The Comical History OF FRANCION, WHEREIN The variety of Vices that abuse the Ages are Satyrically limn'd in their Native Colours. Interwoven with many pleasant Events, and Moral Lessons, as well fitted for the entertainment of the Gravest Head, as the Lightest Heart.
By Monsieur De Moulines, Sieur DE PARC, a LORAIN Gentleman.
Done into English by a Person of Honor.
LONDON, Printed for Francis Leach, and are to be sold by Richard Lowndes at the White Lion, near the little North door of Pauls, 1655.
TO FRANCION,
TO whom more fitly could I dedicate your History, than to your self? It would be an Injury unto you, to present it to any other; for, if it be requisite that it must be referred to one of Judgement, who is there that can be found more able to do it than your self, who know all the rules that ought to be observed in well Writing? I shall acknowledge my self more glorious to receive [...]ur approbation, than if I had the praises of all the People. I am afraid nevertheless, if you are pleased to be a severe Judge, that I shall not be altogeth [...] exempted from Blame. I make no doubt, but, if you had been pleased as well t [...] take the pains to commit your own Adventures unto writing, as you were so [...]etimes contented by your own voice to represent them to me, you would every [...]y have farr surpassed that which I have done; but I desire not to enter into c [...]mparisons with you. It shall suffice me, if you will take notice, that in this P [...]ce I have laboured with as much Zeal and Care as was possible for me. If I h [...]ve assumed the boldnesse to touch upon those things, which, peradventure, may s [...]m not to pertain unto you, it is, because that you your self have given me that [...]erty, and because I was unwilling to let pass this occasion to testifie my love [...]nto you, fearing that it would be made use of by some other. It is true, that [...]or a long time you have resisted my Design, being not thoroughly adv [...]ed whether the actions of your Youth were to be published; but I consider [...]d with it, that although sometimes you did suffer your self to be lead asid [...] unto egresse and pleasures, yet neverthelesse you oftentimes have made an h [...]nourable Halt, and being alwayes accompanied with the excellent Prin [...]iples of Virtue, you have performed many things, which have served to punish, and to correct the Vices of others. Moreover, you have alw [...]es observed such a generous Disposition, that it doth dispell all the Bla [...]e and Censures that can befall you; and it is well known, that your M [...]ners, and Conversation of Life, is now so full of Gravity and M [...]esty, that you are to be the more commended for having dis-intangled [...]our self from so many Temptations and Charms, which on every sid [...] did surround you, and that you have now chosen the better way. This bei [...]g most certain, it did seem to me that your Reputation could not suffer, [Page]if I should make a History of your passed Adventures, seeing I have disguised them in such a manner, adding something [...]o them of my own, and changing your Name also, that he must be t [...]e Master of a most discerning eye, that can discover who you are. L [...] is suffice the People, to delight themselves with the reading of so many [...]greeable Subjects, and to derive unto themselves that profit from them, [...]as to learn in what manner they ought to live at this day in the World, without being too curious to search any further. For my self, when you s [...]all take the pains to read it, and perceive what are the Rocks you ha [...]e avoyded, I shall be sufficiently satisfyed, if this which I have don [...] shall please none but your self only; It shall be unto me Glory enough to understand that you doe esteem me to be
The Advice unto his Readers.
THis here is the work of Sieur du Parc, who hath made himself famous enough by the Adventures of Floris and Cleontia, and of those of Phinemenes and Chrysaura in his Book of the Disagreeable Adventures of Love. It is true, that those Histories have a Stile very Poetical and Figurative, but such as was agreeable to the Subject he undertook, and to the Mode of that Time, in which it was not fashionable to speak of the Delights of Love in ordinary words. We may well affirm, that he did deserve much praise in that manner of Writing, and that, by his applications on every side, he plainly made it to appear, that he perfectly understood both History and Mythology; and moreover, that he was thoroughly instructed in the deepest Secrets of Philosophy. But, being of a flexible Spirit, he did vary his Stile according to the Arguments which he undertook, and we have other Pieces of his, where he is inforced to make use of fewer words, and of more matter. Amongst all the Works which he hath composed, there is none that equalleth this Comical History of Francion, which (being weary of wriring Tragical Histories) he composed last of all, as he himself declareth in the beginning of this Book. We may observe, that it doth much differ from his other works, for he knew well enough, that in this Book he ought to write familiarly, with out using the least affectation; and since he abandoned a sad Subject, to employ himself upon a pleasant one, it must necessarily fall out, that in this Book we must observe a great deal of difference from the others. They who shall peruse this Book, and are inclined to it, will affirm, that his other works are no ways to be compared to this, and that the Author here hath farr otherwise, [Page]yet most happily, expressed himsel [...]: And this, indeed, doth wonderfully amuse the Readers; but they are to observe, that we never write better, than when we follow the Inclinations of Nature, and our own Genius. This Sieur du Parc was of a pleasant, and jovial Conversation, and he took more delight to write of serious things in a flowing Language, than to constrain himself to write according to the Fashion of the Times; as sometimes he hath done, to please some Ladies. We may truly affirm, that at the last he hath found his Talent. So long we doe seek, that we do find at length what is proper for us. His Diversities of Love were Printed in the Year One thousand six hundred and fourteen; since which time he hath made two or three Books, amongst which there is one, Of Faithfull Affections, where, by little and little, his Stile did begin to change; for, to speak the truth, there were divers persons who were weary of the antient manner of writing, and did desire some Novelties. At the last, he entertained his thoughts with no other Subject, but peculiarly did addict himself unto Francion only; Nevertheless, it is probable, that he was a long time preparing himself to the undertaking of this History; for in his Book of Floris and Cleontia, and in other places, you shall find that even there he maketh mention of Francion: When he had wrote the Adventures of this Cavallier, he did give unto them the Title of The Comical History, and this was to the great displeasure of Du Souhait of Champaign, and as it were to out-brave him; for he before had given the same Title to a Legend of Accounts which he had compiled; There was a Contention betwixt these two Spirits, who were both of the same time, but our Author hath far surpassed him, as may plainly appear by the good entertainment which is given to his work, when that of Souhait hath dwelled in obscurity, being never printed but once. Nevertheless, there are many People, who, by reason of that Comical History which Du Souhait did make, will not be perswaded, but that he composed this also; But we ought not to fasten our belief to that opinion.
[Page]This Historical History of Francion was Printed the first time in the Year One thousand six hundred and twenty two, but it contained then but Seven Books. Some other of the following Books being come into the hands of the Book-sellers, after the Death of du Parc, they caused them suddenly to be Printed, because that those which were already Extant were extraordinarily received; but because there were a few breaches in that Original, it is said there were some persons did love that work so well, as to take the pains to repair those breaches, and to insert therein some Accounts of their own Invention, as they thought most agreeable to the Nature of the Subject. And because they made mention of some things that were but lately done, many persons were abused in it, and conceived the whole Book to be altogether new, and would not believe that Du Parc was any wayes the Author of it. Moreover, as the Language is every day more polished than other, it may be that the Original Copy of the Author had not all those elegancies which are since arrived, and that some amendment hath been given to that, and those fashions of Speech have been reformed, which were no longer in use; insomuch, that as a small thing in such occasions is of great importance, this hath served to deceive the world, by attributing this Book unto those persons who have not contributed much unto it. But so it is, that since that time it hath the happiness to be by every one desired, and it hath been oftentimes Printed according to the second Addition, without any change, and the History containing but Eleven Books, it is to be believed that the Author had made Twelve, and every one demanded the Twelfth Book, but no Man could produce it. This is that for which I would convince those, who would attribute this History unto others; for what did hinder them [...] at they did not put an end unto it? We must expect that from the right Author, and search out for that which the living did perform. At last there is one arrived who was with Sieur du Parc at the hour of his Death, he is newly returned from a long Voyage, and hath acquainted a Friend of his, that he had [Page]about him divers Manuscripts, which ought to be examined, and set in order for the Press.
There hath been found amongst them, a Copy of the greatest part of the Comical History of Francion, which, in some places was more large than that which we have, and had an other beginning, and another ending; and, above all, the Twelfth Book, so much desired. We have so far prevailed, that we have caused it to be Printed as you now see it, and we have reformed that which ought to be reformed; as for example, The Epistle to the Grandies, and the Narrative of the Preface to the Book, which were of the body of the History, are inserted in their due places, when all that before was put in the beginning of the Book, for want of something else; Nay, and it is most perspicuous that it must be so, for there is found another Dedicatory Epistle, which doth address it self to Francion, which ought to be in the beginning of the History, as it is now placed. VVe doe observe, that in the Eleventh Book Francion doth affirm, that he hath made a Book, which he calleth His Youthfull Errors, which he saith hath been published, and yet we cannot find that such a Book was ever printed; It is only therefore but a Fiction, and Du Parc therein hath taken pleasure to make Francion so to speak, to amuse the Readers. It cannot be found that in any such Book Du Parc did learn any of the Adventures of this Cavallier, for in his Epistle he confesseth, that Francion with his own Mouth did relate them to him. Nevertheless, it is worth your observation, to discover if there be not yet another Fiction, or if this Francion were indeed a Gentleman who was a Friend to Du Parc, and had imparted some of his Memorials to him, he having undertaken to compile a History of his Life; but we will let that pass, as being of no great Importance to our present occasion. It may suffice, that we do acknowledge the excellence of the Book. As for the mo [...]n Subjects which are here inserted, because they are so handsomely inchased in the History, and they are so well known that they are never to be forgotten, we have left them where we found thē. They are all ranked in such order, that we may affirm, we have now the true History [Page]of Francion, being corrected according to the Manuscript of the Author. As for those passages which have relation unto Strangers, we will not dispute whether they are better or worse than the Principal of the Book, for all beauties do differ in their particulars; but we ought to consider, that it is so little, in comparison of that which du Parc hath wrote, and if it should be left out, it would not blemish the History. Those Discourses may continue where they are, to satisfie the Curious, who will lose nothing of that which they have once seen. Moreover, it is a received Maxim, that Books of pleasure are permitted to change, more freely than any other. It is most certain howsoever, that if any thing be added to this History, it must be according to the Level and Designs of the first Author, whom, of necessity the others are obliged to follow, so that in whatsoever can be done, the honour of it is due unto him. We ought on the other side to consider, that many persons are to be found, who assure us, that it belongs all to one and the same Author, and that those Passages which are suspected to be anothers, and not du Parcs, were not of so late a date, but that du Parc might well arrive to the knowledge of them, and might insert them in the last Books of his History; and it were unjust, for two or three discourses, to suspect all the rest. We ought to continue in that opinion, and not to believe that any other than du Parc was the Author of the entire Comical History of Francion; for why shall we impu e it to another, since there is no Man found to challenge it himself? He hath left us this delightfull History, in such a Condition, that it can procure an estimation to its self, without being beholding unto any, and the embellishments that can be brought unto it, are not able to bereave it of the just Honour it deserveth. It must not be, that the Living may think to attribute unto themselves the Glory of the Dead. We have many things yet to allege in the Commendation of this Work; but to what purpose is it, when, behold, you have it present before you, and you have no more to do, but by perusing it, to consider of your selves how much it ought to be esteemed?
THE COMIQUE HISTORY OF FRANCION.
EAch Age produces Tragique Histories enough, which only serve to trouble and discompose the harmony of Mens Soules; This is all Comique; and full of such facetious Conceits, as may unknit the Brow of the severest Stoique; Yet you shall finde some things in it not unprofitable: All the Cheats and Gulleries therein related are to instruct you how to avoid the like, and the Misfortunes, befallen some ill-Livers, may teach you to abandon Vice. Mature Judgements will receive no small Advantage here; for, among the Drolleries they'l meet with divers serious things; and some Remonstrances, which (though short) may in apt and well-disposed Soules make a profound impression. 'Tis grand Discretion to be warned by others harmes; And to be taught by one, whose Method's easie and familiar, and his lessions rather Sport than Paine, is doubtlesse more conducing to the Learner's benefit, than the obscure Dictates of a sterne and unpleasant Master. The Ancient Authors are observed in their Comedies to instruct the People by giving them recreation; This Work revives their Practice with some addition: For, what they onely saw represented on the Theatre, is here exposed in writing to your view; and since it was composed chiefly to be read, each Accident and Circumstance is particularly related; So, instead of a meere Comedy, you shall see a Comique History.
ALready had the Night worn out neare half her Sables, when an old man (named Valentine) came out of a Castle in Burgundy, with a long Gowne on his Back, a red Cap on his Head, and a great Bundle under his Arme. If, contrary to his custome, he had not then his Spectacles (which alwaies used to bestride his Nose or Girdle) it was, because in the excercise he went about, he desired as much to see no body, as he was loath to be seen himselfe; Had the Moon afforded any light, the shadow of his own Body would have been enough to distract his Mind: So seeking nothing but Solitude, he commanded the servants, he left within the Castle, to draw up their Bridge; wherein he was immediately obeyed, as representing there the person of the Nobleman to whom it belonged. Having discharged his arme of the burthen, he began to walk about as gingerly as if he had been condemned to tread upon eggs & not break them: And imagining all the world (to the very frogs & toads) were at their rest, he crawl'd down gently into the ditch, to execute in private some part of his injunctions. There he caused to be placed, the night before, a Tub of a sufficient bignesse for [Page 2]a man to bathe in; Which as soone as he came neere, he stript off all his cloathes except his Doublet, and having truss'd his Shirt round about him, he dipt himself in the water above the Navell, then presently stept out again, and having struck fire with a Tinderbox he carryed with him, he lighted a little Wax-candle, with which he march'd three or foure times about the Tub, then flung it into the water and quencht the flame. After that, he cast in a quantity of a strange sort of powder he had brought, wrapt close up in a paper, having in his mouth a multitude of odde barbarous words, which he pronounc'd not cleerly, but mumbled betwixt his teeth, like an old angry Ape, being already almost starved with cold, though Summer alrady had begun to strew her flowers.
This ceremony being ended, he began to bathe himself, and was very carefull that no part of his body should remain unwasht: This done, he dryed and cloathed himself again, mean time his words and gestures discovered nothing but tokens of contentment and joy. Then creeping up to the top of the bank, ‘Now (said he) I have gone through the hardest of my task, Heavens grant I may with as much ease perform the Rights of Wedlock, I have but two or three Conjurations yet to make to all the powers of the world, and then I shall have perfectly accomplisht all was order'd me: That done, I shall try if I can taste those sweets, which most men else enjoy; Ha Lauretta (continued he, casting some amorous glances towards the Castle) Thou shalt have no cause hereafter to reproach me of being fit for nothing but to sleep and snore by thy warm side; My body shall lye no longer like a senslesse block in bed with thee; Henceforwards it will be so vigorous and youthful, that I shall weary thee, and thou wilt be inforc'd to say, (pushing me gently back with thy soft hands) Oh my Dear, Oh my Sweet-heart, it's enough for this time. How joyfull should I be to hear such melting language from thy lips, instead of those harsh tearms thou dost commonly use.’
While he was thus discoursing to himself, his steps conducted him into a great inclosure full of all sorts of trees, where he opened the bundle he had brought from home. In it there was a long black Cassack which he put over his gowne, and a great riding hood with a Mask of the same piece, which muffled his head and face all over. In this Antick dress, as if he had been to act a jack-Pudding's part upon a stage, he began to practise the remaining part of his Magick Ceremonies, believing that the onely meanes to make him master of his desires. First he drew a Circle upon the ground, then reduced it to a triangular figure with a staffe tipt with iron; but being ready to step into the middle, a suddaine shivering seazed upon all his limbs, Feare suggesting to his troubled thoughts that the Devills would presently leave their infernall Mansions and appeare to him. He would have signed himself with a Crosse, had not he, who instructed him in the practise of these superstitions, expressely forbidden him to use it on this occasion, and instead thereof had taught him certain words to protect him from any assaults, the evill spirits should dare to make upon his person.
The passion that inflamed his desire to compleat his enterprise, arming his resolution against all sorts of consideration, constrained him at length to prostrate himself upon his bare knees in the midst of the Circle with his face towards the East, and pronounce these words: ‘Oh you spirits that rule Concupiscence, fill our hearts with Carnall desires at your will, and give us ability to performe them, (this he spake with an indifferent loud voyce) By the supream power, on which you are dependant, I conjure you to assist me in all incounters, support, my infirmities, strengthen my weaknesse, and especially I beseech you render me as potent and valorous a Cambatant in Venus warres, as he that scarce hath reacht the seventh Luster of his age: This is all I crave, and if you will vouchsafe to grant it, I'le carve you out so large a recompence, that you shall rest satisfied with my gratitude.’ This said, he addressed severall vowes to Asmodeus, then remained a good while silent in expectation of the event. At length a strange confused [Page 3]noise posted to his eare from a place not far distant, and lending better attention he heard a fearfull howling, and a sound like that of stints when struck against each other, soon after a horrible dinne and rustling, as if somebody had hasted towards him through the Branches of the Trees. With this, feare took possession of his heart, and you may sweare he wisht himselfe at home, and that he never had undertook so perillous an enterprize: yet after a little recollection his fancy had recourse to these foolish words, which he was taught to say for his defence, ‘Oh whatsoer'e thou beest, great Mastiff, that runnest towards me with open mouth and up-lifted taile, thinking to have found the Prey thou look'st for, returne to the place whence thou comest, and content thy self to eat up thy great grand-mothers old shooes.’ These words are very ridiculous; and those your principall Magitians use are little lesse impertinent, so the simple old fellow might easily be perswaded to give credit to them, He thought some grand Mysterie had layen concealed under these absurdities, and spitting in his hand he put his little finger in his eare, with a multitude of other fopperies belonging to the Ceremony, which punctually performed, he believed the most maligne spirits of the world were forced rather to comply with his desires, than doe him the least injury. Immediately after this he discovered something in humane shape not many paces from him: This he took to be the Devill whom he had invok'd, and not daring to move neither legs nor tongue, his Soule had made an escape out of its mortall prison, had its flight not been retarded by these words: Valentine, I am thy friend, feare nothing, I will procure thee the perfect enjoyment of those pleasures thou most desirest, henceforwards onely cherish thy selfe, and take no farther care. This said, the Spirit vanisht, and with him all Valentine's feare, his Agony being much abated by this favourable sallutation.
A Pilgrim (whose right name was Francion) had ordered him one trick more, which returning to his then more setled thoughts, he presently repaired to a convenient place he had designed for that experiment. Straight sprung a fancy in his giddy braine, that he was already imbracing his faire Lauretta, this fed his imagination with such delight, that he could not forbeare hugging and tickling himselfe till he laught, with a thousand other actions expressing an excesse of joy. Being at length come to a great Elme tree, he cast his Armes about it, as the Pilgrim had advised him: in this posture he repeated divers prayers, which ended, he turned his body to embrace the other part of the tree, muttering these words to himselfe: It will be as easie for me to content my wife, (since heaven is so pleased) as to incompasse this Elme with my imbraces. But while he was humouring his fond desires with this amorous contemplation, he felt on a sodaine something take hold on both his hands, and notwithstanding he struggled with all the strength Nature had lent him, he found no possibility of releasement: They were instantly bound fast together with a strong cord, and he stretching out his neck like the Cock of a Conduit, whose head is not sixt to the body, but may be set higher or lower at pleasure, stood looking about to see if he could discover who had put that abuse upon him.
Mean time fear had so multiplyed the species of each object, that instead of one Man (who (after he had thus made him prisoner) conveyed himselfe immediately into the thickest of the Wood) he thought he had discerned at least fifty, and (which more terrified his affrighted Soule) that they were so many evill Spirits assembled there meerly to rejoyce at his torments, and make him suffer all the perfecutions they could devise. To cry out he durst not, to implore any succour he conceived in vaine, for he believed it impossible for him ever to be delivered thence without the divine assistance; besides, if he should complaine, for ought he knew those mercilesse Devills would redouble his punishment, and deprive him of the use of speech, or transport him into some inhabitable Desart. His Body enjoyed as little quiet as his Mind; for striving to free himself of that captivity, he marcht incessantly about the Elme, and so [Page 4]travelled like a Mill-horse a great way in a little compasse, being not able to break nor pull it up by the roots, which he oft in vaine attempted.
Then he began to repent at leisure of his folly for using Magick Art, remembring he had heard the Parson of his Parish say, ‘No man ought to exercise that damn'd profession, unlesse he had a mind to boyle eternally in the Devills Kettle.’
Meane time the faire Lauretta, whom he left in the Castle, entertain'd as little sleep as her distracted Husband; for the devout Pilgrim Francion had promised to visit her that night by the help of a cord-ladder she had fastened to the window; and she feasted her wanton thoughts with a confidence that he would give her a reall tast of those delights, whereof her Husband never had the ability to shew her the Idea.
You must note, that four Thieves having not long before received intelligence of divers very rich movables in the Castle (whereof Valentine was Keeper) had combined to robb it, and the better to atchieve their enterprize, they disguised the youngest of their Gang (being a handsome fellow) in Womans cloathes, advising him to contrive some meanes to intrude himself into that family, and as a Domestick to observe the places where the best Booty lay, and secure the keyes if possible, that they might take away what they pleased. This Thief assuming a name suitable to his habit, comes a begging to the Castle, possesses Valentine with a belief that she was a poor Orphan, her father having been hanged for some falsly imposed Crimes, and that she had abandoned her native Country, being too sensible of the infamy would reflect upon her for her Fathers disgracefull death.
Valentine, moved with compassion at the recitall of the misfortunes of this counterfeit Katherine (so she called her selfe) and seeing she offered to serve without contracting for wages, willingly gave her admittance into his house. Her compliance and readinesse to serve her Mistresse, with the modest and harmlesse countenance she had so cunningly composed, had soon purchased her so large a portion of Lauretta's favour, that she intrusted the management of her whole houshold to her care. And her credit grew by degrees to that height, that she might freely take the keyes of any Roome and keep them long enough ere they were re-demanded, or any body entertain'd the least suspition of her fidelity.
One day going to fetch water at a spring without the Village, she met one of her associates, who came to inform himselfe of her proceedings while the other stayed at the next town, expecting a favourable opportunity to accomplish their designe. She assured him if they came privately thither the night following, they might load themselves with divers things of value she then had in her power, promising withall to cast them out the cord-ladder one of them had conveyed into her hands not above two dayes before.
The three Thieves failed not a minute of the time appointed, and being descended to the bottom of the Castle ditch, they spied a hand guiding a cord-ladder out at a window, on the side towards the great gate. One of them by a gentle whistle gave notice of their approach, the like signall was returned from above: This drew all their eyes immediately to the window, where they perceived a woman, whom they supposed to be their Confederate, Katharine, though that was not the place she had appointed them to scale. One of the three (named Oliver) touhc'd, with I know not what remorse of Conscience, took a serious review of all his past Extravagancies, and growing still more sensible of the burthen of his Soul, had a few dayes before made a solemne Vow to Heaven within himselfe, to abandon that lewd Company and amend his life; But his companions having need of his assistance (being of an active Body and notable Courage) would not be perswaded, by all the intreaties he could make, to let him [Page 5]quit their consortship, but sealed their threats with execrable oathes, if he offered to desert them before they had rob'd that Castle, where-ever he retired they nere would be at rest till they had found meanes to murther him. Yet seeing them like greedy Wolves, ready to fasten upon the Prey, he again told them, ‘As he desired no part of the Booty they were going to make, so he would have no share of the trouble and danger they might undergoe.’ But after much reviling language, being taxed with feare and cowardise for denying his assistance, at length he was constrained to mount the ladder, first, to avoid the fury of his inraged Camarades.
Stepping from the Window into the Chamber, he admired to see himselfe fall into the amorous armes of a Woman, whom he found of another constitution than Katherine. This was the Lady Lauretta, who took him for Francion, the darknesse of the Chamber deceiving her, for her candle had been long put out.
Oliver not insensible of this favour fortune had cast upon him, thought he must speedily hinder his companions ascent, or they would interrupt his sport, so, gently unlocking fair Lauretta's armes he hasted to the window, to take in the ladder, as she desired; and perceiving one of his associates already fast upon it, he ceased not drawing till he was at least half way up, then tying it to an iron hinge, he shut the window close. The Thief thinking Oliver intended to draw him in that manner to the top, at first was no way troubled; but finding a stop in the middle of his course, he began to entertaine some jealous thoughts, and accuse those within of treachery. Neverthelesse he climb'd up the ladder to Lauretta's window, but perceiving no possibilty of entrance, and not daring to knock, lest some of the Castle should discover him, he fancied it would be his best way to recover the ground againe: In this opinion he slid along the cord as low as it would reach (which was nothing neare the bottom) and falling thence by a window fenced with Iron Barrs, one of the pointed ends running through, made him so fast Prisoner by the breeches, that all the art he had could not procure him the liberty to break his neck by tumbling any farther.
Francion in this interim not willing to neglect the assignment his Mistresse had given him, failed not to come to the Castle-wall, where seeing on the other side, Katherine with a ladder at the window, he presumed it was Lauretta. In this confidence he presently mounts to the top, and being entred the roome, his language was nothing but an iteration of kisses to his supposed Mistresse. She wondering at his fond familiarity, said, ‘ Oliver, What's the matter? Is it thou, or is it some other? What, art become a fool, to play such antick tricks when we should rather be diligent in the expedition of our businesse? Leave, I must help up thy fellowes. Dost think my change of habit hath made me transform my sex.’
Francion's opinion that he had mistook his mark, was perfectly confirmed by these words, which came not (as his eares quickly discover'd) from the agreeable mouth of his beloved Lauretta. However he stood not to examine what the true meaning was, because he thought they concerned him not; onely he told Katherine (whom he then knew to be the maid) that her Mistresse had promised to dedicate that night to Venus in his company, and he was come to enjoy the precious contentment of her sweet embraces. Katherine, who had as much cunning as was requisite for any that exercised the trade she professed, searcht among all her subtilest projects for an invention to get cleare of him, imagining his presence would put a stop to their designe. To conduct him to Lauretta's chamber (as he desired) she deemed not convenient, because she thought perhaps she might be commanded to stand Centinell, or be otherwise imployed when her companions came to execute their intention. So, to avoid all incumbrance, she told him her Mistresse was very sick, and had given her charge [Page 6]to plead her excuse for deferring her appointed entertainment. Francion, cursing the crosseness of his fate, was forc'd to repeat his way to the rope, and being half way down, Katherine (whose treacherous soul delighted in wicked acts) to revenge the accidentall check she conceived his coming had given to their contrivance, shook the cord with all the force her rage could lend her, on purpose to send him to the ground head-long. Seeing himself thus treated, he perceived there was no remedy but leaping, to save his limbs from being shattered to pieces against the wall. This consideration made him presently quit his hold, and commit his life to torture, who lending no favourable assistance to his amorous stealths, but suffering him to tumble into the Tub (where Valentine had made his Bath) he had like to have met with two deaths in avoiding one; for, besides making a great wound in his head, that bereaved him of both speech and sence, he wanted not much of drowning: Katherine hearing the noise he made, falling foule upon the Tub, rejoyced within her self at his disaster, and soon after drew in the ladder, believing her companions would not come that night.
The Thief that stayed below, seeing Oliver (who had got into the Castle) look't no more after him, and that his other Camarade was so hung in the Aire, that there was no possibility of relieving him, expected no good issue of their Plot, concluding, if his fellow were found hanging next morning in that posture, he should gaine nothing by staying with him, but the ill fortune to be condemned to beare him company on another Gallowes. However, a certaine blinde and groundless curiosity inviting him to walk round the Ditch, he advances to Francion's Tub, and feeling a Man in it, he dragg'd him by the Armes out of the Water; Then, his Necessity (with the naturall inclination he had to pilfering) reviving his desire of prey, made him presently dive into the strangers pockets, where he found a Purse full of Carducu's and other money, with a Ring that had so rich a lustre, that maugre the Nights obscurity, you might perceive its beauty. This happy incounter somewhat qualified his former discontents, and without taking farther care, whether the Man he robb'd were alive or dead, or inquiring what accident had brought him thither, he presently left that place, resolving to wander as his Starres should direct him.
