By Author [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Title [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Language
all Classics books content using ISYS

Download this book: [ ASCII | HTML | PDF ]

Look for this book on Amazon

We have new books nearly every day.
If you would like a news letter once a week or once a month
fill out this form and we will give you a summary of the books for that week or month by email.

Title: The Rogues and Vagabonds of Shakespeare's Youth - Awdeley's 'Fraternitye of vacabondes' and Harman's 'Caveat'
Author: Awdeley, John, Harman, Thomas T.
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.

*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Rogues and Vagabonds of Shakespeare's Youth - Awdeley's 'Fraternitye of vacabondes' and Harman's 'Caveat'" ***

Transcriber's Notes:

Variable, archaic or unusual spelling and punctuation have been retained
apart from minor punctuation inconsistencies which have been silently
corrected. An Errata list can be found at the end of the book. Footnotes
were sequentially numbered and placed at the end of each section. The
page headers of the book are presented as [Header] and, where possible,
have been placed so as not to disrupt the reading flow.

The two texts of Parson Haben's or Hyberdyne's _Sermon in Praise of
Thieves and Thievery_ are printed on opposite pages. Here each text is
shown individually.

For this text version, text in superscript is placed within {curly
brackets} preceded by a carat character like ^{this}. Diacritical marks
that cannot be represented in plain text are shown in the following

  [l~l] ll with a tilde through them
  [n)] n with a ) attached to the right side
  [=u] u with macron
  [=n] n with macron

  Mark up: _italics_
           =blackletter typeface (Gothic)=
           *smaller font*









  =Preface=                                                            i

  AWDELEY'S _Fraternitye_, not plagiarized from, but published 'a fewe
  yeares' before, Harman's _Caueat_                                    i

  HARMAN'S _Caueat_: two states of the 2nd edition. The latter, now called
  the 3rd edition, is reprinted here                                   v

  Piraters from Harman: Bynnyman, and G. Dewes                        vi

  Short account of Thomas Harman                                     vii

  HARRISON'S quotation of Harman, and his account of English Vagabonds,
  and the punishments for them                                        xi

  _The Groundworke of Conny-catching_ is a reprint of Harman's _Caueat_,
  with an Introduction                                               xiv

  DEKKER'S _Belman of London_: its borrowings from Harman            xiv

  S. ROWLANDS'S _Martin Mark-all_ shows up Dekker, and has new Cant words

  DEKKER'S _Lanthorn and Candle-light_ borrows from Harman: Canting Song
  from it                                                            xix

  _The Caterpillers of this Nation anatomized_                       xxi

  _A Warning for Housebreakers_                                      xxi

  _Street Robberies consider'd_                                     xxii

  Parson HABEN'S or HYBERDYNE'S _Sermon in Praise of Thieves and Thievery_

  Shares in the present work                                        xxiv

  1. =Awdeley's fraternitye of Vacabondes=, _with_ the =.xxv. Orders of
  Knaues= (p. 12-16)                                                1-16

  2. =Harman's Caueat or Warrening for Commen Cvrsetors vulgarely called
  Vagabones=                                                       17-91

  3. =Parson Haben's (or Hyberdyne's) Sermon in Praise of Thieves and
  Thievery=                                                        92-95

  4. =The Groundwork of Conny-catching=: those parts that are not reprinted
  from Harman's _Caueat_                                          96-103

  5. =Notes=                                                     103-107

  6. =Index=                                                     108-116


IF the ways and slang of Vagabonds and Beggars interested Martin Luther
enough to make him write a preface to the _Liber Vagatorum_[1] in 1528,
two of the ungodly may be excused for caring, in 1869, for the old
Rogues of their English land, and for putting together three of the
earliest tracts about them. Moreover, these tracts are part of the
illustrative matter that we want round our great book on Elizabethan
England, Harrison's _Description of Britain_, and the chief of them is
quoted by the excellent parson who wrote that book.

The first of these three tracts, Awdeley's _Fraternitye of Vacabondes_,
has been treated by many hasty bibliographers, who can never have taken
the trouble to read the first three leaves of Harman's book, as later
than, and a mere pilfering from, Harman's _Caueat_. No such accusation,
however, did Harman himself bring against the worthy printer-author
(herein like printer-author Crowley, though he was preacher too,) who
preceded him. In his Epistle dedicatory to the Countes of Shrewsbury, p.
20, below, Harman, after speaking of 'these wyly wanderers,' vagabonds,
says in 1566 or 1567,

    There was _a fewe yeares since_ a small bréefe setforth of some
    zelous man to his countrey,--of whom I knowe not,--that made a lytle
    shewe of there names and vsage, and gaue a glymsinge lyghte, not
    sufficient to perswade of their peuishe peltinge and pickinge
    practyses, but well worthy of prayse.


This description of the 'small bréefe,' and the 'lytle shewe' of the
'names and vsage,' exactly suits Awdeley's tract; and the 'fewe yeares
since' also suits the date of what may be safely assumed to be the first
edition of the _Fraternitye_, by John Awdeley or John Sampson, or
Sampson Awdeley,--for by all these names, says Mr Payne Collier, was our
one man known:--

    It may be disputed whether this printer's name were really Sampson,
    or Awdeley: he was made free of the Stationers' Company as Sampson,
    and so he is most frequently termed towards the commencement of the
    Register; but he certainly wrote and printed his name Awdeley or
    Awdelay; now and then it stands in the Register 'Sampson Awdeley.'
    It is the more important to settle the point, because ... he was not
    only a printer, but a versifier,[2] and ought to have been included
    by Ritson in his _Bibliographica Poetica_. (Registers of the
    Stationers' Company, A.D. 1848, vol. i. p. 23.)

These verses of Awdeley's, or Sampson's, no doubt led to his 'small
bréefe' being entered in the Stationers' Register as a 'ballett':

  "1560-1. Rd. of John Sampson, for his lycense for pryntinge of a
  ballett called the description of vakaboundes ... iiij^{d}.

    "[This entry seems to refer to an early edition of a very curious
    work, printed again by Sampson, alias Awdeley, in 1565, when it bore
    the following title, 'The fraternitie of vacabondes, as well of
    rufling vacabones as of beggerly, [3]as well of women as of men,
    [3]and as well of gyrles as of boyes, with their proper names and
    qualityes. Also the xxv. orders of knaves, otherwise called a
    quartten of knawes. Confirmed this yere by Cocke Lorel.' The edition
    without date mentioned by Dibdin (iv. 564) may have been that of the
    entry. Another impression by Awdeley, dated 1575 [which we reprint]
    is reviewed in the _British Bibliographer_, ii. 12, where it is
    asserted (as is very probable, though we are without distinct
    evidence of the fact) that the printer was the compiler of the book,
    and he certainly introduces it by three six-line stanzas. If this
    work came out originally in 1561, according to the entry, there is
    no doubt that it was the precursor of a very singular series of
    tracts on the same subject, which will be noticed in their proper
    places.]"--J. P. Collier, _Registers_, i. 42.

As above said, I take Harman's 'fewe yeares'--in 1566 or 7--to point to
the 1561 edition of Awdeley, and not the 1565 ed. And as to Awdeley's
authorship,--what can be more express than his own words, p. 2, below,
that what the Vagabond caught at a Session confest as to 'both names and
states of most and least of this their Vacabondes brotherhood,'
_that_,--'at the request of a worshipful man, I ['The Printer,' that is,
John Awdeley] have set it forth as well as I can.'

But if a doubt on Awdeley's priority to Harman exists in any reader's
mind, let him consider this second reference by Harman to Awdeley (p.
60, below), not noticed by the bibliographers: "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 hath his name of a _Iarke, which is a seale in their Language_,
as one should _make writinges and set seales for lycences_ and
pasporte," and then turn to Awdeley's _Fraternitye of Vacabondes_, and
there see, at page 5, below:

    ¶ A IACK MAN.

    A Iackeman is he that can write and reade, and sometime speake
    latin. He vseth _to make counterfaite licences_ which they call
    Gybes, _and sets to Seales, in their language called Iarkes_. (See
    also 'A Whipiacke,' p. 4.)

Let the reader then compare Harman's own description of a _Patrico_, p.
60, with that in 'the old _Briefe of Vacabonds_,' Awdeley, p. 6:

         Awdeley.                                   Harman.

  ¶ A PATRIARKE CO.                       there is a PATRICO ...

  A Patriarke Co doth _make                whiche in their language is a
  mariages_, & that is _vntill death       priest, that should _make
  depart_ the maried folke.                mariages tyll death dyd depart_.

And surely no doubt on the point will remain in his mind, though, if
needed, a few more confirmations could be got, as

        Awdeley (p. 4).                       Harman (p. 44).

   ¶ A PALLIARD.                           ¶ A Pallyard.

  A Palliard is he that goeth in    These Palliardes ... go with patched
  a patched cloke, and hys Doxy     clokes, and haue their Morts with
  goeth in like apparell.           them.

We may conclude, then, certainly, that Awdeley did not plagiarize
Harman; and probably, that he first published his _Fraternitye_ in 1561.
The tract is a mere sketch, as compared with Harman's _Caueat_, though
in its descriptions (p. 6-11) of 'A Curtesy Man,' 'A Cheatour or
Fingerer,' and 'A Ring-Faller' (one of whom tried his tricks on me in
Gower-street about ten days ago), it gives as full a picture as Harman
does of the general run of his characters. The edition of 1575 being the
only one accessible to us, our trusty Oxford copier, Mr George Parker,
has read the proofs with the copy in the Bodleian.

Let no one bring a charge of plagiarizing Awdeley, against Harman, for
the latter, as has been shown, referred fairly to Awdeley's '_small
breefe_' or '_old briefe of vacabonds_,' and wrote his own "bolde
Beggars booke" (p. 91) from his own long experience with them.

       *       *       *       *       *


Harman's _Caueat_ is too well-known and widely valued a book to need
description or eulogy here. It is _the_ standard work on its
subject,--'these rowsey, ragged, rabblement of rakehelles' (p. 19)--and
has been largely plundered by divers literary cadgers. No copy of the
first edition seems to be known to bibliographers. It was published in
1566 or 1567,--probably the latter year,[4]--and must (I conclude) have
contained less than the second, as in that's 'Harman to the Reader,' p.
28, below, he says 'well good reader, I meane not to be tedyous vnto
the, but haue added fyue or sixe more tales, because some of them weare
doune whyle my booke was fyrste in the presse.' He speaks again of his
first edition at p. 44, below, 'I had the best geldinge stolen oute of
my pasture, that I had amongst others, whyle this boke was _first a
printynge_;' and also at p. 51, below, 'Apon Alhollenday in the morning
last anno domini 1566, or my booke was halfe printed, I meane _the first
impression_.' All Hallows' or All Saints' Day is November 1.


The edition called the second[5], also bearing date in 1567, is known to
us in two states, the latter of which I have called the third edition.
The first state of the second edition is shown by the Bodleian copy,
which is 'Augmented and inlarged by the fyrst author here of,' and has,
besides smaller differences specified in the footnotes in our pages,
this great difference, that the arrangement of 'The Names of the
Vpright Men, Roges, and Pallyards' is not alphabetical, by the first
letter of the Christian names, as in the second state of the second
edition (which I call the third edition), but higgledy-piggledy, or, at
least, without attention to the succession of initials either of
Christian or Sur-names, thus, though in three columns:


  Richard Brymmysh.
  John Myllar.
  Wel arayd Richard.
  John Walchman.
  Willia_m_ Chamborne.
  Bryan Medcalfe.
  Robert Gerse.
  Richard Barton.
  John Braye.
  Thomas Cutter.
  Dowzabell skylfull in fence.


  Harry Walles with the little mouth.
  John Waren.
  Richard Brewton.
  Thomas Paske.
  George Belbarby.
  Humfrey Warde.
  Lytle Robyn.
  Lytle Dycke.
  Richard Iones.
  Lambart Rose.
  Harry Mason.
  Thomas Smithe with the skal skyn.


  Nycholas Newton carieth a fayned lycence.
  Robart Lackley.
  Wylliam Thomas.
  Edward Heyward, hath his Morte following hym Whiche fayneth y^{e}
  Robart Canloke.

This alone settles the priority of the Bodley edition, as no printer,
having an index alphabetical, would go and muddle it all again, even for
a lark. Moreover, the other collations confirm this priority. The
colophon of the Bodley edition is dated A.D. 1567, 'the eight of
January;' and therefore A.D. 1567-8.

The second state of the second edition--which state I call the third
edition--is shown by the copy which Mr Henry Huth has, with his
never-failing generosity, lent us to copy and print from. It omits 'the
eight of January,' from the colophon, and has 'Anno Domini 1567' only.
Like the 2nd edition (or 2 A), this 3rd edition (or 2 B) has the
statement on p. 87, below: 'Whyle this second Impression was in
printinge, it fortuned that Nycholas Blunte, who called hym selfe
Nycholan Gennyns, a counterefet Cranke, that is spoken of in this booke,
was fonde begging in the whyte fryers on Newe yeares day last past. Anno
domini .1567, and commytted vnto a offescer, who caried hym vnto the
depetye of the ward, which co_m_mytted hym vnto the counter;' and this
brings both the 2nd and 3rd editions (or 2 A and 2 B) to the year 1568,
modern style. The 4th edition, so far as I know, was published in 1573,
and was reprinted by Machell Stace (says Bohn's Lowndes) in 1814. From
that reprint Mr W. M. Wood has made a collation of words, not letters,
for us with the 3rd edition. The chief difference of the 4th edition is
its extension of the story of the 'dyssembling Cranke,' Nycholas
Genings, and 'the Printar of this booke' Wylliam Gryffith (p. 53-6,
below), which extension is given in the footnotes to pages 56 and 57 of
our edition. We were obliged to reprint this from Stace's reprint of
1814, as our searchers could not find a copy of the 4th edition of 1573
in either the British Museum, the Bodleian, or the Cambridge University

Thus much about our present edition. I now hark back to the first, and
the piracies of it or the later editions, mentioned in Mr J. P.
Collier's _Registers of the Stationers' Company_, i. 155-6, 166.

  "1566-7 Rd. of William Greffeth, for his lycense for printinge of a
  boke intituled a Caviat for commen Corsetors, vulgarly called
  Vagabons, by Thomas Harman ... iiij^{d}.

    "[No edition of Harman's 'Caveat or Warning for common Cursetors,'
    of the date of 1566, is known, although it is erroneously mentioned
    in the introductory matter to the reprint in 1814, from H.
    Middleton's impression of 1573. It was the forerunner of various
    later works of the same kind, some of which were plundered from it
    without acknowledgment, and attributed to the celebrated Robert
    Greene. Copies of two editions in 1567, by Griffith, are extant,
    and, in all probability, it was the first time it appeared in print:
    Griffith entered it at Stationers' Hall, as above, in 1566, in order
    that he might publish it in 1567. Harman's work was preceded by
    several ballads relating to vagabonds, the earliest of which is
    entered on p. 42 [Awdeley, p. ii. above]. On a subsequent page (166)
    is inserted a curious entry regarding 'the boke of Rogges,' or

    "1566-7. For Takynge of Fynes as foloweth. Rd. of Henry Bynnyman,
    for his fyne for undermy[n]dinge and procurynge, as moche as in hym
    ded lye, a Copye from wylliam greffeth, called the boke of Rogges
    ... iij^{s}.


    "[This was certainly Harman's 'Caveat or Warning for Common
    Cursetors'; and here we see Bynneman fined for endeavouring to
    _undermine_ Griffith by procuring the copy of the work, in order
    that Bynneman might print and publish it instead of Griffith, his
    rival in business. The next item may show that Gerard Dewes had also
    printed the book, no doubt without license, but the memorandum was
    crossed out in the register.]

    "Also, there doth remayne in the handes of Mr Tottle and Mr Gonneld,
    then wardens, the somme of iij^{li}. vij^{s}. viij^{d}., wherto was
    Recevyd of garrad dewes for pryntinge of the boke of Rogges in aº
    1567 ... ij^{li}. vj^{s}. viij^{d}.

    "[All tends to prove the desire of stationers to obtain some share
    of the profits of a work, which, as we have already shown, was so
    well received, that Griffith published two editions of it in 1567.]"

The fact is, the book was so interesting that it made its readers
thieves, as 'Jack Sheppard' has done in later days. The very wood-cutter
cheated Harman of the hind legs of the horse on his title, prigged two
of his prauncer's props (p. 42).

To know the keen inquiring Social Reformer, Thomas Harman, the reader
must go to his book. He lived in the country (p. 34, foot), in
[Crayford] Kent (p. 30, p. 35), near a heath (p. 35), near Lady
Elizabeth Shrewsbury's parish (p. 19), not far from London (p. 30, p.
35); 'he lodged at the White Friars within the cloister' (p. 51),
seemingly while he was having his book printed (p. 53), and had his
servant there with him (_ib._); 'he knew London well' (p. 54, &c.); and
in Kent 'beinge placed as a poore gentleman,' he had in 1567, 'kepte a
house these twenty yeares, where vnto pouerty dayely hath and doth
repayre,' and where, being kept at home 'through sickenes, he talked
dayly with many of these wyly wanderars, as well men and wemmen, as
boyes and gyrles,' whose tricks he has so pleasantly set down for us. He
did not, though, confine his intercourse with vagabonds to talking, for
he says of some, p. 48,

    ¶ Some tyme they counterfet the seale of the Admiraltie. I haue
    diuers tymes taken a waye from them their lycences, of both sortes,
    wyth suche money as they haue gathered, and haue confiscated the
    same to the pouerty nigh adioyninge to me. p. 51-6.


Our author also practically exposed these tricks, as witness his hunting
out the Cranke, Nycholas Genings, and his securing the vagabond's 13_s._
and 4_d._ for the poor of Newington parish, p. 51-6, his making the deaf
and dumb beggar hear and speak, p. 58-9 (and securing his money too for
the poor). But he fed deserving beggars, see p. 66, p. 20.

Though Harman tells us 'Eloquence haue I none, I neuer was acquaynted
with the Muses, I neuer tasted of Helycon' (p. 27-8), yet he could write
verses--though awfully bad ones: see them at pages 50 and 89-91, below,
perhaps too at p. 26[6];--he knew Latin--see his comment on Cursetors
and Vagabone, p. 27; his _una voce_, p. 43; perhaps his 'Argus eyes,' p.
54; his _omnia venalia Rome_, p. 60; his _homo_, p. 73; he quotes St
Augustine (and the Bible), p. 24; &c.;--he studied the old Statutes of
the Realm (p. 27); he liked proverbs (see the Index); he was once 'in
commission of the peace,' as he says, and judged malefactors, p. 60,
though he evidently was not a Justice when he wrote his book; he was a
'gentleman,' says Harrison (see p. xii. below); 'a Iustice of Peace in
Kent,[7] in Queene Marie's daies,' says Samuel Rowlands;[8] he bore arms
(of heraldry), and had them duly stamped on his pewter dishes (p. 35);
he had at least one old 'tennant who customably a greate tyme went twise
in the weeke to London, (over Blacke Heathe) eyther wyth fruite or with
pescoddes' (p. 30); he hospitably asked his visitors to dinner (p. 45);
he had horses in his pasture,[9] the best gelding of which the Pryggers
of Prauncers prigged (p. 44); he had an unchaste cow that went to bull
every month (p. 67, if his ownership is not chaff here); he had in his
'well-house on the backe side of his house, a great cawdron of copper'
which the beggars stole (p. 34-5); he couldn't keep his linen on his
hedges or in his rooms, or his pigs and poultry from the thieves (p.
21); he hated the 'rascal rabblement' of them (p. 21), and 'the wicked
parsons that keepe typlinge Houses in all shires, where they haue
succour and reliefe'; and, like a wise and practical man, he set himself
to find out and expose all their 'vndecent, dolefull [guileful] dealing,
and execrable exercyses' (p. 21) to the end that they might be stopt,
and sin and wickedness might not so much abound, and thus 'this Famous
Empyre be in more welth, and better florysh, to the inestymable joye and
comfort' of his great Queen, Elizabeth, and the 'vnspeakable ... reliefe
and quietnes of minde, of all her faythfull Commons and Subiectes.' The
right end, and the right way to it. We've some like you still, Thomas
Harman, in our Victorian time. May their number grow!


Thus much about Harman we learn from his book and his literary
contemporaries and successors. If we now turn to the historian of his
county, Hasted, we find further interesting details about our author: 1,
that he lived in Crayford parish, next to Erith, the Countess of
Shrewsbury's parish; 2, that he inherited the estates of Ellam, and
Maystreet, and the manor of Mayton or Maxton; 3, that he was the
grandson of Henry Harman, Clerk of the Crown, who had for his arms
'Argent, a chevron between 3 scalps sable,' which were no doubt those
stampt on our Thomas's pewter dishes; 4, that he had a 'descendant,'--a
son, I presume--who inherited his lands, and three daughters, one of
whom, Bridget, married Henry Binneman--? not the printer, about 1565-85
A.D., p. vi-vii, above.

Hasted in his description of the parish of Crayford, speaking of Ellam,
a place in the parish, says:--

    "In the 16th year of K. Henry VII. John Ellam alienated it (the seat
    of Ellam) to Henry Harman, who was then Clerk of the Crown,[10] and
    who likewise purchased an estate called Maystreet here, of Cowley
    and Bulbeck, of Bulbeck-street in this parish, in the 20th year of
    King Edward IV.[11] On his decease, William Harman, his son,
    possessed both these estates.[12] On his decease they descended to
    Thomas Harman, esq., his son; who, among others, procured his lands
    to be disgavelled, by the act of the 2 & 3 Edw. VI.[13] He married
    Millicent, one of the daughters of Nicholas Leigh, of Addington, in
    the county of Surry, esq.[14] His descendant, William Harman, sold
    both these places in the reign of K. James I. to Robert Draper,
    esqr."--_History of Kent_, vol. i. p. 209.

    The manor of Maxton, in the parish of Hougham "passed to Hobday, and
    thence to Harman, of Crayford; from which name it was sold by Thomas
    Harman to Sir James Hales.... William Harman held the manor of
    Mayton, alias Maxton, with its appurtenances, of the Lord Cheney, as
    of his manor of Chilham, by Knight's service. Thomas Harman was his
    son and heir: Rot. Esch. 2 Edw. VI."--Hasted's _History of Kent_,
    vi. p. 47.

    "It is laid down as a rule, that nothing but an act of parliament
    can change the nature of gavelkind lands; and this has occasioned
    several [acts], for the purpose of disgavelling the possessions of
    divers gentlemen in this county.... One out of several statutes made
    for this purpose is the 3rd of Edw. VI."--Hasted's _History of
    Kent_, vol. i. p. cxliii.

And in the list of names given,--taken from Robinson's
_Gavelkind_--twelfth from the bottom stands that of THOMAS HARMAN.

    Of Thomas Harman's aunt, Mary, Mrs William Lovelace, we find: "John
    Lovelace, esq., and William Lovelace, his brother, possessed this
    manor and seat (Bayford-Castle) between them; the latter of whom
    resided at Bayford, where he died in the 2nd year of K. Edward VI.,
    leaving issue by Mary his wife, daughter of William Harman, of
    Crayford, seven sons...."--Hasted's _History of Kent_, vol. ii. p.

The rectory of the parish of Deal was bestowed by the Archbishop on
Roger Harman in 1544 (_Hasted_, vol. iv. p. 171).

Harman-street is the name of a farm in the parish of Ash (_Hasted_, vol.
iii. p. 691).


The excellent parson, William Harrison, in his 'Description of
England,' prefixed to Holinshed's Chronicles (edit. 1586), quotes Harman
fairly enough in his chapter "Of prouision made for the poore," Book II,
chap. 10.[15] And as he gives a statement of the sharp punishment
enacted for idle rogues and vagabonds by the Statutes of Elizabeth, I
take a long extract from his said chapter. After speaking of those who
are made 'beggers through other mens occasion,' and denouncing the
grasping landlords 'who make them so, and wipe manie out of their
occupiengs,' Harrison goes on to those who are beggars 'through their
owne default' (p. 183, last line of col. 1, ed. 1586):

    "Such as are idle beggers through their owne default are of two
    sorts, and continue their estates either by casuall or meere
    voluntarie meanes: those that are such by casuall means [16]are in
    the beginning[16] iustlie to be referred either to the first or
    second sort of poore [16]afore mentioned[16]; but, degenerating into
    the thriftlesse sort, they doo what they can to continue their
    miserie; and, with such impediments as they haue, to straie and
    wander about, as creatures abhorring all labour and euerie honest
    excercise. Certes, I call these casuall meanes, not in respect of
    the originall of their pouertie, but of the continuance of the same,
    from whence they will not be deliuered, such[17] is their owne
    vngratious lewdnesse and froward disposition. The voluntarie meanes
    proceed from outward causes, as by making of corosiues, and applieng
    the same to the more fleshie parts of their bodies; and also laieng
    of ratsbane, sperewort, crowfoot, and such like vnto their whole
    members, thereby to raise pitifull[18] and odious sores, and mooue
    [16]the harts of[16] the goers by such places where they lie, to
    [19]yerne at[19] their miserie, and therevpon[16] bestow large
    almesse vpon them.[20] How artificiallie they beg, what forcible
    speech, and how they select and choose out words of vehemencie,
    whereby they doo in maner coniure or adiure the goer by to pitie
    their cases, I passe ouer to remember, as iudging the name of God
    and Christ to be more conuersant in the mouths of none, and yet the
    presence of the heuenlie maiestie further off from no men than from
    this vngratious companie. Which maketh me to thinke, that punishment
    is farre meeter for them than liberalitie or almesse, and sith
    Christ willeth vs cheeflie to haue a regard to himselfe and his
    poore members.

    "Vnto this nest is another sort to be referred, more sturdie than
    the rest, which, hauing sound and perfect lims, doo yet,
    notwithstanding sometime counterfeit the possession of all sorts of
    diseases. Diuerse times in their apparell also[21] they will be like
    seruing men or laborers: oftentimes they can plaie the mariners, and
    seeke for ships which they neuer lost.[22] But, in fine, they are
    all theeues and caterpillers in the commonwealth, and, by the word
    of God not permitted to eat, sith they doo but licke the sweat from
    the true laborers' browes, _and_ beereue the godlie poore of that
    which is due vnto them, to mainteine their excesse, consuming the
    charitie of well-disposed people bestowed vpon them, after a most
    wicked[23] _and_ detestable maner.

    "It is not yet full threescore[24] yeares since this trade began: but
    how it hath prospered since that time, it is easie to iudge; for they
    are now supposed, of one sex and another, to amount vnto aboue 10,000
    persons, as I haue heard reported. Moreouer, in counterfeiting the
    Egyptian roges, they haue deuised a language among themselues, which
    they name _Canting_ (but other pedlers French)--a speach compact
    thirtie yeares since of English, and a great number of od words of
    their owne deuising, without all order or reason: and yet such is it
    as none but themselues are able to vnderstand. The first deuiser
    thereof was hanged by the necke,--a iust reward, no doubt, for his
    deserts, and a common end to all of that profession. [Sidenote:
    Thomas Harman.] A gentleman, also, of late hath taken great paines
    to search out the secret practises of this vngratious rabble. And
    among other things he setteth downe and describeth [25]three _and_
    twentie[25] sorts of them, whose names it shall not be amisse to
    remember, wherby ech one may [26]take occasion to read and know as
    also by his industrie[26] what wicked people they are, and what
    villanie remaineth in them.

    "The seuerall disorders and degrees amongst our idle vagabonds:--

   1. Rufflers.
   2. Vprightmen.
   3. Hookers or Anglers.
   4. Roges.
   5. Wild Roges.
   6. Priggers of Prancers.
   7. Palliards.
   8. Fraters.
   9. Abrams.
  10. Freshwater mariners, or Whipiacks.
  11. Dummerers.
  12. Drunken tinkers.
  13. Swadders, or Pedlers.
  14. Iarkemen, or Patricoes.

    Of Women kinde--

  1. Demanders for glimmar, or fire.
  2. Baudie Baskets
  3. Mortes.
  4. Autem mortes.
  5. Walking mortes.
  6. Doxes.
  7. Delles.
  8. Kinching Mortes.
  9. Kinching cooes.[27]

    "The punishment that is ordeined for this kind of people is verie
    sharpe, and yet it can not restreine them from their gadding:
    wherefore the end must needs be martiall law, to be exercised vpon
    them as vpon theeues, robbers, despisers of all lawes, and enimies
    to the commonwealth _and_ welfare of the land. What notable
    roberies, pilferies, murders, rapes, and stealings of yoong[28]
    children, [29]burning, breaking and disfiguring their lims to make
    them pitifull in the sight of the people,[29] I need not to
    rehearse; but for their idle roging about the countrie, the law
    ordeineth this maner of correction. The roge being apprehended,
    committed to prison, and tried in the next assises (whether they be
    of gaole deliuerie or sessions of the peace) if he happen to be
    conuicted for a vagabond either by inquest of office, or the
    testimonie of two honest and credible witnesses vpon their oths, he
    is then immediatlie adiudged to be greeuouslie whipped and burned
    through the gristle of the right eare, with an hot iron of the
    compasse of an inch about, as a manifestation of his wicked life,
    and due punishment receiued for the same. And this iudgement is to
    be executed vpon him, except some honest person woorth fiue pounds
    in the queene's books in goods, or twentie shillings in lands, or
    some rich housholder to be allowed by the iustices, will be bound in
    recognisance to reteine him in his seruice for one whole yeare. If
    he be taken the second time, and proued to haue forsaken his said
    seruice, he shall then be whipped againe, bored likewise through the
    other eare and set to seruice: from whence if he depart before a
    yeare be expired, and happen afterward to be attached againe, he is
    condemned to suffer paines of death as a fellon (except before
    excepted) without benefit of clergie or sanctuarie, as by the
    statute dooth appeare. Among roges and idle persons finallie, we
    find to be comprised all proctors that go vp and downe with
    counterfeit licences, coosiners, and such as gad about the countrie,
    vsing vnlawfull games, practisers of physiognomie, and palmestrie,
    tellers of fortunes, fensers, plaiers,[30] minstrels, iugglers,
    pedlers, tinkers, pretensed[31] schollers, shipmen, prisoners
    gathering for fees, and others, so oft as they be taken without
    sufficient licence. From [32]among which companie our bearewards are
    not excepted, and iust cause: for I haue read that they haue either
    voluntarilie, or for want of power to master their sauage beasts,
    beene occasion of the death and deuoration of manie children in
    sundrie countries by which they haue passed, whose parents neuer
    knew what was become of them. And for that cause there is _and_ haue
    beene manie sharpe lawes made for bearwards in Germanie, wherof you
    may read in other. But to our roges.[32] Each one also that
    harboreth or aideth them with meat or monie, is taxed and compelled
    to fine with the queene's maiestie for euerie time that he dooth so
    succour them, as it shall please the iustices of peace to assigne,
    so that the taxation exceed not twentie shillings, as I haue beene
    informed. And thus much of the poore, _and_ such prouision as is
    appointed for them within the realme of England."


