A QUIBBLER

Is a juggler of words, that shows tricks with them, to make them appear

what they were not meant for and serve two senses at once, like one that

plays on two Jew's trumps. He is a fencer of language, that falsifies

his blow and hits where he did not aim. He has a foolish sleight of wit

that catches at words only and lets the sense go, like the young thief

in the farce that took a purse, but gave the owner his money back again.

He is so well versed in all cases of quibble, that he knows when there

will be a blot upon a word as soon as it is out. He packs his quibbles

like a stock of cards; let him but shuffle, and cut where you will, he

will be sure to have it. He dances on a rope of sand, does the

somersault, strappado, and half-strappado with words, plays at all

manner of games with clinches, carwickets, and quibbles, and talks

under-leg. His wit is left-handed, and therefore what others mean for

right he apprehends quite contrary. All his conceptions are produced by

equivocal generation, which makes them justly esteemed but maggots. He

rings the changes upon words, and is so expert that he can tell at first

sight how many variations any number of words will bear. He talks with a

trillo, and gives his words a double relish. He had rather have them

bear two senses in vain and impertinently than one to the purpose, and

never speaks without a leer-sense. He talks nothing but equivocation and

mental reservation, and mightily affects to give a word a double stroke,

like a tennis-ball against two walls at one blow, to defeat the

expectation of his antagonist. He commonly slurs every fourth or fifth

word, and seldom fails to throw doublets. There are two sorts of

quibbling, the one with words and the other with sense, like the

rhetorician's _figurae dictionis et figurae sententiae_--the first is

already cried down, and the other as yet prevails, and is the only

elegance of our modern poets, which easy judges call easiness; but

having nothing in it but easiness, and being never used by any lasting

wit, will in wiser times fall to nothing of itself.

Character Writings of the Seventeenth Century · 第 354 / 429 题