THOMAS DEKKER (1570-1641):

The Gul's Hornbook.

[The nave of Old St. Paul's was used as a promenade by the gallants of the town. Thomas Dekker's Gul's Hornbook from which the following passage is taken was published in 1609.]

Now for your venturing into the Walke, be circumspect and wary what piller you come in at, and take heede in any case (as you love the reputation of your honour) that you avoide the Serving-mans log, and approch not within five fadom of that Piller; but bend your course directly in the middle line, that the whole body of the Church may appeare to be yours; where, in view of all, you may publish your suit in what manner you affect most, either with the slide of your cloake from the one shoulder, and then you must (as twere in anger) suddenly snatch at the middle of the inside (if it be taffata at the least) and so by that meanes your costly lining is betrayd, or else by the pretty advantage of Complement. But one note by the way do I especially wooe you to, the neglect of which makes many of our Gallants cheape and ordinary, that by no meanes you be seene above foure turnes; but in the fift make your selfe away, either in some of the Sempsters' shops, the new Tobacco-office, or amongst the Bookesellers, where, if you cannot reade, exercise your smoake, and inquire who has writ against this divine weede &c. For this withdrawing your selfe

a little, will much benefite your suit, which else, by too long walking, would be stale to the whole spectators: but howsoever if Powles Jacks bee once up with their elbowes, and quarrelling to strike eleven, as soone as ever the clock has parted them, and ended the fray with his hammer, let not the Dukes gallery conteyne you any longer, but passe away apace in open view. In which departure, if by chance you either encounter, or aloofe off throw your inquisitive eye upon any knight or Squire, being your familiar, salute him not by his name of Sir such a one, or so, but call him Ned, or Jack, &c. This will set off your estimation with great men : and if (tho there be a dozen companies betweene you, tis the better) hee call aloud to you (for thats most gentile), to know where he shall find you at two a clock, tell him at such an Ordinary, or such, and bee sure to name those that are deerest: and whither none but your Gallants resort. After dinner you may appeare againe, having translated yourselfe out of your English cloth cloak, into a light Turky-grogram) if you have that happinesse of shifting) and then be seene (for a turne or two) to correct your teeth with some quill or silver instrument, and to cleanse your gummes with a wrought handkercher : It skilles not whether you dined or no (thats best knowne to your stomach) or in what place you dined, though it were with cheese (of your owne mother's making), in your chamber or study.

Now if you chance to be a Gallant not much crost among Citizens, that is, a Gallant in the Mercers bookes, exalted for Sattens and velvets, if

you

be not so much blest to bee crost (as I hold it the greatest blessing in the world, to bee great in no mans bookes) your Powles walke is your onely refuge the Dukes Tomb is a Sanctuary, and wil keepe you alive from wormes and land-rattes, that long to be feeding on your carkas: there you may spend your legs in winter a whole after-noone: converse, plot, laugh, and talke any thing, jest at your Creditor, even to his face, and in the evening, even by lamp-light, steale out, and so cozen a whole covy of abhominable catch-pols. Never be seene to mount the steppes into the quire, but upon a high Festivall day, to preferre the fashion of your doublet, and especially if the singing-boyes seeme to take note of you: for they are able to buzze your praises above their Anthems, if their voyces have not lost their maidenheads: but be sure your silver spurres dog your heeles, and then the Boyes will swarme about you like so many white butter-flyes, when you in the open Quire shall drawe forth a perfumed embrodred purse (the glorious sight of which will entice many Countrymen from their devotion to wondering) and quoyt silver into the Boyes handes, that it may be heard above the first lesson, although it be reade in a voyce as big as one of the great Organs.

This noble and notable Act being performed, you are to vanish presently out of the Quire, and to appeare againe in the walk: But in any wise be not observed to tread there long alone: for feare you be suspected to be a Gallant casheerd from the society of Captens and Fighters.

Sucke this humour up especially. Put off to

none, unlesse his hatband be of a newer fashion then yours, and three degrees quainter: but for him that weares a trebled cipers about his hatte, (though he were an Aldermans sonne) never move to him for hees suspected to be worse then a Gul, and not worth the putting off to, that cannot observe the time of his hatband, nor know what fashioned block is most kin to his head: for, in my opinion, ye braine that cannot choose his Felt well (being the head ornament) must needes powre folly into all the rest of the members, and be an absolute confirmed Foole in Summâ Totali.

All the diseased horses in a tedious siege cannot shew so many fashions, as are to be seene for nothing, every day, in Duke Humfryes walke. If therefore you determine to enter into a new suit, warne your Tailor to attend you in Powles, who, with his hat in his hand, shall like a spy discover the stuffe, colour, and fashion of any doublet, or hose that dare be seene there, and stepping behind a piller to fill his table-bookes with those notes, will presently send you into the world an accomplisht man by which meanes you shall weare your clothes in print with the first edition. But if Fortune favour you so much as to make you no more then a meere country gentleman, or but some three degrees removd from him (for which I should be very sorie, because your London-experience wil cost you deere before you shall have the wit to know what you are), then take this lesson along with you: The first time that you venture into Powles, passe through the body of the Church like a Porter, yet presume not to fetch so much as one

whole turne in the middle Ile, no nor to cast an eye to Si quis doore (pasted and plaistered up with Serving-mens supplications), before you have paid tribute to the top of Powles steeple with a single penny: And when you are mounted there, take heede how you looke downe into the yard; for the railes are as rotten as your great-Grandfather; and thereupon it will not be amisse if you enquire how Kit Woodroffe durst vault over, and what reason he had for it, to put his necke in hazard of reparations. From hence you may descend, to talke about the horse that went up, and strive, if you can, to know his keeper take the day of the Moneth, and the number of the steppes, and suffer yourselfe to believe verily that it was not a horse, but something else in the likenesse of one: which wonders you may publish, when you returne into the country, to the great amazement of all Farmers Daughters, that will almost swound at the report, and never recover till their banes bee asked twice in the Church.

But I have not left you yet. Before you come downe againe, I would desire you to draw your knife, and grave your name (or, for want of a name, the marke, which you clap on your sheep) in great Characters upon the leades, by a number of your brethren (both Citizens and country Gentlemen) and so you shall be sure to have your name lye in a coffin of lead, when yourselfe shall be wrapt in a winding-sheete: and indeed the top of Powles conteins more names than Stowes Chronicle. These lofty tricks being plaid, and you (thanks to your feete) being safely arrived at the staires foote againe, your next worthy worke is, to repaire to my lord