Chapter XVII: Part 17

_Ge._ _Maccus_ indeed escap'd the Shoemaker, but did not escape the Thief.

_Po._ Why so?

_Ge._ Because he carried the Thief along with him.

_Po._ Perhaps he might not have Money at that Time, but paid for 'em afterwards.

_Ge._ He might have indicted him for a Robbery.

_Po._ That was attempted afterwards, but now the Magistrates knew _Maccus_.

_Ge._ What did _Maccus_ say for himself?

_Po._ Do you ask what he said for himself, in so good a Cause as this? The Plaintiff was in more Danger than the Defendant.

_Ge._ How so?

_Po._ Because he arrested him in an Action of Defamation, and prosecuted him upon the Statute of _Rheims_ which says, that he that charges a Man with what he can't prove, shall suffer the Penalty, which the Defendant was to suffer if he had been convicted. He deny'd that he had meddled with another Man's Goods without his Leave, but that he put 'em upon him, and that there was no Mention made of any Thing of a Price; but that he challeng'd the Shoemaker to run for a Wager, and that he accepted the Challenge, and that he had no Reason to complain because he had out-run him.

_Ge._ This Action was pretty much like that of the Shadow of the Ass. Well, but what then?

_Po._ When they had had laughing enough at the Matter, one of the Judges invites _Maccus_ to Supper, and paid the Shoemaker his Money. Just such another Thing happen'd at _Daventerv_, when I was a Boy. It was at a Time when 'tis the Fishmonger's Fair, and the Butchers Time to be starv'd. A certain Man stood at a Fruiterer's Stall, or Oporopolist's, if you'd have it in _Greek_. The Woman was a very fat Woman, and he star'd very hard upon the Ware she had to sell. She, according as the Custom is, invites him to have what he had a Mind to; and perceiving he set his Eyes upon some Figs, Would you please to have Figs, says she? they are very fine ones. He gives her a Nod. She asks him how many Pound, Would you have five Pound says she? He nods again; she turns him five Pound into his Apron. While she is laying by her Scales, he walks off, not in any great haste, but very gravely. When she comes out to take her Money, her Chap was gone; she follows him, making more Noise than Haste after him. He, taking no Notice, goes on; at last a great many getting together at the Woman's Out-cry, he stands still, pleads his Cause in the midst of the Multitude: there was very good Sport, he denies that he bought any Figs of her, but that she gave 'em him freely; if she had a Mind to have a Trial for it, he would put in an Appearance.

_Ge._ Well, I'll tell you a Story not much unlike yours, nor perhaps not much inferior to it, saving it has not so celebrated an Author as _Maccus_. _Pythagoras_ divided the Market into three Sorts of Persons, those that went thither to sell, those that went thither to buy; both these Sorts were a careful Sort of People, and therefore unhappy: others came to see what was there to be sold, and what was done; these only were the happy People, because being free from Care, they took their Pleasure freely. And this he said was the Manner that a Philosopher convers'd in this World, as they do in a Market. But there is a fourth Kind of Persons that walk about in our Markets, who neither buy nor sell, nor are idle Spectators of what others do, but lie upon the Catch to steal what they can. And of this last Sort there are some that are wonderful dextrous. You would swear they were born under a lucky Planet. Our Entertainer gave us a Tale with an Epilogue, I'll give you one with a Prologue to it. Now you shall hear what happen'd lately at _Antwerp_. An old Priest had receiv'd there a pretty handsome Sum of Money, but it was in Silver. A Sharper has his Eye upon him; he goes to the Priest, who had put his Money in a large Bag in his Cassock, where it boug'd out; he salutes him very civilly, and tells him that he had Orders to buy a Surplice, which is the chief Vestment us'd in performing Divine Service, for the Priest of his Parish; he intreats him to lend him a little Assistance in this Matter, and to go with him to those that sell such Attire, that he might fit one according to his Size, because he was much about the same Stature with the Parson of his Parish. This being but a small Kindness, the old Priest promises to do it very readily. They go to a certain Shop, a Surplice is shew'd 'em, the old Priest puts it on, the Seller says, it fits him as exactly as if made for him; the Sharper viewing the old Priest before and behind, likes the Surplice very well, but only found Fault that it was too short before. The Seller, lest he should lose his Customer, says, that was not the Fault of the Surplice, but that the Bag of Money that stuck out, made it look shorter there. To be short, the old Priest lays his Bag down; then they view it over again, and while the old Priest stands with his Back towards it, the Sharper catches it up, and runs away as fast as he could: The Priest runs after him in the Surplice as he was, and the Shop-Keeper after the Priest; the old Priest cries out, Stop Thief; the Salesman cries out, Stop the Priest; the Sharper cries out, Stop the mad Priest; and they took him to be mad, when they saw him run in the open Street in such a Dress: so one hindring the other, the Sharper gets clear off.

_Eut._ Hanging is too good for such a Rogue.

_Ge._ It is so, if he be not hang'd already.

_Eut._ I would not have him hang'd only, but all those that encourage such monstrous Rogues to the Damage of the State.

_Ge._ They don't encourage 'em for nothing; there's a fellow Feeling between 'em from the lowest to the highest.

_Eut._ Well, but let us return to our Stories again.

_Ast._ It comes to your Turn now, if it be meet to oblige a King to keep his Turn.

_Eut._ I won't need to be forc'd to keep my Turn, I'll keep it voluntarily; I should be a Tyrant and not a King, if I refus'd to comply with those Laws I prescribe to others.

_Ast._ But some Folks say, that a Prince is above the Law.

