<!DOCTYPE ETS PUBLIC "-//UMDLPS//DTD EEBOPROOF 2.0//EN">
<ETS>
<TEMPHEAD>
<REVDESCR>
<CHANGE>
<DATE>2012-10-18</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Susie Lorand</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Checklist: x Add TEMPHEAD, change DATE, validate x Add DIV TYPEs, validate x Review structure, use BODY or rarely GROUP x Check PB placement and completeness, ensure sequence of N="" x Proof title page(s) x Check HEAD TRAILER ARGUMENT EPIGRAPH OPENER CLOSER SIGNED SALUTE BYLINE x Check ^, oe, abq, italic I / J, _Initials, space between &amp;c. [and in blackletter, abper, abpro, abis...] x Check # @ -- UNCLEAR LB FIGURE ABBR GAP x Check q; startq endq Q x Correct errors from proofsheet x Correct illegibles from proofsheet x Check illegible page, para, line, span, word, dollar signs x Final validate Corrected [ ] illegible groups out of [ ]. Converted [ 4 ] illegible groups to GAP DESC="illegible". DONE</ITEM>
</CHANGE>
</REVDESCR>
</TEMPHEAD>
<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B07684">
<STC T="S">11403</STC>
<STC T="C">S92602</STC>
<BIBNO T="oclc">[ocm]72799120</BIBNO>
<VID>184044</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<FRONT>
<DIV1 TYPE="title page">
<PB REF="1">
<PB REF="2" MS="y">
<PB REF="2">
<P>THE GREAT FROST.</P>
<P>Cold doings in London, except it be at the LOTTERIE.</P>
<P>With Newes out of the Country.</P>
<P><HI>A familiar talke betwene a Country-man and</HI> a Citizen touching this terrible Fro&s;t and the great Lotterie, and the effects of them.</P>
<P>The De&s;cription of the Thames frozen ouer.</P>
<P><FIGURE>
<FIGDESC>Londoners upon the frozen Thames</FIGDESC>
</FIGURE></P>
<P>Printed at London for <HI>Henry Go&s;son,</HI> and are to be &s;old at the &s;igne of the <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="UOM" EXTENT="1 span"></P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="table of contents">
<PB REF="3">
<HEAD>&leaf; <HI>A Table of the mo&s;t</HI> &s;pe|ciall matters of note contained in this &s;hort Di&s;cour&s;e.</HEAD>
<LIST>
<ITEM>1. A de&s;cription of the Thames being fro|zen ouer.</ITEM>
<ITEM>2. The daungers that hath happened to &s;ome per&s;ons pa&s;sing vpon the Thames.</ITEM>
<ITEM>3. The harmes that this Fro&s;t hath done to the Citie.</ITEM>
<ITEM>4. The mi&s;erie that the Country people are driuen into by the meanes of this Fro&s;t.</ITEM>
<ITEM>5. The Fro&s;ts in other Kings times compa|pared vvith this.</ITEM>
<ITEM>6. A de&s;cription of the Lottery.</ITEM>
</LIST>
</DIV1>
</FRONT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="dialogue">
<PB REF="3">
<HEAD>THE GREAT FROST. Cold doings in London. <HI>A Dialogue.</HI></HEAD>
<LIST>
<HEAD>The &s;peakers.</HEAD>
<ITEM><HI>A Citizen.</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>A Country-man.</HI></ITEM>
</LIST>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Citizen.</SPEAKER>
<P>_OLd Father, you are mo&s;t hartily welcome to <HI>London.</HI></P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countryman.</SPEAKER>
<P>Sir, I giue you mo&s;t kinde and heartie thankes: but you mu&s;t par|don me; I am an olde man, &amp; haue tho&s;e defects that go a long with olde age; I haue both bad eyes to di&s;cerne my friends and a weake memorie to keepe their names in minde: I haue quite lo&s;t the remembrance of you.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>Nay Father, I am a m&eacute;ere &s;tranger to you. But &s;&eacute;eing white haires to couer your head as well as mine owne, I make bold to reach out my hand to you: there is hone&s;tie in your verie lookes, and euery hone&s;t man is worthy, and ought to be taken into acquaintance.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<PB REF="4">
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>I am beholden to you for this curte&s;&s;e: you Ci|tizens are ciuill, and wee poore country fellowes are plaine, but albeit I walke in ru&s;&s;et and cour&s;e gray, I haue a true heart. What is your plea&s;ure Sir?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Citt.</SPEAKER>
<P>If your ha&s;te be no greater then mine (for ble&s;|&s;ed be God, we haue now too many idle howres again&s;t our will.) I would gladly confer with you of the &s;tate of the Country, and if I can delight you with any Citie newes, you &s;hall haue my bo&s;ome opened fr&eacute;ely.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>The Plough-mans hands Sir are now held in his pocket as well as the Shop-k&eacute;epers: I haue as little to doe as you, and therefore an houres that &s;hall plea&s;e me well: wee olde men are old Chronicles, and when our tongues goe, they are not clockes to tell one|ly the time pre&s;ent, but large, bookes vncla&s;ped, and our &s;p&eacute;eches, like leaues turnd ouer and ouer, di&s;couer won|ders that are long &s;ince pa&s;t.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>I am glad that I haue met with an olde man that hath not &s;tood &s;till in his life (like a poole) but like a Riuer hath runne through the world to get experience. But I pray tell me, of what Country are you?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>Of Rippon in Yorke&s;hire.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>And (if it he not too much beyond the rule of good manners.) let me be bold to inquire what drew you, dwelling &s;o farre off, to trauell to London?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>Marry Sir I will tell you, euen that drew me to London, which drawes you out of your hou&s;es: that which makes you cry out in London, <HI>Wee haue cold doings,</HI> and to leaue your &s;hops to catch you heate in the &s;tr&eacute;etes, nay to leaue your new beautifull walks in Moore-fields, (for tho&s;e I haue &s;&eacute;ene at my entring into the Citie) and to make newer and larger walkes (though not &s;o &s;afe) vpon a field of gla&s;&s;e as it were. That &s;lippery world which I beheld (as I remember) in the fift yeare of the raigne of Qu&eacute;ene <HI>Elizabeth,</HI> (or I am &s;ure I am not much wide) doe I come thus far to
<PB REF="4"> behold againe in the fift yeare of our good King <HI>Iames,</HI> &amp; that is (in a few cold words) thethames frozen ouer.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>Yea Father, and frozen ouer and ouer.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cou.</SPEAKER>
<P>I haue but two eares Sir (if I had more I were a mon&s;ter) but tho&s;e two eares bring me home a thou|&s;and tales in le&s;&s;e then &s;euen daies. Some I harken to, &s;ome I &s;hake my head at, &s;ome I &s;mile at, &s;ome I think true, &s;ome I know fal&s;e. But becau&s;e this world is like our Millers in the Country, knaui&s;h and hard to be tru|&s;ted, though mine eares be mine owne and good, yet I had rather giue credite to mine eyes: although they &s;&eacute;e but badly, yet I know they will not co&s;en me, they haue not the&s;e foure&s;core yeares, and that is the rea&s;on I haue made them my guides now in this iourney, and they &s;hall bee my witne&s;&s;es when I get home againe, and &s;it, as I hope I &s;hall, turning a crab by the fire<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="UOM" EXTENT="1 letter">) of what wonders I haue b&eacute;ene a beholder.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>In good &s;adnes Father I am proud, that &s;uch a heape of yeares lying on your back, you &s;toup no lower for them; I come &s;hort of you by more than twenty, and me thinkes I am both more vnlu&s;ty, &amp; looke more aged.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cou.</SPEAKER>
