No More Learning

And yet some Cardinals are not
asham'd to follow this Fashion in their Gowns: And so prevalent a Thing
is Custom, that there is no altering of a Fashion that has once
obtain'd.

_Innk. _ Well, we have had Talk enough about Custom: But tell me now,
whether you think it better for Monks to differ from others in Habit, or
not to differ?

_Con. _ I think it to be more agreeable to Christian Simplicity, not to
judge of any Man by his Habit, if it be but sober and decent.

_Innk. _ Why don't you cast away your Cowls then?

_Con. _ Why did not the Apostles presently eat of all Sorts of Meat?

_Innk. _ I can't tell. Do you tell me that.

_Con. _ Because an invincible Custom hinder'd it: For whatsoever is
deeply rooted in the Minds of Men, and has been confirm'd by long Use,
and is turn'd as it were into Nature, can never be remov'd on a sudden,
without endangering the publick Peace; but must be remov'd by Degrees,
as a Horse's Tail is pluck'd off by single Hairs.

_Innk. _ I could bear well enough with it, if the Monks had all but one
Habit: But who can bear so many different Habits?

_Con. _ Custom has brought in this Evil, which brings in every Thing.
_Benedict_ did not invent a new Habit, but the same that he wore himself
and his Disciples, which was the Habit of a plain, honest Layman:
Neither did _Francis_ invent a new Dress; but it was the Dress of poor
Country-Fellows. Their Successors have by new Additions turned it into
Superstition. Don't we see some old Women at this Day, that keep to the
Dress of their Times, which is more different from the Dress now in
Fashion, than my Dress is from yours?

_Innk. _ We do see it.

_Con. _ Therefore, when you see this Habit, you see only the Reliques of
antient Times.

_Innk. _ Why then, has your Garment no Holiness in it?

_Con. _ None at all.

_Innk. _ There are some of you that make their Boasts that these Dresses
were divinely directed by the holy Virgin Mother.

_Con. _ These Stories are but meer Dreams.

_Innk. _ Some despair of being able to recover from a Fit of Sickness,
unless they be wrapp'd up in a Dominican's Habit: Nay, nor won't be
buried but in a Franciscan's Habit.

_Con. _ They that persuade People of those Things, are either Cheats or
Fools, and they that believe them are superstitious. God will know a
wicked Man as well in a Franciscan's Habit, as in a Soldier's Coat.

_Innk. _ There is not so much Variety in the Feathers of Birds of the
Air, as there is in your Habits.

_Con. _ What then, is it not a very good Thing to imitate Nature? But it
is a better Thing to out-do it.

_Innk. _ I wish you would out-do it in the Variety of your Beaks too.

_Con. _ But, come on. I will be an Advocate for Variety, if you will give
me Leave. Is not a _Spaniard_ dressed after one Fashion, an _Italian_
after another, a _Frenchman_ after another, a _German_ after another, a
_Greek_ after another, a _Turk_ after another, and a _Sarazen_ after
another?

_Innk. _ Yes.

_Con. _ And then in the same Country, what Variety of Garments is there
in Persons of the same Sex, Age and Degree. How different is the Dress
of the _Venetian_ from the _Florentine_, and of both from the _Roman_,
and this only within _Italy_ alone?

_Innk. _ I believe it.

_Con. _ And from hence also came our Variety. _Dominic_ he took his Dress
from the honest Ploughmen in that Part of _Spain_ in which he liv'd; and
_Benedict_ from the Country-Fellows of that Part of _Italy_ in which he
liv'd; and _Francis_ from the Husbandmen of a different Place, and so
for the rest.

_Innk. _ So that for aught I find, you are no holier than we, unless you
live holier.

_Con. _ Nay, we are worse than you, in that; if we live wickedly, we are
a greater Stumbling to the Simple.

_Innk. _ Is there any Hope of us then, who have neither Patron, nor
Habit, nor Rule, nor Profession?

_Con. _ Yes, good Man; see that you hold it fast. Ask your Godfathers
what you promis'd in Baptism, what Profession you then made. Do you want
a human Rule, who have made a Profession of the Gospel Rule? Or do you
want a Man for a Patron, who have Jesus Christ for a Patron? Consider
what you owe to your Wife, to your Children, to your Family, and you
will find you have a greater Load upon you, than if you had professed
the Rule of _Francis_.

_Innk. _ Do you believe that any Inn-Keepers go to Heaven?

_Con. _ Why not?

_Innk. _ There are a great many Things said and done in this House, that
are not according to the Gospel.

_Con. _ What are they?

_Innk. _ One fuddles, another talks bawdy, another brawls, and another
slanders; and last of all, I can't tell whether they keep themselves
honest or not.

