A young curate, with more pertness than wit or learning, being
asked in company, how he came to take it into his head to enter
into the ministry of the church? Because, said he, the Lord hath
need of me. That may be, replied George, who was present, for I
have often heard that the Lord had once need of an ass.
After this, George being sent with the British ambassador into
Italy, by the way of Paris; and as they were viewing the beautiful
statues, and large buildings of that spacious city: the King, and
many of his nobles in company, as they were walking through the
King’s garden, among the images of the saints, they came to the
image of the virgin Mary, who stood in a melancholy posture with
the babe in her arms, one of the noblemen says to the British
ambassador, don’t you think but she looks as she were angry? O yes,
says George, she’s angry when she sees Englishmen and Frenchmen in
friendship and unity one with another. No, no, said the French king
she loves nothing better than the reconciliation of enemies; peace
and unity is her delight. Then George gets in below the statue, and
looks up; O, says George, I know what is the matter now, some body
has driven a great nail in her arse, I see the head of it sticking
out, it would vex any living be’s a piece of wood. At this the king
was greatly enraged against George for saying so, for calling her
a piece of wood; and nothing would satisfy the King, unless that
George would fall down and worship the Virgin Mary, and crave mercy
of her for the blasphemous reproaches wherewith he hath reproached
her. Then George cries out, O may it please your majesty to omit
it at this time, I dare not look her in the face, she frowns on
me with such an angry countenance, this dutiful command of your’s
must be delayed until I return from Italy, and then I shall fulfill
your demand, in paying all dutiful respects and worship unto her,
according to what she is. So here the ambassador stood bound for
George, that he should perform this piece of worship at his return,
according to the king’s pleasure.
Now, during their stay in Italy, they chanced to be in a nobleman’s
house where they kept but few servants, because of a spirit that
did haunt the house for the space of 200 years before that time, so
that no servant could work any kind of labour in or about the house
for it, except cooks, for what they vulgarly called a Brownie, it
did all itself, and would suffer no fellow labourer to work along
with it. On the next morning, George got up pretty early, called
for water to wash himself; then directly comes the Brownie with a
bason of water in the one hand, and a clean cloth in the other.
George perceiving him having such a pale ghostly countenance, not
to be an earthly creature said, of what nation art thou? To which
it answered in Galic or Earse, a countryman of yours, Sir. The
ambassador smiled, and joked George, telling him, it was a devil,
and how could it be a countryman of his? O, says George, I’ll
show you the contrary of that, for the devil dare not stay in our
country, George having washed himself, it came again to take away
the bason and water; then says George, and how long is it since
you left your own country? About 250 years ago, says it. Then
certainly, says he, thou art a devil, and not an earthly creature.
To which he answered,
I am what I am, and a Christian too.
Then I am what I am to conjure you. (says George.)
He taking a handful of water, and throwing it on the old withered
face of it, repeating the form of the words of baptism of Earse;
saying, if thou be a Christian, thou art old enough now to be
baptized. No sooner had he done this, but it went off weeping and
crying, O! let never a rogue put trust in his countryman after
me. Now, says George, I told you the devil dare not stay in my
country, nor yet look a Scotsman in the face in his own. Why, says
the Italian lord, do you imagine, that this is the devil’s own
country? It appears so says George, for he is the oldest residenter
in it I know; but my lord, said he, and if it please your grace, I
think the clergymen are very scant in this country, when you have
kept the devil so long for a chaplain. The nobleman unto this gave
no answer, but expressed his sorrow to be very great for the loss
of his Brownie.
