No More Learning

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, PHÆDRUS.

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.