A dialogue betuuixt a cittizen, and a poore countrey man and his wife, in the countrey, where the citizen remaineth now in this time of sicknesse written by him in the countrey, who sent the coppy to a friend in London ; being both pitifull and pleasant.

A Dialogue betwixt a Cittizen , and a poore Countrey-man and his Wife , in the Countrey , where the Citizen remaineth now in this time of sicknesse .

Written by him in the Countrey , who sent the coppy to a friend in London , Being both pittifull and pleasant .

London Printed by R. Oulton for H. Gosson and are to be sold at his shop upon London Bridge neere the Gate .

1636.

A Dialogue betwixt a Cittizen and a Countrey-man . Cittizen .

GOod Even good frend , inhabite you nere hand ?

Countrey-man .

Chy dwell not varre hence , what would you I pray ?

Cit. No harme , I would but kindly understand , Where I might lodge and eate , and frankly pay . Coun. Why sir , whence come you ? masse chiveare you come From London , where the Plague is parlous hote , And it be so , no further words but mumme : No meate , nor drinke , nor lodging wil be got , Cit. Alas why so ? are you a Christian , And suffer any die for lacke of foode ? I am not sicke beleeve me honest man , I would not doe thee hurt for any good . Coun. Yea zo zay all that know not where to goe , When as the Plague doth drive them from the Cittie : But many a one doth worke himselfe great woe , With foolish shewing of another pitty . Cit. Why here is gold and silver for thy pains , I le richly pay for whatsoere I take . Coun. You le pay the Plague . O these are pretty trains , Which makes the simple woefull bargaines make . Cit. Why search , and see , if I be not as sound , As any creature in your Countrey here . Coun. Oh sir , th' infection is not so soone found , For Cloathes will keepe the Plague in halfe a yeare . Cit. Yet let me lodge but in your barne or stable , Some cote , or out-house , that you best may spare : I le be content to take a simple table , Nor shall you finde me dainty of my fare . Coun. Sir , hold your rest , they zay a horse , a hog , And cats and mise , will die of that disease : I promise you , I would not lose my dog : Not for a strike of the best beanes and pease . Cit. But doe you make of cattell more then men ? That were unchristian , Heathens doe not so : Coun. Why let us want our cattell , horse , and then How dogged some men we shall finde I know . Cit. What men are they , that in extremity , Will not in conscience christian pitty shew ? Coun. Even you rich Land-lords that have heard our cry Yet racke your rents , how ere our sorrowes grow , Fruit blasted , cattell die , be ne're so poore , Pay rent at day , or turne us out of doore . Cit. Why we are thousands that no rent receive , But subject are to Landlords , and their wils : It is the Devill doth the world deceive , Which town and countrey with his veno me fills . Be pittifull , and thinke not on the worse , Beleeve me , I am free from this infection : The kinde are blessed , and the cruell curst , Beasts in their kinde will shew their kinde affection . Coun. Indeed : I heare an Ape will lime himself With putting on a paire of painted breeches : But I will not so play the foolish elfe , To kill my selfe with listening to your speeches . There came this other day into our town , A handsome fine old man for flesh and bloud : And as you doe , went plodding up and down , And was ( zome za ) a man of much worlds good , Met a poore man , as you doe me , and quired , Where he might come by lodging , meat , and drink . The man with money , being poore , was hierd To get him lodging : and where doe you think ? But in a cottage of his own here by : Where well he had not rested full three daies , But he was dead and buried by and by , Whose purse the poore man to much wealth did raise , But long the riches did not with him bide : For in a weeke his wife and children di'd , Save onely two , which yet are in good health : But as for me I seeke for no such wealth . Cit. Why trust me of my word , you need not fear , Both you and yours shall better fare by me . I am not sicke , in faith and truth I swear , My clothes are fresh , and not infected be . Coun. I pray stand further , zome will zay , the wind Will bring it through ones nose into their brain . Cit. Alas , their faith is of a fearfull kinde , Whose idle heads doe beate on such a vaine . Coun. Why is t not fectious , and doth kill so many ? Why cats and dogs will beare it to and fro . Cit. Yea cats and dogs , but Christians few , if any That take it , in the time they pitty show . Coun. Oh , you are fine , it is , and t is not , well : You fear it , and flie from it where it is , And yet you zeeme an idle tale to tell , How zome t will hit , and other zome t wil misse : But be what twill , our Iustices of Peace Have chargde our parish , upon paine of galie , To take in none , untill the sicknesse cease : And thinke you such Precepts of none availe ? Cit. Alas , should so our Cittie keepe you