Chapter V: Part 5

_Ga._ But above all, I take Care of doing any Thing that I can't safely trust a Priest with.

_Er._ That's the best Thing in the World, if you can but do so.

_Ga._ Indeed it is hard to us of ourselves, but by the Help of Christ it is easy; the greatest Matter is, that there be a Will to it. I often renew my Resolution, especially upon Sundays: And besides that, I endeavour as much as I can to keep out of evil Company, and associate myself with good Company, by whose Conversation I may be better'd.

_Er._ Indeed you manage yourself rightly: For _evil Conversations corrupt good Manners_.

_Ga._ I shun Idleness as the Plague.

_Er._ You are very right, for Idleness is the Root of all Evil; but as the World goes now, he must live by himself that would keep out of bad Company.

_Ga._ What you say is very true, for as the _Greek_ wise Men said the bad are the greatest Number. But I chuse the best out of a few, and sometimes a good Companion makes his Companion better. I avoid those Diversions that incite to Naughtiness, and use those that are innocent. I behave myself courteous to all; but familiarly with none but those that are good. If I happen at any Time to fall into bad Company, I either correct them by a soft Admonition, or wink at and bear with them, if I can do them no good; but I be sure to get out of their Company as soon as I can.

_Er._ Had you never an itching Mind to become a Monk?

_Ga._ Never; but I have been often solicited to it by some, that call you into a Monastery, as into a Port from a Shipwreck.

_Er._ Say you so? Were they in Hopes of a Prey?

_Ga._ They set upon both me and my Parents with a great many crafty Persuasions; but I have taken a Resolution not to give my Mind either to Matrimony or Priesthood, nor to be a Monk, nor to any Kind of Life out of which I can't extricate myself, before I know myself very well.

_Er._ When will that be?

_Ga._ Perhaps never. But before the 28th Year of ones Age, nothing should be resolved on.

_Er._ Why so?

_Ga._ Because I hear every where, so many Priests, Monks and married Men lamenting that they hurried themselves rashly into Servitude.

_Er._ You are very cautious not to be catch'd.

_Ga._ In the mean Time I take a special Care of three Things.

_Er._ What are they?

_Ga._ First of all to make a good Progress in Morality, and if I can't do that, I am resolv'd to maintain an unspotted Innocence and good Name; and last of all I furnish myself with Languages and Sciences that will be of Use in any Kind of Life.

_Er._ But do you neglect the Poets?

_Ga._ Not wholly, but I read generally the chastest of them, and if I meet with any Thing that is not modest, I pass that by, as _Ulysses_ passed by the _Sirens_, stopping his Ears.

_Er._ To what Kind of Study do you chiefly addict your self? To Physic, the Common or Civil Law, or to Divinity? For Languages, the Sciences and Philosophy are all conducive to any Profession whatsoever.

_Ga._ I have not yet thoroughly betaken myself to any one particularly, but I take a Taste of all, that I be not wholly ignorant of any; and the rather, that having tasted of all I may the better chuse that I am fittest for. Medicine is a certain Portion in whatsoever Land a Man is; the Law is the Way to Preferment: But I like Divinity the best, saving that the Manners of some of the Professors of it, and the bitter Contentions that are among them, displease me.

_Er._ He won't be very apt to fall that goes so warily along. Many in these Days are frighted from Divinity, because they are afraid they should not be found in the Catholick Faith, because they see no Principle of Religion, but what is called in Question.

_Ga._ I believe firmly what I read in the holy Scriptures, and the Creed, called the Apostles, and I don't trouble my Head any farther: I leave the rest to be disputed and defined by the Clergy, if they please; and if any Thing is in common Use with Christians that is not repugnant to the holy Scriptures, I observe it for this Reason, that I may not offend other People.

_Er._ What _Thales_ taught you that Philosophy?

_Ga._ When I was a Boy and very young, I happen'd to live in the House with that honestest of Men, _John Colet_, do you know him?

_Er._ Know him, ay, as well as I do you.

_Ga._ He instructed me when I was young in these Precepts.

_Er._ You won't envy me, I hope, if I endeavour to imitate you?

_Ga._ Nay, by that Means you will be much dearer to me. For you know, Familiarity and good Will, are closer ty'd by Similitude of Manners.

_Er._ True, but not among Candidates for the same Office, when they are both sick of the same Disease.

_Ga._ No, nor between two Sweet-hearts of the same Mistress, when they are both sick of the same Love.

_Er._ But without jesting, I'll try to imitate that Course of Life.

_Ga._ I wish you as good Success as may be.

_Er._ It may be I shall overtake thee.

_Ga._ I wish you might get before me; but in the mean Time I won't stay for you; but I will every Day endeavour to out-go myself, and do you endeavour to out-go me if you can.

_The ART OF HUNTING._

The ARGUMENT.

_This Colloquy presents you with the Art of Hunting;
Fishing, of bringing Earth-Worms out of the Ground, of
sticking Frogs._

PAUL, THOMAS, VINCENT, LAWRENCE, BARTHOLUS.

_Pa. Every one to his Mind._ I love Hunting.

_Th._ And so do I too, but where are the Dogs? The hunting Poles? And the hunting Nets?

_Pa._ Farewell Boars, Bears, Bucks, and Foxes, we'll lay Snares for Rabbets.

_Vi._ But I'll set Gins for Locusts and Crickets.

_La._ But I'll catch Frogs.

_Ba._ I'll hunt Butterflies.

_La._ 'Tis difficult to follow flying Creatures.

_Ba._ It is difficult, but 'tis fine Sport; unless you think it finer Sport to hunt after Earth-Worms, Snails or Cockles, because they have no Wings.

_La._ Indeed I had rather go a Fishing; I have a neat Hook.

