# History of two brothers misfortunes/The Comical History of Simple John

the
COMICAL HISTORY
of
SIMPLE JOHN, &c.
Simple John, was a widow's son, and a coarse country weaver to his trade; he made nothing but such as canvas for cassbeds, corn and coal-sacks, druggit and harn was the finest webs he could lay his fingers to; he was a great lump of a long lean lad, about six feet high before he was eighteen years old, and as he said himself, he grew sae fast, and was in sic a hurry to be high, that he did not stay to bring a' his judgment with him, but yet he hoped it would follow him, and he would meet wi't as mony a ane does, after they're married; he had but ae sister, and she had as little sense himself; she was married to sleeky Willy the wylie weaver, his mither was a rattling-scull'd wife, and they lived a'in ae house, and every body held them as a family of fools. When ​John came to man's state to the age of twenty-one years, he tell'd his mither he wou'd hae a wife of some sort either young or auld, widow or lass, if they had but head, hips, tongue and tail, he should tak them, and weel I wat mither quoth he they'll get a lumping penny worth o' me, take me wha' will.
His mither tells him o' the black butcher on Ti'ot side, who had three dochters, and every one o' them had something, there was Kate, Ann, and Grizy, had a hundred merks the piece; Kate and Ann had both bastards, Grizy, the eldest, had a hump-back, high-breast, baker-legged, a short wry neck, thrawn mouth, and goggle ey'd, a perfect Æsop of the female kind, with as many crooked conditions within as without, a very lump of loun-like ill nature, row'd a' together as if she had been nine months in a haggies, a second edition of crooked Richard an old English king, that was born wi' teeth to bite a' round about him, and yet the wight gaed mad to be married.
John's mother tell'd him the road where to go, and what to say, and accordingly he sets out wi' his Sunday's coat on and a his braws, and a pair o' new pillonian breeks o' his ​mither’s making. In he comes, and tells his errand before he would sit down, says, good day to you good maun, what are you a’ doing here? I am wanting a wife, and ye’re a flesher, and has gude sorting aside you; my mither says, ye may sair me or ony body like, what say you till’t good, how many dochters have ye? are they a’ married yet? I wad fain take a look o' them gin ye like.
A wow said the goodwife, come in my honest lad and rest you, and be ye wooer, sit down and gi’s a snuff: a deed goodwife I hae nae mills but my mither’s and its at hame, whare win ye I’se no ken yet? I wat quoth he, my name’s Jock Sandeman, they ca’ me Simple John the sack weaver, I hae no tocher but my loom, a pirn wheel, a kettle-pat, a brass pan, twa piggs, four cogs and a candlestick, a gude cock, a cat, twa herocks new begun to lay; my sister Sara is married to sleeky Willy the wylie weaver, and I maun hae a hag wife or my mither die, for truly she’s very frail, and ony harle o’ meat she has is about dinner-time; what say you till’t goodman? can ye buckle me or no?
Goodman. A dear John ye’re in a unco haste, ye wadna hae your wife hame wi’ ye? they’re a three before ye, which o’ them will ye tak?
​Hout hout, says John, ony o’ them ’ill fare me, but my mither says there’s twa o’ them has fauts; and what is their fauts, said the goodwife? Hout, said John, its no a meikle faut, but I do nae like it, they got men or they were married: and what shall I do wi' them? said the goodman?
John. A deed goodman, as ye’er ay dealing among dead beasts and living beasts, I w’d put them awa’ amang other beasts, or gin ye be aun ony penny, let some body tak them up o’ desperate debt, I sude flee the sykes frae them, they anger’d you and sham’d you baith wi' their bastards, a wheen daft jades gets men or they are married, & bairns or they get bridals.
Goodwife. A wat well that’s true lad.
Grizy. A well John than, will ye tak me? I had nae bastards; how will you and I do?
John. I watna gin ye be able to get a bastard, yet ye may hae some war fault; ye maun be my penny worth, for ye’re unco little, and I’m o’er muckle, and gin ye and I war ance carded thro’ ither, we may get bonny weans o’ a middle mak: I hae nae fauts to ye, but ye hae a high breast, a humph ​back, a short neck, and high shoulders, the hands and legs may do, though your mouth be a wee to the tae side, it will ly well to the cock, and I hae a handle or twa to spin, will be baith sarks and sacks till us, ye’ll be my ⟨sonsy⟩ dauty up and down, a perfect beauty, wi’ cat’s yellow een, black brows & red lips, and your very nose is a purpey colour, ye have nae fauts at a’; now whan will ye be married?
Grizy. Ha, ha, John lad, we maun think on that yet.—John, what the yeltow lass, ye shoud’a be ready when I’m ready, and every body says the women is ay ready.—Goodman, ye’ll hae to come back, and bring somebody wi’ you, and we’ll gree about it and set the day whan ye’ll be married.—John, A well goodman I’ll tell my mither on’t, and come back on Monday, and we’ll hae a chappin o’ ale and roasted cheese on the good chance o’t; but I maun hae a word o’ two with the bride, but-by to convoy me, and a quiet speak to herself about it.
After a long and fair tulzie, they were married, when Grizy paid him back and side, and always called him the yellow wam'd weaver, and cuff’d him with her nieves until hat and wig all went off. So John appealed to ​a Jedburgh jury, if it is not easier to ⟨deal⟩ with fools than, headstrong fouk; owns ⟨he⟩ has but an empty scull, but his wicked ⟨wife⟩ wants wit to poor judgment into it.