<P>Oh Sir, riots, riots, &s;urfets, &s;urfets &s;tick white haires vpon young mens chinnes, when &s;paring diets hold colour. Your cramd Capons f&eacute;ede you fat here in London, but our b&eacute;efe and bacon f&eacute;edes vs &s;trong in the Country: long &s;t&eacute;epes and late watchings, dry vp your bloods, &amp; wither your ch&eacute;eks; we go to bed with the lambe, and ri&s;e with the larke, which makes our bloods healthfull: you are &s;till &s;ending to the Apothecaries, and &s;till crying out; to fetch Mai&s;ter Doctortor to mee,, but our Pottecaries &s;hoppe is our garden full of pot-hearbes, and our Doctor is, a good cloue of garlicke. I am as lu&s;tie and &s;ound at heart (I prai&s;e my God) as my yoake of bullockes that are the &s;eruants to my Plough.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>Yet I wonder that hauing no more &s;and in the
<PB REF="5"> the gla&s;&s;e of your life (for yong men may reckon years, but we old men mu&s;t coumpt vpon minutes,) I wonder I &s;ay how you dur&s;t &s;et forth, and how you could come thus farre.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>How I dur&s;t &s;et forth? If King <HI>Harry</HI> were now aliue againe, I dur&s;t and would (as old and &s;tiffe as I am, goe with him to <HI>Bullen.</HI> We haue tr&eacute;es in our Towne that beare fruit in winter: I am one of tho&s;e winter plums, &amp; though I ta&s;te a little &s;ower, yet I am &s;ound at hart, &amp; &s;hal not rot yet I hope, for all this fro&s;t.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>It were pitty &s;o reuerend an Oake &s;hould &s;o &s;oone be felled downe, you may &s;tand and grow yet ma|ny a yeare.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>Yes &s;ir, downward, downward you and I mu&s;t grow (like eares of corne when they be ripe.) But I be&s;&eacute;ech you tell me; Is that goodly Riuer of yours, I call it yours, becau&s;e you are a Citizen, (and that Riuer is the Nur&s;e that giues milke &amp; hony to your citie: But is that Lady of fre&s;h waters all couered ouer with ice?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>All ouer I a&s;&s;ure you Father: the Fro&s;t hath made a floore vpon it, which &s;hewes like gray Marble, roughly hewen out: it is a very pauement of gla&s;&s;e, but that it is more &s;trong. The Thames now lies in, or ra|ther is turned (as &s;ome thinke) bankerupt, and dares not &s;hew her head; for all the water of it floates vp and downe now like a &s;pring-tide in a celler.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>God helpe the poore Fi&s;hes; it is a hard world with them, when their hou&s;es are taken ouer their heads, they v&s;e not to lye vnder &s;uch thicke roofes. But I pray &s;ir, are all the arches of your famous London Bridge &s;o damd vp with yce, that the flakes &s;hew like &s;o many frozen gates, &s;hut vp clo&s;e, and that nothing pa&s;&s;es through them, nay, that a man cannot looke through them as he had wont?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>No &s;uch matter: the Thames with her ebbing &amp; flowing hath at &s;undry times broght downe hay, win|terca&s;tles
<PB REF="5"> of yee, which iu&s;tling again&s;t the arches of the Bridge, and &s;triueing (like an vnruly Drunkard at a gate of the Citie in the night time) to pa&s;&s;e through, haue there bin &s;tayed and lodged &s;o long, till they haue lyen in heapes and got one vpon another, but not &s;o am|bitiou&s;ly as you &s;peake of them.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countri.</SPEAKER>
<P>And doe not the We&s;terne-Barges come downe vpon certaine artificiall pullies and engines, &s;liding on the yce, to &s;erue your Citie with fewell.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Citti.</SPEAKER>
<P>That were a wonder worth &s;&eacute;eing, and more &s;trange than the rowing ouer &s;t&eacute;eples by lande in a wherry; no I a&s;&s;ure you, the&s;e &s;tories &s;hall neuer &s;tand in our Chronicles: there is no &s;uch motion.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>But I hope Sir you &amp; I may drink a pinte of &s;ack in the Tauern that runs vpon wh&eacute;els on the riuer, a&s;wel as a thou&s;and haue done be&s;ides, may we not? the motio~ of that wine-celler <HI>I</HI> am &s;ure is to be &s;&eacute;en, is it not?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>The water-celler is, but the wine-cellers haue too good doings on the land, to leaue that, and to &s;et vp Tauernes on the Riuer; you know more in the Coun|try I perceiue then we doe in the Citie of the&s;e matters.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Count.</SPEAKER>
<P>Nay Sir, we heare more, but know le&s;&s;e: we heare the lyes, and you know the trueth: why law you now, had not I made this iourney to <HI>London,</HI> I had died in mi&s;-beliefe: mine eare might thus haue made me to haue b&eacute;ene called olde doting foole: for I giuing cre|dite to report, &s;hould haue vttered the&s;e fables for trueths; and I being an olde man, &s;hould haue b&eacute;ene bel&eacute;eued, (for a white head ought not to hold a blacke tongue;) and &s;o my &s;onnes and daughters (taking a fathers word) might peraduenture forty yeares hence, haue b&eacute;ene called clownes, for iu&s;tifying a lye &s;o mon|&s;trous and incredible.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Citti.</SPEAKER>
<P>Barre all the&s;e rumors hereafter out of your eares, for they are fal&s;e and deceitful, &amp; flie vp &amp; downe like Lapwings, their in times being there it is, when it is not.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<PB REF="6">
<SPEAKER>Coun</SPEAKER>
<P>You Sir are a man, that by your head and beard (as well as my &s;elfe) &s;hould bee one of <HI>Times</HI> Sonnes, and &s;hould therefore loue his daughter <HI>Truth.</HI> Make me &s;o much beholding to you, as to receiue from you the right Picture of all this your Water-workes; and how they began, and how they haue growne, and in what fa&s;hion continued?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Citi.</SPEAKER>
<P><NOTE PLACE="marg">The Thames de|&s;cribed as it was Frozen.</NOTE> Mo&s;t gladly will I &s;ati&s;fie your reque&s;t. You &s;hall vnder&s;tand therefore that the <HI>Thames</HI> began to put on his <HI>Freeze-coote</HI> (which yet he weares) about the weeke before <HI>Chri&s;tmas,</HI> and hath kept it on till now this latter end of <HI>Ianuarij,</HI> howe long time &s;oeuer be|&s;ides to come, none but God knowes.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>Did it neuer thawe in thus many weekes?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Citizen.</SPEAKER>