_Ba._ But where will you get Baits?

_La._ There are Earth-Worms enough every where to be had.

_Ba._ So there is, if they would but creep out of the Ground to you.

_La._ But I'll make a great many thousand jump out presently.

_Ba._ How? By Witch-Craft?

_La._ You shall see the Art. Fill this Bucket with Water, break these green Peels of Walnuts to Pieces and put into it: Wet the Ground with the Water. Now mind a little, do you see them coming out?

_Ba._ I see a Miracle. I believe the armed Men started out of the Earth after this Manner from the Serpents Teeth that were sown: But a great many Fish are of too fine and delicate a Palate to be catch'd by such a vulgar Bait.

_La._ I know a certain Sort of an Insect that I us'd to catch such with.

_Ba._ See if you can impose upon the Fishes so, I'll make work with the Frogs.

_La._ How, with a Net?

_Ba._ No, with a Bow.

_La._ That's a new Way of Fishing!

_Ba._ But 'tis a pleasant one; you'll say so, when you see it.

_Vi._ What if we two should play at holding up our Fingers?

_Ba._ That's an idle, clownish Play indeed, fitter for them that are sitting in a Chimney Corner, than those that are ranging in the Field.

_Vi._ What if we should play at Cob-Nut?

_Pa._ Let us let Nuts alone for little Chits, we are great Boys.

_Vi._ And yet we are but Boys for all that.

_Pa._ But they that are fit to play at Cob-Nut, are fit to ride upon a Hobby-Horse.

_Vi._ Well then, do you say what we shall play at; and I'll play at what you will.

_Pa._ And I'll be conformable.

_SCHOLASTIC STUDIES._

The ARGUMENT.

_This Colloquy treats of scholastic Studies, and School
Plays, I. The Boys going into the School. The striking of
a Clock. A whipping Master. Of saying a Lesson. Fear
hurts the Memory. 2. Of Writing, the Paper sinks. Of
making a Pen. Of a hard Nip. A soft Nip. Of writing
quick, well._

SYLVIUS, JOHN.

_Sy._ What makes you run so, _John?_

_Jo._ What makes a Hare run before the Dogs, as they use to say?

_Sy._ What Proverb is this?

_Jo._ Because unless I am there in Time, before the Bill is called over, I am sure to be whipp'd.

_Sy._ You need not be afraid of that, it is but a little past five: Look upon the Clock, the Hand is not come to the half Hour Point yet.

_Jo._ Ay, but I can scarce trust to Clocks, they go wrong sometimes.

_Sy._ But trust me then, I heard the Clock strike.

_Jo._ What did that strike?

_Sy._ Five.

_Jo._ But there is something else that I am more afraid of than that, I must say by Heart a good long Lesson for Yesterday, and I am afraid I can't say it.

_Sy._ I am in the same Case with you; for I myself have hardly got mine as it should be.

_Jo._ And you know the Master's Severity. Every Fault is a Capital one with him: He has no more Mercy of our Breeches, than if they were made of a Bull's Hide.

_Sy._ But he won't be in the School.

_Jo._ Who has he appointed in his Place?

_Sy. Cornelius._

_Jo._ That squint-ey'd Fellow! Wo to our Back-Sides, he's a greater Whip-Master than _Busby_ himself.

_Sy._ You say very true, and for that Reason I have often wish'd he had a Palsy in his Arm.

_Jo._ It is not pious to wish ill to ones Master: it is our Business rather to take Care not to fall under the Tyrant's Hands.

_Sy._ Let us say one to another, one repeating and the other looking in the Book.

_Jo._ That's well thought on.

_Sy._ Come, be of good Heart; for Fear spoils the Memory.

_Jo._ I could easily lay aside Fear, if I were out of Danger; but who can be at Ease in his Mind, that is in so much Danger.

_Sy._ I confess so; but we are not in Danger of our Heads, but of our Tails.

* * * * *

2. _Of Writing._

CORNELIUS, ANDREW.

_Co._ You write finely, but your Paper sinks. Your Paper is damp, and the Ink sinks through it.

_An._ Pray make me a Pen of this.

_Co._ I have not a Pen-knife.

_An._ Here is one for you.

_Co._ Out on't, how blunt it is!

_An._ Take the Hoan.

_Co._ Do you love to write with a hard-nip'd Pen, or a soft?

_An._ Make it fit for your own Hand.

_Co._ I use to write with a soft Nip.

_An._ Pray write me out the Alphabet.

_Co._ Greek or Latin?

_An._ Write me the Latin first; I'll try to imitate it.

_Co._ Give me some Paper then.

_An._ Take some.

_Co._ But my Ink is too thin, by often pouring in of Water.

_An._ But my Cotton is quite dry.

_Co._ Squeeze it, or else piss in it.

_An._ I had rather get some Body to give me some.

_Co._ It is better to have of one's own, than to borrow.

_An._ What's a Scholar without Pen and Ink?

_Co._ The same that a Soldier is without Shield or Sword.

_An._ I wish my Fingers were so nimble, I can't write as fast as another speaks.

_Co._ Let it be your first chief Care to write well, and your next to write quick: No more Haste than good Speed.

_An._ Very well; say to the Master when he dictates, no more Haste than good Speed.

* * * * *

_A Form of giving Thanks.

PETER, CHRISTIAN._

_Pe._ You have oblig'd me, in that you have written to me sometimes. I thank you for writing to me often. I love you, that you have not thought much to send me now and then a Letter. I give you Thanks that you have visited me with frequent Letters. I thank you for loading of me with Packets of Letters. I thank you heartily that you have now and then provoked me with Letters. You have oblig'd me very much that you have honour'd me with your Letters. I am much beholden to you for your most obliging Letters to me. I take it as a great Favour, that you have not thought much to write to me.

