Elizabethan & Jacobean Pamphlets
CHAPTER IIII
How a Gallant should behaue himselfe in Powles walkes.
BEING weary with sayling vp and downe alongst these shores of _Barbaria_, heere let vs cast our anchors, and nimbly leape to land in our coasts, whose fresh aire shall be so much the more pleasing to vs, if the _Ninny hammer_ (whose perfection we labour to set forth) haue so much foolish wit left him as to choose the place where to sucke in: for that true humorous Gallant that desires to powre himselfe into all fashions (if his ambition be such to excell euen Complement itselfe) must as well practise to diminish his walkes, as to bee various in his sallets, curious in his Tobacco, or ingenious in the trussing vp of a new Scotch-hose: / All which vertues are excellent and able to maintaine him, especially if the old worme-eaten Farmer (his father) bee dead, and left him fiue hundred a yeare, onely to keepe an Irish hobby, an Irish horse-boy, and himselfe (like a gentleman). Hee therefore that would striue to fashion his leggs to his silke stockins, and his proud gate to his broad garters, let him whiffe downe these obseruations; for, if he once get to walke by the booke (and I see no reason but he may, as well as fight by the booke) Powles may be proud of him, _Will Clarke_ shall ring forth _Encomiums_ in his honour, Iohn in Powles _Church-yard_, shall fit his head for an excellent blocke, whilest all the Innes of Court reioyce to behold his most hansome calfe.
Your Mediterranean Ile, is then the onely gallery, wherein the pictures of all your true fashionate and complementall _Guls_ are, and ought to be hung vp: into that gallery carry your neat body, but take heede you pick out such an hour when the maine Shoale of Ilanders are swimming vp and downe. And first obserue your doores of entrance, and your _Exit_, not much vnlike the plaiers at the Theaters, keeping your _Decorums_, euen in phantasticality. As for example: if you proue to be a _Northerne_ Gentleman, I would wish you to passe through the North doore, more often (especially) then any of the other: and so, according to your countries, take note of your entrances.
Now for your venturing into the Walke, be circumspect and wary what piller you come in at, and take heede in any case (as you loue the reputation of your honour) that you auoide the _Seruing-mans_ logg, and approch not within fiue fadom of that Piller; but bend your course directly in the middle line, that the whole body of the Church may appeare to be yours; where, in view of all, you may publish your suit in what manner you affect most, either with the slide of your cloake from the one shoulder, and then you must (as twere in anger) suddenly snatch at the middle of the inside (if it be taffata at the least) and so by that meanes your costly lining is betrayd, or else by the pretty aduantage of Complement. But one note by the way do I especially wooe you to, the neglect of which makes many of our Gallants cheape and ordinary, that by no meanes you be seene aboue foure turnes; but in the fift make your selfe away, either in some of the / Sempsters' shops, the new Tobacco-office, or amongst the Booke-sellers, where, if you cannot reade, exercise your smoake, and inquire who has writ against this diuine weede, &c. For this withdrawing your selfe a little, will much benefite your suit, which else, by too long walking, would be stale to the whole spectators: but howsoeuer if Powles Jacks bee once vp with their elbowes, and quarrelling to strike eleuen, as soone as euer the clock has parted them, and ended the fray with his hammer, let not the Dukes gallery conteyne you any longer, but passe away apace in open view. In which departure, if by chance you either encounter, or aloofe off throw your inquisitiue eye vpon any knight or Squire, being your familiar, salute him not by his name of Sir such a one, or so, but call him _Ned_, or _Jack_, &c. This will set off your estimation with great men: and if (tho there be a dozen companies betweene you, tis the better) hee call aloud to you (for thats most gentile), to know where he shall find you at two a clock, tell him at such an Ordinary, or such, and bee sure to name those that are deerest: and whither none but your Gallants resort. After dinner you may appeare againe, hauing translated yourselfe out of your English cloth cloak, into a light Turky-grogram (if you haue that happinesse of shifting) and then be seene (for a turne or two) to correct your teeth with some quill or siluer instrument, and to cleanse your gummes with a wrought handkercher: It skilles not whether you dinde or no (thats best knowne to your stomach) or in what place you dinde, though it were with cheese (of your owne mother's making) in your chamber or study.
