A dialogue conteinyng the nomber in effect of all the prouerbes in the englishe tongue compacte in a matter concernyng two maner of mariages, made and set foorth by Iohn̄ Heywood.

¶The leuenth chapiter.

HE came home to me the next daie before noone. What tidīgs now (quoth I) how haue ye doone? Vpon our departyng (quoth he) yesterdaie Toward myn vncles, somwhat more than mydway, I ouertoke a man, a seruaunt of his, And a frende of myne. who gessed streight with this, What myne errand was, offeryng in the same, To do his best for me, and so in gods name.

Thyther we went, no body beyng within, But myne vncle, myne aunte, and one of our kyn. A madde knaue, as it were a raylyng gester, Not a more gagglyng gander hense to Chester. At syght of me he asked, who haue we there? I haue seen this gentylman, yf I wyst where. Howe be it lo, seldome sene, soone forgotten. He was (as he will be) somwhat cupshotten. Sixe daies in a weeke, beside the market daie, Malt is aboue wheate with hym, market men saie. But for as muche as I sawe, the same taunt Contented well myne vncle and myne aunt, And that I came to fall in, and not fall out, I forbare. or els his dronken red snout I wold haue made as oft chaunge from hew to hew, As doth the cocks of Inde. For this is trew. It is a small hop on my thomb. And Christ wot, It is wood at a woorde. little pot soone whot. Now mery as a cricket, and by and by, Angry as a waspe, though in bothe no cause why. But he was at home there, he myght speake his will. Euery cocke is proude on his owne dunghill. I shall be euen with hym herein whan I can. But he hauyng done, thus myne vncle began. Ye marchant, what attempth you, to attempt vs, To come on vs before the messanger thus. Romyng in and out, I here tell how ye tosse. But sonne, the rollyng stone neuer gatherth mosse. Lyke a pickpurs pilgrym, ye prie and ye proule At rouers, to robbe Peter and paie Poule.

I wys I knowe, er any more be tolde, That draff is your errand, but drynke ye wolde. Vncle (quoth I) of the cause, for whiche I com, I pray you paciently here the hole som. In feyth (quoth he) without any more sūmyng I know to beg of me is thy cūmyng. For sooth (quoth his man) it is so in deede. And I dare boldly bost, yf ye knew his neede, ye wold of pytee yet set hym in some stey. Sonne, better be enuied then pitied, folke sey. And for his cause of pitee (had he had grace) He myght this daie haue been clere out of the case. But now he hath well fisht and caught a frog. Where nought is to wed with, wise men flee the clog. Where I (quoth I) dyd not as ye wyld or bad, That repent I oft, and as oft wyshe I had. Sonne (quoth he) as I haue herde of myn olders, Wishers and wolders be no good householders. This prouerbe for a lesson, with suche other, Not lyke (as who seyth) the sonne of my brother, But lyke myne owne sonne, I ofte before shewd the, To cast her quyte of, but it wolde not be. Whan I wyld the any other where to go, Tushe, there were no mo maydens but malkyn tho. Ye had been lost to lacke your lust, whan ye lyst, By two miles trudgyng twise a weke to be kyst. I would ye had kyst, well I will no more sturre, It is good to haue a hatche before the durre. But how is my saying come to passe now? How oft dyd I prophecie this betwene you,

And your gynyfinee nycebycetur, Whan swete sugar shulde turne to soure salt petur? Wherby ye shulde in seyng, that ye neuer sawe. Thynke that you neuer thought. your selfe a dawe. But that tyme ye thought me a dawe. so that I Dyd no good in all my wordes than, saue onely Approued this prouerbe playn and true mater, A man may well bryng a horse to the water. But he can not make hym drynke without he will. Colts (quoth his man) may proue wel, with tatchis yl For of a ragged colt there comthe a good horse. If he be good now, of his yll past no forse. Well he that hangth hym selfe a sondaie (saied he) Shall hang styll vncut downe a mondaie for me. I haue hangd vp my hatchet, god spede hym well. A wonder thyng what thyngs these old thyngs tell. Cat after kynd good mouse hunt. And also Men sey, kynde wyll crepe where it can not go. These sentences to the I maie assyne By thy father, the said brother of myne. Thou folowist his stepps as ryght as a lyne. For when prouander pryckt him a lytle tyne, He dyd as thou didst. One, on whom he dyd dote, He wedded in haste, with whome he had no grote. And she as lytle with hym. wherby at last They bothe went a beggyng. And euen the like caste Haste thou. thou wilte beg or steale, or thou die, Take hede frende, I haue sene as far come as me. If ye seke to fynde thynges er they be lost, Ye shall fynde one daie you come to your cost.