Oliver, who had a jewell in possession of far greater value than his fellow-Thief, resolved to injoy it to the full, and drowne his desires in delight, having first shut the Chamber windows close, lest the injurious Light, finding an entrance there, should too soon betray him: Lauretta with an affected wantonnesse had carelesly throwne her selfe againe upon her Bed, expecting her Champion, who began his skirmish with so hot a charge of kisses, as left no space for Words. After this first Assault, she, whom the excesse of Pleasure had before struck dumb, soon recovered the use of speech, and putting her Armes about his Neck, and her moist Lips to his Cheeks, Eyes and Mouth, broke silence with these acclamations: Oh! deare Francion, how much sweeter is thy Conversation, than that old doting fellow's, whom I have been forc't to marry! O how winning are thy Charmes! how great thy merit! How happy doe I'esteeme my selfe for having the wit to discerne, and be taken with thy perfections! I shall never desire to be loosed from that pretious Chaine. Thou dost not speake (my deare) continued she, with a kisse more ardent than the former, Is it because my company seems not so agreeable to thee as thine to me? Alas, if it were so, I should indure penalty enough by my imperfections. Then after a short silence, she added; O! really I must accuse my selfe of folly for putting out my Candle; for, what need I have fear'd? the old fellow's gone forth (I thinke) to practise the remedies thou taughtst him for his incurable diseases: I must call to Katherine for a light, I am not altogether of the opinion of those, who hold the mysteries of Love are to be perform'd i'th darke, I'm certaine, the sight of the beloved object contributes new fuel to lovers fires; besides, to be plaine with thee, (my deare heart) I would gladly see the Emerald thou promisedst to bring me, I believe [Page 7]thou hast so much care to comply with thy owne ingagement and my fancy, that thou hast not forgot it; hast thou? tell me really.
Nothing could excuse Oliver from discovering himselfe, being conjured so oft to speak, as if he had been Francion: But imagining Lauretta would be exceedingly displeased when she found her selfe deceived, he determined to use all possible meanes to pacifie her. So he arose, and having a reasonable good wit he prostrated himselfe upon his knees before her, with these words: Madam, I am infinite sorry you are deceiv'd, taking me for another; Truly, had not your Caresses set an edge upon my appetite, I should not so easily have fallen into the crime I have committed; How ever inflict upon me what punishment you please, I am ready to receive your doome; knowing my life and death are both at your disposall.
This voice differing much from Francions, made Lauretta presently perceive her errour. Then Shame and Anger took such possession of her Minde, that had she not considered, what was done could not againe be undone, she had probably been transported to some extream distemper. But the most pleasing remedy she could apply to that sore, was to consider, that he, whom shee took for Francion, had given her a taste of such delicates as she could not repent the pleasure of enjoying them, nor Francion himselfe, perchance, have furnisht better. However she feigned her self much displeased, asking Oliver, with an angry tone, who he was. And seeing he answered her not immediately, Wicked Wretch, said she, art not thou one of Francions Servants? hast thou not murther'd thy Master to come hither in his place? Madam, (reply'd Oliver, remaining still upon his knees) I'le assure you I know not that Francion you speake of: To give you an account who I am, I shall doe is freely, so you promise to believe what I shall tell you, and let me suffer if I speak any thing but truth. Goe on, said Lauretta, I doe promise it, but be briefe in your relation.
You have a Maid (continued he) called Katherine, who hath partly been the cause of this adventure, and if your patience will permit, I shall acquaint you how: You are deceived in believing her a Maid, Shee's of the contrary sexe, onely disguised in Womans Cloaths on purpose, to give Thieves entrance here to rob you, and this night she promised to cast a Cord-ladder out of a Window, to facilitate their ascent. The disorders of my youth invited me to leave my Fathers house, and ranke my self in company with these thieves, but I have framed a resolution a few dayes since, to relinquish their abhominable Course of life. Neverthelesse meeting with the ladder you had prepared for Francion, and taking it to be Katharine 's, I was forced to come up first, yet Heaven in my witnesse, I had no intent to assist them in the Robberie, but rather to discover their plot to any I should chance to meet, and so prevent the mischiefe. To confirme your beliefe, Madam, be pleased onely to cast your eye from the Window downwards, and you shall see one of the thieves hanging upon the Cord, which I have halfe drawne up; This is a cleare testimony, that had I complyed with their villanious intentions, I should not have used him in that manner.
Lauretta moved with admiration at these words, went presently to satisfie her naturall curiosity, and peeping through a little Window, she perceived what Oliver had told her was no lye, so she demanded no further proof of his innocence, but longing to know how Katherine was imployed, she called her to bring a light, having first hid Oliver betwixt the Bed and Wall. Katherine by the helpe of the Candle she brought lighted, having a full view of Lauretta's naked Bosome, was tickled with desires much more fervent than such sights doe usually awake in persons of her habit. The absence of her Master, and the good humour she thought her Mistrisse then was in, added Confidence to her Lust: for Lauretta, hiding the hatred she conceived against her, under a smooth and smiling Countenance, with, a pretty familiarity thus began; ‘Whence comest thou, Katherine, what not unready yet, and 'tis so late? I protest (Madam answered she) I cannot sleep, I am alwayes afraid of Spirits or Thieves, lying in a solitary corner far from all company, therefore I seldome put off my [Page 8]Clothes, that in case any thing should happen, I may not be forced to come out of my chamber naked to call for succour: but is it possible, Madam, you should be here alone without any feare? Oh God! I beseech you let me stay here all night, since my Master is not at home: I shall sleep better upon this stoole, than in my bed, and I shall be so far from disturbing you, that you will finde much convenience by my being so neare and ready to give you immediately any thing you shall demand. No, No, (reply'd Lauretta) returne to thy own chamber, I have no need of thee, & since I have a light I shall be no more afraid; Onely in the dark, if any thing breaks my sleep on a suddaine, feare presents strange apparitions to my fancy, sometimes in forme of a Dog, sometimes like a man all in black, and sometimes in shapes more deformed and terrible. Here Katherine, fleering in her Mistresse face, thus interrupted her, "Certainely Madam, your husband is very unnaturall, Ah Heavens! how could he resolve to leave your company this night? Where is he? is he gone to catch Frogs with a quaile-pipe? For my particular (though I am held but a silly Wench) I must confesse to you, I finde my selfe more capable of loving you, than he appeares to be. Get thee gone, thou art an absurd foole, said Lauretta; how now? It seems when you came hither first, you did but play the Hypocrite: whom shall we trust hereafter? Don't you believe me then? (replyed Katherine) well, but suppose I should shew you in effect that I am provided of the instrument you most want, and that Valentine cannot render a better account of his abilities than I; Would you not thinke it strange? This is handsome discourse indeed for a Maid, ( answered Lauretta angerly) Goe, Hussy, thou art the boldest quean in the World, where hast thou got tipple to make thy selfe drunke this night? Be gone, and see my face no more. 'Tis a miserable thing to have to doe with such people, as many Servants, as many Enemies: But what remedy? they are necessary Evills.’
Katherine, whose spirits were then raised, and would not be layed by the frownes of a seeming unwillingnesse, not caring what opinion her Mistresse could have of her familiarity, sawcily advanced to kisse her, and give her a perfect assurance, that she had boasted of nothing more than she was able and ready to perform: for, she imagined, as soon as she had shewen her evidence to Lauretta, her anger would turne to kindnesse, & seek no farther then that offered opportunity, with open armes to deliver up loves fortresse. But Lauretta apprehending what Discretion injoyned, was so far from being her owne Bawde in the advancement of her lustfull designes, as she flew into a storme of bitter language, which back't with three or foure blows, drove her out of the chamber.
Oliver who had heard all their discourse, came out of his Ambuscade behinde the Bed, and told Lauretta she might now easily understand by the words and actions of Katherine, that she was not what she represented. Lauretta confessing this apparent truth, answered, she would now so narrowly watch Katherine's proceedings, as when she least suspected the prevention, her fellow-thieves should not onely be denyed their expected entrance into the Castle, but she receive a just punishment for her treachery. Consider, Madam, what is fittest to be done (said Oliver) and I promise to shape my assistance by the Patterne of your commands. I'le goe seek out Katherine (replyed Lauretta) follow you onely at a distance, and be ready to come up with these cords when you heare me call, that we may bind her as I shall contrive it. This said, Lauretta took the candle and went to her maids Chamber, ‘here take the light (said she) and come with me into the great hall. What to doe? Madam, said Katherine, take you no care for that replyed Lauretta) you shall see when you are there.’
When they were come into the hall, Lauretta bade Katherine open the Window, and get up to see what it was hung a top of the grate and made such frequent bustling. This was the Thief whom accident had apprehended by the haunches.
[Page 9] Katherine, who was ignorant of her Complice's being there arrested, after she had taken the liberty to foole with her Mistresse's breasts, set her foot upon a low stoole, and thence stept into the window, to satisfie her owne, as well as Lauretta's curiosity. She had no sooner set her selfe into a posture to make the discovery, but Lauretta mounting into a great Chaire, laid hold on both her hands, while Oliver (who waited for the signall at the doore) pinioned her armes behind, and bound her fast to the crosse-barre. This is not all (said Lauretta, laughing, when she saw her person was secured) We must see if her Commodities be so good as she boasted: With that, she hoisted up her Petticoats, Smock and all, and tyed it to her Bosome with a Point, exposing her whole Packet to the publick view. Then Oliver began to jeere and laugh so loud, that his Companion and Katherine both knowing his voice, one cryed, ‘Ah! I beseech thee help me to get off this Broach, for Day is almost ready to break, and if I am found in this condition here, I give thee leave to judge what will become of me. I can lend thee no assistance (answered Oliver) for here's a great iron grate betwixt us; But thou dost very well to wish thy selfe out of the Aire, for that's an Element very contrary to thy Constitution, and I am confident 'twill be thy Destiny to die in it. Thou hast betrayed us then (said Katherine, interrupting him) Perfidious Villaine, if I had hold of thy heart, I would devoure it presently. Talk no more of Holding (replyed Oliver) for thou hast no use of thy hands. Let's leave them there (said Lauretta) to complaine and raile their fills, no body shall come to relieve them but the Sergeant and the Hangman.’
This discourse ended, Lauretta invited Oliver back to her Chamber, where having better opportunity to contemplate her perfections, he was ravished at the delicacie of her complexion, which he little thought was so transcendent when he enjoyed her in the dark. After admiring the attraction and murthering power of her eyes, he ventured to taste the Cherries of her lips; which favour was not refus'd him: for, Lauretta seeing his garbe and Person not unhandsome, was nothing unwilling to let him recommence the Game, wherein at their first encounter he had so well played his part. And he (who was no novice in the art of Love) reading the intentions of her yeilding heart in the wanton motion of her craving eyes, neglected not the favourable opportunity was given him, to please his appetite with a second taste of so delicious a Banquet.
The recreations of their bodies past, they began to give some liberty to their tongues; Oliver's chief discourse was of the happinesse Fortune had unexpectedly throwne upon him, assuring Lauretta with the repetition of a multitude of Oathes, that he esteemed nothing, the whole Universe conteined, comparable to the contentment he received in her company. ‘You have good reason to return thanks to th' Heavens for one thing (said Lauretta And that is, for being so propitious to your intents, that when I saw you at the middle of the Ladder, coming up (taking you for a servant of mine) I retired, and set my selfe in a Chaire expecting till you were got through the Window; for, had I stayed there, I should soon have perceived you were not the man I look't for, and (not to conceale the truth) you had infallibly found a very bad reception, whereas now your entertainment has been such as (I believe) you have little cause to complaine. I doubt not (answered Oliver) but you would have ill-treated me, and I cannot blame you, if you had; for, what inclinations could you have for a man unknowne surprising you in that manner, instead of one whose company you had frequented and affected? But I shall beg your belief of this Protestation; If I am not equall in parts of Body or Mind to him, whom you intended this night to honour with your embraces, I may compare with him, if not exceed him, in affection and desires to serve you.’
These demonstrations of a fervent Love open'd the way to divers other discourses, which now and then were interrupted with some amorous Dalliances, [Page 10]the delights whereof they repeated as oft as the Spirit moved.
When Lauretta saw the over-early Sun dart in his prying rayes through the Crannies of her chamber Window, suspecting by that time her husband was ready to returne, she advised Oliver to hide himself among the Hay in the stable, and when the Draw-bridge was let downe, take his opportunity to slip away. After divers sweet Adieu's, and an infinity of assurances to register her favours in his memory, he consented to follow her directions, and made his Nest in the Mowe, while she returning to her Chamber lock'd her self within, expecting the successe of Katherine and her confederate's Adventure.
This being Sunday Morning, Three lusty Countrey ladds had got up betimes to goe to the first Mass, and afterwards to a Village not farre thence to challenge at long Tennis the best gamesters of the place: But finding the Church doores shut, and the Curate not yet stirring, they tooke occasion to walk about the Castle, where they presently perceived the Thief holding the Cord-ladder with one hand, and the Iron grate with the other; the next object they discovered was Katherine stark naked from the waste downwards, and taking her for an Hermaphrodite, they burst out into such loud laughters and shouting, as made the whole Village ring with their rude noise. This waked the Curates curiosity to descend, (buttoning his Doublet as he went) and see what Novelty caus'd that wondrous merryment. But their emotion was so extravagant, that they could hardly keep themselves upon their feet, and did nothing but clap their hands, wrest their bodies into a hundred antick postures, and joult one another, as if they had been little lesse than mad. The good Pastour casting his eyes onely upon them, perceived no cause of such excessive laughter, and though he never ceased asking what the matter was, for a good while could draw no other answer from them but a redoubling of their cries and laughter: At length, taking one by the arm, "Come hither Peter (said he) prethee tell "me what may be the reason of this transportment. All these words the fellow (holding his sides with both his hands, and laughter often interrupting his speech) bad him look at one of the Castle windowes. The Curate directing his sight that way, quickly discerned what had put them in that absurd humour, and with a moderate smile, that no way discomposed his gravity, ‘You are a company of right Lobcocks (said he) to make such a monstrous clamour for so slight a matter; It is a sign you have seen but little, since the meanest Object in the world incites you to such boundlesse laughter and deportments, befitting none but Bedlamites; I must confesse I laugh too, but 'tis at your folly: What know you but that you scoffe so at, may rather require your compassion, We shall hear anon by Mr. Valentine, what the meaning of this May-game is, perchance there has been some tragedie acted within his house this Night.’
As the Curate had ended his speech, he was accosted by a great number of his townes-men, who wondring at this strange spectacle fell to examining the Thief and Katherine, who had put them in that posture, but they not so ready, nor willing to render them an account, were much perplexed within themselves, they had so many witnesses of their shame. At length upon further instance, the Thief promised, if they would procure his releasment, he would tell them every particular: But the Curate charged them that accompanied him not to help him off his tenters till the Castle gates were opened, and he had spoke with Valentine; so some of the rout rounding the Castle to see if they could spie any body at the windowes, a mournfull voice piercing their Eares, invited their Eyes to the bottom of the Ditch, where at first sight they discerned a tub, and more curiously surveying the circumjacent place, they saw Francion, who after recovering of his swoun, felt himselfe so cold and feeble, that his leggs not retaining strength enough to support his bruised body, he had laid himselfe down by it to repose. The Clowns seeing him in a sad condition, some of them ran down to him, and [Page 11]one of them helping him up, and wiping the blood a little off his face, much amazed cryed out, ‘ Mercy Heavens! this is my Lodger, the devout Pilgrim that came to my house a while since; deare friend (continued he, looking still earnestly upon him) What treacherous Villains were those handled you in this barbarous manner? Carry me hence (replyed Francion) good friends lend me your hands, I cannot now give you satisfaction in what you demand.’ This said, the Country-men lifted him out of the Ditch, and as they were carrying him to his Inne, they met one of his Servants, who wondered to see his Master in that equipage; the service he judged then most expedient for him, was to run presently for a Chirurgion, who came as he was undrest by the fire-side & ready to be put in bed. The wound searcht was not found very dangerous, so after the application of some vulnerary Salves proper in like occasions, the Chirurgion assured him it would be no long cure.
While great numbers of the Country people stood gazing before the Castle, and wondering at the sodain Metamorphosis of a Maid into a Man; Some that had glutted themselves with the pleasure of this Drollery, went to bid their Neighbours hasten to the Castle-green, and they should see somewhat worth their labour. The best was, the Women (who have naturally more curiosity than Men, especially in matters of recreation) earnest beyond measure to know what their husbands were gone to see, ran by troops (like Cowes when stung by Gad flyes in the heat of Summer) to the place where the Comedie was acted: But when they saw the shew Katherine made, they turn'd back with as much shame as haste; Some that were of a joviall humour, by their incessant tittering seem'd distracted for the time; Others, whose austerer disposition made them peevish, and wrest every thing to the worst sense, express'd no small distaste, and went muttering away, as if all this had been prepared meerly to abuse them. ‘Could you choose no other time to play your Apish Gambals but on a Sunday morning (said one of these good Women to the Company) yet had you staid till after Service it had been a little more tolerable, especially if it were now Carneval-time: Ha! the World will perish without doubt, so many Men, so many Antichrists. Don't trudge away so fast, (Gossip, (said a merry companion to her) come back and see Valentine's Maid shew all she has. The Devil take his part on't, answered she. Come, come (replyed the same fellow) for all you seem so scornfull, you had rather have a part on't your selfe than the Devil. Away foole, away (cry'd another resolute Dame) Do'st think we'l be contented with part of such a Bit? we must have it all or nothing. I know that well enough (said he) The Fox would eat no grapes because he could not reach them, so you run away and slight the precious Stones are shewn you here, because you can't come nere them for the ditch and iron grate that is between, but indeed you had rather be handling such a tool than see it. I cry God mercy (quoth the woman with much disdain in her countenance) if thou gratest my eares any more with thy ribble rabble discourse of handling stones and tooles, Ile handle thine in such manner, as Ile tear them off and give them my Dog to dinner.’
Divers such jeers were cast upon the poor Women, but Ile assure you they were not much behind hand with the Men, at least if their retorts were not altogether so smart, they charged them with so many rayling and injurious Words, and set up such a Note, straining their throats all together to cry as loud as ever they could, that the Men made dizzy with the noise were forced to quit the field, as confessing themselves vanquished.
Some of this rout scattering from the rest of their troop; chanced to wander into the Cops where Valentine was, and hearing a man cry out, they made toward the place whence the voice seemed to come, little imagining 'twas he. With what amazement they were seized seeing this scare-crow covered with such fantastick garments, and bound about the tree, is not easy to expresse. [Page 12]With striving and turmoiling himself in the Night, his hood was so fallen over his eyes, that he could not see so much as to discerne 'twas day: for want of his hands he often tossed up his head to make it tumble backwards, but all his indeavours were to little purpose. He could not see the Country-men, and onely hearing the noise they made in scoffing at the antick dresse and deportments of this Object (no less pleasant than that they had seen at the Castle) the opinion he had all night that the Devils were preparing to torment him, came afresh into his thoughts, and with a stronger apprehension than before: So imagining those that approached him were no other than Devils, he began to repeat the remedies Francion had taught him to charm them.
The Country-men knew him presently by his voice, but hearing the fopperies and sensless words he spake, and considering the place and postures they found him in, they really believed he was beside himself; so laughing, till thier girdles crack't, at these adventures, they ran back to give their Curate an account of their new discoveries. As he came with his guide into the Close, spying already Valentine among the trees, "Is it you (Sir) my dear friend (said he) alas! who is't has put you here?
Valentine hearing his Pastour's voice, began a little to moderate his fear, a fancy then coming in his crown, that the most desperate of all the Devils in Hel would not dare to come near him so long as a sacred person was with him; and after a little pause, ‘Ah! good Sir (answered he) they were Devils that bound me here, and they have assailed me with more malice and fury than ever they persecuted the holy ancient Hermites. But how (said the Curate) Did you not lie in your own house this night? Did they bring you hither in such manner as that you felt them not?’ Were they not rather some wicked men that put you in this pickle? Valentine answered not a word, thinking he that spake to him might be a Devil himself, and had assumed a voice like his Curate's, purposely to deceive him: for he had heard and read that evil Spirits sometimes transform themselves into Angels of light. This made him begin his conjurations again, and after all, say, ‘I will not speak to thee, Prince of Darknesse, I know thee well enough, thou art not my Curate, thou onely imitatest his Speech. But you shall see I am (answered the Curate taking off his hood) Why how now (Mr. Valentine) are you out of your wits, to believe all that speak to you are Spirits? Why doe you forge these imaginations? Must I put you in the number of my lost sheep?’
Valentine enjoying the benefit of the light, knew all those about him were his neighbours and friends, and seeing they went about to set his hands at liberty, he absolutely banished the ill opinion he had conceived of them.
When he was released of his imprisonment, the Curate importun'd him so earnestly to know how he came there, that he was constrain'd at length to repeat all the inchantments Francion had taught him, and withall to relate the reason that incited him to practise them. Some knavish Boyes, that over-heard this story, went presently and publisht it all the town over to his disgrace, insomuch that the memory of it is not yet extinct, and to this day, if there be any cold cod-pieced fellow, they tell him in a jeering manner, He must go to Valentines Bath.
After the zealous Curat had sufficiently rebuk'd his Parishioner for his pernicious curiosity, they returned all together to behold the present spectacles at the Gastle windoes, whereof Valentine, no less astonished than the rest, could render no account. Hereupon a merry conceited fellow, that by chance had mingled himself among them, replied, ‘You are sorely troubled, Gentlemen, to conjecture the cause of what you see, Ile expound you this Riddle in three words; That Companion you see hanging by the Ladder, was some of Katherine's Sweet-hearts, and without doubt he had a purpose to go see her; But, to shew him his courtship was Labour in vain, she has so cleared the point, that [Page 13]his own eyes may certify him, she is not as he thought her: Se how forlornly he looks, as if the loss of his Love had bereav'd him of his Life.’
This fancy took the company extreamly, but they thought very sodainly they should receive more certain informations, in regard Valentine's servants were then opening the Castle gates; But they understood no more of all these mysteries, than if they had not belong'd to the House.
The Thief and Katherine were soon made loose and brought before the Curate and Valentine, who failed not to ask them divers questions concerning their present condition, why and by whom they had been so exposed. But the fear of a deserved punishment had made them resolve not to answer a syllable to any of their Interrogatories, knowing their cause was so ticklish, that they were more like to foile than free themselves by speaking. Katherine was asked by divers, "Since thou art a man, why dost thou weare a Womans cloaths? But they might have saved their breath, for all the threats and perswasions they did use, could not draw one word from her mouth. Lauretta being come down seemed no less amazed than the rest at the recitall all of these passages, and cunningly withdrawing her self by little and little into the Court (while every body else were busie in the Hall) she hasted to re-visite the Author of her last nights joyes, and after some close embraces for a last farewell, she conveyed him privately out of the Castle.
The Justice of the place (who lived by mischief and debates) not willing to lose his Snip, was very earnest in perswading Valentine to let him draw up informations against those offenders, urging the design of Katherine and her Companion could not be honest, and that they had attempted to rob him of his Goods or Honour. But Valentine, who not unacquainted with the malice of Law, was loth to render his purse as a prey to such ravenous Harpyes, refused to follow his advice, finding not any of his goods diminished. All he desired was to know by what accident those Creatures came to be hung in that manner at his windowes. The Justice, seeing there was nothing to be gained, would proceed no farther, for the Offenders could be drawne to no Confession, neither were the Spectators able to charge them with any matter of fact. So, Morning Prayers past, the poore Thieves had liberty to steale themselves out of the danger they apprehended. But for two or three Leagues they were pursued by such multitudes of people, crying and shouting after, as rendred the perplexity and shame they indured no lesse insupportable than the severest punishment of the Gallowes.
[ Thus they, whose perverse inclinations lead them to wicked actions, never prosper in their undertakings, but receive a salary suteable to their Crimes, as the severall passages here related testifie. Valentine, for the foolish curiosity that transported him to the Diabolicall practice of Necromancie, became a scerne to all. The Thieves, whose covetous desire of enriching themselves by others losse, made them attempt to reb the Castle, not onely failed of their intented purchase, but suffered publique shame and pain: Lauretta indeed, though she had strain'd courtesie with her conscience, received no present punishment nor reproach, but what's deferr'd we seldome finde is lost. As for Francion, his vicious intention was recompenc'd with harme enough, yet he resolved to beare his misfortunes with more patience than the rest.]
While he was in bed, and his senses well recovered, his man, who had been spectator of all the passages at the Castle, gave him an account of each particular, at which he burst into so violent a laughter, as made him forget his paine, yet his imagination could not penetrate the Thieves design, nor how they came to be so handsomely hung, though he remembred well enough Katherine's [Page 14]discourse to him in her Chamber; But when he came to the recitall of Valentine's conjurations, and in what equipage the Curate found him, his rapture was beyond expression.
As his Dinner was serving in, the Surgeon came to visit him, and seeing Wine brought up, he told him, he must drink none, because of the wound in his head. ‘This is a very rigorous sentence (replyed Francion) good friend deprive me not of that divine liquor, I prethee, It is the onely sustenance of my body, all the delicatest meats in the World are nothing comparable to it. Don't you know the pitifull Pretenders to Physick are commonly call'd fresh-water-Doctors because they can doe nothing but prescribe us that to drink? I believe their Prince Hippocrates was not of their opinion, for Hypocras (which is the most excellent drink we have) has its name from him, either because he loved it, or was the inventer of it. I knew a young Gentleman, who for some indisposition, and a hurt in his leg, was forbidden Wine, as you do me, lest it should impair his disease: But what do you think he did? He laid himself in bed contrary to the ordinary use, and put his feet upon the pillow, that the fumes of the Bacchicall liquor, he had plentifull exhausted, might descend to his head. And for my part, since my wound is in the other extremity of my body, I think it were my best way to rise and stand upright, to the end (seeing the Wine I shall then drink will rather descend to my feet than offend my head) you may not be so severe as to forbid it me.’ This said, Francion bade his man bring his clothes that he might rise.
The Country-Chirurgion willing to shew his skill, indeavoured to dispossess him of that humour, and confute his reasons, saying, ‘They were grounded upon the Maximes of a Tippling-house rather than the Axioms of Physick;’ Then he began to discourse in terms of his own Art, which though barbarous and unknown, he conceited himself at the highest pitch of Eloquence when he pronounced them, being infected with the disease of divers that believe their expressions are then best when least understood, not considering language is onely to make conceptions known, and he that has not the art to declare his meaning to all sorts of persons, is tainted with an ignorance not much lesse than brutall.
Francion having had the patience to heare him out, told him all his Aphorismes should not hinder him from rising, but he he would drink no Wine, notwithstanding (for mirth's sake) he had maintained such an Argument. ‘These are low poor spirited persons (continued he) as have not the power to curb their passions, and subject their appetites to reason upon such an account. For my particular, I must confess I am as great a lover of that liquor as any man, yet I can easily deny my self the use of it, or any thing else I never so dearly-fancy. Your temper is very remarkable (replyed the Chirurgion) the power my soul has over my body, is nothing nere so absolute; for I assure you, had Galen himself told me I should prejudice my health in drinking wine, I could not refrain it, and without it, were I placed neer a fountaine of the most curious water imaginable, I should perish with thirst. But Sir (persisted he) Certainly you cannot chuse but feele much paine by that fracture and contusion in your head, and yet you cannot refraine jesting. If you were throughly acquainted with me, and knew in what manner a man ought to live, you would not wonder at my humour (answered Francion:) The faculties of my Soule are so vigorous, that it easily repulses all sorts of discontents, and performes its ordinary functions without interruption, amidst the grandest indispositions of my body. The Chirurgion interrupting him, said smiling, Sir, excuse me if I say you oblige me now to credit the report is raised of you in this Village, which is, that you are very skilfull in matter of Magique; Otherwise you could never support with so much patience the wounds you have receiv'd. Besides (but that I cannot believe) 'tis said all that has passed this last night [Page 15]at Valentines Castle has been done by your Art; That you metamorphosed the servant Maid into a Man, deprived her of the use of Speech, and that you have not any reall wound in your head, but onely you abuse our eyes: And every one inclines the rather to this opinion, because no body can find out the cause of any of these strange successes.’
