The vvonderfull yeare. 1603 Wherein is shewed the picture of London, lying sicke of the plague. At the ende of all (like a mery epilogue to a dull play) certaine tales are cut out in sundry fashions, of purpose to shorten the liues of long winters nights, that lye watching in the darke for vs.

THE VVONDER∣full yeare.

VErtumnus* 1.1 being attired in his accustomed habit of changeable silke, had newly passed through the first and principall Court-gate of heauen: to whom for a farewell,* 1.2 and to shewe how dutifull he was in his office, Ia∣nus (that beares two faces vnder one hood) made a very mannerly lowe legge, and (be∣cause he was the onely Porter at that gate) presented vnto this King of the Moneths, all the New-yeares gifts, which were more in number, and more worth then those that are giuen to the great Turke, or the Emperour of Persia: on went Vertumnus in his lustie progresse, Priapus, Flora, the Dryades, and Ha••••adryades, with all the woodden rabble of those that drest Orchards & Gardens, perfuming all the wayes that he went, with the swéete Odours that breathed from flow∣ers; hearbes and trées, which now began to péepe out of prison: by vertue of which excellent aires, the skie got a most cleare com∣pletion; lookte s••••g and smoothe, and had not so much as a wart st••••king on her face: the Sunne likewise was freshly and very richly apparelled in cloth of gold like a Bridegroome, and in stead of gilded Rosemary,* 1.3 the hornes of the Ramme, (being the signe of that celestiall bride house where he lay, to be marryed to the Spring) were not like your common hornes parcell gilt, but double double-gilt, with the liquid gold that melted from his beames, for ioy wereof the Larke sung at his windowe euery morning, the Nightingale euery nighte the Cuckooe (like a single

sole Fidler, that réeles from Tauerne to Tauerne) plide it all the day long: Lambes friskte vp and downe in the vallies, Kids and Goates leapt too and fro on the Mountaines: Shepheards sat pi∣ping, country wenches singing: Louers made Sonnets for their Lasses, whilest they made Garlands for their Louers: And as the Country was frolike, so was the Citie mery: Oliue Trées (which grow no where but in the Garden of peace) stood (as com∣mon as Béech does at Midsomer) at euery mans doore, braun∣ches of Palme were in euery mans hand: Stréetes were full of people, people full of ioy: euery house séemde to haue a Lorde of misrule in it, in euery house there was so much ••ollity: no Scritch-Owle frighted the silly Countryman at midnight, nor any Drum the Citizen at noone-day; but all was more calme than a still wa∣ter, all husht, as if the Spheres had bene playing in Consort: In conclusion, heauen lookt like a Pallace, and the great hall of the earth, like a Paradice. But O the short liu'de Felicitie of man! O world of what slight and thin stuffe is thy happinesse! Iust in the midst of this iocund Holy-day, a storme rises in the West:* 1.4 Westward (from the toppe of a Ritch-mount) descended a hidious tempest, that shooke Cedars, terrified the tallest Pines, and cleft in sunder euen the hardest hearts of Oake: And if such great trées were shaken, what thinke you became of the tender Eglantine, and humble Hawthorne; they could not (doubtlesse) but droope, they could not choose but die with the terror. The Ele∣ment (taking the Destinies part, who indéed set abroach this mis∣chiefe) scowled on the earth, and filling her hie forehead full of blacke wrinckles, tumbling long vp and downe (like a great bel∣lyed wife) her sighes being whirlewindes, and her grones thun∣der, at length she fell in labour, and was deliuered of a pale, mea∣gry, weake child, named Sicknesse, whom Death (with a pesti∣lence) would néedes take vpon him to nurse, and did so. This starueling being come to his full growth, had an office giuen him for nothing (and thats a wonder in this age) Death made him his Herauld: attirde him like a Courtier, and (in his name) chargde him to goe into the Priuie Chamber of the English Quéene, to sommon her to appeare in the Star-chamber of heauen.

The sommons made her start, but (hauing an inuincible

spirit) did not amaze her: yet whom would not the certaine newes of parting from a King••ome amaze! But she knewe where to finde a richer,* 1.5 and therefore lightlie regarded the losse of this, and thereupon made readie for that heauenlie Corona∣tion, being (which was most strange) most dutifull to obay, that had so many yeares so powrefully commaunded. She obayed Deaths messenger, and yéelded her body to the hands of death himselfe. She dyed, res••gning her Scepter to posteritie, and her Soule to immortalitie.

To report of her death (like a thunder-clap) was able to kill thousands, it tooke away hearts from millions: for hauing brought vp (euen vnder her wing) a nation that was almost be∣gotten and borne vnder her; that neuer shouted any other Aue than for her name, neuer sawe the face of any Prince but her selfe, neuer vnderstoode what that strange out-landish word Change signified: how was it possible, but that her sicknes should throw abroad an vniuersall feare,* 1.6 and her death an asto∣nishment? She was the Courtiers treasure, therefore he had cause to mourne: the Lawyers sword of iustice, he might well faint: the Merchants patronesse, he had reason to looke pale: the Citizens mother, he might best lament: the Sepheards Goddesse, and should not he droope? Onely the Souldier, who had walkt a long time vpon wodden legs, and was not able to giue Armes, though he were a Gentleman, had brisseld vp the quills of his stiffe Porcupine mustachio, and swore by no beggers that now was the houre come for him to be••••irre his stumps: Usurers and Brokers (that are the Diuels Ingles, and dwell in the long-lane of hell) quak•• like aspen leaues at his oathes: those that before were the onely cut-throates in London, now stoode in feare of no other death: but my Signior Soldado was deceiued, the Tragedie went not forward.

Neuer did the English Nation behold so much black worne as there was at her Funerall: It was then but put on, to try if it were ••it, for the great day of mourning was set downe (in the booke of heauen) to be held afterwards: that was but the dumb shew, the Tragicall Act hath bene playing ••uer since. Her Herse (as it was••borne) s••emed to be an Iland swimming in water, for

round about it there rayned showers of teares, about her death-bed none: for her departure was so sudden and so strange, that men knew not how to wéepe, because they had neuer bin taught to shed teares of that making. They that durst not speake their sorrowes, whisperd them: they that durst not whisper, sent them foorth in sighes. Oh what an Earth-quake is the alteration of a State! Looke from the Chamber of Presence, to the Farmers cottage, and you shall finde nothing but distraction: the whole Kingdome s••emes a wildernes, and the people in it are transfor∣med to wild men. The May of a Countrey so pitifullie distrac∣ted by the horor of a change, if you desire perfectlie to behold, cast your eyes then on this that followes, which being heretofore in priuate presented to the King, I thinke may very worthily shew it selfe before you: And because you shall sée them attirde in the same fashion that they wore before his Maiesity, let these fewe lines (which stood then as Prologue to the rest) enter first into your eares.

NOt for applauses, shallow fooles aduenture, I plunge my verse into a sea of censure, But with a liuer drest in gall, to see So many Rookes, catch-polls of poesy, That feede vpon the fallings of hye wit, And put on cast inuentions, most vnfit, For such am I prest forth in shops and stalls, Pasted in Powles, and on the Lawyers walls, For euery basilisk-eyde Criticks bait, To kill my verse, or poison my conceit: Or some smoakt gallant, who at wit repines, To dry Tabacco with my holesome lines, And in one paper sacrifice more braine, Than all his ignorant scull could ere containe: But merit dreads no martyrdome, nor stroke, My lines shall liue▪ when he shall be all smoke.

Thus farre the Prologne, who leauing the Stage cléer••, the feares that are bred in th•• wombe of this al••ring kingdome

do next step vp, acting thus.

THe great impostume of the realme was draw••e Euen to a head: the multitudino••s spawne Was the corruption, which did make it swell With hop'd sedition (the burnt seed of hell.) Who did expect but ruine, blood, and death, To share our kingdome, and diuide our breath. Religions without religion, To let each other blood, confusion To be next Queene of England, and this yeere The ciuill warres of France to be plaid heere By English-men, ruffians, and pandering slaues, That faine would dig vp gowtie vsurers graues: At such a time, villaines their hopes do honey, And rich men looke as pale as their white money: Now they remoue, and make their siluer sweate, Casting themselues into a couetous heate, And then (vnseene) in the confederate darke, Bury their gold, without or Priest, or Clarke. And say no prayers ouer that dead pelfe, True: Gold's no Christian, but an Indian elfe. Did not the very kingdome seeme to shake Her precious massie limbes? did she not make All English cities (like her pulses) beate With people in their veines? the feare so great, That had it not bene phisickt with rare peace, Our populous power had lessend her increase. The Spring-time that was dry, had sprung in blood, A greater dearth of men, than e're of foode: In such a panting time, and gasping yeare, Victuals are cheapest, only men are deare. Now each wise-acred Landlord did dispaire, Fearing some villaine should become his heire, Or that his sonne and heire before his time, Should now turne villaine, and with violence clime Vp to his life saying father you haue seene

King He••ry, Edward, Mary, and the Queene, I wonder you'le liue longer! then he tells him Hees loth to see him kild, therfore he kills him, And each vast Landlord dyes lyke a poore slaue, Their thousand acres makes them but a graue, At such a time great men conuey their treasure Into the trusty Citie: wayts the leisure Of bloud and insurrection, which warre clips, When euery gate shutts vp her Iron lips, Imagine now a mighty man of dust, Standeth in doubt, what seruant he may trust, With Plate worth thousands: Iewels worth farre more▪ If he proue false, then his rich Lord proues poore: He calls forth one by one, to note their graces, Whilst they make legs he copies out their faces, Examines their eye-browe, consters their beard, Singles their Nose out, still he rests afeard: The first that comes by no meanes heele alow, Has spyed three Hares starting betweene his brow, Quite turnes the word, names it Celeritie, For Hares do run away, and so may he: A second shewne: him he will scarce behold, His beard's too red, the colour of his gold: A third may please him, but tis hard to say, A rich man's pleasde, when his goods part away. And now do cherrup by, fine golden nests Of well hatcht bowles: such as do breed in feasts, For warre and death cupboords of plate downe pulls, Then Bacchus drinkes not in gilt-bowles, but sculls. Let me descend and stoope my verse a while, To make the Comicke cheeke of Poesie smile; Ranck peny-fathers scud (with their halfe hammes, Shadowing their calues) to saue their siluer dammes, At euery gun they start, tilt from the ground, One drum can make a thousand Vsurers sound. In vnsought Allies and vnholesome places, Back-wayes and by-lanes, where appeare fewe faces,

In shamble-smelling roomes, loathsome prospects, And penny-lattice-windowes, which reiects All popularitie: there the rich Cubs lurke, When in great houses ruffians are at worke, Not dreaming that such glorious booties lye Vnder those nasty roofes: such they passe by Without a search, crying there's nought for vs, And wealthie men deceiue poore villaines thus: Tongue-trauelling Lawyers faint at such a day, Lye speechlesse, for they haue no words to say. Phisitions turne to patients, their Arts dry, For then our fat men without Phisick die. And to conclude, against all Art and good, Warre taints the Doctor, lets the Surgion blood.

