A caueat o[r warening, for [?]] common cursetor[s vulgarely called [?]] vagabones, set forth by Tho[mas Harman, Esquier, for the [?]] vtilitie and profit of his natur[all countrey. Newly augmented and [?] en]larged by the first author [...] the tale of the second ta[...] crank, with the true [...]or, and also his puni[...] dissembling, most [...] hearer or reader [...]
Harman, Thomas, fl. 1567.

¶ A Roge. Cap. 4.

A Roge is neither so stout or hardy as the vpryght man: Many of them will go fayntly and looke piteousely when they sée eyther méete any person, hauing a kercher as white as my shoes tyed a∣bout their head, with a short staffe in their hand, halting althoughe they nede not, requiring almes of such as thei mete or to what house thei shal come. But you may easely perceue by their coloure yt they cary both helth & hipocrisy about them, wherby they get gain, when others want that cannot fayne and dissemble. Others there be that walke sturdely about ye coūtry, & faineth to seke a brother or kinsmā of his, dwelling within som part of ye shier ether that he hath a letter to deliuer to som honest housholder dwelling out of an other shyre, and wil shewe you the same fayre, sealed, with the superscription to Page  [unnumbered] the party he speaketh of, because you shall not thinke him to runne idelly about the countrey, either haue they this shifte, they will ary a certificat or pasport about them from some Iusticer of the peace, with his hand and seale vnto the same, how hee hath bene whipped and punished for a vagabonde according to the lawes of this realme and that he must returne to T. where he was borne or last dwelt, by a certayn day limited in the same, which shalbe a good long day, And all this fayned, because without feare they woulde wickedly wander, and wil renewe the same where or when it pleaseth them: for they haue of their affinitie that can write and reade. These also will picke and steale as the vpright men, and hath their women and méetings at places appoynted, and nothing to them inferiour in all kind of knauery There be of these Roges Curtales, wearing short lokes, that will change their apparell as occasion serueth, and their end is eyther hanging, which they call Trming in their language, or dye miserably of the pockes

