_Cruenti Iambi haud
congruent
convivio.
Erasmus
_ There is not so much as a Chink.
_So. _ Is there no Body near to hear us?
_Lu. _ Not so much as a Fly, my Dear; Why do you lose Time?
_So. _ Can we escape the Eye of God here?
_Lu. _ No, he sees all Things clearly.
_So. _ And of the Angels?
_Lu. _ No, we cannot escape their Sight.
_So. _ How comes it about then, that Men are not asham'd to do that in
the Sight of God, and before the Face of the holy Angels, that they
would be ashamed to do before Men?
_Lu. _ What Sort of an Alteration is this? Did you come hither to preach
a Sermon? Prithee put on a _Franciscan_'s Hood, and get up into a
Pulpit, and then we'll hear you hold forth, my little bearded Rogue.
_So. _ I should not think much to do that, if I could but reclaim you
from this Kind of Life, that is the most shameful and miserable Life in
the World.
_Lu. _ Why so, good Man? I am born, and I must be kept; every one must
live by his Calling. This is my Business; this is all I have to live on.
_So. _ I wish with all my Heart, my _Lucretia_, that setting aside for a
While that Infatuation of Mind, you would seriously weigh the Matter.
_Lu. _ Keep your Preachment till another Time; now let us enjoy one
another, my _Sophronius_.
_So. _ You do what you do for the Sake of Gain.
_Lu. _ You are much about the Matter.
_So. _ Thou shalt lose nothing by it, do but hearken to me, and I'll pay
you four Times over.
_Lu. _ Well, say what you have a Mind to say.
_So. _ Answer me this Question in the first Place: Are there any Persons
that owe you any ill Will?
_Lu. _ Not one.
_So. _ Is there any Body that you have a Spleen against?
_Lu. _ According as they deserve.
_So. _ And if you could do any Thing that would gratify them, would you
do it?
_Lu. _ I would poison 'em sooner.
_So. _ But then do but consider with yourself; is there any Thing that
you can do that gratifies them more than to let them see you live this
shameful and wretched Life? And what is there thou canst do that would
be more afflicting to them that wish thee well?
_Lu. _ It is my Destiny.
_So. _ Now that which uses to be the greatest Hardship to such as are
transported, or banish'd into the most remote Parts of the World, this
you undergo voluntarily.
_Lu. _ What is that?
_So. _ Hast thou not of thy own Accord renounc'd all thy Affections to
Father, Mother, Brother, Sisters, Aunts, (by Father's and Mother's Side)
and all thy Relations? For thou makest them all asham'd to own thee, and
thyself asham'd to come into their Sight.
_Lu. _ Nay, I have made a very happy Exchange of Affections; for instead
of a few, now I have a great many, of which you are one, and whom I have
always esteem'd as a Brother.
_So. _ Leave off Jesting, and consider the Matter seriously, as it really
is. Believe me, my _Lucretia_, she who has so many Friends, has never a
one, for they that follow thee do it not as a Friend, but as a House of
Office rather. Do but consider, poor Thing, into what a Condition thou
hast brought thyself. _Christ_ lov'd thee so dearly as to redeem thee
with his own Blood, and would have thee be a Partaker with him in an
heavenly Inheritance, and thou makest thyself a common Sewer, into which
all the base, nasty, pocky Fellows resort, and empty their Filthiness.
And if that leprous Infection they call the _French_ Pox han't yet
seiz'd thee, thou wilt not escape it long. And if once thou gettest it,
how miserable wilt thou be, though all things should go favourably on
thy Side? I mean thy Substance and Reputation. Thou wouldest be nothing
but a living Carcase. Thou thoughtest much to obey thy Mother, and now
thou art a mere Slave to a filthy Bawd. You could not endure to hear
your Parents Instructions; and here you are often beaten by drunken
Fellows and mad Whoremasters. It was irksome to thee to do any Work at
Home, to get a Living; but here, how many Quarrels art thou forc'd to
endure, and how late a Nights art thou oblig'd to sit up?
_Lu. _ How came you to be a Preacher?
_So. _ And do but seriously consider, this Flower of thy Beauty that now
brings thee so many Gallants, will soon fade: And then, poor Creature,
what wilt thou do? Thou wilt be piss'd upon by every Body. It may be,
thou thinkest, instead of a Mistress, I'll then be a Bawd. All Whores
can't attain to that, and if thou shouldst, what Employment is more
impious, and more like the Devil himself?
_Lu. _ Why, indeed, my _Sophronius_, almost all you say is very true. But
how came you to be so religious all of a sudden? Thou usedst to be the
greatest Rake in the World, one of 'em. No Body used to come hither more
frequently, nor at more unseasonable Hours than you did. I hear you have
been at _Rome_.
_So. _ I have so.
_Lu. _ Well, but other People use to come from thence worse than they
went: How comes it about, it is otherwise with you?
_So. _ I'll tell you, because I did not go to _Rome_ with the same
Intent, and after the same Manner that others do. Others commonly go to
_Rome_, on purpose to come Home worse, and there they meet with a great
many Opportunities of becoming so. I went along with an honest Man, by
whose Advice, I took along with me a Book instead of a Bottle: The New
Testament with _Erasmus_'s Paraphrase.
_Lu. _ _Erasmus_'s? They say that he's Half a Heretick.
_So. _ Has his Name reached to this Place too?
_Lu. _ There's no Name more noted among us.
_So. _ Did you ever see him?
_Lu. _ No, I never saw him; but I should be glad to see him; I have heard
so many bad Reports of him.
