THE PROVERBS OF JOHN HEYWOOD.
" Then doth he licke his lippes and stroke his beard,
That's glewed together with his slavering droppes
Of yestie ale, and when he scarce can trim
His goutie fingers thus hee'l fillip it,
And with a rotten hem, say ' hey, my hearts !'
Merrie go sorrie ! cocke and pye, my heart ! '
But then their saving pennie proverbe comes."
Two Angry Women ofAbingtont 1599.
THE PROVERBS OF JOHN HEYWOOD.
BEING THE "PROVERBES" OF THAT
AUTHOR PRINTED 1546.
EDITED, WITH NOTES AND INTRODUCTION,
BY JULIAN SHARMAN.
LONDON:
GEORGE BELL AND SONS, YORK STREET,
COVENT GARDEN.
1874.
AND WILKINS,
TO MY FRIEND,
BOURCHIER F. HAWKSLEY, ESQ.,
THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED.
4324G1
INTRODUCTION.
| HE traditions of old Saxon literature had never been obliterated by rust or utterly defaced by invasion; even after the toll of the curfew, there yet lingered round the Saxon embers the homely folk-speech of Jutes and Angles. But the hidden graces of that English tongue no English Aristotle had attempted to uncover. No earlier Erasmus had arisen to restore the gems of speech and learning ; no English Quintilian to knit the scattered threads of idiom together. Everywhere where the English independence was subjected, was the English language as effectually despised.
INTRODUCTION.
Yet the Norman in proscribing the ancient literature could hardly hope to extirpate the ancient ways of thought. Still less could he hope to interrupt that flow of tears and laughter, the pathos and the humour which proceed from thought. We know that what- ever _was memorable or captivating in the old-world literature was accustomed to be recited, until the sense of property in such compositions becoming gradually lost, that grew to be the wit of many which had formerly been the wisdom of one. Such perpetual assumption of authorship would have been in itself sufficient to protect that verbal literature from desuetude, even had not the professional farceur worked mightily towards its preservation. The shrewd maxims of their Saxon forefathers had indeed been given over to the use of the meanest of the people's literary caterers, and as the common stock of glee-men and ale-poets, still continued to mingle with mirth and revel as they had done since the days of the Heptarchy. But in the popular adherence to the old charms of. speech, we think we perceive a restless importunity to bestow, as it were, upon a fitting recipient that priceless heirloom vener- able by reverence and by antiquity. Antiquity was dead, but not without issue. Already patient monas- tics had begun to embalm the decaying Saxon saws
INTRODUCTION. ix
and sentences in hideous cerements of rhyming Latin ; and to the antiquary who to-day unravels the leonine verses they have wrought for us, will stand revealed the sprightly sayings of mediaeval England. In this process we are reminded of nothing so much as the account given by our first Arctic navigator of the prodigious thawing of words and consonants that had long remained congealed in the atmosphere during the winter nights. In the wintry night of the Norman conquest, the direction of the English mind was one long effort to perpetuate and to transmit the pith and saltness of its bygone literature. An arm is stretched out, as it were, across three centuries — the heirloom so often proffered is as often refused — until the chattel at last is seized, and that by the hand of Chaucer. It might be idle to assert for an object so immaterial so definite a claim to antiquity, but wre are not unwilling to believe that the same vein of wit and cunning which gives vitality to essen- tially English pages, from a Chaucer to a Dickens, is part and parcel of the very mine of wisdom whose produce the followers of Hengist bore away from Old Saxony.
But the soil wherein the Saxon stem was planted may still perhaps be bearing herbage of a widely dif- ferent undergrowth. The doctrines of the Druids,
x INTRODUCTION.
preserved only by verbal narration, did not altogether perish at the destruction of the Druidic priesthood. In the maxims of Old Gaul and in the cherished sayings of Wales and Cornwall, some little of that traditional wisdom remains. The proverbial triads of the Cymri still perpetuate some facts of history. That the settlers from the " Summer Land," — from the Tauric Chersonese, — descended here upon these islands is recorded in the Druidic triads. That they recoiled before the invasions of Romans and of Irishmen is there also deplored ; and together with these his- torical relics are mingled an abundant crop of Druidic maxims, the condensation of ancient British thought.
Another, and undeniably the merriest contributor, has contributed to the proverbial store-house. Two centuries previously, we read that a Duke of Normandy had sent a son to Bayeux to learn Danish ; under the earlier Plantagenets, the young Norman aristocracy might have visited England to learn French. The humbler Englishman may have possessed little apti- tude for acquiring the Norman speech, but even the Gurths and Wambas of the time could not fail to be attracted by the light and sparkle which glittered on the surface of the smoother tongue. If the Norman was the best sayer of fine things ; the Englishman
INTRODUCTION. xi
was incomparably the best hearer of them. When the smack of novelty had once passed away, those crumbs of merriment which the Frenchman discarded were by the other gratefully retained. In truth the palate of the Norman was gratified only by the crispness and the unexpectedness of the saying. It was the Englishman alone who was capable of luxuriating in its perfect infinity of application. But what wonderful resources were displayed by the Norman mind ! The Saxon could look only to his glebe or his farmyard for a simile. The Frenchman had the run of the tavern, the boothie, and the play- house ; he brought away dainty morsels from the convent-cell ; he imported curious scholar-talk from Paris and Montpellier.
Such, then, being the genealogy of our hereditary folk-lore, it will seem strange that the patrimony should at any time be liable to diminish. Neverthe- less it would appear to be the fact that for upwards of a hundred years the people's wisdom was rigidly expugned from whatever prints and writings were intended for preservation. The prejudice of Lord Chesterfield that a national proverb was not becoming to the conversation of a man of breeding, would seem to have held good as well for the fifteenth as for the eighteenth century. It was not until the second de-
xii INTRODUCTION.
cade of the next century that our vernacular litera- ture again began to raise its head. In what measure the publication of Heywood's book contributed to the general restoration it is quite impossible to con- jecture, but it is not unreasonable to believe that its conservative influence was considerable. But here we may make room for a fine retrospect as it has been left us by two of the leading scholars of their day, Sir Thomas More and Roger Ascham.
" In our forefather's tyme," says Ascham, " when Papistrie as a standyng poole, covered and overflowed all England, fewe bookes were read in our tong, savyng certaine bookes of Chevalrie, as they said, for pastime and pleasure, which, as some say, were made in monasteries by idle monkes or wanton chanons, as one for example, Morte Arthure: the whole pleasure of which booke standeth in two special poyntes ;' in open maunslaughter and bold bawdrye. In which booke, those be counted the noblest knightes that do kill most men without any quarrell and commit fowlest advoulteres by subtlest shiftes ; as Sir Launce- lote, with the wife of King Arthure, his master ; Syr Tristram, with the wife of Kynge Marke, his uncle ; Syr Lamerocke with the wife of King Lote, that was his owne aunte ... I know when God's Bible was banished the court, and Morte Arthure received into the Prince's chamber."
INTRODUCTION, xiii
Prior to him Sir Thomas More writes : — " There is an use nowe a daies worse than amonge the Pagans, that bookes written in our mother's tonges, that be made but for idel men and women to read e, have none other matter but of war and love. . . . What a cus- tome is thys, that a song shall not be regarded, but it bee full of fylthynes, and this the lawes oughte to take hede of, and of those ungracious fokes, such as bee in my countrey in Spayne : Amadise, Florisande, Ti- rante, Tristane, and Celestina the baude, mother of naughtynes. In Fraunce : Launcelote du Lake, Paris and Vienna, Ponthus and Sidonia, and Mel- neyne. In Flanders : Flory and Whyte flowre : Leonell and Canomoure, Curias and Florete, Pyramus and Thisbe. In England : Parthenope, Genarides, Hippomadron, Willyam and Meliour, Livius and Arthur, Guye and Bevis, and many other, and some translated out of Latyne into vulgare speaches, as the unsavery conceites of Pogius, and of Aneas Silvius, Gurialus and Lucretia."
Those monastic writings, which, as Ascham had heard, were the work of " wanton canons " or worth- less monks, had been too foreign in their antecedents to adhere to the idiom and racy phraseology of fore- going times. The volumes which proceeded from the presses of the early printers were frequently the
xiv INTRODUCTION.
most inhistoric of histories or the most wearisome of romances. But already in Germany and in our own country, Polydore Vergil and Erasmus had begun to garner up the treasured sayings of classical antiquity; and the laureate Skelton, himself a sage and a classic, had preferred to sound a note better attuned to the public ear and more pleasing to the popular imagination. The author of Elinour Rum- myng had taken up the lyre of Chaucer, not indeed as Chaucer, but as Lydgate had dropped it. Then came John Heywood. A protege of Sir Thomas More, and a familiar intimate of Skelton, Heywood might well impart to the chancellor, at his house at Chelsea, selections from the fund of- grotesque ribaldry which he had previously heard, say, at the notorious Three Cranes. Skelton had set the fashion for coarse rhymes ; Heywood made coarse rhymes fashionable. There is little doubt that, after the appearance of / Hey wood's book in 1546, a new idea or influence was set working in English literature. It was not, indeed, that the work possessed intrinsic merit, or that its appearance was attended with circumstances of public interest. Rather was it that the author was by means of this work reminding the public of a property which the owners were inadvertently losing. That same meaning which the romancers before him had
INTRODUCTION. xv
attempted to explain with an allegory, Hey wood could promptly convey in a proverb. The romancers were rejected; Heywood's volume was hailed with acclaim. It became the most popular of all popular books. Ten times it was sent to press during the sixteenth century. Immediately on its appearance it gave a fillip to the nation's appetite for literary enjoyment ; poets, play-writers, and statesmen made capital of its mine of proverbs. The Elizabethan dramatists are brimming with them. One orator delivered a speech in the House of Commons in which a proverb formed the substance of every sentence. Proverbs were adopted everywhere as devices for tapestry, as mottoes for knives, as inscriptions for rings and keep- sakes. Shakespeare speaks of a moderate poetaster as one
whose poesy was
For all the world like cutler's poetry Upon a knife, Love me and leave me not.
It cannot be pretended that the volume before us has other claims to respect besides the extraneous one of its being the first assemblage of our colloquial sayings. The due transmission of proverbs, and even catch-words, unmutilated from age to age, has excited so much enquiry of late in the pages of our periodicals, that the editor believes that this attempt at restoring
xvi IN TROD UC TIO N.
an ancient literary landmark will meet with approba- tion from other gleaners in the same field of anti- quarianism. He also believes, with respect to the accompanying glosses, that so considerable a collec- tion of proverbial antiques has not hitherto been brought together. His reason for setting aside the accumulations of trite sayings in classical or oriental literature is that our own in early English possess a relationship far less equivocal. Little could be gained by illustrating English idiom from the mots dores of a Solon or a Pythagoras ; less, by illustrating it from a Zoroaster or a Confucius. Though it may be gratifying to discover that the simile of " no stone unturned " proceeds from a reply of the Delphic oracle, or that the homely figure of " a pinching shoe" takes rise from a passage in the Lives of Plutarch, yet it can be no less interesting to learn that Saint Jerome forebore to look a gift-horse in the mouth, or that the proverbial distich chanted by the insurgents in Wat Tyler's rebellion is found in a Teutonic dress in the German proverbs of Agricola. To any reader of the dramatists, who is at the same time acquainted with Heywood's collection, a curious incident of authorship will be apparent. Such, at least, we take to be that similarity between certain passages in Heywood's book and passages in the
INTRODUCTION. xvii
writings of the more prominent authors of a later day. Both Heywood's work and the extent of its popularity were well known to Shakespeare, but it is not seen that the great master availed himself of the literary leanings of his audience in order to secure the applause which almost invariably follows on the recognition of the adopted sentences of a popular author. Not so Ben Jonson. In the play of East- ward Hoe, which that author composed in conjunc- tion with Marston and Chapman, the dramatist seems purposely to have opened a page of Heywood that he might point the dialogue of his smartest charac- ters. The same tacit understanding existing between audience and actors as would seem to exist at the present day, we can imagine the hum of approbation which followed the delivery of each well-worn saying. A quotation from one of the more farcical parts of Eastward Hoe is almost parallel to Heywood's Proverbs : —
Touchstone. I heare your knight errant is traveld on strange adventures. Surely, in my mind, your ladiship hath "fisht faire, and caught afrogge? as the saying is.
******
Girtnide. Come away, I say, u hunger drops out at his nose" Goulding. O, madam, "Faire words never hurt the tongue." Girtrude. How say you that ? You come out with your golde ends now !
b
xviii INTRODUCTION.
Mistress T. Stay, lady, daughter ; good husband !
Touchstone. Wife, no man loves his fetters •, be they made of gold. I list not ha' my head fastned under my child's girdle ; as shee has brew'd, so let her drinke, a God's name. She went witlesse to wedding, now she may goe wisely a begging. It is but hony-moone yet with her ladiship : she has coach horses, apparel, jewels yet left : she needs care for no friends, nor take knowledge of father, mother, brother, sister, or any body. When those are pawn'd or spent, perhaps we shall returne into the liste of her acquaintance.
Girtrude. I scorne it, i' faith. Come, Sinne. \Exit Girtrude.
Mistress T. O, madam, why doe you provoke your father thus ?
Touchstone. Nay, nay, eene let pride go afore: shame tuil follow after, I warrant you. Come, why doest thou weepe now? Thou art not the first good cow hast had an il calfe, I trust.
The same observation would apply to portions of Henry Porter's best-known comedy, The Two Angry Women of Abington, which, obscure as it yet is, is mentioned by Charles Lamb as being no whit inferior to the earliest performances of Shakespeare. It is full of business, humour, and merry malice.
It is now time to pass from the consideration of the indirect influence of Heywood's work, to detail some particulars of his career, and notably in his capacity of dramatic author.
" Was not Heywood a satirist?" asks one of the
INTR OD UCTION. xix
characters in Mr. Payne Collier's skilful work, The Poetical Decameron.
" I presume you mean the elder — John Heywood," rejoins another.
" I mean that Heywood who is the author of one of the most witty and entertaining pieces in Dodsley's Collection."
Turning to the theatrical repository here mentioned, we discover that the performance which has so de- servedly procured Mr. Collier's eulogy is the one bearing the eccentric title of Four P's. The further title — one is involuntarily reminded by it of the tra- ditional three R's — proceeds to explain that the piece is a facetious dialogue held between a Pardoner, a Palmer, a Pothicary, and a Pedler. It is worthy of note that though written by one of the most rigid and bigoted of Catholics and at a time when the tumult f opinions was at its height, the satire of this lay is especially directed against the abuses of the Lomish communion. As a Catholic of the sixteenth entury Heywood went further than a Protestant of next, in exposing and bringing to just ridicule the nemies alike of the old faith and the new. The re- gious charlatan who could open the gates of heaven 'ith the rich man's purse-strings ; the sanctimonious uack who purchased ease and affluence by a sys-
xx INTRODUCTION.
tematic trifling with the souls of his community; these and other types of the monastic character, unhappily but too abundant in his day, found little mercy from the unscrupulous yet unvindictive satire of Hey wood.
A speech of the Palmer opens the comedy : —
At Hierusalem have I bene,
Before Chryste's blessed sepulture ; The mount of Calvary have I sene,
A holy place ye may be sure.
»*..*.*<
Then at Rhodes also I was,
And round about to Armas,
At Saynt Toncomber and Saynt Tronion,
At Saynt Botolph and Saynt Anne of Buckston.
On the hylles of Armeny, where I saw Noe's arke,
With holy Job and Saynt George in South warke,
And at the good rood of Dagnam.
He is interrupted by the Pardoner assuring him that such remote pilgrimages are altogether un- necessary for securing salvation. He might have obtained pardon and stayed at home.
Geve me but a peny or two pens,
And as sone as the soule depart eth hens,
In halfe an houre, or three quarters at the moste,
The soule is in heaven with the Holy Ghost.
The Poticary and the Pedler then join the com- pany; each begins to assert for himself a superior claim
INTR OD UC TION, xxi
to the gratitude of his fellows. " Whose agency is more potent in love ?" urges the Pedler. " That is of first importance in the affairs of this world," so admits the Poticary, " but who is it but myself who hastens so many people to the next?" At last tired of dis- puting their pre-eminence, it is agreed that the dis- putants shall compete for the mastery by telling fibs ; the greatest liar to be thenceforth recognized as chief and primus of this exemplary four. The task, says the Pedler, cannot be a heavy one, as they are all accustomed to it ; while he, possessing no little skill in the art of lying, is constituted umpire. It having Deen decided to make the trial in succession, the Pardoner takes the lead by relating the virtues of lis relics. His inventions concerning the jaw-bone All Hallows and the slippers of the Seven Sleepers are acknowledged as belonging merely to the class of respectable mediocrity. But no sooner is the Poticary called on for his lie, than he declares the Palmer to an honest man. This was indeed a falsehood of the first magnitude, but it is confessed by the umpire that he is still unable to determine the quantity of credit exactly due to each. To meet the difficulty it is proposed that each shall recount some marvellous adventure, not apocryphal at all, but falling within the strict letter of fact
xxii INTRODUCTION.
The Poticary who leads off with a story of a won- derful cure is soon distanced by the recital of the Pardoner. This worthy seriously details the circum- stances of a visit to hell which he had undertaken tc regain the soul of a lamented lady intimate : —
A frende of myne, and lykewyse I To her agayne was as frendly.
He had first, he said, enquired at the gates of purgatory whether a person answering to the description which he gave of her had recently been admitted ; but when informed to the contrary : —
Alas ! thought I, she is in hell ;
For with her lyfe I was so acqueynted
That sure I thought she was not saynted.
He had accordingly hastened to that locality, where recognizing an old acquaintance in the porter at the gate, he procures a free passport to traverse the sa- tanic realm. Walking arm-in-arm with his old associate, the Pardoner approaches a spot where the denizens of hell are celebrating an infernal orgy There he is cordially received by the genius of the place, Lucifer himself, and the Pardoner presently advances his suit. He will do the devil a good turn on earth, so he bargains, if in consideration for these promised services, his Majesty will release a certain
INTR OD UC TION. xxiii
soul from his dominions. When told that it is a female soul, nothing can exceed the delight of Lucifer. No subjects, he declares, occasion more disquiet to the reign of Satafi than the women souls whom weary earth consigns him. He requests, even implores, that the Pardoner will send none other of that sex to dis- turb his subjects' harmony, a wish that the other readily promises to respect. Accordingly the woman is made over to her deliverer, who escorts her to Newmarket Heath, and there leaves her to her own devices.
It had appeared to the Pardoner that this piece of mendacity was far too brazen for the remaining competitors to surpass, when the Palmer, commenting on the other's recital, lets fall the stupid observation that in a long lifetime he had never seen a woman out of patience. In later times it would be regarded as singularly the reverse of a fitting climax that a drama so skilfully constructed should terminate with so feeble a situation ; but, in the days of John Hey- wood, stage exigencies were abundantly satisfied by such a finale as we see contrived by the irony of the blundering Palmer.
The interlude of Heywood's which contains in- ternal proof of having been first written is the Mery Playe betwene the Pardoner and the Frere, the Ciirate
xxiv INTRODUCTION.
and neybour Pratte. The fact of Leo X. being mentioned in it as then living fixes the date of its production prior to 1521. Like the interlude we have just noticed, it is conceived in a tone of deep hostility to the established clergy. Like that again its intention is to expose the mischievous impostures of the mendicant orders. A friar and a professional pardon-monger have taken possession of a church, the one to exhort the congregation to benevolence, the other to find purchasers for his saintly relics. The friar is already enlarging on the poverty of his order when the pardoner interrupts the harangue by proclaiming the pretended virtues of his receipts and nostrums.1 The great toe of the Trinity and the articles of wearing apparel once belonging to the Virgin are amongst the most startling of the Par- doner's relics, a complete catalogue of which is inter- rupted by the obstinate determination of the mendicant to obtain a hearing. The friar taunts his adversary with the publication of " a ragman's roll of lies," as he emphatically expresses it. The mendicant replies with blows, and the two are coming to close combat
1 Mr. F. J. Furnivall writing in Notes and Queries, (4th S. IX. 177) draws attention to the fact that Hey wood has incorporated into the Pardoner's speech lines 49-100 of CHAUCER'S Pardoner's Prologue.
INTRODUCTION. xxv
when the curate, who has been informed of the dis- turbance, rushes into church thinking to lay violent hands on the monastic. " Let me alone with this gentleman/' cries his reverence, at the same time enjoining Master Pratte, who at this juncture appears on the scene, to deal severely with the layman. It is disappointing to find in the conclusion that the two charlatans, better accustomed to the practice of pugilism, fare best in the encounter and are suffered to march off on their several ways.
Two pieces we have next to notice would purport, from their structural simplicity, to be a product of an almost aboriginal period of the drama. In neither is there promise of an acted story, nor as they proceed is there any indication of plot or circumstance. Alike devoid of " business," the simplest stage appliances are the only requisites for their production. Con- sidered as spectacles, the Play of the Wether and the Play of Love seem equally unlikely to afford attraction, but when we consider that these popular performances amounted to nothing but argumentative and interminable conversations, we must suppose such audiences as they did actually command to have had a keener appreciation for logical subtilty than any that have since been collected within the walls of a play-house.
xxvi INTRODUCTION.