<P>Onely thr&eacute;e dayes, or foure at the mo&s;t, and that but weakely to di&s;olue &s;o great a hardne&s;&s;e. The Cakes of I&s;e (great quantitie, and in great numbers) were made &amp; baked cold in the mouth of winter, at the lea&s;t a fortnight or thr&eacute;e w&eacute;ekes, before they were cru|&s;ted &amp; creme~ted togither; but after they once ioynd their &s;tre~gths in one, their backsheld out &amp; cold not be broke~.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>We may make this good v&s;e euen out of this watry and tran&s;formed element; that <HI>London</HI> vphold|eth a &s;tate; and againe, that violent factions and com|binations (albeit of the ba&s;e&s;t per&s;ons) in a Common|wealth, are not ea&s;ily di&s;olued, if once they bee &s;uffered to grow vp to a head. On Sir I pray.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>This cold breakfa&s;t being giuen to the Citie, &amp; the <HI>Thames</HI> growing more &amp; more hard-harted, wylde youthes and boyes were the fir&s;t Marchant-venturers that &s;et out to di&s;couer the&s;e cold Ilandes of I&s;e vpon the Riuer. <NOTE PLACE="marg">Fir&s;t going ouer the Thames on the Ice a|bout Cold-Harbour.</NOTE> And the fir&s;t path that was beaten forth, to pa&s;&s;e to the <HI>Banck-&s;ide</HI> (with out going ouer <HI>Bridge,</HI> or by Boate) was about <HI>Cold-Harbour,</HI> and in tho&s;e places neere the <HI>Bridge;</HI> for the Tydes &s;till plying vp the flakes of I&s;e one vpon another in tho&s;e places of the <HI>Thames.</HI>
<PB REF="6"> it was held the be&s;t and the &s;afe&s;t trauelling into our new found Fr&eacute;ezeland, by tho&s;e cr&eacute;ekes.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>But this on&s;et pro&s;pering, and they comming offwell, hartened others to come on Sir, did it not?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>No &s;ouldiers more de&s;perate to a &s;kirmi&s;h: &s;peak it Father from my mouth for an a&s;&s;ured trueth; that there was as it were an artificiall bridge of yce rea|ching from one &s;ide of the Riuer to the other, vppon which infinite numbers of people pa&s;&s;ed too and fro, iu|&s;tling one an other in crowdes, when the current of the water ran (in &s;ight) more than halfe the breadth of the Thames, on eyther &s;ide of y^e ycecy bridge, the bridge it &s;elfe being not aboue fiue yardes broad, (if &s;o much.)</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cou.</SPEAKER>
<P>It was &s;trange! But it was &s;aid of your Lon|doners, that when you &s;triue to be kind, you turne into prodigals; when you are cowards, you are arrant cow|ards, and when you are bold, you are too de&s;perately venturous.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>It appeares &s;o by this fro&s;t: for no danger could nip their bloods with feare; but ouer &s;ome we~t in &s;hoals when thou&s;ands &s;tood gazing on and &s;wore, they would not follow their &s;teppes in that waterie wilderne&s;&s;e for many thou&s;ands of pounds: nay, euen many of tho&s;e that were the di&s;couerers, and did fir&s;t venture ouer, would neuer vndertake the &s;econd voyage, but prote|&s;ted when they were halfe way, they would haue lo&s;t much to haue bin againe on &s;hore.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>It is mo&s;t likely, for perills that are not com|mon make men foole-hardy, but being once ta&s;ted, they tremble to come n&eacute;ere them.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>You &s;ay true Father; but the feare of this &s;hip|wracke, and of the&s;e rockes, grew eueryday le&s;&s;e and le&s;&s;e, as the yce increa&s;ed in hardne&s;&s;e, &s;o mens hearts increa&s;ed in hardine&s;&s;e: &s;o that at the length, (the fro&s;t knitting all his &s;inewes together, and the incon&s;tant water (by that meanes) being of a floating element,
<PB REF="7"> changed into a firme ground as it were) <NOTE PLACE="marg">What num|bers of peo|ple wal|ked on the Thames.</NOTE> both men, women, and children walked ouer, and vp and downe in &s;uch companies, that I verily bel&eacute;eue, and I dare al|mo&s;t &s;weare it, the one halfe (if not thr&eacute;e parts) of the people in the Citie, haue b&eacute;ene &s;&eacute;ene going on the Thames. The Riuer &s;hewed not now (neither &s;hewes it yet) like a Riuer, but like a field where Archers &s;hoote at prickes, whil&s;t others play at foote-ball. It is a place of mai&s;terie, where &s;ome wre&s;tle, and &s;ome runne, and he that does be&s;t is apte&s;t to take a fall. It is an Alley to walke vpon without dread, albeit vnder it be mo&s;t a&s;&s;ured daunger. The Gentlewomen that trembles to pa&s;&s;e ouer a Bridge in the field, doth here walke bold|ly: the Citizens wife that lookes pale when &s;he &s;its in a boate for feare of drowning, thinkes that here &s;hee treades as &s;afe now as in her Parlour: Of all ages, of all &s;exes, of all profe&s;&s;ions this is the common path: it is the roade way betw&eacute;ene London and We&s;tmin|&s;ter, and betw&eacute;ene South-warke and London. Would you drinke a cuppe of &s;acke Father? there &s;tand &s;ome with Rundlets to fill it out.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countri.</SPEAKER>
<P>Ah ha, thats the Tauerne then is tal|ked on.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P><NOTE PLACE="marg">Beere, Ale, wine, victu|alls, and fiers on the Thames.</NOTE> Thir&s;t you for B&eacute;ere, Ale, V&s;quibath, &amp;c. or for victualls? there you may buy it, becau&s;e you may tell an other day how you dined vppon the Thames. Are you colde with going ouer? you &s;hall ere you come to the mid&s;t of the Riuer, &s;pie &s;ome ready with pannes of coales to warme your fingers. If you want fruite after you haue dined, there &s;tands Co&s;termon|gers to &s;erue you at your call. And thus doe people leaue their hou&s;es and the &s;tr&eacute;etes, turning the goodli|e&s;t Riuer in the whole Kingdome, into the broade&s;t-&s;tr&eacute;ete to walke in.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>But tell mee I pray Sir, if all the merchants that vndertake this voyage to the&s;e your narrow &s;eas,
<PB REF="7"> are none vndone? doe none of your fre&s;h-water &s;ouldi|ers mi&s;carry, &amp; drop downe in the&s;e &s;lipperie Mar&s;hes?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>Yes Sir, I haue heard of many, and haue b&eacute;ene an eye witne&s;&s;e of &s;ome: of all which, I will be &s;paring in report, being rather willing to be reprehended for tel|ling too little, then for di&s;couering too much.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>It is a mode&s;tie well becomes any man, al|beit nothing but trueth &s;it vpon his tongue. But I pray &s;ithence you cracke the &s;hell, let vs &s;&eacute;e what kernell there is within it: &s;ithence you haue be&s;towed the &s;w&eacute;et, let me ta&s;te the &s;ower, let your newes be as Country-folkes bringing fruit to your markets, the bad and the good togither: &s;ay, haue none gone we&s;tward for &s;melts (as our prouerbiall phra&s;e is?)</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Citti.</SPEAKER>
<P><NOTE PLACE="marg">The harmes that haue fallen on &s;e|uerall per|&s;ons going on the Thames.</NOTE> Yes, it hath beene a kinde of battaile for the time, for &s;ome haue fallen in vp to the kn&eacute;es, others to the middle, others to the arme-pittes, yea and &s;ome haue b&eacute;ene ducked ouer head and eares, yet haue craw|led out like drowned Rats, whiles others haue &s;uncke to the bottome that neuer ro&s;e againe to the top: they had a cold bed to lye in. Among&s;t many other mi&s;for|tunes that are to bee pittied, this is one; A couple of friendes &s;hooting on the Thames with birding-p&eacute;eces, it happened they &s;trooke a Sea-pie, or &s;ome other fowle, they both ran to catch it, the one &s;tumbled forward, his head &s;lipt into a d&eacute;epe hole, and there was hee drownd: the other (in his ha&s;te) &s;lipt backward, &amp; by that meanes &s;aued his life. A poore fellow likewi&s;e hauing heated his body with drinke, thought belike to coole it on the water: but comming to walke on the Ice, his head was too heauy for his h&eacute;eles, &s;o that downe he fell, and there pre&s;ently died.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>Let his fall giue others warning how to &s;tand. Your Citie cannot choo&s;e but bee much damnified by this &s;trange congealing of the Riuer.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Citti.</SPEAKER>
