1603. The vvonderfull yeare. Wherein is shewed the picture of London lying sicke of the Plague. ...

THE WONDER∣full yeare.

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

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

The sommons made her start, but (hauing an inuincible

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

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

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

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

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

Thus farre the Prologue, who leauing the Stage cléere, the feares that are bred in the womb of this altring kingdome

do next step vp, acting thus:

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

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

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

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

1. Vpon the Queenes last Remoue being dead.

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

2. Vpon her bringing by water to White Hall.

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

3. Vpon her lying dead at White Hall.

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

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

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

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

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

—Siluer Crowds Of blisfull Angels and tryed Martirs tread On the Star-seeling ouer Englands head: Now heauen broke into a wonder, and brought forth Our omne bonum from the holesome North (Our fruitfull souereigne) Iames, at whose dread name Rebellion swounded, and (ere since) became Groueling and nerue-lesse, wanting bloud to nourish, For Ruine gnawes her selfe when kingdomes flourish. Now are our hopes planted in regall springs, Neuer to wither, for our aire breedes kings: And in all ages (from this soueraigne time) England shall still be cald the royall clime. Most blisfull Monarch of all earthen powers, Seru'd with a messe of kingdomes, foure such bowers

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

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

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

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

Here would I faine make a full point,* 1.10 because posteritie should not be frighted with those miserable tragedies, which now my muse (as Chorus) stands readie to present. Time would thou hadst neuer bin made wretched by bringing them forth, Obliuion would in all the graues and sepulchers, whose rancke iawes thou hast already closd vp or shalt yet hereafter burst open, thou couldst likewise bury them for euer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

foorth such amorous glances, must be eaten out of his head: his lockes that hang wantonly dangling, troden in durt vnder foote: this doubtlesse (like thunder) must néeds strike him into the earth. But (wretched man!) when thou shalt sée, and be assured (by to∣kens sent thée from heauen) that to morrow thou must be fum∣bled into a Mucke-pit, and suffer thy body to be bruisde and prest with threescore dead men, lying slouenly vpon thée, and thou to be vndermost of all! yea and perhaps halfe of that number were thine enemies! (and sée howe they may be reuenged, for the wormes that bréed out of their putrifying carcasses, shall crawle in huge swarmes from them, and quite deuoure thée) what ago∣nies wil this straunge newes driue thée into? If thou art in loue with thy selfe, this cannot choose but possesse thée with frenzie. But thou art gotten safe (out of the ciuill citie Calamitie) to thy Parkes and Pallaces in the Country: lading thy Asses and thy Mules with thy gold, (thy god), thy plate, and thy Iewels: and the fruites of thy wombe thriftily growing vp but in one onely sonne, (the young Landlord of all thy carefull labours) him also hast thou rescued from the arrowes of infection; Now is thy soule iocund, and thy sences merry. But open thine eyes thou Foole! and behold that darling of thine eye, (thy sonne) turnde suddeinly into a lumpe of clay; the hand of pestilence hath smote him euen vnder thy wing: Now doest thou rent thine haire, blaspheme thy Creator, cursest thy creation, and basely descendest into bruitish & vnmanly passions, threatning in despite of death & his Plague, to maintaine the memory of thy childe, in the euerlasting brest of Marble: a tombe must now defend him from tempests: And for that purpose, the swetty hinde (that digs the rent he paies thée out of the entrailes of the earth) he is sent for, to conuey foorth that burden of thy sorrow: But note how thy pride is disdained: that weather-beaten sun-burnt drudge, that not a month since fawnde vpon thy worship like a Spaniell, and like a bond-slaue, would haue stoopt lower than thy féete, does now stoppe his nose at thy presence, and is readie to set his Mastiue as hye as thy throate, to driue thée from his doore: all thy golde and siluer cannot hire one of those (whom before thou didst scorne) to carry the dead body to his last home: the Countrey round about thée, shun thée as a Ba∣siliske,