_Con. _ You must prevent these Things as much as you can; and if you
cannot hinder them, however, do not for Profit's Sake encourage or draw
on these Wickednesses.

_Innk. _ Sometimes I don't deal very honestly as to my Wine.

_Con. _ Wherein?

_Innk. _ When I find my Guests grow a little too hot, I put more Water
into the Wine.

_Con. _ That's a smaller Fault than selling of Wine made up with
unwholsome Ingredients.

_Innk. _ But tell me truly, how many Days have you been in this Journey?

_Con. _ Almost a Month.

_Innk. _ Who takes Care of you all the While?

_Con. _ Are not they taken Care enough of, that have a Wife, and
Children, and Parents, and Kindred?

_Innk. _ Oftentimes.

_Con. _ You have but one Wife, we have an hundred; you have but one
Father, we have an hundred; you have but one House, we have an hundred;
you have but a few Children, we have an innumerable Company; you have
but a few Kindred, we have an infinite Number.

_Innk. _ How so?

_Con. _ Because the Kindred of the Spirit extends more largely, than the
Kindred of the Flesh: So Christ has promised, and we experience the
Truth of what he has promised.

_Innk. _ In Troth, you have been a good Companion for me; let me die if I
don't like this Discourse better than to drink with our Parson. Do us
the Honour to preach to the People to-morrow, and if ever you happen to
come this Way again, know that here's a Lodging for you.

_Con. _ But what if others should come?

_Innk. _ They shall be welcome, if they be but such as you.

_Con. _ I hope they will be better.

_Innk. _ But among so many bad ones, how shall I know which are good?

_Con. _ I'll tell you in a few Words, but in your Ear.

_Innk. _ Tell me.

_Con. _---------

_Innk. _ I'll remember it, and do it.




_The ABBOT and LEARNED WOMAN. _


The ARGUMENT.

_A certain Abbot paying a Visit to a Lady, finds her
reading_ Greek _and_ Latin _Authors. A Dispute arises,
whence Pleasantness of Life proceeds:_ viz. _Not from
external Enjoyments, but from the Study of Wisdom. An
ignorant Abbot will by no Means have his Monks to be
learned; nor has he himself so much as a single Book in
his Closet. Pious Women in old Times gave their Minds to
the Study of the Scriptures; but Monks that hate
Learning, and give themselves up to Luxury, Idleness, and
Hunting, are provok'd to apply themselves to other Kinds
of Studies, more becoming their Profession. _


ANTRONIUS, MAGDALIA.

_Ant. _ What Sort of Houshold-Stuff do I see?

_Mag. _ Is it not that which is neat?

_Ant. _ How neat it is, I can't tell, but I'm sure, it is not very
becoming, either a Maid or a Matron.

_Mag. _ Why so?

_Ant. _ Because here's Books lying about every where.

_Mag. _ What have you liv'd to this Age, and are both an Abbot and a
Courtier, and never saw any Books in a Lady's Apartment?

_Ant. _ Yes, I have seen Books, but they were _French_; but here I see
_Greek_ and _Latin_ ones.

_Mag. _ Why, are there no other Books but _French_ ones that teach
Wisdom?

_Ant. _ But it becomes Ladies to have something that is diverting, to
pass away their leisure Hours.

_Mag. _ Must none but Ladies be wise, and live pleasantly?

_Ant. _ You very improperly connect being wise, and living pleasantly
together: Women have nothing to do with Wisdom; Pleasure is Ladies
Business.

_Mag. _ Ought not every one to live well?

_Ant. _ I am of Opinion, they ought so to do.

_Mag. _ Well, can any Body live a pleasant Life, that does not live a
good Life.

_Ant. _ Nay, rather, how can any Body live a pleasant Life, that does
live a good Life?

_Mag. _ Why then, do you approve of living illy, if it be but pleasantly?

_Ant. _ I am of the Opinion, that they live a good Life, that live a
pleasant Life.

_Mag. _ Well, but from whence does that Pleasure proceed? From outward
Things, or from the Mind?

_Ant. _ From outward Things.

_Mag. _ O subtle Abbot, but thick-skull'd Philosopher! Pray tell me in
what you suppose a pleasant Life to consist?

_Ant. _ Why, in Sleeping, and Feasting, and Liberty of doing what you
please, in Wealth, and in Honours.

_Mag. _ But suppose to all these Things God should add Wisdom, should you
live pleasantly then?

_Ant. _ What is it that you call by the Name of Wisdom?

_Mag. _ This is Wisdom, to know that a Man is only happy by the Goods of
the Mind. That Wealth, Honour, and Descent, neither make a Man happier
or better.

_Ant. _ If that be Wisdom, fare it well for me.