<P>Exceeding much (Father) &s;traungers may
<PB REF="8"> ge&s;&s;e at our harmes; yet none can giue the full num|ber of them but wee that are the inhabitants: <NOTE PLACE="marg">The hurt that the Ci|tie hath re|ceiued by this Fro&s;t.</NOTE> for the Citie by this meanes is cut off from all comerce: Shop-k&eacute;epers may &s;it and a&s;ke what doe you lacke, when the pa&s;&s;engers may very well reply, what doe you lacke your &s;elues: they may &s;it and &s;tare on men, but not &s;it and &s;ell: it was (before) called The dead Terme, and now may wee call this, The dead Vacation, The frozen Vacation, The cold Vacation. If it be a Gen|tlemans life to liue idlely, and doe nothing, how ma|ny poore Artificers and Trade&s;-men haue b&eacute;ene made Gentlemen then by this Fro&s;t? For a number of Oc|cupations (like the flakes of yce that lye in the Thames) are by this malice of Winter, trod cleane vnder foote, and will not yet bee able to &s;tirre. Alas poore Watermen, you haue had cold ch&eacute;ere at this ban|quet: you that liue altogether vpon water, can now &s;carce get water to your hands: it is a hard thing now for you to earne your bread with the &s;weate of your browes.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>This beating may make them wi&s;e, the want that this hard &s;ea&s;on driues them into, may teach them to play the Ants, and in Sommer to make a proui&s;ion again&s;t the wrath of Winter. There is no mi&s;chiefe borne alone I know; calamities commonly are (by birth) twinnes: me thinks therefore, y^t this drying vp of the waters, &s;hould be a deuourer vp of wood: this colde Ague of the earth mu&s;t needes haue warmth to helpe it&punc; that warmth mu&s;t come from fier, and that fier cannot be had without co&s;t: how then I pray you in this &s;o ge|nerall an affliction, did poore people &s;hift for fewell to comfort them?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Citti.</SPEAKER>
<P><NOTE PLACE="marg">The want of fire.</NOTE> Their care for fier was as great as for foode: nay, to want it was a wor&s;e torment then to bee with|out meate: the belly was now pinched to haue the bo|dy warmed: and had not the Prouident Fathers of
<PB REF="8"> this Citie (carefully, charitably, and out of a good and godly zeale) di&s;per&s;ed a reliefe to the poore, in &s;euerall partes and places about the outer bounds of the Citie, where pouertie mo&s;t inhabiteth) by &s;toring them before hand with Seacoale and other fiering at a rea&s;onable rate, I verily per&s;wade my &s;elfe, that the vncon|&s;cionable and vnmercifull rai&s;ing of the prices of few|ell by Chandlers, Wood-mongers, &amp;c. (who now meant to lay the poore on the Racke) would haue b&eacute;ene the death of many a wretched creature through the want of &s;uccour.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>Not vnlikely Sir.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>For neither could coale be brought vp the Ri|uer, neither could wood be &s;ent downe. The We&s;terne Barges might now wrap vp their &s;moakie Sayles, for albeit they had neuer &s;o loftie a gale, their voyage was &s;poyld, the windes was with them, but the tide was cleane again&s;t them. And not onely hath this fro&s;t nipt away tho&s;e comforts that &s;hould reuiue the out|ward parts of the body, but tho&s;e al&s;o that &s;hould giue &s;trength and life to the inward. <NOTE PLACE="marg">Darth of victualls.</NOTE> For you of the Coun|try being not able to trauel to the Citie with victualls, the price of victuall mu&s;t of nece&s;&s;ity be enhaunced, and victuall it&s;elfe brought into a &s;carcitie. And thus haue I giuen you (according to your reque&s;t) a true picture of our Thames frozen ouer, and withall haue drawne in as liuely colours as I can (to my &s;kill) as it were in a little Table, all the mi&s;eries, mi&s;chiefes, and inconue|niences, which this hard time hath throwne vpon our Citie.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>Sir, you haue &s;ati&s;fied me to the full, and haue giuen vnto me &s;o good a ta&s;te of your loue, that if I &s;hould liue double the yeares that are alreadie &s;cored on my head, I cannot choo&s;e but die indebted to your kindne&s;&s;e.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cit.</SPEAKER>
<P>Not &s;o Father, for you &s;hall if you plea&s;e come
<PB REF="9"> out of my debt pre&s;ently, and your payment &s;hallbe in the &s;elft-&s;ame coyne, that you receiued of me, (that is to &s;ay wordes.)</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countriman.</SPEAKER>
<P>I am glad Sir, you will take a poore country-mans worde for &s;o round a &s;umme as I ac|knowledge is owing to you: you are a mercifull Creditor; GOD &s;end mee allwayes to deale with &s;uch Chapmen. But how will you &s;et downe my payments?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Citi.</SPEAKER>
<P>Mary thus Father: As I haue di&s;couered vn|to you, what colde doings wee haue had (during this Fro&s;t) in the Citie, &s;o I pray let me vnder&s;tand from you, what kinde of worlde you haue liued in in the Country.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P><NOTE PLACE="marg">Newes out of the Country.</NOTE> The worlde with vs of the Country, runnes vpon the old rotten wh&eacute;eles: for all the Northern cloth that is wouen in our Country, will &s;carce make a Gowne to keepe Charitie warme, &s;he goes &s;o a cold. Rich men had neuer more money, and Couetou&s;ne&s;&s;e had neuer le&s;&s;e pittie: there was neuer in any age more mony &s;tirring, nor neuer more &s;tir to gette mony. Far+mers are now &s;laues to racking yong prodigall la~dlords, tho&s;e Landlords, are more &s;eruile &s;laues to their owne Riots and Luxurie. But the&s;e are the common di&s;ea|&s;es of euery Kingdome and therefore are but common newes. The tunes of the Nightingale are &s;tale in the midle of Sommer, becau&s;e we heare them at the com|ming in of the Spring, and &s;o the&s;e har&s;h notes which are &s;ung euerie day in euerie Countrie, do (be cu&s;tome) grow not to be regarded. But your de&s;ire Sir is, to know how we &s;pend the daies of this our Frozen age in the Country.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittizen.</SPEAKER>
<P>That I would heare ind&eacute;ede Fa|ther.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Coun.</SPEAKER>
<P>Bel&eacute;eue mee Sir, as wickedly you mu&s;t thinke as you can heare in your Citie. It goes as