Now the ambassador having done his business in Italy they returned
homeward, and on their way, the ambassador began to question George
how he thought to escape Paris without committing idolatry. No, no,
says George, I never did worship any image, nor never shall; but
I shall make them worship the worst that is in my guts. No sooner
were they arrived in Paris, but George leaves the ambassador,
and goes directly to the Virgin Mary, jumps in over the rail to
the holy ground (as they termed it) whereon she stood, where few
durst go but priests and friars; and there he loosed his breeches,
and made such a groaning, easing himself, that he was heard at a
distance by the priests and friars who were walking near by, and
they perceiving this heinous abomination, ran upon him like a
pack of hounds, and carried him before the cardinals and Father
confessors, where he was allowed to speak for himself, which he did
as follows--May it please your most excellent Worships to hear my
reasons, before you pronounce my sentence to be put in execution
against me. It was my fortune to be passing through this city a few
months ago, with the British ambassador, on our way to Italy; and
one day being walking in the kings garden in presence of the king,
and many of his nobles, who can bear witness to the truth of the
same; I being ignorant of your traditions and rites of religion,
foolishly offended, reproaching the Virgin Mary to her face; and
ever since she has plagued me with a boundness in my belly, that I
have voided nothing but clean hach; so now on my return I went and
implored her to open my fundament, and she has done so; I being
overjoyed at the miraculous healing, in getting passage in her
presence, I left it as a memorial of the miracle in that place.
When hearing this, they all with one consent, lifted up their hands
and blessed the Virgin Mary for the wonderful miracle she had done;
and ordered George to go about his business, and declare unto all
what was done, to him by the holy Virgin, for the confirmation of
their religion. So all the devout Romans came to view his dung, and
worship over it; the king himself kneeled down, and worshipped,
bowing his body over it, in presence of many people; and also
caused a holy day to be observed thro’ all his dominions, for the
miraculous cure.
Now George being a long time absent from Britain, he thought to
go and visit the king and his court in disguise. He meeting with
an old man driving two old horses, loaded with coals to sell.
George here makes a bargain with the old man, for the loan of his
clothes, his horses and coals, whip, and every thing to complete
him as a real coal-driver; so away he goes in this dress, until
he came before the king’s palace, where he began to cry with an
audible voice, Buy coals, buy coals; better buy than borrow.
Now the king being in company with his young chaplain, who was
a foundling, none knew his original, and had been suffered and
educated out of charity by the king’s father, yet he was become
as proud as lucifer, and as proud in his own conceit as the king
himself. Now, the king knowing George’s voice, tho’ he was in a
coalman’s dress, desired the chaplain to ask the coalman why he
called so loud, making such a terrible noise. The chaplain opened
the window, and with great airs called unto him, You, Sir, why do
you cry so for? Why, says George, I cry for people to come and buy
my coals, and give me money for them; but what do you cry for?
What, sir, says the young priest, I cry for you to hold your peace.
Then, says George, come here then, and cry for me, and go sell my
coals, and I will hold my peace. Sell my coals, says the priest,
do you know unto whom you speak? Yes, I do know, says George, but
you do not. What are you? says the priest; I am a mortal, and so
are you, says George. What is your father’s name, since you will
not tell your own? says the priest: You may go ask that at my
mother, says George, for I was not sufficient when she got me to
know him. What, says the priest, do you not know your own father?
I know my mother, and my mother did know my father, says George,
and that is sufficient, and more than you can say, perhaps. The
priest thinking he was coming too near him, thought to put him
off with a scriptural question, by asking him, If he knew who
was Melchizedec’s father? Indeed, master priest, says George,
Melchizedec’s descent was not counted, neither is yours, then who
can declare your generation? The priest, at this answer, would
stand the argument no longer, but closed the window in great haste,
while the king, and all who knew the priest to be a foundling, were
like to split their sides laughing; so George went off with his
coals, and the priest became more humble than he was, formerly, for
he thought that every body knew who he was, when the coalman knew
so well.