Among the users of Harman's book, the chief and coolest was the author
of _The groundworke of Conny-catching_, 1592, who wrote a few
introductory pages, and then quietly reprinted almost all Harman's book
with an 'I leaue you now vnto those which by Maister Harman are
discouered' (p. 103, below). By this time Harman was no doubt dead.--Who
will search for his Will in the Wills Office?--Though Samuel Rowlands
was alive, he did not show up this early appropriator of Harman's work
as he did a later one. As a kind of Supplement to the _Caueat_, I have
added, as the 4th tract in the present volume, such parts of the
_Groundworke of Conny-catching_ as are not reprinted from Harman. The
_Groundworke_ has been attributed to Robert Greene, but on no evidence
(I believe) except Greene's having written a book in three Parts on
Conny-catching, 1591-2, and 'A Disputation betweene a Hee Conny-catcher
and a Shee Conny-catcher, whether a Theafe or a Whore is most hvrtfull
in Cousonage to the Common-wealth,' 1592.[33] Hearne's copy of the
_Groundworke_ is bound up in the 2nd vol. of Greene's Works, among
George III.'s books in the British Museum, as if it really was Greene's.

Another pilferer from Harman was Thomas Dekker, in his _Belman of
London_, 1608, of which three editions were published in the same year
(_Hazlitt_). But Samuel Rowlands found him out and showed him up. From
the fifth edition of the Belman, the earliest that our copier, Mr W. M.
Wood, could find in the British Museum, he has drawn up the following
account of the book:

    _The Belman of London. Bringing to Light the most notorious
        Villanies that are now practised in the Kingdome. Profitable for
        Gentlemen, Lawyers, Merchants, Citizens, Farmers, Masters of
        Housholds, and all sorts of Servants to mark, and delightfull
        for all Men to Reade._

    Lege, Perlege, Relege.

    _The fift Impression, with new additions. Printed at London by Miles
        Flesher._ 1640.


On the back of the title-page, after the table of contents, the eleven
following 'secret villanies' are described, severally, as

    "Cheating Law.
    Vincent's Law.
    Curbing Law.
    Lifting Law.
    Sacking Law.
    Bernard's Lawe.
    The black Art.
    Prigging Law.
    High Law.
    Frigging Law.
         Five Iumpes at Leape-frog."

After a short description of the four ages of the world, there is an
account of a feast, at which were present all kinds of vagabonds. Dekker
was conveyed, by 'an old nimble-tong'd beldam, who seemed to haue the
command of the place,' to an upper loft, 'where, vnseene, I might,
through a wooden Latice that had prospect of the dining roome, both see
and heare all that was to be done or spoken.'

    'The whole assembly being thus gathered together, one, amongest the
    rest, who tooke vpon him a Seniority ouer the rest, charged euery
    man to answer to his name, to see if the Iury were full:--the Bill
    by which hee meant to call them beeing a double Iug of ale (that had
    the spirit of _Aquavitæ_ in it, it smelt so strong), and that hee
    held in his hand. Another, standing by, with a toast, nutmeg, and
    ginger, ready to cry _Vous avez_ as they were cald, and all that
    were in the roome hauing single pots by the eares, which, like
    Pistols, were charged to goe off so soone as euer they heard their
    names. This Ceremony beeing set abroach, an Oyes was made. But he
    that was Rector Chory (the Captain of the Tatterdemalions) spying
    one to march vnder his Colours, that had neuer before serued in
    those lowsie warres, paused awhile (after hee had taken his first
    draught, to tast the dexterity of the liquor), and then began,
    Iustice-like, to examine this yonger brother vpon interrogatories.'

This yonger brother is afterwards 'stalled to the rogue;' and the
'Rector Chory[34]' instructs him in his duties, and tells him the names
and degrees of the fraternity of vagabonds. Then comes the feast, after
which, 'one who tooke vpon him to be speaker to the whole house,' began,
as was the custom of their meeting, 'to make an oration in praise of
Beggery, and of those that professe the trade,' which done, all the
company departed, leaving the 'old beldam' and Dekker the only occupants
of the room.

    'The spirit of her owne mault walkt in her brain-pan, so that, what
    with the sweetnes of gaines which shee had gotten by her Marchant
    Venturers, and what with the fumes of drinke, which set her tongue
    in going, I found her apt for talke; and, taking hold of this
    opportunity, after some intreaty to discouer to mee what these
    vpright men, rufflers and the rest were, with their seuerall
    qualities and manners of life, Thus shee began.'


And what she tells Dekker is taken, all of it, from Harman's book.

Afterwards come accounts of the five 'Laws' and five jumps at leap-frog
mentioned on the back of the title-page, and which is quoted above, p.

Lastly 'A short Discourse of Canting,' which is, entirely, taken from
Harman, pages 84-87, below.

As I have said before, Dekker was shown up for his pilferings from
Harman by Samuel Rowlands, who must, says Mr Collier in his
Bibliographical Catalogue, have published his _Martin Mark-all, Beadle
of Bridewell_, in or before 1609,--though no edition is known to us
before 1610,--because Dekker in an address 'To my owne Nation' in his
_Lanthorne and Candle-light_, which was published in 1609, refers to
Rowlands as a 'Beadle of Bridewell.' 'You shall know him,' (says Dekker,
speaking of a rival author, [that is, Samuel Rowlands] whom he calls 'a
Usurper') 'by his Habiliments, for (by the furniture he weares) hee will
bee taken for a _Beadle of Bridewell_.' That this 'Usurper' was
Rowlands, we know by the latter's saying in _Martin Mark-all_, leaf E, i
back, 'although he (the Bel-man, that is, Dekker) is bold to call me an
_usurper_; for so he doth in his last round.'

Well, from this treatise of Rowlands', Mr Wood has made the following
extracts relating to Dekker and Harman, together with Rowlands's own
list of slang words not in Dekker or Harman, and 'the errour in his
[Dekker's] words, and true englishing of the same:'

    _Martin Mark-all, Beadle of Bridewell; his defence and Answere to
        the Belman of London, Discouering the long-concealed Originall
        and Regiment of Rogues, when they first began to take head, and
        how they haue succeeded one the other successiuely vnto the sixe
        and twentieth yeare of King Henry the eight, gathered out of the
        Chronicle of Crackeropes, and (as they terme it) the Legend of
        Lossels. By S[amuel] R[owlands]._

    Orderunt peccare boni virtutis amore,
    Orderunt peccare mali formidine poenæ.

  _Printed for Iohn Budge and Richard Bonian._ 1610.

    'Martin Mark-all, his Apologie to the Bel-man of London. There hath
    been of late dayes great paines taken on the part of the good old
    Bel-man of London, in discouering, as hee thinks, a new-found Nation
    and People. Let it be so for this time: hereupon much adoe was made
    in setting forth their lines, order of lining, method of speech, and
    vsuall meetings, with diuers other things thereunto appertaining.
    These volumes and papers, now spread euerie where, so that euerie
    Iacke-boy now can say as well as the proudest of that fraternitie,
    "will you wapp for a wyn, or tranie for a make?" The gentle Company
    of Cursitours began now to stirre, and looke about them; and hauing
    gathered together a Conuocation of Canting Caterpillars, as wel in
    the North parts at the Diuels arse apeake,[35] as in the South, they
    diligently enquired, and straight search was made, whether any had
    reuolted from that faithles fellowship. Herupon euery one gaue his
    verdict: some supposed that it might be some one that, hauing
    ventured to farre beyond wit and good taking heede, was fallen into
    the hands of the Magistrate, and carried to the trayning Cheates,
    where, in shew of a penitent heart, and remoarse of his good time
    ill spent, turned the cocke, and let out all: others thought it
    might be some spic-knaue that, hauing little to doe, tooke vpon him
    the habite and forme of an Hermite; and so, by dayly commercing and
    discoursing, learned in time the mysterie and knowlege of this
    ignoble profession: and others, because it smelt of a study, deemed
    it to be some of their owne companie, that had been at some
    free-schoole, and belike, because hee would be handsome against a
    good time, tooke pen and inke, and wrote of that subiect; thus, _Tot
    homines, tot sententiæ_, so many men, so many mindes. And all
    because the spightfull Poet would not set too his name. At last vp
    starts an old Cacodemicall Academicke with his frize bonnet, and
    giues them al to know, that this invectiue was set foorth, made, and
    printed Fortie yeeres agoe. And being then called, 'A caueat for
    Cursitors,' is now newly printed, and termed, 'The Bel-man of
    London,' made at first by one Master Harman, a Iustice of Peace in
    Kent, in Queene Marie's daies,--he being then about ten yeeres of
    age.' Sign. A. 2.

    'They (the vagabonds) haue a language among themselues, composed of
    _omnium gatherum_; a glimering whereof, one of late daies hath
    endeuoured to manifest, as farre as his Authour is pleased to be an
    intelligencer. The substance whereof he leaueth for those that will
    dilate thereof; enough for him to haue the praise, other the paines,
    notwithstanding _Harman's_ ghost continually clogging his conscience
    with _Sic Vos non Vobis_.'--Sign. C. 3 back.[36]

    'Because the Bel-man entreateth any that is more rich in canting, to
    lend him better or more with variety, he will repay his loue double,
    I haue thought good, not only to shew his errour in some places in
    setting downe olde wordes vsed fortie yeeres agoe, before he was
    borne, for wordes that are vsed in these dayes (although he is bold
    to call me an vsurper (for so he doth in his last round), and not
    able to maintayne the title, but haue enlarged his Dictionary (or
    _Master Harmon's_) with such wordes as I thinke hee neuer heard of
    (and yet in vse too); but not out of vaine glorie, as his ambition
    is, but, indeede, as an experienced souldier that hath deerely paid
    for it: and therefore it shall be honour good enough for him (if not
    too good) to come vp with the Reare (I doe but shoote your owne
    arrow back againe), and not to haue the leading of the Van as he
    meanes to doe, although small credite in the end will redound to
    eyther. You shall know the wordes not set in eyther his Dictionaries
    by this marke §: and for shewing the errour in his words, and true
    englishing of the same and other, this marke ¶ shall serue

    § Abram, madde.

    § He maunds Abram, he begs as a madde man.

    ¶ Bung, is now vsed for a pocket, heretofore for a purse.

    § Budge a beake, runne away.

    § A Bite, secreta mulierum.

    § Crackmans, the hedge.

    § To Castell, to see or looke.

    § A Roome Cuttle, a sword.

    § A Cuttle bung, a knife to cut a purse.

    § Chepemans, Cheape-side market.

    ¶ Chates, the Gallowes: here he mistakes both the simple word,
        because he so found it printed, not knowing the true originall
        thereof, and also in the compound; as for _Chates_, it should be
        _Cheates_, which word is vsed generally for things, as _Tip me
        that Cheate_, Giue me that thing: so that if you will make a
        word for the Gallous, you must put thereto this word _treyning_,
        which signifies hanging; and so _treyning cheate_ is as much to
        say, hanging things, or the Gallous, and not _Chates_.


    § A fflicke, a Theefe.

    § Famblers, a paire of Gloues.

    § Greenemans, the fields.

    § Gilkes for the gigger, false keyes for the doore or picklockes.

    § Gracemans, Gratious streete market.

    § Iockam, a man's yard.

    § Ian, a purse.

    § Iere, a turd.

    § Lugges, eares.

    § Loges, a passe or warrant.

    § A Feager of Loges, one that beggeth with false passes or
         counterfeit writings.

    § Numans, Newgate Market.

    ¶ Nigling, company keeping with a woman: this word is not vsed now,
        but _wapping_, and thereof comes the name _wapping morts_,

    § To plant, to hide.

    ¶ Smellar, a garden; not smelling cheate, for that's a Nosegay.

    § Spreader, butter.

    § Whittington, Newgate.

    "And thus haue I runne ouer the Canter's Dictionary; to speake more
    at large would aske more time then I haue allotted me; yet in this
    short time that I haue, I meane to sing song for song with the
    Belman, ere I wholly leaue him." [Here follow three Canting Songs.]
    Sign. E 1, back--E 4.

    "And thus hath the Belman, through his pitifull ambition, caused me
    to write that I would not: And whereas he disclaims the name of
    Brotherhood, I here vtterly renounce him & his fellowship, as not
    desirous to be rosolued of anything he professeth on this subiect,
    knowing my selfe to be as fully instructed herein as euer he
    was."--Sign. F.

In the second Part of his _Belman of London_, namely, his _Lanthorne and
Candle-light_, 1609, Dekker printed a Dictionary of Canting, which is
only a reprint of Harman's (p. 82-4, below). A few extracts from this
_Lanthorne_ are subjoined:


    "This word _canting_ seemes to bee deriued from the latine _verbe
    canto_, which signifies in English, to sing, or to make a sound with
    words,--that is to say, to speake. And very aptly may _canting_ take
    his deriuatio_n_, _a cantando_, from singing, because, amongst these
    beggerly consorts that can play vpon no better instruments, the
    language of _canting_ is a kind of musicke; and he that in such
    assemblies can _cant_ best, is counted the best
    Musitian."--_Dekker's Lanthorne and Candle-light_, B. 4. back.


_Specimen of "Canting rithmes."_

    "Enough--with bowsy Coue maund Nace,
    Tour the Patring Coue in the Darkeman Case,
    Docked the Dell, for a Coper meke
    His wach shall feng a Prounces Nab-chete,
    Cyarum, by Salmon, and thou shalt pek my Iere
    In thy Gan, for my watch it is nace gere,
    For the bene bowse my watch hath a win, &c."

      _Dekker's Lanthorne_, &c., C. 1. back.

A specimen of "Canting prose," with translation, is given on the same

Dekker's dictionary of Canting, given in _Lanthorne and Candle-light_,
is the same as that of Harman.

                       "A Canting Song.

    The Ruffin cly the nab of the Harman beck,
    If we mawn'd Pannam, lap or Ruff-peck,
    Or poplars of yarum: he cuts, bing to the Ruffmans,
    Or els he sweares by the light-mans,
    To put our stamps in the Harmans,
    The ruffian cly the ghost of the Harman beck
    If we heaue a booth we cly the Ierke.
    If we niggle, or mill a bowsing Ken
    Or nip a boung that has but a win
    Or dup the giger of a Gentry cofe's ken,
    To the quier cuffing we bing,
    And then to the quier Ken, to scowre the Cramp ring,
    And then to the Trin'de on the chates, in the lightmans
    The Bube _and_ Ruffian cly the Harman beck _and_ harmans.

                       Thus Englished.

    The Diuell take the Constable's head,
    If we beg Bacon, Butter-milke, or bread,
    Or Pottage, to the hedge he bids vs hie
    Or sweares (by this light) i' th' stocks we shall lie.
    The Deuill haunt the Constable's ghoast
    If we rob but a Booth, we are whip'd at a poast.
    If an ale-house we rob, or be tane with a whore,
    Or cut a purse that has inst a penny, and no more,
    Or come but stealing in at a Gentleman's dore
    To the Iustice straight we goe,
    And then to the Iayle to be shakled: And so
    To be hang'd on the gallowes i' th' day time: the pox
    And the Deuill take the Constable and his stocks."

      _Ibid._ C. 3. back.


Richard Head (says Mr Hotten), in his _English Rogue, described in the
Life of Meriton Latroon, a Witty Extravagant_, 4 vols. 12mo., 1671-80,
gave "a glossary of Cant words 'used by the Gipsies'; but it was only a
reprint of what Decker had given sixty years before," and therefore
merely taken from Harman too. 'The Bibliography of Slang, Cant, and
Vulgar Language' has been given so fully at the end of Mr Hotten's Slang
Dictionary, that I excuse myself from pursuing the subject farther. I
only add here Mr Wood's extracts from four of the treatises on this
subject not noticed by Mr Hotten in the 1864 edition of his Dictionary,
but contained (with others) in a most curious volume in the British
Museum, labelled _Practice of Robbers_,--Press Mark 518. h. 2.,--as also
some of the slang words in these little books not given by Harman[37]:

    1. _The Catterpillers of this Nation anatomized, in a brief yet
    notable Discovery of House-breakers, Pick-pockets, &c. Together with
    the Life of a penitent High-way-man, discovering the Mystery of that
    Infernal Society. To which is added, the Manner of Hectoring and
    trapanning, as it is acted in and about the City of London. London,
    Printed for M. H. at the Princes Armes, in Chancery-lane._ 1659.

  Ken = miller, house-breaker.
  Iowre, or mint = wealth or money.
  Gigers jacked = locked doors.
  Tilers, or Cloyers, equivalent to shoplifters.
  Joseph, a cloak.
  Bung-nibber, or Cutpurse = a pickpocket.

       *       *       *       *       *

    2. _A Warning for Housekeepers; or, A discovery of all sorts of
    thieves and Robbers which go under theee titles, viz.--The Gilter,
    the Mill, the Glasier, Budg and Snudg, File-lifter, Tongue-padder,
    The private Theif. With Directions how to prevent them, Also an
    exact description of every one of their Practices. Written by one
    who was a Prisoner in Newgate. Printed for T. Newton_, 1676.

    Glasiers, thieves who enter houses, thro' windows, first remouing a
    pane of glass (p. 4).


The following is a Budg and Snudg song:--

    "The Budge it is a delicate trade,
    And a delicate trade of fame;
    For when that we have bit the bloe,
    We carry away the game:
    But if the cully nap us,
    And the lurres from us take,
    O then they rub us to the whitt,
    And it is hardly worth a make.
    But when that we come to the whitt
    Our Darbies to behold,
    And for to take our penitency,
    And boose the water cold.
    But when that we come out agen,
    As we walk along the street,
    We bite the Culley of his cole,
    But we are rubbed unto the whitt.
    And when that we come to the whitt,
    For garnish they do cry,
    Mary, faugh, you son of a wh----
    Ye shall have it by and by.
    But when that we come to Tyburn,
    For going upon the budge,
    There stands Jack Catch, that son of a w----
    That owes us all a grudge
    And when that he hath noosed us
    And our friends tips him no cole
    O then he throws us in the cart
    And tumbles us into the hole."--(pp. 5, 6.)

On the last page of this short tract (which consists of eight pages) we
are promised:

    "In the next Part you shall have a fuller description."

       *       *       *       *       *


    3. _Street Robberies consider'd; The reason of their being so
    frequent, with probable means to prevent 'em: To which is added
    three short Treatises--1. A Warning for Travellers; 2. Observations
    on House-breakers; 3. A Caveat for Shopkeepers. London, J. Roberts._
    [no date] _Written by a converted Thief._

_Shepherd_ is mentioned in this book as being a clever prison breaker
(p. 6). There is a long list of slang words in this tract. The following
are only a few of them:

    Abram, Naked
    Betty, a Picklock
    Bubble-Buff, Bailiff
    Bube, Pox
    Chive, a Knife
    Clapper dudgeon, a beggar born
    Collar the Cole, Lay hold on the money
    Cull, a silly fellow
    Dads, an old man
    Darbies, Iron
    Diddle, Geneva
    Earnest, share
    Elf, little
    Fencer, receiver of stolen goods
    Fib, to beat
    Fog, smoke
    Gage, Exciseman
    Gilt, a Picklock
    Grub, Provender
    Hic, booby
    Hog, a shilling
    Hum, strong
    Jem, Ring
    Jet, Lawyer
    Kick, Sixpence
    Kin, a thief
    Kit, Dancing-master
    Lap, Spoon-meat
    Latch, let in
    Leake, Welshman
    Leap, all safe
    Mauks, a whore
    Mill, to beat
    Mish, a smock
    Mundungus, sad stuff
    Nan, a maid of the house
    Nap, an arrest
    Nimming, stealing
    Oss Chives, Bone-handled knives
    Otter, a sailor
    Peter, Portmantua
    Plant the Whids, take care what you say
    Popps, Pistols
    Rubbs, hard shifts
    Rumbo Ken, Pawn-brokers
    Rum Mort, fine Woman
    Smable, taken
    Smeer, a painter
    Snafflers, Highwaymen
    Snic, to cut
    Tattle, watch
    Tic, trust
    Tip, give
    Tit, a horse
    Tom Pat, a parson
    Tout, take heed
    Tripe, the belly
    Web, cloth
    Wobble, 'o boil
    Yam, to eat
    Yelp, a crier
    Yest, a day ago
    Zad, crooked
    Znees, Frost
    Zouch, an ungenteel man
    &c., a Bookseller

    "The King of the Night, as the Constables please to term themselves,
    should be a little more active in their employment; but all their
    business is to get to a watch house and guzzle, till their time of
    going home comes." (p. 60.)

    "A small bell to Window Shutters would be of admirable use to
    prevent Housebreakers." (p. 70.)

       *       *       *       *       *

    4. _A true discovery of the Conduct of Receivers and Thief-Takers,
    in and about the City of London, &c., &c. London_, 1718.

This pamphlet is "design'd as preparatory to a larger Treatise, wherein
shall be propos'd Methods to extirpate and suppress for the future such
villanous Practices." It is by "Charles Hitchin, one of the Marshals of
the City of London."

I now take leave of Harman, with a warm commendation of him to the


The third piece in the present volume is a larky Sermon in praise of
Thieves and Thievery, the title of which (p. 93, below) happened to
catch my eye when I was turning over the Cotton Catalogue, and which was
printed here, as well from its suiting the subject, as from a pleasant
recollection of a gallop some 30 years ago in a four-horse coach across
Harford-Bridge-Flat, where Parson Haben (or Hyberdyne), who is said to
have preached the Sermon, was no doubt robbed. My respected friend
Goody-goody declares the sermon to be 'dreadfully irreverent;' but one
needn't mind him. An earlier copy than the Cotton one turned up among
the Lansdowne MSS, and as it differed a good deal from the Cotton text,
it has been printed opposite to that.

Of the fourth piece in this little volume, _The Groundworke of
Conny-catching_, less its reprint from Harman, I have spoken above, at
p. xiv. There was no good in printing the whole of it, as we should then
have had Harman twice over.

       *       *       *       *       *

The growth of the present Text was on this wise: Mr Viles suggested a
reprint of Stace's reprint of Harman in 1573, after it had been read
with the original, and collated with the earlier editions. The first
edition I could not find, but ascertained, with some trouble, and
through Mr W. C. Hazlitt, where the second and third editions were, and
borrowed the 3rd of its ever-generous owner, Mr Henry Huth. Then Mr
Hazlitt told me of Awdeley, which he thought was borrowed from Harman.
However, Harman's own words soon settled that point; and Awdeley had to
precede Harman. Then the real bagger from Harman, the _Groundworke_, had
to be added, after the Parson's Sermon. Mr Viles read the proofs and
revises of Harman with the original: Mr Wood and I have made the Index;
and I, because Mr Viles is more desperately busy than myself, have
written the Preface.


The extracts from Mr J. P. Collier must be taken for what they are
worth. I have not had time to verify them; but assume them to be
correct, and not ingeniously or unreasonably altered from their
originals, like Mr Collier's print of Henslowe's Memorial, of which Dr
Ingleby complains,[38] and like his notorious Alleyn letter. If some one
only would follow Mr Collier through all his work--pending his hoped-for
Retractations,--and assure us that the two pieces above-named, and the
Perkins Folio, are the only things we need reject, such some-one would
render a great service to all literary antiquarians, and enable them to
do justice to the wonderful diligence, knowledge, and acumen, of the
veteran pioneer in their path. Certainly, in most of the small finds
which we workers at this Text thought we had made, we afterwards found
we had been anticipated by Mr Collier's _Registers of the Stationers'
Company_, or _Bibliographical Catalogue_, and that the facts were there
rightly stated. [Header: PRINT THE STATIONERS' REGISTERS.] That there
is pure metal in Mr Collier's work, and a good deal of it, few will
doubt; but the dross needs refining out. I hope that the first step in
the process may be the printing of the whole of the Stationers'
Registers from their start to 1700 at least, by the Camden
Society,--within whose range this work well lies,--or by the new
Harleian or some other Society. It ought not to be left to the 'Early
English Text' to do some 20 years hence.

        F. J. FURNIVALL.

      _29 Nov., 1869._

    P.S. For a curious Ballad describing beggars' tricks in the 17th
    century, say about 1650, see the Roxburghe Collection, i. 42-3, and
    the Ballad Society's reprint, now in the press for 1869, i. 137-41,
    '_The cunning Northerne Beggar_': 1. he shams lame; 2. he pretends
    to be a poor soldier; 3. a sailor; 4. cripple; 5. diseased; 6.
    festered all over, and face daubed with blood; 7. blind; 8. has had
    his house burnt.


    THOMAS HARMAN'S Will (p. xiv, above) I couldn't find at Doctors'
    Commons when I searcht for it, though three John-Harman wills of his
    time turnd up.

    The print of the Stationers' Registers calld for above, has since
    been produc't by Mr. Arber, to whose energy we are all so much
    indebted for such numbers of capital texts; and the book only needs
    an Index to be of real use. The entries on p. ii, vi, vii, above,
    are in Arber's _Transcript_, i. 157, 334, 345. (See too i. 348,
    369.[39]) The Hunterian Club, Glasgow, reprinted, in 1874, S.
    Rowland's _Martin Mark-all_ (p. xvi, above) from the text of 1610,
    in its handsome edition of all Rowlands's works.

    As connected, more or less, with the Vagabonds of London, I add,
    opposite, a copy of the curious cut of the notorious Southwark
    brothel, 'Holland's Leaguer' in 1632, on which Mr. Rendle has
    commented in his "Bankside, Southwark," _Harrison_, Part II. p.
    ix-x, and the site of which is shown on the left of our first plan
    from Roque's Map, _ib._ p. 67*.

    The Brothel is shown, says Mr. Ebsworth, (_Amanda Ballads_, 1880, p.
    507*), fortified and sentried, as kept by a Mrs. Holland, before
    1631. "The picture was frontispiece of a quarto pamphlet,
    '_Holland's Leaguer; or, an Historical Discourse of the Life and
    Actions of Donna Britanica Hollandia, the Arch Mistris of the wicked
    women of Eutopia: wherein is detected the notorious sinne of
    Pandarisme_,' etc., sm. 4to. printed by A. M. for Richard Barnes,

    "Holland's Leaguer claimed to be an island out of the ordinary
    jurisdiction. The portcullis, drawbridge, moat, and wicket for
    espial, as well as an armed bully or Pandar to quell disagreeable
    intruders, if by chance they got admittance without responsible
    introduction, all point to an organized system. There were also the
    garden-walks for sauntering and 'doing a spell of embroidery, or
    fine work,' _i.e._ flirtation; the summer-house that was
    proverbially famous or infamous for intrigues, and the river
    conveniently near for disposal of awkward visitors who might have
    met with misadventure.


    "Shackerly Marmion's 'excellent comedy,' _Holland's Leaguer_, 1632,
    was reprinted in 1875, in William Paterson of Edinburgh's choice
    series, _Dramatists of the Restoration_. The fourth act gives an
    exposure of the Leaguers' garrison, where riot, disease, and robbery
    are unchecked. Thus _Trimalchio_ says,

      'I threw thy _Cerberus_ a sleepy morsel,
      And paid thy _Charon_ for my waftage over,
      And I have a golden sprig for my _Proserpina_.
    _Bawd:_ Then you are welcome, Sir!'

    [Illustration: Southwark brothel]

    "Yet before long the visitors are shouting 'Murder! Murder!'

                          'They have spoiled us
    Of our cloaks, our hats, our swords, and our money.
    My brother talked of building of a score, [_i.e._ "_Tick it._"]
    And straight they seized our cloaks for the reckoning.'"

    "The long-credit system did not suit at that establishment, where
    the health and lives of visitors were uninsured. The Proprietress
    had early declared the free list to be entirely suspended:

      'I'll take no tickets nor no future stipends.
      'Tis not false titles, or denominations
      Of offices can do it. I must have money.
      Tell them so. Draw the bridge.'--(Act iv. sc. 2.)"





[1] _Liber Vagatorum: Der Betler Orden_: First printed about 1514. Its
first section gives a special account of the several orders of the
'Fraternity of Vagabonds;' the 2nd, sundry _notabilia_ relating to them;
the 3rd consists of a 'Rotwelsche Vocabulary,' or 'Canting Dictionary.'
See a long notice in the Wiemarisches Jahrbuch, vol. 10; 1856. Hotten's
_Slang Dictionary_: Bibliography.

[2] See the back of his title-page, p. 2, below.

[3] _as well_ and _and as well_ not in the title of the 1575 edition.

[4] Compare the anecdote, p. 66, 68, 'the _last_ sommer. Anno Domini,

[5] 'now at this seconde Impression,' p. 27; 'Whyle this second
Impression was in printinge,' p. 87.

[6] Mr J. P. Collier (_Bibliographical Catalogue_, i. 365) has little
doubt that the verses at the back of the title-page of Harman's _Caveat_
were part of "a ballad intituled a description of the nature of a
birchen broom" entered at Stationers' Hall to William Griffith, the
first printer of the _Caveat_.

[7] Cp. Kente, p. 37, 43, 48, 61, 63, 66, 68, 77, &c. Moreover, the way
in which he, like a Norfolk or Suffolk man, speaks of _shires_, points
to a liver in a non -_shire_.

[8] In _Martin Mark-all, Beadle of Bridewell_, 1610, quoted below, at p.

[9] Compare his 'ride to Dartforde to speake with a priest there,' p.

[10] "John Harman, Esquyer, one of the gentilmen hushers of the Chambre
of our soverayn Lady the Quene, and the excellent Lady Dame Dorothye
Gwydott, widow, late of the town of Southampton, married Dec. 21, 1567."
(Extract from the register of the parish of Stratford Bow, given in p.
499, vol. iii. of Lysons's _Environs of London_.)

[11] Philipott, p. 108. Henry Harman bore for his arms--Argent, a
chevron between 3 scalps sable.

[12] Of whose daughters, Mary married John, eldest son of Wm. Lovelace,
of Hever in Kingsdown, in this county; and Elizabeth married John
Lennard, Prothonotary, and afterwards _Custos Brevium_ of the Common
Pleas. See Chevening.

[13] See Robinson's Gavelkind, p. 300.

[14] She was of consanguinity to Abp. Chicheley. _Stemm. Chich._ No.
106. Thomas Harman had three daughters: Anne, who married Wm. Draper, of
Erith, and lies buried there; Mary, who married Thomas Harrys; and
Bridget, who was the wife of Henry Binneman. _Ibid._

[15] In the first edition of Holinshed (1577) this chapter is the 5th in
Book III. of Harrison's _Description_.

[16] Not in ed. 1577.

[17] _thorow_ in ed. 1577.

[18] _piteous_ in ed. 1577.

[19] _lament_ in ed. 1577.

[20] The remainder of this paragraph is not in ed. 1577.

[21] Not in ed. 1577.

[22] Compare _Harman_, p. 48.

[23] The 1577 ed. inserts _horrible_.

[24] The 1577 ed. reads _fifty_.

[25] The 1577 ed. reads 22, which is evidently an error.

[26] For these words the 1577 ed. reads _gather_.

[27] The above list is taken from the titles of the chapters in Harman's

[28] Not in the 1577 ed.

[29] These words are substituted for _which they disfigure to begg
withal_ in the 1577 ed.

[30] The 1577 ed. inserts _bearwards_.

[31] Not in 1577 ed.

[32] These three sentences are not in 1577 ed.

[33] Hazlitt's _Hand Book_, p. 241.

[34] Leader of the Choir. Captain of the Company.

[35] Where at this day the Rogues of the North part, once euerie three
yeeres, assemble in the night, because they will not be seene and
espied; being a place, to those that know it, verie fit for that
purpos,--it being hollow, and made spacious vnder ground; at first, by
estimation, halfe a mile in compasse; but it hath such turnings and
roundings in it, that a man may easily be lost if hee enter not with a

[36] Of the above passages, Dekker speaks in the following
manner:--"There is an Vsurper, that of late hath taken vpon him the name
of the Belman; but being not able to maintaine that title, hee doth now
call himselfe the Bel-mans brother; his ambition is (rather out of
vaine-glory then the true courage of an experienced Souldier) to haue
the leading of the Van; but it shall be honor good enough for him (if
not too good) to come vp with the Rere. You shall know him by his
Habiliments, for (by the furniture he weares) he will be taken for a
_Beadle of Bridewell_. It is thought he is rather a Newter then a friend
to the cause: and therefore the Bel-man doth here openly protest that
hee comes into the field as no fellow in armes with him."--_O per se O_
(1612 edit.), sign. A. 2.

