[259] It is just possible that this individual may be identical with the "John Reynolde" mentioned in the subjoined extract from the Privy Purse Expenses of Elizabeth of York, under date of December, 1502:—

"Itm the xvth day of Decembre, to John Reynolde for money by him payed to a man that broke a yong hors of the Quenes at Mortymer by the space of v wekes, every weke iis. sm. xs."



+ Of the yonge man of Bruges, and his spouse. lxxiii.

+ A yonge man of Bruges, that was betrouthed to a fayre mayden, came on a tyme, whan her mother was out of the way, and had to do with her. Whan her mother was come in, anone she perceyued by her doughters chere, what she had done; wherfore she was so sore displesed, that she sewed a diuorse, and wolde in no wyse suffre that the yonge man shulde marye her daughter.

Nat longe after, the same yonge man was maryed to an other mayden of the same parysshe: and as he and his wyfe satte talkynge on a tyme of the forsayde dammusell, to whome he was betrouthed, he fell in a nyce[261] laughyng. Whereat laugh ye? quod his wyfe. It chaunced on a tyme (quod he), that she and I dydde suche a thyng to gether, and she tolde hit to her mother. Therin (quod his wyfe) she playde the foole: a seruante of my fathers playde that game with me an hundred tymes, and yet I neuer tolde my mother. Whan he herde her saye so, he lefte his nyce laughynge.

FOOTNOTES:

[260] Orig. reads as.



+ Of hym that made as he hadde ben a chaste lyuer. lxxiiii.

+ A felowe, that toke vpon him, as he had ben the moste chaste and beste disposed man lyuinge, was by one of his felowes on a tyme taken in aduoutry,[262] and sharpely rebuked for it, bycause he prated so moche of chastite, and yet was taken in the same faute. To whome he answerde againe: O fool, doste thou thinke that I did it for bodely pleasure? No! no! I dyd it but onely to subdue my flesshe, and to purge my reynes.

Wherby ye may perceyue, that of all other dissemblynge hipocrytes are the worste.

FOOTNOTES:

[261] Foolish. Used in this sense by Chaucer and Shakespeare. See the last edit, of Nares in voce.

[262] I have already explained this word to signify adultery. The latter form appears to have been little used by old writers (though it occurs in the Rule of Reason, 1551, 8vo. by Thomas Wilson). Thus in Paynel's translation of Erasmus De Contemptu Mundi,1533, fol. 16, we find—"Richesse engendre and brynge forth inceste and advoutry."

"Hobs. Mass, they say King Henry is a very advoutry man.

"King. A devout man? And what King Edward?"—

Heywood's Edward IV. Part I. 1600.



+ Of hym that the olde roode fell on. lxxv.

+ As a man kneled vpon a tyme prayenge before an olde rode, the rode felle downe on him and brak his hede; wherfore he wolde come no more in the churche halfe a yere after. At lengthe, by the prouocation of his nighbours, he cam to the churche agayne; and bycause he sawe his nighbours knele before the same rode, he kneled downe lyke wyse and sayde thus: well, I may cappe and knele to the; but thou shake neuer haue myn harte agayne, as long as I lyue.

By which tale appereth, that by gentyll and courteyse entreatinge mens myndes ben obteyned.[263] For though the people cappe and knele to one in highe authorite, yet lyttell whoteth he, what they thynke.

FOOTNOTES:

[263] Orig. and Singer read opteyned.



+ Of the wydow that wolde nat wedde for bodily pleasure. lxxvi.

+ There was a ryche wydowe, whiche desyredde a gossyp of hers, that she wold get her an husband: nat for the nyce playe, quod she, but to th' entente he may kepe my goodes to gether, whiche is an harde thinge for me to do, beynge a lone woman. Her gossyp, whiche vnderstode her conceyte, promysed her so to do. Aboute iii or iiii dayes after, she came to her agayne, and sayde: gossyp, I haue founde an husbande for you, that is a prudente, a ware, and a worldlye[264] wyse man, but he lacketh his priuey members, wherof ye force nat. Go to the dyuell with that husbande (quod the wydowe): for though that I desyre nat the nyce playe: yet I wylle that myne husbande shall haue that, where with we may be reconciled, if we falle at variance.



+ Of the couetous ambassodour, that wolde here no musike. lxxvii.

+ Whan a couetous man on a time was come vnto a certain cite, whither he was sent as ambassadour for his contrey, anon the mynstrels of the cite came to him to fil his eares with swete din, to th' intente he shuld fyl their purses with money. But he, perceyunge that, bad one of his seruauntes go and telle them, that he coulde nat than intende[265] to here their musicke, but he muste demene great sorow, for his mother was deed. So the minstrels, disapointed of theyr purpose, all sadlye went theyr waye. And whan a worshipfull man of the cite, that was his frende, herd tell of his mourning, he came to visete and comforte him; and so in talkynge together he asked, howe longe a go it was that his mother deceased? Truelye (quod he), hit is xl yere ago. Than his frende, vnderstandyinge his subtilte, beganne to laughe hartely.

This tale is aplyed to the couetous men, whiche by al crafte and meanes study to kepe and encreace theyr money and substance; agaynst whiche vyce many thinges ben wryten. As farre (sayth one) is that frome a couetous man that he hath, as that he hath nat.[266] And Diogenes calleth couetousnes the heed of all yuels, and saynt Hieronyme calleth couetousnes the rote of all yuels. And for an example, the tale folowinge shall be of couetousnes.

FOOTNOTES:

[264] Orig. and Singer read wordlye.

[265] Give attention.

[266] "The covetous man is servaunt and nat mayster vnto riches: and the waster will nat longe be mayster therof. The one is possessed and doth nat possesse; and the other within a shorte whyle leueth the possession of riches."—Erasmus De Contemptu Mundi, 1533, fol. 17 (Paynel's translation). So also, in the Rule of Reason, 1551, 8vo, Wilson says:—"Is a covetous man poore or not? I may thus reason with my self. Why should a couetous man be called poore, what affinitie is betwixt them twoo? Marie, in this poynct thei bothe agree, that like as the poore man ever lacketh and desireth to have, so the covetous manne ever lacketh, wantyng the use of that whiche he hath, and desireth styl to have." "To a covetous ma he (Pythagoras) sayde:—"O fole, thy ryches are lost upon the, and are very pouertie."—Baldwin's Treatise of Morall Phylosophie, 1547.



+ How Denise the tirant serued a couetous man. lxxix.

+ It was shewed to Denise the tyran, that a couetous man of the cite had hyd a great some of money in the grounde, and lyued moste wretchedly: wherfore he sente for the man, and commaunded him to go dyg vp the money, and so to deliuer it vnto him. The man obeyed, and delyuered vnto the tyran all the golde and treasure that he hadde, saue a small some, that he priuelye kept a syde: where with he wente in to an other cite, and forsoke Syracuse: and there bought a lytell lande, where vpon he lyued. Whan the tyran vnderstode that he hadde so done, he sent for him agayne; and whan he was come, the tyran sayde to him: syth thou haste lerned nowe to vse well thy goodes, and nat to kepe them vnprofytably, I wyll restore them all to the agayne. And so he dyd.



+ Of the olde man, that quengered[267] the boy oute of the apletree with stones. lxxx.

+ As an olde man walked on a tyme in his orcherd he loked vp, and sawe a boye sytte in a tree, stealynge his apples; whom he entreated with fayre wordes to come downe, and let his apples alone. And whan the olde man sawe, that the boye cared nat for him, by cause of his age, and set noughte by his wordes, he sayde: I haue harde saye, that nat onlye in wordes, but also in herbes, shulde be greatte vertue. Wherfore he plucked vp herbes, and beganne to throwe them at the boye, wherat the boye laughed hartelye, and thought that the olde man hadde ben mad, to thynke to driue him out of the tree with casting of herbes. Than the olde man sayde: well, seynge that nother wordes nor herbes haue no vertue agaynste the stealer of my goodes, I wylle proue what stones wylle do, in whiche, I haue harde men saye, is great vertue; and so he gathered his lappe full of stones, and threwe them at the boye, and compelled hym to come downe, and renne awaye.

This tale sheweth, that they, that bene wyse, proue many wayes, before they arme them.

FOOTNOTES:

[267] Conjured.



+ Of the ryche man that wolde not haue a glyster. lxxxi.

+ There was a certayn riche man on a tyme, whiche felle sycke, to the whose curynge came many phisitians (for flyes by heapes flee to honye). Amonge them all there was one that sayde, that he muste nedes take a glyster, if he wolde be holle. Whan the sicke man, that was nat envred with that medicine, harde hym saye so, he sayde in a great furye: out a dores with those phisitians! they be madde: for, where as my payne is in my heed, they wolde heale me in myne * * * *.

This fable sheweth that holsom thynges to them, that lacke knowlege and experyence, seme hurtfull.



+ Of hym that feyned hym selfe deed to proue what his wyfe wolde do. lxxxii.

+ A yonge married man on a time, to proue, to here and to se what his wyfe wolde do, if he were deed, came in to his house, whyle his wyfe was forthe wasshynge of clothes, and layd him downe in the floore, as he had ben deed. Whan his wyfe came in, and sawe him lye so, she thought he had ben deed in dede; wherfore she stode euen stylle, and deuysed with her selfe whether was better to bewayle his dethe forth with, or els to dyne fyrste; for she had eate of nomeate[268] all the day. All other thinges consydered, she determined to dyne fyrste. So she cut a coloppe of baken, and broyled it on the coles, and began to eate theron a pace; she was so hungrye, that she toke no hede of drynke. At laste, the saltenes of the meate made her to thyrste so sore, that she muste nedes drynke. So, as she toke the potte in her hande, and was goyng downe into her seller to drawe drynke, sodaynely came one of her neyghbours for a cole o' fyre.[269] Wherfore she stepped backe quickely, and though she was right thyrsty, yet she sette the potte a syde; and as [if] her husbande had than fallen downe deed, she beganne to wepe, and with many lamentable wordes to bewayle his dethe; which wepynge and walyng and sodaine dethe of her husbande caused all the neyghbours to come thyther. The man laye stylle in the floore, and so helde his brethe, and closed his eies, that he semed for certayne to be deade. At laste, whanne he thought he had made pastyme inough, and herynge his wyfe saye thus: alas! dere husbande, what shall I do nowe? he loked vp and sayde: full yll, my swete wyfe, excepte ye go quyckely and drynke; wherwith they al from wepyng tourned to laughynge, specially whan they vnderstode the matter and the cause of her thyrste.

Wherby ye may se, that nat without a good skyl the poet sayde:

Ut flerent oculos erudiere suos.

FOOTNOTES:

[268] Orig. reads no meat of.

[269] Orig. reads a fire.



+ Of the poure man, into whose house theues brake by nyghte.[270] lxxxiii.

+ There was a poore man on a tyme, the whiche vnto theues, that brake into his house on nyght, he sayde on this wyse: syrs, I maruayle, that ye thynke to fynde any thyng here by nyght: for I ensure you I can fynd nothing, whan it is brode day.

By this tale appereth playnly That pouerte is a welthy mysery.



+ Of hym that shulde haue ben hanged for his scoffynge. lxxxiiii.

