Chapter 3

Before her death this manor, &c., seem to have been settled on her
only daughter Anne, then wife of Wm. Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, and
widow of Peter Compton, as before related, who was in possession of
it, with the passage over the Thames, anno 9 Q. Elizabeth.”—Hasted’s
_History of Kent_, vol. i. p. 196.

p. ix. In Lambarde’s _Perambulation of Kent_ (edit. 1826), p. 66, he
mentions “Thomas Harman” as being one of the “Kentish writers.”

Lambarde, in the same volume, p. 60, also mentions “Abacuk Harman” as
being the name of one “of suche of the nobilitie and gentrie, as the
Heralds recorded in their visitation in 1574.”

There is nothing about Harman in Mr Sandys’s book on Gavelkind, &c.,
_Consuetudines Cantiæ_. To future inquirers perhaps the following book
may be of use:

“_Bibliotheca Cantiana_: A Bibliographical Account of what has been
published on the History, Topography, Antiquities, Customs, and Family
History of the County of Kent.” By John Russell Smith.

p. 1, 12. _The xxv. Orders of Knaues._—Mr Collier gives an entry in
the Stationers’ Registers in 1585–6: “Edward White. Rd. of him, for
printinge xxij^{tl} ballades at iiij^d a peece—vij^s iiij^d, and
xiiij. more at ij^d a peece ij^s iiij^d . . . . . . . . . . . . . ix^s
viij^d” And No. 23 is “The xxv^{tle} orders of knaves.”—_Stat. Reg._
ii. 207.

p. 22. _The last Duke of Buckingham was beheaded._—Edward Stafford,
third Duke of Buckingham, one of Henry VIII’s and Wolsey’s victims,
was beheaded on Tower Hill, May 17, 1521, for ‘imagining’ the king’s
death. (‘The murnynge of Edward Duke of Buckyngham’ was one of certain
‘ballettes’ licensed to Mr John Wallye and Mrs Toye in 1557–8, says
Mr J. P. Collier, _Stat. Reg._ i. 4.) His father (Henry Stafford)
before him suffered the same fate in 1483, having been betrayed by
his servant Bannister after his unsuccessful rising in Brecon.—_Percy
Folio Ballads_, ii. 253. {xxviii}

p. 23. _Egiptians._ The Statute 22 Hen. VIII. c. 10 is _An Acte
concernyng Egypsyans_. After enumerating the frauds committed by
the “outlandysshe people callynge themselfes Egyptians,” the first
section provides that they shall be punished by Imprisonment and
loss of goods, and be deprived of the benefit of 8 Hen. VI. c. 29.
“de medietate linguæ.” The second section is a proclamation for the
departure from the realm of all such Egyptians. The third provides
that stolen goods shall be restored to their owners: and the fourth,
that one moiety of the goods seized from the Egyptians shall be given
to the seizer.

p. 48, l. 5. _The Lord Sturtons man; and when he was executed._
Charles Stourton, 7th Baron, 1548–1557:—“Which Charles, with the help
of four of his own servants in his own house, committed a shameful
murther upon one Hargill, and his son, with whom he had been long
at variance, and buried their Carcasses 50 foot deep in the earth,
thinking thereby to prevent the discovery; but it coming afterwards to
light, he had sentence of death passed upon him, which he suffer’d at
Salisbury, the 6th of March, Anno 1557, 4 Phil. & Mary, by an Halter
of Silk, in respect of his quality.”—_The Peerage of England_, vol.
ii. p. 24 (Lond., 1710).

p. 77. _Saint Quinten’s._ Saint Quinten was invoked against coughs,
says Brand, ed. Ellis, 1841, i. 196.

p. 77. _The Three Cranes in the Vintry._ “Then the Three Cranes’ lane,
so called, not only of _a sign of three cranes at a tavern door_, but
rather of three strong cranes of timber placed on the Vintry wharf by
the Thames side, to crane up wines there, as is afore showed. This
lane was of old time, to wit, the 9th of Richard II., called The
Painted Tavern lane, of the tavern being painted.”—Stow’s _Survey of
London_, ed. by Thoms, p. 90.