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

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

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

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

Let vs pursue these runnawaies no longer, but leaue them in the vnmerciful hands of the Country-hard-harted Hobbinolls, (who are ordaind to be their Tormentors,) and returne backe to the siege of the Citie; for the enemy taking aduantage by their flight, planted his ordinance against the walls; here the Canons (like their great Bells) roard: the Plague tooke sore paines for a breach, he laid about him cruelly, ere he could get it, but at length he and his tiranous band entred: his purple colours were pre∣sently (with the sound of Bow-bell in stead of a trompet) aduan∣ced, and ioynd to the Standard of the Citie; he marcht euen tho∣row Cheapside, and the capitall streets of Troynouant: the only blot of dishonor that stuck vpon this Inuader, being this, that he plaide the tyrant, not the conqueror, making hauock of all, when he had all lying at the foote of his mercy. Men, women & children dropt downe before him: houses were rifled, stréetes ransackt, beautifull maydens throwne on their beddes, and rauisht by sick∣nes, rich-mens Cofers broken open, and shared amongst prodi∣gall heires and vnthriftie seruants, poore men vsde poorely, but not pittifully: he did very much hurt, yet some say he did verie much good. Howsoeuer he behaued himselfe, this intelligence runs cur∣rant, that euery house lookte like S. Bartholmewes. Hospitall,

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

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

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

because they sucke sweetnesse by this; for the price of flowers, hearbes and garlands, rose wonderfully, in so much that Rosemary which had wont to be solde for 12. pence an armefull, went now for sixe shillings a handfull.

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

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

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

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

Neuer let any man aske me what became of our Phisitions in this Massacre, they hid their Synodicall heads aswell as the prowdest: and I cannot blame them, for their Phlebotomies, Losinges, and Electuaries, with their Diacatholicons, Diacodi∣ons, Amulets, and Antidotes, had not so much strength to hold life and soule together, as a pot of Pinders Ale and a Nutmeg: their drugs turned to durt, their simples were simple things: Galen could do no more good, than Sir Giles Goosecap: Hipo∣crates, Auicen, Paracelsus, Rasis, Fernelius, with all their succéeding rabble of Doctors and Water-casters, were at their wits end, or I thinke rather at the worlds end, for not one of them durst péepe abroad; or if any one did take vpon him to play the ventrous Knight, the Plague put him to his Nonplus; in such strange, and such changeable shapes did this Cameleon-like sicknes appeare, that they could not (with all the cunning in their budgets) make pursenets to take him napping.

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

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

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

We will therefore play the Souldiers, who at the end of any notable battaile, with a kind of sad delight rehearse the memo∣rable acts of their friends that lye mangled before them: some shewing how brauely they gaue the onset: some, how poli∣tickly they retirde: others, how manfullie they gaue and recei∣ued wounds: a fourth steps vp and glories how valiantlie he lost an arme: all of them making (by this meanes) the remem∣brance euen of tragicall and mischieuous euents very delectable. Let vs striue to do so, discoursing (as it were at the end of this mortall siege of the Plague) of the seuerall most worthie acci∣dents, and strange birthes which this pestiferous yeare hath brought forth: some of them yéelding Comicall and ridiculous stuffe, others lamentable: a third kind vpholding rather admi∣ration, then laughter or pittie.

