1609

you for fear of the sharpness it carries with it. Besides, it Dekker will add much to your fame to let your tongue walk faster than your teeth, though you be never so hungry, and, rather than you should sit like a dumb coxcomb, to repeat by heart either some verses of your own or of any other man's, stretching even very good lines upon the rack of the censure: though it be against all law, honesty, or conscience, it may chance save you the price of your Ordinary, and beget you other suppliments. Marry, I would further intreat our poet to be in league with the Mistress of the Ordinary, because from her (upon condition that he will but rhyme Knights and young Gentlemen to her house, and maintain the table in good fooling) he may easily make up his mouth at her cost, gratis.

Thus much for particular men. But in general let all that are in Ordinary-pay, march after the sound of these directions. Before the meat come smoking to the board, our gallant must draw out his tobacco-box, the ladle for the cold snuff into the nostril, the tongs and prining-iron: all which artillery may be of gold or silver (if he can reach to the price of it), it will be a reasonable useful pawn at all times, when the current of his money falls out to run low. And here you must observe to know in what state tobacco is in town better than the merchants, and to discourse of the apothecaries where it is to be sold and to be able to speak of their wines, as readily as the apothecary himself reading the barbarous hand of a doctor: then let him show his several tricks in taking it, as the Whiff, the Ring, etc. For these are complements that gain Gentlemen no mean respect, and for which indeed they are more worthily noted, I ensure you, than for any skill that they have in learning.

When you are set down to dinner, you must eat as impudently as can be (for that is most gentleman-like): when your Knight is upon his stewed mutton, be presently, though you be but a Captain, in the bosom of your goose: and when

Dekker your Justice of Peace is knuckle-deep in goose, you may, 1609 without disparagement to your blood, though you have a Lady to your mother, fall very manfully to your woodcocks....

After dinner, every man as his business leads him : some to dice, . . . some to plays, some to take up friends in the Court, some to take up money in the City, some to lend testers in Paul's, others to borrow crowns upon the Exchange: and thus, as the people is said to be a beast of many heads (yet all those heads like Hydra's) ever growing, . . . so, in an Ordinary, you shall find the variety of a whole Kingdom in a few apes of the Kingdom.

1

You must not swear in your dicing: for that argues a violent impatience to depart from your money, and in time will betray a man's need. Take heed of it. No! whether you be at primero or hazard, you shall sit as patiently (though you lose a whole half-year's exhibition) as a disarmed gentleman does when he's in the unmerciful fingers of Serjeants. Marry, I will allow you to sweat privately, and tear six or seven score pair of cards, be the damnation of some dozen or twenty bale of dice, and forswear play a thousand times in an hour, but not swear. Dice yourself into your shirt: : and, if you have a beard that your friend will lend but an angel upon, shave it off, and pawn that, rather than to go home blind 2 to your lodging. Further, it is to be remembered, he that is a great gamester may be trusted for a quarter's board at all times, and apparel provided, if need be.

At your twelvepenny Ordinary, you may give any Justice of Peace, or young Knight (if he sit but one degree towards the equinoctial of the saltseller) leave to pay for the wine; and he shall not refuse it, though it be a week before the receiving of his quarter's rent, which is a time albeit of good hope, yet of present necessity.

1 Packs.

Thomas Dekker.

