<B CEFICT3A>
<Q E3 NI FICT PENNY>
<N PENNY MERRIMENTS>
<A X>
<C E3>
<O 1640-1710>
<M X>
<K X>
<D ENGLISH>
<V PROSE>
<T FICTION>
<G X>
<F X>
<W WRITTEN>
<X X>
<Y X>
<H X>
<U X>
<E X>
<J INTERACTIVE>
<I INFORMAL>
<Z NARR IMAG>
<S SAMPLE X>


[^TEXT:  PENNY MERRIMENTS.
SAMUEL PEPYS' PENNY MERRIMENTS.
ED. R. THOMPSON.
LONDON: CONSTABLE AND COMPANY LIMITED, 1976.
PP. 116.1 - 120.9   (SAMPLE 1)
PP. 147.1 - 152.7   (SAMPLE 2)
PP. 267.1 - 272.9   (SAMPLE 3)
PP. 156.1 - 161.14  (SAMPLE 4)^]

<S SAMPLE 1>
<P 116>
[}A PLEASANT DIALOGUE BETWIXT HONEST JOHN AND 
LOVING KATE. THE CONTRIVANCE OF THEIR MARRIAGE AND
WAY HOW TO LIVE. 1685.}]

 ... (^Jo.^) Be not angry my dear, if thou hast not a Smock to  #
thy back
I would have thee, but in knowing what each other hath, we      #
shall
know the better how to improve it, do thou the same by me.
(^Ka.^) Truly I have but ten pounds my father left me, and that
is in my Uncle Hodge's hands.
(^Jo.^) Tis sure I hope.
(^Ka.^) You need not doubt that, for he cannot keep it from me,
and five pound I have gathered since I came to service, besides
my Mistress owes me above half a years wages.
(^Jo.^) O what a happy man shall I be, what a good housewife    #
thou
hast been, thou hast good cloathes too.
(^Ka.^) They will serve.
(^Jo.^) Now Kate I will tell thee what I have, my father gave   #
me
ten pounds when I came from him, and told me as I did improve
that, he would give me more, and with my Masters leave, I have
imployed it in his Mault-house, and have encreased it; besides
my master doth owe me my wages ever since I came to him, he
would not let me have it for fear I should play the ill         #
husband,
and if I please him, I know he will give me something when I
marry, and so will thy Mistriss, will she not?
(^Ka.^) I hope so too.
(^Jo.^) Now for the best advantage, thy stock and mine          #
together,
will amount to something; and when we have concluded our
marriage day, ile try if my Master will let me have a little    #
house
and ground thou knowest hard by William Jacksons, that will
make a great house for us,
(^Ka.^) And a great Rent too, what should we do with such a     #
house,
one Room will serve our turn.
<P 117>
(^Jo.^) Ay to sleep in my dear.
(^Ka.^) But what trade do you intend to drive?
(^Jo.^) Give me leave and ile tell thee, and if thou wilt help  #
me a
little, it will be the better, for two heads are better than    #
one, we
must not take care only for sleeping places, but a place to get
mony in.
(^Ka.^) How, that pleases me well to be getting of Money, for I
love it dearly.
(^Jo.^) I have almost broke my Brains with studying &           #
contriving,
but now I think I have hit ont.
(^Ka.^) Tis long coming out.
(^Jo.^) If my master will let me have the house we will brue    #
good
Ale, and we will have mault of our own, for we'l keep a stock
going in my Master's Mault-house, with his leave, and there is
pasture enough to keep two beasts, and conveniences for hogs
and poultery, so thou mayest have all things about thee, and
keep a maid and live like a Lady.
(^Ka.^) This will be brave indeed John, but what shall we do    #
with
our Ale.
(^Jo.^) Sell it my sweet one; Let me see, there are eight       #
rooms in
the house besides the Cellar, and with a little painting and a  #
few
benches it will be very fine, & a handsome sign to draw in
company.
(^Ka.^) What shall that be.
(^Jo.^) The three fair maids, I think.
(^Ka.^) Not for a hundred pound I would not have such a sign.
(^Jo.^) Why prithee.
(^Ka.^) Why man they'd think surely we kept a bawdy house...