+ There was a mery felowe in hygh Almayn, the whiche, with his scoffynge and iestynge, had so moche displeased a great lorde of the countreye, that he thretned to hange hym, if euer he coude take hym in his countrey. Nat longe after, this lordes seruauntes toke hym, and hanged he shulde be. Whanne he sawe there was no remedy but that he shulde dye, he sayde: my lorde, I muste nedes suffre dethe, whiche I knowe I haue wel deserued. But yet I beseke you graunte me one peticion for my soule[s] helthe. The lorde, at the instaunce of the people that stode aboute, so it dydde not concerne his lyfe, was contente to graunte it hym. Than the felowe sayde: I desyre you, my lorde, that after I am hanged, to come iii mornynges, fresshe and fastynge, and kysse me on the bare ****. Where vnto the lorde answered: the deuyll kysse thyne ****: and so let hym go.

FOOTNOTES:

[270] This tale, which is a very old one, is also found in Jests to Make You Merie, by T[homas] D[ekker] and George Wilkins, Lond. 1607, 4to. and in the Philosophers Banquet, 1614, 3vo.



+ Of hym that had his goose stole. lxxxv.

+ A man, that had a goose stoole from hym, went and complayned to the curate, and desyred hym to do so moche as helpe, that he had his goose again. The curate sayde he wolde. So on Sonday the curate, as though he wolde curse, wente vp in to the pulpit, and bade euery body syt downe. So, whan they were set, he said: why sit ye nat downe? We be set all redy, quod they. Naye (quod the curate) he that dyd stele the goose sitteth nat. Yes, that I do, quod he. Sayste thou that, quod the curate? I charge the, on peyne of cursing, to bryng the goose home ageyn.



+ Of the begger that sayd he was kyn to kyng Philip of Macedone. lxxxvi.

+ There came a begger to kyng Philip of Macedone on a tyme, and prayde the kyng to gyue hym some what; and farther he sayde he was his kynse man. And whan the kyng asked hym which way, he answered and sayde howe they came bothe of Adam. Than the kynge commanded to gyue hym an almes. Whan the begger sawe it was but a small pece of moneye, he sayde, that was nat a semely gyfte for a kynge. The kynge answered: if I shuld gyue euery manne so moche, that is my kynse manne lyke as thou arte, I shulde leaue nothynge for my selfe.[271]



+ Of Dantes answere to the iester. lxxxvii.

+ Dantes the poete dwelled a whyle with Can, the Prince de la Scale,[272] with whome also dwelled an other Florentyne, that hadde neyther lernynge nor prudence, and was a man mete for nothynge but to scoffe and ieste; but yet with his mery toyes, he so moued the sayd Can, that he dydde greatly enryche hym. And, bycause Dantes dispised his foolysshenes, this scoffer sayd to hym: how cometh it, Dantes, that thou art helde[273] so wyse and so well lerned, and yet arte poore and nedy? I am an vnlerned man and am an ignorant fole, and yet I am farre richer than thou art. To whom Dantes answered: if I may fynde a lord lyke and conformable to my maners, as thou hast founde to thyn, he wyll lyke wyse make me ryche.

FOOTNOTES:

[271] In Chevraeana, premiere partie, Paris, 1697, 8vo. p. 119, this story is altered to suit the Emperor Maximilian I.

[272] See Balbo, Vita di Dante, edit. 1853. Can de la Scala, mentioned in the text, was one of the sons of Alberto de la Scala, Lord of Verona, and was born in 1292. Some account of Alberto de la Scala may be found in my Venetian History.

The anecdote related here probably refers to the earlier period of Dante's acquaintance with the prince, about A. D. 1318-20. Balbo does not seem to have thought this story worthy of notice, though he furnishes one or two other examples of the poet's powers of retort. See also Cinthio's Hecatommithi, Deca Settima, Novella settima, edit. 1608.



+ Of hym that had sore eyes.[274] lxxxviii.

+ One, that had sore eies, was warned of the phisitian, that he shulde in any wyse forbeare drinking or els lose his eies: to whom he sayd: it is more pleasure for me to lose myne eies with drinkynge, than to kepe them for wormes to eate them oute.

By this tale ye may perceyue, that it auayleth nat to warne some for theyr own profytte.

FOOTNOTES:

[273] Orig. reads holde.

[274]

"On Sore Eyes.

Fuscus was councell'd if he would preserve His eyes in perfect sight, drinking to swerve; But he reply'd, 'tis better that I shu'd Loose the, then keep them for the worms as food."

Wits Recreations, 1640 (p. 35 of reprint 1817).



+ Of the olde woman that had sore eyes. lxxxix.

+ There was an olde woman, the whiche bargayned with a surgean to heale her sore eyes; and whanne he hadde made her eies hole, and that she sawe better, she couenaunted that he shulde be payde his moneye, and not before. So he layde a medycyne to her eyes, that shulde not be taken awaye the space of v dayes, in whiche tyme she myghte nat loke vppe. Euery daye, whan he came to dresse her, he bare awaye some what of her householde stouffe, table clothes, candelstickes and disshes. He lefte no thinge, that he coulde carye clene. So whan her eies were hole, she loked vp, and sawe that her householde stouffe was caryede awaye. She sayde to the surgian, that came and required his money for his labour: syr, my promise was to pay you, whan ye made me se better than I did before. That is trouth, quod he. Mary, quod she, but I se worse nowe than I did. Before ye layde medicins to myn eies, I sawe moche fayre stouffe in myn house, and now I se nothinge at all.



+ Of hym that had the custodi of a warde. xc.

+ A certayn man, that had the custody of a ward and his goodes, and in shorte space had spente all awaye, was by the gouernour of the cite commanded to bring in his bookes of Introitus et exitus, that is to saye, of entraunce and layenge oute, and to gyue accompte of the orphlins[275] goodes. So whan he came, he shewed fyrste his mouthe, and sayde, here it wente in: and after he shewed vp his ****, and sayde: here hit wente out, and other bookes of Introitus et exitus I haue none.



+ Of the excellent paynter, that had foule children. xci.

+ There was a peinter in Rome that was an excellent counnynge man, and bycause he had foule children, one sayde to him: by my feyth, I maruayle that you paynte so goodelye, and gette so foule chyldren. Yea, quod the peynter, I make my chyldren in the darke, and I peynte those fygures by daye lyght.[276]

[275] See the new edition of Nares in voce. Orphlin is merely a contraction of the French orphelin.

[276]

"A Skilfull Painter such rare pictures drew, That every man his workemanship admir'd:



So neere the life in beautie, forme and hew, As if dead Art 'gainst Nature had conspir'd. Painter, sayes one, thy wife's a pretty woman, I muse such ill-shapt children thou hast got, Yet mak'st such pictures as their likes makes no man, I prethee tell the cause of this thy lot? Quoth he, I paint by day when it is light, And get my children in the darke at night."—

Taylor's Sculler, 1612 (Works, 1630, iii. 22).



+ Of the scoffer that made a man a south sayer. xcii.

+ There was a mery scoffynge felowe on a tyme, the whiche toke on him to teach a man to be a south sayer. Whan they were agreedde, what he shuld haue for his labour, the scoffer sayde to the man: holde! eate this rounde pellet, and I warant thou shalte be a south sayer. The man toke and put it in his mouth, and began to champe theron, but hit sauered so ill, that he spyt it out forth with, and said: phy! this pellet, that thou gyueste me to eate, sauereth all of a *****: Thou sayst trouth (quod the scoffer), nowe thou arte a south sayer; and therefore paye me my money.[277]



+ Of the marchaunt of Florence called Charles. xciii.

+ A marchaunt of Florence, called Charles, came frome Auignone to Rome; and as he sate at souper with a great company, one asked him how the Florentins at Auignone fared? He sayde they were merye and gladde: for they that dwelle there a yere (quod he) be as men that were franticke and out of theyr myndes. Than an other, that sate at souper with them, asked this Charles, how longe he had dwelled there. He answerde: vi monethes. Charles (quod he that asked him the question), thou haste a great wytte: for hit, that other be about xii monethes, thou hast fulfylled in halfe a yere.

FOOTNOTES:

[277] See Scoggin's Jests, p. 28 (edit. 1796).



+ Of the chesshire man called Eulyn. xciiii.

+ Ther dwelled a man in Chesshyre called Eulyn, whiche vsed to go to the towne many tymes; and there he wolde sytte drynkyng tyl xii of the clocke at nyghte, and than go home. So on a tyme he caryed a lyttell boye his sonne on his shulder with him, and whan the chylde fell a slepe about ix of the clocke, the ale wyfe brought him to bed with her chyldren. At mydnyghte Eulyn wente home, and thought no more of his chylde. As sone as he came home, his wyfe asked for her chyld. Whan she spake of the chylde, he loked on his shulder; and whan he sawe he was not ther, he said he wist nat where he was. Out vpon the, horson (quod she), thou hast let mi child fal in to the water (for he passed ouer the water of Dee at a brige). Thou list,[278] hore (quod he): for if he had fallen into the water, I shuld haue hard him plump.



+ Of him that desired to be set vpon the pillori. xcv.

+ There were iii loytteringe felowes fell in companye on a tyme, the whiche wente so longe to gether tylle all theyr money was spente. Whan their money was gone, one of them sayd: what shal we do now? By my faith (quod an other), if I might come where preace of people were, I coulde get moneye inough for vs. And I (quod the iii) can assemble people to gether lyghtly. So whan they came in to a lyttelle towne, where a newe pillory was sette vp, he, that sayde he coude lyghtly assemble people to gether, went to the bayly of the towne whiche was a boucher, and desyred him, that he wolde gyue him leaue to haue the maidenheed of the pyllory. Whiche requeste at the fyrste abasshed the bayllye: for he wyst not what he mente therby; wherfore he toke counsayle of his neighbours, what was best to do, and they bade him set vp the knaue, and spare nat. So whan he was on the pillorye, he loked aboute, and sawe his ii felowes busy in the holes of the bouchers aprons, where thei vsed to put theyr money. Than he said: ther now, go to a pace. The people gaped vp styll and laughed; and whan he saw that his felowes had sped their maters, and were going away, he said to the peple: now turne the pilori ones about, and than I wyl com downe. So they laughing hartily did. Whan the felow was com downe from the pyllory, the baylie sayde to hym: by my faythe, thou arte a good felowe, and by cause thou haste made vs so good sporte, holde I wyll gyue the a grote to drynke, and so putte his hande in the hole of his apron. But there he founde neuer a penye. Cockes[279] armes! (quod the bayllye) my pourse is pycked, and my moneye is gone. Syr (quod the felowe), I truste ye wyll beare me recorde, that I haue hit nat. No, by the masse, quod he, thou were on the pyllorie the whyle. Than, no force, quod the felow, and wente his waye.

FOOTNOTES:

[278] Liest.

[279] (?) God's alms. Browne calls this a dunghill oath:—

"With that the Miller laughing brush'd his cloathes, Then swore by Cocke and other dung-hill oathes."

Britannias Pastorals, lib. i. p. 100 (ed. 1625).

It is very commonly found in the early dramatists, and long before the statute of James the First, By cock and similar phrases were used, in order to evade the charge of profaning the name of the Deity. It is of particularly frequent occurrence in Skelton's Magnyfycence:—

"Cr[afty] Con[veyance]. Cockes armes, thou shalt kepe the brewhouse boule.

Fol[ye]. But may I drynke thereof whylest that I stare?"

Magnyfycence (Skelton's Works, ed. Dyce, i. 268).