2 Penniless.

Is

THREE CHARACTERS

I

A WORTHY COMMANDER IN THE WARS

S one that accounts learning the nourishment of military Overbury virtue, and lays that as his first foundation. He never 1616 bloudies his sword but in heat of battle; and had rather save one of his own soldiers than kill ten of his enemies. He accounts it an idle, vainglorious, and suspected bounty to be full of good words; his rewarding, therefore, of the deserver arrives so timely, that his liberality can never be said to be gouty-handed. He holds it next his creed, that no coward can be an honest man, and dare die in it. He doth not think his body yields a more spreading shadow after a victory than before; and when he looks upon his enemy's dead body, 'tis with a kind of noble heaviness, not insultation; he is so honourably merciful to women in surprisal, that only makes him an excellent courtier. He knows the hazard of battles, not the pomp of ceremonies, are soldiers' best theatres, and strives to gain reputation, not by the multitude, but by the greatness of his actions. He is the first in giving the charge, and the last in retiring his foot. Equal toil he endures with the common soldier: from his example they all take fire, as one torch lights many. He understands in war there is no mean to err twice; the first, and least fault being sufficient to ruin an army: faults, therefore, he pardons none; they that are presidents of disorder, or mutiny, repair it by being examples of his justice. Besiege him never so strictly, so long as the air is not cut from him, his heart faints not. He hath learned so well to make use of a victory, as to get it, and in pursuing his enemy like a whirlwind carries all afore him; being assured, if ever a man would benefit himself upon his foe, then is the time, when they have lost force, wisdom,

VOL. I.

Ꭱ

Overbury courage, and reputation. The goodness of his cause is the 1616 special motive to his valour; never is he known to slight the weakest enemy that comes armed against him in the hand of justice. Hasty and overmuch heat he accounts the stepdame to all great actions, that will not suffer them to thrive : if he cannot overcome his enemy by force, he does it by time. If ever he shake hands with war, he can die more calmly than most courtiers, for his continual dangers have been, as it were, so many meditations of death; he thinks not out of his own calling when he accounts life a continual warfare, and his prayers then best become him when armed cap-à-pie. He utters them like the great Hebrew general, on horseback. He casts a smiling contempt upon calumny, it meets him as if glass should encounter adamant. He thinks war is never to be given o'er, but on one of these three conditions: an assured peace, absolute victory, or an honest death. Lastly, when peace folds him up, his silver head should lean near the golden sceptre, and die in his prince's bosom.

II

A TINKER

Is a movable: for he hath no abiding place. By his motion he gathers heat, thence his choleric nature. He seems to be very devout, for his life is a continual pilgrimage, and sometimes in humility goes barefoot, thereon making necessity a virtue. His house is as ancient as Tubal Cain's, and so is [he] a runagate by antiquity: yet he proves himself a gallant, for he carries all his wealth upon his back; or a philosopher, for he bears all his substance about him. From his art was music first invented, and therefore is he always furnished with a song: to which his hammer keeping tune, proves that he was the first founder of the kettle-drum. Note, that where the best ale is, there stands his music most

1616

upon crotchets. The companion of his travels is some foul, Overbury sunburnt quean, that since the terrible Statute recanted gipsyism, and is turned pedleress. So marches he all over England with his bag and baggage. His conversation is unreprovable; for he is ever mending. He observes truly the statutes, and therefore he can rather steal than beg, in which he is unremovably constant in spite of whips or imprisonment and a so strong enemy to idleness, that in mending one hole he had rather make three than want work, and when he hath done he throws the wallet of his faults behind him. He embraceth naturally ancient custom, conversing in open fields and lowly cottages. If he visit cities or towns, 'tis but to deal upon the imperfections of our weaker vessels. His tongue is very voluble, which with canting proves him a linguist. He is entertained in every place, but enters no further than the door, to avoid suspicion. Some would take him to be a coward; but believe it, he is a lad of mettle, his valour is commonly three or four yards long, fastened to a pike in the end for flying off. He is very provident, for he will fight but with one at once, and then also he had rather submit than be counted obstinate. To conclude, if he 'scape Tyburn and Banbury he dies a beggar.

III

A FAIR AND HAPPY MILK-MAID

Is a country wench, that is so far from making herself beautiful by art, that one look of hers is able to put all face-physic out of countenance. She knows a fair look is but a dumb orator to commend virtue, therefore minds it not. All her excellencies stand in her so silently, as if they had stolen upon her without her knowledge. The lining of her apparel (which is herself) is far better than outsides of tissue for though she be not arrayed in the spoil of the