This doo I but repete, for this I tolde the, And more I say. but I coulde not than holde the. Nor wyll not holde the now: nor suche foly feele, To set at my herte, that thou settest at thy heele. And as of my good, er I one grote gyue, I wyll se how my wyfe, and my selfe shall lyue. Shall I make the laugh now, & my selfe wepe then? Nay good childe, better childern wepe than old men. It is harde to wiue and thriue both in a yere. But by thy wyuyng, thryuyng doth so appere, That thou art past thryft, before thrifte begyn. But lo, will will haue will, though will wo wyn. Will is a good sonne, and will is a shrewde boy. And wilfull shrewde will hath wrought the this toy. A gentill white spurre, and at nede a sure speare. He standth now as he had a flea in his eare. How be it for any great courtesy he doth make, It semth the gentyll man hath eaten a stake. He beareth a dagger in his sleue, truste me, To kyll all that he meteth, prouder than he. Sir (quoth his man) he will no faute defende, But harde is for any man all fautes to mende. He is lyueles, that is fautles, olde folkes thought, He hath (quoth he) but one faute, he is nought. Helpe hym syr (quoth his man) sens ye easily maie. Two fals knaues nede no broker (quoth he) mē saie, The one knaue now crouchith, while thother crauith But to shewe what shall be his releuauith, Either after my deathe, yf my will be kept, Or duryng my lyfe, had I this halle hept

With golde, he maie his parte on good fryday eate, And fast neuer the wurs, for ought he shall geate. Nowe here is the doore, and there is the wey. And so (quoth he) farewell gentill Geffrey. Thus parted I from hym, beyng muche dismaied, Whiche his man saw, and (to comfort me) saied. What man, plucke vp your herte, be of good chere. After clouds blacke, we shall haue wether clere. What shuld your face thus agayn the woll be shorne For one fall? What mā al this wynd shakes no corne. Let this wynde ouerblow. a tyme I will spy, To take wynde and tyde with me, and spede therby. I thanke you (quoth I) but great boste & smal roste, Maketh vnsauery mouthes, where euer men oste. And this boste veraie vnsauourly serueth. For while the grasse groweth, the horse sterueth. Better one byrde in hande than ten in the wood. Rome was not bylt on a daie (quoth he) & yet stood Tyll it was fynysht, as some saie, full fayre. Your hert is in your hose all in dispayre. But as euery man saieth, a dog hath a daie. Shuld you a man, dispayre than any daie? nay. Ye haue many stryngs to the bowe. for ye know, Though I, hauyng the bent of your vncles bow, Can no waie bryng your bolt in the butte to stande, Yet haue ye other marks to roue at, at hande. The kays hang not all by one mans girdill man. Though nought wilbe woon here, I sey, yet ye can Taste other kynsmen, of whom ye maie geat, Here some and there some, many small make a great.

For come lyght wynnyngs with blessyngs or curses, Euermore light gaynes make heuy purses. Children lerne to crepe er they can lerne to go. And little and little, ye must lerne euen so. Throwe no gyft agayne at the giuers head, For better is halfe a lofe then no bread. I maie beg my bread (quoth I) for my kyn all, That dwelth ny, Well, yet (quoth he) & the worst fall, Ye maie to your kynsman, hens nine or ten mile, Rich without charge, whom ye saw not of long while That bench whistler (quoth I) is a pinchepeny. As fre of gyft, as a poore man of his eye. I shall get a fart of a dead man as soone, As a farthyng of hym, his dole is soone doone. He is so hye in thynstep, and so streight laste, That pryde and couetise withdrawth al repaste. Ye knowe what he hath been (quoth he) but ywis, Absence saieth playnely, ye knowe not what he is. Men know (quoth I) I haue herde nowe and then, Howe the market gothe by the market men. Further it is saied, who that saying weyth, It must nedes be true, that euery man seyth. Men saie also, childerne and fooles can not ly. And both man and chylde saieth, he is a heynsby. And my selfe knowth hym, I dare boldly brag, Euen as well as the begger knowth his bag. And I knew hym, not worth a good grey grote. He was at an ebbe. though he be nowe a flote, Poore as the poorest. And now nought he setteth By poore folke. For the paryshe prieste forgetteth,