But this writer seems to have employed it rather fantastically than from any desire to soften the oath; for elsewhere in the same piece we find By God, Goddes fote, &c. The practice of swearing had grown to such a pitch in the time of Taylor the Water-Poet, that that writer says (Against Cursing and Swearing, Works, 1630, i. 50):—"If the penalty of twelve pence for every oath had been duly paid (as the statute hath in that case provided) I doe verily beleeve that all the coyned money in England would have been forfeited that way." Whitford, in his Werke for Housholders, first printed about 1528 (edit. 1533, sign. c. ii et seqq.), relates several remarkable judgments as having fallen, within his personal knowledge, on profane swearers, who were as plentiful and as reckless in the time of Henry VIII. as they were a century later.



+ Of the wydowes daughter that was sent to the abbot with a couple of capons. xcvi.

+ There was an abbot that had a wydowe to his tenant, which wydow on a tyme sent her doughter with a couple of capons to the abbotte. And whan the mayden came with her present, she founde the abbot syttyng at dyner, to whom she sayd: moch good dutte[280] the, my lorde! Ha! welcome, mayden, quod he. My lorde (quod she), my mother hath sent the here a couple of capons. God a mercy,[281] mayden, quod he. And so he made her to be sette downe atte his owne table to eate some meate. Amonge other meates, the abbotte had than a grene goose with sorell sauce, wherof he dyd eate. So one, that sat at the abbottes tables, gaue the rompe of the goose to the mayde to picke theron. She toke the rompe in her hande, and bycause she sawe the abbot and other wete their meate in the sorell sauce, she sayde: my lorde, I pray the gyue me leue to wete myn rompe in thy grene sauce.

FOOTNOTES:

[280] Do it.



+ Of the two men, that dranke a pynte of whyte wyne to gether. xcvii.

+ There came two homely men of the countreye in to a tauerne on a tyme to drinke a pynte of wine. So they satte stylle, and wyste not what wyne to calle for. At last, herynge euerye man call for white wyne as clere as water of the rocke, they bad the drawer brynge them a pynte of whyte wyne as clere as water of the rocke. The drawer, seyng and perceyuyng by their wordes that they were but blont felowes, he brought them a pinte of clere water. The one of them fylled the cuppe, and dranke to his felow, and sayd: holde, neighbour, by masse, chadde[282] as lefe drynke water, saue only for the name of wyne.[283]

FOOTNOTES:

[281] God thank you.

[282] i.e. I had.

[283] The beverage of which these persons are here supposed to partake was probably what, in Charles the First's time, was called white wine; which, if diluted, as was no doubt very commonly done, would present a very watery aspect. A very curious account of the wines in vogue during the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. is given by Taylor the Water-Poet in his Praise of Hempseed. Cartwright, in his Ordinary, has the following passage, describing the various sorts of wine used in his day:—

"Hearsay. Thou hast forgotten Wine, Lieutenant, wine.

Slicer. Then to avoid the grosse absurdity Of a dry Battel, 'cause there must some bloud Be spilt (on th' enemies side, I mean) you may Have there a Rundlet of brisk Claret, and As much of Aligant, the same quantitie Of Tent would not be wanting, 'tis a wine Most like to bloud. Some shall bleed fainter colours, As Sack, and white wine. Some that have the itch (As there are Taylors still in every Army) Shall run with Renish, that hath Brimstone in't."

Aligant mentioned in this extract was the wine grown in Alicante, a province of the ancient Kingdom of Valencia. Sometimes it was spelled Aligaunt or Aligaunte:—

"Pseud. In Ganges Iles I thirty rivers saw Fill'd with sweet nectar.

Lach. O dainty lyer!

Pseud. Thirty rivers more With Aligaunte."

Timon, a Play, p. 39.

In the Privy Purse Expenses of Henry VIII., under date of Feb. 16, 1530, occurs the following item:—"Paied to the S'geant of the Sello' for iii tonne of white wyne of galiake (Gaillac in Languedoc)." See also the Northumberland House-Hold Book, ed. 1827, p. 414; and Taylor's Penniless Pilgrimage, 1618 (Works, 1630, i. 136).



+ Of the doctour that went with the fouler to catche byrdes. xcviii.

+ There was a doctour on a tyme, whiche desired a fouler, that went to catche byrdes with an owle, that he might go with hym. The byrder was content, and dressed hym with bowes, and set hym by his oule, and bad hym say nothynge. Whan he saw the byrdes alyght a pace, he sayde: there be many byrdes alyghted, drawe thy nettes; where with the byrdes flewe awaye. The byrder was very angry, and blamed him greatly for his speakyng. Than he promysed to hold his peace. Whan the byrder was in agayn, and many byrdes were alyghted, mayster doctour said in latyn: aves permultae adsunt; wherwith the byrdes flewe away. The byrder came out ryghte angrye and sore displeased, and sayde, that by his bablynge he had twyse loste his pray.[284] Why, thynkest thou, foole (quod the doctour), that the birdes do vnderstand latin? This doctour thought that the vnderstandynge, and nat the noyse, hadde feared awaye the byrdes.

FOOTNOTES:

[284] "He that will take the bird, must not skare it."—Herbert's Outlandish Proverbs, 1640, No. 41.



+ Of hym that vndertoke to teache an asse to rede. xcix.

+ There was a certayne tyran,[285] the which, to pylle one of his subiectes of his goodes, commaunded hym to teache an asse to spelle and rede. He sayd it was impossible, except he might haue space inough therto. And whan the tyran bade hym aske what tyme he wolde, he desyred x yeres respite. But yet, bycause he vndertoke a thynge impossible, euerye bodye laughed hym to scorne. He tourned towarde his frendes and sayde: I am nothynge affrayde: for in that space, either I, the asse, or elles my lorde may dye.

By whiche tale appereth, that it is holsome to take leyser inough aboute a thynge that is harde to do, specially whanne a man can nat chose to take hit on hande.[286]

FOOTNOTES:

[285] This word, which frequently occurs in the course of the present work, must be understood to be merely equivalent to the Greek [Greek: tyrannos], a prince whose authority is unlimited by constitutional restraints. There seems to be some ground for the supposition that [Greek: tyrannos] is nothing more than the Doric form of [Greek: koipanos]. It may be mentioned that in middle-Greek the word despota ([Greek: despotes]) bore no harsher meaning than that of a petty prince, acting independently, but acknowledging a suzerain. It is to be found in this sense, I think, in almost all the Byzantine historians.

[286] i.e. when the undertaking is no matter of choice.



+ Of the fryer that confessed the woman.[287] c.

+ As a fayre yong woman of the towne of Amilie confessed her to a friere, he beganne to burne so in concupiscence of the flesshe, that he entyced her to consente to his wylle. And they agreed, that she shulde feyne her selfe sycke, and sende for hym to shryue her. Within iij dayes after, she feyned her selfe sycke, and laye downe in her bedde, and sente for the same fryere to shryue her. Whan the friere was come, and euery body voided out of the chambre, he went to bedde to the woman, and there laye a longe space with her. Her husbande, suspectyng so longe a confession, came in to the chaumbre; whose sodayne comynge so sore abasshed the fryer, that he went his way and lefte his breche behynde him lyenge on the bedde. Whan her husbande sawe the breche, he sayd a loude, this was nat a frier, but an aduouterer; and for great abbomination of the dede he called all his householde to se hit. And forthe with he went and complayned to the warden of that couent, and thretned to slee hym that had done the dede. The wardyen, to appease his anger, sayde, that suche publysshynge was to the shame of hym and his householde. The man said, the breche was so openly founde, that he coude nat hyde it. The warden to remedy the matter sayde, it was saynt Fraunces' breche, an holy relyke that his brother caryed thither for the womans helth, and that he and his couent wolde come and fetche hit home with procession. With those wordes the man was contente. Anone the warden and his frieres, with the crosse before them, and arayed in holye vestementes, went to the house and toke vppe the breche; and two of them, on a clothe of sylke, bare it solemlye on hyghe betwene theyr handes, and euerye bodye that mette them kneled downe and kyssed it. So, with great ceremony and songe, they brought it home to their couente. But after, whanne this was knowen, ambassadoures of the same citie wente and complayned therof before the Holy See Apostolyke.

FOOTNOTES:

[287] This is a very favourite tale with the early Italian novelists. In Dunlop's History of Fiction, ii. 364-5 (Second Edition), the incident is said to have been founded on a real adventure of a French priest. In the following extract from a highly curious pamphlet, it appears in a different form:—

"There was a rich Burgess of Antwerp, a Mercer by his trade, who was a Bawd to his own Wife (though it was against his will or knowledge), but I blame him not, for I doubt hee hath many more fellowes as innocent and ignorant as himselfe, but this was the case, his wife wearing corke shooes, was somewhat light-heel'd, and like a foul player at Irish, sometimes she would beare a man too many, and now and then make a wrong Entrance. The summe was, that shee lov'd a Doctor of Physicke well, and to attaine his company shee knew no better or safer way, than to faine her selfe sicke, that hee under the colour of visitation might feele her pulses, and apply such cordiall Remedies as might either ease or cure her. In briefe, the Doctor being sent for, comes and finds the Mercer her husband walking in his shop with a neighbour of his, where after a leash of Congees, and a brace of Baza los manus, the Mercer told him that his Wife is a languishing sicke woman, and withall entreats him to take the paines to walke up the staires, and minister some comfort unto her: Master Doctor, who knew her disease by the Symptomes, ascends up into the Chamber to his longing patient, staying an houre with her, applying such directions and refections, that her health was upon the sudden almost halfe recovered; so taking his leave of her (with promise of often visitation) he comes downe into the shope, where the guiltlesse Bawd her husband was, who demanding of the Doctor how all did above; truely quoth hee, much better than when I came, but since I went up, your wife hath had two such strange violent fits upon her, that it would have grieved your very heart to have seene but part of one of them."—Taylor's Bawd (Works, 1630, ii. 94).



+ Howe a chaplen of Louen deceyued an vsurer. ci.

+ In the towne of Louen[288] was a chaplayne called Antonye, of whose merye sayenges and doynges is moche talkynge. As he mette on a daye one or two of his acqueyntaunce, he desyred them home with him to dyner: but meate had he none, nor money. There was no remedy but to make a shefte. Forth he goth, and in to an vserers kytchynne, with whome he was famylier; and priueilye vnder his gowne he caryed oute the potte with meate, that was sod[289] for the vsurers dyner. Whan he came home, he putte oute the meate, and made the pot to be scoured bryght, and sente a boye with the same pot to the vserer to borowe ii grotes theron, and bade the boye take a bylle of his hande, that suche a brasse potte be delyuered hym. The boy did as he was bydde; and with the money that he hadde of the vsurer, he bought wine for theyr dyner. Whan the vsurer shulde go to dyner, the potte and meate was gone, wherfore he alto chydde his mayde. She said there came no bodye of all the daye, but syr Antony.[290] They asked him, and he sayde he had none. At length, they sayde in erneste, he and no man els had the pot. By my fayth (quod he), I borowed suche a potte vpon a tyme, but I sente hit home agayne; and so called witnes to them, and sayde: lo, howe peryllous it is to deale with men nowe a dayes withoute wrytynge. They wolde lay thefte to my charge, an' if I had no wrytinge of the vsurers hande; and so he shewed oute the wrytinge. And whan they vnderstode the disceyte, there was good laughynge.

