ajotttell Hjtiocraitg Slibtarg BOUGHT WITH THEVNCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF HENRY W. SAGE 1891 Cornell University Library PR 2243.G8 1904 The gull's hornbook 3 1924 013 118 835 a Cornell University § Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013118835 This Edition of the "Gull's Hornbook" is limited to 50 Copies on Japanese Vellum and 650 on Hand-made Paper, of which latter 480 only are for sale in England. THE KING'S LIBRARY EDITED BY PROFESSOR GOLLANCZ DE LA MORE PRESS QUARTOS IL THE GULL'S HORNBOOK ^•r r // KasS " *-. V—,— ,V ' '^" ,?S«i5e^' i-.-*-»1»' i«i/*«\tt* AM'X\NI)1:K MOliINO It niE DE LA MURK PRESS 2 9 8, RE GENT STREET, "V\'. B.M9Maa-Us: THE GULL'S HORNBOOK THE GULL'S HORN- BOOK BY THOMAS DEKKER, EDITED BY R. B. M^KERROW AT THE DE LA MORE PRESS 298 REGENT STREET LONDON W MDCCCCIV INTRODUCTORY NOTE The Author. — Thomas Deklcer, the author of the GulFs Hornbook was, while not perhaps one of the greatest, certainly one of the most prolific writers of his time. Poet, playwright, pamphleteer, and moralist, no subject and no style of writing seems to have come amiss to him. Born however, as he was, in London and brought up there, forced apparently from his youth to earn a living, harder then than now, by his pen, he had neither time, opportunity, nor perhaps learning to range far in the search for material. He turned by preference to what was nearest at hand, to what was every day before his eyes — the life of his contemporaries. There is little, if any, of his best work which does not deal in some way with the London in which he lived. And it is just this which makes what remains of his writings, his prose especially, so valuable to us at present. In the GuH's Hornbook and in other works of a similar nature we can see, when we make due allowance for the exaggeration of the satirist, how Londoners really lived and behaved three hundred years ago. We feel in his descriptions the sure touch of complete and minute knowledge. In the very modernness of the humours portrayed we are sensible of their truth to nature. Change but the setting and the " Gulls " of the Hornbook are but a slightly coarser variant of a certain class of townsman of to-day, and this may well satisfy us of the accuracy of the whole picture. Of Dekker's life little is known. It was in all probability a hard hand-to-mouth sort of existence whose only incident was an occasional visit to the debtor's prison, "that university" as it is called in a play written by him in conjunction with Middleton, "where men pay more dear for their wit than anywhere." Born about 1570, the early years of his literary life were spent for the most part in revising old plays or in working at new ones in collab- oration with one or other of the well known dramatists of his time. Drayton, Wilson, Chettle, Day, Webster, Munday, Middleton and Jonson are but a few of those with whom he joined. The fact that between 1598 and 1602 he wrote eight plays of his own, besides collaborating in some twenty-five others, shows the extraordinary facility with which he worked. In 1598 he came into notice as the author of an indifferent but very popular poem called Canaan s Calamity. It is a description of the fall of Jerusalem, a favourite subject of Elizabethan writers and moralists. The treatment is entirely commonplace and gives little indication of the poetic talent which his plays show him to have certainly possessed. With the latter we are not concerned here. The Shoemakers Holiday, Old Foriunatus, and Satiromastix deserve mention, though very different opinions as to the value of his dramatic work have been expressed by critics. It may be said in general that while almost all contain detached passages of great delicacy and beauty, the effect of the whole is often marred by hasty and careless workmanship. His first important prose work was The Wonderful Tear 1603, a vivid description of the ravages of the plague in London during that year. In 1606 he published The Seven Deadly Sins of London, which presents under the form of an allegory a lurid picture of con- temporary life. Dekker calls it on the title page "Opus septem dierum " ; if it was in truth but a week's work it is an extraordinary instance of rapidity of composition. In the same year appeared News from Hell (reissued in the following year as AKnigMs Conjuring. This, he tells us, was written in imitation of "ingenious, ingenuous, fluent, facetious T. Nash," and is in some measure a sequel to the latter's Piers Penniless his Supplication to the Devil. Passing over some less important pieces, we come in 1 608 to The Bellman of London : Bringing to Light the Most Notorious Villanies that are now Practised in the Kingdom. This book, which the numerous editions show to have been very popular, continued the series of descriptions of rogues ii. and vagabonds, their tricks and their habits, of which the most notable were Harman's Caveat for Cursitors (1566) and Robert Greene's "Coney-Catching" pamphlets (i 591-2); indeed from the first of these books Dekker borrowed no small part of his material. Later in the same year he published a second part under the title of Lanthorn and Candle-light, or the Bell-man's Second Night's Walk' (republished with considerable additions in 1612). In 1609 appeared The Raven's Almanac, a parody on the terrible prognostications of almanac-makers, and the book which is here reprinted, The Gull's Hornbook. His other prose works are of less interest ; several of them are of a religious turn, for Dekker, in common with Greene and most other writers of the period, if, probably, not over-particular in his manner of life, had at least a marvellous facility in repentance. From 1613 to 1616 Dekker seems to have been confined in the king's bench prison ; the reason is not known but is more likely to have been debt than anything else, unless perhaps it was thought that, for a law-abiding person, he possessed an unreasonably exact knowledge of the innumerable methods of swindling. In 1622, in conjunction with Massinger, he wrote The Virgin Martyr, which shows him at his best as a dramatist. In a tract published in 1625, entitled A Rod for Run-aways, he describes the state of terror caused by the visitation of the plague in that year, thus returning to one of his earliest subjects. In 1628 and 1629 Dekker composed the Lord Mayor's Pageants, namely, Britannia's Honour and London's Tempe, a fact which probably indicates that towards the end of his life he was in somewhat better circumstances, for such work as this seems generally to have been given to men of some recognised standing. His last work was probably the republication of Lanthorn and Candle-light, in 1 637. He is supposed to have died shortly after. One of the best known incidents of Dekker's life was his quarrel with Ben Jonson, It is an interesting and curious piece of literary history, but I have no space to discuss it here. The leading facts are these : after having collaborated with Dekker in the production of in. two plays, in 1599, Jonson suddenly attacked him in Every Man out of His Humour and Cynthia s Revels (1600), and again with more virulence in The Poetaster (1602). The cause of the quarrel is quite uncertain. Jonson's own words of excuse that he had been provoked by his opponents " with their petulant styles on every stage " are too vague to help us much. Shortly after, Dekker answered in the Satiromastix, a badly constructed, but in some scenes very amusing, play, and with this the quarrel seems to have been tacitly dropped, though so late as 1619 Jonson still considered, as is shown by his conversations with Drummond, that Dekker was a " knave." The best and most complete summary of all that is known regarding Dekker is to be found in Mr. A. H. BuUen's article on him in the Dictionary of National Biography. To this I must refer readers desirous of more detailed information. Sources. — The Gull's Hornbook, as regards general tone and plan, is founded on the Grobianus of Frederick Dedekind {c. 152^— 1598). This work, a poem in Latin elegiac verse, was first published in two books in 1 549, and again, in a much revised form and enlarged to three books, in 1552. It had an immense popularity, at least on thei Continent of Europe, as is shown by the numerous editions which were published both of the original and of a contemporary German translation. " Grobianus " * (from the German grob — rude, boorish) is the name of a supposed ignoramus to whom the poem is addressed, and to whom are given directions as to his conduct under a variety of circumstances, these directions being calculated to increase his offen- siveness to the highest possible limit ; it is in short a kind of satire in the imperative mood. This is not, of course, the first employment * The name " Grobianus " seems to be borrowed from Sebastian Brant's famous poem Das Narren Schiff, in the course of which he describes the worship paid to a new Saint " Grobian," the patron of boors. It is found later in several works of the period besides Dedekind's. iv. of such a mode of correction ; it was probably from the beginning of time as familiar in the nursery as it is at the present day, but never has an attempt to make a literary use of it had half the success of Grobianus; a success which, it must be confessed, seems to have been due rather to the peculiar taste of the readers than to any merit in the work itself. We find, not without satisfaction, that its popularity was far less in England than abroad. While the book was no doubt well known in this country, we meet with but few allusions to it, and even the translation into English which was published by one " R.F." in 1605, under the title of The Schoole of Slovenrie: Or, Cato turnd wrong side outward, seems to have attracted little attention. From Dekker's preface to the Reader, we learn that he had at one time, presumably before the above mentioned book was pub- lished, meditated a complete translation of his own, but not greatly liking the subject (or rather perhaps finding himself anticipated) he "altered the shape, and of a Dutchman \i.e,, German] fashioned a mere Englishman." The correspondence is rather in general tone than in detail, though there are many borrowings, especially in the early part of the book ; but almost all that Is noteworthy — for example the chapter on the behaviour of gallants in a theatre — is Dekker's own. And then too there is a great difference between the Gull and Grobianus. The latter Is a mere boor, the former is much more than this : he Is a boor posing as a wit, a fool qualifying for a sharper, Dedekind's work is for the most part merely disgusting ; it is concerned far more with such personal matters as the cleanliness and control of the body than with behaviour In society. From Grobianus an anthropologist wishing to make himself familiar with the manners and customs of natural man might conceivably learn something ; the historian who desires to form an Idea of German society In the sixteenth century will learn nothing or next to nothing. In order to give a general idea of the character of this work I print in an appendix the first chapter of Book I from the translation of 1605, this chapter being chosen as the one from which nearly all Dekker's borrowings are taken. A new translation of Grobianus, by R, Bull, appeared in 1739 under the title of Grobianus; or the Compleat Booby. It is dedicated to Dean Swift, to whose style of irony as exemplified in his " Directions to Servants " and " Polite Conversation " it bears no slight affinity, at least in method if not in execution. For an excellent account of the history of Grobianus see Professor Herford's Literary Relations of England and Germany in the Sixteenth Century ^ Chapter VII. _, Editions. — The Gull's Hornbook was first published in 1609, in quarto. There is no entry of it in the Stationers' Register. The book was probably not among its author's most popular writings, for, so far as is known, no other edition was published during his lifetime ; indeed, if we except the publication next mentioned, it was not reprinted for more than two hundred years. In 1674 Dekker's book was re-issued with alterations intended to bring it up to date, apparently as an original work, by one Sam. Vincent. The title is The Toung Gallant's Academy, or. Directions how he should behave himself in all Places and Company. Vincent prefixed a long dedication in which he says " I have . . . followed the humorous Tides of this Age, and like Democritus have fallen a laughing at all the world, seeing it doth nothing but mock it self. Sir, you have here the behaviour and Character of a Fop composed, to shew the Apish Fashions, and ridiculous Humours and Conver- sations of some of our Town-Gallants." The changes made by Vincent are for the most part trifling, consisting merely of such substitutions as "a Flaxen Peruke and a pair of Pantaloons " for "a gilt spur and a ruflled boot," the fashions of his day for those of Dekker's. But in two cases his revision is vi. of interest : he omits altogether the chapter dealing with the conduct of a "gull" in Paul's Walks, thus showing that, with Old St. Paul's, the use of the sacred edifice as a general meeting-place of gallants had passed away, and he rewrites a great part of the chapter on the theatre, in order to bring it into accordance with the changed con- ditions of the Restoration stage. As Vincent's book is scarce, it seemed worth while to reprint this chapter as an appendix. A comparison with Dekker's version will show how much and in what way theatrical arrangements in the second half of the seventeenth century differed from those of Shake- speare's time. To complicate the" imposture, Vincent prefixed an " Address to the Reader" the first half of which is taken from Dekker's "Address" before his News from Hell, and the rest from that prefixed to the same author's Jest! to make you Merry. Vincent's share is but half a dozen connecting words in the middle, and the concluding paragraph. Whatever may be said of Vincent, he cannot have been wholly ignorant of Jacobean literature. The GulFs Hornbook was reprinted in modern spelling in 1 8 1 2, 1 under the editorship of Dr. Nott, who added an introduction ' of twelve pages giving a life of the author and an elaborate list of his works. Nott's annotations are very full, indeed, so full that comparatively little has been left to be done by the present editor. The text is on the whole very correct. This edition having been issued at a high price (;^i. i6s.), for subscribers only, was difficvilt to obtain, and in 1862 a cheap reprint of the text alone was published at Islington by William M'MuUen. No editor's name is given, but as Mr. Hazlitt says, in his Handbook, that in this year an edition was published by Halliwell, and as there seems to have been no other, I presume that he was responsible for it. Two changes proposed by Nott were adopted and a few emendations suggested. vii. Nott's text was again reprinted in 1872, under the editorship of Charles Hindley, in the Old Book Collectors Miscellany, Part 7. (Vol. II.). In this edition there are a certain number of notes, mostly taken from the older edition. The statement that Nott's reprint had been compared with the original is not borne out by the fact that his errors remain uncorrected, even an important one in the first paragraph. This edition is by no means to be relied on. The work was again reprinted, this time in the spelling of the original quarto, in Vol. II. of the edition of Dekker's Non-Dramatic Works, issued by A. B. Grosart in 1 884. This text is, on the whole, accurate, but is not entirely free from serious slips. A very few notes, mosdy taken from Nott, are to be found in the Glossarial Index. Finally, it is included, again in the old spelling, in Professor Saintsbury's Elizabethan i^ Jacobean Pamphlets (The Pocket Library of English Literature), 1892. The notes are few and without importance. In the present edition the spelling and punctation have been modernised, as also the use of capital letters and italics. The British Museum copy of the edition of 1609 (C. 27. b. 23) has been used as the basis of the text. It should be mentioned that a large' number of the explanations in the glossary have been taken from Dr. Nott's edition ; it has not, however, been thought necessary to distinguish them as his when they contain only such matter as may be found in the ordinary books of reference. Further, those notes to which! his name is attached have, in several cases, been shortened ; and it has been necessary to omit a large amount of illustrative material, some of it, indeed, bearing rather remotely on the subject, which is to be found in his edition. The Gull's Hornbook is one of those works the full anno- tation of which would require a space many times as great as that occupied by the text itself. The initial letters to the several chapters are reproduced from Nott's edition. vni. THE GULS Horne-booke: Stultorum plena sunt omnia. Al Sauio meza parola, Basta. By T. Deckar. Imprinted at London for R.S,, 1609. Co all (^WilUL^ in jjeneral. HOM can I choose, my most worthy Maecen-asses, to be patrons to this labour of mine fitter than yourselves? Your hands are ever open, your purses never shut; so that you stand not in the com- mon rank of dry-fisted patrons who give nothing, for you give all. Scholars, therefore, are as much beholden to you as vintners, players, and punks are. Those three trades gain by you more than usurers do by thirty in the hundred : you spend the wines of the one, you make suppers for the other, and change your gold into white money with the third. Who is more liberal than you ? Who, but only citizens, are more free ? Blame me not, therefore, if I pick you out from the bunch of book-takers, to consecrate these fruits of my brain, which shall never die, only to you. I know that most of you, O admirable Gulls ! can neither write nor read. A Hornbook have I invented, because I would have you well schooled. Paul's is your walk, but this your guide : if it lead you right, thank me; if astray, men will bear with your errors, because you are Gulls. Farewell. T.D. Co t!)e lEleaDer* ENTLE reader, I could willingly be content that thou shouldst neither be at cost to buy this book, nor at the labour to read it. It is not my ambition to be a man in print thus, every term : Ad prelum tanquam ad prcelium ; we should come to the press as we come to the field, seldom. This tree of Gulls was planted long since ; but not taking root, could never bear till now. It hath a relish of Qiobianism, and tastes very strongly of it in the beginning: the reason thereof is, that, having trans- lated many books of that into English verse, and not greatly liking the subject, I altered the shape, and of a Dutchman fashioned a mere Englishman. It is a table wherein are drawn sundry pictures: the colours are fresh; if they be well laid on, I think my workmanship well bestowed; if