_Au._ What? Would you have me bring no Learning along with me? I will
bring my Muses with me, unless you think it not convenient.
_Ch._ Shut up your ill-natured Muses at Home with your Business, but
bring your good-natured Muses, all your witty Jests, your By-words, your
Banters, your Pleasantries, your pretty Sayings, and all your
Ridiculosities along with you.
_Au._ I'll do as you bid me; put on all my best Looks. We'll be merry
Fellows. We'll laugh our Bellies full. We'll make much of ourselves.
We'll feast jovially. We'll play the _Epicureans_. We'll set a good Face
on't, and be boon Blades. These are fine Phrases of clownish Fellows
that have a peculiar Way of speaking to themselves.
_Ch._ Where are you going so fast?
_Au._ To my Son's in Law.
_Ch._ What do you do there? Why thither? What do you with him?
_Au._ I hear there is Disturbance among them; I am going to make them
Friends again, to bring them to an Agreement; to make Peace among them.
_Ch._ You do very well, though I believe they don't want you; for they
will make the Matter up better among themselves.
_Au._ Perhaps there is a Cessation of Arms, and the Peace is to be
concluded at Night. But have you any Thing else to say to me?
_Ch._ I will send my Boy to call you.
_Au._ When you please. I shall be at Home. Farewell.
_Ch._ I wish you well. See that you be here by five a-Clock. Soho
_Peter_, call _Austin_ to Supper, who you know promised to come to
Supper with me to Day.
_Pe._ Soho! Poet, God bless you, Supper has been ready this good While,
and my Master stays for you at Home, you may come when you will.
_Au._ I come this Minute.
_The PROFANE FEAST._
The ARGUMENT.
_Our_ Erasmus _most elegantly proposes all the Furniture
of this Feast; the Discourses and Behaviour of the
Entertainer and the Guests_, &c. _Water and a Bason
before Dinner. The_ Stoics, _the_ Epicureans; _the Form
of the Grace at Table. It is good Wine that pleases four
Senses. Why_ Bacchus _is the Poets God; why he is painted
a Boy. Mutton very wholsome. That a Man does not live by
Bread and Wine only. Sleep makes some Persons fat.
Venison is dear. Concerning Deers, Hares, and Geese: They
of old defended the Capitol at_ Rome. _Of Cocks, Capons
and Fishes. Here is discoursed of by the by, Fasting. Of
the Choice of Meats. Some Persons Superstition in that
Matter. The Cruelty of those Persons that require these
Things of those Persons they are hurtful to; when the
eating of Fish is neither necessary, nor commanded by
Christ. The eating of Fish is condemned by Physicians.
The chief Luxury of old Time consisted in Fishes. We
should always live a sober Life. What Number of Guests
there should be at an Entertainment. The Bill of Fare of
the second Course. The Magnificence of the_ French. _The
ancient Law of Feasts. Either drink, or begone. A
Variation of Phrases. Thanksgiving after Meat._
AUSTIN, CHRISTIAN, _a_ BOY.
_Au._ O, my _Christian_, God bless you.
_Ch._ It is very well that you are come. I am glad you're come. I
congratulate myself that you are come. I believe it has not struck five
yet.
_Boy._ Yes, it is a good While past five. It is not far from six. It is
almost six. You'll hear it strike six presently.
_Au._ It is no great Matter whether I come before five or after five, as
long as I am not come after Supper; for that is a miserable Thing, to
come after a Feast is over. What's all this great Preparation for? What
means all this Provision? What, do you think I'm a Wolf? Do you take me
for a Wolf? Do you think I'm a Vulture?
_Ch._ Not a Vulture, nor yet do I think you a Grashopper, to live upon
Dew. Here is nothing of Extravagancy, I always lov'd Neatness, and abhor
Slovenliness. I am for being neither luxurious nor niggardly. We had
better leave than lack. If I dress'd but one Dish of Peas, and the Soot
should chance to fall in the Pot and spoil it, what should we have to
eat then? Nor does every Body love one Thing; therefore I love a
moderate Variety.
_Au._ An't you afraid of the sumptuary Laws?
_Ch._ Nay, I most commonly offend on the contrary Side. There is no need
of the _Fannian_ Law at our House. The Slenderness of my Income teaches
me Frugality sufficiently.
_Au._ This is contrary to our Agreement. You promised me quite
otherwise.
_Ch._ Well, Mr. Fool, you don't stand to your Agreement. For it was
agreed upon that you should bring nothing but merry Tales. But let us
have done with these Matters, and wash, and sit down to Supper. Soho,
Boy, bring a little Water and a Bason; hang a Towel over your Shoulder,
pour out some Water. What do you loiter for? Wash, _Austin_.
_Au._ Do you wash first.
_Ch._ Pray excuse me. I had rather eat my Supper with unwashen Hands
this twelve Months.
_Au._ O ridiculous! 'Tis not he that is the most honourable, but he
that is the dirtiest that should wash first; then do you wash as the
dirtiest.
_Ch._ You are too complaisant. You are more complaisant than enough;
than is fitting. But to what Purpose is all this Ceremony? Let us leave
these trifling Ceremonies to Women, they are quite kick'd out of the
Court already, although they came from thence at first. Wash three or
four at a Time. Don't let us spend the Time in these Delays. I won't
place any Body, let every one take what Place he likes best. He that
loves to sit by the Fire, will sit best here. He that can't bear the
Light let him take this Corner. He that loves to look about him, let him
sit here. Come, here has been Delays enough. Sit down. I am at Home,
I'll take my Supper standing, or walking about, which I like best. Why
don't you sit down, Supper will be spoiled.
_Au._ Now let us enjoy ourselves, and eat heartily. Now let us be
_Epicures_. We have nothing to do with Superciliousness. Farewell Care,
let all Ill-will and Detraction be banished. Let us be merry, pleasant,
and facetious.
_Ch. Austin_, pray who are those _Stoics_ and _Epicures_?
_Au._ The _Stoics_ are a certain melancholy, rigid, parcimonious Sect of
Philosophers, who make the _Summum bonum_ of Mankind, to consist in a
certain, I can't tell what, _honestum_. The _Epicures_ are the Reverse
of these, and they make the Felicity of a Man to consist in Pleasure.
_Ch._ Pray what Sect are you of, a _Stoic_ or an _Epicure_?
_Au._ I recommend _Zeno_'s Rules; but I follow _Epicurus_'s Practice.
_Ch. Austin_, what you speak in Jest, a great many do in Earnest, and
are only Philosophers by their Cloaks and Beards.
_Au._ Nay, indeed they out-live the _Asots_ in Luxury.
_Ch. Dromo_, come hither. Do your Office, say Grace.
_Boy._ "May he that feeds all Things by his Bounty, command his Blessing
upon what is or shall be set upon this Table. Amen."
_Ch._ Set the Victuals on the Table. Why do we delay to eat up this
Capon? Why are we afraid to carve this Cock?