Such was the fashion of this Land, when the great Land-Lady thereof left it: Shée came in with the fall of the leafe, and went away in the Spring: her life (which was dedicated to Uir∣ginitie, both beginning & closing vp a miraculous Mayden circle: for she was borne vpon a Lady Eue, and died vpon a Lady Eue: her Natiuitie & death being memorable by this wonder: the first and last yeares of her Raigne by this, that a Lee was Lords Maior when she came to the Crowne, and a Lee Lorde Maior when she departed from it. Thrée places are made famous by her for thrée things, Greenewich for her birth, Richmount for her death, White-Hall for her Funerall: vpon her remouing from whence, (to lend our tiring prose a breathing time) stay, and looke vpon these Epigrams, being composed,

1. Vpon the Queenes last Remoue being dead.

THe Queene's remou'de in solemne sort, Yet this was strange, and seldome seene; The Queene vsde to remoue the Court, But now the Court remou'de the Queene.

2. Vpon her bringing by water to White Hall.

THe Queene was brought by water to White Hall, At euery stroake, the Oares ••eares let fall. More clung about the Barge: Fish vnder water Wept out their eyes of pearle, and swom blind after. I thinke the Barge-men might with easier thyes Haue rowde her thither in her peoples eyes: For howsoe're, thus much my thoughts haue skand, S'had come by water, had she come by land.

3. Vpon her lying dead at White Hall.

THe Queene lyes now at White Hall dead, And now at White Hall liuing, To make this rough obiection euen, Dead at White Hall at Westminster, But liuing at White Hall in Heauen.

Thus you sée that both in her life and her death shée was appointed to bee the mirror of her time: And surely, if since the first stone that was layd for the foundation of this great house of the world, there was euer a yeare ordained to be wondred at, it is only this: the Sibils, Octogesimus, Octauus Annus, That same terrible 88.* 1.7 which came sayling hither in the Spanish Ar∣mado, and made mens hearts colder then the frozen Zone, when they heard but an inckling of it: That 88. by whose horrible predictions, Almanack-makers stood in bodily feare their trade would bée vtterly ouerthrowne, and poore Erra Pater was threatned (because he was a Iew) to be put to ••aser offices, than the stopping of mustard••pots: That same 88. which had more prophecies waiting at his héeles, thā euer Merlin the Magitian had in his head, was a yeare o•• Iubile to this. Platoes Mirabilis

Annu••, (whether it be past alreadie, or to come within these foure yeares) may throwe Platoes cap at Mirabilis, for that title of wonderfull is bestowed vpon 1603. If that sacred Aromati∣cally persumed fire of wit (out of whose flames Phoenix poesie doth arise) were burning in any brest, I would féede it with no other stuffe for a twelue-moneth and a day than with kindling papers full of lines, that should tell only of the chances, chan∣ges, and strange shapes that this Protean Climactericall yeare hath metamorphosed himselfe into. It is able to finde ten Chro∣niclers a competent liuing, and to set twentie Printers at worke. You shall perceiue I lye not, if (with Peter Bales) you will take the paines to drawe the whole volume of it into the compasse of a pennie. As first, to begin with the Quéenes death, then the Kingdomes falling into an Ague vpon that. Next, followes the curing of that feauer by the holesome receipt of a proclaymed King. That wonder begat more, for in an houre, two mightie Nations were made one: wilde Ireland became tame on the sudden, and some English great ones that before séemed tame, on the sudden turned wilde: The same Parke which great Iu∣lius Caesar inclosed, to hold in that Déere whome they before hun∣ted, being now circled (by a second Caesar) with stronger pales to kéepe them from leaping ouer. And last of all (if that wonder be the last and shut vp the yeare) a most dreadfull plague. This is the abstract, and yet (like Stowes Chronicle of Decimo sexto to huge Hollinshead) these small pricks in this Set-card of ours, represent mightie Countreys; whilst I haue the quill in my hand, let me blow them bigger.

The Quéene being honoured with a Diademe of Starres, France, Spaine, and Belg••a, lift vp their heads, preparing to do as much for England by giuing ayme, whilst she shot arrowes at her owne brest (as they imagined) as she had done (many a yeare together) for them: and her owne Nation betted on their sides, looking with distracted countenance for no better guests than Ciuill Sedition, Uprores, Rapes, Murders, and Massacres. But the whéele of Fate turned, a better Lottery was drawne, Pro Troia stabat Apol••o, God stuck valiantlie to vs. For behold, vp rises a comfortable Sun out of the North, whose glorious

beames (like a fan) dispersed all thick and contagious clowdes. The losse of a Quéene, was paid with the double interest of a King and Quéene. The Cedar of her gouernment which stood alone and bare no fruit, is changed now to an Oliue, vpon whose spreading branches grow both Kings and Quéenes, Oh it were able to still a hundred paire of writing tables with notes, but to sée the parts plaid in the compasse of one houre on the stage of this new-found world! Upon Thursday it was treason to cry God saue king Iames king of England,* 1.8 and vppon Friday hy•• treason not to cry so. In the morning no voice heard but murmures and lamentation, at noone nothing but shoutes of gladnes & triumpe. S. George and S. Andrew that many hundred yeares had de••••••d one another, were now sworne brothers: England and Scotland (being parted only with a narrow Riuer, and the people of both Empires speaking a language lesse differing than english within it selfe, as the prouidence had enacted, that one day those two Na∣tions should marry one another) are now made sure together, and king Iames his Coronation, is the solemne wedding day. Happiest of all thy Ancestors (thou mirror of all Princes that e∣uer were or are) that at seauen of the clock wert a king but ouer a péece of a little Iland, and before eleuen the greatest Monarch in Christendome. Now

—Siluer Crowds Of blisfull Angels and tryed Marytrs tread On the Star-••eeling ouer Englands head: Now heauen broke into a wonder, and brought forth Our omne bonum from the holesome North (Our fruitfull souereigne) Iamns, at whose dread name Rebellion swounded, and (ere since) became Groueling and nerue-lesse, wanting blo••d to nourish, For Ruine gnawes her selfe when kingdomes flourish, Nor are our hopes planted in regall springs, Neuer to wither, for our aire breedes kings: And in all ages (from this soueraigne time) England shall still be calde the royall clime. Most blisfull Monarch of all earthen powers, Seru'd with a messe of kingdomes, foure such bowers

(For prosperous hiues, and rare industrious swarmes) The world containes not in her solid armes. O thou that art the Meeter of our dayes, Poets Apollo! deale thy Daphnean bayes To those whose wits are bay-trees, euer greene, Vpon whose hye tops, Poesie chirps vnseene: Such are most fit, t'apparell Kings in rimes, Whose siluer numbers are the Muses chimes, Whose spritely caracters (being once wrought on) Out-liue the marble th'are insculpt vpon: Let such men chaunt thy vertue, then they flye On Learnings wings vp to Eternitie. As for the rest, that limp (in cold desert) Hauing small wit, lesse iudgement, and least Art: Their verse! tis almost heresie to heare, Banish their lines some furlong, from thine eare: For tis held dang'rous (by Apolloes signe) To be infected with a leaprous line▪ O make some Adamant Act (n'ere to be worne) That none may write but those that are true-borne: So when the worlds old cheekes shall race and peele, Thy Acts shall breath in Epitaphs of Steele.

