WHY THE STAFFE IS CALLED A FILCH.
THUS much for their Fraternities, Names, Lodgings, and Assemblies, at all which times euery one of them carryes a short staffe in his hand, which is called a Filch, hauing in the Nab or head of it, a Ferme (that is to say, a hole) into which vpon any piece of seruice, when he goes a Filching; he putteth a hoake of yron, with which hooke hée angles at a window in the dead of night, for shirts, smockes, or any other linnen or woollen: and for that reason is the staffe tearmed a Filch. So that it is as certaine that hée is an Angler for Duds, who hath a Ferme in the Nab of his Filch, as that hée is a théefe, who vpon the high-way cryes stand, and takes a purse. This Staffe serueth to more vses, then eyther the Crosse-staffe or the Iacobs, but the vses are not so good nor so honest: for this Filching-staffe being artificially handled, is able now and then to mill a Grunter, a bleating Cheate, a Redshanke, a Tib of the Buttry, and such like, or to Fib a Coues Quarrons in the Rome-pad, for his Loure in his bung, that is to say, to kill a Pigge, a Shéepe, a Ducke, a Goose, and such like, or to beate a man by the high-way for the money in his purse. And yet for all these base villanies and others, of what blackenesse soeuer they be, you shall at euery Assises and Sessions, sée swarmes of them boldly ventering amongst the Prisoners: one cause of their tempting their owne danger so, is, that being sworne brothers in league, and partnerts in one and the same théeuery, it behooues them to listen to the Prisoners confession (which they doe secretly) and so to take their héeles, if they spye a storme comming. Another cause is, to learne what time-twigges caught the Bird i’th Cage, and how he was entangled by the Iustice in his examination, that thereby hee abroad may shunne the like: but the Diuell is their Tutor, Hell their Schoole, Théeuery, Roaguery and Whoredome the Arts they Study, before Doctor Story they dispute, and at the Gallowes are made Graduates of Newgate and other Gaoles, (the Hang-mans Colledges.) To shut vp this feast merrily, (as swéete meates are best last,) your last dish which I set before you, to digest the hardnesse of the rest, is a Canting Song, not fained or composed as those of the Bel-mans were, out of his owne braine, but by the Canters themselues, and sung at their méetings.
The Canting Song.
1
BIng out bien Morts, and toure, and toure,
bing out bien Morts and toure:
For all your Duds are bingd awaste,
the bien Coue hath the loure.
2
I met a Dell, I viewde her well,
she was benship to my watch:
So she and I, did stall and cloy
what euer we could catch.
3
This Doxie dell, can cut bien whids,
and wap well for a win:
And prig and cloy so benshiply,
all the Dewse-auile within.
4
The boyle was vp, wee had good lucke,
in frost, for and in snow:
When they did seeke, then we did creepe,
and plant in ruffe-mans low.
5
To Stawling Kenne, the Mort bings then,
to fetch loure for her cheates:
Duds and Ruffe-pecke, rumboild by Harman becke,
and won by Mawnders feates.
6
You Mawnders all, stow what you stall,
to Rome-coues watch so quire:
And wapping Dell, that niggles well,
and takes loure for her hire.
7
And Iybe well Ierkt, tick rome comfeck,
for backe by glymmar to mawnd:
To mill each Ken, let coue bing then,
through ruffe-mans lague or launde.
8
Till Cramprings quier, tip Coue his hire,
and quier kens doe them catch:
A canniken; mill quier Cuffen,
so quier to ben coues watch.
9
Bein darkmans then, bouse, mort and ken,
the bien coue’s bingd a wast:
On chates to trine, by Rome-coues dine,
for his long lib at last.
10
Bingd out bien morts, and toure, and toure,
bing out of the Rome-vile:
And toure the coue, that cloyde your duds,
vpon the chates to trine.
FINIS.
Thus for satisfaction of the Readers, Englished.
1
GOe forth (braue girles) looke out, looke out,
looke out I say (good Connies)
For all your cloathes are stolne (I doubt)
mad shauers share the monyes.
2
I met a Drab, I likde her well,
(my bowles did fit her alley:)
We both did vow to rob pell-mell,
and so abroad did sally.
3
This bowncing Trull can rarely talke,
a penny will make her — :
Through any towne which she doth walke,
nought can her filching scape.
4
The house being raizde aside wée stept,
and through the mire did wade:
To auoid Hue and Cry, to a hedge we crept,
and vnder it close were laid.
5
Toth’ Broakers then my hedge-bird flyes,
for stolne goods bringing coyne:
Which (tho the Constable after hies)
our trickes away purloyne.
6
You mawnding rogues, how you steale beware
for priuie search is made:
Take héede thou to, (thou hackney-mare)
whone’er art ridden, but paid.
7
A Licence got with counterfeit Seale
to begge (as if vndone
By fire) to breake each house, and steale,
o’er hedge and ditch then runne.
8
Till Shackels soundly pay vs home,
and to the Iayle compell vs:
Ill may the Iustice euer thriue,
so cruell to Good Fellowes.