[37] We quote from four out of the five tracts contained in the volume.
The title of the tract we do not quote is '_Hanging not Punishment
enough_,' etc., London, 1701.

[38] To obviate the possibility of mistake in the lection of this
curious document, Mr E. W. Ashbee has, at my request, and by permission
of the Governors of Dulwich College (where the paper is preserved),
furnished me with an exact fac-simile of it, worked off on somewhat
similar paper. By means of this fac-simile my readers may readily assure
themselves that in no part of the memorial is Lodge called a "player;"
indeed he is not called "Thos. Lodge," and it is only an inference, an
unavoidable conclusion, that the Lodge here spoken of is Thomas Lodge,
the dramatist. Mr Collier, however, professes to find that he is there
called "Thos. Lodge," and that it [the Memorial] contains this
remarkable grammatical inversion;

    "and haveinge some knowledge and acquaintaunce of him as a player,
    requested me to be his baile,"

which is evidently intended to mean, _as I had some knowledge and
acquaintance of Lodge as a player, he requested me to be his baile_. But
in this place the original paper reads thus,

    "and havinge of me some knowledge and acquaintaunce requested me to
    be his bayle,"

meaning, of course, _Lodge, having some knowledge and acquaintance of me
requested me to be his bail_.

The interpolation of the five words needed to corroborate Mr Collier's
explanation of the misquoted passage from Gosson, and the omission of
two other words inconsistent with that interpolation, may be thought to
exhibit some little ingenuity; it was, however, a feat which could have
cost him no great pains. But the labour of recasting the orthography of
the memorial must have been considerable; while it is difficult to
imagine a rational motive to account for such labour being incurred. To
expand the abbreviations and modernize the orthography might have been
expedient, as it would have been easy. But, in the name of reason, what
is the gain of writing _wheare_ and _theare_ for "where" and "there;"
_cleere_, _yeeld_, and _meerly_ for "clere," "yealde," and "merely;"
_verie_, _anie_, _laie_, _waie_, _paie_, _yssue_, and _pryvily_, for
"very," "any," "lay," "way," "pay," "issue," and "privylie;" _sondrie_,
_begon_, and _doen_ for "sundrie," "began," and "don;" and _thintent_,
_thaction_, and _thacceptaunce_ for "the intent," "the action," and "the
acceptaunce"?--p. 14 of Dr C. M. Ingleby's '_Was Thomas Lodge an Actor?
An Exposition touching the Social Status of the Playwright in the time
of Queen Elizabeth._' Printed for the Author by R. Barrett and Sons, 13
Mark Lane, 1868. 2_s._ 6_d._

[39] i. 270: A ballett intituled _Tom Tell Truth_, A.D. 1565; and i.
307, 'an interlude, _the Cruell Detter_ by Wager,' licenst to Colwell in

    _THE Fraternitye of Vacabondes._

    As wel of ruflyng Vacabondes, as of beggerly, of women as of men, of
    Gyrles as of Boyes, with _their proper names and qualities_.

    With a description of the crafty company of =Cousoners and

    ¶ Wherunto also is adioyned =the .xxv. Orders of Knaues=, otherwyse
    called =a Quartern of Knaues=. _Confirmed for euer by Cocke Lorell._

                    ( * )

            ¶ +The Vprightman speaketh.+

        ¶ Our Brotherhood[40] of Vacabondes,
          If you would know where dwell:
        In graues end Barge which syldome standes.
          The talke wyll shew ryght well.

            ¶ +Cocke Lorell aunswereth.+

        ¶ Some orders of my Knaues also
          In that Barge shall ye fynde:
        For no where shall ye walke I trow,
          But ye shall see their kynde.

           *       *       *       *       *

    ¶ Imprinted at London by Iohn Awdeley, dwellyng in little Britayne
    streete without Aldersgate.


  *[leaf 1b.]* ¶ _The Printer to the Reader._

    THis brotherhood of Vacabondes,
    To shew that there be such in deede
    Both Iustices and men of Landes,
    Wyll testifye it if it neede.
        For at a Sessions as they sat,
        By chaunce a Vacabond was got.

    ¶ Who promysde if they would him spare,
    And keepe his name from knowledge then:
    He would as straunge a thing declare,
    As euer they knew synce they were men.
      But if my fellowes do know (sayd he)
      That thus I dyd, they would kyll me.

    ¶ They graunting him this his request,
    He dyd declare as here is read,
    Both names and states of most and least,
    Of this their Vacabondes brotherhood.
      Which at the request of a worshipful man
      I haue set it forth as well as I can.


    *[leaf 2]* ¶ The =Fraternitye of Vacabondes= both rufling and
    beggerly, =Men and women, Boyes and Gyrles=, wyth their proper names
    and qualities.

    Whereunto are adioyned =the company of Cousoners and Shifters=.


AN Abraham man is he that walketh bare armed, and bare legged, and
fayneth hym selfe mad, and caryeth a packe of wool, or a stycke with
baken on it, or such lyke toy, and nameth himselfe poore Tom.


A Ruffeler goeth wyth a weapon to seeke seruice, saying he hath bene a
Seruitor in the wars, and beggeth for his reliefe. But his chiefest
trade is to robbe poore wayfaring men and market women.


A Prygman goeth with a stycke in hys hand like an idle person. His
propertye is to steale cloathes of the hedge, which they call storing of
the Rogeman: or els filtch Poultry, carying them to the Alehouse, whych
they call the Bowsyng In, & ther syt playing at cardes and dice, tyl
that is spent which they haue so fylched.



A Whypiacke is one, that by coulor of a counterfaite Lisence (which they
call a Gybe, and the seales they cal Iarckes) doth vse to beg lyke a
Maryner, But hys chiefest trade is to rob Bowthes in a Faire, or to
pilfer ware fro_m_ staules, which they cal heauing of the Bowth.


A Frater goeth wyth a like Lisence to beg for some Spittlehouse or
Hospital. Their pray is co_m_monly vpo_n_ *[leaf 2b.]* poore women as
they go and come to the Markets.


A Quire bird is one that came lately out of prison, & goeth to seeke
seruice. He is co_m_monly a stealer of Horses, which they terme a
Priggar of Paulfreys.


An Vpright man is one that goeth wyth the trunchion of a staffe, which
staffe they cal a Filtchma_n_. This man is of so much authority, that
meeting with any of his profession, he may cal them to accompt, &
co_m_maund a share or snap vnto him selfe, of al that they haue gained
by their trade in one moneth. And if he doo them wrong, they haue no
remedy agaynst hym, no though he beate them, as he vseth co_m_monly to
do. He may also co_m_maund any of their women, which they cal Doxies, to
serue his turne. He hath y_e_ chiefe place at any market walke, & other
assembles, & is not of any to be co_n_troled.


A Curtall is much like to the Vpright man, but hys authority is not
fully so great. He vseth commonly to go with a short cloke, like to grey
Friers, & his woman with him in like liuery, which he calleth his Altham
if she be hys wyfe, & if she be his harlot, she is called hys Doxy.


A Palliard is he that goeth in a patched cloke, and hys Doxy goeth in
like apparell.


An Irishe toyle is he that carieth his ware in hys wallet, as laces,
pins, poyntes, and such like. He vseth to shew no wares vntill he haue
his almes. And if the good man and wyfe be not in the way, he procureth
of the ch[i]lldre_n_ or seruants a fleece of wool, or the worth of
xij.d. of some other thing, for a peniworth of his wares.

*[leaf 3]* ¶ A IACK MAN.

A Iackeman is he that can write and reade, and somtime speake latin. He
vseth to make counterfaite licences which they call Gybes, and sets to
Seales, in their language called Iarkes.


A Swygman goeth with a Pedlers pack.


A Washman is called a Palliard, but not of the right making. He vseth to
lye in the hye way with lame or sore legs or armes to beg. These me_n_
y_e_ right Pilliards wil often times spoile, but they dare not
co_m_playn. They be bitten with Spickworts, & somtime with rats bane.


A Tinkard leaueth his bag a sweating at the Alehouse, which they terme
their Bowsing In, and in the meane season goeth abrode a begging.


A wilde Roge is he that hath no abiding place but by his coulour of
going abrode to beg, is commonly to seeke some kinsman of his, and all
that be of hys corporation be properly called Roges.


A Kitchin Co is called an ydle runagate Boy.


A Kitchin Mortes is a Gyrle, she is brought at her full age to the
Vpryght man to be broken, and so she is called a Doxy, vntil she come to
ye honor of an Altham.


Note especially all which go abroade working laces and shirt stringes,
they name them Doxies.


A Patriarke Co doth make mariages, & that is vntill *[leaf 3b.]* death
depart the maried folke, which is after this sort: When they come to a
dead Horse or any dead Catell, then they shake hands and so depart euery
one of them a seuerall way.



A Curtesy man is one that walketh about the back lanes in London in the
day time, and sometime in the broade streetes in the night season, and
when he meeteth some handsome yong man clenly apareled, or some other
honest Citizen, he maketh humble salutatio_n_s and low curtesy, and
sheweth him that he hath a worde or two to speake with his mastership.
This child can behaue him selfe manerly, for he wyll desire him that he
talketh withall, to take the vpper hand, and shew him much reuerence,
and at last like his familier acquaintaunce will put on his cap, and
walke syde by syde, and talke on this fashion: Oh syr, you seeme to be a
man, and one that fauoureth men, and therefore I am the more bolder to
breake my mind vnto your good maistership. Thus it is syr, ther is a
certaine of vs (though I say it both taule and handsome men of theyr
hands) which haue come lately from the wars, and as God knoweth haue
nothing to take to, being both maisterles and moniles, & knowing no way
wherby to yerne one peny. And further, wher as we haue bene welthely
brought vp, and we also haue beene had in good estimatio_n_, we are a
shamed now to declare our misery, and to fall a crauing as common
Beggers, and as for to steale and robbe, (God is our record) it striketh
vs to *[leaf 4]* the hart, to thinke of such a mischiefe, that euer any
handsome man should fall into such a daunger for thys worldly trash.
Which if we had to suffise our want and necessity, we should neuer seeke
thus shamefastly to craue on such good pityfull men as you seeme to be,
neither yet so daungerously to hasarde our liues for so vyle a thing.
Therefore good syr, as you seeme to be a handsome man your selfe, and
also such a one as pitieth the miserable case of handsome men, as now
your eyes and countenaunce sheweth to haue some pity vppon this my
miserable complainte: So in Gods cause I require your maistershyp, & in
the behalfe of my poore afflicted fellowes, which though here in sight
they cry not with me to you, yet wheresouer they bee, I am sure they cry
vnto God to moue the heartes of some good men to shew forth their
liberality in this behalfe. All which & I with them craue now the same
request at your good masterships hand. With these or such like words he
frameth his talke. Now if the party (which he thus talketh withall)
profereth hym a peny or .ii.d. he taketh it, but verye scornfully, and
at last speaketh on this sorte: Well syr, your good will is not to be
refused. But yet you shall vnderstand (good syr) that this is nothing
for them, for whom I do thus shamefastly entreate. Alas syr, it is not a
groate or .xii.d. I speake for, being such a company of Seruiters as wee
haue bene: yet neuertheles God forbid I should not receiue your ge_n_tle
offer at this time, hoping hereafter through your good motions to some
such lyke good gentleman as you be, that I, or some of my fellowes in my
place, shall finde the more liberality. These kind of ydle Vacabondes
wyll go commonly well appareled, without *[leaf 4b.]* any weapon, and in
place where they meete together, as at their hosteryes or other places,
they wyll beare the port of ryght good gentlemen, & some are the more
trusted, but co_m_monly thei pay them w_i_t_h_ stealing a paire of
sheetes, or Couerlet, & so take their farewell earely in the morning,
before the mayster or dame be sturring.


These commonly be such kinde of idle Vacabondes as scarcely a man shall
discerne, they go so gorgeously, sometime with waiting men, and sometime
without. Their trade is to walke in such places, where as gentelmen &
other worshipfull Citizens do resorte, as at Poules, or at Christes
Hospital, & somtime at ye Royal exchaunge. These haue very many
acquaintaunces, yea, and for the most part will acquaint them selues
with euery man, and fayne a society, in one place or other. But chiefly
they wil seeke their acquaintaunce of such (which they haue learned by
diligent enquiring where they resort) as haue receyued some porcioun of
money of their friends, as yong Gentlemen which are sent to London to
study the lawes, or els some yong Marchant man or other kynde of
Occupier, whose friendes hath geuen them a stock of mony[41] to occupy
withall. When they haue thus found out such a pray, they will find the
meanes by theyr familiarity, as very curteously to bid him to breakefast
at one place or other, where they are best acquainted, and closely
amonge themselues wil appoint one of their Fraternity, which they call a
Fyngerer, an olde beaten childe, not onely in such deceites, but also
such a one as by his age is painted out with gray heares, wrinkled face,
crooked back, and most commonly lame, as it might seeme with age, *[leaf
5]* yea and such a one as to shew a simplicity, shal weare a homely
cloke and hat scarce worth .vi. d. This nimble fingred knight (being
appointed to this place) co_m_meth in as one not knowen of these
Cheatours, but as vnwares shal sit down at the end of the bord where
they syt, & call for his peny pot of wine, or a pinte of Ale, as the
place serueth. Thus sitting as it were alone, mumblyng on a crust, or
some such thing, these other yonckers wil finde some kind of mery talke
with him, some times questioning wher he dwelleth, & sometimes enquiring
what trade he vseth, which co_m_monly he telleth them he vseth
husbandry: & talking thus merely, at last they aske him, how sayest
thou, Father, wylt thou play for thy breakfast with one of vs, that we
may haue some pastime as we syt? Thys olde Karle makyng it straunge at
the first saith: My maysters, ich am an old man, and halfe blinde, and
can skyl of very few games, yet for that you seeme to be such good
Gentelmen, as to profer to play for that of which you had no part, but
onely I my selfe, and therefore of right ich am worthy to pay for it, I
shal with al my hart fulfyl your request. And so falleth to play,
somtime at Cardes & sometime at dice. Which through his cou_n_terfait
simplicity in the play somtimes ouer counteth himself, or playeth
somtimes against his wyl, so as he would not, & then counterfaiteth to
be angry, and falleth to swearing, & so leesing that, profereth to play
for a shillyng or two. The other therat hauing good sport, seming to
mocke him, falleth againe to play, and so by their legerdemane, &
cou_n_terfaiting, winneth ech of them a shilling or twain, & at last
whispereth the yong man in the eare to play with hym also, that ech one
might haue a fling at him. *[leaf 5b.]* This yong ma_n_ for company
falleth againe to play also with the sayd Fyngerer, and winneth as the
other did which when he had loste a noble or .vi. s. maketh as though he
had lost al his mony, and falleth a intreating for parte thereof againe
to bring him home, which the other knowing his mind and intent, stoutely
denieth and iesteth, & scoffeth at him. This Fingerer seeming then to be
in a rage, desireth the_m_ as they are true gentlemen, to tarry till he
fetcheth more store of money, or els to point some place where they may
meete. They seeming greedy hereof, promiseth faithfully and clappeth
handes so to meete. They thus ticklyng the young man in the eare,
willeth him to make as much money as he can, and they wil make as much
as they can, and co_n_sent as though they wil play booty against him.
But in the ende they so vse the matter, that both the young man leeseth
his part, and, as it seemeth to him, they leesing theirs also, and so
maketh as though they would fal together by the eares with this
fingerer, which by one wyle or other at last conueyeth him selfe away, &
they as it were raging lyke mad bedlams, one runneth one way, an other
an other way, leauing the loser indeede all alone. Thus these Cheatours
at their accustomed hosteries meete closely together, and there receiue
ech one his part of this their vile spoyle. Of this fraternity there be
that be called helpers, which commonly haunt tauernes or alehouses, and
co_m_meth in as men not acquainted with none in the companye, but spying
them at any game, wil byd them God spede and God be at their game, and
will so place him selfe that he will shew his fellow by sygnes and
tokens, without speech commonly, but sometime with far fetched *[leaf
6]* wordes, what cardes he hath in his hand, and how he may play against
him. And those betwene the_m_ both getteth money out of the others


A Ryng faller is he that getteth fayre copper rings, some made like
signets, & some after other fashio_n_s, very faire gylded, & walketh vp
and down the streetes, til he spieth some man of the country, or some
other simple body whom he thinketh he may deceaue, and so goeth a lyttle
before him or them, and letteth fall one of these ringes, which when the
party that commeth after spieth and taketh it vp, he hauing an eye
backward, crieth halfe part, the party that taketh it vp, thinking it to
be of great value, profereth him some money for his part, which he not
fully denieth, but willeth him to come into some alehouse or tauerne,
and there they will common vpon the matter. Which when they come in, and
are set in some solitary place (as commonly they call for such a place)
there he desireth the party that found the ring to shew it him. When he
seeth it, he falleth a entreating the party that found it, and desireth
him to take money for his part, and telleth him that if euer he may do
him any frendship hereafter he shal commaund him, for he maketh as
though he were very desirous to haue it. The symple man seeing him so
importune vpon it, thinketh the ring to bee of great valure, and so is
the more lother to part from it. At last this ring faller asketh him
what he will geue him for his part, for, saith he, seeing you wyl not
let me haue the ring, alowe me my part, and take you the ring. The other
asketh what he counteth the ring to be worth, he answereth, v. or vi.
pound. No, saith he, it is not so much worth. *[leaf 6b.]* Well (saith
this Ringfaller) let me haue it, and I wyll alow you .xl. s. for your
part. The other party standyng in a doubt, and looking on the ryng,
asketh if he wyll geue the money out of hand. The other answereth, he
hath not so much ready mony about him, but he wil go fetch so much for
him, if he wil go with him. The other that found the ring, thinking he
meaneth truly, beginneth to profer him .xx. s. for his part, sometymes
more, or les, which he verye scornfullye refuseth at the first, and styl
entreateth that he might haue the ring, which maketh the other more
fonder of it, and desireth him to take the money for his part, & so
profereth him money. This ring faller seing y^{e} mony, maketh it very
strau_n_ge, and first questioneth with him wher he dwelleth, and asketh
him what is his name, & telleth him that he semeth to be an honest man,
and therfore he wil do somwhat for friendships sake, hoping to haue as
friendly a pleasure at his hand hereafter, and so profereth hym for .x.
s. more he should haue the ryng. At last, with entreatye on both partes,
he geueth the Ring faller the money, and so departeth, thinkyng he hath
gotten a very great Iewell. These kynde of deceyuing Vacabondes haue
other practises with their rings, as somtimes to come to buy wares of
mens Prentesies, and somtimes of their Maisters, and when he hath agreed
of the price, he sayth he hath not so much money about him, but pulleth
of one of these rings of from his fyngers, and profereth to leaue it in
pawne, tyl his Maister or his friendes hath sene it, so promising to
bring the money, the seller thinking he meaneth truly, letteth him go,
and neuer seeth him after, tyll perhaps at Tyburne or at such lyke
place. Ther is another kinde of *[leaf 7]* these Ring choppers, which
co_m_monly cary about them a faire gold ring in deede, and these haue
other counterfait rings made so lyke this gold ring, as ye shal not
perceiue the contrary, tyl it be brought to y^{e} touchstone. This child
wyl come to borow mony of the right gold ring, the party mistrusting the
Ring not to be good, goeth to the Goldsmith with the partye that hath
the ryng, and tryeth it whether it be good golde, and also wayeth it to
know how much it is worth. The Goldsmith tryeth it to be good gold, and
also to haue hys ful weight like gold, and warenteth the party which
shall lend the money that the ring is worth so much money according to
the waight, this yoncker comming home with the party which shall lend
the money, and hauing the gold ring againe, putteth vp the gold ring,
and pulleth out a counterfaite ring very like the same, & so deliuereth
it to the party which lendeth the money, they thinking it to be the same
which they tryed, and so deliuereth the money or sometimes wares, and
thus vily be deceiued.


[40] _Orig._ Brothethood.

[41] _Orig._ mony.

    ¶ _THE_ .XXV. =Orders of Knaues=, _otherwise called_ =a quarterne of
    Knaues=, _confirmed for euer by Cocke Lorell_.


TRoll and Trol by, is he that setteth naught by no man, nor no man by
him. This is he that would beare rule in a place, and hath none
authority nor thanke, & at last is thrust out of the doore like a knaue.


Troll with is he _tha_t no man shall know the seruaunt from y^{e}
Maister. This knaue with his cap on his head *[leaf 7b.]* lyke Capon
hardy, wyll syt downe by his Maister, or els go cheeke by cheeke with
him in the streete.


Troll hazard of trace is he that goeth behynde his Maister as far as he
may see hym. Such knaues commonly vse to buy Spice-cakes, Apples, or
other trifles, and doo eate them as they go in the streetes lyke
vacabond Boyes.



Troll hazard of tritrace, is he that goeth gaping after his Master,
looking to and fro tyl he haue lost him. This knaue goeth gasyng about
lyke a foole at euery toy, and then seeketh in euery house lyke a
Maisterles dog, and when his Maister nedeth him, he is to seeke.


Chafe Litter is he that wyll plucke vp the Fether-bed or Matrice, and
pysse in the bedstraw, and wyl neuer ryse vncalled. This knaue berayeth
many tymes in the corners of his Maisters chamber, or other places
inconuenient, and maketh cleane hys shooes with the couerlet or


Obloquium is hee that wyll take a tale out of his Maisters mouth and
tell it him selfe. He of right may be called a malapart knaue.


Rince Pytcher is he that will drinke out his thrift at the ale or wine,
and be oft times dronke. This is a licoryce knaue that will swill his
Maisters drink, and brybe his meate that is kept for him.


Jeffery Gods Fo is he, that wil sweare & maintaine *[leaf 8]* othes.
This is such a lying knaue that none wil beleue him, for the more he
sweareth, y_e_ les he is to be beleued.


Nichol Hartles is he, that when he should do ought for his Maister hys
hart faileth him. This is a Trewand knaue that faineth himselfe sicke
when he should woorke.


Simon soone agon is he, that when his Mayster hath any thing to do, he
wil hide him out of the way. This is a loytring knaue that wil hide him
in a corner and sleepe or els run away.


Greene Winchard is he, that when his hose is broken and hange out at his
shoes, he will put them into his shooes againe with a stick, but he wyll
not amend them. This is a slouthfull knaue, that had leauer go lyke a
begger then cleanly.


Proctour is he, that will tary long, and bring a lye, when his Maister
sendeth him on his errand. This is a stibber gibber Knaue, that doth
fayne tales.


Commitour of Tidings is he, that is ready to bring his Maister Nouels
and tidinges, whether they be true or false. This is a tale bearer
knaue, that wyll report words spoken in his Maisters presence.


Gyle Hather is he, that wyll stand by his Maister when he is at dinner,
and byd him beware that he eate no raw meate, because he would eate it
himselfe. This is a pickthanke knaue, that would make his Maister *[leaf
8b.]* beleue that the Cowe is woode.


Bawde Phisicke, is he that is a Cocke, when his Maysters meate is euyll
dressed, and he challenging him therefore, he wyl say he wyll eate the
rawest morsel thereof him selfe. This is a sausye knaue, that wyl
contrary his Mayster alway.


Mounch present is he that is a great gentleman, for when his Mayster
sendeth him with a present, he wil take a tast thereof by the waye. This
is a bold knaue, that sometyme will eate the best and leaue the worst
for his Mayster.


Cole Prophet is he, that when his Maister sendeth him on his errand, he
wyl tel his answer therof to his Maister or he depart from hym. This
tittiuell knaue commonly maketh the worst of the best betwene hys
Maister and his friende.


Cory fauell is he, that wyl lye in his bed, and cory the bed bordes in
which hee lyeth in steede of his horse. This slouthfull knaue wyll
buskill and scratch when he is called in the morning, for any hast.


Dyng thrift is he, that wil make his Maisters horse eate pies and rybs
of beefe, and drinke ale and wyne. Such false knaues oft tymes, wil sell
their Maisters meate to their owne profit.


Esen Droppers bene they, that stand vnder mens wales or windowes, or in
any other place, to heare the *[leaf 9]* secretes of a mans house. These
misdeming knaues wyl stand in corners to heare if they be euill spoken
of, or waite a shrewd turne.


Choplogyke, is he that when his mayster rebuketh him of hys fault he
wyll geue hym .xx. wordes for one, els byd the deuils Pater noster in
silence. This proude prating knaue wyll maintaine his naughtines when he
is rebuked for them.


Vnthrift, is he that wil not put his wearing clothes to washing, nor
black his owne shoes, nor amend his his (_sic_) own wearing clothes.
This rechles knaue wyl alway be lousy: and say that hee hath no more
shift of clothes, and slaunder his Maister.


Vngracious, is he _tha_t by his own will, will heare no maner of
seruice, without he be compelled therunto by his rulers. This Knaue wil
sit at the alehouse drinking or playing at dice, or at other games at
seruice tyme.


Nunquam, is he that when his Maister sendeth him on his errand he wil
not come againe of an hour or two where he might haue done it in halfe
an houre or lesse. This knaue will go about his owne errand or pastime
and saith he cannot speede at the first.


Ingratus, is he that when one doth all that he can for him, he will
scant geue him a good report for his labour. This knaue is so ingrate or
vnkind, _tha_t he considreth not his frend fro_m_ his fo, & wil requit
euil for good & being put most in trust, wil sonest deceiue his maister.


       *       *       *       *       *

   *[leaf 9b.]* Imprinted at London by Iohn Awdely dwelling in
   little Britaine streete without Aldersgate.


[Original in Bodleian Library, 4º. R. 21. Art. Seld.]

    =Vagabones, set forth by Thomas Harman, Esquiere, for the utilite
    and proffyt of his naturall Cuntrey. Augmented and inlarged by the
    fyrst author here of.=

  _Anno Domini. M.D.LXVII._

   ¶ _Vewed, examined, and allowed, according vnto the Queenes Maiestyes


    ¶ =Imprinted at London, in Fletestrete, at the signe of the Falcon,
    by= _Wylliam Gryffith_, =and are to be sold at his shoppe in Saynt
    Dunstones Churche yarde, in the West. Anno Domini. 1567.=

    [The Bodley edition of 1567 omits 'or Warening' in line 1, and 'Anno
        Domini. 1567.' at foot; and substitutes 'Newly Augmented and
        Imprinted' for 'Augmented ... here of', line 6.]


*[leaf 2]*

¶ To the ryght honorable and my singular good Lady, Elizabeth Countes
of Shrewsbury, Thomas Harman wisheth all ioye and perfite felicitie,
here and in the worlde to come.

AS of Auncient and longe tyme there hath bene, and is now at this
present, many good, godly, profitable lawes and actes made and setforthe
in this most noble and floryshynge realme, for the reliefe, succour,
comforte, and sustentacion of the poore, nedy, impotent, and myserable
creatures beinge and inhabiting in all parts of the same; So is there
(ryghte honorable and myne especyall good Lady) most holsom estatutes,
ordinances, and necessary lawes, made, setforth, and publisshed, for the
extreme punishement of all vagarantes and sturdy vacabons, as passeth
throughe and by all parts of this famous yle, most idelly and wyckedly:
and I wel, by good experience, vnderstandinge and consideringe your most
tender, pytyfull, gentle, and noble nature,--not onelye hauinge a
vygelant and mercifull eye to your poore, indygente, and feable
parishnores; yea, not onely in the parishe where your honour moste
happely doth dwell, but also in others inuyroninge or nighe adioyning to
the same; As also aboundantly powringe out dayely your ardent and
bountifull charytie vppon all such as commeth for reliefe vnto your
luckly gates,--

