[93.] _George_ (_Peele_) lying at an old Widdowes house, and had gone on so farre on the Score, that his credit would stretch no further: for she had made a vow not to depart with drinke or victuals without ready money. Which _George_ seeing the fury of his froward Hostis, in griefe kept his Chamber; called to his Hostis and told her, she should understand that he was not without money, how poorely soever he appeared to her, and that my diet shall testifie: in the meane time, good Hostis, quoth he, send for such a friend of mine. Shee did: so his friend came: to whom _George_ imparted his mind; the effect whereof was this, to pawne his Cloake, Hose and Doublet, unknowne to his Hostis: for, quoth _George_ this seven nights doe I intend to keepe my bed. (Truly hee spake, for his intent was that the bed should not keepe him any longer). Away goes he to pawne his apparell; _George_ bespeakes good cheere to supper, which was no shamble butcher stuffe, but according to the place; for, his Chamber being remote from the house, at the end of the Garden, his apparell being gone, it appeared to him as the Counter; therefore to comfort himselfe he dealt in Poultrie. His friend brought the money, supped with him: his Hostis hee very liberally payed, but cavelled with her at her unkindnesse: vowing that while he lay there, none should attend him but his friend. The Hostis reply'd, A God's name, she was well contented with it: so was _George_ too: for none knew better than himselfe what he intended; but in briefe thus he used his kinde Hostis. After his Apparell and Money was gone, hee made bolde with the feather bed hee lay on, which his friend-ship convey'd away, having as villanous a Wolfe in his belly as _George_, though not altogether so wise; for that feather bed they devoured in two daies, feathers and all, which was no sooner digested, but away went the Coverlet, Sheetes and the Blancket; and at the last dinner, when _George's_ good friend perceiving nothing left but the bed-cords, as the Devill would have it, straight came into his mind the fashion of a halter; the foolish kind knave would needs fetch a quart of sacke for his friend _George_; which Sacke to this day never saw Vintners Cellar; and so he left _George_ in a cold chamber, a thin shirt, a ravished bed, no comfort left him, but the bare bones of deceased Capons. In this distresse, George bethought him what he might doe; nothing was left him; and as his eye wandred up and downe the empty Chamber, by chance he spied out an old Armour; at which sight George was the joyfullest man in Christendome; for the Armour of Achilles, that Ulysses and Ajax strove for, was not more precious to them, than this to him: for hee presently claps it upon his backe, the Halbert in his hand, the Moryon on his head, and so gets out the backe way, marches from Shorditch to Clarkenwell, to the no small wonder of those spectators that beheld him. Being arrived to the wished haven