• The Play of the Wether gives us a curious table of
dramatis persona, which, as it is not a lengthy one, may be here set out.
Jupiter, a god.
Merry Reporte, the vyce.
The gentylman.
The marchaunt.
The ranger.
The water myller.
The wynde myller.
The gentylwoman.
The launder.
A boy the lest that can play.
The scene opens by Jupiter appearing and pro- ceeding, after the manner of a chorus, to explain the argument of the drama. So great vexation, he de- clares, had been occasioned to mortals through the perverse disposition of the elements that he had summoned the rulers of the firmament to his judg- ment seat to answer the charges that had previously been preferred against them. Having appeared at the time appointed, each had complained that his individual endeavours to promote the happiness of man were constantly thwarted by the action of his companions in the celestial government. Saturn had charged Phoebus with melting the morning frost and rendering the labour of the night useless. Phoebus had exclaimed against Phoebe, whose
INTRO D UC TION. xxvii
showers, he complained, were alike prejudicial to the workings both of frost and heat. Instead of re- senting this imputation, Phoebe made common cause with the other complainants, and together they fell foul of Eolus. He, they said, —
When he is dysposed his blastes to blow Suffereth neyther sone shyne, rayne nor snow.
Jupiter, then, had been invited to arrange the dif- ferences, and has descended to earth that he might consider the petitions of such among the mortals as were aggrieved by the elemental caprices. Merry Reporte, a certain mercurial intelligence, acts as medium between Jupiter and the suppliants, and it is with the spoken commentary of this personage that the play now concerns itself. The first suitor is a " gentylman " desiring clear weather without cloud
or mist,
nor no wynde to blow For hurt in hys huntynge.
The merchant prayed for a "mesurable wynde." As for the ranger, he was so blinded by private interest as plainly to say —
there bloweth no wynde at al ; while the water-miller exclaimed that —
the wynde was so stout The rayne could not fall ;
xxviii INTR OD UCTION.
a statement politely contradicted by the wind-miller,
Who sayd for the rayne he could no wynde wyn ; The water he wysht to be banysht all.
But an applicant of a different complexion was the "goodly dame," who desired neither rain nor sunshine,
But fayre close wether her beautye to save ; And the last to appeal were the schoolboy, who wished for nothing better than frost or snowballing, and the poor woman
that lyveth by laundry, Who must have wether hot And clere her clothys to dry.
In the end, Jupiter promises to institute such a dis- posal of the elements that all trades in due season may prosper without injury one to another.
It may here be observed that all the " business " of this comedy is supposed to be transpiring away from the stage, or else to have already taken place. It is in effect nothing but a long recitation, the variety of characters being useful only as supplying the appro- priate reliefs in speaking it. At the close, a mutual understanding is come to and all parties are satisfied and depart
Nearly three hundred years of neglect must have passed over all knowledge of the Play of Love, when a unique copy was accidentally discovered by the
IN TROD UC TION. xxix
librarian at the Bodleian Library. Here again are found the same mythical and abstract personages, the same creations who monopolized the drama in its earlier stages, and who were for ever superseded when interlude was displaced by comedy.
A Lover not Beloved and the object of his regard, a Woman Beloved not Loving, discourse upon the rela- tive painfulness of their respective states of feeling. The lady with more charity, and with nearly as little reason as her pursuer, insists that the more pain falls to the lot of those who are the objects of a passion which they cannot reciprocate. The audience may have felt a desire to know more of this philosophic maiden, but could not fail to agree with the Lover not Beloved when he replies —
I say and will verefy, Of all pains the most incomparable pain, Is to be a lover not loved again.
The conflict of opinions is now heightened by the appearance of the Lover Loved, an anxious though self-satisfied character, and Neither Loved nor Loving, a personage who bears the burden of the comic portion of the play. The former, having thus avowed complete satisfaction with his condition, —
love is my feader,
Love is my lord, and love is my leader !
xxx INTRODUCTION.
meets with direct contradiction from the perfectly absolute Neither Loved nor Loving, who intimates that the other does not know his own mind, and that his alone is the most peaceful situation. The denoue- ment shows all parties agreeing to regard one another on an equality of happiness and misfortune. The few words spoken to the audience at the end of the drama bespeak a high standard of stage morality in the first years of the sixteenth century: —
Since such contention may hardly accord
In such kind of love as here hath been meant,
Let us seek the Love of that loving Lord, Who to suffer passion for love was content.
A Mery Play between Johan Johan, the Husbande ; Tyb, his Wyfe ; and Syr jfhon, the Freest, is certainly the most farcical and not the least amusing of Hey- wood's pieces. It is also one of the coarsest ; but its coarseness is of a kind that would be found enter- taining in no age but the age which produced it, and even then is too imprudent to be morally hurtful or offensive. This meagre play, in spite of its obscenity, or perhaps by reason of its obscenity, yet remains a relic of an order of things that have long passed away, and brings down to us a Savour of ideas that have long since perished. The rural clergyman, whose visits were as dreaded at the homestead as a descent
INTRODUCTION. xxxi
by caterans on the granary or poultry yard, had actually a beau-ideal in sixteenth century life. The type of character was so fully recognized, and was held to furnish such excellent staple for buffoonery, that right reverend prelates did not feel it derogatory from their calling to witness a popular expose of the peccadilloes of their own clergy. Of the piece before us it is sufficient to say that the village priest does not fail to answer expectation both in his conversation and behaviour, neither can we perceive him to be the least distinguishable from the hero of the story.
The last of Heywood's pieces, one which yet remains a manuscript in the Harleian Library, is a dialogue between three persons, named respectively John, James, and Jerome. The title which has more lately been bestowed on this performance is A Dialogue on Wit and Folly ; John arguing the superiority of the life of a wise man, and James maintaining the greater comfort of the witless one. The latter defends the strong position that pain of body is less grievous than that of mind. But, replies John, —
The student's pain is oft pleasantly mixt In feeling what fruit by his study is fixt.
To which James, with an ability which proclaims him in no way allied to the "witless" whose cause he argues, makes reply, —
xxxii I NT ROD UCTION.
The laborers labour quiteth that at a whip In feeling the fruit of his workmanship. As much delight carters in carts neat trimmed As do students in books with gold neat limned.
Adding, with no little feeling, —
Less is the peril and less is the pain
The knocking of knuckles which fingers doth strain,
Than digging in the heart, or drying of the brain.
Before dismissing the plays of John Heywood, it is incumbent on us to notice this author's position with regard to the history of the English stage. He is, unless we greatly err, the originator, nay, the inventor ^of our native drama. That distinction, once accorded to the author of Gammer Gurton in 1560, to the author of Roister Bolster y to the author of Misogenus, may safely be transferred from their unconscious shoulders to those of the author of the Four P'st about the year 1530. It is true that stage perform- ances, with play-book and words, with scaffolding and apparatus, had existed long before the time of Heywood. They had existed, as they will always continue to exist, wherever men are obedient to the instinct of personation. They existed in Troy, in Thebes, in Baalbec, if, as we may believe, that in those cities men took delight in identifying them- selves with imaginary characters more or less debased
IN TROD UC TION. xxxiii
or exalted. But as yet in England, no play or comedy, that is, no spoken story, had ever been con- ceived by dramatist, or entered into the heart of man to perform. Selections from the Old and New Testa- ments ; from the Pentateuch, and from the Apocalypse, had for generations been represented, and had quite succeeded in satisfying the popular notion of what was demanded in a stage play. But these Biblical performances must have differed from the product of the later drama in the same way that a street recita- tion by an old Greek rhapsodist must have differed from a performance of the Electra. People in this country were so satisfied with a mimic representation of the deluge, or the miracle of the loaves and fishes, that they overlooked the fact that additional amuse- ment might be gained by closely following the drama of antiquity. The models were actually in their pos- session, and yet the owners did not bethink them- selves to copy. But when we recollect the half-serious moral that is banteringly conveyed in Charles Lamb's most charming essay ; when we remember the interval that elapsed in the progress of printing between the period of block-books and the obvious advance to type that was movable, we cannot be surprised at the gap subsisting between the two ages of the drama, or wonder at the two thousand years that had almost
xxxiv INTR OD UCTION.
elapsed before the Mencechmi of Plautus had de- veloped into the Comedy of Errors.
The line of demarcation between the two periods of stage history must of necessity be an arbitrary one. We prefer to place it at the point where the Bible disappears from the hustings and secular subjects are for the first time introduced. Following our own rule, we shall have no hesitation in claiming the play of the Pardoner and the Frere as our earliest comedy, and distinguishing Heywood as our earliest dramatic author. Though forestalled in this respect in other countries of Europe, Heywood may still be said to have beaten his forerunners on the score of origi- nality. Heywood's plays are Gothic in their extrac- tion; those of his contemporaries on the continent draw vitality from Rome and Athens. In France, so soon as the Confrerie de la Passion had found strength to throw off its spiritual encumbrances, the stage was burdened with Medeas and Agamemnons. In Germany as yet no drama had arisen, but in Italy both Trissino and Rucellai drew boldly on the come- dies of Terence. Heywood, on the contrary, looked only for his characters to the heroes of the fields and hedge-rows. They accordingly are most usually either tramps, or parsons, or cozeners; but his success depending only upon the plaudits of citizen and
INTR OD UCTION. xxxv
apprentice, of Cheapside madam or Wapping "waist- coatier," it is not greatly remarkable that a hearty reception was accorded.
We know not for how long the plays of John Heywood continued to hold the stage, but they must inevitably have fallen into discredit upon the first approach of the Elizabethans. In 1633, exactly a century after the publication of Heywood's plays, we find Ben Jonson, in the last play which he was ever permitted to give to the world, pointing unmerited ridicule at the name of Heywood. The play in which Jonson satirises our author is the Tale of a Tub, and the scene is that in which the wise men of Finsbury are arranging the preliminaries of a new piece which they have undertaken to exhibit, with the Tale of a Tub as its title. Its author,
Medlay the joiner, The only man at a disguise in Middlesex,
by whom Inigo Jones is intended, considers it necessary to view the tubs and washing appliances the better to stimulate his imagination. The squire accordingly directs them to inspect his washhouse, adding —
Spare us no cost, either in boards or hoops To architect your tub : have you ne'er a cooper At London, call'd Vitruvius ? send for him : Or old John Heywood, call him to you to help.
xxxvi INTRODUCTION.
In searching for a clue to our author's parentage, we gave preference to the neighbourhood of the court as the place wherein to discover the parents or family connections who would naturally have been the means of procuring him his early employment in the house- hold. Two persons of his name are found mentioned in the State papers, both being under rather than above the middle station, and both being dependents in the royal establishment. One is a William Hey- wood, yeoman of the guard, whose name is constantly occurring as the receiver of sixpence a day, seemingly some perquisite of a yeoman of the crown. In a curious account, which, among other items, also re- cords a payment to " The Boy Bishop at West- minster," this sixpenny fee appears converted into a permanent pension.
The one other Heywood whose position might be supposed to tally with that of the father of the pro- verbialist, is a William Heywood, described as " King's joiner " in the entries of the treasury accounts. In 1514, this individual was at work on the "Great Harry ; " and six years later, at the pageant of the Field of the Cloth of Gold, he held a place in the retinue of the King. The position, it is true, he shared in company of " yeomen bit-makers " and " sergeant saddlers ;" and the pay of twelve-pence per day which
INTRODUCTION. xxxvii
he received while on this expedition, would seem to bespeak him of the class of skilled mechanics. It re- mains quite conjectural whether either of these persons can be identified as John Heywood's relative ; but we cannot think it improbable that the father of the " singing-man" at court was no other than this William Heywood, engaged, as we find him to have been, in supplying furniture and equipments to the king's buffoons at Greenwich and St. James'.
In the first years of the reign of Henry VIII., four separate companies of comedians were maintained for the royal amusement. Two only were established on a permanent footing ; the two others, namely, the " Gentlemen " and the " Children " of the Chapel, playing occasionally, and receiving respectively ;£io, and £6 13^. ^d. for their performances. Attached to this latter company of performers we find John Hey- wood, who must have been quite a child at the date (1515), when the book of payments first makes men- tion of him. He then drew eight-pence a day as his salary. Five years later, he is receiving a quarterly income of one hundred shillings, that amount ap- pearing to have been ''synger wages," as a manuscript pay-book now in the chapter-house at Westminster has chronicled it. So small however is the stock of knowledge that we actually possess with regard to
xxxviii I NT ROD UCTION.
John Heywood, that from a passing allusion in a comedy, we are ready to infer that at this period he had already commenced the business of a play-writer ; and it is perhaps the same paucity of materials which makes us willing to conclude that he had started as an independent manager, when, a few years subsequently, we find a sensible deduction in the amount of his regular salary.
On comparing the receipts of Heywood with others of a like nature, we discover the sum of £20 per annum to have been the amount of honorarium usually bestowed. Such is the sum paid annually to " Vincent Voulp painter," to "the King's voulteger," and to " Nicholas Craser an estronymer." It is noticeable also that the same sum exceeds by nearly one half the amount annually paid for the services of " Pirro the French cook."
The publication of the Cheque Book of the Chapel Royal, so ably edited by Dr. Rimbault, has enabled us to elucidate a previously unexplained point in the career of Heywood. That the plebeian singing-boy of the royal chapel should be found a student at Oxford University, that he should have shared the friendship of More and the confidence of Queen Mary, and should finally become possessor of estates in several English counties, appear to be circumstances incom-
IN TROD UC TIO N. xxxix
patible with the known indignity of his profession. But the Liber Niger Domini Regis, a manuscript cited in Dr. Rimbault's work, admits us to a view of the economy of this semi-religious establishment, and supplies information which allows us to account for the singing-boy's promotion. First, directing the whole affairs of this priestly corporation, but taking no part in the liturgical services of the church, was placed a resident dean. Beneath him, and in order of seniority, came twenty-four chaplains of the chapel. It is singular to read of their daily allotments — the clean's allowance of three loaves, the chaplain's mess of meat and portion of spice and wine, the latter however allowable only after an evening service. To a share in these benefits, the lay portion of the chapelry were likewise entitled, whose sum total of eleven per- sons consisted of a " Master of Songe," two Epistellers, or readers of the Epistles, and eight Children of the Chapel. At the time, then, that Heywood entered the chapel choir, a restricted yet honourable career was presented to a youth of musical proficiency. He might at least aspire to become an " Episteller," or, taking holy orders, would in due course arrive at the full dignity of King's chaplain. But as a soprano voice was far more highly valued in this establish- ment than either eloquence or scholarship, an outlet
xl t INTRODUCTION.
was found for elderly choristers by draughting them off, at his majesty's expense, to the Universities of Oxford or Cambridge.1 Of this privilege we must suppose Heywood to have availed himself, as we find him to have been entered as a student at Broadgate, now Pembroke College, Oxford.
It is somewhat remarkable that materials for a biography of John Heywood can but with difficulty be recovered from the published remains of his cen- tury. After quitting the University, it is probable that he almost immediately took up the profession of theatrical instructor to a company of performing chil- dren, at the same time holding on to his emoluments in the household. But of his career as a public caterer no record has come down to us, indeed, his long con- nection with the stage is evidenced only by desultory notices in private account books, more particularly those used in the royal household in regulating the daily expenses. In one of these, as early as the
1 And when any of these children comene to be xviij years of age, and their voices change, ne cannot be preferred in this chappelle, the nombere being full, then yf they will assente, the Kyng assynethe them to a College of Oxeford or Cambridge of his foundation, there to be at fynding and studye both suffytyently, tylle the King may otherwise advaunce them. — MS. Harleian, (293, 642).
INTR ODUCT1ON. xli
year 1526, mention is made of a quarterly salary of fifty shillings, paid by way of retainer to secure Hey- wood's services in the King's musical establishment. Again in 1537, a payment to Heywood of two pounds occurs among the items of Princess Mary's expendi- ture and mention of a like disbursement is also found in the privy purse accounts of Princess Elizabeth. Both sums are in remuneration for the performances of Heywood's children. Of these identical performances no account has been preserved, but a memorial of a similar celebration that has come down to us, is not the least curious of the curiosities connected with the stage. From this document we gather some particulars of the performance of a Latin play, acted at Greenwich before Henry VIII. and visitors from France, Marechal Montmorency, the Bishop of Rouen and Monsieur d'Humieres. The entrepreneur on this occasion was not John Heywood, but the Head Master of St. Paul's School, John Rightwise, better known to fame in connection with Lyly's Latin Grammar. The play, which was the work of Right- wise himself, and was performed by his own pupils, aimed at heaping ridicule on Luther and the faith of the reformers. When we say that the characters in this piece bear the names of Ecclesia, Heresy and False-Interpretation, the theological nature of the
xlii INTRODUCTION.
entertainment will be readily surmised. Such com- panies of juvenile comedians as that which Heywood conducted were the object of considerable animosity among maturer actors, and Shakespeare himself had afterwards to complain of their counter-attractiveness. Ben Jonson, on the contrary, entrusted his best plays to their performing, and on the death of Salathiel Pavey, one of the children, most admiringly writes,—
He did play old men so duly, That, sooth, the Parcse thought him one, , He played so truly.
In the Metamorphosis of Ajax, 1596, we observe that Sir John Harrington commiserates Heywood as having so narrowly escaped "the jerke of the six- stringed whip." The circumstance alluded to occurred in 1 544, when our author, relying too implicitly per- haps on the protection of his friends at court, was so daring and uncompromising as to deny the spiritual supremacy of the King. The terror of the situation, however, appears to have prevailed, for the unfortunate dramatist was permitted to expiate his offences by appearing at Paul's Cross, and there proclaiming a rigmarole of recantations, to which, as we are aware, the firm inflexibility of his opinions would never have permitted him conscientiously to subscribe. " I come hither at this time, good people!" he begins,
INTRODUCTION. xliii
" willinglye and of mine own desyrouse suit, to show and declare unto you briefly, first of all, the great and inestimable clemency and mercifulness of my most sovereign and redoubted prince the kings majesty, the which his highness hath most graciously used towards me a wretch, most justly and worthily con- demned to die for my manifold and outrageous offences. For whereas," he continues, " his majesty's supremacy hath so often been opened unto me both by writing and speaking (if I had had grace either to open my eyes to see it, or mine ears to hear it), to be surely and certainly grounded and established upon the very true way of God ; yet for lack of grace, I have most wilfully and obstinately suffered myself to fall to such blindness, that I have not only thought that the Bishop of Rome hath been, and ought to be, taken the chief and supreme head of the universal church of Christ in earth ; but also, like no true sub- ject, concealed and favoured such as I have known or thought to be of the same opinion. For the which most detestable treasons and untruths, I here most humbly and with all my heart, first of all axe the king's majesty forgiveness, and secondarily all the world." !
1 MS. Lambeth. Banner Register *, fol. 61. Fox's Acts and Monuments ^ v. 538.
xliv I NT ROD UCTION.
Without any direct authority for the assertion, Heywood has been numbered among the merry fellows who occupied the position of professed jester at the Court of our English Kings. Such an one, it was currently said, could not be a wise man to take the place and could not be a fool to keep it. It is certain that the clowns and merry-andrews whom the Plantagenet and even the Tudor kings loved to have constantly about them, were frequently men of fair literary attainments and of good social standing. So long ago as the eleventh century, a chartered fool had amassed so considerable a treasure in the exercise of his vocation, that the possessions for long after held at Walworth by the see of Canterbury, came by his bequest to be the property of the cathedral church. Not only the jester of Edmund Ironside, but the can- tatores and joculatores of the sterner Norman princes carried away huge proceeds to enhance the comfort of their private lives. At the court of William I. the jester Berdic is said to have retired with a grant of five carucates of land and the lordship of five towns as his pension ; and the magnificent hospital now ex- isting in Smithfield is reported to have been primarily erected with the gains of the licensed jester of Henry I. Arguing from these precedents, it has been presumed that the presents and pensions repeatedly granted to
INTRODUCTION. xlv
John Heywood corroborate the supposition that he also is among the King's jesters. The property Hey- wood accumulated was considerable. First of all we discover that in 1521, an annuity of ten marks was granted to " John Heywood, the King's servant " chargeable on the rentals of two manors in North- amptonshire formerly enjoyed by a certain Thomas Farthing.1 Again in 1558, five days before Queen Mary's death, there was granted to him under the description of " John Heywood gentleman " the manor of Bulmer in Yorkshire, lately the property of Sir John Bulmer who had become attainted for his com- plicity in the Pilgrimage of Grace.2 When, in 1577, a commission was appointed to enquire into the lands and goods of our author and his wife, they found him to have been possessed for life of certain lands at a nominal rental, of which Heywood also held a rever- sion. Also that Eliza Heywood had land of £5 yearly value which had passed by grant to their daughter Elizabeth. They also found that he held a lease from the Queen of lands in Kent worth £100, which was forfeited by reason of his political offences. Another authority states that he was pos-
1 State Papers. Henry VIII. iii. 1 186. 1 State Papers. Domestic. XIV. 8.
xlvi INTRODUCTION.
sessed of customary lands in Hertfordshire, at North Mimms.
We have noticed Queen Mary's death-bed gift to John Heywood, and it is easy to perceive that this was not the only kind office that the zealous Queen performed for him. Probably Hey wood's rescue from execution was due to the royal lady's intervention, as it is certain that between the Princess and the singing-man there had existed a long and honourable intimacy. He is the English Rizzio without the tragedy, also, it may be mentioned, without the scandal.
