The second dayes iourney, beeing Thursday of the first weeke.
Thursday being Market day at Burnt-wood, Tom Slye was earlyer up then the Lark, and sounded merrily the Morrice: I rowsed my selfe, and returned from Romford to the place wher I tooke horse the first night, dauncing that quarter of a myle backe againe thorow Romford, and so merily to Burnt-wood. Yet, now I remember it well, I had no great cause of mirth, for at Romford townes end I strained my hip, and for a time indured exceeding paine; but being loath to trouble a Surgeon, I held on, finding remedy by labour that had hurt mee, for it came in a turne, and so in my daunce I turned it out of my seruice againe.
The multitudes were so great at my comming to Burntwood, that I had much a doe (though I made many intreaties and staies) to get passage to my Inne.
In this towne two Cut-purses were taken, that with other two of their companions followed mee from Lōdon (as many better disposed persons did): but these two [dy-doppers] gaue out when they were apprehended, that they had laid wagers and betted about my iourney; wherupon the Officers bringing them to my Inne, I iustly denyed their acquaintance, sauing that I remembred one of them to be .
This fellow, and his half-brother, being found with the deed, were sent to Iayle: their other two consorts had the charity of the towne, and after a dance of [Trenchmore] at the whipping crosse, they were sent backe to London, where I am afraide there are too many of their occupation. To bee short, I thought myselfe well rid of foure such followers, and I wish hartily that the whole world were cleer of such [companions].
Hauing rested well at Burntwood, the Moone shining clearely, and the weather being calme, in the euening I tript it to Ingerstone, stealing away from those numbers of people that followed mee; yet doe I what I could, I had aboue fiftie in the company, some of London, the other of the Country thereabout, that would needs, when they heard my Taber, trudge after me through thicke and thin.
The third dayes iourney, being Friday of the first weeke.
On Friday morning I set forward towardes Chelmsford, not hauing past two hundred, being the least company that I had in the day-time betweene London and that place. Onward I went, thus easily followed, till I come to Witford-bridge, where a number of country people, and many Gentlemen and Gentlewomen were gathered together to see mee. [Sir Thomas Mildmay, standing at his Parke pale], receiued gently a payre of garters of me; gloues, [points], and garters, [being my ordinary marchandize, that I put out to venter for performance of my merry voyage].
So much a doe I had to passe by the people at Chelmsford, that it was more than an houre ere I could recouer my Inne gate, where I was faine to locke my selfe in my Chamber, and pacifie them with wordes out of a window insteed of deeds: to deale plainely, I was so weary, that I could dance no more.
The next morning I footed it three myle of my way toward Braintree, but returned backe againe to Chelmsford, where I lay that Satterday and the next Sunday. The good cheere and kinde welcome I had at Chelmsford was much more than I was willing to entertaine; for my onely desire was to refraine drinke and be temperate in my dyet.
At Chelmsford, a Mayde not passing foureteene yeares of age, dwelling with one Sudley, my kinde friend, made request to her Master and Dame that she might daunce the Morrice with me in a great large roome. They being intreated, I was soone wonne to fit her with [bels]; besides she would haue [the olde fashion, with napking on her armes]; and to our iumps we fell. A whole houre she held out; but then being ready to lye downe I left her off; but thus much in her praise, I would haue challenged the strongest man in Chelmsford, and amongst many I thinke few would haue done so much.
The fourth dayes iourney, beeing Munday of the second weeke.
On Munday morning, very early, I rid the 3 myles that I daunst the satterday before; where alighting, my Taberer strucke up, and lightly I tript forward; but I had the heauiest way that euer mad Morrice-dancer trod; yet,
With hey and ho, through thicke and thin,
[The hobby horse quite forgotten],
I follow’d, as I did begin,
Although the way were rotten.
This foule way I could finde no ease in, thicke woods being on eyther side the lane; the lane likewise being full of deep holes, sometimes I skipt vp to the waste; but it is an old Prouerb, that it is a little comfort to the miserable to haue companions, and amidst this miry way I had some mirth by an vnlookt for accident.
It was the custome of honest Country fellows, my vnknowne friends, upon hearing of my Pype (which might well be heard in a still morning or euening a myle), to get vp and beare mee company a little way. In this foule way two pretty plaine youthes watcht me, and with their kindnes somewhat hindred me. One, a fine light fellow, would be still before me, the other euer at my heeles. At length, comming to a broad [plash] of water and mud, which could not be auoyded, I fetcht a rise, yet fell in ouer the anckles at the further end. My youth that follow’d me tooke his iump, and stuck fast in the midst, crying out to his companion, “Come, George, call yee this dauncing? Ile goe no further,” for, indeede hee could goe no further, till his fellow was faine to wade and help him out. I could not chuse but lough to see howe like two frogges they laboured: a hartye farwell I gaue them, and they faintly bad God speed me, saying if I daunst that durtie way this seauen yeares againe, they would neuer daunce after me.
Well, with much a doo I got unto Braintree by noone, tarried there Munday night and the next day; onely I daunst three miles on Tewsday, to ease my Wednesdaies iourney.
If I should deny that I was welcome at Braintree, I should slander an honest crew of kind men, among whome I far’d well, slept well, and was euery way well usde.