Tho. Well, what do they do?

Ans. They mount themselves upon black Horses, and privately carry Fire along with them; when they come pretty near to the Circle, they shew the Fire to affright Faunus out of the Circle.

Tho. What a Deal of Pains did this Polus take to put a Cheat upon People?

Ans. His Fancy lies that Way. But this Matter had like to have been mischievous to them.

Tho. How so?

Ans. For the Horses were so startled at the sudden flashing of the Fire, that they had like to have thrown their Riders. Here's an End of the first Act of this Comedy. When they were returned and entered into Discourse, Polus, as though he had known nothing of the Matter, enquires what was done. Faunus tells him, that two hideous Caco-daemons appear'd to him on black Horses, their Eyes sparkling with Fire, and breathing Fire out of their Nostrils, making an Attempt to break into the Circle, but that they were driven away with a Vengeance, by the Power and Efficacy of his Words. This Encounter having put Courage into Faunus, the next Day he goes into his Circle again with great Solemnity, and after he had provok'd the Spirit a long Time with the Vehemence of his Words, Polus and his Companion appear again at a pretty Distance, with their black Horses, with a most outragious Noise, making a Feint, as if they would break into the Circle.

Tho. Had they no Fire then?

Ans. No, none at all; for that had lik'd to have fallen out very unluckily to them. But hear another Device: They drew a long Rope over the Ground, and then hurrying from one Place to another, as though they were beat off by the Exorcisms of Faunus, they threw down both the Priest and holy Water-Pot all together.

Tho. This Reward the Parish-Priest had for playing his Part?

Ans. Yes, he had; and for all that, he had rather suffer this than quit the Design. After this Encounter, when they came to talk over the Matter again, Faunus tells a mighty Story to Polus, what great Danger he had been in, and how couragiously he had driven both the evil Spirits away with his Charms, and now he had arriv'd at a firm Persuasion, that there was no Daemon, let him be ever so mischievous or impudent, that could possibly break into this Circle.

Tho. This Faunus was not far from being a Fool.

Ans. You have heard nothing yet. The Comedy being thus far advanc'd, Polus's Son-in-Law comes in very good Time, for he had married Polus's eldest Daughter; he's a wonderful merry Droll, you know.

Tho. Know him! Ay, I know him, that he has no Aversion for such Tricks as these.

Ans. No Aversion, do you say, nay he would leave the most urgent Affair in the World, if such a Comedy were either to be seen or acted. His Father-in-Law tells him the whole Story, and gives him his Part, that was, to act the Ghost. He puts on a Dress, and wraps himself up in a Shrowd, and carrying a live Coal in a Shell, it appear'd through his Shrowd as if something were burning. About Night he goes to the Place where this Play was acted, there were heard most doleful Moans. Faunus lets fly all his Exorcisms. At Length the Ghost appears a good Way off in the Bushes, every now and then shewing the Fire, and making a rueful Groaning. While Faunus was adjuring the Ghost to declare who he was, Polus of a sudden leaps out of the Thicket, dress'd like a Devil, and making a Roaring, answers him, you have nothing to do with this Soul, it is mine; and every now and then runs to the very Edge of the Circle, as if he would set upon the Exorcist, and then retired back again, as if he was beaten back by the Words of the Exorcism, and the Power of the holy Water, which he threw upon him in great Abundance. At last when this guardian Devil was chased away, Faunus enters into a Dialogue with the Soul. After he had been interrogated and abjured, he answers, that he was the Soul of a Christian Man, and being asked his Name, he answered Faunus. Faunus! replies the other, that's my Name. So then they being Name-Sakes, he laid the Matter more to Heart, that Faunus might deliver Faunus. Faunus asking a Multitude of Questions, lest a long Discourse should discover the Fraud, the Ghost retires, saying it was not permitted to stay to talk any longer, because its Time was come, that it must go whither its Devil pleased to carry it; but yet promised to come again the next Day, at what Hour it could be permitted. They meet together again at Polus's House, who was the Master of the Show. There the Exorcist relates what was done, and tho' he added some Lies to the Story, yet he believed them to be true himself, he was so heartily affected with the Matter in Hand. At last it appeared manifestly, that it was the Soul of a Christian who was vexed with the dreadful Torments of an unmerciful Devil: Now all the Endeavours are bent this Way. There happened a ridiculous Passage in the next Exorcism.

Tho. Prithee what was that?

Ans. When Faunus had called up the Ghost, Polus, that acted the Devil, leap'd directly at him, as if he would, without any more to do, break into the Circle; and Faunus he resisted stoutly with his Exorcisms, and had thrown a power of holy Water, the Devil at last cries out, that he did not value all this of a Rush; you have had to do with a Wench, and you are my own yourself. And tho' Polus said so in Jest, it seemed that he had spoken Truth: For the Exorcist being touched with this Word, presently retreated to the very Centre of the Circle, and whispered something in the Priest's Ear. Polus seeing that, retires, that he might not hear what it was not fit for him to hear.

Tho. In Truth, Polus was a very modest, religious Devil.

Ans. He was so, otherwise he might have been blamed for not observing a Decorum, but yet he heard the Priest's Voice appointing him Satisfaction.

Tho. What was that?

Ans. That he should say the glorious 78th Psalm, three Times over, by which he conjectured he had had to do with her three Times that Night.

Tho. He was an irregular Regular.

Ans. They are but Men, and this is but human Frailty.

Tho. Well, proceed: what was done after this?

Ans. Now Faunus more couragiously advances to the very Edge of the Circle, and challenges the Devil of his own Accord; but the Devil's Heart failed him, and he fled back. You have deceived me, says he, if I had been wise I had not given you that Caution: Many are of Opinion, that what you have once confess'd is immediately struck out of the Devil's Memory, that he can never be able to twit you in the Teeth for it.

Tho. What a ridiculous Conceit do you tell me of?

Ans. But to draw towards a Conclusion of the Matter: This Dialogue with the Ghost held for some Days; at last it came to this Issue: The Exorcist asking the Soul, If there was any Way by which it might possibly be delivered from its Torments, it answered, it might, if the Money that it had left behind, being gotten by Cheating, should be restored. Then, says Faunus, What if it were put into the Hands of good People, to be disposed of to pious Uses? The Spirit reply'd, That might do. The Exorcist was rejoic'd at this; he enquires particularly, What Sum there was of it? The Spirit reply'd, That it was a vast Sum, and might prove very good and commodious: it told the Place too where the Treasure was hid, but it was a long Way off: And it order'd what Uses it should be put to.

