The honour of merchant-taylors wherein is set forth the noble acts, valliant deeds, and heroick performances of merchant-taylors in former ages, their honourable loves, and knightly adventures ... together with their pious acts and large benevolences, their building of publick structures, especially that of Blackwell-Hall, to be a market place for the selling of woollen cloaths ... / written by VVilliam VVinstanley.

THE HONOUR OF Merchant Taylors.

CHAP. I.

The birth of Sir John Hawkwood, how he was bound Prentice at London to a Merchant Taylor, how he fell in Love with his Masters daugh∣ter, with other things that ensued thereon.

IN the days of that Famous and magnanimous Prince King Edward the Third, there was born at Sible Henningham in the County of Essex, a Right worthy Knight, known afterwards to the world by the Name of Sir John Hawkwood, who though born of mean and despicable Pa∣rents, yet by his skill in Arms and fortunate suc∣cess attained to such high Renown and Dignity, that his name be∣came most em••••ently famous throughout the compass of the whole world.

In his very infancy he was of a quick and pregnant capacity, and showed many signs of a magnanimous inclination, so that this early▪ spring of gassant resolutions promised a golden Harvest of heroick performances, and that in time he should become the admired Champion of his age.

Having attained to some perfaction of years, he was bound Pren∣tice at London to one of the worthy So••lety of M••rchant Taylors: wher•• though be endured a hard Prentice-ship, yet pains in youth ••nured him to undergo hard-ship afterwards, when being a Souldier he was forced to extremities, whereas those that never felt the mi∣series of want, being brought into necessity, wanted no kind of mise∣ry as being not inured to suffer Calamity: whilest he who had been habituate•• to hardship under went all within invincible and ••illing patience. So that ••••inual 〈◊〉〈◊〉, in time ••id make his labour•• ease, and pains pleasure. Thus did his Apprentice-ship glide away undis∣cerned, and Time which devours all things had now consumed a∣bove sir years of the seve•• he had to serve his Master, but 〈◊〉〈◊〉 when his time of 〈…〉〈…〉 nigh 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and that he ••••••an as it were to have an entrance into fréedom, he off a sudden became a thral to Cupid, being Captivated by the inchanting beauty of Ara∣••••lla his Masters Eldest daughter, but she had before so strongly pla∣ced her affection on Ralph her Fathers journey man, that there was no corner of her heart lest to entertain the least, love of young Hawk∣woods; yet notwithstanding he knew which way he affections were bent, and that she had wholly resigned up her self to the disposal of Ralph, yet did he not doubt but that his love and unfeigned service would in process of time so alienate her thoughts, that at length he might become Master of her affections; for well he knew that Ralph was of a froward peevish disposition, irreconcileable in anger, and apt upon the least distaste to forget all former though never so bind∣ing courtesses; and therefore he hoped that Ralphs undeservings, would at length so far unblinde her eyes as not to settle her affecti∣ons where she saw no merit; and in the interim to draw her good opinion towards him, he became very serviceable to her in what bu∣siness so ever that happened in the house wherein she had any thing to do; which she kindly accepted, interpreting it to his good Nature, and not in the least imputing it to Love, her thoughts being so wholly

taken up in contemplation of the seeming 〈…〉〈…〉 Ralph that now she began to see with no other eyes but what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 her, and to think no other thoughts but what he inspired.

In the mean time imperious Love did so forment the heart of young Hawkwood that his life became irksome unto him, sléep was now become a stranger, and care and discontent his daily companions: His cheeks which before were as ruddy as the blushesof Aurora, were now converted to a thin paleness, his speeches were broken and im∣perfect, evermore concluding with a sigh for his period. Now com∣pany is loathsom to him, and his cheif delight is in solitary places; he exclaims on Love as tyrannical, and blames the destinies for not being propitious to him. Many days did he waste thus in fruitless ex∣clamations, at last he resolves upon the first opportunity to disclose his Love to the fair Arabella, (for Love by concealment encreases, and private imaginations adds fewel to that fire) now long it was not e••re the blind Goddess put a Golden opportunity into his hands, for his dearest Love being so go some miles out of Town, young Hawkwood was by his Master commanded to attend on her, and being on their journey, having a fit time and place, to unsold his mind to her, he re∣solved to take time by the foretop, and not to let slip so fair an oppor∣tunity, whereupon with a bashful modestness he brake his mind to her in these words.

My dearest Love (pardon my boldness that I so entitle thee) having for a long time took special notice of your supereminent endowments both of body and minde, I could not chuse but first to like, and then to love thee; and upon a serious deliberation to approve of that Love. Startle not my dear at this sudden motion for what I now propound, is that which my heart doth dictute unto me, and not aiery verbal ex∣pressions; Let not then my unfeign••ed affection receive a rep••lle, bu•• rather a friendly entertainment, which I the better hope, since it would be altogether contrary to Nature, that any the least sparkle of cruelty should have habitation in so fair a sweet composed body.

Much ado had Arabella to hold from interrupting him until he had done; many times was she about to speak, to check that love which she deemed in hi•• great presumption, and with an angry reply to quenth that fire which she imagined was but as yet tending to a slame; but con••tary thoughts o••efn in exposed, affirming that it was

méex injustice to repay Love with disdain, and to return harsh words for affectionate spéeches, that the Gods though angry would be ap∣peased with sacrifices, and there were few men so implacable in ha∣tred, but that loving words would mollifie their wrath, then that affectionate spéeches procéeding from Love should procure anger, were quite contrary to reason, she therefore upon second thoughts re∣solved to alter her first resolution, yet so to daunt him in his Love suit, as to make him desist from prosecuting it any further, she there∣fore bid him leave off dreaming of such fond Chymera's, at least not to make her the aim of his thoughts, séeing his judgment might have ••nform'd him otherwise, that she should never be brought to stoop to so low a lure as he, having béen sought to by others so far beyond him; and therefore Iohn (said she) let me advise you to follow your work, and leave off these idle fancies least if you persist I so inform your Master of you, as shall return to your small advantage.

How welcome this Answer was to young Hawkwood let them i∣magine who have been in the same condition, yet was he resolved (for all her words) not so to give over, accounting him but a co∣wardly Souldier that would 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for one shot of the Cannon, and there∣fore was minded to accost her the second bout, but drawing now near to their journeys end he reserved it for another time; not giving her any reply at all, and therefore Arabella well hoped that she had so sufficiently quashed her new Lover as not to hear of him in the like Nature again; but having dispatched their business and returning a∣gain homewards, quite contrary to her expectation, young Hawkwood began to renew his sult again in these words.

Most dear Arabella, let not the prosecution of my former words be offensive to you, nor blame me for renewing my suit, though contrary to your command, since though by the one I incurr your displeasure, yet without obtaining the other I can no longer subsist; O did you but feel those flames that burn in my breast, you would not seek to add to my affliction. But Arabella impatient of any further discourse tending to Love, presently replyed, and can you be so bold to insist still on that which I so hate to hear, hath my former words wrought no greater impression in you, or can your impudence imagine that what I then spake was but in jest? What audacious boldness hath thus possest you, or with what extream folly are you so misled, as to think

I shauld cast away my self by condescention to so mean a person; because some forsooth have been so fond as to run away with their fathers servants, thereby purchasing repentance with their own undo∣ing, do you imagine to find the like by me, no Sir rest assured, I am of another temper▪ and therefore desist from urging your suit further, and save your breath for better purposes.

This Answer was such a ••ooling Card to young Hawkwood that he durst not make her a reply, but hung down his head like a dull-rush, revolving a thousand things in his mind▪ so they silently passed on their journey, till (with the day) they brought it to an end, but our young Lover was so cast down, that no sooner was he come home but ••e went to bed, pretending weariness in travel, where we will leave him for the present, fretting and discontented at his adverse fortune.

CHAP. II.

Young Hawkwood being discontented goeth to be a Souldier, how William served Ralph the Journey-man, with other mat∣ters that ensued.

THere was Prentice in the same house with young Hawkwood a lad named William, about sixteen years of age, an ingenions youth who very much loved John Hawkwood, but could not so well affect the strange conditions and humours of Ralph the Journey-man. This William having of late marked the great alterations that were in Hawkwood, would needs be so inquisitive as to know of him the reasons thereof: promising (if it lay in his power) to refuse no danger to do him good; so that with much importunity Hawkwood revealed all unto him, conjuring him of secrecy, yet withal telling him

that he was resolved since that his time was now expired, and that he proved so unfortunate in his Love, to forsake the Ensign of Cupid, and to p••t himself under the Banner of Mars. At that time King Edward the third laid claim to the Kingdome of France in Right of his Mother, and in pursuance of his title raised a mighty Army, and conducted them into France. With there went O•••• discontented Lo∣ver, whose low fortunes could not then ra••••e him to a higher place then a private Souldier; who safely landed with the rest of the Army, where for a while we will leave him to relate how William served Ralph the Journey-man.

Who soon after the departure of Hawkwood fell also deeply in love with the fair Arabella, and understanding how strongly her affections were placed on Ralph, he thought it the best policy to remove that ob∣stacle out of the way before he discovered his love unto her, to this end he framed a Letter in Ralphs name to this effect.

Dear Friend,

I Received your Letter, and thank you for your good advice, but do not think I am so deep in Love but that I can go out of it when I please; no, Cupids manacles are of no greater strength to bind my heart, then a twine thread is to hold a Gyant, for Love which to others seems to be a great torment, is to me only a pastime, in be∣holding the vanity of our female Saints, w••••m two or three kind words can bring into a fools paradise: This could I instance in my fond Arabela, who thinks she hath my heart chaired to her devotions, when alas poor filly wench, upon sight of the next fair object it is ready to take flight, therefore rest confident that Love shall never cause my ruine, for I will never hang it on so close, but that I will easi∣ly shake it off, and so adieu,

Your faithfull friend Ralph.

This Letter had William so cunningly counterfeited, that a knowing eye could not discern it from Ralphs own hand; his next po∣licy was that Arabella only should have the sight of it, which was easi∣ly done, by dropping it unsealed whereby she was to pass, who stoop∣ing and taking it up, thinking by the Character it had been her Lovers

hand, for the more secrecy in reading it she went into her own cham∣ber, and perceiving his name at the bottom thereof, she then rested confident it was his own writing: but having read it over, the paper which before (as coming from him) she kissed with her lips, she could now scarcely forbear from tearing with he•• hands, who had then seen her would have taken her for one of Diana's Nymphs metamorphosed into a fu••y, such a sudden change did th••se lines work in her heart, that what s••e before so much loved, now she as much loathed, what before was so highly honored, is now as moch abhorred, and that which was so greatly respected is now as much disliked. O Heavens (said she) why did you create so false a thing as man: and is it possible such dis∣simulation could harbo•• in that breast? who ever hereafter will trust to vo••s or protestati••ns: O Sun why do not you extinquish your light since he so deeply swore, that you should sooner fall to run your course, then he would cease to be faithful unto me. Frown Heavens at these perjuries, and O you Gods panish these impleties, let dissi∣mulation have his ••ust reward, and violation of faith suffer chastise∣ment. In this manner did she exclaim on Ralph, whilst he remained both innocent and ignorant, and William who had wrought this mis∣ch••ef; was the least of all suspected. Now doth she alter her carriage to another tune, shunning as much as she could the very sight of him, such impressions of hatred had the Letter wrought in her. But her Revenge resteth not here, next she solicites her Father to turn him a∣way, and that with such importunity, that she will have no denyal, so that hereupon Ralph hath warning to be gone suddenly, at which he much marvalled yet not in the least suspected the reason, and now in∣sending to impart his mind to his dearest Love, he ••inds her so far estranged as not to be spoken withall; Not an opportunity did he let slip where he imagined to méet her, but all his vigilancy could nothing avail, and the time drawing near wherein he was to depart, he therefore took Pen and Paper in hand, and writ to her as followeth.

Most dear heart,

WHat should cause his strangeness in you thus on a suddain, is to me altogether unknown, having to my knowledge given no just occasion; is love so light thus to be quite blown away and no reason to be given therefore; or can you so soon forget those solemn engage∣ments past between us? were there a ••ailing on my part, I should soon expiate the offence though with my dearest blood; be then so merciful a judge as not to condemn me before my cause be known, and if you find me guilty, then let me suffer your severest censure; in the mean time I shall desire to have the happiness as to plead my own cause be∣fore your self, where I make no doubt but to be acquitted, and to prove my self,

Your faithful servant Ralph.

This Letter he conveyed to her hands by the Maid of the house, whom she chid for bringing it, yet nevertheless the opened and read it; but Williams counterfeit Letter had so far possessed her with an evil opinion of him, that what he had written gained no credence with her, but rather exasperated her more then before, she judging it to be all but meer dissimulation, and therefore to check his arrogancy (as she imagined it) she took Pen in hand and returned him this follow∣ing Answer.

With what confidence or impudence rather, you could thus write unto me, I much marvail: is this your course, to intrap Maids hearts by Dissimulation, and then to insult over them for their pains I can you carry so fair a gloss upon so foul a Text, or think ye I am so ig∣norant of your ways as you would have me to be; is your large pro∣testations come to conclude in perjuries; and was the end of your oaths only to deceive; false man, hadst thou none to abuse but me, and must you needs boast of your victory before you had fully obtain∣ed it? blame me not then if I turn haggard, and resufe to come again to your lure: in the mean time, go court some other Lasses, whose credu••ity you may abuse by Dissimulation as you have done mine, and

let not impudence prevail so far further with you as to trouble me again with another Letter, for know I hate the very memory of thee, much less shall I abide either to see or hear from thee,

Your deserved enemy Arabella.

By the same hand which brought her the Letter, did she return him the answer, which h••w welcome it was to Ralph, let them imagine who having béen in Love, have met with the like misunderstandings in their affections, guessing at many things which might cause this sudden alteration, but still being ignorant of the true cause, and now as one utterly desperate of real mission into her labour, he resolves to a∣bandon utterly all thoughts of Love, and betake himself to the camp of Mars; in prosecution of which purpose, some further aids being send∣ing over into France, to valiant King Edward (whose martial actions began now to be spoken off the whole world over) he lifts himself a Souldier amongst them, but before his departure he sent this Coppy of Verses to his incensed Arabella.

Farewel thou unkind dearest, whom my eyes Did once; more then the worlds cheif treasure prize, Whose beauty, and whose constancy were deemed More then all other women were esteemed, How comes it that thou so unkind shouldst prove To him whom once thou promidst for to love, Who thought such falshood ere in thee to find, Or is all faith now fled from women kind; Then fare thou well, all happiness attend thee; And may the Gods a truer Lover send thee.

Having sent her these Verses, and the wind standing fair, he took Ship, and being aided both 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Neptune and Eolus, they in short time arrived in France. It has then about the time of the Year when the Lady Flora had man••led the earth in a rich suit of Tap••••••y, and the winged Chor••sters of the Wood did chant 〈…〉〈…〉 Harmony. Now the sons of Mars, lay 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and seve∣ral 〈◊〉〈◊〉 had passed betwixt both Armies; wherein the French

most commonly had the worst; wherefore considering with themselves the danger they were in, how their armies every day decreased, their Towns continually taken by the English, and King Edwards side growing stronger and stronger; they therefore assembled a mighty Army to oppose him, and therewith confronted him near to a place called Cressy: having in their Company a Champion of an extraor∣dinary strength, and very much renowned for sev••••al atchievements he had done; This Champion (whom the French called Lilio) at such time as the Armies began to approach near to one another, he sent a bold challenge to the English host, daring the best of them all to encounter with him, which challenge being full of pride and arro∣gancy, was written as followeth.

Imperious English-men, whose ambition hath made you to cross the Seas into this our renowned Kingdome of France, and to wage War with him who for his valour and piety hath the attribute of the most Christian King bestowed upon him; think you because you have given us some petty defeats, and destroyed and burnt some few in∣considerable Villages, that you shall be able to conquer the Crown of France, or to bring under the French-men whose valour the World hath always had in admiration; no, know that I am the man who will stand in the gap to stop your proceedings, and thereupon do Challenge the boldest Champion in your host to encounter with me in single Combate, which if he shall be so fool-hardy as to undertake, you shall soon perceive the difference betwixt the manhood of the renowned French, and the pusilianity of Dastards, such as I count the English to be.

A foe to Cowards, the renowned Lilio.

This proud Challenge being sent into the English camp, filled those Sons of Mars with scorn and disdain of this Beagadocio; yet they were resolved to answer his folly, and to make him know the great diffe∣rence betwixt words and déeds, and the noble resolution of an English∣man; before the vain boasting of the French: But none was more eager to take up this bold Challenger then was the renowned Hawk∣wood, whose notable valour had now advanced him to the degrée of a

Captain, and therefore he humbly desired the King to permit him to undertake the same, to which the King having has proof of his abili∣ties, gratiously condescended, whereupon the noble Hawkwood return∣ed him an answer in these following lines.

Proud French-man who thinkest with high words to work won∣ders, and art so bold to vilifie that Nation 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have always been your betters at the exercise of arms; But finde thy inconsiderate rash∣ness will needs prompt thee to thy destruction, know that thy chal∣lenge shall be answered, when if thou canst perform what thy paper hath promist, thou wilt have more cause to brag, but ••f thou beest o∣vercome by my arm (as I make no doubt but thou wilt) thou maist then repent of thy folly, and be an example to others to brag less, without they could perform more

John Hawkwood.

The next day as it was agréed betwixt them, both the Champions met, in a void place betwéen both the armies, when first on horse-back, and

[illustration]

then on foot, they fought with much conrage and manhood, but gal∣lant Hawkwood in little space did make the French-man sensible of his error, and by his excellent valour set the palm of victory on his own head, for he soon brought the French-man low notwithstanding his high brags, so that to save his life, upon his knées he presented his sword to the conquering Hawkwood and submitted himself to be his Prisoner. This sub mission was by the generous Hawkwood accept∣ed, who returned with him in tryumph to the English camp, where he was received with great acclamations of j••y; The King for his va∣lor conserred on him the order of Knight-hood, and the prime com∣manders show 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him much respect, feasti•••• him, and highly extolling his manhood. The French-men on the other side when they saw their Champion ••verthrown were much dis••eartned, and dreading the worst, in the night for••ook their Camp, and s••ed away for▪ fear of the English.