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

néed of it, the many want a good name) lying in that cōmon Inne of sickmen, his bed, & séeing the black & blew stripes of the plague sticking on his flesh, which he receiued as tokens (from heauen) that he was presentlie to go dwell in the vpper world, most ear∣nestlie requested, and in a manner coniured his friend (who came to enterchange a last farewell) that he would sée him goe handsomely attirde into the wild Irish countrey of wormes, and for that purpose to bestow a Coffin vpon him: his friend louing him (not because he was poore (yet he was poore) but because he was a scholler: Alack that the West Indies stand so farre from Vniuersities! and that a minde richly apparelled should haue a thred-bare body!) made faithfull promise to him, that he should be naild vp, he would boord him, and for that purpose went in∣stantlie to one of the new-found trade of Coffin-cutters, be∣spake one, and (like the Surueyor of deaths buildings) gaue direction how this little Tenement should be framed, paying all the rent for it before hand. But note vpon what slippery ground life goes! little did he thinke to dwell in that roome himselfe which he had taken for his friend: yet it séemed the common lawe of mortalitie had so decréede, for he was cald into the colde companie of his graue neighbors an houre before his infected friend, and had a long lease (euen till doomes day) in the same lodging, which in the strength of health he went to prepare for the other. What credit therefore is to be giuen to breath, which like a harlot will runne away with euery minute. How nimble is Sicknes, and what skill hath he in all the weapons he playes withall? The greatest cutter that takes vp the Mediterranean Ile in Powles for his Gallery to walke in, cannot ward off his blowes. Hées the best Fencer in the world: Vincentio Sauiolo is no body to him: He has his Mandrittaes, Imbrocataes, Stra∣mazones, and Stoccataes at's fingers ends: héele make you giue him ground, tho you were neuer worth foote of land, and beat you out of breath, though Aeolus himselfe plaid vpō your wind-pipe.

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

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

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

hide himselfe in his owne house, whereupon, he cald for help at the same Inne, where not long before he and his fellow-pil∣grimes obteined for their money (mary yet with more prayers then a begger makes in thrée Tearmes) to stand and drinke some thirtie foote from the doore. To this house of tipling Iniquitie he repaires againe, coniuring the Lares or walking Sprites in it, if they were Christians (that if was well put in) and in the name of God, to succor and rescue him to their power out of the hands of infection, which now assaulted his body: the Diuell would haue bin afraid of this coniuration, but they were not, yet afraid they were it séemde, for presentlie the doores had their wodden ribs crusht in pieces, by being beaten together: the casements were shut more close then an Vsurers greasie veluet pouch: the drawing windowes were hangd drawne and quartered: not a creuis but was stopt, not a mouse-hole left open, for all the holes in the house were most wickedlie dambd vp: mine Host and Hostesse ran ouer one another into the back-side, the maydes into the Orchard, quiuering and quaking, and readie to hang themselues on the innocent Plomtrées, (for hanging to them would not be so sore a death as the Plague, & to dye maydes too! Oh horible!) As for the Tapster, he fled into the Celler, rapping out fiue or sixe plaine Countrey oathes that he would drowne himselfe in a most villanous Stand of Ale, if the sick Londoner stoode at the dore any longer. But stand there he must, for to goe away (well) he cannot, but continues knocking and calling in a faint voice, which in their eares sounded as if some staring ghost in a Tragedy had exclaimd vpon Rhadamanth: he might knock till his hands akt, and call till his heart akt, for they were in a worse pickle within, than he was without: he being in a good way to go to heauen, they being so frighted, that they scarce knew whereabout heauen stoode, onely they all cryed out, Lord haue mercy vpon vs, yet Lord haue mercy vpon vs was the onely thing they feared. The dolefull Catastrophe of all is, a bed could not be had for all Babylon: not a cup of drinke, no, nor cold water be gotten, though it had bin for Alexander the great: if a draught of Aqua vitae might haue sau'd his soule, the towne denyed to do God that good seruice.

