courted him with loving letters and presents, while in the mean time his plots were ripened abroad, and he surprised the county of Ponthieu, our king's undeniable inheritance, before King Edward heard thereof.

King Edward hereupon calls a parliament, declares the breach, craves aid, and hath it granted; and then again claims the crown of France, and sent over his son John, Duke of Lancaster, and Humphry de Bohun, Earl of Hereford, with a great army to Calais to invade France.

Among the states and towns made over to the English at the treaty of Bretagne, which had revolted to the French, was the city of Limosin: thither did the Prince march, and sat down with his army before it : and, not long after, came unto him, out of England, his two brethren, the Duke of Lancaster and the Earl of Cambridge, with a fresh supply of valiant captains and soldiers. The city stood it out to the uttermost, and was at last taken by storm, where no mercy was shewed by the inraged soldiers, but the sword and fire laid all desolate after this service, the prince's health failing him more and more, he left his brethren in Aquitain to prosecute the wars, and himself, taking ship, came over to his father in England, his eldest son, Edward, being dead a little before at Bourdeaux, and brought over with him his wife and his other son Richard.

The prince having left France, his dominions were either taken away, or fell away faster than they were gotten; Gueschlin entered Poictou, took Montmorillon, Chauvigny, Lussack, and Moncontour. Soon after followed the country of Aulnis, of Xantoigne, and the rest of Poictou : then St. Maxent, Neel, Aulnay: then Benaon, Marant, Surgers, Fontency, and at last they came to Thouras, where the most part of the lords of Poictou, that held with the prince, were assembled. At this time the king, Prince Edward, the Duke of Lancaster, and all the great lords of England set forward for their relief: but, being driven back by a tempest, and succour not coming, Thouras was yielded up upon composition. In fine, all Poictou was lost, and then Aquitain, all, but only Bourdeaux and Bayonne. And not long after Prince Edward died, and with him the fortune of England. He was a prince so full of virtues as were scarce matchable by others. He died at Canterbury upon Trinity. Sunday, June 8, in the forty-sixth year of his age, and the forty-ninth of his father's reign, and was buried in Christ's-Church there, Anno Christi, 1376.

Among all the gallant men of that age, this our prince was so worthily the first, that,

Longe erit a primo quisque secundus erit.

He had a sumptuous monument erected for him, upon which this Epitaph was engraven in brass, in French thus Englished:

'Here lieth the noble Prince Monsieur Edward, the eldest son of the thrice noble King Edward the Third, in former time, Prince of 'Aquitain, and of Wales, Duke of Cornwal, and Earl of Chester, who 'died on the feast of the Trinity, which was the eight of June, in the year of grace, 1376. To the soul of whom, God grant mercy. Amen.'

6

After which were added these verses in French, thus translated, açcording to the homely poetry of those times:

Who so thou art that passest by,
Where these corpse entombed lie:
Understand what I shall say,
As, at this time, speak I may.
Such as thou art, sometime was I:
Such as I am, such shalt thou be.
I little thought on th' hour of death,
So long as I enjoyed breath.
Great riches here I did possess,
Whereof I made great nobleness.
I had gold, silver, wardrobes, and
Great treasures, horses, houses, land.
But now a caitiff poor am I,

Deep in the ground, lo here I lie:
My beauty great is all quite gone,
My flesh is wasted to the bone:

My house is narrow now, and throng;
Nothing but truth comes from my tongue.
And, if you should see me this day,
I do not think but ye would say,
That I had never been a nian,

So much altered row I am.

For God's sake, pray to the heavenly king†,
That he my soul to heaven would bring.
All they that pray and make accord
For me unto my God and Lord;
God place them in his paradise,
Wherein no wretched caitiff lies.

The death of this prince, saith Daniel in his History of England, was a heavy loss to the state, being a prince of whom we never heard no ill, never received any other note but of goodness, and the noblest performance that magnanimity and wisdom could ever shew, insomuch as what praise could be given to virtue, is due to him.