out , How would you sell your corne to pay your rent ? It may be ere the yeare doth goe about , You may this lacke of charity repent : For God can shew his mercy where he will , And plague all those that will not pitty show . The Cittie well , the Countrey may be ill : ( But yet I pray the Lord it be not so . ) You are not free from sinne , no more than we , Nor yet free from deserved punishment : Let us then now in you your pitty see : And by our plague learne you amendement : Be not afraide man , do not stoppey our nose . Me thinkes , your age should bid you fear no death . Coun. Yet I am loath , good sir , my life to lose , By an infection of a plaguy breath , But what will all my neighbours thinke on me , If they should know that you from London came ; There would be worke enough ywis for me , To shut up me , my houshold and my dame . Cit. That were but if some in your house doe die , Of the infection , and not other wise . Coun. I tell you no , they are so jealous , They are almost afraid of London flies : A Londoner is lookt on like a sprite , The Citi 's thought a Sepulchre or grave . Cit. Oh faithles soules whose hearts are so affright . All civill rites and government they have : But for your selfe , let me intreate you yet , Some little roome , and vittaile what you will , I le pay you well and one day thinke on it , And for your kindenesse not requite you ill . Coun. What ? shall I danger all my house for you ? The losse will be farre greater then my gaine . If that your passe the Constable allow ; The best I can I will you entertain . Cit. Then need I not your Courtesie intreat , But say I have none , shall I starve for food ? Coun. No , God forbid , I le helpe you to some meat , Which you may eate upon that piece of wood : Many a good time have I upon that blocke Fed hungerly , on such as God hath sent , Though now the Lord increased hath our stocke . On Easter daies we doe not make our Lent . But , should I lodge you in my little house , And that my Dame would so contented be , If there should die a catte , a ratte , a mouse , That any neighbour by ill chance should see , I were undone , and if that you should die , You must he buried here in my backe side , For not a man of all our ministry Will bury them that of the plague have dide , And therefore this is all that I dare doe , Vnder that hovell where my hogges doe lie , Sit down , I le bring you drink and vittaile too , The best I have , there you may sit you drie , Soon , if my Dame will gree thereto , I le see What may be done , but further pardon me . Wife . Bones , man , how now ? who 's that you talk to so , A Londoner ? for Gods sake come away , Are you too well ? what doe you meane I trow ? You doe not know yet who is dead to day , My neighbor Ione that tooke home her lame sonnes , Both dead , and thus we shall be all undone , The fection will be round about the towne , So many came to them when they were sicke , And knew not t was the plague : her wosted gowne Shee gave my Iugge , and her sonnes cloake to Dicke : But I will hang them on the pales all day , And ayre them well , before they put them on . But , pray doe you leave talking , come away , Lest you be taken napping too anon . Coun. Why hearke you Madge , the man is haile and well , For aught I see , and haz good store of golde : Faith be content , cha heard my vather tell , They are no men that doe no pitty holde : Thou seest t is late , the mans a hansome man , Well coloured , well clad , and monied too : The Zittie may doe wel againe , and than , God knowes what good the man for us may doe . Wife . Well zaide y wis , when he haz killd us all , Where goes his good , when we are under ground ? Cit. Good woman , let no feare your heart appall , I would not hurt you for a hundred po●nd . Wife . And truelyi honest man , if I knew how , I could find in my heart to doe you good , And this I care not if I doe for you : I le see you shall notstarue for lacke of foode , Though some heere in our towne are so hard hearted , They care not though they see a thousand die : But God be thanked , some of them have smarted For shewing of such dogged cruelty . But for it seemes that God hath done his part In you , I hope you are a Christian , I will be glad in troth with all my heart , To doe you good , and doe the best I can : You shall come in , I le venture once a joynt : What my poore house can yeeld , you shall command , I care not for the Constable a poynt : For if by chance that any man demaund , From whence you come , or what you are , or so : I le frame a tale shall serve the turne I trow , Come in on Gods name , man , be of good cheere , My daughter Iugge shall goe for double beere : I have a goose , a ducke , a pigge , a chicke . A peece of bacon , butter , milke , and bread . God holde you sound , that you doe not fall sicke , You shall doe well : but truely for your bed , You must content your selfe , with such a one , As our poore state affoordes , and we have none But two of strawe , and one poore