Now if you chance to be a Gallant not much crost among Citizens, that is, a Gallant in the Mercers bookes, exalted for Sattens and veluets, if you be not so much blest to bee crost as I hold it the greatest blessing in the world, to bee great in no mans bookes) your Powles walke is your onely refuge: the Dukes Tomb is a Sanctuary, and will keepe you aliue from wormes and land-rattes, that long to be feeding on your carkas: there you may spend your legs in winter a whole after-noone: conuerse, plot, laugh, and talke any thing, iest at your Creditor, euen to his face, and in the euening, euen by lamp-light, steale out, and so cozen a whole couy of abhominable catch-pols. Neuer / be seene to mount the steppes into the quire, but vpon a high Festiuall day, to preferre the fashion of your doublet, and especially if the singing-boyes seeme to take note of you: for they are able to buzze your praises aboue their _Anthems_, if their voyces haue not lost their maiden-heads: but be sure your siluer spurres dog your heeles, and then the Boyes will swarme about you like so many white butter-flyes, when you in the open Quire shall drawe forth a perfumed embrodred purse (the glorious sight of which will entice many Countrymen from their deuotion to wondering) and quoyt siluer into the Boyes handes, that it may be heard aboue the first lesson, although it be reade in a voyce as big as one of the great Organs.
This noble and notable Act being performed, you are to vanish presently out of the Quire, and to appeare againe in the walk: But in any wise be not obserued to tread there long alone: for feare you be suspected to be a Gallant casheerd from the society of _Captens_ and _Fighters_.
Sucke this humour vp especially. Put off to none, vnlesse his hatband be of a newer fashion then yours, and three degrees quainter: but for him that weares a trebled cipers about his hatte (though he were an Aldermans sonne) neuer moue to him: for hees suspected to be worse then a _Gull_, and not worth the putting off to, that cannot obserue the time of his hatband, nor know what fashioned block is most kin to his head: for, in my opinion, ye braine that cannot choose his Felt well (being the head ornament) must needes powre folly into all the rest of the members, and be an absolute confirmed Foole in _Summâ Totali_.
All the diseased horses in a tedious siege cannot shew so many fashions, as are to be seene for nothing, euery day, in Duke _Humfryes walke_. If therefore you determine to enter into a new suit, warne your Tailor to attend you in Powles, who, with his hat in his hand, shall like a spy discouer the stuffe, colour, and fashion of any doublet, or hose that dare be seene there, and stepping behind a piller to fill his table-bookes with those notes, will presently send you into the world an accomplisht man: by which meanes you shall weare your clothes in print with the first edition. But / if Fortune fauour you so much as to make you no more then a meere country gentleman, or but some three degrees remoud from him (for which I should be very sorie, because your London-experience wil cost you deere before you shall haue ye wit to know what you are) then take this lesson along with you: The first time that you venture into Powles, passe through the body of the Church like a Porter, yet presume not to fetch so much as one whole turne in the middle Ile, no nor to cast an eye to _Si quis_ doore (pasted and plaistered vp with Seruing-mens _supplications_) before you haue paid tribute to the top of Powles _steeple_ with a single penny: And when you are mounted there, take heede how you looke downe into the yard; for the railes are as rotten as your great-Grandfather; and thereupon it will not be amisse if you enquire how _Kit Woodroffe_ durst vault ouer, and what reason he had for it, to put his necke in hazard of reparations. From hence you may descend, to talke about the horse that went vp, and striue, if you can, to know his keeper: take the day of the Moneth, and the number of the steppes, and suffer yourselfe to belieue verily that it was not a horse, but something else in the likenesse of one: which wonders you may publish, when you returne into the country, to the great amazement of all Farmers Daughters, that will almost swound at the report, and neuer recouer till their banes bee asked twice in the Church.
But I haue not left you yet. Before you come downe againe, I would desire you to draw your knife, and graue your name (or, for want of a name, the marke, which you clap on your sheep) in great Characters vpon the leades, by a number of your brethren (both Citizens and country Gentlemen), and so you shall be sure to haue your name lye in a coffin of lead, when yourselfe shall be wrapt in a winding-sheete: and indeed the top of Powles conteins more names then _Stowes_ Chronicle. These lofty tricks being plaid, and you (thanks to your feete) being safely ariued at the staires foote againe, your next worthy worke is, to repaire to my lord _Chancellors Tomb_ (and, if you can but reasonably bestow some time vpon ye reading of Sir _Phillip Sydneyes_ briefe Epitaph; in the compasse of an houre you may make shift to stumble it out. The great dyal is, your last monument: there bestow / some halfe of the threescore minutes, to obserue the sawciness of the Jaikes that are aboue the man in the moone there; the strangenesse of the motion will quit your labour. Besides, you may heere haue fit occasion to discouer your watch, by taking it forth, and setting the wheeles to the time of Powles, which, I assure you, goes truer by fiue notes then S. _Sepulchers_ Chimes. The benefit that wil arise from hence is this, that you publish your charge in maintaining a gilded clocke; and withall the world shall know that you are a time-pleaser. By this I imagine you haue walkt your belly ful, and thereupon being weary, or (which rather I beleeue) being most Gentlemanlike hungry, it is fit that I brought you into the Duke; so (because he followes the fashion of great men, in keeping no house, and that therefore you must go seeke your dinner) suffer me to take you by the hand, and lead you into an Ordinary.