last conclusive answer, and am resolv’d to be plagu’d with you no
longer. Hoping therefore that your worship is in good health, as your
humble servant is at this present writing, this comes to let you know
(nay don’t startle, I beseech you) that I am fairly and honestly dead
(oh! fy, Sir, why should you be discompos’d at so small a matter as that
is) in short, dead to all intents and purposes as a door-nail; or if
that won’t serve your turn, as dead as _Methusalah_, or any of the
patriarchs before the flood. And because, Sir, I am in a very good
humour at present, and somewhat dispos’d to be merry (which you’ll say
is somewhat odd in a dead man) and besides having a mighty respect for a
person of your worth and gravity, I will let you know what distemper I
dy’d of, and give you the whole history of my illness from _Dan_ to
_Beersheba_. Upon the _20th_ of _July_ last, old stile, I was invited to
a christning in a certain village in _Lincolnshire_, where I had the
honour of being vicar; and by a strange fatality was over-persuaded to
eat some custard, which is the most pernicious aliment in the world, but
especially in the dog-days. Since I have been in the _Elysian Fields_,
meeting with _Galen_ and _Dioscorides_ the other day, I told them my
case, and both of ’em told me that custard had done my business. _Galen_
whisper’d me in the ear, and told me that whatever sham stories the
historians had palm’d upon the world _Trajan_ got his death by nothing
but eating of custard at _Antioch_, and mention’d two or three other
eminent persons that had their heels tript up by that pernicious food.
_Dioscorides_ added farther, that custard was destructive of the
intellect, and conjur’d me that the next time I writ to any of my
acquaintance in _London_, I would desire them to present his most humble
service to my _Lord Mayor_ and court of _Aldermen_, and advise ’em as
from him to refrain from custard, because it obnubilated the
understanding, and was detrimental to the memory. So much by way of
digression, but now, Sir, to proceed in the history of my illness: this
eating of custard first of all gave me a cachexy, and ’twas my
misfortune that there was no brandy to be had in the house, for in all
probability a cogue of true orthodox _Nantz_, would have corrected the
crudity of the custard. This cachexy in twelve hours turn’d to a _Dolor
alvi_, that to a _Peripneumonia_ in the _Diaphragm_, and that to an
_Epyema_ in the _Glandula Pinealis_. Upon this a hundred other
distempers came pouring upon me like thunder and lightning, for you know
when a man is once going, _down with him_ is the word; that very fairly
dispatch’d me in four days, and so I dy’d without a doctor to help to
dispatch me, or an attorney to make my will. A little before I troop’d
off, I desir’d my parishoners to bury me under the great church-spout
which accordingly they did, I thank ’em for’t, and upon every shower of
rain I find a refreshment by it; for you must know that when I was
living, I was very thirsty in my nature, and abounded in adust cholerick
humours.
I believe, Sir, you might have writ to a thousand and a thousand dead
men, who would never have given themselves the trouble to answer your
letters, or have been so communicative of their secrets as you have
found me; but, Sir, I scorn to act under-board. And if this don’t
satisfy all your doubts, I can only wish I had you here with me, to give
you farther conviction.
And now Sir, let me desire you to put your hand to your heart, and
consider calmly and sedately with yourself, whether it be not illegal as
well as barbarous, to disturb the repose of the dead, and persecute them
in their very graves? You that are so full of your _Cases_ and your
_Precedents_, tell me what _Case_ or _Precedent_ you can alledge to
justify so unrighteous a _Procedure_? Is it not a known maxim in law,
that death puts a stop to all _Processes_ whatsoever, and that when a
man has once paid the great debt of nature, he has compounded for all
the rest? How then can you make me amends for the injuries you have done
me, and the great charges you have put me to? For upon the faith and
honour of a dead man, the very passage of your letters to this
subterranean world, has cost me above five pounds, the pretended sum you
charge me with. However, if Heaven will forgive you, for my part I do;
and to show you, that after so many horrid provocations I am still in
charity with you, I remain,
_Your defunct Friend and Servant_,
Q. Z.
Feb. 5. _From the_
Elysian-Fields.
P. S. _All the news that I can send you from this part of the world, is,
that we are troubled with none of your pofession here, which is no small
part of our happiness, I assure you; and, upon a strict enquiry, I find,
that not one_ Attorney _for these 1500 years, has been so impudent, as
to give St._ Peter _the trouble of using his keys_.
The End of the _Letters_ from the DEAD to the LIVING.
Dialogues of the DEAD.
In Imitation of _LUCIAN_.
The Scene HELL.
_The Trial of_ CUCKOLDS.
_Lucifer._ Hold! porter, shut the gates of this our angust court, that
we may not be thus throng’d. Let no more come in, ’till we have clear’d
the bench of these numbers we have before us already.
_Porter._ Mighty emperor, your commands shall be obey’d.
_Lucif._ Now, my noble lords, set we ourselves to search and examine
what of late years brings daily such gluts and spring-tides of souls to
our infernal mansions, ’specially at this time, when neither war,
famine, nor plague, are abroad in the upper world, or at least in that
part of it from whence I observe most of this gang arrive; _Europe_ I
mean: if there were war, ’twould be no wonder so many were damn’d; the
liberties of the sword surprize enough in their sins to throng our
courts of justice: nor is the plague without advantages for us that way;
the few that have spiritual relief, in such contagious and
quickly-destroying distempers, encrease our crop: and the general
cruelty of mankind is such, that in famine, those that have will keep
for themselves and their dogs, and let the rest of their own species
perish, without so much as a pitying look: and this makes many atheists
in their wants, and does that, without our instigation, which we could
not perswade _Job_ to do, that is, _Curse God, and die_.
But, my lords, when none of these, our loyal vassals, are abroad, ’tis
not strange that I am to seek in the cause of this great concourse at
our tribunal; and, therefore, that virtue, for want of reward and due
praise, may not slacken, we will examine to what industrious friend we
owe this unexpected success; wherefore, you minor devils and
under-officers of our court, bring them in order to the bar, and let no
devil of honour, that has past that inferior office of touching the
uncleanness of humanity, defile himself with too near an approach to any
of them.
[_Here several lacquey-devils and porter-devils, with the rest of
the mob of hell, bring on the first band to the bar in_ Italian
_garbs_.]
Speak, criminal, whence thou art? Of what nation, quality, or condition
in the world? And what’s the happy cause of thy coming hither?
_Ghost._ First, Signor, adjust some points in dispute, which highly
concern the honour of our country, and the decorum of good breeding, and
I shall, for all this noble train that follow me, answer to your
devilship’s queries. Coming to the confines of your flourishing empire,
we were met by some of the officers of this honourable assembly, who
gave us safe conduct to your royal presence: but just now, entring into
these lifts, confronted us a company of paltry scoundrels, and press’d
for precedence, swearing, That they were _Englishmen_, and ought to take
place of all that were damn’d for cuckolds. We urg’d our title in
heraldry, that we ought to take place of all nations, being the
successors of the once masters of the universe; but they were deaf to
reason here, as well as in the world, and one swore _d--me_, _bl--d_ and
_z--ns_, another, oaths all round the compass; and in this volly of
mouth-grenadoes, one very demure gentleman press’d, by _Yea_ and _Nay_,
that we were in the wrong; and had it not been for this honourable devil
here, that’s a friend to our nation, we had been worm’d out of our
birth-right by the arse and refuse of the world: _Et penitus toto
divisos orbe Britannos_, as our noble country-man has it, Dogs shut out
of doors from all the rest of mankind. I therefore appeal to this thrice
excellent senate, and you the _right and most reverend doge_, to redress
this affront.
