THE KNIGHT ERRAND: Being a witty, notable and true Relation of the Strange adventures OF Sir William Hart Now Prisoner in the Tower: His several exploits, cheats, and most witty tricks by him acted ever since his first being until his proclaiming the SCOTCH KING at WORCESTER, In August last.  
Written by J. B. Gent.  
London, Printed by E. C. 165●.   

THE Knight Errand.  
GUzman is famous through the world, for tricks that he hath played,  
Quixot is like renowned for justs, against the Windmills made,  
With other his adventures strange, poor Lazarillo too  
Is sung amongst the Spanish Bards, for feats that he did do.  
Our Hind amongst the English Pads, doth many one a excel;  
And Knowles from all the juggling wits, doth bear away the bell:  
With many equal unto these, who in print were never known,  
Who by their wits and cheating tricks, hath cozened many a one.  
Yet in praises of our Errand Knight, with me they'll bear a part,  
And all submit in feats of wit, to our Sir William Hart.  

Of Sir William Hart his strange birth, and of his being nourished by the Solan Geese; of his being found by a Fisherman; likewise how he left that trade and turned Moss Trooper.  
IT is a thing very difficile to give any exact account of the life or first production of this our doughty Knight, (the subject of this our story) being it is a matter that has not only been delivered in clouds unto all his acquaintance, and those that have heard of him; but even rest hid, as yet to the present Powers that question him, he being endued with the learned language of the Highlands, and as good Lowland Scotch, as any of his fellow prisoners, he pretending to be one of the Hungry nation; but since my Genius has received further light than any other touching this business, I will no longer hold the wondering World in admiration: It is a general conclusion amongst the learned, that a Mandrake proceeds from the seed of men that are hanged, that that radical moisture distilling from the Mentula, received by the earth, nourished and hatch by the Sun; but Sir William had a more strange conceivement. For in the year of our Lord, Anno 1611. several sail of Scots who had obtained leave and Patents of King James to transplant the Natives in the Ulster Plantation of Ireland; these ships being fraught with men, women and their families, setting out for Ireland, from Dumbarton, Ayer, and other Western parts of Scotland; But they had not sailed many hours with a prosperous jail, but the winds change, the Seas boil, and in fine the Elements conclude their overthrow (a just judgement; beware of Naboths garden, or another man's possession, it's not lawful) and to be brief, the storm waxes so violent, that in a short time away flies the main Masts, tackles, sails, etc. and splits, some against the rocks, some splits and sinks in the mouth of Asike, the River that parts Cumberland and Scotland, others by excessive leaks immediately sink; this so affrights the perishing passengers, that through excessive fear several women gave up their young, and in the end not one escapes: yet so it came to pass that one of the ships in which some of the Abortives were, being broken all to pieces, one of the untimely fruits floated upon a certain chest, and was beaten into a rocky cliff, a place the Sea seldom kissed, but in some such extravagant weather. This little lump was so much favoured by certain fowl called Solan Geese, which are of a strange nature, drobing from the sides and masts of drowned ships: these inhabiting in those clifty rocks, kindly nourishes and hatches our young one, who being fed with such fish as the fowls procured for the space of nine months; at the end of which time several fishermen used thereabouts a hadock fishing, one amongst the rest was by foul weather driven into the cliff where our Sir William lay, and finding that miracle, friendly takes him away, robbing the kind fostering birds of their prey; brings him home to his cave, where his wife kindly receives the child, giving it a mess of Poleloore, a dainty dish in in that country I can assure you. The stripling grows up to age of 12 years, at which time the old man takes him to Sea, where he assists in the trade of fishing for the term of five years: But in the mean time a disaster befalls him (for his father the Fisherman as he supposed) had a daughter (with whom they ligging awe together) it was his fortune to engender with: she proving fruitful as most of that country cattles are, forces our Billicoe Wully for fear of the Scotch damnable Inquisition, that wayfull steule of Repentance, to leap into the Lawlands into Anandayle where he was entertained by a Moss Trooper to be Sub-Cow-stealer.  
Thus have you heard how strange our Hart,  
Preserved was from this wrack.  
And that when others drowned, were in the Sea,  
The Billows beat him back.  
Which makes me shrewdly to conclude,  
In reference to our Knight,  
That maugre all the Winds and Seas,  
The Rope will have its right.   