_Mag. _ Suppose now that I take more Pleasure in reading a good Author,
than you do in Hunting, Drinking, or Gaming; won't you think I live
pleasantly?

_Ant. _ I would not live that Sort of Life.

_Mag. _ I don't enquire what you take most Delight in; but what is it
that ought to be most delighted in?

_Ant. _ I would not have my Monks mind Books much.

_Mag. _ But my Husband approves very well of it. But what Reason have
you, why you would not have your Monks bookish?

_Ant. _ Because I find they are not so obedient; they answer again out of
the Decrees and Decretals of _Peter_ and _Paul. _

_Mag.
_ Why then do you command them the contrary to what _Peter_ and
_Paul_ did?

_Ant. _ I can't tell what they teach; but I can't endure a Monk that
answers again: Nor would I have any of my Monks wiser than I am myself.

_Mag. _ You might prevent that well enough, if you did but lay yourself
out, to get as much Wisdom as you can.

_Ant. _ I han't Leisure.

_Mag. _ Why so?

_Ant. _ Because I han't Time.

_Mag. _ What, not at Leisure to be wise?

_Ant. _ No.

_Mag. _ Pray what hinders you?

_Ant. _ Long Prayers, the Affairs of my Houshold, Hunting, looking after
my Horses, attending at Court.

_Mag. _ Well, and do you think these Things are better than Wisdom?

_Ant. _ Custom has made it so.

_Mag. _ Well, but now answer me this one Thing: Suppose God should grant
you this Power, to be able to turn yourself and your Monks into any Sort
of Animal that you had a Mind: Would you turn them into Hogs, and
yourself into a Horse?

_Ant. _ No, by no Means.

_Mag. _ By doing so you might prevent any of them from being wiser than
yourself?

_Ant. _ It is not much Matter to me what Sort of Animals my Monks are, if
I am but a Man myself.

_Mag. _ Well, and do you look upon him to be a Man that neither has
Wisdom, nor desires to have it?

_Ant. _ I am wise enough for myself.

_Mag. _ And so are Hogs wise enough for themselves.

_Ant. _ You seem to be a Sophistress, you argue so smartly.

_Mag. _ I won't tell you what you seem to me to be. But why does this
Houshold-Stuff displease you?

_Ant. _ Because a Spinning-Wheel is a Woman's Weapon.

_Mag. _ Is it not a Woman's Business to mind the Affairs of her Family,
and to instruct her Children?

_Ant. _ Yes, it is.

_Mag. _ And do you think so weighty an Office can be executed without
Wisdom?

_Ant. _ I believe not.

_Mag. _ This Wisdom I learn from Books.

_Ant. _ I have threescore and two Monks in my Cloister, and you will not
see one Book in my Chamber.

_Mag. _ The Monks are finely look'd after all this While.

_Ant. _ I could dispense with Books; but I can't bear _Latin_ Books.

_Mag. _ Why so?

_Ant. _ Because that Tongue is not fit for a Woman.

_Mag. _ I want to know the Reason.

_Ant. _ Because it contributes nothing towards the Defence of their
Chastity.

_Mag. _ Why then do _French_ Books that are stuff'd with the most
trifling Novels, contribute to Chastity?

_Ant. _ But there is another Reason.

_Mag. _ Let it be what it will, tell me it plainly.

_Ant. _ They are more secure from the Priests, if they don't understand
_Latin_.

_Mag. _ Nay, there's the least Danger from that Quarter according to your
Way of Working; because you take all the Pains you can not to know any
Thing of _Latin_.

_Ant. _ The common People are of my Mind, because it is such a rare
unusual Thing for a Woman to understand _Latin. _

_Mag. _ What do you tell me of the common People for, who are the worst
Examples in the World that can be follow'd. What have I to do with
Custom, that is the Mistress of all evil Practices? We ought to
accustom ourselves to the best Things: And by that Means, that which was
uncustomary would become habitual, and that which was unpleasant would
become pleasant; and that which seemed unbecoming would look graceful.

_Ant. _ I hear you.

_Mag. _ Is it becoming a _German_ Woman to learn to speak _French_.

_Ant. _ Yes it is.

_Mag. _ Why is it?

_Ant. _ Because then she will be able to converse with those that speak
_French_.

_Mag. _ And why then is it unbecoming in me to learn _Latin_, that I may
be able daily to have Conversation with so many eloquent, learned and
wise Authors, and faithful Counsellors?

_Ant. _ Books destroy Women's Brains, who have little enough of
themselves.

_Mag. _ What Quantity of Brains you have left I cannot tell: And as for
myself, let me have never so little, I had rather spend them in Study,
than in Prayers mumbled over without the Heart going along with them, or
sitting whole Nights in quaffing off Bumpers.