By these Comments it appeares that by this time Ling Iames is proclaimed:* 1.9 now does fresh blood leape into the chéekes of the Courtier: the Souldier now hangs vp his armor, and is glad that he shall féede vpon the blessed fruites of peace: the Scholler sings Hymnes in honor of the Muses, assuring himselfe now that Helicon will bée kept pure, because Apollo himselfe drinkes of it. Now the thriftie Citizen casts beyond the Moone, and séeing the golden age returned into the world againe, resolues to worship no Saint but money. Trades that lay dead & rotten, and were in all mens opinion vtterly dambd, started out of their trance, as though they had drunke of Aqua Caelestis, or Unicornes horne, and swore to fall to their olde occupations. Taylors meant no more to be called Merchant-taylors, but Merchants, for their shops were all lead foorth in leases to be turned into ships, and with their sheares (in stead of a Rudder) would they

haue cut the Seas (like Leuant Taffaty) and sayld to the West Indies for no worse stuffe to make hose and doublets of, than beaten gold: Or if the necessitie of the time (which was likely to stand altogether vpon brauery) should presse them to serue with their iron and Spanish weapons vpon their stalls, then was there a sharpe law made amongst them, that no workman should handle any néedle but that which had a pearle in his eye, nor any copper thimble, vnlesse it were linde quite through, or bumbasted with siluer. What Mechanicall hardhanded Uulcanist (séeing the dice of Fortune run so swéetly, and resoluing to strike whilst the iron was hote) but perswaded himselfe to bée Maister or head Warden of the company ere halfe a yeare went about? The worst players Boy stood vpon his good parts, swearing tragicall and busking oathes, that how vilainously soeuer he randed, or what bad and vnlawfull action soeuer he entred into, he would in despite of his honest audience, be halfe a sharer (at least) at home, or else strowle (thats to say trauell) with some notorious wicked sloundring company abroad. And good reason had these time∣catchers to be led into this fooles paradice, for they sawe mirth in euery mans face, the stréetes were plumd with gallants, Tabac∣conists fild vp whole Tauernes: Uintners hung our spicke and span new Iuy bushes (because they wanted good wine) and their old raine-beaten lattices marcht vnder other cullors, hauing lost both company and cullors before. London was neuer in the high way to preferment till now; now she resolued to stand vpon her pantoffles: now (and neuer till now) did she laugh to scorne that worme-eaten prouerbe of Lincolne was, London is, & Yorke shall bée, for she saw her selfe in better state then Ierusalem, she went more gallant then euer did Antwerp, was more courted by amorous and lustie suiters then Venice (the minion of Italy) more loftie towers stood (like a Coronet, or a spangled head-tire) about her Temples, then euer did about the beautifull forehead of Rome: Tyrus and Sydon to her were like two thatcht hou∣ses, to Theobals: y^e grand Cayr but a hogsty. Hinc illae lachrimae, She wept her belly full for all this. Whilst Troy was swilling sack and sugar, and mowsing ••at venison, the made Gréekes made bonefires of their houses: Old Priam was drinking a health ••o

the wooden horse, and before it could be pledgd had his throat cut. Corne is no sooner ripe, but for all the pricking vp of his eares hée is pard off by the shins, and made to goe vpon stumps. Flowers no sooner budded, but they are pluckt vp and dye. Night walks at the héeles of the day, and sorrow enters (like a tauerne-bill) at the taile of our pleasures: for in the Appenine heigth of this immode∣rate ioy and securitie (that like Powles Stéeple ouer lookt the whole Citie) Behold, that miracle-worker, who in one minute ••urnd our generall mourning to a generall mirth, does nowe a∣gaine in a moment alter tha•• gladnes to shrikes & lamentation.

Here would I faine make a full point,* 1.10 because posteritie should not be frighted with those miserable Tragedies, which now my Muse (as Chorus) stands ready to present. Time would thou hadst neuer bene made wretched by bringing them forth: Obliui∣on would in all the graues and sepulchres, whose ranke iawes thou hast already closo vp, or shalt yet hereafter burst open, thou couldst likewise bury them for euer.

A stiffe and fréezing horror sucks vp the riuers of my blood: my haire stands an ende with the panting of my braines: mine eye balls are ready to start out, being beaten with the billowes of my teares: out of my wéeping pen does the inck mournefully and more bitterly than gall drop on the pale••ac'd paper, euen when I do but thinke how the bowels of my sicke Country haue bene torne, Apollo therefore and you bewitching siluer-tongd Muses, get you gone, Inuocate none of your names: Sorrow & Truth, sit you on each side of me, whilst I am deliuered of this deadly burden: prompt me that I may vtter ruthfull and passio∣nate condolement: arme my trembling hand, that it may boldly rip vp and Anotimize the v••cerous body of this Anthropopha∣gized* 1.11 plague: lend me Art (without any counterfeit shadowing) to paint and delineate to the life the whole story of this mortall and pestifero••s battaile, & you the ghosts of those more (by many) then 40000. that with the vir••lent poison of infection haue bene driuen out of your earthly dwellings: you desolate hand-wrin∣ging widowes, that beate your bosomes ouer your departing husbands: you wofully distracted mothers that with disheueld haire falne into swounds, whilst you lye kissing the insensible cold

lips of your breathlesse Infants: you out-cast and downe-troden Orphanes, that shall many a yeare hence remember more fresh∣ly to mourne, when your mourning garments shall looke olde and be for gotten; And you the Genij of all those emptyed fami∣lies, whose habitations are now among the Antipodes: Ioyne all your hands together, and with your bodies cast a ring about me: let me behold your ghastly vizages, that my paper may re∣ceiue their true pictures: Eccho forth your grones through the hollow truncke of my pen, and raine downe your gummy teares into mine Incke, that euen marble bosomes may be shaken with terrour, and hearts of Adamant melt into compassion.

What an vnmatchable torment were it for a man to be ••ard vp euery night in a vast silent Charnell-house? hung (to make it more hideous) with lamps dimly & slowly burning, in hollow and glimmer••ng corners: where all the pauement should in stead of gréene rushes, be strewde with blasted Rosemary: withered Hya∣cinthes, fatall Cipresse and Ewe, thickly mingled with heapes of dead mens bones: the bare ribbes of a father that begat him, lying there: here the Chaplesse hollow scull of a mother that bore him: round about him a thousand Coarses, some standing bolt vp∣right in their knotted winding shéetes: others halfe mouldred in rotten coffins, that should suddenly yawne wide open, filling his nosthrils with noysome stench, and his eyes with the sight of nothing but crawling wormes. And to kéepe such a poore wretch waking, he should heare no noise but of Toads croaking, Screech-Owles howling, Mandrakes shriking: were not this an infer∣nall prison? would not the strongest, harted man (beset with such a ghastly horror) looke wilde? and runne madde? and die? And euen such a formidable shape did the diseased Citie appeare in: For he that durst (in the dead houre of gloomy midnight) haue bene so valiant, as to haue walkt through the still and melancho∣ly stréets, what thinke you should haue bene his musicke? Surely the loude grones of rauing sicke men: the strugling panges of soules departing: In euery house griefe striking vp an Allarum: Seruants crying out for maisters: wiues for husbands, parents for children, children for their mothers: here he should haue met some frantickly running to knock vp Sextons; there, others fear∣fully

sweating with Coffins, to steale forth dead bodies, least the fatall hand-writing of death should seale vp their doores. And to make this dismall consort more full, round about him Bells hea∣uily folling in one place, and ringing out in another: The dread∣fulnesse of such an houre, is in vtterable: let vs goe further.

If some poore man, suddeinly starting out of a swéete and gol∣den slumber, should behold his house flaming about his eares, all his family destroied in their sléepes by the mercilesse fire; himselfe in the very midst of it, wofully and like a madde man calling for helpe: would not the misery of such a distressed soule, appeare the greater, if the rich Usurer dwelling next doore to him, should not stirre, (though he felt part of the danger) but suffer him to perish, when the thrusting out of an arme might haue saued him? O how many thousands of wretched people ha••e acted this poore mans part? how often hath the amazed husband waking, ••ound the comfort of his bedde lying breathlesse by his side! his children at the same instant gasping for life! and his seruants mortally wounded at the hart by sicknes! the distracted creature, beats at death doores, exclaimes at windowes, his cries are sharp inough to pierce heauen, but on earth no ••are is opend to receiue them.

And in this maner do the tedious minutes of the night stretch out the sorrowes of ten thousand: It is now day, let vs looke forth and try what Consolation rizes with the Sun: not any, not any: for before the Iewell o•• the morning be fully set in siluer, hun∣dred hungry graues stand gaping, and euery one of them (as at a breakfast) hath swallowed downe ten or eleuen liuelesse carcases: before dinner, in the same gul••e are twice so many more deuou∣red: and before the sun takes his rest, those numbers are doubled: Thréescore that not many houres before had euery one seuerall lodgi••gs very delicately furnisht, are now thrust altogether into one close roome: a litie noisome roome: not fully ten foote square. Doth not this strike coldly to y^e hart of a worldly mizer? To some, the very sound of deaths name, is in stead of a passing-bell: what shall become of such a coward, being told that the selfe••same bodie of his, which now is so pampered with superfluous fare, so per••u∣med and bathed in odoriferous waters, and so gaily apparelled in varietie of fashiōs, must one day be throwne (like stinking carion) into a rank & rotten graue; where his goodly eies, y^• did once shoote

foorth such amorous gla••ces, must be beaten out of his head: his lockes that hang wantonly dangling, troden in durt vnder-foote: this doubtlesse (like thunder) must néeds strike him into the earth. But (wretched man!) when thou shalt sée, and be assured (by to∣kens sent thée from heauen) that to morrow thou must be tum∣bled into a Mucke-pit, and s••ffer thy body to be bruisde and prest with thréescore dead men, lying ••louenly vpon thée, and thou to be vndermost of all! yea and perhaps halfe of that number were thine enemies! (and sée howe they may be reuenged, for the wormes that bréed out of their putrifying carkasses, shall crawle in huge swarmes from them, and quite deuoure thée) what ago∣nies will this strange newes driue thée into? If thou art in loue with thy selfe, this cannot choose but possesse thée with frenzie. But thou art gotten safe (out of the ciuill citie Calamitie) to thy Parkes and Pallaces in the Country, lading thy asses and thy Mules with thy gold, (thy god), thy plate, and thy Iewels: and the fruites of thy wombe thriftily growing vp but in one onely sonne, (the young Landlord of all thy carefull labours) him also hast thou rescued from the arrowes of infection; Now is thy soule iocund, and thy sences merry. But open thine eyes thou Foole and behold that darling of thine eye, (thy sonne) turnd suddeinly into a lumpe of clay; the hand of pestilence hath smote him euen vnder thy wing: Now doest thou rent thine haire, blaspheme thy Creator, cursest thy creation, and basely descendest into bruitish & vnmanly passions, threatning in despite of death & his Plague, to maintaine the memory of thy childe, in the euerlasting brest of Marble: a tombe must now defen•• him from tempests: and for that purpose, the swetty hinde (that digs the rent he paies thée out of the entrailes of the earth) he is sent for, to conuey foorth that burden of thy sorrow: But no••e how thy pride is disdained: that weather-beaten sun-burnt drudge, that not a month since fawnd vpon thy worship like a Spaniell, and like a bond-slaue, would haue stoopt lower than thy féete, does now stoppe his nose at thy presence, and is readie to set his Mastiue as hye as thy throate, to driue thée from his doore: all thy golde and siluer cannot hire one of those (whom before thou didst scorne) to carry the dead body to his last home: the Country round about thee shun thée, as a Ba∣siliske,