FOOTNOTES:

[288] Louvaine.

[289] Cooked.



+ Of the same chaplen and one that spited him. cii.

+ The same Antony dyned on a tyme with a sorte of merye felowes, amonge whome there was one that greatly spited[291] him in his scoffes and merye iestes. And as they sate laughynge and sporting, one asked whiche was the most reuerent part of mans bodye? One sayd the eie, an other the nose; but Antony, bycause he knew his enuyer wolde name the clene contrarye, sayde the mouth was the most reuerent parte. Naye, quod his enuyer, the parte that we sytte on is the moste reuerent; and bicause they meruayled whye, he made this reason, that he was moste honourable amonge the common people, that was fyrste sette; and the parte that he named was fyrste sette. Whiche sayenge contented them, and they laughed merelye. He was nat a littell proude of his sayenge, and that he hadde ouer come Antonye. This past forth. Four or fyue dayes after, they were bothe bydde to dyner in a nother place. Whan Antony cam in, he found his enuier, that sat talkynge with other, whyle the diner was makynge redy. Antony tourned his backe to him and lette a great ***** agaynst his face. His enuyer, greatlye disdayninge, sayde: walke knaue with a myschiefe, where hast thou ben nourtered? Why and dysdaynest thou, quod Antony? if I had saluted the with my mouthe, thou woldest haue saluted me agayne; and nowe I grete the with that parte of my body, that by thyn owne sayenge is moste honourable, thou callest me knaue.

Thus he got agayne his praise, that he hadde loste before.

FOOTNOTES:

[290] It is scarcely necessary to mention that formerly all priests were styled Sir. One of John Heywood's interludes is called: A Play between Johan the Husband, Tyb the Wife, and Sir Johan the Prest. In an old ballad in the Ashmole Collection, beginning, "Adew! my pretty pussy," there is this passage:—

"But the gyrld ys gon, syr, With a chokynge bon, syr, For she hath got Syr John, syr, And ys oure vyckars wyff."

[291] Thwarted, crossed.



+ Of the olde man that put him selfe in his sonnes handes. ciii.

+ There was a certayne olde man, whiche let his sonne to mary, and to brynge his wyfe and his chyldren to dwelle with him, and to take all the house in to his owne hande and gydinge. So a certeyne tyme the olde man was sette and kepte the vpper ende of the table; afterwarde they sette him lower, aboute the myddes of the table; thyrdely they set him at the nether ende of the table; fourthly he was set amonge the seruantes; fyfthly they made him a couche behynde the halle dore, and cast on him an olde sacke clothe. Nat longe after, the olde man died. Whan he was deed, the yonge mans sonne came to him and sayde: father, I prey you gyue me this olde sacke cloth, that was wonte to couer my graundfather. What woldest thou do with it, sayde his father? forsoth, sayd the chylde, it shall serue to couer you whan ye be olde, lyke as it did my grandfather;—at whiche wordes of the chylde this man ought to haue ben ashamed and sory. For it is wryten: sonne, reuerence and helpe thy father in his olde age, and make him not thoughtfull and heuy in his lyfe, and though he dote, forgyue it him. He that honoreth his father, shall lyue the longer, and shall reioyce in his owne chyldren.[292]



+ Of hym that had a flye peynted in his shilde. ciiii.

+ A yonge man, that on a tyme went a warfare, caused a flye to be peynted in his shylde, euen of the very greatnes of a flye; wherfore some laughed at him and sayde: ye do well, because ye wyll not be knowen. Yes, quod he, I do it because I wyll be knowen and spoken of. For I wyll approch so nere our enemys, that they shall well decerne what armes I beare.

Thus it, that was layde to him for a blame of cowardise, was by his sharpe wytte turned to a shewe of manlynes; and the noble and valiaunt Archidamus sayde: shotte of crossebowes, slynges, and suche lyke ingins of warre are no proffe of manhode; but whan they come and fyghte hande to hande, appereth who be men and who be not.

FOOTNOTES:

[292] The original of this is the Fabliau of La Hence Partie, in Barbazan's Collection. The story has been used by Lando, in his Varii Componimenti, 1552, 8vo.



+ Of th' emperour Augustus and the olde men. cv.

+ As the noble emperour Augustus on a time cam in to a bayne,[293] he behelde an olde man, that hadde done good seruice in the warres, frotte[294] him selfe a gaynste a marble pyller for lacke of one to helpe to wasshe him. Th' emperour, moued with pite, gaue an annuite to fynde hym and a seruaunt to wayte vpon him. Whan this was knowen, a great sorte of olde men drewe them to gether, and stode where as the emperour shulde passe forth by, euerye one of them rubbynge his owne backe with a marble stone. The emperour demaunded why they dyd so? Bycause, noble emperour, sayd they, we be not able to kepe seruantes to do it. Why, quod the emperour, one of you maye clawe and frote an others backe well inough.



+ Phocions oration to the Athen[ian]s.[295] cvi.

+ Phocion on a daye, treatynge a longe oration to the people of Athenes, plesed them very wel; and whan he sawe that they all to gether allowed his wordes, he tourned to his frendes and sayd: haue I vnwarely spoken any hurte? So moche he perswaded hym selfe, that nothyng coude plese them that was well and truely spoken.

FOOTNOTES:

[293] Bath.

[294] Rub, from the French, frotter.

[295] Phocion, the celebrated Athenian patriot, b. 402 B.C. d. 317 B.C. Full particulars about him may be found in Mr. Grote's History of Greece, and in Dr. Smith's Dictionary of Classical Biography.



+ Of Demosthenes and Phocion. cvii.

+ Demosthenes sayde to Phocion: if the Atheniens falle ones in a madnes, they woll slee the. To whom he answered: ye, surely, if they waxe madde they woll slee me; but an' they waxe ones wyse, they wyll slee thee. For Demosthenes spake moche to the peoples pleasure, and spake thynges rather delytable than holsome.



+ Of Phocion that refused Alexanders gyfte. cviii.

+ What tyme Alexander, kynge of Macedone, sent an hundred besauntes of golde for a gyfte to Phocion, he asked them that brought the money, how it came that Alexander sent it to hym alone, seyng there were many other men in Athenes beside him. They answered: bycause he iugeth you alone to be an honest and a good man. Therfore, quod he, let hym suffre me to be taken to be suche one styll.[296]

Who wolde not wonder at the cleane and vncorrupt courage of this Phocion? He was but a poore man, and yet the greatnes of the gyft coude nothinge moue hym. Besyde also he shewed, that they the whiche, while they mynistre the common welthe, absteyne not from takyng of gyftes, neyther be nor ought not to be taken for good men.

FOOTNOTES:

[296] Orig. reads unnecessarily, and to be such one styll.



+ Of Denyse the tyranne and his sonne. cix.

+ What tyme Denyse the tyranne vnderstode that his sonne, that shulde reigne after hym, had commytted aduoutry with a worshypfull mans wyfe, angerly he sayde to hym: dyd I, thy father, euer suche a dede? The yonge man answered: no, ye had not a kynge to your father. Nor thou, sayde Denyse, art not lyke to haue a sonne a kynge, excepte thou leaue commyttynge of suche wyckedde dedes.



+ Of Pomponius the Romayne, that was brought before Mithridates. cx.

+ Pomponius, a noble man of Rome sore hurte and wounded, was taken and brought before Mithridates, whiche asked hym this questyon: if I cure and heale thy woundes, wylte thou than be my frende? He answered hym agayne thus: if thou wylte be a frende to the Romaynes, thou shalt than haue me thy frende.

This was a noble stomacke, that preferred the welth of his countrey before his owne helth.



+ Of Titus and the iester. cxi.

+ Suetonius sheweth that Titus the father prouoked a scoffer, that stode iesting with euery body, that he shulde lyke wyse saye somewhat to hym. I woll, sayde the scoffer, after ye haue done youre easement. He iested at the emperours countinance; he loked alway as one that streyned hym selfe.

On suche a visaged man writeth Martiall:

Utere lactucis, ac mollibus utere maluis. Nam faciem durum Phebe cacantis habes.



+ Of Scipio Nasica and Ennius the poete.[297] cxii.

+ Whan Scipio Nasica came on a tyme to speake with Ennius the Poete, he asked his mayde at the dore, if he were within; and she sayde, he was not at home. But Nasica perceyued, that her mayster badde her say so, and that he was within; but, for that tyme dissemblynge the matter, he wente his waye. Within a fewe dayes after, Ennius came to Nasica, and knockynge at the dore, asked if he were within. Nasica hym selfe spake oute a loude and sayd, he was not at home. Than sayde Ennius: what, manne, thynke you that I knowe not your voyce? Wherevnto Nasica aunsweredde and sayde: what a dishoneste man be you? Whan I sought you, I beleued your mayde, that sayde ye were not at home, and ye wyll not beleue me myn owne selfe.

FOOTNOTES:

[297] The celebrated Latin poet. "Quintus Ennius," Gellius tells us (N. A. lib. xvii. cap. 17), "said he had three hearts, because he understood the Greek, Oscan, and Latin languages."



+ Of Fabius Minutius and his sonne. cxiii.

+ Fabius Minutius was of his sonne exhorted on a tyme to gette and conquere a place that was mete for them, and to theyr great auauntage, the whiche thynge he sayde, they myght do with the losse of a fewe men. Wyll ye be one of those fewe, sayde Fabius to his sonne?

Therby shewynge, that it is a poynt of a good capiteyne to care for the lest of his souldiours, and to saue them as nere as he can.[298]

Th' emperour Antoni[n]us Pius loued moche this sentence of Scipio, whiche wolde ofte saye: I hadde leauer saue one citezen, thanne slee a thousande ennemyes.

FOOTNOTES:

[298] Orig. reads coude.



+ Of Aurelian, that was displeased, bycause the cite Tyna was closed agaynst hym. cxiiii.

+ What tyme the emperour Aurelian came to the cytie Tyana, he founde hit closed agaynste hym; wherfore all angerly he sayde: I woll not leaue a dogge a lyue in this towne;—whiche wordes reioyced moche his menne of warre, by cause of the great praye and botye that they thoughte to wynne there. One of the citezins, called Heradamon, for feare lest he shuld be slayne amonge the other, betrayed the cyte. Whan Aurelian had taken the cite, the fyrste thinge he dyd, he slewe Heradamon the traytour to his contrey; and to his souldiors that came to hym and desyred, that they myght accordynge to his promyse, ouerren and spoile the cyte, he answered: go to, I sayde I wolde nat leaue a dogge a lyue; spare nat, kyll al the dogges in the towne.

By this meane the gentyl prince rewarded the traytoure accordinge to his deseruinge, and dispointed the couetise of his souldyours.[299]

FOOTNOTES:

[299] So far extends Berthelet's edition, of which the colophon is: Imprinted at London in Flete Strete in the house of Thomas Berthelet nere to the Cundite, at the sygne of Lucrece. + Cum priuilegio. The remaining 26 tales are from the Ed. of 1567.



+ Of the Nunne forced that durst not crie. cxv.