Tho. What were they?

Ans. That three Persons were to undertake a Pilgrimage; one to the Threshold of St. Peter; another to salute St. James at Compostella; and the third should kiss Jesus's Comb at Tryers; and after that, a vast Number of Services and Masses should be performed in several great Monasteries; and as to the Overplus, he should dispose of it as he pleas'd. Now Faunus's Mind was fixed upon the Treasure; he had, in a Manner, swallowed it in his Mind.

Tho. That's a common Disease; but more peculiarly thrown in the Priests Dish, upon all Occasions.

Ans. After nothing had been omitted that related to the Affair of the Money, the Exorcist being put upon it by Polus, began to put Questions to the Spirit, about several Arts, as Alchymy and Magick. To these Things the Spirit gave Answers, putting off the Resolution of these Questions for the present, promising it would make larger Discoveries as soon as ever, by his Assistance, it should get out of the Clutches of its Keeper, the Devil; and, if you please, you may let this be the third Act of this Play. As to the fourth Act, Faunus began, in good Earnest, everywhere to talk high, and to talk of nothing else in all Companies and at the Table, and to promise glorious Things to Monasteries; and talk'd of nothing that was low and mean. He goes to the Place, and finds the Tokens, but did not dare to dig for the Treasure, because the Spirit had thrown this Caution in the Way, that it would be extremely dangerous to touch the Treasure, before the Masses had been performed. By this Time, a great many of the wiser Sort had smelt out the Plot, while Faunus at the same Time was every where proclaiming his Folly; tho' he was privately cautioned by his Friends, and especially his Abbot, that he who had hitherto had the Reputation of a prudent Man, should not give the World a Specimen of his being quite contrary. But the Imagination of the Thing had so entirely possess'd his Mind, that all that could be said of him, had no Influence upon him, to make him doubt of the Matter; and he dreamt of nothing but Spectres and Devils: The very Habit of his Mind was got into his Face, that he was so pale, and meagre and dejected, that you would say he was rather a Sprite than a Man: And in short, he was not far from being stark mad, and would have been so, had it not been timely prevented.

Tho. Well, let this be the last Act of the Play.

Ans. Well, you shall have it. Polus and his Son-in-Law, hammer'd out this Piece betwixt them: They counterfeited an Epistle written in a strange antique Character, and not upon common Paper, but such as Gold-Beaters put their Leaf-Gold in, a reddish Paper, you know. The Form of the Epistle was this:

Faunus, long a Captive, but now free. To Faunus, his gracious Deliverer sends eternal Health. There is no Need, my dear Faunus, that thou shouldest macerate thyself any longer in this Affair. God has respected the pious Intention of thy Mind; and by the Merit of it, has delivered me from Torments, and I now live happily among the Angels. Thou hast a Place provided for thee with St. Austin, which is next to the Choir of the Apostles: When thou earnest to us, I will give thee publick Thanks. In the mean Time, see that thou live merrily.

From the Imperial Heaven, the Ides of September, Anno 1498. Under the Seal of my own Ring.

This Epistle was laid privately under the Altar where Faunus was to perform divine Service: This being done, there was one appointed to advertise him of it, as if he had found it by Chance. And now he carries the Letter about him, and shews it as a very sacred Thing; and believes nothing more firmly, than that it was brought from Heaven by an Angel.

Tho. This is not delivering the Man from his Madness, but changing the Sort of it.

Ans. Why truly, so it is, only he is now more pleasantly mad than before.

Tho. I never was wont to give much Credit to Stories of Apparitions in common; but for the Time to come, I shall give much less: For I believe that many Things that have been printed and published, as true Relations, were only by Artifice and Imposture, Impositions upon credulous Persons, and such as Faunus.

Ans. And I also believe that a great many of them are of the same Kind.



The ALCHYMIST.

The ARGUMENT.

This Colloquy shews the Dotage of an old Man, otherwise a very prudent Person, upon this Art; being trick'd by a Priest, under Pretence of a two-Fold Method in this Art, the long Way and the short Way. By the long Way he puts an egregious Cheat upon old Balbinus: The Alchymist lays the Fault upon his Coals and Glasses. Presents of Gold are sent to the Virgin Mary, that she would assist them in their Undertakings. Some Courtiers having come to the Knowledge that Balbinus practis'd this unlawful Art, are brib'd. At last the Alchymist is discharg'd, having Money given him to bear his Charges.

PHILECOUS, LALUS.

Phi. What News is here, that Lalus laughs to himself so that he e'en giggles again, every now and then signing himself with the Sign of the Cross? I'll interrupt his Felicity. God bless you heartily, my very good Friend Lalus; you seem to me to be very happy.

La. But I shall be much happier, if I make you a Partaker of my merry Conceitedness.

Phi. Prithee, then, make me happy as soon as you can.

La. Do you know Balbinus?

Phi. What, that learned old Gentleman that has such a very good Character in the World?

La. It is as you say; but no Man is wise at all Times, or is without his blind Side. This Man, among his many good Qualifications, has some Foibles: He has been a long Time bewitch'd with the Art call'd Alchymy.

Phi. Believe me, that you call only Foible, is a dangerous Disease.

La. However that is, notwithstanding he had been so often bitten by this Sort of People, yet he has lately suffer'd himself to be impos'd upon again.

Phi. In what Manner?

La. A certain Priest went to him, saluted him with great Respect, and accosted him in this Manner: Most learned Balbinus, perhaps you will wonder that I, being a Stranger to you, should thus interrupt you, who, I know, are always earnestly engag'd in the most sacred Studies. Balbinus gave him a Nod, as was his Custom; for he is wonderfully sparing of his Words.

Phi. That's an Argument of Prudence.

La. But the other, as the wiser of the two, proceeds. You will forgive this my Importunity, when you shall know the Cause of my coming to you. Tell me then, says Balbinus, but in as few Words as you can. I will, says he, as briefly as I am able. You know, most learned of Men, that the Fates of Mortals are various; and I can't tell among which I should class myself, whether among the happy or the miserable; for when I contemplate my Fate on one Part, I account myself most happy, but if on the other Part, I am one of the most miserable. Balbinus pressing him to contract his Speech into a narrow Compass; I will have done immediately, most learned Balbinus, says he, and it will be the more easy for me to do it, to a Man who understands the whole Affair so well, that no Man understands it better.