_Eut._ That saying is not altogether false, if by Prince you mean that great Prince who was call'd _Cæsar_; and then, if by being above the Law, you mean, that whereas others do in some Measure keep the Laws by Constraint, he of his own Inclination more exactly observes them. For a good Prince is that to the Body Politick, which the Mind is to the Body Natural. What Need was there to have said a good Prince, when a bad Prince is no Prince? As an unclean Spirit that possesses the human Body, is not the Soul of that Body. But to return to my Story; and I think that as I am King, it becomes me to tell a kingly Story. _Lewis_ King of _France_ the Eleventh of that Name, when his Affairs were disturb'd at Home, took a Journey to _Burgundy_; and there upon the Occasion of a Hunting, contracted a Familiarity with one _Conon_, a Country Farmer, but a plain downright honest Man; and Kings delight in the Conversation of such Men. The King, when he went a hunting, us'd often to go to his House; and as great Princes do sometimes delight themselves with mean Matters, he us'd to be mightily pleas'd in eating of his Turnips. Not long after, _Lewis_ having settled his Affairs, obtain'd the Government of the _French_ Nation; _Conon_'s Wife puts him upon remembring the King of his old Entertainment at their House, bids him go to him, and make him a Present of some rare Turnips. _Conon_ at first would not hear of it, saying he should lose his Labour, for that Princes took no Notice of such small Matters; but his Wife over-persuaded him. _Conon_ picks out a Parcel of choice Turnips, and gets ready for his Journey; but growing hungry by the Way, eats 'em all up but one very large one. When _Conon_ had got Admission into the Hall that the King was to pass thro', the King knew him presently, and sent for him; and he with a great Deal of Chearfulness offers his Present, and the King with as much Readiness of Mind receives it, commanding one that stood near him to lay it up very carefully among his greatest Rarities. He commands _Conon_ to dine with him, and after Dinner thanks him; and _Conon_ being desirous to go back into his own Country, the King orders him 1000 Crowns for his Turnip. When the Report of this Thing, as it is common, was spread abroad thro' the King's Houshold-Servants, one of the Courtiers presents the King with a very fine Horse; the King knowing that it was his Liberality to _Conon_ that had put him upon this, he hoping to make a great Advantage by it, he accepted it with a great Deal of Pleasure, and calling a Council of his Nobles, began to debate, with what Present he should make a Recompence for so fine and valuable a Horse. In the mean Time the Giver of the Horse began to be flushed with Expectation, thinking thus with himself; If he made such a Recompence for a poor Turnip offer'd him by a Country Farmer, how much more magnificently will he requite the Present of so fine a Horse by a Courtier? When one answer'd one Thing, and another another to the King that was consulting about it, as a Matter of great Moment, and the designing Courtier had been for a long Time kept in Fools Paradise; At Length, says the King, it's just now come into my Mind what Return to make him, and calling one of his Noblemen to him, whispers him in the Ear, bids him go fetch him what he found in his Bedchamber (telling him the Place where it lay) choicely wrap'd up in Silk; the Turnip is brought, and the King with his own Hand gives it the Courtier, wrap'd up as it was, saying that he thought he had richly requited the Present of the Horse by so choice a Rarity, as had cost him 1000 Crowns. The Courtier going away, and taking off the Covering, did not find a _Coal instead of a Treasure_, according to the old Proverb, but a dry Turnip: and so the Biter was bitten, and soundly laugh'd at by every Body into the Bargain.

_As._ But, Mr. King, if you'll please to permit me, who am but a Peasant, to speak of regal Matters, I'll tell you something that comes into my Mind, by hearing your Story, concerning the same _Lewis_. For as one Link of a Chain draws on another, so one Story draws on another. A certain Servant seeing a Louse crawling upon the King's Coat, falling upon his Knees and lifting up his Hand, gives Notice, that he had a Mind to do some Sort of Service; _Lewis_ offering himself to him, he takes off the Louse, and threw it away privately; the King asks him what it was; he seem'd ashamed to tell him, but the King urging him, he confess'd it was a Louse: That's a very good Sign, says he, for it shews me to be a Man, because this Sort of Vermin particularly haunts Mankind, especially while they are young; and order'd him a Present of 40 Crowns for his good Service. Some Time after, another Person (who had seen how well he came off that had perform'd so small a Service) not considering that there is a great Difference between doing a Thing sincerely, and doing it craftily, approached the King with the like Gesture; and he offering himself to him, he made a Shew of taking something off his Garment, which he presently threw away. But when the King was urgent upon him, seeming unwilling to tell what it was, mimicking Abundance of Modesty, he at last told him it was a Flea; the King perceiving the Fraud, says to him, What do you make a Dog of me? and orders him to be taken away, and instead of 40 Crowns orders him 40 Stripes.