I thought it good, necessary, and my bounden dutye, to acquaynte your
goodnes with the abhominable, wycked, and detestable behauor of all
these rowsey, ragged rabblement of rakehelles, that--vnder the pretence
of great misery, dyseases, and other innumerable calamites whiche they
fayne--through great hipocrisie do wyn and gayne great almes in all
places where they wyly wander, to the vtter deludinge of the good
geuers, deceauinge and impouerishing of all such poore housholders, both
sicke and sore, as nether can or maye walke abroad for reliefe and
comforte (where, in dede, most mercy is to be shewed). And for that I
(most honorable Lady), beinge placed as a poore gentleman, haue kepte a
house these twenty yeares, where vnto pouerty dayely hath and doth
repayre, not without some reliefe, as my poore callinge and habylytie
maye and doth extende: I haue of late yeares gathered a great suspition
that all should not be well, and, as the prouerbe saythe, "sume thinge
lurke and laye hyd that dyd not playnely apeare;" for I, hauinge more
occation, throughe sickenes, to tary and remayne at home then I haue
bene acustomed, do, by my there abyding, talke [42]and confere dayly
with many of these wyly wanderars of both sortes, as well men and
wemmen, as boyes and gyrles, by whom I haue *[leaf 2, back]* gathered
and vnderstande their depe dissimulation and detestable dealynge, beinge
maruelous suttle and craftye in there kynde, for not one amongst twenty
wyll discouer, eyther declare there scelorous secretes: yet with fayre
flatteringe wordes, money, and good chere, I haue attained to the typ by
such as the meanest of them hath wandred these xiii. yeares, and most
xvi. and some twenty and vpward,[43] and not withoute faythfull promesse
made vnto them neuer to discouer their names or any thinge they shewed
me; for they would all saye, yf the vpright men should vnderstand
thereof, they should not be only greuouslye beaten, but put in daunger
of their lyues, by the sayd vpright men. There was a fewe yeares since a
small bréefe setforth of some zelous man to his countrey, of whom I
knowe not, that made a lytle shewe of there names and vsage, and gaue a
glymsinge lyghte, not sufficient to perswade of their peuishe peltinge
and pickinge[44] practyses, but well worthy of prayse. But (good
madame), with nolesse trauell then good wyll, I haue repayred and rygged
the Shyp of knowledge, and haue hoyssed vp the sayles of good fortune,
that she maye safely passe aboute and through all partes of this noble
realme, and there make porte sale of her wyshed wares, to the confusion
of their drowsey demener and vnlawfull language, pylfring pycking, wily
wanderinge, and lykinge lechery, of all these rablement of rascales that
raunges about al _th_e costes of the same, So _tha_t their vndecent,
dolefull dealing and execrable exercyses may apere to all as it were in
a glasse, that therby the Iusticers _and_ Shréeues may in their circutes
be more vygelant to punishe these malefactores, and the Counstables,
Bayliffes, and bosholders,[45] settinge asyde all feare, slouth, _and_
pytie, may be more circomspect in executing the charg geuen them by the
aforesayd Iusticers. Then wyll no more this rascall rablement raunge
about the countrey. Then greater reliefe may be shewed to _th_e pouerty
of eche parishe. Then shall we kepe our Horses in our pastures vnstolen.
Then our lynnen clothes shall and maye lye safelye one our hedges
vntouched. Then shall we not haue our clothes and lynnen hoked out at
our wyndowes as well by day as by night. Then shall we not haue our
houses broken vp in the night, as of late one of my nyghtbors had and
two great buckes of clothes stolen out, and most of the same fyne
Lynnen. Then shall we safely kepe our pigges and poultrey from pylfring.
Then shall we surely passe by [46]_th_e hygh waies leading to markets
_and_ fayres vnharmed. Then shall our Shopes and bothes be vnpycked
_and_ spoyled. Then shall these vncomly companies be dispersed and set
to labour for their lyuinge, or hastely hang for *[leaf 3]* their
demerites. Then shall it incourrage a great number of gentle men and
others, seing this securitie, to set vp houses and kepe hospitalytie in
the countrey, to the comfort of their nighboures, releife of the poore,
and to the amendement of the common welth. Then shall not sinne and
wickednes so much abound among vs. Then wil gods wrath be much _th_e
more pacified towards vs. Then shall we not tast of so many and sondry
plages, as now dayely raigneth ouer vs. And then shall this Famous
Empyre be in more welth _and_ better florysh, to the inestymable ioye
_and_ comfort of the Quenes most excelent maiestye, whom god of his
infinyte goodnes, to his great glory, long and many yeares make most
prosperously to raygne ouer vs, to the great Felycitye of all the Peres
and Nobles, and to the vnspeakable ioye, releife, and quietnes of minde,
of all her faythfull Commons _and_ Subiectes. Now, me thinketh, I se how
these peuysh, peruerse, and pestile_n_t people begyn to freat, fume,
sweare, and stare at this my booke, their lyfe being layd open and
aparantly paynted out, that their confusion and end draweth one a pase.
Where as in dede, if it be well waied, it is set forth for their
synguler profyt and co_m_moditie, for the sure safegard of their lyues
here in this world, that they shorten not the same before[47] their
time, and that by their true labour and good lyfe, in the world to com
they may saue their Soules, that Christ, the second person in [the]
Trinytie, hath so derely bought wit_h_ his most precious bloud: so that
hereby I shall do them more good then they could haue deuised for them
selues. For behold, their lyfe being so manyfest wycked and so
aparantlye knowen, The honorable wyl abhore them, The worshipfull wyll
reiecte them, The yemen wyll sharpely tawnte them, The Husband men
vtterly defye them, The laboryng men bluntly chyde them, The wemen with
a loud exclamation[48] wonder at them, And all Children with clappinge
handes crye out at them. I manye times musing with my selfe at these
mischeuous misliuers, merueled when they toke their oryginall _and_
beginning; how long they haue exercised their execrable wandring about.
I thought it méete to confer with a very old man that I was well
acquaynted with, whose wyt _and_ memory is meruelous for his yeares,
beinge about the age of fourescore, what he knewe when he was yonge of
these lousey leuterars. And he shewed me, that when he was yonge he
wayted vpon a man of much worshyp in Kent, who died immediatly after the
last Duke of Buckingham was beheaded: at his buryall there was such a
number of beggers, besides poore housholders dwelling there abouts, that
vnneth they mighte lye or stande aboute the House: then was there *[leaf
3, back]* prepared for them a great and a large barne, and a great fat
oxe sod out in Furmenty for them, with bread _and_ drinke aboundantly to
furnesh out the premisses; and euery person had two pence, for such was
the dole. When Night approched, _th_e pore housholders repaired home to
their houses: the other wayfaring bold beggers remained alnight in _th_e
barne; and the same barne being serched with light in the night by this
old man (and then yonge), with[49] others, they tolde seuen score
persons of men, euery of them hauing his woma_n_, except it were two
wemen that lay alone to gether for some especyall cause. Thus hauing
their makes to make mery withall, the buriall was turned to bousing
_and_ belly chere, morning to myrth, fasting to feasting, prayer to
pastyme _and_ pressing of papes, and lamenting to Lechery. So that it
may apere this vncomly company hath had a long continuance, but then
nothinge geuen so much to pylferinge, pyckinge, and spoyling; and, as
far as I can learne or vnderstand by the examination of a number of
them, their languag--which they terme peddelars Frenche or
Canting--began but within these xxx. yeeres,[50] lytle aboue; and that
the first inuenter therof was hanged, all saue the head; for that is the
fynall end of them all, or els to dye of some filthy and horyble
diseases: but much harme is don in the meane space by their continuance,
as some x., xii., and xvi. yeares before they be consumed, and the
number of them doth dayly renew. I hope their synne is now at the
hyghest; and that as short and as spedy a redresse wylbe for these, as
hath bene of late yeres for _th_e wretched, wily, wandering vagabonds
calling and naming them selues Egiptians, depely dissembling and long
hyding _and_ couering their depe, decetfull practises,--feding the rude
common people, wholy addicted and geuen to nouelties, toyes, and new
inuentions,--delyting them with the strangenes of the attyre of their
heades, and practising paulmistrie to such as would know their fortunes:
And, to be short, all theues and hores (as I may well wryt),--as some
haue had true experience, a number can well wytnes, and a great sorte
hath well felte it. And now (thankes bée to god), throughe wholsome
lawes, and the due execution thereof, all be dispersed, banished,[51]
_and_ the memory of them cleane extynguished; that when they bée once
named here after, our Chyldren wyll muche meruell what kynd of people
they were: and so, I trust, shal shortly happen of these. For what
thinge doth chiefely cause these rowsey rakehelles thus to continue and
dayly increase? Surely a number of wicked parsons that kéepe typlinge
Houses in all shires, where they haue succour and reliefe; and what so
euer they bring, they are sure to receaue money for *[leaf 4]* the same,
for they sell good penyworthes. The byers haue _th_e greatest gayne;
yea, yf they haue nether money nor ware, they wylbe trusted; their
credite is much. I haue taken a note of a good many of them, _and_ wil
send their names and dwelling-places to such Iusticers as dwelleth nere
or next vnto them, that they by their good wisdomes may displace the
same, and auctoryse such as haue honesty. I wyl not blot my boke with
their names, because they be resident. But as for this fletinge
Fellowshyp, I haue truly setforth the most part of them that be doers at
this present, with their names that they be knowene by. Also, I haue
placed in the end therof their leud language, calling the same pedlers
French or Canting. And now shal I end my prologue, makinge true
declaration (right honorable Lady) as they shal fall in order of their
vntymelye tryfelinge time, leud lyfe, and pernitious practises, trusting
that the same shall neyther trouble or abash your most tender, tymerous,
and pytifull Nature, to thinke the smal mede should growe vnto you for
such Almes so geuen. For god, our marcifull and most louing father, well
knoweth your hartes and good intent,--the geuer neuer wanteth his
reward, according to the sayinge of Saynt Augustyn: as there is (neyther
shalbe) any synne vnpunished, euen so shall there not be eny good dede
vnrewarded. But how comfortably speaketh Christ our Sauiour vnto vs in
his gospel ("geue ye, and it shalbe geuen you againe"): behold farther,
good Madam, that for a cup of colde water, Christ hath promised a good
reward. Now saynt Austen properly declareth why Christ speaketh of colde
water, because the poorest man that is shall not excuse him selfe from
that cherytable warke, least he would, parauenture, saye that he hath
neyther wood, pot, nor pan to warme any water with. Se, farther, what
god speaketh in the mouth of his prophet, Esaye, "breake thy bread to
him that is a hongred;" he sayth not geue him a hole lofe, for
paraduenture the poore man hath it not to geue, then let him geue a
pece. This much is sayd because the poore that hath it should not be
excused: now how much more then the riche? Thus you se, good

  madam, for your treasure here dispersed, where nede and lacke
    is, it shalbe heaped vp aboundantly for you in heauen,
       where neither rust or moth shall corupt or destroy
        the same. Vnto which tryumphant place, after
          many good, happy, and fortunat yeres prosperouslye
            here dispended. you maye for
              euer and euer there most ioyfully
                  remayne. A men.

  ¶¶ _FINIS_

  Thre things to be noted all in their kynde
  A staff, a béesom, and wyth, that wyll wynde


    ¶ A béesome of byrche, for babes very feete,[52]
      A longe lastinge lybbet for loubbers as méete
    A wyth to wynde vp, that these wyll not kéepe
      Bynde all up in one, and vse it to swéepe


[This page is printed at the back of the title page in Bodley edition.]



AL though, good Reader, I wright in plain termes--and not so playnly as
truely--concerning the matter, meaning honestly to all men, and wyshe
them as much good as to myne owne harte; yet, as there hathe bene, so
there is nowe, and hereafter wylbe, curyous heds to finde fauttes:
wherefore I thought it necessary, now at this seconde Impression, to
acquaynt _th_e with a great faulte, as some takethe it, but none[53] as
I meane it, callinge these Vagabonds Cursetors in the intytelynge of my
booke, as runneres or rangers aboute the countrey, deriued of this Laten
word (_Curro_): neither do I wryght it Cooresetores, with a duble[54]
oo; or Cowresetors, with a w, which hath an other singnification: is
there no deuersite betwen a gardein and a garden, maynteynaunce _and_
maintenance, Streytes and stretes? those that haue vnderstanding knowe
there is a great dyfference: who is so ignorant by these dayes as
knoweth not the meaning of a vagabone? and yf an ydell leuterar should
be so called of eny man, would not he thi_n_k it bothe odyous and
reprochefull? wyll he not shonne the name? ye, and where as he maye and
dare, w_i_t_h_ bent browes, wyll reueng that name of Ingnomy: yet this
playne name vagabone is deryued, as others be, of Laten wordes, and now
vse makes it commen to al men; but let vs loke back four .C. yeres
sithens, _and_ let vs se whether this playn word vagabon was vsed or no.
I beleue not, and why? because I rede of no such name in the old
estatutes of this realme, vnles it be in the margente of the booke, or
in the Table, which in the collection and pryntinge was set in; but
these were then the co_m_men names of these leud leuterars, Faytores,
Robardesmen, Drawlatches, _and_ valyant beggares. Yf I should haue vsed
suche wordes, or the same order of wryting, as this realme vsed in Kynge
Henry the thyrd or Edward _th_e fyrstes tyme, oh, what a grose,
barberous fellow *[leaf 5, back]* haue we here! his wryting is both
homely and darke, that wee had nede to haue an interpretar: yet then it
was verye well, and in short season a great change we see. well, this
delycat age shall haue his tyme on the other syde. Eloquence haue I
none; I neuer was acquaynted with the muses; I neuer tasted of Helycon.
But accordinge to my playne order, I haue setforth this worke, symplye
and truelye, with such vsual words and termes as is among vs wel known
and frequented. So that as _th_e prouerbe saythe, "all though truth be
blamed, it shal neuer be shamed." well, good reader, I meane not to be
tedyous vnto the, but haue added fyue or sixe more tales, because some
of them weare donn whyle my booke was fyrste in the presse; and as I
truste I haue deserued no rebuke for my good wyll, euen so I desyre no
prayse for my payne, cost, and trauell. But faithfullye for the proffyt
and benyfyt of my countrey I haue don it, that the whole body of the
Realme may se and vnderstand their leud lyfe and pernitious practisses,
that all maye spedelye helpe to amend that is amysse. Amen saye all with



¶ A RUFFLER. Ca. 1.[55] *[leaf 6]*

THE Rufflar, because he is first in degre of this odious order: And is
so called in a statute made for the punishment of Vacabonds, In the
xxvij. yeare of Kyng Henry the eight, late of most famous memory: Hée
shall be first placed, as the worthiest of this vnruly rablement. And he
is so called when he goeth first abroad; eyther he hath serued in the
warres, or els he hath bene a seruinge man; and, weary of well doing,
shakinge of all payne, doth chuse him this ydle lyfe, and wretchedly
wanders aboute the most shyres of this realme. And with stout
audacyte,[56] demaundeth where he thinketh hée maye be bolde, and
circomspecte ynough, as he sethe cause to aske charitie, rufully and
lamentably, that it would make a flyntey hart to relent, and pytie his
miserable estate, howe he hath bene maymed and broused in the warres;
_and_, parauenture, some wyll shew you some outward wounde, whiche he
gotte at some dronken fraye, eyther haltinge of some preuye wounde
festred with a fylthy firy flankard. For be well assured that the
hardist souldiers be eyther slayne or maymed, eyther and[57] they escape
all hassardes, and retourne home agayne, if they bée without reliefe of
their friends, they wyl surely desperatly robbe and steale, and[58]
eyther shortlye be hanged or miserably dye in pryson; for they be so
much ashamed and disdayne to beg or aske charity, that rather they wyll
as desperatlye fight for to lyue and mayntayne them selues, as manfully
and valyantly they ventred them selues in the Prynces quarell. Now these
Rufflars, the out castes of seruing men, when begginge or crauinge
fayles, then they pycke and pylfer, from other inferiour beggeres that
they méete by the waye, as Roages, Pallyardes, Mortes, and Doxes. Yea,
if they méete with a woman alone ridinge to the market, eyther olde man
or boye, that hée well knoweth wyll not resiste, such they filche and
spoyle. These rufflars, after a yeare or two at the farthest, become
vpryght men, vnlesse they be preuented by twind hempe.

  {I had of late yeares an old man to my tennant, who customably
  {a greate tyme went twise in the wéeke to London, eyther

wyth fruite or with pescodes, when tyme serued therefore. And as he was
comminge homewarde on blacke heathe, at the end thereof next to shotars
hyl, he ouer tooke two rufflars, the one manerly wayting on the other,
as one had ben the maister, _and_ the other the man or seruant, *[leaf
6, back]* caryinge his maisteres cloke. this olde man was verye glad
that hee might haue their company ouer the hyl, because that day he had
made a good market; for hée had seuen shyllinges in his purse, and a
nolde angell, which this poore man had thought had not bene in his
purse, for hée wylled his wyfe ouer night to take out the same angell,
and laye it vp vntyll his comminge home agayne. And he verely thought
that his wyfe had so don, whiche in dede for got to do it. Thus after
salutations had, this maister rufflar entered into co_m_munication with
this simple olde man, who, ridinge softlye beside them, commoned of many
matters. Thus fedinge this old man with pleasaunt talke, vntyll they
weare one the toppe of the hyll, where these rufflares might well
beholde the coaste about them cleare, Quiclye stepes vnto this poore
man, and taketh holde of his horse brydell, and leadeth him in to the
wode, and demaundeth of him what and how much money he had in his purse.
"Now, by my troth," quoth this old man; "you are a merrye gentle man. I
knowe you meane not to take a waye anye thinge from me, but rather to
geue me some if I shoulde aske it of you." By and by, this seruant
thiefe casteth the cloke that he caried on his arme about this poore
mans face, that he should not marke or vew them, with sharpe words to
delyuer quicly that he had, and to confesse truly what was in his purse.
This poore man, then all abashed, yelded, and confessed that he had but
iust seuen shyllinges in his purse; and the trouth is he knew of no
more. This old angell was falen out of a lytle purse into the botome of
a great purse. Now, this seuen shyllings in whyte money they quickly
founde, thinkinge in dede that there had bene no more; yet farther
groping and searchinge, found this old angell. And with great
admiration, this gentleman thyefe begane to blesse hym, sayinge, "good
lorde, what a worlde is this! howe maye" (quoth hée) "a man beleue or
truste in the same? se you not" (quoth he) "this old knaue tolde me that
he had but seuen shyllings, and here is more by an angell: what an old
knaue and a false knaue haue we here!" quoth this rufflar; "oure lorde
haue mercy on vs, wyll this worlde neuer be better?"--and there with
went their waye. And lefte the olde man in the wood, doinge him no more
harme. But sorowfully sighinge, this olde man, returning home, declared
his misaduenture, with all the words and circumstaunces aboue shewed.
Wherat, for the tyme was great laughing, and this poore man for his
losses among his louing neighboures well considered in the end.



*[leaf 7]* A Vpright[59] man, the second in secte of this vnsemely
sorte, must be next placed, of these rainginge rablement of rascales;
some be seruing men, artificers, and laboryng men traded vp in
husbandry. These not mindinge to get their lyuinge with the swete of
their face, but casting of all payne, wyll wander, after their wycked
maner, through the most shyres of this realm,--

  {As Sommerset shyre, Wylshire, Barke shyre, Oxforde shyre,
  {Harfordeshyre, Myddilsex, Essex, Suffolke, Northfolke, Sussex,

Surrye, and Kent, as the cheyfe and best shyres of reliefe. Yea, not
with out punishment by stockes, whyppinges, and imprisonment, in most of
these places aboue sayde. Yet, not with standinge they haue so good
lykinge in their lewed, lecherous loyteringe, that full quiclye all
their punishmentes is[60] for gotten. And repentaunce is neuer thought
vpon vntyll they clyme thrée tres with a ladder. These vnrewly rascales,
in their roylynge, disperse them selues into seuerall companyes, as
occation serueth, sometyme more and somtyme lesse. As, if they repayre
to a poore husbandmans house, hée wyll go a lone, or one with him, and
stoutely demaund his charytie, eyther shewing how he hath serued in the
warres, and their maymed, eyther that he sekethe seruice, and saythe
that he woulde be glad to take payne for hys lyuinge, althoughe he
meaneth nothinge lesse. Yf he be offered any meate or drynke, he
vtterlye refusethe scornefully, and wyll nought but money; and yf he
espye yong pyges or pultry, he well noteth the place, and they the next
night, or shortly after, hée wyll be sure to haue some of them, whyche
they brynge to their stawlinge kens, which is their typplyng houses, as
well knowen to them, according to the olde prouerbe, "as the begger
knowes his dishe." For you must vnderstand, euery Typplyng ale house
wyll neyther receiue them or their wares, but some certayne houses in
euery shyre, especially for that purpose, where they shalbe better
welcome to them then honester men. For by such haue they most gayne, and
shalbe conuayde eyther into some loft out of the waye, or other secret
corner not commen to any other; and thether repayre, at accustomed
tymes, their harlots, whiche they terme Mortes and Doxes,--not with emty
hands; for they be as skilfull in picking, riffling, _and_ filching as
the vpright men, and nothing inferior to them in all kind of wyckednes,
as in other places hereafter they shalbe touched. At these foresayde
peltinge, peuish places and vnmannerly metinges, O! how the pottes walke
about! their talki_n_g tounges talke at large. They bowle and bowse one
to another, and for the tyme bousing belly chere. And after there
ruysting recreation, *[leaf 7, back]* yf there be not rome ynough in the
house, they haue cleane strawe in some barne or backehouse nere
adioyning, where they couch comly to gether, and[61] it were dogge and
byche; and he that is hardyste maye haue his choyse, vnlesse for a lytle
good maner; some wyll take there owne that they haue made promyse vnto,
vntyll they be out of sight, and then, according to the old adage, "out
of minde." Yet these vpright men stand so much vpon their reputation, as
they wyl in no case haue their wemen walke with them, but seperat them
selues for a tyme, a moneth or more. And mete at fayres, or great
markets, where they mete to pylfer and steale from staules, shoppes, or
bothes. At these fayres the vpryght men vse commonly to lye _and_ lingar
in hye wayes by lanes, some prety way or distaunce from _th_e place, by
which wayes they be assured that compeny passeth styll two and fro. And
ther they[62] wyll demaund, with cap in hand and comly curtesy, the
deuotion and charity of _th_e people. They haue ben much lately whipped
at fayrs. Yf they aske at a stout yemans or farmars house his charity,
they wyll goe strong as thre or foure in a company. Where for feare more
then good wyll, they often haue reliefe. they syldome or neuer passe by
a Iustices house, but haue by wayes, vnlesse he dwell alone, and but
weakely manned; thether wyll they also go strong, after a slye, suttle
sorte, as with their armes bounde vp with kercher or lyste, hauinge
wrapte about the same filthy clothes, either their legges in such maner
bewrapped halting down right. Not vnprouided of good codg[e]ls, which
they cary to sustayne them, and, as they fayne, to kéepe gogges[63] from
them, when they come to such good gentlemens houses. Yf any searche be
made or they suspected for pylfring clothes of hedgges, or breaking of
houses, which they commonly do when the owners bée eyther at the market,
church, or other wayes occupyed aboute their busines,--eyther robbe some
sely man or woman by the hye waye, as many tymes they do,--Then they
hygh them into wodes, great thickets, and other ruffe corners, where
they lye lurkinge thre or foure dayes to gether, and haue meate and
drinke brought them by theyre Mortes, and Doxes; and whyle they thus lye
hydden in couert, in the night they be not idle,--nether, as _th_e
common saying is, "well occupyed;" for then, as the wyly foxe, crepinge
out of his den, seketh his praye for pultery, so do these for lynnen and
any thinge els worth money, that lyeth about or near a house. As somtyme
a whole bucke of clothes caryed awaye at a tyme. When they haue a
greatter booty then they maye cary awaye quickly to their stawling
kendes, as is aboue sayd, They wyll hyde the same for a thre dayes in
some thicke couert, and *[leaf 8]* in the night time carye the same,
lyke good water Spanlles, to their foresayd houses. To whom they wyll
discouer where or in what places they had the same, where the markes
shalbe pycked out cleane, _and_ conuayed craftely fare of, to sell. If
the man or woman of the house want money the_m_ selues. [64]If these
vpright men haue nether money nor wares, at these houses they shalbe
trusted for their vitales, and it amount to twentye or thirty shyllings.
Yea, if it fortune any of these vpright men to be taken, either
suspected, or charged with fellony or petye brybrye, don at such a tyme
or such a place, he wyll saye he was in his hostes house. And if the man
or wyfe of that house be examined by an officer, they boldelye vouche,
that the[y] lodged him suche a tyme, whereby the truth cannot appeare.
And if they chaunce to be retained into seruice, through their
lamentable words, with any welthy man, They wyll tary but a smale tyme,
either robbing his maister or som of his fellowes. And some of them
vseth this polocye, that although they trauayle into al these shyres,
aboue said, yet wyl they haue good credite, espiciallye in one shyre,
where at diuers good farmars houses they be wel knowen, where they worke
a moneth in a place or more, and wyll for that time behaue them selues
very honestly _and_ paynfully; And maye at any tyme, for their good
vsage, haue worke of them; and to these at a ded lyft, or last refuge,
they maye safely repayre vnto and be welcom, When in other places, for a
knacke of knauery that they haue playd, thei dare not tary. These
vyright men wil sildom or neuer want; for what is gotten by anye Mort,
or Doxe, if it please him, hée doth comaunde the same. And if he mete
any begger, whether he be sturdye or impotent, he wyll demaund of him,
whether euer he was stalled to the roge or no. If he saye he was, he
wyll know of whom, and his name _tha_t stalled hym. And if he be not
learnedly able to shewe him the whole circumstaunce thereof, he wyll
spoyle him of his money, either of his best garment, if it be worth any
money, and haue him to the bowsing ken, Which is to some typpling house
next adioyninge; and laieth their to gage the best thing that he hath
for twenty pence or two shyllinges: this man obeyeth for feare of
beating. Then doth this vpright man call for a gage of bowse, whiche is
a quarte pot of drinke, and powres the same vpon his peld pate, adding
these words:--"I. G. P. do stalle thée W. T. to the Roge, and that from
hence forth it shall be lawefull for the to Cant"--that is, to aske or
begge--"for thy liuing in al places." Here you se _tha_t the vpright man
is of great auctorite. For all sortes of beggers are obedient to his
hests, and surmounteth all others in pylfring and stealinge. ¶ I lately
had standinge in my *[leaf 8, back]* well house, which standeth on the
backeside of my house, a great cawdron of copper, beinge then full of
water, hauinge in the same halfe a doson of pewter dyshes, well marked,
and stamped w_i_t_h_ the connizance of my armes, whiche being well noted
when they were taken out, were set a side, the water powred out, and my
caudren taken awaye, being of such bygnes that one man, vnlesse he were
of great strength, was not able far to cary the same. Not withstandinge,
the same was one night within this two yeares conuayed more then half a
myle from my house, into a commen or heth, And ther bestowed in a great
firbushe. I then immediatly the next day sent one of my men to London,
and there gaue warning in Sothwarke, kent strete, and Barmesey stréete,
to all the Tynckars there dwelling,--That if any such Caudron came
thether to be sold, the bringar therof should be stayed, and promised
twenty shyllings for a reward. I gaue also intelligence to the water men
that kept the ferres, that no such vessel should be ether conuayd to
London or into essex, promysing the lyke reward, to haue vnderstanding
therof. This my doing was well vnderstand in many places about, and that
the feare of espyinge so troubled _th_e conscience of the stealer, that
my caudoren laye vntouched in the thicke firbushe more then halfe a
yeare after, which, by a great chaunce, was found by hunteres for
conneys; for one chaunced to runne into the same bushe where my caudren
was, and being perceaued, one thrust his staffe into the same bushe, and
hyt my caudren a great blowe, the sound whereof dyd cause the man to
thinke and hope that there was some great treasure hidden, wherby he
thought to be the better whyle he lyued. And in farther searching he
found my caudren; so had I the same agayne vnloked for.



THese hokers, or Angglers, be peryllous and most wicked knaues, and be
deryued or procede forth from the vpright men; they commenly go in frese
ierkynes and gally slopes, poynted benethe the kne; these when they
practise there pylfringe, it is all by night; for, as they walke a day
times from house to house, to demaund charite, they vigelantly marke
where or in what place they maye attayne to there praye, casting there
eyes vp to euery wyndow, well noting what they se their, whether
apparell or linnen, hanginge nere vnto the sayde wyndowes, and that wyll
they be sure to haue _th_e next night folowing; [Header: HARMAN. A
HOKER. A ROGE.] for they customably carry with them a staffe of v. or
vi. foote long, in which, within one ynch of _th_e tope therof, ys a
lytle hole bored through, *[leaf 9]* in which hole they putte an yron
hoke, and with the same they wyll pluck vnto them quickly any thing
_tha_t they may reche ther with, which hoke in the day tyme they
couertly cary about them, and is neuer sene or taken out till they come
to the place where they worke there fete: such haue I sene at my house,
and haue oft talked with them and haue handled ther staues, not then
vnderstanding to what vse or inte_n_t they serued, although I hadde and
perceiued, by there talke and behauiour, great lykelyhode of euyll
suspition in them: they wyl ether leane vppon there staffe, to hyde the
hole thereof, when they talke with you, or holde their hande vpon the
hole; and what stuffe, either wollen or lynnen, they thus hoke out, they
neuer carye the same forth with to their staulyng kens, but hides the
same a iij. daies in some secret corner, _and_ after conuayes the same
to their houses abouesaid, where their host or hostys geueth them money
for the same, but halfe the value that it is worth, or els their doxes
shall a farre of sell the same at the like houses. I was credebly
informed that a hoker came to a farmers house in the ded of the night,
and putting back a drawe window of a low cha_m_ber, the bed standing
hard by the sayd wyndow, in which laye three parsones (a man and two
bygge boyes), this hoker with his staffe plucked of their garme_n_ts
which lay vpon them to kepe them warme, with the couerlet and shete, and
lefte them lying a slepe naked sauing there shertes, and had a way all
clene, and neuer could vnderstande where it became. I verely suppose
that when they wer wel waked with cold, they suerly thought that Robin
goodfelow (accordinge to the old saying) had bene with them that night.

[Header: HARMAN. A ROGE.]

¶ A ROGE. Cap. 4.

A Roge is neither so stoute or hardy as the vpright man. Many of them
will go fayntly and looke piteously when they sée, either méete any
person, hauing a kercher, as white as my shooes, tyed about their head,
with a short staffe in their hand, haltinge, although they nede not,
requiring almes of such as they méete, or to what house they shal com.
But you may easely perceiue by their colour _tha_t thei cary both health
and hipocrisie about them, wherby they get gaine, when others want that
cannot fayne and dissemble. Others therebee that walke sturdely about
_th_e cou_n_trey, _and_ faineth to seke a brother or kinsman of his,
dwelling within som part of _th_e shire;--ether that he hath a letter to
deliuer to som honest housholder, dwelling out of an other Shyre, and
will shewe you the same fayre sealed, with the superscription to *[leaf
9, back]* the partye he speaketh of, because you shall not thinke him to
runne idelly about the countrey;--either haue they this shyfte, they
wyll cary a cirtificate or pasport about them from som Iusticer of the
peace, with his hand and seale vnto the same, howe hée hath bene whipped
and punished for a vacabonde according to the lawes of this realme, and
that he muste returne to .T., where he was borne or last dwelt, by a
certayne daye lymited in the same, whiche shalbe a good longe daye. And
all this fayned, bycause without feare they woulde wyckedly wander, and
wyll renue the same where or when it pleasethe them; for they haue of
their affinity that can wryte and read. These also wyll picke and steale
as the vpright men, and hath their women and metinges at places
apoynted, and nothinge to them inferiour in all kynde of knauery. There
bée of these Roges Curtales, wearinge shorte clokes, that wyll chaunge
their aparell, as occation seruethe. And their end is eyther hanginge,
whiche they call trininge in their language, or die miserably of the

