Part 1

_The Globe’s thy Studye; for thy boundless mind In a less limit cannot be confind. Gazing, I here admire: thy very lookes Shew thou art read as well in men, as bookes. He that Shall Scan thy face, may judge by it, Thou hast an Headpeece that is thronged with n’t._ I·F

THE

English Rogue:

DESCRIBED,

IN THE

LIFE

OF

MERITON LATROON,

_A Witty Extravagant_.

Being a Compleat History of the

MOST

Eminent Cheats

OF

BOTH SEXES.

__Read_, but don’t _Practice_: for the Author findes, They which live _Honest_ have most quiet mindes._

Dixero si quid forte jocosius hoc mihi juris Cum & eniâ dalis.

London, Printed for Henry Marsh, at the Princes Arms in Chancery-Lane. 1665.

THE

PREFACE.

_Beloved Country-men_,

Had I not more respect to my Countries good in general, than any private interest of mine own, I should not have introduc’d my _Friend_ upon the common Theatre of the World, to act the part of a _Rogue_ in the Publick view of all. _Rogue!_ did I call him? I should recal that word, since his Actions were attended more with Witty Conceits, then Life-destroying Stratagems. It is confest, the whole bent of his mind tended to little else then _Exorbitancy_; and _Necessity_ frequently compelled him to perpetrate _Villany_: And no wonder, since he lived in the infectious Air of the worst of most _Licentious Times_. But still I blame my self for stigmatizing him with such an _Opprobrious Title_, since in the declination of his days, the consideration of his former _Wicked Courses_ hath wrought (I have so much charity for him to believe it) in him cordial contrition, and unfeigned repentance: and the truth of it is, Man should be regarded not for what he _was_, but what he _is_.

Since his _Reformation_, I have taken very great delight in his Conversation, and never went from him but with great satisfaction in the _Ingenious Relation_ of the transactions of his youthful days: And frequently revolving them in my mind, Reason suggested to me, the _History of his Life_ could not but be as profitable as pleasant, if made _publick_. For herein you may see Vice pourtrayed in her own proper shape, the ugliness whereof (her _Vizard-Mask_ being remov’d) cannot but cause in her (_quondam_) Adorers, a _loathing_ instead of _loving_. Wherefore, with my _Friends_ free consent, and being instigated thereunto by many _persons_ inferiour to few, either for _Birth_, _Education_, or _Natural Parts_, I attempted this _Essay_.

If any be so curious to know what the (_Actors_ you have in the Title) _Authors name is_, let me crave his pardon for his concealment, and answer him with _Plutarch_ to an inquisitive Fellow, _Quum vides velatum, quid inquiris in rem absconditam?_ It was therefore covered, because he should not know what was in it. It is enough that the _Actor_ hath shown himself willing to declare _freely_, and without _mincing_ the _truth_ of what he hath done, without _knowing_ who writ it; if the _Contents_ shall as well _please_ as admonish, no matter what I’m call’d. But if you are so desirous to know what the _Writer_ is, I shall briefly inform your _curiosity_: But I doubt I have _undertaken_ what I _cannot perform_; for if to know a mans self be more then an _Herculean Labour_, then without doubt it is beyond the limits of my power to tell you what I am; neither can _any man_ truly _know another_, unless he first _knows_ himself.

For some few years, the World and I have had a great _falling out_; and though I have used all _probable_ and _possible_ means, we remain yet _unreconcil’d_.

My only comfort is, I have a small treasure in _Minerva’s Tower_, by which I subsist; and by the benefit thereof, can walk abroad, not without taking _Observation_ both from what I _hear_ and _see_; and returning home, _Tam Aulæ vanitatem, quam Fori ambitionem ridere mecum soleo_. I can with _Democritus_ laugh at the _Actions_ of men, extracting _Wisdome_ from their _Follies_, and afterwards _lash_ them with a _Rod_ of _Experience_ made of their own _fond inconsiderateness_.