About the time that this combat was fought, Ralph the Journer∣man with some other English aids was newly arrived at King Ed∣wards Canty, who seeing the valour of his fellow-servant, and how the whole host rang of his praises, was exceeding joyful thereof, (being utterly ignorant that Sir John was his rival in Love,) and minding to reveal himself unto him, he at last found a fit opportunity, being sree from Company and separated from business, whom he accosted in these words.

Sir I very much applaud your valour, and thank the destinies that so guided your hand, as to overthrow the French-mans pride, indeed I much longed to see you, but to see you a Conqueror, and that in such a high nature, it doth indeed almost ravish me with joy: So it is that being crost in my affections with the fair but false Arabella, whole beauty is but a varnish to her deceitful heart, and her tyrannical sq••eamishness enough to make me hate all women kind, being as I say thus crost by Cupid, I thought to find Mars more favourable, and France being now the stage of action, I resolved to put my felf an actor thereon, where it hath been my good hap even upon my very first joyning to those Sons of Bellona, to see and hear your honoured atchievements. Daigne therefore renowned Hawkwood to enter∣tain your once fellow servant Ralph, and though not in the degree of a friend, yet into the condition of a servant, whom you shall find obse∣quious

to you, and not unworthy the trust you shall repose in me.

Sir John Hawkwood, who at the first beheld Ralph with some re∣gret, as knowing him the main obstacle he had in the fair Arabella's love, finding by his discourse she had likewise cast him off, and consi∣dering with himself, the deceitfulness of that sex, how their love is like to breath on st••••, soon on and soon off, although at first he intended to take no notice of him, but for his loves sake to have rejected h••s ac∣quaintance, yet hearing now how the case went, he quite alter'd his mind, welcoming him with the highest expressions of Love possible, and after some further short communication, had him to his Tent; where he gave him friendly entertainment, and not long after made him a Serjant under his Command, where for a while we will leave them, to rela••e in the mean time what passed betwixt William and the fair Arabella.

CHAP. III.

How William courted the fair Arabella, how his counterfeit Letter came to be discovered, and how she likewise cast him off.

VVHilst these things passed in France; William who judg'd now all fair weather, and that all lets were removed which might be any hinderance to the prosecution of his designs, being as deeply scorched with the flames of Cupid, as the other two had béen who were now in France, be resolves without delay to let fair Arabella know the same, which was the easier to be done, he being now upon the absence of the other two, the foreman of the shop, and by his valls which he had gotten having accoutred himself something more then an ordinary Prent••ce, having also an accurate wit, and volubile tongue, all incentives to Love, and which indeed drew the heart of Arabella up∣on the absence of Ralph, to have a very good opinion of him, that opi∣nion causing liking; and liking quickly producing affection, so that she was not any ways nice to keep him company, nor did she show such a∣verssness in carriage but what did promise him great hopes of obtain∣ing

her Love, wherefore emboldned thereby, one day as they were a∣l••ne be brake his mind to her in these words.

My dearest Arabella, if what I shall now utter should be offensive

[illustration]

unto thee yet let me beg thy pardon, since conquering Love inforces me to it; who can view thy beauty and not admire thee? or who contemplate thy vertues and not honour thee; or hear thy discourse, and not be enamoured of thee? how then should I be able to resist such potent charms? What strength can I have against such strong a∣lurements to love•• hee! Daign then dear Mistriss of my heart, to entertain this un••eigned Love of mine, and let not cruelty reign in that body, wh••re beauty and vertue do sit inthroned. O torture me not with a flat denyal, neither tantalize me with vain delusions, but grant me the sree enjoyment of thy heart, which in equity thou oughtest to do, although it be only in exchange of mine which thou art possessed of.

Arabella wi••h much patience heard him all this while but least she should seem t••o forward, she would at least appear so froward as to tell him that for her part she had utte••ly abandoned all thoughts of Love ••ut of her breast, and having now broken Cupids bonds, she desired not to come under his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 aga••n•• She therefore wished him to desist f••om his amoro••s humor, or if he were minded to persist, to place his affection ••ns••me more deserving pe••son then her self.

William who though but a Novice in Love, yet perceived by her an∣swer that it was so far from tending to a flat denyal, as it gave him more hopes to prosecute his suit; for he was not so ignorant in the art of Love, but that he knew, a womans tongue and heart were not re∣latives, and that they would seem to push away that with their little finger, which they would willingly pull back again with both their hands he therefore prosecuted again his suit in these words.

Let not my dearest Arabella say so, and condemn love for one mans miscarriage what should the Marriner refuse ever to venture again, for being once ship-wrack'd! or should the wrastler forswear that exercise because he once received a fall; think not dear Love all men are wavering, nor let not one mans unfaithfulness condemn the whole sex•• tis true, we read that Demophoon was false, but Theagines was constant, Aeneus was disloyal, but Pyramus true to death: Set there∣fore the ones faith against the others faults, and let the vertues of the one ballance the vices of the other; though Ralph was unconstant, William will prove faithful, though all men should prove false, yet would I continue true.

Arabella though she judged her self deceived before in Ralph, yet was by these words brought into such a confidence of Williams integrity, that she had almost yielded up the Fort, and revealed the affection she bare unto him; but upon better consideration, she resolved to make a further tryal of his loyalty, and by a moderate delay have a sure proof of his constancy, she therefore returned him a dubious answer, which as it gave him no great denyall, so did it not any ways assure him of her af∣fection. For William (said she) you men are so apt to change, and so given to unconstancy, notwithstanding all your protestations, that we Maids are many times beguil'd by your willy snares, and whereas men accuse our Sex of fickleness, the fault is in them, for we only change our loves as men change their conditions; and are constant to them so long as they are true to themselves, yet am not I so out of Love with Cupid, but that I could willingly come under his subjection, could I meet with a lover as true in deeds as kind in words, and ••here∣fore till I have had a further proof of your constancy, give me leave to wave any further conclusion,

With this Answer was William very well satisfied, hugging him∣self in his supposed happiness, that others should beat the bush, and he

catch she bird, not doubting in the least the obtaining of Arabella's l••ve and now his heart being merry, and taking care sor nothing, as he was one day at work, he began to sing a song in praise of his Trade as followeth.

Of all the Trades that ere hath bin, The Taylors doth most credit win, For let them all say what they can The Taylor is the only man.

Adam was the first o'th Trade When he his cloaths of Fig-leaves made; His skil in Trade then first appearing To make cloaths for his and Eves wearing.

Your Gallant that so brave doth show, It is the Taylor makes him so, For when his cloaths are off, he then Doth show like unto other men.

The Taylor hath the only sleight, To make a crooked body streight, With bumbast he their faults can cover, One shoulder shows as high as tother.

A Taylor is without all danger Admitted to a Ladies Chamber, Where though she be never so chast He will take measure of her wast.

How should we but for Taylors do When Northern winds so cold do blow, Had we no cloaths to keep us warm Those bitter blasts would do us harm.

Without them all things put together We never should indure the weather;

Then let them all say what they can, The Taylor is the only man.

In this manner did William pass away the time in much jolli••y, ha∣ving often secret conferrance with his dearest Arabella, so that now at last they began to draw towards some conclusion of agreement, and to think upon a prefixed time for the marriage day; when on a sudden all was broken off again, and this serenity of Air turned to cloudy and blustring weather, and that upon occasion as followeth.

There was living in the same house a Maid-servant named Doro∣thy, who had a long time been in love with William, but thorow a Maidenly bashfulness had concealed the same. It chanced one time that she being in the next room where William and Arabella had a confer∣rence, she over heard their private discourse, and notwithstanding she might perceive by their talk that the business was near unto a conclu∣sion, yet out of a womanish revenge, she resolved if she could not have him her self, to hinder any other from the enjoyment of him. She goes therefore first and acquaints her Master and Mistriss with each particular circumstance, aggravating the matter, and wresting each word had béen spoken to the worst sence, but this not prevalling, both Master and Mistriss having a good opinion of William, and thinking their daughter might be worse bestowed. She went another way to work, for having by some means got an ink••ing how Ralph wa•• served by the counte••feit Letter, she well hoped that would do the feat, and therefore the next opportuntty that she sound Arabella alone, she set her wits on the tenter-hooks to aggravate the offence, which she did after this manner.

I cannot but wonder Mrs. Arabella, nay pitty your hard fortune, that you should be thus deluded in the placing of your affection, well did the Poets feign that Love is blind, not descerning desert from dis∣simulation, or truth from treachery, is it possib••e that you could reject a Dove-like innoce••cy, and receive a Snake into your bosome: That you cou••d cast off Ralphs unfeigned affection to embrace Wi••liams dis∣sembling carriage! O Gods how blind are we in our choice, how apt to believe falsities for veritnes how dull not to disceri truth from dis∣simulation; now to rectifie your errour, I c••uld inform you of your mistake but why should I counsel them that are obstinate, or speak

to them that I know will not hear, and yet how can I that love your welfare refrain to speak? or why should I be silent in a matter of so great moment, and yet sure better to do so then otherwise, since Councel rejected is but cast away, and to speak to the deaf, is but lost labour.

These words she used, well hoping they would make Arabella the more inquisitive to know, and indeed she mist not of her mark, sor the more the one séemed loath to tell, the more eager was the other to be informed, so that at last as it were inforced, (yet pretending it only a real affection unto her,) she declared how Ralph was utterly ignorant of that Letter which came to her hands, how it was of Williams contriving, only on purpose to beat her off of his love, highly ertolling Ralphs deservings, and as much extenuating Williams due desert; This news much astonisht the fair Arabella. And is it pos∣sible said she, that treachery can lye hid under such a vail of modesty; can so fair a tongue have so foul a heart, or such sugred words serve only to candy over worser actions? O ye Gods why did ye create so false a thing as man, or not indue him with more reality, unhappy Arabella what unlucky Star govern'd at thy Nativity, or what omi∣nous signs foreboded thy misfortunes; was I appointed to be for∣tunes May game, or destined for an example to others to beware of mens treachery; and yet why do I thus suddenly break forth into this exclamation, may not he be wrongfully accused, and I more too blame for being so over credulous, and therefore my dearest Dorothy I conjure thee to be silent in what thou hast told me•• till time the fa∣ther of truth shall make all things appear, in the mean space I shall not be idle to use my best endeavours in the prosecution thereof.

And now she began to look on William with a squint eye, her smiles were turned to frowns, discontent sat on her forehead, and all pri∣vate entercourse laid aside betwixt them. In the mean time Fames Golden Trumpet had loudly sounded forth the heroick actions of Sir John Hawkwood and Ralph the Journey-man, none in the English Camp more daring then they, having performed many gallant ad∣ventures, insomuch that fortune séemed chained to their swords. This artiving at the ears of Dorothy (as going often to the Market where news was stirring) she presently acquaints Arabella therewith, setting forth thi••r praises (especially Ralphs) in so high a language,

and quaint demonstrations, as if she her self had béen an eye witness, here would she describe a battle, the great strength of the enemy, the disadvantage of the place for the English, how fortune a long time favoured the French, and how at last the scales were turn'd, and victory pluck'd out of her hands as it were by méer force, and all by the valor of these two renowned Champions, then would she show the honor attendant on victory, with what respects they were enter∣tained wheresoever they came, how they carried the Goddess victory in tryumph along with them, the whole Camp sounding forth their praises. This news as it tickled the ears of Arabella with delight, so did it cause in her a sudden discontentment for the loss of such two ser∣vants who had both of them expressed such love unto her, so that she began again afresh to renew her complaints, and to exclaim on for∣tune, when suddenly she was called to the door, a Messenger waiting for her there with a Letter, which when she had received, and know∣ing by the Character it was Ralphs hand, a modest blush died her chéeks into a vermilion colour, but having broke open the Seal, she found it to contain these words.

To that Paragon of beauty the renowned Arabella.

VVIth what regret I have passed away the time since I have been absent from ye, as it is unknown unto you, so am I as utterly ignorant what should move you to such averseness; for was it possible such deep promises, and solemn engagements, could be so suddenly broken off, without showing a reason why; certainly that Love had but a weak foundation, which should cause the whole structure so on an instant to fall; well may your Sex be accused of Levity if without any occasion you can so suddenly change; more fickle then the Weather-cock, which yet turns but accord∣ing to the Wind, pray pardon the expression, since a sharp ••eproof is more wholesome then a flattering complement, and these times have more need of the Satyr then the Sonnet. If the remembrance of me be not quite banisht out of your memory, I should think it a happiness to hear from you; but if your affections have taken up another habitation, and all those mutual engagements betwixt us be utterly forgotten, yet this shall be my comfort that the

breach was not on my part, but that I can with confidence subscribe my self

Your faithful friend Ralph

.

Having read the Letter and thoroughly considered each circum∣stance thereof, she then began to be ••••lly confident that Dorothy had told her no••hing but truth, so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the fi••e of revenge lay burning in her breast against William, yet did she for a while wisely cover it under the a••hes of Dissimulation, until finding a fit opportunity, and that the heat of pa••sion was over, she then utter'd her mind to ••im in these words.

Treacherous man; thus to betray thy friend, and abuse me, with what confidence canst thou appear before me being conscious of thy own guilt; art thou not afraid the divine vengeance should pursue thee, as once the Harpies did P••neus the Arcadian King! Thou that canst counterf••it Love as well as le••ters, and mast commence Doctor in the art of Dissimulation; whose word▪ and deeds like Janus face look two several ways, having the Theory of honesty, but canst not abide the practick part, being like to the Apples of ••odem, which Historians say, are beautiful without, but dirt within, art not thou he whose pre∣tensions to honesty were so large, as if thou wouldst ingross the whole Commodity to thy self; now out of that abundance where withal you are indued, pray tell me what point of honesty is that, by counterfeit∣ing Letters to set the dearest friends at variance, to dissolve that band of friendship, which had been tyed together by so many solemn pro∣mises and engagements, away then false man, whose treachery hath made thee justly odious, and think with thy self if thy unworthy acti∣ons hath not made thee justly to deserve the hatred of all womenkind.

William would have replyed something in excuse of himself and ex∣tenuating his crime, but Arabella would not suffer him to speak; False man (said she) and canst thou be so impudent, as to deny so appa∣rent a truth, hast not thou more cause to blush and be ashamed at these thy perfidious actions, with what confidence canst thou look up∣on the Sun, who is a witness to thy falsities, or how dar'st thou be∣hold the light, for discovering thy impieties; What hopes is there that he will be true to me, who hath deceived another; or what trust is there to be reposed in him who hath been once found trea∣cherous; is not a noted Lyar justly suspected when he speaks an un∣likely truth; and do not we commonly condemn them of theft, who

have been once guilty of stealing; how then can I think thou wilt be true to me, who hast been false to thy friend, or imagine thou wilt deceive no more, when thou hast deceived already. O no, may I ne∣ver be pittied for my misfortune, if I will not beware having so fair a warning, hence forward therefore; expect no more from me then the courtesie of an enemy, since by thy treacherous actions, I have for∣gone so worthy a friend.

Having ••tter'd these spéeches away she went in a fustian fume, leaving William much perplexed at her words; for his Prenticeship now drawing towards a conclusion, he intended as soon as it was out to have married and set up for himself, but this unexpected answer of Arabella, quite alter'd the scene of his whole affairs, so that he was now a new to séek what course to take▪ much did he wonder how she came to know of the Letter, imagining many, but never mistrusting the right party that told her, for Dorothy though she had raized this storm behind his back, let still carried calm weather in her face towards him, hoping if he was once quite off with Arabella, he would be indu∣ced to come on with her; but though she effected the one with ease, the other was hard to compass, for William by this answer of Arabella, was grown quite out of Love with all women-kind, insomuch that in de∣testation of the Sex, as he was at work one day, he breathed out this song against them.

Who hopes to find a woman kind is like to loose his labour, `Tis like to bagging up the wind or playing on a Taber, The one small profit comes thereby The other yields less melody, In either there's no saver.

Why should I then repine, or once sigh, cause my Love doth leave me, Since she was born for th' very nonce on purpose to deceive me, A woman flatters if she smiles, If weeps; her tears are Crocodiles, Which ten times worse will grieve thee.

CHAP. IIII.

Dorothy seeks to gain Williams Love, how Ralph and Arabella were reconciled and a Marriage concluded betwixt William and Dorothy.

DOrothy having had knowledge how the match was broken off betwixt William and Arabella, she began to set her wi••a on work how to draw his affection unto her, loath she was to discover her love to him in plain terms, yet willing she was he should know she loved him; many haits she used, and several Engines she set on work for that purpose, but all would not do, William either knew not, or at least would not séem to know her meaning; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 notwithstanding these Re∣mora's, she would not give over her Projects so, but resolved to hait her hook with severall ingredients, hoping at last the fish would ••ite, her next device therefore was to reveal the same to him by a third person, to this purpose she acquainted a trusty friend of hers with the Project, giving him instructions how to procéed therein, who in a little space found a fit opportunity to speak unto William thereof, but so co∣vertly, and in such fit words, that the device was not in the least per∣ceived, for having galned from William by his discourse that when his time was out he intended to go from his Master, he then perswaded him to take upon him a Marriage life, extolling it highly, and setting forth all the priviledges that a Married man injoys above a single per∣son; and having as he thought wrought him into a good opinion of that kind of life, he then comended Dorothy to him as a fit person to make a wife on, highly commending and extolling her rare perfections both of body and mind, but Williams thoughts were fixed upon another object, and though he gave him the hearing, yet minded not to follow his counsel however he thanked him for his advice, but told him Marriage was a matter of so high a concernment as required some deliberation, that for his part he intended to do nothing rashly, since hasty Marriages were most commonly soon repented of, yet he would take time to con∣sider thereof, and therefore for the present desired him to make no fur∣ther discourse of it.

In the mean time Sir John Hawkwoods name grew famous in France, for like a true Hawk he seldom mist of his prey, nor did the Taylors sheirs clip the wings of his fame, but by his valour he made his Trade renowned, so that the most noble persons in the Army desi∣red his acquaintance, for by his ingenuity he attained to such perfeai∣on in Arms, that his rules were held for Maximes in the art mili∣tary. The King also to honor him the more gave him a Coat of Arms significant to his name, which was a Hawk flying in a Wood, with a Lyon and Griffen for the supporters. Ralph also was for his deferts raized from a Serjant to be a Leiutenant, who by his courteous and deboneyre carriage purchased to himself the love of the Souldi∣ers, and other inferior officers.