+ A certayne Nunne with swellyng of hir bealie was bewrayed to haue companied with a man. And beyng called before the couente, was right sharpely rebuked by the Abbesse, for puttinge of their house to so great a shame. She, to excuse hir-selfe, sayde, she was forced by a yonge man, that came into hir bedde chaumbre, agaynst whom (beynge stronger than she) it was in vain for hir to striue, and force coulde not be imputed to hir for a cryme. Then sayde the Abbesse: thou mought est haue bene helde excused, if thou haddest cryed. The Nunne sayed: so woulde I haue doone, had it not beene in our Dortour[300] where to crye is contrary to our Religion.



+ Of him that sayde he was the Diuelles man. cxvi.

+ In the ciuile seditious time of Edwarde the fourth and Henry the syxte,[301] one chaunced to mete with a company, that quickly asked him: whose man art thou? Kinge Edwardes, quoth he. Art thou so (quoth they)? and all [set] to beate him: For they were of Henrie's syde. Wherefore to the nexte company that mette him and demaunded whose man he was, he answered: kyng Henries. Art thou so (quoth they), and likewyse all [set] to bete him. For they were on Edwardes parte. The Felow, thus sore beaten, went foorth, and met with another route, who asked him: whose man art thou? He, beynge at his wittes ende what to saye, aunswered: the Dyuelles man. Than the dyuell goe[302] with thee (saide they). Amen (quoth he): For it is the best maister that I [have] serued this daie.

By this tale ye maye perceiue, how greuouse and perillous all ciuyle sedicions be, so doubtfull may it stand, that a man can not tel on which side to holde. For he that now is stronger, another tyme is weaker, as Fortune list to turne hir wheele.

FOOTNOTES:

[300] Dormitory.

[301] During the Wars of the Roses. In The First Part of Edward IV., by Thomas Heywoud, 1600 (Shakesp. Soc. repr. p. 41), Hobs, the Tanner of Tamworth, says:—

"By my troth, I know not, when I speak treason, when I do not. There's such halting betwixt two kings, that a man cannot go upright, but he shall offend t'one of them. I would God had them both, for me."



+ Of the vplandishe[303] priest, that preached of Charitie. cxvii.

+ A priest in the countrey, not the wysest nor the best learned, preached to his parisheners of charitie so vehemently, that he sayed plainely, that it was impossible for anye man to be saued or to come to heauen without charitie, except onely the kynges grace, God saue hym.

FOOTNOTES:

[302] This word is in the original text printed twice by an oversight. I have struck out the duplicate.

[303] i.e. a person dwelling in the uplands or mountainous districts where the learning of the cities had not very deeply penetrated. Hence the word became synonymous with ignorant and uninformed. Alexander Barclay's fifth eclogue is "Of the Citizen and Uplandish Man." The poem of Jack Upland is printed in the old editions of Chaucer and in Wright's Political Poems and Songs, 1861, ii. 16. Mr. Wright assigns to it the date of 1401.

"He hath perus'd all the impressions Of Sonnets, since the fall of Lucifer, And made some scurvy quaint collections Of fustian phrases, and uplandish words."

Heywood's Fair Maid of the Exchange, 1600.



+ Another sayinge of the same preest. cxviii.

+ Before the kynges Maiestyes commissioners sent[304] downe intoo the realme in visytacyon, it chaunced the forsayd preest among other to appere: to whom one of the vysytours (guessyng quickly what docter he was) sayde: Mayster parsone, howe spende you youre tyme? what rede you? Forsoothe, syr (sayd the preest), I occupy my selfe in readyng the New Testament. That is very well done (sayd the commissioner). But sir, I pray you, who made the newe Testament? That dyd (said the preest) kynge Henry the eyghte, God haue mercye vpon hys soule![305]

FOOTNOTES:

[304] Perhaps went is the true reading.

[305] "What must he (the king) do then? He must be a student. He must write God's booke himselfe, not thinking because he is a king, but he hath licence to do what he will, as these worldly flatterers are wont to say."—Latimer's Second Sermon before King Edward VI. 1549.



+ Of the fryer that praysed sainct Frauncis. cxix.

+ A fryer, preachyng to the people, extolled saynct Frauncis aboue confessors, doctours, vyrgins, martyrs, prophetes, yea, and aboue one more than prophetes, John the Baptist, and finially aboue the Seraphicall order of angels ; and stil he sayd: yet let vs goe higher. So whan he could goe no further, exccpte he shoulde put Christe out of hys place, whiche the good man was halfe afrayed to do, hee sayd aloude: and yet we haue founde no fit place for hym. And staying a lyttell whyle, hee cryed out at laste, sayinge: Where shall we place this holy father? A frowarde felowe, standyng among the audeynce, saide: if thou canst find none other, than set hym here in my place: for I am weary. And so went his way.



+ Of hym that warned his wife of wasshynge her face in foule puddell water. cxx.

+ A man dwellyng in the countrey, takynge his iourney, bad hys wife in his absence playe the good husewyfe, that he at his home comyng[306] might finde all thynges well. Swete husbande (quoth she), commaunde what ye wyll, and you shall fynde me obedyense in al thynges. Dere heart (sayd he), I wil you no more but this one thynge, whiche is easye ynough to do. What is that (quoth she)? That you wasshe not your face wyth this water, shewing hir a puddell in a donghill, foule blacke, and stinkynge. As oft as she in his absence went by that puddell, hir mynde was meruallously moued, for what cause hir husebande so diligently warned hir of that thynge onely. Nor shee coulde not perswade hir selfe, but that there was some great thynge in it. To be brefe, it tempted hir so, that she wasshed, that is, she defiled hir face. She loked in the glasse, and was greatly displeased with hir self. Yea, and it was foure or fyue daies after, er shee coulde wasshe out the stynke and steinyng. Whan the good manne came home, hee found his wyfe very pensife and loking angerly. What is the matter (quoth he)? Shee at laste coulde not forbeare, but blamed him for warnyng hir to wasshe in that water, and shewed hym what had chaunced. Why wasshed you in it (quoth he)? I gaue you warnynge, that you shoulde not wasshe therein, to the intente this harme shoulde haue not happned.

By thys tale ye may perceyue, that the more yee forbydde some women a thynge, the greater desyre they haue to do it.

FOOTNOTES:

[306] i.e. coming home.



+ Of the husbandman that caused the iudge to geue sentence agaynst him selfe. cxxi.

+ An husbandman in Zeland came before the chiefe ruler of the countrey (whose bull had kyld the poore mans cow) and after he had leaue to speake, hee sayde: my bull leapyng ouer the dyche hath kyld your cow; what is the law? The ruler, mistrustyng no deceit, answered: thou muste paie for hir. Than with licence the poore man sayd: Sir, I failled in my tale: your bull hath kyld my cow. The ruler, beyng a little amoued, sayde: this is another matter. The poore man sayd: Verely it is all one thyng: and you haue truely iudged.

By this tale ye perceyue, that a wyse iudge wyll first know the cause well, and yet will not be hasty to geue sentence. The prouerbe biddeth thus: Iudge righteously the cause of the pore and needy.



+ Of the Italian friar that shoulde preach before the B. of Rome and his cardinals. cxxii.

+ A famous frier in Italye, called Robert Liciens,[307] appoincted to preache before the bishop of Rome and his cardynals beinge in the pulpit, and beholdyng the bishop and his cardinals, enter into the churche with so great pompe, noise, and rufflyng, that no king vse[d] the lyke, and seyng the bishop borne by vi men, and beynge at great leysure set downe, and harkenyng what he would saye, he sayd nought elles but this: Phy on S. Peter! phy on S. Paule! and with rauyng he spit now on the ryght side, and nowe on the left syde: and so, without more ado, shouyng through the preace,[308] gat hym awaie, leauyng them all astonied: some thynkyng hym to bee fallen into a furie: other supposyng him to bee fallen into some heresy, Iewishe or Paganise belefe, that he so burst out intoo suche blasphemies. And whan it was consulted to laie hym in prison, a cardinall, who knewe his wytte, and loued hym, perswaded, that he shoulde fyrste be called before the bishop and certayne cardinals, to here what he would saye. And so beyng inquired, why hee burste out into so horrible blasphemies, he answered, that he had appointed a farre other argument: and in fewe woordes declared the whole summe of hys sermon. But whan I (sayde he) sawe you lyue so pompously, and in so great delites and pleasures: and on th'other side consydered, howe homely, howe peyneful, and how harde a lyfe the Apostles ledde, whose places you supplie, I gathered, that eyther they were mad, that by so sharpe a waye contended to come to heauen, or els that you holde[309] the streight way to hell. But of you that beare the keyes of heauen, I could not perswade my self to deeme euill. Than what els could I do, but detest theyr foolyshnes whiche, whan thei might after this facion haue liued gloriously in all welth and pleasure, wold rather all their life turment them selfes with watchynges, fastynges and other peynfull labours?

FOOTNOTES:

[307] Better known as Roberto Caraccioli-Caraccioli. He was born in 1425 at Licio, in the Neapolitan territory, and was thence often called Robertus Liciensis. Watt (Bibliotheca Britannica, voce Licio) mentions only his sermons: but he published several other tracts.

[308] Usually spelt prease or prese. The word signifies crowd. It occurs in this sense in Edwardes' Damon and Pythias, composed about 1564.

"Yet shall there no restraynt Cause me to cese, Among this prese, For to encrese Youre goodly name."

Skelton's Garlande of Laurell.



+ Of the doctour that sayd, in Erasmus workes were heresies. cxxiii.

+ A notable doctour, preachyng in a solemne audience, sayd, that in Erasmus workes were certayne heresies. Who, beyng come out of the pulpit, was desired of a learned man to shewe foorthe some place hereticall. Hee aunswered, that he had neuer red Erasmus bookes: hee began once to reade the woorke intitled Moria,[310] but by reason it was so high a stile, he feared to fal into some heresy.

FOOTNOTES:

[309] Orig. and Singer read or els you to holde.



+ Of the frier that preached at Paules crosse agaynst Erasmus. cxxiv.

+ A great clerke, noseld[311] vp in scoole doctours, not well vnderstanding the latin stile and phrase, that than began to florishe apase, and hauynge smale acquaintaunce with the noble authours of the latyne tongue, saide, that Erasmus, with his rhetorike and eloquence went about to corrupte the Byble. For this (quoth he) I dare be bolde to say: that the holy scripture ought not to be mingled with the eloquence of Tully, nor yet of Cicero.[312]

FOOTNOTES:

[310] The celebrated Moria Encomium, of which an English version appeared in 1549.

[311] Nosled or nousled is the same as nursled, brought up. See Todd's Johnson, 1827, in voce nosled; and Richardson's Dict. ibid. The word is not in Webster or Nares.

[312] The allusion in the text is probably to the paraphrastic version of the New Testament by Erasmus, which had then recently appeared in two volumes, folio (1516). The work did not appear in an English dress till 1548.



+ Of an other frier that taxed Erasmus for writyng Germana theologia. cxxv.

+ A fryer, that preached on a tyme too the people, inueighed greatly agaynste Erasmus, because he, in his booke called Enchiridion,[313] preysyng the Apostles doctryne, sayde, that theirs was Germana theologia, that is to saye in Englishe, the very ryght diuinitee. Lo (sayeth this dotishe fryer), here may ye see, what a man Erasmus is: he sayeth, there is no diuinite but in Germonie, where heretikes are specially fauored and maintayned.



+ Of an other that inueighed agaynst the same Erasmus. cxxvi.