What miserie continues euer? The poore man standing thus at deaths dore, and looking euery minute when he should be let in, behold, another Londoner, that had likewise bin in the Frigi∣da Zona of the countrey, and was returning (like Aeneas out of hell) to the heauen of his owne home, makes a stand at this sight, to play the Phisition, and seeing by the complexion of his pati∣ent that he was sick at heart, applies to his soule the best medi∣cines that his comforting spéech could make, for there dwelt no Poticary néere enough to help his body. Being therefore driuen out of all other shifts, he leades him into a field (a bundle of Straw, which with much adoe he bought for money, ser∣uing in stead of a pillow.) But the destinies hearing the disea∣sed partie complaine and take on, because he lay vpon a field-bed, when before he would haue bin glad of a mattris, for very spite cut the thread of his life, the crueltie of which déede, made the other (that playd Charities part) at his wits end, because he knewe not where to purchace tenne foote of ground for his graue: the Church nor Church-yard would let none of their lands: Maister Vicar was struck dumb, and could not giue the dead a good word, neither Clarke nor Sexton could be hirde to execute their office; no, they themselues would first be execu∣ted: so that hée that neuer handled Shouell before, got his implements about him, ripd vp the belly of the earth, and made it like a graue, stript the cold carcas, bound his shirt about his féete, puld a linnen night-cap ouer his eyes, and so layd him in the rotten bed of the earth, couering him with clothes cut out of the same piece; and learning by his last words his name and habitation, this sad trauailer arriues at London, deliuering to the amazed widow and children in stead of a father and a husband, only the out-side of him, his apparell. But by the way note one thing, the bringer of these heauie ti∣dings (as if he had liu'd long enough when so excellent a worke of pietie and pittie was by him finished) the very next day after his comming home, departed out of this world, to receiue his reward in the Spirituall court of heauen.

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

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

Too ripe a proofe haue wée of this, in a paire of Louers; the mayd was in the pride of fresh bloud and bewty: she was that which to be now is a wonder, yong and yet chast: the gifts of her mind were great, yet those which fortune bestowed vpon her (as being well descended) were not much inferior: On this louely creature did a yong man so stedfastly fixe his eye, that her lookes kindled in his bosome a desire, whose flames burnt the more brightlie, because they were fed with swéet and modest thoughts: Hymen was the God to whom he prayed day and night that he might mary her: his prayers were receiud, & at length (after many tēpests of her denial & the frownes of kinsfolke) the element grew cléere, & he saw the happy landing-place, where he had long sought to ariue: the prize of her youth was made his owne, & the solemne day appointed when it should be deliuered to him. Glad of which blessednes (for to a louer it is a blessednes) he wrought by all the possible arte he could vse to shorten the expected houre, and bring it néerer: for whether he feared the interception of parents, or that his owne soule (with excesse of ioy) was drownd in strange passions, he would often, with sighes mingled with kis∣ses, and kisses halfe sinking in teares, propheticallie tell her, that sure he should neuer liue to inioy her: To discredit which opi∣nion of his, behold, the Sunne has made hast and wakened the bridall morning. Now does he call his heart traytor, that did so falsely conspire against him: liuely bloud leapes into his chéekes: hées got vp, and gaily attirde to play the Bridegroome; She likewise does as cunninglie turne her selfe into a Bride; kindred and friends are met together; Sops and Muscadine run sweating vp and downe till they drop againe, to comfort their hearts, and because so many Coffins pestred London-Churches,

