¶ This hollowe hosteler toke his staffe in his necke, and trodged out apase that waye he sawe him before go, and had some vnderstanding, by one of the maydens, that his mistres had her whistell stolen and suspected her sonne; and he had not gone farre but that he espyed him comming homeward alone, and, meting him, axed where he had ben. [leaf 19, back] “Where haue I bene?” quoth he, and began to smyle. “Now, by the mas, thou hast bene at some baudy banquet.” “Thou hast euen tolde trouth,” quoth thys chamberlayne. “Sewerly,” quoth this hosteler, “thou haddest the same woman that begged at our house to day, for the harmes she had by fyre: where is she?” quoth he. “She is almost a myle by this tyme,” quoth this chamberlayne. “Where is my mystres whystell?” quoth this hosteler; “for I am well assured that thou haddest it, and I feare me thou hast geuen it to that harlot.” “Why! is it myssed?” quoth this chamberlayne. “Yea,” quoth this hosteler, and shewed him all the hole circumstaunce, what was both sayde and thought on him for the thing. “Well, I wyl tell the,” quoth this Chamberlayne. “I wylbe playne with the. I had it in dede, and haue geuen the same to this woman, and I praye the make the best of it, and helpe nowe to excuse the matter, and yet surely and thou wouldest take so much payne for me as to ouer take her, (for she goeth but softly, and is not yet farre of) and take the same from her, and I am euer thyne assured fréende.” “Why, then, go with me,” quoth this hostler. “Nay, in faythe,” quoth this Chamberlayne; “what is frear then gift? and I hadde prety pastime for the same.” “Hadest thou so?” quoth this hosteler; “nowe, by the masse, and I wyll haue some to, or I wyll lye in the duste or I come agayne.” Passing with hast to ouer take this paramoure, within a myle from the place where he departed he ouertoke her, hauing an vpright man in her company, a stronge and a sturdye vacabond: some what amased was this hosteler to se one familiarly in her company, for he had well hopped to haue had some delycate dalyance, as his fellowe hadde; but, seinge the matter so fallout, and being of {64} good corage, and thinking to him selfe that one true man was better then two false knaues, and being on the high way, thought vpon helpe, if nede had bene, by such as had passed to and fro, Demaunded fersely the whistell that she had euyn nowe of his fellowe. “Why, husband,” quoth she, “can you suffer this wretche to slaunder your wyfe?” “A vaunt verlet,” quoth this vpright man, and letes dryue with all his force at this hosteler, and after halfe[133] a dosen blowes, he strycks his staffe out of his hande, and as this hosteler stept backe to haue taken vp his staffe agayne, his glymmeringe Morte flinges a great stone at him, and strake him one the heade that downe hee fales, wyth the bloud about his eares, and whyle hée laye this amased, the vpright man snatches awaye his pursse, where in hée hadde money of his mystresses as well as of his owne, and there let him lye, and went a waye with spede that they were neuer harde of more. When this drye beaten hosteler was come to him selfe, hée fayntlye wandereth home, and crepethe in to hys couche, and restes [leaf 20] his ydle heade: his mystres harde that hée was come in, and layde him downe on his beade, repayred straight vnto him, and aske hym what he ayled, and what the cause was of his so sudden lying one his bed. “What is the cause?” quoth this hosteler; “your whystell, your whistel,”—speaking the same pyteouslye thre or foure tymes. “Why, fole,” quoth his mystrisse, “take no care for that, for I doe not greatly waye it; it was worth but thrée shyllinges foure pens.” “I would it had bene burnt for foure yeares agon.” “I praye the why so,” quoth his mystres; “I think thou art mad.” “Nay, not yet,” quoth this hosteler, “but I haue bene madly handlyd.” “Why, what is the matter?” quoth his mystres, and was more desirous to know the case. “And you wyl for geue my fellowe and me, I wyll shewe you, or els I wyll neuer doe it.” Shée made hym presently faithfull promisse that shée woulde. “Then,” saythe hee, “sende for your sonne home agayne, whyche is ashamed to loke you in the face.” “I agre there to,” sayth shée. “Well, then,” quoth this hosteler, “youre sonne hathe geuen the same Morte that begged here, for the burninge of her house, a whystell, and you haue geuen her v. shyllinges in money, {65} and I haue geuen her ten shyllinges of my owne.” “Why, howe so?” quoth she. Then he sadly shewed her of his myshap, with all the circumstaunce that you haue harde before, and howe hys pursse was taken awaye, and xv. shyllinges in the same, where of v. shyllinges was her money and x. shyllinges his owne money. “Is this true?” quoth his mystres. “I, by my trouth,” quoth this hosteler, “and nothing greues me so much, neyther my beating, neither the losse of my money, as doth my euell and wreched lucke.” “Why, what is the matter?” quoth his mystres. “Your sonne,” saythe this hosteler, “had some chere and pastyme for that whystell, for he laye with her, and I haue bene well beaten, and haue had my pursse taken from me, and you knowe your sonne is merrye and pleasaunt, and can kepe no great councell; and then shall I bemocked and loughed to skorne in all places when they shall here howe I haue bene serued.” “Nowe, out vpon you knaues both,” quoth his mystres, and laughes oute the matter; for she well sawe it would not other wyse preuayle.