¶ There was not long sithens two Roges that always did asso∣ciat themselues togither & would neuer seperat themselues vnles it were for some especiall causes, for thei were sworn brothers, & were both of one age and much like of fauor: these two traueling into east kent, resorted vnto an ale house, being weried with traueling, salu∣ting with short curtesie (when they came into the house) such as thei saw fitting there: in which cōpany was the parson of the parish, and calling for a pot of the best ale, sat down at the tables end: the liquor liked them so well that they had pot vpon pot, & sometime for a little good maner would drink and offer the cup to such as thei best fancied and to be short they sat out al the cōpany, for ech man departed home about their busines: when they had well refreshed themselues, then these rowsy roges requested the good man of the house with his wife to sit down and drink with them: of whom thei inquired what priest the same was and wher he dwelt, then thei faining that they had an vncle a priest, & that he should dwell in these partes which by al pre∣sumptions it should be he, and that they came of purpose to speak wt him, but bicause thei had not seen him sithens they were sire yeares old, they durst not be bold to take acquaintāce of him vntil thei wer farther instructed of the truth, and began to inquire of his name, & how long he had dwelt there, and how far his house was of from y place they wer in, the good wyfe of the house, thinkinge them ho∣nest men without dilceit, bicause they so far enquired of their kins∣man, was ut of a good zelous natural intent, shewed them chéere¦fully Page  [unnumbered] that he was an honest man and wel beloued in the parish and of good welth, and had ben there resident xv. yeares at the least, but saith she, are you both brothers? yea surely said they, wee haue bene both in one belly and were twinnes: mercy God quoth this folishe woman, it may well be, for ye be not much vnlike, & went vnto her hall window calling these yong men vnto her, & looking out pointed. with her finger and shewed them the house standing alone, no house neere the same by almost a quarter of a myle, that sayd she is your vncles house: nay saith one of them he is not onely my vncle, but also my Godfather, it may well be quoth shee, nature will bind him to bee the better vnto you: well quod they, we be weary & mean not to trouble our vncle to night, but to morrow god willinge, wée will see him and do our duty. But I pray you doth our vncle occupye husbandry, what company hath he in his house? alas saith shée, but one old woman & a boy he hath no occupying at all: tush q this good wife you be mad mē, go to him this night for he hath better lodging for you then I haue, and yit I speak folishly against myne own pro∣fit, for by your taring here I should gayn ye more by you Now by my troth q one of them, we thank you good hostes for your holsom coū∣cell, and we meane to do as you will vs, we will pause a whyle and by that tyme it wilbe almost night, and I pray you geue vs a recke∣ning (so manerly paying for that they tooke) had their hoste & hostes farewell with taking leaue of the cup: marched merelye out of the dores towards this parsons house, vewed the same well roūd about and passed by two bowshotes of into a yong wood where they laye consulting what they should do vntill midnight, quoth one of them (of sharper wyt and subtiller then the other) to his fellow, thou seest that this house is stone walled about, and that we cannot wel break in, in any part therof: thou séest also that the windowes be thicke of mullions, that there is no kreeping in betwene, wherfore we must of necessiy vse some pollicy when strength will not serue. I haue a horse locke here about me, saith he, and this I hope shall serue oure turne: so when it was about xii of the clock they came to the house & lurked neere vnto his chamber windowe: the dog of the house bar∣ked a good, that with the noise, this priest waketh out of his sleepe, & began to cough and hem: then one of these roges steps forth necrer the window & maketh a rufull & pityfull noyse, requiring for Christ sake some relief that was both hungry & thirsty and was like to lye without the dores all night and starue for cold, vnles he were relee∣ed by him with some small piece of money. Where dwellest thou, Page  [unnumbered] qthis parson? alas syr sayth this roge. I haue small dwelling, and haue come out of my way: & I should now saith he, go to any towne now at this tyme of night, they would set me in the stockes and pu∣nish me: well quoth this pitifull parson, away from my house, ey∣ther lye in some of my outhouses vntill the morning and hold here is a couple of pence for thée. A God reward you, quoth this roge, & in heauen may you find it. The parson openeth his widow & thru∣steth out his arme to giue his almes to this roge that came whiing to receiue it, and quickly taketh hold of his hand and calleth his fel∣low to him, which was redy at hand with the horse lock & clappeth the same about the wrest of his arme that the mullions stan∣ding so close togither for strēgth, that for his lyfe he could not pluck in his arme again, and made him beleue, vnles he would at the least giue them i•• pound, they would smie of his arme from the body, so that this poore parson in feare to lose his hand, called vp his old wo∣man that lay in the loft oner him, and willed her to take out all the money he had, which was iiij. markes, which he said was all y mo∣ney in his house, for he had lent vi. poūd to one of his neighbors not iiij. dayes before. Wel q they, maister parson if you haue no more, vpon this condicion we will take of the locke that you will drink xij. pence for our sakes to morow at the ale house where he found you & thāk the good wife for the good chere she made vs: be promised faith¦fully that he would so do: so they toke of the lock and went their way so far ere it was day, that the parson coulde neuer haue any vnder∣standing more of them: now this parson sorowfully slumberinge yt night betwene feare and hope, though it was but folly to make two sorows of one, he vsed cōtentation for his remedy, not forgettyng in the morning to performe his promise but wēt betimes to his neigh∣bour that kept tipling, and asked angerly where the same two men were that drank with her yester daye: which two men qthis good wyfe? the straungers that came in, when I was at your house with my neighbors yesterday: what your neuewes q she. My neuews q this parson, I trow thou art mad. Nay by god q this good wife, as so¦ber as you, for they told me faithfully that you wer their vncle, but in faith are you not so in déed, for by my troth they are straungers to me, I neuer saw them before. O out vpon them q the parson, thei be false theues, & this night they cōpelled me to giue them all this mo∣ney in my house. Benedicite q this good wife, & haue they so in déed? as I shall aunswere before god, one of them told me besides yt you were godfather to him and that he trusted to haue your blessinge be∣fore Page  [unnumbered] he departed, what did he, quoth this parson, a halter blesse him for me, me thinketh by the masse by your countenance you loked so wildly when you came in quoth this good wyfe, that somthing was amis I vse not to iest quoth this parson when I speak so earnestly, why all your sorowes goe with it quoth his good wife, & sit downe here and I will fil a freshe pot of ale to make you mery again, yee saith this parson fil in & giue me som meat, for they made me swear and promise them faithfully that I should drinke xij. pence with you this day? what did they quoth she, nowe by the mary masse they bee mery knaues, I warrant you they meane to bye no lande with your money: but how could they come vnto you in the night, your dores being shut fast? your house is very strong, then this parson shewed her all the whole circumstance how he gaue thē his ames, out at the window, they made such lamentable crye, that it pitied him at the hart, for he sawe but one when he put out his hand at the win∣dow, he ruled by me quoth this good wyfe, wherein quoth this par∣son by by troth neuer speake more of it when they shal vnderstand of it in the parish they will but laugh you to skorne, why then quoth this parson the deuill goe with it, and their an ende.