_ If you won't believe me, see your own Face in this
Fountain
here.
Erasmus
_Pa. _ She flies for Fools.
_Ma. _ Did you see a pair of Pigeons on your right Hand?
_Pa. _ Nothing of all this. But have for some Years been satisfy'd of the
Honesty of your Father and Mother; and in the first Place, that's no bad
Sign. Nor am I ignorant how modestly and religiously you have been
brought up by them, and it is a greater Advantage to be honestly
educated, than honourably born. And then there's another good
Circumstance besides, that as my Parents are none of the worst, so yours
and mine have been very intimate for many Years, and you and I have
known one another from our very Childhood, as they use to say; and
besides all this, our Humours agree very well together. Our Age,
Fortunes, Quality, and Parentage are pretty equal. And last of all, that
which is the chief Thing in Friendship, your Temper seems to agree very
well with mine. There are some Things that may be very good in
themselves that may not agree with others. How acceptable my Temper may
be to yours, I don't know. These are the Auguries, my Dear, that make me
prognosticate that a Marriage between you and me would be happy,
lasting, comfortable and pleasant, unless you shall prevent it by a
Denial.
_Ma. _ What would you have me say?
_Pa. _ I will sing _I am thine_ first, and you shall sing _I am thine_
after me.
_Ma. _ That indeed is but a short Song, but it has a long Chorus.
_Pa. _ What signifies it how long it is, so it be a merry one.
_Ma. _ I have that Respect for you, I would not have you do what you
should repent of when done.
_Pa. _ Leave off teasing me.
_Ma. _ Perhaps I shall not appear so amiable in your Eye, when Age or
Sickness have spoil'd my Beauty.
_Pa. _ No more, my Dear, shall I myself be always so young and lusty. I
don't only look at that blooming, lovely Body of yours, but it is your
Guest within it I am most in Love with.
_Ma. _ What Guest do you mean?
_Pa. _ This Soul of yours, whose Beauty will grow as Years increase.
_Ma. _ In Truth you have a very penetrating Sight, if you can see that
through so many Coverings.
_Pa. _ It is with the Eyes of my Mind that I see your Mind, and then
besides we shall be ever and anon renewing our Age by our Children.
_Ma. _ But then I shall lose my Maidenhead.
_Pa. _ Right enough; but prithee tell me, if you had a fine Orchard,
would you rather chuse never to have nothing but Blossoms on the Trees;
or would you rather, that the Blossoms should fall off, and see the
Boughs laden with ripe Apples?
_Ma. _ Oh, how cunningly you can argue!
_Pa. _ Answer me but this one Question, which is the finest Sight, a Vine
lying along upon the Ground and rotting, or twining round a Stake or an
Elm-Tree, loaden with ripe Grapes of a curious purple Colour?
_Ma. _ And pray do you answer me this Question; which is the most
pleasant Sight, a Rose fresh and fair upon the Tree, or one gathered and
withering in the Hand?
_Pa. _ I look upon that the happier Rose that dies in a Man's Hand; there
delighting the Sight and Smell, than that which withers away upon the
Bush, for it would die there, if it were let alone. As that Wine has the
most Honour done it; that is drank before it grows dead: Though this is
to be said, that the Flower of a Maid does not presently fade, as soon
as she is married: Nay, I have seen a great many, that before Marriage
look'd pale and languid, and just as if they were dropping into the
Ground: but having been in the Embraces of a Husband, they have
brightened up, just as if they just then began to bloom.
_Ma. _ But for all that, a Maidenhead is accounted a fine Thing.
_Pa. _ A young Virgin is indeed a pretty Thing: But what's more monstrous
than an old Maid? If your Mother had not shed that Blossom, we should
never have had this fine Flower, yourself. And if we don't make a barren
Match, as I hope we shan't, there will be never a Maid the less for us.
_Ma. _ But they say Chastity is very well pleasing to God.
_Pa. _ And for that Reason I would marry a chaste Maid, that I may live
chastly with her. The Union of Minds will be more than that of Bodies.
We'll get Subjects for the King, and Servants for Christ, and where will
the Unchastity of this Matrimony be? And who can tell but we may live
together like _Joseph_ and _Mary_? And in the mean Time, we'll learn to
be Virgins, we don't arrive at Perfection all at once.
_Ma. _ What do you talk of? Is Virginity to be violated, that it may be
learned?
_Pa. _ Why not? As by little and little drinking Wine sparingly, we learn
to be abstemious. Which do you think is the most temperate Person, he
that is sitting at a Table full of Delicacies, and abstains from them,
or he who is out of the Reach of those Things that incite Intemperance?
_Ma. _ I think he is the most temperate Person, that the greatest Plenty
can't debauch.
_Pa. _ Which is the most laudable for Chastity, he that castrates
himself, or he that having his Members entire, forbears Venery?