and therefore to London (from whose armes thou coward∣ly fledst away (poast vpon poast must be galloping, to fetch from thence those that may performe that Funerall Office: But there are they so full of graue-matters of their owne, that they haue no leisure to attend thine: doth not this cut thy very heart-strings in sunder? If that doe not, the shutting vp of the Tragicall Act, I am sure will: for thou must be inforced with thine owne handes, to winde vp (that blasted flower of youth (in the last linnen, that euer he shall weare: vpon thine owne shoulders must thou beare part of him, thy amazed seruant the other: with thine owne hands must thou dig his graue, (not in the Church, or common place of buriall,) thou hast not fauour (for all thy riches) to be so happie,) but in thine Orcharde, or in the proude walkes of thy Garden, wringing thy palsie-shaking hands in stead of belles, (most mise∣rable father) must thou search him out a sepulcher.

My spirit growes faint with rowing in this Stygian Ferry, it can no longer endure the transportation of soules in this dole∣full manner: let vs therefore shift a point of our Compasse, and (since there is no remedie, but that we must still bée tost vp and downe in this Mare mortuum) hoist vp all our sailes, and on the merry winges of a lustier winde séeke to arriue on some prospe∣rous shoare.

Imagine then that all this while, Death (like a Spanish Lea∣gar, or rather like stalking Tamberlaine) hath pitcht his tents, (being nothing but a heape of winding shéetes tackt together) in the sinfully-polluted Suburbes: the Plague is Muster-maister and Marshall of the field: Burning Feauers, Boyles, Blaines, and Carbuncles, the Leaders, Lieutenants, Serieants, and Corporalls: the maine Army consisting (like Dunkirke) of a min∣gle-mangle, viz. dumpish Mourners, merry Sextons, hungry Coffin-sellers, scrubbing Bearers, and nastie Graue-makers: but indéed they are the Pioners of the Campe, that are imploy∣ed onely (like Moles) in casting vp of earth and digging of tren∣ches; Feare and Trembling (the two Catch-polles of Death) ar∣rest euery one: No parley will be graunted, no composition stood vpon, But the Allarum is strucke vp, the Toxin ringes out for life, and no voyce heard but Tue, Tue, Kill, Kill; the little

Belles onely (like small shot) d••e yet go•• off, and make no great worke for wormes, a hundred or two l••st in euery skirmish, or so: but alas thats nothing: yet by those desperat sallies, what by open setting vpon them by day, and secret Ambuscadoes by night, the skirts of London were pittifully pared off, by litle and litle: which they within the gates perceiuing, it was no bo••t to bid them take their héeles, for away they trudge thick and thréefold; some riding, some on foote: some without bootes, some in their slippers, by wa∣ter, by land, In shoales swo•• they West-ward, mary to Graues∣end none went vnlesse they be driuen, for whosoeuer landed there neuer came back again: Hacknies, water-men & Wagon••, were not so terribly imployed many a yeare; so that within a short time, there was not a good horse in Smith-field, nor a Coach to be set eye on. For after the world had once run vpon the whéeles of the Pest-cart, neither coach nor caroach durst appeare in his like∣nesse.

Let vs pursue these runnawayes no longer, but leaue them in the vnmercifull hands of the Country-hard-hearted Hobbinolls, (who are ordaind to be their Tormentors,) and returne backe to the stege of the Citie; for the enemie taking aduantage by their ••••ight, planted his ordinance against the walls; here the Canons (like their great Bells) roard: the Plague tooke sore paines for a breach; he laid about him cruelly, ere he could get it, but at length he and his tiranous band entred: his purple colour•• were pre∣sently (with the sound of Bow-bell in stead of a trompet) aduan∣ced, and ioynd to the Standard o•• the Citie; he marcht euen tho∣row Cheapside, and the capitall stréets of Troynouant: the only bl••t of dishonor that struck vpon this Inuader, being this, that he•• plaid•• the tyrant, not the conqueror, making ha••ocke of all, when h•• had all lying at the foote of his mercy. Men, women & children dropt downe before him: houses were ri••led, stréetes 〈◊〉〈◊〉, beautifull maidens throwne on their beds, and rauisht by sick∣nes: rich mens Cofers broken open, and shared amongst prodi∣gall heires and vnthri••tie seruants: poore men vsde poorely, but not pittifully: he did very much hurt, yet some say he did very much good. Howsoeuer he behaued himselfe, this intelligence runs cur∣rant, that euery house lookte like S. Bartholmewes Hospitall,

and euery stréete like Bucklersbury, for poore Methrid••tum and Dragon-water (being both of them in all the world, scarce worth thrée-pence) were ••oxt in euery corner, and yet were both drunk•• euery houre at other mens cost. Lazarus laie groning at euery mans doore, mary no Diues was within to send him a cru••, (for all your Gold-••••nches were fled to the woods) nor a dogge left 〈◊〉〈◊〉 licke vp his sores, for they (like Curres) were knockt downe like Oxen, and fell thicker then Acornes.

I am amazed to remember what dead Marches were made of thrée thousand trooping together; husbands, wiues & children, be∣ing led as ordinarily to one graue, as if they had gone to one bed. And those that ••ould shift for a time, and shrink their heads out of the collar (as many did) yet went they (most bitterly) miching and muffled vp & downe with Rue and Wormewood ••••utt into their ••ares and nosthrils, looking like so many Bores heads stuck with branches of Rosemary, to be serued in for Brawne at Christmas.

This was a rare worlde for the Church, who had wont to complaine for want of liuing, and now had more liuing thrust vp∣on her, than she knew how to bestow: to haue bene Clarke now to a parish Clarke, was better then to serue some foolish Iustic•• of Peace, or than the yeare before to haue had a Bene••ice. Sex∣tons gaue out, if they might (as they hoped) continue these do∣ings but a tweluemoneth longer, they and their posteritie would all ryde vppon footecloathes to the ende of the world. Amongst which worme-eaten generation, the thrée bald Sextons of lim∣pi••g Saint Gyles, Saint Sepulchres, and Saint Olaues, rulde the roaste more hotly, than euer did the Triumuiri of Rome▪ Iehochanan, Symeon, and Eleazar, neuer kept such a plaguy coyle in Ierusalem among the hunger-starued Iewes, as these thrée Sharkers did in their Parishes among naked Christians. Cursed they were I am sure by some to the pitte of hell, for tearing money out of their throates, that had not a crosse in their purses. But alas•• they must haue it, it is their Fee, and therefore giue the Diuell his due: Onely Hearbe-wiues and Gardeners (that neuer prayed before, vnlesse it were for Raine or faire Weather, were now day and night vppon their marybones, that God would blesse the labors of those mole∣catchers,

because they sucke sweetnesse by this; for the price of ••low••rs, Hearbes and garlands, rose wonderfully, in so much that Rosemary which had wont to be sold for 12. pence an armefull, went now for six shillings a handfull.

A fourth sharer likewise (these winding-shéete-weauers) deserues to haue my penne giue his lippes a Iewes Letter, but because he worships the Bakers good Lord & Maister, charitable S. Clement (whereas none of the other thrée euer had to do with any Saint) he shall scape the better▪ only let him take heede, that hauing all this yeare buried his praiers in the bellies of Fat ones, and plump Capon-eaters, (for no worse meat would downe this Bly-foxes stomach) let him I say take héee least (his flesh now falling away, his carcas be not plagude with leane ones, of whom (whilst the ••ill of Lord haue mercy vpon vs, was to be denied in no place) it was death for him to heare.

In this pittifull (or rather pittilesse) perplexitie stood London; forsaken like a Louer, forlorne like a widow, and disarmde of all comfort: disarmde I may well say, for fiue Rapiers were not stir∣ring all this time, and those that were worne, had neuer bin séene, if any money could haue bene lent vpon them, so hungry is the Estridge disease, that it will ••euoure euen Iron: let vs therefore with bag & baggage march away from this dangerous sore Citie, and visit those that are fled into the Country. But alas! Decidis in Scyllam, you are pepperd if you visit them, for they are visi∣ted alreadie: the broad Arrow of Death, flies there vp & downe, as swiftly as it doth here: they that rode on the lust••est geldings, could not out-gallop the Plague, It ouer-tooke them, and ouer∣turnd them too, horse and foote.

You whom the arrowes of pestilence haue reache at eightéen and twenty score (tho you stood far enough as you thought frō the marke (you that sickning in the hie way, would haue bene glad of a bed in an Hospitall, and dying in the open fieldes, haue bene buried like dogs, how much better had it bin for you, to haue ly•••• ••uller of byles & Plague-sores than euer did Iob, so you might in that extremity haue receiued both bodily & spiritual comfort, which there was denied you? For those misbeléeuing Pagans, the plough-driuers, those worse then Infidels, that (like their▪ Swine

neuer looke vp so high as Heauen: when Citizens boorded them they wrung their hands, and wisht rather they had falne into the hands of Spaniards: for the sight of a flat-cap was more dread∣full to a Lob, then the discharging of a Caliuer: a treble-ruffe (being but once named the Merchants set) had power to cast a whole houshold into a cold sweat. If one new suite of Sackcloth had béene but knowne to haue come out of Burchin-lane (being the common Wardrope for all their Clowne-ships) it had béene enough to make a Market towne giue vp the ghost. A Crow that had béene séene in a Sunne-shine day, standing on the top of Powles, would haue béene better than a Beacon on sire, to hau•• raizd all the townes within ten miles of London, for the kéeping her out.