* See the ignorance and superstition of those times, and bless God for our clearer light.

FOUR FOR A PENNY:

OR,

POOR ROBIN'S CHARACTER OF AN UNCONSCIONABLE PAWN-BROKER,

And Ear-mark of an oppressing Tally-Man:

WITH A FRIENDLY DESCRIPTION OF A

BUM-BAILEY, AND HIS MERCILESS SETTING-CUR, OR FOLLOWER. WITH ALLOWANCE.

London, printed for L. C. 1678. Quarto, containing eight pages.

WE E here present you, gentlemen, with a parcel of beasts of prey, worse than ever Africk bred; and more unclean than any that entered into Noah's ark; yet cloven footed in imitation of their sire; and all so superlative in their kinds, that each may dispute for prece dency only, for method-sake, we shall begin with the most sly and dangerous.

An unconscionable pawn-broker (for there are conscionable dealers in that way, that are a relief and comfort to the poor; and those are not concerned in this character:) an unconscionable pawn-broker, I say, is Pluto's factor, old Nick's warehouse-keeper, an English Jew that lives and grows fat on fraud and oppression, as toads, on filth and venom; whose practice outvies usury, as much as incest simple forni. cation; and to call him, a tradesman, must be by the same figure, that pickpockets stile their legerdemain, an art and mystery. His shop, like hell gates, is always open, where he sits at the receipt of custom, like Cacus in his den, ready to devour all that is brought him; and, having gotten your spoils, hangs them up in rank and file, as so many trophies of victory. Hither all sorts of garments resort in pilgrimage, whilst he, playing the pimp, lodges the tabby-petticoat and russetbreeches together in the same bed of lavender.

He is the treasurer of the thieves exchequer, the common fender of all bulkers and shop-lifts in the town. To this purpose, he keeps a pri vate warehouse, and ships away the ill gotten goods by wholesale: dread, ing nothing so much, as that a convict should honestly confess how he disposed the moveables. He is a kind of disease quite contrary to the gout; for, as that haunts the rich, so this mainly torments the poor, and scarce leaves them so much as a primitive fig-leaf to cover their na kedness. Mrs. Joan, when she is minded to see her sweet-heart, and Gammar Blue blottle going to a christening, muster up the pence, on the Saturday night to redeem their best riggings out of captivity; but, on Monday morning, infallibly bring them back (like thieves that had only made an escape) to the old Limbus; and this so often, till, at last,

they know the way, and can go to pawn alone by themselves. Thus they are forced to purchase the same cloaths seven times over; and, for want of a chest to keep them in at home, it costs thrice as much as they are worth for their lodging in his custody. When they come in, like other prisoners, they first pay garnish, the two-pences for entrancemoney; after this, six-pence a month for every twenty shillings lent, which yet indeed is but nineteen shillings and six-pence; that is, according to their reckoning of thirteen months to the year, six shillings and six-pence interest, for one pound for a year; which makes thirty-three pounds, six shillings, and eight-pence in the hundred, viz. One third part of the principal, and just twenty-seven pounds, six shillings, and eight-pence more than the statute allows; besides twelve-pence for a bill of sale, if the matter be considerable. So that, since they never lend half · the value on any thing that is brought them, if a pawn-broker lay out a hundred pounds, he first makes near forty pounds, per annum, advantage certain, as aforesaid: and then considering how many thieves, &c. (their chief customers that bring the lumping bargains) never intend to redeem, and how many poor are not able, especially since, as soon as the year and day expire, they presently dispose their pawns, or pretend to do so; we may reasonably conclude that these horse-leeches make cent. per cent. at least of their money in a year and all this by a course tending only to the encouragement of thieves, and ruin of those that are honest, but indigent,

