The English Rogue: Described in the Life of Meriton Latroon, a Witty ExtravagantHead, Richard
General
The English Rogue: Described in the Life of Meriton Latroon, a Witty Extravagant
Head, Richard
Rogues and vagabonds -- England -- Fiction
Knowing it was no wayes safe to lie there and cry _God help me_, I
raised my self as well as I could, but I had not walked far, before I
found my self in no condition of going, wherefore I resolved to lie
under the next Stall. As the Devil would have it, I found a Coblers
Stall newly broke open that very night: never questioning the place, I
crept in, and notwithstanding my bruise by the fall, and whipping
besides, I fell fast asleep, so soundly, that I awaked not, till I was
forced to it with an horse-pox. For the Cobler coming to work early in
the morning (according to his custome) found his door broken open; with
that, he made an hideous noise, crying out, He was undone; for the day
before he had laid out three shillings four pence, which was all his
stock in Leather; all which was stoln, with many old shooes, nay his
very working implements; doubtless it was done by one of his own
Fraternity, that had informed himself of his late great purchase. The
Cobler entring his Stall, found me in one corner fast asleep. He took no
other course to awake me, than dragging me by the heels out of my Den,
into the Street, crying out, That he had got one of the Rogues, and
without any more adoe, fell upon me, buffeting me with his fist, and
treading me underneath his feet, making himself both my Judge and
Executioner: Thus you see one mischief attends the others heels. I
begged him in a pittiful manner to let me alone, and I would confess to
him all I knew, desiring him to go with me to the next Ale-house, which
accordingly we did. I vowed to him I was no ways accessary to his wrong,
informing him as much as I thought convenient of my sufferings, shewing
him what a woful plight I was in; relating, it was my Masters cruelty
that was the cause of all this, and no other fault of mine, then staying
the last night out a little too long. The Cobler seemed to commiserate
my misery, asking me forgiveness for what he had done, and so we parted.
Since, by the kindness of a good natured Widow (where I lie) I have
recovered my hurts and strength, and now am overjoyed we should so
happily meet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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