him than appeared without, demanded of him why he loytered there, and being able to work for his living did not apply himself unto some lawful calling, threatning him at the first with the stocks and the whipping-post; but the poor man, after the making of some plain leggs and courtesie, desired him to pardon him, and told him that he was a dejected man, who desired any imployment, and that no pains how mean or course (sic) soever could seem tedious or burthensome unto him, so he might but find some good master, by whose charity he might relieve his present necessity:  for his great ambition was but to keep his body from nakedness and his stomach from hunger, and told him withal how long it was since he had tasted meat or drink.

The worthy merchant seeing him of a personable body, and an ingenious aspect howsoever both were clouded under a rustick habit, began somewhat to commiserate his estate, and knocking for a servant had him take in that fellow and give him such victuals as the house for the present afforded, and at his return he would have further conference with him.  The servant did as he was commanded and took him in.

The merchant went then to the Exchange, which was then in Lumber Street, about his affairs; in which intrim (sic) poor Whittington was hied into the kitchin to warm himself, for faintness by reason of hunger and cold (for it was then in the winter time) had quite rob’d him of his colour.  Meat was set before him in plenty, and being bred in the country, as the proverb goeth, He fed like a farmer, and having satisfied himself sufficiently and warm’d him to the full, a fresh colour began to come into his cheeks:  at which the Merchant’s daughter (hearing of a new come guest) came into the kitchin, and began to question him of divers things concerning the country, to all which he gave her such modest and sensible answers that she took a great liking unto him, and so left him.

Dinner time came, and Master Fitzwarren (for so was the merchant called) came home with a good stomach, and brought a friend or two with him from the Exchange; down they sat to meat, and had speech of many things at the table; meanwhile the servants were set also at dinner, who would needs have Whittington, though he had so lately broke his fast, to keep them company, some of them delighting in his country speech, others deriding his supposed simplicity.

But to come to the purpose, the table being withdrawn in the parlour, and the guests departed, and Master Fitzwarren and his daughter left alone, she being of a good and gentle disposition, began to commend his charity concerning the poor man whom he relieved that morning, to whom he answered, God-a-mercy daughter, thou hast done well to remember me, such a one I sent indeed, but have my servants done as I commanded them? and where is he now? who answered him, that she had given order he should stay dinner, and not depart the house till he himself had further spoken with him.  At which they both went unto the Hall, and called the fellow before them; who appeared unto them with such a bashful humility that it seemed to them both to beg a charity; some language past betwixt them concerning him, which gave them content; at length they bid him retire himself.