matteresse , That you shall haue , we keepe it for a friend , And you are welcome , you shall finde no lesse , And glad I bought it to so good an end . Cit. Good woman , God reward your kinde good will , Which at your hands I take most thankfully , And credite me , you neede to feare no ill : Beleeve me , none before his time shall die , I hope my comming shall be for your good : Your pullein onely by my meanes may die : But I will pay you soundly for your brood . I pray you kill a pullet by and by : Heere s golde and silver , send for bread and beere , God give us health , and we will have good cheere . Coun. Why loe you wife , you know how money goes : Surely , God sent him for our good , I see : I hope in God at last we shall not lose , By doing good to such a one as he : But pray remember that you goe to morrow To maister Baily with our Landlords rent : And if you lacke , you know where you may borrow . Cit. No borrowing now , I pray you be content : I will supply your want , what ere it be : You shall not finde so ill a guest of me , Here 's forty shillings , which I freely give . Coun. God blesse your worship , and long may you live . Wife . Amen pray God : Ho Sisse , goe take the kan , And fetch some beere and white bread for this man : But take heed that you tell not for whom 't is , And hie you home again . And heare you Sisse , If any chaunce to see him , and doe quire Who t is , say t is my Gossip maister Squire , But and they doe not aske , say nothing , no : Goe , let me see how quickly you can goe : Iugge , kill the peckled pullet , the red chicke , Scald them , and to the fire with them quicke , quicke : Bid Dicke goe fetch in stickes , cleave an old pale : And Gentleman , love you a cuppe of Ale ? That we have in the house , pray sit you down , And welcome , tut , a pinne for all the town , My husband is an honest man , and I Feare not the best of them a halfpeny I pay the Parsons tithe , and Scot , and Lot , And care not for the Constable a groat : A sort of Hogges will see men die for food : They , or their brattes will come to little good . I marvell what the pestilence they scrape for , And what t is their wide mouths do yawne & gape for : But meate and drinke , and cloth for me and mine , I seeke no more , nor ●are I to be fine : To pay my rent , and with my neighbours live , And at my doore a dogg a bone to give . Be merry Gentleman , I pray be merry , And take your rest , I feare me you are weary . Citti. Not much , my walke hath not bin long to day , And your good mirth drives wearinesse away : I thank you for your kindenesse heartily , And if I live , I le quite it thorowly . Wife . I thank you sir , I doubt it not y wis , Husband , I pray goe meet my daughter Sisse , And beate her home : you spoile her , that you do : Iugge , blowe the fire , and lay the pullet to . Sir , you may see rude gearles , they are but rawe . Sisse , set downe your kanne and fetch in fresh straw , Lay in the bedde , and aire the hempen sheetes That lie in the browne chest , and strew some sweetes Along the windowes , Isope , Marioam , A Rose or two : come Gentleman , pray come , Take a hard cushin , be of good cheere I pray : Griefe doth no good , no , no , cast care away : I thanke my God that hither thus hath sent you , And if our fare and lodging will content you , Stay even your pleasure , til your selfe be weary , Wee le doe the best we can to make you mery . Cit. It was my hap , after a weary walke , With this good man and wife to fall in talke : And where before I went in heart full grieved , I could not in my sorrow be relieved : Each sullen slowch and slut would so disdaine me , As if they scornd or feard to entertaine me : Scarce bread and drinke for mony I could get , Which from the house upon the ground was set , As if that one should cast a dogge a bone . And thus I wandred up and down alone , Vntill I met these honest people here , Who for my money made me hearty cheere , And kindely carefull of me every way . With good content I here was glad to stay , Where I beheld a number passing by , That ( as I heard ) did in the high-wayes die : Some harbourlesse , and some through want of food , While faithlesse hearts did fear to doe men good . Oh heavy time , how many hearts are broken With helpelesse grief , it is not to be spoken : But God almighty look upon the Citie : And in his mercy shew his glorious pitie , To cease this plague , or killing pestilence : Forgive us all the ill of our offence . Preserve his people , and our health restore , That we may love and praise him evermore . Preserve the Court and Country every where : Our King and Queene , their royall progeny , Their Counsell , friends , and all that true harts beare Vnto their gratious worthy Maiestie . And blesse both Court , Citty , and Country so , That none may to another stranger be , But passage free for every man to goe , And friend his friend in friendly love may see , And all to gether may record in one , To give all glory unto God alone . Amen .

