Part 3

This fellow, and his half-brother, being found with the deed, were sent to Iayle: their other two consorts had the charity of the towne, and after a dance of Trenchmore{6:18} at the whipping crosse, they were sent backe to London, where I am afraide there are too many of their occupation. To bee short, I thought myselfe well rid of foure such followers, and I wish hartily that the whole world were cleer of such companions{6:22}.

Hauing rested well at Burntwood, the Moone shining clearely, and the weather being calme, in the euening I tript it to Ingerstone, stealing away from those numbers of people that followed mee; yet doe I what I could, I had aboue fiftie in the company, some of London, the other of the Country thereabout, that would needs, when they heard my Taber, trudge after me through thicke and thin.

The third dayes iourney, being Friday of the first weeke.

On Friday morning I set forward towardes Chelmsford, not hauing past two hundred, being the least company that I had in the day-time betweene London and that place. Onward I went, thus easily followed, till I come to Witford-bridge, where a number of country people, and many Gentlemen and Gentlewomen were gathered together to see mee. Sir Thomas Mildmay, standing at his Parke pale{7:7}, receiued gently a payre of garters of me; gloues, points{7:9}, and garters, being my ordinary marchandize, that I put out to venter for performance of my merry voyage{7:9}.

So much a doe I had to passe by the people at Chelmsford, that it was more than an houre ere I could recouer my Inne gate, where I was faine to locke my selfe in my Chamber, and pacifie them with wordes out of a window insteed of deeds: to deale plainely, I was so weary, that I could dance no more.

The next morning I footed it three myle of my way toward Braintree, but returned backe againe to Chelmsford, where I lay that Satterday and the next Sunday. The good cheere and kinde welcome I had at Chelmsford was much more than I was willing to entertaine; for my onely desire was to refraine drinke and be temperate in my dyet.

At Chelmsford, a Mayde not passing foureteene yeares of age, dwelling with one Sudley, my kinde friend, made request to her Master and Dame that she might daunce the Morrice with me in a great large roome. They being intreated, I was soone wonne to fit her with bels{7:26}; besides she would haue the olde fashion, with napking on her armes{7:26}; and to our iumps we fell. A whole houre she held out; but then being ready to lye downe I left her off; but thus much in her praise, I would haue challenged the strongest man in Chelmsford, and amongst many I thinke few would haue done so much.

The fourth dayes iourney, beeing Munday of the second weeke.

On Munday morning, very early, I rid the 3 myles that I daunst the satterday before; where alighting, my Taberer strucke up, and lightly I tript forward; but I had the heauiest way that euer mad Morrice-dancer trod; yet,

With hey and ho, through thicke and thin, The hobby horse quite forgotten{8:8}, I follow'd, as I did begin, Although the way were rotten.

This foule way I could finde no ease in, thicke woods being on eyther side the lane; the lane likewise being full of deep holes, sometimes I skipt vp to the waste; but it is an old Prouerb, that it is a little comfort to the miserable to haue companions, and amidst this miry way I had some mirth by an vnlookt for accident.

It was the custome of honest Country fellows, my vnknowne friends, upon hearing of my Pype (which might well be heard in a still morning or euening a myle), to get vp and beare mee company a little way. In this foule way two pretty plaine youthes watcht me, and with their kindnes somewhat hindred me. One, a fine light fellow, would be still before me, the other euer at my heeles. At length, comming to a broad plash{8:23} of water and mud, which could not be auoyded, I fetcht a rise, yet fell in ouer the anckles at the further end. My youth that follow'd me tooke his iump, and stuck fast in the midst, crying out to his companion, "Come, George, call yee this dauncing? Ile goe no further," for, indeede hee could goe no further, till his fellow was faine to wade and help him out. I could not chuse but lough to see howe like two frogges they laboured: a hartye farwell I gaue them, and they faintly bad God speed me, saying if I daunst that durtie way this seauen yeares againe, they would neuer daunce after me.

Well, with much a doo I got unto Braintree by noone, tarried there Munday night and the next day; onely I daunst three miles on Tewsday, to ease my Wednesdaies iourney.