_The Answer._

_Ch._ Indeed I ought to beg Pardon for my Presumption, who dar'd presume to trouble a Man of so much Business, and so much Learning with my unlearned Letters. I acknowledge your usual Humanity, who have taken my Boldness in good Part. I was afraid my Letters had given you some Offence, that you sent me no Answer. There is no Reason that you should thank me, it is more than enough for me, if you have taken my Industry in good Part.

* * * * *

_A Form of asking after News._

_Pe._ Is there no News come from our Country? Have you had any News from our Countrymen? What News? Do you bring any News? Is there any News come to Town? Is there any News abroad from our Country?

_The Answer._

_Ch._ There is much News; but nothing of Truth. News enough indeed; but nothing certain. A great deal of News; but nothing to be depended upon. Not a little News; but not much Truth. There is no News come. I have had no News at all. Something of News; but nothing certain. There are a great many Reports come to Town; but they are all doubtful. There is a great deal of Talk; but nothing true, nothing certain. If Lies please, I have brought you a whole Cart-Load of them. I bring you whole Bushels of Tales. I bring you as many Lies as a good Ship will carry.

_Pe._ Then unlade yourself as fast as you can, for fear you should sink, being so over-freighted.

_Ch._ I have nothing but what's the Chat of Barbers Shops, Coaches and Boats.

_Han't you received any Letters. The Form_.

_Pe._ Have you had no Letters? Have you had any Letters out of your own Country? Have no Letters been brought to you? Have you receiv'd any Letters? Have you had any Letters? Have you receiv'd any Letters from your Friends? Are there no Letters come from _France_?

_The Answer._

_Ch._ I have received no Letters. I han't had so much as a Letter. I han't had the least Bit of a Letter. No Body has sent me any Letter. There is not the least Word come from any Body. I have received no more Letters for this long Time, than what you see in my Eye. Indeed I had rather have Money than Letters. I had rather receive Money than Letters. I don't matter Letters, so the Money does but come. I had rather be paid, than be written to.

* * * * *

_I believe so. The Form._

_Pe._ I easily believe you. That is not hard to be believ'd. It is a very easy Thing to believe that. Who would not believe you in that? He will be very incredulous, that won't believe you in that Matter. In Truth I do believe you. You will easily make me believe that. I can believe you without swearing. What you say is very likely. But for all that, Letters bring some Comfort. I had rather have either of them, than neither.

* * * * *

_Of Profit. A Form._

_Ch._ What signifies Letters without Money? What signifies empty Letters? What do empty Letters avail? What good do they do, what do they profit, advantage? To whom are Letters grateful or acceptable without Money? What Advantage do empty Letters bring? What are idle Letters good for? What do they do? What use are they of? What are they good for? What do they bring with them of Moment? What Use are empty Letters of?

_The Answer._

_Pe._ They are useful, fit, proper, to wipe your Breech with. They are good to wipe your Backside with. If you don't know the Use of them, they are good to wipe your Arse with. To wipe your Breech with. To wipe your Backside with. They are good to cleanse that Part of the Body that often fouls itself. They are good to wrap Mackrel in. Good to make up Grocery Ware in.

* * * * *

_Of wishing well._

1. _To a Man whose Wife is with Child._

_Pe._ What? are our little Friends well? How does your Wife do?

_Ch._ Very well, I left her with her Mother, and with Child.

_Pe._ I wish it may be well for you, and her too: To you, because you're shortly to be a Father, and she a Mother. God be with you. I pray and desire that it may be prosperous and happy to you both. I pray, I beg of God that she, having a safe Delivery, may bear a Child worthy of you both; and may make you a Father of a fine Child. I commend you that you have shewed yourself to be a Man. I am glad you have prov'd yourself to be a Man. You have shew'd yourself to be a Gallus, but not _Cybele_'s. Now you may go, I believe you are a Man.

_Ch._ You joke upon me, as you are used to do. Well, go on, you may say what you please to me.

* * * * *

2. _To one coming Home into his own Country._

_Ch._ I hear, you have lately been in your own Country.

_Pe._ I have so, I had been out of it a pretty While. I could not bear to be out of it long. I could not bear to be out of my Parents Sight any longer. I thought it long till I enjoy'd my Friends Company.

_Ch._ You have acted very piously. You are very good Humour'd, to think of those Matters. We have all a strange Affection for the Country that hath bred us, and brought us forth.

_As_ Ovid _says_:

_Nescio quâ natale solum dulcedine cunctos
Ducit, et immemores non sinit esse sui._

Pray tell me how did you find all Things there.

* * * * *

_All Things new. The Form._

_Pe._ Nothing but what was new. All Things changed, all Things become new. See how soon Time changes all human Affairs. Methought I came into another World. I had scarce been absent ten Years, and yet I admired at every Thing, as much as _Epimenides_ the Prince of Sleepers, when he first wak'd out of his Sleep.

_Ch._ What Story is that? What Fable is that?

_Pe._ I'll tell you if you are at Leisure.

_Ch._ There is nothing more pleasant.

_Pe._ Then order me a Chair and a Cushion.

_Ch._ That's very well thought on, for you will tell Lyes the better, sitting at Ease.

_Pe._ Historians tell us a Story, of one _Epimenides_ a Man of _Crete_, who taking a Walk alone by himself without the City, being caught in a hasty Shower of Rain, went for Shelter into a Cave, and there fell asleep, and slept on for seven and forty Years together.

_I don't believe it. The Form._

_Ch._ What a Story you tell? 'Tis incredible. What you say is not very likely. You tell me a Fiction. I don't think 'tis true. You tell me a monstrous Story. Are you not asham'd to be guilty of so wicked a Lye? This is a Fable fit to be put among _Lucian's_ Legends.