_Au._ I'll be _Hercules_, and slay this Beast. Which had you rather
have, a Wing or a Leg?
_Ch._ Which you will, I don't matter which.
_Au._ In this Sort of Fowls the Wing is look'd upon the best; in other
Fowls the Leg is commonly esteemed the greater dainty Bit.
_Ch._ I put you to a great Deal of Trouble. You take a great Deal of
Trouble upon you, upon my Account. You help every Body else, and eat
nothing yourself. I'll help you to this Wing; but upon this Condition,
that you shall give me Half of it back.
_Au._ Say you so, that is serving yourself and not me; keep it for
yourself. I am not so bashful as to want any Body to help me.
_Ch._ You do very well.
_Au._ Do you carve for a Wolf? Have you invited a Vulture?
_Ch._ You fast. You don't eat.
_Au._ I eat more than any Body.
_Ch._ Nay, rather, you lye more than any Body. Pray be as free as if you
were at your own House.
_Au._ I take myself to be there. I do so. I am resolv'd so to do. I
design to do so.
_Ch._ How does this Wine please you? Does this Wine please your Palate?
_Au._ Indeed it pleases me very well. Indeed it pleases mightily. It
pleases me well enough. It pleases me very well.
_Ch._ Which had you rather have, Red or White?
_It is no Matter what Colour it is._
_Au._ Indeed I like both alike. It is no Matter what Colour 'tis, so the
Taste be pleasing. I don't much mind how the Wine pleases the Eye, so it
do but please the Palate. I an't much mov'd at the Sight of it, if the
Taste be but grateful. It is no great Matter what Colour it is of, or
what Colour it has, if it does but taste well. I don't desire to please
my Eyes if I can but please my Taste. If it do but please the Palate, I
don't regard the Colour, if it be well relish'd.
_Ch._ I believe so: But there are some Persons that are mighty deeply
read in Table Philosophy, who deny that the Wine can be good, unless it
pleases four Senses: The Eye, with its Colour; the Nose, with its Smell;
the Palate, with its Taste; the Ears, by its Fame and Name.
_Au._ O ridiculous! What signifies Fame to Drink?
_Ch._ As much as many that have a good Palate mightily approve of
_Lovain_ Wine, when they believe it to be _Bern_ Wine.
_Au._ It may be, they had spoiled their Palate by much Drinking.
_Ch._ No, before they had drank one Drop. But I have a Mind to hear your
Opinion, who are a Man of great Skill in these Matters.
_Au._ Our Countrymen prefer White before Red, because the Red is a
little more upon the Acid, and the White a smaller Wine; but that is the
milder, and in my Opinion the more wholsome.
_Ch._ We have a pale red Wine, and a yellow Wine, and a purple Colour
Wine. This is new Wine, this Year's Wine. This is two Years old, if any
Body is for an old Wine. We have some four Years old, but it is grown
flat and dead with Age. The Strength is gone with Age.
_Au._ Why, you're as rich as _Lucullus_.
_Ch._ Soho, Boy, where are you a loitering? You give us no Attendance;
don't you see we have no Wine here? What if a Fire should happen now?
How should we put it out? Give every one a full Glass. _Austin_, What's
the matter that you are not merry? What makes you sit so Melancholy?
What's the Matter with you, that you an't chearful? You are either
troubled at something, or you're making Verses. You play the
_Crysippus_ now, you want a _Melissa_ to feed you.
_Au._ What Story is this you are telling me of?
_Ch. Crysippus_ is reported to have been so intent upon his logical
Subtilties, that he would have been starved at Table, unless his Maid
_Melissa_ had put the Meat into his Mouth.
_Au._ He did not deserve to have his Life sav'd; but if Silence is an
Offence to you, and you love a noisy Feast, you have gotten that will
make one.
_Ch._ I remember I have. That's very well minded: We must drink more
freely, we ought to drink more largely, more Wine and less Water.
_You have hit on the Matter._
_Au._ You have hit the Nail on the Head. You are in the Right. You have
hit the Mark. For,
_Foecundi calices quem non fecere disertum?_
_Ch._ That is very learnedly spoken, _Austin_, and so indeed is all that
comes from you; but since we are fallen into a Discourse concerning
Wine, since we have happen'd to make mention of Wine, I have a mind to
ask you, for what Reason the Ancients, who will have _Bacchus_ the
Inventor of Wine, call him the God of the Poets? What has that drunken
God to do with Poets, who are the Votaries of the Virgin Muses?
_Au._ By _Bacchus_, this is a Question fit to be put over a Bottle. But
I see very well, what your Question drives at.
_Ch._ What, prithee?
_Au._ You very cunningly put a Question about Wine, by a _French_ Trick,
which I believe you learn'd at _Paris_, that you may save your Wine by
that Means. Ah, go your Way, I see you're a Sophister; you have made a
good Proficiency in that School.
_Ch._ Well, I take all your Jokes; I'll return the like to you, when
Opportunity shall offer. But to the Matter in Hand.
_Au._ I'll go on, but I'll drink first, for it is absurd to dispute
about a tippling Question with a dry Throat. Here's to you _Christian_.
Half this Cup to you.
_Ch._ I thank you kindly. God bless it to you, much good may it do you.
_Au._ Now I'm ready, at your Service. I'll do it as well as I can after
my Manner. That they have given a Boy's Face to _Bacchus_, has this
Mystery in it; that Wine being drank, takes away Cares and Vexations
from our Minds, and adds a Sort of a Chearfulness to them. And for this
Reason, it adds a Sort of Youthfulness even to old Men, in that it makes
them more chearful, and of a better Complexion. The same thing _Horace_
in many Places, and particularly testifies in these Verses:
_Ad mare cum veni, generosum et lene requiro,
Quod curas abigat, quod cum spe divite manet.
In venas, animumque meum, quod verba ministret.
Quod me Lucanoe juvenem commendet amicæ._
For that they have assign'd the Poets to this Deity, I believe by it
they design'd to intimate this, that Wine both stirs up Wit and
administers Eloquence; which two Things are very fit for Poets. Whence
it comes to pass, that your Water Drinkers make poor Verses. For
_Bacchus_ is of a fiery Constitution naturally, but he is made more
temperate, being united with the Nymphs. Have you been answer'd to your
Satisfaction?
_Ch._ I never heard any Thing more to the Purpose from a Poet. You
deserve to drink out of a Cup set with Jewels. Boy, take away this Dish,
and set on another.
_Au._ You have got a very clownish Boy.
_Ch._ He is the unluckiest Knave in the World.
_Au._ Why don't you teach him better Manners?
_Ch._ He is too old to learn. It is a hard matter to mend the Manners of
an old Sinner. An old Dog won't be easily brought to wear the Collar.
He's well enough for me. Like Master like Man.