(^Ka.^) What shall be do for Clothes.
(^Jo.^) In troth Kate we will save that money, those that we    #
have
will serve very well.
(^Ka.^) I think so too.
(^Jo.^) Only I will have a hat & a Gold ring for thee.
(^Ka.^) Who shall we bid to our Wedding.
<P 118>
(^Jo.^) All who we can think of, the more the merrier.
(^Ka.^) What Musick shall we have.
(^Jo.^) We will have old Rowly and his company.
(^Ka.^) They will make a roaring noise.
(^Jo.^) And they will sing well too, to please the young        #
people;
why dost laugh, does the thought of it please thee.
(^Ka.^) I laugh to think how the young men will turn the Lasses
about in dancing, and how they will buss them, methinks I see
them already, but good Jack how shall I do to behave my self
at that time amongst so many; I shall be so ashamed I shant
know what to do.
(^Jo.^) Why priethee all people will adore thee that day, and I
shall be woundy proud of thee my Dear to see thee sit as a
Virgin-Bride, and I shall wait upon thee too that same day,
as it is my duty.
(^Ka.^) Is that the fashion.
(^Jo.^) Yes my dear, hast thou never observed it at weddings.
(^Ka.^) I shall observe my own the more, but you must not look
towards me, for then I shall laugh and that will shame me       #
quite.
(^Jo.^) No my dear a smile sometimes will do well they'l think
there's the more love.
(^Ka.^) Must I dance too.
(^Jo.^) Ay pretty one, every body will strive to dance with the
Bride.
(^Ka.^) Ide rather dance with thee John, than with them all.
(^Jo.^) So thou shalt my dear.
(^Ka.^) What Favours shall we give.
(^Jo.^) Red and blew I think.
(^Ka.^) They will look gloriously, but all this while who       #
shall 
lead us to Church.
(^Jo.^) Tom Sims, and Roger Blackwel shall lead thee, and Mary
Tomkins and Bess Ruglas shall lead me.
(^Ka.^) I shant be able to go along the street, the folk will   #
so
look at me.
<P 119>
(^Jo.^) No matter for their looking, 'ile warrant thee who ever
sees thee will wish her self in the same condition, who are not
married already.
(^Ka.^) Will they think you.
(^Jo.^) I faith i'l warrant you.
(^Ka.^) Who shall marry us.
(^Jo.^) M. Timson.
(^Ka.^) Oh dear he will keep such a do to have me speak out     #
that
I shant know what to do with my self.
(^Jo.^) Thou must not be ashamed my dear, for it is an honour   #
to 
be a bride.
(^Ka.^) Who shall be my Father to give me.
(^Jo.^) Thou mayest ask Jack Wheeler, but I know he had rather
had thee himself.
(^Ka.^) Oh fie no, I will not ask him, he will take it for an   #
affront,
I will rather ask old father Bandol for he us'd to call me      #
Daughter,
and he will take it kindly.
(^Jo.^) Do then.
(^Ka.^) Does it not make you ashamed to talk of these things.
(^Jo.^) No I promise thee, I am proud of it, and so art thou I 
believe, but that thou wilt not confess it.
(^Ka.^) I would it were once over.
(^Jo.^) So would I, i'd as live as a groat.
(^Ka.^) Who shall make the Sack Posset.
(^Jo.^) The Bride-maids will take care of that.
(^Ka.^) Good lack they will keep such a do when they come in to
eat it, and taking their leaves of us, and throwing the         #
stocking,
and one thing or other, that I shall wish them all far enough.
(^Jo.^) So shall I but we must lye the longer next morning.
(^Ka.^) But I forgot one thing, who shall dress me.
(^Jo.^) It is a thousand pities but thou shouldst marry, thou
thinkest of every thing so, the Bride-maids my dear will dress
thee.
<P 120>
(^Ka.^) Where shall we lye the next night.
(^Jo.^) In our own house that will be the best, and therefore   #
we
must furnish it before, and lay in some Ale, that we may be     #
able
to invite all the wedding people to drink with us, and then we 
shall have good handsel indeed, and we will also have a good
Gammon of Bacon, and that will make the drink go down merrily.
(^Ka.^) What maid shall we have?
(^Jo.^) We will have a lusty wench, who may be able to do our
work, for fourty shillings the year we may have one...


<S SAMPLE 2>
<P 147>
[}THE SECRET SINNERS:
OR,
A MOST PLEASANT DIALOGUE BETWEEN A QUAKER AND 
HIS MAID, AND HIS WIFE SARAH.}]