_Pe._ Nay, I tell you what is related by Authors of Credit, unless you think _Aulus Gellius_ is not an Author of approv'd Credit.

_Ch._ Nay, whatsoever he has written are Oracles to me.

_Pe._ Do you think that a Divine dream'd so many Years? For it is storied that he was a Divine.

_Ch._ I am with Child to hear.

_The Answer._

_Pe._ What is it more than what _Scotus_ and the School-men did afterwards? But _Epimenides_, he came off pretty well, he came to himself again at last; but a great many Divines never wake out of their Dreams.

_Ch._ Well go on, you do like a Poet; But go on with your Lye.

_Pe._ _Epimenides_ waking out of his Sleep, goes out of his Cave, and looks about him, and sees all Things chang'd, the Woods, the Banks, the Rivers, the Trees, the Fields; and, in short, there was nothing but was new: He goes to the City, and enquires; he stays there a little While, but knows no Body, nor did any Body know him: the Men were dress'd after another Fashion, than what they were before; they had not the same Countenances; their Speech was alter'd, and their Manners quite different: Nor do I wonder it was so with _Epimenides_, after so many Years, when it was almost so with me, when I had been absent but a few Years.

_Ch._ But how do your Father and Mother do? Are they living?

_Pe._ They are both alive and well; but pretty much worn out with old Age, Diseases, and lastly, with the Calamities of War.

_Ch._ This is the Comedy of human Life. This is the inevitable Law of Destiny.

* * * * *

_Words, Names of Affinity._

_Pe._ Will you sup at Home to Day?

_Ch._ I am to sup abroad: I must go out to Supper.

_Pe._ With whom?

_Ch._ With my Father in Law; with my Son in Law; at my Daughter's in Law; with my Kinsman. They are call'd, _Affines_, Kinsmen, who are ally'd not by Blood, but Marriage.

_Pe._ What are the usual Names of Affinity?

_Ch._ A Husband and Wife are noted Names. _Socer_, Is my Wife's Father. _Gener_, My Daughter's Husband. _Socrus_, My Wife's Mother. _Nurus_, My Son's Wife. _Levir_, A Husband's Brother. _Levir_ is call'd by the Wife, as _Helen_ calls _Hector_, _Levir_, because she was married to _Paris_. _Fratria_, My Brother's Wife. _Glos_, A Husband's Sister. _Vitricus_, My Mother's Husband. _Noverca_, My Father's Wife. _Privignus_, The Son of my Wife or Husband. _Privigna_, The Daughter of either of them. _Rivalis_, He that loves the same Woman another does. _Pellex_, She that loves the same Man another does; as _Thraso_ is the Rival of _Phroedria_, and _Europa_ the _Pellex_ of _Juno_.

* * * * *

_Of inviting to a Feast._

_Dine with me to Morrow._

_Pe._ I give you Thanks, I commend you, I invite you to Supper against to Morrow, I entreat your Company at Supper to Morrow. I desire you'd come to Dinner with me to Morrow. I would have your Company at Dinner to Morrow.

_I fear I can't come._

_Ch._ I fear I can't. I am afraid I can't. I will come if I can; but I am afraid I can't.

_Why?_

_Pe._ Why can't you? How so? Why so? Wherefore? For what Reason? For what Cause? What hinders you that you can't.

_I must stay at Home._

_Ch._ Indeed I must be at Home at that Time. I must needs be at Home at Night. I must not be abroad at that Time. I shall not have an Opportunity to go out any where to Morrow. I must not be absent at Dinner. I expect some Guests myself upon that Day. Some Friends have made an Appointment to sup at our House that Night. I have some Guests to entertain that Night, or else I would come with all my Heart. Unless it were so, I would not be unwilling to come. If it were not so, I should not want much entreating. I would make no Excuse if I could come. If I could come, I would not be ask'd twice. If I could by any Means come, I would come with a very little, or without any Invitation at all. If I could, I would obey your Command very readily. It is in vain to ask one that is not at his own Disposal: And there would be no need to ask me if I could come: But at present, though I had never so much Mind, I can't; and it would be altogether unnecessary to ask one that is willing.

_Pe._ Then pray let me have your Company the next Day after: However, I must needs have your Company at Supper the next Day after to Morrow. You must not deny me your Company four Days hence. You must make no Excuse as to coming next Thursday.

_I can't promise._

_Ch._ I can't promise. I cannot positively promise you. I can't certainly promise you. I will come when it shall be most convenient for us both.

_You ought to set the Day._

_Pe._ I would have you appoint a Day when you will come to sup with me. You must assign a Day. You must set the Day. I desire a certain Day may be prefix'd, prescrib'd, appointed, set; but set a certain Day. I would have you tell me the Day.

_I would not have you know before Hand._

_Ch._ Indeed I don't use to set a Day for my Friends. I am used to set a Day for those I'm at Law with. I would not have you know before Hand. I'll take you at unawares. I'll come unexpectedly. I will catch you when you don't think on me. I shall take you when you don't think on me. I'll come unlooked for. I'll come upon you before you are aware. I'll come an uninvited and unexpected Guest.

_I would know before Hand._

_Pe._ I would know two Days before Hand. Give me Notice two Days before you come. Make me acquainted two Days before.

_Ch._ If you will have me, I'll make a _Sybaritical_ Appointment, that you may have Time enough to provide afore Hand.

_Pe._ What Appointment is that?

_Ch._ The _Sybarites_ invited their Guests against the next Year, that they might both have Time to be prepar'd.

_Pe._ Away with the _Sybarites_, and their troublesome Entertainments: I invite an old Chrony, and not a Courtier.