“The Three Cranes was formerly a favourite London sign. With the usual
jocularity of our forefathers, an opportunity for punning could not
be passed; so, instead of the three cranes, which in the vintry used
to lift the barrels of wine, three birds were represented. The Three
Cranes in Thames Street, or in the vicinity, was a famous tavern as
early as the reign of James I. It was one of the taverns frequented by
the wits in Ben Jonson’s time. In one of his plays he says:—

‘A pox o’ these pretenders! to wit, your _Three Cranes_, Mitre and
Mermaid men! not a corn of true salt, not a grain of right mustard
among them all!’—_Bartholomew Fair_, act i. sc. 1.

“On the 23rd of January, 1661/2 Pepys suffered a strong mortification
of the flesh in having to dine at this tavern with some poor
relations. The sufferings of the snobbish secretary must have been
intense:—

‘By invitation to my uncle Fenner’s, and where I found his new wife,
a _pitiful, old, ugly, ill-bred_ woman in a hatt, a mid-wife. Here
were many of his, and as many of her, relations, _sorry, mean people_;
and after choosing our gloves, we all went over to the Three Cranes
Taverne: {xxvix} and though the best room of the house, in such a
narrow dogghole we were crammed, and I believe we were near 40, that
it made me loath my company and victuals, and a very poor dinner it
was too.’

“Opposite this tavern people generally left their boats to shoot
the bridge, walking round to Billingsgate, where they would reenter
them.”—Hotten’s _History of Signboards_, p. 204.

p. 77. _Saynt Iulyans in Thystellworth parish._ ‘Thistleworth, see
Isleworth,’ says Walker’s Gazetteer, ed. 1801. That there might well
have been a St Julyan’s Inn there we learn from the following extract:

“St. Julian, the patron of travellers, wandering minstrels,
boatmen,[43] &c., was a very common inn sign, because he was supposed
to provide good lodgings for such persons. Hence two St Julian’s
crosses, in saltier, are in chief of the innholders’ arms, and
the old motto was:—‘When I was harbourless, ye lodged me.’ This
benevolent attention to travellers procured him the epithet of ‘the
good herbergeor,’ and in France ‘_bon herbet_.’ His legend in a MS.,
Bodleian, 1596, fol. 4, alludes to this:—

‘Therfore yet to this day, thei that over lond wende,
They biddeth Seint Julian, anon, that gode herborw he hem sende;
And Seint Julianes Pater Noster ofte seggeth also
For his faders soule, and his moderes, that he hem bring therto.’

And in ‘_Le dit de s Heureux_,’ an old French fabliau:—

‘Tu as dit la patenotre
Saint Julian à cest matin,
Soit en Roumans, soit en Latin;
Or tu seras bien ostilé.’

In mediæval French, _L’hotel Saint Julien_ was synonymous with good
cheer.

‘―Sommes tuit vostre.
Par Saint Pierre le bon Apostre,
L’ostel aurez Saint Julien,’

says Mabile to her feigned uncle in the fabliau of ‘_Boivin de
Provins_;’ and a similar idea appears in ‘Cocke Lorell’s bote,’ where
the crew, after the entertainment with the ‘relygyous women’ from the
Stews’ Bank, at Colman’s Hatch,

‘Blessyd theyr shyppe when they had done,
And dranke about a _Saint Julyan’s_ tonne.’
Hotten’s _History of Signboards_,” p. 283.

“Isleworth in Queen Elizabeth’s time was commonly in conversation,
{xxx} and sometimes in records, called Thistleworth.”—Lysons’
_Environs of London_, vol. iii. p. 79.

p. 77. _Rothered_: ? Rotherhithe.

p. 77. _The Kynges Barne_, betwene Detforde and Rothered, can hardly
be the great hall of Eltham palace. Lysons (_Environs of London_, iv.
p. 399) in 1796, says the hall was then used as a barn; and in vol.
vi. of the _Archæologia_, p. 367, it is called “King John’s Barn.”

p. 77. _Ketbroke._ Kidbrooke is marked in large letters on the east
of Blackheath on the mordern Ordnance-map; and on the road from
Blackheath to Eltham are the villages or hamlets of Upper Kidbrooke
and Lower Kidbrooke.