_So. _ It may be you have heard 'em, from them that are bad themselves.
_Lu. _ Nay, from Men of the Gown.
_So. _ Who are they?
_Lu. _ It is not convenient to name Names.
_So. _ Why so?
_Lu. _ Because if you should blab it out, and it should come to their
Ears, I should lose a great many good Cullies.
_So. _ Don't be afraid, I won't speak a Word of it.
_Lu. _ I will whisper then.
_So. _ You foolish Girl, what Need is there to whisper, when there is no
Body but ourselves? What, lest God should hear? Ah, good God! I perceive
you're a religious Whore, that relievest Mendicants.
_Lu. _ I get more by them Beggars than by you rich Men.
_So. _ They rob honest Women, to lavish it away upon naughty Strumpets.
_Lu. _ But go on, as to your Book.
_So. _ So I will, and that's best. In that Book, Paul, that can't lie,
told me, that _neither Whores nor Whore-mongers shall obtain the Kingdom
of Heaven_. When I read this, I began thus to think with myself: It is
but a small Matter that I look for from my Father's Inheritance, and yet
I can renounce all the Whores in the World, rather than be disinherited
by my Father; how much more then ought I to take Care, lest my heavenly
Father should disinherit me? And human Laws do afford some Relief in the
Case of a Father's disinheriting or discarding a Son: But here is no
Provision at all made, in case of God's disinheriting; and upon that, I
immediately ty'd myself up from all Conversation with lewd Women.
_Lu. _ It will be well if you can hold it.
_So. _ It is a good Step towards Continence, to desire to be so. And last
of all, there is one Remedy left, and that is a Wife. When I was at
_Rome_, I empty'd the whole Jakes of my Sins into the Bosom of a
Confessor. And he exhorted me very earnestly to Purity, both of Mind and
Body, and to the reading of the holy Scripture, to frequent Prayer, and
Sobriety of Life, and enjoin'd me no other Penance, but that I should
upon my bended Knees before the high Altar say this Psalm, _Have Mercy
upon me, O God_: And that if I had any Money, I should give one Penny to
some poor Body. And I wondring that for so many whoring Tricks he
enjoin'd me so small a Penance, he answer'd me very pleasantly, My Son,
says he, if you truly repent and change your Life, I don't lay much
Stress upon the Penance; but if thou shalt go on in it, the very Lust
itself will at last punish thee very severely, although the Priest
impose none upon thee. Look upon me, I am blear-ey'd, troubled with the
Palsy, and go stooping: Time was I was such a one as you say you have
been heretofore. And thus I repented.
_Lu. _ Then as far as I perceive, I have lost my _Sophronius_.
_So. _ Nay, you have rather gain'd him, for he was lost before, and was
neither his own Friend nor thine: Now he loves thee in Reality, and
longs for the Salvation of thy Soul.
_Lu. _ What would you have me to do then, my _Sophronius_?
_So. _ To leave off that Course of Life out of Hand: Thou art but a Girl
yet, and that Stain that you have contracted may be wip'd off in Time.
Either marry, and I'll give you something toward a Portion, or go into
some Cloyster, that takes in crakt Maids, or go into some strange Place
and get into some honest Family, I'll lend you my Assistance to any of
these.
_Lu. _ My _Sophronius_, I love thee dearly, look out for one for me, I'll
follow thy Advice.
_So. _ But in the mean Time get away from hence.
_Lu. _ Whoo! what so suddenly!
_So. _ Why not to Day rather than to Morrow, if Delays are dangerous?
_Lu. _ Whither shall I go?
_So. _ Get all your Things together, give 'em to me in the Evening, my
Servant shall carry 'em privately to a faithful Matron: And I'll come a
little after and take you out as if it were to take a little Walk; you
shall live with her some Time upon my Cost till I can provide for you,
and that shall be very quickly.
_Lu. _ Well, my _Sophronius_, I commit myself wholly to thy Management.
_So. _ In Time to come you'll be glad you have done so.
_The POETICAL FEAST. _
The ARGUMENT.
_The Poetical Feast teaches the Studious how to banquet.
That Thriftiness with Jocoseness, Chearfulness without
Obscenity, and learned Stories, ought to season their
Feasts. Iambics are bloody. Poets are Men of no great
Judgment. The three chief Properties of a good Maid
Servant. Fidelity, Deformity, and a high Spirit. A Place
out of the Prologue of_ Terence's Eunuchus _is
illustrated. Also_ Horace's _Epode to_ Canidia. _A Place
out of_ Seneca. Aliud agere, nihil agere, male agere. _A
Place out of the Elenchi of_ Aristotle _is explain'd. A
Theme poetically varied, and in a different Metre.
Sentences are taken from Flowers and Trees in the Garden.
Also some Verses are compos'd in_ Greek.
HILARY, LEONARD, CRATO, GUESTS, MARGARET, CARINUS, EUBULUS, SBRULIUS,
PARTHENIUS, MUS, _Hilary_'s Servant.
Hi. _Levis apparatus, animus est lautissimus. _
Le. _Cænam sinistro es auspicatus omine. _
Hi. _Imo absit omen triste. Sed cur hoc putas? _
Le.
_Cruenti Iambi haud congruent convivio. _
Hi. _I have but slender Fare, but a very liberal Mind. _
Le. _You have begun the Banquet with a bad Omen. _
Hi. _Away with bad Presages. But why do you think so? _
Le. _Bloody Iambics are not fit for a Feast. _
_Cr. _ O brave! I am sure the Muses are amongst us, Verses flow so from
us, when we don't think of 'em.