9
Swéet Punck, béere-house, & béere, good night,
the honest Roague’s departed
To hanging, (by the Iustice spite)
to his long home hée’s carted.
10
Away swéete Duckes, with gréedy eyes,
from London walke vp Holbourne:
Sue him who stole your cloathes: hée flyes
with hempen-wings to Tybourne.
FINIS.
THE COLD YEARE
A deepe Snow: In which Men and Cattell haue perished, To the generall losse of Farmers, Grasiers, Husbandmen, and all sorts of people in the Countrie; and no lesse hurtfull to Citizens. Written Dialogue-wise, in a plaine familiar talke betweene a London Shop-keeper, and a North-Country-man. In which, the Reader shall finde many thinges for his profit.
Imprinted at London by W. W. for Thomas Langley where they are to be sold.
1615.
THE GREAT SNOW. A DIALOGVE.
The speakers: A Cittizen, a North-Country-man.
North-Country-man.
GOD saue you Sir: here’s a Letter directs me to such a signe as that hanging ouer your doore; (and if I be not deceaued) this is the Shoppe: Is not your name Maister N. B?
Cittizen.
N. B. is my name (Father:) What is your businesse?
Nor.
I haue Letters to you out of the North.
Cit.
From whom, I pray?
Nor.
From one Maister G. M. of Y.
Cit.
I know him very well; and if I may heare by you that he is in health. I shall thinke you a bringer of good and happie newes.
Nor.
Good and happy newes doe I bring you then; (for thankes be to God) health and hee haue not parted this many a yeare.
Cit.
Trust me, your tidings warmes my heart, as cold as the weather is.
Nor.
A Cup of muld Sacke (I thinke) would doe you more good. But
to put a better heate into you, I haue from your Friende and mine, brought you two Bagges full of comfort, each of them weighing a hundred pound of currant English money.
Citt.
Birlady Sir, the Sacke you spake of, would not goe downe halfe so merrily, as this newes: For Money was neuer so welcome to Londoners (especially tradesmen) as it is now.
Nor.
Why? Is it as scanty heere, as with vs? I thought if the Siluer age had been any where, your Cittie had challenged it. Mee thinkes our Northerne Climate, should onely be without Siluer Mynes, because the Sunne (the soueraigne breeder of rich Mettals) is not so prodigall of his beames to vs. Why haue been told, that all the Angels of the Kingdome fly vp & downe London: Nay I haue heard, that one of our ruffling Gallants in these dayes, weares more Riches on his Backe, in Hatte, Garters, and Shooe-stringes, then would maintaine a good pretty Farme in our Country, and keepe a Plough-land for a whole yeare.
Cit.
Wee care not how braue our Gallants goe, so their names stand not in our Bookes: For when a Cittizen crosses a Gentleman, hee holdes it one of the chiefest Cheapeside-blessings.
Nor.
I vnderstand you Sir: You care not what Cullours they weare, so you keepe them not in Blacke and White.
Citt.
You measure vs rightly: for the keeping of some so, (that carry their heads full high) makes many a good Shop-keeper oftentimes to hide his Head. So that albeit you that dwell farre off, and know not what London meanes, thinke (as you say) that al the Angels of the Kingdome, fly vp & downe heere. We, whole Wares lie dead vpon our hands for want of quicke Customers, see no such matter: but if any Angels doe fly, they haue either their Winges broken and fly not farre; or else are caught like Partidges, a few in a Couie. Albeit Sir, I haue all this while helde talke with you, yet mine eye hath runne ouer these Letters, and acknowledge my selfe your debtor, in respect an Age so reuerend (as your head warrants you are) hath been the Messenger. But I hope Sir, some greater especiall businesse of your owne besides, drew you to so troublesome a Iorney.
Nor.
Troth Sir, no extraordinarie businesse: The Countimans hands are now held aswell in his Pocket, as the Shopkeepers. That drew mee to London, which drawes you Cittizens out of your Houses; or to speake more truely, driues you rather into your Houses.
Cit.
How meane you Sir, the Weather?
Nor.
The very same. I haue been an old Brier, and stood many a Northerly Storme: the Windes haue often blowne bitterly in my Face, Frostes haue nipped my Blood, Ysickles (you see) hang at my Beard, and a hill of Snow couers my Head. I am the Sonne of Winter, and so like the Father, that as hee does, I loue to be seene in all places. I had as leife walke vp to the knees in Snow, as to tread vpon Turkie Carpets: And therefore my Iorney to see London once more ere I die, is as merry to mee, as if I were a Woman and went a Gossipping; For the Earth shewes now, as if shee lay inne, (All in White.)
Cit.
Belike then you haue heard she hath been deliuered of some strange prodigious Birthes, that you come thus farre, to see her Child-bed?
Nor.
I haue from my Childhood spent my best daies in trauell, and haue seene the wonders of other Countries, but am most in loue with this of mine owne.
Cit.
Where, if any be borne neuer so well proportiond, within a day or two it growes to be a Monster.
Nor.