<PB REF="9"> hard with vs as it doeth with you. <NOTE PLACE="marg">The mi&s;e|ries that Country people feele by this fro&s;t</NOTE> The &s;ame colde hand of Winter is thru&s;t into our bo&s;omes, the &s;ame &s;harpe ayre &s;trikes woundes into our bodies: the &s;ame Sunne &s;hines vppon vs, but the &s;ame Sunne doeth not heate vs no more then it doeth you. The poore Plough-mans children &s;it crying and blowing their nayles, as lamentably as the children and &s;er|uants of your poore Artificers. Hunger pinches their ch&eacute;ekes as deepe into the fle&s;h, as it doeth into yours here. You cry out here, you are vndone for coale, and wee complaine, wee &s;hall dye for want of Wood. All your care is to prouide for your Wiues, children and &s;eruants, in this time of &s;adne&s;&s;e: but w&eacute;e goe beyond you in cares; not onely our wiues, our children, and hou&s;hold &s;eruants, are vnto vs a cau&s;e of &s;orrowe, but w&eacute;e greeue as much to be|holde the mi&s;erie of our poore Cattell (in this fro|zen-hearted &s;ea&s;on) as it doeth to looke vppon our owne affliction. Our bea&s;tes are our faithfull &s;er|uants, and doe their labour truely when wee &s;et them to it, they are our Nur&s;es that giue vs milke, they are our guides in our iourneyes, they are our partners, and helpe to enrich our &s;tate; yea, they are the verie vp-holders of a poore Farmers landes and liuings. Alas then, what Mai&s;ter that loues his &s;eruant as he ought, but would almo&s;t breake his owne heart-&s;tringes with fighing, to &s;&eacute;e the&s;e pine and mourne as they doe? The ground is bare, and not worth a poore handfull of gra&s;&s;e. The earth &s;&eacute;emes barren, and beares nothing, or if &s;hee doeth, mo&s;t vnnaturally &s;he kills it pre&s;ently, or &s;uffers it through cold to peri&s;h. By which meanes the lu&s;ty hor&s;e abates his fle&s;h, and hangs the head, f&eacute;eling his &s;trength goe from him: the Oxe &s;tands bellowing: the ragged Sh&eacute;epe bleeting: the poore Lambe &s;hiuering and &s;tar|uing to death.</P>
<PB REF="10">
<P>The poore Cottager that hath but a Cowe to liue vp|on, mu&s;t feed vpon hungry meales (God knows) when the bea&s;t her &s;elfe hath but a bare Commons. He that is not able to bid all his Cattle home, and to fea&s;t them with Fodder out of his Barnes, will &s;carce haue Cat|tell at the end of Sommer to fetch home his Harue&s;t. Which charge of feeding &s;o many bea&s;tly mouthes, is able to eate vp a Country-mans e&s;tate, if his proui|dence before time hath not bin the greater to meet and preuent &s;uch &s;tormes. Of nece&s;&s;ity our Sheep Oxen &amp;c. mu&s;t be in danger of fami&s;hing, (hauing nothing but what our old grandam the earth will alowe them to liue vpon) of nece&s;&s;itie mu&s;t they pyne, &s;cithence all the fruits that had wont to &s;pring out of her fertile womb, are now nipt in their birth, and likely neuer to pro&s;per. And to proue that the Ground hath her very heart (as it were) broken, and that &s;he hath not liuely &s;ap enough in her vaines left as yet to quicken her, and to rai&s;e her vp to &s;trength: behold, this one infallible token. The Leeke, who&s;e courage hath euer binne &s;o vndaunted, that he hath borne vp his lu&s;tie head in all &s;tormes; and could neuer be compelled to &s;hrinke, for Hayle, Snow, Fro&s;tes, nor &s;howres; is nowe by the violence and cruelty of this Weather, beaten into the earth, being rotted, dead, di&s;graced and trode vpon.</P>
<P>And thus (Sir) if wordes may bee taken for cur|rant payment (to a Creditor &s;o worthy as your &s;elfe) haue I tendred &s;ome part of my loue in requitall of yours. You gaue vnto mee a Mappe of your Citie as it &s;tandes nowe in the Fro&s;t, and I be&s;towed vppon you a Moddell of the Country, which I pray receiue with as friendly a hand, as that is which of|fers it.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Citiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>I doe, with millions of thankes. The &s;torie which you told (albeit it yet makes my hart bleede to think vpon the calamities of my poore Country-men)
<PB REF="10"> yet was it vttered with &s;o graue a iudgement, and in a time &s;o well befitting your age, that I kept mine eares open, and my lippes locked vp; for I was loth to interrupt you, till all was told: wherein you &s;hew your &s;elfe to bee a care|full and hone&s;t debter, in di&s;charging your bond all at one &s;umme, when you might haue done it in &s;euerall payments. But I pray you Father, what is your opinion of this &s;trange Winter? I call you Father, albeit my owne head be whitened by old age, as well as yours: and bee not an|gry that I doe &s;o, it is an honourable title due vnto your y&eacute;eres: for as tho&s;e that are young men to me, be&s;tow that dignitie vpon my &s;iluer haires, (and I am proud to take it) &s;o would I not haue you di&s;dayne that attribute from my mouth, (that am a young man to you) &s;ithence I doe it out of loue and the reuerence I beare to my Elders. Tell mee therefore, I pray, your iudgement, of this Fro&s;t, and what (in the &s;choole of your experience) you haue read, or can remember, may be the effects, which it may produce, or which (of con&s;equence) are likely to follow vpon it.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P><NOTE PLACE="marg">The dan|gers that a thaw is like to bring with it.</NOTE> I &s;hall doe my be&s;t to &s;ati&s;fie you: When the&s;e great Hilles of yce &s;hall be digged downe, and be made le|uell with the waters; when the&s;e hard rockes &s;hall melt in|to &s;oft riuers, and that a &s;udden thaw &s;hall ouercome this &s;harpe Fro&s;t, then is it to be feared, that the &s;wift, violent and vnre&s;i&s;table Land-currents, will beare downe Brid|ges, beate downe Buildings, ouerflow our Corne-fieldes, ouer-runne the Pa&s;tures, drowne our Cattell, and endan|ger the liues both of man and bea&s;t, trauailing on their way.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>You &s;ay right: This Progno&s;tication which yuur iudgement thus lookes into, did alwayes fall out to be too true. But what other Weather doeth your Calender promi&s;e</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P>I will not hide within me from you, that time and ob&s;eruation haue taught mee. And albeit it may ap|peare &s;traunge vnto you, that an old Country Penny-fa|ther,
<PB REF="11">
<GAP DESC="duplicate" EXTENT="1 page">
<PB REF="11">
<GAP DESC="duplicate" EXTENT="1 page">
<PB REF="12"> (a plaine holland ruffe, and a kerzie &s;tocking) &s;hould talke thus of the change of &s;ea&s;ons, and the mutabilities of the world. Yet S. know I be&s;eech you that my education was finer then my Ru&s;&s;et out&s;ide, and that my parents did not only prouide to leaue me &s;omthing, but tooke care (a|boue that tan&s;itorie ble&s;&s;ing) that I &s;hould ta&s;t a little of the fruite of learning and knowledge.</P>
<P>It will be a plea&s;ing and profitable iourney to our coun|treymen though a laborious voiage for you.</P>
<P><NOTE PLACE="marg">King Willi|am Ruphus</NOTE> I haue read how in the raigne of king <HI>William Ruphus</HI> (in the fift yeare as I remember) that Riuers of this king|dome were &s;o frozen ouer, that carts and waines laden, did without danger pa&s;&s;e ouer them.</P>
<P><NOTE PLACE="marg">King Iohn.</NOTE> In the &s;ixth yeare of the raigne of King <HI>Iohn,</HI>a fro&s;t be|gan vpon the 13. of Ianuary, and continued till the 22. of March following, the earth by meanes of this being &s;o hardned, that the plow lay &s;till, and the ground could not be tilled. The wounds that this fro&s;t gaue the common wealth were for that pre&s;ent &s;carce felt, they were not deepe, they were thought not dangerous. But in the &s;ommer following did they fre&s;hly begin to bleede, for then a quarter of wheat was &s;olde for a marke, which in the raigne of <HI>Henry</HI> the &s;e|cond (before him) was &s;olde for no more then 12. pence.</P>