This pleasant imagination so tickled the fancy of our Patient, that he had like to have split himselfe with laughing. At length being cloath'd and set at Table with the Chirurgion (who was glad of the opportunity to dine upon his charge) ‘But cannot you tell (began Francion) whether I am still in Valentine's favour or not? in what tearmes does he speak of me? Not to conceale the truth (reply'd the Chirurgion) he speaks of you as of the wickedest Wizard in the world: He sayes, whereas he expected your Receipts should have done him some good, they have caused him an infinite deale of mischiefe. Though he has been long assured of his owne insufficiency, he would however make a tryall now to see if he could comport himselfe in Cupid's combat with his wife more vigorously than before; but alas! poore feeble fellow, he has got no credit by the attempt, his Standard falling when he should have entred the breach; So at length he was constrained to contract a dishonourable Peace with Lauretta. There is nothing but his Sally-port behind open; and that is so off the hooks, as it cannot retaine a liquid scurvy matter that escapes out every minute; Insomuch as he has intreated me, being his Gossip, to furnish him with a drug to stop those Overtures, and appease the sedition of those intestine Rebels, who not observing the places ordered them, fly forth without asking leave.’
‘Need I feare he will act any thing against me in revenge (answered Francion?) Hitherto (said the Barber) I mentioned nothing to you of his intention, because I thought you able by your Art to avoid all the Ambushes and Plots he can contrive against you; but Ile assure you he is resolved to neglect no opportunity to do you a mischief. Ile hold a wager he assembles the stoutest of the Village to apprehend you in your lodging this night, and carry you prisoner into his castle. That shall not hinder me (replyed Francion) from drinking his health in this glasse of Water, which I am going to imprison in my Belly.’ This said, they passed the rest of their dinner-time with other discourse.
They were no sooner risen from the Board, but divers of the Inhabitants, invited with a curiosity to see Francion, came to his Inne, and asked Where's the Pilgrim? Where's the Pilgrim? with so loud a voice, that he could hear distinctly what they said. Immediately he bolts his chamber doore, and though they thrust and knock'd against it, saying sometimes they wanted a Coffer within that room, sometimes they must speak with the Chirurgion, they could finde no admittance. At length they swore there was a man in the Village so desperately wounded, that he would die without the application of some present remedy, and they would have the Chirurgion out; But as they were ready to force their entrance, Francion and his man presented themselves at the doore with Pistolls in each hand, protesting they would discharge against whomsoever should dare to break in upon them.
The cowardly Clownes not accustomed to play upon such Pipes, were unwilling to assault upon such tearms, and going all away, gave the besieged time enough to rebarricadoe their Avenues. A short while after advances another troop, more numerous than the former, but returned with as little successe as their companions. Francion exceedingly displeased at the importunities of these Churles, resolved to get clear of them as soon as he could. So, having discharged the house, he communicates his intentions to his Host, desiring he would spare him a little Cart he had discovered standing in his yard, to carry him to some other town, where he might be lesse disquieted. His Host moved [Page 16]with his intreaty, presently ties two Hoops to the top of his Cart, upon them spreads a Coverled, and having laid all Francion's movables at the bottom, he advertised him it was then time to depart. The Pilgrim without delay mounts into the Cart, and places himself at his most ease upon a Bed of Straw, prepared purposely for his journey, while they drew him out of his lodging at a back gate into the open field, his Man followed immediately upon his Horse, and in this Equipage they cross'd the country without being discerned by any of that Village.
Some of the silly Swaines returning to the Inne as soon as they were gone, and finding neither Francion nor his Man in his Chamber, nor any other part of the house, concluded presently they were vanished, and had conveyed themselves out of their sight by the art of Necromancy.
As they marched, Francion took occasion to discourse sometimes with a young fellow that drove his Chariot, sometimes with his Man, to whom he thus began, ‘When I reflect upon the adventures befallen me this day, my fancy is so delighted with the lively representation of the instability of things in this world, that I can hardly forbeare laughing; yet I am sure I am in for my twenty Crowns and a Ring, which I have lost I know not how. Certainly those that carried me this morning to my Inne, must have search'd my Pockets: However there is but one remedy for such diseases, and that is that Noble vertue Patience, of which (Heavens be praised) I have a greater stock at present than of Rose-nobles. But consider a little the pretty vicissitudes of Fortune; Not long since I was clad with the sumptuous rayments of a gay Courtier, and now have nothing to cover me but the Weeds of a poor Pilgrim; I used to lodge under the golden roofes of stately Palaces, and now have no where to lye but in ditches, without any other seeling than the Firmament: My Couch had wont to be upon curious Satin Quilts, & this morning I found my self in a Tub of Water, which proved not half so easie: Heretofore I rod in Coaches with my Velvet Seats, and now I think it a happinesse to meet with a Sorry Cart, where I tumble in Straw like a Bedlam or Bridewell-Bird.’
This discourse made his Man return all the consolative Arguments his invention could suggest, and to express his sorrow for his Masters sad condition, ‘Sir, (continued he) it grieves me to see you in an estate so little suitable to your quality, for when Criminals are conducted to the place of Execution, for their greater ignominy they are commonly condemned to be carted, and if you would have pleased to hearken to my advice, you should not have been carried in that manner.’
‘Nothing troubles me so much (replyed Francion) as to hear people jeere me as I passe, and finde my self unable to sit my horse.’ At length perceiving Night begin by little and little to draw her sable Curtains about the Hemisphere, he bade the Carter hasten, lest losing their way in the dark, that nights lodging might prove as little comfortable to him as the former, yet his Guide assuring him they wanted not half a league to the town, he remained somewhat satisfied: But they had not gone much further before a worse misfortune befell them, something about one of the wheeles being broken; so they could not reach the end of their intended journey, but were forced to make a stand at a Wheeleright's shop in a little Village close by, where the haste of the advancing Night, and the slownesse of the Workman, made Francion quit his hopes of recovering the great town before them, and resolve to take a lodging there.
They were directed to the best Inne of the place, which was but poorely provided of every thing, and after they had eaten a supper, that did not overcharge their stomacks, they asked where they should lie. ‘I have but two beds above (answered the Host) and they are both taken up already. The two men that came with me (said Francion) shall sleep in the stable, or any [Page 17]where, but I must have a bed for my self, though I pay double for it. Sir (replied the Host) there is a Gentleman above that lies alone, Ile go ask him if he will please to spare you a part of his. This said, he went into the chamber, and presently returned Francion word, that when he pleased he might go take his rest in a bed, which the Gentleman above was willing to divide with him.’
Francion followed his Landlord into the room, and coming neere the bed side, ‘Sir (said he to the Gentleman) If I felt not my self much indisposed by a wound I have received in my head, necessity should not force me to be thus troublesome to you, I would rather chuse to lie all night upon a bed that cannot shake nor stir, unlesse the whole Universe were tottering, and where I should have no other Curtains nor Teaster than the Canopy of Heaven to cover me. However, the cause that brought me hither will lose all the power it had to perswade me to stay, if I perceive you unwilling to permit me. Sir (replyed the Gentleman) speak not of any incommodity, it is impossible your company should bring me any inconvenience, yet were it so, I should willingly endure [...]t to do you any service: nay, I should rise and resign the possession of this bed to your self alone, that you might the better take your rest, if I considered not you might think I did it in disdain.’
This courtesie of the Gentlemans was not ill requited by Francion, who summoned the most courtly expressions he could invent to thank him as his civility deserved.
As they were both laid, the Gentleman told his bed-fellow, that his gallant Garb and Countenance, wherein he perceived nothing of Vulgar, was the charm that had won his affection, and invited him to make a tender of all the services he was able to do him. Francion (whose name was rightly imposed upon him for his Franc disposition) answered him without flattery, ‘That he conceived himself much obliged for those large expressions, but (though 'twas against his interest) he would not advise him to ground his judgement upon such weak appearances, which commonly are deceitfull, but rather consider, how by communication oftentimes we find a most deformed Soule cased in a curious Body, whereby those, who look no farther than the out-side, are deceived.’
‘I know I am not mistaken (replyed the Gentleman) the longer I frequent your company, the better I shall understand the truth of those Characters I read in your countenance seeme to dictate to my imagination. I have an opinion the rules of Physiognomie are not erroneous; and if they are to be credited, so lovely a person cannot be destitute of qualities suteable to the appearance. Besides, I have knowne a young Gentleman much resembling you, that is Master of more estimable parts than any I ever frequented. All these considerations make me big with curiosity to know who you are, from what Pilgrimage you come, and what rude creatures have so ill treated you. To tell you who I am, and repeat all the passages of my life, at this time is impossible (answered Francion) the relation of so tedious a story will require more time than I am now willing to spend, being more desirous to sleep than talk; yet I shall not stick to recount you my last adventures, which I am confident will not be unpleasant to you. And though it were more fit to conceal such things, I shall make no scruple to discover each Particular to you, since your goodnesse lets me know I cannot commit my secrets to a surer guard.’
‘You may take notice then (continued he) my name is Francion, and being a few months since at Paris, not in the poore weeds you saw me, but trick'd up like a spruce Courtier, walking on foot along the street, I met the most amiable creature in Citizens habit my eyes had ever beheld. The feaver of Love had presently seized on me with such violence, that I knew not what I did or said, My heart beat quicker measure within my bosom, than that little [Page 18]wheele that tells Minutes in Watches. My eyes began to dart more sparkling flames than the Evening-starre, and as if they had been fixt in the same sphere, as that beautifull Planet I newly had discovered, they exactly followed her Motion; she was my Pole, she the Load-stone that attracted my body as well as thoughts; where ever she went I was not far behinde her. At length she made a stand at a Goldsmiths shop upon the Change-bridge, and eclips'd her self from my sight: But being past as far as the Palace-clock, I felt my heart prick'd with so violent a passion, that my feet were forced to obey the desires of my minde, and carry me back to gain a second view of this admired Object. I resolved to go into the same shop and buy something, on purpose to finde an occasion of staying till she went, but not knowing what to demand, I stood long stammering at this word, sh, sh, shew me, at last I said, shew me the fairest Diamond you have. The Master of the shop, busie in shewing a Neck-lace of Pearl to my Goddesse, could not presently come to give me an answer, which pleas'd me better than if he had given me a Jewel for nothing; for by that means I had the opportunity to contemplate with attention, Eyes that out-sparkled his preciousest Stones, Hair more beautifull than his Gold, and a Skin more white and s [...]ooth than his Orientall Pearls. After he had finished with her, he brought me what I demanded, and understanding his price, I addressed my self to the Lady, desiring she would be pleased to let me see her purchase, onely to create an occasion of accosting her. Another Woman in her company, that had the Neck-lace in her hand, offer'd it me very willingly, and afterwards returning it again to her, said, Here Mrs. Bride, take the Spouses Present and let's make hast home again, for 'tis already late.’
‘By these words I knew this young wanton (if not already married) was then upon the point of sacrificing at Hymen's Altar, and therefore came to fit her selfe with necessaries suitable for the solemnity. There was with her an old worn-out fellow that disburs'd all the mony, at first I took him for her Father; but I wondered, after they were gone, when the Goldsmith said to me, Do you see that old Blade Sir? He is to be married: Is not he a fit Bedfellow for such a sprightly Girle? I answered onely with a smile, and speaking softly to one of my Lackies, I bade him follow those people, and watch where they housed.’
‘The Goldsmith could give me no account of their names nor qualities at that time, but promised me to inform himself of one of his neighbours that was acquainted with them. After I had bought a Diamond of no great value, and bespoke a Seale with my Arms, I returned to my ordinary lodging, where my Lackie, who had been well instructed in such Love-Commissions, brought me a perfect description of the form and scituation of the lodging of the fair Lauretta, whom I styled already my Mistress: Besides, he told me the name of the old Man accompanied her, was Valentine, as he had learnt by chance, of a man that saluted him aloud in the street. Next day I failed not to take my walk before that house, where my joy was enclosed; after certain turns, I had the happinesse to see my Angel at the doore, and saluted her with such speaking looks, as she might easily perceive her eyes had made a conquest of my soul.’
‘Thence, without further complement, I went to fetch my Seal at the Change Bridge, where the Goldsmith confirmed what my Lackey said, and withall told me, this Valentine was Steward or Baily to a great Noble man, named Alidan, and for his Mistress, he assured me her name was Lauretta, but he could not as yet be informed of her extraction. But such particulars [...] esteemed very frivolous for me to know; all I desired, was onely to accost the sweet Lauretta. But Fortune was so little favourable to my designs, that though I feined twenty errands to passe before her lodging, I scarce could see [Page 19]her once. At last, one Evening finding her alone at the door, I seemed as if I had mistaken the house, and with a complement full of respect, desired her to inform me if a Gentleman (whose name I had invented) lived thereabouts. When she had answered me, She knew no such person, I counterfeited much amazement, saying, He assured me his lodging was in this street? yet I left not the reall Object of my pains to seek after the fictitious. She, who suspected somewhat by my stay, began immediately to braoch another discourse, and asked me if I lived not in those parts my self, in regard she had observed me passe often times that way? Encouraged with this favourable overture, I presently answered, No, my habitation was far distant thence, but her beauty was accompanied with such powerful attractions, as drew me daily thither by a kind of sweet constraint, to pay the homage due to such perfection. Pardon my unbeliefe Sir, (replyed she with a pretty grace) It must questionlesse be an Object of far higher merit than any I can own to oblige a person of your quality to take so many steps; and so continued her discourse a pretty while, in tearms of a very ingenious humility. But not suffering her to run too far in disparaging her own worth, I raised her again by my praises to the Starres, concluding with this ordinary complemnnt, The admirable qualities you possesse (Madam) make my ambition nothing more, than the honour of bearing the Character of your Slave.’
‘This discourse pleasing her humour, she quickly made me understand how cunning an Artist she was at this exercise, for seeing she had no Novice to deal with, she displayed all the subtilest artifices, and used the smartest expressions her ingenuity could dictate; Insomuch, I assure you to my shame, I was in a manner foiled, and in no better condition than a poore Horse that is to march upon ice, and wants frosting.’
‘This pretty Confidence, and the Gentilesses she entertained me with, (resenting nothing of Vulgar spirit) took me exceedingly, and were to my Passion as Oyle cast upon fire. Her wedding, which was soon after celebrated, bred no disturbance in my thoughts, for I conceived I need not afflict my self that such a decayed stump preceded me in the possession of her bed; for had his aged Body been answerable in Vigour to her youthfull mind, he could not have violated her Virginity; She (if my judgement faile me not) having long before eased her selfe of that Burthen. In fine, Hope was my Panacea, the onely balme I applyed to mitigate all the dolours of my wounded fancy. My Imagination comforted me with a conceit, that infallibly Lauretta being as full of Youth as Beauty, could be no lesse than glad to entertaine correspondence with a friend, who sometimes in her Husbands stead might doe a work that must not be left undone, and which in effect is the principall peace-maker in a Family. It would require the strength of an Atlas back to stand to so hard a task as is the satisfying the amorous Emotions of a lustfull Woman. Feeble Valentine's Back (in my opinion) was not able enough to support that weighty burthen, nor perform so expected a duty, without the courteous relief of some more vigorous Assistant: And I though my fidelity would ingage Lauretta to favour me with that desired toile above all men breathing.’
While I flattered my fancy with these thoughts, an Accident, I little suspected, blasted all my hopes in the Budd; It was this, Valentine (his Nuptiall Solemnities past) takes an eternall leave of Paris, and carryes his young Spouse and Train to his owne habitation in the Country: I inquired of divers the place of his retreat, and at length, learnt it was in this County, at a Castle of his Masters, not above four leagues from hence. I fumed and raged with despair for the loss of my Lauretta, without whose presence I thought it impossible for me to live. After the contrivance of a multitude of strange designes, my disturb'd Mind lean'd to the resolution of unpluming my Ambition, and imping [...]
[Page 22]By all this you may easily see his Conditions were very crooked, his heart perverse and mervailously propense to all illicite pleasures; yet he was deceived by false charmes, and injoyed not the happinesse he had promised his lustfull thoughts, but on the contrary, was reduced to a very pittifull Equipage; which may serve as a Patterne and Instruction for those that delight in such dissolute courses, and make them acknowledge they are in the Path of Perdition.
THE COMIQUE HISTORY OF
FRANCION.
The second Book.
THe desire Francion had to repose his bruised bones, made him intreat the Gentleman that lay by his side, to have patience till next morning, if he desired any farther information of his proceedings, or would move any questions concerning what he had recited: But when he was asleep, his Companion, ravished with the pleasantry of the severall passages he had heard, was divers times ready to wake him with bursting into a loud laughter, yet his courtesy and civil respects to the stranger, contending with the violence of his Emotion, made him become so much Master of himself, as not to give his Passion any other vent than by an inward titillation. Reflecting upon the name of Francion, he began to remember the personage he had frequented in his tender years: But his Actions and the lively description of his humour gave better instructions to his Memory, than the lineaments of his feature. However he resolved not to discover so sodainly the particular familiarities had formerly pass'd between them: At length wearied with variety of imaginations, he suffered his Spirits to submit to the charmes of overcomming sleep, which playing the gentle thief, soon rob'd him of both sense and motion.
In another Bed in the same chamber, lay a certain old Woman, who tired with travelling on foot, had taken up her lodging there, before any other company arrived: By this time her first sleep was ended, and she had lost the power, aswell as the desire of sleeping any more, when Francion approach'd the Period of his Narration; so she perceived he was a servant to the faire Dame Lauretta, of whom no body could give a better accompt than her self: and had not wearinesse and sleep barricado'd up her ears when he began his story, she might have learn't his name, which would have given her no lesse cognizance of him: For she had often heard him mentioned, and sometimes seen him at the Court.
So not knowing who he was, the desire of being inform'd, and the curiosity she had to see his face, not onely hindred her repose, but made her leave her Couch and strike fire (with a little tinder-box she bore about her) to light a candle, which directed her steps to that side of the bed she conceived (by the sound of his voice) he lay. Had you seen her advance her trembling limbs with the candle in her hand, and no other covert than her smock, you would have fancied her a Skeleton that had borrowed motion from the power of inchantment. [Page 22] [...] [Page 23] [...] [Page 24]Having softly opened the curtain, she turn'd down the cloath a little way, that cover'd his face, and viewing him by the help of her light, her Doubt soon turned into a Confidence, he was the same Francion she had known at Court.
The Beauties of Lauretta had gain'd so intire a possession of Francion's heart, that though sleep had made a seizure of this body, his active Spirits were agitated at this instant, with the thoughts of her in a dream so turbulent, as after the proffer of three or four ill-ranged words, he started out of the bed. The old Woman ready to sink down with fear, withdrew a little aside, and rested her self upon a chair, setting her candle upon a coffer by her. Francion, after severall turnings to and fro, threw himself upon her, with these words, Ah my sweet Lauretta, I have thee, I have thee, it is impossible thou should'st escape me now.
The Gentleman (who waked at the noise the old Woman made to light her candle, though he would not speak) fell into so violent a laughter, as made the bed shake under him. As for the old Woman, she hugg'd Francion as amorously as he embraced her, and to answer his Caresses, she glued her lips to his, glad she had so happily incountred one that did her a better turn than had been offer'd her since Venus lost her Maiden-head; before whose birth (I believe by her furrowed face) the flower of her Beauty (if ever she had any) was faded.
But Francion's Bed-fellow stopp'd the current of her contentment; for pulling away her kind Kisser by the hinder part of his shirt, he replaced him in his bed, and then, How Sir? (said he) your Lauretta. resembles Ʋglinesse it selfe, or else certainly you do not know her well, since you take this creature for her. Ah Heavens (reply'd he, rubbing his eyes) let me sleep, what is't you talk of? Lift up your head (continu'd the other) and see who you have been embracing: How? Who have I imbraced? (answered Francion.) Do you not remember you held me lock'd a good while in your arms, said the old Woman laughing, and shewing two discoloured teeth, that stood in her mouth like a weather-beaten Battlement, or two remaining Pinacles of an old ruined Steeple; Yes, 'tis true, you did imbrace and kisse me too.
Francion, viewing her as well as his drowsie eyes would give him leave, answered, ‘Boast not of what I have done to thee; for know I took thy Mouth for no better than a Sink, or Common shore, and being ready to disembogue, I approached thee, that I might spoil nothing in this room, but cast my Ordures in a place, whose filthinesse and infectious stench admits of no increase; 'tis possible after a little time I should have turn'd thee my Backside too, and made thy Mouth my Privy: And if I did touch thy skin, it was because I took it for a piece of old Parchment, fit for no other use than to wipe a hole thy Nose is not good enough to smell to. Ah Sir (said he, turning towards the Gentleman) Will you perswade me then I could shew any kindnesse to this old Biggin'd ape? Don't you see she has nothing in her but what's capable to strangle Love and ingender Hate? Her haires are fitter instruments for the Devills to dragg soules by into Pluto's Kingdome, than to make chaines for Cupid to captive Lovers hearts. If she continue much longer in this World, it is because they will have none of her in Hell, and the Tyrants that governe there are afraid she is the Furie of the Furies. Have patience (answer'd the Gentleman) you receive no dishonour for imbracing her; Her eyes, more ardent than those wandering flames are often seen in Marshes and about Rivers sides, have drawne you into this Precipice; the glutinous quality of that blearie humour overflowes them may serve for a sufficient excuse of your desire, if you had the mischance to be caught for a while their Prisoner.’
This discouse drew the old Woman, with her candle in her hand, to the Bedside [Page 25]and made her address these words to Francion, ‘If you had considered I am your good friend Agatha, who has been always ready to do you pleasures at Paris, you would not have requited my Courtesie with such injurious language. Ah, ah, it is you then (answered Francion, with much seeming amazement) I know you very well; It's not a moneth yet since I was cured of a clap you made me get at little Iames: Admit you were pepper'd (replyed Agatha) you ought not to impute the fault to me; as true as this candle burns, the impudent little quean swore to me, she was as pure as Pearl of Or [...]riant, you would say Orient (interrupted the Gentleman.) 'Tis confess'd replyed Agatha) but it is no matter how I speak, I understand my self well enough.’
This said, Agatha put her candle out, and returned to her own Bed, leaving them to rest till morning, which arrived, they all began to rise at once. The Gentleman knowing Francion came but in a Cart, advised him to send it back, and offer'd him a better conveniency to continue his journey; this courtesie accepted, he dismiss'd his Conductor, with charge to tell no body whither he had brought him: And after they had breakfasted together, Agatha, to satisfie the Genteleman, who ask'd her in private, whence she came, and whither she was then going; told him she came from Paris, and had taken that journey purposely to see Lauretta, and indeavour to purchase some graces from her for a young Exchecquer-man infinitely enamour'd of her. ‘'Tis hope of profit makes thee do this, said the Gentleman: Yes Sir, reply'd she; Then (continued he) suppose another should promise thee a greater reward, wouldst thou not rather procure his contentment than the former's?’ This not denied, the Gentleman persisted, ‘Let me conjure thee to decline this other engagement, & endeavour to bring Lauretta to my Castle, where she shall see her Francion, whom she values above all, as thou wilt learn by her own expressions; If thou perform'st this service, He give thee as large contentment as thy own heart can wish, and take thou no further care, we [...]l dedicate that day to Bacchus, and the God of Love; nor shall there ought be wanting that may contribute to the compleating of our joyes, onely be secret, and discover not who I am.’ Agatha promised to coin false money for him, if it were needfull; and then returning to Francion, she fell into the discourse of his affections: ‘You dote upon a malicious ill-condition'd woman (said she) I am sure Lauretta would be no whit sorry to see you drown'd, so she had the cloathes: she does nothing but for profit. That I have some reason to believe (replyed Francion) for hearing me speak of a faire Emerald I had, she begg'd it of me, and after I promised to give it her, she shewed me a kinder countenance than before. In the story I heard you relate last night, I observed (continued Agatha) you said a Maid made you fall from the top of a ladder to the ground; questionlesse 'twas by her Mistress command, she gave you so rude a treatment, and perchance she help'd her too, she's base enough to act as unworthy things: Don't you perceive the impossibility she pretended for you to see her Mistresse was an absolute lie? She could have given you more easie entrance into the Castle than by the window, but onely she had a minde to set a greater price upon her favours by that imaginary difficulty. The bridge was drawn up (said Francion) I could not get in any other way. She might have received you in the Castle in the day-time, and hid you in some private corner, replyed Agatha. That could not be contrived without danger, answered Francion. I perceive you love her so well (continued Agatha) you cannot believe she has any harm in her; you think all the vertues desirable in one of her sex, have so fortified themselves in her soule, as they defend her integrity, and hinder the approach of any vice. Perhaps you conceive she is as pure a Virgin as when her Mother brought her into the world, because you know Valentine is no such valiant Combatant, as to force an entrance: [Page 26]But Ile cure you of this disease, and recount you the perfect story of her life, that you may understand her humour, and know what trade she drives. For, since the weather is so foul, we cannot yet go forth, we must have some divertisement to quicken the Pace of Time.’
No sooner had she spoke these words, but the Gentleman bending his steps towards her, acknowledged the courtesie of her offer, and assured her he would be very glad to heare her stories, for they could not be disagreeable: So, after a little pause, and saying she should give them an account of her own, as well as Lauretta's actions, she thus prepared their attention.
I will not play the Hypocrite to you (Gallants) nor be nice in revealing my youthfull Amouretts, in regard I find you are not Dosser-headed like divers others, and I know 'tis a glory for me to have followed the instinct of Mother Nature. You must take notice then, my Father, not being able to maintaine me alwaies at home, by reason of his great charge, and small revenue, put me at fifteen yeares of age, to serve a Gentlewoman in Paris, whose husband had some office towards the Law: In faith she was the wicked'st woman I ever saw; oh Heavens! how will you believe it? He that needed her, had been better he had be wedg'd to a Gibbet, or chain'd to a seat in a Gallie, than link'd to her in the bonds of Matrimony, his sufferance would not have been half so great: As soon as e're she could get ready in a morning, she presently went to play; & frolickt with her neighbour Gossips. If my Master came in late from the Hall, 'twas to small purpose to complain of emptiness and hunger, she never took care to provide any thing for his dinner; for, because her stomack was cramm'd with junkets and good drink, she thought others were as full as she. Besides, if he began to give his tongue the liberty to express his dislike, he was forc'd to close his mouth again immediatly, for fear of irritating her fury more; Else she would stun's ears with such incessant rayling, as he must have put on the armour of Job's patience to endure it. Though 'twas the multiplicity of his occasions often hindered him from coming home betimes, shee'd scould, and say his drunken companions had made him stay bowzing in some scurvy Cabaret. This would make him take his Cloak and goe dine abroad, but that made his cause still worse; for she used so to contrive the businesse, that some of her Gossips should send some unsuspected messenger to watch whither he went, and then she would begin to rante in these termes: You see my house is detestable to him, he never cares to come in't, neither to Bed nor Board & so continu'd her clamours till some of her friends reprov'd her.
I give you leave to judge, if I had not a pleasant time in her service; Heaven knows how often she has made me sup by roat, when she had bin feasting all day among her fellow-Bibbers, & how many thumps and pinches she has given me, especially if I set but a pin awry in her dress; and many times with a needle she us'd to hold in hand, she would goad my armes when I least suspected danger. Once the Kitchin-maid being out of the way at dinner-time, I was commanded to make an Aumelet, it being Friday, but because I had put in one bad Eg, and some tallow fell by chance into the pan, my M rs, clapp'd it like a mask all over my face. If I had not pleas'd her at any time in my work, when any of her Gossips came to visit her, I was the only subject of their discourse. My maid (saies she) does this, & she does that, as I am an honest woman she's almost a perfect Devil, she wants nothing of it but the horns. Mine (answer'd another of the Gossips) exceeds her in wickedness, Ile tell you some of her tricks: Then she began to reckon up her Maids faults, among others, she said, whereas a Vessel of wine used to last 3. Months, it would not hold out two since that wench had the key of the Cellar; that having a shrewd suspition she used to drink out of the Pot every time she went to draw Wine, to be ascertain'd of her doubt, she smear'd the inner ring of the pot-lid with ink, so the wench returned with a black cressant on her forehead, which discovered what she had formerly denied: If she were sent of an errand, she was so full of chat, as a whole dayes time was little enough for her to finde [Page 27]the way home againe, especially if she met with any idle fellowes that would hold her in discourse of Love. This was our Mistresses conversation when they met.