London ▪ Trumpet Sounding into the Countrey . When Death drives , the Grave thrives .

SInne calls downe Punishment : Punishment should bring forth Amendment of life : Amendment ever méets with mercy , and mercy stops Sicknesse , when 't is in the highest speede : So that if we still goe on in wickednesse , wée must every wéeke looke to have the bill of Terror strike us more and more .

The visitation ( and rightly may it carry that Name ) hath now foure times in a few yeares Rode circuite through the whole Kingdome , and kept a dreadfull Sessions , within London , and round about it : Death does at this houre Scout up and downe the Suburbes , and shewes his Ghastly face in some Parrishes of the Citty .

Those houses which are shut up , Charity opens , and most liberally feedes them . Those houses of poore Handy-crafts-men , that stand open , are for want of worke pinch'd with hunger , and the people ready to goe a begging .

Yet there is one comfort , there is no man ( bée he never so poore ) but méetes in every corner , one poorer than himselfe : So that , what Adversities soever are layd upon us , wée are bound to prayse God , in that wée are not cast downe to the lowest Misfortunes in the World , for wée heare of ten thousands in forteine places , in fatte worse estate then wée are .

Now , as Men and Women , have a particular cause to send their Devotions up to Heaven , when they compare their present beings ( how wretched soever ) with others more wretched : So many Townes , Cittyes , and Kingdomes , may ( in generall ) lift up their eyes with joy , when albeit the Divine vengeance hath smote them , with a Mace of Iron : Yet if they looke on their Neighbours , miserably torne in pieces : They behold those over-whelmed with more raging billows then they féele or sée comming néere themselves .

As for example , this goodly and beautifull City of London , hath now but a few faynt spots set in her flesh : A few pestilentiall sores sticking on her body : But a few Tokens are sent her , to bid her Remember , who sées her doings : She heares no great Number of Bels Tolling : No terrible number of Graves are opened in her sight : Not whole stréets of houses are now shut up with Redde Crosses on the doores : And Lord have Mercy upon us , over those doores , to fright Beholders : There are not such Fines , and Incomes , to bée payd for Tenements of the dead , ( Heaven be blessed ) as there were either at the comming of King Iames to his Crowne , or of King Charles our Soveraigne to his .

Alas , these markes , Printed ( London ) upon thée now , are but Flea-bitinges to the stripes which drew blood from thy very Heart , in those dayes of Desolation .

And yet , how art thou Frighted ? How pale are thy Chéekes ? How does this one fit of a burning Fea●er , inflame all thy body ? How doest thou shake the Head , and complaine , that doings are cold ? that Trading lies dead ? and that money keepes her bedde , and is not stirring .

How doe thy Coaches , and Caroaches runne thorow thy stréets , and so out at thy Gates , full of brave , rich people to live safe ( as they hope ) in the Countrey ? Not caring how sorrowfull a life thou leadest here in their absence .

How little doe they regard the poore , which they leave behinde them ? What is it to them , if some poore wretches drop downe in the streetes ? This touches not them : It wounds not them : Gallants , and Cittizens , take leave of them with much complement at the Coaches side , the Coachman with his Hart off , asking if hee shall ●et forward : On , on , they then all cry , and away ( in a Hurry : ) thunder they ( O London ) out of thy Reach .

Yet , cast thine eye on this Picture above , they cannot bee out of his reach : who is ready to follow them , with Times Glasse in one hand and his owne blacke darts in the other . This Rawbone Foot-man can runne by the side of the Coach-horses , and smite the officious Coachman in the midst of his journey .

When in heapes , people stand gazing on a dead Corpes suddenly strucken downe in the fields : This cunning dart-caster , can stand before them , looke at them , threaten them , and tell them ( when hee 's bidden but to shoote ) They shall féele the strength of his leane arme , as well as the others .

And yet , albeit so many Waggons laden with Houshold-stuffe , are every day drawn from thee : Albeit so many doores are lockt up , and so many take their heeles , and fly in this day of Battaile : Yet their flight is for the most part into the mouth of danger . For , the Countrey lookes with a more pale , and sickly Colour , then ( London ) thou doest .

Rejoyce not that thy Neighbours are so ill , but clappe thy hands for joy then thy selfe art no worse . Pray for thy distressed friends , neighbouring Townes , and Citties : And releive them to thy power , if they want : As thou hast with a Noble , Frée , and bountifull hand done to some of late already .

It is warrantable by the Lawes of God , to shunne infection , and to fly persecution : Divines and best men , dos the one , And the Martyrs when they lived did the other . But now ( blessed be the white hand of mercy ) there are no such Tyrannicall Enemies beating at thy gates .

If they that are in the fulnesse of Riches , and the fatnesse of the Land , have Mannors , and Lordshipps to ride to : And Countrey houses to repaire to , for pleasure , to avoyde infection : In Gods name , let them goe , wish them well at their setting foorth , welcome them with Embraces at their comming in : But withall put them in minde of one thing , to doe some good to the poore in the Country , though now they do none here , and all shall be well .