" What wind blew you to court ?" asked the Queen, as one day Heywood made his appearance.
" Two," replied the favourite, " especially the one to see your Majesty."
"We thank you for that," said Queen Mary, "but what is the other?"
"That your Grace," he replied, "may see me."
Another time, as it is recorded in Ben Jonson's Conversations with Drummond, he came so rudely into the presence that the Queen herself had to inter- fere. "She had made him so brave," she said, "that he had almost misknowen himself." When she was at the age of eighteen he had composed a poem in her praise, and though the verses have been adduced
I NT ROD UCTION. xlvii
as an instance of "his poetic policy," it should be remembered that the piece of flattery was bestowed at a time when the object of it was friendless and in disgrace. At her coronation, Heywood took a leading part in the pageant and festivities, and composed another copy of laudatory verses. Even in her last moments, Heywood was permitted to be present, and then, as we have seen, his service and his friendship were not suffered to pass unrecognised or unrewarded.
We have already spoken of Heywood as a dra- matist, it now remains for us to notice him as a poet. His verse has not attained to equal notoriety with his dramas ; for among a coterie of bad poets, Heywood is easily distinguished as the worst. He has written little that soars higher than the merest doggerel. Of his epigrams, six hundred in number, not one has found a place in the English anthology. Of his best we will only say that they are as puerile as the worst of Martial's, and nearly as indelicate. His single epic, upon which its author must have staked his poetic reputation, may at one time have found place among the other controversial writings of that century ; though probably no one — unless Dr. Doran be an exception — has since had the boldness to peruse it. But the historian of Court Fools, after
xlviii INTRODUCTION.
toiling to the end of the last stanza, is convinced that the " Spider and the Fly " of John Heywood is not nearly so entertaining as is the same poem by the free-and-easy poet, Tom Hudson. Not having studied our author's weightiest production, we can offer no opinion on it; but the Proverbs — which we have read — could scarcely be out-done in the way of dense and stupid poetasting. But still in the face of this conviction we will yet maintain, and in this view we shall not be wanting for supporters, that the store of sayings and adages which the old Court Jester has collected, are worthy of preservation as an antiquity of literature and a land-mark in the history of the English mind.
It now only remains for us to add that the edition we have used in our present version of the Proverbs, is that published in 1598, being the last that issued from the press. We have selected the later impres- sion as being more free from corruptions ; though the first edition, that of 1546, is the more valuable as it is but very rarely met with. The unwieldiness of Heywood's own title must be our excuse for sup- pressing it in this version, and the original having changed its appearance so completely in our hands, will perhaps justify the slight fraud upon our author.
INTRODUCTION. xlix
We proceed to give his title exactly as we find it; remarking that the latter portion of the title-page alludes to another and distinct work : —
THE WORKES OF JOHN HEIWOOD NEWLIE IM- PRINTED. NAMELIE A DIALOGUE, WHEREIN ARE PLEASANTLIE CONTRIVED THE NUMBER OF ALL THE EFFECTUALL PROVERBS IN OUR ENGLISH TONGUE: COMPACT IN A MATTER CONCERNING TWO MANER OF MARIAGES. TOGETHER WITH THREE HUNDRED EPIGRAMMES UPON THREE HUN- DRED PROVERBES. ALSO A FOURTH, FIFTH AND
SIXTH HUNDREDTH OF OTHER VERY PLEASANT, PITHIE AND INGENIOUS EPIGRAMMES. London. 1598.
With respect to the preface the editor begs to state that he has refrained from the usual course of sup- plying every chance mention of an author's name which may with great pains be discovered in obscure contemporary literature. He has preferred to give only such facts and surmises as may be new to the biographer, or such remarks and reflections as these may give rise to. He has already traced the revival of old saws which followed the publication of Hey- wood's book. But previous to penning these last
d
1 INTRODUCTION.
lines, he has lighted upon a speech in a coeval comedy which bears him out in the justness of his deductions. The play is the one which is well known as the master-piece of Decker, and the proverb- revival is plainly aimed at when one of the buffo- characters begins to quote learnedly from a cheese- trencher. Quaint applications for sentences and maxims have since become more common; but in this incident in Decker's comedy we are strikingly reminded of that unfortunate poem by Sir Bland Burges, which Lord Byron declares having read on the lining of a trunk at Malta. — "And if you don't believe me," adds the poet, " I will buy a port- manteau to quote from."
JULIAN SHARMAN.
Kensington, March, 1874.
THE
PROVERBS OF JOHN HEYWOOD.
THE PREFACE.
MONG other things profiting in our
tong, Those which much may profit both
old and yong: Such as on their fruit will feede or take holde, Are our common plaine pithie Proverbs olde. Some sense of some of which being bare and rude, Yet to fine and fruitfull effect they allude, And their sentences include so large a reach, That almost in all things good lessons they teach. This write I not to teach, but to touch ; for why ? Men know this as well or better then I.
B
:-. PREFACE.
But this and this rest ; I write for this, Remembring and considering what the pith is, That, by remembrance of these, Proverbs may grow. In this tale, erst talked with a friend, I show As many of them as we could fitly finde Falling to purpose, that might fall in minde ; To th' entent that the Reader readily may Finde them and minde them, when he will alway.
THE FIRST PART.
CHAPTER I.
F mine acquaintance a certaine young
man
(Being a resorter to me now and than) Resorted lately, shewing himselfe to be Desirous to talke at length alone with me And as we for this a meete place had won, With this olde proverbe, this young man begon : Whoso that knew what would be deare, Should neede be a marchant but one year e. Though it, (quoth he), thing impossible bee, The full sequele of present things to foresee, Yet doth this proverbe provoke every man, Politikely, (as man possibly can), In things to come after, to cast eye before, To cast out, or keepe in, things for fore store,
4 THE PROVERBS OF
As the provision may seeme most profitable,
And the commoditie most commendable.
Into this consideration I am wrought
By two things, which fortune to hands hath brought.
Two women I know, of which twaine the tone
Is a mayde of flowring age, a goodly one ;
Th' other a widow, who so many yeares beares,
That all her whitenes lyeth in her white heares.
This mayde hath friends rich, but riches she hath none,
Nor none can her hands get to live upon.
This widow is very rich and her friends bare,
And both these for love to wed with me fond are.
And both would I wed, the better and the wurse,
The tone for her person, the tother for her purse :
They wooe not my substance, but my selfe they wooe,
Goods have I none and small good can I dooe.
On this poore maide, her rich friends, I cleerly know,
(So she wedde where they will), great gifts wil bestow,
But with them all I am so far from faver,
That she shall sure have no grote, if I have her ;
And I shall have as little all my friends sweare,
Except I follow them to wedde elswhere.
The poore friends of this rich widow beare no sway,
But wed her and win wealth, when I will I may.
Now which of these twaine is like to be deerest,
In paine or pleasure to sticke to me neerest ?
JOHN HEY WOOD.
The depth of all doubts with you to consither, The sense of the sayd proverbe sendeth me hither, The best bargaine of both quickly to have skand, For one of them think I to make out of hand.
CHAPTER II.
IRIEND, (quoth I), welcome, and with right
good will,
I will as I can your minde herein fulfill. And two things I see in you, that shew you wise, First in wedding, ere ye wed to aske advise. The second, your yeares being yong it appeares, Ye regard yet good proverbs of old feme yeares : And as ye ground your tale upon one of them, Furnish me this tale with everychone of them, Such as may fitly fall in minde to dispose. Agreed, (quoth he) ; then, (quoth I), first this disclose, Have you to this old widow, or this yong mayd, Any words of assurance ere this tyme sayd ? Nay in good faith, said he. Well then, (said I), I will be plaine with you, and may honestly ; And plainly too speake, I like you, (as I sayd),
6 THE PROVERBS OF
In two fore told things, but a third haue I wayd,
Not so much to be liked, as I can deeme,
Which is, in your wedding, your haste too extreeme.
The best and worst thing to man for this life,
Is good or ill choosing his good or ill wife.
I meane not onely of bodie good or bad,
But of all things meet or unmeete to be had,
Such as at any time by any meanes may,
Betweene man and wife, love encrease or decay.
Where this ground in any head gravely grateth,
All fine haste to wed, it soone rebateth.
Some things that provoke yong men to wred in haste,
Show after wedding, that haste maketh waste.
When time hath turnd white sugar to white salt,
Then such folke see, soft fire matfth sweet malt,1
1 Soft fire matfth sweet malt.
Nicholas. O maister Philip, forbeare ; you must not leape over the stile before you come at it ; haste makes waste ; soft fire makes sweet malt ; not too far for falling ; there's no hast to hang true men.
Philip. Father, we ha'te, ye see, we ha'te. Now will I see if my memorie will serve for some proverbs, too. O, — a painted cloath were as well worth a shilling as a theefe worth a halter. — Two Angry Women of Abington, 1599.
Hold, hold, quoth Hudibras, soft fire,
They say, does make sweet malt, good Squire,
Festina lente, not too fast ;
For haste (the proverb says) makes waste.
Hudibras.
JOHN HEYWOOD.
And that deliberation doth men assist, Before they wed to beware of had I wist? And then their timely wedding doth cleerely appeere That they were early up, and never the neere. And once their hastie heate a little controlde, Then perceive they well, hot love soone colde? And when hastie witles mirth is mated weele, Good to be merie and wise? they thinke and feele.
2 Beware of had I wist.
A common exclamation of regret occurring in Spenser, Harrington and the older writers. " Beware of had-I-wist" is the title of a poem in the Paradise of Dainty Devices •, 1578 ; and in Witts Recreation, 1654, the expression is rhymed upon in an epitaph on one Walter Moon : —
Here lies Wat Moon, that great tobacconist, Who dye'd too soon for lack of had-I-wist.
An earlier instance of the application of this phrase is found in the Towneley Mysteries, circa 1420 : —
Be welle war of wedyng, and thynk in youre thought " Had I wist " is a thyng it servys of nought.
The term could not have been uncommon so late as 1827, in which year a Mr. Jeffries Taylor (Old English Sayings Ex- 'boundea) wrote a moral essay with the proverb as its title.
3 Hot love soone colde.
Dowghter, in this I can thinke none oother But that it is true thys proverbe old, Hastye love is soone hot and soone cold !
Play of Wyt and Science^ circa 1 540.
* Good to be merie and wise.
Touchstone. Did I gaine my wealth by ordinaries ? no ; by
8 THE PROVERBS OF
Haste in wedding some man thinketh his own availe, When haste proveth a rod made for his own taile. And when he is well beaten with his owne rod? Then seeth he haste and wisedome things far od ; And that in all, or most things, wisht at neede, Most times he seeth, the more haste the lesse speede. In lesse things than wedding, haste shew'th hastie mas
foe,
So that the hastie man never wanteth woe? These sage said sawes if ye take so profound, As ye take that by which ye tooke your ground, Then finde ye grounded cause by these now here told In haste to wedding your haste to withold.
changing of gold ? no. I hired me a little shop, fought low, tooke small gaine, kept no debt booke, garnished my shop, for want of plate, with good wholesome, thriftie sentences ; as, " Touchstone, keepe thy shoppe, and thy shoppe will keepe thee." " Light gaines make heavie purses." " Tis good to be merry and wise." — Eastward Hoe^ 1605, by CHAPMAN, MARSTON, and BEN JONSON.
5 Beaten with his owne rod.
don fust
Con kint sovent est-on batu.
Roman du Renart, circa 1300.
6 The hastie man never wanteth woe.
Mistress Touchstone. Thou wert afire to be a ladie, and now your ladiship and you may both blowe at the cole, for aught I know. " Selfe doe, selfe have." " The hastie man never wanteth woe " they say. — Eastward Hoe, act v. sc. i.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 9
r^
And though they seeme wives for you never so fit, Yet let not harmfull haste so far out run your wit : But that ye harke to heare all the whole summe That may please or displease you in time to cumme. Thus by these lessons ye may learne good cheape In wedding and all things to looke ere ye leaped Ye have even now well over lookte me, (quoth he), And leapt very nie me too. For I agree That these sage sayings doe weightily way Against hast in all thing, but I am at bay. By other parables of like weighty weight, Which hast me to wedding, as yee shall heare streight.
7 Looke ere ye leape.
In Tottet s Miscellany, 1557 ; and in Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry, 1573, by THOMAS TUSSER.
io THE PROVERBS OF
CHAPTER III.
I E that will not when he may.
When he would he shall have nay? Beautie or riches the tone of the twaine Now may I choose, and which me list obtaine. And if we determine me this mayde to take, And then tract of time traine her me to forsake, Then my beautifull manage lieth in the dike ; And never for beautie shall wed the like. Now if we award me this widow to wed, And that I drive off time, till time she be ded, Then farewell riches, the fat is in the fire? And never shall I to like riches aspire. And a thousand fold would it grieve me more That she in my faulte should die an houre before
8 He that will not, &>c.
In BURTON'S Anatomy of Melancholy, 1621:— He that will not when he may, When he will he shall have nay.
9 The fat is in the fire.
Phy. Faith, Doricus, thy braine boils ; keele it, keele it, or all the fatt's in the fire. — MARSTON'S What You Will, 1607.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 11
Than one minute after ; than haste must provoke When the pigge is proffer d to hold up the poke ; When the Sunne shineth make hay ; which is to say, Take time when time comth, lest time steale away. And one good lesson to this purpose I pike From the smith's forge, when th iron is hot, strike.™ The sure Seaman seeth, the tide tarieth no man^ And long delayes or absence somewhat to skan,
10 When ttt iron is hot, strike.
Birdlime. Strike whilst the iron is hot. A woman, when there be roses in her cheeks, cherries on her lips, civet in her breath, ivory in her teeth, lilies in her hand, and liquorice in her heart, why, she's like a play : if new, very good company ; but if stale, like old Jeronimo, go by, go by, therefore, as I said before, strike. Besides, you must think that the commodity of beauty was not made to lie dead upon any young woman's hands : if your husband have given up his cloak, let another take measure of you in his jerkin ; for as the cobbler in the night-time walks with his lantern, the merchant and the lawyer with his link, and the courtier with his torch, so every lip has its lettuce to himself: the lob has his lass, the collier his dowdy, the western-man his punk, the student his nun in Whitefriars, the puritan his sister, and the lord his lady ; which worshipful vocation may fall upon you, if you'll but strike whilst the iron is hot. — WEBSTER'S Westward Hoe, 1607.
Messieurs, ce pendant que le fer est chauld il le fault battre.
RABELAIS, ii. 31.
11 The tide tarieth no man.
In a poem by Robert Southwell, a work in every respect much above the average of the didactic poetry of that day, the prover- bial saying is introduced into a carefully wrought stanza : —
Hoist up saile while gale doth last, Tide and wind stay no man's pleasure ;
12 THE PROVERBS OF
Since that one will not another will,
Delayes in wooers must needes their speede spill.
And touching absence, the full account who somthe
Shall see, as fast as one goeth another comthe.
Time is tickle ; and out of sight, out of minde ; 12
Than catch and hold while I may, fast bindefastfinde.^
Seeke not time, when time is past,
Sober speed is wisedome's leisure ; After wits are dearely bought, Let thy fore wit guide thy thought. The poem continues : —
Time weares all his lockes before,
Take thou hold upon his forehead ; When he flies, he turnes no more,
And behinde his scalpe is naked. Workes adjourn'd have many stayes Long demurres breed hew delayes.
Seeke thy salve whilst sore is greene, Festered wounds aske deeper launcing ;
After-cures are seldome scene,
Often sought, scarce ever chancing.
Time and place gives best advice.
Out of season out of price.
St. Peter's Complaint, 1595.
12 Out of sight, out of minde.
The saying has been traced to the De Imitatione Christi, by Thomas a Kempis, written circa 1450 : — " Cum autem sublatus fuerit ab oculis, cito etiam transit a mente." It occurs, however, prior to this in an early English fragment : — " Fer from e3e, fer from herte " Quoth Hendyng.
Proverbs of Hendyng, ms. circa 1320.
13 Fast binde fast finde. Shylock. Well, Jessica, go in ;
JOHN HEYWOOD. 13
Blame mee not to hast for feare myne eye bee blerde. And thereby the fat cleane flitte fro my berde. Where wooers hop in and out, long time may bring Him that hoppeth best, at last to have the ring. I hopping without for a ring of a rush, And while I at length debate and beate the bush, There shall steppe in other men and catch the burdes.1* And by long time lost in many vaine wurdes, Betweene these two wives make sloth speed confound, While betweene two stooles my taile goe to the ground^
Perhaps, I will return immediately ; Do, as I bid you,
Shut doors after you ; Fast bind, fast find ; A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.
Merchant of Venice, ii. 5. Wherefore a plaine bargain is best, and in bargaines making ; fast bind, fast find.— Jests of Scogin, 1565.
14 While I beate the bush, &c.
I beat the bush, and others catch the bird, Reason exclaimes and sweares my hap is hard. Philochasander and Elanira, 1599, by HENRY PETTO WE. It is this proverb which Henry the Fifth is reported to have uttered at the siege of Orleans, when the citizens, besieged by the English, declared themselves willing to yield the town to the Duke of Burgundy, who was in the English camp. " Shall I beat the bush, and another take the bird ?" said King Henry. The Duke was so offended that he withdrew his troops and concluded a peace.
15 Betweene two stooles, &c.
A proverb found in a French manuscript of the I4th century : — A grant folie entent Qui deus choses enprent
14 THE PROVERBS OF
By this, since we see slouth must breed a scab.
Best sticke to the tone out of hand, hab or nab.
Thus all your proverbs inveying against hast,
Be answered with proverbs plaine and promptly plast,
Whereby to purpose all this no further fits,
But to shew, so many heads so many wits^
Which shew, as surely in all that they all tell,
That in my wedding I may even as well
Tary too long and thereby come to late,
As come too soone by hast in any rate ;
And prove this proverbe as the wordes thereof goe,
Hast or sloth herein woorke neither welth nor woe.
E nule ne acheive ; Savey hi 1'en dessert : L/une par autre pert E sei meismes greves. Entre deux arcouns chet cul a terre. Les Proverbes del Vilain, MS. Bodleian, circa 1300. . Is afterwards used by RABELAIS, Gargantua, liv. i. c. ii.
" S'asseoir entre deux selles le cul a terre." 16 So many heads so many wits.
For amonge feaders are alwayes sondry appetytes, and in great assemblyes of people, dyvurse, and varyaunt judgements ; as the saynge is,, so many heades, so many wyttes. — Godly Meditacyon of the Christen Sowle, by QUEEN ELIZABETH, 1548.
Phylautus. Ah, sirha, I see wel the olde proverbe is true, which saith : so many men so many mindes. — GASCOIGNE'S Glasse of Government, 1575.
Quot homines tot sententiae.
TERENCE.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 15
Be it far or nie, wedding is destiny y
And hanging likewise 17, sayth the proverbe, sayd I.
Then wedde or hang, (quoth he), what helpeth in the
whole,
To hast or to hang aloofe, happy man happy dole.™ Ye deale this dole, (quoth I), out at a wrong dur, For destiny in this case doth not so stur Agaynst mans indeavour, but man may direct His will, fore provision to worke or neglect. But to shew that quick wedding may bring good
speed,
Somewhat to purpose your proverbs prove indeede. Howbeit, whether they counterpaise or outway The proverbes which I before them did lay,
17 Wedding is destiny and hanging likewise.
An earlier mention of the saying, " Hanging and wiving go by destiny," is found in the Schole-hous for Women, 1541. In 1558, a ballad was licensed with the title " The Proverbe is true y l Wed- dynge is destinye."
18 " Happy man be your dole" was an exclamation implying a wish for success to any one engaging in a contest or entering upon an undertaking.
Mine honest friend,
Will you take eggs for money ? Mam. No, my lord, I'll fight. Leo. You will ? why, happy man be his dole !
Winters Tale, i. 2.
Happy man be his dole that misses her.
Grim the Collier of Croydon.
16 THE PROVERBS OF
The trial thereof we will lay a water ^ Til we trye more. For trying of which mater, Declare all commodities ye can devise, That by those two weddings to you can rise.
CHAPTER IV.
U<
WILL, (quoth he), in both these cases
streight show What things, (as I thinke), to me by them
will grow.
And where my love began, there begin will I With this maide, the peece peereles in mine eie, Whom I so favour, and she so favoureth me, That halfe a death to us tis asunder to be. Affection each to other doth us so move, That welny without food we could live by love ; For be I right sad or right sicke from her sight, Her presence absenteth all maladies quight ; Which sheweth that the great ground in manage,
19 Lay a water.
If he had broke his arme. .... either Apollo must have played Bonesetter, or every occupation beene laide a water.— GOSSON'S Schoole of Abuse, 1579.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 17
Standeth upon liking the parties personage.
And then of old proverbs, in opening the pack,
One shew'th me openly, in love is no lack ;
No lack of liking, but lack of living.
Nay lack in love, (quoth I), may breed its chieving.
Well as to that, (said he), harke this one thing,
What time I lack not her, I lack nothing.