_Lucif._ Hey-day? What, has not hell yet brought you to your senses,
that you can think we devils are such sots to trouble our heads about
the ridiculous whims of ceremonious mankind? But since they were so
obstreperous to make a disturbance in hell, they shall be the last
heard: Therefore proceed to the question.
_Ghost._ An’t please your thrice puissant devilship, noble signor, I was
coming to that point: Therefore, to be brief, (for I hate prolixity) I
am, Sir, an _Italian_ by nation, and a noble-man by quality. My own
vanity, and ill chance, give me a pretty wife, and my honour made me
chuse her of an illustrious house; but she prov’d lewd and prodigal, the
natural issue of beauty and high birth; my dotage on her charms hath
bred in me such a fond, blind, uxorious vice (which my countrymen are
seldom guilty of) that I was almost ruin’d before I found I was
betray’d: but travelling towards _Genoa_, I met the spark, my pretended
friend, on the road to my dwelling; I seemingly pass’d on my way, but in
the night return’d, unexpected, and surpriz’d ’em all, and, therefore,
as my honour bid me, I murder’d him, and bak’d him in a pye, and
(ingeniously in my revenge) swore she should eat no other food but her
lover: the crust she a while did eat, but one day, having prepar’d a
_stelleto_, at supper she dispatch’d me thus to your thrice noble and
illustrious devilship.
_Lucif._ Very well! and worthy thou art of such a punishment, that
could’st not forgive beauty a gentle slip of that nature thou thyself
hadst so often transgress’d. Speak the next.
_2 Ghost._ I am also an _Italian_; and observing a gentleman often
ogling my wife, which she did not a little encourage, I sent a _bravo_
to dispatch him; (for we _Italians_ do not love to look revenge in the
face ourselves) but the rogue of a _bravo_, won by my wife, and by a
great sum of money of my adversary’s, comes back to me, and cuts my
throat. And this, most noble signor, is most of our cases; our wives
have given us the casting throw for damnation.
_Lucif._ You, the rest of the malignant train, is this true, that your
wives have sent you hither?
_Omnes._ Yes, yes; we have all had wives.---- All the plagues of _Egypt_
let us undergo, but no wives, we most humbly beseech your most noble
devilship.
_Lucif._ Prayers are in vain; transgressions are to be punish’d by the
same way they are committed; nor must you be your own carvers here in
hell, gentlemen. Away with ’em, down into cuckolds-cave, ten thousand
fathom deeper than the whore-masters, and next the keeping-cullies, _and
let each have two wives to torment him_.
_Omnes._ O wives! wives!
[_They are removed off, and others brought on._
_Lucif._ Proceed to the next band.
Say, what were you in the world, and what dear sin brought you to this
place?
_Spanish Ghost._ Great prince of darkness, and lord of the greatest part
of mankind, may it please your catholick majesty, I was, by my worldly
state and condition, a _Spanish_ grandee, of the first magnitude, rich
as fortune and an indulgent prince well could make me, (for your
devilship must know, our king is but a sheep for us to fleece when we
please, which we do in all places, letting his soldiers and inferior
servants starve) happy, ’till too much success was my undoing; for by
that I gain’d the lady I lov’d, and so in one unhappy word was married.
’Tis tedious to repeat the injuries I receiv’d from the ungrateful fair,
who, after all, to make room for another, sent me away (like an
_Italian_ as she was) in all my sins, with a poisonous draught.
_Lucif._ Is the same your fate, you, the rest of this besotted crew,
that have met with just punishment from one part of yourselves, for
preferring your private grandeur before the service of your king and
honour of your country?
_Omnes._ Yes, yes; thirst of honour and wealth made us cheat the king;
and drew down the judgment of wedlock; and that brought us to this long
home and fiend of matrimony.
_Lucif._ Away with these, and drive ’em out of their snails pace.
[_A tatter’d Ghost comes forward._
_Ghost._ Just may be their punishment, most noble devil; but why should
I be condemn’d to wincing, who was so far from cheating the king, that I
could never get my due of him, and being a gentleman born, never did
any thing below my extraction, and have gone without a meal, many a
time, rather than degrade myself to get one? And tho’ I could arrive to
it no other ways, yet kept up my part still in stately walk, and my
wallet, tho’ I had no bread for either, or a shirt to my back.
_Lucif._ Since thy own folly made thee marry, ’tis now too late to
prate, you must away with the rest.
[_They are carry’d off, and others brought on._
Bring the next to the bar: declare the cause of your deserv’d damnation.
My life on’t these dapper sparks are in for cakes and ale too; the very
air of their faces speaks them cuckolds.
_French Ghost._ Sire, may it please your most victorious majesty,
_Vostre Esclaro_ is a _Frenchman_ by birth, and a leader of the most
christian king’s most magnanimous forces; and whilst I, with my
commilitones, was reaping lawrels in the field of renown, and engaging
the enemy abroad, my lady wife (as most of our _French_ wives will, for
having once tasted the sweets of love, they’ll ne’er have done ’till
they have undone us one way or other) my lady wife, I say, was engaging
with a friend at home, who very genteely gave her the pox, which I, at
my return, like a gay cavalier of a husband, receiv’d of her as genteely
without rebuke, it being no matter of scandal with us. But
madamoiselle’s pox proving a very _virago_, gave me damn’d thrust in
_quarto_, and sent me hither in _decimo sexto_, _monseigneur_.
_Lucif._ You, the rest, speak.
_Omnes._ We are all _Frenchmen_, and therefore you need not doubt the
cause, the pox and our wives, _ma foy_.
_Lucif._ Away with them: they’ll make a fire by themselves, or will
serve instead of small-coal to kindle others; for they are half burnt
out already. Place ’em next the _Spaniards_. The next there speak.
[_They are carry’d off, more brought on._
_German Ghost._ I am, by nation, a _German_, and, by damnation, a
husband, a cuckold, or what you please; for I hate to mince the matter
with a long preamble, when a word to the wise is enough.
_Lucif._ Very well; you, the rest, speak.
_Omnes._ Ev’n so, an’t please your imperial devilship; whilst we drank
and fought against the _Turks_, our wives whor’d with the _Christians_.
O wives! wives!
_Lucif._ Away with these into the hottest, for their carcasses are so
soak’d with liquor, that they’ll put out an ordinary fire. You, the
next, speak.
[_They are carry’d off, others brought on._
_Dutch Ghost._ Gads sacrament, I am a member, or rather two members, of
the _Hogen-Mogen_ common-wealth of _Europe_. Two members, I say; for I
am a member governed, and a member governing; for the people with us,
and in all such common-wealths, are both subjects and masters, govern
laws, and govern’d by the same.
_Lucif._ Your country’s name then is contradiction. Is it not?
_Ghost._ Contradiction to monarchy, tho’ set up by some monarchs to
spite others. But to your question, old tarpaulin: Whilst I was getting
money and drinking punch and brandy, to hearten me for the noble combats
of snick or snee, or some illustrious sea-fight, or some generous
undertaking at the island of _Formosa_, (for a true _Dutchman_ never
fights without his head full of brandy) my wife made it fly like
_sooterkins_ at home; at last she made me turn bankrupt, and cheat my
creditors, and so dying, I came with a full sail and brisk gale into
your port.
_Lucif._ You, the rest, speak.
_Omnes._ For our wives, O _Sooterkin Hagan_, our wives, whose
broad-built bulk the boisterous billows bear.
_Lucif._ Away with them into the den of anarchy and confusion, below the
founders of _Babel_.
[_They are carry’d off, and abundance of_ English _bands come
forward_.
_Lucif._ Numerous crew! answer me; What has brought you into this
kingdom; and what were you in the world?
