This tale, because it was somewhat misreported before, upon talke had with the poore Cutler himselfe, is set downe now in true forme and manner how it was done, therefore is there no offence offered, when by better consideration, a thing may be enlarged or amended, or at least the note be better confirmed. Let the poore Cutlers mishap example others, that they brag not over hastily of gaine easily gotten, least they chance to pay as deerely for it, as he did.

Of a yoong Nip that cunningly beguiled an antient professor of that trade, and his queane with him, at a play.

A good fellow that was newly entered into the nipping craft, and had not as yet attained to any acquaintance with the chiefe and cunning maisters of that trade: In the Christmas holy-dayes last, came to see a playe at the Bull within Bishops gate, there to take his benefit as time and place would permit him. Not long had hee stayed in the prease, but hee had gotten a yoong mans purse out of his pocket, which when he had, hee stepped into the stable to take out the money, and to conuey away the purse. But looking on his commoditie, hee founde nothing therein but white counters, a thimble and a broken three pence, which belike the fellowe that ought it, had doone of purpose to deceiue the cutpurse withall, or else had plaide at the Cardes for counters, and so carried his winnings about him till his next sitting to playe. Somewhat displeased to be so ouertaken, he looked aside, and spied a lustie youth entring at the doore, and his drab with him; this fellow he had heard to bee one of the finest Nippers about the towne, and euer caried his queane with him, for conueiance when the stratagem was performed: he puts up the counters into the purse againe, and follows close to see some peece of their seruice. Among a companie of seemely men was this lustie companion and his minion gotten, where both they might best beholde the playe, and work for aduantage, and ever this young Nip was next to him, to mark when he should attempt any exployte, standing as it were more then halfe between the cunning Nip and his drab, onely to learne some part of their skill. In short time the deed was performed, but how, the young Nip could not easily discern, only he felt him shift his hand toward his trug, to convey the purse to her, but she being somwhat mindful of the play, because a merriment was then on the stage, gaue no regarde: whereby thinking he had puld her by the coat, hes twicht the young Nip by the cloke, who taking advantage of this offer, put downe his hand and receiued the purse of him: then counting it discourtesse to let him loose al his labour, he softly pluckt the queane by the coate, which shee feeling, and imagining it had beene her companions hand: receiued of him the first purse with the white counters in it. Then fearing least his stay should hinder him, and seeing the other intended to have more purses ere he departed: away goes the young Nip with the purse he got to eastiy, wherein (as I haue heard) was xxvii. shillings and odde mony, which did so much content him, as that he had beguiled so ancient a stander in that profession: what the other thought when he found the purse, and could not gesse howe hee was coosened: I leave to your censures, onely this makes me smile, that one false knave can beguile another, which biddes honest men looke the better to their pursses.

How a Gentleman was craftily deceived of a Chayne of Golde and his pursse, in Paules Church in London.