But Ile assure you, when chance conducted me into the company of that Maid, her Mistress had so blazon'd, I wanted neither Tongue nor Memory to repeat her every Particular. Then we took our turns to prattle, having the opportunity to condole each other's misfortunes, and we ripped up our Madams faults as fast as they had ours: Oh! 'tis a Soveraign Pleasure to speak ill of those have given the offence; and you may think we were not sparing of our tongues.
Now I must tell you how, and wherefore I left that service: My Mistress was very sumptuous in her rayment, and her greatest contentment consisted in being gallanter than her Neighbours; so that if she saw any one with a new Gown, or other toy alamode, she was mad to have the like; this reduced her to comportments extreamly contrary to her disposition; for she was forc'd to fawn and caress her husband with extraordinary submissions to draw the Marrow out of his Purse. ‘Ah my Dear! my Minion (would she say, smothering him almost with throngs of kisses) Wilt thou alwaies endure that little Beggers brat at the corner of our street, who was taken not long since lowsing under a hedge, should out-brave and scoff at me every time she meets me, as if I were nothing in comparison of her, because she has a finer Gown than I? Wilt thou alwaies suffer me to look but like a Dish-clout, or a Maukin, to her, and if Chance brings me into her company, I should be taken for no better than her Chamber-maid? Dost not thou know her Husband's Profession is not so honourable as thine, and that she is not worth, at the utmost, twelve thousand Francs, whereas thy Wife, if duly esteemed, is better than fifteen thousand? I have had never a new Gown nor Petticoat since my Wedding day, I prethee give me mony to furnish my self now.’
This was the discourse she made her Husband in her necessities, and having learned the trick to sweeten him, and lull his minde asleep with pleasing Daliances, promising to recompence his liberality with an obedient observance for the future, sometimes she obtain'd what ever she desired of him.
One day, her vanity pressing her to desire a Neck-lace of bigger Pearles than those she had, she resolved to make recourse to her ordinary flatteries; but something had put my Master in so froward a humour, that he repuls'd her with such terms as she deserv'd: finding faire language would prevail nothing with him, she flew into another extremity, and began to revile him in the basest and bitterest manner her fury could invent: She reproached him with ingratitude, telling him, had it not been for her, he might be glad to be received in a Hospitall, that the fortune she brought had raised him from the Dunghil, and yet he refused to give her a petty summe of money to buy her necessarries: She called him Sonne of a Peasant, and said he was fitter to work day-work in the Vineyards (as he was bred to while he was young) than to be her Husband. This touch'd him to the quick, and to revenge himself, somewhat he reply'd, The plain Country people, without fraud and malice, were every whit as good as such cheating Merchants as her Father was: Then he began to summe up the knaveries, usuries and extortions of her Progenitors. Hereat her rage was so increased, that, setting her arms a-kemboll, and darting fire from her eyes, How now Villaine (said she) art thou then so audacious, as to speake ill of him, who took so much pains to purchase the estate thou now enjoyest? Ha! by S. Barbara, Merchants are a thousand times more estimable than such rascally Proctors as thou art. Thou makest thy boasts among thy Pot-companions, that by thy industry, thou hast got the greatest part of the Estate thou now possessest; but thou liest (false [Page 28]Traitor) all came from my deare Father, whose soule is now in glory: Alas (continued he, with a showre of teares, and many intermittent sobbs) he never committed so grand an errour, as that of giving me in marriage with such a Jew as thou art. Then having given her heart a little ease by the vent of her eyes, she began to reproach his profession, telling him if he had added any thing to the fortune she brought him, it was but by cousening and screwing up his Clients; from these Generalls she descended to the repetition of his particular Crimes in such open tearms, as had he been in the humour to have gone presently to confession, he needed no better Directory, than her tongue to instruct him what he had to accuse himself of before the Priest.
This was a good conveniencie: and it was but beating her upon any great Holydaies-Eve (if he desired to recall to his memory any past offences) and it would save him the labour of perusing the Miroic of Confession.
By chance a Country-fellow being in the Office with his Clerk, heard (among other things) my Mistresse charge her Husband with cheating that poore man not long before, making him pay six Crownes for expedition of a businesse that was not worth one. Interest adding Boldnesse to his Rusticity, the Swaine stept chafing into the roome where the dispute was held, and with much clamour, You Master Proctor (said he) Restore me the five Crownes you took of me th'other day more than was your due, Ile appeale to your Wifes testimony if I have not reason to demand it. My Master having his mind sufficiently perplext already, returned him no answer; This silence made the Clowne cry louder; meane time my Mistresse held her peace, having almost rent her throat with brawling; and leaving them to decide their owne difference, she flung out of the house, with so much fury in her face, as her looks would have frighted any that fixt their eyes upon her. I, whose office it was to follow her like a shadow when ere she went abroad, failed not of my duty at that time, but waited on her to a Kinsmans house of hers, where she took full liberty to inveigh against the basenesse and avarice of her husband; and concluded her railing with a Vow she would be divorced from him. This Kinsman, who understood the querks and malices of Law, ingaged to commence and prosecute the Sute. At length, because she was a friend to him that sate at that time Judge in all such Causes, (of whom Ile say no more, than that he was as honest a man as some others of his Cloth) she obtain'd a Writ of Separation.
The Sentence passed thus in her favour, she continued still in the house where she first retired, and received frequent Visits of severall spruce young Gallants: Among the rest, one of a very gentile and winning garbe, (after lending me certaine amorous looks in my Mistresses chamber, that displeased me not) as I waited on him downe with a Candle, offered to kisse me upon the staires; but I thrust him so rudely back, as I perceived much dis-satisfaction in his countenance at my coynesse. A few dayes after he return'd, and in recompence of his former fault, he handsomely convey'd into my hand some Quardecu's, which rendred me as pliant and supple as a Spanish Glove; not that I was ready to accord him the least favour in the world; I mean onely, I felt something plead an interest for him in my inclinations.
I never could have thought he affected me so much, as afterwards I perceived he did, if a strange woman I met by chance at the Hall, had not assured me of his love, telling me, I had then the opportunity of making my selfe the happiest Woman breathing, if I would but leave my Mistress and go dwell with him. This was enough to make me spread my Plumes, and conceit my selfe much handsomer than my Mistress, since one of her own Pigeons left her Dovecoat to come to mine. And in effect, I remember she was so jealous of me, while I lived with her husband, that one time she refused to take her recreation in the Countrey, lest in her absence he should have made me lie in the high Bed.
[Page 29]You laugh (Gentlemen to heare me talk thus; What? Cannot you believe I was beautifull in my youth? Do you think in divers parts of the earth, which now appeare all rugged, and full of furrowes and Cart-ruts, it is impossible there should heretofore have been most curious Gardens inriched with all sorts of Plants, and enamell'd with divers delicate Flowers? So may it not as well be granted, that this face of mine, though laid all in plaits, and cover'd with a dry discolour'd skin, has in my youth been plump, smooth, and of a pure complexion? Are you yet ignorant of the power of Time, whose inexorable hand spares nothing? Yes, yes Gallants, in those daies (I can tell you) my eyes were the Love-god [...] Arsenall, there he stor'd up his keenest shafts, and their lightning was the Artillerie he used to quell and inflame Mens hearts: Had I been then so wise I might have had my Picture drawne, It would have stood in some stead now, to prove this Verity, which you will scarce believe from my relation; But alas! if I had it now to shew, it would make me shed more teares, than my lovers ever did for me, there would be no end of my sorrow for the losse of those attractions I then was Mistresse of; yet my comfort is, what graces soever by the indulgence of nature I then possess'd, I employed them well enough (Heavens be praised) I'me sure there's no body living in all France can speak of my deportments but my self, all my acquaintance of those daies are gone to prick me out a lodging in the other world.
She whok new the most of my affair [...] departed one of the first, that was Dame Perretta, who accosted me at the Hall: She indeed fed me with as many splendid hopes as any Wench of my condition could ever expect, and prayed me to come to her house as soon as I could unfasten my self from my Mistresse. This assurance of a retiring place, made me resolve to leave my service, and the very same day I took occasion to tell her I would be gone, having indured a loud Lecture of an hour long, for buying some fish that stunk.
When I had pack'd up all my things, I trudg'd to finde Perretta out, whose golden promises made me expect no less than an Epitome of Paradise: See how simple I was in that age of innocence. After some other discourse in her own house, ‘Mother (said I to her) What is the reason you do not accept of this gallant condition your self, which you say you have procured for me? Why do not you go serve this noble Gentleman, where you shall be maintained with good Clothes, great Cheer, and never work but when you list? Because I love thee better than my self (answered she, laughing) Ah! thou art an ignorant creature, I see it is but need thou shouldst come to be instructed at my School; Did not I tell thee he loves thee? and dost not thou see I am no Bait for such Fish, my time is past for Gallants Palats? He must have a young tender Bit, that must serve him as well in Bed as at Board.’ This said, she began an Oration, in her School-terms, full of perswasive Arguments, to make me chase away those fond Concomitants of the Female Sex, Feare and Shame, condemning the foolish scruples and niceties of some Women; and in conclusion, she represented me the Delights of Love so feelingly, as my attentive Ears sucking in all her Words, convayed her Reasons to my Heart, whereby convinc'd, I resolv'd to follow her Counsels, imagining she could not erre, since Age and Experience had given her a Knowledge in all things.
Monsieur de la Fontaine (so that gallant Gentleman fancied me, was call'd) failed not to come that afternoon to Perretta's house, whence he resolved not to stir, till she had executed the Commission he gave her to seduce me. As soon as he was permitted to see me, he exprest an extream satisfaction, and finding me willing to do what he should please to command, after rewarding his Procuress well, he made me be carried with some houshold-stuffe, to a Country-house he had not far from Paris.
[Page 30]All the while I stayed there in day-time, he used me as his servant, and at night, to make me amends, he treated me as if I had been his wife. There I learnt what it was to lie with Men, and was sorry for nothing I had not begun to taste those sweets of copulation sooner: After a little time, I grew so wonted to these delights, that I could want them no more than Meat or Drink. The mischief was. Monsieur de la Fontaine falling sick, I was enforc'd to suffer the rigour of a Fast, though I alwayes lay in the same Bed with him; For, he said he loved me so well, that if he onely touched me a little, he fancied he felt some abatement of his paines: But all this abated not the heat of my Desires. At last, not able to containe my self any longer, I resolved to lend an eare to the importunate pursuit of a Valet in the House, who was so ambitious, as to envie his Masters priviledge, and desire to be mounted on his Saddle. We were not long a forging together the Bonds of an Amorous familiaritie, & I found by effects, the Bravery and high quality of a person are not the things a woman ought to look upon, when onely her heightned appetite invites her to taste the sweets of Love; for, that fellow with his course russet slops gave me the injoyment of as much pleasure as his Master in his Satin suites.
At length Monsieur de la Fontaine, recovering perfect health, payed me to the full all his Arreares of Love, and his Man never failed to do his part, when I could give him opportunity, so that my Field never lay fallow, and if it produced no fruit, it was not for want of tillage.
I cannot tell what you mean, Francion, but by your gesture I conceive you laugh at me: Do you wonder to hear me relate the naked truth? Is it possible that silly Modesty, befit none but fooles, should be esteemed by so brave and knowing a Gentleman as you?
The Discomposure of my Countenance (answered Francion) proceeds from nothing, but the exceeding satisfaction and delight that ravishes me to hear you discourse with so much freedom; and there remains nothing to compleat my contentment, but that you will hasten to acquaint us with the story of Lauretta.
Every thing in its proper place (replyed Agatha) you shall have no occasion to be weary, nor think me over tedious: Monsieur de la Fontaine's Man having entered into my favour by little and little, gain'd a greater share in my affections than his Master, in regard the equality of our conditions permitted me to speak more familiarly to him and in fine, I divided my heart no longer in two parts, but gave him intire possession of the whole.
I had some inkling, that my Master, perswaded by his friends to leave that course of life, was upon termes of Marriage. His deliberation made me contrive a designe for my own advantage, being in a manner sure, when he brought home his Wife, she would make him turne me shamefully out of doores. To prevent this disparagement, I resolved to play him a slippery trick by slight of hand, that should more than pay me my wages, and steale away with my purchase in the night. Marsault, my beloved fellow-servant, acquainted with my intentions, was easily perswaded to assist me in the attempt: so, as the Fates would have it, our Master, a few dayes after, was solicited to take a thousand Livers in part of a Mortgage of some Land he had then in his hand; This money I saw him tell piece after piece, and discovered (his house being not very well furnished) he was content to trust it in the drawer of a Court-cup-board.
Fortune continued her smiles as favourably as I could desire in this Occurrence, for he was invited that night to supper at a Country-gentleman's house, a long league from his own. As soon as we thought him sure, Marsault turned the Cup-board, and having taken out a board behinde, drew all the mony out, and afterwards mended it againe the best he could; And for my better advantage, it was almost all Gold: so I could easily put the whole summe in a little Box.
[Page 31]About Nine a clock at night, we went both into the Garden to escape out at the back doore, and Marsault was already forth, when I heard my Master knocking at the fore-gate: the fear of being followed and surprized, made me shut the Garden door, and run back into the house to let him in, and lest the Money should be found about me, I stole downe in the night and hid it in a Vineyard within our inclosure, where seldome any body used to enter. Next morning my Master feeling in his Cup-board, and not finding what he left there, he thunder'd most terribly about the house, and at last understanding his Man had been absent ever since the night before, he had no suspition of any body else but him: For my part I conceived Marsault, not daring to returne home, stayed somewhere thereabouts expecting my comming: But 'twas impossible for me to follow him so quickly; for, then I had quitted the resolution of going away without my Masters leave; However I indeavour'd to hasten my departure, and to that purpose one day I told him, I heard he was upon the point of Marriage, which effected I could not remaine any longer in his house.
After a little faint denyall he consented to my leaving him, and I believe he was glad I made the first Motion. Both parties agreed, I went one night to digg up my treasure, and next morning fairely took my leave. With what my Master gave me, and I had purchased by my own industry, I thought my self exceeding rich, and my Rendez-vous was at Perretta's house, where I was received with much joy and courtesie. When she understood what money I had, she counsell'd me to make use of that, as a bait to draw in more such Customers, and made me put my self in the habit of a 'Damoiselle, which (she said) made me look like a little Nymph of the Woods. Oh Heavens! how glad was I to see my self trick'd up in such gay rayments, and have alwayes some young gallants addressing their courtship to me, as if I had been some Lady of high quality: But the presents I received were not of such Value as to defray our Charges, which were great as well for Diet as House-rent; Besides Perretta would have the happinesse (as well as I) to play the Gentlewoman a little before her death: So that in short time I saw the end of my Gold, and had nothing to live on but my bare industry.
One evening Perretta condoling with me the Calamities of the Times, we heard a bustling in the street: Her curiosity carried her to the Doore to see what the matter was. But she admired, when a man running as fast as his legs could beare him, put into her hands a Velvet Cloak lined through with a rich Plush, without speaking a word to her; I thought it was because he knew her, for her fame was sufficiently spread about the City, and in all the Academies of Love she was the Lamp that gave light to all Women of her vocation.
The Pawne she had received thus by chance was extreamly welcome, and we fell presently to ripping it by Candle-light, lest it should be knowne when we carried it to the Frippery: We hop'd the money we should get for this purchase, would, besides relieving our present necessities, furnish us with an indifferent stock to maintain us till more came: But next day, as we sate talking with an honest man, that often used to visite us, we heard one knock below; the Maid had no sonner open'd the doore, but in rush'd three sturdy Souldiers, and asked for the Mistresse of the house: She hearing them inquire for her, went down to know their business; one of them presently stepping to her, said, Pray restore me the Cloak I delivered you last night, as I passed by this way. Perretta not willing to part with such a prey, denyed she ever received any Cloak of him, and said she knew him not so well to take any thing from his hands to keep. This made them word it high, and raise such a Tintamarre, as invited me to descend to know the cause of that disorder; but coming into the entry, I presently knew one of the three demanded the Cloak, was my former friend Marsault; startled, and in some confusion at the sight of him, I retreated and hid my self, fearing to be discovered by him. Mean time, the contestation grew [Page 32]so hot, as the chief Officer of that ward, receiving notice of the difference, came thither with his guard, not so much to decide the quarrell, as to get his share of the Booty. Observe but this passage a little, and how just this Man of Justice was. Those that contended with Perretta were Thieves, and he knew them to be no better, yet he stuck not to affirme the Cloak, they had stollen, belonged to them, as if it had been a Prize taken from an Enemy, and condemned Perretta to restore it them: So she (knowing the power of that officer in those parts, and how much it concerned her to gain his good opinion) would not provoke his indignation by appealing from his sentence; but confessing she had, indeed, received a Cloak, she declared (to avoid further dispute) she was willing to render such satisfaction for it, as he should ordain, though of the Cloak it self it was impossible for her to make restitution, having already sold it; and if he, and the three Souldiers (who laid claim to it) would accept of an entertainment at her house, they should be very welcom, and see the spending of all the money it yeilded her.
Small invitation served their turn, they consented to the first motion, and were ready, without further delay, to accept the offer: The Maid was presently sent to all places likely to furnish, in a moment, wherewith to cover a table: Mean time, when I saw Marsault come into the Room where I was, I chang'd my colour in one instant, oftner than a Cameleon could do all his life, and for my further mischief, he, that sate talking with me, went away, so I was inforc'd to entertain those that staid.
Marsault regarded me with attentive eyes, and observ'd my actions and tone with an astonishment not ordinary; For he began to harbour a conceit I was the same Agatha, with whom he had formerly contracted so familiar an acquaintance; but my change of habit made him distrust his judgment At our meal there was no spare of Liquor, & our Guests, drunk into kinder humors, acknowledged themselves fully satisfied of Perretta, &, because our Professions had need of each others support, we tyed our selves by mutuall Oaths, to preserve an inviolable amity, and favourable assistance to eternity. This done, they retir'd to their own habitations, and next day Marsault fail'd not to return with five of his companions, in better equipage than those I had seen the day before: After some discourse of indifferent subjects, taking me a little aside, 'Tis but in vaine (said he) for you to indeavour to conceale your selfe, I know you well enough. To which I presently replyed, It never was my intent to keep any thing secret from his knowledge, and he must excuse me, if the precedent day I made him no adresses, nor discovered him my condition, in regard I thought it not so convenient, because of the other persons then present. Satisfied with this Reply, he began to examine me what I had done with our Masters mony: I suspecting he would urge that question whensoever he found opportunity, had prepared confidence enough to make him believe Monsieur de la Fontaine, after much search, finding it in my Coffer, had taken it againe from me, and afterwards turn'd me out of doores: As for my present condition, it required no admiration, for he might easily guess how I put my self into that gallant garb, and which way I maintained it.
Thus in an instant were we reconcil'd, and the knot of our friendship being made faster now than ever, by the renewing of our mutuall embraces, he took his turn to speak; and giving me a particular account how he came to Paris, and what manner of life he had chosen; He told me, being no longer able to stoop and subject his spirit to the stern commands of severe Masters, he met with a gallant man of his own Country (one of those I saw) who had instructed him to seek (as he did himself) occasions of adventures night and day, and robb all they could: and in further vindication of his profession, he assured me, there were great numbers of Blades in Paris, that lived by no other trade, and had severall marks among themselves, that distinguish'd them from others: as to [Page 33]weare all red Cloaks, low Collars, their Hats truss'd up on one side, and a plume of Feathers on the other, whence (and not improperly) the Vulgar imposed upon that Fraternity the name of Plumers. Their exercise by daytime, was to wander about the streets, and create quarrells upon nothing, purposely to try if they could handsomely twich a Cloak among the confused multitude: In the night they had other different wayes of keeping their hands in practise Some of them had the industry to insinuate themselves into company, inticing those they met to ingage in play with them, and then win their money by new invented Cheats; and they had the Policie to keep so faire a Correspondence with the Ministers of Justice, as they very seldome under-went any disgrace or punishment, unlesse they encountred some powerfull Adversary that had his Purse better lined than theirs. In summe, after he had acquainted me with the chiefest secrets of their consortship, I took the liberty to ask him if none of them apprehended hanging: ‘Scarce any of us (answered he) ever suffer such a thought to harbour in our minds, we fear not to assist oft-times at the execution of some of our own Camarades; for, nothing dazles our eyes, nothing is capable of moving our hearts, so much as the sacred thirst of Gold, nor are our considerations bent to any thing but seeking wherewithal to spend our dayes in delight;’ If any of them chanc'd to be made dance ith' rope, they thought him happy to be so freed of the care and trouble attends the miserable indigent. ‘We are for the most part (continued he) Servants of all sorts of qualities, that will serve no longer; And besides, among us there are divers trades-mens Sons of the City, who not willing to contein themselves within the narrow bounds of their Father's mean conditions, have made themselves Brothers of the Blade, thinking the repute and garb of Sword-men, would conduce much to their Gentility; and after the expence of what they had in possession, and their Parents deniall of further subsistence, used meanes to be admitted into our Society: Nay, I will tell you more (and what your Judgement perchance will hardly give you leave to credit) there are some Noblemen of so high quality, as (for respect to their dignities) I shall forbeare to name them, who delighting in our course of life, disdame not oft-times to keep us company, and use our Nocturnall exercise, onely with this difference, We dis-mantle all sorts of People, Fortune directs into our hands, and they scorn to attaque any but persons of quality, especially such as seem able to resist and bear the marks of Courage in their countenance, purposely to make trial of their skill at Arms and Valour. Yet they do take Cloaks too, and glory in having gotten such a purchase at the point of their swords; for which gallantry, they are called Silk-snatchers, whereas we (who lurk in Corners, and prey upon all Passengers without distinction) have the generall appellation of Cloak-twichers.’
When Marsault had assured me of the truth of this Relation, I admired the Brutality and Basenesse of those Noble-mens soules (unworthy of the Dignity and Rank they held at Court) who patroniz'd that Vice, by cloathing it with the Livery of a remarkable Vertue. The Plumers and Filous, methinks, were not so blameable, in regard their End was onely to preserve themselves from Want; they were not so vain nor foolish to cry up unwarrantable victory, gained over persons assaulted unawares.
In summe, Perretta having gained their acquaintance, became their Receiver, and concealed the Goods they stole, retaining a part to her selfe, which served to maintaine us. The Commissary of the quarter connived at this correspondence, though the Neigbours importuned him without cease to unneast us, for, the share we allowed him of our profits, was not so inconsiderable, but it contributed much to the warming of h [...]s Kitchen.
During this intelligence, we played a number of admirable Cheats, still [Page 34]squeezing one or others purse (maugre all resistance) to pay the excessive expence of our continuall disorders: I shall onely trouble you with the relation of one, which (I dare say) you will not grudge the time to hear. The designe had its source and conduct from the Invention of Marsault, whose Practise had rendred him one of the subtilest and most exquisite Rogues, among the Bandes of Rougets and Grisens, so the Companies of his Profession, for distinction, styled themselves. He continued making use of me as oft as desire invited him, and was not Jealous though others injoyed the same Priviledge, so it brought him in Profit, and none the Promoter of their Pleasures but himselfe. From all parts of Paris he procured me Customers, and none of the meanest sort, he scorn'd to fasten his fancy upon common Preyes; His ayme was alwayes at the fairest Marks, and to bring me into the most beneficiall Practice; as you shall see by the sequele of this Narration.
Chance conducting Marsault to take a lodging in the suburbs of St. Germain, where a young English Gentleman had entred himselfe in Pension; after some handsome insinuations as Prologues to their acquaintance, the stranger took occasion to say, he saw no such beautifull Women in France as in his Country. Marsault, desiring no better than to finde his inclinations that way bent, cunningly replyed, They hide themselves at Paris in their owne houses, like Treasures of high value, that are not to be exposed to every vulgar view. This answer giving the young Gentleman confidence enough to ask if he knew any of those eminent Beauties: Ile shew you the handsomest my eyes ever yet beheld (continued Marsault) but she's maintained by one of the greatest Noble-men of the Court. This said, he invited him to take a walk, telling him by the way, a thousand Mervails of my Perfections, and at last bringing him through our street, he shewed him where I dwelt. The Plot was so contriv'd, that he was forced to make at least ten or twelve severall journeys before he could see me at the window, (for I looked not often out) and when I did appeare, I chose the advantage of the Evening; so that the poor English man, already pre-possessed with an opinion of transcendent Beauties, and not able, at that distance, to discover by twy-light, the defects of my face (if it then had any) believed me the perfectest of all Nature's handy-works. Marsault perceiving the Fish begin to bite, as they returned home, This Lady and I (said he) are not so unacquainted, but that she acknowledges me her kinsman, where ever I chance to see her. This presently bred a curiosity in the Stranger, to ask him if he went not sometimes to visit me, and if he might not have the favour to accompany him to my lodging How Sir ( replyed Marsault) I can scarce obtain that Priviledge for my selfe; for the Noble-man, whose Mistresse she is, though he loves her as his soule, is so exceeding jealous, as the least action she does, is observed by the Spies he has over her, which hinder her from conversing with any bodie, especially in private: Besides, if you harbour any hopes of purchasing a place in her affections, I believe you'l not finde it so sensible as you imagine, though your merit (I must confesse) is infinite; for, she has already lodged her heart too well, so sodainely to remove it.
This difficulty added fewell to the fire, and rendered my young Gallant more importunate; No day passed but he went the Round about my house, as if he came to view the Walls, and take it by assault. At last, after some instructions how to play my game, as my new Amorist walked gazing towards my window. I still would finde some occasion to be peeping out, and answer his looks with such languishing glances, as if I had been ready to resign my Life to Love. One day Marsault staid on purpose to discourse with me at the door, knowing his Camarade was not farre off, and as he passed, Pray who is that Stanger? (said I aloud) He is a very compleat Gentleman.
This word (which he o're-heard conveyed its pleasing poyson through his Eares into his Heart; yet his passion was nothing in comparison of those [Page 35]flames he felt torment his breast, when Marsault being returned to his lodging) told him I inquired more particularly of him after he was gone by, that I expressed such contentment in seeing him, as I alwayes took occasion to stand at Window about the houre I had observ'd him walk that way. ‘This is a faire beginning for your love (continued he) persist at all adventures, I'me confident I can contribute something to the advancement of your Interests.’ My English man, drunk with contentment, knew no other way to expresse his joy and thankfulnesse at present, but by often iterating his embraces and caresses to Marsault; who, to begin to feather his Nest, desired his Host to give out, he owed him fifty Crowns for Diet and Lodging: This fellow (the Host) kept a Cabaret, and went a share with the Filous, when they inticed their Gulls in there to drink, and be cheated of their money at play, or forced to part with it upon harder terms; so there needed no great intreaty to make him grant such a request to one of his own Society. All thus agreed, as Marsault was conversing with the English-man, the Host, with a feigned severity, came and told him, he had present occasion for the fifty crowns he owed him, and he must, and should pay him: Marsault replied, he had money enough to discharge ten times such a debt, but could not command it at present; with this the Host fell a vapouring and swearing, he would be fool'd no longer, he should pay him his money, or he would fetch those should lay him fast enough. When he was gone out of the Room, Marsault pretending to be afraid he should bring Serjeants to affront him, desired the English-man to assist him in that extremity, and without much difficulty, obtain'd the full summe he demanded, promising in very short time to return it, and threatning to be revenged of his Landlord for reducing him to such an exigence: But, in consideration of the grand favour he acknowledged from his courtesie (after contenting that uncivill fellow's greedinesse) he said he would make a step to my house to sound me once again, if my heart might not be rendred sensible of any other flames besides his, whom he knew I loved already.