<P><NOTE PLACE="marg">king Henry</NOTE> There was likewi&s;e &s;o great a fro&s;t in the 53. yeare of the raigne of <HI>Henry</HI> the third, that being at Saint An|drewes tide, it continued till Candelmas. So that men &amp; bea&s;ts went ouer the Thames from Lambeth to We&s;t|min&s;ter, and the goodes of Merchants not being able to be tran&s;ported by water, were caried from Sandwich and o|ther hauens, and &s;o brought to London by land. But no extraordinary or memorable accident following or going before this fro&s;t, I will pa&s;&s;e ouer it, and come to that fro&s;ty &s;ea&s;on in the tenth yeare of <HI>Edward</HI> the fir&s;t, who&s;e violent working was &s;o cruell, and did build &s;uch ca&s;tles of Ile vp|on the Thames &amp; other Riuers, that fiue arches of Londo~ bridge were borne downe, &amp; all Roche&s;terbridge was caried
<PB REF="12"> cleane away, with diuers others.</P>
<P><NOTE PLACE="marg">K. Edw, 3.</NOTE> In the &s;eauen and thirtieth y&eacute;ere of <HI>Edward</HI> the third, a Fro&s;t began in England, about the mid&s;t of September, and thawed not till Aprill following, &s;o that it continued al|mo&s;t eight moneths.</P>
<P><NOTE PLACE="marg">K. Henry 4.</NOTE> In the ninth yeere of the raigne of K. <HI>Henry</HI> the fourth, was there a Fro&s;t that la&s;ted fift&eacute;ene w&eacute;ekes. The like happened in the fourth yeere of <HI>Edward</HI> the fourth.<NOTE PLACE="marg">K. Edw. 4.</NOTE></P>
<P><NOTE PLACE="marg">K. Henr. 8.</NOTE> In the nynth yeere of K. <HI>Henry</HI> the eight, the Thames was frozen ouer, that men with hor&s;e and carts pa&s;&s;ed vpon it: And in the very next &s;ucc&eacute;eding yeere, dyed multitudes of people, by a &s;trange di&s;ea&s;e, called the <HI>Sweating Sicke|ne&s;&s;e.</HI></P>
<P><NOTE PLACE="marg">Q Elizab.</NOTE> There was one great Fro&s;t more in England, (in our memorie,) and that was in the &s;euenth yeere of Queene <HI>E|lizabeth,</HI> which began vpon the <HI>21.</HI> of December, and held on &s;o extremely, that vpon New yeeres &eacute;eue following, people in multitudes went vpon the Thames from London Bridge to We&s;tmin&s;ter: Some (as you tell mee, Sir, they doe now) playing at foote-ball, others &s;hooting at prickes: This Fro&s;t began to thaw vpon the third day of Ianuary at night, and on the fifth of the &s;ame moneth, was no ice to be &s;&eacute;ene betw&eacute;ene London-Bridge and Lambeth: which &s;udden thaw brought forth &s;udden harmes, for hou&s;es and bridges were ouer-turned by the Land-floudes: among&s;t which, <HI>Owes</HI> Bridge in Yorke&s;hire was borne away: ma|ny numbers of people peri&s;hing likewi&s;e by tho&s;e waters.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>You haue a happy memorie Father: your head I &s;ee is a very &s;torehou&s;e of antiquitie: you are of your &s;elfe a whole volume of Chronicles: Time hath well be&s;towed his le&s;&s;ons vpon you, for you are a ready &s;choller of his, and doe repeate his &s;tories by heart perfectly.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P>And thus (as I &s;aid before) you may perceiue, that the&s;e extraordinary Feauers haue alwayes other euils attending vpon them.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>You haue made it plaine vnto mee: and I pray
<PB REF="13"> God, at who&s;e commaund the Sunne &s;endes forth his heat, to comfort the earth, and the windes bitter &s;tormes to de|face the fruites of it, that in this la&s;t afflictation of waters, which are hardned again&s;t vs, all other mi&s;eries may bee clo&s;ed vp withall: and that the &s;tripes of &s;undry plagues and calamities which for the&s;e many y&eacute;eres haue b&eacute;en &s;eene &s;ticking in our fle&s;h, may worke in our bodies &s;uch amend|ment, and in our &s;oules &s;uch repentance, that the rodde of the diuine Iu&s;ticer may be held backe from &s;courging vs a|ny longer.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P>I gladly and from my heart, play the Clarke, crying <HI>Amen.</HI> I haue been bolde and trouble&s;ome to you Sir.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>You teach me what language to &s;peake to your &s;elfe in, I would neither of vs both, had euer &s;pent an houre wor&s;e.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P>Indeed Time is a iewell of incomparable va|lue, yet (as vnthrifts doe by their money) we are prodigall in wa&s;ting it, and neuer feele the true &s;weetne&s;&s;e of inioy|ing it, till we haue lo&s;t all. But &s;ithence I haue waded thus farre into conference with you, and that it is our agr&eacute;e|ment to barter away newes one with another, (as Mer|chants doe their commodities) I mu&s;t reque&s;t one kindne&s;&s;e more at your handes.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>What is that, Father? I am now in your debt, and in Conference I mu&s;t &s;ee you &s;ati&s;fied.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P>I heare Sir &s;trange report of a certayne Lot|tery for Plate, of a great value, here in London: Is it true?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>It is true, that there is a Lottery, and it is &s;et vp by Strangers.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P>I remember, that (as I take it in the xi. yeere of Queen <HI>Elizabeth</HI>) a Lottery began here in London, in which, if my memorie faile not, were foure hundred thou|&s;and lots to be drawne.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<PB REF="13">
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>You &s;ay right: &s;o much &s;till lies in my remem|brance.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Count.</SPEAKER>
<P>Mary that Lotterie was onely for money, and euery lot was ten &s;hillings. It was helde at the We&s;t doore of Saint <HI>Paules</HI> Church. It began vpon the eleuenth of Ianuarie, and continued day and night till the &s;ixt of May following, which was almo&s;t foure Moneths: and the com|mon burden of that &s;ong, when poore prizes were drawne, was <HI>Two pence halfe-pennie.</HI></P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>That was a prize poore inough, Ile be &s;worne: Nay father, then was there another gallant Lotterie about the eight and twentie yeare of the &s;ame Queenes raigne, which began in the middle of Sommer, and was for mar|ueilous rich and co&s;tly armors, guilt and engrauen.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P>That Lotterie I heard of, but neuer &s;aw it, for I was then in the Countrey.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>To win tho&s;e armours, all the companies of the Cittie ventured generall &s;ummes of mony. But becau&s;e you de&s;ire to heare &s;ome newes of this la&s;t Lotterie, that now tempteth people together, I will tell you &s;o much of it as I certainly know for truth, referring your eare (if you would hear more) to the great voyce of the vulgar, of whom you may be &s;ure to haue more then willingly you will carry home.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P>Oh &s;ir, the wilde bea&s;t with many heads, mu&s;t needs haue as many tongues, and it is not po&s;&s;ible tho&s;e tongues &s;hould goe true, no more then all the clocks doe but I pray you &s;peake on.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P><NOTE PLACE="marg">The de&s;c<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="UOM" EXTENT="3 letters">+tion of the Lottery</NOTE> This Lotterie (as I &s;ayd before) con&s;i&s;teth all of plate: it is a goodly Gold&s;miths &s;hop to come into: and to behold &s;o many guilt Spoones, Cups, Bowles, Ba&s;ons, Ewers, &amp;c. fairly grauen, and richly guilded, who would not be tempted to venture a &s;hilling (for thats a &s;take for a lot) when for that &s;hilling hee may happily draw a peece of plate worth a hundred pound, or an hundred and fortie, fiftie, or three&s;core pounds, if he can catch it, which he may doe if