_You desire to your own Detriment._

_Ch._ Indeed 'tis to your Detriment. Indeed 'tis to your own Harm. To your own Loss. You wish for it. You pray for that to your own Ill-convenience.

_Pe._ Why so? Wherefore.

_Ch._ I'll come provided. I'll come prepar'd. I'll set upon you accoutred. I'll come furnish'd with a sharp Stomach; do you take Care that you have enough to satisfy a Vulture. I'll prepare my Belly and whet my Teeth; do you look to it, to get enough to satisfy a Wolf.

_Pe._ Come and welcome, I dare you to it. Come on, if you can do any Thing, do it to your utmost, with all your Might.

_Ch._ I'll come, but I won't come alone.

_Pe._ You shall be the more welcome for that; but who will you bring with you?

_Ch._ My _Umbra_.

_Pe._ You can't do otherwise if you come in the Day Time.

_Ch._ Ay, but I'll bring one _Umbra_ or two that have got Teeth, that you shan't have invited me for nothing.

_Pe._ Well, do as you will, so you don't bring any Ghosts along with you. But if you please explain what is the Meaning of the Word _Umbra_.

_Ch._ Among the Learned they are call'd _Umbræ_, who being uninvited, bear another Person, that is invited, Company to a Feast.

_Pe._ Well, bring such Ghosts along with you as many as you will.

* * * * *

_I promise upon this Condition._

_Ch._ Well, I will come, but upon this Condition, that you shall come to Supper with me the next Day. I will do it upon this Condition that you shall be my Guest afterwards. Upon that Condition I promise to come to Supper, that you again shall be my Guest. I promise I will, but upon these Terms, that you in the like Manner shall be my Guest the next Day. I promise I will, I give you my Word I will, upon this Consideration, that you dine with me the next Day.

_Pe._ Come on, let it be done, let it be so. It shall be as you would have it. If you command me, I'll do it. I know the _French_ Ambition, You won't sup with me, but you'll make me Amends for it. And so by this Means Feasts use to go round. From hence it comes to pass, that it is a long Time before we have done feasting one with another. By this Interchangeableness Feasts become reciprocal without End.

_Ch._ It is the pleasantest Way of Living in the World, if no more Provision be made, but what is used to be made daily. But, I detain you, it may be, when you are going some whither.

_Pe._ Nay, I believe, I do you. But we'll talk more largely and more freely to Morrow. But we'll divert ourselves to Morrow more plentifully. In the mean Time take Care of your Health. In the mean Time take Care to keep yourself in good Health. Farewell till then.

* * * * *

_Whither are you going? The Form._

_Ch._ Where are you a going now? Whither are you going so fast? Where are you a going in such great Haste. Whither go you? What's your Way?

* * * * *

_I go Home. The Form._

_Pe._ I go Home. I return Home. I go to see what they are a doing at Home. I go to call a Doctor. I am going into the Country. I made an Appointment just at this Time to go to speak with a certain great Man. I made an Appointment to meet a great Man at this Time.

_Ch._ Whom?

_Pe._ Talkative _Curio_.

_Ch._ I wish you _Mercury_'s Assistance.

_Pe._ What need of _Mercury_'s Assistance?

_Ch._ Because you have to do with a Man of Words.

_Pe._ Then it were more proper to wish the Assistance of the Goddess _Memoria_.

_Ch._ Why so?

_Pe._ Because you'll have more Occasion for patient Ears, than a strenuous Tongue. And the Ear is dedicated to the Goddess _Memoria_.

_Ch._ Whither are you going? Whither will you go?

_Pe._ This Way, to the left Hand. This Way, that Way, through the Market.

_Ch._ Then I'll bear you Company as far as the next Turning.

_Pe._ I won't let you go about. You shan't put yourself to so much Trouble on my Account. Save that Trouble till it shall be of Use, it is altogether unnecessary at this Time. Don't go out of your Way upon my Account.

_Ch._ I reckon I save my Time while I enjoy the Company of so good a Friend. I have nothing else to do, and I am not so lazy, if my Company won't be troublesome.

_Pe._ No Body is a more pleasant Companion. But I won't suffer you to go on my left Hand. I won't let you walk on my left Hand. Here I bid God be with you. I shall not bear you Company any longer. You shan't go further with me.

* * * * *

_A Form of Recommending._

_Ch._ Recommend me kindly to _Curio_. Recommend me as kindly as may be to talkative _Curio_. Take Care to recommend me heartily to _Curio_. I desire you have me recommended to him. I recommend myself to him by you. I recommend myself to you again and again. I recommend myself to your Favour with all the Earnestness possible. Leave _recommendo_ instead of _commendo_ to _Barbarians_. See that you don't be sparing of your Speech with one that is full of Tongue. See that you be not of few Words with him that is a Man of many Words.

* * * * *

_A Form of Obsequiousness._

_Pe._ Would you have me obey you? Would you have me be obedient? Shall I obey you? Then you command me to imitate you. Since you would have it so, I'll do it with all my Heart. Don't hinder me any longer; don't let us hinder one another.

_Ch._ But before you go, I intreat you not to think much to teach me how I must use these Sentences, _in morâ, in causâ, in culpâ_; you use to be studious of Elegancy. Wherefore come on, I entreat you teach me; explain it to me, I love you dearly.

* * * * *

_In Culpâ, In Causâ, In Morâ._

_Pe._ I must do as you would have me. The Fault is not in me. It is not in thee. The Delay is in thee. Thou art the Cause, is indeed grammatically spoken; these are more elegant.