* * * * *
_If I knew what you lik'd, I would help you._
_Au._ I would cut you a Slice, if I knew what would please you. I would
help you, if I knew your Palate. I would help you, if I knew what you
lik'd best. If I knew the Disposition of your Palate, I would be your
Carver. Indeed my Palate is like my Judgment.
_Ch._ You have a very nice Palate. No Body has a nicer Palate than you
have. I don't think you come behind him of whose exquisite Skill the
Satyrist says,
_Ostrea callebat primo deprendere morsu,
Et semel aspecti dicebat littus echini._
_Au._ And you, my _Christian_, that I may return the Compliment, seem to
have been Scholar to _Epicurus_, or brought up in the _Catian_ School.
For what's more delicate or nice than your Palate?
_Ch._ If I understood Oratory so well as I do Cookery, I'd challenge
_Cicero_ himself.
_Au._ Indeed if I must be without one, I had rather want Oratory than
Cookery.
_Ch._ I am entirely of your Mind, you judge gravely, wisely, and truly.
For what is the Prattle of Orators good for, but to tickle idle Ears
with a vain Pleasure? But Cookery feeds and repairs the Palate, the
Belly, and the whole Man, let him be as big as he will. _Cicero_ says,
_Concedat laurea lingæ_; but both of them must give place to Cookery. I
never very well liked those _Stoicks_, who referring all things to their
(I can't tell what) _honestum_, thought we ought to have no regard to
our Persons and our Palates. _Aristippus_ was wiser than _Diogenes_
beyond Expression in my Opinion.
_Au._ I despise the _Stoicks_ with all their Fasts. But I praise and
approve _Epicurus_ more than that _Cynic Diogenes_, who lived upon raw
Herbs and Water; and therefore I don't wonder that _Alexander_, that
fortunate King, had rather be _Alexander_ than _Diogenes_.
_Ch._ Nor indeed would I myself, who am but an ordinary Man, change my
Philosophy for _Diogenes_'s; and I believe your _Catius_ would refuse
to do it too. The Philosophers of our Time are wiser, who are content to
dispute like _Stoicks_, but in living out-do even _Epicurus_ himself.
And yet for all that, I look upon Philosophy to be one of the most
excellent Things in Nature, if used moderately. I don't approve of
philosophising too much, for it is a very jejune, barren, and melancholy
Thing. When I fall into any Calamity or Sickness, then I betake myself
to Philosophy, as to a Physician; but when I am well again, I bid it
farewell.
_Au._ I like your Method. You do philosophize very well. Your humble
Servant, Mr. Philosopher; not of the _Stoick_ School, but the Kitchen.
_Ch._ What is the Matter with you, _Erasmus_, that you are so
melancholy? What makes you look so frowningly? What makes you so silent?
Are you angry with me because I have entertained you with such a slender
Supper?
_Er._ Nay, I am angry with you that you have put your self to so much
Charge upon my Account. _Austin_ laid a strict Charge upon you that you
would provide nothing extraordinary upon his Account. I believe you have
a Mind we should never come to see you again; for they give such a
Supper as this that intended to make but one. What sort of Guests did
you expect? You seem to have provided not for Friends, but for Princes.
Do you think we are Gluttons? This is not to entertain one with a
Supper, but victualling one for three Days together.
_Ch._ You will be ill-humour'd. Dispute about that Matter to-Morrow;
pray be good humour'd to-Day. We'll talk about the Charge to-Morrow; I
have no Mind to hear any Thing but what is merry at this time.
_Au. Christian_, whether had you rather have, Beef or Mutton?
_Ch._ I like Beef best, but I think Mutton is the most wholsome. It is
the Disposition of Mankind to be most desirous of those Things that are
the most hurtful.
_Au._ The _French_ are wonderful Admirers of Pork.
_Ch._ The _French_ love that most that costs least.
_Au._ I am a Jew in this one Thing, there is nothing I hate so much as
Swine's Flesh.
_Ch._ Nor without Reason, for what is more unwholsome? In this I am not
of the _French_ Man's but of the _Jew's_ Mind.
_Er._ But I love both Mutton and Pork, but for a different Reason; for I
eat freely of Mutton, because I love it; but Hogs Flesh I don't touch,
by Reason of Love, that I may not give Offence.
_Ch._ You are a clever Man, _Erasmus_, and a very merry one too. Indeed
I am apt to admire from whence it comes to pass that there is such a
great Diversity in Mens Palates, for if I may make use of this Verse of
_Horace_,
Tres mihi convivæ propè dissentire videntur,
Poscentes vario multùm diversa palato.
_Er._ Although as the Comedian says, _So many Men, so many Minds_, and
every Man has his own Way; yet no Body can make me believe, there is
more Variety in Mens Dispositions, than there is in their Palates: So
that you can scarce find two that love the same Things. I have seen a
great many, that can't bear so much as the Smell of Butter and Cheese:
Some loath Flesh; one will not eat roast Meat, and another won't eat
boil'd. There are many that prefer Water before Wine. And more than
this, which you'll hardly believe; I have seen a Man who would neither
eat Bread, nor drink Wine.
_Ch._ What did that poor Man live on?
_Er._ There was nothing else but what he could eat; Meat, Fish, Herbs
and Fruit.
_Ch._ Would you have me believe you?
_Er._ Yes, if you will.
_Ch._ I will believe you; but upon this Condition, that you shall
believe me when I tell a Lye.
_Er._ Well, I will do it, so that you lye modestly.
_Ch._ As if any Thing could be more impudent than your Lye.
_Er._ What would your Confidence say, if I should shew you the Man?
_Ch._ He must needs be a starveling Fellow, a meer Shadow.
_Er._ You'd say he was a Champion.
_Ch._ Nay, rather a _Polyphemus_.
_Er._ I wonder this should seem so strange to you, when there are a
great many that eat dry'd Fish instead of Bread: And some that the Roots
of Herbs serve for the same Use that Bread does us.
_Ch._ I believe you; lye on.
_Er._ I remember, I saw a Man when I was in _Italy_, that grew fat with
Sleep, without the Assistance either of Meat or Drink.
_Ch._ Fie for Shame; I can't forbear making Use of that Expression of
the Satyrist,
Tunc immensa cavi spirant mendacia folles.
Thou poeticisest. You play the Part of a Poet. I am loath to give you
the Lye.
_Er._ I am the greatest Lyar in the World, if _Pliny_, an Author of
undoubted Credit, has not written, that a Bear in fourteen Days Time
will grow wonderfully fat with nothing but Sleep: And that he will sleep
so sound, that you can scarce wake him, by wounding him: Nay, to make
you admire the more, I will add what _Theophrastus_ writes, that during
that Time, if the Flesh of the Bear be boil'd, and kept some Time, it
will come to Life again.
_Ch._ I am afraid that _Parmeno_ in _Terence_ will hardly be able to
comprehend these Things. I believe it readily. I would help you to some
Venison, if I were well enough accomplished.