But the fair Arabella was much perplexed with the thoughts of the wrong she had done unto Ralph, so that the grief thereof brought her into a sickness, and that so deadly, that notwithstanding all means u∣sed for her recovery, her Parents began to despair of her life; for the Doctors were ignorant in her disease, and therefore the less able to prescribe her a Remedy, and though she were often urged by her friends if Love were not the cause of her distemper, yet would she confess nothing, but kept all to her self, and to blind them from know∣ing the Original of her malady, she imputed it to an excessive cold, she had gotten by walking late in the fields, and now her sickness ••••crea∣sing, she indeavour'd all she could to put the remembrance of Ralph out of her mind, but the more she indeavour'd it, the more did it come into her memory, and now that Love which a while ago, was in a manner quite quencht, begun to burn more then ever before; no rest could she take, it being now a stranger unto her, her chief companion was sorrow and trouble. In this languishing condition she resolved to send a Letter to Ralph, to ease her heart, and to clear the misunder∣standing that had betwixt them, which Letter contained these words.

To her faithful friend Ralph.

IF a fair acknowledgement may serve the turn for the wrong I have done ye, here you have it under my hand, I shall not say much in my own excuse it was my too much credulity; that was my fault; a

counterfeit Letter written by William under your name was the cause, his obtaining of my Love was the design, but upon the discovery; my just hatred towards him proves to be the effect. Thus have you in short the cause of our breach, if a fair reconcilement may succeed this acknowledgement, I shall willingly imbrace it, and as I was the first that committed the fault so am I the first that offer reconcile∣ment,

Your discousolate friend Arabella.

This Letter she sent away with all the spéed she could, which when Ralph had received, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 over he much marvalled at the strange carriage of things, highly resenting Williams fraud, and not altoge∣ther excusing Arabella's credulity; for though if it had béen true, he had been deservedly rejected, yet to cast him off upon the first surmizal without further proof, he thought was hard meal use however he impu∣ted it only so her circumspection, wherein we cannot be too careful, when the beargain extends to the length of our lives, and therefore he res••••ed to send her a comfortable answer, which would be a better Cordial to••then the best Phisitian of them all could prescribe. His answer wa•••• ntaired in these worde.

My dearest Araballa.

WOnder not if in reading over your Letter I was stricken into astonishm ents for who could have imagined such falshood could have been found in William, what faith can be given to foes, if friends prove thus false; or what confidence can we repose in strangers, i•• houshould acquaintance thus degenerate; and yet take it not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (my dearest Arabella) if I blame you for light belief, did you thank I would falsifie that faith I had so solemnly engaged unto you or did you imagine the sight of another face would make me alter my affection: No, far be such thoughts from taking up their lodging in my breast, and may I for ever be estranged from giving harbour to such thoughts; since then thou hast proffer'd reconciliation (al∣though there was never no breach on my side,) I willingly imbrace in and as it is said of broken bones that being once knit again toge∣ther,

they grow the stronger, so I hope our friendship by this breach; will be the more strongly cemented and durable hereafter, and that it may be true of us what the Poet once sung Amantium is a amoris, redente gratia est.

Yours constant till death Ralh.

Having sealed it up and ready to send away; he often kissed it in∣stead of the party it was directed unto; ah blessed paper (said he) which shall kiss the hands of her that commands the very all of my 〈◊〉〈◊〉; how do I envy thy happiness which shall be admitted whether my pre∣sent occasions will not permit me to come, how will whiteness appear to be sullied, when it comes to be near her more whiter handes? Now if thou attainest to that honor, that after thy reading thou brest admitted unto her bosome, being so near her heart, inform it how true and faithful I have béen unto it, what sorrows I have indured since it was estranged from me, and how happy I count my self in its re∣turn unto me; so fare thou well dear paper, and maist thou be the messenger of as much comfort unto her, as heart can wish, or tongue express.

Arabella having received this Letter and read it over was greatly satisfied therewith, so that now her thoughts being frée from those perturbations which lately afflicted them, her body began also to par∣ticipate with her thoughts, and to recover that loveliness which before it had lost, she that but now so veid of strength as unable to stir a foot, could now walk about the house without any supporter, fresh Roses budded in her chéeks, which before were pale and wan, and beauty which e're while lay a dying began now in appear in its fullest lustre, mirth which had béen a long time a stanger unto her, began now to be her familiar, and all things tended to a perfect recovery, such a strong influence hath Love over our 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that it can kill and cure, according as affectors lead us.

And now the time of William apprenticeship was out, when percei∣ving no hopes of regaining Arabel as affect•••••• he likewise resolved to go over into France, tottry his cha•••••• is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Lottery. This his resolution being make known 〈◊〉〈◊〉, D'orothy, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 much perplexed her, fearing that after all the pai•••• 〈…〉〈…〉 to win him, the

should now loose him at the long run; but being of an Indefatigable spirit, and not daunted at any disaster, she took up a resolution to im∣part her mind unto him her self, and either disswade him from his in∣tended journey, or draw him to a better opinion of her Love; to this purpose, the next Holy-day she invited him to an Ant of hers, who li∣ved at Isling••on, and sold Cakes and Ale, William very kindly ac∣cepted of her pro••••er, and went along with her, where he was very merry, and drank freely, and now being something elevated, and that the liq••••r began to operate in his Crown, he (according to the custome 〈…〉〈…〉) began to throw out some jesting words of Love to Dorothy 〈◊〉〈◊〉 is manner.

In faith Mistriss Dorothy I much marvail that so rare a beauty, and such excellent gifts of mind, should continue so long without a hus∣band, but you Maids are indued with such self-denying principles, that you will seem froward although men be never so forward; and yet let me advise ye not to be so coy, for beauty is but a fading flower and the time of our youth soon posteth away, and if you defer till such time as the mark be out of your mouth, in troth for ought I know, you may go along with the rest of the company, to that ridi∣culous employment of leading Apes in Hell.

Dorothy séeling him in this merry humor thought it was good striking whilst the Iron was hot, wherefore she imbraced the present opportunity, and thus replyed.

Then I hope William you that are so wise in counselling others, will not be unmindful of your self, but take time by the fore-top, before age steals upon you undiscerned and yet methinks if your mind were so bent, you might have English beauties enough whereon to fix your affection, that should not need to ramble into France, but you per∣haps will say, it is not Venus but Mars invites you thither, & that you de light more in arms then in amours; that a Souldiers life merits praise, and that honour is the reward of Valour; suppose this were true, but how many dangers must you run thorow before you attain to what you propose; how few be there that attain it, how many thousands are their that perish in the pursuit of it? and besides are not the pri∣vate Souldiers them that indure the heat of the battle, and yet, do not the Commanders carry the honour of the day; I omit here the dangers of the Sea in your passage over, the indispostion of your

body by reason of a different climate, the tediousness of sickness when absent from friends, with a thousand other things which I might alledge, every one of them of sufficient weight to alter your mind from your intended journey, but suppose you could overcome all these difficulties, and escape all the dangers I have here spoken off, yet what is your aim in all this, but that having run thorow so many hazards, you would then desire to live in peace, and that the Sun of your Life should set in a calm evening, and why may not you as well live in peace now, without exposing your self to all those hazards, when (as I said before) not one in a thousand that doth attain to his proposed ends, for though death be not far off from any one of us, yet is he alwayes 〈…〉〈…〉 Soldiers 〈◊〉〈◊〉; my counsel therefore to you is, to settle your thoughts and affections here in England; for a trundling stone never gather moss, and a rambling mind is never in quiet.

But said William, it is travail that accomplishes a Man, makes him fit for discourse, and gains him experience in the affairs of the world. O how dull and rustical are they who never went further then the smoak of their own Chimneys, fit only to discourse of the Plough and the Flail; Then for a Souldiers life, what greater honour then to fight in defence of his King and Country! and for the perils you speak of; that are incident to the Wars, the Poet gives you a suffici∣ent Answer.

What danger comes to him whom walls of Iron Both back and breast, and also head enviorn.

For the dangers of the Sea; indeed they are many, and yet who can promise themselves security on Land; nay, doth not Death tryumph far more on Land then at Sea, although the Sea be more spacious then the Land, and if a man be destinied to be drown'd, what matter is it, when he is dead, whether he become food for fishes, or a feast for the Worms. Then for the inconveniency of being in a strange Country, to a wise man every Land is his own home; and should sickness sur∣prize us, no Nation so barbarous as to wrong those who are not able to right themselves, when many times at home we suffer that by the neglect of our kindred, which a stranger out of a Christian compassi∣on

will not suffer to be offer'd unto us. But the main business you drive 〈◊〉〈◊〉, is (I suppose) that by marrying, and setling my self to my vocation, I might enjoy the pleasures of the world, live at home in quiet, and content my self with only hearing what others do; indeed Marriage is an honourable late, and if a men meet not with the ho∣nester wife, a hornable state likewise, sith then 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wives are thick sown and thin come▪ up, I mean to fetch a ramble, to see if such crea∣tures live in other Countryes.

Introth William (quoth Dorothy) perhaps there you may be fitted, and have one as dear bought as far fetcht, which though proverbially it be good for Ladies,, yet I think by consequence you may speed better nearer home, for going so far, though your ware be light, yet for ought I know it may prove dear of the carriage. And why so addicted to the mode of France; are our English beauties so con∣temptible; or are they not rather the glory of their Sex; for why else is it so commonly spoken that to the making up of a compleat wo∣man, there is required the parts of a Dutch-woman from the girdle downwards, the parts of a French-woman from the girdle to the shoulders, over which must be placed an English face to the perfect∣ing of all the rest: And therefore William if your mind be more ad∣dicted to the tail then to the top, I should rather advise you to go unto Holland then France, where (if the saying be true) the women are most compleat, and if you fear to venture on marriage state for fear of ho••ning, of all women have a care of the French, who (they say) are as full of fire, as the Dutch-women are of Ice.

By this time the Sun began to draw towards his Western home, so that Dorothy ••earing she should let the slip without speak∣ing any thing to the purpose, she therefore began to draw nearer to him, and with a well composed countenance spake as followeth.

But suppose William you could light of a Maid to your mind, one whose features and fortunes would be equivalent to you, could you be so cynial as to refuse such a match? is not a wife a second self, a bosom friend, a rich Cabinet wherein a man may lock up his secrets; a partner with him in all sorrows and eares, a true friend in time of need, a yoak-fellow to draw with him thorow the cumbersome cares & perplexities of this World? I might enlarge my self very much on

this matter but the thing is so apparent as witheut all contradiction, unless it be by such women-haters as that Cynical Phylosopher Dio∣genes, who being asked when it was best time to marry, replyed, for young men it is too soon, and for old men it is too late, inferring thereby it was not good to marry at all▪ but this we must take as spo∣ken by Diogenes, who had not the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Dog given him for nought, for should all be of his mind the World would be a desart within these hundred years. And therefore William let ••e advise ye, as one that loves ye well, to give over this project of travailing, which can be no wayes advantagious unto you, and to think upon some person of whom to make a wife, for certainly no Maid▪ if at least she be of my mind,) that will refuse to joyn with you in marri∣age.

These words were spoken home to the purpose, so that William could not chuse but take notice of her meaning; and therefore now his hand was in, and that the fair Arabella was quite cut of his mind. he suddenly replyed, then in troth Mrs. Dorothy I shall take you at your word, and since it is said few words to a bargain are best we will make no long circumstance about the matter, for you are she I shall pitch upon to be my Bride. Dorothy by h••r silence gave consent, and so with a kiss they clapt up the bargain. But the next morning after William had slept, and thorowly considered of what he had done, he begun to repent himself that he had béen so hasty, and though he meant to perform his promise, yet he resolved first to go over into France: This his resolution he imparted to Dorothy, who endeavour'd all she could to perswade him to she contrary: but upon his promise that he would return in a short time, with déep protestations of his fidelity unto her, she at last gave her consent, so having provided all things ready, he took ship, and having a prosperous wind he in short time ar∣rived in France.

CHAP. V.

How Sly the Lawyer was deceived in his Bedfellow by the means of Doro∣thy.

THere was an old Country Lawyer named Sly that was near of kin to Dorothies Master, who coming to London every Term, to save charges used to lye there, this Lawyer was a stale ••atchelor, but very leacherous, and yet so penurious that he was loath to be at the changes to maintain a wife, for he thought it was more saving, not to kéep a Cow of his own, so long as he could have a quart of Milk for a penny. Now it was his chance to be at London soon after that William was gone into France, and Dorothy using to tend on him in his Chamber, the old Leather thought to draw her to his will; and having presented her with some slight gifts, more gaudy then costly, he at last brake his mind vnto her, promising her Mountains if she would fulfill his desire, Dorothy at first gave him very snappish an∣swers, threatning to make his business known to her Master, but the ••awrer still persisted in his suit, adding still more gifts to the former,

so that at the last as overcome she séemingly condescended unto him; and promised the next Night when her Master and Mistress was in ••ed to come and lie with him; The leach••rous Goat was over-joy'd at these words hugging himself in his supposed delight, and perswa∣ding himself that she meant unfeignedly. But Dorothy against the appointed time, had provided him a bedfellow which proved very litt••e to his content. There was a deformed lame woman which used to do the drudgery belonging to the house, this Creature had Dorothy per∣swaded to act her part, and gave her instructions how to mannage it wisely, greatly charging her not to speak to him for••ear of discovery, which she might well do under a vail of modesty, and so having taught her her lesson at the time appointed she conducted her so the Lawyers Chamber, who was gotten to bed with a longing exp••cta••ion of Do∣rothies company; but now hearing the Chamber door open. and the woman coming to his beds side, his heart was overjoy'd, and putting his arm out of the bed, claspt it about her neck, and gave her a kiss, saying. Now I see Dorothy thou art as good as thy word, come pre∣thee make hast and pull off thy cloath, for I have kept thy place warm against thy coming. The woman was soon unready and went into the bed, but when the Lawyer began to imbrace her, he thought he smelt an ill favour'd favour, and therefore he said, prethy Dorothy what hast thou been doing off, thou smellest so strong of Kitchin-stuff I am not able to indure, good sweet-heart go to the window, where stands a glass of Rose-water wherewith thou most make thy self swéeter. The woman hereupon rose out of the bed, and went to the window, intending to make her self all honey for the Lawyer, but in∣stead of the Rose-water, she took up an ink-glass, and powring it into the palm of her hand, she rubbed therewith her face, neck and breasts, wherewith she made her self so amiable, that had it been in the light, she would have frighted the Lawyers leachery away, having done this, she went to bed again, and though she were not much the swéeter, yet the heat of lust made him bear with all ill-favour'd smells, now first against the time they should rise, Dorothy went and called up her Master, Mistriss and Arabella, telling them the Lawyer lay a dy∣ing, and that he was just now giving up the Ghost, whereupon half unready they ran to his Chamber with all the speed they could; the Lawyer and his bedfellow were much frighted at this sudden intrusion, but when he had drawn the Curtain,

[illustration]

and saw what manner of Creature he had lain with all night, he be∣gan to cry out, the Devil, the Devil; Arabella, with her Father and Mother were as much frighted, thinking it had béen the Devil indéed but when they heard, the woman speak calling him old leacherous Rogue, with all the Billingsgate terms she could reckon up, they then perceived who it was; whereupon their great fear was turned into an excessive laughter; Dorothy who had practised all this mischief, was now most busie in laughing at it, but the Lawyer was so ashamed, that getting up, he bid them adien, and never after that time came to the house any more.

CHAP. VI.

William kindly entertained in France by Sr. John Hawkwood, Ralph challenges him to fight, and upon discontent returns into England.

VVIlliam having prosperously arrived in France, went the next way to the English Camp, being conducted thither by the trumpet of Fame which loudly sounded forth their Heroick praises; where he found Sr. John Hawkwood like the Son of Bellona, intentive upon his Martial affairs, instructing his men in their Military postures, and shewing them both how to receive and avoid the shock of the Enemy. But upon the coming of William he committed his charge to the managing of Ensigne, (for Ralph upon some necessary occasions was then absent from his company) and kindly entertained his old companion, being as familiar with him, as when they used to sit cross leg'd on the Shop-board toge∣ther; for he was free from that haughty pride which now adaies possesses some of our upstart Gallants, who being raised from a low, though but to an ordinary fortune, forget not only their old acquain∣tance, but also themselves.

After some repast, William acquainted him with the passages be∣twixt himself and Arabella, yet pretending that what he••••d, was only in revenge of the denial she had given to Sir John, & not out of any ha∣t••ed to Ralph, although (said he) she cast him off: (for ••oth He and Sir John were still ignorant of their reconcilements) and the••efore (said he) I desire that Ralph should not know thereof. But w••••••ies they were thus ••••ccursing, Ralph came in, who seeing William, and remembring how by his means that from of discention had béen raised betwixt him and Arabella, the fire of revenge strait sparkled out of his eyes and drawing his sword, false man said he, now shall thy life pay for thy treachery, and there withall offered to strike at him, but Sir John-Hawkwood interposed betwixt them, and laying hold on Ralph, commanded him to put up his s••ord, or else (said he) you will force me to draw mine,; what is this your valour to strike

an unarmed man? or is this your greatest courtesie to welcome an old campanion? Noble Captain said Ralph, if you knew the false∣hood that was lodged in that breast, you would think his life too small a recompence to expiate his faults; but (said Sir Hohn) passion is no competent judge of mens actions, and to build your knowledge upon heresay cannot be good, since misreport hath wronged many; defer your guar••el therefore till you are fuller satisfied of the grounds of it, and if William hath done you wrong, no doubt but he will ac∣knowledge it, and given you satisfaction.

Ralph herewith as half perswaded, but principally because he could not do otherwise, in the presence of his Captain put up his sworn, res••rving his r••venge tell another season, and so without speak∣ing any more words he went his way; Sir John Hawkwood perceive∣ing that Ralphs malice was implacable, perswaded William to list himself under some other Captain, till such time as he had gotten some experience, when he would not be wanting to use his best endeavour to give him preferment; William according to his directions went and listed himself under that renowned Champion Edward the black Prince, where in a short space through his industry, and Sir John Hawkwoods good word, (who loved him entirely) he attained to an Ensigned place. This vexed Ralph to see his Rival advanced, for where envy is harboured in the brest of a man, he takes anothers good to be his hurt, and now his only studdy was revenge, but want∣ing other means to effect it, he sent him a challenge in these words.