+ Because Erasmus wrote, that it wer better for the monke of the charterhouse to eate fleshe than to suffer his brother Venire in capitis discrimen, that is to saye, than his brother should stand in ieoperdie of his life: this dotishe doctour interpretat his wordes thus: The charterhouse monke wer better eate fleshe, than his head shoulde a littell ake.[314]

By these tales we may se, what peuysshe preachers haue been in this world: And be thei neuer so foolishe: yet the ignorant people, lacking lerninge to iudge suche matters, thinke them selues well taught, when they be cleane misledde.

FOOTNOTES:

[313] Enchiridion Militis Christiani. An English translation of this work appeared in 1533, in which Enchiridion is rendered The Handsome Weapon.

[314] These pleasantries at the expense of the preachers in the time of Henry VIII. bear perhaps a little hard upon the fraternity. The rendering of Latin authors was not much improved a century or two later.



+ Of kyng Richarde the iii, and the Northern man.[315] cxxvii.

+ After kyng Richard the iii had vsurped the crowne of England, he, to staye and stablishe the people, that sore murmured against his dooynges, sent for fyue thousand men out of the North partes vp to London: and as he was mustryng of them in Thickettes feelde, one of the souldiers, cam, and clappynge the kyng on the shoulder, said: Diccon, Diccon, by the mis, ays blith that thaust kyng![316]

FOOTNOTES:

[315] The Northern men seem to have been formerly favourite subjects for story tellers and ballad-writers. Martin Parker published a poem called "The King and a Poore Northern man," and there is a ballad entitled "The King and the Northern man." Neither has anything to do with the present tale. No. 95 of the C. Mery Talys, of which only a small fragment is at present known to exist, is entitled, "Of the Northern man that was all harte."

[316] "Richard, Richard, by the mass I am glad that thou art king!"



+ Of the Canon and his man. cxxviii

+ A canon in Hereforde, that kepte a good house, toke into his seruice a gentilmans sonne, to trane and bryng hym vp, to wayte and serue at the table.[317] So on a day the sayde canon, hauynge many strangers at his bourd, made a signe to his man, that there wanted some thyng. He, nought perceuyng, cam to his maister and sayde: Sir, what lacke you? Seest not, man (quoth he), they haue no bread on the table? Sir, saide his man, there was enough euen now, if they woulde haue let it alone.



+ Of the same Canon and his sayd man. cxxix.

+ The same Canon, an other tyme, bad his sayd seruant after supper, go downe and draw a cuppe of wyne, to make his guestes drinke at theyr departing, whom he had before taught, how he shuld take of the couer. So the yong man, bringyng the candell in one hand, and the cup of wine couered in the other, offred it vnto them. His mayster, seyng that, made a token to hym. He, not knowyng wherfore, sayd: Sir, what woulde you haue? Take of the couer (quoth his mayster). Then holde you the candell (saide the seruaunt).

FOOTNOTES:

[317] A very usual practice in those days. At p. 254 of the Northumberland House-hold Book (ed. 1827) we find:—

"Two Gentlemen waiters for the Bordes Ende and a servaunt betwixt theim iii—Hannsmen and Yonge Gentlemen at their Fryndes fynding v (as to say Hanshmen [Henchmen] iii and yong Gentlemen iii)."

Orig. and Singer, for trane read trade.



+ Of the gentilman that checked hys seruant for talke of ryngyng. cxxx.

+ A gentilman, brought vp at London in an In of court, was maryed, and kepte an house in the countrey: and as he sate at supper with his neyghbours aboute hym, vpon an alhalow-daie at night, amonge other communication, he talked of the solemne ringyng of the belles (as was the vsage than). His man, that waited on the table, sayd to his maister: sir, he that were this nyghte in London, shoulde here wonderfull ryngyng, and so began a tale. Hys mayster, not content with his talke, said: Hold thy peace, foole, wilt thou tel me of ringing in London? I know it (I trow) a lyttell better than thou. For I haue beene there an C alhalow nyghtes.



+ Of the blynde man and his boye. cxxxi.

+ A certayne poore blynde man[318] in the countrey was ledde by a curst boy to an house where a weddyng was: so the honest folkes gaue him meate, and at last one gaue hym a legge of a good fatte goose: whiche the boy receyuyng kept a syde, and did eate it vp hym selfe. Anon the blynde man saide: Iacke, where is the leg of the goose? What goose (quod the boy)? I haue none. Thou liest (quoth the blinde man), I dyd smell it. And so they wente forth chidyng together, tyll the shrewde boye led the poore man against a post: where hittyng his brow a great blow, he cryed out: A hoorson boy, what hast thou done? Why (quod the boy) could you not smell the post, that was so nere, as wel as the goose that was so farre from your nose?



+ Of him that sold two lodes of hey. cxxxii.

+ In London dwelled a mery pleasant man (whiche for [t]his tyme we may call Makeshift[319]) who, beyng arrayed somewhat haruest lyke, with a pytcheforke on his necke, went forth in a mornyng and mette with twoo lode of hey comeyng to the citieward, for the whiche he bargayned with the owners to paye xxx shillynges. Whyther shall we bring them, quoth thei? To the Swan in Longe Lane[320] by Smithfeeld (quoth he), and soo left them, and sped him thether the next[321] waye. Whan he came to the good man of the Swanne, he asked, if he would bye two good lodes of hey? Yes marie, sayde he. Where be thei? Euen here they come (quoth Makshyft). What shall I paye? sayde the inholder. Foure nobles (quoth hee): but at length they agreed to xx shilling. Whan the hey was come, Makshyft bad them vnlode. While they were doyng so,[322] he came to the inholder,[323] and said: sir, I prai you let me haue my monei: for, while my men be vnloding, I wil goe into the citee to buy a littell stuffe to haue home with me. The good man was content, and gaue it hym. And so he went his way. Whan the men had vnloded the hey, they came and demanded their money. To whom the inholder saide: I haue paid your maister. What master (quoth they)? Mary, quod he, the same man that made you bring the hey hether. We know hym not, quod they. No more doe I (quod he); that same man bargayned with me for the hey, and hym haue I payed: I neyther bought nor sold with you. That is not enough for vs, quod they; and thus thei stroue together. But what ende thei made, I know not. For I thynke Makeshift came not againe to agree them.

FOOTNOTES:

[318] Tricks upon blind persons naturally form a feature in the jest books. The eighty-third adventure of Tyl Owlglass is a practical joke on a blind man, and in Scoggin's Jests, 1626, there are one or two examples.

[319] A cheat or rogue. See Rowland's Knave of Clubbs, 1600 (Percy Soc. ed. p. 18). The word Shifter is employed by Rowlands in the Knave of Harts, 1613, and by others of our elder writers in the same sense. In the following passage, shift is used to signify a piece of knavery:—

"Ferd. Brother, you lie; you got her with a shift.

Frank. I was the first that lov'd her."

Heywood's Fair Maid of the Exchange, 1607 (Shakesp. Soc. ed. p. 87).

See also Taylor's Works, 1630, ii. 144. In his Sculler, 1612, the last mentioned writer introduces a sharper into one of his epigrams under the name of Mounsieur Shift, "cozen-german to Sir Cuthert Theft" (Works, iii. 25).

[320] Antiently, no doubt, Long Lane ran between hedges into Smithfield; but it appears that even in the early part of Elizabeth's reign building had commenced in this locality. Stow (Survey of London, edit. 1720, lib. iii. p. 122) says:—"Long Lane, so called from its length, coming out of Aldersgate Street against Barbican, and falleth into West Smithfield. A Place also of Note for the Sale of Apparel, Linnen, and Upholsters Goods, both Secondhand and New, but chiefly for old, for which it is of note." See also p. 284 of the same book, and Cunningham's Hand Book of London, edit. 1848, in voce, with the authorities and illustrations there given. Rowlands, in his Letting of Humors Blood in the Head Vein, 1611, Sign. C. 2 verso, celebrates this spot as one of the principal haunts of the pawnbrokers. In Wits Recreations, 1640 (edit. 1817, p. 109), there is the following epigram:—

"He which for 's wife a widow doth obtain, Doth like to those that buy clothes in Long Lane, One coat's not fit, another's too too old, Their faults I know not, but th' are manifold."

Day, in the Parliament of Bees, 1641, 40, Sign. C, speaks very disrespectfully of the population of Long Lane in his time. See Maroccus Extaticus, 1595 (Percy Soc. ed. p. 16), Dekker's Knights' Conjuring, 1607, ed. Rimbault, p. 54. Webster's Works, by Hazlitt, i. 94. and Taylor's Works, 1630, Sign. Ggg4. The Swan Inn has disappeared, but whether it has merged in the Barley Mow, or the Old Red Cow, I do not know.

[321] Nearest.

[322] The original reading is, so while they were doying.

[323] Innkeeper. This form of the word continued to be used by English writers even in the later half of the seventeenth century.



+ How a mery man deuised to cal people to a playe. cxxxiii.

+ A Mery man, called Qualitees,[324] on a tyme sette vp billes vpon postes aboute London, that who so euer woulde come to Northumberlande Place[325] should here suche an antycke plaie[326] that, both for the mattier and handelyng, the lyke was neuer heard before. For all they that shoulde playe therin were gentilmen.

Those bylles moued the people (whan the daye came) to come thyther thycke and threfolde. Now he had hyred two men to stande at the gate with a boxe (as the facion is), who toke of euery persone that came in a peny, or an halfe peny at the least. So whan he thought the market was at the best, he came to the gate, and toke from the men[327] the boxe with money, and geuynge theym their duitie, bade them go into the hall, and see the rome kepte: for hee shoulde gooe and fetche in the plaiers. They went in, and he went out, and lockt the gate faste, and toke the key with hym: and gat hym on hys geldynge, whiche stode ready saddilled without Aldryshegate[328] at an In,[329] and towarde Barnet he roade apace. The people taryed from twoo a clocke tyll three, from three to foure, styll askyng and criyng: Whan shall the plaie begyn? How long shall we tarye? Whan the clocke stroke foure, all the people murmured and sayed: Wherefore tarye we any longer? Here shall be no playe. Where is the knaue, that hath beguyled vs hyther? It were almes to[330] thruste a dagger throughe hys chekes, sayeth one. It were well done to cutte of hys eares, sayeth an other. Haue hym to Newgat! sayeth one: nay, haue hym to Tyburne! sayed an other. Shall wee loose our money thus, saieth he? Shall wee bee thus beguiled, sayeth this man? shulde this be suffered, saieth that man? And so muttrynge and chydyng, they came to the gate to goe oute; but they coulde not. For it was faste lockt, and Qualitees had the key away with him. Now begynne they a freshe to fret and fume: nowe they swere and stare: now they stampe and threaten: for the locking in greeued them more than all the losse and mockery before: but all auayle not. For there muste they abide, till wayes may be founde to open the gate, that they maye goe out. The maidens that shoulde haue dressed theyr maisters suppers, they wepe and crye; boyes and prentises sorow and lament; they wote not what to say, whan thei come home.

For al this foule araye, For al this great frai, Qualites is mery ridyng on his waie.[331]

FOOTNOTES:

[324] Perhaps this, like Makeshift, was merely intended as a phrase to disguise the real name of the person intended.

[325] Northumberland Alley was in Fenchurch Street, and was notorious for bowling-greens, gaming-houses, &c. Probably this is the locality intended. See Cunningham's Handbook to London. 596 edit. 1848.