_In Culpâ._

I am not in the Fault. The Fault is not mine. I am without Fault. Your Idleness has been the Cause, that you have made no Proficiency, not your Master nor your Father. You are all in Fault. You are both in Fault. You are both to be blam'd. Ye are both to be accus'd. You have gotten this Distemper by your own ill Management. In like Manner they are said to be _in vitio_, to whom the Fault is to be imputed; and _in crimine_, they who are to be blam'd; and _in damno_, who are Losers. This sort of Phrase is not to be inverted commonly; _Damnum in illo est. Vitium in illo est._

* * * * *

_In Causâ._

Sickness has been the Occasion that I have not written to you. My Affairs have been the Cause that I have written to you so seldom, and not Neglect. What was the Cause? What Cause was there? I was not the Cause. The Post-Man was in the Fault that you have had no Letters from me. Love and not Study is the Cause of your being so lean. This is the Cause.

_In Morâ._

I won't hinder you. What has hinder'd you? You have hindred us. You are always a Hindrance. What hindred you? Who has hindred you? You have what you ask'd for. It is your Duty to remember it. You have the Reward of your Respect. Farewell, my _Christian_.

_Ch._ And fare you well till to Morrow, my _Peter_.

* * * * *

_At Meeting._

_CHRISTIAN, AUSTIN._

_Ch._ God save you heartily, sweet _Austin_.

_Au._ I wish the same to you, most kind _Christian_. Good Morrow to you. I wish you a good Day; but how do you do?

_Ch._ Very well as Things go, and I wish you what you wish for.

_Au._ I love you deservedly. I love thee. Thou deservest to be lov'd heartily. Thou speakest kindly. Thou art courteous. I give thee Thanks.

* * * * *

_I am angry with thee. The Form._

_Ch._ But I am something angry with you. But I am a little angry with you. But I am a little provok'd at you. I have something to be angry with you for.

* * * * *

_For what Cause. The Form._

_Au._ I pray what is it? Why so? But why, I beseech you? What Crime have I committed? What have I done? _Promereor bona_, I deserve Good; _Commereor mala_, I deserve Ill, or Punishment: The one is used in a good Sense, and the other in an ill. _Demeremur eum_, is said of him that we have attach'd to us by Kindness.

* * * * *

_Because you don't Regard me._

_Ch._ Because you take no Care of me. Because you don't regard me. Because you come to see us so seldom. Because you wholly neglect us. Because you quite neglect me. Because you seem to have cast off all Care of us.

_Au._ But there is no Cause for you to be angry. But you are angry without my Desert, and undeservedly; for it has not been my Fault, that I have come to see you but seldom: Forgive my Hurry of Business that has hindered me from seeing you, as often as I would have done.

_Ch._ I will pardon you upon this Condition, if you'll come to Supper with me to Night. I'll quit you upon that Condition, if you come to Supper with me in the Evening.

_Au. Christian_, you prescribe no hard Articles of Peace, and therefore I'll come with all my Heart. Indeed I will do it willingly. Indeed I would do that with all Readiness in the World. I shan't do that unwillingly. I won't want much Courting to that. There is nothing in the World that I would do with more Readiness. I will do it with a willing Mind.

_Ch._ I commend your obliging Temper in this, and in all other Things.

_Au._ I use always to be thus obsequious to my Friends, especially when they require nothing but what's reasonable. O ridiculous! Do you think I would refuse when offer'd me, that which I should have ask'd for of my own Accord?

* * * * *

_Don't deceive me. The Form._

_Ch._ Well, but take Care you don't delude me. See you don't deceive me. Take Care you don't make me feed a vain Hope. See you don't fail my Expectation. See you don't disappoint me. See you don't lull me on with a vain Hope.

_Au._ There is no Need to swear. In other Things, in other Matters you may be afraid of Perfidy. In this I won't deceive you. But hark you, see that you provide nothing but what you do daily: I would have no holy Day made upon my Account. You know that I am a Guest that am no great Trencher Man, but a very merry Man.

_Ch._ I'll be sure to take Care. I will entertain you with Scholars Commons, if not with slenderer Fare.

_Au._ Nay, if you'd please me, let it be with _Diogenes_'s Fare.

_Ch._ You may depend upon it, I will treat you with a _Platonick_ Supper, in which you shall have a great many learned Stories, and but a little Meat, the Pleasure of which shall last till the next Day: whereas they that have been nobly entertain'd, enjoy perhaps a little Pleasure that Day, but the next are troubled with the Head-ach, and Sickness at the Stomach. He that supp'd with _Plato_, had one Pleasure from the easy Preparation, and Philosopher's Stories; and another the next Day, that his Head did not ach, and that his Stomach was not sick, and so had a good Dinner of the sauce of last Night's Supper.

_Au._ I like it very well, let it be as you have said.

_Ch._ Do you see that you leave all your Cares and melancholy Airs at Home, and bring nothing hither but Jokes and Merriment; and as _Juvenal_ says,

_Protenus ante meum, quicquid dolet, exue limen.

Lay all that troubles you down before my Door, before you come into it._

_Au._ What? Would you have me bring no Learning along with me? I will bring my Muses with me, unless you think it not convenient.

_Ch._ Shut up your ill-natured Muses at Home with your Business, but bring your good-natured Muses, all your witty Jests, your By-words, your Banters, your Pleasantries, your pretty Sayings, and all your Ridiculosities along with you.

_Au._ I'll do as you bid me; put on all my best Looks. We'll be merry Fellows. We'll laugh our Bellies full. We'll make much of ourselves. We'll feast jovially. We'll play the _Epicureans_. We'll set a good Face on't, and be boon Blades. These are fine Phrases of clownish Fellows that have a peculiar Way of speaking to themselves.

_Ch._ Where are you going so fast?

_Au._ To my Son's in Law.

_Ch._ What do you do there? Why thither? What do you with him?

_Au._ I hear there is Disturbance among them; I am going to make them Friends again, to bring them to an Agreement; to make Peace among them.