[133] Omitted in 1573
¶ A BAWDY BASKET. Cap. 17.
Hese Bawdy baskets be also wemen, and go with baskets and Capcases on their armes, where in they haue laces, pynnes, nedles, white ynkell, and round sylke gyrdles of al coulours. These wyl bye conneyskins,[134] and steale linen clothes of on hedges. And for their trifles they wil procure of mayden seruaunts, when [leaf 20, back] their mystres or dame is oute of the waye, either some good peece of béefe, baken, or chéese, that shalbe worth xij. pens, for ii. pens of their toyes. And as they walke by the waye, they often gaine some money wyth their instrument, by such as they sodaynely mete withall. The vpright men haue good acquayntance with these, and will helpe and relieue them when they want. Thus they trade their lyues in lewed lothsome lechery. Amongest them all is but one honest woman, and she is of good yeares; her name is Ione Messenger. I haue had good proofe of her, as I haue learned by the true report of diuers.
[134] Rabbitskins
{66}
There came to my gate the last sommer, Anno Domini .1566, a very miserable man, and much deformed, as burnt in the } face, blere eyde, and lame of one of his legges that he went with a crouche. I axed him wher he was borne, and where he dwelt last, and shewed him that thether he must repaire and be releued, and not to range aboute the countrey; and seing some cause of cherytie, I caused him to haue meate and drinke, and when he had dronke, I demaunded of him whether he was neuer spoyled of the vpright man or Roge. “Yes, that I haue,” quoth he, “and not this seuen yeres, for so long I haue gon abroad, I had not so much taken from me, and so euyll handeled, as I was within these iiij. dayes.” “Why, how so?” quoth I. “In good fayth, sir,” quoth hée, “I chaunced to méete with one of these bawdy baskets which had an vpright man in her company, and as I would haue passed quietly by her, ‘man,’ sayth she vnto vnto her make, ‘do you not se this ylfauored, windshaken knaue?’ ‘Yes,’ quoth the vpright man; ‘what saye you to him?’ ‘this knaue[135] oweth me ii. shyllings for wares that[136] he had of me, halfe a yere a go, I think it well.’ Sayth this vpright man, ‘syra,’ sayth he, ‘paye your dets.’ Sayth this poore man, ‘I owe her none, nether dyd I euer bargane with her for any thinge, and as this[137] aduysed I neuer sawe her before in all my lyfe.’ ‘Mercy, god!’ quoth she, ‘what a lyinge knaue is this, and he wil not paye you, husband, beat him suerly,’ and the vpright man gaue me thre or foure blowes on my backe and shoulders, and would haue beat me worsse and I had not geuen hym all the money in my pursse, and in good fayth, for very feare, I was fayne to geue him xiiij. pens, which was all the money that I had. ‘Why,’ sayth this bawdy basket, ‘hast thou no more? then thou owest me ten pens styll; and, be well assured that I wyll bée payde the next tyme I méete with thée.’ And so they let me passe by them. I praye god saue and blesse me, and al other in my case, from such wycked persons,” quoth this poore man. “Why, whether went they then?” quoth I. “Into east Kent, for I mete with them on thyssyde of Rochester. I haue dyuers tymes bene attemted, but {67} I neuer loste [leaf 21] much before. I thanke god, there came styll company by a fore this vnhappy time.” “Well,” quoth I, “thanke God of all, and repaire home into thy natyue countrey.”