No More Learning

Here's an End of
the first Act of this Comedy. When they were returned and entered into
Discourse, _Polus_, as though he had known nothing of the Matter,
enquires what was done. _Faunus_ tells him, that two hideous Caco-dæmons
appear'd to him on black Horses, their Eyes sparkling with Fire, and
breathing Fire out of their Nostrils, making an Attempt to break into
the Circle, but that they were driven away with a Vengeance, by the
Power and Efficacy of his Words. This Encounter having put Courage into
_Faunus_, the next Day he goes into his Circle again with great
Solemnity, and after he had provok'd the Spirit a long Time with the
Vehemence of his Words, _Polus_ and his Companion appear again at a
pretty Distance, with their black Horses, with a most outragious Noise,
making a Feint, as if they would break into the Circle.

_Tho. _ Had they no Fire then?

_Ans. _ No, none at all; for that had lik'd to have fallen out very
unluckily to them. But hear another Device: They drew a long Rope over
the Ground, and then hurrying from one Place to another, as though they
were beat off by the Exorcisms of _Faunus_, they threw down both the
Priest and holy Water-Pot all together.

_Tho. _ This Reward the Parish-Priest had for playing his Part?

_Ans. _ Yes, he had; and for all that, he had rather suffer this than
quit the Design. After this Encounter, when they came to talk over the
Matter again, _Faunus_ tells a mighty Story to _Polus_, what great
Danger he had been in, and how couragiously he had driven both the evil
Spirits away with his Charms, and now he had arriv'd at a firm
Persuasion, that there was no Dæmon, let him be ever so mischievous or
impudent, that could possibly break into this Circle.

_Tho. _ This _Faunus_ was not far from being a Fool.

_Ans. _ You have heard nothing yet. The Comedy being thus far advanc'd,
_Polus_'s Son-in-Law comes in very good Time, for he had married
_Polus's_ eldest Daughter; he's a wonderful merry Droll, you know.

_Tho. _ Know him! Ay, I know him, that he has no Aversion for such Tricks
as these.

_Ans. _ No Aversion, do you say, nay he would leave the most urgent
Affair in the World, if such a Comedy were either to be seen or acted.
His Father-in-Law tells him the whole Story, and gives him his Part,
that was, to act the Ghost. He puts on a Dress, and wraps himself up in
a Shrowd, and carrying a live Coal in a Shell, it appear'd through his
Shrowd as if something were burning. About Night he goes to the Place
where this Play was acted, there were heard most doleful Moans. _Faunus_
lets fly all his Exorcisms. At Length the Ghost appears a good Way off
in the Bushes, every now and then shewing the Fire, and making a rueful
Groaning. While _Faunus_ was adjuring the Ghost to declare who he was,
_Polus_ of a sudden leaps out of the Thicket, dress'd like a Devil, and
making a Roaring, answers him, you have nothing to do with this Soul, it
is mine; and every now and then runs to the very Edge of the Circle, as
if he would set upon the Exorcist, and then retired back again, as if he
was beaten back by the Words of the Exorcism, and the Power of the holy
Water, which he threw upon him in great Abundance. At last when this
guardian Devil was chased away, _Faunus_ enters into a Dialogue with the
Soul. After he had been interrogated and abjured, he answers, that he
was the Soul of a Christian Man, and being asked his Name, he answered
_Faunus_. _Faunus_! replies the other, that's my Name. So then they
being Name-Sakes, he laid the Matter more to Heart, that _Faunus_ might
deliver _Faunus_. _Faunus_ asking a Multitude of Questions, lest a long
Discourse should discover the Fraud, the Ghost retires, saying it was
not permitted to stay to talk any longer, because its Time was come,
that it must go whither its Devil pleased to carry it; but yet promised
to come again the next Day, at what Hour it could be permitted. They
meet together again at _Polus's_ House, who was the Master of the Show.
There the Exorcist relates what was done, and tho' he added some Lies to
the Story, yet he believed them to be true himself, he was so heartily
affected with the Matter in Hand. At last it appeared manifestly, that
it was the Soul of a Christian who was vexed with the dreadful Torments
of an unmerciful Devil: Now all the Endeavours are bent this Way. There
happened a ridiculous Passage in the next Exorcism.