_Phily._ I hear it's no good jesting with Kings; for as Lions will sometimes stand still to be stroaked, are Lions again when they please, and kill their Play-Fellow; just so Princes play with Men. But I'll tell you a Story not much unlike yours: not to go off from _Lewis_, who us'd to take a Pleasure in tricking Tricksters. He had receiv'd a Present of ten thousand Crowns from some Place, and as often as the Courtiers know the King has gotten any fresh Money, all the Officers are presently upon the Hunt to catch some Part of it; this _Lewis_ knew very well, this Money being pour'd out upon a Table, he, to raise all their Expectations, thus bespeaks them; What say you, am not I a very rich King? Where shall I bestow all this Money? It was presented to me, and I think it is meet I should make Presents of it again. Where are all my Friends, to whom I am indebted for their good Services? Now let 'em come before this Money's gone. At that Word a great many came running; every Body hop'd to get some of it. The King taking Notice of one that look'd very wishfully upon it, and as if he would devour it with his Eyes, turning to him, says, Well, Friend, what have you to say? He inform'd the King, that he had for a long Time very faithfully kept the King's Hawks, and been at a great Expence thereby. One told him one Thing, another another, every one setting out his Service to the best Advantage, and ever and anon lying into the Bargain. The King heard 'em all very patiently, and approv'd of what they said. This Consultation held a long Time, that he might teaze them the more, by keeping them betwixt Hope and Despair. Among the rest stood the Great Chancellor, for the King had order'd him to be sent for too; he, being wiser than the rest, says never a Word of his own good Services, but was only a Spectator of the Comedy. At Length the King turning toward him, says, Well, what says my Chancellor to the Matter? He is the only Man that asks nothing, and says never a Word of his good Services. I, says the Chancellor, have receiv'd more already from your royal Bounty, than I have deserved. I am so far from craving more, that I am not desirous of any Thing so much, as to behave myself worthy of the royal Bounty I have receiv'd. Then, says the King, you are the only Man of 'em all that does not want Money. Says the Chancellor, I must thank your Bounty that I don't. Then he turns to the others, and says, I am the most magnificent Prince in the World, that have such a wealthy Chancellor. This more inflam'd all their Expectations, that the Money would be distributed among them, since he desired none of it. When the King had play'd upon 'em after this Manner a pretty While, he made the Chancellor take it all up, and carry it Home; then turning to the rest, who now look'd a little dull upon it, says he, You must stay till the next Opportunity.

_Philog._ Perhaps that I'm going to tell you, will not seem so entertaining. However, I entreat you that you would not be suspicious, that I use any Deceit or Collusion, or think that I have a Design to desire to be excus'd. One came to the same _Lewis_, with a Petition that he would bestow upon him an Office that happen'd to be vacant in the Town where he liv'd. The King hearing the Petition read, answers immediately, you shall not have it; by that Means putting him out of any future Expectation; the Petitioner immediately returns the King Thanks, and goes his Way. The King observing the Man's Countenance, perceiv'd he was no Blockhead, and thinking perhaps he might have misunderstood what he said, bids him be call'd back again. He came back; then says the King; Did you understand what I said to you? I did understand you, quoth he: Why, what did I say? That I should not have it, said he. What did you thank me for then? Why, says he, I have some Business to do at Home, and therefore it would have been a Trouble to me to have here danc'd Attendance after a doubtful Hope; now, I look upon it a Benefit that you have denied me the Office quickly, and so I count myself to have gain'd whatsoever I should have lost by Attendance upon it, and gone without it at last. By this Answer, the King seeing the Man to be no Blockhead, having ask'd him a few Questions, says he, You shall have what you ask'd for, that you may thank me twice, and turning to his Officers; Let, says he, Letters patent be made out for this Man without Delay, that he may not be detain'd here to his Detriment.

_Eugl._ I could tell you a Story of _Lewis_, but I had rather tell one of our _Maximilian_, who as he was far from hiding his Money in the Ground, so he was very generous to those that had spent their Estates, if they were nobly descended. He being minded to assist a young Gentleman, that had fallen under these Circumstances, sent him on an Embassy to demand an hundred thousand Florins of a certain City, but I know not upon what Account. But this was the Condition of it, that if he by his Dexterity could make any more of it, it should be his own. The Embassador extorted fifty thousand from 'em, and gave _Caesar_ thirty of 'em. _Caesar_ being glad to receive more than he expected, dismisses the Man without asking any Questions. In the mean Time the Treasurer and Receivers smelt the Matter, that he had receiv'd more than he had paid in; they importune _Caesar_ to send for him; he being sent for, comes immediately: Says _Maximilian_, I hear you have receiv'd fifty thousand. He confess'd it. But you have paid in but thirty thousand. He confess'd that too. Says he, You must give an Account of it. He promis'd he would do it, and went away. But again he doing nothing in it, the Officers pressing the Matter, he was call'd again; then says _Caesar_ to him, A little While ago, you were order'd to make up the Account. Says he, I remember it, and am ready to do it. _Caesar_, imagining that he had not settled it, let him go again; but he thus eluding the Matter, the Officers insisted more pressingly upon it, crying out, it was a great Affront to play upon _Caesar_ at this Rate. They persuaded the King to send for him, and make him balance the Account before them. _Caesar_ agrees to it, he is sent for, comes immediately, and does not refuse to do any Thing. Then says _Caesar_, Did not you promise to balance the Account? Yes, said he. Well, says he, you must do it here; here are some to take your Account; it must be put off no longer. The Officers sat by, with Books ready for the Purpose. The young Man being come to this Pinch, replies very smartly; Most invincible _Caesar_, I don't refuse to give an Account, but am not very well skilled in these Sort of Accounts, never having given any; but these that sit here are very ready at such Accounts. If I do but once see how they make up such Accounts, I can very easily imitate them. I entreat you to command them but to shew me an Example, and they shall see I am very docible. _Caesar_ perceived what he meant, but they, upon whom it was spoken did not, and smiling, answered him, you say true, and what you demand is nothing but what is reasonable: And so dismissed the young Man. For he intimated that they used to bring in such Accounts to _Caesar_ as he had, that is, to keep a good Part of the Money to themselves.

