No More Learning

_Eu. _ Perhaps against the _Turks_.

_Pa. _ Nay, more holy than that, as they indeed gave out at that Time.

_Eu. _ What was that?

_Pa. _ Pope _Julius_ the Second made War upon the _French_. And the
Experience of many Things that it gives a Man, made me fancy a Soldier's
Life.

_Eu. _ Of many Things indeed; but wicked ones.

_Pa. _ So I found afterwards: But however, I liv'd harder here, than I
did in the Monasteries.

_Eu. _ And what did you do after this?

_Pa. _ Now my Mind began to be wavering, whether I should return to my
Business of a Merchant, that I had laid aside, or press forward in
Pursuit of Religion that fled before me. In the mean Time it came into
my Mind, that I might follow both together.

_Eu. _ What, be a Merchant and a Monk both together?

_Pa. _ Why not? There is nothing more religious than the Orders of
Mendicants, and there is nothing more like to Trading. They fly over
Sea and Land, they see many Things, they hear many Things, they enter
into the Houses of common People, Noblemen, and Kings.

_Eu. _ Ay, but they don't Trade for Gain.

_Pa. _ Very often, with better Success than we do.

_Eu. _ Which of these Orders did you make Choice of?

_Pa. _ I try'd them all.

_Eu. _ Did none of them please you?

_Pa. _ I lik'd them all well enough, if I might but presently have gone
to Trading; but I consider'd in my Mind, I must labour a long Time in
the Choir, before I could be qualified for the Trust: So now I began to
think how I might get to be made an Abbot: But, I thought with myself,
_Kissing goes by Favour_, and it will be a tedious Pursuit: So having
spent eight Years after this Manner, hearing of my Father's Death, I
return'd Home, and by my Mother's Advice, I marry'd, and betook myself
to my old Business of Traffick.

_Gl. _ Prithee tell me, when you chang'd your Habit so often, and were
transform'd, as it were, into another Sort of Creature, how could you
behave yourself with a proper Decorum?

_Pa. _ Why not, as well as those who in the same Comedy act several
Parts?

_Eu. _ Tell us now in good earnest, you that have try'd every Sort of
Life, which you most approve of.

_Pa. So many Men, so many Minds:_ I like none better than this which I
follow.

_Eu. _ But there are a great many Inconveniences attend it.

_Pa. _ There are so. But seeing there is no State of Life, that is
entirely free from Incommodities, this being my Lot, I make the best
on't: But now here is _Eusebius_ still, I hope he will not think much to
acquaint his Friends with some Scenes of his Course of Life.

_Eu. _ Nay, with the whole Play of it, if you please to hear it, for it
does not consist of many Acts.

_Gl. _ It will be a very great Favour.

_Eu. _ When I return'd to my own Country, I took a Year to deliberate
what Way of Living to chuse, and examin'd myself, to what Employment my
Inclination led me, and I was fit for. In the mean Time a Prebendary was
offered me, as they call it; it was a good fat Benefice, and I accepted
it.

_Gl. _ That Sort of Life has no good Reputation among People.

_Eu. _ As human Affairs go, I thought it was a Thing well worth the
accepting. Do you look upon it a small Happiness to have so many
Advantages to fall into a Man's Mouth, as tho' they dropt out of Heaven;
handsome Houses well furnish'd, a large Revenue, an honourable Society,
and a Church at Hand, to serve God in, when you have a Mind to it?

_Pa. _ I was scandaliz'd at the Luxury of the Persons, and the Infamy of
their Concubines; and because a great many of that Sort of Men have an
Aversion to Learning.

_Eu. _ I don't mind what others do, but what I ought to do myself, and
associate myself with the better Sort, if I cannot make them that are
bad better.

_Po. _ And is that the State of Life you have always liv'd in?

_Eu. _ Always, except four Years, that I liv'd at _Padua_.

_Po. _ What did you do there?

_Eu. _ These Years I divided in this Manner; I studied Physick a Year and
a half, and the rest of the Time Divinity.

_Po. _ Why so?

_Eu. _ That I might the better manage both Soul and Body, and also
sometimes be helpful by Way of Advice to my Friends. I preached
sometimes according to my Talent. And under these Circumstances, I have
led a very quiet Life, being content with a single Benefice, not being
ambitiously desirous of any more, and should have refus'd it, if it had
been offered me.

_Pa. _ I wish we could learn how the rest of our old Companions have
liv'd, that were our Familiars.

_Eu. _ I can tell you somewhat of some of them: but I see we are not far
from the City; therefore, if you are willing, we will all take up the
same Inn, and there we will talk over the rest at Leisure.