ill, so much the better, because I draw the pictures only of Gulls. T.D. Cl)e Cl)apter0 contatneti in tf^is 20oofe- HAP. I. T'/ie Old world and the New weighed together. T'he 'Tailors of those times and these compared. The Apparel and Diet of our first fathers. Chap. 2. How a young Gallant shall not only keep his clothes (which many of them can hardly do) from Brokers; but also save the charges of taking physic ; with other Rules for the Morning. The praise of Sleep., and of Going Naked. Chap. 3. How a Gallant should warm himself by the fire ; how attire himself. "Description of a Man's Head. The praise of Long Hair. Chap. 4. How a Gallant should behave himself in PauPs Walks. How a Gallant should behave himself in an Ordinary. How a Gallant should behave himself in a Playhouse. How a Gallant should behave himself in a Tavern. How a Gallant is to behave himself passing through Chap. 5 Chap. 6 Chap. 7 Chap. 8. the City, at all hours of the night; and how to pass by any Watch. THE GULL'S HORNBOOK OR FASHIONS TO PLEASE ALL SORTS OF GULLS 0jcooemtum> SING, like the cuckoo in June, to be laughed at. If therefore I make a scurvy noise, and that my tunes sound unmusic- ally; the ditty being altogether lame in respect of the bad feet, and unhandsome in regard of the worm-eaten fashion ; you that have authority under the broad seal of mouldy custom to be called the "gentle audience," set your goodly great hands to my pardon: or else, because I scorn to be upbraided that I profess to instruct others in an art, whereof I myself am ignorant, do your worst; choose whether you will let my notes have you by the ears, or no : hiss, or give plaudities; I care not a nutgKell which of either: you can neither shake our comic theatre with your stinking breath of hisses, nor raise it with the thunderclaps of your hands: up it goes, in dispetto delfato. The motley is bought ; and a^coat with four elbows, for any one that will wear it, is put to making, in defiance of the seven wise masters. For I have smelt out of the musty sheets of an old almanack, that, at one time or other, even he that jets upon the neatest and sprucest leather ; even he that talks all adage and apothegm ; even he that will not have a wrinkle in his new satin suit, though his mind be uglier than his face, and his face so illfavouredly made that he looks at all times as if a toothdrawer were fumbling about his gums ; with a thousand lame heteroclites more, that cozen the world with a gilt spur and a ruffled boot ; will be all glad to fit themselves in Will Sommer his ward- robe, and be driven, like a Flemish hoy in foul weather, to slip into our school, and take out a lesson. Tush ! Ccelum petimus stultitid. All that are chosen constables for their wit go not to heaven. A fig therefore for the new-found college of critics. You courtiers, that do nothing but sing the gam-ut a-re of complimental courtesy, and, at the rustical behaviour of our country muse, will screw forth worse faces than those which God and the painter has bestowed upon you ; I defy your perfumed scorn, and vow to poison your musk-cats, if their civet excrement do but once play with my nose. You ordinary Gulls, that, through a poor and silly ambition to be thought you inherit the revenues of extraordinary wit, will spend your shallow censure upon the most elaborate poem so lavishly, that all the painted tablemen about you take you to be heirs-apparent to rich Midas, that had more skill in alchemy than Kelley with the philosopher's stone (for all that he could lay his fingers on turned into beaten gold), dry tobacco with my leaves, you good dry-brained polyprag- monists, till your pipe-offices smoke with your pitifully- stinking girds shot out against me. I conjure you, as you 8 come of the right goose-caps, stain not your house ;/but when at a new play you take up the twelvepenny room^ next the stage, because the lords and you may seem to be hail-fellow- well-met, there draw forth this book, read aloud, laugh aloud, and play the antics, that all the garlic-mouthed stink_ards may cry out : " Away with the fool ! " ) As for thee, Zoilus, go hang thyself; and for thee, Momus, chew nothing but hemlock, and spit nothing but the syrup of aloes upon my papers, till thy very rotten lungs come forth for anger. I am snake-proof; and though, with Hannibal, you bring whole hogsheads of vinegar-railings, it is impossible for you to quench or come over my Alpine resolution. I will sail boldly and desperately alongst the shore of the Isle of Gulls ; and in defiance of those terrible block-houses, their logger- heads, make a true discovery of their wild, yet habitable, country. Sound an ^alarum th erefore, O thou_niy__csurageous muse ! and"irke^a Dutch~cner make proclamation witK^thy 'drum : the effect of thine 0-yes being that if any man, woman, or child, be he lord, be he loon, be he courtier, be he carter, of the inns o' court, or inns of city, that hating, from the bottom of his heart, all good manners and generous education, is really in love, or rather doats on that excellent country lady, innoc ent Simplic ity, being the first, fairest, and chiefest chambermaid that our great-grandam Eve entertained into service : or if any person aforesaid, longing to make a voyage in the Ship of Fools, would venture all the wit that his mother left him to live in the country of Gulls, Cockneys, and Coxcombs ; to the intent that, haunting theatres, he may sit there like a popinjay, only to learn play-speeches, which afterward may furnish the necessity of his bare knowledge to maintain tabletalk ; or else, haunting taverns, desires to take the Bacchanalian degrees, and to write himself in arte bibendi magister; that at ordinaries would sit like Bias, and in the streets walk like a braggart ; that on foot longs to go like a French lackey, and on horseback rides like an English tailor: or that from seven years and upward, till his dying day, has a month's mind to have the Gull's Hornbook by heart ; by which in time he may be promoted to serve any lord in Europe, as his crafty Fool or his bawdy Jester ; yea, and to be so dear to his lordship, as for the excellency of his fooling to be admitted both to ride in coach with him, and to lie at his very feet on a truckle-bed. Let all such (and I hope the world has not left her old fashions, but there are ten thousand such) repair hither. Never knock, you that strive to be ninnyhammers ; but with your feet spurn open the door, and enter into our school: you shall not need to buy books; no, scorn to distinguish a B. from a battledore ; only look that your ears be long enough to reach our rudiments, and you are made for ever. It is by heart that I would have you to con my lessons, and therefore be sure to have most devouring stomachs. Nor be you terrified with an opinion that our rules be hard and indigestible ; or that you shall never be good graduates in these rare sciences of barbarism and idiotism. Oh fie upon any man that carries that un- godly mind ! Tush, tush ! U'arleton, Kemp, nor Singer, nor all the litter of fools that now come drawling behind them, never played the clowns more naturally than the arrantest sot of you all shall, if he will but boil my instructions in his brainpan. ID And lest I myself, like some pedantical vicar stammering out a most false and cracked Latin oration to master Mayor of the town and his brethren, should cough and hem in my de- liveries; by which means you, my auditors, should be in danger to depart more like woodcocks than when you came to me: O thou venerable father of ancient, and therefore hoary, customs, Silvanus, I invoke thy assistance ; thou that first taughtest carters to wear hobnails, and lobs to play Christmas gambols and to shew the most beastly horse-tricks ! O do thou, or if thou art not at leisure let thy mountebank goat-footed Fauni, inspire me with the knowledge of all those silly and ridiculous fashions, which the old dunstical world wore even out at elbows ; draw for me the pictures of the most simple fellows then living, that by their patterns I may paint the like ! Awake, thou noblest drunkard Bacchus : thou must likewise stand to me, if at least thou canst for reeling ; teach me, you sovereign skinker, how to take the Germanics' upsy- ^ freeze, the Danish rowsa,'the Switzer's stoop of Rhenish, the Italian's parmizant, the Englishman's healths, his hoops, cans, half-cans, gloves, frolics, and flapdragons, together with the most notorious qualities of the truest tosspots, as when to cast, when to quarrel, when to fight, and where to sleep: hide not a drop of thy moist mystery from me, thou plumpest swill-bowl; but like an honest red-nosed wine-bibber lay open all thy secrets, arid the mystical hieroglyphic of rashers o' th' coals, modicums, and shoeing-hdrns, and why they were invented, for what occupations, and when to be used. Thirdly, (because I will have more than two strings to my bow) Comus, thou clerk of Gluttony's kitchen, do thou also bid me " Preface ! " and let me not rise from table, till I am perfect 1 1 in all the general rules of epicures and cormorants : fatten thou my brains, that I may feed others; and teach them both how to squat down to their meat ; and how to munch so like loobies, that the wisest Solon in the world shall not be able to take them for any other. Jlf there be any strength in thee, thou beggarly monarch of Indians and setter-up of rotten-lunged chimneysweepers, Tobacco, I beg it at thy smoky hands ; make me thine adopted heir, that inheriting the virtues of thy whiffs I may distribute them amongst all nations ; and make the fantastic Englishmen, above the rest, more cunning in the distinction of thy roll Trinidado, leaf, and pudding, than the whitest-toothed blackamore in all Asia, j After thy pipe shall ten thousands be taught to dance, if thou wilt but discover to me the sweetness of thy snuffs, with the manner of spawling, slavering, spitting and drive- ling in all places, and before all persons. Oh what songs will I charm out, in praise of those valiantly strong-stinking breaths, which are easily purchased at thy hands, if I can but get thee to travel through my nose ! All the " Fobs ! " in the fairest lady's mouth that ever kissed lord shall not fright me from thy brown presence : for thou art humble ; and from the courts of princes hast vouchsafed to be acquainted with pejiny galleries ; and, like a good fellow, to be drunk for company, with watermen, carmen, and colliers ; whereas before, and so still, knights and wise gentlemen were, and are, thy companions. Last of all, thou lady of clowns and carters, schoolmistress of fools and wiseacres, thou homely but harm- less Rusticity, Oh breathe thy dull and dunstical spirit into our gander's quill ! Crown me thy poet — not with a garland of bays — Oh no ! the number of those that steal lauret is too 12 monstrous already — but swaddle thou my brows with those unhandsome boughs, which, like Autumn's rotten hair, hang dangling over thy dusty eyelids. Help me, thou midwife of unmannerliness, to be delivered of this embryon that lies tumbling in my brain. Direct me in this hard and dangerous voyage, that, being safely arrived on the desired shore, I may build up altars to thy unmatchable rudenes^; the excellency whereof I know will be so great, that grOutnoUs and monies will in swarms fly buzzing about thee. So Herculean a labour is this that I undertake, that I am enforced to bawl out for all your succours, to the intent I may aptly furnish this feast of fools, unto which I solemnly invite all the world; for at it shall sit not only those whom fortune favours, but even those whose wits are naturally their own. Yet, because your artificial fools bear away the bell, all our best workman- ship, at this time, shall be spent to fashion such a creature. 13 C?)apfer t I'he Old world and the New weighed together. 'The Tailors of those times and these compared. The Apparel and Diet of our first fathers. OOD clothes are the embroidered trapp- ings of pride, and good cheer the very e'ryngp-root of gluttony ; so that fine backs and fat bellies are coach-horses to two of the seven deadly sins ; in the boots of which coach Lechery and Sloth sit like the waiting maid. In a most desperate state therefore do tailors and cooks stand, by means of their offices ; for both those trades are apple-squires to that couple of sins. The one invents more fantastic fashions than France hath worn since her first stone was laid ; the other more lickerish epicurean dishes than were ever served up to Gallonius' table. Did man, think you, come wrangling into the world about no better matters, than all his lifetime to make privy searches in Birchin lane for whalebone doublets, or for pies of night- ingale tongues in Heliogabalus his kitchen ? No, no ! the first suit of apparel that ever mortal man put on, came neither from the mercer's shop, nor the merchant's warehouse : 15 Adam's bill would have been taken then, sooner than a knight's bond now ; yet was he great in nobody's books for satin and velvets. The silkworms had something else to do in those days than to set up looms and be free of the weavers : his breeches were not so much worth as King Stephen's, that cost but a poor noble ; for Adam's holiday hose and doublet were of no better stuff than plain fig-leaves, and Eve's best gown of the same piece; there went but a pair of shears between them. An antiquary in this town has yet some of the powder of those leaves dried to show. Tailors then were none of the twelve companies : their hall, that now is larger than some dorpes among the Netherlands, was then no bigger than a Dutch butcher's shop : they durst not strike down their customers with large bills : Adam cared not an apple- paring for all their lousy hems. There was then neither the Spanish slop, nor the skipper's galligaskin, the Switzer's blistered codpiece, nor the Danish sleeve sagging down like a Welsh wallet, the Italian's close strosser, nor the French standing collar: your treble-quadruple d^dalian ruffs, nor your stiffnecked rabatos, that have more arches for pride to row under, than can stand under five London bridges, durst not then set themselves out in print ; for the patent for starch could by no means be signed. Fashions then was counted a disease — and horses died of it : but now, thanks to folly, it is held the only rare physic ; and the purest golden asses live upon it. As for the diet of that Saturnian age, it was like their attire, homely. A salad, and a mess of leek-porridge was a dinner for a far greater man than ever the Turk was. Potato-pies and custards stood like the sinful suburbs of i6 cookery, and had not a wall so much as a handful high built round about them. There were no Daggers then, nor no Chairs. Crookes his ordinary, in those parsimonious days, had not a capon's leg to throw at a dog. O golden world ! The suspicious Venetian carved not his meat with a silver pitchfork, neither did the sweet-toothed Englishman shift a dozen of trenchers at one meal ; Piers Ploughman laid the cloth, and Simplicity brought in the voider. How wonder- fully is the world altered ! And no marvel, for it has lien sick almost five thousand years ; so that it is no more like the old theatre du monde, than old Paris Garden is like the king's Garden at Paris. What an excellent workman therefore were he, that could cast the Globe of it into a new mould : and not to make it look like MuUineux his globe, with a round face sleeked and washed over with whites of eggs ; but to have it in piano, as it was at first, with all the ancient circles, lines, parallels, and figures ; representing indeed all the wrinkles, cracks, crevices, and flaws that (like the mole on Helen's cheek, being cos amoris^ stuck upon it at the first creation, and made it look most lovely : but now those furrows are filled up with ceruse and vermilion ; yet all will not do, it appears more ugly. Come, come ; it would be but a bald world, but that it wears a periwig ; the body of it is foul, like a birding-piece, by being too much heated ; the breath of it stinks like the mouths of chambermaids by feeding on so many sweetmeats : and, though to purge it will be a sorer labour than the cleansing of Augeas' stable, or the scouring of Moorditch, yet Ille ego qui quondam ; I am the Pasquil's madcap that will do't. c 17 Draw near, therefore, all you that love to walk upon single and simple soles ; and that wish to keep company with none but innocents, and the sons of civil citizens ; out with your tables ; and nail your ears, as it were to the pillory, to the music of our instructions : nor let that title Gullery fright you from school, for mark what an excellent ladder you are to climb by. How many worthy, and men of famous memory for their learning (of all offices, from the scavenger, and so upward) have flourished in London of that ancient family of the Wiseacres, being now no better esteemed than fools and younger brothers ? This gear 'must be looked into ; lest in time (O lamentable time, when that hourglass is turned up !) a rich man's son shall no sooner peep out of the shell of his minority, but he shall straightways be begged for a concealment, or set upon, as it were, by freebooters, and ta'en in his own purse-nets by fencers and conycatchers. To drive which pestilent infection from the heart, here's a medicine more potent, and more precious, than was ever that mingle-mangle, of drugs which Mithridates boiled together. Fear not to taste it ; a caudle will not go down half so smoothly as this will ; you need not call the honest name of it in question ; for antiquity puts off his cap, and makes a bare oration in praise of the virtues of it : the receipt hath been subscribed unto, by all those that have had to do with simples, with this moth-eaten nxotlo, pro batum est. Your Diacatholicon aureum, that with gunpowder threatens to blow up all diseases that come in his way, smells worse than asafoetida in respect of this. You therefore whose bodies, either overflowing with the corrupt humours of this age's fantasticness, or else being burnt up with the inflamation of i8 upstart fashions, would fain be purged ; and, to shew that you truly loath this polluted and mangy-fisted world, turn Timonists, not caring either for men or their manners ; do you pledge me : spare not to take a deep draught of our homely counsel : the cup is full ; and so large, that I boldly drink, a health unto all comers. 