Phi. You are rather drawing an Orator than an Alchymist.

La. You shall hear the Alchymist by and by. This Happiness, says he, I have had from a Child, to have learn'd that most desirable Art, I mean Alchymy, the very Marrow of universal Philosophy. At the very Mention of the Name Alchymy, Balbinus rais'd himself a little, that is to say, in Gesture only, and fetching a deep Sigh, bid him go forward. Then he proceeds: But miserable Man that I am, said he, by not falling into the right Way! Balbinus asking him what Ways those were he spoke of; Good Sir, says he, you know (for what is there, most learned Sir, that you are ignorant of?) that there are two Ways in this Art, one which is call'd the Longation, and the other which is call'd the Curtation. But by my bad Fate, I have fallen upon Longation. Balbinus asking him, what was the Difference of the Ways; it would be impudent in me, says he, to mention this to a Man, to whom all Things are so well known, that Nobody knows them better; therefore I humbly address myself to you, that you would take Pity on me, and vouchsafe to communicate to me that most happy Way of Curtation. And by how much the better you understand this Art, by so much the less Labour you will be able to impart it to me: Do not conceal so great a Gift from your poor Brother that is ready to die with Grief. And as you assist me in this, so may Jesus Christ ever enrich you with more sublime Endowments. He thus making no End of his Solemnity of Obtestations, Balbinus was oblig'd to confess, that he was entirely ignorant of what he meant by Longation and Curtation, and bids him explain the Meaning of those Words. Then he began; Altho' Sir, says he, I know I speak to a Person that is better skill'd than myself, yet since you command me I will do it: Those that have spent their whole Life in this divine Art, change the Species of Things two Ways, the one is shorter, but more hazardous, the other is longer, but safer. I account myself very unhappy, that I have laboured in that Way that does not suit my Genius, nor could I yet find out any Body who would shew me the other Way that I am so passionately desirous of; but at last God has put it into my Mind to apply myself to you, a Man of as much Piety as Learning; your Learning qualifies you to answer my Request with Ease, and your Piety will dispose you to help a Christian Brother, whose Life is in your Hands. To make the Matter short, when this crafty Fellow, with such Expressions as these, had clear'd himself from all Suspicion of a Design, and had gain'd Credit, that he understood one Way perfectly well, Balbinus's Mind began to have an Itch to be meddling. And at last, when he could hold no longer, Away with your Methods, says he, of Curtation, the Name of which I never heard before, I am so far from understanding it. Tell me sincerely, Do you throughly understand Longation? Phoo! says he, perfectly well; but I don't love the Tediousness of it. Then Balbinus asked him, how much Time it wou'd take up. Too much, says he; almost a whole Year; but in the mean Time it is the safest Way. Never trouble yourself about that, says Balbinus, although it should take up two Years, if you can but depend upon your Art. To shorten the Story: They came to an Agreement, that the Business should be set on foot privately in Balbinus's, House, upon this Condition, that he should find Art, and Balbinus Money; and the Profit should be divided between them, although the Imposter modestly offered that Balbinus should have the whole Gain. They both took an Oath of Secrecy, after the Manner of those that are initiated into mysterious Secrets; and presently Money is paid down for the Artist to buy Pots, Glasses, Coals, and other Necessaries for furnishing the Laboratory: This Money our Alchymist lavishes away on Whores, Gaming, and Drinking.

Phi. This is one Way, however, of changing the Species of Things.

La. Balbinus pressing him to fall upon the Business; he replies, Don't you very well know, that what's well begun is half done? It is a great Matter to have the Materials well prepar'd. At last he begins to set up the Furnace; and here there was Occasion for more Gold, as a Bait to catch more: For as a Fish is not caught without a Bait, so Alchymists must cast Gold in, before they can fetch Gold out. In the mean Time, Balbinus was busy in his Accounts; for he reckoned thus, if one Ounce made fifteen, what would be the Product of two thousand; for that was the Sum that he determined to spend. When the Alchymist had spent this Money and two Months Time, pretending to be wonderfully busy about the Bellows and the Coals, Balbinus enquired of him, whether the Business went forward? At first he made no Answer; but at last he urging the Question, he made him Answer, As all great Works do; the greatest Difficulty of which is, in entring upon them: He pretended he had made a Mistake in buying the Coals, for he had bought Oaken ones, when they should have been Beechen or Fir ones. There was a hundred Crowns gone; and he did not spare to go to Gaming again briskly. Upon giving him new Cash, he gets new Coals, and then the Business is begun again with more Resolution than before; just as Soldiers do, when they have happened to meet with a Disaster, they repair it by Bravery. When the Laboratory had been kept hot for some Months, and the golden Fruit was expected, and there was not a Grain of Gold in the Vessel (for the Chymist had spent all that too) another Pretence was found out, That the Glasses they used, were not rightly tempered: For, as every Block will not make a Mercury, so Gold will not be made in any Kind of Glass. And by how much more Money had been spent, by so much the lother he was to give it over.

Phi. Just as it is with Gamesters, as if it were not better to lose some than all.