At his return, he made the poor Foole believe, he had so prepared the way for him to my minde, as he should finde me intirely disposed to contract a perfect Amity with him, assuring him I desired nothing more than the injoyment of his conversation. Then he told him, he would do himself much right, and advance the atchievement of his desires, if he sent me some pretty Present, as a Diamond bodkin to put in my haire, which he had observed I wanted; for (said he) Women in this country are of a craving disposition, and inclinable to love those best that spend most, & charm them with the greatest gifts. This passionate Stranger went presently to buy what Marsault bad him, and intrusted it in his hands to bring me, with promise he should see me wear it, when he found convenience to conduct him into my presence. Mean time, at night, my Gallant thinking Musick might help to mollifie my heart, would needs entertain me with a Se [...]enade, and having learn'd to scratch three or four sorry tunes upon the Lute, he plac'd himself under my window, and to a strange pitifull Aire croak d out this ridiculous Ditty, in such an accent, as I never had more adoe to refraine laughing.
I never had better sport than at the simple eagernesse of this fond forrainer, and receiving notice next day what time he was to visite me, I waited his coming at the door, where he accosted me with such over-action in his complements, as it was no easie task for me to keep my countenance. He understood not French [Page 36]very well, not I his Fustian Language; so our discourse was a perpetuall Nonsense: When he made me tenders of his affection, I thought he had reproached me the rich Present he had sent me, Yet I was not ready to return it him: When I applauded his Merits, he answered me, if Paris had afforded a fairer Diamond than that he sent me, it should have been at my service.
At length Marsault taking upon him the office of Trucheman, saved us both a labour, and made us better understand each others meaning, telling me in two words, That gallant Gentleman I saw, was ready to die with Love for me: And after I had replyed, he told the Stranger, Above all vices in the world I abhorred the sin of Ingratitude, and should be ready to answer his affection, since it was accompanied with such incomparable ornaments of Nature, and inward Perfections, as had rendered my Soul his Captive.
Just at the close of this Discourse, Perretta coming out of her Chamber, said in an angry tone, as if she had been offended at my stay, Come hither, who doe you speak with there below? I am talking with my Cousin (answerd I:) then in a dejected manner, that betrayed some fear, I presently bade adieu to my reall Servant, and feined Kinsman, who (after their departure) failed not to tell this Amorist, she whom he heard begin to chide, was an old Woman the Nobleman had hired on purpose to guard me, and if he pretended ever to make a Conquest of so precious a Treasure as my Beauty, he must indeavour to charm that sleepless Dragon, which he thought not impossible, if he blinded her with some Crowns of Gold. The Bands of his Affection were so firmly tyed, that he easily consented to loosen those of his purse: So the next day returning with Marsault, and finding Perretta at the door, she had no sooner declared by way of discourse, that she was much straitned for want of money, and knew not on a sodaine where to borrow any, but he offered to bring her presently as much as her occasions did require; and in effect, returning instantly to his lodging, fetch'h her an hundred Livres, which was about the summe she told Marsault she wanted. After he had counted it to her in her Chamber, he whisper'd Marsault in the ear, and bade him remember his businesse; and he having discoursed a while in private with Perretta, returned him this pleasing answer, that overcome by his courtesie, she was resolved to faile in the fidelity she had promised to a great Noble-man to comply with his desires, and give him the opportunity of enjoying me, if his passion could dispense but with so many houres delay as the Sun required to compleat his next dayes course.
The time for this amorous appointment being expired, my Lover came to our house, attired (I think I might say tired) with a suit covered all over with very rich Gold lace: For, though the King had forbid his subjects those superfluities, he, who was a stranger took pleasure in such Gayes, on purpose to be the more noted by wearing Cloathes out of the Common Mode. All his body was most curiously spunged and bath'd in perfumed waters; for, imagining he was to lye with the Mistresse of a Grandee, accustomed to the sumptuous treats of high persons, he thought he must not accost her in any meaner way, lest he should be despised. When we were together in the Bed, I must confesse I did not observe the Precept Perretta and Marsault gave me, which was not to impart the sift and last favour of Love, nor suffer my Amorist to exceed the Priviledge of these foure Preparatives, Seeing, Speaking, Kissing and Feeling: For (why should I dissemble?) I consider'd not so much the profit they assur'd me I should reap, by counterfeiting a nice unwillingness, as the pleasure I then felt, tickling and provoking my appetite to the free injoyment of those Delights the heat of Love communicates in such encounters. Beside, the curiosity I had to try if there were more contentment with a Forreiner than a Frenchman; this Gentleman was so fair, so sweet, and had so delicate a skin, that (in faith) I must have been less humane than a Tygress, to refuse making his Needle touch the Pole its point stood towards, with so much vigorous sympathie.
[Page 37]Our Commissary, who had quickly notice of this new Purchase, came to have a Gleaning of our Harvest, while we were in the closest embraces you can imagine; Perretta op'd him gently the doore, with admonition to play his part discreetly. At his arrivall I rose, hastily conveying my selfe in my smock, betwixt the bed and wall, and my Lover distracted at this surprise, hearing him say, To Prison with her, ran presently to his sword, but was hindred from doing any execution by a Serjeant and his Assistant, who furiously seized his Arme, threatning to provide him a lodging at the Kings charge. After a multitude of fruitless supplications he considered his best way was to make use of that divine Metall the whole world is inchanted with, and lightening his pockets of some Crowns of Gold, he stopped the mouths of those greedy Curres so well, as they soon gave over barking, and left us in full liberty to renew our sports in Bed.
This was the first Alarm, but not the last nor the most dangerous; for as these Rascalls spirits were revived, and the fear dispersed (which had almost congealed their Bloud, and rendered them as stupid, as if they had been stunn'd with the sodain stroke of Death) being ready to make themselves merry with his money, one knocked like a Person of Authority at the doore; which presently unbolted, up comes one of Marsault's Companions, clad like a Lord indeed, into my Chamber, with three others at his heeles, who by their respects and distance, seemed to be his Servants: I, who was acquainted with their Mummerie, made my Bed-felow believe this was the Noble-man maintained me, and desired him to hide himself behind the Hangings. This vapouring Cloak-twicher, who personated the Grandee to the life, proudly asked Perretta where I was: She's already in bed (answered she) for we expected not your coming this night; besides, she has a paine in her head that indisposes her very much Came not my little Page hither this Evening, to tell you I would not fail to visi [...]t her? replied the Brave, We see him not, said Perretta. What a young Rogue's this (continued he) I shall teach him to doe what I command, He's trifling away his time at play somewhere among his companions: I thought to have bin here sooner, but after waiting on the K. at supper, I was constrained by his Majestie's particular command, to retire into the private closet with him, to receive the honour he was pleased to doe me, by the communication of some of his most secret intentions: I came but immediately from thence, and because I would not go home to my own house, I have commanded my servants to bring my supper hither. This said, one of his Attendants covered the table, while the rest brought in severall dishes of meat.
My Lord was no sooner set, but fell to work with his Chops, and after drinking a glass of wine, and wiping his Mustachoes with a notable affected gravity, Agatha my pretty Mistress (said he to me aloud are you asleep? Shall we have no Love-toys to night? At these words, as if I had awaked out of a sound sleep, drawing the curtain a little aside (I answered, rubbing my eyes) I would do what he pleased. You must rise then for a while, and eat a bit ( said Perretta to me) I am sure you have not supp'd, and I believe your disease consists onely in opinion: It is no matter whether the Disease, indisposed me a while since, were imaginary or not (replyed I) since now I feel my self absolutely cured: So putting on an under Petticoat, and my Mantle about my shoulders, I stept out at the farther side of the Bed, and came round about to pay my obeysance to this brave Lord. After saluting me, You had somebody (said he) behinde the Bed to help dresse you, or I am mistaken, yet I see no body come forth after you. Be pleased to pardon me (answered I) there's no creature living; but I am sure I heard a coughing not like yours, & really (continu'd he, rising from the table) I must know who it is: Steward bring the candle here. This said, he threw all the curtains open, and spied the English Gentleman shivering behind in a corner. Then, with a countenance inflam'd with a counterfeited fury, he vented his rage on me in these termes, How now, you impudent Whore, Do you abuse me thus? You could feign Chastity and Reservation [Page 38]to intrap me, and yet make a beggarly Rascall here come lye with you, which is a favour I could not obtaine of your Jadeship, till you saw my Passion was growne to the height of extremity. What an affront is this to a person of Honour? Ha! You'le repent it at leisure: To morrow Ile send to fetch away all the Goods I had given you, and you will finde it no easie matter to meet with one will maintaine you at that height I did. While he walked vapouring in this manner to himself, Perretta and I slunk both out of the room, as if the fear of his fury had bidden us seek our own security by flight.
Then addressing his speech to the poor stranger, And you M. Villain (said he) I shall teach you what 'tis to corrupt Women in this nature, lay hold on him Steward, and secure him here till to morrow morning, and then Ile make him stretch for his unworthinesse. Mi bi Shentelman (replied the frighted Forreiner in his broken language) Mi com from de antique Kins ofe Cotes, de creat fadergrand of tis persone of mi hat putted his life in danger mor as feif hunder tim for te servis of his Prins; and mi will do reson to dee. What impudence is this? (answered my upstart Lord in great indignation) thou challengest me, Rascall, dost thou deserve to be wounded by my weapons? Goe, if thou wert not destined to die upon a Gibbet, I would make thee fight with the upper Scullion of my Kitchen. My distressed Amorist in the mean time, looked all about to see where his clothes were laid, believing if the Lord saw him in that sumptuous Apparell, he would judge more favourably of his quality, and set a higher value upon the jewel of his honour by the costlinesse of the Case. But before he had searched round the chamber, the swaggering Plumer was gone, leaving the naked Lover locked in with him that represented the Lords Steward: there was no likelihood he should finde what he sought, for when Perretta and I seemed to run away frighted out of his chamber, we cleared the room of all lay near our hands, and carried them into the Garret, where we took Sanctuary.
The Plumelesse Pigeon, fancying his life was in extreame danger, addressed multitudes of supplications to him that was intrusted as his guard to let him go: But the sterne Steward answer'd, if he should commit that fault, he ne're must dare appeare in his Lords presence more, and so all the hopes he had of recompence for his former services would be lost. This made the Prisoner seek his cloathes with more diligence than before, to take some mony out of his Breeches and offer him: But finding none of his vestments, he stripped a Bracelet of curious round Pearles from his Wrist, and said he would give him that in acknowledgement of his favour, if he would restore him his liberty: Sir (answered the false Steward, accepting his Present) It is not the value of your Gift can move my heart to decline from my sworn obedience, but the high merits I consider in your person, oblige me to the resolution of complying with your desires; for Ile assure you, what I have received from your hand, will not countervaile the Tithe of that I might expect from my Lords bounty, if I betrayed him not, as I shall by releasing you; However Ile venture his displeasure, and set you cleare of this Howe, but to morrow you must not faile to leave this City, and returne with all possible speed into your own Country, for if you linger any time in France, the authority of the person you have offended is so great in every Province, that should you have the misfortune to be apprehended, you will find nothing capable to expiate your crime but death.
So the poor English-man contenting himself with a paire of pitifull ratter'd breeches (that dragged in the dirt as he went) glad he was got into the open streets, ran with as much hast to his lodging, as if all the Hangmans Hellhounds had been at his heeles. Next morning Fear representing the Danger he might incurre by staying any longer in Paris, made him remove his Quarters, and begin his march for England; where being arrived, I am confident he made his braggs how he had injoyed one of the World's rarest Beauties, Mistresse to a Principall Noble man of France: Me thinks I heare with what Emphasis [Page 39]he related the adventures of his amorous stealths, esteeming his money well employed, and desiring so remarkable a History should be eternized by the Pen of some famous Author in a new Romance.
All those, who had assisted in the management of this Cheat, had their due shares of the Cake, but I alone had the Beane; for my gain was greater than any of the rest. By such tricks as this we got an indifferent honest livelihood, neither was the Justice troubled with any complaints of us; for we carried on our designes with too much secrecy, to be discovered: And so, I think, our Vices were Vertues, in regard they were kept concealed.
Fortune weary of shewing me her Fore-parts, while I expos'd my own to any Comer, turn'd me at last her Back side. The first crosse-blow I felt from her (formerly indulgent) hand, was when Monsieur de la Fontaine (whom I have already mentioned) met Marsault, and knowing him by his Gate or Garb, watched him till he entred our house, where, by chance, his eye discovered me at the window. Mervailing to see me transformed into the habit of a Damoiselle, he inquired of some he knew in our street, how I lived, yet learned no more of my deportments, than he before conjectur'd: But my neighbours understanding by his relation, I was no better than a Chamber-maid, cryed me down more than uncurrent Money, insomuch I could never set foot into the streets, without receiving some affront. After this, la Fontaine meeting Marsault another time at better advantage, accosted him, and charging him for having robb'd his house, raised a terrible hurly-burly in the streets, yet could not carry him to prison; for some of his Associates arriving amidst these Broils, made their way through the gazing multitude, and rescued him out of the Serjeants hands, recompencing their valour at their retreat, with the purchase of two faire Cloaks they twitched from a couple of gaping fooles, that interessed themselves in what concerned them not.
Marsault scap'd narrowly that bout, but fifteen daies after his luck was not so good; for having robb'd a principall Citizens house, the Watch apprehending him, incaged him so close, there was no possibility of flight: so his Processe being ended in two daies, he was sent to the place of Execution, where his neck felt the weight of all the rest of his body.
This infamy reflecting upon Perretta and me, because he was every day in our company, made us fear some disaster or calamity would befall us, for we began already to feele our support but slender: One day the Commissary coming to our house, with thoughts to receive the Tribute he used to levie, found what he expected not: For, three Gentlemen, that had past the condition of calme Novices, being at that time in my company, gave him so rude an entertainment, that he was forced to make but one step from the top of the staires to the bottome. This bred a jealousie in his thoughts, Perretta had betrayed him, therefore he endeavoured to turn us presently out of that quarter: But before we dislodged, we resolved to use some trick to be revenged of his malice: His name was Lucrin, and his disposition was not unanswerable, being sordidly griping, and of a base dull temper; But there was another of the same faculty, called Morizet, who lived in a street somewhat more remote; a joviall merry soule, and no enemy to persons of our profession: This Commissary using to visite us sometimes, we acquainted Lucrin with his coming, who took it as a great affront to him, and an encroaching upon his Prerogative, assuring us he would suffer no other Officer to meddle in his jurisdiction: At length, to make our accusation good against Morizet (who we affirmed had spoken much to the prejudice and disparagement of the other) one night we sent for Morizet, as if we had some earnest businesse to impart to him, having first hid Lucrin in a little closet next my chamber: at his arrivall he found four Gentlemen in my company, whom he taking upon him to examine what they came to [Page 40]doe with me, they answered, they would give him no account, and I (to second them) said I was not obliged to declare my actions to him; for, Lucrin had told me he had no power to act as Commissary in our Quarter. Hereupon he replyed, Lucrin lyed like a Sot, and so continued railing against Lucrin, in such vilifying termes, as made him (like an enraged Lyon) fly out of his Den upon him, and (for want of other weapons) batter his face with his fists. Morizet to defend himselfe, and not seeme ingratefull, return'd him as many blowes with a soure cudgell he light upon by chance; and the hotter the combat grew, the better were we pleased. At last comming to cloze, they scratch'd, bit, and tumbled together upon the ground, where they so pummeld each other, that their eyes look'd like eggs potch'd in black butter, and the rest of their faces, red, blew, and yellow, like pieces of China Taffetas. There wanted a third Commissary to part these two, who, instead of making others keep the Peace, were ready to teare out one anothers throat. But the Gentlemen who accompanyed us, at length thought good to performe that office, one of them (as they went to separate em) saying with an imperious tone, ‘How now, Rascalls, have you the impudence to quarrell in my presence, What, will you raise a scandall upon such an honest house as this is? If your impertinence provoke my fury any farther, I shall soon make Mince-meat of you both: so let's have peace presently, embrace each other, I bid you, and that quickly, nay let me see you kiss too, and shake hands.’
Upon this command the Commissaries left fighting, both much ashamed for what they had done, yet the animosity their hearts abounded with would not permit them to be so easily agreed: However to confirme their seeming Amity, the Gentleman commanded his Lacquay to get something for a Collation, and some wine to make them drink together.
We thought it not convenient to send for any thing abroad, but made them be contented with what we had in the house; so with some eggs that remained of our Saturday night supper, and a few slices of bacon, a Froise was presently made, and served in with great pomp and magnificence. Come (said the Gentleman to the two Commissaries) you must eat with me, or Ile eat you. That said, he put his hand to the dish first, and Morizet, without farther invitation, fell to exercise his teeth, but Lucrin out of shame, or a sullen reservation, slighted the courtesie, insomuch as the Gentleman seeming displeased, forced open his mouth, and holding him by the chin with one hand, and taking a piece of the Froise with the other, flung it in as a Mason does Mortar off his Trowel, into a hole that wants stopping: his Eyes, Beard and Doublet, had each their share of the spattering; so seeing there was no remedy, he reformed his crosse-grain'd humour, and became more sociable. After this the Lacquay was commanded to give Morizet a glasse of Wine, and he bidden to drink a Health to Lucrin: So without farther ceremony, taking the Glasse, Here Mr. Commissary, (said he) Ile drink to you, to let you see I harbour no malice in my heart: The Wiseman sayes, We must forget injuries. The next Plot was to make Lucrin drink to Morizet, which he did with such shew of reluctancie, as his hand shaking (through feare or disdaine) above halfe the Wine was spilt before the Glasse reach'd his mouth: However seeing 'twas in vain to withstand their wills, I will drink to you because I must (said he with a trembling voice.) And after that he would neither eate nor drink more in their company, neither was he much intreated; Morizet did that office for him, and stirr'd not till our Bottle was suck'd out.
After this refection, they desired to repaire home, but seeing they had torn their Ruffs to pieces in the conflict, loth to goe through the streets in that equipage, they intreated the Gentlemen to give their Lacquayes leave to goe and desire their wives to send them other Linne: The Gallants answered, they could not spare their Servants to goe so farre, but there were Semsters nearer could [Page 41]furnish them, if they would send for one, they were willing to doe them that courtesie. So one of our neighbours was fetch'd presently, who having the watch-word brought none but broad Bands with deep laces that were not for their Wear, besides making her price, was foure times more than they were worth; the pittifull fellowes (unwilling to part with so much money) were forc'd to sneak home without, and hide their noses with their long Cloaks for feare of being knowne; onely Morizet's ingenuity furnish'd him with the invention to put his handkerchief about his Neck, which serv'd instead of a falling band.
Next day the Gentlemen went in a Coach to their houses (well attended with stout lacquayes) and forc'd them to beare them company to our house, where taking Perretta and me (as if they intended to carry us somewhere to be merry, and make a perfect reconcilement) they brought us all together to the playhouse, and the Comedians (already instructed by those Gallants of all the Passages betwixt the two Commissaries) made their Scuffle the subject of all their Drollerie, to the grand satisfaction of all the Spectators, except the two Combatants; who sensible of that publique affront, complotted how to be reveng'd, and though they left us without any shew of distaste, they fomented a resolution to contrive our ruine, laying their private enmities aside to unite their powers against us, as occasion should invite them to doe us mischief▪ But we, fearing the storme should break unawares upon us, to shelter our selves from theirs as well as others malicious practises, forthwith forsook that quarter, where I confesse we had made an indifferent good harvest.
We retired into the Suburbs to a paultrie little house afarre off, where we remembred with regret the high cheere we used to have in our former dwelling, for there it was very meane, having but a slender stock of money left after our too extravagant expence. This miserable life (I believe) was a principall cause of a great indisposition besieg'd Perretta, for Melancholly and discontent to see her self fallen from a plentifull condition to calamity, gaining the ascendance over her Spirit, the good woman felt her self drawing neerer dissolution, and therefore, as most People use in like extremity, she would impart some documents before her death. Considering me as her daughter, I received from her dying mouth very apparent testimonies of a Cordiall affection; of all her secrets and Maximes she profess'd she concealed not any from my knowledge, and besides gave me divers wholesome Counsells, which I have since made good use of. In summe no scruple nor superstition harbour'd in her heart: She lived so roundly, that I imagine (if what is reported of the other World be true) the rest of humane Soules now play at Bowles with her's. She knew no more what belonged to remorse or Cases of conscience than those of Topinambou; for (she said) if she ever had heard any discourse thereof in her youth, she had lived long enough to forget it, as a thing that serv'd for nothing but to disturb the Mind's repose. She had often told me before the riches of this World are so common, that they ought not to appertaine more peculiarly to one than another, and that it argued ingenuity and wisdome in any one to take a share (though out of others hands) if fortune favour'd the designe with a convenient opportunity. For (said she) I came naked into this World, and naked I will return, If I have got any of others goods, I shall not carry them with me, let them goe seek where they are and take them, it nere shall trouble me. What! If I should be punisht after my death for committing that which they call Fellony or Theft, might not I with reason answer my accusers, that 'twere injustice to bring me into the World to live, and not permit me to take those things requisite to maintaine a Life?
After severall such discourses her soule took leave of her Carcase, which I buryed without any Pompe, as she injoyned me, for she know there was nothing more unnecessary.
[Page 42]Soone after her decease I procur'd some new acquaintance, that furnish'd me with a little Belly-timber; But the losse of my good Mother was so sensible, besides the ill hap I had to incounter now and then some persons, too well acquainted with my former carriages, that I resolv'd to leave Paris, and to remove my station to the City of Roan. My Beauty was yet powerfull enough to attract me many Visitants, but making no respect or distinction of Persons, in effect being a stable for all Horses, among others I met with a running Nagg, by whose virulency I was so paid, that in short time I found my body infected with a foul disease: Cursed be those brought it into France; it disturbs the pleasures of well disposed people, and it is favourable to none but Chirurgions, who indeed owe Candles to one of our Kings, for leading his Souldiers to Naples to get it there, and bring the seeds of it hither. The onely happinesse in my misfortune was, that an honest and gratefull Chirurgion, to whom I had done some courtesie before, physick'd me for much lesse than any other of his profession would have taken. I will not entertain you any longer with these Ordures, though I know you are none of those squeamish people; to whom a foul relation savours as ill as the thing it self.
Let it suffice to tell you, I took a voyage (as they say in Bavaria) to see the Emperour inthron'd, and at my return, I found my face so changed, I was inforced to make my recourse to Art; Painting, Waters and Perfumes, were the daily remedies I used to repaire the ruines my Body and Face sustained. Besides, I began to consult my Looking-glasse for new attractions, & practised a certain affected manner of speech, that infinitely inchanted those I had a desire to intrap. At last, a man very rich, and without office, became so vanquished by my charms, that he took me into his own house, to injoy me there with more liberty: I grant he might have found a handsomer Mistress than I, and so he confessed himself; but there was something in my humour sympathised so with his disposition, that he preferred me before all others of my sex. The cause of our Separation proceeded from a little brangling betwixt us, because I made more havock of his goods, and spent his money more lavishly than he was willing to permit.
The practice of my first profession, being yet fresh in my memory, that was my present refuge; I applyed my selfe eagerly to it a long time, refusing no body that brought what would help to make the Pot boyle. While I was in the height of my trading, a certain Meacock (that was soon after to be married) desirous to know before-hand in what parts to attaque his enemies in Cupids combats, where he never yet had shewn his valour, was addressed to me (by a Kinsman of his) to receive instructions. Having been at my Lodging one Sunday after dinner, and informed I was gone to the Sermon, thither came he to finde me out; At his arrivall, the Preacher falling upon the relation of the first part of Mary Magdalen's life, inveighed bitterly against Courtezans, and represented so lively the pains prepared for them in the other World, that my Lover said to himself, he might well enough go back again, or seek another Mistress to do him that courtesie, imagining I should be touch'd with too much remorse by the end of the Sermon, to continue that life any longer: But at the Sermons end, he finding opportunity to accost me, after he had discover'd me his thought of my conversion, I return'd him this answer (which, perchance, in your judgements, will savour of much impiety; However it is no matter, I come not hither to make you believe I repent of my past iniquities) Insooth (Friend) my soule must be very weakly principled, to be startled at the stories this prating Monk has told us; Don't I know well enough every one must follow his owne trade? He makes it his profession to amuse the simple people with his Prattle, disswading them from haunting debosh'd and lewd companies, where they idly consume their time, persons and purses, or become ingaged in some desperate and unnecessary quarrell: And I exercise my part to quench the Concupiscense [Page 43]of men by Charity. Thus was my Novice paid, and being a good silly soule, according to the stamp of that old ignorant Age, when people wip'd their Noses on their sleeves, he wonder'd at my libertine humour, which he took to be very wicked and inconsistent with his goodly Religion. To make my story short, we went together from Church to my Chamber, where I read him a Love-Lecture, and taught him what he desired to learn; but my instructions made so deep an impression, as upon the Verge of the Axletree of his Microcosme, he was forced to bear a Cancer as well as the Zodiack; and he was so thorougly pepper'd, that before he had accompanied his tender Bride eight nights, she felt the malignity of its influence dispesred through her whole body. Was he not a pretty Proficient, to gain so much in so short an Apprentiship?
At length, Time and hard Labour so furrowed my fore-head, and impair'd the Complexion of my Countenance, as Ceruse and Vermillion were not capable to re-imbellish my face. By little and little the number of my Lovers decreased, and none came to knock at my doore but some rascally Roisters, lesse furnished with Money than Minde to do any mischief to satisfie their desires: This constrained me to screw my self into the acquaintance of innocent Virgins, and get into the Order of those Matrons that procure Commodities for young Customers. And that I might more handsomly perform this Office, I reform'd my habit into a holy Sisters, and there was no indulgence to be gain'd, or other publique Devotion, thorough all the City, but I went daggling among the throng: I knew the high-spirited Sparks by their looks, and when I had crept into their acquaintance, I conducted them into places where they received the contentment they desired; If any Gentleman was intangled in Love's Labyrinth, I imployed all my Art and Industry to do him service, and cunningly conveyed his Letters to his Mistress's hands.
Now Francion prepare your attention, and observe what I shall tell you concerning Lauretta, for I shall presently enter into the relation of her story.
Being in the Countey with a certain Gossip of mine, one evening a fancy took me to walk out alone, and passing through a private place, remote from any houses, I descry'd a man carrying something under his Cloak, and as he came within a matter of twenty paces of me, the noise of a Child crying, made me send my eyes about, to discover where it might be; but the nearer we approach'd, the more ascertain'd I was that he must have it under his arm: Whither carry you that Child? (said I to him) Whose is it? At these words, stopping his March, he told me, he was carrying it to a Village not farre thence, where he believed he should get a good Nurse for it. I conjured him so much, that at length he confessed it was a secret sinne of a young Gentleman in that Countrey, who had been something too familiar with one of his Mothers Maids, but he would not acquaint me with his Name. Though Night had already put her Mask over the face of Heaven, my curiosity invited me to take the little creature into my arms, to see if it were pretty; mean time he that deliver'd me it shew'd me his heeles, saying, he went to speak with one of his Camarades; The Pledge he left in my hands, little pleasing me, I laid it gently upon the grass, and ran after him, but to small purpose; for, he was so light footed, that in short time I lost sight of him; besides, I heard a great Dog barking near the child, as I conjectur'd, which made me hast back, fearing it. might receive some mischief. Compassion mov'd me to take it up, and carry it to the house I so journ'd in, where, by the help of candle-light, I found it was a Girle of a most exquisite feature and pure complexion, as commonly all the of privae Amoretta's are, because in those stollen pleasures the Parents act with more vigour and affection, and the Mothers are generally befriended by Nature with more than ordinary beauties to heighten the desires of their Amorists.
[Page 44]I knew at Rouen, a Nurse that had such superfluity of Milk, as she was easily perswaded to suckle another Child beside her owne, provided I would make good a small summe of mony I promised her. After the Child was wean'd I took her home and call'd her alwayes Lauretta, as he that left her with me told me she had been baptized. She cost me little the keeping, for all the Ladies of pleasure in the City, were so taken with those pretty Bloomings of Beauty in her Face, that they would have her, by turnes, whole Moneths together in their houses; and indeed, her company was not altogether uselesse; for, going along the streets with them, she made them be often taken not for what they were, but for honest Women that had been married.