One night after this, an English ’squire, who profess’d to be
better versed in poetry than George, laid a wager with another
gentleman, five guineas against one, that George could not metre
the first words he would say to him in the morning, when newly
awaked out of his sleep: so the gentleman went the night before,
and told George the story, and bade him be on his guard, for in
the morning they would certainly come, and that right early. At
midnight and you will, says George, I’ll order my servant to let
you in. So the English ’squire sat up all night conferring with his
friends, whether to put a high verse to him, or mean and simple
words, thinking George would be sitting up all night meditating on
an answer; so they all agreed, that mean and simple words he would
not be thinking on, and have no answer provided for such. Then
away they came in the morning very early, with several gentlemen
in company to hear the diversion. George’s servant opened the door
according to his master’s orders. The ’squire entered the room
first, and wakened George out of his sleep, then said,
Rise up you madman, and put on your cloathes.
To which George answered,
O thou hast lost thy wad man, for I’m none of those.
The English ’squire confessed he was fairly beat, and would match
him with no more. Then another gentleman would hold five guineas,
that he would give him a word or line, that he could not metre at
the first answer; and to answer it directly as soon as he had done
speaking; but George ordered him first to table the money, and then
to proceed, which he did in all haste; and said as follows:
My belly rumbl’d, and then I farted.
George gripping to the money, answered,
A fool and his money is soon parted.
Then they all cried out, he was fairly beat, and what George had
said, was realy true; but he never would lay any more wagers
concerning poetry.
After this George got a letter from a bishop, telling him, that he
was coming to visit him, and take dinner with him in his lodging;
George sent an answer, that he would wait upon his lordship at the
day appointed; but well did George know, it was not for any love
he had unto him, he was coming to visit him, but to spy fairlies;
therefore he thought he should give him something to talk about.
So George sent his servant to a bookseller’s shop to buy a dozen
of small pamphlets, about a halfpenny a piece; such as a groat’s
worth of wit for a penny, the history of the king and the cobler,
and such pieces as these; taking all his own books away, and
putting the pamphlets in their place, which he presented to the
bishop, when he asked for a sight of his library. What, says the
bishop, have you no more books but these? No more, says George, but
my bible; just no more. O! says the bishop, I wonder how you can
either speak plain, or write a perfect sentence, when you have no
other books than these. O! says George, do you think that I am a
clergyman, to borrow other men’s sermons to beautify my works: no,
no, not I: all that I write I dite, I meditate out of my own brain.
This check concerning borrowing put the bishop in a cold sweat,
yet he concealed his passion. Then George called to his servant,
if dinner was ready yet? to which he answered, Come, master, come,
the pot is on the boil, get out the meal pock: then George came
into the room where his servant was, and set the bishop at the one
side of the fire, and sat down on the other himself, while his
servant made a great bowl full of milk brose, and set them between
the bishop and George; then George desired his lordship to ask a
blessing to what they were to receive, the bishop did not know
what he meaned by a blessing, it not being usual for the English
to do so, asked at George what it was? But George took up a great
ram horn spoon, and put it in the bishop’s hand, saying, There it
is, my lord. What, says the bishop, call you that a blessing? we
call that a spoon. O my lord, says George, it is the best blessing
you can ask, if you do not come empty. Well, says the bishop, and
how do you call that scalded meal? says George, we call it Scots
brose. O! said the bishop, I cannot eat it. O! says he, the thing
we cannot eat we sup, my lord, since you are in a Scotsman’s house,
you must partake of a Scotsman’s victuals. Then says the bishop,
I always thought the Scots lived well till now; I would not be
a Scotsman for the world. O said George, if a Scotsman live but
twenty years, and get but nineteen years meat, he cannot be badly
off. What, not badly off, and want a year’s victuals? said the
bishop; upon my word of honour, if I wanted one days victuals, I’d
be sure to die the next. O, says George, we drink water when we
cannot do better, and that puts us in remembrance of wealth; for
a dish of contentment is good cheer. Then, said the bishop, I’ll
drink water too if it be good for the memory. Ay do; said George,
and you’ll remember me when you do so. Now, after dinner, the
bishop took his leave of George, and desired him next day to come
and dine with him.