¶ There was not long sithens two Roges that alwaies did associate them
selues together, _and_ would neuer seperat them selues, vnles it were
for some especiall causes, for they were sworn brothers, _and_ were both
of one age, and much like of favour: these two, trauelinge into east
kent, resorted vnto an ale house there,[65] being weried with traueling,
saluting with short curtisey, when they came into the house, such as
thei sawe sitting there, in whiche company was the parson of the parish;
and callinge for a pot of the best ale, sat downe at the tables ende:
the lykor liked them so well, that they had pot vpon pot, and sometyme,
for a lytle good maner, would drinke and offer the cup to such as they
best fancied; and to be short, they sat out al the company, for eche
man departed home aboute their busines. When they had well refreshed
them selues, then these rowsy roges requested the good man of the house
wyth his wyfe to sit downe and drinke with them, of whome they inquired
what priest the same was, and where he dwelt: then they fayninge that
they had an vncle a priest, and that he should dwel in these partes,
which by all presumptions it should be he, and that they came of purpose
to speake with hym, but because they had not sene hym sithens they were
sixe yeares olde, they durst not be bold to take acquayntance of him
vntyl they were farther instructed of the truth, and began to inquier of
his name, and how longe he had dwelt there, and how farre his house was
of from _th_e place they were in: the good wyfe of the house, thynkinge
them honest men without disceit, because they so farre enquyred of their
kinseman, was but of a good zelous naturall intent, shewed them
cherefully that hee *[leaf 10]* was an honest man _and_ welbeloued in
the parish, and of good welth, _and_ had ben there resident xv. years at
the least; "but," saith she, "are you both brothers?" "yea, surely,"
said they, "we haue bene both in one belly, _and_ were twinnes." "Mercy,
god!" q_uoth_ this folish woman; "it may wel be, for ye be not much
vnlike,"--and wente vnto her hall windowe, callinge these yong men vnto
her, and loking out therat,[66] pointed with her fingar _and_ shewed
them the house standing alone, no house nere the same by almoste a
quarter of a myle; "that," sayd[67] she, "is your vncles house." "Nay,"
saith one of them, "he is not onely my vncle, but also my godfather."
"It may well be," q_uoth_ she, "nature wyll bind him to be the better
vnto you." "Well," q_uoth_ they, "we be weary, and meane not to trouble
our vncle to-night; but to-morowe, god willinge, we wyll sée him and do
our duty: but, I pray you, doth our vncle occupy husbandry? what company
hath he in his house." "Alas!" saith she, "but one old woman _and_ a
boy, he hath no occupying at al: tushe," q_uoth_ this good wyfe, "you be
mad men; go to him this night, for hée hath better lodging for you then
I haue, _and_ yet I speake folishly against my[68] own profit, for by
your taring[69] here I should gaine _th_e more by you." "Now, by my
troth," q_uoth_ one of them, "we thanke you, good hostes, for your
holsome councell, and we meane to do as you wyll vs: we wyl pause a
whyle, and by that tyme it wylbe almost night; _and_ I praye you geue vs
a reckeninge,"--so, manerly paying for that they toke, bad their hoste
and hostes farewell with takinge leaue of the cup, marched merelye out
of the dores towardes this parsones house, vewed the same well rounde
about, and passed by two bowshotes of into a younge wodde, where they
laye consultinge what they shoulde do vntyll midnight. Quoth one of
them, of sharper wyt and subtyller then the other, to hys fellowe, "thou
seest that this house is stone walled about, and that we cannot well
breake in, in any parte thereof; thou seest also that the windowes be
thicke of mullions, that ther is no kreping in betwene: wherefore we
must of necessytie vse some policye when strength wil not serue. I haue
a horse locke here about me," saith he; "and this I hope shall serue
oure turne." So when it was aboute xii. of the clocke, they came to the
house and lurked nere vnto his chamber wyndowe: the dog of the house
barked a good, that with they[70] noise, this priest waketh out of his
sléepe, and began to cough and hem: then one of these roges stepes forth
nerer the window _and_ maketh a ruful _and_ pityful noise, requiring for
Christ sake[71] some reliefe, that was both hongry and thirstye, and was
like to ly with out the dores all nighte and starue for colde, vnles he
were releued by him with some small pece of money. "Where dwellest
thou?" quoth this parson. "Alas! sir," saithe this roge, "I haue smal
*[leaf 10, back]* dwelling, and haue com out of my way; and I should
now," saith he, "go to any towne nowe at this time of night, they woulde
set me in the stockes and punishe me." "Well," quoth this pitifull
parson, "away from my house, either lye in some of my out houses vntyll
the morning, and holde, here is a couple of pence for thée." "A god
rewarde you," quoth this roge; "and in heauen may you finde it." The
parson openeth his wyndowe, and thrusteth out his arme to geue his almes
to this Roge that came whining to receiue it, and quickly taketh holde
of his hand, and calleth his fellowe to him, whiche was redye at hande
with the horse locke, and clappeth the same about the wrest of his arme,
that the mullions standing so close together for strength, that for his
life he could not plucke in his arme againe, and made him beleue, vnles
he would at the least geue them .iii. li., they woulde smite of his arme
from the body. So that this poore parson, in feare to lose his hand,
called vp his olde woman that lay in the loft ouer him, and wylled her
to take out all the money he had, which was iiij. markes, which he saide
was all the money in his house, for he had lent vi. li. to one of his
neighbours not iiij daies before. "Wel," q_uoth_ they, "master parson,
if you haue no more, vpon this condicion we wil take of the locke, that
you will drinke .xij. pence for our sakes to-morow at the alehouse wher
we found you, and thank the good wife for the good chere she made vs."
He promised faithfully that he would so do; so they toke of the locke,
and went their way so farre ere it was daye, that the parson coulde
neuer haue any vnderstanding more of them. Now this parson, sorowfully
slumbering that night betwene feare and hope, thought it was but folly
to make two sorrowes of one; he vsed contentacion for his remedy, not
forgetting in the morning to performe his promise, but went betims to
his neighbour that kept tiplinge, and asked angerly where the same two
men were that dranke with her yester daye. "Which two men?" q_uoth_ this
good wife. "The straungers that came in when I was at your house wyth my
neighbores yesterday." "What! your neuewes?" q_uoth_ she, "My neuewes?"
q_uoth_ this parson; "I trowe thou art mad." "Nay, by god!" q_uoth_ this
good[72] wife, "as sober as you; for they tolde me faithfully that you
were their vncle: but, in fayth, are you not so in dede? for, by my
trouth, they are strau[n]gers to me. I neuer saw them before." "O, out
vpon them!" q_uoth_ the parson; "they be false theues, and this night
thei compelled me to geue them al the money in my house." "Benedicite!"
q_uoth_ this good wife, "_and_ haue they so in dede? as I shall aunswere
before god, one of them told me besides that you were godfather to him,
and that he trusted to haue your blessinge before he departed." "What!
did he?" quoth this parson; "a halter blesse him for *[leaf 11]* me!"
"Me thinketh, by the masse, by your countenance you loked so wildly when
you came in," quoth this good wife, "that somthing was amis." "I vse not
to gest," quoth this parson, "when I speake so earnestly." "Why, all
your sorrowes goe with it," quoth this good wife, "and sitte downe here,
and I will fil a freshe pot of ale shall make you mery agayne." "Yea,"
saith this parson, "fill in, _and_ geue me some meat; for they made me
sweare and promise them faithfully that I shoulde drinke xii. pence with
you this day." "What! dyd they?" quoth she; "now, by the mary masse,
they be mery knaues. I warraunt you they meane to bye no land with your
money; but how could they come into you in the night, your dores being
shut fast? your house is very stronge." Then this prason[73] shewed her
all the hole circumstance, how he gaue them his almes oute at the
wyndowe, they[74] made such lamentable crye that it pytied him at the
hart; for he sawe but one when he put oute his hand at the wyndowe. "Be
ruled by me," quoth this good wyfe. "Wherin?" quoth this parson. "By my
troth, neuer speake more of it: when they shal vnderstand of it in the
parish, they wyll but laugh you to skorne." [75]"Why, then," quoth this
parson, "the deuyll goe with it,"--and their an end.[75]


¶ A WYLDE ROGE. Cap. 5.

A Wilde Roge is he that is borne a Roge: he is a more subtil and more
geuen by nature to all kinde of knauery then the other, as beastely
begotten in barne or bushes, and from his infancye traded vp in
trechery; yea, and before ripenes of yeares doth permyt, wallowinge in
lewde lechery, but that is counted amongest them no sin. For this is
their custome, that when they mete in barne at night, euery one getteth
a make[76] to lye wythall, _and_ their chaunce to be twentye in a
companye, as their is sometyme more and sometyme lesse: for to one man
that goeth abroad, there are at the least two women, which neuer make it
straunge when they be called, although she neuer knewe him before. Then
when the day doth appeare, he rouses him vp, and shakes his eares, and
awaye wanderinge where he may gette oughte to the hurte of others. Yet
before he skyppeth oute of hys couche and departeth from his darling, if
he like her well, he will apoint her where to mete shortlye after, with
a warninge to worke warely for some chetes, that their meting might be
the merier.

¶ Not long sithens, a wild roge chau_n_ced to mete a pore neighbour of
mine, who for honesty _and_ good natur surmou_n_teth many. This poore
man, riding homeward from London, where he had made his market, this
*[leaf 11, back]* roge demaunded a peny for gods sake, to kepe him a
true man. This simple man, beholding him wel, and sawe he was of taule
personage with a good quarter staffe in his hand, it much pitied him, as
he sayd, to se him want; for he was well able to serue his prince in the
wars. Thus, being moued with pytie, and[77] loked in his pursse to finde
out a penye; and in loking for the same, he plucked oute viii.
shyllinges in whyte money, and raked therin to finde a single peny; and
at the last findinge one, doth offer the same to this wylde roge: but
he, seinge so much mony in this simple mans hand, being striken to the
hart with a couetous desire, bid him forth wyth delyuer al that he had,
or els he woulde with his staffe beat out his braynes. For it was not a
penye would now quench his thirst, [78]seing so much as he dyd[78]:
thus, swallowinge his spittell gredely downe, spoyled this poore man of
al _th_e money that he had, and lept ouer the hedge into a thicke wode,
and went his waye as merely as this good simple man came home
sorowfully. I once rebuking a wyld roge because he went idelly about, he
shewed me that he was a begger by enheritance--his Grandfather was a
begger, his father was one, and he must nedes be one by good reason.



A Prigger of Prauncers be horse stealers; for to prigge signifieth in
their language to steale, _and_ a Prauncer is a horse: so beinge put
together, the matter is[79] playne. These go commonly in Ierkins of
leatherr, or of white frese, _and_ carry litle wands in their hands, and
will walke through grounds and pastures, to search and se horses meete
for their purpose. And if thei chau_n_ce to be met and asked by the
owners of the grounde what they make there, they fayne strayghte that
they haue loste their waye, and desyre to be enstructed the beste waye
to such a place. These will also repayre to gentlemens houses and aske
their charitye, and wyll offer their seruice. And if you aske them what
they can do, they wyll saye that they can kepe two or thre Geldinges,
and waite vppon a Gentleman. These haue also their women, that walkinge
from them in other places, marke where and what they sée abroade, and
sheweth these Priggars therof when they meete, which is with in a wéeke
or two. And loke, where they steale any thinge, they conuay _th_e same
at the least thre score miles of or more.

¶ There was a Gentleman, a verye friende of myne, rydyng from London
homewarde into Kente, hauinge with in thrée myles of his house
busynesse, alyghted of his horse, and his man also, in a pretye *[leaf
12]* vyllage, where diueres houses were, and looked about hym where he
myghte haue a conuenient person to walke his horse, because hee would
speake w_i_t_h_ a Farmer that dwelt on the backe side of the sayde
village, lytle aboue a quarter of a myle from the place where he
lighted, and had his man to waight vpon him, as it was mete for his
callinge: espying a Pryggar there standing, thinking the same to dwell
there, charging this prity prigginge person to walke his horse well, and
that they might not stande styll for takyng of colde, and at his returne
(which he saide should not be longe) he would geue hym a peny to drinke,
and so wente aboute his busines. This peltynge Priggar, proude of his
praye, walkethe his horse[80] vp and downe tyll he sawe the Gentleman
out of sighte, and leapes him into the saddell, and awaye he goeth a
mayne. This Gentleman returninge, and findinge not his horses, sent his
man to the one end of the vyllage, and he went himselfe vnto the other
ende, and enquired as he went for his horses that were walked, and began
some what to suspecte, because neither he nor his man could se nor find
him. Then this Gentleman deligentlye enquired of thre or foure towne
dwellers there whether any such person, declaring his stature,[81] age,
apparell, with so many linaments of his body as he could call to
remembraunce. And, "vna voce," all sayde that no such man dwelt in their
streate, neither in the parish, that they knewe of; but some did wel
remember that such a one they saw there lyrkinge and huggeringe two
houres before the Gentleman came thether, and a straunger to them. "I
had thoughte," quoth this Gentleman, "he had here dwelled,"--and marched
home manerly in his botes: farre from the place he dwelt not. I suppose
at his comming home he sente suche wayes as he suspected or thought
méete to searche for this Prigger, but hetherto he neuer harde any
tydinges agayne of his palfreys.--I had the best geldinge stolen oute of
my pasture that I had amongst others whyle this boke was first a


¶ A PALLYARD. Cap. 7.

THese Palliardes be called also Clapperdogens: these go with patched
clokes, _and_ haue their Morts with them, which they cal wiues; and if
he goe to one house, to aske his almes, his wife shall goe to a nother:
for what they get (as bread, chéese, malte, and woll) they sell the same
for redy money; for so they get more and if they went together. Although
they be thus[82] deuided in the daie, yet they mete iompe at night. Yf
they chaunce to come to some gentylmans house standinge *[leaf 12,
back]* a lone, and be demaunded whether they be man and wyfe, _and_ if
he perceaue that any doubteth thereof, he sheweth them a Testimonial
with the ministers name, and others of the same parishe (naminge a
parishe in some shere fare distant from the place where he sheweth the
same). This writing he carieth to salue that sore. Ther be many Irishe
men that goe about with cou_n_terfeate licenses; and if they perceiue
you wil straytly examen them, they will immediatly saye they can speake
no Englishe.

¶ Farther, vnderstand for trouth that the worst and wickedst of all this
beastly generation are scarse comparable to these prating Pallyardes.
All for _th_e most parte of these wil either lay to their legs an herb
called Sperewort, eyther Arsnicke, which is called Ratesbane. The nature
of this Spereworte wyll rayse a great blister in a night vpon the
soundest part of his body; and if the same be taken away, it wyl dry vp
againe and no harme. But this Arsnicke will so poyson the same legge or
sore, that it will euer after be incurable: this do they for gaine and
to be pitied. The most of these that walke about be Walchmen.


¶ A FRATER. Cap. 8.

SOme of these Fraters will cary blacke boxes at their gyrdel, wher in
they haue a briefe of the Queenes maiesties letters patentes, geuen to
suche[83] poore spitlehouse for the reliefe of _th_e poore there, whiche
briefe is a coppie of the letters patentes, _and_ vtterly fained, if it
be in paper or in[84] parchment without the great seale. Also, if the
same brief be in printe,[85] it is also of auctoritie. For the Printers
wil sée _and_ wel vndersta_n_d, before it come in presse, that the same
is lawfull. Also, I am credibly informed that the chiefe Proctors of
manye of these houses, that seldome trauel abroad the_m_ selues, but
haue their factors to gather for the_m_, which looke very slenderly to
the impotent and miserable creatures committed to their charge, _and_
die for want of cherishing; wheras they _and_ their wiues are wel
cra_m_med _and_ clothed, _and_ will haue of the best. And the founders
of euery such house, or the chiefe of the parishe wher they be, woulde
better sée vnto these Proctors, that they might do their duty, they
should be wel spoken of here, and in the world to come abou_n_dantly
therefore rewarded. I had of late an honest man, and of good wealthe,
repayred to my house to common wyth me aboute certeyne affaires. I
inuited the same to dinner, and dinner beinge done, I demaunded of hym
some newes of these[86] parties were hee dwelte. "Thankes be to God,
syr," (saith he); "all is well _and_ good now." "Now!" (quoth I) "this
same 'nowe' *[leaf 13]* declareth _tha_t some things of late hath not
bene wel." "Yes, syr," (q_uoth_ he) "the[87] matter is not great. I had
thought I should haue bene wel beaten within this seuenth night." "How
so?" (quoth I). "Mary, syr," sayd he, "I am Counstable for fault of a
better, and was commaunded by the Iusticer to watch. The watch being
set, I toke an honest man, one of my neighbors, with me, and went vp to
the ende of the towne as far as the spittle house, at which house I
heard a great noyse, and, drawing nere, stode close vnder the wall, and
this was at one of the clocke after midnight. Where he harde swearinge,
pratinge, and wagers laying, and the pot apase walkinge, and xl. pence
gaged vpon a matche of wrastling, pitching of the barre, and casting of
the sledge. And out they goe, in a fustian fume, into the backe syde,
where was a great Axiltrye,[88] and there fell to pitching of the barre,
being thre to thre. The Moone dyd shine bright, the Counstable with his
neighboure myght see and beholde all that was done. And howe the wyfe of
the house was rostinge of a Pyg, whyle her gestes were in their matche.
At the laste they coulde not agree vpon a caste, and fell at wordes, and
from wordes to blowes. The Counstable with his[89] fellowe runnes vnto
them, to parte them, and in the partinge lyckes a drye blowe or two.
Then the noyse increased; the Counstable woulde haue had them to[90] the
stockes. The wyfe of the house runnes out with her goodman to intreat
the Counstable for her gestes, and leaues the Pyg at the fyre alone. In
commeth two or thrée of the next neighboures, beinge waked wyth this
noise, and into the house they come, and fynde none therein, but the
Pygge well rosted, and carieth the same awaye wyth them, spyte and all,
with suche breade and drinke also as stoode vpon the table. When the
goodman and the goodwyfe of the house hadde intreated and pacified the
Counstable, shewinge vnto him that they were Proctors and Factores all
of Spyttell houses, and that they taryed there but to breake theyr fast,
and woulde ryde awaye immediatelye after, for they had farre to goe, and
therefore mente to ryde so earlye. And comminge into their house agayne,
fyndinge the Pygge wyth bread and drincke all gonne, made a greate
exclamation, for they knewe not who had the same.

¶ The Counstable returning and hearinge the lamentable wordes of the
good wyfe, howe she had lost both meate and drinke, and sawe it was so
in deede, hée laughed in his sleue, and commaunded her to dresse no more
at vnlawfull houres for any gestes. For hée thought it better bestowed
vppon those smell feastes his poore neighboures then vppon suche
sturdye Lubbares. The nexte mornynge betymes the *[leaf 13, back]*
spitte and pottes were sette at the Spittle house doore for the owner.
Thus were these Factours begyled of theyr breakefast, and one of them
hadde well beaten an other; "And, by my trouth," (quoth thys Counstable)
"I was gladde when I was well ryd of them." "Why," quoth I, "coulde
the[y] caste the barre and sledge well?" "I wyll tell you, syr," (quoth
hée) "you knowe there hath bene manye games this Sommer. I thinke
verely, that if some of these Lubbars had bene there, and practysed
amongest others, I beleue they woulde haue carryed awaye the beste
games. For they were so stronge and sturdye, that I was not able to
stande in their handes." "Well" (quoth I) "at these games you speake of,
both legges and armes bée tryed." "Yea," quoth this offycer, "they bée
wycked men. I haue séene some of them sithens wyth cloutes bounde aboute
theyr legges, and haltynge wyth their staffe in their handes. Wherefore
some of theym, by GOD, bee nought all."


¶ A ABRAHAM MAN. Cap. 9.

THese Abrahom men be those that fayne themselues to haue beene mad, and
haue bene kept eyther in Bethelem or in some other pryson a good tyme,
_and_ not one amongst twenty that euer came in pryson for any such
cause: yet wyll they saye howe pitiously and most extreamely they haue
bene beaten, and dealt with all. Some of these be merye and verye
pleasant, they wyll daunce and sing; some others be as colde and
reasonable to talke wyth all. These begge money; eyther when they come
at Farmours howses they wyll demaunde Baken, eyther chéese, or wooll, or
any thinge that is worthe money. And if they espye small company within,
they wyll with fierce countenau_n_ce demau_n_d some what. Where for
feare the maydes wyll geue theym largely to be ryd of theym.

  {¶ If they maye conuenyently come by any cheate, they wyl
  {picke and steale, as the v[p]right man or Roge, poultrey or

lynnen. And all wemen that wander bée at their commaundemente. Of all
that euer I saw of this kynde, one naminge him selfe Stradlynge is the
craftiest and moste dyssemblyngest Knaue. Hée is able wyth hys tounge
and vsage to deceaue and abuse the wysest man that is. And surely for
the proporcion of his body, with euery member there vnto appertayninge,
it cannot be a mended. But as the prouerbe is "God hath done his part."
Thys Stradlyng sayth he was the Lord Sturtons man; and when he was
executed, for very pensiuenes of mynde, *[leaf 14]* he fell out of his
wytte, and so continued a yeare after and more; and that with the very
gréefe and feare, he was taken wyth a marueilous palsey, that both head
and handes wyll shake when he talketh, with anye and that a pase or
fast, where by he is much pytied, and getteth greately. And if I had not
demaunded of others, bothe men and women, that commonly walketh as he
doth, and knowen by them his déepe dissimylation, I neuer hadde
vnderstand the same. And thus I end wyth these kynde of vacabondes.



THese Freshwater Mariners, their shipes were drowned in the playne of
Salisbery. These kynde of Caterpillers counterfet great losses on the
sea; these bée some Western men, and most bée Irishe men. These wyll
runne about the countrey wyth a counterfet lycence, fayninge either
shypwracke, or spoyled by Pyrates, neare the coaste of Cornwall or
Deuonshyre, and set a lande at some hauen towne there, hauynge a large
and formall wrytinge, as is aboue sayd, with the names and seales of
suche men of worshyppe, at the leaste foure or fiue, as dwelleth neare
or next to the place where they fayne their landinge. And neare to those
shieres wyll they not begge, vntyll they come into Wylshyre, Hamshyre,
Barkeshyre, Oxfordshyre, Harfordshyre, Middelsex, and so[91] to London,
and downe by the ryuer to séeke for their shyppe and goods that they
neuer hade: then passe they through Surrey, Sossex, by the sea costes,
and so into Kent, demaunding almes to bring them home to their country.

¶ Some tyme they counterfet the seale of the Admiraltie. I haue diuers
tymes taken a waye from them their lycences, of both sortes, wyth suche
money as they haue gathered, and haue confiscated the same to the
pouerty nigh adioyninge to me. And they wyll not beelonge with out
another. For at anye good towne they wyll renewe the same. Once wyth
muche threatninge and faire promises, I required to knowe of one
companye who made their lycence. And they sweare that they bought the
same at Portsmouth, of a Mariner there, and it cost them[92] two
shillinges; with such warrantes to be so good and efectuall, that if any
of the best men of lawe, or learned, aboute London, should peruse the
same, they weare able to fynde no faute there with, but would assuredly
allow the same.


*[leaf 14, back]*[93]

[Illustration: =A vpright man=
               =Nicolas Blunt=

               {=The co[=u]terfet Cranke=
               {=Nicolas Genynges=]

       These two pyctures, lyuely set out,
    One bodye and soule, god send him more grace.
      This mounstrous desembelar, a Cranke all about.
    Vncomly couetinge, of eche to imbrace,
      Money or wares, as he made his race.
    And sometyme a marynar, and a saruinge man,
      Or els an artificer, as he would fayne than.
    Such shyftes he vsed, beinge well tryed,
      A bandoninge labour, tyll he was espyed.
    Conding punishment, for his dissimulation,
      He sewerly receaued with much declination.[94]


*[leaf 15]* ¶ A COUNTERFET CRANKE. Cap. 11.

THese that do counterfet the Cranke be yong knaues and yonge harlots,
that depely dissemble the falling sicknes. For the Cranke in their
language is the falling euyll. I haue séene some of these with fayre
writinges testimoniall, with the names and seales of some men of worshyp
in Shropshyre, and in other Shieres farre of, that I haue well knowne,
and haue taken the same from them. Many of these do go without
writinges, and wyll go halfe naked, and looke most pitiously. And if any
clothes be geuen them, the[y][95] immediatly sell the same, for weare it
they wyll not, because they would bée the more pitied, and weare fylthy
clothes on their heades, and neuer go without a péece of whyte sope
about them, which, if they sée cause or present gaine, they wyll priuely
conuey the same into their mouth, and so worke the same there, that they
wyll fome as it were a Boore, _and_ maruelously for a tyme torment them
selues; and thus deceiue they the common people, and gayne much. These
haue commonly their harlots as the other.

Apon Alhollenday in the morning last Anno domini. 1566, or my[96] booke
was halfe printed, I meane the first impression, there came earely in
the morninge a Counterfet Cranke vnder my lodgynge at the whyte Fryares,
wythin the cloyster, in a lyttle yard or coorte, where aboutes laye two
or thre great Ladyes, beyng without the lyberties of London, where by he
hoped for the greatter gayne; this Cranke there lamentably lamentinge
and pitefully crying to be releued, declared to dyuers their hys
paynfull and miserable dysease. I being rysen and not halfe ready, harde
his dolfull wordes and rufull mornings, hering him name the falling
sicknes, thought assuredlye to my selfe that hée was a depe desemblar;
so, comminge out at a sodayne, and beholdinge his vgly and yrksome
attyre, hys lothsome and horyble countinance, it made me in a meruelous
parplexite what to thinke of hym, whether it were fayned or trouth,--for
after this manner went he: he was naked from the wast vpward, sauyng he
had a old Ierken[97] of leather patched, and that was lose[98] about
hym, that all his bodye laye out bare; a filthy foule cloth he ware on
his head, being cut for the purpose, hauing a narowe place to put out
his face, with a bauer made to trusse vp his beard, and a stryng that
tyed the same downe close aboute his necke; with an olde felt hat which
he styll caried in his hande to receaue the charytye and deuotion of the
people, for that woulde he hold out from hym; hauyng hys face, from the
eyes downe ward, all smerd with freshe bloud, *[leaf 15, back]* as
thoughe he had new falen, and byn tormented wyth his paynefull
panges,--his Ierken beinge all be rayde with durte and myre, and hys
hatte and hosen also, as thoughe hée hadde wallowed in the myre: sewerly
the sighte was monstrous and terreble. I called hym vnto me, and
demaunded of hym what he ayled. "A, good maister," quoth he, "I haue the
greuous and paynefull dyseas called the falynge syckenes." "Why," quoth
I, "howe commeth thy Ierken, hose, and hat so be rayd with durte and
myre, and thy skyn also?" "A, good master, I fell downe on the backesyde
here in the fowle lane harde by the watersyde; and there I laye all most
all night, and haue bled all most all the bloude owte in my bodye." It
raynde that morninge very fast; and whyle I was thus talkinge with hym,
a honest poore woman that dwelt thereby brought hym a fayre lynnen
cloth, and byd hym wype his face therewyth; and there beinge a tobbe
standing full of rayne water, offered to geue hym some in a dishe that
he might make hym selfe cleane: hée refuseth[99] the same. "Why dost
thou so?" quoth I. "A, syr," sayth he, "yf I shoulde washe my selfe, I
shoulde fall to bléedinge a freshe againe, and then I should not stop my
selfe:" these wordes made me the more to suspecte hym.

Then I asked of hym where he was borne, what is name was, how longe he
had this dysease, and what tyme he had ben here about London, and in
what place. "Syr," saythe he, "I was borne at Leycestar, my name is
Nycholas Genings,[100] and I haue had this falling sycknes viij. yeares,
and I can get no remedy for the same; for I haue it by kinde, my father
had it and my friendes before me; and I haue byne these two yeares here
about London, and a yeare and a halfe in bethelem." "Why, wast thou out
of thy wyttes?" quoth I. "Ye, syr, that I was."

"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[101], 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 vnder stand 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 went
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; 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,[102] 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

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[103] 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, and began to
stryp hym. Then he plucked out a nother purse, wherin was xl. pens.
"Toushe," sayth[104] thys Prynter, "I must see more." Saythe this
Cranke, "I pray God I bée dampned both body[105] 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
_that_ he had begged that day xiij. shillings iii. [106]pens
halfepeny[106]. Then they strypt him starke naked, and as many as sawe
him sayd they neuer sawe hansommer man, wyth a yellowe flexen
beard[107], and fayre skynned, withoute anye spot or greffe. Then the
good wyfe of the house fet her goodmans[108] 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.

  {Thus he set[109] 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.[110] 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 passing pens[111], _and_ fleting trashe, The printer with this
offecer were in gealy gealowsit[112], 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 _the_ 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 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, [113]that he could[114] neuer be hard of [115]againe.[113]
Now[115] 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. [116]pens halfpeny[116] might the next daye be equally
distributed, by their good discrecions, to the pouertie of the same
parishe,[117] and so it was done.


¶ 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[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 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[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 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[122] 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 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.



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



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.


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[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.



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 shéete to lye in a nightes. The vpright men be
very familiare with these kynde of wemen, and one of them helpes an

¶ 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[127] glymmeringe glauncer, was
presentlye pyteouslye persed to the hart, and lewdlye longed to bée
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 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 sithens one the
backesyde. I hadde thought you hadde sent him of your arrante." "I sent
him not," quoth she; "goe, loke him out."

¶ 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
fréende." "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 hée laye this
amased, the vpright man snatches awaye his pursse, where in hée 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, hée fayntlye wandereth home,
and crepethe in to hys couche, and restes *[leaf 20]* his ydle heade:
his mystres harde that hée 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 thrée
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." Shée made hym presently faithfull
promisse that shée woulde. "Then," saythe hee, "sende for your sonne
home agayne, whyche is ashamed to loke you in the face." "I agre there
to," sayth shée "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.


¶ 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 béefe, baken, or
chéese, 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 hée, "I chaunced to méete 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 bée payde
the next tyme I méete with thée.' 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


¶ 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.

¶ 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.