_Le._ Now 'tis Time that our Story-telling should pass, as they say, from better to worse, from Kings to _Anthony_, a Priest of _Louvain_, who was much in Favour with _Philip_ surnamed _the Good_: there are a great many Things told of this Man, both merrily said, and wittily done, but most of them are something slovenly. For he used to season many of his Jokes with a Sort of Perfume that has not a handsome Sound, but a worse Scent. I'll pick out one of the cleanest of 'em. He had given an Invitation to one or two merry Fellows that he had met with by Chance as he went along; and when he comes Home, he finds a cold Kitchen; nor had he any Money in his Pocket, which was no new Thing with him; here was but little Time for Consultation. Away he goes, and says nothing, but going into the Kitchen of a certain Usurer (that was an intimate Acquaintance, by Reason of frequent Dealings with him) when the Maid was gone out of the Way, he makes off with one of the Brass Pots, with the Meat ready boiled, under his Coat, carries it Home, gives it his Cook-Maid, and bids her pour out the Meat and Broth into another Earthen Pot, and rub the Usurer's Brass one till it was bright. Having done this, he sends his Boy to the Pawn-Broker to borrow two Groats upon it, but charges him to take a Note, that should be a Testimonial, that such a Pot had been sent him. The Pawn-Broker not knowing the Pot being scour'd so bright, takes the Pawn, gives him a Note, and lays him down the Money, and with that Money the Boy buys Wine, and so he provided an Entertainment for him. By and by, when the Pawn-Broker's Dinner was going to be taken up, the Pot was missing. He scolds at the Cook-Maid; she being put hardly to it, affirmed no Body had been in the Kitchen all that Day but _Anthony_. It seem'd an ill Thing to suspect a Priest. But however at last they went to him, search'd the House for the Pot, but no Pot was found. But in short, they charg'd him Home with the Pot, because he was the only Person who had been in the Kitchen till the Pot was missing. He confess'd that he had borrow'd a Pot, but that he had sent it Home again to him from whom he had it. But they denying it stiffly, and high Words arising, _Anthony_ calling some Witnesses, Look you, quoth he, how dangerous a Thing it is to have to do with Men now-a-Days, without a Note under their Hands: I should have been in Danger of being indicted for Felony, if I had not had the Pawn-Broker's own Hand to shew. And with that he produces the Note of his Hand. They perceiv'd the Trick, and it made good Sport all the Country over, that the Pawn-Broker had lent Money upon his own Porridge-Pot. Men are commonly very well pleas'd with such Tricks, when they are put upon such as they have no good Opinion of, especially such as use to impose upon other Persons.

_Adol._ In Truth, by mentioning the Name of _Anthony_, you have laid open an Ocean of merry Stories; but I'll tell but one, and a short one too, that was told me very lately. A certain Company of jolly Fellows, who are for a short Life, and a merry one, as they call it, were making merry together; among the rest there was one _Anthony_, and another Person, a noted Fellow for an arch Trick, a second _Anthony_. And as 'tis the Custom of Philosophers, when they meet together to propound some Questions or other about the Things of Nature, so in this Company a Question was propos'd; Which was the most honourable Part of a Man? One said the Eyes, another said the Heart, another said the Brain, and others said other Parts; and every one alleg'd some Reason for his Assertion. _Anthony_ was bid to speak his Mind, and he gave his Opinion that the Mouth was the most honourable, and gave some Reason for't, I can't tell what. Upon that the other Person, that he might thwart _Anthony_, made Answer that that was the most honourable Part that we sit upon; and when every one cry'd out, that was absurd, he back'd it with this Reason, that he was commonly accounted the most honourable that was first seated, and that this Honour was commonly done to the Part that he spoke of. They applauded his Opinion, and laughed heartily at it. The Man was mightily pleas'd with his Wit, and _Anthony_ seem'd to have the worst on't. _Anthony_ turn'd the Matter off very well, saying that he had given the prime Honour to the Mouth for no other Reason, but because he knew that the other Man would name some other Part, if it were but out of Envy to thwart him: A few Days after, when they were both invited again to an Entertainment, _Anthony_ going in, finds his Antagonist, talking with some other Persons, while Supper was getting ready, and turning his Arse towards him, lets a great Fart full in his Face. He being in a violent Passion, says to him, Out, you saucy Fellow, where was you drag'd up? _At Hogs Norton_? Then says _Anthony_, What, are you angry? If I had saluted you with my Mouth, you would have answer'd me again; but now I salute you with the most honourable Part of the Body, in your own Opinion, you call me saucy Fellow. And so _Anthony_ regain'd the Reputation he had lost. We have every one told our Tale. Now, Mr. Judge, it is your Business to pass Sentence.

_Ge._ Well, I'll do that, but not before every Man has taken off his Glass, and I'll lead the Way. But _talk of the Devil and he'll appear_.

_Po._ _Levinus Panagathus_ brings no bad Luck along with him.

_Lev._ Well, pray what Diversion has there been among this merry Company?

_Po._ What should we do but tell merry Stories till you come?

_Lev._ Well then, I'm come to conclude the Meeting. I desire you all to come to Morrow to eat a Theological Dinner with me.

_Ge._ You tell us of a melancholy Entertainment indeed.

_Lev._ That will appear. If you don't confess that it has been more entertaining than your fabulous one, I'll be content to be amerc'd a Supper; there is nothing more diverting than to treat of Trifles in a serious Manner.

_The LYING-IN WOMAN._

The ARGUMENT.