_Hugh. [a Waggoner. ]_ You blinking Fellow, where did you take up this
Rubbish?

_Harry the Waggoner. _ Where are you carrying that Harlottry, you Pimp?

_Hugh. _ You ought to throw these frigid old Fellows somewhere into a Bed
of Nettles, to make them grow warm again.

_Harry. _ Do you see that you shoot that Herd of yours somewhere into a
Pond to cool them, to lay their Concupiscence, for they are too hot.

_Hugh. _ I am not us'd to overturn my Passengers.

_Harry. _ No? but I saw you a little While ago, overturn Half a Dozen
Carthusians into the Mire, so that tho' they went in white, they came
out black, and you stood grinning at it, as if you had done some noble
Exploit.

_Hugh. _ I was in the Right of it, they were all asleep, and added a dead
Weight to my Waggon.

_Harry. _ But these old Gentlemen, by talking merrily all the Way, have
made my Waggon go light. I never had a better Fare.

_Hugh. _ But you don't use to like such Passengers.

_Harry. _ But these are good old Men.

_Hugh. _ How do you know that?

_Harry. _ Because they made me drink humming Ale, three Times by the Way.

_Hugh. _ Ha, ha, ha, then they are good to you.




_The FRANCISCANS,_ [Greek: Ptôchoplousioi], _or RICH BEGGARS. _


The ARGUMENT.

_The_ Franciscans, _or rich poor Persons, are not
admitted into the House of a Country Parson_. Pandocheus
_jokes wittily upon them. The Habit is not to be
accounted odious. The Life and Death of the_ Franciscans.
_Of the foolish Pomp of Habits. The Habits of Monks are
not in themselves evil. What Sort of Persons Monks ought
to be. The Use of Garments is for Necessity and Decency.
What Decency is. Whence arose the Variety of Habits and
Garments among the Monks. That there was in old Time no
Superstition in the Habits. _


CONRADE, _a Bernardine_ Monk, _a_ Parson, _an_ Inn-Keeper _and his_
Wife.

_Con. _ Hospitality becomes a Pastor.

_Pars. _ But I am a Pastor of Sheep; I don't love Wolves.

_Con. _ But perhaps you don't hate a Wench so much. But what Harm have we
done you, that you have such an Aversion to us, that you won't so much
as admit us under your Roof? We won't put you to the Charge of a Supper.

_Pars. _ I'll tell ye, because if you spy but a Hen or a Chicken in a
Body's House, I should be sure to hear of it to-Morrow in the Pulpit.
This is the Gratitude you shew for your being entertain'd.

_Con. _ We are not all such Blabs.

_Pars. _ Well, be what you will, I'd scarce put Confidence in St.
_Peter_ himself, if he came to me in such a Habit.

_Con. _ If that be your Resolution, at least tell us where is an Inn.

_Pars. _ There's a publick Inn here in the Town.

_Con. _ What Sign has it?

_Pars. _ Upon a Board that hangs up, you will see a Dog thrusting his
Head into a Porridge-Pot: This is acted to the Life in the Kitchen; and
a Wolf sits at the Bar.

_Con. _ That's an unlucky Sign.

_Pars. _ You may e'en make your best on't.

_Ber. _ What Sort of a Pastor is this? we might be starv'd for him.

_Con. _ If he feeds his Sheep no better than he feeds us, they must needs
be very lean.

_Ber. _ In a difficult Case, we had Need of good Counsel: What shall we
do?

_Con. _ We must set a good Face on't.

_Ber. _ There's little to be gotten by Modesty, in a Case of Necessity.

_Con. _ Very right, St. _Francis_ will be with us.

_Ber. _ Let's try our Fortune then.

_Con. _ We won't stay for our Host's Answer at the Door, but we'll rush
directly into the Stove, and we won't easily be gotten out again.

_Ber. _ O impudent Trick!

_Con. _ This is better than to lie abroad all Night, and be frozen to
Death. In the mean Time, put Bashfulness in your Wallet to Day, and take
it out again to-Morrow.

_Ber. _ Indeed, the Matter requires it.

_Innk. _ What Sort of Animals do I see here?

_Con. _ We are the Servants of God, and the Sons of St. _Francis_, good
Man.

_Innk. _ I don't know what Delight God may take in such Servants; but I
would not have many of them in my House.

_Con. _ Why so?

_Innk. _ Because at Eating and Drinking, you are more than Men; but you
have neither Hands nor Feet to work. Ha, ha! You Sons of St. _Francis_,
you use to tell us in the Pulpit, that he was a pure Batchelor, and has
he got so many Sons?