“Kedbrooke lies adjoining to Charlton, on the south side of the London
Road, a small distance from Blackheath. It was antiently written
Cicebroc, and was once a parish of itself, though now (1778 A.D.) it
is esteemed as an appendage to that of Charlton.”—Hasted’s _History of
Kent_, vol. i. p. 40.

p. 100. _Sturbridge Fair._ Stourbridge, or Sturbich, the name of a
common field, extending between Chesterton and Cambridge, near the
little brook Sture, for about half a mile square, is noted for its
fair, which is kept annually on September 19th, and continues a
fortnight. It is surpassed by few fairs in Great Britain, or even in
Europe, for traffic, though of late it is much lessened. The booths
are placed in rows like streets, by the name[s] of which they are
called, as Cheapside, &c., and are filled with all sorts of trades.
The Duddery, an area of 80 or 100 yards square, resembles Blackwell
Hall. Large commissions are negotiated here for all parts of England
in _cheese_, woolen goods, wool, leather, hops, upholsterers’ and
ironmongers’ ware, &c. &c. Sometimes 50 hackney coaches from London,
ply morning and night, to and from Cambridge, as well as all the towns
round, and the very barns and stables are turned into inns for the
accommodation of the poorer people. After the wholesale business is
over, the country gentry generally flock in, laying out their money in
stage-plays, taverns, music-houses, toys, puppet-shows, &c., and the
whole concludes with a day for the sale of horses. This fair is under
the jurisdiction of the University of Cambridge.—_Walker’s Gazetteer_,
ed. 1801. See Index to Brand’s _Antiquities_.

. He was, as I
take it, made Knight of the Bath in the 17th year of K. Henry VII.,
his estate being then certified to be 40⁠_l._ per annum, being the
son of Richard Walden, esq. Sir Richard and Elizabeth his wife both
lie buried here. _MSS. Dering._]

{1}

_THE
Fraternitye of Vacabondes._

As wel of ruflyng Vacabondes, as of beggerly, of
women as of men, of Gyrles as of Boyes,

with

_their proper names and qualities_.

With a description of the crafty company of

Cousoners and Shifters.

¶ Wherunto also is adioyned

the .xxv. Orders of Knaues,

otherwyse called

a Quartern of Knaues.

_Confirmed for euer by Cocke Lorell._

( * )

¶ The Vprightman speaketh.

¶ Our Brotherhood[44] of Vacabondes,
If you would know where dwell:
In graues end Barge which syldome standes,
The talke wyll shew ryght well.

¶ Cocke Lorell aunswereth.

¶ Some orders of my Knaues also
In that Barge shall ye fynde:
For no where shall ye walke I trow,
But ye shall see their kynde.

¶ Imprinted at London by Iohn Awdeley, dwellyng in little
Britayne streete without Aldersgate.
1575.

{2}

]

¶ _The Printer to the Reader._

++THis brotherhood of Vacabondes,
To shew that there be such in deede
Both Iustices and men of Landes,
Wyll testifye it if it neede.
For at a Sessions as they sat,
By chaunce a Vacabond was got.

¶ Who promysde if they would him spare,
And keepe his name from knowledge then:
He would as straunge a thing declare,
As euer they knew synce they were men.
But if my fellowes do know (sayd he)
That thus I dyd, they would kyll me.

¶ They graunting him this his request,
He dyd declare as here is read,
Both names and states of most and least,
Of this their Vacabondes brotherhood.
Which at the request of a worshipful ma_n_
I haue set it forth as well as I can.

FINIS.

{3}

]

¶ _The_

Fraternitye of Vacabondes

both rufling and beggerly,

Men and women, Boyes and Gyrles,

wyth

their proper names and qualities.

Whereunto are adioyned

the company of Cousoners and Shifters.