Neuer let any man aske me what became of our Phisitions in this Massacre, they hid their Synodicall heads aswell as the prowdest: and I cannot blame them, for their Phlebotomies, Lo••inges, and Electuaries, with their Di••catholicons, Diacodi∣ons, Amulets, and Antidotes, had not so much strength to hold life and soule together, as a pot of Pinders Ale and a Nutmeg: their Drugs turned to durst, their simples where simple things: Galen could do no more good, than Sir Giles Goosecap: Hipo∣crates, Auicen, Paraselsus, Rasis, Fernelius, with all their suc∣céeding rabble of Doctors and Water-casters, were at their wite end, or I thinke rather at the worlds end, for no•• one of them durst péepe abroad; or if any one did take vpon him to play the ventrous Knight, the Plague pu•• him to his Nonpl••s; in such strange, and such changeable shapes did this Camel••on∣like si••k••es appeare, that they could not (with all the cunning in their budgets) make pursen••ts to take him napping.

Onely a band of Desper-vewes, some fewe Empiricall mad∣caps (for they could neuer be worth veluet caps) tu••ned them∣selues into Bées (or more properly into Drones) and went humming vp and downe, with hony-brags in their mouthes, sucking the swéetnes of Siluer (and now and then of Aurum Potabile) out of the poison of Blaines and Carbuncles: and these iolly Mountibanks clapt vp their bils vpon euery po••t (like a Fencers Challenge) threatning to canuas the Plague, and to

••••ght with him at all his owne seuerall weapons: I know not how they sped, but some they sped I am sure, for I haue heard ••hem band for the Heauens, because they sent those thither, that were wisht to tarry longer vpon earth.

I could in this place make your chéekes looke pale, and your hearts shake, with telling how some haue had 18▪ sores at one time running vpon them, others 10. and 12. many 4. and 5. and how those that haue bin foure times wounded by this yeares infection, haue dyed of the last wound, whilst others (that wer•• hurt as often) goe vp and downe now with sounder limmes, then many that come out of France, and the Nether-lands. And descending from these, I could draw forth a Catalogue of many poore wretches, that in fieldes, in ditches, in common Cages, and vnder stalls (being either thrust by cruell maister•• out of doores, or wanting all worldly succour but the common benefit of earth and aire) haue most miserably perished. But to Chronicle these would weary a second Fabian.

We will therefore play the Souldiers, who at the end of any notable battaile, with a kind of sad delight rehearse the memo∣rable acts of their friends that lye mangled before them: some shewing how brauely they gaue the onset: some, how politickly they retirde: others, how manfully they gaue and receiued wounds: a fourth steps forth, and glories how valiantly hée lost an arme: all of them making (by this meanes) the remembrance euen of tragicall and mischieuous euents very delectable. Let vs striue to do so, discoursing (as it were at the end of this mortall stege of the Plague) of the seuerall most worthy accidents, and strange birthes which this pestiferous yeare hath brought ••oorth∣some of them yéelding Comicall and ridiculous stuffe, others la∣mentable: a third kind, vpholding rather admiration, then laugh∣ter or pittie.

As first, to rellish the pallat of lickerish expectation, and with∣all to giue an Item how sudden a stabber this ruffianly swagge∣rer (Death) is, You must belée••e, that amongst all the weary number of those that (on their bare féete) haue trauaild (in this long and heauie vocation) to the Holy-land, one (whose name I could for néede bestow vpon you) but that I know you haue no

néed of it, tho many want a good name) lying in that cōmon Inn•• of sick-men, his bed, & séeing the black & blew stripes of the plague sticking on his flesh, which he receiued as tokens (from heauen) that he was presently to goe dwell in the vpper world, most ear∣nestly requested, and in a manner coniured his friend (who came to enterchange a last farewell) that hée would see him goe handsomely attirde into the wild Irish countrey of wormes, and for that purpose to bestow a Coffin vpon him: his friend louing him (not because he was poore (yet he was poore) but because hee was a Scholler: Alack that the West Indies stand so farre from Uniuersities! and that a minde richly apparelled should haue a thréed-bare body!) made faithfull promise to him, that he should be naild vp, he would boord him, and for that purpose went in∣stantly to one of the new-found trade of Coffin-cutters, bespake one, and (like the Surueyour of deaths buildings) gaue direction how this little Tenement should be framed, paying all the rent for it before hand. But note vpon what slippery ground, life goes! l••ttle did he thinke to dwell in that roome himselfe which he had taken for his friend: yet it seemed the common law of mortalitie had so decréede, for hée was cald into the colde companie of his gra••e neighbours an houre before his infected friend, and had a long lease (euen till doomes day) in the same lodging, which in the strength of health he went to prepare for another. What credit therefore is to be giuen to breath, which like an harlot will runne away with euery minute. How nimble is sickenesse, and what skill hath he in all the weapons he playes withall? The greatest cutter that takes vp the Mediterranean Ile in Powles for his Gallery to walke in, cannot ward off his blowes. Hées the best Fencer in the world: Vincentio Sauiolo is no body to him: He has his Mandrit••aes, Imbrocataes, Stramazones, and S••occataes at his ••ingers ends: heele make you giue him ground, though y•• were neuer worth foote of land, and beat you out of breath, though Aeolus himselfe plai•• vpō your wind-pipe.

To witnes which, I will call forth a Dutch-man (yet now hées past calling for, has lost his hearing, for his eares by this time are eaten off with wormes) who (though hée dwell in Bed∣lem) was not mad, yet the very lookes of the Plague (which

indéed are terrible) put him almost out of his wits, for when the snares of this cunning hunter (the Pestilence) were but newly. layd, and yet layd (as my Dutch-man semlt it out well enough) to intrap poore mens liues that meant him no hurt, away sneakes my clipper of the kings english, and (because Musket-shot should not reach him) to the Low-countries (that are built vpon butter∣••irkins, and Holland chéese) sailes this plaguie fugitiue, but death, (who hath more authoritie there than all the seauen Electors, and to shew him that there were other Low-countrey besides his owne) takes a little Frokin (one of my Dutch runnawayes children) and sends her packing, into those Netherlands shée de∣parted: O how pitifully lookt my Burgomaister, when he vn∣derstood that the sicknes could swim! It was an easie matter to scape the Donkirks, but Deaths Gallyes made out after him swifter then the great Turkes. Which he perceiuing, made no more adoo, but drunke to the States fiue or sixe healths (because he would be sure to liue well) and backe againe comes he, to try the strength of English Béere: his old Randeuous of mad-men was the place of meeting, where he was no sooner arriued, but the Plague had him by the backe, and arrested him vpon an Exeat Regnum, ••or running to the enemie, so that for the mad tricks he plaid to cozen our English wormes of his Dutch carkas (which had béene fatted héere) sicknesse and death clapt him vp in Bedlem the second time, and there he lyes, and there he shall lye till he rot before ile meddle any more of with him.

But being gotten out of Bedlem, let vs make a iourney to Bristow, taking an honest knowne Citizen along with vs, who with other company trauailing thither (onely for feare the aire of London should conspire to poison him) and setting vp his rest not to heare the sound of Bow-bell till next Christmas, was not∣withstanding in the hye way singled out from his company, and set vpon by the Plague, who had him stand, and deliuer his life. The rest at that word shifted for themselues, and went on, hée (amazed to sée his friends flye, and being not able to defend him∣selfe, for who can defend himselfe meeting such an enemy?) yéel∣ded, and being but about fortie miles from London, vsed all the slights he could to get loose out of the handes of death, and so to

hide himselfe in his owne house, whereupon, he calld for help at the same Inne, where not long before he and his fellowe pil∣grimes obtained for their money (mary yet with more prayers then a beggar makes in thrée Termes) to stand and drinke some thirtie foote from the doore. To this house of tipling iniquitie hée repaires againe, coniuring the Lares or walking Sprites in it, if it were Christmas (that it was well put in) and in the name of God, to succor and rescue him to their power out of the handes of infection, which now assaulted his body: the Diuell would haue bene afraid of this coniuration, but they were not, yet afraid they were it séemed, for presently the doores had their woodden ribs crusht in pieces, by being beat••n together: the casements were shut more close than an Usurers greasie veluet powch: the drawing windowes were hangd, drawne, and quartred: not a creuis but was stopt, not a mouse-hole left open, for all the holes in the house were most wickedly dambd vp: mine Hoste and Hostesse ranne ouer one another into the backe-side, the maydes into the Orchard, quiuering and quaking, and ready to hang themselues on the innocent Plumb trées (for hanging to them would not be so sore a death as the Plague, and to die maides too! O horrible!) As for the Tapster, he fled into the Cellar, rapping out fiue or sixe plaine Countrey oathes, that hée would drowne himselfe in a most villanous Stand of Ale, if the sicke Londoner stoode at the doore any longer. But stand there he must, for to go away (well) he cannot, but continues knocking and calling in a faint voyce, which in their eares sounded, as if some staring ghost in a Tragedie had exclaimd vpon Rhadamanth: he might knocke till his hands akte, and call till his heart akte for they were in a worse pickle within, then hée was without: hée being in a good way to go to Heauen, they being so frighted, that they scarce knew whereabout Heauen stoode, onely they all cryed out, Lord haue mercie vpon vs, yet Lord haue mercy vpon vs was the on∣ly thing they feared. The dolefull catastrophe of all is, a bed could not be had for all Babilon: not a cup of drinke, no, nor cold water be gotten, though it had 〈◊〉〈◊〉 or Alexander the great:〈◊〉〈◊〉 a draught of Aqua••v••tae might haue saued his soule, the towne denyed to do God that good seruice.

