Fashioner was like Mr. Joy, the Cambridge tailor of an olden time. If that hilarious craftsman had promised a suit to be ready for a ball, and did not bring it home till the next morning at breakfast, his stereotyped phrase ever took the form of—“Sorrow endureth for a night, but ‘Joy’ cometh with the morning!” But, to return to the _hades_ of tailors. The reader will doubtless remember that Ralph, the doughty squire of Hudibras, had been originally of the following of the needle, and— “An equal stock of wit and valour He had laid in, by birth a tailor.” Ralph dated his ancestry from the immediate heir of Dido, from whom “descended _cross-legg’d knights_, Famed for their faith.” And then are we told, with rich Hudibrastic humour, that Ralph, the ex-tailor, was like Æneas the Pious, for— “This sturdy squire, he had, as well As the bold Trojan knight, seen _hell_;” which locality, as connected with the handicraftsman, is described as being the place where tailors deposit their perquisites. We have digressed a little from Snipsnap, the English tailor, whom Beaumont and Fletcher have placed with other thoroughly English artisans in the piece already named, ‘The Faithful Friends.’ Snipsnap holds his profession to be above that of a soldier, but yet modestly excuses himself from fighting, on the score that, although a tailor, he is _not_ a gentleman. Being provoked, however, he knocks down the rude offender, and has a thorough contempt for the constable,—a contempt in the entertaining of which he is so well justified by the logical remark of Blacksnout:— “A constable’s An ass. I’ve been a constable myself.” The bravery of Snipsnap is a true bravery: he is conscious of the peril in which he stands as a soldier, and, ere going into action, bethinks him of old prophecies that he should be slain; but when he pictures to himself the public scorn that ever follows cowardice, and that, if he and his fellows be poltroons, every wench in Rome will fling dirt at them as they pass by, saying, “There are the soldiers who durst not draw their blades,” then is the heroic soul fired, and Snipsnap exclaims:— “But they shall find we dare, and strike home too: I am now resolved, and will be valiant; This bodkin quilts their skin as full of holes As e’er was canvas doublet.” “Spoke like a bold man, Snip!” says Bellario, the old soldier. Ay, and like a discreet and thinking man. There is no foolhardiness and rash action in Snipsnap; but, like the greatest of heroes, he looks his peril calmly in the face, and then encounters it with a gallantry that is not to be resisted.