But though we have nought, nor nought we can get,
God never send'th mouth but he sendeth meat :
And a hard beginning makth a good ending :
In space comth grace and this further amending,
Seldome comth the better™ and like will to like : l
God send'th cold after clothes ; 2 and this I pike,
She, by lack of substance, seeming but a sparke,
Steinth yet the stoutest : for a legge of a larke
20 Seldome comth the better.
This change is like to the rest of worldy chaunges, that is, from the better to the worse : For as the Proverb sayth : Seldome corns the better. — English Courtier and Coimtry Gentleman, 1586.
1 Like 'will to like.
— like to like, ye ken — it's a proverb never fails ; and ye are baith a pair o' the deevil's peats,! trow — hard to ken whilk deserves the hottest corner o' his ingleside. — Heart of Midlothian.
2 God send'th cold after clothes.
" Dieu donne le froid selon la robbe," is the French form of this proverb, found in Les Premices, 1594, by HENRY ESTIENNE.
C
i8 THE PROVERBS OF
Is better than is the bodie of a kight ; 3
And home is homely, though it be poore in sight.
These proverbs for this part shew such a flourish,
And then this partie doth delight to nourish ;
That much is my bow bent to shoot at these markes,
And kill feare ; when the skiefalthwe shall have Larkes*
All perils that fall may, who feareth they fall shall,
Shall so feare all things that he shall let fall all ;
And be more fray d then hurt, if the things be done ;
Feare may force a man to cast beyond the mooned
Who hopeth in Gods helpe, his helpe cannot start,
Nothing is impossible to a willing hart.
And will may winne my hart herein to consent
3 A legge of a larke, &C.
Gyrtrude. I would not change husbands with my sister ; I " The legge of a larke is better than the body of a kite."
Mistress Touchstone. Know that ; but —
Gyrtrude. What, sweet mother, what ?
Mistress Touchstone. It's but ill food when nothing's left bu the claw. — Eastward Hoe, by CHAPMAN, MARSTON, and BEIS JONSON, 1605.
4 When the skie faith we shall have Larkes.
Si les nues tomboyent esperoyt prendre les alouettes. — RABE LAIS, Gargantua.
5 "To cast beyond the moon" is a proverbial phrase, in frequen use by the old writers to signify attempting impossibilities.
But oh, I talk of things impossible And cast beyond the moon.
A Woman K UP d with Kindness , 1607.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 19
To take all things as it comth, and be content. And here is, (quoth he), in marying of this mayde, For courage and commoditie all myne ayde. Well sayd, (quoth I), but a while keepe me in quench, All this case, as touching this poore young wench. And now declare your whole consideration, What maner thinges draw your imagination, Toward your wedding of this widow rich and olde ? That shall ye, (quoth he), out of hand have told.
CHAPTER V.
HIS Widow being foule and of favour ill, In good behaviour can very good skill : Pleasantly spoken, and a very good wit ; And at her table when we together sit, I am well served ; we fare of the best. The meate good and holsome and holsomely drest : Sweet and soft lodging, and thereof great shift ; This felt and seene with all implementes of thrift, Of plate and money, such cupboordes and coffers, And that without penie I may win these proffers. Than covetyse bearing Venus bargayne backe, Pray sing this bargayne sayth, better leave then lacke*
20 THE PROVERBS OF
And greedines to draw desire to her lore,
Saith, that the wise man sayth, store is no sore.
Who hath many Pease may put the mo in the pot ;
Of two Us chose the least? while choise lyeth in lot.
Since lacke is an ill, as ill as man may have ;
To provide for the worst, while the best it selfe save ;
Resty welth wilth me 7 this widow to winne,
To let the world wagge? and take mine ease in myne
Inne? He must needes swim that is hold tip by the chinne ; 10
6 Of two Us chose the least.
Of harmes two the lesse is for to cheese.
CHAUCER, Troilus and Cressida.
7 Resty welth wilth me, i. e., rusty wealth compels me, &c. Reastie or rusty, in the sense of rancid, is generally applied by the old writers to provisions.
From rusty bacon, and ill rested eeles,
And from a madding wit that runnes on wheels.
Witfs Recreations, 1634.
8 Let the world wagge.
An exclamation almost identical with this occurs in the old morality, The iiii. Elements, 1510 ; and again more humorously in Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew.
Sly. Y'are a baggage ; the Slies are no rogues ; Look in the chronicles, we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore, paucas pallabris ; let the world slide.
9 Mine ease in myne Inne.
Falstaff. Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn, but I shall have my pocket picked? — i Henry IV. iii. 2.
10 He must needes swim that is hold up by the chinne.
In S co gin's Jests, 1565.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 21
He laugth that wintk.11 And this threed finer to spinne,
Mayster promotion sayth, make this substance sure ;
If riches bring ones portly countenance in ure,12
Then shalt thou rule the rost 13 all round about ;
And better to rule than to be ruled by the rout.
It is sayd, be it better be it wurse,
Doe you after him that beareth the purse.
Thus be I by this, once le senior de graunde,
Many that command me, I shall commaunde.
And also I shall to revenge former hurtes,
Hold their noses to grinstone, and sit on their skurtes,
That erst sate on myne. And riches may make
Frendes many wayes. Thus better to give then to take.
And to make carnall appetite content,
11 He laugth that wintk.
The reverse side of this proverb is the more common. Give losers leave to talk.
TAYLOR'S Arrant Thiefe, 1622.
I, I, wele give loosers leave to talke : it is no matter what sic probo and his pennilesse companions prate, whilst we have the gold in our coffers. — N ASH'S Pierce Penilesse, 1592.
12 Ure, an Anglo-Norman word equivalent to the French heure, of which word it is a corruption. This is one of the latest instances of the application of the word, which was current in the time of Chaucer.
13 Rule the rost.
But at the pleasure of me That ruleth the roste alone.
SKELTON'S Colyn Cloute, circa 1518.
22 THE PROVERBS OF
Reason laboreth will, to win wil's consent, To take lacke of beauty but as an eie sore™ The fayre and the foule by darke are like store. When all candles bee out all cattes be gray ; All things are then of one colour, as who say : And this proverbe sayth, for quenching hot desire, Foule water as sone as fayre will quench hot fire. Where giftes be given freely, East, West, North or
South,
No man oitght to looke a given horse in the mouth.16 And though her mouth be foule, shee hath a faire taile ; I conster this text, as is most my availe. In want of wThite teeth and yellow hayres to behold, Shee flourisheth in white silver and yellow gold. What though she be toothles and bald as a coote ? Her substance is shoote ankre whereat I shoote.
14 An eie sore.
Quod the Barbour, but a lytell eye sore.
Mery Jests of the Wyddow Edyth, 1525.
15 No man ought to looke a given horse in the mouth.
This proverb occurs in Vulgaria StamMgt9prmted by Wynkyn de Worde and Peter Trevaris, circa 1510.
" A gyven hors may not be loked in the tethe."
Archbishop Trench (Proverbs and their Lessons] observes of this saying : —
" I will not pretend to say how old it may be, but it is certainly as old as Jerome, a Latin father of the fourth century ; who when some found fault with certain writings of his, replies with a tart-
JOHN HEYWOOD. 23
Take a payne for a pleasure all wise men can ; What, hungry dogges will eate durty puddinges, man ? lf) And here I conclude, (quoth he,) all that I know, By this old widow, what good to me may grow.
CHAPTER VI.
|E have, (quoth I), in these conclusions found Sundry things that very saverly sound ; And both these long cases, being well viewde,
In one short question we may well inclewde ;
Which is, whether best or woorst be to be ledde ^
With riches, without love or beauty, to wedde ;
Or with beauty without riches for love.
This question, (quoth he), inquir'th all that I move.
It doth so, (said I), and is neerly couched,
But th' answere will not so briefly be touched ;
ness which he could occasionally exhibit, that they were voluntary on his part, free-will offerings, and with this quoted the proverb, that it did not behove to look a gift horse in the moicth. And before it comes to us, we meet it once more in one of the rhymed Latin verses, which were such great favourites in the middle ages. Si quis dat mannos, ne quaere in dentibus annos.
16 Hungry dogges •, &>c.
There is another proverb which declares that a hungry man will eat anything, except Suffolk cheese.
24 THE PROVERBS OF
<And your selfe, to length it, taketh (direct trade,17 For all reasons that I have yet made, Yee seeme more to seeke reasons how to contend, Than to the counsell of mine to condiscend. And to be playne, as I must with my frend, I perfectly feele even at my fingers end ; So hard is your hand set on your halfpeny™ That my reasoning your reason setteth naught by. But reason for reason, yee so stifly lay, By proverbe for proverbe, that with you doe way, That reason onely shall herein nought move you To heare more then speake, wherefore I will prove you With reason assisted by experience, Which myself saw, not long since nor farre hence, In a matter so like this fashiond in frame, That none can be liker, it seemeth even the same. And in the same, as your selfe shall espy, Each sentence soothed with a proverbe welny. And at ende of the same, yee shall cleerly see,
17 Trade, i.e. a way, a means.
Long did I serve this lady, Long was my travel, long my trade to win her.
MASSINGER, Very Woman.
18 So hard is your hand set on your halfpeny.
Ri. Dromio, looke heere, now is my hand on my half-peny. Half. Thou liest, thou hast not a farthing to lay thy hands on. Mother Bombie, by JOHN LYLY, 1594,
JOHN HEYWOOD.
How this short question shortly answered may bee.
Ye may, (quoth he), now yee shoote nie the pricke j1
Practise in all, above all toucheth the quicke.
Proofe upon practise, must take hold more sure
Then any reasoning by gesse can procure.
If ye bring practise in place, without fabling,
I will banish both hast and busie babling.
And yet that promise to performe is mickell,
For in this case my tong must oft tickell.
Ye know well it is, as telth us this old tale,
Meete that a man be at his owne brydale.20
If he wive well, (quoth I), meete and good it were ;
Or els as good for him another were there.
But for this your bridale, I meane not in it,
That silence shall suspend your speech every whit.
But in these manages which ye here meve,
Since this tale containeth the counsell I can geve,
I would see your eares attend with your tong ;
For advyse in both these weddinges old and yong.
19 Pricke^ i.e. the centre of a target. The word was used to signify any particular spot ; in the old copies of Euclid it is printed where we now read " point."
20 Brydale, a wedding festivity.
There were bride-ales, church-ales, clerk- ales, give-ales, lamb- ales, leet-ales, Midsummer-ales, Scot-ales, Whitsun-ales, and several more. — BRAND'S Popular Antiquities.
26 THE PROVERBS OF
In which hearing, tyme scene when and what to talk When your tong tickleth, at will let it walke. And in these brydales, to the reasons of ours, Marke mine experience in this case of yours.
CHAPTER VII.
^ITHIN few yeares past, from London no
far way, Where I and my wife with our poore hous-
hold lay :
Two yong men were abyding, whom to discrive, Were I in portraying persons dead or alive, As cunning and as quicke, to touch then at full, As in that feat I am ignorant and dull ; Never could I paynt their pictures to allow, More lively than to paynt the picture of you. And as your three persons shew one similitude, So shew you three one in all things to be viewd. Lykewise a widow and a mayde there did dwell ; Alyke, lyke the widow and mayde ye of tell. The frendes of them foure in every degree, Standing in state as the frendes of you three. Those two men each other so hasted or taried, That those two women on one day they maryed.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 27
Into two houses, which next my house did stand, The one on the right, the other on the left hand, Both Bridegromes bad mee ; I could doe none other, But dyne with the tone, and suppe with the tother. He that wedded this Widow rich and olde, And also she favoured me so, that they would Make me dyne or suppe once or twyce in a weeke. This poore young man and his make,1 being to seeke As oft where they might eate or drinke, I them bad, Were I at home, to such pittaunce as I had. Which common conference such confidence wrought In them to me that deed, woord, ne welny thought Chaunced among them, what ever it were, But one of the foure brought it to mine eare. Whereby betweene these twaine and their two wives, Both for wealth and woe, I knew all their four lives. And since the matter is much intricate, Betweene side and side, I shall here separate All matters on both sides, and then sequestrate Th' one side, while th' other be full reherst in rate,
1 His make, i. e. his wife. *
All your parishoners, As well your laicks, as your quiristers, Had need to keep to their warm feather-beds, If they be sped of loves ; this is no season To seek new makes in.
BEN JONSON, Tale of a Tub^ i. i.
28 THE PROVERBS OF
As for your understanding may best stand ; And this young poore couple shall come first in hand. Who, the day of wedding and after a while, Could not looke each on other but they must smile, As a whelpe for wantonnes in and out whippes, So plaide these twaine, as mery as three chippes. Yea, there was God, (quoth he), when all is doone. Abyde, (quoth I), it was yet but hony moone ; The blacke oxe had not trade on his nor her foote ; * But ere this braunch of blisse could reach any roote, The flowers so faded that in fifteene weekes, A man might espye the change in their cheekes. Both of this poore wretch and his wife this poore
wench,
Their faces tolde toies that Totnam was turnd French? And all their light laughing turnd and translated
2 The blacke oxe, &c.
This proverb, meaning to fall into decrepitude or experience misfortune, occurs again in Lyly's Sapho and Phao, 1584:
Venus waxeth old : and then she was a pretie wench, when Juno was a young wife ; now crowes foote is on her eye, and the black oxe hath trod on her foot.
3 Totnam was turnd French.
A phrase implying a great alteration. It takes its origin from the migration of a number of French workmen to this locality early in the reign of Henry VIII. Their competition provoked the jealousy of English mechanics, and resulted in disturbances in the streets of London on May-day, 1517.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 29
Into sad sighing ; all mirth was amated.4 And one morning timely he tooke in hand To make to my house a sleeveless errand? Hauking upon me, his minde herein to breake, Which I would not see till he began to speake, Praying me to heare him ; and I sayd, I would. Wherewith this that followeth forthwith he tould.
4 Amated) dismayed.
That I amazed and amated am,
To see Great Brittaine turn'd to Amsterdam.
TAYLOR'S Mad Fashions, 1642.
5 A sleeveless errand.
The origin of the word sleeveless, in the sense of unprofitable, has defied the most careful philological research. I would sug- gest that the phrase originated in the mediaeval custom of favoured knights wearing the sleeve of their mistress as a mark of favour ; such aspirants as failed to obtain the badge being dubbed as sleeveless. Spenser writes — " Sir Launcelot wore the sleive of the faire maide of Asteloth in a tourney, whereat queene Guenever was much displeased." The word sleeveless is frequently found allied to other substantives. Bishop Hall speaks of the "sleeveless tale of transubstantiation," and Milton writes of a " sleeveless reason." Chaucer uses it in the "Testament of Love," and three centuries afterwards its place in popular estimation appears from a passage in Addison's " Spectator:" — " My landlady quarrelled with him for sending every one of her children on a sleeveless errand, as she calls it."
30 THE PROVERBS OF
it
CHAPTER VIII.
AM now driven, (quoth he), for ease of my hart,
To you, to utter part of mine inward smart. And the matter concerneth my wife and mee, Whose fathers and mothers long since dead bee, But uncles, with auntes and cosins have wee, Divers rich on both sides, so that we did see If we had wedded, each, where each kindred would, Neither of us had lackt either silver or gold. But never could suite on either side obtaine One peny to the one wedding of us twaine. And since our one marying, or marring, day, Where any of them see us they shrinke away, Solemnly swearing such as may give ought, Whyle they and we live, of them we get right nought. Nor nought have we, nor no way ought can we get, Saving by borrowing til we be in det, So far that no man any more will us lend, Whereby for lacke we both be at our wittes end. Whereof no wonder since the end of our good,
JOHN HEYWOOD. 31
And beginning of our charge together stood.
But wit is never good till it be bought?
Howbeit when bought wits to best price be brought,
Yet is one good fore-wit woorth two after wits.
This payeth me home loe and ful moe folly hits,
For had I lookt afore with indifferent eye,
Though hast had made me thrust never so dry,
Yet to drowne this drought this must I needes thinke,
As I would needes brewe so must I needes drinke:1
The drinke of my bride cup I should have forborne,
Till temperance had tempred the tast beforne.
I see now and shall see while I am alive,
Who wedtli ere he be wise shall die ere he thrive.
I sing now in this factfactits est repente,
Now myne eyes be open I doe repent me,
He that will sell lawne before he can fold it.
He shall repent him before he have sold it.
6 Wit is never good, &>c.
Stationers could not live, if men did not beleeve the old saying, that Wit bought is better then Wit taught. — Conceits, Clinches, Flashes and Whimsies, 1639.
7 As I would needes brewe, so must I needes drinke.
One of a whole family of proverbs pointing out the connec- tion between the cause and the result.
If you have browen wel, you shal drinke the better.
WODROEPHE'S Spared Hour es of a Souldier, 1623.
32 THE PROVERBS OF
Some bargains deare bought, good cheape* would be
sold ;
No man loveth his fetters, be they made of gold? Were I loose from the lovely linkes of my chaine, I would not daunce in such faire fetters againe, In house to kepe houshold, when fo Ikes will needes wed, Moe thinges belong then four e bare legges in a bed. 10 I reckened my wedding a suger sweete spice, But reckeners without their host must recken twice.11 And although it were sweet for a weeke or twaine, Sweete meate will have sowre sawce, I see now plaine. Continuall penury, which I must take,
8 Good cheape.
Cheap iz market ; good cheap r= bon marchd. He buys other men's cunning good cheap in London, and sels it deare in the country. — DECKER'S Belman's Night-walks.
9 No man loves his fetters, &°c.
Who would weare fetters though they were all of gold ? Or to be sicke, though his faint browes, For wearing Night-cap, wore a Crown.
Famous History of Sir Thomas Wyatt, 1607, by WEBSTER.
10 Foure bare legges in a bed.
Furthermore it shall be lawful for him that marries without money to find four bare legs in a bed : and he that is too pro- digal in spending, shall die a beggar by the statute. — Pennilesse Parliament of Threadbare Poets, 1608.
11 Reckeners without their host must recken twice.
11 Comptoit sans son hoste."
RABELAIS, Gargantua.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 33
Telth me, better eie out then alway ake.
Boldly and blindly I ventred on this,
How be it, who so bold as blinde Bayard is f1-
And herein to blame any man, then should I rave,
For I did it my selfe : and selfe doe, selfe have.™
But a day after thefaire, commeth this remorse
For releife ; for though it be a good horse
That never stumbleth^ what praise can that avouch
To jades that breake their neckes at first trip or touch ?
And before this my first foile or breakneck fall,
Subtilly like a sheepe, though[t] I, I shall
Cut my cote after my cloth 15 when I have her.
12 Who so bold as blinde Bayard is ?
This proverb is applied where persons act without consider- ation or reflection. Its antiquity is apparent from its occurring in The Vision of Piers the Ploughman , 1362, and in CHAUCER'S Canterbury Tales. The word " bayard" originally meant a grey horse, a meaning which was afterwards extended to denote a horse in general; and Skelton mentions a description of horse-loaf called bayard's bun. It will be remembered that Rinaldo's horse in Ariosto's great work is called Baiardo.
13 Selfe doe, selfe have.
Yea, said shee, selfe do, selfe have : many a man thinketh to doe another man a shrewd turne and it turneth oftimes to his owne selfe. — Mery Tales of the Mad Men of Gotham, circa 1450.
14 A good horse that never stumbleth,
A good horse that trippeth not once in a journey. — Three Proper and Wittie Familiar Letters, 1580.
15 Cut my cote after my cloth.
A relic of the Sumptuary Laws, one of the earliest allusions to
D
34 THE PROVERBS OF
But now I can smell, nothing hath no saver.
I am taught to know, in more hast then good speede,
How Judicare came into the Creede.
My carefull wife in one corner weepeth in care,
And I in an other ; the purse is threed-bare.
This corner of our care, (quoth he), I you tell,
To crave therein your comfortable counsell.
CHAPTER IX.
AM sory (quoth I), of your poverty ;
And more sory, that I cannot succour yee.
If yee sturre your neede myne almes to stur,
Then of troth yee beg at a wrong mans dur. I come to begge nothing of you, (quoth hee), Save your advice, which may my best way bee ;
which occurs 1 530, in the interlude of Godly Queene Hestor, where Pride complains that no one can wear gay apparel since Raman has bought up all the cloth.
You, with your fraternitie, in these latter dayes, cannot be con- tent to shape your Coate according to your Cloth. — A Health tc the Gentlemanly Profession of Servingmen, 1598.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 35
How to win present salve for this present sore. I am like th' ill surgeon, (sayd I), without store Of good playsters. Howbeit such as they are, Yee shall have the best I have. But first declare Where yours and your wives rich kinsfolkes do dwell. Envyronned about us, (quoth hee), which sheweth
well,
The neer to the church, the further from God.^ Most part of them dwell within a thousand rod ; And yet shall wee catch a hare with a taberf1 As soone as catch ought of them, and rather. Ye play coleprophet, (quoth I), who tak'th in hand, To know his answere before he do his errand. What should I to them, (quoth hee), fling or flitte ? A n unbidden guest knoweth not where to sit. [ am cast at cartes arse ; some folke in lacke
16 The neer to the church, &c.
Qui est pres da Feglise est souvent loin de Dieu. — Les Pro- verbes Communs, circa 1 500.