What miserie continues euer? the poore man standing thu•• at deaths doore, and looking euery minute when he should bee let in, behold, another Londoner that had likewise bene in the Frigi∣da zona of the Countrey, and was returning (like Aeneas out of hell) to the heauen of his owne home, makes a stand at this sight, to play the Physition, and seeing by the complexion of his pati∣ent that he was sicke at heart, applies to his soule the best medi∣cines that his comforting spéech could make, for there dwell no Poticary néere enough to helpe his body. Being therefore dri∣uen out of all other shi••tes, he leads him into a field (a bundle of Stawe, which with much adoe he bought for money, seruing in stead of a Pillow.) But the Destinies hearing the diseased partie complaine and take on, because hée lay in a field••bedde, when before hee would haue beene glad of a mattresse, for very spight cut the threade of his life, the crueltie of which déede made the other that playd Charities part) at his wittes end, because hée knew not where to purchase tenne foote of ground for his graue: the Church nor Churchyard would let none of their lands. Mai∣ster Uiear was strucke dumbe, and could not giue the dead a good word, neither Clarke nor Sexton could be hired to execute their Office; no, they themselues would first be executed: so that he that neuer handled shouell before, got his implements about him, ripped vp the belly of the earth, and made it like a graue, stript the colde carcasse, bound his shirt about his téete, pulled a linnen night cappe ouer his eyes, and so layde him in the rot∣ten bedde of the earth, couering him with cloathes cut out of the same piece: and learning by his last words his name and habi∣tation, this sad Trauailer arriues at London, deliuering to the amazed widdow and children, in stead of a father and a husband, onely the out-side of him, his apparell. But by the way note one ••hing, the bringer of these heauy tydings (as if he had liued long enough when so excellent a worke of pietie and pittie was by him finished) the very next day after his comming home, d••parted out of this world, to receiue his reward in the Spirituall Court of heauen.

It is plaine therefore by the euidence of these two witnesses, that death, like a thiefe, sets vpon men in the hie way, dogs them

into their owne houses, breakes into their bed chambers by night, assaults them by day, and yet no law can take hold of him: he deuoures man and wife: offers violence to their faire daugh∣ters: kils their youthf••ll sonnes, and deceiues them of their ser∣uants: yea, so full of trecherie is he growne (since this Plague tooke his part) that no Louers dare trust him, nor by their good wils would come neare him, for he workes their downfall, euen when their delights are at the highest.

Too ripe a proofe haue we of this, in a paire of Louers; the maide was in the pride of fresh bloud and beautie: she was that which to be now is a wonder, yong and yet chaste: the gifts of her mind were great, yet those which fortune bestowed vpon her (as being well descended) were not much inferiour: On this louely creature did a yong man so stedfastly ••ixe his eye, that her lookes kindled in his bosome a desire, whose ••••ames burnt the more brightly, because they were fed with swéet and modest thoughts: Hymen was the God to whome he prayed day and night that he might marry her: his praiers were receiued, at length (after many tempests of her deniall, and frownes of kinsfolk) the element grew cléere, & he saw y^e happy landing place, where he had long sought to ariue: the prize of her youth was made his own, and the solemne day appointed when it should be deliuered to him. Glad of which blessednes (for to a louer it is a blessednes) he wrought by all the possible art he could vse to shorten the expected houre, and bring it néerer: for, whether he feared the interception of parents, or that his owne soule, with excesse of ioy, was drowned in strange passions, he would often, with sighs mingled with kis∣ses, and kisses halfe sinking in ••eares, prophetically tell her, that sure he should neuer liue to enioy her. To discredit which opi∣nion of his, behold, the sunne had made hast and wakened the bridale morning. Now does he call his heart traitour, that did so ••alsly conspire against him: liuely bloud leapeth into his chéekes: hees got vp, and gaily attirde to play the bridegroome, shée likewise does as cunningly turne her selfe into a bride: kindred and friends are mette together, soppes and muscadine run sweating vp and downe till they drop againe, to comfort their hearts, and beca••se so many coffins pestred London Churches,

that there was no roome left for weddings, Coaches are proui∣ded, and away rides all the traine into the Countrey. On a monday morning are these lustie Louers on their iourney, and before noone are they alighted, entring (insteade of an Inne) for more state into a Church, where they no sooner appeared, but the Priest fell to his busines, the holy knot was a tying, but he that should fasten it, comming to this, In sickenesse and in health, there he stopt, for sodainly the bride tooke holde of, in sick∣nes, for in health all that stoode by were in feare shee should ne∣uer be kept. The maiden-blush into which her chéekes were lately died, now beganne to loose colour: h••r voyce (like a co∣ward) would haue shrunke away, but that her Louer reaching her a hand, which he brought thither to giue her, (for hée was not yet made a full husband) did with that touch somewhat reuiue her: on went they againe so farre, till they mette with For better, for worse, there was she worse than before, and had not the holy Officer made haste, the ground on which shée stood to be marryed might easily haue béene broken vp for her buryall. All ceremonies being finished, she was ledde betwéene two, not like a Bride, but rather like a Coarse, to her bed: That; must now be the table, on which the wedding dinner is to be serued vppe (being at this time, nothing but teares, and sighes, and lamen∣tation) and Death is chiefe waiter, yet at lenght her weake heart wrastling with the pangs, gaue them a fall, so that vp shée stoode againe, and in the fatall funerall▪ Coach that carried her forth, was she brought back (as vpon a béere) to the Citie: but sée the malice of her enemy that had her in chase, vpon the wens∣day following being ouertaken, was her life ouercome, Death rudely lay with her, and spoild her of a maiden head in spite of her husband. Oh the sorrow that did round beset him! now was his diuination true, she was a wife, yet continued a maide: he was a husband and a widdower, yet neuer knew his wife: she was his owne, yet he had her not: she had him, yet neuer enioyed him: héere is a strange alteration, for the rosemary that was washt in swéete water to set out the Bridall, is now wet in teares to fur∣nish her buriall: the musike that was heard to sound forth dances, can not now he heard for the ringing of belles: all the comfort

that happened to either side being this, that he lost her, before she had time to be an ill wife, and she left him, ere he was able to be a bad husband.

Better fortune had this Bride, to fall into the handes of the Plague, then one other of that fraile female sex, (whose picture is next to be drawne) had so scape out of them. An honest cobler (if at least coblers can be honest, that liue altogether amongest wicked soales) had a wife, who in the time of health treading her shooe often away, determined in the agony of a sicknesse (which this yeare had a saying to her) to fall to mending aswell as her husband did. The bed that she lay vpon (being as she thought or rather feared) the last bed that euer should beare her, (for ma∣ny other beds had bo••ne her you must remember) and the worme of sinne tickling▪ her conscience, vp she calls her very innocent and simple husband out of his vertuous shoppe, where like Iu∣stice he sat distributing amongst the poore, to some, halfe-penny peeces, penny péeces to some, and two-penny peeces to others, so long as they would last, his prouident care being alway, that euery man and woman should goe vpright. To the beds side of his plaguy wire approacheth Monsieur Cobler, to vnderstand what deadly newes she had to tell him, and the rest of his kinde neighbours that there were assembled: such thicke teares stan∣ding in both the gutters of his 〈◊〉〈◊〉, to sée his beloued lie in such a pickle, that in their salt water, all his vtterance was drownd: which she perceiuing, wept as fast as he: But by the warme counsell that sat about the bed, the shower ceast, she wiping her chéekes with the corner of one of the shéetes: and he, his sullie•• face, with his leatherne apron. At last, two or thrée sighes (like a Chorus to the tragedy ensuing) stepping out first, wringing her handes (which gaue the better action) shée told the pittifull Actaeon her husband, that she had often done him wrong: hee onely shooke his head at this, and cried humh! Which humh, she taking as the watch-word of his true patience, vnraueld the bot∣tome of her frailetie at length, and concluded, that with such a man (and named him, but I hope you would not haue me follow her steppes and name him too) she practised the vniuersall & com∣mon Art of grafting, and that vpon her good mans head, they

two had planted a monstrous paire of inuisible hornes: At the sound of the hornes, my cobler started vppe like a march Hare, and began to looke wilde: his awle neuer ranne through the sides of a boote, as that word did through his heart: but being a polli∣ticke cobler, and remembring what péece of worke he was to vn∣der-lay, stroking his beard, like some graue headborough of the Parish, and giuing a nodde, as who should say, goe on, bade her goe on indéed, clapping to her sore soule, this generall salue, that All are sinnes, and we must forgiue, &c. For hée hoped by such wholesome Phisicke, (as Shooemakers waxe being laide to a byle) to draw out all the corruption of her secret villanies. She good heart being tickled vnder gilles, with the finger of these kind spéeches, turnes vp the white of her eye, and fetches out an other. An other, O thou that art trained vp in nothing but to handle péeces:) Another hath discharged his Artillery against thy castle of fortification: here was pass••on predominant: Vul∣can strooke the coblers ghost (for he was now no cobler) so hardy vpon his breast, that he cryed Oh! his neighbours taking pitte to sée what terrible stitches pulld him, rubde his swelling tem∣ples with the iuice of patience, which (by vertue of the blackish sweate that stoode reaking on his browes, and had made them supple) entred very easily into his now-parlous-vnderstanding scull: so that he left wenching, and sate quiet as a Lamb, falling to his old vomite of councell, which he had cast vp before, and swearing (because he was in strong hope, this shoo should wring him no more) to seale her a generall acquittance, prick•• forward with this gentle spur, her tongue mends his pace, so that in her confession shée ouertooke others, whose po••tes had béene set all night on the Coblers laast, bestowing vppon him the poe sie of their names, the time, and place, to thin tent it might be put in to his next wifes wedding ring. And although shée had made all these blots in his tables, yet the bearing of one man false (whom she had not yet discouered) stucke more in her stomacke than all the rest, O valiant Cobler, cries out one of the Auditors, how art thou set vpon? how are thou tempted? happy arte thou, that thou art not in thy shop, for in stead of cutting out péeces of lea∣ther, thou wouldst doubtlesse now pare away thy hart: for I sée,

and so do all thy neighbours here (thy wifes ghostly fathers) sée that a small matter would now cause thée turne turk, & to meddle with no more patches: but to liue within the compasse of thy wit: lift not vp thy collar: be not horne mad: thanke heauen that the murther is reueald: study thou Baltazars Part in Ieronimo, for thou hast more cause (though lesse reason) than he, to be glad and sad.