Her yeares advancing her to the use of Reason, there was a pretty Emulation among them, who should render her Mistresse of most Gentilesses, and teach her the most witty and subtile Discourses, to serve her upon all occasions: By the'e Instructions, and her owne Observation, she learned a number of rare pieces of Craft to intrap and amuse Lovers. When she was come to a growth that might admit a Copulative, I took her againe to my owne tutorage, fearing she might let that full-blown Flower of her Virginity be cropp'd, without receiving any considerable valuation for so precious a Jewell. I did not account Rouen a place worthy enough of her, whom the benigne Heavens had imbelished with all the attractive faculties and perfections desirable in our sex: So I resolved to remove the Scene to Paris, where I presumed I should quickly gain enough to countervail my charge and trouble in breeding her. I used no more the Gentlewomans attire, those vanities I had long since laid aside; neither did I suffer her to go in the Garb of a Damoiselle, but weare a neat white Dressing, with a handsome Flanders Lace, which made her look so pretty, Ile assure you I am not able to expresse it. As she followed me along the streets, we could hear some say she had a face like an Angel, others commend the colour and curling of her curious Haire, or fall into admiration of her delicate Skin, with the gracefull rising of her lovely Brests, which she wearing half discovered, seemed like a Paire of pretty Promontories or Land-marks to direct Loves Champions safe into the streights. When any one sent an earnest looke after her, my watchfull eye presently met with his, and if he followed us home I would make her stand at the doore, that as he pass'd he might have a fuller view, and become more intangled in the fetters of her Beauty.
My Judgement perswaded me it was then time to advance her to the highest Classe, and imbue her with the most learned lessons of our Science. Therefore I governed her no longer as a Child, but began to teach her what was necessary to make her Barque arrive at a happy Port in the Sea of this World.
After these instructions, she was no Niggard of her amorous glances, to those seemed taken with her, and (believe me) she could arm her eyes with such a commanding sweetness, as every Beam they shot, recompenced the loss of her Look with the conquest of a Heart. Observe a little the Art I made her use, to the end every one might esteem me one of those they call Women of Honour. If at any time I turned towards her, she presently bent her looks downwards, as if she durst not then speak to men with her Eyes, as she took the liberty to doe, when my Back was towards her.
Among the young Wooers she had charmed one named Valderan, was much gallanter than the rest, and (as I conceived) richer. Dwelling within few doors of our house, he soon met with opportunity to accost us, and ask'd me leave to give us now and then a visit, which I granted, with thanks for the honour, I said, we should receive in his company: But I injoy'd [Page 45] Lauretta to personate the scornefull Lady, and answer his Caresses with an invincible Rigour, untill he fill'd her hands with Crownes of Gold, which I told her were the Starres that give the quality of Gods upon Earth, to those that have the disposall of them; as the Planets which are in the Heavens doe give the same honour to the Intelligences that govern them. Nay, I am a learned Woman (Gentlemen) though you believe it not: Well, but I shall let you see that I have read sometimes in good Books, where I have learn'd to say Phoebus.
My Remonstrances were not neglected by Lauretta, she was so discreet and punctuall in observing them, that every time Valderan came to Visit her, she would make her complaints to him alone, that her Aunt (meaning me) was the hardest and most covetous woman in the world: My Father hath sent me money severall times, to make me fine new Clothes (would the cunning Baggage say but she will buy me nothing; nay, I believe in stead of furnishing me, she has employed it to supply her own particular necessities, though (God knowes) she is well enough paid beside for my Pension. After she had prepared Valderan's credulity by this lie, she minced it no longer but boldly asked him money to buy her a new Coat or Gown, and when he told her he could hardly satisfie her demands, she answered, Ha! how do you think to make me sensible of the affection you professe, if you will not undergoe some difficulty to expresse it?
By this, and other like subtilties, she skrewed at length a small summe of Money out of her penurious Pretendant, for which he thought her obliged to give him the intire Possession of her Heart, but he was forced to relinquish that opinion, when he saw she slighted him more than formerly.
Mean time, a gallant spruce Exchecquer-man, named Chastel, insinuated himself into our acquaintance, by means of a servant Maid we kept, who, according to my instructions, had so handsomly represented him our necessities, that to procure our good esteem, and indevour to obtain a remedy for the affection be bare Lauretta, he sent us severall considerable Presents, which powerfully pleaded his interests, and infinitely captived our thoughts. He was a perfect Drolle, given to his pleasures enough, but never could be made guilty of entertaining those fond transports of Love, some Fondlings are distempered with; He shunn'd those Passions that might raise mutinies in his Minde, and could not indure one thing should be refused him twice; understanding his disposition, I failed not to shew him the best countenance I could, and my Niece likewise paid his respects with a demeanour no way disobliging.
One Evening, as he was newly gone out of our house, we came home, and met Valderan at the door, who came to spend some idle hours with us; Lauretta, after her custome, presently ran to the Looking-glasse, to see if her Dressing were not crumpled, or any of her Curls disordered: Our maid seeing her very busie in gazing on her self, burst into such a sudden laughter as provok'd her to ask the reason. She, who was more wanton than witty, without disguising the business answer'd, ‘ Monsieur Chastel was but newly gone out as you came, but you little think what he did while he stayed here, your looking and Courtesying so in the glasse, recalls his Postures to my memory; he took the same Glasse and stood a while thus contemplating his—you understand me well enough, I need explaine my selfe no further.’
This said, she fell againe into a fit of laughter, lowder than before; but Lauretta's ingenuity, presently prompted her to an action incomparably opportune to possesse Valderan (who heard all was said) with an opinion of extraordinary modesty in her, and to repaire the silly Servants indiscretion: for, as if she had received the highest affront imaginable, with a compleatly counterfeited choler, she snatch'd up a certaine piece of Iron, and broke the Glasse into small bits, saying she would ne're see her face againe where such [Page 46]ugly things had been shewn. Valderan, with a moderate smile, told her, she was of too cholerick a humour, there remained nothing on the glass of that object Chastel had presented her; yet I know within himself he commended this action, and was glad to have incounter'd so discreet and modest a Mistress, as all Lauretta's carriage and discourse still spake her: And in effect, this, with some other reservations, made him not solicite her with so much importunity to allay his flames, imagining he should never obtain any thing of her but by the warrantable way of Wedlock. Yet having no great desire to bind himself so soon in such strait Bands, he resolved to tempt Fortune again, and try to win his Mistress by proofs of an extream passion.
Chastel had so robb'd the King to inrich us, that we should have been the ingratefullest creatures living, had we not done something to acknowledge his civilities. At last I promised to let him hit the Mark his inclinations aimed at; and Lauretta (whose amorous Itch already required a remedy) needed no great perswasion to contribute her consent.
The same night she was to sacrifice her Virginity to the Deities of Love, being just ready to surrender the Fort (so long capitulated for before) to the vigorous assailant; Valderan came with a Musitian of his acquaintance before our windowes, and made him sing some very agreeable Airs, which with the sound of the Lute, hindered me from taking my repose; So led by the eares with that delightfull harmony, I came down into the Hall, and my Maid with me, thinking to hear it there more distinctly; but observe the vanity of our young Lover: That we should take notice, he gave us that Serenade, he caused some of his company to call him by his name aloud. But knowing it was not he that sung, and considering to present his Lady with onely bare Words and Musique, was little better than nothing; I bade my maid give him a hint of his backwardnesse: The Song ended, she open'd the lower window, and he thinking it had been Lauretta, immediately left his company to come to her, but finding it was not she, he eagerly ask'd where she was. ‘Do you believe (answer'd the Maid) that she is such a fool to break her sleep to come hear you claw 2. or 3. ill-favour'd Cats-guts? What's all your Airy hollow meat good for? You may play long enough upon your Barn-doore, Gittern, Lantern, Cittern, and Virgin-holes, Lauretta cares much for such entertainment; you think, because you spend your night dreaming of her, she spends hers thinking on you, remove that folly from your fancy; for now is she sleeping open legg'd in her bed, with a security that admits of neither Care or Fear: If you love her health, bid your companion forbear playing, lest you disturb her rest; neither is the present you give her so considerable, but she may content her self well enough without it. Thou art a jeering slut (said Valderan) I can present her nothing more suitable to her quality than Musique; for, Dost not thou know that is the onely thing we give the greatest Deities to invite them to love us, and thank them for lending us their succour? Marry you tell us fine stories indeed (replyed the Maid) you take Lauretta then for a Deity, Will you see what's in her Close stoole, or eat a Bit if your stomack serve? Ile assure you it is no Nictar, nor yet Master Ambrose. Your song concluded with a pretty expression (methinks) That your Sunne began to appeare at the Window of her Palace; and it was I doubtlesse you took for that great Luminary, therefore I conjecture the Rayes that stream from these bright eyes of mine, are accompanied with as shining a lustre as his Beams, or little less: The Night's then past, away, away with your Lute, Mr. Luterin, I advise you, it cann't be call'd a Serenade, you give us now, and you'l be thought an indiscreet Lover, making your addresses thus by Day. If my Mistress were as crosse as thou, said Valderan, I should be reduc'd to the extremity of discontent, but I believe she has a better opinion of my Musick. 'Tis like one of your Country-men indeed (answered the bold Wench) to conceit if she [Page 47]heard your Song, she could not choose but be deeper in love with you; but observe what a silly vanity you are possessed with; if the Song pleased her eare, she should rather love him that sung it: As for you, what Miracle have you ever done, that another cannot perform the like? The greatest Fool breathing may bring the most excellent Musitian can be found to sing before a Window. It is not with the voice I ever imagined to acquire the favour of my Mistresse, replyed Valderan, but with the extream affection I was desirous to declare her, though by another's singing. That's handsome I faith (said my Maid againe) a man that ner'e was sensible of the power of Love, may then (as well as you) make another say, he suffers the Keenest torments that passion e're inflicted upon poor Mortall.’
Valderan, seeing there was nothing to be got but scorn and shame from this scoffing Wench (most part of whose tart replies were framed out of the instructions I had given her) marched home again with his musick & I went to see my Niece lock'd fast in Castel's arms (both breathless with delight, having kept time in their recreative pleasures with the Lutenist's warbling notes.) I told Lauretta, not before her Bedfellow, who had made that Serenade, fearing to raise some umbrage in his thoughts; but next day I gave her a perfect account of the whole story, and considering the Miserie Women sometimes fall into, by exercising the trade I made her undertake, I conceived it would be good to get her a Husband as soon as possible, and if we could insnare the passionate Valderan in her Pit-fall, it would be a good advantage for us both: for, I imagined him infinitely rich and made account to wear out the remainder of my dayes quietly in his house, out of the danger of those Ship-wreeks I so much apprehended Next time Lauretta had any private conference with him, she fail'd not to let him understand how extreamely she was taken with his perfections, yet his credulous Vanitie would deceive him, if it suggested him to think he should ever obtaine any favour of her without making her his wife.
Passion having at that time a greater predominance over him than ever, he presently took a piece of paper and writ her a Promise of Marriage, thinking to have injoyed her after: But when he was gone, and she had shewn me the writing, not contented with that I sayed, he must resolve to marry her in Publique, or at least passe over a good part of his Estate to injoy her in Private. As we had almost brought him to agree to one of these propositions, we saw him one day dragg'd shamefully to prison (where I believe he is yet) for having affronted divers Merchants and others. When we understood all his Gallantry was mainteined by borrowing, we made no more esteem of him than of the Kennell dirt, and his Promise was flun'g into the fire as a thing not worthy to be preserved.
By this time our Exchecquer-man began to surfeit with Delight, and enjoyment had so cooled his Passion, that he neither came to see my Niece so often as he used, nor sent such frequent tokens. This constrain'd me to admit into my house severall other Gallants, to whom I had the industry handsomly to make known our necessities: Some of these assisted us a little, and others never awhit, but they were treated accordingly by Lauretta, who sometimes paid their Complements with curst frowns, and sometimes derided them with such witty and smart jeeres, as rendring them a scorn to the rest of the company, wounded them to the very hearts. Many times playing at Cards with them, she would take the liberty, in a jesting manner, to sweep up all their moneys, and never restore a penny; but she did it with such a grace, and pretty dexterity, as they could not for shame be offended at her frollique. Sometime there came forward fooles would be handling her bosome, as much to shew the fine Rings they wore, and dazle her eyes with their lustre, as for any other intent. Then catching the hand fast, would she say, This hand is over-bold, 'tis too impudently rash, it strayes into any place where lawlesse Desires guide it, and in time of Warre [Page 48]too it makes incursions into the Enemies Countrey; But now I have caught the Traitour, Ile not let him go till he has paid his Ransome. Then, slipping off the Ring, she continu'd, Ha! look here, this will help to make us satisfaction.
Sometimes the Ninny would ask her for it when he went away, then would she answer laughing, That must remaine with me for ransome of your hand; Did you not call me but even now your cruellest Enemie, recounting me the torments your passion made you suffer? You cannot but remember since that time we have neither made Peace nor Truce. If some dayes after he still importun'd her to restore what she had taken from him, and that it was of too considerable a value to be so easily parted with, she would re-deliver it, upon condition he would give her another Present at his own discretion. But in case she saw it was of no very great price, she would either keep it, and pay the owner with a jest, or say she had pawn'd it, and then he must redeem it with a summe of money, if he would have it.
She plaid a multitude of such profitable pranks, never considering the beauty, courtesie, or gentiless of any man to affect him more than others; for I had forewarn'd her to give such fopperies any entertainment in her thoughts, but onely countenance those whose pockets were best provided, & her disposition affecting variety of Men as well as of Cloaths, made her inclinable enough to follow my advice. Those that were most prodigall in expence and gifts, had always the preference in her esteem, yet they must be very modest, and take the oath of Secresie, before she would admit them to the supreme degree of Love's felicity, because she would still preserve the name of Chast.
She seldome went abroad but upon Holy-daies, and look'd so gentile at home in her Damoisel's habit, that the fairest Ladies of the Court might have been as envious of her beauty, as the other Sex inamour'd. A certain Noble-man named Alidan, seeing her in that equipage at the window, as he passed through our street, and vanquished with her amiable looks, could not be satisfied till he had informed himself who she was: But understanding she was the same Lauretta, whose perfections had already spread her fame in the Court, he became more inflamed at the remembrance of these proofs often averred to him of her excellent Wit.
He presently framed a design to purchase the possession of her, but imagining I would not part with her for what price soever, he conceived it necessary to take her away by force. He set so many spies in every corner over us, that we could stirre no whither, but he had presently notice of our Motion; So, one evening, when I was gone abroad, he sent a Gentleman of good fashion in a Coach to our house, who, stepping in to Lauretta, made her believe he came from me, and that instead of going where I told her when I went out, I was gone to a gallant Gentlemans house where I expected her, and that Coach was sent purposely to fetch her to me; By ill fortune Lauretta was in her best attire ready to take a walk, so she needed not much intreaty to take the benefit of the Coach, besides she knew I used to goe often to that Gentlemans house where she was told I was.
The Coach arriving at Alidan's house, she was received and treated by her new Lover, as you may imagine: Though at first she seemed to resent this treachery as a high affront, and would not suffer him that had cheated her in this manner, to touch her by any meanes; yet at length, considering his eminent quality, and the noble entertainment he made her, she became more tame, and suffered her selfe to be overcome. Mean time, I was exceedingly perplext for her, and all my exercise was to trot from place to place, to see if she were not in the houses of some of those Gentlemen had formerly made love to her.
The third day after I lost her, I met an honest man of my acquaintance, who [Page 49]gave me direct instructions where to finde her. Thither went I immediately, and ask'd to speak with Alidan, whom I told, He was the man (as I was inform'd) had given order to take away a certain Niece of mine that lived with me, and I beseech'd him to excuse my boldnesse for coming to know of him if 'twere true. After he had denyed it, ‘Sir, (said I) I will not trouble you with many Words, you need not conceale the fact from me, for I don't intend to have her againe, shee's in too good a hand, I come onely to let you know, you need not have made use of either Deceit or Violence to purchase her, had you but demanded her of me, I should readily have resign'd her to your will.’
Hearing me speak with so much freedome and sincerity, he discover'd me the whole Plot, and having given me a reward that might content me, he led me to see Lauretta in lodgings on the hinder part of his house. She made me divers excuses for not sending me word what was become of her, protesting she could not by any meanes procure the liberty to doe it. It was no small vexation to me (you must think) to be thus robb'd of her Company, but Necessity taught me to be contented. Sometimes Alidan sent her into the Countrey, sometimes kept her in the City, and most commonly in other lodgings, not at his owne house. Then I went more frequently and freely to visit her, and there we contrive our petty designes, and no body e're the wiser. I would desire but as many thousand Crownes as I have gone thither times with young Sparks that injoyed her, while he that was her Master and Servant both together, thought she could not open the Lock whereof he carryed the Key.
It is a Naturall thing to grow weary and be cloy'd, eating alwayes of one sort of Cates. Lauretta became at length lesse lovely in Alidan's eye, yet he would not forsake her quite; but desiring to retaste his ordinary Dishes when he listed, without scandal, he resolved to give her Valentine in Marriage, with some advantages, as a recompence for his former services. Valentine and she are since come to dwell in a Castle not farre hence, whither I am going to present her the commendations of a gallant Exchequer man, who shall obtain more in one day, than Francion has done in three Moneths. In Faith and he deserves it too, were it for no other reason than that he gave his affection birth, at a remarkable time, and upon a charitable account. The first time he saw Lauretta, was in the Church, when she was married, and considering her Husband look'd not like a man that could give her what she might desire, he proposed out of brotherly kindnesse to lend him his assistance. Within short time you will see him in this Countrey, for he is so confident I will acquit my selfe well of the charge I have taken upon me, that I believe he is come out of Paris already.
‘Are you satisfied now Francion? there's all I can tell you of your Mistresse: Doe you love her still as fervently as you did?’
‘I am more her Servant than ever (replyed Francion) and were not the memory of certaine follies committed in her Village, yet too fresh, among which I had my share, I would returne thither with you, and I am confident I should prevaile more by my submissions and testimonies of affection, than you and your brave Exchecquerman with the large summes on which you build all your hopes. Shall she love a Sot for the sight of his Gold, rather than his person, which I am sure cannot challenge much esteeme, being in a Word but an Exchecquer man? Ha! Francion my friend (replied Agatha) I have told you sufficiently what power Money has over the Spirit of Lauretta: I cannot deny that, but she's a Woman (said Francion) and not insensible of the communicative pleasures with a person whose merit is agreeable. It may be in hopes to finger good store of Ducats, she may prostitute her Body to the desires of such a silly Coxcomb: but she will never bend the inclinations of her mind to love [Page 50]him, and when she sees his Purse empty, she'l empty her thoughts of the affection she made him believe she bare him. Do the worst you can (Agatha) as soon as I can get this crack in my Crown cured, Ile go again secretly to see my Mistresse, and receive of her as much satisfaction as my passion can desire.’
This discourse ended, Agatha took leave of the Company, and setling her self again in the Cart, she advanced towards her Niece's dwelling-place, with whom she had no desire to treat in that manner as she had threatned Francion: for she resolved to make his game sure with Lauretta, without letting him know it, and give the Lawyer the Lurch.
This wretched sort of people are, and have alwaies been greatest observers, and onely admirers of those that give them most, or entertaine their boundlesse thoughts with highest promises: yet we scarce ever finde any of them arrive to any competent Subsistence. Their life is interwoven with continuall Miseries, neverthelesse their insensibility robbs them of Remords, and fils their vaine hearts with joy; yet 'tis but a false one, a meere shadow of delight, and farre different from that reall hearts-ease attends those that live uprightly. We have here seen Agatha's deportments, and heard her speak in termes very dissolute; But the nature of the Comedie requires those expressions, rightly to represent the part she was to personate, yet that's not capable to make us wrie our Soules to the desire or practise of Vice; quite contrary it renders Vice more hatefull, to see it so lively pourtraid in its true colour. Hereby we may learn what diverse Persons account delight, is nothing but a debosh'd Brutality, which all well temper'd Spirits will ever abominate and shun.
THE COMIQUE HISTORY OF
FRANCION.
The third Book.
AS this pernicious old Hagg bade adieu, leaving those had heard her discourse much satisfied with her facetious stories, into the Inne came a Coach, which the Gentleman, who had laine with Francion, sent for to his own house in the morning betimes: And after dinner, seeing the Rain was past, he ceased not importuning the Pilgrim, till he consented to take place in the Coach, telling him he was big with desire to be honor'd with his companie at his house, where he might be confident to finde as good entertainment as he could expect in the unknowne Village whither he intended to goe. I must acknowledge my selfe exceedingly redevable to Fortunes kindnesse (continued he) for addressing me into the company of a man whose acquaintance I shall be proud to purchase. Coming last night (with no other attendant than my Lacquay from visiting a handsome Widdow in this Country, named Helina) after I had supp'd with her, as I pass'd this way to shorten my Journey homewards, I was arrested here all night by an ill favour'd Accident, which now I blesse as the cause of my greatest happinesse: It was the breaking of my horses legg as he leap'd a Ditch, but I would not for fifty such Coursers have miss [...]d the incounter of so deserving a Person.
In acknowledgement of these grand civilities Francion return'd those compliments he judg'd most requisite, and having said in the close of his discourse, for recompence of such signall favours he would not stick to part with his blood & life, or any thing else could be demanded of him, the Gentleman replyed, That for the present he expecte [...] no further testimony of his Gratitude, than that he would please to recount him the Dreame had entertained his fancy the night before. So, overcome with Courtesie, as the Coach trundled along the pleasant Plaines, Francion thus began:
Sir, Since your ingenuous spirit desires to be recreated with the Chimerical fancies of a troubled Brain, I will tell you the most Extravagant you ever yet have heard, imposing, on my owne accord, this Law upon my Lips, that if any impertinences they let fall, disrelish you, I shall close them with the Seale of Silence, as soon as you please to discover your dislike. You should never make an end (said the Bourgundian Gentleman, interrupting him) if you would continue speaking till I bid you cease; for you can say nothing, but what is extreamely to the purpose, and [Page 52]will create singular satisfaction in the hearers: And though what you dreamt, may be void of Reason, and without Order, yet I will lend you my best attention, that I may the better track your fancy, and pick out some signification. I shall hold you no longer in expectation of the contentment you so much desire (replyed the Pilgrim) though I am confident] Artimidorus himself would want a thred to lead him out of this Labyrinth.
After I had ended my Story, and bid you good-night, I suffered my fancy to stray after an infinity of severall thoughts; I fell a building rare Designs, touching my Love and Fortune (the two Tyrants that prosecute my life) and being thus busied, I was, unawares, surprized by sleep.
I first fancied my self in a solitary Plain, where I found an old man that had large Ears, and his Mouth shut up with a Padlock, to open which, it was impossible, till the Letters, that serve to compose these words, IT IS TIME, were assembled at the key-hole.
Perceiving the use of Speech was forbidden him, I demanded the reason of his Tongue's restraint, thinking he would have answered by Signs, but, placing certain hollow Horns to his Ears, the better to receive my Voice, he pointed with his hand to a little Wood, as if the dumb language of his gesture had sent my Curiosiry thither for satisfaction.
When I had made my approaches something near, I heard a confused pratling noise, that did but unpleasantly mend the old mans defect. In the midst of many others, there were six Trees, which (instead of leaves) had slender Tongues tyed to their Branches, with so loose a thred, as every blast of wind (which then was somewhat boystrous) still knock'd them one against another: This Concussion made them break into a Chat so loud, as I might over-hear them brawl confusedly, and exchange their spight in most reproachfull tearms. The Contest had not continued long, before a mighty Giant, that was laid under the shade, suspecting they would reveal somewhat he desired to keep ever secret, unsheath'd his Cimiter, and gave his Arm no respite till he had beaten them down, and cut them all in pieces; yet they retained still so much of life, as made them often leap from the ground, and indeavour to continue their injurious Prattle. But his Fury soon found a greater cause of increase; for passing something farther, he spied me leaning against a Rock, where he knew I might read an ample relation of his whole life's vicious behaviour. This provoked his hasty approach to hack that witness of his crimes, in pieces; but, perceiving the obdurate Stone (without confessing the least Dint) at every blow, send his jarring Blade back to his Head; his Rage was wound up to that height, as immediately he kill'd himself with his own Weapon; and such an intolerable stink proceeded from his body, that it forc'd me to retreat as far back as I could to avoid it. After this (methought) I was in Heaven; how I came there I know not, for you know how ill the Method of Reason is observ'd in Dreames: And now you shall hear the most fantastick imaginations that ever crept into a Brain, but I must desire you to forbear laughing, lest I should bear you company, and then my Head (which I feel yet very fore) must suffer for it.
Forward (good Sir) said the Gentleman, I take too much pleasure in this Relation to endure delay, and for Laughter, my Teeth shall imprison it: But well, you were in Heaven (you say) and how contriv'd, was it handsom? A very handsom question (said Francion) could it be otherwise, being the Seat of Glory, and Fountain of the most Radiant Beauties?
Methought the Starres (the better to illuminate those Vaults) shin'd as well under, as above me, and were all fastned to their Orbs with golden Buckles: After I had pleased my eyes a while with the contemplation of these Mervailes, I spied a company of beautifull Ladies (which I took for Goddesses) that came and unbuckled every one her Starre, and fastned it to the end of a Silver Wand, [Page 53]to light them to the Sphere of the Moon; for the Sun's absence (he being then in the other Hemisphere) had made the way very dark. This made me conjecture, that the cause why the Starres sometime seemed to shift their station, came from this Custome of displacing them.
I made these gossipping Goddesses my Guides, till one of them looking back, spy'd me, and shew'd me to the rest of her Companions, who presently made all towards me, and bade me welcome, with such excess of complement, that I resented some shame to finde my self so posed in Courtship; But the celestiall Shrewes soon set a Date to their kind entertainment, and fell to consider what rigorous punishment they should inflict upon me: After a short consultation, the least in the company began to swell to such a prodigious bigness, that her Head saluted ths Roof of the next Heaven above her, and (to prove her Strength suitable to her Shape) she gave me such a fierce kick with her foot, as made me roul six times about the World in a moment,; for, the Plancher was so round and smooth, I still glided away without ceasing, but (as I suppose you know) there being neither Ascent nor Descent, when I came to the Region of our Antipodes, I was no more revers'd than here.
At last, lighting into the Concave of a strake made by the Wheel of the Sun's Chariot, there my Course was stopp'd, and I might have lain long enough, had I not been help'd up by the fellow that look'd to his Horses, who, after a little conference, told me he had formerly been a Groom in the King's Stable, which made me foster a conceit, that after Death Men follow'd the same Profession in the other World, as they professed on Earth. Growing familiar with him, I desired he would shew me the most remarkable Singularities the place afforded: Easily consenting to my demand, he led me immediately to a great Christall Bason, wherein discerning a kind of white Liquor, not much unlike Soapsuds, I ask'd him what that signified? he answer'd, it was the matter whereof mine, and all other Humane Souls were formed: This was continually haunted by a number of little winged Boyes, no bigger than a Finger, that hover'd over till they had dipp'd a straw into it, and then slew I know not whither. My Conductor (being wiser than I suspected him) informed me, that they were the Genyes of Mankind, who, with their little Pipes, gadded to and fro, to infuse Soules into the Wombs of sleeping Women eighteen dayes after their Conception, and the more they injected of that Matter, the better the Infant (whose Birth they took care of) was furnished with Judgement and Generosity.
I demanded then why the Dispositions of Men were so various, since their Souls were all made of the same Materialls. You must know (reply'd he) this Composition is the Excrement of the Gods, who are still wrangling among themselves; and this Substance, which proceeds from their Bodies, imitates their contentious inclinations, as appears by the continuall agitation of the Liquor, which perpetually fumes and foams into an angry Froath, as if some seditious Wind within were fomenting the War: Besides, the Souls, when diffused into humane Members, are still at discord, because the Organs, by which they act, are of such different constitutions, one overflowes with Flegm, another is [...]opprest with Melancholly, in this Choller Tyrannizes, in that Blood Predominates, and so from the opposition of humors, it is easie to collect effects as contrary.