La. Very true. The Chymist swore he was never so cheated since he was born before; but now having found out his Mistake, he could proceed with all the Security in the World, and fetch up that Loss with great Interest. The Glasses being changed, the Laboratory is furnished the third Time: Then the Operator told him, the Operation would go on more successfully, if he sent a Present of Crowns to the Virgin Mary, that you know is worshipped at Paris; for it was an holy Act: And in Order to have it carried on successfully, it needed the Favour of the Saints. Balbinus liked this Advice wonderfully well, being a very pious Man that never let a Day pass, but he performed some Act of Devotion or other. The Operator undertakes the religious Pilgrimage; but spends this devoted Money in a Bawdy-House in the next Town: Then he goes back, and tells Balbinus that he had great Hope that all would succeed according to their Mind, the Virgin Mary seem'd so to favour their Endeavours. When he had laboured a long Time, and not one Crumb of Gold appearing, Balbinus reasoning the Matter with him, he answered, that nothing like this had ever happened all his Days to him, tho' he had so many Times had Experience of his Method; nor could he so much as imagine what should be the Reason of this Failing. After they had beat their Brains a long Time about the Matter, Balbinus bethought himself, whether he had any Day miss'd going to Chapel, or saying the Horary Prayers, for nothing would succeed, if these were omitted. Says the Imposter you have hit it. Wretch that I am, I have been guilty of that once or twice by Forgetfulness, and lately rising from Table, after a long Dinner, I had forgot to say the Salutation of the Virgin. Why then, says Balbinus, it is no Wonder, that a Thing of this Moment succeeds no better. The Trickster undertakes to perform twelve Services for two that he had omitted, and to repay ten Salutations for that one. When Money every now and then fail'd this extravagant Operator, and he could not find out any Pretence to ask for more, he at last bethought himself of this Project. He comes Home like one frighted out of his Wits, and in a very mournful Tone cries out, O Balbinus I am utterly undone, undone; I am in Danger of my Life. Balbinus was astonished, and was impatient to know what was the Matter. The Court, says he, have gotten an Inkling of what we have been about, and I expect nothing else but to be carried to Gaol immediately. Balbinus, at the hearing of this, turn'd pale as Ashes; for you know it is capital with us, for any Man to practice Alchymy without a License from the Prince: He goes on: Not, says he, that I am afraid of Death myself, I wish that were the worst that would happen, I fear something more cruel. Balbinus asking him what that was, he reply'd, I shall be carried away into some Castle, and there be forc'd to work all my Days, for those I have no Mind to serve. Is there any Death so bad as such a Life? The Matter was then debated, Balbinus being a Man that very well understood the Art of Rhetorick, casts his Thoughts every Way, if this Mischief could be prevented any Way. Can't you deny the Crime, says he? By no Means, says the other; the Matter is known among the Courtiers, and they have such Proof of it that it can't be evaded, and there is no defending of the Fact; for the Law is point-blank against it. Many Things having been propos'd, but coming to no conclusion, that seem'd feasible; says the Alchymist, who wanted present Money, O Balbinus we apply ourselves to slow Counsels, when the Matter requires a present Remedy. It will not be long before they will be here that will apprehend me, and carry me away into Tribulation. And last of all, seeing Balbinus at a Stand, says the Alchymist, I am as much at a Loss as you, nor do I see any Way left, but to die like a Man, unless you shall approve what I am going to propose, which is more profitable than honourable; but Necessity is a hard Chapter. You know these Sort of Men are hungry after Money, and so may be the more easily brib'd to Secrecy. Although it is a hard Case to give these Rascals Money to throw away; but yet, as the Case now stands, I see no better Way. Balbinus was of the same Opinion, and he lays down thirty Guineas to bribe them to hush up the Matter.

Phi. Balbinus was wonderful liberal, as you tell the Story.

La. Nay, in an honest Cause, you would sooner have gotten his Teeth out of his Head than Money. Well, then the Alchymist was provided for, who was in no Danger, but that of wanting Money for his Wench.

Phi. I admire Balbinus could not smoak the Roguery all this While.

La. This is the only Thing that he's soft in, he's as sharp as a Needle in any Thing else. Now the Furnace is set to work again with new Money; but first, a short Prayer is made to the Virgin Mary to prosper their Undertakings. By this Time there had been a whole Year spent, first one Obstacle being pretended, and then another, so that all the Expence and Labour was lost. In the mean Time there fell out one most ridiculous Chance.

Phi. What was that?

La. The Alchymist had a criminal Correspondence with a certain Courtier's Lady: The Husband beginning to be jealous, watch'd him narrowly, and in the Conclusion, having Intelligence that the Priest was in the Bed-Chamber, he comes Home before he was look'd for, knocks at the Door.

Phi. What did he design to do to him?

La. What! Why nothing very good, either kill him or geld him. When the Husband being very pressing to come, threatned he would break open the Door, if his Wife did not open it, they were in bodily Fear within, and cast about for some present Resolution; and Circumstances admitting no better, he pull'd off his Coat, and threw himself out of a narrow Window, but not without both Danger and Mischief, and so got away. Such Stories as these you know are soon spread, and it came to Balbinus's Ear, and the Chymist guess'd it would be so.

Phi. There was no getting off of this Business.

La. Yes, he got off better here, than he did out at the Window. Hear the Man's Invention: Balbinus said not a Word to him about the Matter, but it might be read in his Countenance, that he was no Stranger to the Talk of the Town. The Chymist knew Balbinus to be a Man of Piety, and in some Points, I was going to say, superstitious, and such Persons are very ready to forgive one that falls under his Crime, let it be never so great; therefore, he on Purpose begins a Talk about the Success of their Business, complaining, that it had not succeeded as it us'd to do, and as he would have it; and he-wondered greatly, what should be the Reason of it: Upon this Discourse, Balbinus, who seemed otherwise to have been bent upon Silence, taking an Occasion, was a little moved: It is no hard Matter, says he, to guess what the Obstacle is. Sins are the Obstacles that hinder our Success, for pure Works should be done by pure Persons. At this Word, the Projector fell down on his Knees, and beating his Breast with a very mournful Tone, and dejected Countenance, says, O Balbinus, what you have said is very true, it is Sin, it is Sin that has been the Hinderance; but my Sins, not yours; for I am not asham'd to confess my Uncleanness before you, as I would before my most holy Father Confessor: The Frailty of my Flesh overcame me, and Satan drew me into his Snares; and O miserable Wretch that I am! Of a Priest, I am become an Adulterer; and yet, the Offering that you sent to the Virgin Mother, is not wholly lost neither, for I had perish'd inevitably, if she had not helped me; for the Husband broke open the Door upon me, and the Window was too little for me to get out at; and in this Pinch of Danger, I bethought myself of the blessed Virgin, and I fell upon my Knees, and besought her, that if the Gift was acceptable to her, she would assist me, and in a Minute I went to the Window, (for Necessity forced me so to do) and found it large enough for me to get out at.

Phi. Well, and did Balbinus believe all this?

La. Believe it, yes, and pardon'd him too, and admonish'd him very religiously, not to be ungrateful to the blessed Virgin: Nay, there was more Money laid down, upon his giving his Promise, that he would for the future carry on the Process with Purity.

Phi. Well, what was the End of all this?

La. The Story is very long; but I'll cut it short. When he had play'd upon Balbinus long enough with these Inventions, and wheedled him out of a considerable Sum of Money, a certain Gentleman happen'd to come there, that had known the Knave from a Child: He easily imagining that he was acting the same Part with Balbinus, that he had been acting every where, admonishes Balbinus privately, and acquainted him what Sort of a Fellow he harbour'd, advising him to get rid of him as soon as possible, unless he had a Mind to have him sometime or other, to rifle his Coffers, and then run away.