_A Lying-in Woman had rather have a Boy than a Girl.
Custom is a grievous Tyrant. A Woman argues that she is
as good as her Husband. The Dignity of 'em both are
compared. The Tongue is a Woman's best Weapon. The Mother
herself ought to be the Nurse. She is not the Mother that
bears the Child, but she that nurses it. The very Beasts
themselves suckle their own Young. The Nurse's Milk
corrupts oftentimes both the Genius and natural
Constitution of the Infant. The Souls of some Persons
inhabit Bodies ill organized._ Cato _judges it the
principal Part of Felicity, to dwell happily. She is
scarce half a Mother that refuses to bring up what she
has brought forth. A Mother is so called from [Greek: mê
têrein]. And in short, besides the Knowledge of a great
many Things in Nature, here are many that occur in
Morality._

EUTRAPELUS, FABULLA.

_Eu._ Honest _Fabulla_, I am glad to see you; I wish you well.

_Fa._ I wish you well heartily, Eutrapelus. But what's the Matter more than ordinary, that you that come so seldom to see me, are come now? None of our Family has seen you this three Years.

_Eu._ I'll tell you, as I chanced to go by the Door, I saw the Knocker (called a Crow) tied up in a white Cloth, I wondered what was the Matter.

_Fa._ What! are you such a Stranger in this Country, as not to know that that's a Token of a lying-in Woman in that House?

_Eu._ Why, pray is it not a strange Sight to see a white Crow? But without jesting, I did know very well what was the Matter; but I could not dream, that you that are scarce sixteen, should learn so early the difficult Art of getting Children, which some can scarce attain before they are thirty.

_Fa._ As you are _Eutrapelus_ by Name, so you are by Nature.

_Eu._ And so are you too. For _Fabulla_ never wants a Fable. And while I was in a Quandary, _Polygamus_ came by just in the Nick of Time.

_Fa._ What he that lately buried his tenth Wife?

_Eu._ The very same, but I believe you don't know that he goes a courting as hotly as if he had lived all his Days a Batchelor. I ask'd him what was the Matter; he told me that in this House the Body of a Woman had been dissever'd. For what great Crime, says I? says he, If what is commonly reported be true, the Mistress of this House attempted to circumcise her Husband, and with that he went away laughing.

_Fa._ He's a mere Wag.

_Eu._ I presently ran in a-Doors to congratulate your safe Delivery.

_Fa._ Congratulate my safe Delivery if you will, _Eutrapelus_, you may congratulate my happy Delivery, when you shall see him that I have brought forth give a Proof of himself to be an honest Man.

_Eu._ Indeed, my _Fabulla_ you talk very piously and rationally.

_Fa._ Nay, I am no Body's _Fabulla_ but _Petronius's._

_Eu._ Indeed you bear Children for _Petronius_ alone, but you don't live for him alone, I believe. But however, I congratulate you upon this, that you have got a Boy.

_Fa._ But why do you think it better to have a Boy than a Girl?

_Eu._ Nay, but rather you _Petronius's Fabulla_ (for now I am afraid to call you mine) ought to tell me what Reason you Women have to wish for Boys rather than Girls?

_Fa._ I don't know what other People's Minds are; at this Time I am glad I have a Boy, because so it pleased God. If it had pleased him best I should have had a Girl, it would have pleased me best too.

_Eu._ Do you think God has nothing else to do but be a Midwife to Women in Labour?

_Fa._ Pray, _Eutrapelus_, what should he do else, but preserve by Propagation, what he has founded by Creation?

Eu, What should he do else good Dame? If he were not God, he'd never be able to do what he has to do. _Christiernus_ King of _Denmark_, a religious Favourer of the Gospel, is in Exile. _Francis_, King of _France_, is a Sojourner in _Spain._ I can't tell how well he may bear it, but I am sure he is a Man that deserves better Fortune. _Charles_ labours with might and main to inlarge the Territories of his Monarchy. And _Ferdinand_ is mightily taken up about his Affairs in _Germany._ And the Courtiers every where are almost Famished with Hunger after Money. The very Farmers raise dangerous Commotions, nor are deterred from their Attempts by so many Slaughters of Men, that have been made already. The People are for setting up an Anarchy, and the Church goes to Ruin with dangerous Factions. Christ's seamless Coat is rent asunder on all Sides. God's Vineyard is spoiled by more Boars than one. The Authority of the Clergy with their Tythes, the Dignity of Divines, the Majesty of Monks is in Danger: Confession nods, Vows stagger, the Pope's Constitutions go to decay, the Eucharist is call'd in Question, and Antichrist is expected every Day, and the whole World seems to be in Travail to bring forth I know not what Mischief. In the mean Time the _Turks_ over-run all where-e'er they come, and are ready to invade us and lay all waste, if they succeed in what they are about; and do you ask what God has else to do? I think he should rather see to secure his own Kingdom in Time.

_Fa._ Perhaps that which Men make the greatest Account of, seems to God of no Moment. But however, if you will, let us let God alone in this Discourse of ours. What is your Reason to think it is happier to bear a Boy than a Girl? It is the Part of a pious Person to think that best which God, who without Controversy is the best Judge, has given.

_Eu._ And if God should give you but a Cup made of Crystal, would you not give him Thanks for it?

_Fa._ Yes, I would.

_Eu._ But what if he should give you one of common Glass, would you give him the like Thanks? But I'm afraid instead of comforting you, by this Discourse, I should make you uneasy.

_Fa._ Nay, a _Fabulla_ can be in no Danger of being hurt by a Fable. I have lain in now almost a Month, and I am strong enough for a Match at Wrestling.

_Eu._ Why don't you get out of your Bed then?