See what rare Reasons (said I) hath this fellow found out for humane dissentions; But, Sirrah, you say the Gods are quarrelsome; you lie, and take that for your saucy Blasphemy; with that I reach'd him a good box on the ear, but the stout Knave repaid me so rudely, that he fell'd me to the bottom of the Bason, where, before I could recover my self, I swallow'd (I believe) above 50000 Souls: Therefore now sure I ought to be taken for a Man of notable spirit and courage. Methought this Drink had a kind of a sweet taste, like Asses [Page 54]Milk, yet it could not properly be called a liquor, but rather a certain concreted Mist or spiscious Froath; for being with no small paine got out againe, I found it had not so much as moistned my Cloaths.
My curiosity not yet satisfied, I went on in quest of some more novelties, and after a little wandring I perceived divers persons, some drawing at a great Cord, and some reposing themselves, being newly come from the same exercise, which I judg'd was very toilesome by the large drops of sweat I saw trickling from their fore-heads: ‘What are these? What is't they doe? said I to a man clad like an Hermit, that stood by looking on; These are the Gods (answered he very civilly) that busie themselves in keeping the Spheare of the world in its ordinary Motion, you shall presently see those others that now are resting themselves, returne to the reliefe of these that labour; But how doe they turne the Spheare? quoth I. Did you never see a Wall-nut (replyed he) pierc'd through and a stick put into it, which being drawne by a thred, turn'd a little Mill at the end of it? Very oft, said I, for when I was a Boy it was my ordinary Pastime: You will easily then conceive this Misterie (answer'd he) if you doe but fancy the Earth (which is stable) to be such a Nut, for it is peirc'd through with that long Travers call'd the Axletree that reaches from Pole to Pole. To the middle of which, this Cord is fastned, in in such a manner, as by drawing it the first Heaven is turned round, and having Pullyes in certaine Holes that directly answer one another, the next is likewise turn'd (but more swiftly) and so the motion is deriv'd to all the rest in order. But walke a little further this way and I will shew you another secret.’
I presently turn'd my steps as he directed, and guiding my eyes to that part of the Heavens his finger pointed at (which was very transparent,) I spy'd a company of women that seem'd to play with the Circles, and (striking them with their hands) made them turne about like Whirligigs.
Then, me thought I had a desire to returne to the Earth, and intreating the Hermit to instruct me in the way, he bade me lay hold with both my hands on the Cord the Gods were drawing at, by which I slipt without much trouble downe, till I came to the entrance of that wide Opening, where it pass'd through, and then to escape the Precipice (I cannot relate the manner) but the Aire (me thought) bare me up, and I hover'd in it, as if my Armes had been Wings; This new fashion'd Dance between Heaven and Earth much delighted me for a while, but at last I grew weary of that exercise; and finding my selfe neare two little Ditches full of water, I perceived two naked young men bathing, and often vaunting of the delicate pleasures all their Members tasted to the very Throat in that liquid Christall: This set me a longing to take my share in the happinesse they bragg'd of, so I nimbly strip'd off all my Cloaths, and spying a Ditch, whose waters seem'd of a cleerer complexion than the rest, I chose that for my Bath; But as soone as I had stept into it, I found my selfe fallen downe a Precipice, for it was onely a broad piece of Glasse, which breaking with my weight almost flay'd my leggs with the broken edges.
Yet Fortune so kindly contriv'd the fall, that I was not bruis'd; The bottome was all covered with the tender Brests of young women, glew'd together two by two, like pretty soft Foot-bals, upon which I gently rowl'd my self fancying much delight in my misfortune: But at last tir'd with the continuance of the sport, and lastly reposing my selfe on my back, a handsome Lady approaches me with a Bottle in her hand, kneels down by me, and puts a Tunnel in my Mouth, saying, She would give me a taste of the most delicious Liquor I had ever drunk. This made me prepare to receive it with a wider throat than the singing-man that swallowed a drown'd mouse in his Mornings draught, when she raising her selfe a little, in stead of making my Mouth water, made water [Page 55]in my Month, to the quantity of at least a Pinte, S. Dennis measure, and it was all run down my Throat, before I could distinguish the taste of her Bounty. But Desire to revenge this immodest injury, set me quickly upon my leggs, and the payment of a single box o'th' Eare for my Beverage, shatter'd her Body all to pieces: Here lay her Head, there her Arms, a little farther her Thighs, in short, all her Members were divided and scatter'd one from another; But, which most amazed me, every part, notwithstanding the Dissolution, busied it selfe in the sunction of its usuall office, The Leggs walked about the Cave, the Armes struck at me, the Mouth grinn'd, and the Tongue reviled me.
The Feare I apprehended to incurre Danger for this Woman's Death, made me strain my invention to recover her; a strong conceit possessed me, that if all the Parts were reunited, she would return to her former estate, since none had yet forgot to exercise its proper function: and having thus put her together againe (like a Clock that had been taken in pieces) her Armes and Head onely excepted, methought her Belly look'd so inticingly, that I began to be in the humour to sport with it, and tender her an amorous Redresse for satisfaction of my former Rudenesse, when her Tongue cry'd out, I had mistaken her Breasts, and put others (which my hast had gather'd up in the Cave) in the room of hers. This set me a seeking for the right ones, (which found) I had no sooner put them in their places, but the Head and the Arms came of their own accords, to recompleat the whole, and take their share in the delight with the rest of the Members; the Mouth kiss'd, and the Arms hugg'd me with close embraces, till wearied into a pleasing languishment, I chang'd the Recreation into Rest.
Then the Lady made me rise, and (through an Advenue that conveyed the light into the Cavern) led me by the hand into a spacious Hall, the walls of which were hvng about with wanton Pictures, that represented the soft sports of Love in many vary'd postures. I had not long entertain'd my eyes with the contemplation of these inanimate Pieces, but from the next Chamber, there started out a score of handsome Lasses, with their haire dancing in loose curls about their naked bodies, and came all frisking towards me, beating the Switzers march upon their buttocks; and after some pretty freaks, surrounding me, they fell to tabour mine to the same tune, till my patience giving way, I try'd to requite their Musick upon their own Instruments: But at length feeling my selfe too weak to maintaine this sportive quarrell, I made a flat retreat into a Closet I found open, the floore of which was strewed with Roses, halfe a yard thick: Thither the wanton Conquerants pursued me, and there we rowl'd one over another after a mad fashion, till, I believe, we were all alike willing to give the Game over. At last, they buryed me over head and eares in the flowers, where wanting the benefit of Aire, I strove as fast as I could to recover my feet, but ere I could rise out of my fragrant Sepulchre, my joviall fellow-tumblers were all vanisht. And as I past out of the Rose-bed, through the great Hall, in quest of my bonny Lasses, I met with an old Woman like Agatha, who begg'd a kiss of me with this pretty invitation, that she was much handsomer than those impudent queans I sought for: But I (that could finde no inticement in such a decrepit Deformity) gave her a rude repulse; and as I had advanced a few steps from her, Well Francion, said she, You will repent this Deniall, and shortly sue in vaine for what you now so uncivilly reject. These words invited my stragling looks back again to her, and then to my grand amazement, I perceived she was not an old Woman (as I first fancied) but the faire Lauretta, that had cost me so many sighs. Pardon me, Deare Mistresse, cry'd I immediately, and let your sodaine transformation beare the blame of my dis [...]respect. This said, I offer'd to embrace her, but she presently vanish'd, and left me nothing but an arm-full of Aire: then the noise of a loud laughter directed my eye to the place whence [Page 56]it came, where I spy'd all my naked Troop of Play-fellowes mocking at the Adventure had befallen me, and among other things they said, in stead of Lauretta I must make shift with one of them. Content (cry'd I) let any one of you (that can entertaine me with a Maiden-head) come see what sport I'le shew her upon the Rose-bed; at that they fell a laughing ten times louder, and so confounded me with their Clatter, that I was jeer'd quite out of countenance; At last the Youngest in the company began to pitty me, and coming neerer, told me, if I would goe along with the company, she would shew me all their Maiden-heads.
I followed her, and ere we had gone farre, She conducted me into a little Temple, upon the Altar of which, I saw the Image of the God of Love inviron'd with abundance of small Viall-glasses, fill'd with a kinde of substance that could not properly be call'd Liquor; It was of a Vermilian colour like blood, onely in some places there was a mixture of white streakes like milke. See, (quoth she) these are Womens Maiden-heads, and those, we might once call ours, are here among them; as soon as they are lost, they are brought to the Altar of this Deity, who esteems them above all other Offerings: By the Scrowles upon them, you may know their Names to whom they once belong'd, and what the Men were that got them. Pray shew me Lauretta 's (said I to her) Look Francion (answered she, bringing me one of the Glasses in her hand) this is her's, you may know it by her name written on it: But I see not the Champions name (said I) that had the first happinesse to struggle for it. You must know (reply'd my faire Directresse) when a Maiden-head is resign'd before Marriage, the name of him that had it is never recorded, nor is it fit such failings should be revealed; For the uncontrouled force of Vigorous Nature does oft provoke us to surrender the Fort at the first assault, sometimes perhaps to an unworthy Person, and then the discovery of his Name would shame us. From this you may conclude, that so soon as your Lauretta perceiv'd her Virgin-bud to disclose, she suffer'd it very providently to be cropt, knowing Delay would but blow it broader, and the longer she suffer'd it to grow, the more it hasted to a fading, and the lesse the pleasure would be at the gathering. After this wholsome Discourse, she led me into an adjoyning Temple, where upon a high Altar was raised the Statue of Vulcan, with a paire of goodly Hornes on his head, at least seven foot in height, and the Walls were all hung round with Armory of the same kinde. Sure this is some Hunter (said I to my Guide) that has hung up these horned Trophies in memory of his sportive Conquest in the Woods; No, no, quoth she, these are the badges of Cuckoldry, which men carry invisibly about them; Presently from an obscure corner of the Temple comes out Valentine, clad like a Chimney-Sweeper, and his Fore-head branch'd with a paire of Silver Hornes. Thou art not indebted to me for these precious ornaments (said I to my selfe) but thou shouldst have been, could I as easily have done it as desired it. Then some of the Lasses that follow'd us, took occasion to make themselves merry with the faire Crop that grew upon his fore-head, and continued to deride him with such broad abuses as forc'd him to give way to their Mirth, and so was hiss'd out of the companie. When he had left the Room, they told me his Argent Hornes signified, that his wife help'd him to a profitable Infamie, and I might see some there deck'd with pretious Stones, but those that were simply of Wood, belong'd to such blinde Wretches as were Cuckolds, but knew it not, and gain'd nothing by their Wives Levitie, besides the bare Disgrace.
Having offered up a short Prayer to the God Vulcan, that he would permit I might plant store of those Branches in others Soles, but never suffer them to take Root in mine owne, I returned to the Temple of Love, whom with meet Devotion I besought, he would vouchsafe to indue me with the Art and Power to crop as many Virgin-flowers, as would serve to cover his whole Altar. These Ceremonies past, I returned very jocund to the Ladies Hall, but at the door I [Page 57]was incounter'd by Valentine, who charg'd me with his Antlers so boysterously, that he deeply wounded me in the Belly; This made me retire to the Rosie Cabinet, where lying downe, I began to survey my Bowels, and peruse all that was most secret about them: I drew them out at full length, and had the curiosity to measure them with my hand, but I cannot remember how many spannes they were long: 'twere a hard task to relate the humour I was then in, for (though I found my self deeply wounded) yet, methought, I was neither dismaid at the Danger, nor very desi [...]ous to seek a Remedy. I had not laine long in this Pickle, when the Woman that pissed in my mouth, came with a Needle and Thred, and sewed up the Orifice so neatly, as there remain'd not the least appearance of a Scarre: This done, she invited me to her Cavern, with a promise to shew me Lauretta: When we were come below, perceiving Lauretta stand up in a corner without any motion, Passion made me run eagerly to imbrace her, but (instead of being entertain'd with delicate soft flesh) I felt nothing but a could Stone, which made me imagine it was onely her Statue, and not she: Yet I observed her eyes rowle to and fro, as if they had imployed their owne lively Glances; and her Mouth, after the Prologue of a pleasing smile, gave me these words, My deare Francion, welcome, my Anger is now overblowne, and I have here long waited for your Coming. The woman that conducted me, perceiving me somewhat perplex'd, told me I did but cast away my imbraces, for Lauretta was inclos'd in a case of Glasse fitted to the proportion of her Body, which I might easily discover, if I look'd but a crosse upon it. Then she fell to discourse of Valentine, and would needs perswade me that I was as feeble and insufficient as he to performe a charge in Love's combate, but withall, told me she would apply Remedies to restore my vigour: (for you know in Dreames the fancy commonly is most busied in repeating the passages of the precedent day.) In summe, she made me lye downe at my full length, and thrust a long slender stick so farre into my Fundament, that it appear'd above the Crowne of my head; yet I was so farre from feeling the least paine, that I was more ready to break out into laughter than complaint; and all I suffer'd by its passing through me, was onely a tickling kinde of delight it left in those parts it pierc'd: At length guiding my hand to that part of the stick that came out at the top of my Head, I found it began to put out with little Branches full of leaves, and a little after appear'd the Bud of an unknowne Flower, which beginning to open, by degrees spred it selfe wide enough to entertaine my eye with the delight of its delicate colour. Curiosity made me long to know whether the smell was as gratefull to the Nose, as the beauty to the eye; but not being able to carry my Nose to that, I resolv'd to bring it to my Nose: to satisfie my sence I nip'd the stalk asunder, but was strangely amaz'd when I saw bloud drop from the parts my Nailes had wounded. Presently after I began to be sensible of a little paine, of which when I had acquainted my Chyrurgion, she came running to me, and seeing what I had done cry'd out, your owne rashnesse has ruin'd you, Alas! the flower you have gather'd was one one of the Members of your Bodie, you must perish immediately; But I know (replyed I) it is in your power to restore me, for you have given a pregnant proof that nothing is too hard for your Skill. Well (said she) He doe my best to cure you, and since Lauretta is here too, I despair not by her meanes to succeed well in my enterprise. This said, she opened that part of the Glasse-case which was opposite to Lauretta's Mouth, bidding her blow into a long hollow Cane, the further end of which she had put into a little hole in the ground, made on purpose; then having pull'd the stick out of my body, she plac'd my back-part over a hollow passage, that directly answeto the lower end of the Cane; Now blow ( said she to Lauretta) with all your might, for it is your breathing this way must restore your dying Servants spirits, though other Ladies use to apply, and receive such Cordials from their Lovers, by fervent kisses at the other end.
[Page 58]Then, methought, I felt a sweet breath gently steale in at my posterne gate, which gave me a most incredible delight; by degrees it increased, and at length became so vehement, that it lifted me from the Earth to the Roof of the Vault: afterwards, by little and little, it began to moderate its violence, and in conclusion, by a gentle kinde of hovering descent, set me downe againe: then turning my head toward Lauretta, I perceived she had broken her Glasse prison in two pieces, and looking very blithe, came dancing towards me; I being firme upon my feet (for she had left blowing in the Pipe, that made me caper in the Aire) and forgetting the foregoing passages, an eager Love-fit made me ope my Armes with intent even to bruise her with my imbraces: But at that instant you waked me, and made me see what an Armfull of ugly Wrinkles I had got, instead of my faire Mistresse. When I consider what delicate sport you spoil'd, which I was tasting in Idea, I can give it no better title than an injury; but then weighing again how you rescu'd my body from polution, with a thing I cannot think on without horror, I find my Obligation too big for my Expression, the Pleasure had onely dissembled with my Fancy, but the Mischief would have outlasted the Dream, therefore I conclude my self your deep Detor for the Courtesie.
‘Indeed (replyed the Gentleman) I could wish you were not so beholding to me; for that which you are pleased to acknowledge so great a favour, I account an injury to my self, and am now sorry I was so ready to wake you, else your Dream had continued longer, and the Pleasure I receive in hearing you recount it, been proportionable: My eares were never entertained with any thing more delightfull; What a happinesse do you enjoy during the dull season of Night, to have your spirits recreated with such gamesome entertainments! had I the like favour from my Starres, I should desire to spend three quarters of my life in sleeping; for by that meanes, at least, I should possesse in imagination all the advantages I were denyed by Fortune. Ha [...] happy Endymion, favour me with the knowledge of your Diet, and what sorts of Drinks you use Bedwards, that furnish you with such pleasant Dreames. I (said Francion) commonly drink the best Wines I can finde, and eat none of the meanest Meats; If the God Morpheus visits me sometimes, he findes the way to my lodging on his owne accord, I use no spell to bring him; However, I finde no such pleasure in my Dreames, as may invite you to desire the like facultie; for, if you but ballance the inquietudes my Braine and whole Body have been toss'd in, you'l confesse they farre out-weigh any contentment I resented: One while I was beaten, another while kick'd and bruised with falls, on every hand I still met with something of Sinister. Of all your Adventures (said the Gentleman) in my opinion, the most facetious was your incounter with the Sun's Horse-keeper, when he sent you a fishing Soules at the bottome of the great Bason: I have observ'd your Spittle all this day, and methinks it looks as if it were of that same liquor you swallow'd in your Divinge. A rare imagination, in troth (replyed Francion laughing) But Sir, will you give me leave now to challenge your promised interpretation of my roving Fancy? I finde such an intricate mixture of various Riddles in it (answered the Burgundian) that I need not blush to break my word, yet, lest I should too farre discredit my apprehension) I will adventure to bolt at as much Mythologie, as the short Arms of my conquer'd Conceit can fathome.’
And first, to begin with your old Man with the Padlock at his Mouth, methinks he represented a wise Man, that is not lav [...]sh of his language, and yet can tell how to break Silence, when Time invites him. The babbling Tongues were Emblems of back biting Persons, that never think they have said enough, though every Word has a detracting sting at the end of it. The Gyant, that was so inrag'd at the Satyricall unripping of his Vitious life, resembles a wicked [Page 59]States-man, that loves to act what he loathes to heare of. And if you would know the meaning of your Heavenly Adventurers, they may serve to deride the sublime folly of pretenders to Astrologie, and mock at the repute, they would have the World ascribe to their uncertaine Science. The Glasse that broke when you fell into the Cave, shewes the instability of Worldly pleasures. The Womans pissing in your Mouth signifies, that the deare delight we fancy in the wanton exploit with Women, is but Excrement and Ordure; And the Blow that struck her into so many Pieces may let you understand the sraile constitution of Womens Love, which is so prone to be divided, and (upon every slight occasion) ready to crack into inconstancy: That the Head and Arms would not lose their share in the pleasure with the rest of the Members, shadowes their Vaine Pride, that would not onely be ador'd for what is handsome about them, but what their partiall Mistake apprehends to be so, though it be not. By the Wanton Wenches that appear'd to you strip'd of their apparell, you may fancy terrestriall joyes that are poore and Naked, if compar'd with those that dwell above. The Temples of Maidenhead and Cuckoldry their owne Interpreters. And if Valentine would needs wound you with his hornes, it was because the Courtesie you indeavour'd to doe him, deserv'd no better requitall: but you were cur'd incontinent, and that shewed the ill will the Cuckold beares you, is never like to prove dangerous. As for Lauretta, whom you might see, but not touch, it may possibly meane that you may be deceiv'd in your pregnant hopes to enjoy her. And for the Remedy was given you for your imaginary impotency, your cropping the flower that sprouted above your head, and the ridiculous manner of saving your life, shewes that a broken head (as yours is now must have leave to dandle extravagant conceipts. If you will needs be so curious to inquire the meaning of your fall upon the Womens brests, with some other circumstances, pray play your owne Reason at them, for I am resolv'd to be foole no longer, nor trouble my selfe with controuling or observing others follies. I cannot dislike your Reasons (answered Francion) and because my Head is crack'd, I feare my Braines will fly out at the Chink.
What Discourse soever pass'd betwixt them hereupon, for my owne part I conclude with this opinion, that whosoever suffer themselves to be carryed downe the streame of Mundane Vanities, their Thoughts must continually follow the motion of their Hearts, and their sleep can ne're be quiet; Or I may rather say, they sleep and dreame alwaies, for what e're they see is but Illusion and Fallacy; in so much, though Francion seemed to distinguish the Nightwalkes of his Fancy from the rest of his life's adventures, I esteem them parallel, and believe his Actions were not much more regular: However (as the common errour of distempered People, is to believe they are not distempered▪ when he made the recitall of his Dreame, he imagined himselfe awake, and his companion thought no lesse: For they, whose Braines are diseased, and deluded with the Fantasies of this World, are not capable of knowing the abuse.
Divers ingenious and agreeable flourishes and conceipts that took their rise from some Passages of the Dreame, were hadsomely interchang'd betwixt our [Page 60]fellow-travellers, till at last they arrived at a faire Castle, that belong'd to the Burgundian Gentleman, the plaisance of whose Seat, with the stately Structure, curious Contrivance, sumptuous furniture, and multitude of Attendance that paid him great respect at his entrance, speak him of more eminent quality than Francion formerly imagined.
After Supper the Gentleman conducted Francion into a goodly Chamber, pressing him to goe to Bed presently, because he had need of Rest, then commanding the wound in his Head to be unbound, and the Plasters his Countrey Chirurgion had applyed, to be taken off, he dress'd it with a certaine exquisite Balme was brought out of Turkie, that had the vertue in very short space to cure all sorts of Wounds. This done, You promis'd me last night in the Inne, (said he) to undisguise your selfe, and give me a real account of your more particular Adventures; Now Leisure and Opportunity invite me to chalenge your Promise, and I expect no lesse satisfaction from your Courtesie, than the discovery of your Name, and relation of your Fortunes. Sir (answered Francion) the Ingratefullest amongst men were too good a stile for me, should I be so unworthy as to deny any thing you shall please to demand of me; your Civilities have made an absolate purchase of my services, and while Heaven lends me breath, I shall ever acknowledge my selfe intirely yours; I must account it one of the greatest blessings my Starres did e're vouchsafe me, that I so happily incounter'd a Gentleman, whose Generosity expects nothing but a few Words in recompence of such signall favours: And now Sir, to give you earnest of my Intention, to comply alwayes with your desires, I shall imploy the best of my endeavours to answer your present expectation. This said, the Gentleman seating himselfe in a Chaire by his Bed-side, Francion entertain'd him with this following story.
Since you are pleas'd to be so lavish of your time, as to waste it in hearing my Discourse, I thinke it not improper first to give you an account of my Extraction; My Fathers name was La Porta, his Native Countrey Bretanit, hit descent is sufficiently knowne to be from the noblest and most antient Families of that Province, his Vertues and Personall Valour were so signall, that (though, by the negligence and faithfull Tradition of the Pen-men of that age, he be not Chronicled in the History of France) 'tis not unknowne who he was, and his name lives yet fresh in the memories of the most considerable Persons, for severall generous exploits performed, as well in open Battailes, for the service of his Prince, as in private Incounters. After he had worne out the best part of his Age, in expectation of Advancement, by the support of some Grandees, finding Fortune partiall in the dispensation of her Favours, and not inclining to answer his Merit, he left the Court in a discontent, and retired into his owne Countrey, where he had a competent Estate in Lands, which then fell intirely into his owne hands by the decease of his Mother: But she, having married her selfe to a second Husband after his Fathers Death, the surviving Successor of her Bed, unwilling to relinquish the possession of so good a Pawn, and being naturally inclin'd to Contention, detain'd a considerable part to better his condition, and maintaine a suite against my Father with his owne Money. In fine, the Plea was drawne up in forma, and ready to be brought to a hearing before the Bailiff of one of the Principall townes in our Province; Insomuch, my Father (who had rather have been commanded to force a Towne by assault, than constrained to fee a Lawyer; or make use of his sword in a single Combat, than handle a Pen or Buckram Bag at the Hall) knew not of what Wood to make his shaft, nor how to comport himself in this contest; At length, considering the strange influence and Power Presents have over the Viler sort of Soules (such as the Iniquity of these Times has seated in the highest places of Judicature) he resolved to tempt Justice with something worth acceptance, and knowing the Grand Bailiff's vanity, he conceived a Piece of rich Satin, to new Robe him, might prove ponderous enough to weigh downe the Scale: with [Page 61]this Silken baite, he went to recommend his case to his Judge, who assur'd him he should have Justice; But my Father, having left his Lacquay at the doore, took the Satin under his owne Arme, which the Judge observing, What have you there Sir? said he, is that a Bug of writings there under your Arme? Have you any other piece to shew me? Yes Sir answered my Father, It is a Piece of Satin was given me by a Merchant, in lieu of a summe of Money due to me, and I take the boldnesse to present it you, to refresh your memory, and make you more willing to peruse the Pieces I have delivered you concerning my Processe, and I beg your pardon if it be not answerable to your Desert. The Bailiffe putting on a severe Countenance, and gravely stroaking up his starch'd Mustachoes, How Sir, (said he) who doe you take me for? I that am a Judge Royall, whose Integrity is irreprovable, doe you thinke me a Man to be corrupted by a Bribe, or that your Present (as you call it) can oblige me to be e're a whit more carefull of your Cause? Doe not I know my owne duty thinke you, without such Remembrancers? Go, Go, I have nothing to say to you, nor your Satin neither, though the purchasing my Office emptied my Coffers (I confesse) I will not however replenish them with Money so ill gotten, I shall content my selfe with Honour and Authority: Learn henceforwards not to tempt those that are incorruptible, Did your Proctor give you this advice? were I so assured he had no more discretion, I should forbid him coming to the Barre this Twelve-month, for he ought to understand better than you what concernes my charge.
My Father seeming somewhat troubled at this check, and the personated choller, that painted it selfe in the Judges face, presently put up the Satin again under his Cloake, and with a low Cap-Complement, took leave without speaking one Word. The Mistresse of the House, who from an inner Chamber had heard all the difference, not willing to let such Preyes escape her Chitches▪ stopped his passage with a profound Courtesie accompanyed with these Words, You see Sir, my Husband is something Cholerick, you took not the right course to make him a friend to your cause, give me your Satin, I will pacifie him well enough, and he shall accept your Present. My Father had already resolved to convert it into a Suit for his owne wearing, though he seldome went in black, indeed hating it as a Melancholy and undelightfull Colour, which suited with none but People he did not greatly affect, because contrary to his Martiall disposition.
In summe, the Satin was delivered to Madam Baily-vesse; But her Husband not knowing she had been so provident, in meane time stood watching at his Hall window, and seeing his Client goe through the Court, Doe you heare, doe you heare, Monsieur de la Porta (cry'd he aloud to my Father) you shall be forgiven this once, so I finde you no more tardy; you may leave what you would have given me even now, for I consider it would be too much trouble for you to carry it home againe. I have given't your Wife already (answered my Father) and so went away directly to his Proctors, who was one of the best of the Cabal: After he had heard the passages betwixt my Father and the Bailiffe, This is no wonder you tell me, Sir, answered he, Alas! you know not the disposition of the Man so well as I, He is no Catch-pole, but he will catch as many Pieces as he can, nothing comes amisse to his hands, and his house is like Hell, what e're you carry thither, you must not expect to bring it back againe. He ask'd you if I counsell d you to offer him that Present, because he knowes there's none of Ʋs that are acquainted with his humour, will give our Clients any such Advice: You should have given it his Wife at first, or rather emploied some other to present it her, the better to cover the corruption, and that he might still preserve the repute of an Ʋpright Man.