As for my part, I am onely a _Wise-acre_, (a Retort once put upon _Ben Johnson_), for I have no _Acres of Land_. But therefore don’t be so unadvised, (as too many are of late) to regard not so much the _worth_ of the Work, as the _dignity_ of the Person. _Qui similiter in legendos libros atq; in salutandos homines irruunt, non cogitantes quales, sed quibus vestibus induti sint._ They mind not so much _what_, as _who writ_ it; not the Quality of the _Thing_, but the Quality of the _Author_, and a _Person of Honour_ (now adays) being set in the place of the _Writer_, makes the Book received with a general applause. Pardon as well my Satyrical as Cynical Humour. If any dislike what I have writ, let them let it _alone_, or publish themselves something of a better _Composition_. I shall not value any ones Censure, for I have already _Antidoted_ my self against it, by my own _dis-esteem_ I have hereof. I am so far from being _Opinionative_, that you cannot speak worse then what I judge of it.

_Nasutus sis usq; licet, sis deniq; Nasus, Non potes in nugas dicere plura meas._

_Bark, foul-mouth’d carping _Momus_, if thou durst: What I have writ is Bad; Now do thy worst._

Thus you see, as I will not _arrogate_, so I shall not _derogate_: for as I am so many _Parasanges_ after such a one, yet I may be an _Ace_ above thee, if thou art too _Censorious_.

But some may say, That this is but _actum agere_, a Collection out of _Guzman_, _Buscon_, or some others that have writ upon this subject; _Crambem bis coctam apponere_; and that I have onely _squeez’d_ their _Juice_, (adding some Ingredients of mine own) and afterwards _distill’d_ it in the _Lymbeck_ of my own _Head_. _Non habes confitentem reum_, I ne’er _extracted_ from them _one single drop of Spirit_. As if we could not produce an _English Rogue_ of our _own_, without being beholding to other _Nations_ for him. I will not say that he durst vye with either an _Italian_, _Spanish_, or _French Rogue_; but having been _steept_ for some years in an _Irish Bogg_, that hath added so much to his _Rogue-ships_ perfection, that he out-did them all by out-doing one, and that was a _Scot_; I need not use the Epithite _Roguish_, since the very name proves it a _Tautologie_. If I have borrowed any thing, it was not from what past the _Press_; but what I have taken upon the _score_ in Discourse, _&c._ I here repay with Usury, but not in the same _Commodity_. _Etiamsi apparet unde sumptum sit, aliud tamen quam unde sumptum fit, apparet._ I have not done as the _Romans_, who robb’d the whole Universe to enrich their ill-sited City; _Rome_ I mean. I skimm’d not off the Cream of other mens Wits, nor Cropt the flowers in others gardens to garnish my own _Plots_; neither have I Larded my Lean Fancy with the Fat of others _Ingenious Labours_; but from the dictation of my own _Genius_, I have exprest _quicquid in buccam venerit_, what came next, without much premeditation or study. Gramercy _Sack_, if happily I have hit the mark.

I am no _Aquæ potor_, an implacable _Enemy to Small Beer_; all the _Purchases_ I can boast of, lies in _Wine_, which is by _Moderns_ highly esteemed for improving good Wits, _infusing_ Elogies and _Hyperbolical Exornations_, forming such hard Words in the _Brain_, as shall, like _Acesta’s arrows_, catch fire as they flie. But I have _wandered_ from that _common rode_, respecting more the _matter_ then _words_. For my Stile is _plain_ and _familiar_, rejecting bombast _Expressions_, thinking them most _happy_ when most easily to be understood.

As for the _Matter_ it self, if it be faulty, or the _Method_ rude and indigested, consider, _Quod nihil perfectum vel singulari consummatum industria_, No man can observe all things; neither is it to be imagined that all _Rogueries_ can be perform’d by one man. Not but that when you have read him, you will find him _Notorious_ enough.