If I should deny that I was welcome at Braintree, I should slander an honest crew of kind men, among whome I far'd well, slept well, and was euery way well usde.

The fift dayes iourney, being Wednesday of the second weeke.

Taking aduantage of my 3 miles that I had daunst y^e day before, this wednesday morning I tript it to Sudbury; whether came to see a very kinde Gentleman, Master Foskew, that had before trauailed a foote from London to Barwick, who, giuing me good counsaile to obserue temperate dyet for my health, and other aduise to bee carefull of my company, besides his liberall entertainment, departed, leauing me much indebted to his loue.

In this towne of Sudbury there came a lusty, tall fellow, a butcher by his profession, that would in a Morrice keepe mee company to Bury: I being glad of his friendly offer, gaue him thankes, and forward wee did set; but ere euer wee had measur'd halfe a mile of our way, he gaue me ouer in the plain field, protesting, that if he might get a 100 pound, he would not hold out with me; for indeed my pace in dauncing is not ordinary.

As he and I were parting, a lusty Country lasse being among the people, cal'd him faint hearted lout, saying, "If I had begun to daunce, I would haue held out one myle though it had cost my life." At which wordes many laughed. "Nay," saith she, "if the Dauncer will lend me a leash of his belles, Ile venter to treade one mile with him my selfe." I lookt vpon her, saw mirth in her eies, heard boldnes in her words, and beheld her ready to tucke vp her russet petticoate; I fitted her with bels, which [s]he merrily taking, garnisht her thicke short legs, and with a smooth brow bad the Tabrer begin. The Drum strucke; forward marcht I with my merry Maydemarian, who shooke her fat sides, and footed it merrily to Melfoord, being a long myle. There parting with her, I gaue her (besides her skinfull of drinke) an English crowne to buy more drinke; for, good wench, she was in a pittious heate: my kindnes she requited with dropping some dozen of short courtsies, and bidding God blesse the Dauncer. I bad her adieu; and to giue her her due, she had a good eare, daunst truely, and wee parted friendly. But ere I part with her, a good fellow, my friend, hauin writ an odde Rime of her, I will make bolde to set it downe.

A Country Lasse, browne as a berry, Blith of blee{10:15}, in heart as merry, Cheekes well fed, and sides well larded, Euery bone with fat flesh guarded, Meeting merry Kemp by chaunce, Was Marrian in his Morrice daunce. Her stump legs with bels were garnisht, Her browne browes with sweating varnish[t]; Her browne hips, when she was lag To win her ground, went swig a swag; Which to see all that came after Were repleate with mirthfull laughter. Yet she thumpt it on her way With a sportly hey de gay{10:27}: At a mile her daunce she ended, Kindly paide and well commended.

At Melford diuers Gentlemen met mee, who brought me to one Master Colts, a very kinde and worshipfull Gentleman, where I had vnexpected entertainment till the Satterday. From whose house, hauing hope somewhat to amend my way to Bury, I determined to goe by Clare, but I found it to be both farther and fouler.

The sixt dayes iourney, being Satterday of the second weeke.

From Wednesday night til Satterday hauing bin very troublesome but much more welcome to master Colts, in the morning I tooke my leaue, and was accompanied with many Gentlemen a myle of my way. Which myle master Colts his foole would needs daunce with me, and had his desire, where leauing me, two fooles parted faire in a foule way; I keeping on my course to Clare, where I a while rested, and then cheerefully set forward to Bury.

Passing from Clare towards Bury, I was inuited to the house of a very bountifull widdow, whose husband during his life was a Yeoman of that Countrie; dying rich no doubt, as might well appeare, by the riches and plentie that abounded in euery corner of the house. She is called the widdow Eueret.

At her house were met aboue thirty Gentlemen. Such, and so plentifull variety of good fare I haue very sildome seene in any Commoners house. Her behauiour being very modest and freendly, argued her bringing vp not to be rude. She was a woman of good presence, and, if a foole may iudge, of no smal discretion.