_Ant. _ Bookishness makes Folks mad.

_Mag. _ And does not the Rattle of your Pot-Companions, your Banterers,
and Drolls, make you mad?

_Ant. _ No, they pass the Time away.

_Mag. _ How can it be then, that such pleasant Companions should make me
mad?

_Ant. _ That's the common Saying.

_Mag. _ But I by Experience find quite the contrary. How many more do we
see grow mad by hard drinking, unseasonable feasting, and sitting up all
Night tippling, which destroys the Constitution and Senses, and has made
People mad?

_Ant. _ By my Faith, I would not have a learned Wife.

_Mag. _ But I bless myself, that I have gotten a Husband that is not
like yourself. Learning both endears him to me, and me to him.

_Ant. _ Learning costs a great Deal of Pains to get, and after all we
must die.

_Mag. _ Notable Sir, pray tell me, suppose you were to die to-Morrow, had
you rather die a Fool or a wise Man?

_Ant. _ Why, a wise Man, if I could come at it without taking Pains.

_Mag. _ But there is nothing to be attained in this Life without Pains;
and yet, let us get what we will, and what Pains soever we are at to
attain it, we must leave it behind us: Why then should we think much to
be at some Pains for the most precious Thing of all, the Fruit of which
will bear us Company unto another Life.

_Ant. _ I have often heard it said, that a wise Woman is twice a Fool.

_Mag. _ That indeed has been often said; but it was by Fools. A Woman
that is truly wise does not think herself so: But on the contrary, one
that knows nothing, thinks her self to be wise, and that is being twice
a Fool.

_Ant. _ I can't well tell how it is, that as Panniers don't become an Ox,
so neither does Learning become a Woman.

_Mag. _ But, I suppose, you can't deny but Panniers will look better upon
an Ox, than a Mitre upon an Ass or a Sow. What think you of the Virgin
_Mary_?

_Ant. _ Very highly.

_Mag. _ Was not she bookish?

_Ant. _ Yes; but not as to such Books as these.

_Mag. _ What Books did she read?

_Ant. _ The canonical Hours.

_Mag. _ For the Use of whom?

_Ant. _ Of the Order of _Benedictines_.

_Mag. _ Indeed? What did _Paula_ and _Eustochium_ do? Did not they
converse with the holy Scriptures?

_Ant. _ Ay, but this is a rare Thing now.

_Mag. _ So was a blockheaded Abbot in old Time; but now nothing is more
common. In old Times Princes and Emperors were as eminent for Learning
as for their Governments: And after all, it is not so great a Rarity as
you think it. There are both in _Spain_ and _Italy_ not a few Women,
that are able to vye with the Men, and there are the _Morites_ in
_England_, and the _Bilibald-duks_ and _Blaureticks_ in _Germany_. So
that unless you take Care of yourselves it will come to that Pass, that
we shall be Divinity-Professors in the Schools, and preach in the
Churches, and take Possession of your Mitres.

_Ant. _ God forbid.

_Mag. _ Nay it is your Business to forbid it. For if you hold on as you
have begun, even Geese themselves will preach before they'll endure you
a Parcel of dumb Teachers. You see the World is turn'd up-Side down, and
you must either lay aside your Dress, or perform your Part.

_Ant. _ How came I to fall into this Woman's Company? If you'll come to
see me, I'll treat you more pleasantly.

_Mag. _ After what Manner?

_Ant. _ Why, we'll dance, and drink heartily, and hunt and play, and
laugh.

_Mag. _ I can hardly forbear laughing now.




_The EPITHALAMIUM of PETRUS ÆGIDIUS. _


The ARGUMENT.

_The Muses and Graces are brought in, as singing the
Epithalamium of_ Peter Ægidius. Alipius _spies the nine
Muses, and the three Graces coming out of a Grove, which_
Balbinus _can't see: They take their Way to_ Antwerp, _to
the Wedding of_ Ægidius, _to whom they wish all joy, that
nothing of Difference or Uneasiness may ever arise
between 'em. How those Marriages prove that are made, the
Graces not favouring 'em. Congratulatory Verses. _


ALIPIUS, BALBINUS, MUSÆ.

_Al. _ Good God! What strange glorious Sight do I see here?

_Ba. _ Either you see what is not to be seen, or I can't see that which
is to be seen.

_Al. _ Nay, I'll assure you, 'tis a wonderful charming Sight.

_Ba. _ Why do you plague me at this Rate? Tell me, where 'tis you see it.

_Al. _ Upon the left Hand there in the Grove, under the Side of the Hill.

_Ba. _ I see the Hill, but I can see nothing else.

_Al. _ No! don't you see a Company of pretty Maids there?

_Ba.