_Con. _ We are the Children of the Spirit, not of the Flesh.

_Innk. _ A very unhappy Father, for your Mind is the worst Part about
you; but your Bodies are too lusty, and as to that Part of you, it is
better with you, than 'tis for our Interest, who have Wives and
Daughters.

_Con. _ Perhaps you suspect that we are some of those that degenerate
from the Institutions of our Founder; we are strict Observers of them.

_Innk.
_ And I'll observe you too, that you don't do me any Damage, for I
have a mortal Aversion for this Sort of Cattle.

_Con. _ Why so, I pray?

_Innk. _ Because you carry Teeth in your Head, but no Money in your
Pocket; and such Sort of Guests are very unwelcome to me.

_Con. _ But we take Pains for you.

_Innk. _ Shall I shew you after what Manner you labour for me?

_Con. _ Do, shew us.

_Innk. _ Look upon that Picture there, just by you, on your left Hand,
there you'll see a Wolf a Preaching, and behind him a Goose, thrusting
her Head out of a Cowl: There again, you'll see a Wolf absolving one at
Confession; but a Piece of a Sheep, hid under his Gown, hangs out. There
you see an Ape in a _Franciscan_'s Habit, he holds forth a Cross in one
Hand, and has the other Hand in the sick Man's Purse.

_Con. _ We don't deny, but sometimes Wolves, Foxes and Apes are cloathed
with this Habit, nay we confess oftentimes that Swine, Dogs, Horses,
Lions and Basilisks are conceal'd under it; but then the same Garment
covers many honest Men. As a Garment makes no Body better, so it makes
no Body worse. It is unjust to judge of a Man by his Cloaths; for if so,
the Garment that you wear sometimes were to be accounted detestable,
because it covers many Thieves, Murderers, Conjurers, and Whoremasters.

_Innk. _ Well, I'll dispense with your Habit, if you'll but pay your
Reckonings.

_Con. _ We'll pray to God for you.

_Innk. _ And I'll pray to God for you, and there's one for t'other.

_Con. _ But there are some Persons that you must not take Money of.

_Innk. _ How comes it that you make a Conscience of touching any?

_Con. _ Because it does not consist with our Profession.

_Innk. _ Nor does it stand with my Profession to entertain Guests for
nothing.

_Con. _ But we are tied up by a Rule not to touch Money.

_Innk. _ And my Rule commands me quite the contrary.

_Con. _ What Rule is yours?

_Innk. _ Read those Verses:

_Guests at this Table, when you've eat while you're able.
Rise not hence before you have first paid your Score. _

_Con. _ We'll be no Charge to you.

_Innk. _ But they that are no Charge to me are no Profit to me neither.

_Con. _ If you do us any good Office here, God will make it up to you
sufficiently.

_Innk. _ But these Words won't keep my Family.

_Con. _ We'll hide ourselves in some Corner of the Stove, and won't be
troublesome to any Body.

_Innk. _ My Stove won't hold such Company.

_Con. _ What, will you thrust us out of Doors then? It may be we shall be
devour'd by Wolves to Night.

_Innk. _ Neither Wolves nor Dogs will prey upon their own Kind.

_Con. _ If you do so you will be more cruel than the _Turks_. Let us be
what we will, we are Men.

_Innk. _ I have lost my Hearing.

_Con. _ You indulge your Corps, and lye naked in a warm Bed behind the
Stove, and will you thrust us out of Doors to be perish'd with Cold, if
the Wolves should not devour us?

_Innk. _ _Adam_ liv'd so in Paradise.

_Con. _ He did so, but then he was innocent.

_Innk. _ And so am I innocent.

_Con. _ Perhaps so, leaving out the first Syllable. But take Care, if you
thrust us out of your Paradise, lest God should not receive you into
his.

_Innk. _ Good Words, I beseech you.

_Wife. _ Prithee, my Dear, make some Amends for all your ill Deeds by
this small Kindness, let them stay in our House to Night: They are good
Men, and thou'lt thrive the better for't.

_Innk. _ Here's a Reconciler for you. I'm afraid you're agreed upon the
Matter. I don't very well like to hear this good Character from a Woman;
Good Men!

_Wife. _ Phoo, there's nothing in it. But think with your self how often
you have offended God with Dicing, Drinking, Brawling, Quarrelling. At
least, make an Atonement for your Sins by this Act of Charity, and don't
thrust these Men out of Doors, whom you would wish to be with you when
you are upon your Death-Bed. You oftentimes harbour Rattles and
Buffoons, and will you thrust these Men out of Doors?

_Innk. _ What does this Petticoat-Preacher do here? Get you in, and mind
your Kitchen.