_Fa._ The King has forbid me.

_Eu._ What King?

_Fa._ Nay a Tyrant rather.

_Eu._ What Tyrant prithee?

_Fa._ I'll tell you in one Syllable. Custom (_Mos_).

_Eu._ Alas! How many Things does that Tyrant exact beyond the Bounds of Equity? But let us go on to talk of our Crystal and our common Glass.

_Fa._ I believe you judge, that a Male is naturally more excellent and strong than a Female.

_Eu._ I believe they are.

_Fa._ That is Mens Opinion. But are Men any Thing longer-liv'd than Women? Are they free from Distempers?

_Eu._ No, but in the general they are stronger.

_Fa._ But then they themselves are excell'd by Camels in Strength.

_Eu._ But besides, the Male was created first.

_Fa._ So was _Adam_ before _Christ_. Artists use to be most exquisite in their later Performances.

_Eu._ But God put the Woman under Subjection to the Man.

_Fa._ It does not follow of Consequence, that he is the better because he commands, he subjects her as a Wife, and not purely as a Woman; and besides that he so puts the Wife under Subjection, that tho' they have each of them Power over the other, he will have the Woman to be obedient to the Man, not as to the more excellent, but to the more fierce Person. Tell me, _Eutrapelus_, which is the weaker Person, he that yields to another, or he that is yielded to?

_Eu._ I'll grant you that, if you will explain to me, what Paul meant when he wrote to the _Corinthians_, that _Christ was the Head of the Man, and Man the Head of the Woman;_ and again, when he said, that _a Man was the Image and Glory of God, and a Woman the Glory of the Man._

_Fa._ Well! I'll resolve you that, if you answer me this Question, Whether or no, it is given to Men alone, to be the Members of Christ?

_Eu._ God forbid, that is given to all Men and Women too by Faith.

_Fa._ How comes it about then, that when there is but one Head, it should not be common to all the Members? And besides that, since God made Man in his own Image, whether did he express this Image in the Shape of his Body, or the Endowments of his Mind?

_Eu._ In the Endowments of his Mind.

_Fa._ Well, and I pray what have Men in these more excellent than we have? In both Sexes, there are many Drunkennesses, Brawls, Fightings, Murders, Wars, Rapines, and Adulteries.

_Eu._ But we Men alone fight for our Country.

_Fa._ And you Men often desert from your Colours, and run away like Cowards; and it is not always for the Sake of your Country, that you leave your Wives and Children, but for the Sake of a little nasty Pay; and, worse than Fencers at the Bear-Garden, you deliver up your Bodies to a slavish Necessity of being killed, or yourselves killing others. And now after all your Boasting of your warlike Prowess, there is none of you all, but if you had once experienced what it is to bring a Child into the World, would rather be placed ten Times in the Front of a Battle, than undergo once what we must so often. An Army does not always fight, and when it does, the whole Army is not always engaged. Such as you are set in the main Body, others are kept for Bodies of Reserve, and some are safely posted in the Rear; and lastly, many save themselves by surrendring, and some by running away. We are obliged to encounter Death, Hand to Hand.

_Eu._ I have heard these Stories before now; but the Question is, Whether they are true or not?

_Fa._ Too true.

_Eu._ Well then, _Fabulla_, would you have me persuade your Husband never to touch you more? For if so, you'll be secure from that Danger.

_Fa._ In Truth, there is nothing in the World I am more desirious of, if you were able to effect it.

_Eu._ If I do persuade him to it, what shall I have for my Pains?

_Fa._ I'll present you with half a Score dry'd Neats-Tongues.

_Eu._ I had rather have them than the Tongues of ten Nightingales. Well, I don't dislike the Condition, but we won't make the Bargain obligatory, before we have agreed on the Articles.

_Fa._ And if you please, you may add any other Article.

_Eu._ That shall be according as you are in the Mind after your Month is up.

_Fa._ But why not according as I am in the Mind now?

_Eu._ Why, I'll tell you, because I am afraid you will not be in the same Mind then; and so you would have double Wages to pay, and I double Work to do, of persuading and dissuading him.

_Fa._ Well, let it be as you will then. But come on, shew me why the Man is better than the Woman.

_Eu._ I perceive you have a Mind to engage with me in Discourse, but I think it more adviseable to yield to you at this Time. At another Time I'll attack you when I have furnished myself with Arguments; but not without a Second neither. For where the Tongue is the Weapon that decides the Quarrel; seven Men are scarce able to Deal with one Woman.

_Fa._ Indeed the Tongue is a Woman's Weapon; but you Men are not without it neither.

_Eu._ Perhaps so, but where is your little Boy?

_Fa._ In the next Room.

_Eu._ What is he doing there, cooking the Pot?

_Fa._ You Trifler, he's with his Nurse.

_Eu._ What Nurse do you talk of? Has he any Nurse but his Mother?

_Fa._ Why not? It is the Fashion.

_Eu._ You quote the worst Author in the World, _Fabulla_, the Fashion; 'tis the Fashion to do amiss, to game, to whore, to cheat, to be drunk, and to play the Rake.

_Fa._ My Friends would have it so; they were of Opinion I ought to favour myself, being young.

_Eu._ But if Nature gives Strength to conceive, it doubtless gives Strength to give Suck too.

_Fa._ That may be.

_Eu._ Prithee tell me, don't you think Mother is a very pretty Name?

_Fa._ Yes, I do.

_Eu._ And if such a Thing were possible, would you endure it, that another Woman should be call'd the Mother of your Child?

_Fa._ By no Means.