¶ The last Sommer, Anno domini .1566, being in familiare talke with a
walking Mort that came to my gate, I learned by her what I could, and I
thought I had gathered as much for my purpose as I desired. I began to
rebuke her for her leud lyfe and beastly behauor, declaring to her what
punishment was prepared and heaped vp for her in the world to come for
her fylthy lyuinge and wretched conuersation. "God helpe," q_uoth_ she,
"how should I lyue? none wyll take me into seruice; but I labour in
haruest time honestly." "I thinke but a whyle with honestie," q_uoth_ I.
"Shall I tell you," q_uoth_ she, "the best of vs all may be amended; but
yet, I thanke god, I dyd one good dede within this twelue mo_n_thes."
"Wherein?" q_uoth_ I. Sayth she, "I woulde not haue it spoken of
agayne." "Yf it be méete and necessary," q_uo_d I, "it shall lye vnder
my feete." "What meane you by that?" quoth she. "I meane," q_uo_d I, "to
hide the same, and neuer to discouer it to any." "Well," q_uoth_ she,
and began to laugh as much as she could, and sweare by the masse that if
I disclosed the same to any, she woulde neuer more[134] tell me any
thinge. "The last sommer," q_uoth_ she, "I was greate with chylde, and I
traueled into east kent by the sea coste, for I lusted meruelously after
oysters and muskels[135], and gathered many, and in _th_e place where I
found them, I opened them and eate them styll: at the last, in seking
more, I reached after one, and stept into a hole, and fel in into the
wast, and their dyd stycke, and I had bene drowned if the tide had come,
and espyinge a man a good waye of, I cried as much as I could for helpe.
I was alone, he hard me, and repaired as fast to me as he might, and
finding me their fast stycking, I required for gods sake his helpe; and
whether it was with stryuinge and forcing my selfe out, or for ioye I
had of his comminge to me, I had a great couller in my face, and loked
red and well coullered. And, to be playne with you, hée lyked me so
well (as he sayd) that I should there lye styll, and I would not graunt
him, that he might lye with me. And, by my trouth, I wist not what to
answeare, I was in such a perplexite; for I knew the man well: he had a
very honest woman to his wyfe, and was of some welth; and, one the other
syde, if I weare not holpe out, I should there haue perished, and I
graunted hym that I would obeye to his wyll: then he plucked me out. And
because there was no conuenient place nere hande, I required hym that I
might go washe my selfe, and make me somewhat clenly, and I would come
to his house and lodge all night in his barne, whether he mighte repaire
to me, and accomplyshe hys desire, 'but let it not be,' quoth she,[136]
'before nine of the clocke at nyghte *[leaf 22]* for then there wylbe
small styrring. And I may repaire to the towne,' q_uoth_ she,[137] 'to
warme and drye my selfe'; for this was about two of the clocke in the
after none, 'Do so,' quoth hée; 'for I must be busie to looke oute my
cattell here by before I can come home.' So I went awaye from hym, and
glad was I." "And why so?" quoth I. "Because," quoth she, "his wyfe, my
good dame, is my very fréend, and I am much beholdinge to her. And she
hath donne me so much good or this, that I weare loth nowe to harme her
any waye." "Why," quoth I, "what and it hadde béene any other man, and
not your good dames husbande?" "The matter had bene the lesse," quoth
shée. "Tell me, I pray the," quoth I, "who was the father of thy
chylde?" She stodyd a whyle, and sayde that it hadde a father. "But what
was hée?" quoth I. "Nowe, by my trouth, I knowe not," quoth shée; "you
brynge me out of my matter so, you do." "Well, saye on," quoth I. "Then
I departed strayght to the towne, and came to my dames house, And shewed
her of my mysfortune, also of her husbands vsage, in all pointes, and
that I showed her the same for good wyll, and byde her take better héede
to her husbande, and to her selfe: so shée gaue me great thankes, and
made me good chéere, and byd me in anye case that I should be redye at
the barne at that tyme and houre we had apoynted; 'for I knowe well,'
quoth this good wyfe, 'my husband wyll not breake wyth the. And one
thinge I warne[138] the, that thou geue me a watche worde a loud when
hée goeth aboute to haue his pleasure of the, and that shall[139] bée
"fye, for shame, fye," and I wyll bée harde by you wyth helpe. But I
charge the kéepe thys secret vntyll all bee fynesed; and holde,' saythe
thys good wyfe, 'here is one of my peticotes I geue thée.' 'I thanke
you, good dame,' quoth I, 'and I warrante you I wyll bée true and
trustye vnto you.' So my dame lefte me settinge by a good fyre with
meate and drynke; and wyth the oysters I broughte with me, I hadde
greate cheere: shée wente strayght and repaired vnto her gossypes
dwelling there by; and, as I dyd after vnderstande, she made her mone to
them, what a naughtye, lewed, lecherous husbande shée hadde, and howe
that she coulde not haue hys companye for harlotes, and that she was in
feare to take some fylthy dysease of hym, he was so commen a man,
hauinge lytle respecte whome he hadde to do with all; 'and,' quoth she,
'nowe here is one at my house, a poore woman that goeth aboute the
countrey that he woulde haue hadde to doe withall; wherefore, good
neyghboures and louinge gossypes, as you loue me, and as you would haue
helpe at my hand another tyme, deuyse some remedy to make my husband a
good man, _tha_t I may lyue in some suerty without disease, and that hée
may saue his soule that God so derelye *[leaf 22, back]* bought.' After
shée hadde tolde her tale, they caste their persinge eyes all vpon her,
but one stoute dame amongst the rest had these wordes--'As your pacient
bearinge of troubles, your honest behauiour among vs your neyghbours,
your tender and pytifull hart to the poore of the parysh, doth moue vs
to lament your case, so the vnsatiable carnalite of your faithelesse
husbande doth instigate and styre vs to deuyse and inuent some spéedy
redresse for your ease[140] and the amendement of hys lyfe. Wherefore,
this is my councell and you wyll bée aduertysed by me; for[141] I saye
to you all, vnlesse it be this good wyfe, who is chéefely touched in
this matter, I haue the nexte cause; for hée was in hande wyth me not
longe a goe, and companye had not bene present, which was by a meruelous
chaunce, he hadde, I thinke, forced me. For often hée hath bene
tempering[142] with me, and yet haue I sharpely sayde him naye:
therefore, let vs assemble secretly into the place where hée hathe
apuynted to méete thys gyllot that is at your house, and lyrke preuelye
in some corner tyll hée begyn to goe aboute his busines. And then me
thought I harde you saye euen nowe that you had a watche word, at which
word we wyll all stepforth, being fiue of vs besydes you, for you shalbe
none because it is your husbande, but gette you to bed at your
accustomed houre. And we wyll cary eche of vs[143] good byrchen rodde in
our lappes, and we will all be muffeled for knowing, and se that you goe
home and acquaynt that walking Morte with the matter; for we must haue
her helpe to hold, for alwaies foure must hold and two lay one.' 'Alas!'
sayth this good wyfe, 'he is to stronge for you all. I would be loth,
for my sake you should receaue harme at his hande.' 'feare you not,'
q_uoth_ these stout wemen, 'let her not geue the watch word vntyl his
hosen be abaut his legges. And I trowe we all wylbe with him to bring
before he shall haue leasure to plucke them vp againe.' They all with on
voyce ag[r]ed to the matter, that the way she had deuised was the best:
so this good wife repaired home; but before she departed from her
gossypes, she shewed them at what houre they should preuely come in on
_th_e backsid, _and_ where to tary their good our: so by _th_e time she
came in, it was all most night, and found the walking Morte still
setting by the fyre, and declared to her all this new deuyse aboue sayd,
which promised faythfully to full fyll to her small powre as much as
they hadde deuysed: within a quarter of an oure after, in co_m_meth the
good man, who said that he was about his cattell. "Why, what haue we
here, wyfe, setting by the fyre? _and_ yf she haue eate and dronke, send
her into the barne to her lodging for this night, for she troubeleth the
house." "Euen as you wyll husbande," sayth his wyfe; "you knowe she
commeth once in two yeres into these *[leaf 23]* quarters. Awaye,"
saythe this good wyfe, "to your lodginge." "Yes, good dame," sayth she,
"as fast as I can:" thus, by loking one[144] on the other, eche knewe
others mynde, and so departed to her comely couche: the good man of the
house shrodge hym for Ioye, thinking to hym selfe, I wyll make some
pastyme with you anone. And calling to his wyfe for hys sopper, set him
downe, and was very plesant, and dranke to his wyfe, _and_ fell to his
mammerings, and mounched a pace, nothing vnderstanding of the bancquet
that[145] was a preparing for him after sopper, _and_ according to the
prouerbe, that swete meate wyll haue sowre sawce: thus, whe_n_ he was
well refreshed, his sprietes being reuyued, entred into familiare talke
with his wife, of many matters, how well he had spent that daye to both
there proffytes, sayinge some of his cattell[146] were lyke to haue bene
drowned in the dyches, dryuinge others of his neyghbours cattell out
that were in his pastures, _and_ mending his fences that were broken
downe. Thus profitably he had consumed the daye, nothinge talking of his
helping out of the walkinge Morte out of the myre, nether of his request
nor yet of her[147] promisse. Thus feding her w_i_t_h_ frendly
fantacyes, consumed two houres and more. Then fayninge howe hée would se
in what case his horse were in and howe they were dressed, Repaired
couertly into the barne, where as his frée[n]dlye foes lyrked preuely,
vnlesse it were this manerly Morte, that comly couched on a bottell of
strawe. "What, are you come?" q_uoth_ she; "by the masse, I would not
for a hundreth pound that my dame should knowe that you were here,
eyther any els of your house." "No, I warrant the," sayth this good man,
"they be all safe and fast ynough at their woorke, and I wylbe at mine
anon," And laye downe by her, and strayght would haue had to do w_i_t_h_
her. "Nay, fye," sayth she, "I lyke not this order: if ye lye with me,
you shall surely vntrus you _and_ put downe your hosen, for that way is
most easiest and best." "Sayest thou so?" quoth he, "now, by my trouth
agred." And when he had vntrussed him selfe and put downe, he began to
assalt the vnsatiable[148] fort "Why," quoth she, that was with out
shame, sauinge for her promes, "And are you not ashamed?" "neuer a
whyte," sayth he, "lye downe quickely." "Now, fye, for shame, fye,"
sayth shée a loude, whyche was the watche word. At the which word, these
fyue furious, sturdy, muffeled gossypes flynges oute, and takes sure
holde of this be trayed parson, sone[149] pluckinge his hosen downe
lower, and byndinge the same fast about his féete; then byndinge his
handes, and knitting a hande charcher about his eyes, that he shoulde
not sée; and when they had made hym sure and fast, Then they layd him
one vntyll they weare windles. "Be good," sayth this Morte, "vnto my
maister, for the passion of God," *[leaf 23, back]* and layd on as fast
as the rest, and styll seased not to crye vpon them to bée mercyfull
vnto hym, and yet layde on a pace; and when they had well beaten hym,
that the bloud braste plentifullye oute in most places, they let hym lye
styll bounde. With this exhortation, that he shoulde from that tyme
forth knowe his wyfe from other mens, and that this punishment was but a
flebyting in respect of that which should followe, yf he amended not his
manners. Thus leuynge hym blustering, blowing, and fominge for payne,
and malyncolye that hée neither might or coulde be reuenged of them,
they vanyshed awaye, and hadde thys Morte with them, and safely conuayde
her out of the towne: sone after co_m_meth into the barne one of the
good mans boyes, to fet some haye for his horse. And fyndinge his
maister lyinge faste bounde and greuouslye beaten with rodes, was
sodenly abashed and woulde haue runne out agayne to haue called for
helpe; but his maister bed hym come vnto hym and vnbynd hym; "and make
no wordes," quoth he, "of this. I wylbe reuenged well inoughe;" yet not
with standinge, after better aduyse, the matter beinge vnhonest, he
thought it meter to let the same passe, and, not, as the prouerbe
saythe, to awake the sleping dogge. "And, by my trouth," quoth this
walkinge Morte, "I come nowe from that place, and was neuer there
sythens this parte was playde, whiche is some what more then a yeare.
And I here a very good reporte of hym now, that he loueth his wyfe well,
and vseth hym selfe verye honestlye; and was not this a good acte? nowe,
howe saye you?" "It was pretely handeled," quoth I, "and is here all?"
"Yea," quoth she, "here is the ende."

[Header: HARMAN. A DOXE.]

¶ A DOXE. Cap. 20.

THese Doxes be broken and spoyled of their maydenhead by the vpright
men, and then they haue their name of Doxes, and not afore. And
afterwarde she is commen and indifferent for any that wyll vse her, as
_homo_ is a commen name to all men. Such as be fayre and some what
handsome, kepe company with the walkinge Mortes, and are redye alwayes
for the vpright men, and are cheifely mayntayned by them, for others
shalbe spoyled for their sakes: the other, inferior, sort wyll resorte
to noble mens places, and gentlemens houses, standing at the gate,
eyther lurkinge on the backesyde about backe houses, eyther in hedge
rowes, or some other thycket, expectinge their praye, which is for the
vncomely company of some curteous gest, of whome they be refreshed with
meate and some money, where eschaunge is made, ware for ware: this bread
and meate they vse to carrye in their *[leaf 24]* greate hosen; so that
these beastlye brybinge[150] bréeches serue manye tymes for bawdye
purposes. I chaunced, not longe sithens, familiarly to commen with a
Doxe that came to my gate, and surelye a pleasant harlot, and not so
pleasant as wytty, and not so wytty as voyd of all grace and goodnes. I
founde, by her talke, that shée hadde passed her tyme lewdlye eyghttene
yeares in walkinge aboute. I thoughte this a necessary instrument to
attayne some knowledge by; and before I woulde grope her mynde, I made
her both to eate and drynke well; that done, I made her faythfull
promisse to geue her some money, yf she would open and dyscouer to me
such questions as I woulde demaunde of her, and neuer to bée wraye her,
neither to disclose her name. "And you shoulde," sayth she, "I were
vndon:" "feare not that," quoth I; "but, I praye the," quoth I, "say
nothing but trouth." "I wyll not," sayth shée. "Then, fyrste tell me,"
quoth I, "how many vpright men and Roges dost thou knowe, or hast thou
knowne and byn conuersaunt with, and what their names be?" She paused a
whyle, and sayd, "why do you aske me, or wherefore?" "For nothinge els,"
as I sayde, "but that I woulde knowe them when they came to my gate."
"Nowe, by my trouth" (quoth she) "then are yea neuer the neare, for all
myne acquayntaunce, for the moste parte, are deade." "Dead!" quoth I,
"howe dyed they, for wante of cherishinge, or of paynefull diseases?"
Then she sighed, and sayde they were hanged. "What, all?" quoth I, "and
so manye walke abroade, as I dayelye see?" "By my trouth," quoth she, "I
knowe not paste six or seuen by their names," and named the same to me.
"When were they hanged?" quoth I. "Some seuen yeares a gone, some thrée
yeares, and some w_i_t_h_in this fortnight," and declared the place
where they weare executed, which I knewe well to bée true, by the report
of others. "Why" (quoth I) "dyd not this sorrowfull and fearefull sight
much greue the, and for thy tyme longe and euyll spent?" "I was sory,"
quoth shée, "by the Masse; for some of them were good louing men. For I
lackt not when they had it, and they wanted not when I had it, and
diuers of them I neuer dyd forsake, vntyll the Gallowes departed vs."
"O, mercyfull God!" quoth I, and began to blesse me. "Why blesse ye?"
quoth she. "Alas! good gentleman, euery one muste haue a lyuinge." Other
matters I talked of; but this nowe maye suffice to shewe the Reader, as
it weare in a glasse, the bolde beastly lyfe of these Doxes. For suche
as hath gone anye tyme abroade, wyll neuer forsake their trade, to dye
therefore. I haue hadde good profe thereof. There is one, a notorious
harlot, of this affinitye, called Besse Bottomelye; she hath but one
hande, and she hath murthered two children at the least.

[Header: HARMAN. A DELL.]

*[leaf 24, back]* ¶ A DELL. Cap. 21.

A Dell is a yonge wenche, able for generation, and not yet knowen or
broken by the vpright man. These go abroade yong, eyther by the death of
their parentes, and no bodye to looke vnto them, or els by some sharpe
mystres that they serue, do runne away out of seruice; eyther she is
naturally borne one, and then she is a wyld Dell: these are broken verye
yonge; when they haue béene lyen with all by the vpright man, then they
be Doxes, and no Dels. These wylde dels, beinge traded vp with their
monstrous mothers, must of necessytie be as euill, or worsse, then their
parents, for neither we gather grapes from gréene bryars, neither fygs
from Thystels. But such buds, such blosoms, such euyll sede sowen, wel
worsse beinge growen.



A Kynching Morte is a lytle Gyrle: the Mortes their mothers carries them
at their backes in their slates, whiche is their shetes, and bryngs them
vp sauagely[151], tyll they growe to be rype, and soone rype, soone

¶ A KYNCHEN CO. Cap. 23.

A Kynchen Co is a young boye, traden vp to suche peuishe purposes as you
haue harde of other young ympes before, that when he groweth vnto yeres,
he is better to hang then to drawe forth.



NOw I thinke it not vnnecessary to make the Reader vnderstand how and in
what maner they lodge a nights in barnes or backe houses, and of their
vsage there, for asmuch as I haue acquaynted them with their order and
practises a day times. The arche and chiefe walkers that hath walked a
long time, whose experience is great, because of their continuinge
practise, I meane all Mortes and Doxes, for their handsomnes and
diligence for making of their couches. The men neuer trouble them selues
with _tha_t thing, but takes the same to be the dutye of _th_e wyfe. And
she shuffels vp a quayntitye of strawe or haye into some pretye carner
of the barne *[leaf 25]* where she maye conuenientlye lye, and well
shakethe the same, makinge the heade some what hye, and dryues the same
vpon the sydes and fete lyke abed: then she layeth her wallet, or some
other lytle pack of ragges or scrype vnder her heade in the strawe, to
beare vp the same, and layethe her petycote or cloke vpon and ouer the
strawe, so made lyke a bedde, and that serueth for the blancket. Then
she layeth her slate, which is her sheete, vpon that; and she haue no
shéete, as fewe of them goe without, then she spreddeth some large
cloutes or rags ouer the same, and maketh her ready, and layeth her
drouselye downe. Many wyll plucke of their smockes, and laye the same
vpon them in stede of their vpper shéete, and all her other pelte and
trashe vpon her also; and many lyeth in their smockes. And if the rest
of her clothes in colde weather be not sufficient to kepe her warme,
then she taketh strawe or haye to performe the matter. The other sorte,
that haue not slates, but toumble downe and couche a hogshead in their
clothes, these bée styll lousye, and shall neuer be with out vermyn,
vnlesse they put of theire clothes, and lye as is a boue sayde. If the
vpright man come in where they lye, he hath his choyse, and crepeth in
close by his Doxe: the Roge hath his leauings. If the Morts or Doxes lye
or be lodged in some Farmers barne, and the dore be ether locked or made
fast to them, then wyl not the vpright man presse to come in, Vnles it
be in barnes and oute houses standinge alone, or some distance from
houses, which be commonly knowne to them, As saint Quintens, thrée
Cranes of the vintrey, Saynt Tybbes, and Knapsbery. These foure be with
in one myle compasse neare vnto London. Then haue you iiij. more in
Middlesex, drawe the pudding out of the fyre in Harrow on the hyll
parish, _th_e Crose Keyes in Cranford[152] parish, Saynt Iulyans in
Thystell worth parish, the house of pyty in Northhall parysh. These are
their chiefe houses neare about London, where commonly they resorte vnto
for Lodginge, and maye repaire thether freelye at all tymes. Sometyme
shall come in some Roge, some pyckinge knaue, a nymble Prygge; he
walketh in softly a nightes, when they be at their rest, and plucketh of
as many garmentes as be ought worth that he maye come by, and worth
money, and maye easely cary the same, and runneth a waye with the same
with great seleritye, and maketh porte sale at some conuenient place of
theirs, that some be soone ready in the morning, for want of their
Casters _and_ Togema_n_s. Where in stéede of blessinge is cursing; in
place of praying, pestelent prating with odious othes _and_ terrible
threatninges. The vpright men haue geuen all these nycke names to the
places aboue sayde. Y[e]t haue *[leaf 25, back]* we two notable places
in Kent, not fare from London: the one is betwene Detforde and Rothered,
called the Kynges barne, standing alone, that they haunt commonly; the
other is Ketbroke, standinge by blacke heath, halfe a myle from anye
house. There wyll they boldlye drawe the latche of the doore, and go in
when the good man with hys famyly be at supper, and syt downe without
leaue, and eate and drinke with them, and either lye in the hall by the
fyre all night, or in _th_e barne, if there be no rome in the house for
them. If the doore be eyther bolted or lockt, if it be not opened vnto
them when they wyl, they wyl breake the same open to his farther cost.
And in this barne sometyme do lye xl. vpright men with their Doxes
together at one time. And this must the poore Farmer suffer, or els they
threaten him to burne him, and all that he hath.

       *       *       *       *       *



HEre followeth the vnrulye rablement of rascals, and the moste notoryous
and wyckedst walkers that are lyuinge nowe at this present, with their
true names as they be called and knowne by. And although I set and place
here but thre orders, yet, good Reader, vnderstand that all the others
aboue named are deriued and come out from the vpright men and Roges.
Concerning the number of Mortes and Doxes, it is superfluous to wryte of
them. I could well haue don it, but the number of them is great, and
woulde aske a large volume.



  Antony Heymer.

  Antony Iackeson.



  Bryan medcalfe.


  Core the Cuekold.

  Chrystoner Cooke.


  Dowzabell skylfull in fence.

  Dauid Coke.

  Dycke Glouer.

  Dycke Abrystowe.

  Dauid Edwardes.

  Dauid Holand.

  Dauid Iones.


  Edmund Dun, a singing Man.

  Edward Skiner, _alias_ Ned Skinner.

  Edward Browne.


  Follentine Hylles.

  Fardinando angell.

  Fraunces Dawghton.



  Great Iohn Graye.

  George Marrinar.

  George Hutchinson.


  Hary Hylles, alias Harry godepar.

  *[leaf 26]* Harry Agglyntine.

  Harry Smyth, he driueleth whe_n_ he speaketh.

  Harry Ionson.


  Iames Barnard.

  Iohn Myllar.

  Iohn Walchman.

  Iohn Iones.

  Iohn Teddar.

  Iohn Braye.

  Iohn Cutter.

  Iohn Bell.

  Iohn Stephens.

  Iohn Graye.

  Iohn Whyte.

  Iohn Rewe.

  Iohn Mores.

  Iohn a Farnando.

  Iohn Newman.

  Iohn Wyn, _alias_ Wylliams.

  Iohn a Pycons.

  Iohn Tomas.

  Iohn Arter.

  Ion Palmer, _alias_ Tod.

  Iohn Geffrey.

  Iohn Goddard.

  Iohn Graye the lytle.

  Iohn Graye the great.

  Iohn Wylliams the Longer.

  Iohn Horwood, a maker of wels; he wyll take halfe his bargayne in hand,
  _and_ when hée hath wrought ii. or iii. daies, he runneth away with his

  Iohn Peter.

  Iohn Porter.

  Iohn Appowes.

  Iohn Arter.

  Iohn Bates.

  Iohn Comes.

  Iohn Chyles, _alias_ great Chyles.

  Iohn Leuet; he maketh tappes and fausets.

  Iohn Louedall, a maister of fence.

  Iohn Louedale.

  Iohn Mekes.

  Iohn Appowell.

  Iohn Chappell.

  Iohn Gryffen.

  Iohn Mason.

  Iohn Humfrey, with the lame hand.

  Iohn Stradling, with the shaking head.

  Iohn Franke.

  Iohn Baker.

  Iohn Bascafeld.



  Lennard Iust.

  Long Gréene.

  Laurence Ladd.

  Laurence Marshall.



  Nicolas Wilson.

  Ned Barington.

  Ned Wetherdon.

  Ned holmes.



  Phyllype Gréene.



  Robart Grauener.

  Robart Gerse.

  Robart Kynge.

  Robart Egerton.

  Robart Bell, brother to Iohn Bell.

  Robart Maple.

  Robart Langton.

  Robyn Bell.

  Robyn Toppe.

  Robart Brownswerd, he werith his here long.

  Robart Curtes.

  Rychard Brymmysh.

  Rychard Iustyce.

  Rychard Barton.

  Rychard Constance.

  Rychard Thomas.

  Rychard Cadman.

  Rychard Scategood.

  Rychard Apryce.

  Rychard Walker.

  Rychard Coper.


  Steuen Neuet.


  Thomas Bulloke. *[leaf 26, back]*

  Thomas Cutter.

  Thomas Garret.

  Thomas Newton.

  Thomas Web.

  Thomas Graye, his toes be gonne.

  Tom Bodel.

  Thomas Wast.

  Thomas Dawso_n_ _alias_ Thomas Iacklin.

  Thomas Basset.

  Thomas Marchant.

  Thomas Web.

  Thomas Awefeld.

  Thomas Gybbins.

  Thomas Lacon.

  Thomas Bate.

  Thomas Allen.



  Welarayd Richard.

  Wyllia_m_ Chamborne.

  Wylliam Pannell.

  Wylliam Morgan.

  Wylliam Belson.

  Wylliam Ebes.

  Wylliam Garret.

  Wylliam Robynson.

  Wylliam Vmberuile.

  Wylliam Dauids.

  Wyll Pen.

  Wylliam Iones.

  Wyll Powell.

  Wylliam Clarke.

  Water Wirall.

  Wylliam Browne.

  Water Martyne.[154]

  Wylliam Grace.

  Wylliam Pyckering.




  Arche Dowglas, a Scot.


  Blacke Dycke.



  Dycke Durram.

  Dauid Dew neuet, a counterfet Cranke.


  Edward Ellys.

  Edward Anseley.



  George Belberby.


  Gerard Gybbin, a counterfet Cranke.


  Hary Walles, with the lytle mouth.

  Humfrey ward.

  Harry Mason.


  Iohn Warren.

  Iohn Donne, with one legge.

  Iohn Elson.

  Iohn Raynoles, Irysh man.

  Iohn Harrys.

  Iames Monkaster, a counterfet Cranke.

  Iohn Dewe.

  Iohn Crew, with one arme.

  Iohn Browne, great stamerar.


  Lytle Dycke.

  Lytle Robyn.

  Lambart Rose.


  More, burnt in the hand.[155]


  Nicholas Adames, a great stamerar.[156]

  Nycholas Crispyn.

  Nycholas Blunt _alias_ Nycholas Gennings, a counterfet Cranke.

  Nycholas Lynch.


  Rychard Brewton.

  Rychard Horwod, well nere lxxx. yeares olde; he wyll byte a vi. peny
  nayle a sonder w_i_t_h_ his téeth, and a bawdye *[leaf 27]* dronkard.

  Richard Crane; he carieth a Kynchne Co at his backe.

  Rychard Iones.

  Raffe Ketley.

  Robert Harrison.


  Simon Kynge.


  Thomas Paske.

  [157]Thomas Bere.

  Thomas Shawnean, Irish man.

  Thomas Smith, _with_ the skald skyn.[157]


  Wylliam Carew.

  Wylliam wastfield.


  Wylliam Gynkes, with a whyte bearde, a lusty and stronge man; he runneth
  about the countrey to séeke worke, with a byg boy, his sonne carying his
  toles as a dawber or playsterer, but lytle worke serueth him.






  Dycke Sehan Irish.

  Dauid Powell.

  Dauid Iones, a counterfet Crank.


  Edward Heyward, hath his Morte following him, which fained the Cranke.

  Edward Lewes, a dummerer.


  Hugh Iones.


  Iohn Perse,[158] a counterfet Cranke.

  Iohn dauids.

  Iohn Harrison.

  Iohn Carew.

  Iames Lane, with one eye, Irish.

  Iohn Fysher.

  Iohn Dewe.

  Iohn Gylford, Irish, w_i_t_h_ a counterfet lisence.


  Laurence, with the great legge.


  Nycholas Newton, carieth a fained lisence.

  Nicholas Decase.




  Robart Lackley.

  Robart Canloke.

  Richard Hylton, caryeth ii. Kynchen mortes about him.

  Richard Thomas.


  Soth gard.



  Thomas Edwards.

  Thomas Dauids.

  Wylliam Thomas.

  Wylliam Coper with the Harelyp.

  Wyll Pettyt, beareth a Kinche_n_ mort at his back.

  Wylliam Bowmer.

There is aboue an hundreth of Irish men and women that wander about to
begge for their lyuing, that hath come ouer within these two yeares.
They saye the[y] haue béene burned and spoyled by the Earle of Desmond,
and report well of the Earle of Vrmond.

¶ All these aboue wryten for the most part walke about Essex, Myddlesex,
Sussex, Surrey, and Kent. Then let the reader iudge what number walkes
in other Shieres, I feare me to great a number, if they be well


*[leaf 27, back]* [159]Here followyth their pelting speche.[159]

HEre I set before the good Reader the leud, lousey language of these
lewtering Luskes _and_ lasy Lorrels, where with they bye and sell the
common people as they pas through the countrey. Whych language they
terme Peddelars Frenche, a vnknowen toung onely, but to these bold,
beastly, bawdy Beggers, and vaine Vacabondes, being halfe myngled with
Englyshe, when it is famyliarlye talked, and fyrste placinge thinges by
their proper names as an Introduction to this peuyshe spéeche.

  Nab, *a head*.

  Nabchet, *a hat or cap*.

  Glasyers, *eyes*.

  a smelling chete, *a nose*.

  gan, *a mouth*.

  a pratling chete, *a tounge*.

  Crashing chetes, *téeth*.

  Hearing chetes, *eares*.

  fambles, *handes*.

  a fambling chete, *a rynge on thy hand*.

  quaromes, *a body*.

  prat, *a buttocke*.

  stampes, *legges*.

  a caster, *a cloke*.

  a togeman, *a cote*.

  a commission, *a shierte*.

  drawers, *hosen*.

  stampers, *shooes*.

  a mofling chete, *a napkyn*.

  a belly chete, *an apern*.

  dudes, *clothes*.

  a lag of dudes, *a bucke of clothes*.

  a slate or slates, *a shéete or shetes*.

  lybbege, *a bed*.

  bunge, *a pursse*.

  lowre, *monye*.

  mynt, *golde*.

  a bord, *a shylling*.

  halfe a borde, *sixe pence*.

  flagg, *a groate*.

  a wyn, *a penny*.

  a make, *a halfepeny*.

  bowse, *drynke*.

  bene, *good*.

  benshyp, *very good*.

  quier, *nought*.

  a gage, *a quarte pot*.

  a skew, *a cuppe*.

  pannam,[160] *bread*.

  cassan, *chéese*.

  yaram,[161] *mylke*.

  lap, *butter milke or whey*.

  *[leaf 28]* pek, *meate*.

  poppelars, *porrage*.

  ruff pek, *baken*.

  a grunting chete or a patricos kynchen, *a pyg*.

  a cakling chete, *a cocke or capon*.

  a margery prater, *a hen*.

  a Roger or tyb of the buttery, *a Goose*.

  a quakinge chete or a red shanke, *a drake or ducke*.

  grannam, *corne*.

  a lowhinge chete, *a Cowe*.

  a bletinge chete, *a calfe or shéepe*.

  a prauncer, *a horse*.

  autem, *a church*.

  Salomon, *a alter or masse*.

  patrico, *a priest*.

  nosegent, *a Nunne*.

  a gybe, *a writinge*.

  a Iarke, *a seale*.

  a ken, *a house*.

  a staulinge ken, *a house that wyll receaue stolen ware*.

  a bousing ken, *a ale house*.

  a Lypken, *a house to lye in*.

  a Lybbege, *a bedde*.

  glymmar, *fyre*.

  Rome bouse, *wyne*.

  lage, *water*.

  a skypp_e_r, *a barne*.

  stromell, *strawe*.

  a gentry cofes ke_n_, *A nobl_e_ or gentlemans house*.

  a gygger, *a doore*.


  bufe, *a dogge*.

  the lightmans, *the daye*.

  the darkemans, *the nyght*.

  Rome vyle, *London*.

  dewse a vyle, *the countrey*.

  Rome mort, *the Quene*.

  a gentry cofe, *a noble or gentleman*.

  a gentry morte, *A noble or gentle woman*.

  the quyer cuffyn,[162] *the Iusticer of peace*.

  the harman beck, *the Counstable*.

  the harmans, *the stockes*.

  Quyerkyn, *a pryson house*.

  Quier crampinges, *boltes or fetters*.

  tryninge, *hanginge*.

  chattes, *the gallowes*.

  the hygh pad, *the hygh waye*.

  the ruffmans, *the wodes or bushes*.

  a smellinge chete, *a garden or orchard*.

  crassinge chetes, *apels, peares or anye other frute*.

  *to fylche, to beate, to stryke, to robbe*.[163]

  to nyp a boung, *to cut a pursse*.

  To skower the cramprings, *[leaf 28, back] to weare boltes or fetters*.

  to heue a bough, *to robbe or rifle a boeweth*.

  to cly the gerke, *to be whypped*.

  to cutte benle,[164] *to speake gently*.

  to cutte bene whydds, *to speake or geue good wordes*.

  to cutte quyre whyddes, *to geue euell wordes or euell language*.

  to cutte, *to saye*.

  to towre, *to sée*.

  to bowse, *to drynke*.

  to maunde, *to aske or requyre*.

  to stall, *to make or ordaine*.

  to cante, *to speake*.

  to myll a ken, *to robbe a house*.

  to prygge, *to ryde*.

  to dup the gyger, *to open the doore*.

  to couch a hogshead, *to lye downe and sléepe*.

  to nygle, *to haue to do with a woman carnally*.

  stow you, *holde your peace*.

  bynge a waste, *go you hence*.

  to the ruffian, *to the deuell*.

  the ruffian cly the, *the deuyll take thée*.


¶ The vpright Cofe canteth to the Roge.[165]

*The vpright man speaketh to the Roge.*


    Bene Lightmans to thy quarromes, in what lipken hast thou lypped in
    this darkemans, whether in a lybbege or in the strummell?

    *God morrowe to thy body, in what house hast thou lyne in all night,
    whether in a bed, or in the strawe?*


    I couched a hogshead in a Skypper this darkemans.
    *I layd[167] me downe to sléepe in a barne this night.*


    I towre the strummel trine vpon thy nabchet[169] _and_ Togman.
    *I sée the strawe hang vpon thy cap and coate.*


    I saye by the Salomon I will lage it of with a gage of benebouse;
    then cut to my nose watch.

    *I sweare by the masse[170], I wull washe it of with a quart of good
    drynke; [leaf 29][171] then saye to me what thou wylt.*

    MAN. Why, hast thou any lowre in thy bonge to bouse?
         *Why, hast thou any money in thy purse to drinke?*

    ROGE. But a flagge, a wyn, and a make.
          *But a grot, a penny, and a halfe penny.*

    MAN. Why, where is the kene that hath the bene bouse?
         *where is the house that hath good drinke?*

    ROGE. A bene mort hereby at the signe of the prauncer.
          *A good wyfe here by at the signe of the hors.*

    MAN. I cutt it is quyer buose, I bousd a flagge the laste dark mans.
         *I saye it is small and naughtye drynke. I dranke a groate there
         the last night.*

    ROGE. But bouse there a bord, _and_ thou shalt haue beneship.
          *But drinke there a shyllinge, and thou shalt haue very good.*

    Tower ye yander is the kene, dup the gygger, and maund that is bene

    *Se you, yonder is the house, open the doore, and aske for the best.*

    MAN. This bouse is as benshyp[172] as rome bouse.
         *This drinke is as good as wyne.*

    Now I tower that bene bouse makes nase nabes.
    *Now I se that good drinke makes a dronken heade.*

    Maunde of this morte what bene pecke is in her ken.
    *Aske of this wyfe what good meate shee hath in her house.*

    ROGE. She hath a Cacling chete, a grunting chete, ruff Pecke, cassan,
          and popplarr of yarum.
          *She hath a hen, a pyg, baken, chese and mylke porrage.*

    MAN. That is beneshyp to our watche.
         *That is very good for vs.*

    Now we haue well bousd, let vs strike some chete.
    *Nowe we haue well dronke, let us steale some thinge.*

    Yonder dwelleth a quyere cuffen, it were beneship to myll hym.
    *Yonder dwelleth a hoggeshe and choyrlyshe man, it were very well
    donne to robbe him.*

    ROGE. Nowe bynge we a waste to the hygh pad, the ruffmanes is by.
          Naye, let vs go hence to the hygh waye, the wodes is at hand.