that there was no roome left for weddings, Coaches are proui∣ded, and away rides all the trayne into the Countrey. On a Monday morning are these lustie louers on their iourney, and before noone are they alighted, entring (in stead of an Inne) for more State into a Church, where they no sooner appeared, but the Priest fell to his busines, the holie knot was a tying, but hée that should fasten it, comming to this, In sicknes and in health, there he stopt, for suddenly the bride tooke hold of, in sick∣nes, for in health all that stoode by were in feare she should ne∣uer be kept. The mayden-blush into which her chéekes were lately dyed, now began to loose colour: her voyce (like a co∣ward) would haue shrunke away, but that her Louer reaching her a hand, which he brought thither to giue her, (for he was not yet made a full Husband) did with that touch somewhat reuiue her: on went they againe so farre, till they met with For better, for worse, there was she worse then before, and had not the holy Officer made haste, the ground on which she stoode to be maryed might easily haue bin broken vp for her bu∣riall. All Ceremonies being finished, she was lead betwéene two, not like a Bride, but like a Coarse, to her bed: That; must now be the table, on which the wedding dinner is to be serued vp (being at this time nothing, but teares and sighes and lamen∣tation) and Death is chiefe waiter, yet at length her weake heart wrastling with the pangs, gaue them a fall, so that vp she stoode againe, and in the fatall funerall Coach that caryed her forth, was she brought back (as vpon a Béere) to the Citie: but sée the malice of her enemy that had her in chace, vpon the Weds∣day following being ouertaken, was her life ouercome, Death rudely lay with her, & spoild her of a maydenhead in spite of her husband. Oh the sorrow that did round beset him! now was his diuination true, she was a wife, yet continued a mayd: he was a husband and a widower, yet neuer knew his wife: she was his owne, yet he had her not: she had him, yet neuer enioyed him: héere is a strange alteration, for the Rosemary that was washt in swéete water to set out the Bridall, is now wet in teares to fur∣nish her buriall: the Musick that was heard to sound forth dances cannot now be heard for the ringing of bels: all the comfort

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

Better fortune had this Bride to fall into the handes of the Plague, then one other of that fraile female sexe, (whose picture is next to be drawne) had to scape out of them. An honest Cobler (if at least Coblers can be honest, that liue altogether amongst wicked soales) had a wife, who in the time of health treading her shooe often awry, determined in the agony of a sicknesse (which this yeare had a saying to her) to fall to mending as wel as her husband did. The bed that she laie vpon (being as she thought, or rather feared) the last bed that euer should beare her, (for ma∣ny other beds had borne her you must remember) and y^e worme of sinne tickling her conscience, vp she calles her verie innocent and simple husband, out of his vertuous shop, where like Iu∣stice he sat distributing among the poore, to some, halfe-penny pieces, penny-pieces to some, and two-penny pieces to others, so long as they would last; his prouident care being alwaies, that euery man and woman should goe vpright. To the beds side of his plaguy wife approaches Mounsieur Cobler, to vnderstand what deadly newes she had to tell him, and the rest of his kinde neighbours that there were assembled: Such thicke teares, stan∣ding in both the gutters of his eyes, to see his beloued lye in such a pickle, that in their salt water, all his vtterance was drownde: which she perceiuing, wept as fast as he: But by the warme counsel which sat about the bed, the shewer ceast; she wiping her chéekes with the corner of one of the shéetes, and hée, his sullyed face, with his lothren Apron. At last, two or thrée sighes (like a Chorus to the Tragedy ensuing) stepping out first, wringing her handes (which gaue the better Action) she tolde the pittifull Actaeon her husband, that she had often done him wrong: hée onely shooke his head at this, and cried humh! which humh, she taking as the watchword of his true patience, vnraueld the bot∣tome of her frailtie at length, and concluded, that with such a man (and named him, but I hope you would not haue me follow her steppes and name him too) she practized the vniuersall & com∣mon Art of grafting, and that vpon her good mans head, they