_Si rotatiles trochaeos mavelis, en, accipe:
Vilis apparatus heic est, animus est lautissimus. _
If you had rather have whirling Trochees, lo, here they are for you:
Here is but mean Provision, but I have a liberal Mind.
Although Iambics in old Time were made for Contentions and Quarrels,
they were afterwards made to serve any Subject whatsoever. O Melons!
Here you have Melons that grew in my own Garden. These are creeping
Lettuces of a very milky Juice, like their Name. What Man in his Wits
would not prefer these Delicacies before Brawn, Lampreys, and Moor-Hens?
_Cr. _ If a Man may be allow'd to speak Truth at a Poetic Banquet, those
you call Lettuces are Beets.
_Hi. _ God forbid.
_Cr. _ It is as I tell you. See the Shape of 'em, and besides where is
the milky Juice? Where are their soft Prickles?
_Hi. _ Truly you make me doubt. Soho, call the Wench. _Margaret_, you
Hag, what did you mean to give us Beets instead of Lettuces?
_Ma. _ I did it on Purpose.
_Hi. _ What do you say, you Witch?
_Ma. _ I had a Mind to try among so many Poets if any could know a
Lettuce from a Beet. For I know you don't tell me truly who 'twas that
discover'd 'em to be Beets.
_Guests. _ _Crato_.
_Ma. _ I thought it was no Poet who did it.
_Hi. _ If ever you serve me so again, I'll call you _Blitea_ instead of
_Margarita_.
_Gu. _ Ha, ha, ha.
_Ma. _ Your calling me will neither make me fatter nor leaner. He calls
me by twenty Names in a Day's Time: When he has a Mind to wheedle me,
then I'm call'd _Galatea, Euterpe, Calliope, Callirhoe, Melissa, Venus,
Minerva_, and what not? When he's out of Humour at any Thing, then
presently I'm _Tisiphone_, _Megaera_, _Alecto_, _Medusa_, _Baucis_, and
whatsoever comes into his Head in his mad Mood.
_Hi. _ Get you gone with your Beets, _Blitea_.
_Ma. _ I wonder what you call'd me for.
_Hi. _ That you may go whence you came.
_Ma. _ 'Tis an old Saying and a true, 'tis an easier Matter to raise the
Devil, than 'tis to lay him.
_Gu. _ Ha, ha, ha: Very well said. As the Matter is, _Hilary_, you stand
in Need of some magic Verse to lay her with.
_Hi. _ I have got one ready.
[Greek: Pheugete, kantharides lukos agrios umme diôkei. ]
Be gone ye Beetles, for the cruel Wolf pursues you.
_Ma. _ What says _Æsop? _
_Cr. _ Have a Care, _Hilary_, she'll hit you a Slap on the Face: This is
your laying her with your _Greek_ Verse. A notable Conjurer indeed!
_Hi. _ _Crato_, What do you think of this Jade? I could have laid ten
great Devils with such a Verse as this.
_Ma. _ I don't care a Straw for your _Greek_ Verses.
_Hi. _ Well then, I must make use of a magical Spell, or, if that won't
do, _Mercury's_ Mace.
_Cr. _ My _Margaret_, you know we Poets are a Sort of Enthusiasts, I
won't say Mad-Men; prithee let me intreat you to let alone this
Contention 'till another Time, and treat us with good Humour at this
Supper for my Sake.
_Ma. _ What does he trouble me with his Verses for? Often when I am to go
to Market he has never a Penny of Money to give me, and yet he's a
humming of Verses.
_Cr. _ Poets are such Sort of Men. But however, prithee do as I say.
_Ma. _ Indeed I will do it for your Sake, because I know you are an
honest Gentleman, that never beat your Brain about such Fooleries. I
wonder how you came to fall into such Company.
_Cr. _ How come you to think so?
_Ma. _ Because you have a full Nose, sparkling Eyes, and a plump Body.
Now do but see how he leers and sneers at me.
_Cr. _ But prithee, Sweet-Heart, keep your Temper for my Sake.
_Ma. _ Well, I will go, and 'tis for your Sake and no Body's else.
_Hi. _ Is she gone?
_Ma. _ Not so far but she can hear you.
_Mus. _ She is in the Kitchen, now, muttering something to herself I
can't tell what.
_Cr. _ I'll assure you your Maid is not dumb.
_Hi. _ They say a good Maid Servant ought especially to have three
Qualifications; to be honest, ugly, and high-spirited, which the Vulgar
call evil. An honest Servant won't waste, an ugly one Sweet-Hearts won't
woo, and one that is high-spirited will defend her Master's Right; for
sometimes there is Occasion for Hands as well as a Tongue. This Maid of
mine has two of these Qualifications, she's as ugly as she's surly; as
to her Honesty I can't tell what to say to that.
_Cr. _ We have heard her Tongue, we were afraid of her Hands upon your
Account.
_Hi. _ Take some of these Pompions: We have done with the Lettuces. For I
know if I should bid her bring any Lettuces, she would bring Thistles.
Here are Melons too, if any Body likes them better. Here are new Figs
too just gather'd, as you may see by the Milk in the Stalks. It is
customary to drink Water after Figs, lest they clog the Stomach. Here is
very cool clear Spring Water that runs out of this Fountain, that is
good to mix with Wine.
_Cr. _ But I can't tell whether I had best to mix Water with my Wine, or
Wine with Water; this Wine seems to me so likely to have been drawn out
of the Muses Fountain.