_Ma. _ The latter, in my Opinion: I should call the former a Madman.
_Pa. _ Don't they in a Manner castrate themselves, that abjure
Matrimony?
_Ma. _ I think they do.
_Pa. _ Then it is no Virtue to forbear Coition.
_Ma. _ Is it not?
_Pa. _ I prove it thus; if it were of itself a Virtue not to copulate, it
were a Sin to do it: so that it follows of Consequence, it is a Fault
not to copulate, and a Virtue to do it.
_Ma. _ When does this Case happen?
_Pa. _ As often as the Husband requires his due of his Wife; especially
if he would embrace her for the Sake of Procreation.
_Ma. _ But if it be out of Wantonness? Is it not lawful to deny him?
_Pa. _ He may be admonish'd or dissuaded by soft Language to forbear; but
if he insists upon it, he ought not to be refus'd. But I hear very few
Husbands complain of their Wives upon this Account.
_Ma. _ But Liberty is a very sweet Thing.
_Pa. _ Virginity is rather a greater Burthen. I will be your King, and
you shall be my Queen, and we'll govern the Family according to our
Pleasure: And do you think that a Bondage?
_Ma. _ Marriage is called a Halter.
_Pa. _ They deserve a Halter that call it so. Pray tell me, is not your
Soul and Body bound together?
_Ma. _ Yes, I think they are.
_Pa. _ Just like a Bird in a Cage; and yet, ask it if it would be freed
from it, I believe it will say, no: And what's the Reason of that?
Because it is bound by its own Consent.
_Ma. _ But we have neither of us got much of Portion.
_Pa. _ We are the safer for that, you shall add to it at Home by good
Housewifery, and that is not without good Reason said to be a great
Revenue, and I'll increase it abroad by my Industry.
_Ma. _ But Children bring a great many Cares along with them.
_Pa. _ Have done with Scruples.
_Ma. _ Would you have me marry a dead Man?
_Pa. _ No, but I shall come to Life again then.
_Ma. _ Well, you have removed my Objection. My _Pamphilus_, farewell.
_Pa. _ Do you take Care of that.
_Ma. _ I wish you a good Night. Why do you sigh?
_Pa. _ A good Night, say you, I wish you would give me what you wish me.
_Ma. _ Soft and fair, you are a little too hasty.
_Pa. _ Must I not carry nothing of you along with me?
_Ma. _ This sweet Ball; it will cheer your Heart.
_Pa. _ But give me a Kiss too.
_Ma. _ No, I have a Mind to keep my Maidenhead for you entire and
untouch'd.
_Pa. _ Will a Kiss take any Thing from your Virginity?
_Ma. _ Will you give me leave to kiss other Folks?
_Pa. _ No, by no Means, I'd have my Kisses kept for myself.
_Ma. _ Well, I'll keep 'em for you: But there is another Reason why I
dare not give you a Kiss, as Things are at present.
_Pa. _ What is that?
_Ma. _ You say your Soul is gone out of your Body into mine, so that
there is but very little left. I am afraid that in Kissing, the little
that is left in you, should jump out of you into me, and so you should
be quite dead. Shake Hands as a Pledge of my Love, and so farewell. Do
you see that you manage the Matter vigorously, and I'll pray to God in
the mean Time, that whatsoever be done, may be for both our good.
_The VIRGIN AVERSE TO MATRIMONY. _
The ARGUMENT.
_A Virgin averse to Matrimony, will needs be a Nun. She
is dissuaded from it, and persuaded to moderate her
Inclination in that Matter, and to do nothing against her
Parents Consent, but rather to marry. That Virginity may
be maintain'd in a conjugal Life. The Monks Way of living
in Celibacy is rally'd. Children, why so call'd. He
abhors those Plagiaries who entice young Men and Maids
into Monasteries, as though Salvation was to be had no
other Way; whence it comes to pass, that many great Wits
are as it were buried alive. _
EUBULUS, CATHERINE.
_Eub. _ I am glad with all my Heart, that Supper is over at last, that we
may have an Opportunity to take a Walk, which is the greatest Diversion
in the World.
_Ca. _ And I was quite tir'd of sitting so long at Table.
_Eu. _ How green and charming does every Thing in the World look! surely
this is its Youth.
_Ca. _ Ay, so it is.
_Eu. _ But why is it not Spring with you too?
_Ca. _ What do you mean?
_Eu. _ Because you look a little dull.
_Ca. _ Why, don't I look as I use to do?
_Eu. _ Shall I show you how you look?
_Ca. _ With all my Heart.
_Eu. _ Do you see this Rose, how it contracts itself, now towards Night?
_Ca. _ Yes, I do see it: And what then?
_Eu. _ Why, just so you look.
_Ca. _ A very fine Comparison.
_Eu.
_ If you won't believe me, see your own Face in this Fountain here.
