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he made a chaffer of; the petticoat he gave to his honest wife, one of the best deeds he ever did to her. How the croshabell looked when she awaked and saw this, I was never there to know.

HOW THE GENTLEMAN WAS GULLED FOR
SHAVING OF GEORGE.

GEORGE had a daughter of the age of ten years, a girl of a pretty form, but of an excellent wit: all part of her was father, save her middle; and she had George so tutored all night, that although himself was the author of it, yet had he been transformed into his daughter's shape, he could not have done it with more conceit. George at that time dwelt at the Bankside: from whence comes this she-sinnow,” early in the morning, with her hair dishevelled, wringing her hands, and making such pitiful moan with shrieks and tears, and beating of her breast, that made the people in a maze. Some stood wondering at the child, others plucked her to know the occasion; but none could stay her by any means, but on she kept her journey, crying O, her father, her good father, her dear father over the bridge, thorough Cheapeside, and so to the Old Bailey, where the gentleman sojourned. There sitting

* she-sinnow] So the edition of 1626, and that printed for Henry Bell without a date; the edition of 1671 “she-sinnew.” Other editions I have not seen. Qy. “she-Sinon,” or “shesinner.”

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herself down, a hundred people gaping upon her, there she begins to cry out, Woe to that place, that her father ever saw it! she was a cast-away, her mother was undone! till with the moise, one of the gentleman's men coming down, looked on her, and knew her to be George Peele's daughter. He presently runs up, and tells his master, who commanded his man to bring her up. The gentleman was in a

cold sweat, fearing that George had for the wrong he did him the day before, some way undone him-

self. When the girl came up, he demanded the cause why she so lamented, and called upon her father? George's flesh and blood, after a million of sighs, cried out upon him, he had made her father, her good father, drown himself: which words once ut

tered, she fell into a counterfeit swoon, whom the

gentleman soon recovered. This news went to his heart: and he being a man of a very mild condition, cheered up the girl; made his men to go buy her new clothes from top to toe; said he would be a father to her; gave her five pounds; bid her go home and carry it to her mother, and in the evening he would visit her. At this, by little and little, she began to be quiet, desiring him to come and see her mother. He tells her he will not fail; bids her go home quietly. So down stairs goes she pertly; and the wondering people that staid at door to hear the manner of her grief, had of her nought but knavish answers, and home went she directly. The gentleman was so crossed in mind, and disturbed in

thought at this unhappy, accident, that his soul could not be quiet still he had been with this woeful widow, as he thought; and presently went to Black Friars, took a pair of oars, and went directly too George Peele's house; owhere he found his wife's plucking of larks, my crying crocodile turning of the spit, and George pinned up in a blanket at his translation. The gentleman, more glad at the unlooked for life of George, than the loss of his money, took part of the good cheer George had to dinner; 4 wondered at the cunning of the wench; and within a some few days after had an end of his book. so- or ... • * ...; , , of 2 to - , or Jo Boro How GEORGE READ A PLAY-Book to A or

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• * : * * * * * * * * * * * * * t; on THERE was a gentleman, whom God had endued...! with good living to maintain his small wit: he was not a fool absolute, although in this world he had good fortune; and he was in a manner an ingle to of George, one that took great delight to have the first hearing of any work, that George had done, 4 himself being a writer, and had a poetical invention of his own, which when he had with great labour finished, their fatal end was for privy purposes. This. self-conceited brock had George invited to half a score sheets of paper; whose Christianly pen had writ Finis to the famous play of the Turkish Maha-g met, and Hyrin the fair Greek, in Italian called as:

VOL. II. U

curtezan, in Spain, a margerite, in French, une curtain, in England, among the barbarous, a whore, but among the gentle, their usual associates, a punk: but now the word refined being latest, and the authority brought from a climate as yet unconquered, the fruitful county of Kent, they call them croshabell, which is a word but lately used, and fitting with their trade, being of a lovely and courteous condition. Leaving them, this fantastic, whose brain was made of nought but cork and sponge, came to the cold lodging of Monsieur Peele, in his black satin suit, his gown furred with coney, in his slippers. Being in the evening he thought to hear George's book, and so to return to his inn; this not of the wisest, being of S. Bernard's. George bids him welcome; told him he would gladly have his opinion in his book. He willingly condescended, and George begins to read, and between every scene he would make pauses, and demand his opinion how he liked the carriage of it. Quoth he, wondrous well, the conveyance. O, but, quoth George, the end is far better; for he meant another conveyance ere they two departed. George was very tedious in reading, and the night grew old: I protest, quoth the gentleman, I have stayed over long; I fear me I shall hardly get into mine inn. If you fear that, quoth George, we will have a clean pair of sheets, and you shall take a simple lodging here. This house-gull willingly embraced it, and to bed they go; where George in the midst of the night spying his time, put on this dormouse's clothes, desired God to keep him in good rest, honestly takes leave of him and the house to whom he was indebted four nobles. When this drone awaked, and found himself so left, he had not the wit to be angry, but swore scurvily at the misfortune, and said, I thought he would not have used me so. And although it so pleased the fates he had another suit to put on, yet he could not get thence, till he had paid the money George owed to the house, which for his credit he did ; and when he came to his lodging, in anger he made a poem of it:

Peele is no poet, but a gull and clown,
To take away my clothes and gown:
I vow by Jove, if I can see him wear it,
I'll give him a glyg, and patiently bear it.

HOW GEORGE PEELE SERVED HALF A SCORE CITIZENS.

GEORGE once had invited half a score of his friends to a great supper, where they were passing merry, no cheer wanting, wine enough, music playing: the night growing on, and being upon departure, they call for a reckoning. George swears there is not a penny for them to pay. They, being men of good fashion, by no means will yield unto it, but every man throws down his money, some ten shillings,

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