From this widdowes I daunst to Bury, comming in on the Satterday in the afternoone, at what time the right Honorable the Lord Chiefe Justice{11:25} entred at an other gate of the towne. The wondring and regardles multitude making his honor cleere way, left the streetes where he past to gape at me; the throng of them being so great that poore Will Kemp was seauen times stayed ere hee could recouer his Inne. By reason of the great snow that then fell, I stayd at Bury from Satterday in the second week of my setting foorth til Thursday night the next weeke following.

The seauenth dayes iourney, being Friday of the third weeke.

Vpon Fryday morning I set on towardes Thetford, dauncing that tenne mile in three houres; for I left Bury somewhat after seauen in the morning, and was at Thetford somewhat after ten that same forenoone. But, indeed, considering how I had been booted the other iourneys before, and that all this way, or the most of it, was ouer a heath, it was no great wonder; for I far'd like one that had escaped the stockes, and tride the vse of his legs to out-run the Constable: so light was my heeles, that I counted the ten mile no better than a leape.

At my entrance into Thetford the people came in great numbers to see mee; for there were many there, being Size time. The noble Gentleman, Sir Edwin Rich{12:13}, gaue me entertainment in such bountifull and liberal sort, during my continuance there Satterday and Sunday, that I want fitte words to expresse the least part of his worthy vsage of my vnworthines; and to conclude liberally as hee had begun and continued, at my departure on Munday his worship gaue me fiue pound.

The eyght dayes iourney, being Munday of the fourth weeke.

On Munday morning I daunst to Rockland ere I rested, and comming to my Inne, where the Hoast was a very boone companion, I desired to see him; but in no case he would be spoken with till he had shifted himselfe from his working dayes sute. Being armed at all poyntes, from the cap to the codpeece, his blacke shooes shining and made straght with copper buckles of the best, his garters in the fashion, and euery garment fitting Corremsquandam (to use his owne word), hee enters the Hall, with his bonnet in his hand, began to crye out:

"O Kemp, deere Master Kemp! you are euen as welcome as--as--as--," and so stammering he began to study for a fit comparison, and, I thanke him, at last he fitted me; for saith he, "thou art euen as welcome as the Queenes best grey-hound." After this dogged yet well-meaning salutation, the Carrowses were called in; and my friendly Hoast of Rockland began withall this, blessing{13:5} the houre vppon his knees, that any of the Queenes Maiesties well-willers or friends would vouchsafe to come within his house; as if neuer any such had been within his doores before.

I tooke his good meaning, and gaue him great thankes for his kindenesse; and hauing rested mee well, began to take my course for Hingham, whether my honest Hoast of Rockland would needs be my guide: but, good true fat-belly, he had not followed mee two fieldes, but he lyes all along, and cryes after me to come backe and speake with him. I fulfild his request: and comming to him, "Dauncer," quoth hee, "if thou daunce a Gods name, God speede thee! I cannot follow thee a foote farther; but adieu, good dauncer; God speed thee, if thou daunce a Gods name!"

I, hauing haste of my way, and he being able to keep no way, there wee parted. Farewell he: he was a kinde good fellow, a true Troyan; and if euer be my lucke to meete him at more leasure, Ile make him full amendes with a Cup full of Canarie. But nowe I am a little better aduis'd, wee must not thus let my madde Hoast passe; for my friend, late mentioned before, that made the odde rime on my Maide-marian, would needes remember my Hoast. Such as it is, He bluntly set downe.

He was a man{13:26} not ouer spare; In his eyebals dwelt no care. "Anon, anon," and "Welcome{13:28}, friend," Were the most words he vsde to spend, Saue sometime he would sit and tell What wonders once in Bullayne fell{13:31}, Closing each Period of his tale With a full cup of Nut-browne Ale. Turwin and Turneys siedge were hot{14:1}, Yet all my Hoast remembers not: Kets field{14:3} and Muscleborough{14:3} fray Were battles fought but yesterday. "O, 'twas a goodly matter then To see your sword and buckler men! They would lye heere, and here and there, But I would meete them euery where: And now a man is but a pricke; A boy, arm'd with a poating sticke{14:10}, Will dare to challenge Cutting Dicke{14:11}. O 'tis a world{14:12} the world to see! But twill not mend for thee nor mee." By this some guest cryes "Ho, the house!" A fresh friend hath a fresh carouse: Still he will drinke, and still be dry, And quaffe with euery company. Saint Martin send him merry mates, To enter at his hostree gates! For a blither lad than he Cannot an Inkeeper be.