    MAN. So may we happen on the Harmanes, and cly the Iarke, or to the
    quyerken and skower quyaer cramprings, and so to tryning on the

    *[leaf 29, back] So we maye chaunce to set in the stockes, eyther
    be whypped, eyther had to prison house, and there be shackled with
    bolttes and fetters, and then to hange on the gallowes.*

    Gerry gan, the ruffian clye thee.
    *A torde in thy mouth, the deuyll take thee.*

    MAN. What, stowe your bene, cofe, and cut benat whydds, and byng we
    to rome vyle, to nyp a bong; so shall we haue lowre for the bousing
    ken, and when we byng back to the deuseauyel, we wyll fylche some
    duddes of the Ruffemans, or myll the ken for a lagge of dudes.

    *What, holde your peace, good fellowe, and speake better wordes, and
    go we to London, to cut a purse; then shal we haue money for the ale
    house, and when wee come backe agayne into the country, wee wyll
    steale some lynnen clothes of one[173] hedges, or robbe some house
    for a bucke of clothes.*

¶ By this lytle ye maye holy and fully vnderstande their vntowarde talke
and pelting speache, mynglede without measure; and as they haue begonne
of late to deuyse some new termes for certien thinges, so wyll they in
tyme alter this, and deuyse as euyll or worsse. This language nowe
beinge knowen and spred abroade, yet one thinge more I wyll ad vnto, not
meaninge to Englyshe the same, because I learned the same[174] of a
shameles Doxe, but for the phrase of speche I set it forth onely.

There was a proude patrico and a nosegent, he tooke his Iockam in his
famble, and a wappinge he went, he dokte the Dell, hee pryge to praunce,
he byngd a waste into the darke mans, he fylcht the Cofe, with out any
fylch man.


WHyle this second Impression was in printinge, it fortuned that Nycholas
Blunte, who called hym selfe Nycholan Gennyns, a counterefet Cranke,
that is spoken of in this booke, was fonde begging in the whyte fryers
on Newe yeares day last past, Anno domini. 1567, and commytted vnto a
offescer, who caried hym vnto the depetye of the ward, which co_m_mytted
hym vnto the counter; _and_ as the counstable and a nother would haue
caried hym thether, This counterfet Cranke ran awaye, but one lyghter of
fote then the other ouer toke hym, _and_ so leading him to the counter,
where he remayned three days, _and_ from thence to Brydewell, where
before the maister[175] he had his dysgysed aparell put vpon hym, which
was monstrous to beholde, And after stode in Chepesyde w_i_t_h_ _th_e
same apparil on a scafold.[176]

    A Stockes to staye sure, and safely detayne, *[leaf 30]*
      Lasy lewd Leutterers, that lawes do offend,
    Impudent persons, thus punished with payne,
      Hardlye for all this, do meane to amende.



      Fetters or shackles serue to make fast,
    Male malefactours, that on myschiefe do muse,
      Vntyll the learned lawes do quite or do cast,
    Such, suttile searchers, as all euyll do vse.



    {A whyp is a whysker, that wyll wrest out blood, *[lf 30, bk]*
    {Of backe and of body, beaten right well.
      Of all the other it doth the most good,
    Experience techeth, and they can well tell.


      ¶ O dolefull daye! nowe death draweth nere,
    Hys bytter styng doth pearce me to the harte.
      I take my leaue of all that be here,
    Nowe piteously playing this tragicall parte.
      Neither stripes nor teachinges in tyme could conuert,
    wherefore an ensample let me to you be,
      And all that be present, nowe praye you for me.



    [177]¶ This counterfet Cranke, nowe vew and beholde,
      Placed in pyllory, as all maye well se:
    This was he, as you haue hard the tale tolde,
      before recorded with great suttylte,
    Ibused manye with his inpiete,
      his lothsome attyre, in most vgly manner,
    was through London caried with dysplayd banner.[178]


    [Symbol: Right Index] Thus I conclude my bolde Beggars booke,
    That all estates most playnely maye see,
    As in a glasse well pollyshed to looke,
    Their double demeaner in eche degree.
    Their lyues, their language, their names as they be,
    That with this warning their myndes may be warmed,
    To amend their mysdeedes, and so lyue vnharmed.


¶ Imprinted at London, in Fletestrete, at the signe of the Faulcon by
Wylliam gryffith. Anno Domni. 1567.[179]


[42] leaf 2 _b._ Bodley edition (B).

[43] The severe Act against vagrants, Ed. VI., c. 3, was passed in 1548,
only 19 years before the date of this 2nd edition.

[44] The 1573 edition reads _pynking_.

[45] So printed in both 1567 editions. 1573 reads _housholders_; but
_Borsholders_ is doubtless meant.

[46] leaf 3. B.

[47] Printed "_brfore_."

[48] _reclamation._ B.

[49] The 1573 edition reads _and_.

[50] The 1573 edition here inserts the word _or_.

[51] _vanished._ B.

[52] _fyt._ B.

[53] The 1573 ed. reads _not_.

[54] This word is omitted in the 1573 ed.

[55] The chapters are not noted in the Bodley ed.

[56] The 1573 ed. here inserts the word _he_.

[57] 1573 reads _if_.

[58] 1573 has _or_.

[59] Printed "_vpreght_." _vpright_ in Bodley ed.

[60] 1573, _be_.

[61] 1573, _as_.

[62] _the._ B.

[63] _dogges._ B.

[64] 1573 inserts _and_.

[65] 1573 omits.

[66] 1573 omits.

[67] _saith._ B.

[68] 1573, _myne_.

[69] _tarying._ B.

[70] So printed. Bodley ed. has _the_.

[71] _sakes._ B.

[72] Omitted in 1573.

[73] so printed.

[74] _the._ B.

[75] Why ... end. B. omits.

[76] 1573 reads _mate_.

[77] omitted in 1573.

[78] seing ... dyd. B. omits.

[79] 1573, _was_.

[80] _horses._ B.

[81] Printed _statute_.

[82] Printed _this_.

[83] B. inserts _a_.

[84] B. omits _in_.

[85] Probably the reason why "in print" came to be considered synonymous
with "correct." See 2 Gent. of Verona, act ii. sc. 1, 175.

[86] _those._ B.

[87] B. omits _the_.


    Castyng_e_ of axtre & eke of ston,
    Sofere hem þere to vse non;
    Bal, and barres, and suche play,
    Out of chyche[gh]orde put a-way.--

    Myrc, p. 11, l. 334-7 (E. E. T. Soc. 1868).

[89] Printed _hts_.

[90] _to to._ B.

[91] Omitted in 1573.

[92] _him (sic)._ B.

[93] This page is not in Bodley ed.

[94] 1573 reads _exclamation_.

[95] _they._ B.

[96] _my my._ B.

[97] _gyrken (et seqq.)._ B.

[98] _loose._ B.

[99] _refused._ B.

[100] _Gennins._ B.

[101] _trough._ B.

[102] 1573 reads _skolluer_.

[103] Omitted in 1573 edit.

[104] _sayih (sic)._ B.

[105] printed _dody_.

[106] _d. ob._ B.

[107] _bede._ B.

[108] _mans._ B.

[109] 1573 inserts _him; sette hym._ B.

[110] 1573 inserts _that_.

[111] _pence_ B.

[112] The 1573 edition reads _ioly ioylitie; gelowsy_. B.

[113] The 1573 edition finishes the sentence thus:--"ouer the fields to
his own house, as hée afterwards said."

[114] _woulde._ B.

[115] _again til now._ B.

[116] _d. ob._ B.

[117] 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 houest man, and labour truly to get his
liuing. And his picture remayneth in Bridewell for a monyment."--See,
also, _post_, p. 89.

[118] _of his._ B.

[119] _which priest had._ B.

[120] _cal-(sic)._ B.

[121] _dumme._ B.

[122] So printed. _an._ B.

[123] _pasportes._ B.

[124] _Patriarch._ B.

[125] _faynen._ B.

[126] _lamentably._ B.

[127] _beholding this._ B.

[128] _but._ B.

[129] Omitted in 1573.

[130] Rabbitskins.

[131] B. inserts _sayth she_.

[132] Omitted in 1573.

[133] 1573 reads _I am_.

[134] Omitted in 1573.

[135] _mussels._ B.

[136] _he_, ed. 1573.

[137] _I_, ed. 1573.

[138] _warrant._ B.

[139] _should._ B.

[140] 1573 reads _case_.

[141] Omitted in 1573.

[142] 1573 reads _tempting_.

[143] B. inserts _a_.

[144] _won._ B.

[145] B. omits _that_.

[146] B. inserts _that_.

[147] 1573 reads _his_.

[148] B. reads _vnsanable_, or _vnsauable_.

[149] 1573 reads _some_.

[150] _bryberinge._ B.

[151] B. reads _safely_.

[152] 1573 reads _Crayford_.

[153] The arrangement in Bodley ed. is not alphabetical.

[154] Omitted in 1573 edit.

[155] Omitted in 1573 ed.

[156] Last three words omitted in 1573 ed.

[157] The 1573 ed. arranges these names in the following order:--

  Thomas Béere.

  Irish man.

  Thomas Smith with the skalde skin.

  Thomas Shawneam.

[158] The 1573 ed. reads _Persk_.

[159] B. omits.

[160] The 1573 ed. reads _Yannam_.

[161] B. reads _yarum_. The 1573 ed. reads _Param_.

[162] _custyn._ B.

[163] For these two lines printed in small type, the 1573 edition reads,

  To fylche
  *to robbe*.

[164] _benie._ B.

[165] _Roger._ B.

[166] _man._ B.

[167] _laye._ B.

[168] B. omits _vpright_.

[169] _nabches._ B.

[170] _masst._ B.

[171] This leaf is supplied in MS. in Mr Huth's edition.

[172] _good_ in the 1573 ed.

[173] The 1573 ed. has _some_.

[174] Instead of "the same," the 1573 ed. reads _that_.

[175] _maisters_. B.

[176] This paragraph is omitted in the ed. of 1573; but see note,
_ante_, p. 56.

[177] B. omits this stanza and has inserted the following lines under
the cut.

THIS is the fygure of the counterfet Cranke, that is spoken of in this
boke of Roges, called Nycholas Blunt other wyse Nycholas Gennyngs. His
tale is in the xvii. lefe [pp. 55-6] of this booke, which doth showe
vnto all that reades it, woundrous suttell and crafty deseit donne of
_and_ by him.

[178] This verse is omitted in the edition of 1573; also the wood-cut
preceding it.

[179] B. adds 'the eight of January'. (This would make the year 1568
according to the modern reckoning. Harman's 'New Yeares day last past,
Anno domini 1567', p. 86, must also be 1567/8.)

=A Sermon in Praise of Thieves and Thievery.=

[_Lansdowne MS._ 98, _leaf_ 210.]

    A sermon made by P_ar_son Haben vppon a mold hill at Hartely
        Row,[180] at the Comaundment of vij. theves, whoe, after they
        had robbed him, Comaunded him to Preache before them.

I Marvell that eu_er_ye man will seme to dispraise theverye, and thinke
the doers thereof worthye of Death, when it is a thinge that Cometh nere
vnto vertve, and is vsed of all men, of all sort_es_ and in all
countryes, and soe comaunded and allowed of god himselfe which thinge,
because I cannot soe sapiently shewe vnto you a[181] soe shorte a tyme
and in soe shorte a place, I shall desire you, gentle theves, to take in
good p_ar_te this thinge that at this tyme Cometh to minde, not
misdoubtinge but you of yo_ur_ good knowledge are able to ad more vnto
the same then this which I at this tyme shall shewe vnto you. ffirst,
fortitude and stoutnes, Courage, and boldnes of stomacke, is Compted of
some a vertue; which beinge graunted, Whoe is he then that will not
Iudge theves vertuous, most stoute, most hardye? I most, without_e_
feare. As for stealinge, that is a thinge vsuall:--who_e_ stealeth not?
ffor not only you that haue besett me, but many other in many places.
Men, Woemen, _and_ Children, Riche and poore, are dailye of that
facultye, As the hange man of Tiborne can testifye. [Header: PARSON
HABEN'S SERMON. LANDS. MS. 98.] That it is allowed of god himselfe, it
is euident in many storyes of the Scriptures. And if you liste to looke
in the whole Course of the bible, you shall finde that theves haue bin
belovid of god. ffor Iacobe, when he Came oute of Mesopotomia, did
steale his vncles lambes; the same Iacobe stale his brother Esawes
blessinge; and that god saide, "I haue chosen Iacob and refused Esawe."
The Children of Isarell, when they came oute of Egippe, didd steale the
Egippsians Iewells and ring_es_, and god comaunded the[m] soe to doe.
David, in the dayes of Ahemel[e]ch the preiste, came into the temple and
stole awaye the shewe bread; And yet god saide, "this is a man
accordinge to myne owne harte." Alsoe Christe himsellfe, when he was
here vppon earth, did take an asse, a Colte, which was none of his owne.
And you knowe that god saide, "this is my now_n_e sone, in whome I

Thus maye you see that most of all god delighteth in theves. I marvell,
therefore, that men can despise yo_ur_ lives, when that you are in all
poynts almost like vnto Christe; for Christ hade noe dwellinge
place,--noe more haue you. Christe, therefore, at the laste, was laide
waite for in all places,--and soe are you. Christe alsoe at the laste
was called for,--and soe shall you be. He was condemned,--soe shall you
be. Christe was hanged,--soe shall you be. He descended into hell,--so
shall you. But in one pointe you differ. He assendid into heaven,--soe
shall you never, without gods mercye, Which god graunte for his mercyes
sake! Toe whome, with the so_n_ne and the holye goste, be all hono_ur_
and glory for euer and euer. Amen!

    After this good sermon ended, which Edefied them soe muche, Theye
    hadd soe muche Compassion on him, That they gave him all his mony
    agayne, and vij s more for his sermon.

=A Sermon in Praise of Thieves and Thievery.=

[_MS. Cott. Vesp._ A xxv. _leaf_ 53.]

    A sermo[n)] of pa_rs_on Hyberdyne w_hi_ch he made att the
        co_m_mandemente of certen theves, aft_e_r thay had Robbed hym,
        besyd_es_ hartlerowe, in hamshyer, in the feld_es_, ther
        standinge vpo_n_ a hy[l~l] where as a wynde myll had bene, in
        the p_re_sens of the theves _tha_t robbed hy_m_, as followithe.

  the s_er_mon as followethe

I greatly merve[l~l] _tha_t any man wy[l~l] p_re_sume to dysprase
theverie, _and_ thynke the dooer_es_ therof to be woorthy of deathe,
consyderinge itt is a thynge that cu_m_ithe nere vnto vertue, beinge
vsed of many in a[l~l] contries, And co_m_mendid _and_ allowed of god
hym selfe; the _wh_ich thinge, by-cause I cannot co_m_pendiously shew
vnto yow at soo shorte a warnynge _and_ in soo sharpe a wether, I
sha[l~l] desyer yow, gentle audiens of theves, to take in good p_ar_te
thes thyng_es_ that at thys tyme cu_m_ythe to my mynde, not mysdowtynge
but _tha_t yow of yowre good knowledge are able to add mutch more vnto
ytt the_n_ this w_hi_ch I sha[l~l] nowe vtter vnto yow. ffyrst,
fortitude, _and_ stowtnes of corage, _and_ also bowldnes of minde, is
co_m_mendyd of su_m_e men to be a vertue; w_hi_ch, beinge grawnted, who
is yt then _tha_t wy[l~l] not iudge theves to be v_er_tused? for thay be
of a[l~l] men moste stowte _and_ hardy, _and_ moste w_i_t_h_owte feare;
for thevery is a thynge moste vsua[l~l] emonge a[l~l] men, f_o_r not
only yow that be here p_re_sente, but many other in dyu_er_se plac_es_,
bothe men _and_ wemen _and_ chyldren, rytche and poore, are dayly of
thys facultye, as the hangman of tyboorne can testyfye: [Header:
PARSON HYBERDYNE'S SERMON. MS. COTT. VESP. A 26.] and that yt is allowed
of god hym selfe, as it is euydente in many storayes of [the]
scriptur_es_; for yf yow looke in the hole cowrse of the byble, yow
shall fynde that theves haue bene beloued of gode; for Iacobe, whan he
came owte of Mesopotamia, dyd steale his vncle labanes kydd_es_; the
same Iacobe also dyd steale his brothe[r] Esaues blessynge; _and_ yett
god sayde, "I haue chosen Iacobe _and_ refused Esau." The chyldren of
ysrae[l~l], wha_n_ they came owte of Egypte, dyd steale the egiptians
iewell_es_ of sylu_er_ and gowlde, as god co_m_mawnded them soo to doo.
Davyd, in the days of Abiather the hygh preste, did cu_m_e into _th_e
temple _and_ dyd steale the hallowed breede; _and_ yet god saide, "Dauid
is a ma[=n] euen after myne owne harte." Chryste hym selfe, whan he was
here on the arthe, did take an asse _and_ a cowlte _tha_t was none of
hys; _and_ yow knowe that god said of hym, "this is my beloued soone, in
whome I delighte." thus yow may see that god delightithe in theves. but
moste of a[l~l] I marve[l~l] _tha_t men can dispyse yow theves, where as
in a[l~l] poynt_es_ almoste yow be lyke vnto christe hym selfe: for
chryste had noo dwellynge place; noo more haue yow. christe wente frome
towne to towne; _and_ soo doo yow. christe was hated of a[l~l] men,
sauynge of his freend_es_; and soo are yow. christe was laid waite vpon
in many plac_es_; _and_ soo are yow. chryste at the lengthe was cawght;
_and_ soo sha[l~l] yow bee. he was browght before the iudges; _and_ soo
sha[l~l] yow bee. he was accused; _and_ soo sha[l~l] yow bee. he was
condempned; _and_ soo sha[l~l] yow bee. he was hanged; _and_ so sha[l~l]
yow bee. he wente downe into he[l~l]; _and_ soo sha[l~l] yow dooe. mary!
in this one thynge yow dyffer frome hym, for he rose agayne _and_
assendid into heauen; _and_ soo sha[l~l] yow neuer dooe, w_i_t_h_owte
god_es_ greate mercy, w_hi_ch gode grawnte yow! to whome w_i_t_h_ the
father, _and_ the soone, _and_ the hooly ghoste, bee a[l~l] honore and
glorye, for eu_er_ _and_ eu_er_. Amen!

Thus his s_er_mon beinge endyd, they gaue hy_m_ his money agayne that
thay tooke frome hym, _and_ ij^{s} to drynke for hys s_er_mon.



[180] MS Rew. Hartley Row is on the South-Western road past Bagshot. The
stretch of flat land there was the galloping place for coaches that had
to make up time.

[181] _in_.

[_The parts added to_ HARMAN'S CAUEAT _to make_]

    THE Groundworke of Conny-catching; the manner of their
    Pedlers-French, and the meanes _to vnderstand the same, with the
    cunning slights_ of the Counterfeit Cranke.

    Therein are handled the practises of the _Visiter_, the Fetches =of
    the= Shifter =and= Rufflar, =the deceits of their= Doxes, =the
    deuises= of Priggers, =the names of the base loytering Hosels, and
    the meanes of every Blacke-Art-mans shifts, with the reproofe of all
    their diuellish= practises.

    =Done by a Justice of Peace of great authoritie, who hath
    had the examining of divers of them.=


    =Printed at London by= Iohn Danter =for= William Barley, =and are to
    to be sold at his shop at the upper end of Gratious streete, ouer
    against Leaden-hall=, 1592.


*[leaf 2]* To the gentle Readers health.

Gentle reader, as there hath beene diuers bookes set forth, as warnings
for all men to shun the craftie coossening sleights of these both men
and women that haue tearmed themselues Conny-catchers; so amongst the
rest, bestow the reading ouer of this booke, wherin thou shalt find the
ground-worke of Conny-catching, with the manner of their canting speech,
how they call all things in their language, the horrible coossening of
all these loose varlots, and the names of them in their seuerall

  _First, The Visiter._
  2. _The Shifter._
  3. _The Rufflar._
  4. _The Rogue._
  5. _The wild Rogue._
  6. _A prigger of Prauncers._
  7. _A Pallyard._
  8. _A Frater._
  9. _An Abraham man._
  10. _A freshwater Marriner, or Whipiacke._
  11. _A counterfait Cranke._
  12. _A Dommerar._
  13. _A Dronken Tinkar._
  14. _A Swadder, or Pedler._
  15. _A Iarkeman & Patrico._
  16. _A demander for glimmar._
  17. _The baudy Basket._
  18. _An Autem Mort._
  19. _A walking Mort._
  20. _A Doxe._
  21. _A Dell._
  22. _Kinchin Mort._
  23. _A Kinchin Co._

All these playing their coossenings in their kinde are here set downe,
which neuer yet were disclosed in anie booke of Conny-catching.


  *[leaf 2, back]* A new kind of shifting sleight, practised at this day
        by _some of this Cony-catching crue, in Innes or vitualling
           houses, but especially in Faires or Markets_,
              which came to my hands since the imprinting
                           of the rest.

Whereas of late diuers coossening deuises and deuilish deceites haue
beene discouered, wherby great inconueniences haue beene eschewed, which
otherwise might haue beene the vtter ouerthrowe of diuers honest men of
all degrees, I thought this, amongst the rest, not the least worthie of
noting, especially of those that trade to Faires and Markets, that
therby being warned, they may likewise be armed, both to see the deceit,
and shun the daunger. These shifters will come vnto an Inne or
vittailing house, that is most vsed in the towne, and walke vp and
downe; and if there come any gentleman or other, to lay vp either cloke,
sword, or any other thing woorth the hauing, then one of this crue
taketh the marks of the thing, or at least the token the partie giueth
them: anone, after he is gone, he likewise goeth forth, and with a great
countenance commeth in againe to the mayde or seruant, calling for what
another left: if they doubt to deliuer it, then hee frets, and calles
them at his pleasure, and tels them the markes and tokens: hauing thus
done, hee blames their forgetfulnes, and giues them a couple of pence to
buy them pinnes, bidding them fetch it straight, and know him better the
next time, wherewith they are pleasd, and he possest of his pray. Thus
one gotte a bagge of Cheese the last Sturbridge Faire; for in such
places (as a reclaimd fellow of that crue confessed) they make an
ordinary practise of the same.

[_The Pedler's French_ follows, taken word for word from Harman's book,
p. 82-7 above.]

*[leaf 3]* THE VISITER.

An honest youth, not many yeares since, seruant in this City, had leaue
of his master at whitsontide to see his friends, who dwelt some fifty
miles from London. It hapned at a Country wake, his mother and hee came
acquainted with a precise scholler, that, vnder colour of strickt life,
hath bin reputed for that hee is not: hee is well knowen in Paules
Churchyard, and hath beene lately a visiting in Essex; for so he
presumes to tearme his cosening walks: and therefore wee will call him
here a Visiter. This honest seeming man must needes (sith his iourney
lay to London) stay at the yong mans mothers all the holy daies: where
as on his desert hee was kindly vsed; at length, the young man, hauing
receiued his mother's blessing, with other his friendes giftes,
amounting to some ten poundes, was to this hypocrite as to a faithful
guide committed, and toward London they ride: by the way this Visiter
discourses how excellent insight he had in Magick, to recouer by Art
anything lost or stolne. Well, to sant Albons they reach; there they sup
together, and, after the carowsing of some quarts of wine, they go to
bed, where they kindly sleepe,--the Visiter slily, but the young man
soundly. Short tale to make--out of his bed-fellow's sleeue this Visiter
conuaid his twenty Angels, besides some other od siluer, hid it closely,
and so fell to his rest. Morning comes--vp gets this couple--immediately
the money was mist, much adoo was made; the Chamberlaine with sundry
other seruants examined; and so hot the contention, that the good man,
for the discharge of his house, was sending for a Constable to haue them
both first searcht, his seruants Chests after. In the meane time the
Visiter cals the yong man aside, and bids him neuer grieue, but take
horse; and he warrants him, ere they be three miles out of towne, to
helpe him to his money by Art, saying:--"In these Innes ye see how we
shall be out-faced, and, beeing vnknowne, how euer we be wrongd, get
little remedy." The yong man, in good hope, desired him to pay the
reckoning, which done, together they ride. Being some two miles from the
towne, they ride out of the ordinary way: there he tels this youth how
vnwilling hee was to enter into the action, but that it was lost in his
company, and so forth. Well, a Circle was made, wondrous words were
vsed, many muttrings made: at length hee cries out,--"vnder a greene
turfe, by the East side of an Oake; goe thither, goe thither." This
thrice he cryed so ragingly, as the yuong man gest him mad, and was with
feare almost beside himself. At length, pausing, quoth this Visiter,
"heard ye nothing cry?" "Cry!" said the yong man, "yes; *[leaf 5, back]*
you cride so as, for twise ten pound, I would not heare ye again."
"Then," quoth he, "'tis all well, if ye remember the words." The yong
man repeated them. With that this shifter said, "Go to the furthest Oke
in the high-way towards S. Albons, and vnder a greene turfe, on the
hither side, lyes your mony, and a note of his name that stole it. Hence
I cannot stirre till you returne; neyther may either of our horses be
vntide for that time: runne yee must not, but keepe an ordinary pace."
Away goes the yong man gingerly; and, being out of sight, this copesmate
takes his cloke-bag, wherein was a faire sute of apparel, and, setting
spurres to his horse, was, ere the Nouice returned, ridde cleane out of
his view. The yong man, seeing himselfe so coossened, made patience his
best remedie, tooke his horse, and came to London, where yet it was
neuer his lucke to meet this visiter.



A Shifter, not long since, going ordinarily booted, got leaue of a
Carrier to ride on his owne hackney a little way from London, who,
comming to the Inne where the Carier that night should lodge, honestly
set vp the horse, and entred the hal, where were at one table some three
and thirty clothiers, all returning to their seuerall countries. Vsing,
as he could, his curtesie, and being Gentleman-like attirde, he was at
all their instance placed at the vpper end by the hostesse. After hee
had a while eaten, he fel to discourse with such pleasance, that all the
table were greatly delighted therewith. In the midst of supper enters a
noise of musitions, who with their instruments added a double delight.
For them hee requested his hostesse to laye a shoulder of mutton and a
couple of capons to the fire, for which he would pay, _and_ then mooued
in their behalfe to gather. Among them a noble was made, which he
fingring, was well blest; for before he had not a crosse, yet he promist
to make it vp an angel. To be short, in comes the reckoning, which (by
reason of the fine fare _and_ excesse of wine) amounted to each mans
halfe crown. Then hee requested his hostesse to prouide so many possets
of sacke, as would furnish the table, which he would bestow on the
Gentlemen to requite their extraordinary costs: _and_ iestingly askt if
she would make him her deputie to gather the reckoning; she graunted,
and he did so: and on a sodaine, (faining to hasten his hostesse with
the possets) he tooke his cloke, and, finding fit time, hee slipt out of
doores, leauing the guestes and their hostesse to a new reckoning, _and_
the musitians to a good supper, but they paid for the sauce. This iest
some vntruly attribute to a man of excellent parts about London, but he
is slandered: the party that performed it hath scarce any good qualitie
to liue. Of these sort I could set downe a great number, but I leaue you
now vnto those which by Maister Harman are discouered.

    [Then follows Harman's book, commencing with a Ruffelar, p. 29. The
    woodcut of Nicolas Blunt and Nicolas Geninges (p. 50, above) is
    given, and another one representing the Cranke after he was stripped
    and washed. The volume ends with the chapter "Their vsage in the
    night," p. 76-8 above,--the woodcuts and verses at the end of
    Harman's book being omitted in the present _Groundworke of
    Conny-catching_. The last words in the latter are, "And this must
    the poore Farmer suffer, or els they threaten to burne him, and all
    that he hath."]



p. vii. ix, p. 19, 20. _Elizabeth, Countess of Shrewsbury, and her
parish._ The manor of Erith was granted to Elizabeth, Countess of
Shrewsbury, by Henry VIII. in the 36th year of his reign, A.D. 1544-5.
The Countess died in 1567, and was buried in the parish church of Erith.
"The manor of Eryth becoming part of the royal revenue, continued in the
crown till K. Henry VIII. in his 36th year, granted it in fee to
Elizabeth, relict of George, Earl of Shrewsbury, by the description of
the _manor, of Eryth, alias Lysnes_, with all its members and appurts.,
and also all that wood, called Somersden, lying in Eryth, containing 30
acres; and a wood, called Ludwood, there, containing 50 acres; and a
wood, called Fridayes-hole, by estimation, 20 acres, to hold of the King
_in capite_ by knight's service.[182] She was the second wife of George,
Earl of Shrewsbury, Knight of the Garter,[183] who died July 26, anno
33 K. Henry VIII.,[184] by whom she had issue one son, John, who died
young; and Anne, married to Peter Compton, son and heir of Sir Wm.
Compton, Knt., who died in the 35th year of K. Henry VIII., under age,
as will be mentioned hereafter. Elizabeth, Countess of Shrewsbury, in
Easter Term, in the 4th year of Q. Elizabeth, levied a fine of this
manor, with the passage over the Thames; and dying in the tenth year of
that reign, anno 1567,[185] lies buried under a sumptuous tomb, in this
church. Before her death this manor, &c., seem to have been settled on
her only daughter Anne, then wife of Wm. Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, and
widow of Peter Compton, as before related, who was in possession of it,
with the passage over the Thames, anno 9 Q. Elizabeth."--Hasted's
_History of Kent_, vol. i. p. 196.

p. ix. In Lambarde's _Perambulation of Kent_ (edit. 1826), p. 66, he
mentions "Thomas Herman" as being one of the "Kentish writers."

Lambarde, in the same volume, p. 60, also mentions "Abacuk Harman" as
being the name of one "of suche of the nobilitie and gentrie, as the
Heralds recorded in their visitation in 1574."

