_PAM._ Either my Sight fails me, or this is my old Pot-Companion
_Cocles_.
_Co._ No, no, your Eyes don't deceive you at all, you see a Companion
that is yours heartily. Nobody ever thought to have seen you again, you
have been gone so many Years, and no Body knew what was become of you.
But whence come you from? Prithee tell me.
_Pa._ From the _Antipodes_.
_Co._ Nay, but I believe you are come from the fortunate Islands.
_Pa._ I am glad you know your old Companion, I was afraid I should come
home as _Ulysses_ did.
_Co._ Why pray? After what Manner did he come Home?
_Pa._ His own Wife did not know him; only his Dog, being grown very old,
acknowledg'd his Master, by wagging his Tail.
_Co._ How many Years was he from Home?
_Pa._ Twenty.
_Co._ You have been absent more than twenty Years, and yet I knew your
Face again. But who tells that Story of _Ulysses_?
_Pa._ _Homer._
_Co._ He? They say he's the Father of all fabulous Stories. It may be
his Wife had gotten herself a Gallant in the mean time, and therefore
did not know her own _Ulysses_.
_Pa._ No, nothing of that, she was one of the chastest Women in the
World. But _Pallas_ had made _Ulysses_ look old, that he might not be
known.
_Co._ How came he to be known at last?
_Pa._ By a little Wart that he had upon one of his Toes. His Nurse, who
was now a very old Woman, took Notice of that as she was washing his
Feet.
_Co._ A curious old Hagg. Well then, do you admire that I know you that
have so remarkable a Nose.
_Pa._ I am not at all sorry for this Nose.
_Co._ No, nor have you any Occasion to be sorry for having a Thing that
is fit for so many Uses.
_Pa._ For what Uses?
_Co._ First of all, it will serve instead of an Extinguisher, to put out
Candles.
_Pa._ Go on.
_Co._ Again, if you want to draw any Thing out of a deep Pit, it will
serve instead of an Elephant's Trunk.
_Pa._ O wonderful.
_Co._ If your Hands be employ'd, it will serve instead of a Pin.
_Pa._ Is it good for any Thing else?
_Co._ If you have no Bellows, it will serve to blow the Fire.
_Pa._ This is very pretty; have you any more of it?
_Co._ If the Light offends you when you are writing, it will serve for
an Umbrella.
_Pa._ Ha, ha, ha! Have you any Thing more to say?
_Co._ In a Sea-fight it will serve for a Grappling-hook.
_Pa._ What will it serve for in a Land-fight?
_Co._ Instead of a Shield.
_Pa._ And what else?
_Co._ It will serve for a Wedge to cleave Wood withal.
_Pa._ Well said.
_Co._ If you act the Part of a Herald, it will be for a Trumpet; if you
sound an Alarm, a Horn; if you dig, a Spade; if you reap, a Sickle; if
you go to Sea, an Anchor; in the Kitchen it will serve for a Flesh-hook;
and in Fishing a Fish-hook.
_Pa._ I am a happy Fellow indeed, I did not know I carry'd about me a
Piece of Houshold Stuff that would serve for so many Uses.
_Co._ But in the mean Time, in what Corner of the Earth have you hid
yourself all this While?
_Pa._ In _Rome_.
_Co._ But is it possible that in so publick a Place no Body should know
you were alive?
_Pa._ Good Men are no where in the World so much _incognito_ as there,
so that in the brightest Day you shall scarce see one in a throng'd
Market.
_Co._ Well, but then you're come home loaden with Benefices.
_Pa._ Indeed I hunted after them diligently, but I had no Success; for
the Way of Fishing there is according to the Proverb, with a golden
Hook.
_Co._ That's a foolish Way of Fishing.
_Pa._ No Matter for that, some Folks find it a very good Way.
_Co._ Are they not the greatest Fools in Nature that change Gold for
Lead?
_Pa._ But don't you know that there are Veins of Gold in holy Lead?
_Co._ What then! Are you come back nothing but a _Pamphagus_?
_Pa._ No.
_Co._ What then, pray?
_Pa._ A ravenous Wolf.