_Er._ Where have you any Hunting now? How came you by Venison?
_Ch._ _Midas_, the most generous spirited Man living, and a very good
Friend of mine, sent it me for a Present; but so, that I oftentimes buy
it for less.
_Er._ How so?
_Ch._ Because I am obliged to give more to his Servants, than I could
buy it for in the Market.
_Er._ Who obliges you to that?
_Ch._ The most violent Tyrant in the World.
_Er._ Who is he?
_Ch._ Custom.
_Er._ Indeed, that Tyrant does frequently impose the most unjust Laws
upon Mankind.
_Ch._ The same Tyrant hunted this Stag, but the Day before Yesterday.
What did you do, who used to be a very great Lover of that Sport?
_Au._ Indeed I have left off that Sport, and now I hunt after nothing
but Learning.
_Ch._ In my Opinion, Learning is fleeter than any Stag.
_Au._ But I hunt chiefly with two Dogs, that is to say, with Love and
Industry: For Love affords a great Deal of Eagerness to learn, and as
the most elegant Poet says,
----_Labor improbus omnia vincit._
_Ch. Austin_, you admonish after a friendly Manner, as you use to do;
and therefore, I won't give over, nor rest, nor tire, till I attain.
_Au._ Venison is now in the Prime. _Pliny_ tells us a very admirable
Story concerning this Animal.
_Ch._ What is it, I pray you?
_Au._ That as often as they prick up their Ears, they are very quick of
Hearing; but on the contrary, when they let them down, they are deaf.
_Ch._ That very often happens to myself; for if I happen to hear a Word
spoken of receiving Guineas, there is no Body quicker of Hearing than I;
for then with _Pamphilus_ in _Terence_, I prick up my Ears; but when
there is any Mention made of paying them away, I let them down, and am
presently hard of Hearing.
_Au._ Well, I commend you; you do as you should do.
_Ch._ Would you have some of the Leg of this Hare?
_Au._ Take it yourself.
_Ch._ Or had you rather have some of the Back?
_Au._ This Creature has nothing good but its Flank and hind Legs.
_Ch._ Did you ever see a white Hare?
_Au._ Oftentimes. _Pliny_ writes, that on the _Alps_ there are white
Hares; and that it is believed in the Winter Time they feed upon Snow:
Whether it be true or no, let _Pliny_ see to that: For if Snow makes a
Hare's Skin white, it must make his Stomach white too.
_Ch._ I don't know but it may be true.
_Au._ I have something for you that is stranger than that; but it may be
you have heard of it. The same Man testifies that there is the same
Nature in all of them; that is, of Males and Females, and that the
Females do as commonly breed without the Use of the Male, as with it.
And many Persons assert the same, and especially your skilful Hunters.
_Ch._ You say right; but if you please, let us try these Rabbets, for
they are fat and tender. I would help that pretty Lady if I sat nigher
to her. _Austin_, pray take Care of that Lady that sits by you, for you
know how to please the fair Sex.
_Au._ I know what you mean, you Joker.
_Ch._ Do you love Goose?
_Au._ Ay, I love 'em mightily, and I an't very nice. I don't know what's
the Matter, but this Goose don't please me; I never saw any Thing dryer
in all my Life; it is dryer than a Pumice-Stone, or _Furius_'s Mother in
Law, upon whom _Catullus_ breaks so many Jests. I believe it is made of
Wood; And in Troth I believe 'tis an old Soldier, that has worn itself
out with being upon the Guard. They say a Goose is the most wakeful
Creature living. In Truth, if I am not out in my Guess, this Goose was
one of them, who when the Watch and their Dogs were fast asleep, in old
Time defended the _Roman_ Capitol.
_Ch._ As I hope to live I believe it was, for I believe it liv'd in that
Age.
_Au._ And this Hen was either half starv'd, or else was in love, or was
jealous; for this Sort of Creatures are much troubled with that
Distemper. This Capon fatten'd much better; see what Cares will do. If
we were to geld our _Theodoricus_, he would grow fat much the sooner.
_Th._ I an't a Cock.
_Au._ I confess you are not _Gallus Cybeles_, nor a Dunghil-Cock; but it
may be you are _Gallus Gallaceus_.
_Ch._ What Word is that?
_Au._ I leave that Word to be unriddled by you: I am _Sphinx_, and you
shall be _Oedipus_.
_Ch. Austin_, tell me truly, have you had no Conversation with _French_
Men, have you had no Affinity with them? Had you nothing to do with
them?
_Au._ None at all, indeed.
_Ch._ Then you are so much the worse.
_Au._ But perhaps I have had to do with _French_ Women.
_Ch._ Will you have any of this Goose's Liver? This was look'd upon as a
great Delicacy by the Ancients.
_Au._ I will refuse nothing that comes from your Hand.
_Ch._ You must not expect _Roman_ Dainties.
_Au._ What are they?
_Ch._ Thistles, Cockles, Tortoises, Conger-Eels, Mushrooms, Truffles,
etc.
_Au._ I had rather have a Turnip than any of them. You are liberal and
bountiful, _Christian_.
_Ch._ No Body touches these Partridges nor the Pigeons, to-Morrow is a
Fast-Day appointed by the Church; prepare against that Hunger; Ballast
your Ship against the impending Storm. War is a coming, furnish your
Belly with Provision.
_Au._ I wish you had kept that Word in, we should have risen from Supper
more merrily. You torment us before the Time.
_Ch._ Why so?
_Au._ Because I hate Fish worse than I do a Snake.
_Ch._ You are not alone.
_Au._ Who brought in this troublesome Custom?
_Ch._ Who order'd you to take Aloes, Wormwood and Scammony in Physick?
_Au._ But these Things are given to Folks that are sick.
_Ch._ So these Things are given to them that are too well. It is better
sometimes to be sick, than to be too well.
_Au._ In my Opinion the _Jews_ themselves did not labour under such a
Burden. Indeed I could easily refrain from Eels and Swines Flesh, if I
might fill my Belly with Capons and Partridges.
_Ch._ In a great many Circumstances it is not the Thing, but the Mind
that distinguishes us from _Jews_; they held their Hands from certain
Meats, as from unclean Things, that would pollute the Mind; but we,
understanding that _to the Pure, all Things are pure_, yet take away
Food from the wanton Flesh, as we do Hay from a pamper'd Horse, that it
may be more ready to hearken to the Spirit. We sometimes chastise the
immoderate Use of pleasant Things, by the Pain of Abstinence.
_Au._ I hear you; but by the same Argument, Circumcision of the Flesh
may be defended; for that moderates the Itch of Coition, and brings
Pain. If all hated Fish as bad as I do, I would scarce put a Parricide
to so much Torture.
_Ch._ Some Palates are better pleas'd with Fish than Flesh.
_Au._ Then they like those Things that please their Gluttony, but don't
make for their Health.