_Tho. _ Prithee what was that?

_Ans. _ When _Faunus_ had called up the Ghost, _Polus_, that acted the
Devil, leap'd directly at him, as if he would, without any more to do,
break into the Circle; and _Faunus_ he resisted stoutly with his
Exorcisms, and had thrown a power of holy Water, the Devil at last cries
out, that he did not value all this of a Rush; you have had to do with a
Wench, and you are my own yourself. And tho' _Polus_ said so in Jest, it
seemed that he had spoken Truth: For the Exorcist being touched with
this Word, presently retreated to the very Centre of the Circle, and
whispered something in the Priest's Ear. _Polus_ seeing that, retires,
that he might not hear what it was not fit for him to hear.

_Tho. _ In Truth, _Polus_ was a very modest, religious Devil.

_Ans. _ He was so, otherwise he might have been blamed for not observing
a _Decorum_, but yet he heard the Priest's Voice appointing him
Satisfaction.

_Tho. _ What was that?

_Ans. _ That he should say the glorious 78th Psalm, three Times over, by
which he conjectured he had had to do with her three Times that Night.

_Tho. _ He was an irregular _Regular_.

_Ans. _ They are but Men, and this is but human Frailty.

_Tho. _ Well, proceed: what was done after this?

_Ans. _ Now _Faunus_ more couragiously advances to the very Edge of the
Circle, and challenges the Devil of his own Accord; but the Devil's
Heart failed him, and he fled back. You have deceived me, says he, if I
had been wise I had not given you that Caution: Many are of Opinion,
that what you have once confess'd is immediately struck out of the
Devil's Memory, that he can never be able to twit you in the Teeth for
it.

_Tho. _ What a ridiculous Conceit do you tell me of?

_Ans. _ But to draw towards a Conclusion of the Matter: This Dialogue
with the Ghost held for some Days; at last it came to this Issue: The
Exorcist asking the Soul, If there was any Way by which it might
possibly be delivered from its Torments, it answered, it might, if the
Money that it had left behind, being gotten by Cheating, should be
restored. Then, says _Faunus_, What if it were put into the Hands of
good People, to be disposed of to pious Uses? The Spirit reply'd, That
might do. The Exorcist was rejoic'd at this; he enquires particularly,
What Sum there was of it? The Spirit reply'd, That it was a vast Sum,
and might prove very good and commodious: it told the Place too where
the Treasure was hid, but it was a long Way off: And it order'd what
Uses it should be put to.

_Tho. _ What were they?

_Ans. _ That three Persons were to undertake a Pilgrimage; one to the
Threshold of St. _Peter_; another to salute St. _James_ at
_Compostella;_ and the third should kiss _Jesus'_s Comb at _Tryers_; and
after that, a vast Number of Services and Masses should be performed in
several great Monasteries; and as to the Overplus, he should dispose of
it as he pleas'd. Now _Faunus'_s Mind was fixed upon the Treasure; he
had, in a Manner, swallowed it in his Mind.

_Tho. _ That's a common Disease; but more peculiarly thrown in the
Priests Dish, upon all Occasions.