Some men are not content to _commit Villany_ themselves, and boast of it too, but they will rob others of that which they should be _asham’d_ to own. In this there is little or no _Fiction_, I’ll assure you; and there is no _Story_ therein which doth not carry with it more then the bare _probability_ of _truth_. Should I speak much more, it is to be fear’d some will argue from hence, that I am conscious to my self of its various defects; and therefore I shall desist from Apologizing for it, or my self.

Sensible I am, that if ought be omitted or added, which the Reader likes or dislikes, he will account me _Mancipium pancæ lectionis_, an Idiot, an insipid Asse; _nullus sum, vel Plagiarius_, a very Thief, and that I stole other mens Labours. Thus do I know I shall be vilified and undervalued even by such, that are so far from being capable of judging of _Ingenuity_, that they know not how to write Orthographically six words of sence in their own Mother-tongue. Yet I must confess, what is writ, is neither as I would, nor as it should, it being usher’d into the world as it was first written; whereas I should have done with this, as a _Physitian_ advised should be done with _Lapis Lazuli_, to be washt fifty times before used: had not immergent Affairs hindred me, I would have licked this _Cub_ into a more _comely Form_. But since ’tis otherwise, I shall onely complain with _Ovid_:—

_Cum relego scripsisse pudet, quia plurimo cerno, Me quoq; quæ fuerant Judice digna lini._

All the favour that I shall desire, is, That the _Reader_ would not account the _Printers_ literal or verbal Escapes _mine_; and withal pass a candid interpretation on each Line; and I shall endeavour in a short time to become more satisfactory, and study how I may be always serviceable to my Country.

_When I read o’er what I have writ, then shame O’erspreads my face, because it stabs my Name._

ON THE ENGLISH ROGUE.

_What others writ, was ta’en upon the Score; Thou art in _Re_, what they but _feign’d_ before. They did but _lisp, or worse_, speak through the Nose: Thou hast pronounc’t, and liv’st in _Verse_ and _Prose_. _Guzman_, _Lazaro_, _Buscon_, and _Francion_, Till thou appear’dst did shine as at high Noon. Thy Book’s now extant; those that Judge of Wit, Say, They and _Rablais_ too fall short of it. How could’t be otherwise, since ’twas thy fate, To _practise_ what they did but _imitate_. We stand amaz’d at thy _Ephesian Fire_; Such _purchas’d Infamy_ all must admire._

N. D.

ON THE ENSUING SUBJECT.

_What more _Rogues still_? I thought our happy Times Were freed from such, as from _Rebellious Crimes_. But such will be: i’ th’ best of _Times_ we find The _worst of men_; the _Law_ can’t _lawless_ bind. It might be so, since Nature thought it fit To give some nought but _Lands_, to others _Wit_ But no _Estates_, bestowing such a mind That can’t within due _limits_ be confin’d. Hence _Depredations_, _Thefts_, nay worser facts, _Cheating_ & _Whoring_, with unheard-of acts: For _Swimming_ for their _Lives_, these _misrules_ think, ’Tis better _catch_ at any thing, then _sink_. Such was this _Rogue_, esteem’d the worst of men; Liv’d by his _Sword_, his _Pregnant Wit_, and _Pen_. In short, Pray pardon if I speak amiss; I never read so arch a _Rogue_ as _This_._

A. B.

The Preface to the Reader.