17 Catch a hare with a taber.
One day after the set of this comet men shall catch hares with tabers. . . . Such as are inclined to the dropsy may be cured if the phisitions know how : and if there be no great store of
empests, two halfe penny loves shall be solde for a penny in White- Chappell. Chaucer's bookes shall this yeere prove more witty thin ever they were. — Fearefull and Lamentable Effects of Two dangerous Comets. By SlMON SMEL-KNAVE, Stu'dient in
iood Felowshipxi59i.
36 THE PROVERBS OF
Cannot prease : a broken sleeve holdeth th arme
backe ; 18
And shame holdeth me backe, being thus forsaken. Tush man, (quoth I), shame is as it is taken. And shame take him that shame thinketh yee have
none.
Unminded, unmoned ; goe make your mone Till meate fall in your mouth ; will yee lye in bed, Or sit still ? nay, hee that gap eth till hee bee fed May fortune to fast and famish for hanger. Set forward, yee shall never labour yonger. Well, (quoth hee), if I shall needes this viage make With as good will as a Beare goth to the stake, I will strayght waie anker, and hoise up sayle, And thitherward hie me in hast like a snayle, And home againe hitherward quicke as a Bee ; Now for good lucke, cast an old shooe after mee. lp
18 A broken sleeve holdeth t ft arme backe.
It is a terme with John and Jacke, Broken sleeve draweth arme a backe.
Par la ment of Byrdes, 1550. Johphiel. Reach forth your hand. Meere Foole. O sir, a broken sleeve Keepes the arm back, as tis the proverbe.
The Fortunate Isles, 1624, by BEN JONSON.
19 Cast an old shooe after mee.
Captain, your shoes are old, pray put 'em off, And let one fling 'em after us. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER, Honest Man's Fortune.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 37
And first to myne uncle, brother to my father,
By suite, I will assay to winne some faver :
Who brought me up, and till my wedding was don,
Loved me not as his nephew, but as his son.
And his heire had I bin, had not this chaunced,
Of lands and goods which should me much avaunced.
Trudge, (quoth I), to him, and on your maribones
Crouch to the ground, and not so oft as ones
Speake any one woord him to contrary.
I can not tell that, (quoth he), by saint Mary ;
One ill woord axeth another, as folkes speake.
Well, (quoth I), better is to bow then breake ;20
^c o ^ // hurteth not the toung to giite faire woordes ;^
The rough net is not the best catcher of burdes. Since ye can nought winne, if ye can not please,
20 Better is to bow then breake.
Probably the earliest example of the use of this proverb is that in The Morale Proverbs of Cristyne ; originally written in French about the year 1390 and of which a verse translation by Earl Rivers was printed by Caxton in 1478. The following is the form in which it is found in the latter version : —
Rather to bo we than breke is profitable, Humylite is a thing commendable.
1 // hurteth not the toung to geuefayre woordes.
Gertrude. Come away, I say ; hunger drops out at his nose. Goulding. O, madam, faire words never hurt the tongue. Eastward Hoe, 1605, by JONSON, CHAPMAN, and MARSTON.
38 THE PROVERBS OF
Best is to suffer : for of suffrance comtk ease" Cause causeth, (quoth he) ; and as cause causeth me, So will I doo. And with this away went he. Yet whether his wife should goe with him or no, He sent her to me to know ere he would goe. Whereto I sayde, I thought best he went alone ; And you, (quoth I), to goe streight as he is gone, Among your kinsfolke likewise, if they dwell nye. Yes, (quoth she), all round about even hereby. Namely, an aunt, my mother's sister, who well, (Since my mother died), brought me up from the shell ; And much would have geven me, had my wedding
growne
Upon her fansie, as it grewe upon myne owne. And in likewise myne uncle, her husband, was A father to me. Well, (quoth I), let pas : And if your husbande will his assent graunt, Yf Goe, he to his uncle, and you to your aunt. Yes, this assent he graunteth before, (quoth she) ; For he ere this thought this the best way to be ; But of these two thinges he would determine none Without aid. For two heads are better then one. With this wee departed, shee to her husband, And I to dinner to them on th' other hand.
2 Of suffrance comth ease.
He give a proverbe — Sufferance giveth ease.
MARSTON'S What you Will, 1607.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 39
CHAPTER X.
dinner was done I came home agayne To attend on the returne of these twayne ; And ere three howres to ende were fully
tryde, Home came she first ; welcome, (quoth I), and well
hyde.
Yea, a short horse is soone currid, (quoth shee) ; But the weaker hath the woorse we all may see. And after our last parting, my husband and I Departed, each to place agreed formerly. Myne uncle and aunt on me did loure and glome, Both bad me good speed, but none bad me welcome. Their folkes glomd on me too, by which it appeareth, The yong cocke croweth as he the old heareth. At dinner they were, and made, (for manners' sake), A kinswoman of ours me to table take ; A false flattring filth, and if that be good, None better to beare two faces in one hood?
3 To beare two faces in one hood.
Alberto. Not play two parts in one? away, away, 'tis common fashion. Nay, if you cannot bear two subtle fronts under one hood ; ideot, goe by, goe by ; off this world's stage ! O times im- puritie ! — Antonio and Mellida, 1602.
40 THE PROVERBS OF
She speaketh as shee would creepe into your bosome. And when the meale mouth hath woon the bottome Of your stomacke, then will the pickthanke4 it tell To your most enimies you to buy and sell. To tell tales out of schoole, that is her great lust. Looke what shee knowth, blab it wist and out it must? There is no moe such titifyls in Englandes ground, To hold with the hare and run with the hound. Fyre in the tone hand and water in the tother, The makebate beareth betweene brother and brother. She can winke on the yew and werye the lam ; She maketh earnest matters of every flimflam ; Shel'e have an ore in every man's barge ;6 And no man may chat ought in ought of her charge. Coll under candlestick'1 shee can play on both handes ;
4 Pickthanke is an opprobrious term to denote a person who tries to place people under small obligations by performing trivial services. In Henry IV., Pt. I. iii. 2, " smiling pick- thanks and base news mongers."
5 Blab it wist and out it must.
Labbe hyt whyste and owt yt muste.
MS. Harleian, circa 1490.
6 Have an ore in every maris barge.
Somewhat earlier, the proverb is found in a ballad entitled " Long have I bene a singing man," by John Redford, circa 1 540.
7 Coll under candlestick.
There was a Christmas game so called. The meaning of " coll " is to embrace, to kiss.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 41
Dissimulation well she understandes.
She is lost with an apple and woon with a mit;*
Her toung is no edge-too le but yet it will cut.
But little titte all tayle ; I have heard ere this,
As high as two horse loves ^ her person is.
For privy nips or castes overthwart10 the shinnes,
Hee shall leese the maistry that with her beginnes.
Shee is, to turne love to hate, or joy to greefe,
A paterne as meete as a rope for a theefe.
Her promise of friendship for any availe,
Is as sure to hold as an ele by the tayle.
Shee is nether fish, nor flesh, nor good red herring.^
Shee is a ringleader there. And I fearing
8 Lost with an apple and woon with a nut.
Exactly similar to this is the proverb occurring in GASCOIGNE'S I Ferdinando : —
Nor woman true, but even as stories tell Wonne with an egge and lost againe with shell.
9 As high as two horse loves.
It was formerly not unusual to feed horses on loaves of bread, composed of wheat and beans. These loaves became jocularly a standard of measurement.
Her stature scant three horse loaves did exceed. — HARRING- TON'S Ariosto.
10 Overthwart.
It is singular that the word " overthwart," though common with his contemporaries, is not once used by Shakespeare.
11 Nether fish, nor flesh, nor good red herring.
I have discovered no earlier instance of the use of this proverb, though a simpler form is frequently to be met with, as : —
42 THE PROVERBS OF
She would spit her venim, thought it not evil
To set up a candle before the devill.1*
I clawd her by the backe in way of a charme,
To do me, not the more good, but the lesse harme ;
Praying her, in her eare, on my syde to houlde ;
Shee thereto swearing by her false fayth, she would.
Streight after dinner myne aunt had no choice,
But other burst, or burst out in Pilats voice.
Yee huswife, what wind blowth ye hyther this night ?
Yee might have knockt ere ye came in, leave is light.
Better unborne then untaught™ I have heard say ;
But ye be better fed then taught farre away.
Not very fat fed, sayd this flebergebet ;14
Prince Henry. An otter, sir John ! why an otter ? Falstaff. Why ? she is neither fish nor flesh ; a man knows not where to have her.
Later the proverb occurs in DRYDEN, Epilogue to the Duke of Guise : —
Damned neuters in their middle way of steering, Are neither fish nor flesh nor good red herring.
12 To set up a candle before the devill.
Roger. Troth Mistresse, what doe I looke like now ?
Bella/route. Like as you are : a panderly, sixpenny rascall.
Roger. I may thanke you for that : in faith I looke like an old Proverbe, Hold the candle before the devill.— DECKER'S Honest W , 1604.
13 Better unborne then untaught.
Old men yn proverbe sayde by old tyme, ' A chyld were beter to be unbore, Than to be untaught/ — SYMON'S Lessons of Wysedome for all Maner Chyldryn, circa 1450.
14 Flebergebet.
Fratteretto, Fleberdigebet, Hoberdidanas, Torobatto, were four
JOHN HEY WOOD. 43
But neede hath no law; need maketh her hither jet. She comth, neece Ales, (quoth she), for that is her name, More for neede than for kyndnes, peine of shame. Howbeit she cannot lacke, for he fyndeth that seekes ; Lovers live by love as Larkes live by leekes ; Sayd this Ales, much more than halfe in mockage. Tush, (quoth myne aunt), these lovers in dotage Thinke the ground beare them not, but wed of corage They must in all hast ; though a leafe of borage Might buye all the substance that they can sell. Well aunt, (quoth Ales), all is well that cndes well. Yea, Ales, of a good beginning comth a good end.15 Not so good to borow, as be able to lend. Nay indeed aunt, (quoth she), it is sure so ; She must needes graunt she hath wrought her own woe. She thought, Ales, shee had seene far in a milstone^
devils of the round or morice ; these four had forty assistants under them, as themselves do confesse. — HARSENET'S Declara- tion of Popish Impostures.
15 Of a good beginning comth a good end.
But in proverbe I have herde saie, That who that well his warke beginneth, The rather a good ende he winneth.
GOWER, Confessio A mantis.
16 Seene far in a mi 1st one.
Another illustration of the early use of this proverbial saying may be culled from LYLY'S Euphues and his England.
Then Fidus, your eies are so sharp that you cannot onely looke through a milstone, but cleane through the minde, and so cunning that you can levell at the dispositions of women you never knew.
44 THE PROVERBS OF
When she got a husband, and namely such one,
As they by wedding could not onely nought win,
But lose both living and love of all their kin.
Good aunt, (quoth I), humbly I beseech yee,
My trespasse done unto you forgive it me.
I know and knowledge I have wrought mine own payne,
But thinges past my handes, I can not call agayne.
True, (quoth Ales), thinges done cannot be undone,
Be they done in due tyme, too late or too soone :
But better late then never11 to repent this.
Too late, (quoth myne aunt), this repentaunce shewd
is;
When the steede is stolne shut the stable durre™ I tooke her for a rose, but she breedeth a bur re.
17 Better late then never.
Again in TUSSER'S Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry .
18 When the steede is stolne shut the stable diirre.
Quant fol par noun saver Ad perdu soun aver, E il est ben matez E ?eus garder nel saver Mes si ore le avei Touz tens averei asez
Quant le cheval est enable* dounke ferme fols Testable. Ces dist le vilain.
Les Proverbes del Vilain, circa 1300.
The steede was stollen before I shut the gate, The cates consumed before I smelt the feast.
Devises of Sundrie Gentlemen.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 45
Shee comth to sticke to me now in her lacke,
Rather to rent off my clothes from my backe,
Than to doe me one farthing woorth of good.
/ see day at this title hole. For this hood
Shewth what fruite will follow. In good faith; I sayd,
In way of your petition I sue for your ayd.
A well, (quoth she), now I well understand,
The walking staff e hath caught warmth in your hand.
A cleane fingred huswife, and an idle, folke say,
And will be lyme-fingred, I feare by my faye.
It is as tender as a Parsons lemman ;
Nought can shee dooe, and what can shee have than ?
As sober as shee seemeth fewe dayes come about,
But shee will once wash her face in an ale clout ;
And then betweene her and the rest of the rout,
I proud, and thou proud, who shall beare th 'ashes out.
She may not beare a feather, but shee must breath,
She maketh so much of her paynted sheath.
She thinkes her farthing good silver,^ I tell you,
Rut for a farthing who ever did sell you,
Might bostyou to be better solde than bought.
And yet though she be worth nought, nor have nought,
19 She thinkes her farthing good silver.
Pandarina. Take example at me ; I tell you I thought my half- peny good silver within these few yeares past, and no man esteem- eth me unlesseit be for counsell. — GASCOIGNE'S Glasse of Govern- ment, 1575-
46 THE PROVERBS OF
Her gowne is gayer and better then myne.
At her gaye gowne, (quoth Ales), ye may repine,
How be it as we may, we love to goe gay all.
Well, well, (quoth myne aunt),/r^ will have a fall ;
For pryde goeth before and shame commeth after. ^
Sure, (sayd Ales), in manner of mocking laughter,
There is nothing in this world that agreeth wurse,
Then doth a Ladies hart and a beggers purse.
But pryde she sheweth none, her looke reason alloweth,
Site lookth as butter would not melt in her mouth^
Well, the still sow eats up all the draffe? Ales.
20 Pryde goeth before, &>c.
Pryde gothe before and shame cometh behynde : Alas that Englyshe men sholde be so blynde, So moche sorowe amonge us and so lytell fere We may wayle the tyme that ever it came here.
Treatise of a Gallant, circa 1510.
21 She lookth as butter would not melt in her mouth.
A cette parolle mist dame Mehault ses mains a ses costez et en grant couroux luy respondy que. . . . et que, Dieu merci, ain- cores fondoit le burre en sa bouche, combien qu'elle ne peust cro- quier noisettes, car elle n'avoit que un seul dent. — Les Evangiles des Quenouilles, circa 1475.
1 The still sow eats up all the draffe.
A "still sow "was a term of reproach for a sly lurking fellow ; "draff" is anything unfit for human food.
Mrs. Page. Wives may be merry, and yet honest too : We do not act, that often jest and laugh ; 'Tis old but true, stil swine eat all the draff.
Merry Wives of Windsor, iv. 2.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 47
All is not gold that glisters * by told tales. In youth she was toward and without evill ; But soone ripe, so one rotten /3 yong saint ', old devill.* How be it, lo God sendth the shrewd cowe short homes? While she was in this house she sate upon thornes, Each on day was three, till liberty was borow, For one months joy to bring her whole lyves sorow. It were pitty, (quoth Ales), but she should do well ; For beauty and stature she beareth the bell? j */ $/ (.'• « :
2 All is not gold that glisters.
Uns proverbes dit et raconte
Que tout n'est pas ors c'on voit luire.
Li Diz de freire Denise cordelier, circa 1300. All things that shineth is not by and by pure gold. — Ralph Roister Doister, 1 566.
Is found in CHAUCER'S Chanones Yemannes Tale, and in LYDGATE'S poem On the Mutability of Human Affairs.
3 Soone ripe, soone rotten.
Occurs in H ARMAN'S Caveat for Common Cursitors, 1567.
4 Yong saint, old devill.
Young seynt, old devyl. — MS. Harleian, circa 1490.
* God sendth the shrewd cowe short homes.
The Bishop of Sarum sayd, That he trusted ere Christmas Day to visit and cleanse a good part of the kingdom. But most com- monly God sendeth a shrewd cow short horns, or else many a thousand in England had smarted. — FOXE, Acts und Monuments.
6 She beareth the bell.
In horse-racing, a bell was formerly the prize competed for, hence the epitaph :—
Here lyes the man whose horse did gaine The bell, in race on Salisbury plain.
48 THE PROVERBS OF
Illweedegroivthfast, T Ales : whereby the corne is lorne ; For surely the weede overgroweth the corne. Yee prayse the wine before yee taste of the grape ; But she can no more harme than can a shee ape. It is a good body, her property preeves : Shee lacketh but even a new pare of sleeves. If I may, (as they say), tell troth without sinne, Of troth she is a wolfe in a lambes skinne. Her hart is ful hie, when her eie is ful low ; A guest as good lost as found, for all this show ; But many a good cow hath an evill caulfe. I speake this daughter in thy mother's behalfe, My sister, (God rest her soule), whom though I bost, Was cald the floure of honesty in this cost. Aunt, (quoth I), I take for father and mother, Myne uncle and you above all other. When we would, ye would not be our child, (quoth she) ; .Wherefore now whan yee would, now will not wee.
7 /// weede growth fast.
Mother. Good Lord !
How you have grown ! Is he not Alexander ? Alex. Yes, truly, he's shot up finely, God be thanked ! Mercury. An ill weed, mother, will do so. Alex. You say true, sir, an ill weed grows apace
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER, The Coxcomb. Ewyl weed ys sone y-growe.
MS. Harleian, circa 1490.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 49
Since thou wouldst needes cast away thy selfe thus, Thou shalt sure sinke in thyne owne sinne for us. Aunt, (quoth I), after a doting or drunken deede, Let submission obtayne some mercy or meede. Hee that kilth a man when he is drunke, (quoth she), Shal be hangd when he is sober. And he Whom in itching no scratching will forbeare, He must beare the smarting that shall follow there. And thou being borne very nigh of my stocke, Though nye be my kirtell, yet neere is my smocked I have one of myne owne whome I must looke to. Yea aunt, (quoth Ales), that thing must ye needes doe ; Nature compelth you to set your own first up ; For I have heard say, it is a deere collup 9 That is cut out of th owne flesh. But yet aunt, So small may her request be, that ye may grant To satisfy the same, which may do her good, And you no harme, in avauncing of your owne blood.
8 Though nye be my kirtell, &c.
Beside, there is a antiquitie a proverb no lesse practised then common, which is, Nearer unto mee is my shirt then my coate ; by following of which, every man commonly loveth his owne profit more then others. — The Contention betweene three Brethren; the Whore-monger, the Drunkard, and the Dice Player, 1608.
9 Collup.
God knows thou art a colup of my flesh.
i Henry VI. v. 5^
50 THE PROVERBS OF
And cosin, (quoth she to me), what ye would crave, Declare, that our aunt may know what ye would have ? Nay, (quoth I), be the winners all loosers, Folke say alway, beggers should be no choosers. 10 With thanks I shal take what ever myne aunt please ; Where nothing is, a little thing doth ease ; Hunger maketh hard beans sweet. Where saddles lack, Better ryde on a pad than on the horse bare backe. And by this proverbe appeareth this one thing, That alway somewhat is better then nothing. Hold fast whan ye have it, (quoth she) ; by my lyfe, The boy thy husband, and thou the girle, his wife, Shall not consume that I have labored fore. Thou art yong ynough, and I can worke no more. Kyt Calot^ my cosin, saw this thus farre on,
10 Beggers should be no choosers.
Loveless. What dost thou mean to do with thy children, Savil ?
SaviL My eldest boy is half a rogue already ; He was born bursten ; and your worship knows, That is a pretty step to men's companions. My youngest boy I purpose, sir, to bind For ten years to a gaoler, to draw under him, That he may shew us mercy in his function, *****
Beggers must be no choosers ;
In every place, I take it, but the stocks.
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER, Scornful Lady, v. 3.
11 Kyt Calot.
Kit Callot and Giles Hather are said to have been the first
JOHN HEY WOOD. 5I
And in myne auntes eare she whispreth anon, Roundly these wordes, to make this matter whole,— Aunt, let them that be a colde blow at the cole.1- They shall for me, Ales, (quoth she), by God's blist. She and I have shaken handes. Farewell unkist* And thus with a beck as good as a dieu-gardy She flang fro me, and I from her hitherward. Begging of her booteth not the woorth of a beane ; Little knoweth the fat sow what the leane doth meane*. Forsooth, (quoth I), ye have bestird ye well ; But where was your uncle while all this fray fell ? Asleepe by, (quoth she), routing lyke a hogge ; And it is evill waking of a sleeping dogge. The bitch and her whelpe might have bene a sleepe
too,
For ought they in waking to me would doo. Fare ye well, (quoth she). I will now home straight, And at my husbandes handes for better newes weight,
English persons who took up the occupation of gipsies. Hence the use of the word 'calot' as a term of abuse. It is variously 1 spelt and is used generally to denote a scold or infamous woman-. 1
Gogs bread ! and thinkes the callet thus to keep the neele me fro. — Gammer Gurtons Needle, 1560. 12 Let them that be a colde blow at the cole. Our talwod is all brent, Our fagottes are all spent,. We may blow at the cole. Why come ye not to Court, by JOHN SKELTON, circa 1520.
52 THE PROVERBS OF
CHAPTER XL
j E that came to me the next day before noone : What tydinges now, (quoth I), how have ye
doone ?