two had planted a monstrous paire of inuisible hornes: At the sound of the Hornes, my Cobler started vp like a march Hare, and began to looke wilde: his Awle neuer ran through the sides of a boote, as that word did through his heart: but being a polli∣ticke Cobler, and remembring what piece of worke he was to vn∣der-laie, stroking his beard (like some graue Head-borough of the Parish) and giuing a nod, as who should say goe on, bad her goe on indeed, clapping to her sore soule, this generall salue, that All are sinners, and we must forgiue, &c. For he hoped by such wholesome Phisicke, (as Shoe-makers waxe being laide to a Byle) to drawe out all the corruption of her secret villanies. Shée good heart being tickled vnder the gilles, with the finger of these kinde speeches, turnes vp the white of her eye, and fetches out an other. Another (O thou that art trained vp in nothing but to handle pieces) Another hath dischargde his Artillery against thy Castle of Fortification: here was passion predominant: Vulcan strooke the Coblers ghost (for he was now no Cobler) so harde vpon his brest, that he cryed oh! his neighbours taking pittie to see what terrible stitches pulde him, rubde his swelling tem∣ples with the iuice of patience, which (by vertue of the blackish sweate that stood réeking on his browes, and had made them supple) entered very easily into his now-parlous-vnderstanding scull: So that he left winching, and sat quiet as a Lambe, falling to his olde vomit of councell, which he had cast vp before, and swearing (because he was in strong hope, this shooe, should wring him no more) to seale her a general acquittance, prickt forward with this gentle spurre, her tongue mends his pace, so that in her confession shée ouertooke others, whose bootes had bene set all night on the Coblers Last, bestowing vpon him the Poesie of their names, the time, and place, to the intent it might be put in∣to his next wiues wedding-ring. And although she had made all these blots in his tables, yet the bearing of one man false (whom she had not yet discouered) stucke more in her stomach than all the rest. O valiant Cobler (cries out one of the Auditors) how art thou set vpon? how art thou tempted? happie art thou, that thou art not in thy shop, for in stead of cutting out pieces of lea∣ther, thou wouldst doubtles now pare away thy heart: for I sée,

and so do all thy neighbours heare (thy wiues ghostly fathers) sée that a smal matter wold now make thée turn Turk, and to medle with no more patches: but to liue within the compasse of thy wit: lift not vp thy collar: be not horne mad: thank heauen y^t the mur∣der is reueald: Study thou Baltazars part in Ieronimo, for thou hast more cause (tho lesse reason) than he, to be glad and sad.

Well, I sée thou art worthy to haue patient Griseld to thy wife, for thou bearest more than she: thou shewst thy selfe to be a right Cobler & no Sowter, that canst thus cleanly clout vp y^e bro∣ken & seamerent sides of thy affection. With this learned oration the Cobler was tutord: laid his finger on his mouth, & cried Pa∣ueos palabros: he had seald her pardon, and therefore bid her not feare: herevpon she named the malefactor (I could name him too, but that he shall liue to giue more Coblers heads the bastinado.) And told, that on such a night when he supt there (for a Lord may sup with a Cobler, that hath a prettie wench to his wife) when the cloth (O trecherous linnen!) was taken vp, and Menelaus had for a parting blow, giuen the other his fist; downe she lightes (this half-sharer) opening the wicket, but not shutting him out of the wicket; but conueys him into a by-roome (being the wardrob of old shooes and leather) from whence (the Vnicorne-cobler (that dream't of no such spirits) being ouer-head and eares in sléepe; his snorting giuing the signe that he was cock-sure) softly out-steales Sir Paris, and to Hellenaes téeth prou'd himselfe a true Troian.

This was the creame of her confession, which being skimd off from the stomach of her conscience, shée looked euery mi∣nute to goe thither, where shée should be farre enough out of the Coblers reache. But the Fates laying their heades toge∣ther, sent a Repriue, the Plague that before meant to pep∣per her, by little and little left her company: which newes be∣ing blowne abroad, Oh lamentable! neuer did the olde buskind Tragedy begin till now: for the wiues of those husbands, with whom she had plaide at fast and loose, came with nailes sharpned for the nonce like cattes, and tongues forkedly cut like the stings of Addars, first to scratch out false Cressidaes eyes, and then (which was worse) to woorry her to death with scolding.

But the matter was tooke vp in a Tauerne; the case was alte∣red, and brought to a new reckoning (marry the bloud of the Burdeux Grape was first shead about it) but in the end, all anger on euery side was powred into a pottle-pot, and there burnt to death. Now whether this Recantation was true, or whether the steeme of infection, fuming vp (like wine) into her braines, made her talke thus idlely, I leaue it to the Iury.