How Sir William Hart became famous amongst the Moss Troopers by robbing my Lord William Howard of the North; likewise how he cozened them and came disguised into England.  
THE Mosse-Troopers are your Scots that dwell in Nidesdayle, Anandale, the Marsh country and other adjacent parts upon England, some in Gilsland, and in the Mosses of Cumberland, these fellows are Country men, which keep good horses, are well armed, and in fine, are notable resolved thiefs, being numerous, having for shelter their Caves in the Mosses and Mountains where they inhabit: unto one of the chiefest of these was our Sir William an appendix whose name was Kinman, famous for his felonies; these Blades had been much persecuted by my Lord Howard of Naworth upon the borders of Carlyle, many plots of revenge had they had against the said Lord. But none to any great purpose, by reason of the great fear they stood in of him; but upon Hearts being admitted to their Counsel, they resolve to try their fate (thus:) Sir William and another that had attained to the English tongue, having laid Kinman with his crew betwixt Naworth and Brantree, and another party between Naworth and Carlyle, away comes my two Kendal men (for so Sir Willy and his associate termed themselves to be) to Naworth, where after a long narration of their being robbed by Kinman, and his crew not far from thence, as they were going to Brantree from Perith Fair with commodities, also that they were confident, he had not passed the the town, but lay in wait for a further prize, whereupon my Lord causes his men to arm and horse themselves and go in pursuit of these thiefs, with Heart's comrade for their guide Sir Wully staying behind, having his head broke a purpose, pretetending debility through his wounds. This being in the close of the evening, the guide leads my Lords men up and down until it was midnight before they came upon Kinman, who unawares upon the watch word from the guide breaks out upon Naworth men, in the mean time Sir William steals out of the Castles, sets fire on the Barnnes, stables and outhouses and hasts away to the other party by Carlyle, packs away part of them like Country men for Naworth with all speed as assistants to slack the fire, which was much increased by reason of the time of night, the small number that was left about the house to assuage it these Hacks so behaved themselves that whilst the family run confusedly and amazed up and down, they rob several rooms of a great deal of treasure, and so escaped in the middle of this hurley burley; Back comes those that had been in pursuit of Kinman, cut and beaten, stripped, and dismounted, crying out they had been betrayed by a false Scot, whilst Kinman, Hart, and their comrades were marching through Asike up to their dens, well laden with a rich prize; this plot taking so good effect, proclaims our Sir William famous amongst the Mossetroopers, who honour him now as much as the Senate of Rome did their perpetual dictator, he perceiving the influence he had upon them they being gathered together in council, he thus delivers himself unto them; I make no doubt, but it is well known unto you all, that how these devils digged out of the Indies, (viZ.) Gold and Silver, are become the Idols of the earth, and that their power ransom Kings, saves the condemned from the jaws of death, and leads captives the desires of the World; it being thus my Bulleys, I think a treasury amongst us would be a greater safety to us then our dens, holes, and skulking places, by the virtue of which we might release any of our fellows from captivity when fallen therein by any adventure. This project is approved of, and they conclude to treasure up the tithe of all their gain in the hands of Sir William and one more of their chief, to the intent above mentioned; which in few years (contrary to the Proverb) amounts to a very large sum, which our Knight perceiving, having drawn in one of the sub-theeves as his man, having horses and other things necessary robs his fellow treasurer of the money, who was the next day dirged by the Mossetroopers for a Conspirator in the fact, notwithstanding his innocency: But our Sir William escaped so well, that you shall find him presently a banished Knight out of Ireland amongst the then Noble housekeepers the Catholics of Lancashire.  
Now all ye Scots behold and see,  
how your Repentant Stool  
Made this our doughty Errand Knight  
become more Knave than Fowl.  
Though he by silly birds were fed,  
who from guilt and fraud are free.  
Yet for creeping to his sister's bed,  
my Bulley was fain to flee,  
And as the Mossetroopers can tell,  
he being turned lose;  
They Gods wot●ken full well,  
he proved more Fox than Goose.   