Phi. Well, what did Balbinus do then? Sure, he took Care to have him sent to Gaol?

La. To Gaol? Nay, he gave him Money to bear his Charges, and conjur'd him by all that was sacred, not to speak a Word of what had happened between them. And in my Opinion, it was his Wisdom so to do, rather than to be the common Laughing-stock, and Table-Talk, and run the Risk of the Confiscation of his Goods besides; for the Imposter was in no Danger; he knew no more of the Matter than an Ass, and cheating is a small Fault in these Sort of Cattle. If he had charg'd him with Theft, his Ordination would have say'd him from the Gallows, and no Body would have been at the Charge of maintaining such a Fellow in Prison.

Phi. I should pity Balbinus; but that he took Pleasure in being gull'd.

La. I must now make haste to the Hall; at another Time I'll tell you Stories more ridiculous than this.

Phi. When you shall be at Leisure, I shall be glad to hear them, and I'll give you Story for Story.



The HORSE-CHEAT.

The ARGUMENT.

The Horse-Cheat lays open the cheating Tricks of those that sell or let out Horses to hire; and shews how those Cheats themselves are sometimes cheated.

AULUS, PHAEDRUS.

Good God! What a grave Countenance our Phaedrus has put on, gaping ever and anon into the Air. I'll attack him. Phaedrus, what News to Day?

Ph. Why do you ask me that Question, Aulus?

Aul. Because, of a Phaedrus, you seem to have become a Cato, there is so much Sourness in your Countenance.

Ph. That's no Wonder, my Friend, I am just come from Confession.

Aul. Nay, then my Wonder's over; but tell me upon your honest Word, did you confess all?

Ph. All that I could remember, but one.

Aul. And why did you reserve that one?

Ph. Because I can't be out of Love with it.

Aul. It must needs be some pleasant Sin.

Ph. I can't tell whether it is a Sin or no; but if you are at Leisure, you shall hear what it is.

Aul. I would be glad to hear it, with all my Heart.

Ph. You know what cheating Tricks are play'd by our Jockeys, who sell and let out Horses.

Aul. Yes, I know more of them than I wish I did, having been cheated by them more than once.

Ph. I had Occasion lately to go a pretty long Journey, and I was in great Haste; I went to one that you would have said was none of the worst of 'em, and there was some small Matter of Friendship between us. I told him I had an urgent Business to do, and had Occasion for a strong able Gelding; desiring, that if he would ever be my Friend in any Thing, he would be so now. He promised me, that he would use me as kindly as if I were his own dear Brother.

Aul. It may be he would have cheated his Brother.

Ph. He leads me into the Stable, and bids me chuse which I would out of them all. At last I pitch'd upon one that I lik'd better than the rest. He commends my Judgment, protesting that a great many Persons had had a Mind to that Horse; but he resolved to keep him rather for a singular Friend, than sell him to a Stranger. I agreed with him as to the Price, paid him down his Money, got upon the Horse's Back. Upon the first setting out, my Steed falls a prancing; you would have said he was a Horse of Mettle; he was plump, and in good Case: But, by that Time I had rid him an Hour and a half, I perceiv'd he was downright tir'd, nor could I by spurring him, get him any further. I had heard that such Jades had been kept for Cheats, that you would take by their Looks to be very good Horses; but were worth nothing for Service. I says to myself presently, I am caught. But when I come Home again, I will shew him Trick for Trick.

Aul. But what did you do in this Case, being a Horseman without a Horse?

Ph. I did what I was oblig'd to do. I turn'd into the next Village, and there I set my Horse up privately, with an Acquaintance, and hired another, and prosecuted my Journey; and when I came back, I return'd my hired Horse, and finding my own in very good Case, and thoroughly rested, I mounted his Back, and rid back to the Horse-Courser, desiring him to set him up for a few Days, till I called for him again. He ask'd me how well he carry'd me; I swore by all that was good, that I never bestrid a better Nag in my Life, that he flew rather than walk'd, nor ever tir'd the least in the World in all so long a Journey, nor was a Hair the leaner for it. I having made him believe that these Things were true, he thought with himself, he had been mistaken in this Horse; and therefore, before I went away, he ask'd me if I would sell the Horse. I refus'd at first; because if I should have Occasion to go such another Journey, I should not easily get the Fellow of him; but however, I valued nothing so much, but I would sell it, if I could have a good Price for it, altho' any Body had a Mind to buy myself.

Aul. This was fighting a Man with his own Weapons.

Ph. In short, he would not let me go away, before I had set a Price upon him. I rated him at a great Deal more than he cost me. Being gone, I got an Acquaintance to act for me, and gave him Instructions how to behave himself: He goes to the House, and calls for the Horse-Courser, telling him, that he had Occasion for a very good, and a very hardy Nag. The Horse-Courser shews him a great many Horses, still commending the worst most of all; but says not a Word of that Horse he had sold me, verily believing he was such as I had represented him. My Friend presently ask'd whether that was not to be sold; for I had given him a Description of the Horse, and the Place where he stood. The Horse-Courser at first made no Answer, but commended the rest very highly. The Gentleman lik'd the other Horses pretty well; but always treated about that very Horse: At last thinks the Horse-Courser with himself, I have certainly been out in my Judgment as to this Horse, if this Stranger could presently pick this Horse out of so many. He insisting upon it, He may be sold, says he; but it may be, you'll be frighted at the Price. The Price, says he, is a Case of no great Importance, if the Goodness of the Thing be answerable: Tell me the Price. He told him something more than I had set him at to him, getting the Overplus to himself. At last the Price was agreed on, and a good large Earnest was given, a Ducat of Gold to bind the Bargain. The Purchaser gives the Hostler a Groat, orders him to give his Horse some Corn, and he would come by and by, and fetch him. As soon as ever I heard the Bargain was made so firmly, that it could not be undone again, I go immediately, booted and spurr'd to the Horse-Courser, and being out of Breath, calls for my Horse. He comes and asks what I wanted: Says I, get my Horse ready presently, for I must be gone this Moment, upon an extraordinary Affair: But, says he, you bid me keep the Horse a few Days: That's true, said I, but this Business has happened unexpectedly, and it is the King's Business, and it will admit of no Delay. Says he, take your Choice, which you will of all my Horses; you cannot have your own. I ask'd him, why so? Because, says he, he is sold. Then I pretended to be in a great Passion; God forbid, says I; as this Journey has happen'd, I would not sell him, if any Man would offer me four Times his Price. I fell to wrangling, and cry out, I am ruin'd: At Length he grew a little warm too: What Occasion is there for all this Contention: You set a Price upon your Horse, and I have sold him; if I pay you your Money, you have nothing more to do to me; we have Laws in this City, and you can't compel me to produce the Horse. When I had clamoured a good While, that he would either produce the Horse, or the Man that bought him: He at last pays me down the Money in a Passion. I had bought him for fifteen Guineas, I set him to him at twenty six, and he had valued him at thirty two, and so computed with himself he had better make that Profit of him, than restore the Horse. I go away, as if I was vex'd in my Mind, and scarcely pacified, tho' the Money was paid me: He desires me not to take it amiss, he would make me Amends some other Way: So I bit the Biter: He has a Horse not worth a Groat; he expected that he that had given him the Earnest, should come and pay him the Money; but no Body came, nor ever will come.