There is nothing about Harman in Mr Sandys's book on Gavelkind, &c.,
_Consuetudines Cantiæ_. To future inquirers perhaps the following book
may be of use:

"_Bibliotheca Cantiana_: A Bibliographical Account of what has been
published on the History, Topography, Antiquities, Customs, and Family
History of the County of Kent." By John Russell Smith.

p. 1, 12. _The .xxv. Orders of Knaues._--Mr Collier gives an entry in
the Stationers' Registers in 1585-6: "Edward White. Rd. of him, for
printinge xxij^{tl} ballades at iiij^{d} a peece--vij^{s} iiij^{d}, and
xiiij. more at ij^{d} a peece ij^{s} iiij^{d} ... ix^{s} viij^{d}" And
No. 23 is "The xxv^{tie} orders of knaves."--_Stat. Reg._ ii. 207.

p. 22. _The last Duke of Buckingham was beheaded._--Edward Stafford,
third Duke of Buckingham, one of Henry VIII.'s and Wolsey's victims, was
beheaded on Tower Hill, May 17, 1521, for 'imagining' the king's death.
('The murnynge of Edward Duke of Buckyngham' was one of certain
'ballettes' licensed to Mr John Wallye and Mrs Toye in 1557-8, says Mr
J. P. Collier, _Stat. Reg._ i. 4.) His father (Henry Stafford) before
him suffered the same fate in 1483, having been betrayed by his servant
Bannister after his unsuccessful rising in Brecon.--_Percy Folio
Ballads_, ii. 253.

p. 23. _Egiptians._ The Statute 22 Hen. VIII. c. 10 is _An Acte
concernyny Egypsyans_. After enumerating the frauds committed by the
"outlandysshe people callynge themselfes Egyptians," the first section
provides that they shall be punished by Imprisonment and loss of goods,
and be deprived of the benefit of 8 Hen. VI. c. 29. "de medietate
linguæ." The second section is a proclamation for the departure from the
realm of all such Egyptians. The third provides that stolen goods shall
be restored to their owners; and the fourth, that one moiety of the
goods seized from the Egyptians shall be given to the seizer.

p. 48, l. 5. _The Lord Sturtons man; and when he was executed._ Charles
Stourton, 7th Baron, 1548-1557:--"Which Charles, with the help of four
of his own servants in his own house, committed a shameful murther upon
one Hargill, and his son, with whom he had been long at variance, and
buried their Carcasses 50 foot deep in the earth, thinking thereby to
prevent the discovery; but it coming afterwards to light, he had
sentence of death passed upon him, which he suffer'd at Salisbury, the
6th of March, Anno 1557, 4 Phil. & Mary, by an Halter of Silk, in
respect of his quality."--_The Peerage of England_, vol. ii. p. 24
(Lond., 1710).

p. 77. _Saint Quinten's._ Saint Quinten was invoked against coughs, says
Brand, ed. Ellis, 1841, i. 196.

p. 77. _The Three Cranes in the Vintry._ "Then the Three Cranes' lane,
so called, not only of _a sign of three cranes at a tavern door_, but
rather of three strong cranes of timber placed on the Vintry wharf by
the Thames side, to crane up wines there, as is afore showed. This lane
was of old time, to wit, the 9th of Richard II., called The Painted
Tavern lane, of the tavern being painted."--Stow's _Survey of London_,
ed. by Thoms, p. 90.

"The Three Cranes was formerly a favourite London sign. With the usual
jocularity of our forefathers, an opportunity for punning could not be
passed; so, instead of the three cranes, which in the vintry used to
lift the barrels of wine, three birds were represented. The Three Cranes
in Thames Street, or in the vicinity, was a famous tavern as early as
the reign of James I. It was one of the taverns frequented by the wits
in Ben Jonson's time. In one of his plays he says:--

'A pox o' these pretenders! to wit, your _Three Cranes_, Mitre and
Mermaid men! not a corn of true salt, not a grain of right mustard among
them all!'--_Bartholomew Fair_, act i. sc. 1.

"On the 23rd of January, 1661/2 Pepys suffered a strong mortification
of the flesh in having to dine at this tavern with some poor relations.
The sufferings of the snobbish secretary must have been intense:--

'By invitation to my uncle Fenner's, and where I found his new wife, a
_pitiful, old, ugly, ill-bred_ woman in a hatt, a mid-wife. Here were
many of his, and as many of her, relations, _sorry, mean people_; and
after choosing our gloves, we all went over to the Three Cranes Taverne;
and though the best room of the house, in such a narrow dogghole we
were crammed, and I believe we were near 40, that it made me loath my
company and victuals, and a very poor dinner it was too.'

"Opposite this tavern people generally left their boats to shoot the
bridge, walking round to Billingsgate, where they would reenter
them."--Hotten's _History of Signboards_, p. 204.

p. 77. _Saynt Iulyans in Thystellworth parish._ 'Thistleworth, see
Isleworth,' says Walker's Gazetteer, ed. 1801. That there might well
have been a St Julyan's Inn there we learn from the following extract:

"St. Julian, the patron of travellers, wandering minstrels,
boatmen,[186] &c., was a very common inn sign, because he was supposed
to provide good lodgings for such persons. Hence two St. Julian's
crosses, in saltier, are in chief of the innholders' arms, and the old
motto was:--'When I was harbourless, ye lodged me.' This benevolent
attention to travellers procured him the epithet of 'the good
herbergeor,' and in France '_bon herbet_.' His legend in a MS.,
Bodleian, 1596, fol. 4, alludes to this:--

    'Therefore yet to this day, thei that over lond wende,
    They biddeth Seint Julian, anon, that gode herborw he hem sende;
    And Seint Julianes Pater Noster ofte seggeth also
    For his faders soule, and his moderes, that he hem bring therto.'

And in '_Le dit des Heureux_,' an old French fabliau:--

    'Tu as dit la patenotre
    Saint Julian à cest matin,
    Soit en Roumans, soit en Latin;
    Or tu seras bien ostilé.'

In mediæval French, _L'hotel Saint Julien_ was synonymous with good

    '---- Sommes tuit vostre.
    Par Saint Pierre le bon Apostre,
    L'ostel aurez Saint Julien,'

says Mabile to her feigned uncle in the fabliau of '_Boivin de
Provins_;' and a similar idea appears in 'Cocke Lorell's bote,' where
the crew, after the entertainment with the 'relygyous women' from the
Stews' Bank, at Colman's Hatch,

    'Blessyd theyr shyppe when they had done,
    And dranke about a _Saint Julyan's_ tonne.'

  Hotten's _History of Signboards_," p. 283.

"Isleworth in Queen Elizabeth's time was commonly in conversation, and
sometimes in records, called Thistleworth."--Lysons' _Environs of
London_, vol. iii. p. 79.

p. 77. _Rothered_: ? Rotherhithe.

p. 77. _The Kynges Barne_, betwene Detforde and Rothered, can hardly be
the great hall of Eltham palace. Lysons (_Environs of London_, iv. p.
399) in 1796, says the hall was then used as a barn; and in vol. vi. of
the _Archæologia_, p. 367, it is called "King John's Barn."

p. 77. _Ketbroke._ Kidbrooke is marked in large letters on the east of
Blackheath on the mordern Ordnance-map; and on the road from Blackheath
to Eltham are the villages or hamlets of Upper Kidbrooke and Lower

"Kedbrooke lies adjoining to Charlton, on the south side of the London
Road, a small distance from Blackheath. It was antiently written
Cicebroc, and was once a parish of itself, though now (1778 A.D.) it is
esteemed as an appendage to that of Charlton."--Hasted's _History of
Kent_, vol. i. p. 40.

p. 100. _Sturbridge Fair._ Stourbridge, or Sturbich, the name of a
common field, extending between Chesterton and Cambridge, near the
little brook Sture, for about half a mile square, is noted for its fair,
which is kept annually on September 19th, and continues a fortnight. It
is surpassed by few fairs in Great Britain, or even in Europe, for
traffic, though of late it is much lessened. The booths are placed in
rows like streets, by the name[s] of which they are called, as
Cheapside, &c., and are filled with all sorts of trades. The Duddery, an
area of 80 or 100 yards square, resembles Blackwell Hall. Large
commissions are negotiated here for all parts of England in _cheese_,
woolen goods, wool, leather, hops, upholsterers' and ironmongers' ware,
&c. &c. Sometimes 50 hackney coaches from London, ply morning and night,
to and from Cambridge, as well as all the towns round, and the very
barns and stables are turned into inns for the accommodation of the
poorer people. After the wholesale business is over, the country gentry
generally flock in, laying out their money in stage-plays, taverns,
music-houses, toys, puppet-shows, &c., and the whole concludes with a
day for the sale of horses. This fair is under the jurisdiction of the
University of Cambridge.--_Walker's Gazetteer_, ed. 1801. See Index to
Brand's _Antiquities_.


[182] Rot Esch. ejus an, pt. 6.

[183] This lady was one of the daughters and co-heirs of Sir Richard
Walden, of this parish, Knt., and the Lady Margaret his wife, who both
lie buried in this church [of Erith]. He was, as I take it, made Knight
of the Bath in the 17th year of K. Henry VII., his estate being then
certified to be 40_l._ per annum, being the son of Richard Walden, esq.
Sir Richard and Elizabeth his wife both lie buried here. _MSS. Dering._

[184] Dugd. Bar. vol. i. p. 332.

[185] Harman's dedication of his book to her was no doubt written in
1566, and his 2nd edition, in both states, published before the
Countess's death.

[186] Of pilgrims, and of whoremongers, say Brand and Sir H. Ellis
(referring to the _Hist. des Troubadours_, tom. i. p. 11,) in _Brand's
Antiquities_, ed. 1841, i. 202. Chaucer makes him the patron of
hospitality, saying of the Frankeleyn, in the Prologue to the
_Canterbury Tales_, "Seynt Iulian he was in his contre." Mr Hazlitt, in
his new edition of Brand, i. 303, notes that as early as the _Ancren
Riwle_, ab. 1220 A.D., we have 'Surely they (the pilgrims) find St.
Julian's inn, which wayfaring men diligently seek.'


  Abraham men, those who feign madness, 3; one of them, named Stradlynge,
    'the craftiest and moste dyssemblyngest knaue,' 47

  Altham, a curtall's wife, 4

  Arsenick, to make sores with, 44

  associate, accompany, 53

  Autem, a church, 67, 83

  ---- Mortes, description of, 67; as chaste as Harman's 'Cowe,' 67

  Awdeley, Iohn, a printer, 1

  Awdeley's _Vacabondes_; Harman's references to, 20, 60

  Axiltrye, casting of the, 46

  baken, bacon, 3

  baudy banquet, whoring, 63

  bauer, ? band, 52

  Bawd Phisicke, a cook, 14

  Bawdy baskets, description of, 65; a story of one who, with an upright
    man, spoiled a poor beggar of his money, 66

  beggar by inheritance, 42

  belly chere, food, 32

  belly chete, an apron, 83

  benat, better, 86

  bene, good, 83

  bene bowse, good drink, 59

  beneship, very well, 86

  benshyp, very good, 83, 86

  beray, dung, 13; dirty, 52

  beteled, ? (_betelled_ is deceived), 67

  Bethlem Hospital, 52, 53

  Blackheath, 77

  bletinge chete, a calf or sheep, 83

  Blunt, Nicolas, an upright man, 50, 87

  bong, purse, 84, 86

  booget, a bag, 59

  bord, a shilling, 83

  ----, half a, sixpence, 83

  borsholders, 21, _n._, superior constables. See Halliwell's _Glossary_.

  bottell, bundle, truss, 72

  Bottomelye, Besse, a harlot, 75

  bousing ken, an ale-house, 83

  bowle, drink bowls of liquor, 32

  bowse, drink, 32, 83; _v._ to drink, 84

  braste, burst, 73

  Bridewell, 57, 87

  broused, bruised, 29

  bryberinge, stealing, 60

  Buckes, baskets, 21

  Buckingham, Duke of, beheaded, 22

  bufe, a dog, 84

  bung, a purse, 83, 84, 86

  buskill, ? bustle, wriggle, 15

  bychery, 67

  bycherye, whoring, 61

  byd, pray, 15

  byng a waste, go you hence, 84

  cakling chete, a cock, or capon, 83

  can skyl, know, 8

  cante, to speak, 84

  Canting, the language of vagabonds, 23; list of words, 82-4; specimen
    of, 84-6

  Capcases, covers for caps, small bandboxes, 65

  Capon hardy, 12. For 'capron hardy,' 'a notable whipster or twigger,' a
    bold or saucy young scamp. (See the Index to Caxton's _Book of
    Curtesye_, E. E. T. Soc., p. 54.)

  cassan, cheese, 83

  caster, a cloak, 82

  casting of the sledge, 46

  Caueat, a warning, 17

  Chafe litter, the knave, described, 13

  chafer, heating dish, 59

  Charing Cross, 58

  chattes, the gallows, 84, 86

  Chayne, a gentleman, 58

  Cheapside, 57, 87

  Cheatours, card-sharpers enticing young men to their hosteries, win
    their money and depart, 7

  cheeke by cheeke (now 'by jowl'), 12

  chete, animal, 83, col. 2, foot

  chetes, things, 42

  Choplogyke, description of, 15

  Christ, like a thief, 94, 95

  Christes Hospital, 8

  Clapperdogens, 44. _See_ Palliards.

  Clement's Inn, 53

  clocke, a cloak, 55

  clyme three tres with a ladder, to ascend the gallows, 31

  cly the gerke, to be whipped, 84

  Cole, false, 15. (See Mr R. Morris in _Notes and Queries_, Oct., 1869,
    on _Colfox_, &c.)

  Cole Prophet, description of, 15

  commission, a shirt, 83

  Commitour of Tidings, a tell-tale, 14

  common, commune, 45

  conneys, rabbits, 35

  conneyskins, rabbitskins, 65

  connizance, cognizance, 35

  Cornwall, 48

  Cory fauell, a knave, described, 16

  couch a hogshead, lie down and sleep, 77, 84

  Counterfet Crankes, description of, 51; story of one that Harman
    watched, 51; how he was dressed, 51; his refusal to wash when hidden,
    52; gives the name of Genings, 52; said he had been in Bethlehem
    Hospital, 52, which Harman found to be a lie, 53; in the middle of
    the day he goes into the fields and renews the blood on his face, 53;
    what money he received, 53; at night he goes to Newington, where he
    is given in charge, 54; the amount of his gains, 55; his escape, 55;
    his recapture, 56, _n._; his punishment, 57, _n._

  Cousoners, cheaters, 1

  Crashing chetes, teeth, 82

  crassinge chetes, apples, pears, or any other fruit, 84

  Cross Keys Inn in Cranford (Middlesex) or Crayford (Kent), 77

  cuffen, fellow, 86. _See_ Quyer.

  Cursetors, 17; explanation of, 27

  Curtal, 37

  Curtall, one who is next in authority to an upright man, 4

  Curtesy man, described, 6

  cutte, to say, 84

  cutte bene whydds, speak or give good words, 84

  cutte benle, speak gently, 84

  cutte quyre whyddes, give evil words or evil language, 84

  darkemans, night, 84

  Dartford, 58

  David, a thief, 94, 95

  ded lyft, a; last refuge, 34

  Dells, rogues' virgins, described, 75

  Demaunder for glymmar, description of, 61; story of one who behaved
    courteously to one man and uncourteously to another, 61-65

  Deptford, 77

  Desmond, Earl of, 82

  Devil's Pater noster, 15

  Devonshire, 48

  dewse a vyle, the country, 84, 86

  Dialogue, between upright man and rogue, 84-87

  dokte, fornicated with, 87

  Dommerar, description of, 57; of one who was made to speak, and
    afterwards punished on the pillory, 58, 59

  doson, dozen, 34

  Doxes, description of, 4, 6, 73

  Draw-the-pudding-out-of-the-fire; a beggars' inn at Harrow-on-the-Hill,

  drawers, hosen, 83

  Drawlatches, a class of beggars, 27

  Dronken Tinckar, description of, 59

  drouselye, drowsily, 76

  dudes, cloths, 83

  dup the gyger, open the door, 84

  Dyng-thrift, description of, 15

  Egiptians, description of, 23

  Esau, a thief, 94, 95

  Esaye, Isaiah, 24

  Esen Droppers, eaves-droppers, 15

  exonerate, empty (one's belly), 55

  factors, tax-gatherers, 45

  fambles, hands, 82; famble, 87

  fambling chete, ring on the hand, 82

  Faytores, a class of beggars, 27

  ferres, 35, ferries

  Filtchman, the truncheon of a staff, 4

  Fingerers, 7-9. _See_ Cheatours.

  for knowing; against, to prevent, being recognized, 71

  flagg, a groat, 83, 85

  flebytinge, 73

  fletinge Fellowshyp, the company of vagabonds, 24

  Frater, one who goes with a licence to beg for some Spittlehouse or
    Hospital, but who usually robs poor women, 4; description of, 45

  Freshwater Mariner, description of, 48

  Furmenty, 22

  fustian fume, 46

  fylche, to beat, to rob, 84

  fylthy firy flankard, 29

  fynesed, finished, 70

  Fyngerer, 8, 9

  gage, a quart pot, 83

  ---- of bowse, a quart of drink, 34

  gally slopes, breeches, 35

  gan, a mouth, 82

  gealy gealowsit, good fellowship, 55

  gentry cofes ken, a noble or gentleman's house, 83

  gentry morte, a noble or gentlewoman, 84

  Genynges, Nicolas, a counterfeit cranke, 50, 87

  gestes, guests, 61

  Glasyers, eyes, 82

  glimmeringe morte, a woman who travels the country begging, saying her
    goods have been burnt, 61

  glymmar, fire, 61, 83

  grannam, corn, 83

  Grauesend barge, a resort of vagabonds and knaves, 1

  graunt, agree, 53

  greffe, grief, 55

  Grene Winchard, description of a, 14

  _Groundworke of Conny-catching_, 97

  grunting chete, or patricos kynchen, a pig, 83

  Gryffith, Wylliam, a printer, 17

  Gybe, a licence, 4; a writing, 83

  gygger, a door, 83, 85

  Gyle Hather, description of, 14

  gyllot, a whore, 71

  Haben, a witty parson, 92

  hande charcher, handkerchief, 72

  Harman beck, constable, 84

  Harman, Thomas, his _Caveat_, 17-91; epistle to the reader, 27; his old
    tenant, 30; his copper cauldron stolen, 35; recovered, 35; notice to
    tinkers of the loss of his cauldron, 35; his gelding stolen, 44; in
    commission of the peace, 60; paid for beggars' secrets, 74

  Harmans, the stocks, 84

  Harrow-on-the-Hill, inn at, 77

  Hartley Row in Hampshire, 92, 93

  Hearing chetes, ears, 82

  heauing of the bowth, robbing the booth, 4

  Helpers of rogues, 9

  Helycon, 28

  heue a bough, rob a booth, 84

  Hill's, Mr, Rents, 57

  _him_ redundant: leapes him, 43, l. 24

  Hoker, or Angglear, description of, 35; anecdote of one who took the
    clothes of the bed in which 3 men were sleeping, without awaking
    them, 36

  Holborn, 54

  hollowe hosteler, 63

  horse locke, 39

  hosen, breeches, 71, 72

  hosted, lodged, 57, _n._

  hosteries, card-sharpers' resorts, 9

  House of Pity, inn in Northall, 77

  hoyssed, hoisted, 20

  huggeringe, loitering, 43

  Hyberdyne, a parson, 93

  hygh, hie, 33

  hygh pad, highway, 84

  Jacob, a thief, 94, 95

  Iarckeman, a maker of counterfeit licences, 5, 60

  Iarckes, seals, 4

  Iarke, a seal, 83

  ich, I, 8

  Jeffrey Gods Fo, a liar, 13

  Ingratus, an ungrateful knave, 16

  in printe, meaning 'correct,' 45

  Iockam, yard, penis, 87

  iompe, jump, plump, exactly, 44

  Irishe toyle, a beggar, 5

  Irish rogues, 44, 48

  Isleworth (Thystellworth), St Julian's, a beggars' inn at, 77

  Iusticers, Justices, 21

  Karle, a knave, 8

  ken, a house, 83, 84, 86

  Kent, a man of worship in, death of, 22

  Kent, mentioned, 37, 43, 48, 61, 63, 66, 68, 77

  Kent St, Southwark, 57

  Ketbroke, a beggars' inn, near Blackheath, 77

  kinde, nature, 52

  Kitchen Co, a boy, 5, 76

  ---- Morte, a girl, 5, 76

  Knapsbery (inn near London), 77

  Knaues, 25 orders of, 1

  ----, quartern of, 1

  Kynges barne, beggars' inn in Kent, 77

  lage, water, 83

  lag of dudes, a bucke of clothes, 83

  lap, butter, milk, or whey, 83

  lasy Lorrels, 82

  lecherous husband cured, 68-73

  Leicester, 56

  lewed lecherous loyteringe, 31

  lewtering Luskes, 82

  licoryce knaue, a drunkard, 13

  lightmans, day, 84

  (Lincoln's Inn) Fields, 53

  London, 30, 42, 49

  lousey leuterars, vagabonds, 22

  lowhinge chete, a cow, 83

  lowre, money, 83, 85, 86

  Lubbares, lubbers, 47

  luckly, lucky, 19

  Ludgate, 57

  lybbege, a bed, 83

  lybbet, a stick, 26

  lykinge, lustful, 21

  Lynx eyes, 54. (See Index to Hampole's _Pricke of Conscience_.)

  Lypken, a house to lie in, 83

  make, halfpenny, 83

  make (think) it strange, 41

  makes, mates, 23

  mammerings, mumblings, 72

  manerly marian, 62

  margery prater, a hen, 83

  Mariner, one at Portsmouth the maker of counterfeit licences for
    Freshwater mariners, 49

  matche of wrastlinge, 46

  maunde, ask or require, 84, 85

  Messenger, Ione, an honest bawdy basket, 65

  Milling of the ken, sending children into houses to rob, 67

  mofling chete, a napkin, 83

  mounched, eat, 72

  mounch-present, one who, being sent by his master with a present, must
    taste of it himself, 14

  myll a ken, rob a house, 84

  mynt, gold, 83

  Nab, a head, 82, 86

  Nabchet, a hat or cap, 82

  nase, drunken, 86

  Newhaven, 67

  Newington, 54, 56

  Nichol Hartles, a coward, 13

  Northall, beggars' inn at, 77

  nosegent, a nun, 83

  nouels, news, 14

  Nunquam, a loitering servant, 16

  nygle, haue to do with a woman carnally, 84

  nyp a boung, to cut a purse, 84

  Obloquium, a malapert knave, 13

  occupying, holding of land, 38

  of, off, 39

  oysters of East Kent, 68

  Palliards, description of, 4, 44; doings of, 44; list of names of, 81,

  pannam, bread, 83

  Param, milk, 83, _n._

  patrico, a priest, 6, 60

  paulmistrie, fortune-telling, 23

  pecke, meat, 86

  peddelars Frenche. _See_ Canting.

  pek, meat, 83

  peld pate, head uncovered, 34

  pelte, clothes, 76

  peltinge, ? paltry, contemptible, 20

  Penner, a pen-case, 54

  pens, pence, 55

  pickthanke knaue, 14

  pillory in Cheapside, 57

  pitching of the barre, 46

  pity: it pytied him at the hart, 41

  poppelars, porridge, 83

  porte sale, ? quick sale, 77

  Portsmouth, 49

  Poules, St Paul's, 8

  prat, a buttocke, 82

  prating knaue, 15

  pratling chete, a tongue, 82

  prauncer, a horse, 83

  Prigger of Paulfreys, a stealer of horses, 4

  Proctour, a liar, 14; keeper of a spittlehouse, 45

    although Truth be blamed, it shall never be shamed, 28
    as the begger knowes his dishe, 32
    don't wake the sleeping dog, 73
    God hath done his part, 48
    out of sight, out of minde, 32
    swete meate wyll haue sowre sawce, 72

  prygge, to ride, 84

  Prygger of Prauncers, description of, 42; a story of a gentleman who
    lost his horse by giving it in charge for a short time to a
    'priggar,' 43

  Prygges, tinkers, 59

  Prygman, one who steals clothes off hedges, and a robber of poultry, 3

  quakinge chete, or red shanke, a drake or duck, 83

  quaromes, a body, 82

  Queen Elizabeth, 21

  quier, nought, 83

  Quier crampringes, bolts or fetters, 84, 86

  Quire bird, one lately come out of prison, 4

  quyer cuffyn, justice of the peace, 84, 86

  Quyerkyn, prison house, 84, 86

  rabblement, 19

  rakehelles, 19

  Ratsbane, 44

  rechles, reckless, 15

  rifflinge, 32

  Rince pytcher, a drunkard, 13

  Ring chopper, description of, 11

  ---- faller, description of, 10

  Robardesmen, robbers, 27. See William of Nassington's description of
    them quoted in _Notes & Queries_ by F. J. F. 1869; and _The Vision
    of Piers Plowman_, ed. Wright, ii. 506, 521.

  Robin goodfelow, 36

  Rochester, 66

  Rogeman, a receiver of stolen clothes, 3

  Roger, or tyb of the buttery, a goose, 83

  Roges, description of, 36; subject to beastly diseases, 37; list of
    names of, 80, 81

  Rogues, a story of two, who made the acquaintance of a parson at an
    ale-house, and afterwards went to his house and robbed him, 37

  Rome bouse, wine, 83

  Rome mort, the Queen, 84

  Rome vyle, London, 84

  Rothered in Kent, 77

  rowsey, ? rough, or frowzy, 19

  Royal Exchange, 8

  roylynge, travelling, 31

  ruffe, rough, 33

  Ruffeler, a robber of 'wayfaring men and market women,' 3, 29; a story
    of one who robbed an old man, a tenant of Harman's, on Blackheath, 30

  ruffian cly the, devil take thee, 84

  ruffian, to the, 84, to the devil

  ruffmans, woods or bushes, 84

  ruff pek, bacon, 83

  ruysting, roystering, 32

  Salomon, an altar, or mass, 83

  sawght, sought, 62

  Saynt Augustyn, 24

  scelorous, wicked, 20

  sewerly, surely, 50

  Shifters, 1

  shotars hyl, Shooter's Hill, 30

  Shreeues, sheriffs, 21

  Shrewd turne, ? sharp handling, hard usage, 15

  Shrewsbury, Elizabeth Countess of, Harman's dedication to, 19

  shrodge, shrugged, hugged, 71

  Simon soone agon, a loitering knave, 13

  skew, a cup, 83

  Skoller, a waterman (and his boat), 54

  skower the cramprings, wear bolts or fetters, 84

  skypper, a barn, 83

  slates, sheets to lie in, 61, 76, 77, 83

  small breefe, old briefe of vacabonds, meaning Awdeley's book, 20

  smell feastes, 46

  smelling chete, a nose, 82; a garden or orchard, 84

  snowte fayre, fair-faced, 61

  sod, boiled, 22

  Somersetshire, 61

  soup, chewed, to produce foaming at the mouth, 51

  Spanlles, spaniel-dogs, 33

  Spearwort, 44

  Spice-cakes, 12

  spitlehouse, 45; row in a, 45; the constable wants to take in custody
    the roysterers, 46; the good wife of the house intreats him for her
    guests, and while so doing the next door neighbours enter the
    kitchen, and steal the supper that she was preparing, 46

  squaymysh, squeamish, 55

  St. George's Fields, 54

  St. Giles's in the Fields, 54

  St. Julian's (inn in Thystellworth; Isleworth), 77

  St. Quinten's (inn near London), 77

  St. Tybbe's (inn near London), 77

  stall, to make or ordain, 84

  stalling to the rogue, ceremony of, 34

  stampers, shoes, 83

  stampes, legs, 82

  Statutes, i. Edw. VI. c. iii, p. 20, _n._; xxvii. Hen. VIII. for
    punishment of vagabonds, 29

  staulinge ken, a house that will receive stolen wares, 32, 83

  stibber gibber knaue, a liar, 14

  stow you, hold your peace, 84

  Stradlynge, an Abraham man, 47

  strommell, straw, 83

  Sturton, Lord, 48

  summer-games, 47

  surgeon, who strung up the dumb rogue, 58-9

  Swadders and Pedlers, description of, 60

  Swygman, a pedlar, 5

  tempering, tampering, 70

  Temple Bar, 53

  'Thank God of all,' 67 (cp. Shakspere's 'Thank God you are rid of a
    knave.' _Much Ado_, iii. 3.)

  the, thee, 55

  Thieves, a sermon in praise of, 92

  'Three trees,' the gallows, 31

  tickle in the ear, gammon, 9

  Tinkard, a beggar, 5

  tiplinge[house], an ale-house, 40

  tittiuell knaue, a tale-bearer, 15

  togeman, a coat, 77, 82

  tortylles, turtle-doves, lovers, 62

  towre, see, 84, 85

  trashe, goods, 77

  trininge, hanging, the end of roges, 37, 84

  Troll and troll by, a knave, described, 12

  Troll Hazard of Trace, a knave, 12

  Troll Hazard of tritrace, a knave, 13

  Troll with, a knave, 12

  Truth, proverb as to, 28

  tryninge, hanging, 84

  twin'd hempe, rope and gallows, 29 (cp. Bulleyn in _The Babees Book_, p.

  _Two Gent. of Verona_, 45

  Tynckars, Harman sends notice of the stealing of his cauldron to the, 35

  typ, secret, 20

  typlinge houses, alehouses, 24

  Vacabonde--one being caught, and brought before the justices of the
    peace, promised to tell them the names and degrees of his fellows,
    on condition that he escaped punishment, which being granted, he
    fulfilled his promise, and Awdeley obtained the materials for his
    book, 2

  Vacabondes, beggerly, 1; ruflyng, 1; 'the old briefe' of, 60

  Vagabondes, their vsage in the night, 76

  Vagabonds, account of the doings of, at the funeral of a man of worship
    in Kent, 22

  vagarantes, 19

  Vngracious, a man who will not work, 15

  Vnthrift, a reckless knave, 15

  vntrus, to undress, 72

  Vpright man, description of, 1, 4, 31

  Vpright men, list of the names of, 78, 79, 80

  Vrmond, Earle of, 82

  walkinge mortes, description of, 67; a story of a trick that one played
    on a man who would have had to do with her, and the punishment he
    received instead, 67-73

  wannion, a curse, 62

  wappinge, fornicating, 87

  Washman, one who shams lameness, sickness, etc., 5

  waste, bynge a; go hence, 84, 86

  watch, the constable, 45

  watche, person, 61; our watche, us, 86

  Welsh rogues, 44, 57

  Whistle, anecdote of the, 61-5

  Whipiacke, a robber of booths and stalls, 4

  Whitefriars, 51, 56

  whydds, words, 84, 86

  whystell, whistle, 62

  whyte money, silver, 42

  wilde roge, description of, 41; story of one robbing a man, of whom he
    had just begged, 42

  wilde roge's reason for being a beggar, 42

  windless, out of breath, 73

  windshaken knaue, 66

  woode, mad, 14

  Wostestowe, a servant of the Lord Keeper's, 58

  wyld Dell, description of, 75

  wyn, a penny, 83

  yannam, bread, 83, _n._

  yaram, milk, 83

  yemen, yeomen, 22

  ynkell, tape, 65

_Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, London and Bungay._

Errata List:

  n. 1: "Wiemarisches Jahrbuch" should be "Weimarisches Jahrbuch."

  p. xix: "to be rosolued" should be "to be resolued."

  p. xxi: "under theee titles" should be "under these titles."

  p. 7: "The Groundworke of Conny-catching": this page should be numbered
  p. 97, in consistency with the Table of contents and the Index. The
  original number has been retained.

  p. 12: "Troll and Trol" should be "Troll and Troll."

  p. 47: "These Abrahom men" should be "These Abraham men."

  p. 66: "sayth she vnto vnto her make" should be "sayth she vnto her

  p. 91: "Anno Domni. 1567." should be "Anno Domini. 1567."

  p. 105: "_An Acte concernyny Egypsyans_." should be "_An Acte
  concernyng Egypsyans_."

  p. 107: "on the mordern Ordnance-map" should be "on the modern

  In the Index, page number 17 corresponds to page 2 of the book. The
  original number has been retained:

   "Caueat, a warning, 17" should be "Caueat, a warning, 2"

   "Cursetors, 17; explanation of, 27" should be "Cursetors, 2;
   explanation of, 27"

   "Gryffith, Wylliam, a printer, 17" should be "Gryffith, Wylliam, a
   printer, 2"

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Rogues and Vagabonds of Shakespeare's Youth - Awdeley's 'Fraternitye of vacabondes' and Harman's 'Caveat'" ***

Copyright 2023 LibraryBlog. All rights reserved.