¶ AN ABRAHAM MAN.

++AN Abraham man is he that walketh bare armed, and bare legged, and
fayneth hym selfe mad, and caryeth a packe of wool, or a stycke with
baken on it, or such lyke toy, and nameth himselfe poore Tom.

¶ A RUFFELER.

A Ruffeler goeth wyth a weapon to seeke seruice, saying he hath bene
a Seruitor in the wars, and beggeth for his reliefe. But his chiefest
trade is to robbe poore wayfaring men and market women.

¶ A PRYGMAN.

A Prygman goeth with a stycke in hys hand like an idle person. His
propertye is to steale cloathes of the hedge, which they call storing
of the Rogeman: or els filtch Poultry, carying them to the Alehouse,
whych they call the Bowsyng In, & ther syt playing at cardes and dice,
tyl that is spent which they haue so fylched. {4}

¶ A WHIPIACKE.

A Whypiacke is one, that by coulor of a counterfaite Lisence (which
they call a Gybe, and the seales they cal Iarckes) doth vse to beg lyke
a Maryner, But hys chiefest trade is to rob Bowthes in a Faire, or to
pilfer ware fro_m_ staules, which they cal heauing of the Bowth.

¶ A FRATER.

A Frater goeth wyth a like Lisence to beg for some Spittlehouse or
Hospital. Their pray is co_m_monly vpo_n_ [leaf 2⁠_b_.] poore women as
they go and come to the Markets.

¶ A QUIRE BIRD.

A Quire bird is one that came lately out of prison, & goeth to seeke
seruice. He is co_m_monly a stealer of Horses, which they terme a
Priggar of Paulfreys.

¶ AN VPRIGHT MAN.

An Vpright man is one that goeth wyth the trunchion of a staffe, which
staffe they cal a Filtchma_n_. This man is of so much authority, that
meeting with any of his profession, he may cal them to accompt, &
co_m_maund a share or snap vnto him selfe, of al that they haue gained
by their trade in one moneth. And if he doo them wrong, they haue no
remedy agaynst hym, no though he beate them, as he vseth co_m_monly to
do. He may also co_m_maund any of their women, which they cal Doxies,
to serue his turne. He hath y_e_ chiefe place at any market walke, &
other assembles, & is not of any be co_n_troled.

¶ A CURTALL.

A Curtall is much like to the Vpright man, but hys authority is not
fully so great. He vseth commonly to go with a short cloke, like to
grey Friers, & his woman with him in like liuery, which he calleth his
Altham if she be hys wyfe, & if she be his harlot, she is called hys
Doxy.

¶ A PALLIARD.

A Palliard is he that goeth in a patched cloke, and hys Doxy goeth in
like apparell. {5}

¶ AN IRISHE TOYLE.

An Irishe toyle is he that carieth his ware in hys wallet, as laces,
pins, poyntes, and such like. He vseth to shew no wares vntill he haue
his almes. And if the good man and wyfe be not in the way, he procureth
of the ch[i]lldre_n_ or seruants a fleece of wool, or the worth of
xij.d. of some other thing, for a peniworth of his wares.

]

¶ A IACK MAN.

A Iackeman is he that can write and reade, and somtime speake latin. He
vseth to make counterfaite licences which they call Gybes, and sets to
Seales, in their language called Iarkes.

¶ A SWYGMAN.

A Swygman goeth with a Pedlers pack.

¶ A WASHMAN.

A Washman is called a Palliard, but not of the right making. He vseth
to lye in the hye way with lame or sore legs or armes to beg. These
me_n_ y_e_ right Pilliards wil often times spoile, but they dare not
co_m_playn. They be bitten with Spickworts, & somtime with rats bane.

¶ A TINKARD.

A Tinkard leaueth his bag a sweating at the Alehouse, which they terme
their Bowsing In, and in the meane season goeth abrode a begging.

¶ A WYLDE ROGE.

A wilde Roge is he that hath no abiding place but by his coulour of
going abrode to beg, is commonly to seeke some kinsman of his, and all
that be of hys corporation be properly called Roges.

