"_Cr_[afty] _Con_[veyance]. c.o.c.kes armes, thou shalt kepe the brewhouse boule.

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

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

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

-- _Of the wydowes daughter that was sent to the abbot with a couple of capons._ xcvi.

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

FOOTNOTES:

[280] Do it.

-- _Of the two men, that dranke a pynte of whyte wyne to gether._ xcvii.

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

FOOTNOTES:

[281] G.o.d thank you.

[282] _i.e._ I had.

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

"_Hearsay._ Thou hast forgotten Wine, Lieutenant, wine.

_Slicer._ Then to avoid the grosse absurdity Of a dry Battel, 'cause there must some bloud Be spilt (on th' enemies side, I mean) you may Have there a Rundlet of brisk Claret, and As much of Aligant, the same quant.i.tie Of Tent would not be wanting, 'tis a wine Most like to bloud.

Some shall bleed fainter colours, As Sack, and white wine. Some that have the itch (As there are Taylors still in every Army) Shall run with Renish, that hath Brimstone in't."

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

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

_Lach._ O dainty lyer!

_Pseud._ Thirty rivers more With Aligaunte."

_Timon_, a Play, p. 39.

In the _Privy Purse Expenses of Henry VIII._, under date of Feb. 16, 1530, occurs the following item:--"Paied to the S'geant of the Sello'

for iii tonne of white wyne of galiake (Gaillac in Languedoc)." See also _the Northumberland House-Hold Book_, ed. 1827, p. 414; and Taylor's _Penniless Pilgrimage_, 1618 (_Works_, 1630, i. 136).

-- _Of the doctour that went with the fouler to catche byrdes._ xcviii.

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

FOOTNOTES:

[284] "He that will take the bird, must not skare it."--Herbert's _Outlandish Proverbs_, 1640, No. 41.

-- _Of hym that vndertoke to teache an a.s.se to rede._ xcix.

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

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

FOOTNOTES:

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

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

-- _Of the fryer that confessed the woman._[287] c.

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

But after, whanne this was knowen, amba.s.sadoures of the same citie wente and complayned therof before the Holy See Apostolyke.

FOOTNOTES:

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

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