Aul. But in the mean Time, did he never expostulate the Matter with you?

Ph. With what Face or Colour could he do that? I have met him over and over since, and he complain'd of the Unfairness of the Buyer: But I often reason'd the Matter with him, and told him, he deserv'd to be so serv'd, who by his hasty Sale of him, had depriv'd me of my Horse. This was a Fraud so well plac'd, in my Opinion, that I could not find in my Heart to confess it as a Fault.

Aul. If I had done such a Thing, I should have been so far from confessing it as a Fault, that I should have requir'd a Statue for it.

Ph. I can't tell whether you speak as you think or no; but you set me agog however, to be paying more of these Fellows in their own Coin.



The BEGGARS DIALOGUE.

The ARGUMENT.

The Beggars Dialogue paints out the cheating, crafty Tricks of Beggars, who make a Shew of being full of Sores, and make a Profession of Palmistry, and other Arts by which they impose upon many Persons. Nothing is more like Kingship, than the Life of a Beggar.

IRIDES, MISOPONUS.

Ir. What new Sort of Bird is this I see flying here? I know the Face, but the Cloaths don't suit it. If I'm not quite mistaken, this is Misoponus. I'll venture to speak to him, as ragged as I am. God save you, Misoponus.

Mis. Hold your Tongue, I say.

Ir. What's the Matter, mayn't a Body salute you?

Mis. Not by that Name.

Ir. Why, what has happen'd to you? Are you not the same Man that you was? What, have you changed your Name with your Cloaths?

Mis. No, but I have taken up my old Name again.

Ir. Who was you then?

Mis. Apitius.

Ir. Never be asham'd of your old Acquaintance, if any Thing of a better Fortune has happen'd to you. It is not long since you belong'd to our Order.

Mis. Prithee, come hither, and I'll tell you the whole Story. I am not asham'd of your Order; but I am asham'd of the Order that I was first of myself.

Ir. What Order do you mean? That of the Franciscans?

Mis. No, by no Means, my good Friend; but the Order of the Spendthrifts.

Ir. In Truth, you have a great many Companions of that Order.

Mis. I had a good Fortune, I spent lavishly, and when I began to be in Want, no Body knew Apitius. I ran away for Shame, and betook myself to your College: I lik'd that better than digging.

Ir. Very wisely done; but how comes your Body to be in so good Case of late? For as to your Change of Cloaths, I don't so much wonder at that.

Mis. Why so?

Ir. Because the Goddess Laverna makes many rich on a sudden.

Mis. What! do you think I got an Estate by Thieving then?

Ir. Nay, perhaps more idly, by Rapine.

Mis. No, I swear by your Goddess Penia, neither by Thieving, nor by Rapine. But first I'll satisfy you as to the State of my Body, which seems to you to be the most admirable.

Ir. For when you were with us, you were all over full of Sores.

Mis. But I have since made Use of a very friendly Physician.

Ir. Who?

Mis. No other Person but myself, unless you think any Body is more friendly to me, than I am to myself.

Ir. But I never knew you understood Physick before.

Mis. Why all that Dress was nothing but a Cheat I had daub'd on with Paints, Frankincense, Brimstone, Rosin, Birdlime, and Clouts dipp'd in Blood; and what I put on, when I pleas'd I took off again.

Ir. O Impostor! Nothing appear'd more miserable than you were. You might have acted the Part of Job in a Tragedy.

Mis. My Necessity made me do it, though Fortune sometimes is apt to change the Skin too.

Ir. Well then, tell me of your Fortune. Have you found a Treasure?

Mis. No; but I have found out a Way of getting Money that's a little better than yours.

Ir. What could you get Money out of, that had no Stock?

Mis. An Artist will live any where.

Ir. I understand you now, you mean the Art of picking Pockets.

Mis. Not so hard upon me, I pray; I mean the Art of Chymistry.

Ir. Why 'tis scarce above a Fortnight, since you went away from us, and have you in that Time learn'd an Art, that others can hardly learn in many Years?

Mis. But I have got a shorter Way.

Ir. Prithee, what Way?

Mis. When I had gotten almost four Guineas by your Art, I happened, as good Luck would have it, to fall into the Company of an old Companion of mine, who had manag'd his Matters in the World no better than I had done. We went to drink together; he began, as the common Custom is, to tell of his Adventures. I made a Bargain with him to pay his Reckoning, upon Condition that he should faithfully teach me his Art. He taught it me very honestly, and now 'tis my Livelihood.

Ir. Mayn't a Body learn it?

Mis. I'll teach it you for nothing, for old Acquaintance Sake. You know, that there are every where a great many that are very fond of this Art.

Ir. I have heard so, and I believe it is true.

Mis. I take all Opportunities of insinuating myself into their Acquaintance, and talk big of my Art, and where-ever I find an hungry Sea-Cob, I throw him out a Bait.

Ir. How do you do that?

Mis. I caution him by all Means, not rashly to trust Men of that Profession, for that they are most of them Cheats, that by their hocus pocus Tricks, pick the Pockets of those that are not cautious.

Ir. That Prologue is not fit for your Business.

Mis. Nay, I add this further, that I would not have them believe me myself, unless they saw the Matter plainly with their own Eyes, and felt it with their Hands.

Ir. You speak of a wonderful Confidence you have in your Art.