_Hi. _ Such Wine as this is good for Poets to sharpen their Wits. You
dull Fellows love heavy Liquors.
_Cr. _ I wish I was that happy _Crassus_.
_Hi. _ I had rather be _Codrus_ or _Ennius_. And seeing I happen to have
the Company of so many learned Guests at my Table, I won't let 'em go
away without learning something of 'em. There is a Place in the Prologue
of _Eunuchus_ that puzzles many. For most Copies have it thus:
_Sic existimet, sciat,
Responsum, non dictum esse, quid laesit prior,
Qui bene vertendo, et ects describendo male, &c.
Let him so esteem or know, that it is an Answer, not a common Saying;
because he first did the Injury, who by well translating and ill
describing them, &c. _
In these Words I want a witty Sense, and such as is worthy of _Terence_.
For he did not therefore do the Wrong first, because he translated the
_Greek_ Comedies badly, but because he had found Fault with _Terence's. _
Eu. According to the old Proverb, _He that sings worst let him begin
first. _ When I was at _London_ in _Thomas Linacre's_ House, who is a Man
tho' well skill'd in all Manner of Philosophy, yet he is very ready in
all Criticisms in Grammar, he shew'd me a Book of great Antiquity which
had it thus:
_Sic existimet, stiat,
Responsum, non dictum esse, quale sit prius
Qui bene vertendo, et eas describendo male,
Ex Graecis bonis Latinas fecit non bonas:
Idem Menandri Phasma nunc nuper dedit. _
The Sentence is so to be ordered, that _quale sit_ may shew that an
Example of that which is spoken before is to be subjoin'd. He threatened
that he would again find Fault with something in his Comedies who had
found Fault with him, and he here denies that it ought to seem a
Reproach but an Answer. He that provokes begins the Quarrel; he that
being provok'd, replies, only makes his Defence or Answer. He promises
to give an Example thereof, _quale sit_, being the same with [Greek:
oion] in _Greek_, and _quod genus, veluti_, or _videlicet_, or _puta_ in
Latin. Then afterwards he brings a reproof, wherein the Adverb _prius_
hath Relation to another Adverb, as it were a contrary one, which
follows, _viz. nuper_ even as the Pronoun _qui_ answers to the Word
_idem_. For he altogether explodes the old Comedies of _Lavinius_,
because they were now lost out of the Memory of Men. In those which he
had lately published, he sets down the certain Places. I think that this
is the proper Reading, and the true Sense of the Comedian: If the chief
and ordinary Poets dissent not from it.
_Gu. _ We are all entirely of your Opinion.
_Eu. _ But I again desire to be inform'd by you of one small and very
easy Thing, how this Verse is to be scann'd.
_Ex Græcis bonis Latinas fecit non bonas. _
Scan it upon your Fingers.
_Hi. _ I think that according to the Custom of the Antients _s_ is to be
cut off, so that there be an _Anapaestus_ in the second Place.
_Eu. _ I should agree to it, but that the Ablative Case ends in _is_, and
is long by Nature. Therefore though the Consonant should be taken away,
yet nevertheless a long Vowel remains.
_Hi. _ You say right.
_Cr. _ If any unlearned Person or Stranger should come in, he would
certainly think we were bringing up again among ourselves the
Countrymens Play of holding up our Fingers (_dimicatione digitorum_,
_i. e. _ the Play of Love).
_Le. _ As far as I see, we scan it upon our Fingers to no Purpose. Do you
help us out if you can.
_Eu. _ To see how small a Matter sometimes puzzles Men, though they be
good Scholars! The Preposition _ex_ belongs to the End of the foregoing
Verse.
_Qui bene vertendo, et eas describendo male, ex
Graecis bonis Latinas fecit non bonas. _
Thus there is no Scruple.
_Le. _ It is so, by the Muses. Since we have begun to scan upon our
Fingers, I desire that somebody would put this Verse out of _Andria_
into its Feet.
Sine invidia laudem invenias, et amicos pares.
For I have often tri'd and could do no good on't.
_Le. Sine in_ is an Iambic, _vidia_ an Anapæstus, _Laudem in_ is a
Spondee, _venias_ an Anapæstus, _et ami_ another Anapæstus.
_Ca. _ You have five Feet already, and there are three Syllables yet
behind, the first of which is long; so that thou canst neither make it
an _Iambic_ nor a _Tribrach. _
_Le. _ Indeed you say true. We are aground; who shall help us off?
_Eu. _ No Body can do it better than he that brought us into it. Well,
_Carinus_, if thou canst say any Thing to the Matter, don't conceal it
from your poor sincere Friends.
_Ca. _ If my Memory does not fail me, I think I have read something of
this Nature in _Priscian_, who says, that among the Latin Comedians _v_
Consonant is cut off as well as the Vowel, as oftentimes in this Word
_enimvero;_ so that the part _enime_ makes an Anapæstus.
_Le. _ Then scan it for us.
_Ca. _ I'll do it. _Sine inidi_ is a proseleusmatic Foot, unless you had
rather have it cut off _i_ by Syneresis, as when _Virgil_ puts _aureo_
at the End of an heroick Verse for _auro. _ But if you please let there
be a Tribrach in the first Place, _a lau_ is a Spondee, _d'inveni_ a
Dactyl, _as et a_ a Dactyl, _micos_ a Spondee, _pares_ an Iambic.
_Sb. Carinus_ hath indeed got us out of these Briars. But in the same
Scene there is a Place, which I can't tell whether any Body has taken
Notice of or not.
_Hi. _ Prithee, let us have it.