[_A ghost of a beau speaks to another of the same feather._
_1 Beau’s Gh._ D---- me, _Jack_, didst ever hear so silly and
impertinent a question? As if marriage was not the only cause of
damnation.
[_Aside._
_2 Beau’s Gh._ R----t me, _Ned_, as thou say’st, I never heard a
country justice ask more _mal à propos_; but the devil’s an ass, and so
let him pass.
_The first of the first band answers the Devil._
I am an _Englishman_, who, after I had been a notorious cuckold, was
perswaded by my wife to fight the man that made me so, and was fairly
kill’d for satisfaction, as all this band that follows me were; and we
are damn’d for _fools_ as well as _cuckolds_.
_Omnes._ ’Tis true, _honour_ and _wedlock_ have been our ruin.
_Lucif._ Away with them into _fools paradise_, below the
keeping-cullies, as the more _unpardonable monsters_.
[_They are carry’d off, and as the next come in,
the Beaux speak._
_1 Be. Gh._ D---- me, _Ned_, didst ever know such fools as they, that
could not be satisfy’d to live _cuckolds_, but must die so too, with a
witness,
[_Aside_.
_2 Be. Gh._ R----t me, _Jack_, if ever I was of that fighting humour;
nor did I ever fight but once, and then forc’d to it; but my _stays_
sav’d my life, and I wore my glove that was cut in the encounter as long
as ’twould hang on my hand: therefore, tho’ I knew Sir _Roger Allfight_
kiss’d my _wife_, yet as long as I could sup at the _Rose_, and break
the drawer’s head if he made not haste, or brought _bad wines_, or so,
’gad I let him kiss her and welcome.
[_Aside._
_1 Be. Gh._ S----k me, _Ned_, I was always of thy mind, as long as I
could flutter abroad in my glass coach, have my diamond snuff-box full
of _Orangeree_ or _Roderigo_, _&c._ D---- me if I car’d a rush who rode
in my saddle. But mark that formal coxcomb now going to speak: lord! how
fine a thing it is to be a man of wit, and what a singular figure he
makes! but hark, old grey-beard begins.
_Lucif._ Speak you the next.
_Ghost._ I was a man of quality, of the same country; but my fortune
being, in my youth, run out, in _France_ for breeding, and in _England_
by keeping, I thought in my riper years to retrieve all by marrying a
_city heiress_; but she had by nature, so much of the mother in her,
that by intriguing and equipage she soon brought me into a worse
condition than before: so that, as my last refuge, I was forc’d to turn
_Plotter_, and being discover’d, was lopp’d shorter by the head, as all
this honourable tribe that follows me were.
_Lucif._ Away with ’em. [_They are carry’d off, and, as the next are
bringing to the bar, the beaux discourse again._
_1 Beau. Gh._ D--me, _Ned_, this was a worse fool than the other.
_2 Beau. Gh._ R--t me, _Jack_, _vous avez raison_: for I always lov’d to
keep myself out of the _jeopardy of action_: _Jack_, I’d talk treason,
or so; sort myself with the disaffected, and blow up the coals of their
_discontent_, or so: but for _engagements, covenants, conditions, and
unlawful assemblies_, ’gad they must pardon me.
[_Aside._
_1 Beau. Gh._ Z--ns, _Ned_, thou and I were always one man; I could rail
at the magistrates, pen a lampoon, or, at least, convey it to _Julian_,
give penny pies to the mob to make a noise, ridicule the transactions of
the government, and give squinting reflections on the king, that was my
_ne plus ultra_; for all that I can see, we are in the best case still,
_Ned_. But now our band advances, let us press forward, or our cause may
fail.
[_Aside._
_2 Beau. Gh._ Hell and damnation, all’s lost; for look yonder, that
conceited coxcomb, my lord _Flippant_, presuming on his quality, has
taken upon him to be our chief, and spokes-man.
[_Aside._
_1 Beau. Gh._ S--nk me, _Ned_, so say I: I never knew a conceited man,
but he was a fool; but let’s hear, we may put in an appeal, or a writ of
error afterward, or award judgment, if our cause be ill handled.
[_Aside._
O! what an admirable thing it is to be a man of parts!
_Luc._ Speak, thou fluttering fool, for the rest of this thy
peacock-gang.
_L. Flippant’s Ghost._ D--me, Sir, I have been a man of the town, or
rather a man of wit, and have been confess’d a beau, and admitted into
the family of the rakehellonians: and, d--me, Sir, I think I am much
under that dilemma at present.---- I was learn’d in the ingenious art of
dumfounding; a wit I said, dear devil, I was, and it lay as a
gentleman’s shou’d, most in lewdness and atheism. I married in jest, or
a frolick, which you please; but as I thought a fortune, (got by
cullies) I was made a cuckold in earnest; tho’ that was no grievance to
me, since it only made me in the mode: nor cou’d I expect any better,
since I knew she was a whore before I had her; but ’twas with my
betters, and so I was contented her money should pass currant with me,
where her reputation would not: but sharping was her best quality, and
gaming her greatest patrimony; and she set up a basset table, and
whilst I was at the groom-porter’s throwing _a-main_, she would be sure
to set me, at home, a pair of horns. I seldom coming to my apartment,
but I met some cully nobleman or other; but that which was worst, she
still had a knave in her mouth, or an alpue in her tail, that carry’d
away all the gain: whilst I was at _Will_’s coffee-house, fast’ned in
controversy or poetick rhapsodies, though I had neither religion nor
learning, she was sure of me ’till play-time and then too; for at five,
come, _Dick_, says I (to a brother of the orange and cravat string)
d--me, let’s us to the play: r--t me, says he, ’tis a dull one: d--me,
says I, I value not the play, my province lies in the boxes, ogling my
half-crown away, or running from side-box to side-box, to the inviting
incognito’s in black faces, or else wittily to cry out aloud in the pit,
_&c._ _Bough_, or _Boyta_, and then be prettily answer’d by the rest of
the wits in the same note, like musical instruments tuned to the same
pitch. And whilst I was thus generously employ’d, my consort had her
retreat of quality, to be provided of what I fail’d in. From the play to
the _Rose_, where we drank ’till four, or break of day; from thence to
bed, where we lay ’till four or five again, so _in infinitum_.
_1 Beau. Gh._ D--me, _Jack_, did’st ever hear a sot spoil a good tale in
the telling so?
_2 Beau. Gh._ Z--ns, _Ned_, we’re undone thro’ this scoundrel’s
ignorance and nonsense: shall I speak?
_1 Beau. Gh._ R--t me, if thou wilt, thou may’st: but I am sure I could
make more of it: for tho’ thou art a man of wit, and a good judge of
poetry, and all that, r--t me, _Jack_, oratory is thy blind side.
_2 Beau. Gh._ D--me, Sir, don’t put upon your friends; for have I been
bred at the university, and think myself as good a judge as you or any
man alive: and, Sir, were we out of the court, I believe you would not
thus have abus’d me.
_1 Beau. Gh._ Nay, D--me, _Ned_, now thou art unjust to thy friend: r--t
me, to quarrel for’t, I acknowledg’d thee a man of parts, _Ned_, and all
that.
_Luc._ Away with the gay sots, and because I have no plagues in hell
equal to their deserts, let them be a torment to one another. Away with
them. [_As they go off, the Beaus discourse._
_1 Beau. Gh._ Well, _Ned_, shall I speak before it is too late: you may
depend on my excellence in oratory, ’tis my talent; I never writ
billet-deux in my life, but it prevail’d with the cruel nymph: and do
you think I can’t with the devil? I’ll perswade him out of his seven
senses, man? d--me, I’ll make it appear to him that he is a god, and all
that, man: r--t me, _Ned_, be not obstinate.