If thy heart be as good to fight as it hath been to invent mischeif, then meet me to morrow morning at thy own appointed place and weapon, where I shall attend ye, to revenge those injuries and af∣fronts offer••d unto me, and to the fair Arabella, which if thou shalt refuse to perform, I shall proclaim thee a Coward, and not fit to bear Armes, or to usurp the name of a Souldier.

Ralph

William having received the challenge, was very much disconten∣ted, for though he was of an invincible courage, not dreading any danger, yet being conscious to himself of the injury he had offered to

Ralph, he could willingly have wished the challenge might have been waved; yet being loath to undergo the aspertion of a Coward, he re∣solved what ever hapned to undertake it, and thereupon returned him this answer.

Lievtenant Ralph.

What passion moves you to these extreame I know not, but seeing you will needs be so fool hardy as to venture a Duel upon it, your challenge shall be answered, and since you have put it to me for the choice of the place and weapon, I shall appoint the field on the North side of the Camp for the one, and back-sword for the other; so till I see you farewel.

William.

The next morning accer••ing to appointment they met, with a full resolution the sword should end all difference betwixt them; but Sir John Hawkword having some inkling of the business, was in the field as soon as either of them, where seeing them come fully resolved to fight, he spake unto them in this manner.

What desperate folly, or madness rather, hath thus bewitched you; as I am not of your counsel, so I wish it had never come to my know∣ledge; If your stock of valour be so surpassing great, bestow it up∣on the common enemy, and let it not be employed to private disad∣vantage; there you may fight your belly full with honour, whereas here he that gains the victory purchases only disgrace and danger; what is your feud so deadly that nothing can wash it away but blood? or is your malice so irreconcilable, that the breaches may not be made up again? is life of so little worth to throw it away thus idlely; and doe you set so slieght a price of your souls, as to hazard them thus for a thing of nothing? what, is there no other remedy but that one of you must dye, and can death only make expiation? I you can no better command your own passions then thus, you will never be fit to command others.

Whiles Sir John Hawkwood talked thus to them, there was an alarum in the Camy, for the French in a bravado appeared with a

whole body of Horse, whereupon Sir John Hawkwood commanded them to their several charges, which they obeyed, so that the publick danger, put off at that present this private Duel. The English Commanders were soon ready to receive the French, who came on in a full cariere, but being repelled at the first shock, they ran away with

[illustration]

greater speed then they came. The noble Hawkwood who dreaded no danger when his presence was requisite, received some wounds in this skirmish, as indelible characters of honor; both Ralph and Willi∣am in their several stations performed gallant service, so that malice which before was a poyson, here prov`d a cordial, when both parties in emulation strived who should ••o best against the common Enemy. But the French seeing themselves thus beaten by the English, desired a peace, offering to King Edward such propositions, as conduced both to his Honour and profit, which after some small canvassing were ac∣cepted, and the yeare ratified on both sides; so that now the Camp

break up, and all that would might depart home. But the Gene∣rous Hawkwood not loving to lye idle when any action of Honour was to be performed on the worlds Theatre, hearing that there was warrs in Italy, resolved to go thither, many gallant English men who thi••••sted after honour, joyning with him in his resolution, but none more for∣ward to go then William, whose vallant mind still thirsted after glories prize? The noble Hawkwood who commanded in chief in this expe∣dition, advancing him to the degree of a Captain, which Ralph so sto∣mached that he could by no means be ••••••ced to joyn with them in that expedition; but taking his solemn leave of Sir John Hawkwood & the rest of those valiant sonnes of Mars, he returned 〈◊〉〈◊〉 England, where he was received with great joy of his Master and Mistres, but especially his most dearest Arabella, to whom in a short time after he was so∣lemnly married, to both their great contents and pleasure,

CHAP. VII.

The valiant Acts of Sir John Hawkwood in Italy and how he married with the Daughter of Duke Barnaby.

THe renowned Marchant Taylor Sir John Hawkwood, having now compleated his army, consisting of sir thousand Horse and Foot, took his march towards Italy, making great spoyl all the way he went in the East harts of the Kingdome of France, his name carrying such a terrour before it, as struck dead the hearts of all opposers, com∣ing into Italy he joyned himself with the Marquess of Mountferrat, under whom he ••ectormed such noble services, as equalled if not exceeded that of the Antient Romans, he having an exceeding ripe and quick conceit, to force occasions, to frame his resolutions, and to make spee∣dy execution, being also as occasion required, both hot in his fights, and notable for his delays, so that he soon grew to be the wonder and admiration of all that Nation for martial Discipline.

Soon after Lionel Duke of Clarence, sonne to Edward the third King of England, came into Italy to marry the Lady Violent••, Daugh∣ter to Galeasins Lord of Millain, Sir John Hawkwood hear∣ing thereof, resolved to make one in that royall solemnity, and there∣upon

forsook the Marquess, and attended the Duke to his marriage.

At which time Barnaby the brother of Galeasius had great warrs with the State of Mantua, who having heard of the noble acts of Sir John Hawkwood, humbly desi••ed his assistance, for he being himself a warlike Prince, had a great desire to make some tryal of the disci∣pline & prowess of the Englishmen. Sir John accepted of his proffer, & in a short time gave such proofs of his manhood & valour, as made Duke Barnaby highly to admire him, defeating his Enemies in several skir∣mishes, so that those who before were almost Conquerers now became humble suppliants, and them who ere while stood on high demande, now come to as lowly terms.

Duke Barnaby having now found by experience, that Fame was sar short in the praises of the noble Hawkwood, he grew into such a likeing of him, and that likeing producing such love, that he greatly desired to have him his sonne in law, and thereupon bestowed on him in marriage his daughter Domnia, a Lady of a most transcendent beauty, and whose wit and eloquence ran paralel with her beauty, one in whom he found such ••acts as he l••st in his Arabella, who could not choose but beleved, being an lovely, one of such a rare fortune and composition, that had the Trojan Paris seen her naked, he would have strighted his Hallen of Grece for her.

This alliance bring made in respect of his valour in war, was the occasion of the encrease both of his pay, and of the renown of the Englishmen throughout all Italy: that a most pulssant Prince in war••••, had not without sufficient cause to induce him, conceived so good opinion of the valour of a man that was a stranger; and for this cause his hel•• was desired by all the Princes and free Cities of Italy. For at that time all marital affairs amongst the, Italians were managed by forrain forces and Captains.

But Prince Barnaby growing ungrateful for those many benefits received by the English men, the noble Hawkwood (notwithstanding their alliance) revolted from him, and joyned with their Enemies, giving thereby a shrewd turn of the scale to the other side; taking by force the strong Towns of Fuera and Banacanalo, with many other places of importance, all which he sold and disposed of at his pleasure; William under him acting his part so well, that he was promoted from a Captain of frot to a Collonel of Horse; and now new adventures

pre••enting themselves to their hands, they went to aid Pope Grego∣ry, recovering for him many Cities and places of importance, with were revolted from his obedience: afterwards he aided the Florentiques against the Pisans, doing such noble feats of arme••, that the ver•• dread of his name was enough to make his Enemies ••un, all Princes court∣ted his friendship he having as it were chained the Goddess Victoria to his side wheresoever he came: those who loved not his person ma∣ligned his perfections, for virtue is alwaies attended on by envy, yet was he of such an affable carriage that he wan both love and respect together: thus seated on the top of Fortunes wheel••, we will leave him for a while to speak of Williams Return into England, and how he was entertained by his dea••est Dorothy.

CHAP. VIII.

Williams return into England, his proof of Dorothies con∣stancy and how they were married together.

THe renowned William having thus in Italy by his extraordinary valour, purchased to himself an honorable Character, being re∣puted (next to Sir John Hawkwood) the most experienced Comman∣der of that age. He having now béen absent from England the space of seven years, and remembring the promise he had made unto Doro∣thy, which was to return in a little space; knowing how far he had d••∣viated from that his promise, he therefore resolved with all exp••dition to return into England, and there withal acquainted Sir John Hawk∣wood with his determination; who was vary loath to part with his company, being a person of an exquesite carriage and approved va∣lour and therefore to disswade him from his purpose he used these ex∣pressions.

William you are now mounting on the Theater of Honour, & have already gained an indifferent good blast in the Trumpet of Fame, but what should make you now have off running, when you have al∣most attained to the Goale? what shall deter you now from the pur∣suit of that which hitherto you have been so forward in? what strange

resolution hath thus on a suddain allter'd your determination? what are you resolved to throw off the Name of a Souldier, and to take up that of a Lover; to abandon the Camp of Mars, and to follow the Court of Cupid: to put off your steely Cors••, and to put on a silken Robe: & will you thus bury your ••orme▪, ••ur, to lye in a Ladies lap: who ha••e the tears of ••reckadiles, and the songs of Syren•• to enchant men from the pursuit of honourable Atchievements: remember your self then William, and stain not the reputation of the noble society of Marchant Taylors, whose fame or deeds of Armes hath hither∣to remained unblemished.

But no persw••sions 〈…〉〈…〉 the resolutions of William, who thought every minute 〈…〉〈…〉 he had enjoye a si••ht of his beloved Dorothy, and the 〈…〉〈…〉 of Sir John Hawk∣wood, he emb••r•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 England, 〈…〉〈…〉 banks he had not beheld in man 〈…〉〈…〉 by Neptune and Eolus, having a ••air wind and 〈…〉〈…〉, he in short time arrived at London, the happ•• Port 〈…〉〈…〉 his ••••ishes were directed.

Being come on Land, he resolved not to discover himself at the first instant to his beloved Dorothy, which he might well canceal, his commenance by the length of time, end difference of Climate, being much alter'd, He therefore went to a Tavern ha••d by, from whence he informed her by a messenger, that a Gentleman from a friend of hers in Italy, would gladly speak with her. Dorothy at the hearing of the news was much overjoyed, and promised the Messenger to be with him presen••ly, which she accordingly performed, and entring the chamber where he was, being almost perswaded, yet not fully con∣fident it was her dearest William, she began with kind words to bid him welcome home: but William. with a counterfeit spéech giving her to understand that she was mistaken, spake to her in this manner

I do not wonder (dear Mistres) that you are so mistaken, since many times before the like hath hapned, even by those who knew us both very well, the most percingest eye hardly discerning any diffe∣rence betwixt us, either in height, phisyogmony, couller of the hair or other outward part: long time were we acquainted together, our intimacy producing strong affection betwixt us; whether it were that likeness were the cause of Love, or what other motive caused the same I cannot tell: but so it was that in weal or woe, prosperity or

adversity, nothing could seperate us; many times would he discourse to me of the love and affection passed betwixt ye, and of the solemn engagement he made to you for his quick return, blaming himself for not performing his promise, and resolving upon the first oppor∣tunity, when he had in some measure set his affaires in order to re∣turn unto you, which no doubt he had performed, had not Death by a cross accident cut him off in his determination, which hapned in this manner.

The Duke of Millaine had proclaimed a solemn Justs to be hold∣en in the honour of his birth day, to which resorted many Knights and gallant commanders of great renown and valour, to exercise their skil in seats of Armes, in honour of their Mistresses; at the time ap∣pointed none was more forward in those laudable encounters then your true and faithful Lover William, whose turn being to Just with an Italian Knight named Lopenzo, at the third encounter a splinter of the Knights Lance chanced to run into Williams Helmet, and peirced his eye-sight; so that feeling himself mortally wounded, he desired to be carried to some place near at hand, where he might in quiet breath his last, which friendly curtesie I and some others performed for him; and now feeling the near approach of death, because of the great love and familiarity betwixt us, and of the near likeness of one person, he earnestly desired and perswaded me to think of no otherwise but you, as the only maid in the world worthy to be beloved, for your noble constancy and high deserts, which whosoever shall not love, shewes himself to be a hater of virtue; and therefore by that former af∣fection betwixt you, desiring, and by the Authority of love command∣ing you, that the love you bore to him, you should turn to me; assu∣ring you that nothing could please his soul more then to see you and I matched together, wherefore according to his desire Iam come (with faithful love built upon your deserts) to offer myself, and to beseech you to take the offer.

Here he made a stop to hear what Dorothy would say, who first making most hearty sighs, (doing such obsequies as she could to her supposed dead ••riend William) thus answered him.

Sir for the great love you shewed to my dear Friend, I give you many thanks, but this great matter you propose unto me, wherein I am not so blind as not to see what happiness it should be unto me in the injoy∣ment

of so accomplisht a person: know Sir, if my heart were mine ••o give, you before all other should have it, but Williams it is, though dead; their I begun, their lend all matter of affection, I hope I shall not long tarry after him, with whose outward person had I only been in love with I should be so with you, having the same outward parts: but it was William self I loved, and love which no likeness can make one, no commandement dissolve, nor no death fini••h. And shall I then (said he) receive such disgrace as to be refused. Sir said she let not that word be used, who know your worth far beyond my me∣rits, but it is only happiness I refuse, since of the only happiness I could or can desire, I am refused.

Scarce had she spoken out these words, when not willing to hold her in g••eifs bonds any longer, but with his di••covery to convert her sorrowful moans to smiling joy, he ran to her, and imbracing her, why then my dearest Dorothy, (said he) take and enjoy thy William, scarce could she at first believe him the truth, such strong impressions had the former story taken in her heart, but at last being throughly convinced, her joy so excéeded the bounds of reason that she could not speak one word; but was constrained through her new conceived plea∣sure to breath a sad sigh or two into her Lovers bosome, who as courte∣ously entertained her with loving kisses; whe••e after these two Lovers had fully discoursed to each other the secrets of their souls, how Doro∣thy for his love had continued unmarried, notwithstanding the impor∣tunity of many and rich suitors; as also William of the dangers he had run through in his long pe••egrination, having refreshed their spiri••s with a glass of wine, they hand in hand went to her Masters, but the news was no sooner spread about the Town that William was come, but the Bells rung, and bonestres abounded, the journy-men Taylors left all their seats to welcome him home, and the Promices refused to work that day; Ralph notwithstanding the great feud formerly betwixt them, with his beloved Arabella. came to give him a visit, all the whole talk of the City being only of William and his deserved praises. His Master and Mistres the next day made a great feast, to which was in∣vited most of the worshipful society of Merchant-Taylors, and other wealthy Citizens, and not long after William and Dorothy were mar∣ried, at whose wedding were most costly shows and triumphs, all

which I pass over, and return to speak of Sir John Hawkwood, whole noble a••eheivements now calls my Pen to wake upon him.

CHAP. IX.

Amurath Prince of Fez seeks to get the Princess Mariana by treachery, they are shipwrackt at Sea, Amurath is killed whereupon ensueth war betwixt the Emperour of Fez, and Ferdinando King of Cilicia.

THe noble and adventurous Merchant-Taylor Sir John Hawk-wood having by his skill in armes and fortunate success (as you have heard) grown to such renown that his name was famous throughout an Christendome, yet still thi•• sted after glories prize, and to add to what he had already done; esteeming his past victories which he had won in those parts of the world as nothing, unless he also made his name redoubted by some famous exploit against the enemies of Christ, and that he might bathe his sword in the Pagans blood, and long was it not ere Fortune put a golden opportunity into his hands, to perform the same, which thus happened.

In the famous Country of Cilicia, a place much beh••lding to Na∣ture for the extraordinary bounties she had bestowed upon it, there li∣ved a King named Ferdinando who was a Prince endowed with ma∣ny noble and vertuous customes; that had only one Daughter named Mariana, a Princess of a curious make, in whom Nature and educa∣tion strove who should adde most to compleat her the wonder of that age, This her beauty and superexcellent endowments being blazed abroad, invited many of the Neighbouring Princes to sue for her in marriage, but none more forward, nor deserved better then Arnaldo, Sonne to the King of Candy, so that her Father Fardinando began to listen unto his suit, and knowing his Daughters affections chiefly placed on him, glad that the had made so good a choice, he so forwarded the same, that the day was appointed for the celebration of the Nup∣tials, to the great content of the two young Princes, who now hoped to enjoy the fruits of their love.

Great were the preparations made for this royal wedding, not only for variety of chear, but also for curious & costly Pageants, which were devised after the ••arest manner, but all this great preparation came to 〈◊〉〈◊〉, their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 their songs to sighs, and their mirth to m••uring, and h•••• ••ppon 〈…〉〈…〉 followeth.