_Sb. _ There _Simo_ speaks after this Manner.
_So. _ Is there no Body near to hear us?
_Lu. _ Not so much as a Fly, my Dear; Why do you lose Time?
_So. _ Can we escape the Eye of God here?
_Lu. _ No, he sees all Things clearly.
_So. _ And of the Angels?
_Lu. _ No, we cannot escape their Sight.
_So. _ How comes it about then, that Men are not asham'd to do that in
the Sight of God, and before the Face of the holy Angels, that they
would be ashamed to do before Men?
_Lu. _ What Sort of an Alteration is this? Did you come hither to preach
a Sermon? Prithee put on a _Franciscan_'s Hood, and get up into a
Pulpit, and then we'll hear you hold forth, my little bearded Rogue.
_So. _ I should not think much to do that, if I could but reclaim you
from this Kind of Life, that is the most shameful and miserable Life in
the World.
_Lu. _ Why so, good Man? I am born, and I must be kept; every one must
live by his Calling. This is my Business; this is all I have to live on.
_So. _ I wish with all my Heart, my _Lucretia_, that setting aside for a
While that Infatuation of Mind, you would seriously weigh the Matter.
_Lu. _ Keep your Preachment till another Time; now let us enjoy one
another, my _Sophronius_.
_So. _ You do what you do for the Sake of Gain.
_Lu. _ You are much about the Matter.
_So. _ Thou shalt lose nothing by it, do but hearken to me, and I'll pay
you four Times over.
_Lu. _ Well, say what you have a Mind to say.
_So. _ Answer me this Question in the first Place: Are there any Persons
that owe you any ill Will?
_Lu. _ Not one.
_So. _ Is there any Body that you have a Spleen against?
_Lu. _ According as they deserve.
_So. _ And if you could do any Thing that would gratify them, would you
do it?
_Lu. _ I would poison 'em sooner.
_So. _ But then do but consider with yourself; is there any Thing that
you can do that gratifies them more than to let them see you live this
shameful and wretched Life? And what is there thou canst do that would
be more afflicting to them that wish thee well?
_Lu. _ It is my Destiny.
_So. _ Now that which uses to be the greatest Hardship to such as are
transported, or banish'd into the most remote Parts of the World, this
you undergo voluntarily.
_Lu. _ What is that?
_So. _ Hast thou not of thy own Accord renounc'd all thy Affections to
Father, Mother, Brother, Sisters, Aunts, (by Father's and Mother's Side)
and all thy Relations? For thou makest them all asham'd to own thee, and
thyself asham'd to come into their Sight.
_Lu. _ Nay, I have made a very happy Exchange of Affections; for instead
of a few, now I have a great many, of which you are one, and whom I have
always esteem'd as a Brother.
_So. _ Leave off Jesting, and consider the Matter seriously, as it really
is. Believe me, my _Lucretia_, she who has so many Friends, has never a
one, for they that follow thee do it not as a Friend, but as a House of
Office rather. Do but consider, poor Thing, into what a Condition thou
hast brought thyself. _Christ_ lov'd thee so dearly as to redeem thee
with his own Blood, and would have thee be a Partaker with him in an
heavenly Inheritance, and thou makest thyself a common Sewer, into which
all the base, nasty, pocky Fellows resort, and empty their Filthiness.
And if that leprous Infection they call the _French_ Pox han't yet
seiz'd thee, thou wilt not escape it long. And if once thou gettest it,
how miserable wilt thou be, though all things should go favourably on
thy Side? I mean thy Substance and Reputation. Thou wouldest be nothing
but a living Carcase. Thou thoughtest much to obey thy Mother, and now
thou art a mere Slave to a filthy Bawd. You could not endure to hear
your Parents Instructions; and here you are often beaten by drunken
Fellows and mad Whoremasters. It was irksome to thee to do any Work at
Home, to get a Living; but here, how many Quarrels art thou forc'd to
endure, and how late a Nights art thou oblig'd to sit up?
_Lu. _ How came you to be a Preacher?
_So. _ And do but seriously consider, this Flower of thy Beauty that now
brings thee so many Gallants, will soon fade: And then, poor Creature,
what wilt thou do? Thou wilt be piss'd upon by every Body. It may be,
thou thinkest, instead of a Mistress, I'll then be a Bawd. All Whores
can't attain to that, and if thou shouldst, what Employment is more
impious, and more like the Devil himself?
_Lu. _ Why, indeed, my _Sophronius_, almost all you say is very true. But
how came you to be so religious all of a sudden? Thou usedst to be the
greatest Rake in the World, one of 'em. No Body used to come hither more
frequently, nor at more unseasonable Hours than you did. I hear you have
been at _Rome_.
_So. _ I have so.
_Lu. _ Well, but other People use to come from thence worse than they
went: How comes it about, it is otherwise with you?
_So. _ I'll tell you, because I did not go to _Rome_ with the same
Intent, and after the same Manner that others do. Others commonly go to
_Rome_, on purpose to come Home worse, and there they meet with a great
many Opportunities of becoming so. I went along with an honest Man, by
whose Advice, I took along with me a Book instead of a Bottle: The New
Testament with _Erasmus_'s Paraphrase.
_Lu. _ _Erasmus_'s? They say that he's Half a Heretick.
_So. _ Has his Name reached to this Place too?
_Lu. _ There's no Name more noted among us.
_So. _ Did you ever see him?
_Lu. _ No, I never saw him; but I should be glad to see him; I have heard
so many bad Reports of him.
_So. _ It may be you have heard 'em, from them that are bad themselves.