Upon our departing, (quoth he), yesterday, Toward myne uncle's, somewhat more than midway, I overtooke a man, a servant of his, And a frend of myne. Who gessed streight with this What myne errand was, offring in the same To doe his best for me ; and so in God's name Thither we went ; no body being within, But myne uncle, myne aunt, and one of our kin, A made knave, as it were a rayling gester, Not a more gaggling gander hence to Chester. At sight of me he asked, who have we there ? I have seene this gentleman, if I wist where ; How be it, lo, seldom seene, soone forgotten. He was, (as he will be), some what cupshotten. Sixe dayes in the weeke, beside the market day, Malt is above wheat with him, market men say. But for as much as I saw the same taunt, Contented well mine uncle and myne aunt,
JOHN HEY WOOD. 53
And that I came to fall in and not to fall out,
I forbare, or else his drunken red snout
I would have made as oft to chaunge from hew to
hew,
As doth cockes of Inde. For this is true, It is a small hop on the thombe.13 And Christ wot, It is wood at a woord ; li tie pot soone hot^ Now mery as a cricket, and by and by, Angry as a waspe, though in both no cause why. But he was at home there, he might speake his will, Every cocke is proud on his owne dunghill.'*-5 I shall be even with him herein when I can. But he having done, thus myne uncle began, — Ye marchant what attempth you to attempt us, To come on us before the messenger thus ?
13 Hop on the thombe.
A term of contempt applied to diminutive persons. Plain friend hop o' my thumb, know you who we are ? — Taming of the Shrew.
14 Little pot soone hot.
Now were I not a little pot, and soon hot, my very lips might freeze to my very teeth, .... for, considering the weather, a taller man than I will take cold. — Taming of the Shrew , iv. i.
15 Every cocke is proude on his owne dunghill.
J?et fleshs is her et home, ase eorSe, f>et is et eorfce : aut for J>ui hit is cwointe ^ cwiuer, ease me sei$, " J?et coc is kene on his owne mixenne." — Ve Ancren Riwle, circa 1250.
54 THE PROVERBS OF
Roming in and out, I here tell how ye tosse,
But sonne, the rolling stone never gather th mossed
Lyke a pickpurse pilgrim ye prie and ye proule
At rovers, to robbe Peter and pay Ponied
I wis I know ere any more be tolde,
That draff e is your errand, but drinke ye wold.lQ
Uncle, (quoth I), of the cause for which I come,
I pray you patiently heare the whole summe.
In fayth, (quoth hee), without any more summing,
16 The rolling stone never gather th mosse.
Herod. Speake thou three-legd tripos, is thy shippe of fooles a flote yet ?
Dondolo. I ha many things in my head to tell you.
Herod. I, thy head is alwaies working ; it roles, and it roles, Dondolo, but it gathers no mosse, Dondolo. — The Fawn, 1606, by JOHN MARSTON.
Pierre volage ne queult mousse. — De Thermite quisedesespe'ra pour le larron qui ala enparadis avant que lui, I3th century.
17 To robbe Peter and pay Poule.
The proverb is said to have derived its origin when, in the reign of Edward VI., the lands of St. Peter at Westminster were appropriated to raise money for the repair of St. Paul's in London. It must be recollected that the first edition of Hey wood's book appeared at the precise time that this arrangement was either being determined upon or being executed. The French form of the proverb, " ddcouvrir saint Pierre pour couvrir saint Paul" gives additional colouring to the statement.
18 Draffe is your errand, but drinke ye wold. Again in LYLY'S Euphues^ 1579.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 55
I know to beg of me is thy comming. Forsoth, (quoth his man), it is so indeede ; And I dare boldly boste, if yee knew his neede, Yee would of pitty yet set him in some stay. Sonne, better be envied than pitied, folke say : And for his cause of pitye, (had hee had grace), Hee might this day have bene cleere out of the case, But now hee hath well fisht and caught afrogge ; 19 Where nought is to wed with, wise men flee the clog?" Where I, (quoth I), did not as yee will or bad, That repent I oft, and as oft wish I had. Sonne, (quoth he), as I have heard of myne olders,
Well fisht and caught afrogge. So again writes LATIMER in his Remaines : — Well I have fished and caught a frog, Brought little to pass with much ado.
20 "A clog" from originally meaning an incumbrance, came in process of time to mean a wife. In its latter sense we find its use as well as its definition in a very early literary remnant : —
Science. Ye have woon me for ever dowghter. Although ye have woon a clogg wyth all.
Wyt. A clogg, sweete hart, what ?
Science. Such as doth fall To all men that joyne themselves in marriage.
Play of Wyt and Science, circa 1 540.
Again in Winter's Tale, iv. 4 : —
The prince himself is about a piece of iniquity, Stealing away from his father with his clog at his heels.
56 THE PROVERBS OF
Wishers and wolders bee no good housholders / This proverbe for a lesson, with such other. Not lyke, (as who sath), the sonne of my brother, But lyke myne owne sonne, I oft before told thee To cast her quite of, but it would not hold thee. Whan I wild thee any other whether to goe, Tush, there was no moe maydes but Malkin1 thoe ! Yee had been lost, to lacke your lust when yee list, By two myles trudging twise a weeke to bee kist. I would yee had kist, well I will no more sturre ; // is good to have a hatch before the durre?
1 Wishers and wolders bee no good housholders.
The earliest occurrence of this proverb is probably that in Vulgaria Stambrigi, printed circa 1510 : —
Wysshers and wolders ben smal housholders.
Francisco was set at libertie and hee and Isabel, joyntly toge- ther taking themselves to a little cottage, began to be as Ctcero- nicall as they were amorous .... for he being a scholer, and nurst up at the universities, resolved rather to live by his wit, then any way to be pinched with want, thinking this old sentence to be true, the wishers and woulders were never good house-holders. — GREEN'S Never too Late, 1590.
2 Moe maydes but Malkin.
" Malkin," a form of Mary, was used to denote a slattern, and in many parts of England is still the name for a scarecrow.
The kitchen malkin pins Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck.
Coriolanus, ii. I,
3 // is good to have a hatch before the durre.
A hatch is a wooden partition coming over the lower half of a
JOHN HEYWOOD. 57
But who ivill in tyme present pleasure refrayne,
Shall in time to come the more pleasure obtayne.
Follow pleasure ', and then will pleasure flee ;
Flee pleasure, and pleasure will follow thee.
And how is my saying come to passe now ?
How oft did I prophecie this betweene you
And your Ginifmee Nycebecetur,
Whan sweete sugre should turne to soure salt petur ?
Whereby yee should in seeing that yee never saw,
Thinke that you never thought, your selfe a daw.4
doorway and leaving open the upper half. In the time of Queen Elizabeth, disreputable houses were distinguished by hatches sur- mounted with iron spikes. To frequent places of that description was politely called " to go the manor of pickt hatch " ; and the nickname Pickt Hatch was bestowed on certain parts of Eliza- bethan London in the neighbourhood of Turnmill Street, Clerk- enwell. So we find in Merry Wives of Windsor, —
To your manor of pickt hatch go ! 4 A daw, i. e., a foolish fellow.
Humphrey Dixon said of Nicholas Brestney, utter Barrester and Counsellor of Gray's-Inn. Thou a Barrester ? Thou art no Barrester, thou art a Barretor ; thou wert put from the Bar, and hou darest not shew thyself there. Thou study Law ? Thou hast as much wit as a Daw. Upon not guilty pleaded, the Jury found for the plaintiff, and assessed damages to ,£23, upon which udgment was given : and in a Writ of Error in the Exchequer Chamber, the judgment was affirmed.— Coke's Reports.
Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.
I Henry VL ii. 4.
An earlier instance of this application of the word is found in The Four Elements, circa 1510 : —
58 THE PROVERBS OF
But that tyme yee thought me a daw, so that I Did no good in al my wordes then, save onely Approved this proverbe plaine and true matter ; A man may well bring a horse to the water, But he cannot make him drinke without he will. Colts, (quoth his man), may prove well with tatches ill, For of a ragged colt there comth a good horse? If he be good now, of his ill past no force. Well, he that hangeth himselfe on Sunday, (said he), Shall hang still uncut downe on Monday for me. / have hangd up my hatchet, God speed him well. A wonder thing what things these old things tell. Cat after kinde good mouse hunt. And also Men say, kinde will creepe where it may not go e^ Commonly all things shewth from whence it camme ; The litter is like to the sire and the damme ;
He that for commyn welth bysyly Studyeth and laboryth, and lyveth by Goddes law Except he waxe ryche, men count hym but a daw !
5 Of a ragged colt, &>c.
Touchstone. This cannot be fained, sure. Heaven pardon my severitie ! " The ragged colt may prove a good horse." — Eastward Hoe, 1605.
6 Kinde will creepe where it may not goe.
Thurio. How now, sir Proteus ? are you crept before us ? Proteus. Ay, gentle Thurio ; for you know that love Will creep in service when it cannot go.
Two Gentlemen of Verona, iv. 2.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 59
How can the fo ale amble if the horse and mare trot?
These sentences are assigned unto thy lot,
By conditions of thy father and mother,
My sister in law, and mine owne said brother.
f > ' / ^ (R
Thou followest their steps as right as a line. For when provander prickt them a little time, They did as thy wife and thou did, both dote Each on other; and being not worth a grote, Then went (witlesse) to wedding. Whereby at last They both went a begging. And even the like cast Hast thou ; thou wilt beg or steale ere thou die. Take heed, friend, I have seene as far come as nie. If ye seeke to finde things ere they be lost, Ye shall find one day ye come to your cost This doe I but repeate, for this I tolde thee ; And more I say, but I could not then hold thee ; Nor will not hold thee now ; nor such follie feele, To set at my heart that thou settest at thy heele. And as of my good ere I one grote give, I will see how my wife and my selfe may live. Thou goest a gleaning ere the cart have carried, But ere thou gleane ought, since thou wouldst be married . Shall I make thee laugh now, and my selfe weepe then ? Nay good childe, better children weepe then old men.1
7 Better children weepe then old men.
These words are memorable from a well-known episode in the
60 THE PROVERBS OF
Men should not prease much to spend much upon fooles ; Fish is castaway that is cast in drie pooles. To flee charge, and finde ease, ye would now here oste ; It is easie to crie ble* at other mens cost ; But a bow long bent, at length must ware weake. Long bent I toward you, but that bent I will breake. Fare well, and feede full, that love ye well to doo, But you lust not to doe that longeth theretoo. The cat would eate fish and would not wet her feete? They must hunger in frost that will not worke in heete. And he that will thrive must aske leave of his wife;10 But your wife will give none ; by your and her life,
Gowrie conspiracy. King James VI. about to depart fron Gowrie Castle was forcibly prevented by the Master of Glammis, and as the tears started to the eyes of the young king, " better bairns weep than bearded men" is recorded to have been the other's observation.
8 To cry ble.
One of the Hundred Mery Tales, circa 1525, is entitled " Of the husbande that cryed ble under the bed."
9 The cat would eate fish and would not wet herfeete. Shakespeare thus alludes to this proverb in Macbeth: —
Letting, I dare not, wait upon, I would, Like the poor cat r* the adage.
Cat lufat visch, ac he nele his feth wete.
MS. Trin. Coll. Camb., circa 1250.
10 He that will thrive, &>c.
Another proverb rather more vaguely lays down the conditions of prosperity : —
JOHN HEYWOOD. 61
// is hard to wive and thrive both in ay eare.11
Thus by wiving, thy thriving doth so appeare,
That thou art past thrift before thrift begin. I J|
But loe, will will have will, though will woe win.
Will is a good sonne and will is a shrewd boy :
And wilfull shrewd will hath wrought thee this toy,
A gentle white spurre, and at neede a sure speare ;
He standeth now as he had a flea in the eare.
How be it for any great curtesie he doth make,
It seemeth the gentleman hath eaten a stake.
He beareth a dagger in his sleeve, trust me,
To kill all that he meeteth prouder then he.
He will perke, I heare say he must have the bench ;
Jacke would be a gentleman if he could speake French?"
He had a sonne or twaine he would advaunce, And sayd they should take paines untyll it fell ; He that wyll thrive (quod he) must tary chaunce.
— Debate betweene Pride and Lowliness, by FRANCIS THYNN, 1570.
11 // is hard to wive and thrive both in a y eare.
Primus Pastor. It is sayde full ryfe, A man may not wyfe And also thryfe
And alle in a yere.
Toivnely Mysteries, circa 1420.
12 Jacke would be a gentleman if he could speake French. The proverb is obviously a relic of the Norman subver- sion of England. Speaking of the rule of the Anglo-Norman
62 THE PROVERBS OF
He thinketh his feete be where his head shall never
come.
He would faine flee, but he wanteth fethers, some. Sir, (quoth his man), he will no fault defend ; But hard is for any man all faults to mend ; He is liveles, that is faultles, old folkes thought. He hath, (quoth he), but one fault, he is starke nought. Well, (quoth his man), the best cart may overthrow. Carts well driven, (quoth he), goe long upright thow. But for my reward, let him no longer tarier ; / will send it him by Jong Long the carier. O helpe him sir, (said he), since yee easily may. Sltamefull craving, (quoth he), must have shame full nay. Yee may sir, (quoth he), mend three nayes with one yee. Two false knaves neede no broker™ men say, (sayd hee).
kings, the elder Disraeli writes : — " This was the time when it was held a shame among Englishmen to appear English. It became proverbial to describe a Saxon who ambitioned some distinguished rank, that " he would be a gentleman if he could but talk French." — Amenities of Literature.
13 Two false knaves neede no broker.
Some will say,
A crafty knave need no broker, But here's a craftie knave and a broker too.
A Knacke to Knowe a Knave, 1594.
As two false knaves need no Broker, for they can easily enough agree in wickednesse fine mediante, without any to breake the matter betweene them : so among true and faithfull men, there need no others. — A Sword against Swearers, 1611.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 63
Some say also, it is merry when knaves
But the moe knaves, the woorse company to greet e ;
The one knave now croucheth, while thother cravith.
But to shew what shall be his relevavith,
Either after my death, if my will bee kept,
Or during my lyfe : had I this hall hept
With gold, he may his part on good Fryday eate,
And fast never the woorse for ought hee shall get
These former lessons cond, take foorth this, sonne.
Tell thy cards, and then tell me wliat thou hast won?
Now here is the dore and there is the way :
And so, (quoth hee), farewell gentle Geffray.
Thus parted I from him, being much dismayde,
A "broker77 formerly meant any medium or go-between, hence also something discreditable.
Madam, I am no broker ! BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER, Valentin, ii. 2.
14 // is merry when knaves meete.
No more of Cocke now I wryte,
But mery it is when knaves done mete.
Cocke Lorelles Bote, circa 1510.
Gentleman. But where's the new Booke thou telst me of?
Prentice. Mary, looke you, sir : this is a prettie meeting here in London betweene a Wife, a Widow, and a Mayde.
Gentleman. Merrie meeting ? why that Title is stale. There's a Boke cald Tis merry when knaves meete, and there's a Ballad Tis merry when Malt-men meete ; and besides there's an old Proverbe The more the merrier. — Tis Merrie when Gossips meete, by SAMUEL ROWLANDS, 1602.
64 THE PROVERBS OF
Which his man saw, and to comfort mee, sayd :
What man, plucke up your harte, bee of good cheere !
After cloudes blacke, wee shall have wether deere.
What should your face thus againe the wool be shorne
For one fall ? What man all this wind shakes no corne !
Let this wind overblow ; a tyme I will spye,
To take winde and tyde with mee and speed thereby.
I thanke you, (quoth I), but^raztf boste and small roste
Maketh unsavery mouthes, where ever men oste.
And this bost very unsavorly serveth,
For while the grasse groweth the horse starveth.15
Better one byrde in hand than ten in the wood^
Rome was not built in one day (quoth he),17 and yet stood
15 While the grasse groiveth, &>c.
Whylst grass doth growe, oft sterves the seely steede.
WHETSTONE'S Promos and Cassandra, 1578.
Hamlet. Ay, sir, but, While the grass grows, — The proverb is something musty.
Hamlet, iii. 2.
16 Better one byrde in hand, &c.
An old proverbe makyth with thys whyche I tak good. Better one byrd in hand then ten in the wood.
HEYWOOD'S Dialogiie on Wit and Folly, circa 1530.
17 Rome was not built in one day.
Haec tamen vulgaris sententia me aliquantulum recreavit, quse etsi non auferre, tamen minuerepossitdoloremmeum,quas quidem sententia haec est, Romam uno die non fuisse conditam. — Extem- pore speech by Queen Elizabeth before the University of Cam- bridge, 9th August, 1564.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 65
Till it was finisht, as some say, full fayre.
Your heart is in your hose™ all in dispayre.
But as every man sayeth a dog hath a day,
Should a man dispayre than any day ? nay.
Yee have many strings to your bowe^ for yee know,
Though I, having the bent of your uncles bow,
Can no way bring your bolt in the butte to stand ;
Yet have yee other markes to rove at hand.
The kayes hang not all by one man's girdle, man.
Though nought will be woon here, I say, yet yee can
Taste other kinsmen, of whom yee may get
Here some and there some, many small make a gre at ^
Your heart is in your hose.
Primus Pastor. Breck outt youre voce, let se as ye yelp. Tercius Pastor. I may not for the pose hot I have help. Secundus Pastor. A, thy hert is in thy hose.
Towmley Mysteries, circa 1430.
19 Yee have many strings to your bo we.
I am wel pleased to take any coulor to defend your honor, and hope that you wyl remember, that who seakech two stringes to one bowe, the may shute strong, but never strait ; and if you suppose that princes causes be vailed so covertly that no intelli- gence can bewraye them, deceave not your-selfe ; we old foxes can find shiftes to save ourselves by others malice and come by knowledge of greattest secreat, spetiallye if it touche our freholde. — Letter of Queen Elizabeth to James VI. , June, 1585.
20 Many small make a great.
The proverbe saith that many a small makith a grete. — CHAUCER, Persons Tale.
66 THE PROVERBS OF
For come light winnings with blessings or curses,
Evermore light gaynes make heavie purses.
Children learne to creepe ere they can learne to goe ;
By little and little yee must learne even so.
Throw no gift againe at the givers head ;
For better is halfe a lofe than no bread.
I may begge my bread, (quoth I), for my kin all
That dwelth nye. Well yet, (quoth he), and the worst
fall,
Yee may to your kinsman, hence nine or ten myle, Rich without charge, whom yee saw not of long while. That bench whistler, (quoth I), is a pinchpeny, As free of gift as a poor e man of his eye. He is hie in th instep, and so sir eight laste, That pride and covetyse withdraweth all repaste. Yee know what he hath been, (quoth he), but ywis, Absence sayth plainely, ye know not what he is. Men know, (quoth I), I have heard now and then, How the market goeth by the market men. Further it is said, who that saying wayeth, // must needs be true that every man sayeth. Men say also, children and fooles cannot lye /
1 Children and fooles cannot lye.
Master Constable says : " You know neighbours 'tis an old saw, Children and fooles speake true." — LYLY'S Endimion, 1591.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 67
And both man and childe sayth, he is a hensby.
And myselfe knowth him, I dare boldly brag,
Even as well as the begger knowth his bag?1
And I knew him not worth a gray grote ;
He was at an ebbe, though he be now a flote.
Poore as the poorest. And now nought he setteth
By poore folke. For the parish priest forgetteth
That ever he hath been holy water Clarke.
By ought I can now heare, or ever could marke,
Of no man hath he pitie or compassion.
Well, (quoth he), every man after his fashion.
He may yet pitie you, for ought doth appeare :
// hapth in one houre that hapth not in seven y ear e.
Forspeake not your fortune, nor hide not your neede ;
Nought venter nought have; spare to speak, spare to speed;
Unknowne, unkist ; it is lost that is unsought.
As goodseeke nought, (quoth I), as seeke andfinde nought.
It is, (quoth I), ill fishing before the net.
But though we get little, deare bought and far fet
Are dainties for Ladies? Goe we both two ;
2 As well as the begger knowth his bag.
As well as the begger knows his dish, is another form of this proverb found in The Burning of Paules Church in London, by
BISHOP PlLKINGTON, 1561.
8 Deare bought and far fet are dainties for Ladies. Niece. Ay, marry, sir, this was a rich conceit indeed.
68 THE PROVERBS OF
I have for my master thereby to doo. I may breake a dish there. And sure I shall Set all at sixe and seven? to win some windfall. And I will hang the bell about the cats necke * For I will first breake and jeoperd the first checke.
Pompey. And far fetched ; therefore good for you, lady. BEAUMONT and FLETCHER, Wit at several Weapons.
Some far fet trick, good for ladies, some stale toy or other.
MARSTON'S Malcontent.
4 Set all at sixe and seven.
In the Towneley Mysteries the Deity is described as He that " set alle on seven/' that is, set or appointed everything in seven days. To set at six and seven, or more modernly, "to be at sixes and sevens," Mr. HalliweJl supposes to be the reverse of this, to disarrange, to put into disorder.
Herod, in his anger at the Wise Men, exclaims : —
Bot be thay past me by, by Mahowne in heven, I shalle, and that in hy, set alle on sex and seven.
Towneley Mysteries, circa 1420.
All is uneven, And everything is left at six and seven.
Richard 77, ii. 2.
5 Hang the bell about the cat's necke. In SKELTON'S Colyn Clout, circa 1518.
But, quoth one Mouse unto the rest, Which of us all dare be so stout To hang the bell cats neck about ?. If here be any, let him speake. Then all replicle. We are too weake : The stoutest Mouse and tallest Rat Doe tremble at a grim-fac'd Cat.