_Ch._ I have heard of some of the _Æsops_ and _Apitius_'s, that have
look'd upon Fish as the greatest Delicacy.
_Au._ How then do Dainties agree with Punishment?
_Ch._ Every Body han't Lampreys, Scares, and Sturgeons.
_Au._ Then it is only the poor Folks that are tormented, with whom it is
bad enough, if they were permitted to eat Flesh; and it often happens,
that when they may eat Flesh for the Church, they can't for their Purse.
_Ch._ Indeed, a very hard Injunction!
_Au._ And if the Prohibition of Flesh be turned to delicious Living to
the Rich; and if the Poor can't eat Flesh many Times, when otherwise
they might, nor can't eat Fish, because they are commonly the dearer; to
whom does the Injunction do good?
_Ch._ To all; for poor Folks may eat Cockles or Frogs, or may gnaw upon
Onions or Leeks. The middle Sort of People will make some Abatement in
their usual Provision; and though the Rich do make it an Occasion of
living deliciously, they ought to impute that to their Gluttony, and not
blame the Constitution of the Church.
_Au._ You have said very well; but for all that, to require Abstinence
from Flesh of poor Folks, who feed their Families by the Sweat of their
Brows, and live a great Way from Rivers and Lakes, is the same Thing as
to command a Famine, or rather a _Bulimia_. And if we believe _Homer_,
it is the miserablest Death in the World to be starv'd to Death.
_Ch._ So it seem'd to blind _Homer_; but with _Christians_, he is not
miserable that dies well.
_Au._ Let that be so; yet it is a very hard Thing to require any Body to
die.
_Ch._ The Popes don't prohibit the eating of Flesh with that Design, to
kill Men, but that they may be moderately afflicted if they have
transgress'd; or that taking away their pleasant Food, their Bodies may
be less fierce against the Spirit.
_Au._ The moderate Use of Flesh would effect that.
_Ch._ But in so great a Variety of Bodies certain Bounds of Flesh can't
be prescrib'd, a Kind of Food may.
_Au._ There are Fishes that yield much Aliment, and there are Sorts of
Flesh that yield but little.
_Ch._ But in general Flesh is most nourishing.
_Au._ Pray tell me, if you were to go a Journey any whither, would you
chuse a lively Horse that was a little wanton, or a diseased Horse, who
would often stumble and throw his Rider?
_Ch._ What do you mean by that?
_Au._ Because Fish-eating, by its corrupt Humours, renders the Body
liable to a great many Diseases, that it can't subserve the Spirit as it
should do.
_Ch._ To what Diseases?
_Au._ Gouts, Fevers, Leprosies, the King's-Evil.
_Ch._ How do you know?
_Au._ I believe Physicians. I had rather do so than try the Experiment.
_Ch._ Perhaps that happens to a few.
_Au._ Indeed I believe to a great many; besides, in as much as the Mind
acts by the material Organs of the Body, which are affected with good or
bad Humours, the Instruments being vitiated, it can't exert its Power as
it would.
_Ch._ I know Doctors do very much find Fault with the eating of Fish;
but our Ancestors thought otherwise, and it is our Duty to obey them.
_Au._ It was a Piece of Religion formerly not to break the Sabbath; but
for all that, it was more eligible to save a Man on the Sabbath-Day.
_Ch._ Every one consults his own Health.
_Au._ If we will obey St. _Paul, Let no Body mind his own Things, but
every one the Things of another_.
_Ch._ How come we by this new Divine at our Table? Whence comes this new
upstart Master of ours?
_Au._ Because I don't like Fishes.
_Ch._ What, then won't you abstain from Flesh?
_Au._ I do abstain, but grumblingly, and to my great Detriment too.
_Ch. Charity suffers all Things._
_Au._ It is true; but then the same requires but little. If it suffers
all Things, why won't it suffer us to eat those Meats the Gospel has
given us a Liberty to eat? Why do those Persons, from whom Christ has so
often required the Love of himself, suffer so many Bodies of Men to be
endanger'd by capital Diseases, and their Souls to be in Danger of
eternal Damnation, because of a Thing neither forbidden by _Christ_, nor
necessary in itself?
_Ch._ When Necessity requires it, the Force of a human Constitution
ceases, and the Will of the Lawgiver ceases.
_Au._ But the Offence of the Weak does not cease. The Scruple of a
tender Conscience does not cease. And lastly, it is uncertain with what
Limits that Necessity shall be bounded; shall it be when the Fish-eater
shall be a giving up the Ghost? It is too late to give Flesh to a Man
when he is dying; or shall it be when his Body becomes all feverish?
The Choice of Meats is not of so much Consequence.
_Ch._ What would you have prescrib'd then?
_Au._ I can tell well enough, if I might be allow'd to be a Dictator in
Ecclesiastical Affairs.
_Ch._ What do you mean by that?
_Au._ If I were Pope I would exhort all Persons to a perpetual Sobriety
of Life, but especially before an holy-Day; and moreover, I would give
every one leave to eat what he would, for the Health of his Body, so he
did it moderately, and with Thanksgiving; and I would endeavour that
what was abated of these Observations should be made up in the Study of
true Piety.
_Ch._ That in my Opinion is of so great Weight, that we ought to make
you Pope.
_Au._ For all your laughing, this Neck could bear a triple Crown.
_Ch._ But in the mean Time take Care that these Things be not enter'd
down in the _Sorbon_ at _Paris_.
_Au._ Nay, rather let what is said be written in Wine, as it is fit
those Things should that are said over our Cups; but we have had
Divinity enough for a Feast We are at Supper, not at the _Sorbon_.
_Ch._ Why mayn't that be call'd _Sorbon_ where we sup plentifully?
_Au._ Well, let us sup then, and not dispute, lest the _Sorbon_ be
called after us from _Sorbis_, and not from _Sorbendo_.
_CHRISTIAN, GUESTS, MIDAS, ERASMUS, the BOY, AUSTIN._
_Ch._ Well, come my kind Guests, I pray you that you would take this
little Supper in good Part, though it be but a slender one. Be merry and
good humour'd, though the Supper be but mean and slender. I, relying
upon your Familiarity, made bold to invite you; and I will assure you,
your Company and Presence is not only very grateful to me, but very
pleasant.
_Gu._ We do assure you, good _Christian_, that we esteem your Supper to
have been very pretty and noble; and we have nothing to find Fault with,
but that you make Excuses for it, for that it was very magnificent; for
indeed I look upon the Entertainment to be splendid to the greatest
degree, that in the first Place consisted of Courses agreeable to
Nature, and was season'd with Mirth, Laughter, Jokes and Witticisms,
none of which have been wanting in our Entertainment. But here is
something comes into my Mind, as to the Number of the Guests, which
_Varro_ writes, _should not be fewer than three, nor more than nine_.