¶ A KITCHEN CO.

A Kitchin Co is called an ydle runagate Boy.

¶ A KITCHEN MORTES.

A Kitchin Mortes is a Gyrle, she is brought at her full age to the
Vpryght man to be broken, and so she is called a Doxy, vntil she come
to y_e_ honor of an Altham. {6}

¶ DOXIES.

Note especially all which go abroade working laces and shirt stringes,
they name them Doxies.

¶ A PATRIARKE CO.

A Patriarke Co doth make mariages, & that is vntill [leaf 3⁠_b_.] death
depart the maried folke, which is after this sort: When they come to
a dead Horse or any dead Catell, then they shake hands and so depart
euery one of them a seuerall way.

――――

¶ THE COMPANY OF COUSONERS AND SHIFTERS.

¶ A CURTESY MAN.

A Curtesy man is one that walketh about the back lanes in London in the
day time, and sometime in the broade streetes in the night season, and
when he meeteth some handsome yong man clenly apareled, or some other
honest Citizen, he maketh humble salutatio_n_s and low curtesy, and
sheweth him that he hath a worde or two to speake with his mastership.
This child can behaue him selfe manerly, for he wyll desire him that he
talketh withall, to take the vpper hand, and shew him much reuerence,
and at last like his familier acquaintaunce will put on his cap, and
walke syde by syde, and talke on this fashion: Oh syr, you seeme to be
a man, and one that fauoureth men, and therefore I am the more bolder
to breake my mind vnto your good maistership. Thus it is syr, ther
is a certaine of vs (though I say it both taule and handsome men of
theyr hands) which haue come lately from the wars, and as God knoweth
haue nothing to take to, being both maisterles and moniles, & knowing
no way wherby to yerne one peny. And further, wher as we haue bene
welthely brought vp, and we also haue beene had in good estimatio_n_,
we are a shamed now to declare our misery, and to fall a crauing as
common Beggers, and as for to steale and robbe, (God is our record) it
striketh vs to [leaf 4] the hart, to thinke of such a mischiefe, that
euer any handsome man should fall into such a {7} daunger for thys
worldly trash. Which if we had to suffise our want and necessity, we
should neuer seeke thus shamefastly to craue on such good pityfull men
as you seeme to be, neither yet so daungerously to hasarde our liues
for so vyle a thing. Therefore good syr, as you seeme to be a handsome
man your selfe, and also such a one as pitieth the miserable case of
handsome men, as now your eyes and countenaunce sheweth to haue some
pity vppon this my miserable complainte: So in Gods cause I require
your maistershyp, & in the behalfe of my poore afflicted fellowes,
which though here in sight they cry not with me to you, yet wheresouer
they bee, I am sure they cry vnto God to moue the heartes of some good
men to shew forth their liberality in this behalfe. All which & I with
them craue now the same request at your good masterships hand. With
these or such like words he frameth his talke. Now if the party (which
he thus talketh withall) profereth hym a peny or .ii.d. he taketh it,
but verye scornfully, and at last speaketh on this sorte: Well syr,
your good will is not to be refused. But yet you shall vnderstand (good
syr) that this is nothing for them, for whom I do thus shamefastly
entreate. Alas syr, it is not a groate or .xii.d. I speake for, being
such a company of Seruiters as wee haue bene: yet neuertheles God
forbid I should not receiue your ge_n_tle offer at this time, hoping
hereafter through your good motions to some such lyke good gentleman
as you be, that I, or some of my fellowes in my place, shall finde
the more liberality. These kind of ydle Vacabondes wyll go commonly
well appareled, without [leaf 4 _b_.] any weapon, and in place where
they meete together, as at their hosteryes or other places, they wyll
beare the port of ryght good gentlemen, & some are the more trusted,
but co_m_monly thei pay them w_i_t_h_ stealing a paire of sheetes, or
Couerlet, & so take their farewell earely in the morning, before the
mayster or dame be sturring.

¶ A CHEATOUR OR FINGERER.