And whilst they are canuasing her case, let vs sée what doings the Sexton of Stepny hath: whose ware-houses being all full of dead commodities, sauing one: that one he left open a whole night (yet was it half full too) knowing y^t théeues this yeare were too honest to breake into such Cellers. Besides those that were left there, had such plaguy-pates, that none durst meddle with them for their liues. About twelue of the clocke at midnight, when spi∣rites walke, and not a Mouse dare stirre, because Cattes goe a Catter-walling: Sinne, that all day durst not shewe his head, came réeling out of an Alehouse in the shape of a drunkard: who no sooner smelt the winde, but he thought the ground vnder him danced the Canaries: houses séemed to turne on the toe, and all things went rounde: in so much that his legges drew a paire of Indentures, betwéene his bodie and the earth, the principall co∣uenant being, that he for his part would stand to nothing what euer he sawe: euery trée that came in his way, did he iustle, and yet challendge it the next day to fight with him. If he had clipt but a quarter so much of the Kings siluer, as he did of the Kings Eng∣lish, his carkas had long ere this, bene carion for Crowes. But he liued by gaming, and had excellent casting, yet seldom wonne, for he drew reasonable good hands, but had very bad féete, that were not able to carry it away. This setter vp of malt-men, be∣ing troubled with the staggers, fell into the self-same graue, which stood gaping wide open for a breakfast next morning, and imagi∣ning (when he was in) that he had stumbled into his own house, and that all his bedfellowes (as they were indéede) were in their dead sléepe, he, (neuer complaining of colde, nor calling for more shéete) soundly takes a nap till he snorts againe: In the morning, the Sexton comes plodding along, and casting vpon his fingers ends what he hopes the dead pay of that day wil come too, by that

that which he receiued the day before, (for Sextons now had bet∣ter doings than either Tauernes or bawdy-houses,): In that sil∣uer contemplation, shrugging his shoulders together, he steppes ere he be aware on the brimmes of that pit, into which this wor∣shipper of Bacchus was falne, where finding some dead mens bones, and a scull or two, that laie scattered here and there; be∣fore he lookte into this Coffer of wormes, those he takes vp, and flinges them in: one of the sculls battered the sconce of the sléeper, whilest the bones plaide with his nose; whose blowes waking his mustie worship, the first word that he cast vp, was an oath, & thinking the Cannes had flyen about, cryed zoundes, what doe you meane to cracke my mazer? the Sexton smelling a voice, (feare being stronger than his heart) beléeued verily, some of the coarses spake to him, vpon which, féeling himselfe in a cold sweat, tooke his héeles, whilst the Goblin scrambled vp and ranne after him: But it appeares the Sexton had the lighter foote, for he ran so fast, that hée ranne out of his wittes, which being left behinde him, he dyed in a short time after, because he was not able to liue without them.

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

be an an auncient Nose:) In some corners of it, there were blewish holes, that shonne like shelles of mother of Pearle, and to doo his Nose right, Pearles had bene gathered out of them: other were richly garnisht with Rubies, Chrisolites and Car∣bunckles, which glistered so oriently that the Hamburgers, of∣fered I knowe not how many Dollars, for his company in an East-Indian voyage, to haue stoode a nightes in the Poope of their Admirall, onely to saue the charges of candles. In con∣clusion, he was an Host to be ledde before an Emperour, and though he were one of the greatest men in all the shire, his big∣nesse made him not proude, but he humbled himselfe to speake the base language of a Tapster, and vpon the Londoners first arriuall, cryed welcome, a cloth for this Gentleman: the Lin∣nen was spread and furnisht presently with a new Cake and a Can, the Roome voided, and the Guest lefte (like a French Lord) attended by no bodie: who drinking halfe a Can (in conceit) to the health of his best friend the Citie, which laie ex∣treame sicke, and had neuer more néed of health, I know not what qualmes came ouer his stomach, but immediately he fell downe without vttering any more wordes, and neuer rose a∣gaine.