For the _Graces_, who are the Presidents of Humanity and Benevolence,
are three; and the _Muses_, that are the Guides of commendable Studies,
are nine; and I see here we have ten Guests besides the Virgins.
_Au._ Nothing could happen more agreeably; we are in that something
wiser than _Varro_, for we have gotten here three pretty Maids for the
three _Graces_; and as it is not to be thought that _Apollo_ is ever
absent from the Chorus of the _Muses_, we have very much _à propos_
added the tenth Guest.
_Ch._ You have spoken very much like a Poet. If I had a Laurel here I
would crown you with it, and you should be Poet Laureat.
_Au._ If I were crown'd with Mallows, I should be Poet _Maleat_; I do
not arrogate that Honour to myself. This is an Honour that I don't
deserve.
------_Haud equidem tali me dignor honore._
_Ch._ Will you, every one of you, do as much for me as I will do for
you?
_Gu._ Ay, that we will with all our Hearts.
_Ch._ Then let every one drink off his Cup round as I do. Here's to you
first, _Midas_.
_Mi._ I thank you heartily. I pledge you heartily; for which the Vulgar
says _Præstolor_. Indeed I won't refuse. I won't refuse any Thing for
your Sake.
_Ch._ Now do you drink to the rest.
_Mi. Erasmus_, Half this Cup to you.
_Er._ I pray it may do you good. May it do you good. Much good may it do
you. _Proficiat_ is an out of the Way Word.
_Ch._ Why does the Cup stand still? Why does it not go about? Is our
Wine gone? Where are your Eyes, you Rascal? Run quickly, fetch two
Quarts of the same Wine.
_Boy. Erasmus_, your humble Servant, there is one wants to speak with
you at the Door.
_Er._ Who is it?
_Boy._ He says he is one Mr. _More_'s, Man, his Master is come out of
_Britain_, and he desires you would make him a Visit, because he sets
out for _Germany_ to-Morrow by Break of Day.
_Er. Christian_, gather the Reckoning, for I must be going.
_Ch._ The Reckoning, most learned _Erasmus_, of this Supper, I will
discharge that. You have no Need to put your Hand in your Pocket. I
thank you that you honour'd me with your Company; but I am sorry you are
called away before the Comedy is ended.
_Er._ Have I any Thing more to do but to bid you _Farewell and be
merry?_
_Ch._ Farewell, we can't take it amiss, because you don't leave a
Shoulder of Mutton for a Sheep's-Head, but go from Friends to a better
Friend.
_Er._ And I in like Manner return you my Thanks, that you have been so
kind as to invite me to this most pleasant Entertainment. My very good
Friends, fare ye well. Drink heartily, and live merrily.
_Ch._ Soho, _Dromo_. You, all of you, have sitten still a good While.
Does any Body please to have any Thing else?
_Gu._ Nothing at all. We have eat very plentifully.
_Ch._ Then take away these Things, and set on the Desert. Change the
Trenchers and the Plates. Take up my Knife that is fallen down. Pour
some Wine over the Pears. Here are some early ripe Mulberries that grew
in my own Garden.
_Gu._ They will be the better for being of your own Growth.
_Ch._ Here are some wheaten Plumbs: See, here are Damascens, a rare
Sight with us: See, here are mellow Apples; and here is a new Sort of an
Apple, the Stock of which I set with my own Hands; and Chestnuts, and
all Kinds of Delicacies, which our Gardens produce plentifully.
_Au._ But here are no Flowers.
_Ch._ They are _French_ Entertainments, who love that Sort of Splendor
most that costs least; but that is not my Humour.
_Au._ 'Tis not only among _Frenchmen_ that you will find those that love
what is of little Cost.
_Ch._ But hark you, _Austin_, do you think to come off so? What, won't
you pledge me when I drink to you? You ought to have taken off Half the
Cup of him that drank to you.
_Au._ He excused me for that a great While ago. He discharg'd me of that
Obligation.
_Ch._ Pray who gave him that Power? The Pope himself can hardly dispense
with this Obligation. You know the ancient Law of Drinking, _Either
drink or go your Way_.
_Au._ He that an Oath is made to has Power to suspend it, and especially
he, whose Concern it was to have it kept.
_Ch._ But it is the Duty of all Guests to observe Laws inviolably.
_Au._ Well, come on, since this is the _German_ Custom, I'll drink what
is left. But what Business have you with me?
_Ch._ You must pay for all. Why do you look pale? Don't be afraid, you
may do it very easily, do as you have often done, that by some Elegancy
we may rise from Table more learned; nor are you ignorant that the
Ancients over the second Course used to dispute of some more diverting
Subjects. Come on then, by what, and after how many Ways may this
Sentence be vary'd, _Indignum auditu?_
* * * * *
_It is not worth hearing. The Form._
_Au._ You have very fitly made Use of the latter Supine. It is not worth
hearing. It is unworthy to be heard. It is not worthy to be heard. It is
so light it ought not to be heard. It is scarce worth While to relate.
It is not of such Value as to be heard. It is too silly to be heard. It
is not worth While to tell it.
_Ch._ How many Ways may this Sentence be turn'd, _Magno mihi constat?_
* * * * *
_The Ratio of varying this Sentence._
_Magno mihi constat._
_Au._ By these Words, _impendo, insumo, impertio, constat_, as: I have
taken Pains much in teaching you. I have taken much Pains in that
Matter. I have not spent less Money than I have Care upon that Matter. I
have not spent a little Money, but much Time, and very much Labour, and
some Study. I have spent much Study. This Thing has cost me many a
Night's Sleep, much Sweat, much Endeavour, very much Labour, a great
Expence, a great Deal of Money. It has cost me more than you believe. My
Wife stands me in less than my Horse.
_Ch._ But what is the meaning, _Austin_, that you put sometimes an
Ablative, and sometimes a Genitive Case to the Verb _constat_?
_Au._ You have stated a very useful and very copious Question. But that
I may not be troublesome to the Company by my too much Talk, I will
dispatch it in a few Words. But I desire to hear every Man's Opinion,
that I may not be troublesome to any Man, as I have said.
_Ch._ But why may not the Damsels desire the same?
_Au._ Indeed they do nothing else but hear. I'll attempt it with
_Grammatica_'s Assistance. "You know that Verbs of buying and selling,
and some others, are of a like Signification, to which these Genitives
are put alone, without Substantives, _tanti, quanti, pluris, minoris,
tantidem, quantivis, quanticunque_: But in Case Substantives be not
added, which, if they happen to be put, they are both turned into the
Ablative Case; so that if a certain Price be set down, you put it in the
Ablative Case; if by an Adjective put substantively, you put it in the
Ablative Case, unless you had rather make Use of an Adverb."
_Ch._ What are those Verbs that you speak of?