<PB REF="14"> Fortune fauour him.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P>Oh &s;ir, that found of a hundred pound makes good mu&s;icke in the eare, and drawes men to hearken to it. Tho&s;e are the &s;weete baytes: but vpon what hookes, I pray you, are tho&s;e lickori&s;h bayts hung?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>Vpon villanous long ones: for to euerie prize there are put in 40. blanks, &s;o that there are &s;o many tricks to &s;et a man be&s;ide the &s;addle, and but one to leape in. There are 7600. prizes, and 42. mil. of Blanckes: a number of hard choaked Peares mu&s;t be &s;wallowed, before the delicate fruit can be ta&s;ted.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P>And yet I heare that the people flie thither like Wild-gee&s;e.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>You may well &s;ay like Wild-gee&s;e: for &s;ome of them proue &s;uch Goo&s;e caps by going thither, that they leaue them&s;elues no more feathers on their backs then a Goo&s;e hath when &s;he is plucked. I haue &s;at there and be|helde the faces of all &s;orts of people, that flocke to this faire of Siluer hou&s;hold-&s;tuffe: It is better then ten Comedies to note their entrances into the place, and their Exits: and yet in good truth I haue beene heartily &s;orie, to &s;ee what tragicall endes haue falne vppon &s;ome poore hou&s;ekeepers that haue come thither. About the doores multitudes &s;till are crowding: aboue, the roome is continually filled with people. Euerie mouth is balling out for lots, and euery hand thru&s;t out to &s;natch them: both hands are lifted vp, the one to deliuer the Condemned &s;hillings, the other to Receiue the papers of life and death. And when the papers are payed for (which are rolled vp like Wafers) load: what praying is there in euery corner, that God would (if it bee his will) &s;end them good fortune. How gingerly! doe they open their Twelue-pennie commoditie! How ley&s;urely? with what gaping of the mouth! with what licking of the lippes (as though they felt &s;weetne&s;&s;e in it before they ta&s;te it) how the &s;tanders by encourage him that hath drawne, to open bold|ly, as if it were to venture vpon the mouth of a Canon, and
<PB REF="14"> with what &s;trange pa&s;&s;ions and pantings does he turne o|uer his wa&s;t papers? But when he findes within but a pale peace of paper, Lord, how he &s;weares at his owne folly, cur|&s;es the Frenchmen, and cries a plague on the hou&s;e, and wi&s;hes all the plate were molten, and powred downe the throtes of them that owe it: Yet when hee hath emptied his bo&s;ome of all this bitterne&s;&s;e, the verie ca&s;ting of his eye vpon a goodly faire Ba&s;on of &s;iluer, &s;o &s;weetens the remem|brance of his lo&s;t money, that to it he falles againe, and ne|uer giues ouer &s;o long as he can make any &s;hift for the other &s;hilling. And thus doe a number of poore men labour with a kind of greedines to begger them&s;elues.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P>But among&s;t all the&s;e Land-Rouers, haue none of them the lucke of men of warre, to winne rich prizes?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>Yes, &s;ome doe: and the making of one, is the vndoing of an hundred: for the &s;ight of a &s;tanding bowle be|ing borne openly away in triumph by &s;ome poore fellow, &s;o &s;ets all their t&eacute;eth on edge that are the gazers on, that ma|ny of them are almo&s;t madde, till they haue &s;old their pew|ter, in hope to change it into a cupbbord of &s;iluer plate And &s;o farre doth this frenzie leade &s;ome (e&s;pecially the ba&s;er &s;ort of people) that this man pawnes his cloake, that man his holliday breeches: this woman &s;ells her bra&s;&s;e, that go&s;&s;ip makes away her linnen, and all the&s;e &s;treames meete in the end in one riuer. The&s;e doe all &s;uffer &s;hipwracke, and the &s;ea &s;wallowes the &s;poyle. The one goes home crying and cur|&s;ing, the other &s;tandes &s;till tickling with laughter: the one hugs him&s;elfe for his good &s;ucce&s;&s;e, the other is readie to hang him&s;elfe at his i<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="UOM" EXTENT="1 letter">l fortune. Carmen &s;ell their hor&s;es, and giue ouer drawing of loades, to draw lots. There came a yong wench in one day (a maid &s;eruant) that had newly receiued her quarters wages, and was going to buy clothes to her backe: But this Siluer-mine &s;tanding in her way, here &s;he vowed to dig, and to trie if &s;he could bee made for euer: &s;he ventured all her money, and lo&s;t all. But when &s;he
<PB REF="15"> &s;aw it gone, &s;he &s;ighed &amp; &s;ware, the lo&s;&s;e of her maidenhead &s;hould neuer haue grieued her &s;o much, as the lo&s;&s;e of her wages.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P>I beleeue her &s;ir:</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz:</SPEAKER>
<P>Imagine how a Vintners boy hauing receiued a reckoning of his ma&s;ters gue&s;ts, and they falling pre&s;ently to dice, if the drawer &s;hould &s;et his mai&s;ters money, and cry|ing at all, &s;hould loo&s;e it al, how would that fellow look? euen &s;o looked that poore wench.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P>Are there (think you &s;ir) no deceits in this Lot|terie, to cozen and abu&s;e the people?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>Tru&s;t me father, I dare accu&s;e no man of any, becau&s;e I know of none: &s;uch accions as the&s;e (how war|rant able &s;oeuer,) &amp; &s;trengthned by the be&s;t authorities, who haue wi&s;edome to looke through and through them, if there were any iugling conceit, notwith&s;tanding &s;tand from the &s;tinges of &s;lander, if any villanie be done, the people that &s;warme thither, practi&s;e it one again&s;t an other.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Count.</SPEAKER>
<P>As how I pray &s;ir?</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cittiz.</SPEAKER>
<P><NOTE PLACE="marg">Knauis triks done at the Lottery</NOTE> For I haue been told, that &s;ome one crafty knaue among&s;t all the re&s;t, taking vpon him to play the good Shepheard ouer the flocke, that &s;tandes about him, hath gathered mony from &s;euerall men, or women, he him|&s;elf likewi&s;e putting in his owne, and then keeping a crow|ding to pa&s;&s;e through the pre&s;&s;e, he comes backe and deliuers &s;o many blanckes as he receiued &s;hillings, which blankes were not of the Lotterie, but cunningly made vp by him|&s;elfe, and caried of purpo&s;e vp and downe by him in his pocket.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Co.</SPEAKER>
<P>They are worthily &s;erued that wilbe cheted by &s;uch a doctor in the art of knauery. If any man therfore wil n&eacute;eds be, as the terme is now, one of this twelue peny Guls, let him hereafter &s;et his owne limetwigs, and then if he catch no birde, no bodie els &s;hall laugh at him.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Citiz.</SPEAKER>