19 Cjjapter it How a young Gallant shall not only keep his clothes (which many of them can hardly do for Brokers) ; but also save the charges of taking physic ; with other Rules for the Morning. T'he praise of Sleep, and of Going Naked. B OU have heard all this while nothing but the prologue, and seen no more but a dumb show : our vetus comcedia steps out now. The fittest stage upon which you, that study to be an actor there, are first to present yourself, is, in my approved judgement, the softest and largest down-bed; from whence, if you will but take sound counsel of your pillow, you shall never rise, till you hear it ring noon at least. Sleep, in the name of Morpheus, your bellyful ; ot, rather, sleep till you hear your belly grumbles and waxeth empty. Care not for those coarse painted-cloth rhymes made by the university of Salerne, that come over you with : Sit brevis, aut nullus, tibi somnus meridianus. Short let thy sleep at noon be, Or rather let it none be. Sweet candied counsel ! But there's ratsbane under it. Trust never a Bachelor of Art of them all ; for he speaks 21 your health fair, but to steal away the maidenhead of it. Salerne stands in the luxurious country of Naples ; and who knows not that the Neapolitan will, like Derick the hang- man, embrace you with one arm, and rip your guts with the other ? There's not a hair in his mustachio but, if he kiss you, will stab you through the cheeks like a poniard : the slave, to be avenged on his enemy, will drink off a pint of poison himself, so that he may be sure to have the other pledge him but half so much. And it may be, that, upon some secret grudge to work the general destruction of all mankind, those verses were composed. Physicians, I know, and none else took up the bucklers in their defence ; railing bitterly upon that venerable and princely custom of long- lying-abed. Yet, now I remember me, I cannot blame them; for they which want ,sleep, which is man's natural rest, become either mere naturals, or else fall into the doctor's hands, and so consequently into the Lord's : whereas he that snorts profoundly scorns to let Hippocrates himself stand tooting on his urinal, and thereby saves the charges of a groat's-worth of physic : and happy is that rnan that saves it ; for physic is non minus "Penefica quam benefica ; it hath an ounce of gall in it for every dram of honey. Ten Tyburns cannot turn men over the perch so fast as one of these brewers of purgations ; the very nerves of their practice being nothing but ars homicidiorum, an art to make poor souls kick up their heels ; insomuch, that even their sick grunting patients stand| in more danger of Mr. Doctor and his drugs, than of all the cannon-shots which the desperate disease itself can discharge against them. Send them packing therefore, to walk like Italian mountebanks ; beat not your brains to understand 22 their parcel-greek, parcel-latin gibberish ; let not all their sophistical buzzing into your ears, nor their satirical canvassing of featherbeds, and tossing men out of their warm blankets, awake you till the hour that here is prescribed. For do but consider what an excellent thing sleep is : it is so inestimable a jewel, that, if a tyrant would give his crown for an hour's slumber, it cannot be bought : of so beautiful a shape is it, that, though a man lie with an empress, his heart cannot be at quiet till he leaves her em- bracements to be at rest with the other : yea, so greatly indebted are we to this kinsman of death, that we owe the better tributary half of our life to him ; and there's good cause why we should do so, for sleep is that golden chain that ties health and our bodies together. Who complains of want, of wounds, of cares, of great men's oppressions, of captivity, whilst he sleepeth ? Beggars in their beds lake as rm]5l)..plearSttfe--asL_kings. Can we therefore surfeit on this delicate ambrosia? CSiTwe drink too much of that, whereof to taste too little tumbles us into a churchyard ; and to use it but indifferently throws us into Bedlam ? No, no ! Look upon Endymion, the Moon's minion, who slept threescore and fifteen years ; and was not a hair the worse for it. Can lying abed till noon then, being not the threescore and fifteenth thousand part of his nap, be hurtful? Besides, by the opinion of all philosophers and phy-, sicians, it is not good to trust the air with our bodies till the sun with his flame-coloured wings hath fanned away the misty smoke of the morning, and refined that thick tobacco- breath which the rheumatic night throws abroad of purpose to put out the eye of the element : which work questionless 23 cannot be perfectly finished, till the sun's car-horses stand prancing on the very top of highest noon ; so that then, and not till then, is the most healthful hour to be stirring. Do you require examples to persuade you ? At what time do lords and ladies use to rise, but then? Your simpering merchants' wives are the fairest liers in the world ; and is not eleven o'clock their common hour? They find, no doubt, unspeakable sweetness in such lying ; else they would not day by day put it so in practice. In a word, midday slumbers are golden : they make the body fat, the skin fair, the flesh plump, delicate, and tender: they set a russet colour on the cheeks of young women, and make lusty courage to rise up in men : they make us thrifty ; both in sparing victuals, for breakfasts thereby are saved from the hell-mouth of the belly ; and in preserving apparel, for whilst we warm us in our beds our clothes are not worn. The casements of thine eyes being then at this com- mendable time of the day newly set open, choose rather to have thy windpipe cut in pieces than to salute any man. Bid not good-morrow so much as to thy father, though he be an emperor. An idle ceremony it is, and can do him little good ; to thyself it may bring much harm : for if he be a wise man that knows how to hold his peace, of necessity must he be counted a fool that cannot keep his tongue. Amongst all the wild men that run up and down in this wide forest of fools, the world, none are more superstitious than those notable Ebritians, the Jews : yet a Jew never wears his cap threadbare with putting it off; never bends i' th' hams with casting away a leg; never cries : "God save you ! " though he sees the devil at your elbow. Play the 24 Jews therefore in this, and save thy lips that labour : only remember, that, so soon as thy eyelids be unglued, thy first exercise must be, either sitting upright on thy pillow, or rarely lolling at thy body's whole length, to yawn, to stretch, and to gape wider than any oyster-wife ; for thereby thou dost not only send out the lively spirits, like vaunt-couriers, to fortify and make good the uttermost borders of the body ; but also, as a cunning painter, thy goodly lineaments are drawn out in their fairest proportion. This lesson being played, turn over a new leaf; and, unless that Freezeland cur, cold winter, offer to bite thee, walk awhile up and down thy chamber, either in thy thin shirt only, or else (which, at a bare word, is both more decent and more delectable) strip thyself stark naked. Are we not born so ? And shall a foolish custom make us to break the laws of our creation ? Our first parents, so long as they went naked, were suffered to dwell in paradise ; but, after they got coats to their backs, they were turned out o' doors. Put on therefore either no apparel at all, or put it on carelessly : for look how much more delicate liberty is than bondage ; so much is the looseness in wearing of our attire above the imprisonment of being neatly and tailor-like dressed up in it. To be ready in our clothes is to be ready for nothing else : a man looks asjfji^e hung in chains, or like a scarecrow. And as those excellent birds, whom Pliny could never have the wit to catch in all his springes, com- monly called woodcocks, whereof there is great store in England, having all their feathers plucked from their backs, and being turned out as naked as Plato's cock was before all Diogenes his scholars, or as the cuckoo in Christmas, are 25 more fit to come to any knight's board, and are indeed more serviceable, than when they are lapped in their warm liveries ; even so stands the case with man. Truth, because the bald- pate her father, Time, has no hair to cover his head, goes, when she goes best, stark naked ; but Falsehood has ever a cloak for the rain. You see likewise, that the lion, being the king of beasts ; the horse, being the lustiest creature ; the unicorn, whose horn is worth half a city ; all these go with no more clothes on their backs, than what nature hath bestowed upon them; but your baboons, and your jackanapes, being the scum and rascality of all the hedge-creepers, they go in jerkins and mandilions,. Marry how? They are put into these rags only in mockery. Oh beware therefore both what you wear, and how you wear it ; and let this heavenly reason move you never to be handsome ! For, when the sun is arising out of his bed, does not the element seem more glorious then, being only in gray, than at noon, when he's in all his bravery ? It were 'madness to deny it. What man would not gladly see a beautiful woman naked, or at least with nothing but a lawn, or some loose thing over her ; and even highly lift her up for being so ? Shall we then abhor that in ourselves, which we admire and hold to be so excellent in others ? Absit. 26 Cljapter in* How a young Gallant should warm himself by the Jire ; how attire himself. 'The description of a Man's Head : the praise of Long Hair. UT if, as it often happens unless the year catch the sweating sickness, the morning, hke charity waxing cold, thrust his frosty fingers into thy bosom, pinching thee black and blue with her nails made of ice, like an invisible goblin ; so that thy teeth, as if thou wert singing prick§jpng, stand coldly quavering in thy head, and leap up and down like the nimble jacks of a pair of virginals ; be then as swift as a whirlwind, and as boisterous in tossing all thy clothes in a rude heap together ; with which bundle filling. thine arms, step bravely forth, crying: "Room! What a coil keep you about the fire!" The more are set round about it, the more is thy com- mendation, if thou either bluntly ridest over their shoulders, or tumblest aside their stools to creep into the chimney- corner: there toast thy body till thy scorched shin be speckled all over, being stained with more motley colours than are to be seen on the right side of the rainbow. 27 Neither shall it be fit for the state of thy health to put on thy apparel, till, by sitting in that hothouse of the chimney, thou feelest the fat dew of jhy_body^Jike. basting, run trickling down thy si des^' ibf by that means thou mSyst lawfiilly~~boast7 that thou livest.by the sweat of thy b rows. At for thy stockings and shoes; so wear them, that all pien may point at thee, and make thee fameu«~-byLjiiat ^glorious name of a malcontent.. Or, if thy quicksilver can Vun so far on thy errand as to fetch thee boots out of St. Martin's, let it be thy prudence to have the tops of them wide as the mouth of a wallet, and those with fringed boot- hose over them to hang down to thy ankles. Doves are accounted innocent and loving creatures ; thou, in observing this fashion, shalt seem to be a rough-footed .dove, anc^ be lield as innocent. Besides, the strawling, which^of necessity so much leather between thy legs must put thee into, will be thought not to grow from thy disease, but from that gentlemanlike habit. Having thus apparelled thee from top to toe, according to that simple fashion, which the best goosecaps in Europe strive to imitate ; it is now high time for me to have a blow at thy head, which I will not cut off with sharp documents, but rather set it on faster ; bestowing upon it such excellent carving, that, if all the wise men of Gotham should lay their heads together, their jobbernowls should not be able to compare with thine. " To maintain therefore that sconce of thine strongly guarded and in good reparation, never suffer comb tO' fasten his teeth there : let thy hair grow thick and bushy, like a forest or some wilderness ; lest those six-footed creatures that 28 breed in it, and are tenants to that crown-land of thine, be hunted to death by every base barbarous barber ; and so that delicate and tickling pleasure of scratching be utterly taken from thee : for the head is a house built for reason to dwell in, and thus is the tenement framed. The two eyes are the glass windows, at which light disperses itself into every room, having goodly penthouses of hair to overshadow them : as for thejoQse ; though some, most injuriously and improperly, make it serve for an Indian chimney ; yet surely it is rightly a bridge with two arches, under which are neat passages to convey as well perfumes to air and sweeten every chamber, as to carry away all noisome filth that is swept out of unclean corners : the cherry lips open, like the new-painted gates of a Lord Mayor's house, to take in provision: the tongue is a bell, hanging just under the middle of the roof; and, lest it should be rung out too deep (as sometimes it is when women have a peal, whereas it was cast by the first founder but only to toll softly) there are two even rows of ivory pegs, like pales, set to keep it in : the ears are two music-rooms, into which as well good sounds as bad descend down two narrow pair of stairs, that for all the world have crooked windings like those that lead to the top of Paul's steeple ; and, because when the tunes are once gotten in, they should not too quickly slip out, all the walls of both places are plastered with yellow wax round about them. Now as the fairest lodging, though it be furnished with walls, chimnies, cham- bers, and all other parts of architecture, yet, if the ceiling be wanting, it stands subject to rain, and so consequently to ruin; so would this goodly palace, which we have modelled out unto you, be but a cold and bald habitation, were not the 29 top of it rarely covered. Nature therefore has played the tiler, and given it a most curious covering ; or, to speak more properly, she has thatched it all over ; and that thatching is hair. If then thou desirest to reserve that fee-simple of wit, thy head, for thee and the lawful heirs of thy body ; play neither the scurvy part of the Frenchman, that plucks up all by the roots ; nor that of the spending Englishman, who, to maintain a paltry warren of unprofitable conies, d:isimp,arks the stately swift-footed wild deer : but let thine receive his full growth, that thou mayest safely and wisely brag 'tis thine own bush natural. And withal consider ; that, as those trees of cobweb lawn, woven by spinners the fresh May-mornings, do dress the curled heads of the mountains, and adorn the swelling bosoms of the valleys ; or, as those snowy fleeces, which the naked briar steals from the innocent nibbling sheep, to make himself a warm winter livery, are to either of them both an excellent ornament : so make thou account, that, to have feathers sticking here and there on thy head will embellish, and set thy crown out rarely. None dare upbraid thee, that like a beggar thou hast lien on straw, or like a travelling pedlar upon musty flocks ; for those feathers will rise up as witnesses to choke him that says so, and to prove that thy bed was of the softest down. When your noblest gallants consecrate their hours to their mistresses and to revelling, they wear feathers then chiefly in their hats, being one of the fairest ensigns of their bravery : but thou, a reveller and a mistress-server all the year, by wearing feathers in thy hair ; whose length before the rigorous edge of any puritanical pair of scissors should 3° shorten the breadth of a finger, let the three housewifely spinsters of destiny rather curtail the thread of thy life. Oh, no ! L ong hair is the only net that women spread aj)roadl t o entrap men in : and why should not men be as far abovej women in that commodity, as they go beyond men in others ?i The merry Greeks were called KaptiKo/nowvrsg (long-haired). Lose not thou, being an honest Trojan, that honour ; sithence it will more fairly become thee. Grass is the hair of the earth, which, so long as it is suffered to grow, it becomes the wearer, and carries a most pleasing colour ; but when the sunburnt clown makes his mows at it, and like a barber shaves it off to the stumps ; then it withers, and is good for nothing but to be trussed up and thrown amongst jades. IJo w ug lYJS-Jwbald pate ! : Jt looks like a face wanting^j^nose, or like ground eaten bare with th^'arTows-of-aTChers': whereas a head all hid in hair gives even to a most wicked face a sweet proportion, and looks like a meadow newly married to the spring ; which beauty in men the Turks envying, they no sooner lay hold on a Christian, but the first mark they set upon him, to make him know he's a slave, is to shave off all his hair close to the skull. A Mahommedan cruelty, there- fore, is it to stuff breeches and tennis-balls with that, which, when 'tis once lost, all the hare-hunters in the world may sweat their hearts out, and yet hardly catch it again. You then, to whom chastity has given an heir apparent, take order that it may be apparent ; and, to that purpose, let it play openly with the lascivious wind, even on the top of your shoulder;|g^ . Experience cries out in every city, that those selfsame efiticaFSaturhists, whose hair is shorter than their eyebrows, take a pride to have their hoary beards hang 31 slavering like a dozen of fox-tails down so low as their middle. But, alas, why should the chins and lips of old men lick up that excrement, which they violently clip away from the heads of young men ? Is it because those long besoms, their beards, with sweeping the soft bosoms of their beautiful young wives, may tickle their tender breasts, and make some amends for their masters' unrecoverable dulness ? No, no ! There hangs more at the ends of those long grey hairs, than all the world can come to the knowledge of. Certain I am, that, when none but the golden age went current upon earth, it was higher treason to clip hair, than to clip money ; the comb and scissors were condemned to the currying of hackneys ; he was disfranchised for ever, that did but put on a barber's apron. Man, woman, and child wore then hair longer than a lawsuit : every head, when it stood bare or un- covered, looked like a butter-box's noul, having his thrummed cap on. It was free for all nations to have shaggy pates, as it is now only for the Irishman. But, since this polling and shaving world crept up, locks were locked up, and hair fell to decay. Revive thou, therefore, the old, buried fashion ; and, in scorn of periwigs and sheepshearing, keep thou that quilted head-piece on continually. Long hair will make thee look dreadfully to thine enemies, and manly to thy friends : it is, in peace, an ornament ; in war, a strong helmet : it blunts the edge of a sword, and deads the leaden thump of a bullet : in winter, it is a warm nightcap ; in summer, a cooling fan of feathers. 