_Au._ "They are commonly _emo, mereor; redimo_, (that is a Thing either
taken or lost) _vendo, venundo; revendo_, (that is, I sell again that
which was sold to me) _veneo_, (that is, I am sold) whose Prater Tense
is _venivi_, or _venii_, the Supine _venum_; hence comes _venalis_; and
from that, _i.e._ _vendo_, comes _vendibilis; mereo_, for _inservio et
stipendium_ _facio_, _i.e._ to serve under (as a Soldier). _Comparo_,
that is, to buy, or commit. _Computo_, I change, I exchange with.
_Cambire_ is wholly barbarous in this Sense. _Æstimo_, to tax. _Indico_,
for I estimate, rate. _Liceor, liceris; licitor, licitaris_, to cheapen,
to bid. _Distrahor_, _i.e._ I am carried about to be sold. _Metior_, for
I estimate or rate. _Constat_, for it is bought. _Conducere_, to let to
hire. _Fænero_, I put to Interest. _Fæneror_, I take at Interest (to
Usury.) _Paciscor, pactus sum pango, pepigi_, _i.e._ I make a Bargain."
_Ch._ Give an Example.
* * * * *
_Of selling and buying._
_The Forms._
_Au._ How much do you lett that Field for by the Year. We will answer.
For twenty _French_ Pounds. Whoo! You lett it too dear. Nay, I have lett
it for more before now. But I would not give so much for it. If you hire
it for less I'll be hang'd. Nay, your Neighbour _Chremes_ offer'd me a
Field, and asks for it--How much? Just as much as you ask for yours.
But it is much better. That's a Lye. I do as they use to do who cheapen
a Thing. Do you keep it yourself at that Price. What, do you cheapen,
ask the Price, when you won't buy any Thing. Whatsoever you shall lett
it me for shall be paid you very honestly.
_Of Selling and Buying._
_Another Example._
How much do you sell that Conger Eel for?
_Syra._ For five Pence. That's too much, you nasty Jade. Nay, 'tis too
little, no Body will sell you for less. Upon my Life it cost me as much
within a Trifle. You Witch, you tell a Lie, that you may sell it for
twice or three Times as much as it cost you. Ay, I'll sell it for a
hundred Times as much if I can, but I can't find such Fools. What if I
should ask the Price of yourself? What do you value yourself at?
According as I like the Person. What do you prize yourself at? What
Price do you set upon yourself? Tell me, what Price do you rate yourself
at? Ten Shillings. Whoo, so much? O strange! Do you value me at less?
Time was when I have had as much for one Night. I believe you may, but I
believe you an't now worth so much as a Fish by a great Deal. Go hang
yourself, you Pimp. I value you as little as you do me. He that shall
give a Farthing for you buys you too dear. But I'll be sold for more, or
I won't be sold at all. If you would be sold at a great Rate you must
get you a Mask, for those Wrinkles in your Forehead won't let you be
sold for much. He that won't give so much for me shan't have me. I would
not give a Straw for you. I cost more.
_A third Example._
I have been at an Auction to-Day. Say you so? I bid Money for a Share in
the Customs. But how much? Ten Thousand Pound. Whoo! what, so much?
There were those that bid a great Deal more; very few that offer'd less.
Well, and who had the Place at last? _Chremes_, your Wife's great
Friend. But guess what it was sold for. Ten. Nay, fifteen. O good God! I
would not give Half so much for him and all his Family together. But he
would give twice as much for your Wife. "Do you take Notice, that in all
these, wheresoever there is a Substantive of the Price, that is put in
the Ablative Case; but that the rest are either put in the Genitive
Case, or are changed into Adverbs. You have never heard a Comparative
without a Substantive, except in these two, _pluris_, and _minoris_.
There are some other Verbs, of which we have spoken, that are not very
much unlike these, _sum, facio, habeo, duco, æstimo, pendo_, which
signify (in a Manner) the same Thing; likewise _fio_, and they are for
the most Part join'd with these Genitives, _multi, parvi, magni, pluris,
plurimi, minoris, minimi, maximi, tanti, quanti, flocci, pili, nihili,
nauci, hujus_, and any other like them." _Ch._ Give Examples.
_Of valuing. The Form._
_Au._ Do you know how much I have always valu'd you? You will always be
made of such Account by Men as you make Account of Virtue. Gold is
valued at a great Rate now a-Days, Learning is valued at a very little,
or just nothing at all. I value Gold less than you think for. I don't
value your Threats of a Rush. I make a very little Account of your
Promises. I don't value you of a Hair. If Wisdom were but valued at so
great a Rate as Money, no Body would want Gold. With us, Gold without
Wisdom is esteem'd to be of more Worth than Wisdom without Gold. I
esteem you at a greater Rate, because you are learned. You will be the
less esteem'd on here because you don't know how to lye. Here are a
great many that will persuade you that Black is White. I set the
greater Value upon you because you love Learning. So much as you have,
so much you shall be esteem'd by all Men; so much as you have, so much
you shall be accounted of every where. It is no Matter what you are
accounted, but what you are. I value my _Christian_ above any Man else
in the World. "There are some other Verbs found with these Genitives and
Ablatives, which in their own Nature don't signify buying, or anything
like it." _Peter_ bought a Kiss of the Maid for a Shilling. Much good
may it do him. I would not kiss at that Rate. How much do you play for?
What did you pay for Supper? We read of some that have spent Six hundred
Sesterces for a Supper. But the _French_ often sup for a Half-penny.
What Price does _Faustus_ teach for? A very small Matter. But for more
than _Delius_. For how much then? For nineteen Guineas. I won't learn to
lye at so dear a Rate. _Phædria_ in _Terence_ lost both his Substance
and himself. But I would not love at that Rate. Some Persons pay a great
Price for sleeping. _Demosthenes_ had more for holding his Tongue than
others had for speaking. I pray you to take it in good Part. "There is
another Sort of Verbs, that require an Accusative Case, with a Genitive
or Ablative, which are, _accuso_, _i.e._ I object a Crime, or _culpo_,
also one that's absent; _Incuso_, _i.e._ I blame without Judgment;
_arguo_, I reprehend, _insimulo_, _i.e._ I throw in a Suspicion of a
Fault. _Postulo_, _i.e._ I require you to answer at Law, _accerso_, I
impeach, _damno_, I condemn, I pronounce him to be in Fault. _Admoneo_,
I admonish."
_Ch._ For Example Sake?
_Forms of Accusing._
_Au. Scipio_ is accused of courting the Populace. Thou who art the most
impudent, accusest me of Impudence. _Lepidus_ is accused of Bribery. You
are accus'd of a capital Crime. If you shall slily insinuate a Man to
be guilty of Covetousness, you shall hear that which is worse again. Put
him in Mind of his former Fortune. Men are put in Mind of their
Condition, by that very Word. Put _Lepidus_ in Mind of his Promise.
"There are many that admit of a double Accusative Case. I teach thee
Letters. He entreats you to pardon him. I will unteach thee those
Manners."