Diogines Lanthorne, 1607.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 69
And for to win this pray, though the cost be mine,
Let us present him with a bottle of wine.
It is to give him, (quoth I), as much almes or neede,
As cast water in Terns, or as good a deede
As it is to helpe a dogge over a stile.
Then goe we, (quoth he), we leese time all this while.
To follow his fancie we went togither,
And toward night yester night when we came thither,
She was within, but he was yet abrode.
And streight as she saw me she sweld like a tode}
Pattring the divels Pater noster to her selfe.
God never made a more crabbed elfe !
She bad him welcome, but the worse for me ;
This knave comth a begging by me, thought she.
I smeld her out, and had her streight in the winde.
She may abide no beggers of any kinde.
They be both greedy guts all given to get,
They care not how : all is fish that comth to net?
They know no end of their good : nor beginning
Of any goodnes, such is wretched winning.
Hunger droppeth even out of both their noses.
6 All is fish that comth to net.
But now (aye me) the glasing christal glasse
Doth make us thinke that realmes and tovvnes are rych,
Where favor sways the sentence of the law,
Where al is fishe that cometh to net.
GASCOIGNE'S Steele Glas, 1575.
70 THE PROVERBS OF
She goeth broken shoone and torne hoses.
But who is worse shod than the shoomakers wife?
With shops full of new shooes all her life ?
Or who will doe lesse, than they that may doe most ?
And namely of her I can no way make boste.
She is one of them to who God bad hoe?
She will all have, and will right nought forgoe.
She will not fart with the paring of her nayles.
She toyleth continually for avayles.
Which life she hath so long kept in ure,
That for no life she would make change, be sure.
But this lesson learnd I ere I was yeares seaven,
They that be in hell weene there is none other heaven.
She is nothing fayre, but she is ill favourd ;
And no more unclenely than unsweet savourd.
1 Who is worse shod than the shoomakers wife ?
This may be compared with another proverb touching the cobbler's craft, now probably obsolete : —
Heere are the tenne precepts to be observed in the art of scolding : therefore let not the cobler wade above his slipper. The cobler above his slipper, said Chubb, hee is a knave that made that proverb. — Fearefull and lamentable Effects of two dangerous Comets, by SIMON SNEL-KNAVE, 1591.
8 Hoe or whoe means a stop or limit, from the well-known exclamation used in arresting the attention of a person. Out of this sprang the phrase out of all hoe, meaning out of all bounds, beyond restraint.
For he once loved the fair maid of Fresingfield out of all hoe. —GREENE'S Fryer Bacon.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 71
But hackney men^ say at mangie hacknies hyre,
A scald horse is good enough for a scabd squyre. <
He is a knuckilbonyard very meete
To match a minion neither fayre nor sweete.
He winkth with the tone eye and looketh with the tother.
I will not trust him though he were my brother.
He hath a poyson wit and all his delite
Is to give taunts and checks of most spitefull spite.
In that house commonly, such is the cast,
A man shall as soone breake his necke as his fast ;
And yet now such a gid did her head take,
That more for my mates then for manners sake,
We had bread and drinke, and a cheese very great ;
But the greatest crabs be not all the best meate.
For her crabbed cheese, with all the greatnes,
Might well abide the fineness or sweetnes.
Anon he came in. And when he us saw,
9 Hackney men at this date are understood to mean proprietors of horses lent for hire ; " a hackney " being the name for a saddle- horse. It was not until the reign of Charles I. that the title was transferred to the drivers of vehicles, the year 1625 being the date of the first appearance of hackney coaches in the streets of London. They were then only twenty in number, but the inno- vation occasioned an outcry which we find reflected in the pages of a then popular author : —
The world runs on wheeles. The hackney-men, who were wont to have furnished travellers in all places with fitting and service- able horses for any journey, (by the multitude of coaches) are un-
72 THE PROVERBS OF
To my companion kindly he did draw,
And a well favourd welcome to him he yeelds,
Bidding me welcome strangely over the fields,
With these words ; Ah yong man, I know your matter,
By my faith you come to looke in my watter :
And for my comfort to your consolation,
Ye would, by my purse, give me a purgation ;
But I am laxative enough there otherwise.
This, (quoth this yong man), contrary doth rise ;
For he is purse sick, and lackth a Phisition,
And hopeth upon you in some condition,
Not by purgation, but by restorative,
To strength his weaknes, to keepe him alive.
I cannot, (quoth he), for though it be my lot
To have speculation, yet I practise not.
I see much, but I say little, and doe lesse,
In this kind of Phisicke. And what would ye gesse,
Shall I consume my selfe to restore him now ?
Nay, backare, (quoth Mortimer to his Sow) ;10
done by the dozens, and the whole commonwealth most abomin- ably jaded, that in many places a man had as good to ride on a wooden post, as to poast it upon one of those hunger-starv'd hirelings. — TAYLOR'S Works, 1630.
10 Backare, (quoth Mortimer to his Sow). The allusion is lost, but the phrase would seem to have the meaning of " to recede," " to go back."
Gremio. Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray, Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too : Baccare ! you are marvellous forward.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 73
He can, before this time, no time assine,
In which he hath laid downe one peny by mine,
That ever might either make me bite or sup ;
And bir Lady, free[nd] ! nought lay downe, nought takeup.
Ka mee, ka thee ;13 one good turne asketh another.
Nought woon by the tone, nought woon by the tother.
To put me to cost thou camst halfe a score miles,
Out of thine owne nest to seeke me in these out yles ;
Where thou wilt not step over a straw, I thinke,
To win me the worth of one draught of drinke,
No more than I have wonne of all thy whole stocke.
I have been common Jacke 12 to all that whole flocke ;
When ought was to doe I was common hackney.
Folke call on the horse that will carry alwey ;
But evermore the common horse is worse shod.
Desert and reward be oft times things far od.
At end / might put my winning in mine eye,
And see never the worse,13 for ought I wan them by.
11 Ka mee, ka thee.
Skelton sayde then : Why, fellowe, haste thou hurt my mare ? Yea, sayde the hostler, ka me, ka thee : yf she dose hurte me, I wyll displease her. — Merie Tales of SKELTON, 1567.
12 Common Jacke.
Jack is a familiar appellation for anything rather disparag- ingly spoken of. In the Taming of the Shrew, Katharine calls her music-master " a twangling jacke," and in Richard III. we have " silken, sly insinuating jacks."
13 / might put my winning in mine eye, &*c.
This expression is found Latinized in a letter of Erasmus,
74 THE PROVERBS OF
And now without them, I live here at staves end,
Where I need not borow, nor will I lend.
It is good to beware by other mens harmes ;
But thy taking of thine aulter in thine armes
Teacheth other to beware of their harmes by thine.
Thou hast stricken the ball under the line.
I pray you, (quoth I), pitie me a poore man,
With somewhat till I may worke as I can.
Toward your working, (quoth he), ye make such
tastings,
As approve you to be none of the hastings. Ye run to worke in haste as nine men heldyee ; But whensoever ye to worke must yelde yee, If your meet-mate and you meete together, Then shall we see two men beare a fether ; Recompensing former loytring life loose, As did the pure penitent who stole a goose And stack downe a fether. And where old folke tell,
circa 1500. He is speaking of want of generosity in a certain Cardinal, of whom he says : —
Episcopo Leodiensi nunc Cardinal!, cui inscripsimus Epistolas ad Corinthios, cui libellum inauratum misimus, cui donavimus duo volumina Novi Testament! in membranis non ineleganter adornata neque pretii mediocris ut libenter debemus pro splen- didis promissis, quae non semel obtutit : ita non est, quod ill! pro donato teruncio gratias agamus. Tantum donavit, quantum si incidat in oculum quamvis tenerum nihil torment! sit allaturum : id ipse non inficiabitur.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 75
That evill gotten goods never proveth well;
Ye will truly get, and true gettings well keepe,
Till time ye be as rich as a new shorne sheepe.1*
How be it when thrift and you fell first at a fray,
You played the man, for ye made thrift run away.
So helpe me God, in my poore opinion,
A man might make a play of this minion,
And faine no ground, but take tales of his owne frends.15
/ sucke not this out of my owne fingers ends.
And sinse ye were wed, although I nought gave you,
Yet pray I for you, God and saint Luke save you.
14 As rich as a new shorne sheepe.
The nexte that came was a coryar
And a cobelar, his brother,
As ryche as a new shorne shepe.
Co eke Lore lies Bote, circa 1510.
13 A man might make a play, &*€.
The meaning of this passage is that a dramatist who repre- sented such a character on the stage, would fill the house without a free list, making even his own friends pay.
The "ground" was that part of a theatre corresponding to the " pit " of the present day, and the pitites were consequently called " groundlings."
The stage curtains be artificially drawn, and so covertly shrouded that the squint-eyed groundling may not peep in. — Lady Alimony, i. i..
The price of admission was one penny.
Tut, give me the penny, give me the penny — Let me have a good ground.
BEN JONSON, Case is Altered.
76 THE PROVERBS OF
And here is all. For what should I further wade ?
I was neither of Court nor of Counsaile made.
And it is, as I have learned in listening,
A poore dog, tliat is not worth the whistling.
A day ere I was wed, I bad you, (quoth I).
Scarborough warning I had (quoth he), whereby
I kept me thence, to serve thee according ;
And now if this nights lodging and bording
May ease thee, and rid me from any more charge ;
Then welcome, or els get thee streight at large.
For of further reward, marke how I bost me,
In case as ye shall yeeld me as ye cost me,
So shall ye cost me as ye yeeld me likewise ;
Which is, a thing of nought rightly to surmise.
Herewithall his wife to make up my mouth,
Not onely her husbands taunting tale avouth,
But thereto deviseth to cast in my teeth
Checks and choking oysters. And when she seeth
Her time to take up, to shew my fare at best ;
Ye see your fare, (sayd she), set your hart at rest.
Fare ye well, (quoth I), how ever I fare now,
And well mote ye fare both, when I dine with you.
Come, goe we hence friend, (quoth I to my mate),
And now will I make a crosse on this gate.
And I, (quoth he), crosse thee quite out of my booke,
Since thou art crosse sailde, avale unhappie hooke.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 77
By hooke or crooke^ nought could I win there : men say,
He that comtk every day shall have a cocknay /
He that cometh now and then, shall have a fat hen.
But I gat not so much in comming seeld when,
As a good hens fether, or a poore egshell.
As good play for nought as worke for nought, folke tell.
Well well, (quoth he), we be but where we were,
Come what come would, I thought ere we came there,
That if the worst fell, we could have but a nay.
There is no harme done, man, in all this fray ;
Neither pot broken, nor water spilt.
Farewell he, (quoth I), I will as soone be hilt,
As waite againey for the moonshine in the watter.
16 By hooke or crooke.
The phrase derives its origin from the custom of certain manors where tenants are authorized to take fire-bote by hook or by crook j that is, so much of the underwood as may be cut with a crook, and so much of the loose timber as may be col- lected from the boughs by means of a hook.
The story of the two arbitrators Judge Hook and Judge Crook, who sat to decide rival claims to property after the Great Fire of London, is of course entirely fallacious.
One of the earliest instances that can be cited is from one of JOHN WYCLIFFE'S Controversial Tracts, written circa 1370 : —
J?ei sillen sacramentis, as ordris, and o£ere spiritualte, as halwyng of auteris, of churchis, and churche ?erdis ; and com- pellen men to bie alle J?is wij? hok or crok.
Again, in SKELTON'S Colin Clout, 1520 : — Nor will suffer this boke, By hooke or by crooke, Prynted for to be.
78 THE PROVERBS OF
But is not this a pretie piked matter ?
To disdaine me, who much of the world hoordeth not,
As he doth, it -may rime but it accordeth not?1
Shzfometh like a bore, the beast should seeme bolde ;
For she is as fierce as a Lion of Cotsolde.^
She frieth in her owne grease^ but as for my part,
If she be angrie, beshrew her angrie hart !
Friend, (quoth he), he may shew wisedome at will,
That with angrie hart can hold his tongue still.
Let patience grow in your garden alway.
Some loose or od end will come, man, some one day,
From some friend, either in life or at death.
Death, (quoth I), take we that time to take a breath,
Then graffe we a greene graffe on a rotten roote ;
17 // may rime, but it accordeth not.
It may wele ryme but it accordith nought.
MS. poem by L YD GATE, " On Inconstancy'1
18 As fierce as a Lion of Cotsolde* DAVIES, in one of his Epigrams, has : —
Carlus is as furious as a lyon of Cotsold. Again, in the play of Sir John Oldcastle : —
You stale old ruffian, you lion of Cotsolde. The Cotswold hills in Gloucestershire were famous on account of the number of sheep fed there ; hence a Cotswold lion meant a Cotswold sheep.
19 She frieth in her owne grease.
But certeynly I made folk such chere That in his owne grees I made him frie.
CHAUCER, Prologue of Wyf of Bathe. Prince Bismarck's recent application of the saying is well known.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 79
Who waitefor dead men shoen shall goe long barefooted Let passe, (quoth he), and let us be trudging, Where some nappie ale is and soft sweet lodging.
1X^4. t|
Be it, (quoth I), but I would very faine eate, At breakfast and dinner I eate little meate,
* %&$:
And two hungrie meales make the third a glutton.
We went where we had boyld beefe and bakte mutton,
Whereof I fed me as full as a tunne ;
And a bed were we ere the clock had nine runne.
Earely we rose, in haste to get away,
And to the hostler this morning by day,
This fellow calde. What how fellow, thou knave,
I pray thee let me and my fellow have
A haire of the dog that bit us1 last night.
And bitten were we both to the braine aright.
20 Who waitefor dead men shoen shall go e long barefooie.
Nicholas. You may speake when ye are spoken to, and keepe your winde to coole your pottage. Well, well, you are my maister's sbnne, and you looke for his lande ; but they that hope for dead mens shoes may hap go barefoote. — Two angry Women of Abington, 1599.
1 A haire of the dog that bit us.
In old receipt books we find it invariably advised that an in- ebriate should drink sparingly in the morning some of the same liquor which he had drunk to excess over-night.
Pepys records, under April 3, 1661 : —
Up among my workmen, my head akeing all day from last night's debauch. At noon dined with Sir W. Batten and Pen, who would have me drink two good draughts of sack to-day, to cure me of my last night's disease, which I thought strange, but I think find it true.
8o THE PROVERBS OF
We saw each other drunke in the good ale glas,
And so did each one each other that there was,
Save one, but old men say that are skild
A hard foughten field where no man scapeth unkild.
The reckning reckned, he needes would pay the shot?
And needes he must for me, for I had it not.
This done we shooke hands, and parted in fine ;
He into his way, and I into mine.
But this journey was quite out of my way,
Many kinsfolke and few friends, some folke say ;
But I finde many kinsfolke, and friend not one.
Folke say, it hath been sayd many yeares since gone ;
Prove thy friend ere tJwu have need ; but in deede,
A friend is never knowne till a man Itave neede.
Before I had neede, my most present foes
Seemed my most friends, but thus the world goes.
Every man basteth the fat hog> we see ;
But the leane shall burne ere he basted bee.
As saith this sentence, oft and long sayd before,
He that hath plentie of goods shall have more ;
He that hath but a little he shall have lesse.
He that hath right nought, right nought shall possesse.
Thus having right nought and would somewhat obtaine,
With right nought, (quoth he), I am returned againe.
2 Pay the shot.
Well at your will ye shall be furnisht. But now a jugling tricke to pay the shot.— Kind Harts Dreame, 1592.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 81
CHAPTER XII.
URELY, (quoth I), ye have in this time thus
worne,
Made a long harvest for a little corne. Howbeit, comfort your selfe with this old text, That telth us ; when bale is hekst, boote is next? Though every man may not sit in the chaire, Yet alway the grace of God is worth a faire. Take no thought in case, God is where he was, And put case4 in povertie all your life pas.
3 When bale is hekst, boote is next.
Equivalent to saying that when things are at worst they begin to mend.
When bale is greatest, then is bote a nie bore.
CHAUCER, Testament of Love.
"When the bale is hest, Thenne is the bote nest," Quoth Hendyng.
Proverbs of Hendyng) MS. circa 1320.
4 Put case.
An idiomatic expression used frequently in an argument, as, —
Put case there be three brethren, John-a-Nokes, John-a-Nash and John-a- Stile. — Returnefrom Parnassus, 1606.
G
82 THE PROVERBS OF
Yet povertie and poore degree, taken well,
Feedth on this ; he that never climbde never fell.
And some case at some time shewth preefe somewhere
That riches bring oft harme and ever fear e,
Where povertie passeth without grudge of greefe.
What man ! the begger may sing before the theefe.
And who can sing so merrie a note.
As may he that cannot change a grote f
Ye, (quoth he), begger s may sing before theeves,
And weepe before true men, lamenting their greeves.
Some say, and I feele, hunger pearceth stone wall?
Meate, nor yet money to buy meate withall,
Have I not so much as may hunger defend
Fro my wife and me. Well, (quoth I ), God will sen<
Time to provide for time, right well ye shall see.
God send that provision in time, (sayd hee).
And thus seeming welnie wearie of his life,
The poore wretch went to his like poore wretched wif(
5 Hunger pearceth stone wall.
Menenius. But, I beseech you, What says the other troop ?
Martius. They are dissolved : Hang 'em ! They said, they were an-hungry ; sigh'd forth proverbs ; — That, hunger broke stone walls ; that, dogs must eat ; That, meat was made for mouths, that, the Gods sent not Corn for the rich man only : — With these shreds They vented their complainings. Coriolanus, i. ]
JOHN HEY WOOD. 83
From wantonnes to wretchednes, brought on their knees ; Their hearts full heavie, their heads f till of bees.6 And after this a month, or somewhat lesse, Their Landlord came to their house to make a stresse | For rent, to have kept Bayard in the stable. But that to win, any power was unable. For though it be ill playing with short daggers, Which meaneth, that every wise man staggers, In earnest or boord to be busie or bold With his biggers or betters, yet this is tolde ; Where as nothing is, the King must lose his right. And thus, King or Keyser must have set them quight. But warning to depart thence they needed none ; « A {&*"*' For ere the next day the birds were flowne each one, .*J\
To seeke service ; of which where the man was sped, The wife could not speede, but maugre her hed, She must seeke elsewhere. For either there or nie, Service for any suite she none could espie. All folke thought them not onely too lither, To linger both in one house togither.
6 Their heads full of bees.
Means to project schemes ; thus differing from the phrase " to have a bee in one's bonnet," which is generally intended to denote a mild form of craziness.
But, Wyll, my maister hath bees in his head.
Damon and Pithias, 1571.
84 THE PROVERBS OF
But also dwelling nie under their wings,
Under their noses they might convey things,
Such as were neither too heavie nor too hot,
More in a month then they their master got
In a whole yeare. Whereto folke further weying,
Receive each of other in their conveying,
Might be worst of all. For this proverb preeves ;
Where there be no receivers, there be no tkeeves.1
Such hap here hapt, that common dread of such guiles
Drove them and keepth them asunder many miles.
Thus though love decree departure death to bee,
^^ipovertie parteth fellowship y we see ;
And doth those two true lovers so dissever,
That meete shall they seeld, when, or haply never.
And thus by love without regard of living,
These twaine have wrought each others ill chiving.
And love hath so lost them the love of their friends,
That I thinke them lost ; and thus this tale ends.
7 Where there be no receivers, there be no theeves.
And it is a comon sayinge, ware there no ryceyver there shoulde be no thefe. So ware there no stewes, there shulde not so many honeste mennes doughters rune awaye from there fathers and playe the whores as dothe. — A Christen exhortation unto customable swearers, 1^75.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 85
CHAPTER XIII.
sir, (sayd my friend), when men must needes
marry,
I see now how wisedomeand haste may varry ; Namely where they wed for love altogither. I would for no good, but I had cqme hither. Sweet beautie with soure beggerie ? nay, I am gon To the wealthie withered widow, by Saint John. What yet in all haste, (quoth I). Yea, (quoth he), For she hath substance enough. And ye see, That lacke is the losse of these two yong fooles. Know ye not, (quoth I), that after wise mensschooles A man should heare all parts ere he judge any ? Why are ye that, (quoth he) ? For this, (quoth I) ; I tolde you, when I this began that I would Tell you of two couples. And I having told But of the tone, ye be streight starting away, As I of the tother had right nought to say, Or as your selfe of them right nought would heare. Nay not allso, (quoth he), but since I thinke cleare, There can no way appeare so painfull a life, Betweene your yong neighbour and his old rich wife, As this tale in this yong poore couple doth show, And that the most good or least ill ye know.
86 PROVERBS OF JOHN HEYWOOD.
To take at end, I was at beginning bent,
With thankes for this and your more paine to prevent,
Without any more matter now revolved,
I take this matter here cleerely resolved.
And that ye herein award me to forsake,
Beggerly brautie, and riveld riches take.
That's just, if the halfe shall judge the whole, (quoth I) ;
But yet heare the whole, the whole wholly to try.
To it, (quoth he), then I pray you by and by.
We will dine first, (quoth he), it is noone by.
We may as well, (quoth he), dine when this is done ;
The longer for enoone, the shorter afternoone.
All comth to one, and thereby men have gest ;
Alway the longer east, the shorter west.