32 Cljapter tt). How a Gallant should behave himself in Paurs Walks. EING weary with sailing up and down alongst these shores of Barbaria, here let us cast our anchor, and nimbly leap to land in our coasts, whose fresh air shall be so much the more pleasing to us, if the ninnyhammer, ivhose per- fection we labour to set forth, have so much foolish wit left him as to choose the place where to sjick_ iij : for that true humorous gallant that desires to pour hims§Jf, ,\nto. all, l^^shipns (if his ambition ^' — ^ " ^ '^complimerit J itself ) J rnust , a^ \A " raiks, as*^to be various in his sara be such, to excel even well practise to diminish his walks, aslo be various in his safads, •curious in his tobacco, or ingenious in the trussing up of a new Scotch hose; all which virtues are excellent, and able to maintain him ; especially if the old worm-eaten farmer, his father, be dead^and left him five hundred a year, only to keep an Irish noboyTan Irish horseboy, and himself like a gentleman. He the/efore that would strive to fashion his legs to his silk stockir\gs, and,, garters, let him wliiff down these once get but to walk by the book (and I see no reason but he may, as well as fight by the book) Paul's may be proud of his prqud gait to^his brpad^ hese observations:' for, if he' D 33 him ; Will Clarke shall ring forth ehcomiums in his honour ; John in Paul's churchyard shall fit his head for an excellent block ; whilst all the inns of court rejoice to behold his most handsome calf. ^ a 41 ^ \ Your mediterranean aisle is the nthe only gallery, wherein the pictures of all your true fashionate and cornplemental Gulls are, and ought to be hung up. Into that gallery carry your neat body ; but take heed you pick out such an hour, when the main shoal of islanders are swimming up and down. And first observe your doors of entrance, and your exit ; not much unlike the players at the theatres ; keeping your decorums, even in fantasticality. As for example : if you prove to be a northern gentleman, I would wish you to pass through the north door, more often especially than any or the other ; and so, according to your countries, take note of your entrances. Now for your venturing into the walk. Be circumspect and wary what pillar you come in at ; and take heed in any case, as you love^tbe reputation of your honour, that you avoid the serving-man'^^og,"'and approach not within five fathom of that pillar ; but bend your course directly in the middle line, that the whole body of the church may appear to be yours ; where, in view of all, you may publish your suit in what manner you affect most, either with the slide of your cloak from the one shoulder — and then you must, as 'twere in anger, suddenly snatch at the middle of the inside, if it be taffeta at the least, and so by that means your costly lining is betrayed ; or else by the pretty advantage of com- pliment. But one note by the way do I especially woo you to, the neglect of which makes many of our gallants cheap 34 and ordinary, that by no means you be seen above four turns; , but in the fifth make yourself away, either in some of the sempstersl shops, the new tobacco-office, or amongst the book- sellers,^ where, if you cannot read, exercise your smoke, and inquire who has writ against this divine weed, &c. For this withdrawing yourself a little will much benefit your suit, which else, by too long walking, would be.. stale tcj, the whole spectators: but howsoever, ifPaul'sJaCKS' De''orice up with their elbows, and quarrelling to strike eleven ; as soon as ever the clock has parted them,, and ended the fray with his hammer, let not the. Duke's g;allef"y fcontain you any longer, but pass away apace in open view : in which departure, if by chance you either encounter, or aloof off throw your inquisi- tive eye upon any knight or squire, being your familiar, salute him not by his name of Sir such a one, or so ; but call him Ned, or Jack, &c. This will set off your estimation with great men : and if, though there be a dozen companies between you, 'tis the better, he call aloud to you, for that's most genteel, to know where he shall find you at two o'clock; tell him at such an ordinary, or such ; and be sure to name those that are dearest, and whither none but your gallants resort. After dinner you may appear again, having translated yourself out of your English cloth cloak into a light Turkey grogram, if you have that happiness of shifting ; and then be seen, for a turn or two, to correct your teeth with some quill or silver instrument, and to cleanse your gums with a wrought handkercher : it skills not whether you dined, or no — that's best known to your stomach — or in what place you dined ; though it were with cheese, of your own mother's making, in your chamber or study. 35 Now if you chance to be a gallant not much crossed among citizens; that is, a gallant in the mercer's books, exalted for satins and velvets ; if you be not so much blest to be crossed (as I hold it the greatest blessing in the world to be great in no man's books), your Paul's walk is your only refuge : the Duke's tomb is a sanctuary, and will keep you alive from worms, and land-rats, that long to be feeding on your carcass : there you may spend your legs in winter a whole afternoon ; converse, plot, laugh, and talk anything ; jest at your creditor, even to his face ; and in the evening, even by lamp-light,, steal out, and so cozen a whole covey of abominable catchpole^.' ■ ;\ ' ' '"' Never be seen to mount the steps jijto the choir, but upon a high festival-day, to prefer the fashion of your doublet ; and especially if the singing-boys seem to take note of you ; for they are able to buzz your praises above their anthems, if their voices have not lost their maidenheads : but be sure your silver spurs dog your heels, and then the boys will swarm about you like so many white butterflies ; when you in the open choir shall draw forth a perfumed embroidered purse, the glorious sight of which will entice^^any countrymen from their devotion to wondering; and quoit silver into the boys' hands, that it may be heard above the first lesson, although it be read in a voice as big as one of the great organs. This noble and notable act being performed, you are to vanish presently out of the choir, and to appear again in the walk : but in any wise be not observed to tread there long alone ; for fear you be suspected to be a gallant cashiered from the society of captains and fighters. 36 Suck this humour up especially : put off to none, unless his hatband be of a newer fashion than yours, and thrqe degrees quainter: but for him that wears a trebled_cypiress about'his hat, though he were an alderman's son, never move to him; for he's suspected to be worse than a Gull, and not worth the putting off to, that cannot qbseiye the, time of tlis hajjband, nor know what fashioned olock is most kin to his head: for, in my opinion, that brain that cannot choose his felt well, being the head-ornament, must needs pour folly into all the rest of the members, and be an absolute confirmed fool in summd Mali. All the diseased horses in a tedious siege cannot shew so many fashions, as are to be seen for nothing, every day, in Duke Humphrey's walk. If therefore you determine to enter into a new suit, warn your tailor to attend you in Paul's, who, with his hat in his hand, shall like a spy discover the stuff, colour, and fashion of any doublet or hose that dare be seen there ; and stepping behind a pillar to fill his table-books with those notes, will presently send you into the world an accomplished man ; by which means you shall wear your clothes in print with the first edition. But if fortune favour you so much as to make you no more than a mere country gentleman, or but some three degrees removed from him (for which I should be very sorry, because your London experience will cost you dear before you shall have the wit to know what you are) then take this lesson along with you : the first time that you venture into Paul's, pass through the body of the church like a porter, yet presume not to fetch so much as one wJiql^ turn in the middle aisle, no, nor to cast an eye to Siquts door',* 'pasted and pTiistered up with serving-men's supplications, before you have paid tribute to 37 the top of Paul's steeple with a single penny ; and, when you are mounted there, take heed how you look down into the yard, for the rails are as rotten as your great-grandfather; and thereupon it will not be amiss if you inquire how Kit Woqd- roffe_ durst vault over, and what reason he had for't, to put his neck in hazard of reparations. From hence you may descend to talk about the horse that went up, and strive, if you can, to know his keeper; take the day of the month, and the number of the steps, and suffer yourself to believe verily that it was not a horse, but something else in the likeness of one: which wonders you may publish, when you return into the country, to the great amazement of all farmers' daughters, that will almost swound at the report, and never recover till their bans be asked twice in the church. But I have not left you yet. Before you come down again, I would desire you to draw your knife, and grave your name, or, for want of a name, the mark which you clap on your sheep, in great characters upon the leads, by a number of your brethren, both citizens and country gentlemen : and so you shall be sure to have your name lie in a coffin of lead, when yourself shall be wrapt in a winding-sheet : and indeed the top of Paul's contains more names than Stow's Chronicle. These lofty tricks being played, and you, thanks to your feet, being safely arrived at the stairs' foot again ; your next worthy work is to repair to my Lord Chancellor's tomb, and, if you can but reasonably spell, bestow some time upon the reading of Sir Philip Sidney's brief epitaph ; in the compass of an hour you may make shift to stumble it out. The great dial is your last monument : there bestow some half of the three-score minutes, to observe the sauciness of the jacks that 38 are above the man in the moon there ; the strangeness of the motion will quit your labour. Besides, you may here have fit occasion to discover your watch, by taking it forth and setting the wheels to the time of Paul's ; which, I assure you, goes truer by five notes than St. Sepulchre's chimes. The benefit that will arise from hence is this, that you publish your charge in maintaining a gilded clock ; and withal the world shall know that you are a timepleaser. By this I imagine you have walked your bellyful ; and thereupon being weary, or, which rather I believe, being most gentlemanlike hungry, it is fit that I brought you into the Duke ; so, because he follows the fashion of great men, in keeping no house, and ,that therefore you must go seek your dinner, suffer me to take you by the hand, and lead you into an ordinary. 39 How a young Gallant should behave himself in an Ordinary. IRST, having diligently inquired out an ordinary of the largest reckoning, whither most of your courtly gallants do resort, let it be your use to repair thither some half hour after eleven ; for then you shall find most of your fashion- mongers planted in the room waiting for meat. Ride thither upon your Galloway nag, or your Spanish jennet, a swift ambling pace, in your hose and doublet (gilt rapier and poniard bestowed in their places), and your French lackey carrying your cloak, and running before you ; or rather in a coach, for that will both hide you from the basilisk eyes of your creditors, and outrun a whole kennel of bitter-mouthed sergeants. Being arriyed in the room, salute not any but those of your acquaintance : walk up and down by the rest as scorn- fully and as carelessly as a gentleman-usher : select some friend, having first thrown off your cloak, to walk up and down the room with you ; let him be suited, if you can, worse by far than yourself ; he will be a foil to you ; and this will be a means to publish your clothes better than Paul's, a tennis-court, or a playhouse : discourse as loud as you can, no matter to what purpose ; if you but make a noise, and laugh in fashion, and have a good sour face to promise quarrelling, you shall be much observed. 41 If you be a soldier, talk, how often you have been in action ; as the Portingale voyage, Cales voyage, the Island voyage ; besides some eight or nine employments in Ireland, and the Low Countries: then you may discourse how honourably your Grave used you (observe that you call your Grave Maurice " your Grave ") ; how often you have drunk with Count such a one, and such a Count, on your knees to your Grave's health ; and let it be your virtue to give place neither to St. Kynock, nor to any Dutchman whatsoever in the seventeen provinces, for that soldier's compliment of drinking. And, if you perceive that the un- travelled company about you take this down well, ply them with more such stuff, as, how you have interpreted between the French king and a great lord of Barbary, when they have been drinking healths together : and that will be an excellent occasion to publish your languages, if you have them ; if not, get some fragments of French, or small parcels of Italian, to fling about the table ; but beware how you speak any Latin there ; your ordinary most commonly hath no more to do with Latin, than a desperate town of garrison hath. If you be a courtier, discourse of the obtaining of suits ; of your mistress's favours, &c. Make inquiry, if any gentle- man at board have any suit, to get which he would use the good means of a great man's interest with the king ; and withal, if you have not so much grace left in you as to blush, that you are, thanks to your stars, in mighty credit ; though in your own conscience you know, and are guilty to yourself, that you dare not, but only upon the privileges of handsome clothes, presume to peep into the presence. Demand if there be any gentleman, whom any there is acquainted with, that 42 is troubled with two offices, or any vicar with two church- livings ; which will politicly insinuate, that your inquiry after them is because you have good means to obtain them. Yea ; and rather than your tongue should not be heard in the room, but that you should sit like an ass, with your finger in your mouth, and speak nothing, discourse how often this lady hath sent her coach for you, and how often you have sweat in the tennis-court with that great lord ; for indeed the sweating together in France (I mean the society of tennis) is a great argument of most dear affection, even between noblemen and peasants. If you be a poet, and come into the ordinary (though it can be no great glory to be an ordinary poet), order your- self _thus. Observe no man ; doff not cap to that gentleman to-day at dinner, to whom, not two nights since, you were beholden for a supper ; but, after a turn or two in the room, take occasion, pulling out your gloves, to have some epigram, or satire, or sonnet fastened in one of them, that may, as it were unwittingly to you, offer itself to the gentlemen ; they will presently desire it ; but, without much conjuration from them, and a pretty kind of counterfeit loathness in yourself, do not read it; and, though it be none of your own, swear you made it. Marry, if you chance to get into your hands any witty thing of another man's that is somewhat better ; I would counsel you then, if demand be made who composed it, you may say : " Faith, a learned gentleman, a very worthy friend." And this seeming to lay it on another man will be counted either modesty in you, or a sign that you are not ambitious of praise; or else that you dare not take it upon you, for fear of the sharpness it carries with it. Besides, it will add 43 much to your fame to let your tongue walk faster than your teeth, though you be never so hungry : and, rather than you should sit like a dumb coxcomb, to repeat by heart either some verses of your own, or of any other man's, stretching even very good lines upon the rack of censure ; though it be against all law, honesty, or conscience : it may chance save you the price of your ordinary, and beget you other sup- plements. Marry ; I would further entreat our poet to be in league with the mistress of the ordinary ; because from her, upon condition that he will but rime knights and young gentlemen to her house, and maintain the table in good fooling, he may easily make up his mouth at her cost, gratis. Thus much for particular men. But in general let all that are in ordinary pay march after the sound of these directions. Before the meat come smoking to the board, our gallant must draw out his tobacco-box, the ladle for the cold snufF into the nostril, the tongs and prining iron ; all which artillery may be of gold or silver, if he can reach to the price of it ; it will be a reasonable useful pawn at all times, when the current of his money falls out to run low. And here you must observe to know in what state tobacco is in town, better than the merchants ; and to discourse of the poticaries where it is to be sold ; and to be able to speak of their wines, as readily as the poticary himself reading the barbarous hand of a doctor : then let him shew his several tricks in taking it, as the whifF, the ring, &c., for these are compliments that gain gentlemen no mean respect, and for which indeed they are more worthily noted, I ensure you, than for any skill that they have in learning. 