You say true, and iumpe wich me in that: For I haue but two Eares; yet these two Eares bring me home a thousand tales in lesse then seuen dates: Some I hearken to, some I shake my head at, some I smile at, some I thinke true, some I know false. But because this world is like our Millers in the Countrey, knauish and hard to be trusted; though mine eares be mine owne, and good, yet I had rather giue credite to mine Eyes, although they see but badly, yet I know they will not couzeu me: these foure score yeares they haue not; and that is the reason I haue them my Guides now in this Iourney, and shall be my witnesses (when I get home) againe, and sitte (as I hope I shall, turning a Crabbe by the fire) of what wonders I haue seene.
Cit.
In good sadnes Father, I am proude that such a heape of yeers (lying on your back) you stoope no lower for them: I come short of you by almost forty at the least, and mee thinks I am both more vnlusty, and (but for head and beard) looke as aged.
Nor.
Oh Sir! riotts, riotts, surfets ouernights, and early potting it next morning, sticke white haires vpon Young-mens chinnes, when sparing dyets holds colour: Your cram’d Capons feed you fatte beere in London; but our Beefe and Bacon feeds vs strong in the Countrey. Long sleepes and past-midnights-watchings, dry vp your blouds, and wither your cheekes: Wee goe to bedde with the Lambe, and rise with the Larke, which makes vs healthfull as the Spring. You are still sending to the Apothecaries, and still crying out, Fetch Maister Doctor to me: But our Apothecaries shoppe, is our Garden full of Pot-hearbes; and our Docter is a cloue of Garlicke: Besides, you fall to Wenching, and marry heere in London, when a Stranger may thinke you are all Girles in Breeches, (your chinnes are so smooth,) and like Cock-sparrows, are treading so soone as you creepe out of the shell, which makes your liues short as theirs is: But in our Countrey, wee hold it as dangerous to venture vpon a Wife, as into a Set-battaile: It was 36. eare I was prest to that Seruice; and am now as lusty and sound at heart (I praise my God) as my yoake of Bullockes, that are the seruants to my Plough.
Citt.
Yet I wonder, that hauing no more Sande in the Glasse of your life, how you durst set foorth, and how you could come thus farre?
Nor.
How I durst set foorth? If it were 88. againe, and all the Spanish Fire-workes at Sea, I would thrust this old battered Breast-plate into the thickest of them. Wee haue Trees in our Towne that beare Fruite in Winter; I am one of those Winter-plummes: And though I taste a little sower, yet I haue an Oake in my Belly, and shall not rotte yet (I hope) for all this blustering weather.
Citt.
It were pietie you should yet be felled downe, you may stand (no doubt) and grow many a faire yeare.
Nor.
Yes Sir, my growing must now be downeward, like an Eare of Corne when it is ripe. But I beseech you tell mee, Are all those Newes currant, which wee heare in the County?
Cit.
What are they pray?
Nor.
Marry sir, that your goodly Riuer of Thames, (I call it yours, because you are a Cittizen; and because it is the Nurse that giues you Milke and Hony) Is that (as tis reported) all frozen ouer againe, that Coaches run vpon it?
Cit.
No such matt••
Nor.
When I it I prayed God to helpe the Fishes; it would hard world with them, if their Houses were taken their heads Nay Sir, I heard it constantly affirmed that all the Youth of the Cittie, did muster vpon it in battaile Array, one halfe against the other: And by my truth, I would haue ambled on my bare ten-Toes a brace of hundred Miles, to haue seene such a triumph.
Citt.
In sadnesse (I thinke) so would thousands besides your selfe: But neither hath the Riuer been this yeare (for all the vehement cold) so hard-hearted, as to haue such a glassy crusted floare; neither haue our Youth been vp in Armes in so dangerous a Fielde: Yet true it is, that the Thames began to play a few cold Christmas Gambols; and that very Children (in good Array) great numbers, and with War-like furniture of Drummes, Cullours, Pikes, and Gunnes, (fit to their handling) haue sundry times mette Armie against Armie, in-most of the Fieldes about the Cittie; to the great reioycing of their Parents, and numbers of beholders.
Nor.
In good sooth I am sory, I was not one of those standers by: I haue been brought vp as a Scholler my selfe; and when I was young, our Warres were wrangling disputations: but now it seemes, that Learning surfets, hauing too many Schollers; And that wee shall need Souldiers, when such young Cockrels addresse to a Battaile: It shewes like the Epitome of Warre; and it is a wonder for men to read it. Our Pa
inters in former Ages haue not drawne such Pictures. But you cut mee off from what I was about else to know.
Citt.
What is that, Father?
Nor.
A Bird came flying into the North, and chattered, that Snowfell in such abundance within and round about the Cittie of London that none without could enter; nor any within passe •o .
Citt.
Fables, Fables A may by the shadow, haue some guesse how great the substance is: Your owne eye (vpon now being in London) can witnesse that your Northern song went to a wrong tune.
Nor.
And yet by your fauour, I thinke you haue not seene your Cittie so whited this fourtie yeares.
Cit.
Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker Page 253