Well, once againe farewell mine Hoast at Rockland. After all these farewels, I am sure to Hingham I found a foule way, as before I had done from Thetford to Rockland.

Yet, besides the deep way, I was much hindred by the desire people had to see me. For euen as our Shop-keepers will hayle and pull a man with "Lack ye? what do you lack, Gentlemen?"{14:27} "My ware is best," cryes one, "Mine best in England," sayes an other, "Heere shall you haue choyse," saith the third; so was the dyuers voyces of the young men and Maydens, which I should meete at euerie myles ende, thronging by twentie, and sometime fortie, yea, hundreths in a companie; one crying "The fayrest way was thorow their Village," another, "This is the nearest and fayrest way, when you haue past but a myle and a halfe;" an other sort{15:2} crie "Turne on the left hand," some "On the right hand;" that I was so amazed I knewe not sometime which way I might best take; but haphazard, the people still accompanying me, wherewith I was much comforted, though the wayes were badde; but as I said before at last I ouertooke it.

The ninth dayes iourney, being Wednesday of the second weeke.

The next morning I left Hingham, not staying till I came to Barford-bridge, fiue young men running all the way with me, for otherwise my pace was not for footemen.

From Barford bridge I daunst to Norwich; but comming within sight of the Citty, perceiuing so great a multitude and throng of people still crowding more and more about me, mistrusting it would be a let{15:15} to my determined expedition and pleasurable humour, which I long before conceiued to delight this Citty with (so far as my best skill and industry of my long trauelled sinewes could affoord them), I was aduised, and so tooke ease by that aduise, to stay my Morrice a little aboue Saint Giles his gate, where I tooke my gelding, and so rid into the Citty, procrastinating my merry Morrice daunce through the Citty till better opportunitie.

Being come into the Citty, Master Roger Wiler the Maior{15:23}, and sundry other of his worshipfull Brethren, sent for me; who perceiuing howe I intended not to daunce into the Cittye that nyght, and being well satisfied with the reasons, they allotted me time enough not to daunce in till Satterday after; to the end that diuers knights and Gentlemen, together with their wiues and children (who had beene many dayes before deceyued with expectation of my comming), might nowe haue sufficient warning accordingly by satterday following.

In the meane space, and during my still continuaunce in the Cittye afterwardes, they not onely very courteously offered to beare mine owne charges and my followers, but very bountifully performed it at the common charges: the Mayor and many of the Aldermen often times besides inuited vs priuately to theyr seuerall houses.

To make a short end of this tedious description of my entertainment; Satterday no sooner came but I returned without the Citty through Saint Giles his gate, and beganne my Morrice where I left at that gate, but I entred in at Saint Stephens gate, where one Thomas Gilbert in name of all the rest of the Cittizens gaue me a friendly and exceeding kind welcome; which I haue no reason to omit, vnlesse I would condemne my selfe of ingratitude, partlye for the priuate affection of the writer towardes me, as also for the generall loue and fauour I found in them from the highest to the lowest, the richest as the poorest. It followes in these few lynes.

Master Kemp his welcome to Norwich.

W With hart, and hand, among the rest, E Especially you welcome are: L Long looked for as welcome guest, C Come now at last you be from farre. O Of most within the Citty, sure, M Many good wishes you haue had; E Each one did pray you might indure, W With courage good the match you made. I Intend they did with gladsome hearts, L Like your well willers, you to meete: K Know you also they'l doe their parts, E Eyther in field or house to greete M More you then any with you came, P Procur'd thereto with trump and fame. your well-willer, T. G.