Enters the Quaker.
(^Quaker.^) I What a War is there even now, betwixt the Inward  #
and
the Outward Man! Satan, Satan, I say unto thee, avoid, by Yea
and by Nay, I charge thee tempt me not: Oh! how the Outward
Man prevails! and I can hold no longer; nay, the Light within
does say unto me, That Mary is a Sister, and that Gods Lambs
may play, so that they can but keep it secret from the Wicked;
therefore Satan, though I defie thee and all thy Works, yet     #
will
I go in unto Mary as I have said: Mary, why Mary, I say unto
thee Mary.
(^Mary.^) Here, here, thy Hand-man is even here.
(^Quak.^) Are all the Prophane departed as yet from our         #
Habitation?
is there none of the Wicked to observe us?
(^Ma.^) Yea, verily, they are departed, not one of the Children
of Perdition remain with us.
(^Quak.^) But as I have said unto thee, I again say unto thee,
where is thy Dame?
(^Ma.^) Even now departed to hold forth amongst the             #
Congregation
of the Righteous, in the full Assembly of the Righteous.
(^Qua.^) What to the Hill of Sion, that the wicked do           #
prophanely
call the Bull-and-Mouth?
(^Ma.^) Yea, verily; for having on the sudden a strong Impulse  #
by
the operation of the Spirit, she said unto me, Mary, and I      #
answered
I am here; whereupon she answered and said, she was going to
instruct our Friends.
<P 148>
(^Qua.^) Then Mary, I plainly say unto thee, sit thee down, by  #
yea
and nay I must Touze thee, ingeniously I must.
(^Ma.^) I fie, Master, fie; what is't ye do? the Saints ought   #
not to
defile each other, we shall lose our Credit among the           #
Prophaned;
nay, Master, why Master, O fie! wherefore is it you Kiss me so?
O if my Dame should know on't!
(^Qua.^) I say unto thee, fear not, fear not I say, thou art a  #
Sanctified
Sister, and one of the Infallible Congregation; and as for thy
Dame, I say she is departed; therefore Mary, again I say unto
thee, that the Spirit within does move me to refresh thee; I    #
burn,
I fry, and can forbear no longer.
(^Mary.^) Oh! Master, Master, I adjure thee, that thou          #
forbear, nay,
Master, Master, O Master!
(^Qua.^) By yea and by nay, I charge thee to take patiently the
refreshing of a Brother, when the inward Light says yea.
(^Ma.^) O fie! Hast not thee declared among the Brethren, that
it shall not be lawful for a Sister to defile her self?
(^Qua.^) Yea, with the prophaned I hold it is not Lawful, but   #
dost
thou conceive that Saints can play with each other? nay, for I
say unto thee, if thou dost not thou art not a Sanctified       #
Sister:
O the motion of the Spirit, how strongly it rises, nay, I must,
I must, and thou must not at this time say me nay.
(^Ma.^) O fie! take away thy hand, what is't thee dost? I say   #
unto
thee, nay, nay, I say unto thee nay; O let me alone, why dost
thee tempt me to go astray like one of the Wicked?
(^Quak.^) Thou canst not Err, therefore prepare thy Vessel to
receive the motions that approach unto thy Tabernacle.
(^Ma.^) Yea, now thy Wickedness is entred and has put out all   #
the
Light within, nay, now I am left in darkness, and thou mayest
proceed, now I swim in delight, O the happiness of us Saints
above the rest of the Wicked.
(^Q.^) Yea, Mary, thou hast even said, and now this first       #
refreshment
is over, let us wait another motion from the Light within
and till then, if thou shalt think fit, we will sing a Song of  #
Son.
<P 149>
(^Ma.^) Yea, verily, I would gladly bear a part with thee, but  #
that
I fear my Dame being out of breath with holding forth among
the Brethren, should return, and then if she find us on the     #
Bed,
she will verily conceive that we have gone astray, and Erred
from the Light.
(^Quak.^) I say unto thee, fear not, Mary, she knows we cannot
fall, nor will she conceive that a Sanctified Sister and a      #
zealous
Brother, can be wrought upon to act Carnally like the Wicked.
(^M.^) Then if it please thee to begin, thy Hand-maid shall     #
bear a
part, but be sure let it be such pure Language as is used among
our Friends when assembled at Bull-and-Mouth. 
(^Quak.^) Yea, Mary, it shall ...

(^Mary.^) I say unto thee forbear a while, by yea and nay I     #
hear a
noise, and I fear the Wicked are approaching.
(^Qua.^) As thou has said, I hear the same, and do forbear.

Sarah returning from holding forth,
speaks as she Enters.