What was the Meaning you sat sighing at Supper so?
_Ca. _ Pray don't ask Questions about that which don't concern you.
_Eu. _ But it does very much concern me, since I can't be chearful
myself, without you be so too. See now, there's another Sigh, and a deep
one too!
_Ca. _ There is indeed something that troubles my Mind. But I must not
tell it.
_Eu. _ What, won't you tell it me, that love you more dearly than I do my
own Sister: My _Katy_, don't be afraid to speak; be it what it will you
are safe.
_Ca. _ If I should be safe enough, yet I'm afraid I shall be never the
better in telling my Tale to one that can do me no good.
_Eu. _ How do you know that? If I can't serve you in the Thing itself,
perhaps I may in Counsel or Consolation.
_Ca. _ I can't speak it out.
_Eu. _ What is the Matter? Do you hate me?
_Ca. _ I love you more dearly than my own Brother, and yet for all that
my Heart won't let me divulge it.
_Eu. _ Will you tell me, if I guess it? Why do you quibble now? Give me
your Word, or I'll never let you alone till I have it out.
_Ca. _ Well then, I do give you my Word.
_Eu. _ Upon the whole of the Matter, I can't imagine what you should want
of being compleatly happy.
_Ca. _ I would I were so.
_Eu. _ You are in the very Flower of your Age: If I'm not mistaken, you
are now in your seventeenth Year.
_Ca. _ That's true.
_Eu. _ So that in my Opinion the Fear of old Age can't yet be any Part of
your Trouble.
_Ca. _ Nothing less, I assure you.
_Eu. _ And you are every Way lovely, and that is the singular Gift of
God.
_Ca. _ Of my Person, such as it is, I neither glory nor complain.
_Eu. _ And besides the Habit of your Body and your Complexion bespeak you
to be in perfect Health, unless you have some hidden Distemper.
_Ca. _ Nothing of that, I thank God.
_Eu. _ And besides, your Credit is fair.
_Ca. _ I trust it is.
_Eu. _ And you are endow'd with a good Understanding suitable to the
Perfections of your Body, and such a one as I could wish to myself, in
order to my Attainment of the liberal Sciences.
_Ca. _ If I have, I thank God for it.
_Eu. _ And again, you are of a good agreeable Humour, which is rarely met
with in great Beauties, they are not wanting neither.
_Ca. _ I wish they were such as they should be.
_Eu. _ Some People are uneasy at the Meanness of their Extraction, but
your Parents are both of them well descended, and virtuous, of plentiful
Fortunes, and very kind to you.
_Ca. _ I have nothing to complain of upon that Account.
_Eu. _ What Need of many Words? Of all the young Women in the Country you
are the Person I would chuse for a Wife, if I were in Condition to
pretend to't.
_Ca. _ And I would chuse none but you for a Husband, if I were dispos'd
to marry.
_Eu. _ It must needs be some extraordinary Matter that troubles your Mind
so.
_Ca. _ It is no light Matter, you may depend upon it.
_Eu. _ You won't take it ill I hope if I guess at it.
_Ca. _ I have promis'd you I won't.
_Eu. _ I know by Experience what a Torment Love is. Come, confess now, is
that it? You promis'd to tell me.
_Ca. _ There's Love in the Case, but not that Sort of Love that you
imagine.
_Eu. _ What Sort of Love is it that you mean?
_Ca. _ Guess.
_Eu. _ I have guess'd all the Guesses I can guess; but I'm resolv'd I'll
never let go this Hand till I have gotten it out of you.
_Ca. _ How violent you are.
_Eu. _ Whatever your Care is, repose it in my Breast.
_Ca. _ Since you are so urgent, I will tell you. From my very Infancy I
have had a very strong Inclination.
_Eu. _ To what, I beseech you?
_Ca. _ To put myself into a Cloyster.
_Eu. _ What, to be a Nun?
_Ca. _ Yes.
_Eu. _ Ho! I find I was out in my Notion; to leave a Shoulder of Mutton
for a Sheep's Head.
_Ca. _ What's that you say, _Eubulus_?
_Eu. _ Nothing, my Dear, I did but cough. But, go on, tell me it out.
_Ca. _ This was my Inclination; but my Parents were violently set against
it.
_Eu. _ I hear ye.
_Ca. _ On the other Hand, I strove by Intreaties, fair Words, and Tears,
to overcome that pious Aversion of my Parents.
_Eu. _ O strange!
_Ca. _ At Length when they saw I persisted in Intreaties, Prayers, and
Tears, they promis'd me that if I continu'd in the same Mind till I was
seventeen Years of Age, they would leave me to my own Liberty: The Time
is now come, I continue still in the same Mind, and they go from their
Words. This is that which troubles my Mind. I have told you my
Distemper, do you be my Physician, and cure me, if you can.