Passing the gate, Wifflers{17:1} (such Officers as were appointed by the Mayor) to make me way through the throng of the people which prest so mightily vpon me, with great labour I got thorow that narrow preaze{17:4} into the open market place; where on the crosse, ready prepared, stood the Citty Waytes, which not a little refreshed my wearines with toyling thorow so narrow a lane as the people left me: such Waytes (under Benedicite be it spoken) fewe Citties in our Realme haue the like, none better; who, besides their excellency in wind instruments, their rare cunning on the Vyoll and Violin, theyr voices be admirable, euerie one of them able to serue in any Cathedrall Church in Christendoome for Quiristers.

Passing by the Market place, the presse still increasing by the number of boyes, girles, men and women, thronging more and more before me to see the end; it was the mischaunce of a homely maide, that, belike, was but newly crept into the fashion of long wasted peticotes tyde with points{17:17}, and had, as it seemed, but one point tyed before, and comming vnluckily in my way, as I was fetching a leape, it fell out that I set my foote on her skirts: the point eyther breaking or stretching, off fell her peticoate from her waste, but as chance was, thogh hir smock were course, it was cleanely; yet the poore wench was so ashamed, the rather for that she could hardly recouer her coate againe from vnruly boies, that looking before like one that had the greene sicknesse, now had she her cheekes all coloured with scarlet. I was sorry for her, but on I went towards the Maiors, and deceiued the people by leaping ouer the church-yard wall at S. Johns, getting so into M. Mayors gates a neerer way; but at last I found it the further way about, being forced on the Tewsday following to renew my former daunce, because George Sprat, my ouer-seer, hauing lost me in the throng, would not be deposed that I had daunst it, since he saw me not; and I must confesse I did not wel, for the Cittizens had caused all the turne-pikes to be taken vp on Satterday that I might not bee hindred. But now I returne againe to my Jump, the measure of which is to be seene in the Guild-hall at Norwich,{18:2} where my buskins, that I then wore and daunst in from London thither, stand equally deuided, nailde on the wall. The plenty of good cheere at the Mayors, his bounty and kinde vsage, together with the general welcomes of his worshipful brethren, and many other knights, Ladies, Gentlemen and Gentlewomen, so much exceeded my expectation, as I adiudg'd my selfe most bound to them all. The Maior gaue me fiue pound in Elizabeth angels{18:10}; which Maior (faire Madame, to whom I too presumptuously dedicate my idle paces) is a man{18:11} worthy of a singuler and impartiall admiration, if our criticke humorous mindes could as prodigally conceiue as he deserues, for his chast life, liberality, and temperance in possessing worldly benefits. He liues vnmarried, and childlesse; neuer purrchased house nor land, the house he dwels in this yeere being but hyred: he liues vpon marchandies, being a Marchant venturer. If our marchants and gentlemen wold take example by this man, Gentlemen would not sell their lands to become banckrout Marchants, nor Marchants liue in the possessions of youth-beguiled gentlemen, who cast themselues out of their parents heritages for a few out-cast commodities{18:22}. But, wit, whither wilt thou?{18:22} What hath Morrice tripping Will to do with that? it keeps not time w^t his dance; therefore roome, you morral precepts, giue my legs leaue to end my Morrice, or, that being ended, my hands leaue to perfect this worthlesse poore tottered{18:26} volume.

Pardon me, Madame, that I am thus tedious; I cannot chuse but commend sacred liberality, which makes poore wretches partakers of all comfortable benefits: besides the loue and fauour already repeated, M. Weild the mayor{18:30} gaue me 40.s. yeerely during my life, making me a free man of the marchant venterers. This is the substance of al my iourney; therefore let no man beleeue, how euer before by lying ballets and rumors they haue bin abused, y^t either waies were laid open for me, or that I deliuered gifts to her Maiesty. Its good being merry, my masters, but in a meane, and al my mirths, (meane though they be) haue bin and euer shal be imploi'd to the delight of my royal Mistris; whose sacred name ought not to be remembred among such ribald rimes as these late thin-breecht lying Balletsingers haue proclaimed it.