_Eu._ Why then do you voluntarily make another Woman more than half the Mother of what you have brought into the World?

_Fa._ O fy! _Eutrapelus_, I don't divide my Son in two, I am intirely his Mother, and no Body in the World else.

_Eu._ Nay, _Fabulla_, in this Case Nature herself blames you to your Face. Why is the Earth call'd the Mother of all Things? Is it because she produces only? Nay, much rather, because she nourishes those Things she produces: that which is produced by Water, is fed by Water. There is not a living Creature or a Plant that grows on the Face of the Earth, that the Earth does not feed with its own Moisture. Nor is there any living Creature that does not feed its own Offspring. Owls, Lions, and Vipers, feed their own Young, and does Womankind make her Offspring Offcasts? Pray, what can be more cruel than they are, that turn their Offspring out of Doors for Laziness, not to supply them with Food?

_Fa._ That you talk of is abominable.

_Eu._ But Womankind don't abominate it. Is it not a Sort of turning out of Doors, to commit a tender little Infant, yet reaking of the Mother, breathing the very Air of the Mother, imploring the Mother's Aid and Help with its Voice, which they say will affect even a brute Creature, to a Woman perhaps that is neither wholsome in Body, nor honest, who has more Regard to a little Wages, than to your Child?

_Fa._ But they have made Choice of a wholsome, sound Woman.

_Eu._ Of this the Doctors are better Judges than yourself. But put the Case, she is as healthful as yourself, and more too; do you think there is no Difference between your little tender Infant's sucking its natural and familiar Milk, and being cherish'd with Warmth it has been accustomed to, and its being forc'd to accustom itself to those of a Stranger? Wheat being sown in a strange Soil, degenerates into Oats or small Wheat. A Vine being transplanted into another Hill, changes its Nature. A Plant when it is pluck'd from its Parent Earth, withers, and as it were dies away, and does in a Manner the same when it is transplanted from its Native Earth.

_Fa._ Nay, but they say, Plants that have been transplanted and grafted, lose their wild Nature, and produce better Fruit.

_Eu._ But not as soon as ever they peep out of the Ground, good Madam. There will come a Time, by the Grace of God, when you will send away your young Son from you out of Doors, to be accomplish'd with Learning and undergo harsh Discipline, and which indeed is rather the Province of the Father than of the Mother. But now its tender Age calls for Indulgence. And besides, whereas the Food, according as it is, contributes much to the Health and Strength of the Body, so more especially it is essential to take Care, with what Milk that little, tender, soft Body be season'd. For _Horace's_ Saying takes Place here. _Quo semel est imbuta recens servabit odorem Testa diu. What is bred in the Bone, will never out of the Flesh._

_Fa._ I don't so much concern myself as to his Body, so his Mind be but as I would have it.

_Eu._ That indeed is piously spoken, but not philosophically.

_Fa._ Why not?

_Eu._ Why do you when you shred Herbs, complain your Knife is blunt, and order it to be whetted? Why do you reject a blunt pointed Needle, when that does not deprive you of your Art?

_Fa._ Art is not wanting, but an unfit Instrument hinders the exerting it.

_Eu._ Why do they that have much Occasion to use their Eyes, avoid Darnel and Onions?

_Fa._ Because they hurt the Sight.

_Eu._ Is it not the Mind that sees?

_Fa._ It is, for those that are dead see nothing. But what can a Carpenter do with an Ax whose Edge is spoiled?

_Eu._ Then you do acknowledge the Body is the Organ of the Mind?

_Fa._ That's plain.

_Eu._ And you grant that in a vitiated Body the Mind either cannot act at all, or if it does, it is with Inconvenience?

_Fa._ Very likely.

_Eu._ Well, I find I have an intelligent Person to deal with; suppose the Soul of a Man was to pass into the Body of a Cock, would it make the same Sound it does now?

_Fa._ No to be sure.

_Eu._ What would hinder?

_Fa._ Because it would want Lips, Teeth, and a Tongue, like to that of a Man. It has neither the Epiglottis, nor the three Cartilages, that are moved by three Muscles, to which Nerves are joined that come from the Brain; nor has it Jaws and Teeth like a Man's.

_Eu._ What if it should go into the Body of a Swine?

_Fa._ Then it would grunt like a Swine.

_Eu._ What if it should pass into the Body of a Camel?

_Fa._ It would make a Noise like a Camel.

_Eu._ What if it should pass into the Body of an Ass, as it happened to _Apuleius_?

_Fa._ Then I think it would bray as an Ass does.

_Eu._ Indeed he is a Proof of this, who when he had a Mind to call after _Caesar_, having contracted his Lips as much as he possibly could, scarce pronounced O, but could by no Means pronounce _Caesar._ The same Person, when having heard a Story, and that he might not forget it, would have written it, reprehended himself for his foolish Thought, when he beheld his solid Hoofs.

_Fa._ And he had Cause enough.

_Eu._ Then it follows that the Soul does not see well thro' purblind Eyes. The Ears hear not clearly when stopped with Filth. The Brain smells not so well when oppressed with Phlegm. And a Member feels not so much when it is benumbed. The Tongue tastes less, when vitiated with ill Humours.

_Fa._ These Things can't be denied.

_Eu._ And for no other Cause, but because the Organ is vitiated.

_Fa._ I believe the same.

_Eu._ Nor will you deny, I suppose, that sometimes it is vitiated by Food and Drink.

_Fa._ I'll grant that too, but what signifies that to the Goodness of the Mind?

_Eu._ As much as Darnel does to a clear Eye-Sight.