That euer he hath been holy water clerke. By ought I can now here, or euer coulde marke, Of no man hath he pitee, or compassion. Well (quoth he) euery man after his fassion. He maie yet pitee you, for ought doth appere. It hapth in one houre, that hapth not in. vii. yere. Forspeake not your fortune, nor hyde not your nede. Noght vēter noght haue spare to speke spare to spede Vnknowne vnkyst. it is lost that is vnsought. As good seke nought (quoth I) as seke & find nought It is (quoth he) yll fyshyng before the net. But though we get litle, dere bought and far fet Are deinties for ladies. Go we both too. I haue for my maister thereby to doo. I maie breake a dishe there, and sure I shall Set all at sixe and seuen, to wyn some wyndfall. And I will hang the bell about the cats necke. For I will fyrst breake, and ieobard the fyrst checke. And for to wyn this praie, though the cost be myne, Leat vs present hym with a bottell of wyne. That were (quoth I) as muche almes or nede, As caste water in Thems. or as good a dede, As it is to helpe a dogge ouer a style. Than go we (quoth he) we lese tyme all this while. To folowe his fansy, we went togither. And toward nyght yesternight when we cam thither, She was within, but he was yet abrode. And streight as she sawe me, she swelde like a tode. Pattryng the diuels pater noster to her selfe. God neuer made a more croked crabbed elfe.

She bad hym welcome, but the wors for me. This knaue comth a beggyng, by me thought she. I smelde hir out, and had her streight in the wynde. She maie abyde no beggers of any kynde. They be bothe gredy gutts. all gyuen to get, They care not how. all is fyshe that comth to net. They know no ende of theyr good, nor begynnyng Of any goodnesse. suche is wretched wynnyng. Hunger droppeth euen out of bothe theyr noses. She gothe with broken shone and torne hoses. But who is wurs shod, than the shoemakers wyfe, With shops full of newe shapen shoes all her lyfe. Or who will doo lesse, than they that may doo moste. And namely of hir I can no waie make boste. She is one of theim, to whom god bad who. She will all haue, and will right nought forgo. She will not part with the paryng of hir nayles. She toyleth continually for auayles. Whiche lyfe she hath so long now kept in vre, That for no lyfe she wolde make chaunge, be sure. But this lesson lernde I, er I was yeres seuen, They that be in hell, wene there is none other heuen. She is nothyng fayre, but she is yll fauourd. And no more vnklenly, than vnswete sauourd. But hakney men saie, at mangy hakneys hyer A scalde hors is good ynough for a scabde squier. He is a knuckylbonyard veraie meete To matche a mynion nother fayre nor sweete. But a vengeable wyt, and all his delyte, To geue tauntes and checkes of most spitefull spite.

In that house commonly suche is the cast, A man shall as soone breake his neck as his fast. And yet nowe suche a gyd dyd her head take, That more for my mates than for maner sake, We had bread and drynke, and a chese very greate. But the greattest crabs be not all the best meate, For her crabbed chese, with all the gretnesse, Myght well abyde the fynenesse or swetnesse. Anon he cam in. and whan he vs saw, To my companyon kyndly he dyd draw. And a welfauourd welcom to hym he yeelds, Byddyng me welcom straungely ouer the feelds. With these wordes. ah yong mā I know your mater, By my faith you come to loke in my water. And for my comfort to your consolacion, Ye would, by my purs, gyue me a purgacion. But I am laxatiue ynough there otherwyse. This case (quoth this yonge man) contrary doth rise. For he is purs sycke. and lackth a phisicion. And hopeth vpon you in some condicion. Not by purgacion, but by restoratiue. To strength his weakenesse to kepe hym alyue. I can not (quoth he) for though it be my lot To haue speculacion, yet I practise not. I see muche, but I saie littell, and doo lesse. In this kynd of phisike. and what wolde ye gesse. Shall I consume my selfe, to restore hym now? Nay, backare (quoth Mortymer to his sow) He can before this tyme, no tyme assyne, In whiche he hath laied downe one peny by myne.

That euer might either make me bite or sup. And byr lady frēd. nought ley down nought take vp. To put me to coste, thou canst halfe a score myles. Out of thyne owne nest, seke me in these out yles. Where thou wilt not step ouer a strawe, I thynke, To wyn me the worth of one draught of drynke. No more than I haue wonne of all thy holle stocke. I haue been common Iacke to all that hole flocke. Whan ought was to do, I was common hackney. Folke call on the hors that will cary alwey. But euermore the common hors is worste shod. Desert and reward be oft tymes thyngs far od. At ende I myght put wy wynnyng in myne iye, And see neuer the wors. for ought I wan theim by. And now without theim, I lyue here at staues ende. Where I nede not borow, nor I will not lende. I praie you (quoth he) pitee me a poore man With somwhat, tyll I maie worke as I can. Toward your work (quoth he) ye make such tastings As approue you to be none of the hastyngs, Ye ren to worke in haste as nyne men helde ye. But whan so euer ye to worke must yelde ye. If your meete mate and you meete together. Than shall we see two men beare a fether. Recompensyng former loytryng lyfe loose, As did the pure penitent that stale a goose, And stak downe a fether. And where olde folke tell. That euill gotten good neuer proueth well, Ye will truely get. and true gettyng well kepe, Tyll tyme ye be as riche as a newe shorne shepe.