Mis. I bid them be present all the While the Metamorphosis is under the Operation, and to look on very attentively, and that they may have the less Reason to doubt, to perform the whole Operation with their own Hands, while I stand at a Distance, and don't so much as put my Finger to it. I put them to refine the melted Matter themselves, or carry it to the Refiners to be done; I tell them beforehand, how much Silver or Gold it will afford: And in the last Place, I bid them carry the melted Mass to several Goldsmiths, to have it try'd by the Touchstone. They find the exact Weight that I told them; they find it to be the finest Gold or Silver, it is all one to me which it is, except that the Experiment in Silver is the less chargeable to me.

Ir. But has your Art no Cheat in it?

Mis. It is a mere Cheat all over.

Ir. I can't see where the Cheat lies.

Mis. I'll make you see it presently. I first make a Bargain for my Reward, but I won't be paid before I have given a Proof of the Thing itself: I give them a little Powder, as though the whole Business was effected by the Virtue of that; but I never tell them how to make it, except they purchase it at a very great Price. And I make them take an Oath, that for six Months they shall not discover the Secret to any Body living.

Ir. But I han't heard the Cheat yet.

Mis. The whole Mystery lies in one Coal, that I have prepared for this Purpose. I make a Coal hollow, and into it I pour melted Silver, to the Quantity I tell them before-Hand will be produc'd. And after the Powder is put in, I set the Pot in such a Manner, that it is cover'd all over, above, beneath, and Sides, with Coals, and I persuade them, that the Art consists in that; among those Coals that are laid at Top, I put in one that has the Silver or Gold in it, that being melted by the Heat of the Fire, falls down among the other Metal, which melts, as suppose Tin or Brass, and upon the Separation, it is found and taken out.

Ir. A ready Way; but, how do you manage the Fallacy, when another does it all with his own Hands?

Mis. When he has done every Thing, according to my Direction, before the Crucible is stirr'd, I come and look about, to see if nothing has been omitted, and then I say, that there seems to want a Coal or two at the Top, and pretending to take one out of the Coal-Heap, I privately lay on one of my own, or have laid it there ready before-Hand, which I can take, and no Body know any Thing of the Matter.

Ir. But when they try to do this without you, and it does not succeed, what Excuse have you to make?

Mis. I'm safe enough when I have got my Money. I pretend one Thing or other, either that the Crucible was crack'd, or the Coals naught, or the Fire not well tempered. And in the last Place, one Part of the Mystery of my Profession is, never to stay long in the same Place.

Ir. And is there so much Profit in this Art as to maintain you?

Mis. Yes, and nobly too: And I would have you, for the future, if you are wise, leave off that wretched Trade of Begging, and follow ours.

Ir. Nay, I should rather chuse to bring you back to our Trade.

Mis. What, that I should voluntarily return again to that I have escap'd from, and forsake that which I have found profitable?

Ir. This Profession of ours has this Property in it, that it grows pleasant by Custom. And thence it is, that tho' many have fallen off from the Order of St. Francis or St. Benedict, did you ever know any that had been long in our Order, quit it? For you could scarce taste the Sweetness of Beggary in so few Months as you follow'd it.

Mis. That little Taste I had of it taught me, that it was the most wretched Life in Nature.

Ir. Why does no Body quit it then?

Mis. Perhaps, because they are naturally wretched.

Ir. I would not change this Wretchedness, for the Fortune of a King. For there is nothing more like a King, than the Life of a Beggar.

Mis. What strange Story do I hear? Is nothing more like Snow than a Coal?

Ir. Wherein consists the greatest Happiness of Kings?

Mis. Because in that they can do what they please.

Ir. As for that Liberty, than which nothing is sweeter, we have more of it than any King upon Earth; and I don't doubt, but there are many Kings that envy us Beggars. Let there be War or Peace we live secure, we are not press'd for Soldiers, nor put upon Parish-Offices, nor taxed. When the People are loaded with Taxes, there's no Scrutiny into our Way of Living. If we commit any Thing that is illegal, who will sue a Beggar? If we beat a Man, he will be asham'd to fight with a Beggar? Kings can't live at Ease neither in War or in Peace, and the greater they are, the greater are their Fears. The common People are afraid to offend us, out of a certain Sort of Reverence, as being consecrated to God.

Mis. But then, how nasty are ye in your Rags and Kennels?

Ir. What do they signify to real Happiness. Those Things you speak of are out of a Man. We owe our Happiness to these Rags.

Mis. But I am afraid a good Part of your Happiness will fail you in a short Time.

Ir. How so?

Mis. Because I have heard a Talk in the Cities, that there will be a Law, that Mendicants shan't be allow'd to stroll about at their Pleasure, but every City shall maintain its own Poor; and that they that are able shall be made to work.

Ir. What Reason have they for this?

Mis. Because they find great Rogueries committed under Pretence of Begging, and that there are great Inconveniencies arise to the Publick from your Order.

Ir. Ay, I have heard these Stones Time after Time, and they'll bring it about when the Devil's blind.

Mis. Perhaps sooner than you'd have it.



The FABULOUS FEAST.

The ARGUMENT.

The fabulous Feast contains various Stories and pleasant Tales. Maccus puts a Trick upon a Shoe-maker. A Fruiterer is put upon about her Figs. A very clever Cheat of a Priest, in relation to Money. Lewis the Eleventh, King of France, eats some of a Country-Man's Turnips, and gives him 1000 Crowns for an extraordinary large one that he made a Present of to him. A certain Man takes a Louse off of the King's Garment, and the King gives him 40 Crowns for it. The Courtiers are trick'd. One asks for an Office, or some publick Employment. To deny a Kindness presently, is to bestow a Benefit. Maximilian was very merciful to his Debtors. An old Priest Cheats an Usurer. Anthony salutes one upon letting a Fart, saying the Backside was the cleanest Part of the Body.

POLYMYTHUS, GELASINUS, EUTRAPELUS, ASTAEUS, PHILYTHLUS, PHILOGELOS, EUGLOTTUS, LEROCHARES, ADOLESCHES, LEVINUS.

Pol. As it is unfitting for a well order'd City to be without Laws and without a Governor; so neither ought a Feast to be without Orders and a President.

Ge. If I may speak for the rest, I like it very well.

Po. Soho, Sirrah! bring hither the Dice, the Matter shall be determin'd by their Votes; he shall be our President that Jupiter shall favour. O brave! Eutrapelus has it, the fittest Man that could be chosen, if we had every individual Man of us thrown. There is an usual Proverb, that has more Truth in't than good Latin, Novus Rex nova Lex, New Lords new Laws. Therefore, King, make thou Laws.