_2 Beau. Gh._ Z--ns, Sir, no more of that strain. Sir, you’re a coxcomb.
What doubt my universal parts?
_Luc._ You with such a busy face, speak, what are you?
_Here abundance of Cits, in various dresses, come forward._
_Cit. Ghost._ An’t please your infernal majesty, I was a right
worshipful citizen of _London_, that famous _Metropolis_ of _England_,
and I have born all the honourable employments of the same, ev’n to
sheriff and lord-mayor: I was long of the court of aldermen, and one of
the chief spokesmen of the common-council: I made speeches, and penn’d
most of the addresses. But ’tis not for being a cuckold alone, or that I
was feign to cheat so many to maintain my wife’s pride and luxury, that
I am damn’d with this right worshipful crew here; for those are crimes
common to the rest of our brother-citizens, as well as us; but we were
so mad to marry second wives, and for their sakes turn our children out
of doors, (after we had bred them up in all the ease and luxury of the
age) to seek their fortunes in the wide world, and left our estates to
our wives at our death, who will be sure to bestow them on some silly
hectoring spendthrift bully of _Alsatia_ or other, and let the children,
begot of our own bodies, starve.
_Luc._ Away with that rank gang of fools, as well as knaves, who cou’d
so much forget nature and its necessary and known laws, as to cast off
their own off-spring, to give away their substance to those that will
not only misuse it, but contemn the memory of them that were their
benefactors, with so great an injury to nature.
_2 Cit._ May it please your most noble devilship to hear me, before you
give judgment upon us, and I don’t doubt, but I shall seriously, offer
such reasons of our behaviour in that matter, as shall sufficiently move
that ignominy your devilship was pleas’d to cast upon us. First, then,
tho’ it be true, that upon my marriage, I agreed with my second spouse
to turn all my children out of doors, yet I did it not ’till she or I
had found some cause so to do; for some of them were undutiful, and
others put tricks upon me, (as my good wife said) and others were lewd
and extravagant, and some self-will’d; so that I deserted none of ’em
without some fault. If they were undutiful, was I to blame to punish ’em
for it? Or was it my duty to keep and maintain them, after they were of
sufficient bigness to prog for themselves? The birds and beasts take
care of their young no longer, than ’till they are able to care for
themselves; and why should man be confin’d to more severe laws in that
point than his vassal creatures? I must profess, on the word of a
citizen, that I can see no reason why a man that gets his estate
himself, may not give it away to whom he pleases; and none so and near
deserving, as the wife of one’s bosom. What tho’ she may have slips, the
witcheries and temptations of love are great to their soft sex; and if
we have been so employ’d in getting, that we could not mind that other
business, why should we blame them for easing us by other supplies,
where we wanted power to give them.
_Luc._ Thou hast spoken as much to the purpose, as when in the world
thou used harangue at the choice of a sheriff; and therefore I shall
proceed to a singular punishment for you. Your argument of punishing
your children for their undutifulness, turns here on your own head; for
when they are little, you encourage their impudence: and that is a witty
child with you, that can prate saucily and lewdly before he can read,
and swear and catch the maid by it before seven years old; and then when
you have given them their head without controul, during their childhood
and minority, you punish them for the fruit of that tree which
yourselves have planted, which is in itself the height of injustice; but
on the contrary, you are condemn’d for breaking the laws of your maker,
which you were bred in fear of, and taught to obey; and you that could
punish your own flesh and blood so for nothing, without relenting, have
a just judgment for being punish’d here without mercy. And as for their
being lewd and extravagant, that is no plea for you, since that is the
lesson you have taught ’em both by example and precept, from the time of
their birth, ’till their coming to years of understanding; for you let a
taylor’s daughter, with you, go in the garb of the children of a duke
in the country, and even miss ketch be call’d away from the mob: your
sons must keep their horses, and their whores too, before they know the
use of either; and then you punish them for persevering when they are
better skill’d. And as for the birds and beasts, (examples I think
unworthy to be follow’d by a nobler being, or quoted as a precedent)
they are so far excelling you in that point, that they educate their
young in the simple course of nature, not elevating them above what’s
necessary, nor leaving them, ’till they have sufficiently inur’d them to
provide for themselves all that nature requires. But just contrary to
the example you quote, you, all the infancy of your children, keep them
from hardship and knowing how to live and provide for themselves, and
then on the sudden cast them out of their nest unfledg’d, without
teaching them to fly. Nor is your proud supposition, that you may
dispose of your own gettings, more pious or justifiable, unless you will
make your selves gods, and claim the propriety of that which you cannot
carry out of the world with you, no more than you brought it in. ’Twas
heaven that gave success to your endeavours, to provide for those other
blessings it bestow’d upon you, of fine hopeful children; and you were,
in right, but their tenant for life, to improve your substance for their
good. Nor can you in reason imagine any one deserves it better; for
justice and reason both will have it, that you that begot them into the
world without their seeking or desires, to satisfy your own pleasures,
ought to provide all you can for them that you brought thus
involuntarily into the maze of fortune and the treachery of mankind. And
of all in the world, you have the least reason to leave it to a wife,
that not only betrays the rights of your bed, prostituting herself and
your honour to rascals; but shew’d at first so little respect and love
for you, as to desire so unreasonable a thing, that you should cast off
all the bonds of nature, and forsake your own children, which she could
not but love, if she lov’d you: for you know the proverb, _love me, love
my dog_. Having thus therefore shewn the villainy of your crimes, ’tis
fit I proceed to your just punishment, for which you are sent hither.
You that have thus more than monstrously prevaricated against nature,
shall want all the benefits of nature; fire you shall have, but not to
give you gentle warmth from the cold of the season, (as when you liv’d
and hugg’d yourself in all epicurism, whilst your children starv’d) but
to scorch your wretched consciences; and continual fears of burning your
goods, houses, and writings, shall attend you; to which shall be added
the piercing fire of jealousy, that shall prey upon every part of you;
nor shall you be without the knowledge of your wives transactions on
earth and see how they mourn in sack and claret, and how they marry and
whore before you are cold; how they spend that profusely, which you
scrap’d together to give them, with so much injustice to your poor
orphans, whose injuries shall never let you rest, but with all the fury
of hell for ever torment you worse than _Onan_ or the _Sodomites_: away
with them, whose villainies raises a horror, even in the prince of hell
and great source of wickedness.
[_As they are going off, two Quakers ghosts speak._
_1 Quaker’s Ghost._ Ah! um!--_Josiah!_ verily, who would have thought
that _Rebecca_ would have fallen with the ungodly so, or that your
_Tabitha_ would have let the spirit move her to play with the calves of
_Bethel_, the wicked of _Sidon_, or the profane children of _Moloch_?
_2 Ghost._ By yea and by nay, _Abadoniah_, as thou say’st, it was more
verily than could enter into the heart of man to believe. Why, there was
my neighbour _Sad-face_, and my cousin _Goggle_, _Nahu_, _Sneakphir_,
and [_The lord said unto_ Moses, _praise God_.] was his fore-name; had
they not holy sisters, as to the appearance of the flesh, for their
spouses? Yet behold with them, and within the tabernacles of their
mansions, instead of raising up seed to the lord among the chosen and
godly, they did sacrifice to _Baal_ with the giants of _Moab_. Oh
_Abadoniah_! what a falling off was there! what a backsliding!
_1 Ghost._ Oh, _Josiah_! As thou say’st, verily, and by yea and by nay,
that the spirit should move us to come to the devil for our necessaries,
without a convenience. But our lord will remember our captivity in
_Babylon_.