_Ch._ You do very well, though I believe they don't want you; for they will make the Matter up better among themselves.

_Au._ Perhaps there is a Cessation of Arms, and the Peace is to be concluded at Night. But have you any Thing else to say to me?

_Ch._ I will send my Boy to call you.

_Au._ When you please. I shall be at Home. Farewell.

_Ch._ I wish you well. See that you be here by five a-Clock. Soho _Peter_, call _Austin_ to Supper, who you know promised to come to Supper with me to Day.

_Pe._ Soho! Poet, God bless you, Supper has been ready this good While, and my Master stays for you at Home, you may come when you will.

_Au._ I come this Minute.

_The PROFANE FEAST._

The ARGUMENT.

_Our_ Erasmus _most elegantly proposes all the Furniture
of this Feast; the Discourses and Behaviour of the
Entertainer and the Guests_, &c. _Water and a Bason
before Dinner. The_ Stoics, _the_ Epicureans; _the Form
of the Grace at Table. It is good Wine that pleases four
Senses. Why_ Bacchus _is the Poets God; why he is painted
a Boy. Mutton very wholsome. That a Man does not live by
Bread and Wine only. Sleep makes some Persons fat.
Venison is dear. Concerning Deers, Hares, and Geese: They
of old defended the Capitol at_ Rome. _Of Cocks, Capons
and Fishes. Here is discoursed of by the by, Fasting. Of
the Choice of Meats. Some Persons Superstition in that
Matter. The Cruelty of those Persons that require these
Things of those Persons they are hurtful to; when the
eating of Fish is neither necessary, nor commanded by
Christ. The eating of Fish is condemned by Physicians.
The chief Luxury of old Time consisted in Fishes. We
should always live a sober Life. What Number of Guests
there should be at an Entertainment. The Bill of Fare of
the second Course. The Magnificence of the_ French. _The
ancient Law of Feasts. Either drink, or begone. A
Variation of Phrases. Thanksgiving after Meat._

AUSTIN, CHRISTIAN, _a_ BOY.

_Au._ O, my _Christian_, God bless you.

_Ch._ It is very well that you are come. I am glad you're come. I congratulate myself that you are come. I believe it has not struck five yet.

_Boy._ Yes, it is a good While past five. It is not far from six. It is almost six. You'll hear it strike six presently.

_Au._ It is no great Matter whether I come before five or after five, as long as I am not come after Supper; for that is a miserable Thing, to come after a Feast is over. What's all this great Preparation for? What means all this Provision? What, do you think I'm a Wolf? Do you take me for a Wolf? Do you think I'm a Vulture?

_Ch._ Not a Vulture, nor yet do I think you a Grashopper, to live upon Dew. Here is nothing of Extravagancy, I always lov'd Neatness, and abhor Slovenliness. I am for being neither luxurious nor niggardly. We had better leave than lack. If I dress'd but one Dish of Peas, and the Soot should chance to fall in the Pot and spoil it, what should we have to eat then? Nor does every Body love one Thing; therefore I love a moderate Variety.

_Au._ An't you afraid of the sumptuary Laws?

_Ch._ Nay, I most commonly offend on the contrary Side. There is no need of the _Fannian_ Law at our House. The Slenderness of my Income teaches me Frugality sufficiently.

_Au._ This is contrary to our Agreement. You promised me quite otherwise.

_Ch._ Well, Mr. Fool, you don't stand to your Agreement. For it was agreed upon that you should bring nothing but merry Tales. But let us have done with these Matters, and wash, and sit down to Supper. Soho, Boy, bring a little Water and a Bason; hang a Towel over your Shoulder, pour out some Water. What do you loiter for? Wash, _Austin_.

_Au._ Do you wash first.

_Ch._ Pray excuse me. I had rather eat my Supper with unwashen Hands this twelve Months.

_Au._ O ridiculous! 'Tis not he that is the most honourable, but he that is the dirtiest that should wash first; then do you wash as the dirtiest.

_Ch._ You are too complaisant. You are more complaisant than enough; than is fitting. But to what Purpose is all this Ceremony? Let us leave these trifling Ceremonies to Women, they are quite kick'd out of the Court already, although they came from thence at first. Wash three or four at a Time. Don't let us spend the Time in these Delays. I won't place any Body, let every one take what Place he likes best. He that loves to sit by the Fire, will sit best here. He that can't bear the Light let him take this Corner. He that loves to look about him, let him sit here. Come, here has been Delays enough. Sit down. I am at Home, I'll take my Supper standing, or walking about, which I like best. Why don't you sit down, Supper will be spoiled.

_Au._ Now let us enjoy ourselves, and eat heartily. Now let us be _Epicures_. We have nothing to do with Superciliousness. Farewell Care, let all Ill-will and Detraction be banished. Let us be merry, pleasant, and facetious.

_Ch. Austin_, pray who are those _Stoics_ and _Epicures_?

_Au._ The _Stoics_ are a certain melancholy, rigid, parcimonious Sect of Philosophers, who make the _Summum bonum_ of Mankind, to consist in a certain, I can't tell what, _honestum_. The _Epicures_ are the Reverse of these, and they make the Felicity of a Man to consist in Pleasure.

_Ch._ Pray what Sect are you of, a _Stoic_ or an _Epicure_?

_Au._ I recommend _Zeno_'s Rules; but I follow _Epicurus_'s Practice.

_Ch. Austin_, what you speak in Jest, a great many do in Earnest, and are only Philosophers by their Cloaks and Beards.

_Au._ Nay, indeed they out-live the _Asots_ in Luxury.

_Ch. Dromo_, come hither. Do your Office, say Grace.

_Boy._ "May he that feeds all Things by his Bounty, command his Blessing upon what is or shall be set upon this Table. Amen."