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

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

shillings (out of the common towne-purse, though it would be a great cut to it) with the loue of the Churchwardens and Side∣men, during the terme of life. This was proclaimd, but none durst appeare to vndertake the dreadfull execution: they loued money well, mary the plague hanging ouer any mans head that should meddle with it in that sort, they all vowde to dye beggers before it should be Chronicled they kild themselues for fortie shil∣lings: and in that braue resolution, euery one with bag and bag∣gage marcht home, barricadoing their dores and windowes with firbushes, ferne, and bundles of straw to kéepe out the pestilence at the staues end.

At last a Tinker came sounding through the towne, mine Hosts house being the auncient watring place where he did vse to cast Anchor. You must vnderstand he was none of those base rascally Tinkers, that with a bandog and a drab at their tailes, and a pike-staffe on their necks, will take a purse sooner then stop a kettle: No, this was a deuout Tinker, he did honor God Pan: a Musicall Tinker, that vpon his kettle-drum could play any country dance you cald for, and vpon Hollidayes had earnd money by it, when no Fidler could be heard of. He was onely feared when he stalkt through some townes where Bées were, for he struck so swéetely on the bottome of his copper instru∣ment, that he would emptie whole Hiues, and leade the swarmes after him only by the sound.

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

owne purse, if he would bury the partie. A crowne was a shrewd temptation to a Tinker; many a hole might he stop, before he could pick a crowne of it, yet being a suttle Tinker (and to make all Sextons pray for him, because he would raise their fées) an Angell he wanted to be his guide, and vnder ten shillings (by his ten bones) he would not put his finger in the fire. The whole parish had warning of this presentlie, thirtie shillings was saued by the bargaine, and the towne likely to be saued too, therefore ten shillings was leuyed out of hand, put into a rag, which was tyed to the end of a long pole and deliuered (in sight of all the parish, who stoode aloofe stopping their noses) by the Head∣boroughs owne selfe in proper person, to the Tinker, who with one hand receiued the money, and with the other struck the boord, crying hey, a fresh double pot. Which armor of proofe being fit∣ted to his body, vp he hoists the Londoner on his back (like a Schoole-boy) a Shouell and Pick-axe standing readie for him: And thus furnished, into a field some good distance from the towne he beares his deadly loade, and there throwes it downe, falling roundly to his tooles, vpon which the strong beere hauing set an edge, they quickly cut out a lodging in the earth for the Citizen. But the Tinker knowing that wormes néeded no ap∣parell, sauing only shéetes, stript him starke naked, but first diu'de nimbly into his pocket, to sée what linings they had, assu∣ring himselfe, that a Londoner would not wander so farre with∣out siluer: his hopes were of the right stamp, for from one of his pockets he drew a letherne bag, with seauen pounds in it: this musick made the Tinkers heart dance, he quickly tumbled his man into the graue, hid him ouer head and eares in dust, bound vp his clothes in a bundle, and carying that at the end of his staffe on his shoulder, with the purse of seauen pounds in his hand, back againe comes he through the towne, crying alowd, Haue ye any more Londoners to bury, hey downe a downe dery, haue ye any more Londoners to bury: the Hobbinolls running away from him, as if he had bin the dead citizens ghost, and he mar∣ching away from them in all the hast he could, with that song still in his mouth.

You sée therefore how dreadfull a fellow Death is, making

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

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

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

Et iam tempus Equûm fumantia soluere colla.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Vertumnus God of the yeare.
• * 1.2

  Description of the Spring.
• * 1.3

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

  The Queenes sicknes.
• * 1.5

  Her death.
• * 1.6

  The generall terror that her death bred.
• * 1.7

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

  King Iames proclaymed.
• * 1.9

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

  The Plague.
• * 1.11

  Anthropopha∣gi are Scithians that feede on mens flesh.