We have had, (quoth I), before ye came, and sin,
Weather, meete to sette paddocks abroode in,
Raine more then enough ; and when all shrews have
dinde,
Change from foule weather to fair e is oft enclinde. And all the shrews in this part, saving one wife That must dine with us, have dinde, paine of my life. Now if good change of ill weather be depending Upon her diet, what were mine offending, To keepe the woman any longer fasting ? If ye, (quoth he), set all this far casting For common wealth, as it appeareth a cleere case, Reason would your will should and shall take place.
PART II.
CHAPTER I.
yNNER cannot be long where dainties
want, Where coyne is not comon, comons must
be scant,
In poste pase we past from potage to cheese, And yet this man cride, alas what time we leese. He would not let us pause after our repaste, But apart he pluckt me streight, and in all haste, As I of this poore yong man and poore yong maide, Or more poore yong wife, the foresaid words had saide, So praieth he me now the processe may be told, Betweene th'other yong man, and the rich widowe old. If yee lacke that, (quoth I), away ye must winde, With your whole errand, and halfe th' answer behinde. Which thing to doe, sens hast thereto shewth you loth
88 THE PROVERBS OF
And to hast your going, the day away goth, And that time lost, againe we cannot win, Without more losse of time, this tale I begin.
In this late olde widowe, and then olde new wife,
Age and appetite fell at a strong strife.
Her lust was as yong as her lims were olde.
The day of her wedding, liken one to be solde,
She set out her selfe in fine apparell.
She was made like a beere pot, or a barrell.
A crooked hookde nose, beetle browde, blere eyed.
Many men wisht, for beautifyng that bryde,
Her waste to be gyrde in, and for a boone grace,
Some well favourd visor, on her ill favourd face.
But with visorlike visage, such as it was,
Shee smirkt, and she smilde ; but so lisped this las,
That folke might have thought it done, onely alone
Of wantonnesse, had not her teeth been gone.
Upright as a candell standth in a socket,
Stoode she that day, so simper decocket?
Of auncient fathers she tooke nb cure nor care,
8 So simper decocket.
And gray russet rocket With simper the cocket.
SKELTON, The Tunnyng of Elynoure
Rummy ng) 1520, The word means a coquettish girl.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 89
She was to them, as koy as Croker's mare.
She tooke th' entertainment of the yong men
All in daliaunce, as nice as a nunnes hen?
I suppose that day her eares might well glow,
For all the towne talkt of her hie and low.
One sayd ; a well favourd olde woman she is ;
The divell she is, saide another ; and to this,
In came the third, with his five egges, and sayde ;
Fiftie yere a goe I knew her a trym mayde.
What ever she were then, (said one), she is now
To become a bryde, as meete as a sow
9 As nice as a nunnes hen.
This proverb appears to have been in use a century previous to Heywood.
Women, women, love of women, Make bare purs with some men. Some be nyse as a nonne hene,
Yet al thei be not soo ; Some be lewde, some all be schrewde,
Go schrewes wher thei goo.
Satirical Verses on Women, 14.62.
I knewe a priest that was as nice as a Nonnes Henne. — WILSON'S Arte of Rhetorique, 1562.
Another virtue is ascribed to this kind of poultry by the old writers, —
I have the taught dyvysyon between Frende of effect, and frende of countenaunce ; The nedeth not the gall of none hen That cureth eyen.
Proverbes of Lydgate, circa 1520.
go THE PROVERBS OF
To beare a saddle. She is in this manage
As comely as is a cowe in a cage.
Gup, with a galde backe, gill, come up to supper.
What, mine olde mare would have a new crupper !
And now mine olde hat must have a new band !
Well (quoth one) glad is he that hath her in hand ;
A goodly mariage she is, I heare say.
She is so, (quoth one), were the woman away.
Well, (quoth another), fortune this moveth ;
And in this case, every man as he loveth
Quoth the good man, when that he kist his cowe.
That kisse, (quoth one), doth well here, by .God a vowe ;
But how can she give a kisse sowre or sweete ?
Her chin and her nose within halfe an inche meete.
God is no botcher, sir, sayd another ;
He shapeth all parts, as eche part may fit other.
Well, (quoth one), wisely ; let us leave this scanning.
God speed e, be as be may is no banning.
That shalbe, shalbe ; and with god's grace they shall
Doe well, and that they so may, wish wee all.
This wonder, (as wonders last), lasted nine daies.™ Which done, and all gests of this feast gone their waies,
10 This wonder . . . lasted nine dates.
The reason for assigning nine days as the period of duration is
JOHN HEYWOOD^ 91
Ordinary houshold this man streight began Very sumptuously, which he might well doe than. What he would have, he might have ; his wife was set In such dotage of him, that faire words did fet Gromel-seede plenty ; and pleasure to prefer, Shee made much of him, and he mockt much of her. I was, (as I said), much there, and most of all, The first month, in which time such kindnesse did fall Betweene these two counterfaite turtle burds. To see his sweete looke, and heare her sweete wurds, And to thinke wherefore they both put both in ure, It would have made a horse breake his halter sure. All the first fortnight their tickyng might have tought Any yong couple their love trickes to have wrought. Some laught, and sayd ; all thing is gay that is greene. Some thereto said ; new brome swepth cleene. But since all thing is the woorse for the wearing, Decay of cleane sweeping folke had in fearing. And in deede, ere two monthes away were crept, And her biggest bagges into his bosome swept :
not ascertained, but the proverb is traced to the works of Chaucer.
Eke wonder last but nine deies never in town.
CHAUCER, Troilus and Creseide.
A book on any subject by a peasant, or a peer, is no longer so much as a nine-days wonder.— ASCHAM'S Schoole-master.
92 THE PROVERBS OF
Where love had appeared in him to her away Hot as a toste, it grewe cold as kay^ Hee at meate carving her, and none els before, Now carved he to all but her, and to her no more. Where her words seemde hony, by his smiling cheare, Now are they mustard, he frowneth them to heare. And when shee sawe sweete sauce began to ware sowre, She waxt as sowre as he, and as well could lowre. So turned they their tippets1* by way of exchaunge, From laughing to lowring, and taunts did so raunge ; That in plaine termes, plaine truth to you to utter, They two agreed like two cats in a gutter. Mary sir, (quoth he), by scratching and biting. Cats and dogs come together, by folks reciting. Together by the eares they come, (quoth I), cheerely. How be it those wordes are not voide here cleerely ; For in one state they twaine could not yet settle,
11 Cold as kay.
Poor key-cold figure of a holy king.
Richard III. i. 2.
12 So turned they their tippets.
"To turn tippet "meant, and means, to make a complete change. Now it is applied to one going over to an adversary ; formerly it was usually said of a maid becoming a wife.
Another Bridget ; one that for a face Would put down Vesta ; You to turn tippet !
BEN JONSON, Case is Altered.
JOHN HEYWOOD.
93
But wavering as the winde ; in docke, out nettle™ Now in, now out ; now here, now there ; now sad, Now mery ; now hie, now lowe ; now good, now bad. In which unstedy sturdy stormes streinabl'e, To know how they both were irrefreynable, Marke how they fell out, and how they fell in, At end of a supper shee did thus begin.
13 In do eke, out nettle.
A charm for a nettle sting which had early passed into a proverb expressive of inconstancy.
Ye wete well Ladie eke (quoth I) that I have not plaid racket, Nettle in, Docke out, and with this the weathercocke waved. — CHAUCER, Testament of Love.
Is this my in dock, out nettle ? MIDDLETON, More Dissemblers besides Women.
94 THE PROVERBS OF
CHAPTER II.
( USBAND, (quoth shee), I would we were in
our nest; When the belly is full, the bones would be
at rest.
So soone uppon supper, (sayd he), no question, Sleepe maketh ill and unholsome digestion. By that diet a great disease once I gat ; And burnt child fire dredth ; 14 I will beware of that. What a post of phisicke, (sayd shee), yee a post. And from post to piller^ wife, I have been tost
14 Burnt child fire dredth.
Timon. Why urge yee me ? my hart doth boyle with heate, And will not stoope to any of your lures : A burnt childe dreads the ffyre. — Timon, circa 1590.
So that child withdraweth is hond, From the fur ant the brond,
That hath byfore bue brend. " Brend child fur dredth,"
Quoth Hendyng.
Proverbs of Hendyng, MS. circa 1320.
15 From post to filler.
Meletya. Sister, is not your waighting- wench rich ?
Celia. Why, sister, why ?
Meletya. Because she can flatter, Pree-thee call her not. She
JOHN HEY WOOD. 95
By that surfet. And I feele a little fyt
Even now, by former attempting of it.
Whereby, except I shall seeme to leave my wit
Before it leave me, I must now leave it.
I thanke God, (quoth shee), I never yet felt paine
To goe to bed timely, but rising againe,
Too soone in the morning, hath mee displeased.
And I, (quoth he), have been more diseased
By earely liyng downe, then by early rising.
But thus differ folke lo, in exercysing ;
That one may not, an other may.
Use maketh maistry ; and men many times say,
That one loveth not, an other doth ; which hath sped,
A II meates to be eaten and all maides to be wed.
Haste ye to bed now, and rise ye as readie,
While I rise earely and come to bed late.
Long lying warme in bed is holesome, (quoth shee).
While the leg warmeth, the boote harmeth,^ (quoth he). Well, (quoth shee), he that doth as most men do,
Shalbe least wondred on, and take any two,
has twenty-four houres to maddam yet, Come you, you prate, y faith, lie tosse you from post to piller ! — MARSTON'S What you Will, 1607.
16 While the leg warmeth, the boote harmeth.
Whan the scho harmt the fot war . . .
MS. Harleian, circa 1490.
96 THE PROVERBS OF
That be man and wife in all this whole towne, And most part together they rise and lie downe. When birds shall roost, (quoth he), at viii, ix, or ten, Who shall appoynt their houre, the cock or the hen ? The hen, (quoth shee) ; the cocke, (quoth he) ; just,
(quoth she),
As Jermans lips.11 It shall prove more just (quoth he). Then prove I, (quoth shee), the more foole far away ; But there is no foole to the old foole ',18 folke say. Ye are wise inough, (quoth he), if ye keepe ye warme. To be kept warme, and for none other harme, Nor for much more good, I tooke you to wed. I tooke not you, (quoth he), night and day to bed. Her carraine carkas, (sayd hee), is so cold, Because shee is aged, and somewhat too old,
17 Just . . . as Jennans lips.
As just as German's lips, which came not together by nine mile. — LATIMER;S Remaines*
Agree like Dogge and Catte, and meete as just as Germans lippes. — GOSSON'S Schole of Abuse.
18 No foole to the old foole.
Comedie upon comedie he shall have ; a morall, a historic, a tragedie, or what he will. One shal be called the Doctor's dumpe . . . and last a pleasant Enter lude of No Foole to the Olde Foole, with a jigge at the latter end in English hexameters of 0 Neighbour Gabriell! ! and his wooing of Kate Cotton. — N ASH'S Have with you to Saffron Walden, 1 596.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 97
That shee kilth mee. I doe but roste a stone?*
In warming her. And shall not I save one,
As shee would save an other ? yes by seint Johne.
A syr, (quoth shee), mary this geare is alone.
Who that worst may shall holde the candell ; I see ;
I must warme bed for him should warme it for mee.
This medicine thus ministred is sharpe and cold ;
But all things that is sharpe is short, folke have told.
This trade is now b[e]gun, but if it holde on,
Then farewell my good dayes, they will be soone gon.
Gospell in thy mouth, (quoth hee), this strife to breake !
How be it, all is not Gospell that thou doest speake.
But what neede we lumpe out love at ones lashing,
As wee should now shake handes ? what ! soft for
dashing.
Thefayre lasteth all the year e. We be new knit, And so late met, that I feare wee part not yit; Quoth the baker to the pilory. Which thing, From distemperate fonding, temperance may bring. And this reason to aide and make it more strong,
19 Roste a stone.
They may garlicke pill Gary sackes to the mil Or pescoddes they may shil Or els go roste a stone.
SKELTON'S Why come ye not to Court? 1520.'
H
98 THE PROVERBS OF
Old wise folke say ; love me litle, love me long™
I say little, (sayd shee), but I thinke more ;
Thought is free ^ Ye leane, (quoth he), to the wrong shore. (Brauling booted not, he was not that night bent i To play the bridegroome. Alone to bed shee went,
This was their beginning of jar. How be it,
For a beginning, this was a feate fit,
And but a fleabiting to that did ensew.
The worst is behinde. We come not where it grewe.
How say you, (sayd he to me), by my wife ?
The divell hath cast a bone, (sayd I), to set strife
Betweene you, but it were a folly for me,
To put my hand betweene the barke and the tree,
Or to put my finger too far in the fire,
Betweene you, and lay my credite in the mire.
20 Love me litle, love me long.
Bellamira. Come, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap. Ithamore. Love me little, love me long ; let music rumble, Whilst I in thy incony lap do tumble.
MARLOWE'S Jew of Malta, iv.
21 Thought is free.
Since thought is free, thinke what thou will,
O troubled hart to ease thy paine ! Thought unrevealed can do no evill,
Bot wordes past out, cummes not againe. Be cairefull aye for to invent The waye to gett thy owen intent.
Poem by James /. — MS. Add. 24,195.
JOHN HEYWOOD. 99
To meddle litle for mee it is best ;
For of litle medling commeth great rest?*
Yes, yee may meddle, (quoth hee), to make hir wise,
Without taking harme, in giving your advice.
She knoweth mee not yet, but if shee ware to wilde,
I shall make hir know, an old knave is no childe.
Slugging in bed with her is worse than watching.
I promise you, an olde sacke asketh much patching.
Well, (quoth I), to morowe I will to my beades,
To pray, that as ye both will so ake your heades,
And in meane time my aking head to cease,
I will couch a hogs head. Quoth he, when yee
please.
Wee parted, and this, within a day or twayne, Was rakte up in th' ashes and covered agayne.
22 Of litle medling commeth great rest.
Payne the not eche croked to redresse In truste of her that turneth as a ball : Crete reste stande in lytell besynesse, Beware also to sporne against a wall.
Proverbes of Lydgate.
THE PROVERBS OF
CHAPTER III.
; HESE two dayes past, hee sayd to mee, when
ye will, Come chat at home, all is well ; Jacke shall
have Gill
Who had the worse end of the staff e, (quoth I), now ? Shall the mayster weare a breeche^ or none, say you ? I trust the sowe will no more so deepe wroote ; But if shee doe, (quoth he), you must set in foote : And whom yee see out of the way, or shoote wide, Over shoote not your selfe any side to hide. But shoote out some wordes, if she be too hot. Shee may say, (quoth I), a fooles bolt is soone shot"
Weare a breeche.
All women be suche,
Thoughe the man here the breeche,
They wyll be ever checkemate.
The Boke of May d Emlyn,. 1515. A fooles bolt is soone shot.
Sot is sot, and that is sene ; For he wel speke wordes grene,
Er ther hue buen rype. " Sottes bolt is sone shote,"
Quoth Hendyng.
Proverbs of Hendyng^ MS. circa 1320.
JOHN HEYWOGD. 101
Yee will mee to a thankelesse office heere,
And a busy officer I may appeere ;
And Jacke out of office3 she may bid me walke,
And thinke me as wise as Waltams calfe? to talke,
Or chat of her charge, having therein nought to do.
How be it, if I see neede, as my part comth too,
Gladly betweene you I will doe my best.
I bid you to dinner, (quoth hee), as no guest,
And bring your poore neighbors on your other side. I
I did so. And streight as th' old Wife us espide,
3 Jacke out of office.
For liberalitie is tourned Jacke out of office, and others ap- pointed to have [the custodie. — RICH'S Farewell to Militarie Profession, 1581.
4 As wise as Waltams calfe.
For Waltham's calves to Tiburne needes must go To sucke a bull and meete a butchers axe.
The Braineles blessing of the Bull, 1571.
In SKELTON'S Colin Clout, 1520, an unsanctimonious divine is thus pourtrayed :
As wyse as Waltom's calfe, Must preche, a Goddes halfe, In the pulpy t solempnely ; More mete in the pyllory, For, by saynt Hyllary, He can nothyng smatter Of logyke nor scole matter.
Ray gives, " As wise as Walthams calf, that ran nine miles to suck a bull."
102 THE PROVERBS OF
Shee bad us welcome and merrily toward me ;
Greene rushes for this stranger,5 strew here, (quoth shee),
With this apart she puld me by the sleeve,
Saying in fewe words, my mind to you to meeve ;
So it is, that all our great fray the last night,
Is forgiven and forgotten betweene us quight.
And all fraies by this I trust have taken end ;
For I fully hope my husband will amend.
Well amended, (thought I), when yee both relent,
Not to your owne, but ech to others mendment.
Now if hope faile, (quoth she), and chaunce bring about
Any such breach, whereby wee fall againe out,
I pray you, tel him he is perverse now and than,
And winke on me. Also hardly, if yee can
Take me in any trip. Quoth I, I am loth
To meddle commonly. For as this tale goth ;
Who medleth in all thing, may shoe the gosling^
5 Greene rushes for this stranger.
It was usual, before the introduction of carpets, to strew rushes on the floors of dwelling-houses ; and on the entrance of a visitor, hospitality required that they should be renewed.
Where is this stranger ? Rushes, ladies, rushes : Rushes as green as summer for this stranger.
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER, Valentinian, ii. 4.
6 Who medleth in all thing, may shoe the gosling.
To shoe the goose (gosling here for the sake of rhyme) means simply to perform a work of supererogation. An inscription on
JOHN HEY WOOD. 103
Well, (quoth shee), your medling herein may be The winde calme betweene us, when it els might rage. I will with good will, (quoth I), ill windes to swage, Spend some winde at need, though I waste wind in
vaine.
To table we sat, where fine fare did remaine. Merry we were as cup and can could holde, Each one with each other homely and bolde. And she for her part, made us cheere heaven hie. The first part of dinner merry as a pie? But a scald head is soone broken ; and so they, As ye shall straight heare, fell at a new frey.
one of the stalls of Whalley Church of the date 1434 goes far to show the antiquity of the proverb :
Whoso melles of wat men dos, Let hym cum hier and shoo the ghos. And in Colin Clout, 1510 :
What hath lay men to do The gray goose for to sho !
In connection with this proverb may be mentioned another much on the same model, occurring in the Hundred Mery Talys, circa 1525 :
It is as great pyte to se a woman wepe as a gose to go barefote,
and reappearing in a new dress in Sir Walter Scott's novel, " Rob
Roy," where it is thus put into the mouth of Bailie Nicol Jarvie :
It's nae mair ferlie to see a woman greet than to see a goose
gang barefit.
7 Merry as a pie.
Eyre. By the Lord of Ludgate, my Liege, 111 be as merrie as a Pie. — DECKER'S Shomakers Holiday, 1600.
104 THE PROVERBS OF
CHAPTER IV
, USBAND, (quoth she), ye studie, be merrie
now,
And even as ye thinke now, so come to yow. Nay not so, (quoth he), for my thought to tell right, I thinke how you lay groning, wife, all last night. Husband, a groning horse and a groning ivife Never faile their master, (quoth she), for my life. No wife, a woman hath nine lives like a cat. Well, my lambe, (quoth she), ye may pick out of that, As soone goth the yong lambe skin to the market As th old y ewes? God forbid, wife, ye shall first jet. I will not jet yet, (quoth she), put no doubting ; // is a bad sack that will abide no clouting. And as we oft see, the looth stake standeth long, So it is an ill stake, I have heard among, That cannot stand one year e in a hedge. I drinke, (quoth she). Quoth he, I will not pledge. What neede all this, a man may love his house well,
8 As soone goth the yong lambe skin, Q^c.
It is a common saying there do come as many skins of calves to the market as there do of bulls or kine. — BARCLAY'S Ship of Fools.
JOHN HEY WOOD. 105
Tfwug/i he ride not on the ridge ; I have heard tell. What, I weene, (quoth she), proferd service stinketh? But somewhat it is, I see, when the cat winketh, And both her eyen out, but further strife to shunne, Let the cat winke, and let the mouse runne. This past, and he cheered us all, but most cheere On his part, to this fayre yong wife did appeare. And as he to her cast oft a loving eye, So cast her husband like eye to his plate by. Wherewith in a great musing he was brought. Friend, (quoth the good man), apeny for your thought ?10 For my thought, (quoth he), that is a goodly dish : But of troth I thought ; better to have then wish. What, a goodly yong wife, as you have, (quoth he) ? Nay, (quoth he), gooldly gilt goblets, as here be. Bir Ladie friends, (quoth I), this maketh a show, To shew you more unnaturall then the crow ;
9 Proferd service stinketh.
In Vulgaria Slambrigi, 1510.
10 A. petty for your thought.
Me thinke, Euphues, chaunging so your colour upon the so- deine, you wil soone chaunge your coppie : is your minde on your meate ? a penny for your thought.
Mistres (quoth he) if you would by al my thoughts at that price, I should never be wearye of thinking, but seeing it is too deare, reade it and take it for nothing. — Euphues. The Anatomy of Wit, 1579-
io6 THE PROVERBS OF
The crow thinkth her owne birds fairest in the wood.n But by your words, (except I wrong understood), Each others birds or jewels, you doe wey Above your owne. True, (quoth the old wife), ye