_Eu. _ In the first Place, my sweet Creature, I would advise you to
moderate your Affections; and if you can't do all you would, do all that
you can.
_Ca. _ It will certainly be the Death of me, if I han't my Desire.
_Eu. _ What was it that gave the first Rise to this fatal Resolution?
_Ca. _ Formerly, when I was a little Girl, they carried me into one of
those Cloysters of Virgins, carry'd me all about it, and shew'd me the
whole College. I was mightily taken with the Virgins, they look'd so
charming pretty, just like Angels; the Chapels were so neat, and smelt
so sweet, the Gardens look'd so delicately well order'd, that in short
which Way soever I turn'd my Eye every Thing seem'd delightful. And then
I had the prettiest Discourse with the Nuns. And I found two or three
that had been my Play-Fellows when I was a Child, and I have had a
strange Passion for that Sort of Life ever since.
_Eu. _ I have no Dislike to the Nunneries themselves, though the same
Thing can never agree with all Persons: But considering your Genius, as
far as I can gather from your Complexion and Manners, I should rather
advise you to an agreeable Husband, and set up a College in your own
House, of which he should be the Abbot and you the Abbess.
_Ca. _ I will rather die than quit my Resolution of Virginity.
_Eu. _ Nay, it is indeed an admirable Thing to be a pure Virgin, but you
may keep yourself so without running yourself into a Cloyster, from
which you never can come out. You may keep your Maidenhead at Home with
your Parents.
_Ca. _ Yes, I may, but it is not so safe there.
_Eu. _ Much safer truly in my Judgment there, than with those brawny,
swill-belly'd Monks. They are no Capons, I'll assure you, whatever you
may think of them. They are call'd Fathers, and they commonly make good
their Calling to the very Letter. Time was when Maids liv'd no where
honester than at home with their Parents, when the only spiritual Father
they had was the Bishop. But, prithee, tell me, what Cloyster hast thou
made Choice of among 'em all, to be a Slave in?
_Ca. _ The _Chrysertian_.
_Eu. _ Oh! I know it, it is a little Way from your Father's House.
_Ca. _ You're right.
_Eu. _ I am very well acquainted with the whole Gang. A sweet Fellowship
to renounce Father and Mother, Friends, and a worthy Family for! For the
Patriarch himself, what with Age, Wine, and a certain natural
Drowsiness, has been mop'd this many a Day, he can't now relish any
Thing but Wine; and he has two Companions, _John_ and _Jodocus_, that
match him to a Hair. And as for _John_, indeed I can't say he is an ill
Man, for he has nothing at all of a Man about him but his Beard, not a
Grain of Learning in him, and not much more common Prudence. And
_Jodocus_ he's so arrant a Sot, that if he were not ty'd up to the Habit
of his Order, he would walk the Streets in a Fool's Cap with Ears and
Bells at it.
_Ca. _ Truly they seem to me to be very good Men.
_Eu. _ But, my _Kitty_, I know 'em better than you do. They will do good
Offices perhaps between you and your Parents, that they may gain a
Proselyte.
_Ca. Jodocus_ is very civil to me.
_Eu. _ A great Favour indeed. But suppose 'em good and learned Men to
Day, you'll find 'em the contrary perhaps to Morrow; and let them be
what they will then, you must bear with them.
_Ca. _ I am troubled to see so many Entertainments at my Father's House,
and marry'd Folks are so given to talk smutty; I'm put to't sometimes
when Men come to kiss me, and you know one can't well deny a Kiss.
_Eu. _ He that would avoid every Thing that offends him, must go out of
the World; we must accustom our Ears to hear every Thing, but let
nothing enter the Mind but what is good. I suppose your Parents allow
you a Chamber to yourself.
_Ca. _ Yes, they do.
_Eu. _ Then you may retire thither, if you find the Company grow
troublesome; and while they are drinking and joking, you may entertain
yourself with Christ your Spouse, praying, singing, and giving Thanks:
Your Father's House will not defile you, and you will make it the more
pure.
_Ca. _ But it is a great Deal safer to be in Virgins Company.
_Eu. _ I do not disapprove of a chaste Society: Yet I would not have you
delude yourself with false Imaginations. When once you come to be
throughly acquainted there, and see Things nearer Hand, perhaps Things
won't look with so good a Face as they did once. They are not all
Virgins that wear Vails; believe me.
_Ca. _ Good Words, I beseech you.
_Eu. _ Those are good Words that are true Words. I never read of but one
Virgin that was a Mother, _i. e. _ the Virgin _Mary_, unless the Eulogy we
appropriate to the Virgin be transferr'd to a great many to be call'd
Virgins after Childbearing.
_Ca. _ I abhor the Thoughts on't.
_Eu. _ Nay, and more than that, those Maids, I'll assure you, do more
than becomes Maids to do.