These commonly be such kinde of idle Vacabondes as scarcely a man
shall discerne, they go so gorgeously, sometime with waiting men, and
sometime without. Their trade is to walke in such places, where as
gentelmen & other worshipfull Citizens do resorte, as at {8} Poules,
or at Christes Hospital, & somtime at y_e_ Royal exchaunge. These haue
very many acquaintaunces, yea, and for the most part will acquaint them
selues with euery man, and fayne a society, in one place or other.
But chiefly they wil seeke their acquaintaunce of such (which they
haue learned by diligent enquiring where they resort) as haue receyued
some porcioun of money of their friends, as yong Gentlemen which are
sent to London to study the lawes, or els some yong Marchant man or
other kynde of Occupier, whose friendes hath geuen them a stock of
mony[45] to occupy withall. When they haue thus found out such a pray,
they will find the meanes by theyr familiarity, as very curteously
to bid him to breakefast at one place or other, where they are best
acquainted, and closely amonge themselues wil appoint one of their
Fraternity, which they call a Fyngerer, an olde beaten childe, not
onely in such deceites, but also such a one as by his age is painted
out with gray heares, wrinkled face, crooked back, and most commonly
lame, as it might seeme with age, [leaf 5] yea and such a one as to
shew a simplicity, shal weare a homely cloke and hat scarce worth .vi.
d. This nimble fingred knight (being appointed to this place) co_m_meth
in as one not knowen of these Cheatours, but as vnwares shal sit down
at the end of the bord where they syt, & call for his peny pot of
wine, or a pinte of Ale, as the place serueth. Thus sitting as it were
alone, mumblyng on a crust, or some such thing, these other yonckers
wil finde some kind of mery talke with him, some times questioning
wher he dwelleth, & sometimes enquiring what trade he vseth, which
co_m_monly he telleth them he vseth husbandry: & talking thus merely,
at last they aske him, how sayest thou, Father, wylt thou play for thy
breakfast with one of vs, that we may haue some pastime as we syt?
Thys olde Karle makyng it straunge at the first saith: My maysters,
ich am an old man, and halfe blinde, and can skyl of very few games,
yet for that you seeme to be such good Gentelmen, as to profer to play
for that of which you had no part, but onely I my selfe, and therefore
of right ich am worthy to pay for it, I shal with al my hart fulfyl
your request. And so falleth to play, somtime at Cardes, & sometime
at dice. Which through his cou_n_terfait simplicity {9} in the play
somtimes ouer counteth himself, or playeth somtimes against his wyl,
so as he would not, & then counterfaiteth to be angry, and falleth to
swearing, & so leesing that, profereth to play for a shillyng or two.
The other therat hauing good sport, seming to mocke him, falleth againe
to play, and so by their legerdemane, & cou_n_terfaiting, winneth ech
of them a shilling or twain, & at last whispereth the yong man in the
eare to play with hym also, that ech one might haue a fling at him.
[leaf 5⁠_b_.] This yong ma_n_ for company falleth againe to play also
with the sayd Fyngerer, and winneth as the other did which when he had
loste a noble or .vi. s. maketh as though he had lost al his mony, and
falleth a intreating for parte thereof againe to bring him home, which
the other knowing his mind and intent, stoutely denieth and iesteth, &
scoffeth at him. This Fingerer seeming then to be in a rage, desireth
the_m_ as they are true gentlemen, to tarry till he fetcheth more
store of money, or els to point some place where they may meete. They
seeming greedy hereof, promiseth faithfully and clappeth handes so to
meete. They thus ticklyng the young man in the eare, willeth him to
make as much money as he can, and they wil make as much as they can,
and co_n_sent as though they wil play booty against him. But in the
ende they so vse the matter, that both the young man leeseth his part,
and, as it seemeth to him, they leesing theirs also, and so maketh as
though they would fal together by the eares with this fingerer, which
by one wyle or other at last conueyeth him selfe away, & they as it
were raging lyke mad bedlams, one runneth one way, an other an other
way, leauing the loser indeede all alone. Thus these Cheatours at
their accustomed hosteries meete closely together, and there receiue
ech one his part of this their vile spoyle. Of this fraternity there
be that be called helpers, which commonly haunt tauernes or alehouses,
and co_m_meth in as men not acquainted with none in the companye,
but spying them at any game, wil byd them God spede and God be at
their game, and will so place him selfe that he will shew his fellow
by sygnes and tokens, without speech commonly, but sometime with far
fetched [leaf 6] wordes, what cardes he hath in his hand, and how he
may play against him. And those betwene the_m_ both getteth money out
of the others purse.