_Lu. _ Nay, from Men of the Gown.
_So. _ Who are they?
_Lu. _ It is not convenient to name Names.
_So. _ Why so?
_Lu. _ Because if you should blab it out, and it should come to their
Ears, I should lose a great many good Cullies.
_So. _ Don't be afraid, I won't speak a Word of it.
_Lu. _ I will whisper then.
_So. _ You foolish Girl, what Need is there to whisper, when there is no
Body but ourselves? What, lest God should hear? Ah, good God! I perceive
you're a religious Whore, that relievest Mendicants.
_Lu. _ I get more by them Beggars than by you rich Men.
_So. _ They rob honest Women, to lavish it away upon naughty Strumpets.
_Lu. _ But go on, as to your Book.
_So. _ So I will, and that's best. In that Book, Paul, that can't lie,
told me, that _neither Whores nor Whore-mongers shall obtain the Kingdom
of Heaven_. When I read this, I began thus to think with myself: It is
but a small Matter that I look for from my Father's Inheritance, and yet
I can renounce all the Whores in the World, rather than be disinherited
by my Father; how much more then ought I to take Care, lest my heavenly
Father should disinherit me? And human Laws do afford some Relief in the
Case of a Father's disinheriting or discarding a Son: But here is no
Provision at all made, in case of God's disinheriting; and upon that, I
immediately ty'd myself up from all Conversation with lewd Women.
_Lu. _ It will be well if you can hold it.
_So. _ It is a good Step towards Continence, to desire to be so. And last
of all, there is one Remedy left, and that is a Wife. When I was at
_Rome_, I empty'd the whole Jakes of my Sins into the Bosom of a
Confessor. And he exhorted me very earnestly to Purity, both of Mind and
Body, and to the reading of the holy Scripture, to frequent Prayer, and
Sobriety of Life, and enjoin'd me no other Penance, but that I should
upon my bended Knees before the high Altar say this Psalm, _Have Mercy
upon me, O God_: And that if I had any Money, I should give one Penny to
some poor Body. And I wondring that for so many whoring Tricks he
enjoin'd me so small a Penance, he answer'd me very pleasantly, My Son,
says he, if you truly repent and change your Life, I don't lay much
Stress upon the Penance; but if thou shalt go on in it, the very Lust
itself will at last punish thee very severely, although the Priest
impose none upon thee. Look upon me, I am blear-ey'd, troubled with the
Palsy, and go stooping: Time was I was such a one as you say you have
been heretofore. And thus I repented.
_Lu. _ Then as far as I perceive, I have lost my _Sophronius_.
_So. _ Nay, you have rather gain'd him, for he was lost before, and was
neither his own Friend nor thine: Now he loves thee in Reality, and
longs for the Salvation of thy Soul.
_Lu. _ What would you have me to do then, my _Sophronius_?
_So. _ To leave off that Course of Life out of Hand: Thou art but a Girl
yet, and that Stain that you have contracted may be wip'd off in Time.
Either marry, and I'll give you something toward a Portion, or go into
some Cloyster, that takes in crakt Maids, or go into some strange Place
and get into some honest Family, I'll lend you my Assistance to any of
these.
_Lu. _ My _Sophronius_, I love thee dearly, look out for one for me, I'll
follow thy Advice.
_So. _ But in the mean Time get away from hence.
_Lu. _ Whoo! what so suddenly!
_So. _ Why not to Day rather than to Morrow, if Delays are dangerous?
_Lu. _ Whither shall I go?
_So. _ Get all your Things together, give 'em to me in the Evening, my
Servant shall carry 'em privately to a faithful Matron: And I'll come a
little after and take you out as if it were to take a little Walk; you
shall live with her some Time upon my Cost till I can provide for you,
and that shall be very quickly.
_Lu. _ Well, my _Sophronius_, I commit myself wholly to thy Management.
_So. _ In Time to come you'll be glad you have done so.
_The POETICAL FEAST. _
The ARGUMENT.
_The Poetical Feast teaches the Studious how to banquet.
That Thriftiness with Jocoseness, Chearfulness without
Obscenity, and learned Stories, ought to season their
Feasts. Iambics are bloody. Poets are Men of no great
Judgment. The three chief Properties of a good Maid
Servant. Fidelity, Deformity, and a high Spirit. A Place
out of the Prologue of_ Terence's Eunuchus _is
illustrated. Also_ Horace's _Epode to_ Canidia. _A Place
out of_ Seneca. Aliud agere, nihil agere, male agere. _A
Place out of the Elenchi of_ Aristotle _is explain'd. A
Theme poetically varied, and in a different Metre.
Sentences are taken from Flowers and Trees in the Garden.
Also some Verses are compos'd in_ Greek.
HILARY, LEONARD, CRATO, GUESTS, MARGARET, CARINUS, EUBULUS, SBRULIUS,
PARTHENIUS, MUS, _Hilary_'s Servant.
Hi. _Levis apparatus, animus est lautissimus. _
Le. _Cænam sinistro es auspicatus omine. _
Hi. _Imo absit omen triste. Sed cur hoc putas? _
Le.
_Cruenti Iambi haud congruent convivio. _
Hi. _I have but slender Fare, but a very liberal Mind. _
Le. _You have begun the Banquet with a bad Omen. _
Hi. _Away with bad Presages. But why do you think so? _
Le. _Bloody Iambics are not fit for a Feast. _
_Cr. _ O brave! I am sure the Muses are amongst us, Verses flow so from
us, when we don't think of 'em.