(^Sarah.^) Why Mary, mary.
(^Mary.^) O Master Master, by and by, nay, 'tis my Dames voice,
whether shall I depart? where shall I run to hide myself from
Sarah? O how I tremble, I quake, I shake, now a fit of the      #
inward
man has seized me, nay, the Light does Whisper in my    and
saith unto me, that I have Wronged my Dame.
(^Quak.^) Yea, thou hast said, it is my Yoak-mates voice; but
fear not, Mary thou has not erred, step, step in there, step    #
in and
I shall declare unto her that thou, according to the Light, art
praying for a Holy Sister, whom one of the Prophaned caused
to go astray.
(^Ma.^) Yea, I shall step, but see, she's even now Administring
unto thee; alas, good Woman, quite out of breath with her loud
instructing our Friends, but I am safe, she cannot see me now.
(^Dame.^) Husband, Husband, I say unto thee, why hast thou
neglected to appear among the Brethren?
<P 150>
(^Qua.^) Sarah, I say unto thee, I have been staid by a         #
dispondancy,
even in the Outward man; O the War that it raises between the
Flesh and the Spirit! hadst thou even beheld what a Grumbling
the Outward man kept when the Light within prevailed against
him, by yea and by nay, thou wouldst have thought me all in a
Feavor, nay, he assaults me yet, O he rises, he rises, O how    #
strong
he prevails! the Light is half departed, and dost thou behold
again how he strugleth to take away the other part, and leave a
Brother in the Dark.
(^Dame.^) Yea verily, I do, and pitty thee; Satan, Satan, I say
unto thee, avoid; O Holy Man, he strives against the            #
temptations
of the Flesh, but where is Mary? O Mary, Mary.
(^Qua.^) Thine Hand-maid is even praying for a Sister that is 
lately gone astray.
(^Dame.^) What, with a Brother?
(^Qua.^) Nay.
(^Dame.^) With the Wicked.
(^Qua.^) Yea verily, thou hast said.
(^Dame.^) O Pious Mary, I say unto thee, come forth and         #
Administer
unto thy Master; O how the number of the Ungodly
increase? come forth I say.
(^Ma.^) Lo, thy Hand-maid is even here.
(^Dame.^) Look, look, I say, nay, again I say unto thee, look,  #
nay,
Administer as a Holy Sister ought unto thy Master, least the
Outward Man prevail against the Light, whilst I even go the
Congregation of the Brethren, and exhort them, nay, all our
friends, to pray for a falling Brother, that Satan may not      #
buffet
him.
(^M.^) Yea, yea, I shall administer according as thou hast      #
said.
(^Qua.^) O good Wife make haste, the Flesh grows stronger, I    #
say
unto thee again, make haste, nay, run, run unto the Brethren.
(^Dame.^) Yea, yea, I shall.
(She goes out.)
(^Qua.^) Now Mary I plainly say, thy Dame is again departed.
(^M.^) Yes, verily, thy Hand-maid doth see, and how easily good
Woman, she is deceiv'd by the working of the Inward man; nay,
Master, Master, 'tis enough, I dare not wrong my Dame too
much, reserve some refreshment for our Sister Sarah.
<P 151>
(^Qua.^) By yea and nay, I say unto thee Mary, by reason she    #
hath
kept all her Light within, and held none forth till now of      #
late,
it has dryed her up, nay, burnt her to a Charcole; and again I  #
say
unto thee, she is stricken in years, and regardeth not the      #
Flesh,
therefore Mary, I say I must, nay, I will, and if thou deniest  #
the
refreshing of a Brother, thou are not worthy to be called a     #
Sister.
(^M.^) Nay, I even see thou are resolved and I shall not at     #
this
time resist thy good motion, nay, thou mayest do if it shall so
please thee.
(^Qua.^) Yea, I shall.
(^Ma.^) But by yea and nay, if thine Hand-maid prove with       #
Child,
what must be done with the sanctified Babe?
(^Qua.^) I answer thee, I shall send it to some of our Friends  #
at
Clapham, there to be instructed by a Holy Sister, so that the
prophaned shall not be able to reproach our Congregation with
the same.
(^Ma.^) Then I plainly answer thee again, and say, that thine
Hand-maid shall as often as the Spirit moves, so that Sarah nor
none of the Wicked observe, prepare her Vessel to receive thy
refreshments: but now Sarah is returned from the Brethren, I
hear her voice and must be gone, or she will observe my rumpled
Handkerchief.
(^Qua.^) Yea, thou sayest well, but lay it by and here is       #
another,
depart not, I say depart not.
(^Dame.^) O Husband, Husband, pray how is it; is the Outward
man yet quiet? O had you heard the Brethren groan, and Holy
Sisters weep, when I speak, and said that you were fallen from
the Light.
(^Qua.^) Yea, verily they have prevailed, Satan is departed for
this time, and thou mayest thank thy Hand-maid too, for she,
like a pious Sister, has been very diligent since thy           #
departure.
(^Dame.^) Yea, I say unto thee, I shall thank her, O Mary, I    #
shall
ever commend thee for a sanctified Sister among our friends,
and not let all our mourning be turned into joy, yea, we will
sing a Hymn for joy the inward Man has wrastled and prevailed.
(^Qua.^) Yea, yea, Sarah; if thou wilt begin, I and thy Maid    #
will
bear our parts, in spight of all the Wicked ... 
<P 152>
(^Dame.^) Now let us part, and rejoyce with our Friends for the
Mastery, that the inward Light has obtained over the Carnal,
and that thou art not fallen like one of the Wicked.
(^Qua.^) Yea verily, as thou hast said, so it shall even come   #
to
pass; Come Mary, we will depart unto the Congregation of those
Saints that be of our Notions.
(^Ma.^) Yea, yea, let it even be so ...