_Ans. _ After nothing had been omitted that related to the Affair of the
Money, the Exorcist being put upon it by _Polus_, began to put Questions
to the Spirit, about several Arts, as Alchymy and Magick. To these
Things the Spirit gave Answers, putting off the Resolution of these
Questions for the present, promising it would make larger Discoveries as
soon as ever, by his Assistance, it should get out of the Clutches of
its Keeper, the Devil; and, if you please, you may let this be the
third Act of this Play. As to the fourth Act, _Faunus_ began, in good
Earnest, everywhere to talk high, and to talk of nothing else in all
Companies and at the Table, and to promise glorious Things to
Monasteries; and talk'd of nothing that was low and mean. He goes to the
Place, and finds the Tokens, but did not dare to dig for the Treasure,
because the Spirit had thrown this Caution in the Way, that it would be
extremely dangerous to touch the Treasure, before the Masses had been
performed. By this Time, a great many of the wiser Sort had smelt out
the Plot, while _Faunus_ at the same Time was every where proclaiming
his Folly; tho' he was privately cautioned by his Friends, and
especially his Abbot, that he who had hitherto had the Reputation of a
prudent Man, should not give the World a Specimen of his being quite
contrary. But the Imagination of the Thing had so entirely possess'd his
Mind, that all that could be said of him, had no Influence upon him, to
make him doubt of the Matter; and he dreamt of nothing but Spectres and
Devils: The very Habit of his Mind was got into his Face, that he was so
pale, and meagre and dejected, that you would say he was rather a Sprite
than a Man: And in short, he was not far from being stark mad, and would
have been so, had it not been timely prevented.

_Tho. _ Well, let this be the last Act of the Play.

_Ans. _ Well, you shall have it. _Polus_ and his Son-in-Law, hammer'd out
this Piece betwixt them: They counterfeited an Epistle written in a
strange antique Character, and not upon common Paper, but such as
Gold-Beaters put their Leaf-Gold in, a reddish Paper, you know. The Form
of the Epistle was this:

Faunus, _long a Captive, but now free. To_ Faunus, _his gracious
Deliverer sends eternal Health. There is no Need, my dear_ Faunus, _that
thou shouldest macerate thyself any longer in this Affair. God has
respected the pious Intention of thy Mind; and by the Merit of it, has
delivered me from Torments, and I now live happily among the Angels.
Thou hast a Place provided for thee with St. Austin, which is next to
the Choir of the Apostles: When thou earnest to us, I will give thee
publick Thanks. In the mean Time, see that thou live merrily. _

_From the_ Imperial Heaven, _the
Ides of_ September, _Anno_ 1498.
_Under the Seal of my own Ring. _

This Epistle was laid privately under the Altar where _Faunus_ was to
perform divine Service: This being done, there was one appointed to
advertise him of it, as if he had found it by Chance. And now he carries
the Letter about him, and shews it as a very sacred Thing; and believes
nothing more firmly, than that it was brought from Heaven by an Angel.

_Tho. _ This is not delivering the Man from his Madness, but changing the
Sort of it.

_Ans. _ Why truly, so it is, only he is now more pleasantly mad than
before.

_Tho. _ I never was wont to give much Credit to Stories of Apparitions in
common; but for the Time to come, I shall give much less: For I believe
that many Things that have been printed and published, as true
Relations, were only by Artifice and Imposture, Impositions upon
credulous Persons, and such as _Faunus. _

_Ans. _ And I also believe that a great many of them are of the same
Kind.




_The ALCHYMIST. _


The ARGUMENT.

_This Colloquy shews the Dotage of an old Man, otherwise
a very prudent Person, upon this Art; being trick'd by a
Priest, under Pretence of a two-Fold Method in this Art,
the_ long Way _and the_ short Way. _By the long Way he
puts an egregious Cheat upon old_ Balbinus: _The
Alchymist lays the Fault upon his Coals and Glasses.
Presents of Gold are sent to the Virgin_ Mary, _that she
would assist them in their Undertakings. Some Courtiers
having come to the Knowledge that_ Balbinus _practis'd
this unlawful Art, are brib'd. At last the Alchymist is
discharg'd, having Money given him to bear his Charges. _


PHILECOUS, LALUS.

_Phi. _ What News is here, that _Lalus_ laughs to himself so that he e'en
giggles again, every now and then signing himself with the Sign of the
Cross? I'll interrupt his Felicity. God bless you heartily, my very good
Friend _Lalus_; you seem to me to be very happy.

_La. _ But I shall be much happier, if I make you a Partaker of my merry
Conceitedness.

_Phi. _ Prithee, then, make me happy as soon as you can.