_Si rotatiles trochaeos mavelis, en, accipe:
Vilis apparatus heic est, animus est lautissimus. _
If you had rather have whirling Trochees, lo, here they are for you:
Here is but mean Provision, but I have a liberal Mind.
Although Iambics in old Time were made for Contentions and Quarrels,
they were afterwards made to serve any Subject whatsoever. O Melons!
Here you have Melons that grew in my own Garden. These are creeping
Lettuces of a very milky Juice, like their Name. What Man in his Wits
would not prefer these Delicacies before Brawn, Lampreys, and Moor-Hens?
_Cr. _ If a Man may be allow'd to speak Truth at a Poetic Banquet, those
you call Lettuces are Beets.
_Hi. _ God forbid.
_Cr. _ It is as I tell you. See the Shape of 'em, and besides where is
the milky Juice? Where are their soft Prickles?
_Hi. _ Truly you make me doubt. Soho, call the Wench. _Margaret_, you
Hag, what did you mean to give us Beets instead of Lettuces?
_Ma. _ I did it on Purpose.
_Hi. _ What do you say, you Witch?
_Ma. _ I had a Mind to try among so many Poets if any could know a
Lettuce from a Beet. For I know you don't tell me truly who 'twas that
discover'd 'em to be Beets.
_Guests. _ _Crato_.
_Ma. _ I thought it was no Poet who did it.
_Hi. _ If ever you serve me so again, I'll call you _Blitea_ instead of
_Margarita_.
_Gu. _ Ha, ha, ha.
_Ma. _ Your calling me will neither make me fatter nor leaner. He calls
me by twenty Names in a Day's Time: When he has a Mind to wheedle me,
then I'm call'd _Galatea, Euterpe, Calliope, Callirhoe, Melissa, Venus,
Minerva_, and what not? When he's out of Humour at any Thing, then
presently I'm _Tisiphone_, _Megaera_, _Alecto_, _Medusa_, _Baucis_, and
whatsoever comes into his Head in his mad Mood.
_Hi. _ Get you gone with your Beets, _Blitea_.
_Ma. _ I wonder what you call'd me for.
_Hi. _ That you may go whence you came.
_Ma. _ 'Tis an old Saying and a true, 'tis an easier Matter to raise the
Devil, than 'tis to lay him.
_Gu. _ Ha, ha, ha: Very well said. As the Matter is, _Hilary_, you stand
in Need of some magic Verse to lay her with.
_Hi. _ I have got one ready.
[Greek: Pheugete, kantharides lukos agrios umme diôkei. ]
Be gone ye Beetles, for the cruel Wolf pursues you.
_Ma. _ What says _Æsop? _
_Cr. _ Have a Care, _Hilary_, she'll hit you a Slap on the Face: This is
your laying her with your _Greek_ Verse. A notable Conjurer indeed!
_Hi. _ _Crato_, What do you think of this Jade? I could have laid ten
great Devils with such a Verse as this.
_Ma. _ I don't care a Straw for your _Greek_ Verses.
_Hi. _ Well then, I must make use of a magical Spell, or, if that won't
do, _Mercury's_ Mace.
_Cr. _ My _Margaret_, you know we Poets are a Sort of Enthusiasts, I
won't say Mad-Men; prithee let me intreat you to let alone this
Contention 'till another Time, and treat us with good Humour at this
Supper for my Sake.
_Ma. _ What does he trouble me with his Verses for? Often when I am to go
to Market he has never a Penny of Money to give me, and yet he's a
humming of Verses.
_Cr. _ Poets are such Sort of Men. But however, prithee do as I say.
_Ma. _ Indeed I will do it for your Sake, because I know you are an
honest Gentleman, that never beat your Brain about such Fooleries. I
wonder how you came to fall into such Company.
_Cr. _ How come you to think so?
_Ma. _ Because you have a full Nose, sparkling Eyes, and a plump Body.
Now do but see how he leers and sneers at me.
_Cr. _ But prithee, Sweet-Heart, keep your Temper for my Sake.
_Ma. _ Well, I will go, and 'tis for your Sake and no Body's else.
_Hi. _ Is she gone?
_Ma. _ Not so far but she can hear you.
_Mus. _ She is in the Kitchen, now, muttering something to herself I
can't tell what.
_Cr. _ I'll assure you your Maid is not dumb.
_Hi. _ They say a good Maid Servant ought especially to have three
Qualifications; to be honest, ugly, and high-spirited, which the Vulgar
call evil. An honest Servant won't waste, an ugly one Sweet-Hearts won't
woo, and one that is high-spirited will defend her Master's Right; for
sometimes there is Occasion for Hands as well as a Tongue. This Maid of
mine has two of these Qualifications, she's as ugly as she's surly; as
to her Honesty I can't tell what to say to that.
_Cr. _ We have heard her Tongue, we were afraid of her Hands upon your
Account.
_Hi. _ Take some of these Pompions: We have done with the Lettuces. For I
know if I should bid her bring any Lettuces, she would bring Thistles.
Here are Melons too, if any Body likes them better. Here are new Figs
too just gather'd, as you may see by the Milk in the Stalks. It is
customary to drink Water after Figs, lest they clog the Stomach. Here is
very cool clear Spring Water that runs out of this Fountain, that is
good to mix with Wine.
_Cr. _ But I can't tell whether I had best to mix Water with my Wine, or
Wine with Water; this Wine seems to me so likely to have been drawn out
of the Muses Fountain.
_Hi. _ Such Wine as this is good for Poets to sharpen their Wits. You
dull Fellows love heavy Liquors.