44 When you are set down to dinner, you must eat as impudently as can be, for that's most gentlemanlike : when your knight is upon his stewed mutton, be you presently, though you be but a captain, in the bosom of your goose ; and, when your justice of peace is knuckledeep in goose, you may, without disparagement to your blood, though you have a lady to your mother, fall very manfully to your woodcocks. ' You may rise in dinner-time to ask for a close-stool, protesting to all the gentlemen that it costs you a hundred pound a year in physic, besides the annual pension which your wife allows her doctor ; and, if you please, you may, as your great French lord doth, invite some special friend of yours from the table, to hold discourse with you as you sit in that withdrawing-chamber ; from whence being returned again to the board, you shall sharpen the wits of all the eating gallants about you, and do them great pleasure to ask what pamphlets or poems a man might think fittest to wipe" his tail with ; (marry, this talk will be somewhat foul, if you carry not a strong perfume about you ;) and, in propounding this question, you may abuse the works of any man ; deprave his writings that you cannot equal ; and purchase to yourself in time the terrible name of a severe critic ; nay, and be one of the college, if you'll be liberal enough, and, when your turn comes, pay for their suppers. After dinner, every man as his business leads him, some to dice, some to drabs, some to plays, some to take up friends in the court, some to take up money in the city, some to lend testers in Paul's, others to borrow crowns upon the Exchange: and thus, as the people is said to be a beast of many heads, 45 yet all those heads like hydras', ever growing, as various in their horns as wondrous in their budding and branching ; so, in an ordinary, you shall find the variety of a whole kingdom in a few apes of the kingdom. You must not swear in your dicing ; for that argues a violent impatience to depart from your money, and in time will betray a man's need. Take heed of it. No ; whether you be at primero, or hazard, you shall sit as patiently, though you lose a whole half-year's exhibition, as a disarmed gentle- man does when he's in the unmerciful fingers of sergeants. Marry ; I will allow you to sweat privately, and tear six or seven score pair of cards, be the damnation of some dozen or twenty bale of dice, and forswear play a thousand times in an hour ; but not swear. Dice yourself into your shirt ; and, if you have a beard that your friend will lend but an angel upon, shave it off, and pawn that, rather than to go home blind to your lodging. Further it is to be remembered; he that is a great gamester may be trusted for a quarter's board at all times ; and apparel provided, if need be. At your twelvepenny ordinary, you may give any justice of peace, or young knight, if he sit but one degree towards the equinoctial of the saltcellar, leave to pay for the wine ; and he shall not refuse it, though it be a week before the receiving of his quarter's rent, which is a time albeit of good hope, yet of present necessity. There is another ordinary, to which your London usurer, your stale bachelor, and your thrifty attorney do resort ; the price threepence ; the rooms as full of company as a jail ; and indeed divided into several wards, like the beds of an hospital. The compliment between these is not much, their 46 words few ; for the belly hath no ears : every man's eye here is upon the other man's trencher ; to note whether his fellow lurch him, or no : if they chance to discourse, it is of nothing but of statutes, bonds, recognizances, fines, recoveries, audits, rents, subsidies, sureties, inclosures, liveries, indictments, outlawries, feoffments, judgments, commissions, bankerouts, amercements, and of such horrible matter ; that when a lieutenant dines with his punk in the next room, he thinks verily the men are conjuring. I can find nothing at this ordinary worthy the sitting down for ; therefore the cloth shall be taken away, and those, that are thought good enough to be guests here, shall be too base to be waiters at your grand ordinary ; at which your gallant tastes these com- modities : he shall fare well, enjoy good company, receive all the news ere the post can deliver his packet, be perfect where the best bawdy-houses stand, proclaim his good clothes, know this man to drink well, that to feed grossly, the other to swagger roughly ; he shall, if he be minded to travel, put out money upon his return, and have hands enough to receive it upon any terms of repayment ; and no question, if he be poor, he shall now and then light upon some Gull or other whom he may skeliiej:, after the genteel fashion, of money. By this time the parings of fruit and cheese are in the voider; cards and dice lie stinking in the fire; the guests are all up; the gilt rapiers ready to be hanged ; the French lackey and Irish footboy shrugging at the doors, with their masters' hobby-horses, to ride to the new play: that's the rendezvous: thither they are galloped in post. Let us take a pair of oars, and now lustily after them. M How a Gallant should behave himself in a Playhouse. HE theatre is your poets' Royal Ex- change, upon which their muses, that are now turned to merchants, meeting, barter away that light commodity of words for a lighter ware than words — plaudities, and the breath of the great beast ; which, like the threatenings of two cowards, vanish all into air. Players are their factors, who put away the stuff, and make the best of it they possibly can, as indeed 'tis their parts so to do. Your gallant, your courtier, and your captain had wont to.bet^e ,^ soundest paymasters, and, I think, are still the surest chkprhen: and these, by means that their heads are well stocked, deal upon this comical freight by the gross; when your groundling and gallery-commoner buys his sport by the penny, and, like a haggler, is glad to utter it again by retailing. Sithence then the place is so free in entertainment, allowing a stool as well to the farmer's son as to your templar; that your stinkard has the selfsame liberty to be there in his tobacco-Iumes, which your sweet courtier hath ; and that your carman and tinker claim as strong a voice in their suffrage, and sit to give judgement on the play's life „p,nd death, as well as the proudest Momusarpiohg the tribe of critic : it is fit that he, whom the most tailors' bills do 49 \ make room for, when he comes, should not be basely, like a viol, cased up in a corner. Whether therefore the gatherers of the public or private playhouse stand to receive the afternoon's rent; let our gallant, having paid it, presently advance himself up to the throne of the stage ; I mean not into the lords' room, which is now but the stage's suburbs ; no, those boxes, by the iniquity of custom, conspiracy of waiting-women and gentlemen- ushers that there sweat together, and the covetousness of sharers, are contemptibly thrust into the rear; and much new satin is there damned, by being smothered to death in darkness. But on the very rushes where the comedy is to dance, yea, and under the state of Cambyses himself, must our feathered estrich, like a piece of ordnance, be planted valiantly, because impudently, beating down the mews and hisses of the opposed rascality. For do but cast up a reckoning, what large comings-in are pursed up by sitting on the stage. First, a conspicuous eminence is gotten ; by which means, the best and most essential parts of a gallant, good clothes, a proportionable leg, white hand, the Persian lock, and a tolerable beard, are perfectly revealed. By sitting on the stage, you have a signed patent to engross the whole comn3fa4ity \of censure, may lawfully presume to be a girder, anct stand at the helm to steer the passage of scenes ; yet no man shall once offer to hinder you from obtaining the title of an insolent, over-weening coxcomb. By sitting on the stage, you may, without travelling for it, at the very next door ask whose play it is ; and, by 5° that quest of inquiry, the law warrants you to avoid much mistaking : if you know not the author, you may rail against him ; and peradventure so behave yourself, that you may enforce the author to know you. By sitting on the stage, if you be a knight, you may happily get you a mistress ; if a mere Fleet-street gentleman, a wife ; but assure yourself, by continual residence, you are the first and principal man in election to begin the number of " We three." By spreading your body on the stage, and by being a justice in examining of plays, you shall put yourself into such true scenical authority, that some poet shall not dare to present his muse rudely upon your eyes, without having first unmasked her, rifled her, and discovered all her bare and most mystical parts before you at a tavern ; when you most knightly shall, for his pains, pay for both their suppers. By sitting on the stage, you may, with small cost, purchase the dear acquaintance of the boys; have a good stool for sixpence; at any time know what particular part any of the infants present ; get your match lighted ; examine the play- suits' lace, and perhaps win wagers upon laying 'tis copper ; &c. And to conclude ; whether you be a fool, or a justice of peace; a cuckold, or^a captain; a Lord Mayor's son, or a dawcock ; a knave, or an under-sheriff; of what stamp soever you be ; current or counterfeit ; the stage, like time, will bring you to most perfect light, and lay you open. Neither are you to be hunted from thence; though the scarecrows in the yard hoot at you, hiss at you, spit at you, yea, throw dirt even in your teeth : 'tis most gentlemanlike 51 patience to endure all this, and to laugh at the silly animals. But if the rabble, with a full throat, cry : " Away with the fool ! " you were worse than a madman to tarry by it ; for the gentleman and the fool should never sit on the stage together. Marry ; let this observation go hand in hand with the rest ; or rather, like a country serving-man, some five yards before them. Present not yourself on the stage, especially at a new play, until the quaking Prologue hath by rubbing got colour into his cheeks, and is ready to give the trumpets their cue that he's upon point to enter ; for then it is time, as though you were one of the properties, or that you dropped out of the hangings, to creep from behind the arras, with your tripos or three-footed stool in one hand, and a teston mounted between a forefinger and a thumb in the other; for, if you should bestow your person upon the vulgar, when the belly of the house is but half full, your apparel is quite eaten up, the fashion lost, and the proportion of your body in more danger to .be devoured than if it were served up in the Counter amongst the poultry : avoid that as you would the ba^stone. It shall crown you with rich commendation, to laugh aloud in the midst of the most serious and saddest scene of the terriblest tragedy, and to let that clapper, your tongue, be tossed so high, that all the house may ring of it ; your lords use it ; your knights are apes to the lords, and do so too ; your inn-o'-court man is zany to the knights, and (many very scurvily) comes likewise limping after it : be thou a beagle to them all, and never lin snuffing till you have scented them : for by talking and laughing, like a ploughman in a morris, you heap Pelion upon Ossa, glory 52 upon glory : as first, all the eyes in the galleries will leave walking after the players, and only follow you, the simplest dolt in the house snatches up your name, and, when he meets you in the streets, or that you fall into his hands in the middle of a watch, his word shall be taken for you; he'll cry " He's such a gallant," and you pass : secondly, you publish your temperance to the world, in that you seem not to resort thither to taste vain pleasures with a hungry appetite ; but only as a gentleman to spend a foolish hour or two, because you can do nothing else : thirdly, you mightily disrelish the audience, and disgrace the author : marry; you take up, though it be at the worst hand, a strong opinion of your own judgement, and enforce the poet to take pity of your weakness, and, by some dedicated sonnet, to bring you into a better paradise, only to stop your mouth. If you can,je ither fo i^love or money, provide yourself a lodging by the water-side ; for, above the conveniency it brings to^shun shoulder-clapping, and to ship away your cockatrice: betimes in the morning, it adds a kind of state unto you to be carried from thence to the stairs of your playhouse. Hate a sculler, (remember that,) worse than to be acquainted with one o' th' scullery. No your oars are your only seatcrabs, board them, and take heed Y9^j||pver go twice together with one pair; often shiftir y(|j| jjpr^reat credit to gentlemen, and that dividing of mNp^'^ will make the poor water-snakes be ready to puli^mi in pieces to enjoy your custom. No matter whether, upon landing, you have money, or no ; you may swim in twenty of their boats over the river upon ticket: marry; when silver comes in, remember to pay treble their fare ; and it will make your 53 flounder-catchers to send more thanks after you when you do not draw, than when you do ; for they know it will be their own another day. Before the play begins, fall to cards ; you may win or lose, as fencers do in a prize, and beat one another by con- federacy, yet share the money when you meet at supper : notwithstanding, to gull the ragamuffins that stand aloof gaping at you, throw the cards, having first torn four or five of them, round about the stage, just upon the third sound, us though you had lost ; it skills not if the four knaves lie on their backs, and outface the audience ; there's none such fools as dare take exceptions at them ; because, ere the play go off, better knaves than they will fall into the company. Now, sir ; if the writer be a fellow that hath either epigrammed you, or hath had a flirt at your mistress, or hath brought either your feather, or your red beard, or your little legs, &c. on the stage ; you shall disgrace him worse than by tossing him in a blanket, or giving him the bastinado , in a tavern, if, in the middle of his play, be it pastoral or comedy, moral or tragedy, you rise with a screwed and discontented face from your stool to be gone ; no matter whether the scenes be good, or no ; the better they are, the worse do you distaste them : and, being on your feet, sneak not away like a coward ; but salute all your gentle acquain- tance, that are spread either on the rjashes, or on stools about you ; and draw what troop you can from the stage after you ; the mimics are beholden to you for allowing them elbow- room : their poet cries, perhaps, "a pox go with you"; but care not you for that ; there's no music without frets. 54 Marry ; if either the company, or indisposition of the weather bind you to sit it out ; my counsel is then that you turn plain ape : take up a rush, and tickle the earnest ears of your fellow gallants, to make other fools fall a laughing; mew at passionate speeches ; blare at merry ; find fault with the music ; whew at the children's action ; whistle at the songs; and, above all, curse the sharers, that whereas the same day you had bestowed forty shillings on an embroidered felt and feather, Scetcli fa^shion, for your mistress in the court, or your punk tti the city, within two hours after you encounter with the very same block on the stage, when the haberdasher swore to you the impression was extant but that morning. To conclude: hoard up the finest play-scraps you can get ; upon which your lean wit may most savourly feed, for want of other stuff, w hen t he-Arcadi-an-aad JEuphuized gentlewo men have th ^ir tonguessharpenjedto_set upori-you; ' that quality, next toyour jh|tt:lecock, isTHeonly furniture to a courtier that's but a new beginner, and is but in his A B C of compliment. The next places that are filled, after the playhouses be emptied, are, or ought to be, taverns ; into a tavern then let us next march, where the brains of one hogshead must be beaten out to make up another. 55 Ct)a|)ter "oil How a Gallant should behave himself in a T'avern. H OSOE VER desires to be a man of good reckoning in the city ; and, like your French lord, to have as many tables furnished as lackies, who, when they keep least, .keep , none ; whether he be a young quat of the first year's revenue; or some austere and sullen-faced steward, who, in despite of a great beard, a satin suit, and a chain of gold wrapt in cypress, proclaims himself to any, but to those to whom his lord owes money, for a rank coxcomb ; or whether he be a country gentleman, that brings his wife up to learn the fashion, see the tombs at Westminster, the lions in the Tower, or to take physic ; or else is some young farmer, who many times makes his wife in the country believe he hath suits in law, because he will come up to his lechery ; be he of what stamp he will that hath money in his purse, and a good conscience to spend it ; my counsel is that he take his continual diet at a tavern, which out of question is the only rendezvous of boon com- pany ; and the drawers the most nimble, the most bold, and most sudden proclaimers of your largest bounty. Having therefore thrust yourself into a case most in fashion, how coarse soever the stuff be, 'tis no matter, so it hold fashion ; you'r office is, if you mean to do your judgement right, to inquire out those taverns which are best customed, S7 whose masters are oftenest drunk (for that confirms their taste, and that they choose wholesome wines), and such as stand furthest from the Counters ; where, landing yourself and your followers, your first compliment shall be to grow most inwardly acquainted with the drawers ; to learn their names, as Jack, and Will, and Tom ; to dive into their in- clinations, as whether this fellow useth to the fencing-school, this to the dancing-school ; whether that young conjurer in hogsheads at midnight keeps a gelding now and then to visit his cockatrice, or whether he love dogs, or be addicted to any other eminent and citizen-like quality ; and protest yourself to be extremely in love, and that you spend much money in a year upon any one of those exercises which you perceive is followed by them. The use which you shall make of this familiarity is this : if you want money five or six days together, you may still pay the reckoning with this most gentlemanlike language, " Boy, fetch me money from the bar" ; and keep yourself most providently from a hungry melancholy in your chamber. Besides, you shall be sure, if there be but one faucet that can betray neat wine to the bar, to have that arraigned before you, sooner than a better and worthier person. The first question you are to make; after the discharging of your pocket of tobacco, and pipes, and the household stuff thereto belonging ; shall be for an inventory of the kitchen : for it were more than most tailor-like, and to be suspected you were in league with some kitchen-wench, to descend yourself, to offend your stomach with the sight of the larder, and, happily, to grease your accoutrements. Having therefore received this bill, you shall, like a captain putting up dead 58 pays, have many salads stand on your table, as it were for blanks to the other more serviceable dishes : and, according to the time of the year, vary your fare ; as capon is a stirring meat sometime, oysters are a swelling meat sometimes, trout a tickling meat sometimes, green goose and woodcock a delicate meat sometimes ; especially in a tavern, where you shall sit in as great state as a churchwarden amongst his poor parishioners at Pentecost or Christmas. For your drink, let not your physician confine you to any one particular liquor ; for as it is requisite that a gentle- man should not always be plodding in one art, but rather be a general scholar, that is, to have a lick at all sorts of learning, and away ; so 'tis not fitting a man should trouble his head with sucking at one grape ; but that he may be able, now there is a general peace, to drink any stranger drunk in his own element of drink, or more properly in his own mist language. Your discourse at the table must be such as that which you utter at your ordinary ; your behaviour the same, but somewhat more careless ; for, where your expence is great, let your modesty be less : and, though you should be mad in a tavern, the largeness of the items will bear with your incivility ; you may, without prick to your conscience, set the want of your wit against the superfluity and sauciness of their reckonings. If you desire not to be haunted with fiddlers ; who by the statute have as much liberty as rogues to travel into any place, having the passport of the house about them ; bring then no women along with you : but, if you love the com- pany of all the drawers, never sup without your cockatrice ; 59 