_Co._ But they make a better Voyage of it, that return laden with
Budgets full of Benefices. Why had you rather have a Benefice than a
Wife?
_Pa._ Because I love to live at Ease. I love to live a pleasant Life.
_Co._ But in my Opinion they live the most pleasant Life that have at
Home a pretty Girl, that they may embrace as often as they have a Mind
to it.
_Pa._ And you may add this to it, sometimes when they have no Mind to
it. I love a continual Pleasure; he that marries a Wife is happy for a
Month, but he that gets a fat Benefice lives merrily all his Life.
_Co._ But Solitude is so melancholy a Life, that _Adam_, in _Paradise_
could not have liv'd happily unless God had given him an _Eve_.
_Pa._ He'll ne'er need to want an _Eve_ that has gotten a good Benefice.
_Co._ But that Pleasure can't really be call'd Pleasure that carries an
ill Name and bad Conscience with it.
_Pa._ You say true, and therefore I design to divert the Tediousness of
Solitude by a Conversation with Books.
_Co._ They are the pleasantest Companions in the World. But do you
intend to return to your Fishing again?
_Pa._ Yes, I would, if I could get a fresh Bait.
_Co._ Would you have a golden one or a silver one?
_Pa._ Either of them.
_Co._ Be of good Cheer, your Father will supply you.
_Pa._ He'll part with nothing; and especially he'll not trust me again,
when he comes to understand I have spent what I had to no Purpose.
_Co._ That's the Chance of the Dice.
_Pa._ But he don't like those Dice.
_Co._ If he shall absolutely deny you, I'll shew you where you may have
as much as you please.
_Pa._ You tell me good News indeed, come shew it me, my Heart leaps for
Joy.
_Co._ It is here hard by.
_Pa._ Why, have you gotten a Treasure?
_Co._ If I had, I would have it for myself, not for you.
_Pa._ If I could but get together 100 Ducats I should be in Hopes again.
_Co._ I'll shew you where you may have 100,000.
_Pa._ Prithee put me out of my Pain then, and do not teaze me to Death.
Tell me where I may have it.
_Co._ From the _Asse Budæi_, there you may find a great many Ten
Thousands, whether you'd have it Gold or Silver.
_Pa._ Go and be hang'd with your Banter, I'll pay you what I owe you out
of that Bank.
_Co._ Ay, so you shall, but it shall be what I lend you out of it.
_Pa._ I know your waggish Tricks well enough.
_Co._ I'm not to be compar'd to you for that.
_Pa._ Nay, you are the veriest Wag in Nature, you are nothing but
Waggery; you make a Jest of a serious Matter. In this Affair it is far
easier Matter to teaze me than it is to please me. The Matter is of too
great a Consequence to be made a Jest on. If you were in my Case you
would not be so gamesome; you make a mere Game of me; you game and
banter me. You joke upon me in a Thing that is not a joking Matter.
_Co._ I don't jeer you, I speak what I think. Indeed I do not laugh, I
speak my Mind. I speak seriously. I speak from my Heart. I speak
sincerely. I speak the Truth.
_Pa._ So may your Cap stand always upon your Head, as you speak
sincerely. But do I stand loitering here, and make no haste Home to see
how all Things go there?
_Co._ You'll find a great many Things new.
_Pa._ I believe I shall; but I wish I may find all Things as I would
have them.
_Co._ We may all wish so if we will, but never any Body found it so yet.
_Pa._ Our Rambles will do us both this Good, that we shall like Home the
better for Time to come.
_Co._ I can't tell that, for I have seen some that have play'd the same
Game over and over again; if once this Infection seizes a Person he
seldom gets rid of it.
_OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE._
The ARGUMENT.
_The wicked Life of Soldiers is here reprehended, and
shewn to be very miserable: That War is Confusion, and a
Sink of all manner of Vices, in as much as in it there is
no Distinction made betwixt Things sacred and profane.
The Hope of Plunder allures many to become Soldiers. The
Impieties of a Military Life are here laid open, by this
Confession of a Soldier, that Youth may be put out of
Conceit of going into the Army._