Well, I sée thou art worthy to haue patient Griseld to thy wife, for thou bearest more than she: thou shewst thy selfe to be a right cobler, and no sowter, that canst thus cleanely clowt vp the seam-rent sides of thy affection. With this learned Oration the Cobler was tutord: layd his singer on his mouth, and cried pau∣cos palabros: he had sealed her pardon, and therefore bid her not feare: héervpon he named the malefactor, I could name him too, but that he shall liue to giue more Coblers heads the Bastinado. And told, that on such a night when he supt there (for a Lord may sup with a clobler, that hath a pretty wench to his wife) when the cloth, O treachero••s linnen! was taken vp, and Menelaus had for a parting blow, giuen the other his fist: downe she lights (this half-sharer) opening the wicket, but not shutting him out of the wicket, but conu••is him into a byroom (being the wardrob of old shooes and leather) from whence the vnicorne cobler (that dream•• of no such spirits) being ouer head and eares in sléepe, his snorting giuing the signe that he was cock-sure, softly out-steales sir Paris, and to Helenaes téeth prooued himselfe a true Troian.

This was the creame of her confusion, which being skimd off from the stomach of her conscience, we looked euery minute to goe thither, where we should be farre enough out of the Cob∣lers reach. But the Fates laying their heades together, s••nt a repriue, the plague that before meant to p••pper her, by little and little left her company: which newes being blowne abro••d, Oh lamentable! neuer did the olde buskind tragedy beginne till now: for the wiues of those husbands, with whom she had playd at fast and loose, came with nayles sharpened for the nonce, like cattes, and tongues forkedly cut like the stings of adders, fi••st to scratch out false Cressidaes eyes, and then (which was worse) to worry her to dath with scolding.

But the matter was tooke vp in a Tauerne; the case was altered, and brought to a new reckoning (mary the blood of the Burdeaux grape was first shead about it) but in the end, all anger on euery side was powred into a pottle pot, & there burnt to death. Now whether this Recantation was true, or whether the stéeme of infection, fuming vp (like wine) into her braines, made her talke thus idlely, I leaue it to the Iury.

And whilst they are canuasing her case, let vs sée what dooings the Sexton of Stepney hath: whose ware-houses being all full of dead commodities, sauing one: that one hée left open a whole night (yet was it halfe full too) knowing y^• théeues this yeare were too honest to break into such cellers. Besides those that were left there, had such plaguy pates, that none durst meddle with them for their liues. About twelue of the clock at midnight, when spi∣rites walke, and not a mowse dare stirre, because cattes goe a catter-walling: Sinne, that all day durst not shew his head, came réeling out of an ale-house, in the shape of a drunkard, who no sooner smelt the winde, but he thought the ground vnder him danced the Canaries: houses séemed to turne on the toe, and all things went round: insomuch, that his legges drew a paire or Indentures, betwéene his body and the earth, the principal co∣uenant being, that he for his part would stand to nothing what euer he saw: euery trée that came in his way, did he iustle, and yet chalenge it the next day to fight with him. If he had clipt but a quarter so much of the Kings siluer, as he did of the kings eng∣lish, his carkas had long ere this bene carrion for Crowes. But, he liued by gaming, and had excellent casting, yet seldome won, for he drew reasonable good hands, but had very bad feete, that were not able to carry it away. This setter vp of Malt-men, be∣ing troubled with the staggers, fell into the selfe-same graue, that stood gaping wide open for a breakfast next morning, and imagi∣ning (when he was in) that he had stumbled into his owne house, and that all his bedfellowes (as they were indéede) were in their dead sléepe, he, (neuer complaining of colde, nor calling for more shéete) soundly takes a nap til he snores again: In the morning the Sexton comes plodding along, and casting vpon his fingers ends what he hopes y^e dead pay of that day will come too, by that

that which he receiued the day before, (for Sextons now had bet∣ter doings than either Tauernes or bawdy-houses) In that sil∣uer contemplation, shrugging his shoulders together, he steppes ere he be aware on the brimmes of that pit, into which this wor∣shipper of Bacchus was falne, where finding some dead mens bones, and a scull or two, that laie scattered here and there; be∣fore he lookt into this Coffer of wormes, those he takes vp, and flinges them in: one of the sculls battered the sconce of the sléeper, whilst the bones plaide with his nose; whose blowes waking his mustie worship, the first word that he cast vp, was an oath, and thinking the Cannes had flyen about, cryed zoundes, what do you meane to cracke my mazer? the Sexton smelling a voice, (feare being stronger than his heart) beléeued verily some of the coarses spake to him, vpon which, féeling himselfe in a cold sweat, tooke his héeles, whilst the Goblin scram••led vp and ranne after him: But it appeares the Sexton had the lighter foote, for he ran so fast, that hee ranne out of his wittes, which being left behinde him, he had like to haue dyed presently after.

A meryer bargaine than the poore Sextons did a Tincker méete withall in a Countrey Towne; through which a Citi∣zen of London being driuen (to kéepe himselfe vnder the lée∣shore in this tempest••ous contagion) and casting vp his eye for some harbour, spied a bush at the ende of a pole, (the auncient ••adge of a Countrey Ale-house:) Into which as good lucke was, (without any resistance of the Barbarians, that all this yeare v∣sed to kéepe such landing places) veiling his Bonnet, he strucke in. The Host had bene a mad Greeke, (mary he could now speake nothing but English,) a goodly fat Burger he was, with a belly Arching out like a Béere-barrell, which made his legges (that were thicke & short, like two piles driuen vnder London-bridge) to stradle halfe as wide as the toppe of Powles, which vpon my knowledge hath bene burnt twice or thrice. A leatherne pouch hung at his side, that opened and shut with a Snap-hance, and was indéed a flaske for gun-powder when King Henry went to Bulloigne. An Antiquary might haue pickt rare matter but of his Nose, but that it was worme-eaten (yet that proued it to

be an auncient Nose:) In some corners of it, there were blewish holes that shone like shelles of mother of Pearle, and to too his nose right, Pearles had bene gathered out of them: other were richly garnisht with Rubies, Chrisolites and Car••unckles, which glistered so oriently, that the Hamburgers offered I know not how many Dollars, for his companie in an East-Indian voyage, to haue stoode a nightes in the Poope of their Admirall, onely to saue the charges of candles. In conclusion, he was an Host to be ledde before an Emperour, and though he were o••e of the greatest men in all the shire, his bignes made him not proude, but he humbled himselfe to speake the base language of a Tapster, and vppon the Londoners first arri∣uall, cryed welcome, a cloth for this Gentleman: the Linnen was spread, and furnisht presently with a new Cake and a Can, the roome voided, and the Guest left (like a French Lord) at∣tended by no bodie: who drinking halfe a Can (in conceit) to the health of his best friend in the Citie, which laie extreame ••icke, and had neuer more néed•• of health, I knowe not what qualmes came ouer his stomach, but immediately he fell downe without vttering any more wordes, and neuer rose a∣gaine.

Anon (as it was his fashion) enters my puffing Host, to re∣lieue with a fresh supply out of his Celler,) the shrinking Can, if hée perceiued it stoode in daunger to be ouerthrowne. But séeing the chiefe Leader dropt at his féete, and imagining at first hée was but wounded a little in the head, held vp his gowty golles and blest himselfe, that a Londoner (who had wont to be the most valiant rob-pots) should now be strooke downe only with two hoopes: and therevpon iogd him, fombling out these comfortable words of a souldier, If thou be a man stand a thy legges: he stird not for all this: wherevpon the Maydes being raisde (as it had bene with a hue and cry) came hobling into the roome, like a flocke of Géese, and hauing vpon search of the bodie giuen vp this verdict, that the man was dead, and murthered by the Plague; Oh daggers to all their hearts that heard it! Away ••••udge the wenches, and one of them hauing had a freckled face all her life time, was perswaded presently that now they were