Howe be it whan thrift and you fell fyrst at a fray, You plaied the man, for ye made thrift ren away. So helpe me god, in my poore opynion, A man might make a plaie of this minyon. And fayn no groūd, but take tales of his own frēds, I suck not this out of myne owne fyngers ends. And sens ye wer wed, although I nought gaue you, Yet praie I for you, god and saint Luke saue you. And here is all. For what shulde I further wade? I was nother of court nor of counsaile made. And it is as I haue lerned in lystnyng, A poore dogge. that is not worth the whistlyng. A daie er I was wedde, I badde you (quoth I) Scarbrough warnyng I had (quoth he) wherby, I kept me thens, to serue the accordyng. And nowe, if this nyghtes lodgyng and bordyng Maie ease the, and ryd me from any more charge, Than welcome. or els get the streyght at large. For of further rewarde, marke how I bost me. In case as ye shall yelde me as ye cost me, So shall ye cost me as ye yelde me lykewyse. Whiche is, a thyng of nought rightly to surmyse. Here withall his wyfe to make vp my mouthe, Not onely her husbands tauntyng tale auouthe, But therto deuiseth to cast in my teeth, Checks and chokyng oysters. And whan she seeth Hir tyme to take vp, to shew my fare at best, Ye se your fare (saied she) set your hert at rest. Fare ye well (quoth I) how euer I fare now. And wel mote ye fare bothe whan I dyne with yow.

Come, go we hens frend (quoth I to my mate) And now will I make a crosse on this gate. For comyng here agayn. Haue we not well wrought? Mē say, as good plai for nought as work for nought Well well (quoth he) we be but where we were. Come what come wold, I thought er we came there. That yf the worst fell. we coulde haue but a naie, There is no harme doone man in all this fray. Neither pot broken, nor yet water spylt. Farewell he (quoth I) I wyll as sone be hylt, As wayte agayne for the moneshyne in the water. But is not this a praty pyked mater? To disdeigne me, who muck of the world hordth not. As he doth, it may ryme but it accordth not. She fometh lyke a bore, the beast shuld seme bolde. For she is as fiers, as a lyon of cotsolde. She fryeth in her owne grease, but as for my parte, If she be angry, beshrew her angry harte. Let passe (quoth he) and let vs be trudgyng. Where some noppy ale is, and softe swete ludgyng. Be it (quoth I) but I wolde very fayne eate. At breakefast and dyner I eete lyttle meate. And two hungry meales make the thyrde a glutton. We went where we had boylde beefe & bake mutton. Wherof I fed me as full as a tunne. And a bed were we er the clocke had nyne runne. Early we rose, in haste to get awaie. And to the hostler this mornyng by daie This felow calde, what how felow, thou knaue, I praie the leat me and my felowe haue

A heare of the dog that bote vs last nyght. And bytten were we both to the brayne aryght, We sawe eche other drunke in the good ale glas, And so dyd eche one eche other, that there was. Saue one, but olde men saie that are skyld, A hard foughten feeld, where no mā scapeth vnkyld. The recknyng reckned, he needs wold pay the shot, And needs he must for me, for I had it not. This doone we shoke hands. and parted in fyne, He into his waie, and I into myne. But this iorney was quite out of my waie. Many kynsfolke and fewe frends, some folke saie. But I fynde many kynsfolke, and frende not one. Folke saie, it hath been saied many yeres sens gone. Proue thy frend er thou haue nede. but in dede, A freende is neuer knowne tyll a man haue nede. Before I had nede, my most present foes Semed my most frends. but thus the worlde goes, Euery man basteth the fat hog we see, But the leane shall burne er he basted be. As seyth this sentence, ofte and long saied before. He that hath plenty of goodes shall haue more. He that hath but a lytle, he shall haue lesse. He y^t hath ryght nought, ryght nought shall possesse. Thus hauīg right nought. & wold somwhat obtayn, With ryght nought (quoth he) I am retornd agayne.