Now _George Peele's_ wit labors to bring in that five pounds there was spent, which was soone begotten. Being sot at dinner, My host, quoth _George_, how fals the Tyde out for London; not till the evening, quoth mine Hoste, have you any businesse, Sir? Yes, marry, quoth _George_, I intend not to goe home this two dayes: Therefore, my Hoste, saddle my man a horse for London, if you be so well furnished, for I must send him for one bag more, quoth _George_, ten pounds hath seen no Sunne this six moneths. I am ill furnished if I cannot furnish you with that, quoth my Hoste, and presently sadled him a good Nag, and away rides one of _George's_ men to London, attending the good house of his Master _Peele_ in London; In the meane time _George_ bespeakes great cheare to Supper, saying he expected some of his friends from London. Now you must imagine there was not a peny owing in the house, for he had paid as liberall as _Cæsar_, as far as _Cæsar's_ wealth went. For indeed most of the money was one Cæsar's an honest man yet living in London: but to the Catastrophe. All the day before, had one of the other men of _George Peele_ been a great soliciter to my Hostis, she would beg leave of his Master he might go see a Maid, a sweet heart of his, so farre as Kingstone, and before his Master went to bed, he would returne againe; saying he was sure shee might command it at his Masters hands. My kinde Hostis willing to pleasure the yong fellow, knowing in her time what belonged to such matters, went to Master _Peele_, and moved him in it: which he angerly refused. But she was so earnest in it, that shee swore hee should not deny her, protesting he went but to see an uncle of his some five miles off. Marry, I thanke you, quoth _George_, my good Hostis, would you so discredit me, or hath the knave no more wit, than at this time to goe, knowing I have no horse here, and would he, base cullian, go afoot? Nay, good Sir, quoth mine Hostis, be not angry, it is not his intent to goe afoot; for hee shall have my Mare, and I will assure you, Sir, upon my word, he shall be here againe, to have you to bed. Wel, quoth _George_, Hostis Ile take you at your word, let him goe, his negligence shall light upon you. So be it, quoth mine Hostis: so down goeth she, and sends away civill _Thomas_, for so she cal'd him, to his sweet heart backt upon her Mare: which _Thomas_ instead of riding to Kingstone, tooke London in his way, where, meeting with my other horseman, attended the arrivall of _George Peele_, which was not long after. They are at London, _George_ in his Chamber at Brainford, accompanied with none but one _Anthony Nit_, a Barber, who Din'd and Sup't with him continually, of whom he had borowed a Lute to passe away the melancholy afternoone, of which he could play as well as _Banke's_[F. 166] his horse. The Barber very modestly takes his leave; _George_ obsequiously bids him to supper, who (God willing) would not faile.