the tokens, and had liked to haue turned vp her héeles vpon it: My gorbelly Host, that in many a yeare could not without grun∣ting, crawle ouer a threshold but two foote broad, leapt halfe a yarde from the coarse (It was measured by a Carpenters rule) as nimbly as if his guts had béene taken out by the hangman: out of the house he wallowed presently, being followed with two or thrée dozen of napkins to drie vp the larde, that ranne so fast downe his héeles, that all the way he went, was more greazie than a kitchin-stuffe-wifes basket: you would haue sworne, it had béene a barrell of Pitch on fire, if you had loo∣ked vpon him, for such a smoakie clowde (by reason of his owne fattie hotte stéeme) compassed him rounde, that but for his voyce, hée had quite béene lost in that stincking myst: han∣ged himselfe hée had without all question (in this pittifull ta∣king) but that hée feared the weight of his in tollerable paunch, would haue burst the Roape, and so hée should bee put to a double death. At length the Towne was raised, the Coun∣trey came downe vpon him, and yet not vpon him neither, for after they vnderstood the Tragedie, euery man gaue ground, knowing my pursie Ale-cunner could not follow them: what is to bée done in this straunge Allarum? The whole Uillage is in daunger to lye at the mercy of God, and shall bée bound to curse none, but him for it: they should doe well therefore, to set fire on his house, before the Plague scape out of it, least it forrage higher into the Countrey, and knocke them downe, man, woman, and childe, like Oxen, whose blood (they all sweare) shall bée required at his handes. At these sp••eches my tender-hearted Hoste, fell downe on his maribones, meaning indéede to entreat his audience to bée good to him; but they fea∣ring hée had béene pepperd too, as well as the Londoner, tum∣bled one vpon another, and were ready to breake their neckes for haste to be gone: yet some of them (being more valiant then the rest, because they heard him roare out for some helpe) very desp: rately stept backe, and with rakes and pitch-forkes lifted the gulch from the ground: Cōcluding (after they had laid their hogs∣heads togither, to draw out som holesom counsel) that whosoeuer would ve••ter vpon the dead man & bury him, should haue fortie

shillings (out of the common towne-purse, though it would bée a great cut to it) with the loue of the Churchwardens and Side∣men, during the terme of life. This was proclaimed, but none durst appeare to vndertake the dread••ull execution: they loued money well, mary the plague hanging ouer any mans head that should meddle with it in that sort, they all vowde to dye beggers before it should be Chronicled they kild themselues for forty shil∣lings: and in that braue resolution, euery one with bagge & bag∣gage marcht home, barricadoing their doores & windowes with f••rbushes, ter••e, and bundels of straw to kéepe out the pestilence at the staues ende.

At last a Tinker came sounding through the Towne, mine Hosts house being the auncient w••••ring place where he did vse to cast Anchor. You must vnderstand hé was none of those base rascally Tinkers, that with a ban-dog and a drab at their tayles, and a pike-staffe on their necks, will take a purse sooner then stop a kettle: No, this was a deuout Tinker, he did honor ••od Pan: a Musicall Tinker, that vpon his kettle-drum could play any Countrey dance you cald for, and vpon Holly-dayes had earned money by it, when no Fidler could be heard of. Hee was onely feared when he stalkt through some townes where Bées were, for he strucke so swéetely on the bottome of his Copper instru∣ment, that he would ••mpie whole Hi••es, and leade the swarmes after him only by the sound.

This excellent egregious Tinker calls for his draught (be∣ing a double Iugge) it was fild for him, but before it came to his nose, the lamentable tale of the Londoner was tolde, the Chamber-doore (where hée lay) being thrust open with a long pole, because none durst touch it with their hands) and the Tinker bidden (if he had the heart) to goe in and sée if hée knew him. The Tinker being not to learne what vertue the medi∣cine had which hée held at his lippes, powred it downe his throate merily, and crying trillill, he fea••es no plagues. In hée stept, tossing the dead body too and fro, and was sorie hée knew him not: Mine Hoste that with griefe began to fall away vil∣lanously, looking very ruthfully on the Tinker, and thinking him a fit instrument to be playd vpon, offred a crowne out of his

owne purse, if he would bury the partie. A crowne was a shrew•• temptation to a Tinker; many a hole might he stop, before hée could picke a crowne of it, yet being a subtill Tinker (& to make all Sextons pray for him, because hée would raise their fées) an Angell he wanted to be his guide, and vnder ten shillings (by his ten bones) he would not put his finger into the fire. The whole parish had warning of this presently, thirtie shillings was saued by the bargaine, and the Towne like to be saued too, therefore ten shillings was leuyed out of hand, put into a rag, which was tyed to the ende of a long pole and deliuered (in ••ight of all the Parish, who stood aloo••e stopping their noses) by the Head∣boroughs owne selfe in proper person, to the Tinker, who with one hand receiued the money, and with the other struck the boord, crying hey, a fresh double pot. Which armor of proofe being fit∣ted to his body, vp he hoists the Londoner on his backe (like a Shoole-boy) a Shouell and Pick-axe standing ready for him: And thus furnished, into a field some good distance from the Towne he beares his deadly loade, and there throwes it downe, falling roundly to his tooles, vpon which the strong béere hauing set an egde, they quickely cut out a lodging in the earth for the Citizen. But the Tinker knowing that wormes néeded no ap∣parell, sauing onely shéetes, stript him starke naked, but first diu'de nimbly into his pocket, to see what liuings they had, assu∣ring himselfe, that a Londoner would not wander so farre with∣out siluer: his hopes were of the right stampe, for from out of his pockets he drew a leatherne bagge with seuen pounds in it: this musicke made the Tinkers heart dance, he quickely tumbled his man into the graue, hid him ouer head and eares in dust, bound vp his cloathes in a bundle, & carying that at the end of his staffe on his shoulder, with the purse of seuen pounds in his hand, backe againe comes he through the towne, crying aloud, Haue yée any more Londoners to bury, hey downe a downe dery, haue ye any more Londoners to bury: the Hobbinolls running away from him, as if he had béene the dead Citizens ghost, & he mar∣ching away from them in all the hast he could, with that song still in his mouth.

You see therefore how dreadfull a fellow Death is, making

fooles euen of wisemen, and cowards of the most valiant; yea, in such a base flauerie hath it bound mens sences, that they haue no power to looke higher than their owne roofes, but séeme by their turkish and barberous actions to belieue that there is no feliciti•• after this life, and that (like beasts) their soules shall perish with their bodyes. How many vpon sight onely of a Letter (sent from London) haue started backe, and durst haue layd their saluation vpon it, that the plague might be folded in that empty paper, be∣lieuing verily, that the arme of Omnipotence could neuer reach them, vnlesse it were with some weapon drawne out of the infec∣ted Citie: in so much that euen the Westerne Pugs receiuing money there, haue tyed it in a bag at the end of their barge, and so trailed it through the Tha••••es, least plague-sores sticking vpon shillings, they should be naild vp for counterfeits when they were brought home.

More ventrous than these block-heads was a certaine Iustice of peace, to whose gate being shut (for you must know that now there is no open house kept) a company of wilde fellowes being lead for robbing an Orchyard, the stout••hearted Constable rapt most couragiously, and would haue about with none, but the Iustice himselfe, who at last appeard in his likenesse aboue at a window, inquiring why they summond a parlée. It was deliue∣red why: the case was opened to his examining wisedome, and that the euill doers were onely Londoners: at the name of Lon∣doners, the Iustice clapping his hand on his brest (as who should say, Lord haue mercie vpon vs) started backe, and being wise enough to saue one, held his nose hard betwéene his fore-finger and his thumbe, and speaking in that wise (like the fellow that de∣scribed the villainous motion of Iulius Caesar and the Duke of Guize, who (as he gaue it out) fought a combat together) pul∣ling the casement close to him, cryed out in that quaile-pipe voice, that if they were Londoners, away with them to Limbo: take onely their names: they were sore fellowes, and he would deale with them when time should serue: meaning, when the plague and they should not be so great together, and so they departed: the very name of Londoners being worse then ten whetstones to sharpen the sword of Iustice against them.

I could fill a large volume, and call it the second part of the hundred mery tales, onely with such ridiculous stuffe as this of the Iustice, but Dij meliora, I haue better matters to set my wits about: neither shall you wring out of my pen (though you lay it on the rack) the villanies of that damnd Kéeper, who kild all she kéept; it had bene good to haue made her kéeper of the common Iayle, and the holes of both Counters, for a number lye there, that wish to be rid out of this motley world, shée would haue tickled them, and turned them ouer the thumbs. I will likewise let the Church-warden in Thames stréete sléepe (for hées now pasi waking) who being requested by one of his neighbors to suffer his wife or child (that was then dead) to lye in the Church∣yard, answered in a mocking sort, he kéept that lodging for him∣selfe and his houshold: and within thrée dayes after was driuen to hide his head in a hole himselfe. Neither will I speake a word of a poore boy (seruant to a Chandler) ••welling thereabouts, who being struck to the heart by sicknes, was first caryed away by water, to be left any where, but landing being denyed by an army of browne bill••men that kept the shore, back againe was he brought, and left in an out-celler, where lying groueling and groning on his face (amongst fagots, but not one of them set on fire to comfort him) there continued all night, and dyed mise∣rably for want of succor. Nor of another poore wretch in the Parish of Saint Mary Oueryes, who being in the morning throwne, as the fashion is, into a graue vpon a heape of carca∣ses, that kayd for their complement, was found in the afternoone, gasping and gaping for life: but by these tricks, imagining that many a thousand haue bene turned wrongfully off the ladder of life, and praying that Derick or his executors may liue to do those a good turne, that haue done so to others: Hic finis Priami, héeres an end of an old Song.

Et iam tempus Equûm fumantia soluere colla.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Vertumnus God of the yeare.
• * 1.2

  Description of the Spring.
• * 1.3

  Vpon the 23. of March the Spring begins, by reason of the Sunnes en∣trance into A∣ries.
• * 1.4

  The Queenes ••icknes.
• * 1.5

  Her death.
• * 1.6

  The genera•••• terror that her death bred.
• * 1.7

  1603. A more wonderfull yeare than 88.
• * 1.8

  King Iames proclaimed.
• * 1.9

  The ioyes that followed vpon his proclay∣ming.
• * 1.10

  The Pl••gu••
• * 1.11

  Anthropopha∣gi are Scithia••s, that feed on mens flesh.