,” quoth this Surgien, “I praye you let me

practise and[126] other waye.” I was well contented to sée 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 {59} 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.

[Footnote 122: _of his._ B.]

[Footnote 123: _which priest had._ B.]

[Footnote 124: _cal-_ (_sic_). B.]

[Footnote 125: _dumme._ B.]

[Footnote 126: So printed. _an._ B.]

[Headnote: HARMON. A PRYGGE.]

¶ 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 bée 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 thrée 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, hée quicklye snappeth

the same vp, and in to the booget it goeth round. Thus they lyue with

deceite.

++{ 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. {60}

¶ 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 séeke 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.

¶ A IARKE MAN, AND A PATRICO. Cap. 15.

++FOR as much as these two names, a Iarkeman and a Patrico, bée 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[127]. 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[128], 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.

[Footnote 127: _pasportes._ B.]

[Footnote 128: _Patriarch._ B.]

{61}

¶ 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[129]

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[130] 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 shéete to lye in a nightes. The

vpright men be very familiare with these kynde of wemen, and one of

them helpes an other.

¶ 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 shée 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 séene 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[131] glymmeringe glauncer, was

presentlye pyteouslye persed to the hart, and lewdlye longed to bée

clothed vnder her lyuerye; and bestowinge [leaf 19] a {62} 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[132] he hadde no money. Yet consideringe wyth hym

selfe that wares woulde bée welcome where money wanted, hée 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 bée 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 {63} sithens one the backesyde. I hadde thought you

hadde sent him of your arrante.” “I sent him not,” quoth she; “goe,

loke him out.”

Awdeley's Fraternitye of Vacabondes, Harman's Caueat, Haben's Sermon, &c. · 第 7 / 11 段