A Gentleman of the countrey, who (as I have herd since the time of his mishap, whereof I am now to speake) had about halfe a yeere before buryed his wife, and belike thinking wel of some other Gentlewoman, whom hee ment to make account of as his second choice: upon good hope or other wife persuaded, he came up to London to provide himselfe of such necessaries as the Countrey is not usually stored withall. Besides, silkes, veluets, cambrickes and such like, he bought a Chaine of Golde that cost him fiftie and seaven pounds and odde money, whereof because he would have the mayden head or first wearing himselfe, hee presently put it on in the Goldsmiths shop, and so walked therewith about London, as his occasions serued. But let not the Gentleman bee offended, who if this Booke come to his handes, can best auouch the trueth of this discourse, if heere by the ways I blame his rash pride, or simple credulitie: for betweene the one and other, the Chaine hee paide so deere for about ten of the clock in the morning, the Cunny catchers the same day ere night shared amongst them, a matter whereat hee may well greeve and I be sorie, in respect hee is my very good friend: but to the purpose. This Gentleman walking in Paules, with his Chaine faire glittering about his necke, talking with his man about some businesse: was well viewed and regarded by a crewe of Conny-catchers, whose teeth watred at his goodly Chaine, yet knew not how to come by it hanging as it did, and therefore entred into secret conspiration among themselves, if they could not come by all the Chaine, yet how they might make it lighter by halfe a score poundes at the least. Still had they their eyes on the honest Gentleman, who little doubted any such treason intended against his so late bought bargaine: and they hauing laid their plot, ech one to be assistant in this enterprise, saw when the Gentleman dismissed his servant, to go about such affaires as hee had appointed him, himselfe still walking there up and downe the middle Isle. One of these mates, that stood most on his cunning in these exploytes, folowed the serving man foorth of the Church calling him by diuers names, as John, Thomas, William, &c. as though he had knowne his right name, but could not hit on it: which whether he did or no I know not, but wel I wot the seruingman turned back again, and seeing him that called him seemed a Gentleman, booted and cloaked after the newest fashion, came with his hat in his hand to him, saying: Sir, do ye call me? Marie doe I my frend quoth the other, doost not thou serue such a Gentleman? and named one as himselfe pleased. No truely Sir, answered the seruingman, I know not any such Gentleman as you speake of. By my troth replyed the Conny-catcher, I am assured I knew thee and thy Maister, though now I cannot suddenly remember my selfe. The seruingman fearing no harme, yet fitting the humour of this trecherous companion, tolde right his Masters name whome he served, and that his Master was even then walking in Paules. O Gods will (quoth the Cony-catcher, repeating his masters name) a very honest Gentleman, of such a place is he not? naming a shire of the Country: for hee must knowe both name, Country and somtimes what Gentlemen dwell neere the partie that is to bee over reached, ere hee can proceed. No in deede Sir (answered the servingman, with such reverence as it had beene to an honest Gentleman indeed) my Master is of such a place, a mile from such a Towne, and heard by such a knights house: by which report the deceiver was halfe instructed, because though he was ignorant of the fellows Master, yet wel he knew the Country, and the knight named. So crauing pardon that he had mistaken him, he returnes againe into the Church, and the servingman trudgeth about his assigned busines. Being come to the rest of the crew, he appointes one of them (whome he knew to be expert in deed), to take this matter in hand, for him self might not do it, least the servingman should return and know him, he schooled the rest likewise what euery man should do when the pinch came, and changing his cloke with one of his fellowes, walked by himselfe attending the feate: and every one being as ready, the apointed fellow makes his sally foorth, and comming to the Gentleman, calling him by his name, giues him the courtesie and embrace, likewise thanking him for good choere he had at his house, which he did with such seemly behaviour & protestation, as the Gentleman (thinking the other to be no lesse) used like action of kindenesse to him. Now as Country Gentlemen haue many visiters both with neere dwelling neighbours, and freends that iourney from farre, whom they can hardly remember, but some principall one that servus as countenance to the other: so hee not discrediting the cunning mates words, who still at every point alleaged his kinred to the knight neighbor to the Gentleman, which the poore serving man had (doubting no ill) reuealed before, and that both there and at his owne house in hawking time with that knight and other Gentlemen of the countrey he had liberally tasted his kindnes: desiring pardon that he had forgotten him, and offered him the curtesie of the citie. The Conny-catcher excused himselfe for that time, saying, at their next meeting hee would bestow it on him. Then seeming to have espyed his chaine, and commending the fairenes and woorkemanship thereof: saies, I pray ye sir take a litle counsel of a friend, it may be you will returne thankes for it. I wonder quoth he, you dare weare such a costly Jewell so open in sight, which is euen but a baite to entice bad men to adventure time and place for it, and no where sooner then in this cittie, where (I may say to you) are such a number of Connycatchers, Cossoners and such like, that a man can scarecly koepe any thing from them, they have so many reaches and sleights to beguile withall: which a very especiall freend of mine found too true not manye dayes since. Weereupon he tolde a very solemne tale, of villanies and knaveries in his own profession, whereby he reported his freeend had lost a watch of gold; shewing how closely his friend wore it in his bosome, and howe straungely it was gotten from him, that the gentleman by that discourse wared halfe affraid of his chaine. And giving him many thankes for his good warning, presently takes the Chaine from about his necke, and tying it up fast in a handkercher put it up into his sleeue saying. If the Conny-catcher get it heere, let him not spare it. Not a little did the tretcher smile in his sleeue, hearing the rashe securitie, but in deede simplicitie of the Gentleman, and no sooner sawe he it put vp, but presently he counted it sure his owne, by the assistance of his complices, that lay in an ambuscado for the purpose: with embraces and courtesies on either side, the Conny-catcher departs, leaving the gentleman walking there still: whereat the crewe were not a little offended, that he still kept in the Church, and would not goe abroad. Well, at length (belike remembring some businesse) the Gentleman taking leave of an other that talked with him, hasted to go forth at the furthest west doore of Paules, which he that had talked with him, and gave him such counsell perceiuing, hied out of the other doore, and got to the entrance ere hee came foorth, the rest following the gentleman at an inche. As hee was stepping out, the other stept in, and let fall a key, hauing his hat so low ouer his eyes, that he could not well discerne his face, and stooping to take up the keye, kept the Gentleman from going backward or forward, by reason his legge was ouer the threshold. The formost Conny-catcher behind, pretending a quarrell vnto him that stooped, rapping out an oth, and drawing his dagger, saide: Doe I meete the villaine? Nay, he shall not scape me now, and so made offer to strike him.