<P>Among&s;t many other thinges vpon the fro&s;en
<PB REF="15"> Thames, that will in times to follow, looke to be remem|bred, this is one: That there were two Barkers &s;hops (in the fa&s;hion of Boothes with &s;ignes and other properties of that trade belonging to them) fixed on the yce: to which many numbers of people re&s;orted, and (albeit they wanted no &s;hauing) yet would they here he trimmed, becau&s;e an other day they might report, that they lo&s;t their haire be|tweene the banke &s;ide and London. Both the&s;e &s;hoppes werr &s;till &s;o full, that the workemen thought euery day had beene Saturday: neuer had they more barbarous doinges for the time: there was both olde polling and cold polling: and albeit the foundation of their hou&s;es &s;tood altogether vpon a watry ground, yet they that were Doctors of the barbours chair, feared no danger, for it was a hard matter almo&s;t now for a man to find water to drowne him&s;elfe if he had beene &s;o de&s;perate</P>
<P>Then had they other games of nineholes and Pidgeon-holes in greate numbers. And this (father) did I ob&s;erue as worthy to be remembred, that when the watermen (who had cold doinges for a long time) had by maine labour cutte downe with axes, and &s;uch like in&s;truments, a lane and open pa&s;&s;age betweene <HI>Queene</HI> Hyth, &amp; the further banke, &s;o that boates went &s;urely to and fro, yet were people in great multitudes running, walking, &s;lyding, and playing at games and exerci&s;es, as boldly as if they had beene on the firme land (the Thames running mainely betweene them) and taking Boates at Queene Hyth, or any other Stayres, they would as fiercely leape vpon the verie vrim of the caked Ice, as if it had beene a &s;trong Wharfe, or the ground it &s;elfe.</P>
<P>And thus much father, touching the great Fro&s;t here about our Cittie. Vnto which, vpon my conference with &s;ome Merchantes my friendes here in London, and vpon view of Letters from &s;euerall factors out of other Coun|tries
<PB REF="16"> beyond the Seas.) I adde this further report, that this Fro&s;t hath not onely continued in this extremitie here in England, but all or the greate&s;t part of all the Kingdomes in Chri&s;tendome, haue beene pinched by the &s;ame: among&s;t which tho&s;e Countries Northward (as Ru&s;&s;ia, Mu&s;couia, &amp;c, which at the&s;e times of the yeare are commonly &s;ubiect to &s;harpe, bitter and violent Fro&s;ts) were now (this Win|ter) more extreamely, and more extraordinarily afflicted, then v&s;ually they haue beene in many yeares before. So that the calamities that haue falne vpon vs by this crueltie of the weather, are &s;o much to be endured with the greater patience, and with more thanke&s;giuing to God, becau&s;e his hand hath puni&s;hed neighbors and other Nations as heaui|ly (if not more &s;euerely) then he hath vs.</P>
<P>Among&s;t all the &s;erious accidents that haue hapned here vpon our Thames, I will now (father) quicken your heare|ing with one a little more merry, it was merry to the be|holders and &s;trange, but I beleeue he found no great mirth in it that was the per&s;on that performed it. But thus it was.</P>
<P>A Citizen happened to venture (with many others) vpon the Ice: but he with a couple of dogs that followed him, walked vp and downe &s;o long, till he was in a maner alone from the re&s;t of the company. You mu&s;t vnder&s;tand, that this was now towards the end of the fro&s;t, when it either beganne or was likely to thaw: &s;o that people were not &s;o bold vpon the Ice nor in &s;uch multitudes as they were be|fore: but this Citizen (and his two dogs,) keeping as I &s;aid aloofe from others, it fortuned that the flake of Ice vpon which hee &s;tood, was in a moment &s;undred from the maine body of the fro&s;en Thames, like an arme of a tree cut from the body: &s;o that he &s;toode, or rather &s;womme (as h&eacute;e &s;tood) vpon a floating Iland: the poore man perceiuing that his ground failed vnder him, began to faint in his heart, re|penting
<PB REF="16"> that now he was &s;o ve~terous, or &s;o fooli&s;h to leaue firme ground where he was &s;afe, and to tru&s;t a floore that was &s;o deceitfull, was afraid to &s;tir, and yet vnle&s;&s;e hee did lu&s;tly &s;tir for life, hee was &s;ure there was no way but one, and that was to be drowned. In this extremity, and in this battell of comfort and de&s;paire, he had no meanes (albeit he was a fre&s;h water Souldier,) but to bee con&s;tant in cou|rage to him&s;elfe, and to trie all pathes how to get from this apparent danger: from place to place therefore doth he &s;oft+ly run, his two dogs following him clo&s;&s;e and leaping vpon him: but his thoughts were more bu&s;ied how to &s;aue him&s;elf the~ to regard them following, he neuer hated going a haw|king with his dogs till this time: now the &s;port was loath|&s;ome, now was he weary of it: for in all his hunting with his bound thus at his taile, hee mette one game that could make him weary: he iu&s;tled with other huge flakes of Ice that encountered with that whereon he &s;tood, and gladly would haue leapt vpon &s;ome one of them, but to haue done &s;o, had been to haue &s;lipt out of one perill into an other: No|thing was before his eyes but water, mingled with huge cakes of Ice, on euery &s;ide of him was danger and death.</P>
<P>Innumerable multitudes of people &s;tood looking on vp|on the &s;hores, but none were &s;o hardie as to &s;et out to his re|&s;cue. Being therefore thus round be&s;et with the horrors of &s;o pre&s;ent a wracke, he fell downe on his knees, vttering &s;uch colde prayers as in this feare a man could deliuer: his dogges not vnder&s;tanding their mai&s;ters daunger, nor their owne, and not knowing why hee kneeled, leaping euer and anon at his head, and an his &s;houlders: but his mind being now more on his dying day then on his &s;ports, continued praying, till the flake of yce on which he kneeled was dri|uen to the verie Bridge, which hee perceyuing, &s;tarted vp, and with a happie nimblene&s;&s;e leaped vpon one of the Ar|ches,
<PB REF="17"> his dogs leaping after as nimbly as the mai&s;ter, whil&s;t the cake of yce pa&s;&s;ed away from him, and betweene the two Arches was &s;heuered all in little peeces. And thus did he e&s;caped.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P>It was a miraculous deliuerance.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Citty.</SPEAKER>
<P>Other abu&s;es are there daily (among&s;t the wor|&s;er rankes of people) put one vpon another, which being but idle, ridiculous and not worth reher&s;ing, I willingly am glad not to reme~ber: but only to content your longing (good old father) haue I &s;et thus much of our golden Lottery be|fore you.</P>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Countr.</SPEAKER>
<P>Sir you bind me more and more to you for the&s;e kindne&s;&s;es to me being a &s;tranger, &amp; a per&s;on of &s;o home|ly an out &s;ide, from a Cittizen &s;o graue as your &s;elfe &s;eems to be, I will euer re&s;t abundantly thankefull.</P>
</SP>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<PB REF="17">
<P><HI>LONDON.</HI> Printed for Henry Go&s;&s;on, <HI>and are to be &s;old at</HI> his &s;hop at London-Bridge. 1608.</P>
<PB REF="18">
<PB REF="18" MS="y">
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