<S SAMPLE 3>
<P 267>
[}TOM THE TAYLOR. 1684.}]
[}A MERRY DIALOGUE BETWEEN
TOM THE TAYLOR, AND HIS MAID JOAN.}]

(^Tom.^) Hark ye Joan, what a Clock is it? is not dinner ready  #
yet,
methinks I begin to be hungry?
(^Joan.^) Marry come up, be you hungry already? it is not yet
eleven a Clock, and instead of one half-penny Loaf, you have
eaten two; and instead of one pint of Ale, you have had a       #
quart,
and all this you have had to day already, I think the Devil is  #
in
your Guts, that I do.
(^Tom.^) Why how now Huswife, do you snap at me? do you
grudge me my Victuals? Pray Madam Joan, what is it to you how
much I eat and drink, do I not provide it? be it known to you
Joan, that your Mistris when she was living, would not have     #
said
so much to me poor Soul.
(^Joan.^) No truly Master, no more would not I if I was your    #
Wife,
but as I am your Maid, I am not bound to you, and therefore I
take the greater priviledge, but if you'd Marry me, I know      #
what 
I know.
(^Tom.^) Why, what do you know Joan? suppose I should Marry
thee:
(^Ione.^) Indeed Sir, I'de be the lovingest Wife that ever was
made of flesh and blood, i'le be so kind.
(^Tom.^) How kind wouldst thou be?
(^Ione.^) Ah master, so kind as my mistris us'd to be to you,   #
if not
kinder, you may remember Sir that in her days I us'e to lye in
the Truckle bed; O then master.
(^Tom.^) Why what then Jone.
(^Ione.^) Oh dear master, ask me no more questions, I dare talk
no more of those things, methinks I find strange alterations in
me already, strange motions, strange qualms, O how could I
<P 268>
stretch my self, but (alas) to what purpose poor Maid that I    #
am?
(^Tom.^) Well Jone, upon good terms, and upon good              #
considerations,
and upon divers causes moving me thereunto, I say Jone
I could find in my heart to make thee Mistriss of my household,
and Lady of my family, all which you know Ione is honour in
abundance, but first I say you must subscribe and consent to my
divers causes and considerations.
(^Ione.^) Pray master, what be those causes & considerations,   #
i'le
do any thing rather then lose my longing.
(^Tom.^) Why then in brief these they are. First, you shall     #
kiss my
hand and swear that you will acknowledge me to be your Lord
and Master.
(^Ione.^) I will Sir.
(^Tom.^) Secondly, when I come home drunk a nights, you shall   #
be
diligent to make me unready and get me to bed, and if I chance
to befoul my self, you are to make me clean without chiding me.
(^Ione.^) Why must I not keep a maid to do these things for me?
(^Tom.^) Yes, you must keep a Maid, but it is not fit she       #
should
know of her Masters privicies. I say you must do these things
your self.
(^Ione.^) Well if it must be so, it must.
(^Tom.^) Thirdly, if any Gentle Woman comes to have me take
measure of her, you must forthwith go out of the Room, and
leave us together and not be jealous.
(^Ione.^) All this I will observe.
(^Tom.^) Fourthly you must not let any man kiss you but your
Husband, but if any should offer any such thing to you, you     #
must
be sure to let me know what they say or do to you.
(^Ione.^) You shall be sure to know all Sir.
(^Tom.^) Fiftly and lastly, you must Promise not to spend nor 
waste your husbands Money nor Goods, and observe alwaies in
Cow-cumber-time, to put less meat in the Pot than at other      #
times,
because you know that then we have always a Bad Trade: And
one thing I had almost forgot, which is, that you shall be sure
<P 269>
every day once or twice in the day to muster the Flees and 
the Lice that have taken possession in our Bedding and wearing
Apparel: I say once again (and be sure you remember this last
Article of our agreement) you must destroy, kill, and slay them
all, if possible.
(^Ioan.^) If possible (as you say Master) I will, but i fear    #
they have
inhabited and dwelt with you so long, that now they will be
sturdy and begin to plead custome, but hoever I'le do my 
honest endeavour.
(^Tom.^) Well, do you consent to all these things, and will     #
you be
sure hereafter to observe and keep them all?
(^Ioan.^) I will Sir upon this condition, that you will grant   #
me two
things that I shall ask you.
(^Tom.^) Ay, ay, Joan, any thing I say, any thing, prithee      #
