Printed by E. A. for Nicholas Ling, and are to be
solde at his shop at the west doore of Saint
Paules Church 1600.
To the true Ennobled Lady, and his most bountifull Mistris, [Mistris Anne Fitton, Mayde of Honour to the most sacred Mayde, Royall Queene Elizabeth.]
Honorable Mistris, in the waine of my litle wit I am forst to desire your protection, else euery Ballad-singer will proclaime me bankrupt of honesty. A [sort] of mad fellows, seeing me merrily dispos’d in a Morrice, haue so bepainted mee in print since my gambols began from London to Norwich, that (hauing but an ill face before) I shall appeare to the world without a face, if your fayre hand wipe not away their foule coulors. One hath written Kemps farewell to the tune of [Kery, mery, Buffe;] another, His desperate daungers in his late trauaile; the third, His entertainement to New-Market; which towne I came neuer neere by the length of halfe the heath. Some sweare, in a [Trenchmore] I haue trode a good way to winne the world; others that guesse righter, affirme, I haue without good help daunst my selfe out of the world; many say many thinges that were neuer thought. But, in a word, your poore seruant offers the truth of his progresse and profit to your honorable view: receiue it, I beseech you, such as it is, rude and plaine; for I know your pure iudgement lookes as soone to see beauty in a Blackamoore, or heare smooth speech from a Stammerer, as to finde any thing but blunt mirth in a Morrice dauncer, especially such a one as Will Kemp, that hath spent his life in mad [Iigges] and merry iestes. Three reasons mooue mee to make publik this iourney: one to reproue lying fooles I neuer knew; the other to cōmend louing friends, which by the way I daily found; the third to shew my duety to your honorable selfe, whose fauours (among other bountifull friends) makes me (dispight of this sad world) iudge my hart Corke and my heeles feathers, so that me thinkes [I could flye to Rome (at least hop to Rome, as the olde Prouerb is) with a morter on my head.] In which light conceite I lowly begge pardon and leaue, for my Tabrer strikes his [huntsup], I must to Norvvich: Imagine, noble Mistris, I am now setting from my Lord Mayors, the houre about seauen, the morning gloomy, the company many, my hart merry.
Your worthy Ladiships most
vnworthy seruant,
WILLIAM KEMP.
KEMPS NINE DAIES WONDER,
PERFORMED IN A MORRICE FROM LONDON TO NORWICH.
Wherein euery dayes iourney is pleasantly set downe, to satisfie his friends the truth against all lying Ballad-makers; what he did, how hee was welcome, and by whome entertained.
The first daies iourney, being the first Munday in cleane Lent, from the right honorable the Lord Mayors of London.
The first mundaye in Lent, the close morning promising a cleere day, (attended on by [Thomas Slye] my Taberer, William Bee my seruant, and George Sprat, appointed for my ouerseer, that I should take no other ease but my prescribed order) my selfe, thats I, otherwise called Caualiero Kemp, head-master of Morrice-dauncers, high Head-borough of heighs, and onely tricker of your Trill-lilles and best [bel-shangles] betweene Sion and mount Surrey,[3:1] began frolickly to foote it from the right honorable the Lord Mayors of London towards the right worshipfull (and truely bountifull) Master Mayors of Norwich.