How Sir William Hart robbed a Roman Catholic in Lancashire.  
AT Kirby Loyndsdayle our Sir William puts himself and his in Noble equipage, and under the notion of an Irish Knight he sets on upon his progress, falling into society with several Gentlemen of Lancashire and was well liked of, having a fluent tongue, being full of gold and silver, hunting a week here and a week there, always largely giving to the servants wheresoever he came, which made him be cried up for the bravest Gentleman that came within their Master's doors, but coming on he betakes himself to one of the richest Catholics houses in that Country, Mr. Preston by name, and there seemingly betakes himself to his devotions, (he was but a seeming Saint God wots) Lent running on he charges his man to have ready their horses against Maunday Thursday at night; the day coming that family with many others of the said Religion were at their devotion, Sir William likewise. Now as they were at their Ceremonies singing the Lamentations in the Chapel, the Altar being most sumptuously dressed, when they came to the passage of representing how Judas came to take our Saviour, at which time they put out all the lights, than I say, did our Knight step to the Altar nimbly (though profanely) dismantling that sacred place of a world of rich Jewels, and stealing out of the Chapel to his horses, and away which caused at the relighting of the Tapers the Lamentations to be renewed, many being taxed, the Knight not suspected, which gave a greater scope to his escape.  
Thus did he with Religion cloak  
his Sacrilegious act:  
And in the Holy Altar smoke,  
Judas- like commit the fact.  
To mow the lass, was not so bad,  
that's but a fleshly sin.  
Nor when he was Mossetrooper lad  
for them the prize to win.  
But by pretence of Holy prayer,  
to do so bad a thing,  
Will to the world appear most rare,  
if that he scape the swing.   

How Sir William Hart after his Robbery in Lancashire, upon his Journey towards London, lights into a rich Inn in Warwickshire, and by a wile marries the man's daughter of the House.  
OUr Knight after his Robbery at Mr. Prestons' flies towards London, making no stop but what necessity forced him to, and lighting into an Inn not far from Coventry, he resolves to rest himself some days there; which he accordingly doth, and observing his Host he finds him a notable Cavalier and of a believing nature, which sets Sir William's wits a grinding, the man's daughter being handsome, and Sir William's kisses, compliments and glances amorous, But observed with a majestic distance by Sir William, his man not failing his part, the house much listen and hearken to find out what our Noble man was, who fits them for their hearking, his man always being telling him, when they where harkening what a disgrace it would be for him a Lords son and heir to match with an Innkeeper's daughter: but Sir William calls him rogue, swearing maugre the world he would have her, this being heard by his Host and his daughter at several times they rejoice infinitely; otherwhiles his man would be at him saying, Please your Honour send me to this Lord or that, naming persons of Honour, they will think themselves obliged to furnish you with an hundred pound or two; which the man of the house overhearing, causes his daughter to furnish the Knight upon all occasions, which so sweetens him that he in a short time marries her, has to boot most of her father's wealth, and all this to be a Lady.  
To the world nothing is more common,  
Then the proud ambition of a woman.  
Eve our first father did deceive,  
And of that heavenly bliss did us bereave,  
Which none but Adam ere did know,  
Pride having wrought our overthrow▪  
For which proud fact women oft doth smart,  
As for example take our lady Hart.   

How Sir William Hart came to London, where living at a high rate, at last Cozened a Linen Draper living upon Ludgate-hill of an hundred and forty pounds in moneys and for lodging.  
NOw behold our mighty match marching towards London, Sir William and his Lady  their train, men and maids upon tired jades, etc. hither they come, and whilst the merry money lasts (Fly brass the Devils a tinker, and so was Major Rumball) our jovyall crew spares for no cost, which exhausts in a short time the most of their treasure; Expectation frustrated, breeds jars, This is the cause of our domestic wars; for in the change of twelve months, Sir William Hart got rid both of wife and portion; the one he consumes, the other he packs into the Country: and then betakes him to his wits, and whilst he has something left takes him lodgings at a Linen drapers upon Ludgate-hill, passing after his old mode for some great man in disguise, strange Company he keeps, and many shifts he makes, keeping his credit still good at his Lodging: at last coming acquainted with a Hollander, he discourses concerning the trade of Linen, and grows expert in the function; one night drinking a cup of Sack with his Landlord, he acquaints him that he had a sum of three hundred pound in bank in Holland, and that he intended to have it over in so many barrels of Bag holland, and thereupon writes a formal letter before his Landlord for holland; in less than a month's time the holland comes barrelled up, is brought and stored up in his Landlord's seller: Sir William and his Landlord goes down knocks open one of the barrels, views the top where was four or five pieces of good holland, and after a little while returns into his Chamber again; within a day or two following Sir William Hart comes to his Landlord, and desires, to satisfy a pressing debt, immediately a hundred and forty pounds, and in lieu of that courtesy he told him he would afford him a penny worth in his holland, the Landlord makes what haste he can and provides him with the sum aforesaid, which our Knight being possessed of, he told his Landlord he would be within to see the cloth delivered out; but certainly some serious occasion drew him aside, for he never saw his Landlord since: who having stayed some two or three days in expectation, at last, breaks open the barrels where he finds the top of each covered with a piece of holland, and under neath the barrels were well stuffed with good green turf, in all to the value of twelve pence or there abouts: which when the poor Linen draper saw he was ready to sink through sorrow, but alas! to no purpose, for the Knight was flown half way into Worcester-shire.  
This cheating (Sir Kn.) will last but for a while,  
These facts of yours will bring you to a fall.  
Though the Linen-draper poor you did beguile,  
And through cozening some, do hope to cousin all.  
Yet at Worcester (as I take it) not long ago,  
You're beaten, taken, yea and stripped I trow.   