speak
quickly, for I begin to be in haste now.
(^Ioan.^) Thus it is then, First you shall give me leave to     #
chuse
what Maid-servant I please, and secondly, because you shall not
be jealous after marriage, I must let you know that I have a    #
young
man that is kin to me, he is my Cozen; this young man I say,    #
will
often come to see me, you shall not be jealous of him will ye?
(^Tom.^) No, no, Wench, God forbid that I should be against thy
Relations comming to see thee. No, no, I say, he shall be       #
welcome;
is this all you have to say Girl, prithee let's make an end of  #
this
Discourse, for I begin to be a little in haste.
(^Ioan.^) And so methinks am I, for I care not how soon I am
married, and afterward how soon I go to bed, nor afterward how
soon you.
(^Tom.^) Well, well honest Jone, I know thy meaning, come give
me thy hand, let us to Church and be married with speed but now
I think on't, what Church shall we go to Ione?
(^Jone.^) Why I think that Mr. Cornue had best to marry us,     #
for I
am well acquainted with him.
(^Tom.^) With all my heart, come on Girl.
<P 270>
[^VERSE OMITTED^]
(^Tom.^) Oh sad, how Drunk was I last night, I could hang my
self for being such a sot; especially the very first night      #
after I
was Married, and not to go to bed to my bride: well I must
make her amends to night for this great fault, in the mean time
i'le go and kiss her a little, perhaps that may stop her mouth
for the present. Why wife, why Jone, why wife Jone, Jone, I     #
say,
where art thou?
(^Nan.^) Who's that bawls and makes such a noise to disturb my 
Mistris this morning so early, poor woman, she has had very
little sleep this night.
(^Tom.^) What impudent Jades this that says I bawl in my own
house, Hussy who are you that speaks to me thus?
(^Nan.^) Why Sir, I am a Servant to the Gentlewoman of this
house.
(^Tom.^) Be you so, and pray how long have you been her         #
servant?
(^Nan.^) Ever since last night.
<P 271>
(^Tom.^) Have you so, then pray acknowledge me to be your
Master: where is your Mistris?
(^Nan.^) Where is she? why she is a bed, and just gone to       #
sleep,
if you be her Husband, you have almost broke her heart in not
comming to bed to her last night, especially being her          #
Wedding-night,
poor soul, she is like to have much good of you, is she
not do you think?
(^Tom.^) Prithee good Wench hold thy tongue, and do not thou
scold at me too, for I must expect a Lesson from her, and a
thundring one, for in faith I deserve it: good Nan go up to     #
her,
and acquaint her that I am awake, and would very fain come up
to her, and be reconciled to her again.
(^Nan.^) Well, stay you here, and I will go up stairs, and see  #
what
I can do with her, I'le do my best.
(^Ione.^) Who is that you are talking to below Nan, that there  #
was
such a noise among you?
(^Nan.^) Who do you think it was? why it was my Master, he says
he will come up to you and beg his pardon for being so drunk
last night therefore pray let the Parson make haste away out of
Bed if you love your own quiet.
(^Ione.^) Yes, yes, Nan, I'le send him away presently, in the   #
mean
time till he makes ready, prithee go down and keep thy master
in discourse.
(^Nan.^) Well forsooth, I go, but pray make haste.
(^Tom.^) Well wench, what says thy Mistris? is she willing to
forgive me my fault, and to let me go up Stairs to her.
(^Nan.^) You may presently, but not yet, for she is not awake,  #
and
being disturb'd, will be more froward.
[^VERSE OMITTED^]
(^Tom.^) Nay pray wife be not angry, i'le swear to thee wife    #
that
i'le make thee amends tonight.
(^Ione.^) You shall be hang'd first, but if ever you expect     #
that I
shall be friends with you, there must be two things granted.
<P 272>
(^Tom.^) Any thing good wife, good wife I say any thing.
(^Ione.^) Why then thus it is; you shall give me leave to make  #
void
all those promises I made you before marriage, and next that 
you shall not lye with me, nor desire to lye with me at any     #
time
but when I please.
(^Tom.^) This is something a hard Chapter I confess, but rather
then loose my wifes favour I will grant it, I will do any thing
to make her amends. I hope thou wilt not make me a Cuckold,
sweetheart, wilt thou?... 