_Cr. _ I wish I was that happy _Crassus_.
_Hi. _ I had rather be _Codrus_ or _Ennius_. And seeing I happen to have
the Company of so many learned Guests at my Table, I won't let 'em go
away without learning something of 'em. There is a Place in the Prologue
of _Eunuchus_ that puzzles many. For most Copies have it thus:
_Sic existimet, sciat,
Responsum, non dictum esse, quid laesit prior,
Qui bene vertendo, et ects describendo male, &c.
Let him so esteem or know, that it is an Answer, not a common Saying;
because he first did the Injury, who by well translating and ill
describing them, &c. _
In these Words I want a witty Sense, and such as is worthy of _Terence_.
For he did not therefore do the Wrong first, because he translated the
_Greek_ Comedies badly, but because he had found Fault with _Terence's. _
Eu. According to the old Proverb, _He that sings worst let him begin
first. _ When I was at _London_ in _Thomas Linacre's_ House, who is a Man
tho' well skill'd in all Manner of Philosophy, yet he is very ready in
all Criticisms in Grammar, he shew'd me a Book of great Antiquity which
had it thus:
_Sic existimet, stiat,
Responsum, non dictum esse, quale sit prius
Qui bene vertendo, et eas describendo male,
Ex Graecis bonis Latinas fecit non bonas:
Idem Menandri Phasma nunc nuper dedit. _
The Sentence is so to be ordered, that _quale sit_ may shew that an
Example of that which is spoken before is to be subjoin'd. He threatened
that he would again find Fault with something in his Comedies who had
found Fault with him, and he here denies that it ought to seem a
Reproach but an Answer. He that provokes begins the Quarrel; he that
being provok'd, replies, only makes his Defence or Answer. He promises
to give an Example thereof, _quale sit_, being the same with [Greek:
oion] in _Greek_, and _quod genus, veluti_, or _videlicet_, or _puta_ in
Latin. Then afterwards he brings a reproof, wherein the Adverb _prius_
hath Relation to another Adverb, as it were a contrary one, which
follows, _viz. nuper_ even as the Pronoun _qui_ answers to the Word
_idem_. For he altogether explodes the old Comedies of _Lavinius_,
because they were now lost out of the Memory of Men. In those which he
had lately published, he sets down the certain Places. I think that this
is the proper Reading, and the true Sense of the Comedian: If the chief
and ordinary Poets dissent not from it.
_Gu. _ We are all entirely of your Opinion.
_Eu. _ But I again desire to be inform'd by you of one small and very
easy Thing, how this Verse is to be scann'd.
_Ex Græcis bonis Latinas fecit non bonas. _
Scan it upon your Fingers.
_Hi. _ I think that according to the Custom of the Antients _s_ is to be
cut off, so that there be an _Anapaestus_ in the second Place.
_Eu. _ I should agree to it, but that the Ablative Case ends in _is_, and
is long by Nature. Therefore though the Consonant should be taken away,
yet nevertheless a long Vowel remains.
_Hi. _ You say right.
_Cr. _ If any unlearned Person or Stranger should come in, he would
certainly think we were bringing up again among ourselves the
Countrymens Play of holding up our Fingers (_dimicatione digitorum_,
_i. e. _ the Play of Love).
_Le. _ As far as I see, we scan it upon our Fingers to no Purpose. Do you
help us out if you can.
_Eu. _ To see how small a Matter sometimes puzzles Men, though they be
good Scholars! The Preposition _ex_ belongs to the End of the foregoing
Verse.
_Qui bene vertendo, et eas describendo male, ex
Graecis bonis Latinas fecit non bonas. _
Thus there is no Scruple.
_Le. _ It is so, by the Muses. Since we have begun to scan upon our
Fingers, I desire that somebody would put this Verse out of _Andria_
into its Feet.
Sine invidia laudem invenias, et amicos pares.
For I have often tri'd and could do no good on't.
_Le. Sine in_ is an Iambic, _vidia_ an Anapæstus, _Laudem in_ is a
Spondee, _venias_ an Anapæstus, _et ami_ another Anapæstus.
_Ca. _ You have five Feet already, and there are three Syllables yet
behind, the first of which is long; so that thou canst neither make it
an _Iambic_ nor a _Tribrach. _
_Le. _ Indeed you say true. We are aground; who shall help us off?
_Eu. _ No Body can do it better than he that brought us into it. Well,
_Carinus_, if thou canst say any Thing to the Matter, don't conceal it
from your poor sincere Friends.
_Ca. _ If my Memory does not fail me, I think I have read something of
this Nature in _Priscian_, who says, that among the Latin Comedians _v_
Consonant is cut off as well as the Vowel, as oftentimes in this Word
_enimvero;_ so that the part _enime_ makes an Anapæstus.
_Le. _ Then scan it for us.
_Ca. _ I'll do it. _Sine inidi_ is a proseleusmatic Foot, unless you had
rather have it cut off _i_ by Syneresis, as when _Virgil_ puts _aureo_
at the End of an heroick Verse for _auro. _ But if you please let there
be a Tribrach in the first Place, _a lau_ is a Spondee, _d'inveni_ a
Dactyl, _as et a_ a Dactyl, _micos_ a Spondee, _pares_ an Iambic.
_Sb. Carinus_ hath indeed got us out of these Briars. But in the same
Scene there is a Place, which I can't tell whether any Body has taken
Notice of or not.
_Hi. _ Prithee, let us have it.
_Sb. _ There _Simo_ speaks after this Manner.