How Sir William Hart being taken a Prisoner at Worcester had leave to lie in a Burgesses house of the town, where a certain Dancing master taught, by reason of which he fell in league with a young Gentlewoman one Mrs. Dorothy, whom he cheated of ten pounds.  
OUr Sir William having played jegier du pirde from London, steers his course by the north west road for Scotland, it being then the receptacle of such blades, the great number of English that came in with the Scots, consisting for the most part of such hacks. But at or near unto Sturbridge in Worcestershire, our Knight is taken by some of the County troop upon suspicion, being armed with Pistols he and his man, he pretends to belong to the Army, but there his tale failing him, he is brought before Colonel James the governor of Worcester, where after examination he is committed a prisoner to a townsemans' house in the Cookeing-street where one Hall a danceing master taught several young Gentlewomen to dance; this Le Frisk our dancing master had been an arch Cavalier in the former wars; into whom our knight insinuates himself spending upon him most liberally, which causes him (Cats guts and rossen) to swear to all his acquaintance, that he was for certain some disguised Prince, and so commends him amongst his scholars, that several of the female Cavaliers gins to resent him, and one amongst the rest especially affects him, which love of hers, may be from these reasons, she being the governess of her Grandmother, and of her jointure some three hundred pounds a year, not far from that City; the indulgence of the old Gentlewoman being the ruin of the younger, her feature and complexion being none of the rarest; her portion but reasonable, but her thoughts ambitions, proud, as Ixion's; this Lady fancies our Sir William, loves him, who perceives her a Platonic lover, he frames accordingly several glances, sighs, wring of the hands, trembling kisses, and amorous verses, which brings our Gentlewoman into so strong a conceit of being a Lady, that she observes the distance of one already: She invites her servant to her Grandmother hoame unto several Suppers and Collations, and in the height of all this their joylity, comes the Scotch King with his tarpallians to town, and then hay boys, who but our Knight proclaims him at the market Cross and the next day to Court as Bravely harnessed as one of the Golden fellows that strikes the Quarters at Bow church in Cheap side, and afterwards to their old exercise of Carousing and feasting, where our Lady Dorothy is seated at the upper end of the board, our Knight sends to his Mistress for ten pieces; which is sent immediately, the next day he meets her, and to congratulate her favour, presents her with a blue bead Ring worth six pence, under the notion of a turkey stone, likewise invites her and her Grandmother that night to supper, to a pig and other rare dishes. But in the interim, mark what befalls, our forces the same day routs the Bullies, and all the fats in the fire, our Knights taken, brought to London and clapped prisoner in the Tower: Mrs. Dorothy follows, but there contrary to her expectation finds Sir William Harts Wife with three or four Children, whereupon she sent to him for herten pounds, and receives in lieu thereof a bad answer, the grief of which caused the rivulets of her eyes to inundate the marygolds of her cheeks, (roses I should have said, but I am jack tell troth) and back to Worcester-shire she is gone with a sad heart God wots.  
Thus Mrs. Dorothy with a pensive mind,  
Is gone and left her Ladyship behind.  
The ring proves false, her money's lost,  
And thus you see how her Ambition's crossed.  
Thus Reader mayst thou gexesse pede Hercules,  
Our Knights whole life to have done such pranks as these.  
And if thou fanciest this our Sir William Hart,  
I do assure thee of a second part.   
FINIS.