When this piece was first published it was ushered into the World with the usual ceremony of a Preface, and that a large one, whereby the Authour intended and endeavoured to possess the Reader with a belief, that what was written was the Life of a _Witty Extravagant_, the Authours Friend and Acquaintance. This was the intent of the Writer, but the Readers could not be drawn to this belief, but in general concurred in this opinion, that it was the Life of the Authour, and notwithstanding all that hath been said to the contrary many still continue in this opinion. Indeed the whole story is so genuine and naturally described without any forcing or Romancing that all contained in it seems to be naturally true, and so i’le assure you it is, but not acted by any one single person, much less by the Authour, who is well known to be of an inclination much different from the foul debaucheries of the Relations, & if the Readers had read the _Spanish_ Rogue, _Gusman_; the _French_ Rogue, _Francion_; and several other by Forraign Wits, and have upon examination found that the Authors were persons of great eminency and honour, and that no part of their own writings were their own lives; they had happily changed their opinion of the Authour of this; but they holding this opinion caused him to desist from prosecuting his story in a Second Part, and he having laid down the Cudgels I took them up, and my design in so doing was out of three considerations, the first and chiefest was to gain ready money, the second I had an itch to gain some Reputation by being in Print, and thereby revenge my self on some who had abused me, and whose actions I recited, and the third was to advantage the Reader and make him a gainer by acquainting him with my experiences. This were the reasons for my engaging in the Second part, and the very same reason induced me to joyn with the Authour in composing and Writing a third and fourth Part, in which we have club’d so equally, and intermixt our stories so joyntly, that it is some difficulty for any at first sight to distinguish what we particularly Writ and now having concluded the Preface, which should never have been begun but that I had a blank page, and was unwilling to be so ill a husband for you, but that you should have all possible content for your money, and withal to tell you that I would not have you as yet to expect any more parts of the book, for although a fifth and last part is design’d, yet i’le assure you there is never a stitch amiss, nor one line Written of it, and if you desire that, you must give me encouragement by your speedy purchasing of what is already Written; and thereby you will ingage

_Your Friend_, _Francis Kirkman_.

_The Epistle to the Reader._

Gentlemen,

It hath been too much the humour of late, for men rather to adventure on the Forreign crazy stilts of other mens inventions, then securely walk on the ground-work of their own home-spun fancies. What I here present ye with, is an original in your own Mother-tongue; and yet I may not improperly call it a Translation, drawn from the Black Copy of mens wicked actions; such who spared the Devil the pains of courting them, by listing themselves Volunteers to serve under his Hellish Banners; with some whereof I have heretofore been unhappily acquainted, and am not ashamed to confess that I have been somewhat soiled by their vitious practices, but now I hope cleansed in a great measure from those impurities. Every man hath his peculiar guilt, proper to his constitution and age: and most have had (or will have) their exorbitant exiliencies, erronious excursions, which are least dangerous when attended by Youthfulness.

This good use I hope the Reader will make with me of those follies, that are so generally and too frequently committed every where, by declining the commission of them (if not for the love of virtue, yet to avoid the dismal effects of the most dangerous consequences that continually accompany them.) And how shall any be able to do this, unless they make an introspection into Vice? which they may do with little danger; for it is possible to injoy the Theorick, without making use of the Practick.

* * * * *

To save my Country-men the vast expence and charge of such experimental Observations, I have here given an accompt of my readings, not in Books, but Men; which should have been buried in silence, (fearing lest its Title might reflect on my Name and Reputation) had not a publick good interceded for its publication, far beyond any private interest or respect.

When I undertook this Subject, I was destitute of all those Tools (Books, I mean) which divers pretended Artists make use of to form some Ill-contrived design. By which ye may understand, that as necessity forced me, so a generous resolution commanded me to scorn a _Lituanian_ humour or Custom, to admit of _Adjutores tori_, helpers in a Marriage-bed, there to engender little better than a spurious issue. It is a legitimate off-spring, I’ll assure yee, begot by one singly and soly, and a person that dares in spight of canker’d Malice subscribe himself

A well-willer to his Countries welfare,

_Richard Head_.

On the approvedly-ingenious, and his loving Friend, Mr. _Richard Head_, the Author of this book.

_What _Gusman_, _Buscon_, _Francion_, _Rablais_ writ, I once applauded for most excellent wit: But reading _Thee_, and thy rich Fancies store, I now condemne, what I admir’d before. Henceforth _Translations_ pack away, be gone; No _Rogue_ so well writ, as our _English_ one._

M. Y.

To his respected Friend, the Author.

_Could I but reach _Bayes_ from _Apollo’s Tree_, I’d make a _Wreath_ to _Crown_ thy _Work_ and _Thee_; Which yet is needless, now I think upon’t; Thy own _great Pen_ deservedly hath don’t. Of all who write of _Thee_, this is my Vogue, _None ere writ better of, and is less Rogue_._

W. W.

On his deserving friend the Author.