"Here I must put you in Mind of that Matter, that in these the Passives
also obtain a second Accusative Case. The others will have a Genitive."
You are taught Letters by me. They accuse me of Theft. I am accused of
Theft. Thou accusest me of Sacrilege. I am accused of Sacrilege. I know
you are not satisfied yet. I know you are not satisfied in Mind. For
when will so great a Glutton of Elegancies be satisfy'd? But I must have
Regard to the Company, who are not all equally diverted with these
Matters. After Supper, as we walk, we will finish what is behind, unless
you shall rather chuse to have it omitted.
_Ch._ Let it be as you say. Let us return Thanks to divine Bounty and
afterwards we'll take a little Walk.
_Mi._ You say very well, for nothing can be more pleasant, nor wholsome
than this Evening Air.
_Ch. Peter_, come hither, and take the Things away in Order, one after
the other, and fill the Glasses with Wine.
_Pe._ Do you bid me return Thanks?
_Ch._ Aye, do.
_Pe._ Had you rather it should be done in _Greek_, or in _Latin_.
_Ch._ Both Ways.
_Pe. Gratias agimus tibi, pater coelestis, qui tua ineffabili potentia
condidisti omnia, tua inscrutabili sapientia gubernas universa, tua
inexhausta bonitate cuncta pascis ac vegetas: largire filiis tuis, ut
aliquando tecum bibant in regno tuo nectar illud immortalitatis, quod
promisisti ac praeparasti vere diligentibus te, per Iesum Christum.
Amen._
We thank thee, heavenly Father, who by thy unspeakable Power, hast
created all Things, and by thy inexhaustible Wisdom governest all
Things, and by thy inexhaustible Goodness feedest and nourishest all
Things: Grant to thy Children, that they may in due Time drink with thee
in thy Kingdom, that _Nectar_ of Immortality; which thou hast promis'd
and prepar'd for those that truly love thee, through Jesus Christ,
_Amen_.
_Ch._ Say in _Greek_ too, that the rest mayn't understand what thou
sayest.
_Pe._ [Greek: Heucharistoumen soi, pater ouranie, ho tê arrêtô sou
dunamei ktisas ta panta, ho tê anexereunêtô sou sophia kubernôn
hapaxapanta, ho tê anexantlêtô sou chrêstotêti hekasta trephomenos te
kai auxanon. Charizou tois yiois sou to meta sou pote piein to tês
athanasias nektar, ho upechou kai êtoimasas tois alêthôs agapôsi se, dia
Iêsou Christou, tou yiou sou, tou kyriou hêmôn, tou meta sou zôntos kai
basileuontos en henotêti tou pneumatos hagiou, eis tous aiônas. Amên.]
_Ch._ My most welcome Guests, I give you Thanks that you have honour'd
my little Entertainment with your Company. I intreat you to accept it
kindly.
_Gu._ And we would not only have, but return our Thanks to you. Don't
let us be over ceremonious in thanking, but rather let us rise from
Table, and walk out a little.
_Au._ Let us take these Virgins along with us, so our Walk will be more
pleasant.
_Ch._ You propose very well. We'll not want Flowers, if the Place we
walk in don't afford any. Had you rather take a Turn in our Garden, in a
poetical Manner, or walk out abroad by the River-Side.
_Au._ Indeed, your Gardens are very pleasant, but keep that Pleasure for
Morning Walks. When the Sun is towards setting, Rivers afford wonderful
pleasant Prospects.
_Ch. Austin_, do you walk foremost as a Poet should do, and I'll walk by
your Side.
_Au._ O good God, what a jolly Company we have, what a Retinue have I!
_Christian_, I can't utter the Pleasure I take, I seem to be some
Nobleman.
_Ch._ Now be as good as your Word. Perform the Task you have taken upon
you.
_Au._ What is it you'd have me speak of chiefly?
_Ch._ I us'd formerly to admire many Things in _Pollio_'s Orations; but
chiefly this, that he us'd so easily, so frequently and beautifully to
turn a Sentence, which seemed not only a great Piece of Wit, but of
great Use.
_Au._ You were much in the Right on't, _Christian_, to admire that in
_Pollio_. For he seems, in this Matter, to have had a certain divine
Faculty, which I believe, was peculiar to him, by a certain Dexterity of
Art, and by much Use of Speaking, Reading and Writing, rather than by
any Rules or Instructions.
_Ch._ But I would fain have some Rule for it, if there be any to be
given.
_Au._ You say very well; and since I see you are very desirous of it,
I'll endeavour it as much as I can: And I will give those Rules, as well
as I can, which I have taken Notice of in _Pollio_'s Orations.
_Ch._ Do, I should be very glad to hear 'em.
_Au._ I am ready to do it.
* * * * *
The ARGUMENT.
_A short Rule concerning this Copia, it teaches how to
vary a Sentence pleasantly, copiously, easily,
frequently, and elegantly; by short Rules given, and by a
Praxis upon these Rules, in an elegant Turning of one
Phrase._
In the first Place, it is to be set forth in pure and choice _Latin_
Words; which to do is no mean Piece of Art: For there are a great many,
who do, I don't know after what Manner, affect the _Copia_ and Variation
of Phrase, when they don't know how to express it once right. It is not
enough for them to have babbled once, but they must render the Babble
much more babbling, by first one, and then by another turning of it; as
if they were resolv'd to try the Experiment, how barbarously they were
able to speak: And therefore, they heap together, certain simple
synonymous Words, that are so contrary one to the other, that they may
admire themselves how they do agree together. For what is more absurd,
than that a ragged old Fellow, that has not a Coat to his Back, but what
is so ragged that he may be ashamed to put it on, should every now and
then change his Rags, as though he design'd to shew his Beggary by Way
of Ostentation: And those Affectators of Variety seem equally
ridiculous, who, when they have spoken barbarously once, repeat the same
Thing much more barbarously; and then over and over again much more
unlearnedly. This is not to abound with Sentences, but Solæcisms:
Therefore, in the first Place, as I have said, the Thing is to be
express'd in apt and chosen Words. 2. And then we must use Variety of
Words, if there are any to be found, that will express the same Thing;
and there are a great many. 3. And where proper Words are wanting, then
we must use borrow'd Words, so the Way of borrowing them be modest. 4.
Where there is a Scarcity of Words, you must have Recourse to Passives,
to express what you have said by Actives; which will afford as many Ways
of Variation, as there were in the Actives. 5. And after that, if you
please, you may turn them again by verbal Nouns and Participles. 6. And
last of all, when we have chang'd Adverbs into Nouns, and Nouns
sometimes into one Part of Speech, and sometimes into another; then we
may speak by contraries. 7. We may either change affirmative Sentences
into negative, or the contrary. 8. Or, at least, what we have spoken
indicatively, we may speak interrogatively. Now for Example Sake, let us
take this Sentence.
_Literæ tuæ magnopere me delectârunt.