_The lawyers push forward, and speak very urgently._
_Lawyer’s Ghost._ Sure, my lord, if the _Decorum_ of any place ought to
be kept, that of a court of judgment ought, and not to let a paultry cit
speak before a man of the robe. But in these popish times, all law is
neglected, and all its honourable professors contemn’d and postpon’d.
However, my most honourable lord and patron of all that were black, I
shall humbly move this honourable court, that I may at length be heard,
since my cause is of so great import and concern, and in which the
wisdom of this court will be highly interessed, if it should be brought
in _Billa vera_; and it wou’d too much reflect on the impartiality of
this court of judicature, to be slack in indagating into a cause of this
weight and moment. My lord, before I open, I shall only premise, that I
take this to be the high court of equity. Which granted, I shall begin
to open.
I will confess, that the statutes in _Banco Regis_ may prevail, and
custom in the common-pleas; but humbly presume, with submission to your
lordships, that this being a court of equity, it will give the [57]
devil his due. But, my lord, where a precedent of the like nature may
happen in a case decided by the great council of the nation, I hope it
will not be foreign, if I alledge it here where it has nothing to do.
The case is parallel, as I may say, my lord, considering the
circumstances; that is, in short, _Consideratis Considerandis_, in
_primo Henrici primi_, according to my lord _Coke_ upon _Littleton_; and
if your lordship will let us read, you shall find so many gross errors
in the bill, and the material objections so fully answer’d, and costs,
if not charges and damages. But, my lord, I do humbly suppose, that part
of this bill ought rather to have been put into an indictment, and so
falls not under the cognizance of this court; and that is, my lord, that
we are made _Felo’s de se_, the causes of our own damnation, by an
instrument call’d a wife, value two-pence. Therefore, my lord, if you
please, let us try it upon a jury in any county your lordship shall
think fit. Tho’, I think, in our case, your lordship may decide it
without farther trouble; for thus I prove the [58] negative, (hoping
your lordship will let me bring in a writ of error). To deny, my lord,
that we are damn’d, wou’d be perfect nonsense, and against all form of
law; yet that we are damn’d for our wives, I presume, does not follow.
And I will prove, that it does not, so undeniably, to all that have any
profound insight into the law, that I question not but your lordship
will acquiesce _Nemine Contradicente_; for tho’ it be,
_Mark, brothers, how I will puzzle the devil, and all his learned bench
with one turn, one notable quirk; mind it well._
_Aside to the other lawyers Ghosts that follow him, they look on
one another, rejoicing, and hugging themselves._
[_Aloud_] For tho’ I say it be true, that our wives spend a great deal
of money on our clerks, _Et cætera, quæ nunc perscribere longum est_,
and cuckolded us as often as they pleas’d, in spite of our teeth; and
though I will not deny that they were as profuse as _Heliogabalus_, or
_Caligula_, and as proud as _Lucifer_, (with submission to your
lordship) yet (now comes the paradox) yet, I say, (pray mind this) _we
did not get money to maintain their_ luxury, _but they maintain’d their_
luxury _out of the money that we got_: which, I humbly conceive, falls
not under the same predicament, but brings us within the act of _Habeas
Corpus_, that we may not be carry’d away into the den of ordinary
cuckolds. For, to give your lordship yet a more lively representation of
this matter in question, be pleas’d to reflect on another very pertinent
precedent in my lord _Coke_, where _John-a-Noakes_ is tenant only for
life, and _John-a Stiles_ tenant in tail----
_Luc._ Heyday! what, is it _Midsummer_-moon with mankind? what have we
got here! a cuckold hornmad, prating nonsense, and salving his knavery
and folly with a quirk in law, a turn of a sentence? those shams won’t
take here, where there needs no fee for counsel, nor bribe for judgment.
Away with him and his villainous tribe.
_Lawyer’s Ghost._ Nay, but, my lord, I humbly move your honour, that we
may not be condemn’d, _Causa indicta_, that is not right or equitable:
wherefore I beseech your lordship to have some regard to me, as I am a
barrister of thirty years standing, and a serjeant of ten, that you
wou’d be pleas’d to reflect, that tho’ I cheated the ignorant, and
squeez’d and impos’d on the necessitous.--
_Luc._ Has not hell yet brought thee to thy senses? Away with this
impertinent fellow, and all this black gang, among the rest of the most
deprav’d cuckolds, but in the most deepest cavern, for whom they shall
plead, _in Forma Pauperis_, till their lungs crack, without fees; let
the
[Illustration: _The Poets Hell describ’d._
_Voll. IV. p. 321._
]
writings of their ill got estates be for their food. Scoundrels, that
had no more sense, than after they had cheated so many wise and honest
men, to suffer themselves to be abus’d by women! away with them, away
with them.
_Lawyer._ As to that, my lord, I always fetch’d my dear home in her
coach from her gallant, who had pawn’d her in a tavern.----
_Luc._ Away with them I say; what, am I not obey’d!
_As they are carry’d off, they cry_, O tempora! O mores!
* * * * *
_Luc._ Who art thou, with so precise a grimace?
_A Parson’s Ghost._ I was in the world above, most mighty king, of the
reverend crew, and having a handsom wife, as most of us love, who was
proud, as they generally are, my benefice (tho’ good) was too small to
maintain the grandeur she affected; but I being of a good comely port,
with a pair of broad shoulders, and sufficient abilities, and the man of
God too boot, (which made an easy and open way for all the rest) I
ventur’d to crack a commandment with some of my wealthy parishioners
wives, that they being so oblig’d, (according to my text) might prevail
with their husbands to be the more generous to me in supererrogatory
offerings, which flow’d all into the bottomless bag of my spouse’s pride
and lust; for that too, must be supply’d.
[_They are carry’d off._
_Luc._ You, the rest of this mad foolish crew, what are you? And what
the cause of your damnation?
Poet’s Ghost.
_Quis Talia fando_
_Myrmidonum, Dolopúmve, aut duri Miles Ulyssi_
_Temperet à Lacrymis?_
Ha! brothers of the quill, what fate for us remains!
But death, or worse than death, inglorious chains.
_Luc._ What ragged regiment are you that lag behind your fellows? what
are you the black-guard of the cuckolds?
_Poet._ No, royal _Pluto_, no, (altho’, indeed, we are the poorest
cuckolds that come hither, I believe) we are of the learned rout.
_We have on_ PARNASSUS _slept,_
_And in the sacred stream_
_(To guild our amorous theam)_
_Of_ HELICON _our pens have dipt._
_And thro’_ AVERNUS _and black_ STYX
_By which to swear_
_The Gods do fear,_
_We hither slipt;_
_And fairly bilked old_ CHARON
_As we were wont to do of yore_
_Poor_ HACK, _or_ CHAIR-MAN,
_Or our half-starv’d whore._
_Wherefore, O Sir_ PLUTO,
_Since we cannot bilk you too_.----
_Luc._ Hold, hold I know your tribe of old; if you once get to repeating
your works, or into the jingle of your rhimes, you’ll never have done.
Away with them to old _Sternhold_ and _Hopkins_, and the rest of the
crambo-sparks: ye senseless scoundrels, that make wives of your mules
when single, and whores of your wives when marry’d.
Poet.
_O passi graviora!_----
_Solamen miseris, socios habuisse dolorum._
_Luc._ Clear the court, and let no more come in: the fatigue of this
sitting has been enough: for my part, the follies of mankind are such,
that the very hearing of them has quite turn’d my stomach for this month
at least.
_Porter_. Great Sir, here is a throng of wild _Irish_, that will take no
denial, but thrust in whether we will or no.