Amongst o••her 〈◊〉〈◊〉 where F••m•• had blazed abroad the p••r••ecti∣ons of Mariana 〈…〉〈…〉 Fez, whose only Son Amurath (a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of a vitioas 〈…〉〈…〉 her a prize worthy the looking after, and therefore (having obtained leave of his Father) he provided a fléet of Ships, for the bringing her home to Fez, having in conceit already obtained her good will, 〈…〉〈…〉 if he falled, he resolved to make up his Market by force; to the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 re∣solution he arrives in Cilicia, haping for the greatness of his b••th to be rather sued unto, to accept of Mariana, then that he himself should become a Suiter unto her, but greatness without desert finds no place where goodness sits inthronized, for he having made known his love ••uit to the Princess Mariana, received from her a flat denyal; which so ex∣aspe••ated his spi••ics, that now he breaths forth nothing but revenge, and long was it not ere he found an opportunity to put his malice in execution, for having by his espials learned that the two Lovers, every evening al the shutting up of Titan•• golden Gates, used to walk a∣broad to take the comfort of the Western breathing aire, he with a party of his followers suddenly surprized them, and carried them priso∣ners to his ship, where being deaf to all entreaties, he hoised sailes, and with as much ex••edition as could be made, sailed towards the Country of Fez, but the Heavens being angry at such wicked attempts, sent forth such a violent tempest on the sea, as made the stoutest spirit of them all to tremble. For the second day after their departure, rose as it were a foggie mist from out the seas, when on a sudden the clear∣ness of the skyes might not be séen for the darkness of the air, dreadful flashes of lightning séemed to have set the seas-on fire, and terrible vollies of thunder threatned the shaking of the Heavens, and sundring of the earth; showers of rain powred down as if there had béen a ge∣neral inundation, and the winds roared so boisterously from each cor∣ner, as if Boreas, Auster, Zephirus and Eurus had been at odds a∣mong themselves, or joyned together for the destruction of their vessel; now were they at their wits end, neither seeing for the dark, nor hear∣ing

for the noise, how any thing should be amended, and yet was eve∣ry thing amiss; one while their ship was so high they scarcely can discern the hollow waves from aloft, another while they sink so low, they hardly can descry the to••s of over péering billows from beneath: and though it were midday by the course of time, yet seemed it mid∣night by occasion of the storm. Now knew they not what to do, and yet was every one doing something: one plyeth the pump, until for weariness he fainieth, ano••her la••eth out wa••e••, until for weakness he falleth: some pour forth their praiers, others impationtly torment their own bodies, and some vow ••weet incense and obla••ions to the Gods; this man (in vain) repaireth the ••racking tacklings, and ano∣ther at adventure renteth down the falls; here standeth one fast cling∣ing to a loose board, there another clean st••ipped to abide his chance, every one disorderly dooing that thing whereunto the extremity of his passion did presently direct him In the mean time the two Lovers who ex••pected nothing but to be devoured 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that merciless element, fer∣vently committed their souls unto God, being as willing to descend into Neptunes briner habitation, as to go along with that Mahume∣tan Prince, from whom they expected not the least favour. Amurath himself who though hardned in villany, yet seeing the inevitable dan∣ger he was in, began to shake with fear, and to repent of his treachery against the two Princes, all persons thus surrounded with despair, no∣thing was expected but to have the Sea their grave, and to be devou∣red by the inhabitants of that warry element. In this tempestous condition w•• will leave them for a while, and return to the Court of King Ferdinando, which upon the news of the Princesses surprizal, was stricken into a sudden astonishment, the King mourned, and the Nobles. held down their heads: the Ladies lamented, and the Com∣mons sighed: ••••;stead of musick and songs of triumph, nothing was now heard but gr••ans and la••enta 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Oye inhabiters of the Coe∣lestial Mansions said the sorrowful King Ferdinando, why do ye suffer such impieties to be done? O why did I live to see this day, that the greatest comfort of my gray hairs, should become the ch••efest object of my miseries? O restore to me my Mariana again, or take from me this poor remainder of my life, which without her company will be but irksome and tedious unto me. In this manner complained the woeful King, making the stones relent at his dolorous complaints;

but Fortune that is cons••ant in nothing but inconstancy, soon ceased his complaints, turned his mourning into melody, and his weeping and tears, into joy and ••aughter.

For about four dayes a••••e, the lost couple were again heard of, be∣ing by shipwrack 〈◊〉〈◊〉 upon the Cilician coast: for the Heavens ••eing angry with Amuraths designe, maugre what the Sail••rs cou••d do, brought the Sip back again, and being by the force of the wind driven upon a rock near the ••••ore, the Sip split in a thousand peices, in this sudden exigency every one said h••ld something which might be con••ucible to the saving of their ••ves: here was one fast clinging to the mast, whose lofty height layno•••• vel with the waves, there was another fast ••rasping an empty chest which with ut Oars or Pilot did by de∣grees 〈…〉〈…〉 the shore, there another embracing a plank, making that his Asyllum in so eminent danger, others whose skill in swiming made them more adve••turous, committed themselves to the mercy of the Sea, being tossed on the waves like fortunes tennis hall, till at last those waves ••osse•• them safe to land. The Prince Arnaldo whom no peril whatsoever could separate from his dear Mariana, desireing to l••ve onely for her sake, and yet to live without her would be worse then death unto him seeing himself surrounded by danger on every side, he began hastly to provide for his and the Prince••es safety, and the Gods being careful of their preseservation, they happened upon a part of the side of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, so long and large that they had room to sit thereon, and expect the evert what Destiny had determined to do with them. Whilst thus on the Ark of providence they wee wafting to∣wards the shore, they espyed Prince Amurath a stride on a price of a∣broken m••st, labou••ing with his hands to preserve himself from drown∣ing, for hough being conscious of his guilt he expected to receive unwel∣come entertainment wheresover he should land, yet the sight of death was so terrible to him, that he resolved to prolong his life as long as he could. The Prince Arnaldo though secing him in this forlorn con∣dition, yet could not forbear to speake thus unto him. Perfidious man (said he) now is thy treachery recompenced upon thy own head, though therewith thou maist glory of our ruine, which yet can be but small comfort to th••e, when thou shalt carry such a load of guilt with thee to the other world. But ••cearcely had he uttered th••••e words, when a billow parted them, from hearing each other, by

this time some of the Sa••lors had swam to the land and informed the Cilicians in what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Princes were in, who thereupon maned some boates out, and taking the despa••ing Lovers into them, they happily landed to their unspeable comfort, soon after actived Prince Amurath mounted in state on his wooden horse, but when the Cilici∣ans understood it was he by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 t••eachery their Pr••ncess was car∣ried away, like the en••aged Grecian dames when they fell upon the sweet tongued Poet Orpheus, so did these peope fall upon him; and notwithstanding Arnaldo did what he ••oul•• to perswade them to the contrary, as being willing to have reserved him to a farther examina∣tion, yet were his endeavers therein, but like to his who goeth a∣bout to stop the Carrent of a stream when a••it once overflowes its banks; no prayers nor entreaties could stop their fury, never ceaseing till such time that one had gotten an arm of him, another a 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and another some other kind of limb, all which they vapo••ring shewed a∣bout as the remarkable Trophees of their victory, ••ay so bach••rous was their cruelty, that with their staves they never left belabou••ing the remaining part of his dismembred t••unk, so long as they could perceive the least life or mot••on in it.

The news of this Shipwrack and the Princes safety ••ame wich a spéedy fleight to the ears of King Ferdinando, which struck him into such an extasy of joy as could scarcely be contained in the bounds of reason, although it something displeased him that Prince Amurath was murdered in that manner; but his Daugh••ers fa••ety would not suffer any g••ief to enter into the Crannies of his heart, when joy had taken fall possession thereof?. But much he longed to have his eyes confirmed with the truth of the news his ears hard, and there∣fore taking horse, with some few of his Nobles, he suddenly posted down to the Sea-side; but to express the joy at the meeting of the King & the two Princes, is beyond the skill of my pen to declare, being a subject fit only for imagination, all words whatsoever wanting weight wherewith to express it; let it suffice to tell ye, that after some short stay and congratulation on both sides for this happy meeting, they returned again to the Citty of Adrianople, the place where King Ferdinando kept his Court, from whence the King speedily dispatch∣eth a Messenger to the Emperour of Fez, to excuse himself for the death of Prince Amurath, And now are great preparations made

again for the wedding, the King intending to have it solemnized in a more sumptuous manner then was before intended; but Fortune once againe crossed his designs, and turned his Scene of mirth into mourning, as we shall declare unto you.

For Fame had with speedier wings ore gone the messenger, and carried the report of Prince Amuraths death to Fez, before such time that he could get thither, representing the same to the Empe∣riour in such a hor••id garbe, as made it seem to be ten times blacker then indeed it was, for they not only added to the exquisiteness of his torments, but that all was done by the command of King Ferdinando, and that he himself was a spectator thereof: whereupon the Empe∣rour in a Marvellous rage vowed by Mahomet that he would not leave one Christian alive in Cilicia, but offer them all in s••c••ifice to appea••e the Ghost of his murdered Son, and to 〈…〉〈…〉 his oath he ra••••ed a mostpoissant army, consisting of a hundred thousand men,

[illustration]

with which he suddenly landed in Cilicia, burning and destroying with

unspeakable cruelty wheresoever he came, neither for nor Age re∣ceived any pitty at his hands, nor place but felt the weight of his cru∣elty; the hoary head and thee tender Virpin were alike destined to the sword: the Infants sprawled on the tops of the souldiers pikes, and wives were ravished before their Husbands faces; the riches of the Realm were made the Spoil of the Souldiers, and all things lended to a general destruction, as well of the means to preserve life, as of life it self. To put a stop to such destructive procéedings, King Fer∣dinando speedily raiseth an Army, and with great courage setteth up∣on the Emperour, where betwixt them was fought such a bloody bat∣tel, that the ground lay covered with slaughterd ca••kasses, and the grass was changed from a verdent colour to a purple hue; Fortune was for a long while indifferent on which head to put the palm of victory on, such equal courage appearing on both sides, as if death were less feared then to be conquered. The Prince Arnaldo in whom the blossomes of courage began to bud, as having never been so sufficient∣ly tryed before in the fields of Mars, knowing that this day must either be the loss of his Mistress, or the wining unto him perpetual re∣nown; wrought such wonders with his sword, as would puzle an∣tiquity to find his paralel, for wheresoever he went he left such tro∣ph••es of his manhood, as made the stoutest spirits of the Pagans to tremble; but multitude overcoming valour, engaging himself too far, his sword being glutted with Pagans blood, and his Arme ore weari∣ed with slaying such multitudes, he was at last encompassed by those Mahumteans, and maugre whatsoever he could do, was by them taken prisoner; with whose loss fell the courage of the Cilicians, so that immediately they turned their backs and fled, and notwithstanding King Ferdinando did all that he could to perswade them to stay, yet his words sound but deaf ears, so that seeing he had but a runing auditory to save himself was forced to run with them for company, bringing sad newes to the City of Adrianople, of his own over-throw and their pre∣sent danger, ••ron after this fatal fight, the whole Country yeilded themselves to the Emperour, saving only Adrianople aforesaid, which he strongly besieged. In this straight King Fer∣dinando sent for succour to Sir John Hawkwood, as the most re∣nowned

person for deeds of Armes then living upon the face of the

[illustration]

Earth, of whose successes and honourable atchievements we shall dis∣course in the Chapter following.

CHAP. X.

The terrible Battle betwixt Sir John Hawkwood. and the Empe∣rour of Fez, which lasted three whole daies, the marriage betwixt Arnaldo and the Princess Mariana.

THe Army of the Cilicians being overthrown by the Emperour of Fez, and King Ferdinando himself straitlily besieged in the Citty of Adrianople, as you heard in the former Chapter? brings not able to hold out long against those mighty Forces of the Mahumetans, he therefore (as we told ye) dispatched a Messenger to Sir John Hawk∣wood, destreing his assistance, in these words.

To the most renowned, and invincible Sir John Hawkwood.

Fames golden Trumpet having proclaimed your matchless deads to this our Country, as the only succourer of distressed Princes, the righ∣ter of wrongs, and ovetthrower of unjust oppression; this noble Character of your worth hath invited me to desire your aid against the Emperour of Fez, who hath unjustly invaded my Country with barbarous cruelty, killing and destroying all wheresoever he comes, threatning to extirpate the very name of Christianity out of my land, defer not therefore with all speed to hasten to my releif, whereby you shall not only win eternal renown, but also shall receive in reward of such high deservings, whatsoever you will desire, even to the half of my kingdom.

K. Ferdinando.

No sooner had Sir John Hawkwood received this Letter, but pricked on with desire of honour in so just a quarrel, he assembled all his For∣ces together, being about twenty thousand brave English spirits, each of such skill as able to command an Army; to whom he made this following Oration.

Kind Souldiers, and fellow Country men, my comparions in Arms, and sharers with me in all dangers, and sucesses; who by your vali∣ant acts have eternized your names, and made your fame to sound as far as Phebus darts forth his golden rayes, to you I speak who have been so often triumphant as if victory were chained to your swords, and good fuccess hereditary to ye, whose hearts are so invincible as have found no Enemy unconquerable, no Fort uns••aleable, no Way unpassable; who know not what it into be conquered, nor to turn your back to the face of an Enemy. Now doth honour once more summon you to the exercise of your Arms in rescuing a Christian King from the fury of the bloody followers of Makomee. who is ready to be delivered into their hands, if nor timely releived by your un∣conquerable manhood; the King of Cilicia craves our assistance a∣gainst the Mahaumetan Emperour of Fez, who hath burnt his Towns, razed his Citties, and slain his subjects; what though his men be many

the greater shall be the honour in conquering them, remember it is I that lead ye, who will never leave ye, but either bring ye off with fortunate success, or ••oose my life in the enconnter.

This his Oration wrought such effects in his souliers, that they all vowed to live and dye with him, and to follow him wheresoever he commanded them, whereupon returning the Messenger back again to King Ferdinando, that he would not fall to be with him as soon as possibly he could, he made all things ready for his Journey, and by spéedy marches soon came to the confines of Cilicia, whether no sooner being come, but he sent King Ferdinando special notice thereof, en∣couraging him to a resclute defiance of those Barbarous 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and promising to give him a speedy supply of 〈…〉〈…〉 ••spatch∣eth a Message to the Emperour, the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 whereof was as foloweth.

That he desired him to desist from ••••ther prosecution of any out∣rage against the Cilicians, and to restore again to King Ferdinando those Places and Persons which he had taken, and then presently to depart the Land or to exspect what a just cause and a sharp sword could do against him. But so little wrought this message on the insulting foe, that he laughed both it and the messenger to scorn, asking him if his Master were well in his wits, and whether be had not need of a purge of Hellebore, to think with his small handful of men, to command the most puissant Monarch of the whole earth? but if be would be so fool: hardy as to offer to fight with him, he should be encounter'd with a part of his Army, whilst the rest should stand still, and look on to be∣held his overthrow.

These words of the Emperour being told in the English Camp, so exasperated the souldiers, that they breathedforth nothing but blood and revenge; if likewise set an edge on their Generals valour, to be thus disdainfully braved, although he cover'd it with more moderateness then the rash souldiers, who would incontinently have marched against him, but the noble Hawkwood, though he knew the conrage of his souldiers to be invincible, yet would not rashly engage them in that fight, on the success whereof depended either the gaining of a King, or the irreparable loss of the whole Kingdom; he therefore smother'd his resolutions for the present, till time should give him a fitter opportuni∣ty to declare them, in the mean time be made provision against that fa∣tal day, not only refreshing his souldiers, & supplying his Ammunition,

but alto fortifying places that might be a safe retreat unto him if his army should be over powred by the Emperours more numerous forces

Having thus prov••ded all things ready, he marcheth with his Army against the Enemy, who notwithstanding all his brags, raiseth his siege, to oppose him with his whole Army; whereupon King Ferdi∣nando came out of the City, and with his small remainder of souldiers joyned with the English, the noble and adventurous Merchant Taylor Sir John Hawkwood entertained him very courteously, but now was no such time for complement as action, both Armies being near to each other, therefore riding unto the head of his Camy, he spake to them in these encouraging specehes.

Brave sons of Mars, whose valour the world admires and dreads, now is the time come which ye so heartily desired, to avenge your selves on this miscreant Emperour for those contumelious speeches he uttered against us, and to make him know the diffe∣rence betwixt saying and doing. Now must be tryed which wil cut deepest of the Christians swords, or the Sarazens cymiters, I need not to tell ye the justness of our cause, and that victory is the attendant on valour, those are only spurs to prick forward the du I, and to sharpen the edge of the cowards courage, I know it is enough for you only to be shown the face of your Foe, which being once done all words whatsoever is rather impediments to ye then helps.

Nor was the Emperour wanting on the other side to the encoura∣ging of his soudiers, who ••iding up to the head of his Army, spake to them in these words.

This is the day renowned Captains and valiant souldiers, that by your manhood must put a period to this war, & take a full revenge for the loss of my son Amuraths, ye have now only this handful of men to conquer, whose desperate condition hath enforced them to adventure their whole fortunes at one blow and like a dying candle to give one blaze more of valour before their extinguishment; their runing looks do promise us an assured victory, and an add••tion of honour to your unconquerable armes, march on therefore as to a surprize rather then fight, and let not one of them escape, but feel the fury of your revengeful swords.

These words being no sooner ended but the battel joyned, the Christians Cross against the Mahumetans slag, but never was Eng∣lish

Mastiff and Irish Grey-hound more equally matched, the Christi∣ans makeing that good by their valour, which the Mahumetans had in their number Now be an death to appear in his greatest horrour, each place being strewed with the carcasses of slaugh, tered per••ons; here

[illustration]

lay one with a stream of bledd issuing from his new received wound, in another place a trunck without a head, here armes and legs, whom a sharp sword had forced to take a sad farewel from their bodies; there was another who would fain habe run away, but that his legs were entangled in his own guts, in such a diversity of manner death drest out his diet, as if he intended to invite the King of Beasts and Birds to feed on the ban ••uet. The renowned Hawkwood was evermore amongst the thickest of his Enemies, dealing such blows with his sword, and giving so many Mahumetans their deaths, as if he intended to over∣••harge Charons boat in ferrying them over the Stygian river; nor

were the other English Captains wanting in their duties, but by their valours sent thousands of Mahumetan souls to inhabit in Plutoe's fiery Regions, yet still those Infidels held out with great obstina••y, not shrinking for any danger, although they were ready to be carried a∣way in streams of their own blood. In this manner continnued they fighting, until night with his sable manile had darknes the Hemis∣pheere, and them more for want of light then coura ••e, they retreated, the Christians to the C••ty, and the Mahumetans to their Camp.

The Empero••rsceing so many of his soldiers to have fallen that day by the hards of the Christians, would in revenge thereof, that night have paut Arnaldo to death, whom he had left behind in his Tent under a strong gua••d; but his Captaias doubting the success of the Battel and fearing a ret••••tation persauded him to the contrary, Next morning no sooner had Aurora wher••o in the day, but both Armies were again dra•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the field, and the signal being given, fell on a∣gain a fresh to their work of mankinds destruction: the thundring drums beat ala•• ums of death, & the shril Trumpets sounded forth many thousands that day their knel, horrour, death & destruction surrounded the Mahumetans on every sid; yet stil their fresh number made more work for the Christians valour. The noble Hawkwood whom no danger whatsoever could daunt or make afraid, being mounted on a milk whilte Barbary stred, nimbly pranced amongst his Troops, en∣courging the valiant, and checking the slow: and then charging into the thickest rankes of his Enemies, taught his soldiers by his example the way how to conquer. The E••perour on the other side did all that he could to uphold his soldiers fainting courages, using threat∣nings and commendations according as he saw occasion, so that the fight continued sharp on both sides till night again parted their fury, when they both retreated, the one into the City, and the other to his Camp.