_Fa._ Because it vitiates the Organ.

_Eu._ Well answer'd. But solve me this Difficulty: Why is it that one understands quicker than another, and has a better Memory; why is one more prone to Anger than another; or is more moderate in his Resentment?

_Fa._ It proceeds from the Disposition of the Mind.

_Eu._ That won't do. Whence comes it that one who was formerly of a very ready Wit, and a retentive Memory, becomes afterwards stupid and forgetful, either by a Blow or a Fall, by Sickness or old Age?

_Fa._ Now you seem to play the Sophister with me.

_Eu._ Then do you play the Sophistress with me.

_Fa._ I suppose you would infer, that as the Mind sees and hears by the Eyes and Ears, so by some Organs it also understands, remembers, loves, hates, is provoked and appeas'd?

_Eu._ Right.

_Fa._ But pray what are those Organs, and where are they situated?

_Eu._ As to the Eyes, you see where they are.

_Fa._ I know well enough where the Ears, and the Nose, and the Palate are; and that the Body is all over sensible of the Touch, unless when some Member is seized with a Numbness.

_Eu._ When a Foot is cut off, yet the Mind understands.

_Fa._ It does so, and when a Hand is cut off too.

_Eu._ A Person that receives a violent Blow on the Temples, or hinder-Part of his Head, falls down like one that is dead, and is unsensible.

_Fa._ I have sometimes seen that myself.

_Eu._ Hence it is to be collected, that the Organs of the Will, Understanding, and Memory, are placed within the Skull, being not so crass as the Eyes and Ears, and yet are material, in as much as the most subtile Spirits that we have in the Body are corporeal.

_Fa._ And can they be vitiated with Meat and Drink too?

_Eu._ Yes.

_Fa._ The Brain is a great Way off from the Stomach.

_Eu._ And so is the Funnel of a Chimney from the Fire-Hearth, yet if you sit upon it you'll feel the Smoke.

_Fa._ I shan't try that Experiment.

_Eu._ Well, if you won't believe me, ask the Storks. And so it is of Moment what Spirits, and what Vapours ascend from the Stomach to the Brain, and the Organs of the Mind. For if these are crude or cold they stay in the Stomach.

_Fa._ Pshaw! You're describing to me an Alembick, in which we distil Simple-Waters.

_Eu._ You don't guess much amiss. For the Liver, to which the Gall adheres, is the Fire-Place; the Stomach, the Pan; the Scull, the Top of the Still; and if you please, you may call the Nose the Pipe of it. And from this Flux or Reflux of Humours, almost all Manner of Diseases proceed, according as a different Humour falls down after a different Manner, sometimes into the Eyes, sometimes into the Stomach, sometimes into the Shoulders, and sometimes into the Neck, and elsewhere. And that you may understand me the better, why have those that guzzle a great Deal of Wine bad Memories? Why are those that feed upon light Food, not of so heavy a Disposition? Why does Coriander help the Memory? Why does Hellebore purge the Memory? Why does a great Expletion cause an Epilepsy, which at once brings a Stupor upon all the Senses, as in a profound Sleep? In the last Place, as violent Thirst or Want weaken the Strength of Wit or Memory in Boys, so Food eaten immoderately makes Boys dull-headed, if we believe _Aristotle_; in that the Fire of the Mind is extinguish'd by the heaping on too much Matter.

_Fa._ Why then, is the Mind corporeal, so as to be affected with corporeal Things?

_Eu._ Indeed the Nature itself of the rational Soul is not corrupted; but the Power and Action of it are impeded by the Organs being vitiated, as the Art of an Artist will stand him in no Stead, if he has not Instruments.

_Fa._ Of what Bulk, and in what Form is the Mind?

_Eu._ You ask a ridiculous Question, what Bulk and Form the Mind is of, when you have allow'd it to be incorporeal.

_Fa._ I mean the Body that is felt.

_Eu._ Nay, those Bodies that are not to be felt are the most perfect Bodies, as God and the Angels.

_Fa._ I have heard that God and Angels are Spirits, but we feel the Spirit.

_Eu._ The Holy Scriptures condescend to those low Expressions, because of the Dullness of Men, to signify a Mind pure from all Commerce of sensible Things.

_Fa._ Then what is the Difference between an Angel and a Mind?

_Eu._ The same that is between a Snail and a Cockle, or, if you like the Comparison better, a Tortoise.

_Fa._ Then the Body is rather the Habitation of the Mind than the Instrument of it.

_Eu._ There is no Absurdity in calling an adjunct Instrument an Habitation. Philosophers are divided in their Opinions about this. Some call the Body the Garment of the Soul, some the House, some the Instrument, and some the Harmony; call it by which of these you will, it will follow that the Actions of the Mind are impeded by the Affections of the Body. In the first Place, if the Body is to the Mind that which a Garment is to the Body, the Garment of _Hercules_ informs us how much a Garment contributes to the Health of the Body, not to take any Notice of Colours of Hairs or of Skins. But as to that Question, whether one and the same Soul is capable of wearing out many Bodies, it shall be left to _Pythagoras_.

_Fa._ If, according to _Pythagoras_, we could make Use of Change of Bodies, as we do of Apparel, it would be convenient to take a fat Body, and of a thick Texture, in Winter Time, and a thinner and lighter Body in Summer Time.

_Eu._ But I am of the Opinion, that if we wore out our Body at last as we do our Cloaths; it would not be convenient; for so having worn out many Bodies, the Soul itself would grow old and die.

_Fa._ It would not truly.