<S SAMPLE 4>

<Q E3 NI FICT PENNY>
<N PENNY MERRIMENTS>
<A X>
<C E3>
<O 1640-1710>
<M X>
<K X>
<D ENGLISH>
<V PROSE>
<T FICTION>
<G X>
<F X>
<W WRITTEN>
<X X>
<Y X>
<H X>
<U X>
<E X>
<J X>
<I INFORMAL>
<Z NARR IMAG>

<P 156>
[} [\V. JOKES AND JESTS.\] }]

[} [\CANTERBURY TALES. BY CHAUCER JUNIOR. 1687.\] }]

[}THE DEDICATION TO THE BAKERS, SMITHS, MILLERS, AND OTHER      #
READERS.}]
 
   You are presented here with a Choice Banquet of delightful
Tales, pleasant Stories, witty Jests, and merry Songs to divert
the young Men and Maids when they come to the Bake-house,
Forge or Mill; and by these you may encrease your Trade and
call Customers to you: for be sure the merry Lasses will go     #
where
they can be furnished with Tales, Stories and Jests; therefore  #
these
are as necessary for you as a fair Wife for a fine Tavern, a    #
young
Hostess for an old Inn, or a Gazet for a Coffee-House. It is    #
fitted
for all manner of Persons, therefore I hope you will all        #
furnish
your selves with it; for it will be a rare Companion for Old    #
and
Young upon many Occasions; especially at Christmas, Easter,
VVhitsontide, or long Winter Evenings over a Cup of             #
Nutbrown-Ale
and Lambs-wool. In a word, you will find it as
comfortable as Matrimony, or as sweet as a Maiden-head at
midnight, or a Sack-Posset at the latter end of a Fire, what
would you have more, the young Men and Maids may laugh till
their Lungs ake, and the old and melancholy, will find Dr.
Merryman the best Physitian. Farewel.

[} [\(2)\] }]

   An unlucky Boy in Canterbury, got a great many a Rams-horns
together in a Basket, went up and down the streets in           #
VVintertime;
<P 157>
crying, here's choice of new Fruit. At length, an ancient
Gentleman, that was Husband to a Beautiful young VVife,
ask'd to see them, which as soon as he had, he replyed, you     #
fool,
do you think I want Horns? no says the Boy, tho' you are        #
provided
yet I may meet with some body that is not: at which several
Spectators laught heartily.

[} [\(4)\] }]

   A Young Man and Maid living in Kent, being in Love together,
but Marriage deferr'd by their Friends, by reason of the        #
inequality
in the Maidens Portion: they resolved to steal some
private embraces, contrary to their Parents knowledge. And it
fell out, they met together at Canterbury, that being a place   #
pretty
far from home, and not much acquainted. There they took
Lodgings at a certain Inn: but the Man having some small
business in the City, fell into Company, and night approaching,
the young Maid waiting with patience, and no Lover came, ten a
clock strikes, up stairs she goes, admiring to the House, that
her pretended Husband did not come; desiring to have a little
Sack Posset, thinking he might eat some after his Journey. That
was made, brought up, and set on the Cupboards head with a
Candle lighted, she being tyred, goes to Bed and there waits    #
the
happy hour, of her Lovers coming: Now you must understand,
there comes a Bearheard, that had been newly landed in the
Downs, with three lusty Bears; which being late was plac'd in a
Stable-Room, just under the floor where the Lovers was to enjoy
themselves: but one of the Bears winding the Sack Posset;
begins to roar, when scratching the wall and finding it yield,
made a large hole just in the stair-case, gets through and up   #
stairs
he comes into the Chamber, where the Maid was then fallen
asleep; the Bear mounting his two fore-feet on the Cubbord, to
get to the Sack-Posset his claws hung so in the Cubbord-cloath
that he pulls down the Sack Posset, Candle and all, upon him
<P 158>
which noise awakened the young Maid, who thinking her Lover
was come, started up on a sudden, but seeing a hairy thing all  #
on
fire as the Bear was, by the Candles falling upon him: she hid  #
her
self under the Bed-cloaths, the Bear by rouling about, at       #
length
put out the fire on his back, and falls to licking up the       #
Posset;
which at length, so intoxicated his Brain, that being disposed  #
to
sleep, he leaps on the bed, and their lyes; the fright          #
whereof, 
caused our young VVoman to let fly behind. In the interim comes
in her Lover, who ascending the stairs, half fluster'd, falls   #
on the
Bed, hugging the Bear instead of his sweetheart; and begging    #
her
Pardon for his long stay: but he scented such a smell of bak'd,
boyl'd, stew'd and Roasted, that he knew not what to think of   #
it;
calling out, my Dear, my Dear, why doest not speak? when in
the midst of all this Freak, the Bearheard miss'd his Bear, and
looking for him, found the hole, where he had made his escape;
comes up stairs with a lighted Torch, and three or four         #
belonging
to the Inn, discovered the whole intrigue, to the no small      #
shame
of the two Amoretta's.

[} [\(5)\] }]

   At a Coffee-house in Canterbury, several Gentlemen were      #
together;
one was asking what news they heard from London, why
reply'd, another; there was forty thousand Men rose yesterday
morning, which made them all to wonder, and ask if he knew
for what, yes sayd he, only to goe to Bed when night came:      #
which
occasion'd a great laughter.