Yet not withstanding this great effusion of blood, the next morn∣ing ere Phaebus appeared in that Horrizon, they fell to it again as fresh as it they intended before they had done to glut the jaws of death. But Sir John Hawkwood intending to make short worke of it, pressed so hard upon that side where the Emperour was in person, that at length he took him prisoner. Then might yeu behold a sudden change in his ar∣my some runing this way, some that, and others therowing down their

armes and craving mercy, King Fardinando who had behaved himself very gallantly ••uring all the fight, now seeing the victory apparently on their sid; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 down on his knees in the place where he stood, giving thanks to Almighty God for the same; then enquiring of the priso∣r••rs sor the Prince Arnaldo, and having received intelligence from them he speedily hastea••th unto him; great was the joy received at the sight of each other, as those whose desperate conditions had given themselves over for lost, great Sir said the Prince, that my eyes do behold you again in safety, how infinitely am I hound unto the Gods: and as you have made my eyes happy thereby, so let my ears be blest with the news of the Princess Marianas s••aety, the King briefly certy∣fying him that she was well, as also giving him a short narrative of the present affai••s, they loth hasted to cong••atulate atula••••e with Sir John Hawk∣wood, who was very busie in entertaining of his royal prisoner, whom he used so curteously, and with such respect, that the Emperour could n••t but confess that he had met with a noble Enemy.

The Prince Arnaldo had no s••oner fixed his eyes on Sir John Hawkwood, but he thou••▪ he saw in him the v••r••••icture of true mag∣naminity, so that he though: himself happy by a••guainted prisoner, thereby to become 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with so renowned a Champion, and prized his liberty at a far higher rate for being effected by so gallant a person. Dear Sir (said be) to whom I owe whatsoever I am at present, be pleased to accept of this mite of acknowledgment, till such time as Fortune shol•• enable me to make you more ample satisfaction. Re∣nowned Prince (replyed the generons Hawkwood) to whom all ser∣vice is but duty, and for whom whatsoever is affected comes far short of your deserts; I must only attribute it to your goodness, to put such high acknowl••dgements upon my low perform ances, but rest assured whatsoever I am is wholly and soley at your command.

A••er ••ome ••their stort discourse passed betwixt the King and the Em∣perour, the worlds bright eye Hyperion beginning now to draw to∣wards his Western home, they prepared to return to the City of Adri∣anople, the soldiers laden with spoiles, and throng'd with prisoners, was met by the women and children of the City, (for there was scearce a man lest therein who was not either killed in the former battel, or now under service with King Fardinando) with songs of Triamph, and other like rejoycings: the way where Sir John Hawk∣wood

passed was strowed with roses and green herbs, every one ex∣tolling his Fame to the skies, as the most renowned Hero of that Age.

The Princess Mariana, who during these three dayes had been at her supplications for the prosperous success of the Christians army re∣fusing to eat one bit of bread all that time; receiving now the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 tydings of the Emperours overthrow, and the Princ. Arnaldo's re∣leasement, she was so far transported with an••ver measure of joy, as for the present bereft her of the use of reason; for regardless of what attire she was in, and forgeting to refresh her body, which was now enfeebled for want of sustenance, net staying for a coach or other at∣tendants, she hastily ran with the foremost to meet them. The Prince Arnaldo who thought each minute a year till he hap a sight of his de∣vinest Mistress, now seeing her coming, alighted from his horse, and as hastily ran for to imbrace her; both pa••ties remaining ••peechless for a time, being so overjoyed at each others sight, that their tongues wanted utterance to express it: but after some little time of pause, Ar∣naldo break silence, and thus speak to her.

I think my self happy most excellent Princes, that the Fates have so far prolonged my life, as once again to behold those Love-darting eyes of thine, and to enjoy again your most delightful Company, the deprivation whereof, was the greatest torment the Emperour could inflict upon me; without which, the most habitable place is but a de∣sart, and all pleasure but vexation, and now what can I say more, but to desire that Hymens torch may burn clear at our wedding, and that the Sun of our happiness may not come to be Eclipsed again, by any disastruous accident whatsoever.

Renowned Prince, replyed the love sick Mariana, that the Fates have restored us thus again to each other, how much are we bound to Providence and next to that the renowned English General, of whose worth to speak, were to show the light of the, Sun by a candle, Now I hope will a serene sky of comfort succeed those clouds of trou∣ble, and our joy be the greater, and more refined, for having passed through these fires of grief and tribulation.

Then hand in hand paced they into the City, whether be∣ing come, no cost was spared for the entertainment of the English, who were welcomed in such a sort with feastings and triumphs, that

my p••n wants art so describe the same. And now King Ferdinando pre∣pareth a third time for the solemnization of his Daughters Nuptials, ho••in the Fates would be more propi••ious to him, then to put ano∣ther Remora to the hindrance of the mariage. The Lords and Knights by the Kings appointment proclaimed a solemn Justs to b•• triumphs at the ••ame, which should en••ure for the space of three dayes, of which the renowned Hawkwood was chosen cheif Champian The appointed day being come, the Bride and Bridg••oo••n were sal••••ed earely that morning with divers sorts of ra••e and excellent 〈◊〉〈◊〉;

[illustration]

the streets were garnished with costly pageants, and the windows hung ••••chly with cloaths of Arras, all the way that the Bride and Bridgroom were to pais to Church, was strewed with roses, and other oderiferous flowers, the Bells in every steeple proclaimed the peoples joy, and mi••th abcunded in every place. The King to honour the Feast the more, gave free liberty to the Emperour to walk at his pleasure, after ded on by several of his own Lords that were prisoners. Great was the concourse of people from all Lands at this Royal Solemnity,

so that it was a wonder to behold how in so short a space, so many Gal∣lants should be assembled together from so divers parte.

And now the time of the day gave them notice to prepa••e them rea∣dy to go to Church; the Bridegroom was led by tro Earls daughters, being apparaled in a suit of flame c••loured Tassaty, to signifie that he burnt in the flames of Love, the Princess Mariana was conductor by the famous Sir John Hawkwood on the one hand, and a Duke or Candy on the other; her apparel was a rich Gown of sky-sclo••r ••ab∣ble, to signifie that her mince was as free from vice, as a clear sky is from clouds, The Priest having joyned them together in Hymens band••, they returned again to y^e Pallace, where was provided for them a most sumptuous dinner, wherein no cest nor art was spared, to set it forth in the best manner. The afternoon was spent in Musick and dancing. till such time as Morpheus summoned them to sleep.

Next morning the Turnament began, a fair large place being rail∣ed in for that purpose, wherein a stage was setup for the King and the Lords to behold the same, the first that entred the list was Sir John Hawkwood, mounted on a cole black stee••, his armour of the same co∣lour, denoting thereby a black day to all those that durst 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him; he behaved himself with so much gallantry thathe foiled that day above threescore Knights, to his high honour and commendations. The next day his Lievetenant General (being also a Merchant Taylor) entered the lists, mounted on a Bay horse, his armour was red, having upon his Burgonet a plume of ••ed seathers: he likewise behaved himself with so much valour and manhood, that he overcame above fifty Knights that day. On the third day ••an many approved Knights against each other, wherein the English O••ficers behaved them ••••ives so gallantly, that they wan the prize away from all others, The King in reward of such high deserts, conferred on many of them the honour of Knighthood, & made Sir J. Hawkwood one of the principal ••eers of his Kingdom, with a large annual stipend to maintain his stare and dig∣nity. The Private souldiers felt likewise-largely of his ••ounty, so that every one commended the nobleness of King Ferdinando's mind, and thought their blood well spent where they sound such royal gra∣titude, all parties being thus well plea••ed, we wil leave, them for time and return to discourse of Ralph and William, whom we left at their Trades in London.

CHAP. XI.

The number of servants, and noble House 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by Ralph, how he encounted with Iurnbul the great Scotish Cham••ion, and how he built Blackwel-hall, and give it to the City of London.

YOu may remember the last time we speak of Ralph, we left him married so his Masters daugh••••r, the fai•• Arabella: since which time his Father in law bring, left him is whole estate, his customers also en••easing very much, he was forced to take more Pre••••••ces, and to entertain a number of journey men, by whom he was waited on to Church as a petty Prince, for he had fi••ty prentices, and threescore and ten journey-men, so that he spent an Ox a wéek in his house, and a hogshead of beer everyday. His hosptallity was so great, that there was more meat given away each day at his door, then many ••ich peo∣ple spend in their houses. He was likewise partner in divers ships at sea, which traded for Merchandize into several Count••ies, by which means in short space he attained to a very bast estate.

It happened at that time that the King of Scotland invaded Eng∣land in hostile manner, killing, burning, and destroying, all whereso∣ever he came. He brought with him a great Gyant or Champion, called Turnbull, for that in his youth he had killed a fierce wild Bull, bred in the Forest of Caledonia, which had destroyed much people: the same of this Champion made call people wheresoever he came to run away for dread of him, for he was of such strength that he would encounter with ten men at once, and to his strength was added such a cruelness of nature, that he spared none which fell into his hands; by aid of whom the Scots made such havock in the North parts of England as turned all places there into ruine and desolation.

To repress these outrages King Edward desired aid of the City of London, where upon a Common Council was call'd, whereat Mr. Blackwel (for so was Ralphs sirname) was present; where it was

propounded to each man what he would do for service of the King. Mr. Blackwel, whose heart was as loyal as his purse was large, to shew a fair copy for the others to write after, subscribed to go himself in p••rson, and to carry with him a ful band, whom he would maintain at his own charge, this his generous subscription, drew on others to contribute largely▪ ••o that there was raised amongst them, enough to furnish a formidable Army.

The necessities of the Kingdomes affaires requiring hast, Mr. Ralph Blackwell was no soeuer come home, but he told his journy men and prent••••s what he had done, asking them if they would be willing to go along with him to which they alltea••ily condiscended, each striving who should exoress himself most forward for the service: which heir willing mind he thankfully accep••ed of, promising if any of them were wound∣ed or maimed in the service, they should be so carefully provided for after their return, as should give them no cause to repent of their un∣dertakings. Next he bought them Muskets, Pikes, Drums, and Colours, habiting them all in a like livory of whi••e, that they might be differenced from all others, chusing the most skilful of them to be Officers under him, as Livetenant, Ensigne Serjants and Corpo∣rals &c. This done he drew them each day before their departure out into the fleld, to exercise them, and make them fit for the day of ba••tel.

And now the time came that the King set forwa••d with his A••my, when he found Captain Ralph ready & prepared to go along with him; his men so well discipline'd and accoutred, that the King gave him the title of the Noble Captain, his band had also given to it the name of the Royal Band, whom the King so much honored, that he made them the second Company in his own Regiment; all things being thus ready, with a spredy march they hasted against the Scots who were than ha∣razing with fire and sword in the Bishoprick of Durham, to whom the King sent this following message.

That he wondered his Brother of Scotland without any cause shown should so unjustly invade his kingdome; and exercise such cruelty upon the English, as would make Pagans blush to own such actions; that therefore he required satisfaction of him for all those injuries done, or he would right himself the best he could with his sword.

To this the Scottish King returned answer, that the King of England has

made war against the French King, his Allie and friend, and hath done him much mischeif in his Country; that in revenge of those in∣juries, he had drawn his sword against the English, and was resolved not to sheath it up again, till he had taken a ful revenge on them, for those damages they had done to the French.

The King having received this answer, f••aught with anger and 〈◊〉〈◊〉, marcheth up within fight of their Army, but the Scots had 〈◊〉〈◊〉 possessed themselves of so 〈…〉〈…〉, that there was no 〈…〉〈…〉 without eminent danger, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the King caused his 〈…〉〈…〉 deep 〈…〉〈…〉 about them, to keep them from forraging, that for want of victuals, h•• might at last compel them 〈…〉〈…〉.

Seven days together did the Armie his face one another, when at last out comes a challenge from Sir ••urnbu•• the Scotish Champi∣on, which containe•• these wer••s.

Think not proud English that by our lying thus still, we are not a∣ble, or afraid to fight with you; no, this is bu•• only to give you time 〈◊〉〈◊〉 your long march, to refresh your selves, that when the time comes, you may be the better able to encounter with us, least when you are beaten i•• might be your excuse to say your Army was o••e wearied, but if in the mean space there be any one amongst you that dares to fight with me hand to hand, to show the Armies some little spor••, he shall find me ready to answer him to morrow morning by eight of the clock in the meadow, which lyeth on the left side of our Camp, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 will attend his arrival with much zeal and impatiency.

Turnbul.

This Challenge being read in the English Army, the noble Captain 〈…〉〈…〉 King that he might accept thereof, to which the King 〈…〉〈…〉, whereupon by the same Messenger, he returned 〈…〉〈…〉.

I received your challenge which promises much in the contents, what ever will be performed in the Chapter, according to your 〈◊〉〈◊〉, you shall be answered at the time and place appointed; where if you perform with your sword what your pen hath promised, you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 add to your renown, if not you will onely make mirth to the English▪ and become the Trophee of

R. Blackwel.

Next morning at the time appointed both Champions met in the meaddow, each so fully resolved, as valuing life less then victory. Sir Turnbul was mounted on a cole black steed, his Armour and Capa∣ri••ons answerable thereto, having 〈…〉〈…〉 forth: on the o∣ther side Captain Ralph was clean 〈…〉〈…〉 was milk white, his armour representing nakedness, artificially contrived, that to the beholders 〈…〉〈…〉 to be a naked man, his device was a white Dove fully fledged, with these words, plum'd for victory, at the Trumpets sound they ••un against each other, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 so Fircely, that their Lances flew in a thousand prices, then dismounting and drawing their swords being on the ground with an 〈◊〉〈◊〉 courage

[illustration]

they assailed each other, laying on so thick and fast, as if their stock of valour would never be spent; what ever hath been fal••ed of old Heroes, and their incomperable manhood, came far short of this

combate, valour and skill being so mixed in either, that never were two Cocks of the Game more equally matched: what Sir Turnbul exceed▪ din strength, the othe•• poised, him in nimbleness, whereby he 〈…〉〈…〉 Sir Turnbuls blows, that at last his arm began to falle with weariness, which Captain Ralph perceiving, with fresh courage re∣doubles his stroaks, till at length he brought his adversary to lye at his m••re••. The Scots seeing their Champion overcome in whom 〈…〉〈…〉 extraordinary confidence, ••allied out with a pa••ty to have 〈◊〉〈◊〉 prize•• Captain Blackwel; but King Edward who was watch∣ful upon all such advantages, and had before provided for whatsoever should happen was there presently to his rescue; so that this single en∣counter or••w••••n at last a general engagement betwixt both the armies; thou was 〈◊〉〈◊〉, hacking, and slashing on every side, St. Georges B••nner agai••st St. Andrews ••ross, men were mowed down by ••he ••ithe of Death, as ••••pened ears of Co••n falls before the sickle, and the whole field was made a shambles for humane slaughters, some lay wallowing in their own 〈◊〉〈◊〉, some were cursing, some praying, and others crying 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for mercy. The Englishmen being resolved to purchase victory at what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 soever 〈◊〉〈◊〉 cost them▪ pressed so hard upon the Scots as made them at last to give ground and flee, whom the English p••rsued in a full C••e••r and with incredible slaughter, for the Scots being laden with the plunder of the Country, were thereby much h••••••red in their flight, so that most of them were either killed or taken, the King with some few very hardly recovering Scotland.

King Edward having obtained this considerable victory, as soon as the field was cleared, commanded Captain Blackwel to put a Basenet on his head, for he would Knight him, the Captain desired to be ex∣cused, saying he was neither worthy nor able to take such an estate upon him, b••t the King made him to put it on notwithstanding all ex∣cuses, and then with a sword in both his hands (as the manner then was) he strongly struck him on the neck, and so Kni••hted him, giving him a hundred pound lands a year for this noble atcheivement which he had accomplished.

The victor thus obtained King Edward returned with honour and triumph to London, Sir Ralph Blackwel bringing along with him the Scotish Champion Sir Turnbul as his prisoner, whom the King out of especial favour had bestowed upon him, who was afterwards ransomed

by the Scotish King for five hundred ma••ks of 〈◊〉〈◊〉. The Citizen•• of London received them with great jo••, ••inging of bells, making of honesties, and other devices; such slocking about to beh••ld Sir Turn∣bul, whose same was spread in all parts, as was wonderful to behold.

Sir Ralph was no sooner returned home, and that the King had dis∣missed him with communications and 〈◊〉〈◊〉, but he returned again as••esh to his trade, honours in him not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 manners, well know∣i••g that tra••ing the great prop which uphol•• and supports a king∣dome, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 makes the inhabitants th••reof 〈…〉〈…〉 thereof, for he encreased in his 〈…〉〈…〉 is that 〈…〉〈…〉 of ours

If thou wouldst thrive `th world and wealthy he, Keep thy shop ROBIN, and that wil keep thee.

Not long after 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was a great 〈…〉〈…〉 hom••, called the Go••den Adventure, which had been five years 〈◊〉〈◊〉 trading in the East Indies, and was very rich•••• laden with divers commodities: I 〈…〉〈…〉 Sir Ralph had 〈…〉〈…〉 pa••t, which so advanced his esta••r, tha•••••• was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 chosen to be Sheri•••• of London, in which office he beha••ed himself very 〈◊〉〈◊〉, kept a noble house and executed Justice to al•• men impartially, neither favouring the rich for th••i•• mightiness, nor d••laying the poor because of th•• ••••pove••ty, but to every one dealt with so eve a hand, that it grew to be a proverb, as good goe to empty the Sea with a spoon as to perswade Sir Ralph from doing Justice, to give some instances of his 〈…〉〈…〉, ma•• not be 〈…〉〈…〉 unpleasant to the Reads••. A rich covetous Churle had lost a bag of mony containing one hundred pound, wherefore be caused it to be published by the Cryer, that whosoever had found the same, and wou••d restore it, he should have ten pounds for his pains? It hap••••d an honest poor man found it, who brought it to the Churle, requi∣ring ten pound for his pains as was promised, but this covetuous Carren minding to deceive the poor man, deeply swore there was a hundred and ten pounds, wherfore he would not give him a 〈◊〉〈◊〉: thereupon the poor man had a Warrant for him and brought him be∣fore Sir Ralph Blackwel, where each of them having told his tale, Sir Ralph commanded the mony to be produced, which being done, he

said to the rich Churle, you lost a bag of money with an hundred and ten pounds in it, and this poor man found one which had onely an hundred pounds therein, therefore by your own confession this is not lively to be the bag which you lost, therefore here honest man doe thou take it, and employ it we ••l for the good of thy wife and children, and if thou finde•• a bag with an hundred and ten pounds therein then b••ing it to this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the mean time keep that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 doest. The rich Churle hearing him to decide the business so cryed out that his bag had but an hundred pounds in it, and therfore desired that he might have it: but Sir Ralph told him it was then too late to speak, and so dismissed him without it.

