The time is come I must depart
from thee oh famous City:
I never yet, to rue my smart,
did find that thou hadst pity.
Wherefore small cause there is, that I
should grieve from thee to go:
But many women foolishly,
like me, and other moe,
Do such a fixed fancy set
on those which least deserve, [10]
That long it is ere wit we get
away from them to swerve […]
And now hath time put me in mind
of thy great cruelness,
That never once a help would find,
to ease me in distress […]
No, no, thou never didst me good,
nor ever wilt, I know:
Yet I am in no angry mood,
but will, or ere I go, [20]
In perfect love and charity,
my testament here write,
And leave to thee such treasury
as I in it recite.
Now stand aside and give me leave
to write my latest will,
And see that none you do deceive,
of that I leave them til. […]
I whole in body, and in mind,
but very weak in purse [30]
Do make, and write my testament
for fear it will be worse. […]
I first of all to London leave,
because I there was bred,
Brave buildings rare, of churches store,
and Paul’s to the head. […]
Watling Street and Canwyck Street
I full of woollen leave,
And linen store in Friday Street,
if they me not deceive. [40]
And those which are of calling such,
that costlier they require,
I mercers leave, with silk so rich,
as any would desire.
In Cheap of them, they store shall find,
and likewise in that street,
I goldsmiths leave, with jewels such
as are for ladies meet.
And plate to furnish cupboards with,
full brave there you shall find, [50]
With purl of silver and of gold,
to satisfy your mind.
With hoods, bongraces, hats or caps,
such store are in that street,
As if on t’one side you should miss,
the tother serves you for’t. […]
For women shall you tailors have,
by Bow the chiefest dwell:
In every lane you some shall find,
can do indifferent well. [60]
And for the men, few streets or lanes
but body-makers be,
And such as make the sweeping cloaks,
with gardes beneath the knee.
Artillery at Temple Bar,
and dagges at Tower Hill;
Swords and bucklers of the best
are nigh the Fleet until. […]
At Steelyard store of wines there be,
your dulled minds to glad, [70]
And handsome men, that must not wed
except they leave their trade.
They oft shall seek for proper girls,
and some perhaps shall find
That need compels, or lucre lures,
to satisfy their mind.
And near the same, I houses leave
for people to repair,
To bathe themselves, so to prevent
infection of the air. […] [80]
And that the poor, when I am gone,
have cause for me to pray,
I will to prisons portions leave,
what though but very small:
Yet that they may remember me,
occasion be it shall. […]
The Newgate once a month shall have
a sessions for his share,
Lest, being heaped, infection might
procure a further care. [90]
And at those sessions some shall ‘scape
with burning near the thumb,
And afterward to beg their fees,
till they have got the sum. […]
To all the bookbinders by Paul’s
because I like their art,
They every week shall money have,
when they from books depart. […]
For maidens poor, I widowers rich
do leave, that oft shall dote, [100]
And by that means shall marry them,
to set the girls afloat.
And wealthy widows will I leave,
to help yong gentlemen,
Which when you have, in any case
be courteous to them then,
And see their plate and jewels eke
may not be marred with rust,
Nor let their bags too long be full,
for fear that they do burst. […] [110]
To Smithfield I must something leave,
my parents there did dwell:
So careless for to be of it,
none would account it well.
Wherefore it thrice a week shall have
of horse and neat good store,
And in his Spital, blind and lame
to dwell for evermore.
And Bedlam must not be forgot,
for that was oft my walk: [120]
I people there too many leave,
That out of tune do talk.
At Bridewell there shall beadles be,
and Matrons that shall still
See chalk well chopped, and spinning plied,
and turning of the mill. […]
And also leave I at each Inn
of Court, or Chancery,
Of gentlemen, a youthful rout,
full of activity, [130]
For whom I store of books have left,
at each bookbinder’s stall
And part of all that London hath
to furnish them withal.
And when they are with study cloyed,
to recreate their mind,
Of tennis courts, of dancing schools,
and fence, they store shall find.
And every Sunday at the least,
I leave to make them sport, [140]
In divers places players, that
Of wonders shall report.
Now London have I, for thy sake,
within thee, and without,
As come into my memory,
Such needful things, as they should have
here left now unto thee:
When I am gone, with conscience
let them dispersed be. […] [150]
This xx. of October I,
in ANNO DOMINI:
A thousand v. hundred seventy three,
as almanacs do descry,
Did write this will with mine own hand
and it to London gave:
In witness of the standers-by,
whose name, if you will have,
Paper, pen and standish were,
at that time present by, [160]
With Time, who promised to reveal,
so fast as she could hie,
The same, lest of my nearer kin
for any thing should vary.
So finally I make an end,
no longer can I tarry.
FINIS. by Is. W