_Irish_. Nay, nay, my deer joy, chreest bless the sweet majestees faash
indeed; poor _Teague_ is St. _Patrick_’s own country-man, be chreest,
and poor _Teague_ will come into St. _Patrick_’s purgatory; and if there
be no vacancee, indeed thee must make a vacancee.
_Porter._ Nay, but this is hell, and not St. _Patrick_’s purgatory:
therefore keep back.
_Irish._ Boo! boo, boo, boo, boo, hoo, hoo! hell indeed! say’st thou mee
deer joy! be mee shoul, and bee chreest and St. _Patrick_, ee was think
that hee that was in the highway to hell, cou’d not miss St. _Patrick_’s
purgatory, since there is but a wall betwixt them.
_Porter_. Ouns, stand back, or I’ll send you back to the _Boyne_, ye
impudent pultroons you.
_Irish._ Boo, hoo, ooo: bless the sweet faash of thee indeed, poor
_Teague_ will have patience ’till his good grace will let him in indeed.
[_A noise without._
_Lucif._ What noise is that without?
_Porter._ Here is a troop of _Scots_ that swear and stare to get in, and
beg they may but skulk into some cold corner of hell, (which they wou’d
not know from their own country above) with their _Ganymedes_, from the
fury of their wives, whom they hear are just following them at their
heels. And then here is some thousands more from _Asia_, _Africa_, and
_America_, push’d on with the same fear: but I’ll keep them here in the
_Lobby_, ’till your infernal majesty is more at leisure.
_Lucif._ Do so,--for the horrid nauseousness of these sots have almost
put me into a fit of vomiting and looseness. And now, my lords and
gentlemen, that have given your attendance at this court, you may depart
’till farther orders; but tendering my health, both for your sakes and
my own, I shall confer the office of my deputy on our right reverend and
well-belov’d cousin _Belzebub_, prince of the _Flies_; for I am unable
to undergo this fatigue any more.
_Belzebub._ I humbly beg your majesty wou’d excuse my age, and give me
my _quietus_. Here is prince _Satan_, an able and active devil, and
worthy your choice.
_Satan._ Good prince _Belzebub_, you might have spar’d your good word;
for I shall beg to be excus’d, if my former services may be respected;
for I had enough of mankind when I tempted _Eve_, she foil’d me so at my
own weapon; therefore I hope your majesty will confer that troublesome
employment on some devil of less quality than myself.
_Lucif._ So be it then, and let the mob of hell make choice of one, for
I am resolv’d to trouble myself no more about them. But before we rise,
let proclamation be made of a general play-day and jubilee for all the
lesser and laborious rank of devils, who have been thus long continually
employ’d in damning mankind; let them take their ease as long as
matrimony prevails above; for now our business is much better done by
woman to our hands: Or if any are so zealously inclin’d to be still busy
for the good of their country, let them employ their time and talents to
better purpose than formerly, in perswading the easy world against
cœlibacy, by stigmatizing all that affect it with the name of whores,
rogues, and hypocrites; and if that prevails, we gain our point, and
widow’d Heaven may bid good-night to mankind. For if we get them into
our noose, we may be sure of our purchase. Let none therefore loyter
away his time in tempting the marry’d; for one woman will out-do a
legion of you.
_For since their grandame_ Eve _in_ Eden _fell,_
_The_ sex _has learnt the damning trade so well,_
_Where e’er that rules, there’s little need of hell_.
[Illustration]
_The Belgic_ HERO _Unmask’d_;
IN A
DIALOGUE
BETWEEN
Sir _Walter Rawleigh_ and _Aaron Smith_.
Sir _Walter_. Hold thy impertinent tongue, I say, thou everlasting
babbler, or----
_Smith._ Come, come, we lawyers are not so easily silenc’d as you think.
Liberty of speech is one of the eldest branches of _magna charta_;
therefore I will once more maintain it, before all the world, that the
reign of my late _Batavian_ master, was in every respect equal to that
of the famous _Elizabeth_.
Sir _Walter_. Not that is’t worth my while to enter the list with such a
petty-fogging dog as thou art, or the cause in debate admits any manner
of parallel: but since thou hast the impudence to defend so monstrous a
paradox before all this company, inform us what noble things this hero
has perform’d, to deserve all that nauseous idle flattery, which hardly
none but _Sectarists_, _Deists_, _Republicans_, and particularly the
rascals of thy kidney, when he was alive, conspir’d to give him.
_Smith._ Why, in the first place, he deliver’d _England_, then just upon
the brink of being devour’d by arbitrary power and popery. He won the
noble battle of the _Boyne_, reduc’d _Ireland_, appeas’d the disorders
of _Scotland_, reap’d a new harvest of glory every campaign in
_Flanders_, and at last, after an obstinate expensive war, forc’d a
haughty tyrant, who had insulted and bully’d the whole christian world
for almost forty years, to clap up a peace with him upon his own terms
at _Ryswick_, by which he was oblig’d to vomit up numberless provinces
and towns, which he had dishonourably stollen from their true
proprietors.
Sir _Walter_. And as for his personal qualities, what have you to say of
them?
_Smith._ Whether you behold him at home or abroad, in the cabinet or the
field; in fine, whether you consider him as a king, a general, a
statesman, a husband, or a master, you’ll find his character uniformly
bright in all these relative stations: affectionate to his queen,
merciful to his subjects, liberal to his servants, careful of his
soldiers, and providing, by his great wisdom, against all future
contingencies that might hereafter disturb the tranquillity of _Europe_.
But as for his munificence to his servants and favourities, I may
venture to say, that few princes in history ever went so far as he.
Sir _Walter_. This last clause is not so great a commendation to him as
you imagine.--Well, and is this all, for I wou’d not willingly interrupt
you, ’till you have gone the full length of your panegyrick?
_Smith._ ’Tis all I think needful to say upon the occasion, and enough,
in my opinion, to establish his reputation to to all succeeding ages.
Sir _Walter_. Let us carefully examine the several particulars; and when
we have so done, we shall be able to determine on what side the truth
lies--_Imprimis_, you tell me he deliver’d _England_ from tyranny and
popish superstition: but was there no other way of accomplishing his
deliverance, but by sending a certain relation to grass, and wounding
the monarchy in so tender a part, which had suffer’d so terribly in the
late unnatural rebellion of 41? If what one of the ancient fathers says,
be true, that the whole world is not worth the saving, at the expence of
a single lye, surely _Great Britain_, which makes so small a part of the
universe, hardly deserv’d to be deliver’d from an imaginary ruin with so
much perjury, infidelity, and ingratitude. Besides, he solemnly
protested in his declaration, that he had no intention to make himself
king, yet he excercis’d the regal power the very moment he landed: so
that unless there had been a crown in the case, I am afraid he would
hardly have cross’d the water to rescue the church of _England_.
_Smith._ This is indeed what his enemies and some envious people have
objected to him.
Sir _Walter_. Nothing of that can be laid to my charge, who was never
known to your hero either _Beneficio_ or _Injuria_; but as I still
preserve an invincible affection for my native country, my zeal for the
welfare of that, makes me assume this freedom. To be plain with you
then, I can hardly believe he had any extraordinary concern for the
prosperity of _England_, upon whom he threw the greatest burden of the
war; whose troops he suffer’d to fight without their pay, in _Flanders_,
at the same time when a parcel of unworthy foreigners had store of gold
and silver in their pockets. Neither can any man perswade me he had the
least affection for the royal family, from which he was descended, who
suffer’d such numberless invectives and libels to be publish’d against
his royal grandfather, both his uncles, and, in short, the whole family
of the _Stuarts_, yet never call’d any of the authors or printers to an
account for’t during the whole course of his reign.
_Smith._ Aye, but a hero, you know, has other business to mind, than the
_bagatelles_ of the press.