{10}

¶ A RING FALLER.

A Ryng faller is he that getteth fayre copper rings, some made like
signets, & some after other fashio_n_s, very faire gylded, & walketh
vp and down the streetes, til he spieth some man of the country, or
some other simple body whom he thinketh he may deceaue, and so goeth a
lyttle before him or them, and letteth fall one of these ringes, which
when the party that commeth after spieth and taketh it vp, he hauing an
eye backward, crieth halfe part, the party that taketh it vp, thinking
it to be of great value, profereth him some money for his part, which
he not fully denieth, but willeth him to come into some alehouse or
tauerne, and there they will common vpon the matter. Which when they
come in, and are set in some solitary place (as commonly they call for
such a place) there he desireth the party that found the ring to shew
it him. When he seeth it, he falleth a entreating the party that found
it, and desireth him to take money for his part, and telleth him that
if euer he may do him any frendship hereafter he shal commaund him,
for he maketh as though he were very desirous to haue it. The symple
man seeing him so importune vpon it, thinketh the ring to bee of great
valure, and so is the more lother to part from it. At last this ring
faller asketh him what he will geue him for his part, for, saith he,
seeing you wyl not let me haue the ring, alowe me my part, and take
you the ring. The other asketh what he counteth the ring to be worth,
he answereth, v. or vi. pound. No, saith he, it is not so much worth.
[leaf 6 _b_.] Well (saith this Ringfaller) let me haue it, and I wyll
alow you .xl. s. for your part. The other party standyng in a doubt,
and looking on the ryng, asketh if he wyll geue the money out of hand.
The other answereth, he hath not so much ready mony about him, but he
wil go fetch so much for him, if he wil go with him. The other that
found the ring, thinking he meaneth truly, beginneth to profer him .xx.
s. for his part, sometymes more, or les, which he verye scornfullye
refuseth at the first, and styl entreateth that he might haue the ring,
which maketh the other more fonder of it, and desireth him to take the
money for his part, & so profereth him money. This ring faller seing
y^e mony, maketh it very strau_n_ge, and first questioneth with him
wher he dwelleth, and asketh him {11} what is his name, & telleth him
that he semeth to be an honest man, and therfore he wil do somwhat
for friendships sake, hoping to haue as friendly a pleasure at his
hand hereafter, and so profereth hym for .x. s. more he should haue
the ryng. At last, with entreatye on both partes, he geueth the Ring
faller the money, and so departeth, thinkyng he hath gotten a very
great Iewell. These kynde of deceyuing Vacabondes haue other practises
with their rings, as somtimes to come to buy wares of mens Prentesies,
and somtimes of their Maisters, and when he hath agreed of the price,
he sayth he hath not so much money about him, but pulleth of one of
these rings of from his fyngers, and profereth to leaue it in pawne,
tyl his Maister or his friendes hath sene it, so promising to bring the
money, the seller thinking he meaneth truly, letteth him go, and neuer
seeth him after, tyll perhaps at Tyburne or at such lyke place. Ther is
another kinde of [leaf 7] these Ring choppers, which co_m_monly cary
about them a faire gold ring in deede, and these haue other counterfait
rings made so lyke this gold ring, as ye shal not perceiue the
contrary, tyl it be brought to y^e touchstone. This child wyl come to
borow mony of the right gold ring, the party mistrusting the Ring not
to be good, goeth to the Goldsmith with the partye that hath the ryng,
and tryeth it whether it be good golde, and also wayeth it to know how
much it is worth.