[} [\(6)\] }]

   In Canterbury, there was a Carpenter that had married a      #
handsome
young wife; and he had a Gentleman that had boarded with him,
that pretended to study Astrology; but no otherwise than to     #
gull
the Husband and lye with his VVife, who had promised him
that favour, if he could beguile the Carpenter. Now this        #
Gentleman
had a Rival, that had a months mind to have a lick at her
<P 159>
Honey-pot, but she hated him and loved her Boarder. It happened
that the Carpenter miss'd his Boarder upon a time, and          #
searching
about, found him in a Cock-loft, looking up toward the Skie:
what's the matter, quoth he? Oh says the Gentleman, I find by
Astrology that on Monday next at quarter-night, there will fall
such a Prodigious Rain that Noah's Flood was not half so great;
therefore get quickly three Bucking-Tubs that we may get into
them, and tye them to the top of the Garret, that we may save
our Lives: the Carpenter quak'd for fear, got three Tubs, and
at night, he and his wife and the boarder, climb a Ladder and
severally get in. After much sighing, the Carpenter falls       #
asleep,
and the Gentleman and the Landlady, merrily marches to their
intended business: but while they were at it, the Rival knocks  #
at
the door and entreats her to grant him a Kiss; now, said she to
the Boarder, you shall laugh your fill: my Dearest quoth she,
come close to the window, and I will be with you immediately:
the Rival wipes his mouth to receive the kiss. At length, she
opens the VVindow, and desires what he does to do quickly:
now the night was very dark, and she felt about till she found
him, and to tell the Tale neither better nor worse; he very
savourly kiss'd her bare Arse. The Rival cruelly vext; got a    #
red
hot iron, and comes again, tell her he had brought her a Ring,
provided she would give him another kiss; and the Boarder
thinking to encrease the sport, places his Arse out at the same
window; which his Rival did singe and burn, that he cried out,
water, water, water; at which, the poor Carpenter thinking that
Noah's Flood was come, starts on a sudden, out of the           #
Bucking-Tub,
fell upon the floor, broke his noddle, bepiss'd his Breeches;
and at length discovers all the intreague.

[} [\(7)\] }]

   A VVoman sitting with Fish in Canterbury Market, would       #
always
have a saying to Men when they came to buy any thing: As a
<P 160>
Man was cheapning her Fish, says she to him, as you intend to
have some of my Fish in your Belly, so I would fain have some
of your Flesh in my Belly; no says he, I can't spare my Flesh   #
to
such an ugly Puss as you: No, No, reply'd she, I did not mean
as you mean, I mean your nose in my Arse.

[} [\(11)\] }]

   A beautiful young Gentlewoman of Canterbury, being wedded
to an old Man in respect of his Riches, he being as full of     #
Ice,
as she of Fire, had a mind to try the difference between young
and old Flesh, shewed some Kindness more than ordinary to her
Serving-man; which he perceiving, lays hold of all              #
Opportunities
to address himself to her by way of Love; but she would not
yield to his Desire, unless he would contrive some way to
cornute her Husband in his presence and he not to believe it,
this caused the Serving-man to stretch his Invention upon the
Rack, who at last acquainted his Mistress that he had found an
Experiment to do it, provided she would when her Husband and
she was a walking in the Garden, pretend to Long for some
Fruit on some of the highest Trees, and to leave to him the
management of the rest, which accordingly she did: The old
Man calling his Man to ascend the Tree to gather the Fruit;
which, as soon as he had got up, cryed out with a loud Voice,
Master, Master, leave off for shame, I never in all my life     #
see so
unseemly an Action, for shame disengage your self from my
Mistress, or else some of the Neighbours will see you: the old
Man amazed at this Language, asked if the Fellow was mad, and
what he meant? O Sir, said the Man, the Tree is either          #
bewitched,
or else I cannot believe mine own Eyes; for I fancy I see you
upon my Mistress. Come down, come down, and let me get up
the Tree to know if, it seems so to me; the Fellow comes down
and the old Man gets up: in the Interim, the young Fellow fell  #
to
work with his Mistress, the old Man looks down and sees it,
<P 161>
cries out, in good Faith says he, it seems to me just as it     #
did to
you, for methinks I see you upon your Mistress as perfectly as  #
if
it was really so: the old Man gets down and thinks the Tree
bewitched; orders presently to be cut down, for fear it should
infect the rest. Thus was the old Man made a Cuckold to his
own Face and would not believe it.

[} [\15.\] }]

   A married Gentleman coming through Canterbury, his Horse
threw him, which a young Gentlewoman seeing, fell a laughing;
the Man being terribly vext that she should laugh at his fall,
angerly said, Madam, pray admire not at this, for my Horse      #
always
stumbles when he meets a Whore; she sharply reply'd, have a
care then Sir, you do not meet you Wife, for then you will
certainly break your neck.