Sir _Walter_. And yet this hero could condescend to mind these
_bagatelles_, as you call them, with a witness, whenever they were
levell’d against himself or his favourites. But to proceed,--can any one
in his senses believe, that this deliverer ever set the monarchy and
true constitution of _England_ to heart, under whose reign all the
democratical treatises, both of this and the last age, were not only
publish’d with impunity, but the abettors of such villainous doctrine,
thought the only persons that were in the true interest of the nation,
and deserving to be preferr’d? Was _England_ so utterly destitute of
able generals, that a regicide, proscrib’d by act of parliament, must be
sent for over to head our forces in _Ireland_?
_Smith._ You’ll never leave off harping upon this string.
Sir _Walter_. And lastly, have we not very violent reasons to suspect,
that he never had any true hearty concern for the protestant interest,
whatever he pretended to the contrary, who so notoriously sacrific’d it
at the treaty of _Ryswick_; who, to enable him to carry on the late
revolution against his uncle and father-in-law, enter’d into a league;
one of the first articles of which, was, to oblige the king of _France_
to do justice to the usurpations of the _Roman_ see? And lastly, who, if
he had no aversion, had certainly no affection for the church of
_England_, the support, as well as ornament of the whole reformation,
which evidently appear’d by his bestowing its best preferments upon
_illos quos pingere nola_, a sett of moderate lukewarm gentlemen, that
were willing (good men) to throw up the constitution, whenever their
enemies should ask them the question. What shall I say of others, that
were advanc’d for no other merit, but because they had been justly
punish’d in former reigns for their seditious practices, or descended
from _Oliverian_ parents; or lastly, because they held antimonarchical
and antihierarchical doctrine, both in pulpit and press, which they
honestly call’d free-thinking?
_Smith._ Nay, this is mere calumny; for can any thing but the blackest
envy presume: to attack him upon the score of religion?
Sir _Walter_. For once I’ll spare his religion, yet ’tis certain his
ministers had not the least tincture of it. To the eternal honour of his
reign, be it observ’d, all the _Socinian_ treatises that stole into the
world in the late accursed times of licentiousness and disorder, were
fairly reprinted, and these, together with the modern improvements of
_Deism_, fold in the face of the sun, without the least check or
discountenance from any at the helm: ’twas come to that pitch at last,
that a man might better call the divinity of our Saviour into question,
than the legality of that revolution; and safer insult the ashes of king
_James_ the 1st, _Charles the martyr_, and the whole royal line, than
attack such a lew’d, perjur’d, infamous scoundrel as _Oates_. ’Tis a
general maxim, that the court always steers its course _ad Exemplum
Cæsaris_; and that a shrewd guess may be made of a prince’s morals, by
those of his ministers. If this observation holds good, a man would find
himself strangely tempted to say some rash things of your monarch, which
good manners and decency oblige me to pass over in silence.
_Smith._ But still you say nothing of _Ireland_.
Sir _Walter_. Far be it from me to do detract in the least from any
man’s actions: But this, I think, I may affirm, without the least
suspicion of malice, that the exploit of the _Boyne_, every thing
consider’d, is not altogether so miraculous as his flattering divines
and courtiers would represent it; for, after all, where was the wonder,
that a well-disciplin’d regular army should defeat an unfortunate
dispirited monarch, with none but a few raw, unpractis’d, naked troops
about him? and then his giving the forfeited estates there to his
minions, in open contradiction to what he had promised the parliament,
does not seem to argue so great a concern for keeping his word. As for
_Scotland_, the subversion of episcopacy, and murder of the
_Glencow-men_, (not to mention the perpetuating of the convention,
during his whole reign, and by that means depriving the country of
electing proper members) will, I believe, look so frightful in future
story, that few of your heroe’s flatterers will mention the
administration of that kingdom to his credit.
_Smith._ Well then, but _Fanders_?
Sir _Walter_. I thank you for reminding me of it. I am of opinion then,
that, bating _Namure_, he might have put all the glorious harvests he
yearly reap’d there, into his eye, and not have prejudic’d his royal
sight in the least. However, as I know full well what a mighty advantage
one powerful prince, that commands by his own single authority, has over
a many-headed confederacy, where all are commanders I scorn to insist
upon this point. For this reason I will not enumerate, nor enlarge upon
the constant ill success that everlastingly attended him in _Flanders_,
but come to the peace of _Ryswick_, which was his own proper act and
deed. And here ’tis worth our observing, that by his leaving the poor
emperor in the lurch, the city of _Strasburg_ unluckily continu’d in the
_French_ hands; and that either out of want of politicks or a zeal for
their religion, he made no stipulations for the _German Protestants_,
nor took the least care to have them restor’d to those churches, of
which they had been unjustly dispossess’d in the war.
_Smith._ Well, but necessity, you know, may make a man sometimes act
contrary to his inclination.
Sir _Walter_. Why then did his parasites give out, That he was the
controller of the peace, and forc’d the _French_ king to accept of it
upon his own terms.--But not to mention a thousand other things that
might be said upon this occasion, for I begin to grow weary of the
subject, to stop my mouth for good and all, and convince thee how far
superior in all the arts of governing the immortal _Elizabeth_ was to
thy _taciturn Hero_, I’ll first give thee a short sketch of her golden
reign, and afterwards honestly and impartially shew thee a prospect of
the other:
_Smith._ With all my heart, proceed.
Sir _Walter_. As my mistress had a true _English_ heart, and made the
prosperity of her people the only business of her life, she suffer’d
none of her ministers to crave to themselves extravagant fortunes out of
the publick purse. Tho’ foreigners flock’d into her dominions as a
certain asylum, yet she never encourag’d them to the detriment of her
native subjects, nor imploy’d them in foreign embassies, nor admitted
them into her councils: her affairs being manag’d with equal prudence
and integrity, and encouragements properly distributed, no wonder she
was so fortunate in all her attempts. Thus we find she supported the
protestants in _France_ against the oppression of the _Guises_, and so
well assisted the _Dutch_ in the infancy of their republick, that
_Philip_ II of _Spain_, with all his forces, was not able to reduce
them. She was so far from bellowing her royal favours upon the
sectaries, that she suppress’d their growing insolence with wholesome
laws, and was as careful to see them put in Execution. She could display
all her father’s magnificence, when there was a proper occasion to exert
it; at other times, she observ’d a strict parsimony, equally
advantageous to her own subjects, and easy to herself. The establish’d
church flourish’d so well under her auspicious administration, that
_England_ never saw so glorious a constellation of reverend bishops and
learned divines, as in her reign. She retrieved the honour of the
_Exchequer_, and manag’d her payments so wisely, that her people thought
their money as safe in her coffers as in their own.---- Now, your
deliverer’s reign was the exact reverse of this happy scene. Schism and
faction advanc’d, hypocrisy and dulness, under the disguise of
reformation, promoted to the highest honours, deism propagated, the true
genuine sons of the church discourag’d, foreigners admitted into our
private councils, trade neglected, our narrow seas daily insulted, the
publick impoverish’d, the treasury exhausted and pillag’d by insatiable
cormorants, the reputation of our arms decay’d and sunk, the sea-man
starv’d, the soldiers paid with paper; in short, nothing but ill
management and poverty at home, and infamy abroad.---- And this I think
is sufficient to shew you, that you were mightily mistaken, when you
compar’d you know who to the immortal _Elizabeth_.
_The End of the Second Volume._
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] _Kings of_ Spain.
[2] _Author of_ St. Bartholomew_’s_.
[3] _Madam_ Maintenon.
[4] Scarron.
[5] _Maintenon._
[6] _Madam_ Maintenon.