At another time it so hapned that a Tylar being at work upon a house, chanced to slip his hold, and so tumbled down, but by great fortune to him, it was his hap to fall upon another man as he was walking by, whereby he killed the other man: the son of the dead man hereupon brings the Tylar before Sir Ralph Blackwel, desiring Justice against him for the death of his Father: the Tylar pleaded chance medly, and that he did not kill him either wi••tingly or will∣ingly, but nothing would serve the young man but that the Tylar must be sent to prison, no perswasions could prevail, to talk to him of reason was to set a blind man to discern of colours, or a deaf man to judge of musique; nothing could satisfie for the death of his father, but the life of the Tylar. Sir Ralph seeing his obstinacy, that reason could take no place in him, adjudged, that to make him satisfaction, the Tylar should stand in the same place where his father was killed, and the young man (if he would) might go up to the top of the house and tumble down upon him, but this the man refusing to do, the Tylar was discharged.

He used to look very narrowly after the Bakers, that they should not make their bread too light causing one John of Stratford for ma∣king bread lesser then the Assize, to be drawn on a wooden horse which went with wheels, quite through the streets of the City, having a fools hood on his head and loaves of bread about his neck, many o∣ther examples of his Justice might be produced, too long here to re∣••i••e, we shall refer the Reader to the Chronicles of those times, which discourse much of his commendations.

Sir Ralph having passed thorough the year of his Sheriffalty with

honour and credit, he afterwards became one of the Alderm••n of the Cit••, living with great splendour, and 〈…〉〈…〉 both to rich and poor, that his hospitall••••y was taken 〈…〉〈…〉 of all London over, and now growing old in yeers ha••ing a vast estate, and no children to give 〈◊〉〈◊〉 unto, he began to 〈…〉〈…〉 himsel•• how to dispose of part of it for the publick benefit before 〈…〉〈…〉 knowing how often the wills of the dead 〈…〉〈…〉 or not at all performed by their covetuous Executors, h•• there•••••• min••ed to make his own eyes his over••••ers, and his own hands his 〈…〉〈…〉 for the performance of his Legaci••••. No 〈…〉〈…〉 com∣mon market place for the 〈…〉〈…〉 the foundation of a stately Hall, which in three years time with great 〈◊〉〈◊〉

[illustration]

and cost, he fully finished, appointing it to be a weakly market place, for all sorts of Wollen cloath, bread and narrow, brought from all parts of this Realm, there to be sold; to the great benefit both of the

City and strangers. This Hall he freely bestowed upon the City, who for honour 〈…〉〈…〉, gave it the name of Blackwel hall, which it still retaine•••• ••nto 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Sir Ralph having 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to see 〈◊〉〈◊〉 building finished, and put to the use for which he 〈…〉〈…〉 not long after departed this 〈◊〉〈◊〉, having some few years before 〈…〉〈…〉 Arabella, who had been to him a constant, faithful, and loving wife. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 great 〈◊〉〈◊〉 unto the poor, especially those of his own Company, as also several some•• of money to bind p••or children out ••pprent••ces. He was 〈…〉〈…〉 great 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by the Company •• Merchant Taylors, whom hee truste 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Estate he le••t behind him, to be 〈…〉〈…〉 aforesaid; who e••ected upon his Grave a most magnificent Monument, which time (the devourer of all things) hath since consumed, upon which was engraven this Ep••••aph,

Here lyes the honour of his trade and name, Brave Sir Ralph Blackwel, of deserved Fame; Whose acts proclaim`d his worth both near and far, And did renown his name in Peace and War.

Where we will leave him resting in his Grave in peace, and return to speak of William, whom we left newly married to his Masters maid, the witty fair Misteres Dorothy.

CHAP. XII.

How William slew a dreadful 〈…〉〈…〉 built 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Hospital, wherein he 〈…〉〈…〉, and was after his Death Canonized for a Saint.

VVIliam having entered into mar••iage 〈◊〉〈◊〉, begun to ••o side•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 himself that there was more belonged to w••d, then four 〈…〉〈…〉 whereas before he wanted a wise, he 〈…〉〈…〉 thing else, there was a Bed to 〈…〉〈…〉 let, B••ankets, C••••tains, Table cloaths, ••a••kins, Chairs, Steel••s, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Table, Brass, Pewter, Andirons. Fire-shovel, 〈…〉〈…〉, Spits, 〈…〉〈…〉, Wash-boul, Hand-boul, ••ubs, Cupboard, Candle∣sticks, W••rmin-pan, Frying-pan, Gri••••ion, Chasting-d••sh, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 iron, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Skelets, Powdring-tub, Trayes, Flee-fork, Drinking-pots, and so many several implements besides, as nigh 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his purse, of all his silver; ho•• best 〈…〉〈…〉 having good customers, and following his work, he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 recruited his stock.

Now in a short space he grew to be so famous for his excellency ••a workmanship, that he was taken notice of at Cou••t, and preferred to be Taylor to Queen Phillippa King Edwards wife, by which means he gained the custome of the most Eminent Ladies at Court, for as it is commonly seen, for the Lords to be of the Kings religion, so it is as usual for the Ladies in their cloaths to follow the Queens fashion. By making to those great Persons he soon attained to a great Estate, but as his wealth encreased so did his charge, for Dorothy was very fruit∣ful, bringing him almost every year a child; besides he kept thirty journey-men, and had twenty prentices, whom he maintained all in one livory, so that he came to be of great esteem in the place where be lived, passing through all the Offices in the Parish, as Scavenger, Headbrough, Constable, Overseer for the Poor, and Church-warden, and not long after his abilities being more throughly taken notice of, he was chosen one of the common Councel of the City, in all which Offices, he behaved himself with much prudence and understanding,

〈◊〉〈◊〉 after it came to pass that William being at Cou••t, with 〈…〉〈…〉 he had to do for the Queen, that there came thither a 〈…〉〈…〉 King of Fra••ce, who proclaimed a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hunting 〈…〉〈…〉 the Province of Picardy, which had destroyed 〈…〉〈…〉, and turned that fruitful Country into a bar••en wilce••∣ne, the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 all the••e round about being u••••nhabited for dread of that 〈…〉〈…〉, This 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hunting was proclaimed in the Cou••ts of all the 〈…〉〈…〉 whereupon a number of acted spi∣••••t: whose comages promy••ed them on to valerous enterprizes, pre∣pared th••m••elves to go. The news o•• this noble adventure, set such an edge on Williams valor, that he likewise resolved to make one in that gallant assembly, and coming home, imparted his resolutions unto his 〈◊〉〈◊〉, which made the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to ti••••kle down her chéeks, and her heart 〈…〉〈…〉.

Dear Husband (said she hath the desire of same; accompanied with so eminent danger more 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to call you hence away, then my un∣seigned affection, and the Paternal care of your sweet Babies, to pre∣vail with you to stay at hom••; were we not so tyed together in Hy∣mens Bands, that nothing but death should unloose that Gordian Knot, O why then should Neptunes waves separate us asunder? con∣sider with your self he danger of the ••ourney, the more danger in the enterprize in which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of us are concer••ed; as in a Ship of Mer∣chandize wherein are many partner••, that being sunk or taken, the loss redounds unto them al•• your Children claim a part in it, I claim a part, 'tis not your self alone you adventure, let younger spi∣rit follow Mars hi•• Train, age soon enough will hasten on grim death you need not to go meet him thus half way; and by thrusting your self into need ess dangers force Atropos to cut your thread of life, which otherwise might be spun out unto a longer date.

My second self (replyed William) whose Love I prize far more then Indian Gold or all the treasures wherewith America is inriched with∣all; seek not for to disswade, my mind from going when fame and ho∣nour b••th do call me forth; you say there is danger in the enterprize the greater is the honour in the conquest; he that fears to have his hands stung by the Bees, shall never sweeten his lips with their honey Fames breath co••••s pains and sweat to purchase it, and the path that leads to Honour is rugged, and full of intricate Meanders. Yet fear

not dearest wife, whom the Gods love, they will preserve, and expect me home again with fresh Lawrels interwoven with those which I purchased before I was married unto thee.

Dorothy séeing him so resolved to go, and knowing the Iourney to be attended with Honor left off any fu••th disswading him, and like an obedient wi••e, provided all things ready that was necessary for him to carry in the journey; so at the prefi••••d time he set ••or ••aids, attend∣ed only with one s••••vant, leaving the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••ing of his Trade 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his absence to his eldest 〈◊〉〈◊〉 man, and the guidance of his house to his 〈…〉〈…〉 many of the English ••••bility and G••ntly went a∣••••ng with 〈◊〉〈◊〉, an•• h••ving a 〈…〉〈…〉 wind, and a 〈…〉〈…〉 Sea, th••y quickly arrived at Paris the chief City of France, which place they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of 〈…〉〈…〉 Countries, who were come to try their manhood against the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 B••••r. The King of France entertained 〈…〉〈…〉 Foyall••, and that morning they appointed to set forwards to Picardy, assembling them altogether, he made to them this follow∣ing Or••tion.

Brave Sons of Mars whom thirst of glories prize hath invited over into this my Country, I think me Court much honoured in your No∣ble Companies, each of you ••ppearing li••e unto Meleager who slew the wild Bear, that the incensed Diana sent amongst the Grecians for the neglect ••f her ••acrifices, your looks do promise me an assured victory over that our Countryes foe, which unto whose victorious Arm; it shall happen, shall be rewarded with a Golden Spear, and an annual pension according unto his degree and dignity.

These words being uttered the Company set forwards, being about thrée hundred in number, habited all in grée•• like ••orresters, with swords by their 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and Boar-spears in their han••s, being come within view of the place, and each man ordered according to his stand, they let loose a brace of lusty Beagles, who soon rowz••d the Boar out of his Den then began every man to handle his Weapons, and with a nimble eye to catch all advantages that might be taken; The first that struk at him was a S••••ni•• Knight named Don A••onzo, who brake his Spear but won ded him n••t, for his skin was sca••ely pene∣trable being as hard as a Bu••s hide ••hen it is tanned. The next that encountced with him, was one Mounsier De Bray a French man, who with great fury ran at him with his Buze-spear, bu••••issing his blow,

tumble•• quite over him, whereupon the Boar turned back: so that 〈…〉〈…〉, had 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not been reseued by several Knights that 〈…〉〈…〉, wh••ch made the Boar to leave him, and take 〈…〉〈…〉 William, who with true English for∣•••• 〈…〉〈…〉 him, and having broken his Spear at his first 〈…〉〈…〉 sword, wherewith he wounded 〈…〉〈…〉 hast away, no ••it 〈…〉〈…〉 that bring in his toll Ca••éere the••e 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in his way ••••aelsh Gent••••man named Shon ap Rice, ap Grissi••h, ap Howel, ap David, ap Morgan, ap Cadwalladar, who being 〈…〉〈…〉 back 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him 〈…〉〈…〉 and by, that the Boar 〈…〉〈…〉 Gentleman away calls Back, who bring so unexpected•••• surprized, and mon••ted thus on a sudden, 〈…〉〈…〉, and 〈…〉〈…〉 H••llow that 〈…〉〈…〉 Boar thu•• 〈…〉〈…〉 Italian Brothers, Sign or Francesco, and Si••••nior 〈◊〉〈◊〉, he let go his hol••, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his self 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him. 〈…〉〈…〉 Brothers wi••h a lust••-co••∣••age set upon the Boar 〈…〉〈…〉, that he turned 〈…〉〈…〉. The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Gentleman had by 〈…〉〈…〉 himself and gotten up again u••on his feet, but see∣•••• the Boar 〈…〉〈…〉 Cuds plutt••r-a-nails (quoth 〈◊〉〈◊〉) 〈…〉〈…〉 in her that her can run at none but me. Whereupon to 〈…〉〈…〉 Boar seeing him to fly, 〈…〉〈…〉 and tear the ••ol of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, s•• that Sir Taffy judged 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his last da•• was come, as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in his mi••d, eraect•••• tum∣•••• Jew neve•• to ab••de ••wines slesh again, But William our valiant 〈…〉〈…〉 soon 〈…〉〈…〉 of his f••ar, who 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wi••ged hast h•• 〈…〉〈…〉 Sir Taffy, and 〈…〉〈…〉 with 〈…〉〈…〉 ••who came to him with open mouth as if he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 deveur 〈…〉〈…〉 mor••••l he thrust his sw••rd with all his might dew•• his 〈◊〉〈◊〉, so that he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his hear•• 〈…〉〈…〉, which made him to ••all down 〈…〉〈…〉 dead. When Sir Taffy who was upon the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, saw the 〈…〉〈…〉, he quickly hasted down, and drawing out his kéen 〈…〉〈…〉, (which was never 〈◊〉〈◊〉 so any mans hurt before, he 〈◊〉〈◊〉, with might and main upon the Boar. William desired him to

hold telling him that the Boat was already dea••, no matter for that (quoth Taffy) but who can tell whether he may live again, and there∣fore to make sure work he never left till he had backt of the Boars two Fore-legs, and then setting his Monmouth cap aside, he said, now let her see whether her can run after her again. The Company by this time were come in and laughed heartily at Sir Taffies valor, and high∣ly applauding Williams fortunate success, each of them yellding the palm of victory to him and ascribing the honor thereof alone to his victorious arm.

Great was the wonderment of the people at the vast proporsion of this Boar, which upon measure they found to be nine foot and a half in length, from his snout to his Tayl, and five foot and two inches in height his eyes were as big as Saucers, and his tusks of a spans length as sharp as Spanish néedles. The King of France in reward of this vallant service, conferied on William the Honor of Knighthood, in the same place where he had killed the Boar, and with his own hands gave him a Golden Spear, the prize of his Conquest. Then cut they off the Boars head, and fixing it on the Truncheon of a Spear, it was carried in tryumph before them all the way in their return to Paris, whether being come they were welcomed in most Royal manner, with ringing of Bells, Feastings Pageants, and other costly devices; the people from all quarters flocking about to behold William, who had delivered their Country, from their much feared enemy, the destroy∣ing Boar.

Sir William having tarried some few dayes at Paris, growing quickly weary of Court delights, and longing to behold his Native Country again, he took his solemn leave of the King of France, and embarking with the rest of the English in a gallant Ship, they cut the briney face of Neptune, and in few daies arrived in the delightful soil of England, at the town of Dover, where he made no tarriance, but taking Horse, never stayed till he came to his beloved Dorothy, who entertained him with these loving expressions.

Thrice welcome home my dearest Husband, my lifes chief joy, and hearts desired treasure, without whose company my life is to me irk∣some and uncomfortable, and enjoying which all things seem plea∣sant and delectable. For ever blessed be the immortal powers which kept thee safe throughout thy Journey, and crowned thy endeavours

with fortunate success; now let thy mind be fixt to stay at home, banish all thoughts of leaving me again; less danger wilt thou find in the imbraces of a loving wise, then in ••he encounters with a Savage Boar.

Seal then a promise to me with a kiss The last of thy adventure▪ shall be this.

My chiefest joy and hearts delight (replyed Sir William) who can withstand the force of this thy Oratory, especially being endeared with a kiss from thy sugred lips, rest assured that thy Company is to me the greatest delights that I possess in his life, and from which nothing but the eminent danger of my Native Country shall per∣swade me any more to arms, rest then thy self contented my dearest Dorothy.

Nothing but Death our company shall sover Thine I am now, and will be so for ever.

According to this loving agreement, Sir William fell freshly again close to his Trade, continued his old customers, gained every day more new ones, so that he increased in his estate exceedingly? He still main∣tained the same number of Journey-men that he did before, added to the number of his Prentices, and kept such a bountiful house, that his fame rang all over London, none being so much spoken off as Sir William Elsing (for so was his sirname) Thus did he spend his dayes In much joy, his wife loving, his servants singing, and his estate thri∣ving; But what condition in this world is long permament, how soon ••it the pleasures of this life? being like to flowers flourishing in the morning, and withered in the Evening: For not long after it plea∣sed God to send agrievous Pestilence and mortality quite thorough London, which swept away many thousands; amongst others, Sir William Lady, his Children, and all his Servants, leaving himself alone of his numerous family: so that beeing brought now into a dis∣consolate condition, he uttered to himself this dolorous complaint.

Oye immortal powers, said he, why ha••e ye laid this heavy pu∣nishment upon me? O why was I born unto this day, to be so sud∣denly

deprived of that sweet society which should make life comfor∣table unto me? Oh how vain is whatsoever we hear do possess, no∣thing certain but uncertainty, Ounconstant world, unstable fortune mutable prosperity: with how many changes do we turn upon the binges of our uncertain Fate, to day flourishing full of friend and acquaintance, tomorrow disconsolate, left alone, and deprived of all.

In this manner complained the woful Knight, filling each corner of the house with his sad lamentations, at last he resolved with him∣self, to bid adien to the worlds vanities, and to spe••d the res••oue of his dayes in a religious course of life; according to this Godly pur∣pose, no sooner was the City free from infection, but he began to put his resolutions into performance, and at the North end of Gay-spur∣lane, in the parish of Alderman-bury, where formerly was a ruined house of Nuns, he purchased the same, and built thereon an hospitall for the number of a hundred poor blind people, which for a long time after was called Elsings spitle, and is now the same that is called Sion Colledge, at the end of this hospital he built a Cell, wherein he became an Anchorite, living therein till the day of his death, which hapned on the twenty third day of May, in the year of our Lord 1340. After his death he was canoni••ed for a Saint, and the day whereon he dyed for a long time after celebrated by the Company of Merchant Taylors, as the twenty fift of October is by the Com∣pany of Cord-wayners or Shoomakers in the honor of St. Crispin and Crispianus, but now through the continuance of long time the ce∣lebration of this twenty third of May is discontinued.

CHAP. XIII.

How Sir John Hawkwood in releif of the Citizens of Florence, encountred with a Sagitary Hun and overcame him, how he killed a Dragon and afterwards dyed in great love and honour in the City of Florence.