[326] i.e. a burlesque play.

[327] Orig. and Singer read man.

[328] Aldersgate. In the Ordinary, by W. Cartwright, Moth the Antiquary says:—

"Yclose by Aldersgate there dwelleth one Wights clypen Robert Moth; now Aldersgate Is hotten so from one that Aldrich hight; Or else of Elders, that is, ancient men; Or else of Aldern trees which growden there; Or else, as Heralds say, from Aluredus."

[329] Inns were not so plentiful at this time as they afterward became. Perhaps the establishment here referred to was the celebrated Bell Inn, which was still standing in the time of James the First, and which is mentioned by Taylor the Water-Poet in his Penniless Pilgrimage, 1618 (Works, 1630, i. 122):—

"At last I took my latest leave, thus late At the Bell Inn, that's extra Aldersgate."

[330] i.e. it were a charity to thruste, &c. The original and Singer have, "it were almes it thruste."

[331] In the original this is printed as prose, perhaps to economize space. Array, or araye, as it is here spelled, signifies obviously disturbance or clamour. So in the History of King Arthur, 1634, Part iii. cap. 134:—"So in this rumour came in Sir Launcelot, and found them all at a great aray;" and the next chapter commences with, "Aha! what aray is this? said Sir Launcelot."



+ How the image of the dyuell was lost and sought. cxxxiiii.

+ In the Goldesmithes hall, amonge theyr other plate, they had a fair standyng cuppe, with an image of S. Dunstane on the couer, whiche image hadde an image of the dyuell at his foote.[332] So it chaunced at a banket that the sayed image of the dyuell was lost and gone. On the morow after, the bedyll of the company was sent about to serche amonge the goldesmythes, if any suche came to be sold. And lyke as of other[333] he enquired of one, if any man had brought to hym to be solde the foole that sate at sainct Dunstanes foote vpon the couer of the cuppe? What foole meane you? quoth he. Mary, the diuell, sayde the bedill. Why, quoth the other, call ye the diuell a foole; ye shal find him a shrewd foole, if ye haue ought to do with hym? And why seke you for him here amonge vs? Where shoulde I els seke for hym? (sayde the bedill). Mary in hell, quoth he, for there ye shall be sure to fynde the dyuell.

FOOTNOTES:

[332] Probably the cup bequeathed by Sir Martin Bowes to the Goldsmiths' Company, and still preserved, is here meant. See Cunningham's Handbook of London, art. Goldsmiths' Hall, and for some account of the Bowes family, which intermarried with that of D'Ewes, see Autobiography and Correspondence of Sir Simonds D'Ewes, ii. 17, 18. It seems to have been a rather common practice formerly to engrave figures of Saints, representations of the Passion, &c. on the bottom of drinking cups.—See Rowlands' Knave of Clubbs, 1600. (Percy Soc. repr. p. 64.)

[333] In the same manner that he inquired of others, &c.



+ Of Tachas, kyng of Aegypt, and Agesilaus. cxxxv.

+ What tyme Agesilaus, king of the Lacedemonians, was come to Tachas the kyng of Egipt, to aide him in his wars: Tachas beholdyng Agesilaus to bee a man of so litel stature and smal personage tauntyng hym with this scoffe, sayde: The mountayne hath trauayled, Iupiter forbode, but yet hee hathe broughte forth a mouse.[334] Agesilaus beynge offended wyth hys saying, answered: and yet the tyme wyl come, that I shall seeme to the a Lyon. And not longe after, it chaunced through a sedycion that arose amonge the Aegypcyans, whan Agesilaus was gone from him, the king was constreyned to flee to the Persians.

FOOTNOTES:

[334] This is related differently in Plutarch. "Now Agesilaus being arrived in AEGYPT, all the chiefe Captaines and Governors of King Tachos came to the seashore, and honourably received him: and not they onely, but infinite numbers of AEgyptians of all sorts ... came thither from all parts to see what manner of man he was. But when they saw no stately traine about him, but an olde gray-beard layed on the grasse by the sea side, a litle man that looked simply of the matter, and but meanely apparelled in an ill-favored thread-bare gowne: they fell a-laughing at him, remembring the merry tale, that a mountaine," &c.—North's Plutarch, edit 1603, fol. 629-30.



+ Of Corar the Rhetorician, and Tisias hys scoler. cxxxvi.

+ A certayne man called Corar, determyned hym selfe for mede[335] to teache the arte of Rhetorycke, with whom a yong man, named Tisias, couenanted on this wyse, that he wold pay him his wages, whan he had perfectly learned the scyence. So whan he had lerned the art, he made no haste to paye his teacher, wherfore hys mayster sued hym. Whan they came before the iudges, the yonge man demaunded of hys mayster, what was the effecte of the scyence? He aunswered: In reasonyng to perswade.[336] Than go to, if I perswade these honourable iudges that I owe you nothing, I wil pay you nothyng: for you are cast in your action. And yf I can not perswade them, than wil I pay you nothing, because I haue not yet perfectly learned the art. Corar wrestyng[337] the yonge mans owne argumente agaynst hym selfe, said: If thou perswade them, that thou oughteste[338] me nothynge, than (accordynge to the couenaunt) thou must nedes pay mee my wages: for thou haste the art perfectly. Now yf thou canst not perswade them: yet shalt thou pay mee my wages, because thou arte condemned by the Iudges' sentence to be my detour.

FOOTNOTES:

[335] Remuneration.

[336] To persuade by reasoning.

[337] Turning by force of ingenuity.

[338] Owed.



+ Of Augustus and Athenodorus the Phylosopher. cxxxvii.

+ What tyme Athenodorus the Phylosopher had (by reason of hys greate age) obteyned lycence of Auguste to depart home, he admonysshed him, that beyng angry, he should neyth saye nor dooe any thyng, before he had by hym selfe rehearsed ouer the xxiiii Greeke letters. Whych saying whan the prince heard, he sayed: he had yet nede of him to teache hym the arte to keepe sylence, by coloure whereof he retayned the olde man about hym a whole yere longer.

By this tale we maie perceyue, that of al things a prince, a ruler, a iudge ought specyally to eschewe wrathe. For the morall booke sayeth: Anger troubleth the mynde, that it can not discerne the truth. And Seneca wryteth, that slowe tarryinge doeth profite in nothyng but in wrathe.



+ Of the frenche kyng and the brome seller.[339] cxxxviii.

+ As a Frenche kyng on a tyme was in huntyng, he hapned to lose his companie, and comyng through a brome heath, he herde a poore man and his wife piteously complayne on fortune. The kyng, after he had wel heard the long lamentacion of theyr poore and miserable state, came vnto them, and after a few words he questioned with them howe they liued. They shewed him, how they came daily to that heath, and all the brome, that thei and their asse coud cary home, was lyttell enough to finde theim and their poor children meat. Well (quoth the kyng), loke that you bryng to morow early to the court gate as many bromes as you and your asse can carye, and see that you sell them well. For I warrant you thei shalbe bought apase. They thanked hym, and so he departed from them. Anon came the lordes, knightes, and gentilmen to the kinge, and home they rode. After supper the kyng called them all before hym, and gaue them in commaundement that neither lord, knyght, nor gentilman, should on the morow come into the courte wythout a new brome in his hande. For he had a thyng to doe, whiche they shoulde know afterwarde. So on the morowe, whan they come to the court gate, there found they the poore man, his wife and the asse, loded with bromes, whiche hee solde to the galauntes of the court, euen as he wolde him selfe. Wherby the sayd poore man was made riche for euer and they lyttell the woorse. Thus whan the kynge sawe the states and gentilmen of his court come in so wel furnished with grene bromes, and consydring the cause wherfore it was, he laughed merilye.

FOOTNOTES:

[339] See Lane's Arabian Tales and Anecdotes, 1845, p. 73, for a story similar to this.



+ An other tale of the same frenche kyng.[340] cxxxix.

+ There chaunced, in a certaine part of the realme, an offyce to fal into the kings handes by the deth of a man which was worth a cccc crounes by the yere. An honest witty gentilman, dwelling therby, trustyng to obteyne the sayde offyce, made as good speede to the courte as hee could, and as soone as he might come to the kynges presence, he kneled downe, and in most humble wise desired his grace to geue vnto hym that offyce, declaring what it was. The king perceiuing how good an office it was, and thinking therwith to rewarde some suche one of hys seruauntes, that had well deserued it, answered quickely, and sayd: My frend, be content; you get it not. The gentilman, heryng those wordes, sayd: I most hertely thancke your grace; both I and myne are mooste bounden to praye for your hyghnesse;—and so, makynge lowe obeysaunce, wente his waye. Whan he had gone a lyttell waye, the kyng commaunded to call hym againe. Whan he was come backe, the kyng asked him if he dyd well vnderstand, what answere he gaue hym. Yes, truely, sayd the gentilman. What sayd I, quoth the kynge? Marye, your grace bad me bee contente, for I shoulde not haue the offyce. Why dyd you than (quoth the kyng) geue me so great thankes? Because, sayde the gentylman, your grace gaue me so sone an answere without longer suite and losse of tyme, whiche would haue bene to me a very muche hyndraunce. For I haue at home a great householde, vnto the which it behoueth me to loke dylygently, or els it wyl be wrong wyth me. The kynge, markynge well the wysedom and dexterytee of the gentylman, and conceyuyng a fauoure towarde hym, sayd: Wel, nowe shal you thanke me twyse: for you shall haue the offyce that you sewe for: and than, castynge hys eyes vpon hys Chauncelloure, commaunded hym, that all suche wrytynges as concerned [t]hys sayd offyce, shoulde wyth al speede bee made oute, that he were at home agayne to ouerloke hys famyly.

FOOTNOTES:

[340] This story is applied by Richard Johnson, editor of the Pleasant Conceits of Old Hobson the Merry Londoner, 1607, 4to, to his own purposes. Johnson was an unscrupulous appropriator.



+ What an Italyan fryer dyd in his preachyng. cxl.

+ Robert Lyciense, a fryer of Italye (of whome we spake before), preachyng on a tyme with great vehemencye of wordes and gesture, exhorted the prynces and people to make warre agaynste the Turkes and other the enemies of chrystendome: and whan he came to the very effect, and [was] moste hotte and earnest in his tale, he began to wepe, that there were none, that wold to so godly a purpose offer them selfe to be capitains. If this be the let[341] of the mattier, beholde me here, whiche will be nothynge abasshed to cast aside this grey friers coate, and to take vpon mee to be a souldiour, or your capitaine. And euen with that woorde he caste of his vpper coate; and vnderneth he was a playne souldiour, arraied in a skarlet cloke, and a long rapier hangeyng by his side. And in this warlyke apparell, in the personage of a Capitan, he stode and preached halfe an houre. Being sente for of the Cardinals with whom he was familiar, hee was asked what was the pretence of that new example. He answered, that he did it for his wenches pleasure, who familiarly confessed that nothynge in the sayd Robert displeased hir, saue his friers coate. Then saide he to hir:

In what apparell shal I best plese you? In a man of warres, quoth shee? Than se that you be at my sermon to morow, quoth he.[342]

FOOTNOTES:

[341] The obstacle to the matter.

[342] This tale is followed by the colophon, which is: Imprinted at London in Fletestrete, by Henry Wykes. Cum priuilegio ad imprimendum solum.