[7] _Madam_ Maintenon.
[8] _Father_ la Chaise.
[9] _The murderer of_ Henry IV.
[10] Grandvil _hang’d in_ Flanders, _for attempting to kill King_
William.
[11] _King_ William.
[12] Lewis XIV.
[13] _A place out of the reach of cannon._
[14] Scarron.
[15] _Great houses near_ Paris.
[16] Hermitage _near_ Paris.
[17] _Queen_ Catharine _of_ Spain.
[18] _Father_ Pahours, _Father_ le Mene, _Jesuits_.
[19] Charles V.
[20] _Madam_ Maintenon.
[21] Scarron.
[22] _Madam_ Maintenon _was born in_ Martineco.
[23] Don Carlos.
[24] Elizabeth _of_ France.
[25] Don John _of_ Austria.
[26] _The two Royal Houses of_ France _and_ Spain.
[27] _Credo pudicitiam Saturno rege moratam._
[28] _Monks._
[29] _Two ancient poets._
[30] _Two modern poets._
[31] _Madam_ Maintenon.
[32] _A_ French _poet, whom_ Boileau _makes free with in his first
satire, and elsewhere_.
[33] _Madam_ la Valiere.
[34] _Madam_ de Fontagne.
[35] _Madam_ de Montespan.
[36] _The nuns of St._ Cyril.
[37] West-Indies.
[38] _The Nunnery of St._ Cyril.
[39] _Madam_ Maintenon.
[40] _The voluminous author of_ Cleopatra.
[41] _He means the late King_ James.
[42] _A_ French _Proverb for_ no conscience.
[43] England.
[44] _Dr._ B----re.
[45] _Stanzas of_ Nostradamus.
[46] _Madam_ Maintenon.
[47] _Madam_ Maintenon.
[48] _Madam_ Montespan.
[49] _A proverb in_ French _for a fat large monk or abbot_. Cochon _is_
French _for a hog_.
[50] _Pulpit._
[51] _The quire._
[52] _Kitchen._
[53] _Bawdy-house._
[54] More commonly call’d with us _Boileau_.
[55] The taking down the image of our Saviour, and setting up the
_French_ king’s in the room of it, occasioned this distich,
_Abstulit hinc Iesum, posuitque insignia regis_
_Impia gens; alium non habet illa Deum._
[56] Over the door of the great hall of the _Invalides_, he is drawn
guiding the chariot of the sun, with beams of glory round his head,
and a thunderbolt in his hand, the four quarters of the world kneeling
before him in a very humble posture, and the motto is, _Je plais a
tous_.
[57] _The devil laughs every now and then._
[58] _The devils all laugh at his negative proof._
Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:
have his his fortune told=> have his fortune told {pg 3}
love’s little tabernacle’s=> love’s little tabernacles {pg 5}
which antient historians tells us=> which antient historians tell us {pg
5}
was going to say to say something=> was going to say something {pg 10}
be pimp to noblemens=> be pimp to noblemen’s {pg 16}
should be excedingly beholden=> should be exceedingly beholden {pg 17}
whenevever my circumstances=> whenever my circumstances {pg 34}
continually tormented with with=> continually tormented with {pg 36}
that abominable dedegree=> that abominable degree {pg 43}
poor under-tradesmens families=> poor under-tradesmen’s families {pg 46}
that set set him to work=> that set him to work {pg 55}
in so dubious and enterprize?=> in so dubious an enterprize? {pg 56}
If I am not now dispossessed=> if I am not now dispossessed {pg 58}
mens consciences=> men’s consciences {pg 61}
your your fame is infinite=> your fame is infinite {pg 61}
I re-entred=> I re-entered {pg 86}
charm’d with with the conversation=> charm’d with the conversation {pg
89}
licentiousuess reign’d=> licentiousness reign’d {pg 90}
knowing my inlinations=> knowing my inclinations {pg 100}
as it is as present> as it is at present {pg 103}
more especiolly=> more especially {pg 106}
the lusciour morsels=> the luscious morsels {pg 106}
his farher, had quite another=> his father, had quite another {pg 117}
two bunchis a penny=> two bunches a penny {pg 122}
from flesh and dbloo=> from flesh and blood {pg 124}
you may them judge=> you may then judge {pg 125}
where it possible=> were it possible {pg 141}
of the famale fern=> of the female fern {pg 144}
courtiers and and not me=> courtiers and not me {pg 146}
by the hogshhead=> by the hogshead {pg 149}
and pentensions=> and pretensions {pg 155}
their cheifest delight=> their chiefest delight {pg 156}
listen to this trembling lays=> listen to his trembling lays {pg 159}
thar the king=> that the king {pg 159}
Isarelites=> Israelites {pg 161}
all affairs are keep in motion=> all affairs are kept in motion {pg 161}
spill your tobacco, break your gasses=> spill your tobacco, break your
glasses {pg 163}
character of gurantees=> character of guarantees {pg 165}
sheding of blood=> shedding of blood {pg 168}
sieges aftewards=> sieges afterwards {pg 168}
covetuous lechers=> covetous lechers {pg 168}
of a a republick=> of a republick {pg 172}
even that unparalled=> even that unparalleled {pg 174}
ambassador’s at the Port=> ambassadors at the Port {pg 174}
confounded at his disapment=> confounded at his disappointment {pg 174}
at such blaspemous=> at such blasphemous {pg 175}
indeed we we are=> indeed we are {pg 178}
Think we, we here’s=> Think we, here’s {pg 188}
preceiving, exercised=> perceiving, exercised {pg 189}
wits every foolishly=> wits very foolishly {pg 190}
enquiry with with his=> enquiry with his {pg 190}
if I had deen=> if I had been {pg 195}
set my set my wits=> set my wits {pg 196}
lie heave=> lie heavy {pg 200}
so to tell you the truth=> So to tell you the truth {pg 213}
crushed them them into=> crushed them into {pg 216}
some women were masks=> some women wear masks {pg 221}
and and leave=> and leave {pg 223}
loathsome goal=> loathsome gaol {pg 223}
were lawn coversluts=> wear lawn coversluts {pg 224}
were blue and yellow=> wear blue and yellow {pg 224}
food were silken ornaments=> food wear silken ornaments {pg 224}
women were turrets=> women wear turrets {pg 225}
and and I long=> and I long {pg 233}
if any dody had=> if any body had {pg 236}
your are sensible=> you are sensible {pg 236}
make yor rich=> make you rich {pg 240}
am heartly resolv’d=> am heartily resolv’d {pg 242}
in in the time=> in the time {pg 244}
empty cupboad=> empty cupboard {pg 245}
run up and dow muttering=> run up and down muttering {pg 247}
reputation fron stinking=> reputation from stinking {pg 251}
few maxims in famale=> few maxims in female {pg 255}
Itailan=> Italian {pg 270}
Philosophers bodies=> Philosophers’ bodies {pg 271}
but espcially the=> but especially the {pg 278}
Charles Sidly=> Charles Sidley {pg 278}
Chancer=> Chaucer {pg 279}
scur’d by a brace=> secur’d by a brace {pg 283}
it order to make me a=> in order to make me a {pg 283}
meaning of that world=> meaning of that word {pg 294}
aversus equss TYRIA=> aversus equoss TYRIA {pg 295}
glass or or two=> glass or two {pg 299}
and when he has it in her pocket=> and when she has it in her pocket {pg
301}
speaks to a another=> speaks to another {pg 311}
mam of wit=> man of wit {pg 312}
I do humby suppose=> I do humbly suppose {pg 319}
great deal of mony=> great deal of money {pg 320}
Partick’s purgatory=> Patrick’s purgatory {pg 322}