_La. _ Do you know _Balbinus_?

_Phi. _ What, that learned old Gentleman that has such a very good
Character in the World?

_La. _ It is as you say; but no Man is wise at all Times, or is without
his blind Side. This Man, among his many good Qualifications, has some
Foibles: He has been a long Time bewitch'd with the Art call'd
_Alchymy_.

_Phi. _ Believe me, that you call only Foible, is a dangerous Disease.

_La. _ However that is, notwithstanding he had been so often bitten by
this Sort of People, yet he has lately suffer'd himself to be impos'd
upon again.

_Phi. _ In what Manner?

_La. _ A certain Priest went to him, saluted him with great Respect, and
accosted him in this Manner: Most learned _Balbinus_, perhaps you will
wonder that I, being a Stranger to you, should thus interrupt you, who,
I know, are always earnestly engag'd in the most sacred Studies.
_Balbinus_ gave him a Nod, as was his Custom; for he is wonderfully
sparing of his Words.

_Phi. _ That's an Argument of Prudence.

_La. _ But the other, as the wiser of the two, proceeds. You will forgive
this my Importunity, when you shall know the Cause of my coming to you.
Tell me then, says _Balbinus_, but in as few Words as you can. I will,
says he, as briefly as I am able. You know, most learned of Men, that
the Fates of Mortals are various; and I can't tell among which I should
class myself, whether among the happy or the miserable; for when I
contemplate my Fate on one Part, I account myself most happy, but if on
the other Part, I am one of the most miserable. _Balbinus_ pressing him
to contract his Speech into a narrow Compass; I will have done
immediately, most learned _Balbinus_, says he, and it will be the more
easy for me to do it, to a Man who understands the whole Affair so well,
that no Man understands it better.

_Phi. _ You are rather drawing an Orator than an Alchymist.

_La. _ You shall hear the Alchymist by and by. This Happiness, says he, I
have had from a Child, to have learn'd that most desirable Art, I mean
Alchymy, the very Marrow of universal Philosophy. At the very Mention of
the Name Alchymy, _Balbinus_ rais'd himself a little, that is to say,
in Gesture only, and fetching a deep Sigh, bid him go forward. Then he
proceeds: But miserable Man that I am, said he, by not falling into the
right Way! _Balbinus_ asking him what Ways those were he spoke of; Good
Sir, says he, you know (for what is there, most learned Sir, that you
are ignorant of? ) that there are two Ways in this Art, one which is
_call'd the Longation, and the other which is call'd the Curtation_. But
by my bad Fate, I have fallen upon _Longation. Balbinus_ asking him,
what was the Difference of the Ways; it would be impudent in me, says
he, to mention this to a Man, to whom all Things are so well known, that
Nobody knows them better; therefore I humbly address myself to you, that
you would take Pity on me, and vouchsafe to communicate to me that most
happy Way of _Curtation_. And by how much the better you understand this
Art, by so much the less Labour you will be able to impart it to me: Do
not conceal so great a Gift from your poor Brother that is ready to die
with Grief. And as you assist me in this, so may _Jesus Christ_ ever
enrich you with more sublime Endowments. He thus making no End of his
Solemnity of Obtestations, _Balbinus_ was oblig'd to confess, that he
was entirely ignorant of what he meant by _Longation_ and _Curtation_,
and bids him explain the Meaning of those Words. Then he began; Altho'
Sir, says he, I know I speak to a Person that is better skill'd than
myself, yet since you command me I will do it: Those that have spent
their whole Life in this divine Art, change the Species of Things two
Ways, the one is shorter, but more hazardous, the other is longer, but
safer. I account myself very unhappy, that I have laboured in that Way
that does not suit my Genius, nor could I yet find out any Body who
would shew me the other Way that I am so passionately desirous of; but
at last God has put it into my Mind to apply myself to you, a Man of as
much Piety as Learning; your Learning qualifies you to answer my Request
with Ease, and your Piety will dispose you to help a Christian Brother,
whose Life is in your Hands. 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?