_Wife. _ Well, so I will.

_Bert. _ The Man softens methinks, and he is taking his Shirt, I hope all
will be well by and by.

_Con. _ And the Servants are laying the Cloth. It is happy for us that no
Guests come, for we should have been sent packing if they had.

_Bert. _ It fell out very happily that we brought a Flaggon of Wine from
the last Town we were at, and a roasted Leg of Lamb, or else, for what
I see here, he would not have given us so much as a Mouthful of Hay.

_Con. _ Now the Servants are set down, let's take Part of the Table with
them, but so that we don't incommode any Body.

_Innk. _ I believe I may put it to your Score, that I have not a Guest to
Day, nor any besides my own Family, and you good-for-nothing ones.

_Con. _ Well, put it up to our Score, if it has not happened to you
often.

_Innk. _ Oftner than I would have it so.

_Con. _ Well, don't be uneasy; Christ lives, and he'll never forsake his
Servants.

_Innk. _ I have heard you are call'd evangelical Men; but the Gospel
forbids carrying about Satchels and Bread, but I see you have great
Sleeves for Wallets, and you don't only carry Bread, but Wine too, and
Flesh also, and that of the best Sort.

_Con. _ Take Part with us, if you please.

_Innk. _ My Wine is Hog-Wash to it.

_Con. _ Eat some of the Flesh, there is more than enough for us.

_Innk. _ O happy Beggars! My Wife has dress'd nothing to Day, but
Coleworts and a little rusty Bacon.

_Con. _ If you please, let us join our Stocks; it is all one to us what
we eat.

_Innk. _ Then why don't you carry with you Coleworts and dead Wine?

_Con. _ Because the People where we din'd to Day would needs force this
upon us.

_Innk. _ Did your Dinner cost you nothing?

_Con. _ No. Nay they thanked us, and when we came away gave us these
Things to carry along with us.

_Innk. _ From whence did you come?

_Con. _ From _Basil. _

_Innk. _ Whoo! what so far?

_Con. _ Yes.

_Innk. _ What Sort of Fellows are you that ramble about thus without
Horses, Money, Servants, Arms, or Provisions?

_Con. _ You see in us some Footsteps of the evangelical Life.

_Innk. _ It seems to me to be the Life of Vagabonds, that stroll about
with Budgets.

_Con. _ Such Vagabonds the Apostles were, and such was the Lord Jesus
himself.

_Innk. _ Can you tell Fortunes?

_Con. _ Nothing less.

_Innk. _ How do you live then?

_Con. _ By him, who hath promised.

_Innk. _ Who is he?

_Con. _ He that said, _Take no Care, but all Things shall be added unto
you_.

_Innk. _ He did so promise, but it was _to them that seek the Kingdom of
God. _

_Con. _ That we do with all our Might.

_Innk. _ The Apostles were famous for Miracles; they heal'd the Sick, so
that it is no Wonder how they liv'd every where, but you can do no such
Thing.

_Con. _ We could, if we were like the Apostles, and if the Matter
requir'd a Miracle. But Miracles were only given for a Time for the
Conviction of the Unbelieving; there is no Need of any Thing now, but a
religious Life. And it is oftentimes a greater Happiness to be sick than
to be well, and more happy to die than to live.

_Innk. _ What do you do then?

_Con. _ That we can; every Man according to the Talent that God has given
him. We comfort, we exhort, we warn, we reprove, and when Opportunity
offers, sometimes we preach, if we any where find Pastors that are dumb:
And if we find no Opportunity of doing Good, we take Care to do no Body
any Harm, either by our Manners or our Words.

_Innk. _ I wish you would preach for us to Morrow, for it is a Holy-Day.

_Con. _ For what Saint?

_Innk. _ To St. _Antony. _

_Con. _ He was indeed a good Man. But how came he to have a Holiday?

_Innk. _ I'll tell you. This Town abounds with Swine-Herds, by Reason of
a large Wood hard by that produces Plenty of Acorns; and the People have
an Opinion that St. _Antony_ takes Charge of the Hogs, and therefore
they worship him, for Fear he should grow angry, if they neglect him.

_Con. _ I wish they would worship him as they ought to do.

_Innk. _ How's that?

_Con. _ Whosoever imitates the Saints in their Lives, worships as he
ought to do.

_Innk. _ To-morrow the Town will ring again with Drinking and Dancing,
Playing, Scolding and Boxing.

_Con. _ After this Manner the Heathens once worshipped their _Bacchus_.
But I wonder, if this is their Way of worshipping, that St. _Antony_ is
not enraged at this Sort of Men that are more stupid than Hogs
themselves.