A Token That His Guest He Doth Esteeme. Where He Is Wont To Haue A Beares Skinne For His Bed,

And must, in stead of pillow, clap his saddle to his head. In Russia other shift there is not to

Be had, For where the bedding is not good, the boalsters are but bad I mused very much, what made them so to lie, Sith in their countrey Downe is rife, and feathers out of crie: Vnlesse it be because the countrey is so hard, They feare by nicenesse of a bed their bodies would be mard, I wisht thee oft with vs, saue that I stood in feare Thou wouldst haue loathed to haue layd thy limmes vpon a beare, As I and Stafford did, that was my mate in bed: And yet (we thanke the God of heauen) we both right well haue sped. Loe thus I make an ende: none other newes to thee, But that the countrey is too colde, the people beastly bee. I write not all I know, I touch but here and there, For if I should, my penne would pinch, and eke offend I feare. Who so shall read this verse, coniecture of the rest, And thinke by reason of our trade, that I do thinke the best. But if no traffique were, then could I boldly pen The hardnesse of the soile, and eke the maners of the men. They say the Lions paw giues iudgement of the beast: And so may you deeme of the great, by reading of the least.

[Footenote: _Suggested emendation_: Them.]

To Parker. [Footnote: Matthew Parker, Archbishop of Canterbury. See an excellent account of him and his writings in Allibone's Dictionary.]

My Parker, paper, pen, and inke were made to write, And idle heads, that little do, haue leisure to indite: Wherefore, respecting these, and thine assured loue, If I would write no newes to thee, them might'st my pen reproue. And sithence fortune thus hath shou'd my shippe on shore: And made me seeke another Realme vnseene of me before: The maners of the men I purpose to declare. And other priuate points besides, which strange and geazon are. The Russie men are round of bodies, fully fac'd, The greatest part with bellies bigge that ouerhang the waste, Flat headed for the most, with faces nothing faire, But browne, by reason of the stone, and closenesse of the aire: It is their common vse to shaue or els to sheare Their heads, for none in all the land long lolling locks doth weare, Vnlsse perhaps he haue his souereigne prince displeas'd, For then he neuer cuts his haire, vntil he be appeas'd, A certaine signe to know who in displeasure be, For euery man that viewes his head, will say, Loe this is he. And during all the time he lets his locks to grow, Dares no man for his life to him a face of friendship show. Their garments be not gay, nor handsome to the eye, A cap aloft their heads they haue, that standeth very hie, Which Colpack they do terme.

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