ADDITIONAL NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

MERY TALES AND QUICK ANSWERES.

P. 16. Of him that preched on Saynt Christophers day.

In A Booke of Meery Riddles, 1617 (repr. of ed. 1629, p. 73 of Mr. Halliwell's Literature of the xvith and xviith centuries Illustrated, &c. 1851), we have the following:—

The xvii Riddle.

"Who bare the best burthen that ever was borne At any time since, or at any time befor[n]e.

Solution.—It was the asse that bare both Our Lady and her Sonne out of Egypt."

P. 21. Of the yonge woman that sorowed so greatly her husbondes deth.

"There was a poor young Woman who had brought herself even to Death's Door with grief for her sick Husband, but the good Man her Father did all he could to comfort her. Come, Child, said he, we are all mortal. Pluck up a good heart, my Child: for let the worst come to the worst, I have a better Husband in store for thee. Alas, Sir, says she, what d'ye talk of another Husband for? Why, you had as good have stuck a Dagger to my Heart. No, no; if ever I think of another Husband, may—! Without any more ado, the Man dies, and the Woman, immediately breaks into such Transports of tearing her Hair, and beating her Breast, that everybody thought she'd have run stark-mad upon it. But, upon second Thoughts, she wipes her Eyes, lifts them up, and cries, Heaven's will be done! and turning to her Father, Pray Sir, says she, about t' other Husband you were speaking of, is he here in the House?"—Complete London Jester, 1771, p. 49.

This story was appropriated by the editor of Pasquil's Jests, mixed with Mother Bunch's Merriments, of which there were several editions, the first appearing in 1604. In Pasquil's Jests, the tale is told of a "young woman of Barnet."

She rowned her father in the eare.

Gower (Confessio Amantis, ed. Pauli, Vol. 1. p. 161) has a precisely similar expression:—

"But whan they rounenin her ere, Than groweth all my moste fere."

P. 21. Of him that kissed the mayde with the longe nose.

"'Good Sir William, let it rest' quoth shee, 'I know you will not beleeue it when I haue reuealed it, neither is it a thing that you can helpe: and yet such is my foolishnesse, had it not beene for that, I thinke, verily I had granted your suite ere now. But seeing you vrge me so much to know what it is, I will tell you: it is, sir, your ill-fauoured great nose, that hangs sagging so lothsomely to your lips, that I cannot finde in my heart so much as to kisse you.'"—Pleasant History of Thomas of Reading, by T. D. circa 1597, p. 73 (ed. Thoms).

P. 26. Of the Marchaunt that lost his bodgetie betwene Ware and Lon[don].

In Pasquil's Jests, 1604 occurs an account substantially similar to the present, of "how a merchant lost his purse between Waltam and London."

P. 28. Of the fatte woman that solde frute.

"Being thus dispatcht he layes downe Jacke A peny for the shot: 'Sir, what shall this doe?' said the boy. 'Why, rogue, discharge my pot! So much I cald for, but the rest By me shall nere be paid: For victualls thou didst offer me; Doe and thou woot, I said.'"

The Knave of Clubbs, by S. Rowlands, 1600 (Percy Soc. ed. p. 20).

P. 31.—Wilson introduces the "notable historie" of Papirius Pretextatus into his Rule of Reason, 1551, 80, and it had previously been related in Caxton's Game and Playe of the Chesse, 1474.

P. 33. Of the corrupte man of law.

"An arch Barber at a certain Borough in the West, where there are but few Electors, had Art enough to suspend his Promise till the Voters, by means of Bribery, the old Balsam, were so divided, that the casting vote lay in himself. One of the Candidates, who was sensible of it, cameinto his little dirty Shop to be shaved, and when the operation was finish'd, threw into the Bason Twenty Guineas. The next Day came the other Candidate, who was shaved also, and left Thirty. Some Days after this, the first return'd to solicit the Barber's Vote, who told him very coldly, That he could not promise. Not promise! says the Gentleman; why I thought I had been shaved here! 'Tis true, says the Barber, you was, but another Gentleman has been trimm'd since that; however, if you please, I'll trim you again, and then tell you my mind."—Complete London Jester, ed. 1771, p. 99.

P. 35. Conon peaked into the court.—So in Skelton's Colin Clout (Works by Dyce, I. 312), we have:—

"He cryeth and he creketh, He pryeth and he peketh, He chides and he chatters," &c.

In the Posthums Poems of Richard Lovelace, Esq. 1659, 80, p. 60, the word is employed in a different sense:—

"Have you not marked their C[oe]lestial play, And no more peek'd the gayties of day?"

To peak, however, in the sense in which it is used by Skelton, and in the Merie Tales, &c. is of rather frequent occurrence in Scoggin's Jests, 1626 (but first printed before 1565); and Gascoigne employs the word in the same manner in the Steel Glas, n. d. (1576) 40. The passage in Gascoigne, which I perused long ago, was brought back to my recollection by a note by the Rev. A. Dyce to Skelton's Colin Clout.

P. 38.—See Diogenes Laertius, transl. by Yonge, p. 226. Diogenes the Cynic evidently had Thales in his mind when he said "that mathematicians kept their eyes fixed on the sun and moon, and overlooked what was under their feet."

P. 40. Of him that dreamed he fonde golde.

In Pasquil's Jests, we are told "how drunken Mullins of Stratford dreamed he found golde." It is the same story.

P. 52. Gelidus facet anguis in herba.—Whoever edited this collection of stories seems to have had a great fancy for quotations. Throughout the C. Mery Talys, on the contrary, there is not a single instance of this passion for extracts. Sir Thomas Overbury, in his Characters (if at least they were written by him), ed. 1632, sign. K4, describes "An Innes of Court man" as taking "ends of Latine, though it be false, with as great confidence as ever Cicero could pronounce an oration." I suspect that the Mery Tales and Quicke Answeres were collected by some person more or less versed in the classics and in foreign authors, which was probably not the case with the C. Mery Talys, which do not smell so much of the inkhorn, as Gascoigne would have said.

P. 54. Breble-brable.

In Twelfth Night, act iv. sc. 2, Shakespeare makes the Clown use bibble-babble in a similar sense; but afterwards in the same drama, act v. sc.1, brabble is put for "a brawl."

This word is no doubt the same as the "pribbles and prabbles" which Sir Hugh uses more than once in the Merry Wives of Windsor. See act v. sc. 5.

P. 60. Of hym that payde his dette with crienge bea.—Compare the story of "the subtility of Kindlewall the lawyer repayed with the like craft," printed in Pasquil's Jests, ed. Gilbertson, n. d. 40.

P. 65. All to.—I fear that I too hastily adopted the self-suggested notion that the former words might be read more properly as one word, and in the sense which I indicated. Perhaps as all to or al to is not uncommonly used by early writers in this way, though the meaning in the present case is not particularly clear, it may be better to restore the original reading.

P. 67. Of the Inholders wyfe and her ii lovers.—See Rowlands' Knave of Clubbs, 1600, ed. Rimbault, p. 25.

P. 67. Daungerous of her tayle. So in the Schole-house of Women, 1542, the author says:—

"Plant them round with many a pin, Ringed for routing of pure golde, Faire without, and foule within, And of their tailes have slipper holde."

P. 70. Of Mayster Vavasour and Turpin his man.

"A Lawyer and his Clerk riding on the Road, the Clerk desired to know what was the chief Point of the Law. His Master said, if he would promise to pay for their Suppers that Night, he would tell him; which was agreed to. Why then, said the Master, good Witnesses are the chief Point in the Law. When they came to the Inn, the Master bespoke a couple of Fowls for Supper; and when they had Supped, told the Clerk to pay for them according to Agreement. O Sir, says he, where's your witness."—Complete London Jester, ed. 1771, p. 102.

P. 72. One of Pasquil's Jests is "how mad Coomes, when his wife was drowned, sought her against the stream." It is merely a new application of the present anecdote.

P. 75. Of the foole that thought hym selfe deed.—A story of a similar character occurs in The Meeting of Gallants at an Ordinarie, or, the Walkes in Powles, 1604, (repr. 1841, p. 19), where "mine Host" gives an account of "how a yong fellow was even bespoke and jested to death by harlots."

P. 93. He fell to a nyce laughyng.

Nice, in the sense of foolish, is also used by Gower, who likewise employs the substantive nicete in a similar way:—

"But than it were a nicete To telle you, how that I fare!"

Confessio Amantis, lib. vi.

Chaucer employs the word in a similar sense very frequently. In the Cuckoo and the Nightingale, is the following passage:—

"To telle his might my wit may not suffice, For he can make of wise folks ful nice."

P. 103. Crakers.—See the last edition of Nares, voce Crake and Craker. But an earlier example of the use of the word than any given in the Glossary occurs in Lupset's Works, 1546, 12mo (A Compendious Treatise teachying the waie of dying well, fol. 34 verso; this treatise was first printed separately in 1541). In a reprint of the C. Mery Talys, which appeared in 1845, the Editor, not knowing what to make of crake and craker, altered them, wherever they occurred, to crack and cracker respectively!

P. 113. Ch' adde.—In Wits Interpreter, The English Parnassus, by J. Cotgrave. 1655, ed. 1662, p. 247, is "the Devonshire Ditty," from which the following is an extract:—

"Cockbodikins, chil work no more, Dost think chi labour to be poor? No, no, ich chave a do—" &c.

But this phraseology is not peculiar to Devonshire.

P. 113, note 2.—Some additional particulars of interest, relative to ancient wines, may be found in Morte Arthure, ed. 1847, pp. 18, 20; and in the Squyer of Low Degre (Ritson's Ancient Engl. Met. Renancees, iii).

P. 121. Of the Courtear that ete the hot costerde.

"An arch Boy being at Table where there was a piping hot Applepye, putting a Bit into his Mouth, burnt it so that the Tears ran down his Cheeks. A Gentleman that sate by, ask'd him, Why he wept? Only said he, because it is just come into my Remembrance that my poor Grandmother died this Day Twelvemonth. Phoo! says the other, is that all? So whipping a large Piece into his Mouth, he quickly sympathized with the Boy; who seeing his Eyes brim-full, with a malicious Sneer Ask'd him, Why he wept? A Pox on you, said he, because you were not hanged, you young Dog, the same Day your Grandmother died."—Complete London Jester, ed. 1771, p. 53.

P. 140.—Of the Canon and his man. Note.

"When King James came into England, coming to Boughton, hee was feasted by Sir Edward Montague, and his six sonnes brought upp the six first dishes; three of them after were lords, and three more knights, Sir Walter Montague, Sir Sydney, and Sir Charles, whose daughter Lady Hatton is."—Ward's Diary, ed. Severn, p. 170-1.

P. 143. For at this foul araye.—So, in the Child of Bristow, an early metrical legend, we read:—

"When the burges the child gan se, He seid then, benedicite, Sone, what araye is this?"

Some later writers thought it necessary to use this word with a qualifying adjective, as shrewd array, &c. thus, in fact, reducing it to something like its ordinary and modern signification.

P. 148, note. 1. See Pepys' Diary, 6th ed. I. 29. "They brought me a draft of their drink in a brown bowl, tipt with silver, which I drank off, and at the bottom was a picture of the Virgin with the child in her arms, done in silver."—27th Feb. 1659-60. See also Brydges' British Bibliographer, vol. ii. p. 109.

THE END.

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