for, having her there, you shall be sure of most officious attendance. Inquire what gallants sup in the next room ; and, if they be any of your acquaintance, do not you, after the city fashion, send them in a pottle of wine, and your name, sweetened in two pitiful papers of sugar, with some filthy apology crammed into the mouth of a drawer ; but rather keep a boy in fee, who under-hand shall proclaim you in every room, what a gallant fellow you are, how much you spend yearly in taverns, what a great gamester, what custom you bring to the house, in what witty discourse you maintain a table, what gentlewomen or citizens' wives you can with a wet finger have at any time to sup with you, and such like ; by which encomiastics of his, they that know you not shall admire you, and think themselves to be brought into a paradise but to be meanly in your acquain- tance ; and, if any of your endeared friends be in the house, and beat the same ivy-bush that yourself does, you may join companies, and be drunk together most publicly. But, in such a deluge of drink, take heed that no man counterfeit himself drunk, to free his purse from the danger of the shot ; 'tis an usual thing now amongst gentlemen ; it had wont be the quality of cockneys : I would advise you to leave so much brains in your head, as to prevent this. When the terrible reckoning, like an indictment, bids you hold up your hand, and that you must answer it at the bar ; you must not abate one penny in any particular ; no, though they reckon cheese to you, when you have neither eaten any, nor could ever abide it, raw or toasted : but cast your eye only upon the totalis, and no further; for to traverse the bill would betray you to be acquainted with the rates of the 60 market : nay more ; it would make the vintners believe you were pater-familias, and kept a house ; which, I assure you, is not now in fashion. If you fall to dice after supper, let the drawers be as familiar with you as your barber, and venture their silver amongst you ; no matter where they had it ; you are to cherish the unthriftness of such young tame pigeons, if you be a right gentleman : for when two are yoked together by the purse-strings, and draw the chariot of madam Prodi- gality ; when one faints in the way and slips his horns, let the other rejoice and laugh at him. At your departure forth the house, to kiss mine hostess over the bar, or to accept of the courtesy of the cellar when 'tis offered you by the drawers, (and you must know that kindness never creeps upon them, but when they see you almost cleft to the shoulders,) or to bid any of the vintners good-night, is as commendable as for a barber after trimming to lave your face with sweet water. To conclude : count it an honour, either to invite, or to be invited to any rifling ; for commonly, though you find much satin there, yet you shall likewise find many citizens' sons, and heirs, and younger brothers there, who smell out such feasts more greedily than tailors hunt upon Sundays after weddings. And let any hook draw you either to a fencer's supper, or to a player's that acts such a part for a wager ; for by this means you shall get experience, by being guilty to their abominable shaving. 6i Cljapter Wl How a Gallant is to behave himself passing through the City, at all Hours of the Night ; and how to pass by any Watch. FTER the sound of pottle-pots is out of your ears ; and that the spirit of wine and tobacco walks in your brain; the tavern door being shut upon your back, cast about to pass through the A/^idest and goodliest streets in the city, '^nd if your means cannot reach to the keeping of a boy, hire one of the drawers to be as a lanthorn unto your feet, and to light you home ; and, still as you approach near any nightwalker that is up as late as yourself, curse and swear, like one that speaks high Dutch, in a lofty voice, because your men have used you so like a rascal in not waiting upon you, and vow the next morning to pull their blue cases over their ears ; though, if your chamber were well searched, you give only sixpence a week to some old woman to make your bed, and that she is all the serving-creatures you give wages to. If you smell a watch, and that you may easily do, for commonly they eat onions to keep them in sleeping, which they account a medicine against cold ; or, if you come within danger of their brown bills ; let him that is your candlestick, and holds up your torch from dropping, for to march after a link is shoe-maker like; let ignis fatuus, I say, being within 63 the reach of the constable's staff, ask aloud, " Sir Giles," — or " Sir Abram," — "will you turn this way, or down that street ? " It skills not, though there be none dubbed in your bunch ; the watch will wink at you, only for the love they bear to arms and knighthood. Marry; if the sentinel and his court of guard stand strictly upon his martial law, and cry "Stand," commanding you to give the word, and to shew reason why your ghost walks so late ; do it in some jest ; for that will show you have a desperate wit, and perhaps make him and his halberdiers afraid to lay foul hands upon you ; or, if you read a mittimus in the constable's book ; counterfeit to be a Frenchman, a Dutchman, or any other nation whose country is in peace with your own, and you may pass the pikes ; for, being not able to understand you, they cannot by the customs of the city take your examination, and so by consequence they have nothing to say to you. If the night be old, and that your lodging be in some place into which no artillery of words can make a breach ; retire, and rather assault the doors of your punk, or, not to speak broken English, your sweet mistress, upon whose white bosom you may languishingly consume the rest of darkness that is left in ravishing though not restorative pleasures, without expences, only by virtue of four or five oaths (when the siege breaks up, and at your marching away with bag and baggage) that the last night you were at dice, and lost so much in gold, so much in silver ; and seem to vex most that two such Elizabeth twenty-shilling pieces, or four such spur-royals, sent you with a cheese and a baked meat from your mother, rid away amongst the rest. By which tragical, yet politic speech, you may not only have 64 your night-work done gratis ; but also you may take diet there the next day, and depart with credit, only upon the bare word of a gentleman to make her restitution. All the way as you pass, especially being approached near some of the gates, talk of none but lords, and such ladies with whom you have played at primero, or danced in the presence, the very same day ; it is a chance to lock up the lips of an inquisitive bellman : and, being arrived at your lodging door, which I would counsel you to choose in some rich citizen's house, salute at parting no man but by the name of " Sir," as though you had supped with knights ; albeit you had none in your company but y omx j^erim^ or your ingle. Happily it will be blown abroad, that you and your shoal of gallants swam through such an ocean of wine, that you danced so much money out at heels, and that in wild- fowl there flew away thus much ; and I assure you, to have the bill of your reckoning lost of purpose, so that it may be published, will make you to be held in dear estimation : only the danger is, if you owe money, and that your revealing gets your creditors by the ears; for then, look to have a peal of ordnance thundering at your chamber-door the next morning. But if either your tailor, mercer, haberdasher, silkman, cutter, linen-draper, or sempster, stand like a guard of Switzers about your lodging, watching your uprising, or, if they miss of that, your down-lying in one of the Counters; you have no means to avoid the galling of their small-shot than by sending out a light-horseman to call your poticary to your aid, who, encountering this desperate band of your creditors only with two or three glasses in his hand, as F 65 though that day you purged, is able to drive them all to their holes like so many foxes; for the name of taking physic is a sufficient quietus est to any endangered gentle- man, and gives an acquittance, for the time, to them all; though the twelve companies stand with their hoods to attend your coming forth, and their officers with them. I could now fetch you about noon, the hour which I prescribed you before to rise at, out of your chamber, and carry you with me into Paul's churchyard ; where, planting yourself in a stationer's shop, many instructions are to be given you, what books to call for, how to censure of new books, how to mew at the old, how to look in your tables and inquire for such and such Greek, French, Italian, or Spanish authors, whose names you have there, but whom your mother for pity would not give you so much wit as to understand. From thence you should blow yourself into the tobacco-ordinary, where you are likewise to spend your judgement, like a quack-salver, upon that mystical wonder ; to be able to discourse whether your cane or your pudding be sweetest, and which pipe has the best bore, and which burns black, which breaks in the burning, &c. Or, if you itch to step into the barber's, a whole dictionary cannot afford more words to set down notes what dialogues you are to maintain, whilst you are doctor of the chair there. After your shaving, I could breathe you in a fence-school, and out of that cudgel you into a dancing-school ; in both which I could weary you, by shewing you more tricks than are in five galleries, or fifteen prizes. And, to close up the stomach of this feast, I could make cockneys, whose fathers have left them well, acknowledge themselves infinitely beholden to 66 me, for teaching them by familiar demonstration how to spend their patrimony, and to get themselves names, when their fathers are dead and rotten. But, lest too many dishes should cast you into a surfeit, I will now take away ; yet so that, if I perceive you relish this well, the rest shall be in time prepared for you. Farewell. FINIS. 67 NOTES So far as possible^ all explanatory notes have been incorporated in the Glossary. The edition 0/1862 and that edited by Hindley in 1872 correspond in general with Dr. Nott's. The readings of these editions are therefore only given when they differ from his. Grosarfs text, which preserves the old spelling, follows the original more closely. I have therefore given his readings only when he accepted the emendation of an earlier editor. In other cases it is to be understood that he kept the text of the Quarto. The text given by Professor Saintsbury seems to be merely a reprint of Grosarfs. I have therefore not recorded its readings. 3. 12. many books. Grobianus has only three books; pro- bably chapters are meant, 5. The titles of the chapters as given here do not correspond exactly with the actual chapter headings. 5. 7. save. Nott's emendation, followed by Grosart. The Quarto reads * haue.' 7. I. cuckoo in June. " From this exordium, it would seem that Decker's tract came out in the month of June, perhaps at the beginning of Trinity term."^ — Nott. 8. 15. gam-ut a-re. Gamuth-are {Qxxzxto). Nott, considering that * are ' was intended to be read also as the verb, printed ' gamut, ARE.' 10. 2. haunting. Nott's emendation. The Quarto reads ' heating.' 10. 3. write. Nott's emendation, followed by Grosart. The Quarto reads * waite.' 69 II. II. Fauni. Nott, taking 'mountebank' as a substantive, thought it necessary to correct to Faunus. It is, however, possible to consider the word as used adjectivally, in which case no change is necessary, II. 17. Germanies*. Nott corrected to German's. The quo- tation from Brinkelow's Complaint of Roderyck Mors (c. 1545), given in N.E.D., seems however to show that ' Germany ' was, at any rate earlier, a possible name for an inhabitant of the country. We might equally well read Germany's, the word standing in the Quarto as Germanies, with no apostrophe. 1 1 . 30. Preface! Nott read * profess,' explaining it as ' declare myself an adept.' In this reading he is followed by Hindley, but not by the edition of '62. 12. 30. lauret. Nott read ' laurel.' 15. heading. The Tailors. The Quarto has ' T the Tailors.' 15. 16. Birchin lane. Nott's emendation for ' Burchin-law ' of the Quarto. Accepted by Grosart. 17. 2-3. There were . . . Chairs. The Quarto has ' There were no daggers then, nor no Chayres.' Nott doubtfully explained ' daggers ' as instruments to fix meat upon while cutting it. This seems unsatisfactory, nor does 'chair' in the ordinary sense appear to have much point here. Taking into consideration what immediately follows in the text, it seems to me very probable that in ' Daggers ' we have a reference to the celebrated ' Dagger ' tavern in Holborn, which is frequently mentioned in literature of the period. If this is so ' The Chair ' may have been the name of another tavern or, as seems rather more likely, of a barber's shop. References to the barber's chair are of course frequent. 17. 19-20. Helen's cheek. The Quarto reads ' Hattens cheeke.' The change to ' Helen's ' was suggested to Nott by ' a scholar of no mean judgement,' but was not adopted by him. It is strongly 70 supported by a passage in Lyly's Euphues: " Venus had hir Mole in hir cheeke which made hir more amiable [i.e., lovable] : Helen hir scarre on hir chinne which Paris called Cos amoris, the Whetstone of loue." — PForks of J. Lyly (ed. Bond), i., 184, 21-3. The Quarto does not, however, read ' cos ' but • os,* and we must suppose that Helen's scar was confused with Venus' mole, a mistake which, in itself, is by no means unlikely. On the other hand, ' Hatten's cheek ' gives no intelligible sense. Sir Christopher Hatton, who is the only person likely to be under- stood by such a reference, had died as long ago as 1591, and a joke on his appearance would, at the date of the GulFs Hornbooky be pointless ; nor does there seem to be the least record of his having had any such mark. If we keep the reading ' Hatton's ' we may perhaps suppose that some peculiarity of his monument in St. Paul's or, possibly, some flaw in the stone of which it was composed may have given rise to a joke which would be understood by those at least who frequented the Cathedral. But such an explanation seems, in the absence of proof, decidedly far-fetched, and I have therefore preferred, though after some hesitation, to accept the emendation, which at least gives an intelligible sense. 17. 20. cos amoris. The Quarto has os amoris, which, inter- preted either as * the mouth of love ' or ' the bone of love,' seems meaningless and an impossible designation for a mole. 18. 8-9. memory . . . have. The Quarto has "memory (for their learning of all offices, from the scauenger and so vpward) haue . . ." 18. 26-8. that with . . . this. The Quarto has " that with gun-powder brings threatens, to blow vp all diseases that come in his way, & smels worse then Assa fatida in respect of this." Nott reads as my text, but has 'its way' for 'his way.' Grosart has ' brings threaten[ings] to . . .' 71 19. 3' Timonists. The Quarto has Pimonists, Corrected by Nott, who is followed by all later editors. 2 1 . heading, do for Brokers. This, the reading of the Quarto, which gives perfectly good sense, was changed by Nott and Hindley (not '62) to ' do, from Brokers ' to accord with the list of chapters on p. 5. 21.4. stage. Nott's emendation for ' stay ' of the Quarto. Accepted by Grosart. 21. 19. Bachelor of Art. Nott has ' bachelor of arts.' 22. 16. doctor's. So Hindley: doctors', Nott, '62. The Quarto has no apostrophe. 22. 19. the charges of. Nott's emendation for ' that charges of in the Quarto. Hindley omits ' of.' 24. 18-9. choose rather to have thy windpipe cut in pieces than to salute any man. From here to the end of the chapter Grobianus is closely followed. Compare the extract from The School of Slovenrie in the Appendix, lines 13-28. 26. 10. but your baboons and your jackanapes. The Quarto has in both cases ' you ' for ' your.' Grosart printed ' your . . . you[r].' 26. 17-8. more glorious . . . when. The Quarto has ' more glorious then (being onely in gray) at noone, when.' Nott reads ' more glorious, being only in gray, than at noon, when.' Grosart has ' more glorious, then (being onely in gray) then at noone, when '; his second ' then ' stands, of course, for ' than.' 27. heading, young gallant. Nott, following the list of chapters on p. 3 omits ^ young' as 'unnecessarily interpolated.' Not so '62. The description. Nott omits '7!^!?.' 27. II. tossing all thy clothes in a rude heap. Again we have many borrowings from Dedekind. See the passage from The School of Slovenrie, 11. 29-60. 72 27- 1 7- shin. Nott reads 'skin', Grosart 'skinne'; but the Quarto has clearly ' shinne.' 28. 9. thee. Nott's emendation for 'three' of the Quarto. Accepted by Grosart. 28. 15. strawling. Nott altered this to 'straddling,' The word * strawling ' does not seem to occur elsewhere, but it may nevertheless be correct. 31. II. mows at it. Nott suggests ' mows of it.' 2)9' if' 'charge. Nott's emendation for 'change' of the Quarto. Accepted by Grosart. 39. 12. he follows the fashion of great men, in keeping no house. The reduction of the households of the nobility and gentry, and consequent decay of hospitality, especially in the country, was a common subject of complaint throughout the period. The passage is well illustrated by one in Stafford's Examination of certayne complaints^ 1581 ; "Some other [of the Noblemen and Gentlemen], seeing the charges of householde encrease so much, as by no pro- uision they can make, it can bee holpen, geue ouer their housholdes, and get them Chambers in London or aboute the courte, and there spend their time, some of them with a seruaunt or two, where he was wont to keepe thirty or forty persons daily in his house, and to doe good in the Countrey in keeping good order and rule among his neighbors." — (Ed. Furnivall, for N.S.S., p. 64.) 41. heading. Nott omits 'young' as on p. 22, 41. 5. some half hour after eleven. Eleven o'clock was still the usual dinner hour at this period though shortly afterwards it became later. 42. 9. Kynock. Nott says 'a learned friend conjectures ii^Koc^ to be a misprint for Rynock; and fancies the word constituted of Ryn^ Rhine, and Hock, the wine so called.' He however printed Kynock, as did ' 62. Hindley has Rynock, without any note. 73 43- 5- you- The Quarto misprints *yon.' 43. 19. unwittingly. This reading was suggested by the editor of '62; the Quarto reads 'vomittingly.' Nott and Hindley have 'vomitingly' which does not give satisfactory sense. 43. 20. conjuration. Nott's remark that the Quarto reads 'comuration' is not true of the British Museum copy, which has, correctly, 'coniuration.' 43. 24-5. man's . . . would. Read perhaps 'man's, that is somewhat better : I would.' 44. 18. priningiron. ' priming-iron ' in the sense of ' tobacco- pick' has been suggested, and is perhaps right, but I cannot find other instances of the word at such an early date. 44. 