Near of kin to these caterpillars is the unconscionable tally-man, but a little more adventurous, and dealing so much in wood, that it is supposed his deserts may entitle him to die on a leafless tree. He is one that eateth up the poor, to use a sacred phrase, even as bread, and yet under a charitable pretence of serving and accommodating them: for he lets them have ten shillings worth of sorry commodities, or scarce so much, on security given to pay him twenty shillings by twelve-pence a week. Then his wandering Mephistophilus, with the bundle of rattles, whom we may call the devil's rent-gatherer, haunts them more diligently, than a revengeful ghost does a murderer, or a tormenting conscience, a traytor: and, if they happen to fail the first or second week, snaps them or their security, and makes them, forthwith, pay the utmost farthing; alledging, now their former agreement was void. We have nothing to do with those, that deal according to conscience.

There is yet another pack of the charitable vermin, that make it their business to lend money by the week. This crafty extortioner commonly keeps a blind ale-house; .and you must first, besides a world of compliments, spend two or three shillings at several times, before he be at leisure, or money comes in, or that you can persuade him to like your security; at least you get but eighteen shillings, for every twenty shillings; but must give bond (and him twelve-pence for making it) to repay full twenty shillings at two shillings per week: who, in case of fai lure, takes the first advantage to be as kind to you, as the last gentle. man. And so by these subtleties, and continual returns, they likewise make much more than double of their money in a year's time, as by exact calculation may appear.

These are the Nimrods, the private hunters, in this vast forest of chim

nies, that draw the poor into their nets, and pick them to the very bone. But the bandogs, that they make use of, are the bum-bailey and his setting-cur the first, a kind of excrescence of the law, like our nails, made only to scratch and claw; a sort of birdlime, where he lays hold, he hangs; a raven that pecks not out men's eyes, as others do, but all his spite is at their shoulders; and you had better have the night-mare ride you, than this incubus. He is one of Deucalion's by-blows, begotten of a stone, and has taken an oath never to pity widow or orphan. His first business is to bait you for money for his confounded civility; next, to call for drink, as fast as men for buckets of water in a conflagration after which, becoming grave and serious, he advises you, in revenge, to arrest the plaintiff, and offers to do it, with, or without cause; it is all one to him, if he perceive you have money. His follower is an hanger, that he wears by his side; a false dye of the same bale, but not the same cut; for it runs somewhat higher, inflames the reckoning, and so does more mischief. He is a tumbler that drives in the conies; but is yet but a bungler, and knows not how to cut up a man, without tearing, unless by a pattern. This is the hook, that hangs under water to choak the fish, and his officer the quill above, which pops down as soon as ever the bait is swallowed. Though dif fering in degree, they are both much of a complexion, only the teeth of this latter are more sharp, and he more hungry, because he does but snap, and hath not his full half-share of the booty. A main part of his office is to swear and bluster at their trembling prisoners, and cry, 'Confound us, why do we wait? Let us shop him;' whilst the other meekly replies, Jack, be patient, it is a civil gentleman, and I know, will consider us ;' which species of wheedling, in terms of their art, is called sweeten and pinch. The eyes of these wolves are as quick in their head, as a cutpurse's in a throng; and as nimble are they at their busi. ness, as an hangman at an execution. They will court a broken pate to heal it with a plaister of green-wax. and suck more silver out of a wound, than a surgeon. Yet, as these eels are generally bred out of the mud of a bankrupt, so they commonly die with their guts ripped up, or are decently run through the lungs; and, as they lived hated, die unpitied. We speak here of those only that abuse the intentions of the law, and act oppression under the colour of serving common justice.

THE

GRAND DESIGNS OF THE PAPISTS,

IN THE

REIGN OF OUR LATE SOVEREIGN CHARLES THE FIRST,

And now carried on against

His present Majesty, his Government, and the Protestant Religion.

Imprimatur. Guil. Jane, Nov. 2, 1678.

London, printed by Henry Hills, anno 1678. Quarto, containing forty pages.