HOW THE WELSHMAN DYD DESYRE SKELTON TO AYDE HIM IN HYS SUTE TO THE KYNGE FOR A PATENT TO SELL DRYNKE
Skelton, when he was in London went to the kynge’s courte, where there dyd come to him a Welshman saying, “Syr, it is so that many dooth come upp of my country to the kynge’s court, and some doth get of the kynge by a patent a castell, and some a parke, and some a forest, and some one fee and some another, and they doe lyve lyke honest men, and I should lyve as honestly as the best, if I might have a patent for good drynke, wherefore I dooe praye you to write a fewe woords for me in a lytle byll to geve the same to the kynge’s handes, and I will geve you well for your laboure. I am contented sayde Skelton. Syte downe, then, sayd the Welshman and write. What shall I wryte? sayde Skelton. The Welshman said wryte “dryncke.” Nowe sayde the Welshman wryte “more dryncke.” What nowe? said Skelton. Wryte now “A great deale of dryncke.” Nowe sayd the Welshman putte to all thys dryncke “A littell crome of breade, and a great déale of dryncke to it,” and reade once again. Skelton dyd reade “Dryncke, more dryncke, and a great deale of dryncke and a lytle crome of breade and a great deale of dryncke to it.” Then the Welshman sayde Put oute the litle crome of breade, and sette in all dryncke and no breade. And if I myght have thys sygned of the kynge, sayde the Welshman, I care for no more as long as I lyve. Well, then, sayde Skelton, when you have thys sygned of the kynge then will I labour for a patent to have bread, that you wyth your dryncke and I with the bread may fare well, and seeke our livinge with bagge and staffe.
Here Begynneth Certayne Merye Tales of Skelton, Poet Lauriat
HOW SKELTON CAME LATE HOME TO OXFORD FROM ABINGTON
Skelton was an Englysheman borne as Skogyn was, and hee was educated & broughte up in Oxfoorde: and there was he made a poete lauriat. And on a tyme he had ben at Abbington to make mery, wher that he had eate salte meates, and hee did com late home to Oxforde, and he did lye in an ine named ye Tabere whyche is now the Angell, and hee dyd drynke, & went to bed. About midnight he was so thyrstie or drye that hee was constrained to call to the tapster for drynke, & the tapster harde him not. Then hee cryed to hys oste & hys ostes, and to the ostler, for drinke; and no man wold here hym. Alacke, sayd Skelton, I shall peryshe for lacke of drynke! what reamedye? At the last he dyd crie out and sayd: Fyer, fyer, fyer! when Skelton hard euery man bustle hymselfe upward, & some of them were naked, & some were halfe asleepe and amased, and Skelton dyd crye: Fier, fier! styll, that everye man knewe not whether to resorte. Skelton did go to bed, and the oste and ostis, & the tapster with the ostler, dyd runne to Skeltons chamber with candles lyghted in theyr handes, saying: where, where, where is the fyer? Here, here, here, said Skelton, & poynted hys fynger to hys moouth, saying: fetch me some drynke to quenche the fyer and the heate and the drinesse in my mouthe: & so they dyd. Wherfore it is good for everye man to helpe hys owne selfe in tyme of neede wythe some policie or crafte, so bee it there bee no deceit nor falshed used.
The Jests of Scogin
HOW JACKE BY SOPHISTRY WOULD MAKE OF TWO EGGS THREE
Scogin on a tyme had two egs to his breakfast, and Jack his scholler should rost them; and as they were rosting, Scogin went to the fire to warme him. And as the egs were rosting, Jacke said: sir, I can by sophistry prove that here be three egs. Let me se that, said Scogin. I shall tel you, sir, said Jack. Is not here one? Yes, said Scogin. And is not here two? Yes, said Scogin; of that I am sure. Then Jack did tell the first egge againe, saying: is not this the third? O, said Scogin, Jack, thou art a good sophister; wel, said Scogin, these two eggs shall serve me for my breakfast, and take thou the third for thy labour and for the herring that thou didst give mee the last day. So one good turne doth aske another, and to deceive him that goeth about to deceive is no deceit.
This is a very common story. It is, in a slightly varied form, No. 67 of A C Mery Tales, and Johnson has introduced it into The Pleasant Conceits of Old Hobson, the Merry Londoner, 1607.
HOW SCOGIN SOLD POWDER TO KILL FLEAS
Scogin divers times did lacke money, and could not tell what shift to make. At last, he thought to play the physician, and did fill a box full of the powder of a rotten post; and on a Sunday he went to a Parish Church, and told the wives that hee had a powder to kil up all the fleas in the country, and every wife bought a pennyworth; and Scogin went his way, ere Masse was done. The wives went home, and cast the powder into their beds and in their chambers, and the fleas continued still. On a time, Scogin came to the same Church on a sunday, and when the wives had espied him, the one said to the other: this is he that deceived us with the powder to kill fleas; see, said the one to the other, this is the selfe-same person. When Masse was done, the wives gathered about Scogin, and said: you be an honest man to deceive us with the powder to kill fleas. Why, said Scogin, are not your fleas all dead? We have more now (said they) than ever we had. I marvell of that, said Scogin, I am sure you did not use the medicine as you should have done. They said: wee did cast it in our beds and in our chambers. I, said he, there be a sort of fooles that will buy a thing, and will not aske what they should doe with it. I tell you all, that you should have taken every flea by the neck, and then they would gape; and then you should have cast a little of the powder into every flea’s mouth, and so you should have killed them all. Then said the wives: we have not onely lost our money, but we are mocked for our labour.