made light of the matter, and, as one in a rage, called her maid to her and said: Come on, wench, seeing thy maister, mad with jelousie, hath set the house and al my living on fire, I will be revengd on him: help me heer to lift this old chest where all his writings and deeds are; let that burne first, and as soon I see that on fire I will walke towards my freends, for the old foole will be beggard, and I will refuse him. Mutio, that knew al his obligations and statutes lay there, puld her back, and bad two of his men carry the chest into the feeld, and see it were safe, himselfe standing by and seeing his house burnd downe sticke and stone. Then, quieted in his minde, he went home with his wife, and began to flatter her, thinking assuredly that he had burnt her paramour, causing his chest to be carried in a cart to his house in Pisa. Margaret, impatient, went to her mother's and complained to her and her brethren of the jealousie of her husband, who maintaned her it be true, and desired but a daies respite to proove it.

Wel, hee was bidden to supper the next night at her mother's, she thinking to make her daughter and him freends againe. In the meane time he to his woonted walk in the church, and there, præter expectationem, he found Lionello walking. Wondring at this, he straight enquires what newes. What newes, Maister Doctor, quoth he, and he fell in a great laughing; in faith yesterday I scapt a scouring, for syrrha, I went to the grangehouse, where I was appointed to come, and I was no sooner gotten up the chamber, but the magicall villeine, her husband, beset the house with bils and staves, and that he might be sure no seeling nor corner should shrowde me, he set the house on fire, and so burnt it down to the ground. Why, quoth Mutio, and how did you escape? Alas, quoth he, wel fare a woman's wit; she conveighed me into an old chest full of writings, which she knew her husband durst not burne, and so was I saved and brought to Pisa, and yesternight, by her maide, let home to my lodging. This, quoth he, is the pleasantest jest that ever I heard; and upon this I have a sute to you; I am this night

bidden foorth to supper, you shall be my guest, onelye I will crave so much favour, as after supper for a pleasant sporte, to make relation what successe you have had in your loves. For that I will not sticke, quoth he, and so he conveyed Lionello to his mother-in-lawe's house with him, and discovered to his wive's brethren who he was, and how at supper he would disclose the whole matter; For, quoth he, he knowes not that I am Margaret's husband. At this all the brethren bad him welcome, and so did the mother to, and Margaret, she was kept out of sight. Supper time being come they fell to their victals, and Lionello was carrowst unto by Mutio, who was very pleasant, to drawe him into a merry humor, that he might to the ful discourse the effect and fortunes of his love. Supper being ended, Mutio requested him to tel to the gentlemen what had hapned between him and his mistresse. Lionello, with a smiling countenance, began to describe his mistresse, the house and street where she dwelt, how he fell in love with her, and how he used the councell of this doctor, who in all his affaires was his secretarye. Margaret heard all this with a great feare, and when he came to the last point, she caused a cup of wine to be given him by one of her sisters, wherein was a ring that he had given Margaret. As he had told how he had escapt burning, and was ready to confirme all for a troth, the gentlewoman drunke to him, who taking the cup and seeing the ring, having a quick wit and a reaching head, spide the fetch, and perceived that all this while this was his lover's husband to whome hee had revealed these escapes; at this drinking the wine, and swallowing the ring into his mouth, he went forward.

Gentlemen, quoth he, how like you of my loves and my fortunes? Wel, quoth the gentlemen. I pray you is it true? As true, quoth he, as if I would be so simple as to reveal what I did to Margaret's husband; for know you, gentlemen, that I knew this Mutio to be her husband whom I notified to be my lover; and for that he was generally known through Pisa to be a jealous fool, therefore, with these tales I brought him into

this paradice, which indeed are follies of mine own braine; for trust me, by the faith of a gentleman, I never spake to the woman, was never in her companye, neyther doo I know her if I see her. At this they all fell in a laughing at Mutio, who was ashamde that Lionello had so scoft him. But all was well; they were made friends; but the jest went so to his hart that he shortly after died, and Lionello enjoyed the ladye; and for that they two were the death of the old man, now are they plagued in purgatory, and he whips them with nettles.

Assoone as I had passed over these two of Pisa, I looked about and saw many more, as mad and pleasant as the rest: but my time was come that I must to the judge to be censured what punishment I should have for myself for al the mad wanton tricks that I did when I was alive. Faith, and because they knew I was a boone companion, they appointed that I should sit and play jigs al day on my tabor to the ghosts without cesing, which hath brought me into such use, that I now play far better than when I was alive; for proof thou shalt hear a hornpipe; with that, putting his pipe to his mouth, the first stroke he struck I started, and with that I waked, and saw such concourse of people through the fields, that I knew the play was doon; wherupon, rising up, and smiling at my dream, after supper took my pen, and as neer as I could set it down, but not halfe so plesantly as he spoke it; but, howsoever, take it in good part, and so farewell.

FINIS.

APPENDIX.

No. 1.

[Extracts from "The Cobler of Canterburie," an answer to, or rather, as the title-page has it, an invective against "The News out of Purgatorie." The edition here used is that of 1608; only one copy of which being known to exist, I have followed the original more minutely than usual, retaining the u and v in their old-fashioned places, a method I have not adopted in the other tracts, and perhaps hardly necessary in the present instance.]

The Cobler of Canterburie. Or An inuective against Tarltons Newes out of Purgatorie. A merrier Iest then a Clownes Iigge, and fitter for Gentlemens humors. Published with the cost of a Dickar of Cowhides. London, Printed by Nicholas Okes for Nathaniel Butter, and are to be sold at the signe of the pide Bull neere to Saint Austins gate. 1608. (Sm. 4to.)

The Coblers Epistle to the Gentlemen Readers.

A Hall, a Hall, Gentlemen: roome for a Cobler, here comes the quaintest Squire in all Kent; The Cobler of Canterburie, armed with his Aull, his Lingell, and his Last, presents himselfe a iudiciall Censor of other mens writings: but me thinks for my sawcinesse, I hear Apelles boy crying, Ne Sutor vltra crepidam. If I do see his maister mend the fault in the legge, Ile abide their frumpes, and when he hath done, Ile say, this had not been corrected but for the Cobler. Becomes not many a Tinkar a tall Pratler? and haue not men of my trade waded so deepe in the secrets of Theologie that they haue sought to correct Magnificat?