COme we next to speak of the renowned Merchant Taylor, Sir. John Hawkwood whom we left in the Court of Pardinando King of Cilicia, of whose praise sufficiently to speak, would wear a pen of steel to the stumps, and tire the hand of the most industrious writer, long had he not been there after the marriage of the Prince Arrialdo with the Lady Mariana, (as you have heard) but he re∣ceived Letters out of Italy from the State of Florence, imploring his assistance against the Huns, a barbarous people, who had inva∣ded their Province, having to their Leader a certain Saggitary, who was half man and half horse, by whose invincible strength, and swift∣ness of body they had over run all the Country, and had then laid siedge to the cheif City of Florence it self. The Letters contained these words

Most renowned Knight.

Having had experience of your eminent valour, of which each Country in the world rihgs with the fame thereof, and knowing the nobleness of your mind, ever ready to assist those that are in di∣stress, this spoke aloud unto us to desire your aid against a merciless enemy, who with savage cruelty hath harazed our Country, being as monstrous in his proportion as in his actions, make haste great Prince unto our rescue, then which no action can be attended with more honour, and which shall be accompanied with the prayers off

Your deplorable servants the people of Florence.

Sir. John Hawkwood having received this Letter, acquainted King Fardinando therewith, as also his resolution to hasten to their re∣leife. The Kingthough loath to part with his company, yet it being upon so honorable an account, most willingly condescended, rewarding him very liverally for his noble atcheivements, and to the rest of the Cap∣tains and Officers he gave Iewels, and store of money, yea the meanest of the souldiers tasted liberally of his bounty, so that every one praised him for a most honorable and renowned Prince At the prefired day for his departure the Prince Arnaldo presented him 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a rich sword, the hilt whereof was all cu••io••sly enchased with diamonds of an inestimable value; and the most beautiful Mariana gave him a rich Diamond King, of so great price, that it was esteemed to be worth a Kings ransome. So after many complemental expressions of ac∣knowledgement and gratitude, the renowned Knight took his leave marching with all the speed he could to Italy, and ceased not till he came within the borders of Florence, where he found all things tur∣ned toysy turvy, stately buildings converted into ruinous h••aps of ashes, Towns lay desolate, and Villages without inhabitants, the fruitful fields crowned with corn, and the fat pastures covered with cattel, were now destitute of both, the harbarous foe spareing nothing which had either life in it, or which was for the sustentation and maintenance of life. Sir John Hawkwood marching into the City of Florence, was received by the C••tizens with great joy, hoping now they should be able to deal with the insulting enemy, who regardless of being encountred with, kept not themselves in an entire body, but dispersinglylay in several companies, Sir John Hawkwood having notice of this their careles security, resolved not to let slip so golden an opportunity, wherefore the next morning he marched out against them, when not four miles off, he found a party of them of about two thousand, some of which were singing, some dancing, some brinking, but none of them prepared or siting to fight, the English souldiers en∣compassing them round killed them all, leaving not one of them alive to carry the sad tidings to the rest of their fellows how they sped. Then marched they with their Army five miles further, where was another company of them about four thousand more, whom they served as they did the other; but scearcely had they so done, when the Scouts brought them word that the main body of the Enemies was not

above three 〈…〉〈…〉 thence, whereupon the noble Knight Sir, John Hawkwood drawing up his m••n vpon the side of an hill, Inh•••• he m••ght be conveniently heard of them all, he there speake to them, these words.

Four valours renowned souldiers and companions in Arms, have been so often tryed and approved in fights, that it may seem superflu∣ou•• at this present for me to say any thing to encourage you on, I shall now rather advise yee to have a care of being too forward, that you may not be encompassed with their numerous army, and so valour be enforced to give place to multitude, yet would I not by this Ora∣tion take off the edge of your valour, but only to desire you to use it ••ith discretion, and being thus forewarned let us march on, God and good fortune be our good speed.

These words being uttered both Armies drew near to each other, the Huns as to an assured victory by reason of their vast numbers, the English confident as being always used to conquer. The barbarous people seeing so few opposers, never put themselves into order, as ac∣counting themselves sure enou••h of their prize; but the noble Hawkwood soon made him to perceive the odds between an Eagle an a Kite for drawing out h••s sword, he with an unres••istable courage set upon them, giving as many wounds as blows, and as many deaths almost as wounds (lightning courage, and thundring smart upon them as put a stop to their over high proceedings) the other English Com∣ma••de••s writing after the fair ••eppy that he had set, laid about them like emaged Lions, making legs and arms goe complaning to the earth how ill their Masters had kept them, but fearing least in long fight they should be conquered by conquering, they drew back towards the City, but drew back in such sort that still their terrour went for∣ward, like a valiant Mastife, whom, when his Master pulls back by the tail from the Bear, though his pace be backward his gesture is for∣ward. The Huns having tasted so liberally of the English valour, were not over hasty to fellow, so that now some space of ground being be∣twix them, and a c••ssation from fighting for the present, the Sagi∣ta 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Hun 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••••th between the two armies and spake as followeth.

Proud Christians, whose desperate fortunes has emboldned you to this stout resistance, if there he any one amongst you that dares lay a particular claim to valour, and in whose strength you can so

much confide as to vemure your cause upon his success set him here appear before me, that we may encounter together, and if he over∣come me, we shall willingly yeild to you, but if 〈◊〉〈◊〉 overcome by me we shall expect that you shall become servants to us.

This proud challenge who no sooner 〈◊〉〈◊〉, but that the invicible Hawkwood steped unto him, saying, monster 〈…〉〈…〉 thy shope ten times worse then it is, or ha••st thou the strength of Al••des, who cleansed the Augean stables, or the might of Arlas, who is sa••d to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 port the heaven with his back, yet would I no fear to 〈…〉〈…〉 with thée, therefore prepare thy self to receive by my sword the just re∣ward for all those cruelties thou hast 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and think not by sight to scape thy deserved punishment, for now is the time come that must p••t a period to all your bloody in humani••ies.

These words being ultered, both parties encountred each other with invincible courage, so that in short time their armor slew in peices, and the blood ran abundantly down from either pa••ty, in which most cruel fight they continued together for the space of two hours, at last Sir John Hawkwood enraged at the valour of his adversary, and knowing it was now no time of dalliance, séeing the Monster he in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 faint, he so redoubled his blows, and laid on with such invinsible cou∣rage, that at last he brought the Saggitary to the ground, who at his fall sent forth such a hideous yell, as if Pluto's Court were broken open or that he were a howlling out his Dirge, for the loss of his bel••v••d Proserpine.

With this fall of their General, fell the courage of the Hunns, who immediately betwook themselves to flight; the English par••uing them made such slaughter of their bodies, that the earth-drunk wi••h their bloud, spewed it up in crimson streams, and the slaughter••d ca••kasses lay on such heaps, as if they intended to make mountains of humain bodyes, thirty thousand was the least that fell in this days encounter: the rest with much fear aud confusion returning to their Country. The magnanimous Hawkwood having received this v••ctory, ••ell down on his knées in the field where he was, returning thanks to the Almigh∣ty for that great deliverance, not attributing ought in the hast to him∣self, but ascribing all to the immort•••• Deity, without whose he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 can do nothing. And now the souldiers being weary of Killing, the fields cleared, and no danger to be expected from the Enem••, the re∣nowned

English with their victorious General returned in Tri∣umph to the City of Florence, where they were entertained in such gallant manner that I want art to describe the same. The Bells rung Musique played, the Conduits ran Wine, the Maidens with gar••••ios on their h••ads sang and danced in the streets, and generally there was such a rejoycing as had ••ever been seen in that City, all of them with one voice chancing forth the praifes of the renowned Mer∣chant Taylor Sir J. Hawkwood. Having thus in triumph marched up to the Moot-hall or cheif meeting place in a•• the City, he was by the Recorder thereof accosted with this fellowing Ora••ion.

Most renowned Sir. to whom we must acknowledg that we owe whatsoever we are, by whose unconquerable valour our City and Country hath been wrested out of the jaws of destruction, and pre∣served from utter ruine and desolation: had I as many tongues as Bria••ius had hands, or Argus eyes, yet were all of them insufficient to set forth your deserved praises, whose deeds have been such that Babes unborn in time to come shall chant forth these your noble atcheive∣ments, vouchsafe great Sir to accept the humble thanks of this our City; and a greateful acknowledgment of your inestimable benefits bestowed upon us, which time shall not obliterate, but shall be pre∣served in brazen Statutes, that after ages may be informed of your noble facts, and how much posterity is indebted to your immortal memory.

This speech being ended, they presented him with a rich purse wherein was contained five hundred peices of Gold, then did the Trumpets sound, and the souldiers gave such a volly of shot, as made the earth to ring with the sound thereof; this Joy continued for the space of six weeks together, each day affording them fresh varieties of pleasures, at last an honourable employment summoned our noble Merchant Taylor the renowned Hawkwood to buckle on his armour again, which was occasioned as followeth.

There was at that time a mighty Dragon which hunted the bor∣ders of the Florentines Country, doing great damage to the inhabi∣tants thereof, so that many sad complaints of the misehalfs that he had done were brought unto the States of Florence, Sir John Hawkwood having knowledg thereof, would needs try his valour against th••s enemy of mankind, and the next morning buckling one his ar∣mour,

taking only one servant along with him, being gallantly moun∣ted

[illustration]

they rode on their journy, & at last came to the place where they beheld the Dragon, as he lay sunning himself against a mossey bank The Knight espying him alighted from his horse, which he delivered to his man, resolving to accomplish the adventure on foot, and marching directly to the place where he lay, no sooner did the Dragon espy him, but with full mouth he came running towards him, and elevating himself upon his tayle, sought to grasy him into his di∣structive

••laws, but the Knight with a nimble turn aboided the same, and with his sword stroke so hard upon the Dragons head, that though by reason of his scales, which were as hard as brass, it made no en∣trance therein, yet it made him to stagger, and therewithal a little to give back; the Knight herewith encouraged, and the Dragon som∣thing dismayed, he intended to pursue his advantage, to put a speedyer period to the combat: and seeking to thrust his sword into the Dragons belly, where only it was penetrable, the Dragon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a nimble whi••k of his tayle, gave him such a blow on the back, as he supposed a heuie ••de had fallen upon him, but recollecting himself, and taking fresh courage, he so valiantly behaved himself, giving the Dragon so many wounds, that the grass was stained all over with his purple gore, and now begining to faint for want of blood; he would have departed, which the valiant Hawkwood perceiving, he so redoubled his blows, that at length he brought him to the ground, where notwithstanding, what with his tallons, and what with his ta•••• he so defended himself, that it was long ere the noble Knight could make a ful conquest of him, at length the Dragon clapping with his wings, the valian•• Knight thrust his sword under one of them up to the hilts, which p••••••ed his very heart, and made him yeild his-liveless body a trophee of the Conquerers unmatchable prowess, By this time some of the knights of the City, who missing his company, and imagining what he was gone about, had in the search of him, just found him at the ve∣ry instant of time when the Dragon with his fall, had given their eyes a full assurance of the Knights victory, whom they congratulated with all the expressions of honour and gratitude imaginable, conducting him back to the City in solemn triumph, where he was entertained with ringing of bells, bonestres, and such acclamasions of the people, that my pen wants art to set it forth. This renowned Knight after the killing the Dargon lived in great honour and splendour in this City, the space of seven years, his fame spreading as far as Sol with his heames doth enlighten the earth, several Countries erecting Statues, to his immortal memory, and engraving thereon to the everlasting remembrance of that famous Knight at Arms the Renowned English Merchant Taylor Sir John Hawkwood, at last having attained to his great Clymact••rical Year of Sixty three in the City of Florence aforsaid, he departed thie life, to the unspeakable grief of the inhabi∣tants

of that City, who in gratitude for his valour shown in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 defence, erected to his memory a most magnificent Structure, where∣in was pourtrayed his conquering the Sagitarian Tartar, his killing of the Dragon, with many other things of most exquisite workmanship, and to this day over the cheif bridge of Florence is his Statue on Horse back in brass, with these verses underneath.

England's prime honour, Italies renown, Who upheld all Italy from sinking down.

His friends also in England to his immortal memory, erected for him at Sible Henningham in Essex where he was born, a curious arched Mo∣nument wherein was pourtrayed the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Hawks flying in a Wood, in reference to his name of Hawkwood, and also built a Chauntry allowing four Priests ten pounds a pear (such was the Reli∣gion of those times) to pray for his soul.

And thus gentle Reader have we briefly shown you the noble At∣chievements of some few of the renowned Society of Merchant-Tay∣lors, to ennumerate them all would require more than one mans life to set them down, their number exceeding the bounds of Arithme∣tick. Wee will end the••efore all in a Corollary concerning this Worshipful Company, their Hall, free School, and some other deeds of Charity by some of that Society, and to I will conclude.

CHAP. XIV.

Several worthy Acts of the Merchant-Taylors.

THe renowned Company of Merchant-Taylors have been a Guild, or Fraternity time out of minde, being called by the Name of Taylors and Linnen Armorers. For I find that King Edward the first

in the twentieth eight year of his Reign confirmed this Guild by the Name of T'aylors an 〈…〉〈…〉 and also gave to the Brethren thereof, authority every year at Midsummer to hold a feast, and to choose unto them a Governour or Master, with Wardens: where∣npon the same year 1300 on the Feast day of the Nativity of Saint John Baptist, they chose Henry de Ryal to be their Pilgrim, for the Master of this Mystery (as one that travelled for the whole Compa∣ny) was then so called untill the eleventh year of Richard the second; and the four Wardens were then called Purveyors of Almes (now called Quarteridge) of the said Fraternity.

The Hall belonging to this Worshipfull Company is in Thred needle street, not far distant from the Parish Church of St. Martins Oteswtich, which somtime pertained to a worshipful Gentleman named Edmond Crepin▪ he in the year of Christ 1331. The sixth of Edward the third for a certain sumne of money to him paid, made his grant thereof, by the name of his principal Message in the Wards of Cornhil and Broadstreet, which Sir Oliver Inghani Knight did then hold, to John of Yakley the Kings Pavillion maker, whereupon it was then called the New-hall, or Taylors Inne, for a difference from their old Hall, which was about the back side of the Red Lyon in Basing lane.

The 21 of Edward the fourth, Thomas Holm alias Clarienceaux King of Arms for the South parts of England, granted by his Pattents to this Noble Company of Taylors and Linnen-armourers, for their Arms, to bear in a field Silver, a Pavilion between two Mantles Im∣perial, purple, garnished with Gold, in a chief azure, a holy lamb, fet within a Sun, the Crest upon the Helm, a Pavilion purple, gar∣nished with Gold, &c.

After this, King Henry the 7 was himself a brother of this frater∣nity, of Taylors or Linnen-armourers, as divers others of his pre∣decessors Kings had been, to wit Richard the third, Edward the fourth. Henry the sixth, Henry the fifth, Henry the fourth, and Ri∣chard the second. And for that divers of that fraternity had (time out of mind) been great Merchants, and had frequented all sorts of Merchandizes into most parts of the world, to the honour of the Kings Realm, and to the great profit of his Subjects, and of his pro∣genitors, and the men of the said mistry, (during the time aforesaid) had execrised the buying and selling of all Wares and Merchandi∣zes,

especially of woollen cloath, as well in gross, as by Retai•• thoroughout all this Realm of England, and chiefly within the City of London, he therefore of his especial grace, did incorporate them into the name of the Master and wardens of the Merchant-Taylors, of the fraternity of Saint John Baptist, in the City of London.

This Worshipful Company have a most famous Grammer School belonging unto them, founded in the Year 1561. by the Master, Wardens and Assistans of the Merchant-Taylors, in Suffolk-lane, in the Parish of St Lawrence Poulthey, in Downe-gate Ward, Richand Hills sometimes Master of that Company having before given 5001, towards the purchase of an House, called the Mannour of the Rose, sometime belonging to the Duke of Buckingham, wherein the said School is now kept.

Now as God hath from time to time blessed this worshipful Com∣pany with abundance of wealth, so have they not been leaving to distribute the same again in Charitable uses, having near to their Hall built seven alms-houses, wherein are placed sevea alms-men of that Company and their wives (if they have any) each of these seven of old time had fourteen pence the week, but now of latter time, their stipend by the said Master and Wardens hath been augmented to the sum of twenty six shillings the Quarter, which is five pound four shillings the year to each of them, besides Coals. More to each of them twenty shillings the Year by gift of Walter Fish, sometime Master of that Company, and Taylor to her Majesty.

Besides this have they at the West end of Hogs-street, by Tower hill certain fair Alms-houses, strong••y builded of brick and Timber, and covered with slate, wherein are 14 poor sole women, which receive each of them of their founders 16 pence, or better weekly, besides 8 pounds fifteen shillings yearly, paid out of the Common Treasury of the same Corporation for fewel.

Now should we come to speak of the gifts and bounties of particu∣lar persons free of this Worshipful Company, it would make a suffi∣cient volumn of its self, I shall only instance in one or two, referring the re•••• to a more convenient place.

Robert Thorno Merchant-Taylor, who dyed in the Year, 1532. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by his Testament to charitable actions more than four thousand four

hundred & forty pounds, and Legacies to his poor kindred more five thousand, one hundred, forty two pounds besides his debts forgi∣ven, &c.

Sir Thomas White Lord Mayor of the City of London in Anno 1554 and a Brother likewise of the Merchant-Taylors Society, founded St. John Baptists Colledge in Oxford, erected Schools at Bristow, Redding, and a Colledge at Higham Ferries, and gave several thousands of pounds to other charitable uses.

Sir Thomas Rowe Knight Lord Mayor of the City of London, in 1568 a worthy Brother also of the Merchant-Taylors Company, built the new Church-yard in Bethelem, gave an hundred pounds to be lent to 8 poor men, and 40 pounds yearly to maintain ten poor men for e∣ver to be chosen out of the five several Companies, of Clothworkers, Armourers, Carpenters, Tylars and Plaisterers.

Sir Thomas ••ffley Merchant Taylor, Mayor, who deceased Anno 1580 appointed by his Testament the one half of all his goods, and 200 pounds deducted out of the other half, given to his son Henry to be given and bestowed in deeds of Charity, by his Executors, according to his confidence and trust in them.

Infinite others might we produce, whose charities and bountiful house keeping, have been as conspicuous as the Sun in the Firma∣ment, no Society having produced more brighter, stars in Fames ho∣rizon, but we shall leave the further prosecution hereof unto a se∣cond Edition of this book.