Eut. That this may be a merry and happy Banquet, in the first Place I command, that no Man tell a Story but what is a ridiculous one. He that shall have no Story to tell, shall pay a Groat, to be spent in Wine; and Stories invented extempore shall be allow'd as legitimate, provided Regard be had to Probability and Decency. If no Body shall want a Story, let those two that tell, the one the pleasantest, and the other the dullest, pay for Wine. Let the Master of the Feast be at no Charge for Wine, but only for the Provisions of the Feast. If any Difference about this Matter shall happen, let Gelasinus be Judge. If you agree to these Conditions, let 'em be ratified. He that won't observe the Orders, let him be gone, but with Liberty to come again to a Collation the next Day.

Ge. We give our Votes for the Passing the Bill our King has brought in. But who must tell the first Story?

Eut. Who should, but the Master of the Feast?

As. But, Mr. King, may I have the liberty to speak three Words?

Eut. What, do you take the Feast to be an unlucky one?

As. The Lawyers deny that to be Law that is not just.

Eut. I grant it.

As. Your Law makes the best and worst Stories equal.

Eut. Where Diversion is the Thing aim'd at, there he deserves as much Commendation who tells the worst, as he that tells the best Story, because it affords as much Merriment; as amongst Songsters none are admir'd but they that sing very well, or they that sing very ill. Do not more laugh to hear the Cuckoo than to hear the Nightingal? In this Case Mediocrity is not Praise-worthy.

As. But pray, why must they be punish'd, that carry off the Prize?

Eut. Lest their too great Felicity should expose them to Envy, if they should carry away the Prize, and go Shot-free too.

As. By Bacchus, Minos himself never made a juster Law.

Phily. Do you make no Order as to the Method of Drinking?

Eut. Having consider'd the Matter, I will follow the Example of Agesilaus King of the Lacedaemonians.

Phily. What did he do?

Eut. Upon a certain Time, he being by Lot chosen Master of the Feast, when the Marshal of the Hall ask'd him, how much Wine he should set before every Man; If, says he, you have a great Deal of Wine, let every Man have as much as he calls for, but if you're scarce of Wine, give every Man equally alike.

Phily. What did the Lacedaemonian mean by that?

Eut. He did this, that it might neither be a drunken Feast, nor a querulous one.

Phily. Why so?

Eut. Because some like to drink plentifully, and some sparingly, and some drink no Wine at all; such an one Romulus is said to have been. For if no Body has any Wine but what he asks for, in the first Place no Body is compell'd to drink, and there is no Want to them that love to drink more plentifully. And so it comes to pass that no Body is melancholy at the Table. And again, if of a less quantity of Wine every one has an equal Portion, they that drink moderately have enough; nor can any Body complain in an Equality, and they that would have drank more largely, are contentedly temperate.

Eut. If you like it, this is the Example I would imitate, for I would have this Feast to be a fabulous, but not a drunken one.

Phily. But what did Romulus drink then?

Eut. The same that Dogs drink.

Phily. Was not that unbeseeming a King?

Eut. No more than it is unseemly for a King to draw the same Air that Dogs do, unless there is this Difference, that a King does not drink the very same Water that a Dog drank, but a Dog draws in the very same Air that the King breath'd out; and on the contrary, the King draws in the very same Air that the Dog breath'd out. It would have been much more to Alexander's, Glory, if he had drank with the Dogs. For there is nothing worse for a King, who has the Care of so many thousand Persons, than Drunkenness. But the Apothegm that Romulus very wittily made Use of, shews plainly that he was no Wine-Drinker. For when a certain Person, taking Notice of his abstaining from Wine, said to him, that Wine would be very cheap, if all Men drank as he did; nay, says he, in my Opinion it would be very dear, if all Men drank it as I drink; for I drink as much as I please.

Ge. I wish our John Botzemus, the Canon of Constance, was here; he'd look like another Romulus to us: For he is as abstemious, as he is reported to have been; but nevertheless, he is a good-humoured, facetious Companion.

Po. But come on, if you can, I won't say drink and blow, which Plautus says is a hard Matter to do, but if you can eat and hear at one and the same Time, which is a very easy Matter, I'll begin the Exercise of telling Stories, and auspiciously. If the Story be not a pleasant one, remember 'tis a Dutch one. I suppose some of you have heard of the Name of Maccus?

Ge. Yes, he has not been dead long.

Po. He coming once to the City of Leiden, and being a Stranger there, had a Mind to make himself taken Notice of for an arch Trick (for that was his Humour); he goes into a Shoemaker's Shop, and salutes him. The Shoemaker, desirous to sell his Ware, asks him what he would buy: Maccus setting his Eyes upon a Pair of Boots that hung up there, the Shoemaker ask'd him if he'd buy any Boots; Maccus assenting to it, he looks out a Pair that would fit him, and when he had found 'em brings 'em out very readily, and, as the usual Way is, draws 'em on. Maccus being very well fitted with a Pair of Boots, How well, says he, would a Pair of double soal'd Shoes agree with these Boots? The Shoemaker asks him, if he would have a Pair of Shoes too. He assents, a Pair is look'd out presently and put on. Maccus commends the Boots, commends the Shoes. The Shoemaker glad in his Mind to hear him talk so, seconds him as he commended 'em, hoping to get a better Price, since the Customer lik'd his Goods so well. And by this Time they were grown a little familiar; then says Maccus, Tell me upon your Word, whether it never was your Hap, when you had fitted a Man with Boots and Shoes, as you have me, to have him go away without paying for 'em? No, never in all my Life, says he. But, says Maccus, if such a Thing should happen to you, what would you do in the Case? Why, quoth the Shoemaker, I'd run after him. Then says Maccus, but are you in Jest or in Earnest? In Earnest, says the other, and I'd do it in Earnest too. Says Maccus, I'll try whether you will or no. See I run for the Shoes, and you're to follow me, and out he runs in a Minute; the Shoemaker follows him immediately as fast as ever he could run, crying out, Stop Thief, stop Thief; this Noise brings the People out of their Houses: Maccus laughing, hinders them from laying Hold of him by this Device, Don't stop me, says he, we are running a Race for a Wager of a Pot of Ale; and so they all stood still and look'd on, thinking the Shoemaker had craftily made that Out-cry that he might have the Opportunity to get before him. At last the Shoemaker, being tir'd with running, gives out, and goes sweating, puffing and blowing Home again: So Maccus got the Prize.

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 Caesar; 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: me terein]. 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.