The gentleman at his standing up, seeing it was he that gaue him such good counsaile, and pretended himselfe his verie friend, but neuer imagining this traine was made for him: stept in his defence, when the other following tript vp his heeles: so that hee and his counsellour were downe together, and two more uppon them, striking with their daggers verie eagerly, marry indeed the gentleman had most of the blowes, and both his handkercher with the chaine, and also his pursse with three and fiftie shillings in it, were taken out of his pocket in this strugling, euen by then man that himself defended.

It was maruellous to behold, how not regarding the Villaines wordes uttered before in the Church, nor thinking uppon the charge about him (which after hee had thus treacherouslye lost unwittingly): he stands pacifiyng them that were not discontented, but onely to beguile him. But they vowing that they would presently go for their weapons, and so to the field, told the Gentleman he laboured but in vaine, for fight they must and would, and so going downe by Paules Chaine, left the gentleman made a Conny going up toward Fleet-street, sorry for his new Counseller and freend, and wishing him good lucke in the fight: which in deede was with nothing but wine pots, for ioy of their late gotten bootie. Neere to Saint Dunstones church the Gentleman remembred himself, and feeling his pocket so light had suddenly more greefe at his hart, then euer happen to him or any man againe. Backe he comes to see if hee could espye anye of them, but they were farre inoughe from him: God send him better hap when he goes next a wooing, and that this his losse may bee a warning to others.

How a cunning knaue got a Truncke well stuffed with linen and certaine parcels of plate out of a Cittizens house, and how the Master of the house holpe the deceiuer to carry away his owne goods.

Within the Cittie of London, dwelleth a worldly man, who hath very great dealing in his trade, and his shoppe very well frequented with customers: had such a shrewd mischance of late by a Conny-catcher, as may well serue for an example to others least they haue the like. A cunning villaine, that had long time haunted this Cittizens house, and gotten many a cheat which he carryed away safely: made it his custome when hee wanted money, to helpe him selfe euer where hee had so often, diuers things he had which were neuer mist, especially such as appertained to the Cittizens trade, but when anye were found wanting, they could not deuise which way they were gone, so pollitiquely this fellow alwayes behaued himselfe, well knew hee what times of greatest businesse this Cittizen had in his trade, and when the shop is moft stored with Chapmen: then would he step up the stares (for there was and is another doore to the house besides that which entreth into the shoppe) and what was next hand came euer away with. One time above the rest, in an evening about Candlemas, when day light shuts in about five of the clocke, hee watched to doe some feate in the house, and seeing the mistresse goe foorth with her maide, the goodman and his folkes very busie in the shop: up the staires he goes as he was wonte to doo, and lifting up the latch of the hall portall doore, saw no body neere to trouble him, when stepping into the next chamber, where the Cittizen and his Wife usually lay, at the beds feete there stood a handsome truncke, wherein was verye good linnen, a faire gilte Salte, two silver French bowles for Wine, two silver drinking pots, a stone Jugge covered with silver, and a doosen of silver spoones. This truncke hee brings to the stayres head, and making fast the doore, againe, drawes it downe the steppes so softlye as hee could, for it was so bigge and heavy, as he could not easilie carry it, hauing it out at the doore, unseene of anye neighbour or any body else, he stood strugling with it to lift it up on the stall, which by reason of the weight trobled him very much. The goodman comming foorth of his shop, to bid a customer or two farwell, made the fellowe affraide he should now bee taken for all togither: but calling his wittes together to escape if he could, he stoode gazing up at the signe belonging to the house, as though hee were desirous to know what signe it was: which the Cittizen perceiving, came to him and asked him what he sought for? I looke for the signe of the blew bell sir, quoth the fellowe, where a gentleman hauing taken a chamber for this tearme time, hath sent me hether with this his Troncke of apparrell: quoth the Citizen I know no such signe in this street, but in the next (naming it) there is such a one indeed, and there dwelleth one that letteth foorth Chambers to Gentlemen. Truly sir quoth the fellowe, thats the house I should goe to, I pray you sir lend me your hand, but to help the Trunck on my back, for I thinking to ease me a while vpon your stall, set it shorte, and now I can hardly get it vp againe. The Cittizen not knowing his owne Trunke, but indeede neuer thinking on any such notable deceite: helps him vp with the Trunke, and so sends him away roundly with his owne goods. When the Truncke was mist, I leaue to your conceits what housholde greefe there was on all sides, especially the goodman himselfe, who remembring how he helpt the fellow vp with a Trunke, perceiued that heereby hee had beguiled himselfe, and loste more then in haste hee should recouer againe. Howe this may admonish others, I leaue to the iudgement of the indifferent opinion, that see when honest meaning is so craftily beleagerd, as good foresight must bee vsed to preuent such daungers.

How a Broker was cunningly ouer-reached by as craftie a knaue as himselfe, and brought in danger of the Gallowes.