_Ch._ Set the Victuals on the Table. Why do we delay to eat up this Capon? Why are we afraid to carve this Cock?

_Au._ I'll be _Hercules_, and slay this Beast. Which had you rather have, a Wing or a Leg?

_Ch._ Which you will, I don't matter which.

_Au._ In this Sort of Fowls the Wing is look'd upon the best; in other Fowls the Leg is commonly esteemed the greater dainty Bit.

_Ch._ I put you to a great Deal of Trouble. You take a great Deal of Trouble upon you, upon my Account. You help every Body else, and eat nothing yourself. I'll help you to this Wing; but upon this Condition, that you shall give me Half of it back.

_Au._ Say you so, that is serving yourself and not me; keep it for yourself. I am not so bashful as to want any Body to help me.

_Ch._ You do very well.

_Au._ Do you carve for a Wolf? Have you invited a Vulture?

_Ch._ You fast. You don't eat.

_Au._ I eat more than any Body.

_Ch._ Nay, rather, you lye more than any Body. Pray be as free as if you were at your own House.

_Au._ I take myself to be there. I do so. I am resolv'd so to do. I design to do so.

_Ch._ How does this Wine please you? Does this Wine please your Palate?

_Au._ Indeed it pleases me very well. Indeed it pleases mightily. It pleases me well enough. It pleases me very well.

_Ch._ Which had you rather have, Red or White?

_It is no Matter what Colour it is._

_Au._ Indeed I like both alike. It is no Matter what Colour 'tis, so the Taste be pleasing. I don't much mind how the Wine pleases the Eye, so it do but please the Palate. I an't much mov'd at the Sight of it, if the Taste be but grateful. It is no great Matter what Colour it is of, or what Colour it has, if it does but taste well. I don't desire to please my Eyes if I can but please my Taste. If it do but please the Palate, I don't regard the Colour, if it be well relish'd.

_Ch._ I believe so: But there are some Persons that are mighty deeply read in Table Philosophy, who deny that the Wine can be good, unless it pleases four Senses: The Eye, with its Colour; the Nose, with its Smell; the Palate, with its Taste; the Ears, by its Fame and Name.

_Au._ O ridiculous! What signifies Fame to Drink?

_Ch._ As much as many that have a good Palate mightily approve of _Lovain_ Wine, when they believe it to be _Bern_ Wine.

_Au._ It may be, they had spoiled their Palate by much Drinking.

_Ch._ No, before they had drank one Drop. But I have a Mind to hear your Opinion, who are a Man of great Skill in these Matters.

_Au._ Our Countrymen prefer White before Red, because the Red is a little more upon the Acid, and the White a smaller Wine; but that is the milder, and in my Opinion the more wholsome.

_Ch._ We have a pale red Wine, and a yellow Wine, and a purple Colour Wine. This is new Wine, this Year's Wine. This is two Years old, if any Body is for an old Wine. We have some four Years old, but it is grown flat and dead with Age. The Strength is gone with Age.

_Au._ Why, you're as rich as _Lucullus_.

_Ch._ Soho, Boy, where are you a loitering? You give us no Attendance; don't you see we have no Wine here? What if a Fire should happen now? How should we put it out? Give every one a full Glass. _Austin_, What's the matter that you are not merry? What makes you sit so Melancholy? What's the Matter with you, that you an't chearful? You are either troubled at something, or you're making Verses. You play the _Crysippus_ now, you want a _Melissa_ to feed you.

_Au._ What Story is this you are telling me of?

_Ch. Crysippus_ is reported to have been so intent upon his logical Subtilties, that he would have been starved at Table, unless his Maid _Melissa_ had put the Meat into his Mouth.

_Au._ He did not deserve to have his Life sav'd; but if Silence is an Offence to you, and you love a noisy Feast, you have gotten that will make one.

_Ch._ I remember I have. That's very well minded: We must drink more freely, we ought to drink more largely, more Wine and less Water.

_You have hit on the Matter._

_Au._ You have hit the Nail on the Head. You are in the Right. You have hit the Mark. For,

_Foecundi calices quem non fecere disertum?_

_Ch._ That is very learnedly spoken, _Austin_, and so indeed is all that comes from you; but since we are fallen into a Discourse concerning Wine, since we have happen'd to make mention of Wine, I have a mind to ask you, for what Reason the Ancients, who will have _Bacchus_ the Inventor of Wine, call him the God of the Poets? What has that drunken God to do with Poets, who are the Votaries of the Virgin Muses?

_Au._ By _Bacchus_, this is a Question fit to be put over a Bottle. But I see very well, what your Question drives at.

_Ch._ What, prithee?

_Au._ You very cunningly put a Question about Wine, by a _French_ Trick, which I believe you learn'd at _Paris_, that you may save your Wine by that Means. Ah, go your Way, I see you're a Sophister; you have made a good Proficiency in that School.

_Ch._ Well, I take all your Jokes; I'll return the like to you, when Opportunity shall offer. But to the Matter in Hand.

_Au._ I'll go on, but I'll drink first, for it is absurd to dispute about a tippling Question with a dry Throat. Here's to you _Christian_. Half this Cup to you.

_Ch._ I thank you kindly. God bless it to you, much good may it do you.

_Au._ Now I'm ready, at your Service. I'll do it as well as I can after my Manner. That they have given a Boy's Face to _Bacchus_, has this Mystery in it; that Wine being drank, takes away Cares and Vexations from our Minds, and adds a Sort of a Chearfulness to them. And for this Reason, it adds a Sort of Youthfulness even to old Men, in that it makes them more chearful, and of a better Complexion. The same thing _Horace_ in many Places, and particularly testifies in these Verses: