in prison.  For they be so much ashamed and disdain to beg or ask charity, that rather they will as desperately fight for to live and maintain themselves, as manfully and valiantly they ventured themselves in the Prince’s quarrel.  Now these Rufflers, the outcasts of serving-men, when begging or craving fails them, they pick and pilfer from other inferior beggars that they meet by the way, as rogues, palliards, morts, and doxes.  Yea, if they meet with a woman alone riding to the market, either old man or boy, that he kneweth well will not resist, such they fetch and spoil.  These Rufflers, after a year or two at the farthest, become upright men [lusty vagrants who beg and take only money, who rob hen roosts, filch from stalls or pockets, and have dens of their own for drinking and receipt of stolen goods], unless they be prevented by twined hemp.

I had of late years an old man to my tenant who customably a great time went twice in the week to London, either with fruit or with peascods, when time served therefor.  And as he was coming homeward, on Blackheath, at the end thereof next to Shooter’s Hill, he overtook two Rufflers, the one mannerly waiting on the other, as one had been the master and the other his man or servant, carrying his master’s cloak.  This old man was very glad that he might have their company over the hill, because that day he had made a good market.  For he had seven shillings in his purse and an old angel, which this poor man had thought had not been in his purse; for he willed his wife overnight to take out the same angel and lay it up until his coming home again, and he verily thought his wife had so done, which indeed forgot to do it.  Thus, after salutations had, this Master Ruffler entered into communication with this simple old man, who, riding softly beside them, communed of many matters.  Thus feeding this old man with pleasant talk until they were on the top of the hill, where these Rufflers might well behold the coast about them clear, quickly steps unto this poor man and taketh hold of his horse bridle and leadeth him into the wood, and demandeth of him what and how much money he had in his purse.  “Now, by my troth,” quoth this old man, “you are a merry gentleman!  I know you mean not to take anything from me, but rather to give me some, if I should ask it of you.”

By and by [immediately] this servant thief casteth the cloak that he carried on his arm about this poor man’s face that he should not mark or view them, with sharp words to deliver quickly that he had, and to confess truly what was in his purse.  This poor man then all abashed yielded, and confessed that he had seven shillings in his purse; and the truth is, he knew of no more.  This old angel was fallen out of a little purse into the bottom of a great purse.  Now this seven shillings in white money they quickly found, thinking indeed that there had been no more; yet farther groping and searching, found this old angel.  And with great admiration this gentleman thief began to bless him, saying—­