And you in the Countrey , whose Barnes are full of Corne , and whose fieldes are crow'nd with blessings : You , into whose Nostrilles the breath of Heaven , suffers his wholesome ayre to passe to and fro , to give you health , and to make long lusty old age waite upon you at your Tables : To you I speake , your eies doe I wish to bée opened . To looke backe at your hard and unkinde dealings with Cittizens , in the two last great Sicknesses : Remember how your Infidelity then , hath beene punished since : And therefore welcome the Sonnes , and Daughters of London comming to you now , as if they were your owne .

This Sicknesse call'd the Plague , hath a quick foot , and a stirring hand : Yet ( blessed be the sender of this dreadfull Pursivant ) he has not béene too busie with us as yet : Let your eyes but looke beyond Seas , into other Citties and you will acknowledge the Almighties Mercy wonderously extended to us . For , those thrée punishments ( Sword , Pestilence , and Famine , ) of which , Davids Prophet bid him ( from an Angels mouth ) make his choyce of one , doe at this instant hotly lay about them in some part of Italy : In so much , that for 4. Moneths , ( Now in this Summer ) there have dyed of the Plague in Millan , 30000. In Mantua , 36000. In Parma , 20000. And so in other Citties great number besides .

The soft wings of compassion , all this while Cover us , not that wée deserve to be spared , but that out of his love , God does spare us . For in this last blow , which hée gives us , bée fights not with many old men , he gives them time yet to repent , nor with many young men , hée winkes at their faults a while , hoping they will bée wiser : But looke over all your wéekely Bils , ever since there dyed at first but one , and you shall finde , of Infants and young Children , twenty for one snatched out of their Cradles , because God will bée sure to increase his Saints in Heaven .

The king of kings when hée sées his time , shorten and end these miseries , and powre downe his wonted blessings on this Land , This Citty , us all , AMEN .

Death NOw whither a Gods name run you 〈…〉 , Why ride you here , why trudge you there As though for fear you were agast ? come stay your iourney strait . For doe you not know in field or town , That I am a captain of high renowne ? So when I list , I can beate you downe , for still I lay in wait . Consider then , I pray you men , What moves you thus to flie ? Come home again , for I tell you plaine , That here I could make you die . Life . What art thou every where to finde ? Fearefully thus thou comest to us , With crueltie thou art inclinde , for to pursue men still : Thou wast in London when we came out , Throwing thy deadly darts about , And now in the Countrey thou art as stout , to follow thy froward will . What needest thou to make us bow ? The ayre is pleasant here : The grasse doth spring , the birds doe sing : For Gods sake come not neare . Death . Oh weak of faith I see you are , Consider and know what David doth show , In the sixt Psalme his sayings are , as thus it doth begin : Good Lord in rage rebuke me not , When thy displeasure is waxen hot , For then we must needs go to the pot , as herbs that be put in . Crie mercie then , you fillie men . For wonderous weake you bee : You are perplexed , your bones are vexed , As far as I can see . Life . O Lord our Soules are troubled sore , Release our grief , and send reliefe , Have mercy as thou hadst before , forgive our sinnes and save our lives . Or else it little doth availe , For death doth follow us at the tayle , O let thy mercy still prevaile , saue us like Bees in hives . And thus we knowe it needes must go , That thou maist have thy will : Thou hast met us heere , as doth appeere , Which thought to have lived still . Death . Is not Iehova your chiefe defence ? For under his wings he keepes all things , Then what have you need to run from hence , if that your faith were strong ? Though the ayre be fresh , and fields be greene , And goodly fruites which you esteeme , Yet I can come when least you deeme , and lay you all along . On Christ be bolde , to take your holde , Your anchour-holde is hee , None other may , this pestilence stay , But all must come to mee . Life . Alas our flesh is fraile to see , When Christ did grone , and make such mone , Besides the mount of Calvarie , when thou approched'st neere : And there did sweate both water and bloud , And suffered death to do us good , These things of thee are understood , t was seene that thou wa'st there . At last did hee , both sinne and thee , Tread downe and conquer too , Which faith of his , if we should misse , Alas what should we doe ? Death . I come not everie way a like , Three darts in band , I hold in hand , The first is warre , when I do strike , in other Countries farre , And I thinke all Belgia quakes at mee , And Spaine you know hath not gone free , 'T is much to speake of each Countrey , for I turne them all to dust . And here the rest shall be exprest , Of two darts more in store , Of Famins power , which doth devoure Whole regions more and more . Life . Then the dart of Pestilence at the last , Takes all in store , were left before , Oh spare us Lord , wee le pray and fast , and all our sinnes repent : Vouchsafe to stay , sweet Christ thy hand , Vpon this sinfull English land , And give us grace to understand , these dangers to prevent . 'T is time to pray , that he away , His indignation take : Lord grant us grace , in everie place , Petitions for to make . FINIS .