25. wines. The Quarto has 'wiues,' All editors read ' wines.' 46. 17. Further it is . . . The Quarto begins a new paragraph here. All editors, including Grosart, run it on. 47. 29. now. Nott suggest ' row,' which reading was adopted by '62 and Hindley. It is plausible but not quite convincing, for the guide and the guU would not themselves row. 'Oars' probably means 'oarsmen.' 49. I. poets'. The edition of '62 reads 'poet's' : in the Quarto there is no apostrophe. 49. 9. are. Nott's suggestion for 'and' of the Quarto. It was accepted by the editor of ' 62. As an alternative, Nott suggested the insertion of 'To' before 'players,' in which case the sentence should of course not be broken after the word 'do.' Hindley has 'Players and their factors, who ... do, your gallant . . . pay-masters ; and.' Grosart followed the Quarto. 49. 23. tribe. Nott reads 'tribes' : Grosart 'tribe[s].' 50. 21. Persian. Nott suggests 'Parisian,' on the ground that allusions to the ' French lock ' are frequent. The emendation was accepted by Hindley. 74 51. 26. stage, like time. Nott's emendation for • Stagelike time ' of the Quarto. Accepted by Grosart. 52. 9. quaking. Hindley reads 'quacking,' perhaps a mere misprint. 52. 21. bastone. So Hindley. The Quarto, Nott, and '62 have ' bastome,' possibly an allowable form. 52. 27. many. Grosart has * mary,' i.e., marry. 54. 17-8. your feather, or your red bead, or your little legs. On this passage Hindley has the following note : — ' Here Decker retorts on Ben Jonson, who, in his The Poetaster, Act III., sc. i., makes mention of — " He with the ash-coloured feather there," "Little Legs," "And shall your hair change like these?" The blanketting alludes to the punishment inflicted on him as Horace in the Satiromastrix \sic\, and the bastinadoing to a circumstance of which — whether true or not — several hints are to be found in the same play.' I confess that I am sceptical. The quarrel dated from seven years before, a long time in the quickly-changing conditions of the Elizabethan stage, and besides, had Dekker really intended to attack Jonson, he could hardly have chosen a more unapt way of doing it than to picture himself as a gull laughed at by a poet and able to answer him in no better way than by rising 'with a screwed and discontented face ' and leaving the theatre in the middle of one of his plays. Surely Dekker, if indeed he had a red beard and little legs, was not unique in these respects among men of the period. In 161 1, at least, we know that a red beard was 'most in fashion' {see L, Barry's Ram-Alley, I., i.). It is indeed hard to see what more obvious or likely peculiarities of a gull Dekker could have selected for mention. 55. 15. Euphuized. The Quarto has £«/>/^«/r^; Nott, Euphu- esed ; and Grosart, Euphuizd. 7S 58. 12. inlove . . . /.^., very fond of one of the exercises mentioned. 58. 30. dead. Nott's emendation for ' deere ' of the Quarto. The edition of '62 reads ' dear ' but suggests ' dead.' Although the change seems necessary, ' dear ' giving no apparent sense, it should be noted that the misprint is not a simple one, necessitating, as it does, an error of at least two letters. 59. 14-5. now there is a general peace. 'The peace con- cluded with Spain in August, 1 604 ; and which had re-opened up the wine trade.' — Hindley. 59. 15. drunk. Notts emendation, accepted by Grosart. The Quarto has 'drinke.' 61. 16. vintners. The Quarto misprints 'Vintuers.' 62- 20. cold; or, if Nott's emendation for 'cold) But if of the Quarto. Accepted by Grosart. This reading gives fair sense, but it seems to me much more probable that several words have dropped out, telling the gull what he should do if he 'smell a watch': it may perhaps have been intended to give him directions for escaping notice altogether. 66. 22. itch to. The Quarto has 'itch, to', which would also give quite good sense, though the sentence would be grammatically imperfect. If this reading is preferred the comma after 'barber's' should be replaced by a semicolon. Grosart printed ' itch to', as here. 76 GLOSSARY (The figures between brackets are those of the page and line.) Ad prelum TANQUJM ad PRCELIUM — (3. 5-6): 'to the press as to battle.' Alongst — (33. 2) : along. Apple-squire — (15. 10): a harlot's attendant ; pimp. Arcadian and Euphuized gentlewomen — (55. 15-16): persons who, to be in the fashion, used an affected style of speech imitated from Sidney's Arcadia and Lyly's Euphues, Arches — (16. 20) : fluting or puckering (of the rabatos or ruffs). A-RE—{%. 15): see GAM-UT. B. FROM A BATTLEDORE, TO DISTINGUISH A (lO. 1 8) : tO IcnOW OnC thing from another ; here apparently — to be able to read. The phrase, which is very common, has not been satisfactorily ex- plained. Bale (of dice) — (46. 13) : pair or set. Bankerout — (47. 6) : bankruptcy. Barbaria — (33. 2): "a countrey where dwelleth people rude and beastly." — Cooper's Thesaurus (1584). Here put jokingly for the land of barbers. Basilisk eyes — (41. 13) : malignant eyes. The basilisk was fabled to be able to kill a person with its glance. Bastone — (52. 21): bastinado. See note. Beast, the great — (49. 6-7): the common people. Begged for a concealment — (18. 14-15): see Concealment. Bias, like — (10. 4): silent. "Bias holding his tongue at a feast, was termed there of a tatler to be a fool, who said, ' Is there 77 any wise man that can hold his tongue amidst the wine ? ' unto whom Bias answered, ' There is no fool that can.' " — J. Lyly's Euphues {Works, ed. Bond, I., 279). Bias was one of the " seven wise men " of Greece. Bill — (16. 14): used in the double sense of — (i) an account, and (2) a kind of halberd, the weapon of a watchman. BiRCHiN Lane — (15. 16): a lane running north from Lombard Street, some distance west of Gracechurch Street. It was inhabited chiefly by drapers and dealers in clothing ; especially second-hand. BiRDiNG-PiECE — (17. 25): a fowling-piece. Blind — (46. 17) : without a light (?). Blistered — (16. 17): ornamented with puffs. Block — (34. 3) : a mould for a hat. Block-house — (9. 14) : a guard-house, with punning allusion to the use of ' block ' in the sense of stupid person, as in ' block- head.' Blue case — {()T^. 14) : blue coat, the usual colour for a serving-man's livery. Book, to fight by the — (33. 22) : i.e., according to rules. Possibly Dekker is referring to some such work as Vincentio Saviolo his Practise, in two Books. The first intreating of the use of the Rapier and Dagger. The second, of honor and honorable Quarrels (1595). Boot-hose — (28. 11-12) : hose and boots combined in one. Bravery — (26. 18): gay apparel; splendour. Butter-box — (32. 16) : a cant term for a Dutchman. Cales voyage — (42. 2) : the expedition under the Earl of Essex and Lord Effingham which took Cadiz (Cales) in 1596. Candied — (21. 18) : sugared ; with allusion to the sense of ' candid.' 78 Canvassing — (23. 2): criticising; attacking. Cane — (66. 19) : a variety of tobacco. Case — (57. 22): dress. Cast — (11. 22): possibly — vomit. Casting away a leg — (24. 29) : making a bow or curtsy. Catchpole — (36. 12): sheriff's officer; sergeant. Ceruse — (17. 22) : white lead used as a cosmetic. Chair — (17. 3) : perhaps the name of a tavern. See note. Chapman — (49. 12): merchant. Charm out — (12. 17): sing. Clarke, Will — (34, i) : Nott suggests that he may have been a notorious news-writer of the time. There were at least two writers of the name who are known to us, but neither seems likely to be alluded to. Possibly ' Will, the clerk ' is meant, the sense being that the church bells would be rung in the gull's honour. Cleft to the shoulders — (61. 16): drunk (?) The phrase does not seem to occur elsewhere. Coat with four elbows — (7. 17) : a fool's coat with an extra pair of sleeves hanging down at the back. Compare Nashe's Have with you to Safiron-Walden (JVorks ed. Grosart, iii., 33), "wings at his arms, like a fool's coat with four elbows." Cockatrice — (58. 10; 59. 30): a loose woman ; mistress. C(ELUM PETIMUS STULtlTIA — (8. 11-12): we seek heaven in our folly. From Horace, Carm^ i., 3. 38. Coil — (27. 13): fuss; to-do. College of Critics — (8. 14) : it is not known to what this refers. Nott quotes Ben Jonson's Epiccene (1609-10), I., i. ; "a new foundation ... of ladies, that call themselves the collegiates " ; 79 but the second allusion here (45. 24) seems to show that it was an association of men. Compare also the Induction to Marston's Malcontent. Commodities, TASTES THESE — (47. 13-14): obtains these advantages. CoMPLiMENTAL — (8. 1 6) I accomplished. Compliment — (42.11; 44.28): accomplishment; especially polite accomplishment. Concealment, be begged for a — (18. 14-15): "concealment" was the offence of holding land against the king's right ; without proper title. It seems to be meant that rich men's sons were accused (probably for purposes of blackmail or with the object of getting the property made over to the accuser) of being in possession of lands to which they had no legal right. Nott's suggestion that the concealing or sheltering of adventurers and sharpers from the law is referred to, does not seem plausible. Conjuration — (43. 20) : persuasion. Constable — (8. 12): the joke is not quite clear; but constables were proverbially dull-witted and a common butt of jests. CoNVENiENCY — (53. 17): Convenience. Conycatcher — (18. 16): cheat; sharper. Cormorant — (12. i): glutton. Cos JMORIS — (17. 20) : the whetstone of love. See note. Counters — (58.3; 65.26): the debtors' prisons. There were two of these: one in Wood Street, the other in the Poultry, in Cheapside. The latter is punningly alluded to as " the Counter amongst the poultry" (52. 20). Crookes his ordinary — (17. 3) : the name of a tavern. Nothing further is known about it. Crossed, not much — (36. 1-4) : few of whose accounts have been crossed off as paid ; hence — largely indebted. 80 Cuckoo in Christmas — (25. 30): The point of this allusion has not been explained. Cuckoo in June — (7. i.) : the cuckoo was supposed to grow hoarse in June. See note to PasquiPs Jests in Hazlitt's Shakespeare Jest-Books, vol. iii. Cutter — {6^. 24) : tailor. Cypress — (37. 3) : a light, transparent material resembling crape ; a hat-band of such material. D^DALiAN — (16. 19) : "RufFs were so termed from their manifold [labyrinthine] plaits." — Nott. Dagger — (17. 2) : a celebrated tavern in Holborn. See note. Dawcock — (51. 25) : a silly fellow (Jit. jackdaw). Dead pay — (58. 30; 59. i) : pay for dead soldiers fraudulently drawn by their officers. See note. Derick — (22. 3-4) : the hangman of the time. DiACATHOLICON JUREUM — (18. 26) : a laxative electuary, so called because it was a ' golden ' remedy for every disease, and perhaps also because it was supposed to contain gold. Dog your heels — (36. 18): stick close. "It had long been the custom, and it prevails even at this day, for the choristers, on seeing a person enter the cathedral, during divine service, with spurs on, to demand of him what is called spur-money." — Nott. Dorp — (16. 12): a village. Drab — (45. 27) : a loose woman. Draw — (54. 2) : i.e., draw out your purse. Duke — (29. 11): i.e., Duke Humphrey. The tomb of Sir John Beauchamp, on the south side of the nave in St. Paul's Cathedral, was popularly supposed to be that of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester (1391-1447), "the Good Duke Hum- phrey," who was in reality buried at St. Albans. This tomb G 81 was a common meetingplace of gallants and others, particularly such persons as went in fear of arrest for debt, for within the Cathedral they were safe from the hands of the law. They seem to have especially congregated in the "gallery" adjacent to the tomb, presumably the south aisle of the church. Compare Dekker's Dead Term {Works, ed. Grosart, iv., 50). Hence those who could not afford dinner and were obliged to spend the mid-day hours in wandering about the Cathedral were said to " dine with Duke Humphrey." DuNSTiCAL — (11. 12): stupid; dunce-like. Dutch crier — (9. 18): "the Dutch public criers made use of a drum, as ours now do of a bell." — Nott. Dutchman — (3. 13): German. Ebritians — (24. 27) : Hebrews. Dekker perhaps took the word from The School of Slovenrie. See extract, 1. 1 9. Encomiastics — (60. 13): praises. Endymion — (23. 21) : I can find no authority for the statement that his sleep was of 75 years. Classical mythology makes it eternal ; Lyly, in his play of Endimion, 40 years. Ensure — (44. 29) : assure. Equinoctial of the salt cellar — (46, ii) : the salt was placed in the middle of the table, the most honourable places being those nearest the head. Eryngo-root — (15. 3) : this was formerly used as a provocative. EsTRicH — (50. 14): ostrich. Exhibition — (46. 9) : allowance of money ; income. Eye of the element — (23. 30) : the sun. 82 Fashionate — (34. 6) : fashionable. Fashions — (16. 23; 37. 12): a vulgar variant of farcy or farcin, the horse disease. Here used with a pun on the ordinary meaning of the word. Fencer — (18. 16): fencing master. They were notorious bullies and blackguards. Nott considered that it meant a receiver of stolen goods, but this sense is perhaps hardly so early. Flapdragon — (11. 20): "small combustible bodies (they may be formed of almonds) set on fire, floated in a glass of liquor and swallowed while burning." — Nott. Flocks — (30. 22) : refuse of wool, used for stuffing mattresses, etc. France — (43. 9) : Nott thinks that a part of the tennis-court was called France. I have, however, been unable to find other instances of its use in this sense. Freezeland — (25. 11): for Friesland, to favour the equivoque. Frenchman — (30. 6) : " Allusion is here made to a certain disease, so frequently noticed by Shakespeare [and almost every other Elizabethan writer] for its depilatory effects," — Nott. Frolic — (11. 20): "Humorous verses circulated at a feast." — N.E.D., but the quotations are not convincing. They were clearly something passed round the table. Gallery — (66. 28): a display of fencing (.?). Gallery-commoner — (49. 15): a spectator in the gallery, one of the cheapest parts of a theatre. Galligaskin — (16. 16) : a kind of wide hose or breeches. Galloway nag — (4 1.9): a small Scotch horse. Gallonius — (15. 13): a public crier in Rome circa B.C. 140, pro- verbial for his wealth and luxurious mode of life. 83 GjM-UT A-RE — (8. 15) : the two lowest notes of Guido d'Arezzo's musical scale. Compare The Taming of the Shrew, III., i. Used to signify the whole scale, as A B C to mean the whole alphabet. Gatherers — (50. 3) : money-takers at the doors of theatres. Gear — (18. 11): matter; affair. Germanies' — (11. 17): Germans'. See note. Gird — (8. 30) : sneer. Girder — (50. 25): sneerer; satirist. Globe — (17. 14) : there seems to be an allusion to the Globe theatre, which was in or near Paris Garden. Glove — (11. 20): "some kind of drinking vessel." — N.E.D. (with no other instance). Golden Ass — (16. 25): an allusion to the well-known romance of Apuleius. In 1600 Dekker had collaborated with Chettle and Day in a play of The Golden Ass, and Cupid and Psyche, not now extant. GoosECAP — (9. i; 28. 20): booby; noodle; numskull. Gotham — (28. 24) : this village, in the south-west corner of Notting- hamshire, was notorious for the foolishness of its inhabitants, about whom many ludicrous stories were current. See the Merry Tales of the Mad Men of Gotham in Hazlitt's Shakespeare Jest-Books, vol. iii. Grave Maurice — (42. 6) : Maurice of Nassau, the second son of the Prince of Orange, who succeeded Robert, Earl of Essex, as general-in-chief of the United Provinces in 1588. Great — (16. 2 ; 36. 5): to be 'great' in anyone's books was to be largely in debt to them. Green goose — (59. 5) : gosling. 84 Grobianism — (3. 10): the characteristics of the hero of Frederick Dedekind's Latin poem of Grobianus. See Introduction under ' Source.' Grogram — (35. 24) : a coarse fabric of silk, mohair, or wool, or of these mixed with silk ; often stiiFened with gum. Groundling — (49. 15): a spectator who occupies one of the cheapest places in a theatre, generally standing-room in the yard. Groutnoll — (13. 8): blockhead. Gull — Dekker uses the word in the somewhat unusual sense of an ignorant, boorish person trying to pose as a town gallant. The common meaning is — fool, one easily cheated ; sometimes also — fop. Gull — (54. 7) : vb. Cheat ; trick. Hand — (44. 26) : handwriting. Handfull — (17. i): a measure of four inches, the same as 'hand- breadth.* KLandkercher — (35. 27) : handkerchief. Hanged (of rapiers) — (47. 25) : put on ; suspended to the belt by the cords termed ' hangers.' Hannibal — (9. 10) : the allusion is to Hannibal's passage over the Alps, when, according to Livy, he used vinegar to split or dissolve the rocks and make a road for his army. Happily — (51. 6; 58. 29; 65. 14): haply; perhaps. Hare-hunter — (31. 23): hair hunter; an equivoque. Hazard — (46. 8) : a card game. Heir — (3 1 . 25): punning on ' hair.' Hedge-creeper — (26. 1 1) : a crafty vagabond and thief. Helen's CHEEK — (17. 19): j^e note. 85 Heliogabalus — (15. 17): a Roman Emperor, A.D. 2 18-222, famed for his insane luxury. Hemlock, chew nothing but — (9. 7-8) : Nott considered this equivalent to " Go, poison yourself." Heteroclite — (8. 7): oddity; eccentric person. Hieroglyphic, mystical — (11. 25): probably 'occult power' is meant. High Dutch — (63. 12): German. Hobby — (33. 17) : a small horse or pony. Hobby-horse — (47. 27) : pony. Hoop — (i i. 19) : a kind of drinking vessel, or a measure of drink. Hornbook : a leaf of paper containing the alphabet (and generally the Lord's Prayer and a few simple words) covered with a thin sheet of horn for protection, and mounted on a square piece of wood with a handle (see the initial letter on page i). It was used for teaching children their letters. Hence elementary primer. Horse that went up St. Paul's steeple — (38. 5): we learn from Dekker's Dead Term (Pf^orks, ed. Grosart, iv., 49) that this took place in the year 1 600. There is also an anecdote about it in the same author's Jests to make you Merry (JVorks, ii., 288). Nott thinks that this must have been the famous performing horse of Banks, frequently referred to in Elizabethan literature, but there seems no evidence for this. Humphrey, Duke : see Duke. iLLE EGO QUI QUONDJM — (17. 29): ^o"" ^^^ distinction between these. In general, it may be said that the private theatres were smaller and more expensive ; they were also entirely roofed over, while the public ones were partially open to the sky. Pudding — (66. 19): a variety of tobacco. Punk — (i. 9; 47. 8; etc.): a loose woman; mistress. Put out money upon his return — (47. 18-19): adventurers about to set out on a journey frequently staked large sums of money on condition that if they returned in safety they were to receive from two to ten times the amount deposited. Quality — (60. 22) : characteristic. QuAT — (57. 6) : a young man (Jit. a pimple; spot). Quicksilver — (28. 