__Fletcher_ the _King_ of _Poets_ of his age, In all his writings throughout every page Made it his chiefest business to describe The various humours of the _canting-Tribe_: His _Beggars-bush_, and other of his _Playes_ Did gain to him (deservedly) the _Bayes_. _Nature_ and _Art_ in _him_ were both conjoyn’d; None could ere say that his Wit was purloyn’d: Neither is _thine_: he did all fancies fill, From _Kings_ and _Queens_, unto the _Maid o’ th’ Mill_; And so canst _thou_, for thou hast here display’d The Vices of each _Sex_, and every _Trade_. Wherefore what he in his time wore, do _thou_ Put on, a _Wreath_ of _Bays_ t’ adorne thy _brow_._

F. K.

TO THE

READER,

In stead of the

_ERRATA_.

_This _Rogue_ hath had his faults, the Printers too; All men whilst here do _erre_; and so may _you_._

THE

ENGLISH ROGUE,

Describ’d in the Life of a

_Witty Extravagant_.

CHAP. I.

_What his Parents were. The place of his own Nativity. His miraculous Escape from the hands of Irish Rebels. His brother being at that very time murdered by the merciless hands of those bloody Butchers._

After a long and strict Inquisition after my Fathers Pedegree, I could not find any of his Ancestors bearing a _Coat_: surely length of time had _worn_ it out. But if the _Gentle Craft_ will any wayes ennoble his Family, I believe I could deduce several of his Name, Professors of that lasting Art, even from _Crispin_. My Fathers Father had by his continual labour in Husbandry, arrived to the height of a Farmer, then the Head of his Kindred: standing upon one of his own Mole-Hills, Ambition so swelled him, that he swore by his Plow-share, that his eldest Son (my Father) should be a _Scholhard_: and should learn so long, till he could read any printed or written hand; nay, and if occasion should serve, write a Bill or Bond.

It was never known that any of the Family could distinguish one letter from another, neither could they speak above the reach of their Horses understandings. Talk to them in any other Dialect but that of a _Bag-pudding of a Peck_, or _a piece of Beef_, (in which their teeth might step wet shod) and a man were as good to have discoursed with them in _Arabick_. But let me not abuse them; for some understood something else that is to say, The Art of Whistling, Driving their Team and to shoo themselves as well as their Horses; how to lean methodically upon a Staff and through the holes of their Hat, tell what it is a Clock by the Sun.

The symmetricall proportion, sweetness of features, and acuteness of my Fathers wit, were such (though extracted out of this lump of _red_ and _white marle_) that he was belov’d of all. As the loveliness of his person gain’d always an interest in Female hearts; so the quickness of apprehension and invention, and the acquired quaintness of his expressions; procured him the friendship of such as converted with him. A Gentleman at length taking notice of more then ordinary natural Parts in him, at his proper charge sent him to School contrary to the desire of his Father, who was able enough to maintain him at School; and to say the truth this Gentleman offered not my Father his patronage upon any charitable account, but that he might hearafter glory in the being the chief instrument of bringing up such a fair promising Wit, which he questioned not with good cultivation would bring forth such lovely fruit as would answer cost, and fully satisfie his expectation. Being admitted into the Grammar-School, by the strength of his memory, to his Masters great amazement, in a very short time he had _Lillies Rules_ by heart, out-stripping many that for years had been entred before him; his Master perceiving what a stupendious proficiency he had made, was very glad that this fair opportunity offered it self, that he might be idle, and in order thereunto would frequently appoint my Father to be his Usher or Deputy, when he intended to turn Bacchanalian, to drink, hunt, or whore, to which vices he was over-much addicted. My Father having now conquered in a manner the difficulties of that Schools learning began now to lay aside his Book, and follow the steps of his vicious learned Master, the examples of a Superior proving oftentimes guides to inferior actions,

_Regis ad exemplum_——