8) : apparently here used for a lackey or errand boy. There is a character of this name in Chapman, Jonson, and Marston's play o{ Eastward Ho (1605), but he is a prentice, not a servant. Quietus est — (66. 3) : acquittance. Quilted — (32. 22) : padded. Quoit — {2^- ^^) • toss; throw. For a note on the custom of giving * spur-money ' see under Dog. Rabato — (16. 20) : a kind of ruff or collar. Rasher o' th' coals — (11. 25-26) : a fried or broiled slice of meat, probably salted, eaten to provoke thirst. Rid away — (64. 29) : were lost. Rifling — (61.20): dicing party. A variant of ' raffling.' 94 Ring — (44. 27) : a method of taking tobacco ; or perhaps the trick of forming rings with the smoke. RouGH-EOOTED DOVE — (28. 14) : One with feathers on its legs. RowsA — (11. 18): a bumper. Rubbing — (52, 9) : " Hath put on his stage face, by rubbing the usual paint on his cheeks." — Nott. The word 'quaking' seems, however, to suggest that his want of colour was due to nervous- ness. The prologue appears, at least sometimes, to have been spoken, not by one of the regular actors, but by the author or his representative. Ruffled boot — (8. 8) : one with a large turn-down top. Salad — (59. i) : used with a play on the two meanings: (i) a dish of lettuce, and (2) a military head-piece. Salerne, the university of — (21. 13): a famous medieval school of medical science at Salerno. Its more important precepts regarding the care of the health were embodied in a Latin poem, which, under the title of Regimen Sanitatis Sakrni, became ex- ceedingly popular. This is anonymous, but is said to have been the work of Joannes de Mediolano, an Italian physician who lived in the latter half of the eleventh century. Saturnian agb — (16. 27) : the primitive world. Saturnist — (31. 29) : a person of a morose or gloomy temperament. Sconce — (28.27): head. Sepulchre, St. — (39. 5) : one of the best known of the churches without the walls, near Newgate. Sergeant — (41. 14): sheriff's officer ; bailiff. Serving-man's log — (34. 20) : probably a block or bench upon which serving-men sat. 95 Seven wise masters — (7. 18): the 'seven wise men' of Greece, namely, Solon, Chilo, Pittacus, Bias, Periander, Cleobulus, and Thales. Seventeen provinces — (42. 10): the United Netherlands. Sharers — (55. 7) : the members of a theatrical company who shared the risks and profits of the undertaking. Shaving — (61. 27): roguery; cheating. Shears — 'there went but a pair of shears between them' — (16. 8) : " there i.e., they were both cut from the same stuff. Ship of Fools — (9. 27) : the Narrensckiff, a. famous German satirical poem descriptive of the various kinds of fools, by Sebastian Brant ; first printed in 1494, translated into English by Alexander Barclay, 1509. Shittlecock — (55. 17): shuttlecock. Shoeing-horn — (11.26): something eaten to provoke thirst. Com- pare Nashe's Lenten Stuff: " [red-herring] is a shoeing-horn for a pint of wine over-plus." — Works (ed. Grosart, v., 245). Shot — (60. 21): tavern reckoning. Shoulder-clapping — (53. 18): arrest. Sidney, Sir Philip — (38. 27): his epitaph may be read in Stow's London (ed. Strype, 1720, bk. iii., p. 161). The tomb shared between him and Sir Francis Walsingham was considered un- worthy of their renown. Hence was made a rhyme : " Philip and Francis have no Tomb, For great Christopher takes all the Room." (Stow, as above, p. 160.) Singer, John — (10.26) : a noted actor and jig-maker (^fl. 15 94- 1602). Si QUIS — (37. 29): an advertisement for anything lost; notice or announcement of any kind. 96 Sit brevis, jut nullus, tibi somnus meridunus — (21. 15): ' let your mid-day sleep be short or none at all.' A quotation from the Regimen Sanitatis Salerni, see Salerne. SiTHENCE — (49. 17): since. Skelder — (47. 22) : swindle. Skill's not — (35. 27; 64. 3): matters not. Skinker — (11. 17) : one who serves drink; a drawer, tapster. Slop — (16. 16): trousers. Snake-proof — (9. 10): proof against envy and malice. Snort — (22. 18): snore. Soles, single and simple — (18. 2): 'Single-soled' meant poverty- striken. There is here some vague play upon the sense of ' soul.' Sometime — (59. 4) : sometimes. Sommer, William — (8. 9): the famous jester of Henry VIII, {d. 1560), more correctly called 'Sommers.' His 'wardrobe' was of course his fool's dress. Spawling — (12. 15): spitting about. Spending Englishman — (30. 7): "A joke is here intended, which I think I can catch ; but perhaps it is one that needs not be inquired into." — Nott. Spinsters of destiny — (31. 2) : the fates. Spur-royal — (64. 28): a gold coin issued by James I, and worth about 1 6s. State OF Cambyses — (50.13): throne of Cambyses. The character seems to have been proverbial for magnificence, perhaps owing to the popularity at an earlier date of Preston's play of Cambyses (1569-70). H 97 Stephen, King — (i6. 5) : Alluding to a stanza in the ballad 'Take thy old cloak about thee,' in Percy's Reliques, etc. The verse is : "King Stephen was a worthy peer, His breeches cost him but a crown ; He held them six-pence all too dear, With that he called the tailor ' Lown ! ' " This stanza with another occurs in Othello, II., iii. Stool — (51. 19): It was customary for the more fashionable spectators to sit on stools on the stage. Stoop — (11. 18) : a tankard ; flagon ; or its contents. Stow's Chronicle — (38. 22): The Summary of English Chronicles^ first published in 1565, or The Chronicles of England, first published in 1580, and frequently afterwards with the title of The Annals of England. Strawling — (28. 15): straddling (.'). See no\&. Strosser — (16. 18): a kind of tight trousers. Supplements — (44. 7-8): supplies; or perhaps additional advantages. SwouND — (38. 13): swoon. Table — (3. 14): a panel for painting on. Tables — (18.4; 66. 12): tablets for memoranda. Table-books — (37. 17): See Tables. Table-men — (8. 24) : The usual meaning is chess or draughtsmen : here possibly players at these games may be meant. It has been suggested that 'gaily apparelled servants' are intended. Take up money — (45. 28) : borrow or, perhaps, collect money due. Tarleton, R. — (10. 26) : a celebrated comic actor and improviser of doggrel verse {d. 1588). 98 Term — (3. 5) : London was much fuller and more busy during the four law terms than at other seasons. It was therefore customary to publish books, especially those of a popular nature, at these times. Tester, teston — (45. 22; 52. 14): a coin of the value of six pence. Theatre DU MONDE — (17. 11) : possibly this may be an allusion to the Theatrum mundi of P. Boaistuau, first published in 1566, but many geographical works had similar titles, as, for example, the well-known Theatrum Orbis Terrarum (1570), by the Italian geographer, Ortelius. Thirty in the hundred — (i. 10) : thirty per cent interest. Thrummed cap — (32. 17-18): a cap made of thrums, or waste yarn. TiMONisTS — (19, 3): followers of Timon of Athens. See note. Tooting— (22. 19): peering; prying. TOTJLIS—{6o.2^): total. Traverse — (60, 29) : dispute. Trojan, an honest — (31. 7): a good fellow; boon companion. There is a play on the word Greek above : a ' merry Greek ' is also a boon companion, jovial fellow. Troubled with two offices — (43. i) : Nott says "This alludes to the prohibition by law to hold two benefices, or two lay offices together, without a dispensation ; and such dispensation was not so easily obtained as now. Our gallant therefore is directed to affect having the means of procuring persons this dispensa- tion, from his intimacy with the great." Trumpets — (52. 10) : trumpets were sounded thrice as a signal that the play was about to begin. 99 Turks — (31. 1 8) : Compare the account by T. Sanders of a disastrous voyage to i'ripoli in 1583, in Hakluyt's Principal Navigations, vol. ii., part i., p. 187. The ship's company were taken prisoners and were * forceably and violently shaven, head and beard.' TwELVEPENNY ROOM — (9. 2) : the best places at a theatre. Unicorn's horn — (26. 8) : The substance sold as 'unicorn's horn' was considered an infallible antidote against poison, and as such, fetched a very high price. It seems to have been the fossilised tusk of some animal, but probably more than one substance went under the name. Compare Sir Thomas Browne's Pseudodoxia Epidemica, bk. iii., ch. 23. Unwittingly — (43. 19): 5^^ note. Upsy-freeze — (11. 17-18) : 'in the Frisian manner'; probably some custom connected with drinking. It was thought by Nott to be a kind of drink, but see ' upsee-Dutch ' in the Century Dictionary. Vaunt-couriers — (25. 6) : avaunt-couriers ; fore-runners. VeTUS COMCEDU — (21. 3): the old comedy, i.e., satirical and topical drama. Virginals — (27. 10) : a spinet or harpsichord. Voider — (17. 8 ; 47. 23) : a basket used to carry away the remnants of a meal. Walks — (34. 1 7) : the aisles of St. Paul's, used as a fashionable promenade. Wet finger, with a — (60. 12): easily, at a call or sign. The origin of the expression has not been satisfactorily explained. 100 We three — (51. 9) : An allusion to the old humorous picture of two boobies, with the inscription 'We three, Loggerheads be,' the spectator being, of course, the third. Whiff — (44. 27) : a method of taking tobacco, perhaps inhaling. Whiff down — (33. 20) : swallow down. Wines — (44.25): the rarer wines, especially varieties of sweet wine, were at this period generally sold by apothecaries. See note. Woodcock — (11. 5): a simpleton. The bird was popularly supposed to have no brains. The reference at 25. 27, to Pliny's being unable to catch them in his springes has not been explained. Nott suggests that it merely means that he omitted the bird altogether in his Natural History, but Pliny's ' attagen ' is gen- erally taken to be the same bird. Woodroffe, Kit — (38. 4-5) : nothing further seems to be known about this person. Yard — (51. 29): the uncovered standing-room in the public theatres. ZoiLus — (9. 6) : a grammarian famous for his strictures on Homer ; hence, a carping critic. lOI APPENDICES I. — The first chapter of Dedekind's Grobianus, from the English translation by R.F., published in 1605, under the title of I'he Schoole of Slovenrie : Or, Cato turnd wrong side outward. What modestie is to he observed each morning in the apparrell, and making the haire, the face, and the teeth cleane. Whose're thou art that hat'st at heart a Masters crabbed charge, Which reades a Lecture every day of gravltie at large : Harke hither, come and heare this man, a man of quiet speech, No thunder-thumping Catonist, you neede him not beseech. My speech is brode, be rul'd, and then He do the best I can, 5 Be rudible, and sure I thinke you'le prove a learned man : Be but a careful! auditor and scholler unto me, And then you'le soone excell your Master in simplicitie. What though some crabbed wittall do not like my precepts well, Yet they can never hurte you, if you marke all that I tell. i o When Morpheus, drowsie god of sleepe, from bed doth thee dismisse, (Which must be just at dinner time, for so my counsell is :) Thy parents blessing never aske, learne that good point of me. This is a rule and perfect note of great civilitie. Good morrow nor good even to friend nor foe impart too fast : 1 5 If they beginne, repay no thanks, walke on, you are in haste : What though you both should use, to both you know t' would be but vaine, Then loose no words for good words past cannot be cal'd againe. Let fond Hebritians, which account their superstition wealth, 19 Salute their friends, pray for their foes, and aske them of their health : Tis vaine to have so great a care of such superfluous things, This too much care to jocund youth white haires and sorrow brings. 102 When you are up, to stretch your selfe deserveth mickle praise ; This is prescrib'd by all that practise phisicke in our daies : For when your sinews, numb'd with sleepe, cannot performe their worke, 25 This stretching drives away all numbnesse which in them did lurke. Being out of bed, let it suffice to clothe thee in thy shurt, To stay to put on all thy clothes, with colde thou mightst thee hurt: All thy apparrell else get up forth-with under thine arme, 29 Then to the chimney corner runne, for there thou maist it warme. What though a maide or married wife be there before thou come. Go forward with thy purpose though, as thou wouldst erst have done. If any man object to thee, that manners thou doost lacke, Bid him, if he mislike that sight, be gone and shew his backe. Let every man give place to thee, thy selfe give place to none, 35 What, man ! why, Nature made thee free, then boldely hold thine owne. At length, when thou art well araide, let both thy hose hang downe About thy heeles, this onely thing will get thee great renowne : For by this secret meanes the maides will seeke thy love to have, And every wench thee, for her husband, of her friends will crave. Your reason, sir 1 O sir, there is a speciall reason why, 4 1 I cannot stay to tell it now. He tell it by and by. Simplicitie commands that you forget to trusse your pointes, Hard tying is an enimie to bellie and to joynts. Lest some men say you are too hansome, ne'er combe your haire, As Nature sets it, and bed leaves it, use it so to weare : 46 Leave plaited haires, and curled lockes, unto the female sex, And let them use to combe their haire, whom cruell love doth vex. Beleeve me, not a wench unto thee will affection beare. If she perceive that thou observ'st such nicenesse in thy haire : 50 Who can abide yong men that dresse themselves as female crew, 103 A Creetish dame writ to an Amazonian lover true : 'Tis praise and credite to have feathers store upon your head, For thereby men may well perceive you scorne straw in your bed. In any case cut not your haire, but let it hang at length, ^^ For t'will both keepe away the colde, and argue Sampsons strength. When father Saturne rulde the world all men did use long haire. And gloried in it, though now wenches use it most to weare : Fore-fathers plaine simplicitie is prais'd in every place, Then let not us disdaine to use it, it is no disgrace. 60 Thy face and hands too oft to wash, is cause of mickle hurt, Therefore (a Gods name) let them both have ever store of durt : Let other men, that with hands, have care to wash them cleane ; But as for washing of my hands, to take no care I meane. 64 Some nice-controuling mate will counsell thee to wash thy teeth; But I say, water in the mouth not with the health agreeth : What though your teeth, through o're-much rust, are dide to a red hue .'' That is a perfect saffron colour, t'will much credite you. 68 What other colour then this red hath the bright glittering gold. For which possessions, tenements, lands, lives, and all are sold } Then thinke not, that golds perfect colour doth your teeth disgrace. That colour which, in few mens purses, in your teeth hath place. 104 II. — The fifth chapter of Vincent's Toung Gallant's Academy, i6y^, corresponding to the sixth of T/ie Gull's Hornbook. CHAP. V Instructions for a young Gallant how to be have himself in the Play-house. The Theatre is your Poets Royal Exchange, upon which their Muses (that are now turned to Merchants) meeting, barter away that light Commodity of words, for a lighter ware than words, Plaudities, and the breath of the great Beast, which (like the threatnings of two Cowards) vanish into Air. The Play-house is free for entertainment, allowing Room as well to the Farmers Son as to a Tempter; yet it is not fit that he whom the most Taylors bills make room for when he comes, should be basely, like a Viol, cased up in a corner : Therefore, I say, let our Gallant (having paid his half Crown, and given the Door-keeper his Ticket) presently advance himself into the middle of the Pit, where having made his Honor to the rest of the Company, but especially to the Vizard -Masks, let him pull out his Comb, and manage his flaxen Wig with all the Grace he can. Having so done, the next step is to give a hum to the China-Orange-wench, and give her her own rate for her Oranges (for 'tis below a Gentleman tost and haggling like a Citizens wife) and then to present the fairest to the next Vizard-mask. And that I may incourage our Gallant not like the Trades-man to save a shilling, and so sit but in the Middle-Gallery, let him but consider what large comings-in are pursed up sitting in the Pit. I. First, A conspicuous Eminence is gotten, by which means the best and most essential parts of a Gentleman, as his fine Cloaths and Perruke, are perfectly revealed. 105 2. By sitting in the Pit, if you be a Knight, you may happily get you a Mistress ; which if you would, I advise you never to be absent when Epsome Wells is plaid : for, " We see the Wells have stoln the Vizard-masks away" Empress of Morocco, in the Prologue. But if you be but a meer Fleetstreet Gentleman, a Wife : but assure your self, by your continual residence there, you are the first and principal man in election to begin the number of We three. It shall Crown you with rich Commendation, to laugh aloud in the midst of the most serious and sudden Scene of the terriblest Tragedy, and to let the Clapper (your Tongue) be tossed so high, that all the House may ring of it : for by talking and laughing, you heap Pelion upon Ossa, Glory upon Glory : as first, all the eyes in the Galleries will leave walking after the Players, and. only follow you : the most Pedantick Person in the House snatches up your name ; and when he meets you in the Streets, he'l say. He is such a Gallant; and the people admire you. Secondly, You publish your temperance to the world, in that you seem not to resort thither to taste vain Pleasures with an hungry Appetite ; but only as a Gentleman to spend a foolish hour or two, because you can do nothing else. Now Sir, if the Poet be a fellow that hath Lampooned or libelled you, or hath had a flirt at your Mistress, you shall disgrace him worse than tossing him in a Blanket, or giving him the Bastinado in a Tavern, if in the middle of the Play you arise with a skrew'd and discontented face (as if you had the griping in the Guts) and be gone ; and further to vex him, mew at passionate Speeches, blare at merry, find fault with the Musick, whistle at the Songs, and above all, curse the Sharers, that whereas the very same day you had bestowed five pounds for an embroidered Belt, you encounter with the very same on the Stage, when the Belt-maker swore the impression was new but that morning. lo6 To conclude, hoard up the finest Play-scraps you can get, upon which your lean Wit may most savourly feed for want of other stuflF; for this is only Furniture for a Courtier that is but a new Beginner, and is but in his A B C of Complement. The next places that are fiUed after the Play-houses be emptied, are Taverns. Into a Tavern let us then march, where the Brains of one Hogshead must be beaten out to make up another. 107 THIS EDITION OF THE GULL'S HORNBOOK WAS PRINTED BY ALEXANDER MORING LIMITED AT 298 REGENT STREET LONDON W MARCH MDCCCCIV