Notwithstanding this Silken Baite, my Father lost the Fish, and was not onely cast in his Cause, but adjudg'd to pay all Charges, besides the Judges Fees, which amounted high, for Monsieur Baily cared not for playing at small [Page 62]games; and the reason that incited him to pronounce that just sentence, was this, The Adverse party having intelligence from the Mercer that sold the Satin, how it had been bestowed, and fearing that fine present might prove prejudicial to his interest, went likewise before the Day of Hearing, to solicite Mr. Bailiff: But not daring to offer him any thing, knowing the custome and humour of the Personage, he bethought himself of a gentile wile to obtaine his own pretences, and cloak the others corruption: So, observing a handsome Picture, as he walked in the Hall with his Judges Wife, he fell into high commendations of the rare workmanship, and wished he knew where to purchase such another Peice; ‘This is at your service (said the Lady) if you are so taken with it, you may command it. I am infinitely engaged to your courtesie, answered he, But pray tell me what it cost, for I am resolved to give you to the full value. Truly Sir it cost six Crownes. There's six and thirty for you, replyed he, putting a purse of money in her hand, the paines you took to buy it, and the trouble you will find in weaning your fancy from it, deserves a no less summe.’ The subtill Woman easily conjecturing why he gave her so great a price for her Picture, pleaded his Cause so close, that overcome by her solicitation, her Husband pronounced sentence in his favour.
There's no base Action committed, though never so secretly, but by one Accident or other, is still brought to light. This was published by a Servantmaid the Bayliff turn'd away, after he had paid her with many heavie blowes, which so exasperated the silly wenches rage, that wheresoever she came, she related this story, and spake his praises in such termes, as rendred him odious and subject to all Peoples censure.
My Father distasted at his ill successe, went to communicate his case to a Counsellor in the Court of Parliament of our Province, desiring to know if he might not appeale from the sentence of that inferiour Justice-seller. The Lawyer, who was never accustomed to disswade any Client from contention, failed not to remember his own interests in this Occurrence, and incouraged my Father by divers reasons to sue out his Appeal. You that are a Gentleman (said he) must shew you have some Spirit, and not suffer your selfe to be overcome easily: A Processe is a kinde of a Combate, where the Palme is given to him that wins the Prize, as well as at the Olympick games. He that makes himself a Sheep (according to the Proverb) the Wolf will eat him: you must live in the Countrie among stubborn, churlish people, that will be apt to wrangle and denie your due observance, or come off quit of their Rents, especially if they see you once so tame as to suffer your self to be led by the Nose like a muzled Ox. Besides, if you remove your Suit to our illustrious Court, you will finde incomparable Advantages; It will be a meanes to make you knowne to those that never heard of you, and render your Name immortall: For our Registers and Records are eternall Monuments, where your Memorie shall be preserved to all Posteritie, and your successors that shall inherit the Estate you leave, seeing these authentique proofes of your endeavours to preserve it, will magnifie your care, and solemnize continuall Anniversaries to your Remembrance. These considerations ought to sweeten your sorrow, and make you not so much repine at a little transitorie trouble, that perchance may disgust in the pursuance of your just Claime: In fine, by my Advice you should not let your Adversarie rest, nor hearken to any composition, though he should offer it, you need nothing but a definitive Sentence, and make you no doubt of obtaining one to your owne contentment, for your Cause has Reason and Equity to plead for it.
Hereupon he fell a turning over Bartolus and Cujas, from head to feet, and cited Law-cases of all sorts, to prove my Fathers Right, who (good Man) believed all he said, not considering he was then in a place where they understood nothing better than supposing of false titles, and never remember any reasons, but such as they know will please their Clients. To be short, he was directed [Page 63]to a sucking Proctor lately sprung up, who, I am confident, had payed money for his reception (I know to whom) for there was no likelihood his practise or experience in affaires at the Courts of Judicature, could have purchased him the permission to plead. Neverthelesse, he was not so ignorant, but he knew well enough how to increase his Talent, and indeed he was so good a Proctor, that he procured still for himself, however his Clients far'd; My Father was like to succeed well in mean time. This Fellow, to make his profit double, suffer'd himself to be gain'd by the Adverse party, so played his game with both hands, and instead of advancing my Father's businesse, retarded it, maugre all his earnest solicitations, making him believe all the needlesse Demurres he made, were necessary, and not to be avoided. All his discourse was still Monie, Monie, which he affirmed he must have for severall fees, and other charges, though there was no occasion of disbursing any thing: yet my Father refused not to furnish him as oft as he desired, on purpose to induce him to make more Expedition in his Businesse.
On the other side, the Counsellor drew up I know not how many Writings, with two words in a line, that he might get the more: And to swell up the Number, his Clerk used a certain kinde of Cacographie, that admitted a multitude of superfluous letters, you would have judged him a sworn Enemy to those that will have men write as they speak, or fancy Du [...]gardismes, and spell com, hav. &c. without e, and detor, dout without b. Besides, he had such a full Character eech'd out with long Cloak-bag-string dashes, as sometimes a whole Line will scarce containe two Words: But the Words were more to be excepted against than the Letters, for they signified no more than Ciphers, all was but frivolous discourse, that had not the least reference to the businesse in agitation. This Counsellor had this pretty custome among other commendable qualities, that if he had any thing to buy, he would be sure to get by the first Bill or Replication came to his hands to be drawn, as much money as his occasions required; for he did usually calculate before-hand how many sheets would amount to such a summe, which computed, he presently resolved to fill them, though but with old Ballades. My Father reflecting upon these Abuses, one day, as he was paying for some such Writings, could not forbear saying, ‘All he had done and scribled to that instant, availed not him a tittle, that he could have done as much himself, and perchance more, though he was not of the profession; that it was but frivolous and unnecessary babbling, to quote so many Cases in Law, whereas he was certaine the Court never took notice of them.’ This reproach awaked the Lawyers passion, and thinking his Honour highly interessed by this accusation, he returned such unhandsome language, as fomented their dispute, and of a private Complaint began an open Quarrell: But my Father, the lesse to provoke his Counsellor, by imputing all the knaveries of those Gown-men to one particular person, made his Attaque generall, and inveighed against the whole Tribe of Practitioners, from the Pettifogger to the Bencher, with such expressions, as spake them little lesse Monsters than they are: What shame is this (said he among other things) that these Villaines should exercise their Robberies thus publiquely without punishment! They have found out a thousand subtill tricks to cheat men of their Estates, they aggravate slight Trespasses on purpose to foment Contention, and if any difference betwixt Partie and Partie grow to a Law-suit, they are all furnished with such malices and shifts to protract the Cause, and cover their cunning Contrivances, that both Plantiff and Defendant shall returne home with losse, while they insensibly convey the whole Profit into their owne Pockets. Can men be such fooles to be dreyned by these Blood-suckers? Doe they not plainly perceive all these bundles of Bill and Answers are made meerely to deceive them? To what purpose serve all these unnecessarie Procedures, but to render Causes more obscure? Why doe they not proceed to sentence as soone as the Parties have produced their Evidence? But [Page 64]the worst in all these Jurisdictions is, there are so many different formes and manners of proceeding; I would gladly know a reason why they should not in all places use the best and shortest way to decide differences: yet what need of such a question? 'Tis palpable enough their Avarice invented these Demurres meerely to abuse, and more covertly cheat those who understand not their Pettifogging tricks. You are angrie for a slight matter (said the Counsellour) and I dare say you complain without a cause: Is there any thing the Ʋniverse can boast of more admirable, than the manner of canvassing Causes in our Courts? Is it not a mark of the Grandeur of Justice to be attended by such severall Formalities, which like as many secret Springs serve each in their due Order to compleat the Frame, and give motion to that great Machine, which you Clients cannot observe without admiration and much contentment? As for the difference of Procedures in distinct Jurisdictions, it is rather to be commended than condemned; for doe not you know every Countrie must have its severall Custome? I will grant all you say to please you (answered my Father) but I am angrie that after all your triflings, and our patience, Justice is not rendred as it ought; if at length we could have but Right done us, there as no Delaies, no Formalities in your Proceedings, that we should think insupportable.
Hereupon the Counsellor alledged divers things in justification of his honourable profession, yet was constrained at last to acknowledge, much might be said against it; but in conclusion, he gave this Reason, That the Divinity had sent this Scourge among Mortals to punish the enormities of their Crimes. After several like Arguments, he was farther urged by my Father to confesse it was a generall Vulgar Errour, to call the perplexing of a Cause with Tricks, in one word, Practice, without distinguishing of what it is a Practice, as if there were no other kind of Practice, or that this had gained so great a Prerogative over all others, as the onely naming that terme suffic'd to make any capacity comprehend what was meant.
But to return to the Processe, It was referred to the most fantasticall Councellour of the whole pack. And it is remarkable, I know not by what disfavour of the Starres, that sort of people became half fooles by that time they arrive to those grave years, as render other men more respected for their sage Counsels and Deportments: All that ever hitherto frequented the supreme Courts, are stumbled at this observation, and the most probable reason can be given in my opinion, is, that for the most part they are fellowes of low, decrested Souls, descended from Parents of despicable extractions, and to keep their absurd Gravity, they sequester themselves from all good Conversation, passing their time onely in such studies, as render them as much more stupid as they are more vile and sordid than any other persons the whole world affords.
My Father's Reporter, through his constant solitude, was become at length a perfect Misanthropos, no body could boast of having any ascendance over his Spirit; he was so Chymicall, neither party need feare, his compliance or partiality; the onely danger was, lest he should misconstrue, or not comprehend the Cause, for which he was more famous than for any other quality, except an impertinent Confidence, that flattered his vain credulity, no mans apprehension was so quick and solid as his own.
The first time my Father went to see him, at a distance he took him for a Cryer of Funerals, and finding him standing at his dore without any Company or Attendants, he was about to aske him, who was lately dead in that Quarter; But a young Man handsomely clad accosting this ill-looking fellow with a low Reverence, made him correct his thoughts, and consider he might be the Master of the House, and before he made his Addresses, inquiring who that spruce Yonker was, he learn'd 'twas his Worships Clerk, who from a Groom had raised himselfe to that degree, where he omitted not to use his fingers to [Page 65]the best advantage, and curry Clients purses, iustead of his Masters horses.
The Councellor received this visit without discovering any of the odd humors diseas'd his braine, but at the next interview (my Father acquainting him with some particulars concerning his owne businesse) he bid him hold his peade like an ignorant Pratler, that knew not what he said, and send his Attorney who had more experience and Judgement to state his Case.
Not many dayes after, my Father returning to his house, the old Idiot spied his sword, (I know not what foolish fancy fed his feares, but 'twas no lesse criminall for any Gentleman to weare Weapons in his house than Spurres in the Palace) and as if some danger had required his speedy opposition, he presently ran to take downe an old rustie Halberd that hung in his hall, and brandishing it with his trembling hands, stood upon his guard at the top of the stone steps, as if he meant to stop the passage into the house. My Father desiring to know the reason of this Antique Posture, he answered, That seeing him come into his court with Armes, he knew not but his designe might be to take his house by Assault; and therefore he resolved to stand upon his owne defence.
This was onely a laughing matter, but there succeeded other Passages that made my Father curse the houre he ere began his Suit, and at length notwithstanding all his Attorneyes perswasive arguments and advice, he went to visit his Father-in-Law, offering to come to a comprimise, and the better to induce him to consent, I beseech you Sir, said he, let us speedily withdraw from this Gulfe, whereinto we have imprudently cast our selves, otherwise we shall be both swallowed up; for my owne particular, I had rather have to doe in Hell, than at the Hall, rather endure any torture than the perplexities of Law and I believe the greatest torment has been invented for the damned, is to sow dissention among them, and make them receive injuries, for which they shall never obtaine reparation, notwithstanding all the paines and diligence can be used. Be confident when we compute our charges, neither of us shall finde much advantage against his Adversary, nor any thing neerer the accomplishing his designe; The whole Estate we contend for, will become a prey to this execrable Tribe of Villaines, who live onely upon others spoiles, and desire no other occasion of establishing and enriching their owne families, than the Ruine and impoverishing their Clients: Had not We better keep our Money, than sling it away upon fellowes that ne're returne us thanks, but rather thinke us beholding still to them, and for three lines of writing without Sense, reckon us a summe beyond Reason? Let us divide betwixt us, what each coveted to preserve intire for himselfe, or I protest (I am so harast and discouraged by the Malices of these cheating Lawyers) rather than suffer my selfe any longer to be made a Prey to their insatiable Avarice, I will resigne my Interest, and give you peaceable possession of the Whole.
This free proposition arguing a generous Candour in my Father, and promising much advantage to the adverse Party, so won upon his humour, that (though before he would hearken to no Proposalls of reconcilement) he relished these Reasons, and onely demanded some time for more serious deliberation. Meane while happy chance presenting (with some advantages) to my Father's unprepared eyes the Beauty of a Compleat Virgin, Daughter to his Step-Father, by a former Venter (who from her infancy had been bred at Pension in a Religious House) he ne're was satisfied with seeing her, this frequent looking begat an amorous liking, and liking soon grew up to such fervent love, as he presently resolv'd to demand her in Marriage, which desire crown'd with the Father's and her owne consent, made a perfect Pacification, and concluded all differences by this Conjunction, to the sorrow and shame of all their lawyers, who expected no such Issue.
Within one yeare after the solemnity of the Nuptialls, the Nocturnall private toiles were recompenced with a publick joy by the Birth of a pretty Female, and about the Expiration of the like terme, succeeded a second Fruit of [Page 66]the same kinde; But five yeares were elapsed after their Marriage, before I had a Being; my first entrance into this World was remarkable, upon the same day the three Sage Kings followed the direction of the Star: For, my Mother, having been Queen of the Beane that Night, sitting at the Tables end, and drinking to all her Subjects, felt some Throes that forced her to quit the Company, and repose upon a Bed, where she was soon after delivered of me, without any other assistance than the Sage Matrons, Fortune had conducted thither, to divert their duller thoughts, and quicken Time's slow pace with some joviall recreation.
Thus I was borne Dolphin; but when I shall see the Royall Crowne upon my head, is beyond my knowledge; they dranke so many full Carouses to my health, as almost made all the Barrells in our Cellar empty: So, you must not thinke strange if I am a deep Drinker now, for finding my selfe of a competent Age, and Constitution, I am resolv'd now to answer proportionably all those, that challeng'd me then to the Combat of the Cup, and I believe I shall beare away the Palme.
☞
☞ To avoid prolixity, my Mother (as she conceived) being not so well resolved, as to prove a Nurse, delivered me unto a Farmers Wife, of a neighbouring Village to be fostered; nor doe I pretend to passe my verdict, whether or no she did well to suffer me to suck any bodyes milke save her owne, for that in the first place, I am not so unnaturall a Son as to pry into her Actions, for that I'le assure you, it concernes me not at all, since I never sucked from my Nurse any humours which might be displeasing unto Men of Wit and Courage; True it is, that I doe remember I was taught, as other children are, a thousand fopperies invented by the Vulgar, instead of being brought up by degrees even from my youth, in high concernments, and being accustomed to speak nothing, that might favour of lownesse or Basenesse; but since that time (to my comfort be it spoken) I did accustome my selfe to that which was praise-worthy.
And I must needs tell you (by the by) a pretty passage which happened unto me after I was weaned, and thus it was; I so excessively loved Pap, that it became my daily food: Now as the Maide had set the Skillet over the Fire in my Chamber, whilst that I was yet a bed, she was called upon from out the Yard, and she leaving her Skillet on the Hearth, went to know what was the matter; in the meane while a crafty Ape, which one of our neighbours had of late privately kept, coming forth from under a Bed where be lay hid, and having observed (as you may imagine) how formerly the children were used to be fed with Pap; he seized upon the Skillet, and taking the Pap, all bespattered my face therewith; after which, he brought me all my cloaths, and taking me up, he did put them me on after a new Mode, thrusting my Legs into my Coat sleeves, and my Armes into my Stockins, nor can you believe but that I cryed to some tune, the uglinesse of the Animall terrifying me not a little: But the Maid, who was otherwise busied, came never the faster for all that, My Father and Mother being gone to the Church; Finally, the Ape having thus perfected his Comedy, leaped out at the Widow upon the next Tree, and thence gained his Masters house: The Maide returning a while after, and finding me in such a Jack of Lent like posture, wherein the Ape had left me, blessed her selfe a thousand times over and over, skreeking and rouling her eyes too and fro, being much astonished; at length appeasing me with blandishments, she asked me who had thus tricked me up, and by reason I had formerly heard say that the Devill was some ugly thing, I told her that it was a little boy as illfavoured as the Devill, for I took the Ape who had a green Coat on, to be a boy. Nor was I so much mistaken therein, as a Switzer, who meeting with an Ape at a Taverne doore, gave him a sixe pence to change, and perceiving that in stead of the change which he expected, the Ape made mouths at him, he incessantly [Page 67]called on him, saying, speak little Boy, wilt thou not returne me the change of my Moneys? whence it may be the proverb sprang, which saith, making of Mouths, Friskings and Flouts, are the payment of Apes: but this Switzer was not cousened alone, for a Coridon being sent with a basket of Peares to a Lord, at his coming into the house met with two great Apes on the top of the staires, who immediately seizing on his basket, shared best part of the Fruits; now by reason the Apes had fine Coats on of cloath of Gold, and Daggers by their sides, which rendered them very Worshipfull Gentlemen to the Clownes thinking, he having never seen the like before, took off his Hat and made them a formall Leg; the Apes having sufficiently stuffed themselves, the Clown proceeded to make enquiry after the Lord, to whom making his present, the Master of the house asked him why he had not brought the basket full? the Coridon made answer, so it was Sir, but the little Gentlemen, your Sons, took the halfe of the Peares: and the jest was so much the better, for that the Lord was so ugly a Gentleman, as that a Coridon might well have supposed the Apes to have been his Off-spring: and whereby you may take notice, that since aged persons did take such creatures to be children, its no wonder I my selfe did so, being as then but a boy. But to returne to our Maid, who was in downe-right earnest, conceiting with her selfe, that no children were come into our house, nor any strange person whatsoever, she really and firmely believed that some maligne spirits had played me this pranke, and after she had unloosed and well washed me, she did cast above a Pinte of holy Water about the Room.
My Mother being returned from the Church, and finding the Maid thus busied, she demanded of her the cause thereof; and the poore silly wench told all that had past, and the pickle wherein she had found me, as also spending her judgement on the whole, that assuredly it was a Devil that was come into the chamber: Now my Mother, although she was not of S. Thomas his kin, yet she related the story to my Father, who laugh'd at it, and said it was but a meere whimsey, endeavouring to perswade the maid out of her Christian name, and making her believe that there was no such thing as she had related; but one of my Fathers men coming immediately after the maid into the chamber, and having seen me in the said pickle, whereas she question'd me on the premisses, did change the suspition which my Father harboured, that the maid might be deceived by reason of her simplicity.
The knavish Ape came back againe to our house the following night, and having emptied a purse-full of Counters, which he had spread about the table in the Hall, just as if he had been casting up of Accounts, and getting into the Kitchin, he there having flung down severall Platters and Dishes, before day, made his retreat again betwixt the barres of a small window, which had never a shut; and which was his accustomed passage. Now when the maids had discovered the pranks which he had plaid, they told them unto my Father and Mother, who were thereby almost induced to beleive, that a Spirit did indeed haunt our house: And the impression; which our Men-Servants did receive thereof, even perswaded them also to conceive, that they had seen severall Ghosts; and one of them told for certain, how that he rising out of his bed about eleven of the clock at night, to make water out of the window, having forgot to carry up his chamber-pot, had perceived something in the garden which did leap from tree to tree; whereupon my Father swore, that all of them together (since they would needs make him believe that Spirits did reign in and about the house) should by turns watch at some one window, to see whether any thing did appeare, and to bring him word of it immediately.
And being a man that stuck to his resolves, what he had determined was accomplished; and for eight nights together some one of our Servants had [Page 68]alwaies watched, or at least pretended to have done so (for that I believe they easily gave way to, and suffered themselves to be overcome by sleep) when as he that had the watch the ninth night, came and told my Father that he had seen somebody in the garden; whereupon my Father took a Pistol and went as softly as he could, together with his servant, to the supposed place, where he no sooner arrived but he saw a man fly thence towards a part of the Wall, which was broken down; and he running after him, shot off his Pistol in the aire, which so affrighted the party who fled, that together with his stumbling against a stone, he could not any longer support himself, so that my Father overtook him before that he had time to get up againe; and by his voice, which he was constrained to make known, by his begging to be forgiven, our servant discovered that it was a Pesant, who lived in an adjacent Market-town, or Borough, and by his having a Basket, wherein was two or three Bon-Chrettin pears, my Father perceived that he was come thither to steale Fruit: However, his courage was so farre from taking revenge on so contemptible a rascall, as that he satisfied himself with the giving of him three or four sound kicks in the breech, and the menacing of him to deliver him up into the hands of the Justice, in case he returned to commit the like misdemeanour; whereunto he added a very pleasant and plausible act of Clemency; Goe too insatiable Gulliguts, said he, I protest I see its but lost labour to endeavour to hinder thee from stealing of my fruit, for that I cannot keep watch every night, nor will I be at the charges of heightning my Walls. But let us make an agreement, how many Pears willest thou by the yeare, on the condition that you shall no more come and steale them? Wilt thou be content with one hundred? Whereunto this bruite villain made answer, and by my Fay Sir, so I might be looser by the bargaine. Which answer seemed to be lively and naturall unto my Father, that instead of its making him angry, it begat a fit of laughter in him, and caused him to dismisse the fellow, continuing onely his former threats against him, being very well pleased to have found out what a strange kinde of Ghost it was, which our Men had seen galloping on the top of the Trees, but as concerning the Spirit, who had tormented me, and ravag'd the House, he knew not what to deeme of him.
On the morrow my Father entring into the House, where the Ape was kept, he found him fastned with an Iron chaine in the House of Office, and asking a Labourer who had his dwelling there, whose Beast that was? he answered that it belonged unto a friend of his, who had left it in trust with him, adding thereunto, that it was true, the said Ape had played many mad pranks; having the day before been at a Barbers Shop, and returning home, took a dish-clout, and wrapt it about the Cats neck, and having stoln a paire of Sissers, the Ape essayed to trim the Cat, in imitation of what he had seen in the Barbers shop, and cut off all the Cats Whiskers; however I should be glad to be rid of her, for that she plagues me extreamly, and I have been constrained to chaine her up in this manner, because that within two dayes after I had her, she got into your House, and where (I apprehend) she would returne to doe some more mischiefe, in case I should let her loose; whereupon my Father making a strict enquiry of the prefixed day, wherein the Ape (according to the Clownes saying) should have been at our House, discovered that she was the Devill, whereof there had been so much noyse made, of which they stood so much in feare.
Whereby you may observe, that poore spirited fellowes doe usually deceive themselves, and conceive pannyck feares, in the same sort as our people did; and as for your selfe who live neare unto the Villages, you may best judge of it; that there is not so little a Hamblet, where its not rumor'd, that Spirits doe haunt it; and in the meane while, in case the businesse were well enquired into, it would appeare, that the Inhabitants have grounded these their opinions [Page 69]on ordinary accidents, and naturall causes, the reason whereof is hidden from their dull, and grosse beetle-heads; and its a wonder to my selfe, that during my Infancy, I never was subject to be frightned by such bugbears, for ever when our Maids (thinking to correct me for some tricks, which were not pleasing unto them) told me they would cause me to be eaten up by the Beast which came and gave me a visit one Morning, when as I was yet a Bed; I heeded it as much, as if they had just said nothing at all.
I must needs passe by severall pretty waggeries, which I committed during this my Non-age, that so I may ascend a little higher; for when I attained unto the yeares of discretion, I had a Master appointed me, to teach me to write and read, but I stayed not long with him, for I was put to School to the Parson, who soon taught me that little Latine which he had.
And by I know not what secret instinct of Nature, I was incited to hate the unworthy actions, the sottish talk, and the ridiculous wayes of my School-fellowes, who were all of them my Fathers Tenants Sonnes, brought up but rudely according to the Country fashion; I instructed them how they were to behave themselves, but if they followed not my precepts, I then laid on them to some tune, so that we were always at daggers drawing; for these inferiour Soules, being not sensible of the good which I intended them, and not conceiving, that he who loveth well, also chastiseth well, did at every time make opposition, and said unto me in this Gibbridge; How now? because you are a Gentleman, you thinke you may domineere over us, with a thousand such like rusticall impertinencies and fopperies; sometimes they complained to their Parents of my severity, and so exasperated the businesse, that they came and brought my Father to warne me from the beating of their children, who durst not revenge themselves of me, but I did so cunningly plead mine owne cause, that they were constrained to avouch that I had all the reason in the world, to correct those absurdities which they committed.
Oftentimes hearing my Father discourse of Universities, in which there were Colleges to instruct youth, and where all kind of peoples children were admitted of; I passionately desired to go thither, for to enjoy so good company, whereas at home I onely conversed with Countrey Louts, and bruite Coridons: My Father, perceiving that I was naturally inclined to Learning, would not at all divert me from the same, in respect he full well knew, that it was but a very ill Trade for me to follow the Warres as he had done. Now whereas the Colleges of our parts, were not according to his Phantasie, notwithstanding all my Mothers obstacles and moans, he himselfe having some urgent affaires at Paris, took me along with him, and boorded me with the Master of the College at Lysieux, unto whom was recommended by some of his friends, & having given me in charge unto a certain Advocate of his old acquaintance, whom he desired to furnish me with all necessaries; he returned into Britaine, leaving me to the mercy of Pedants, who having dived into my small capacity, they declared me to be fit for the fifth Classis, though it was by favour too.
But marke you what a sad alteration I met withall, and how farre I was to seek, being gotten quite beyond my byas; for I came very short of the enjoyment of those pleasures, which I promised my selfe, and you may imagine that it was very strange unto me, to be absent from my Father, who oftentimes took me along with him unto severall Lordships, which he had in Britain, and where I was alwayes called my young Master; and [Page 70]you may imagine how it angred me, to have lost that sweet liberty which I enjoyed by galloping from place to place in the Countrey, going a Nutting, and plucking of grapes in the Vineyard, without feare of the Farmers; as also in following the Doggs and Hunts-men, for that as now I was more cloystered up by these Fryers, and was forc't to keep houres, to be assisting at the Divine service, at Meales, and at the Lectures, when as the Bell told, by which all our Actions are regulated, and in lieu of my former Master, the Parson, who never gave me so much as an ill word; I had now to doe with a Regent, who had a terrible aspect, and who walked alwayes with a whip in his hand, with which he could as well fence, as any one of his Calling. Nor doe I believe that Dionysius the Tyrant, (who after a strange change of his Fortunes, became Scholemaster, to the end that he might still command) had a more majesticall, haughty and terrible countenance than himselfe.
Now the most difficult taske which I met withall, under this Mans dominion, was that I was never to speak but in Latin, and I could as well have been hanged as not to let slip some words of my Mother-tongue, insomuch that I ever and anon incurred the penalty of receiving a blow with a Ferule; for my part I once resolved to doe as Pythagoras his Scholler did, to keep silence for seven yeares together, in regard as soon as I opened my Mouth, I was accused and reviled with as hainous words, as if I had been the greatest monster in the world; but they might as well have cut out my Tongue, as have debarred me from speaking truth; besides I inclined so much towards the property of my Mothers sexe, as that I would not let my Tongue grow mouldy for want of using of it, insomuch that to let it have its full scope and carriere, I was constrained to make it pronounce the quaintest Latin words, that I could devise, or had learned, unto which I added others in Pedlers French, to patch up my discourse withall.
My Chamber-Pedant was as proud and impertinent an Ape, as possible could be, he caused himself to be called Hortensius, out of a vaine-glory, as if he had been descended from that famous Orator who lived at Rome in Cicero's time, or that he were as elegant as he; I suppose his right name was Master Heurt eur, but that he purposely altered it, to the end people might believe he had something of a Roman in him, and that the Latin was as naturall to him, as his Mother-Tongue: In like manner, divers Authors of this our, Age, have more ridiculously clad their names in a Roman disguise, and have them terminated in an ius, that their books might have a better vent, and that the Vulgar and Ignorant might believe that they were composed by antient writers. Nor shall I need to trouble my selfe to name them farther, you need but to repaire to Pauls Church yard, or to Ducke Lane, where you may know them by their workes.
But notwithstanding that my Master committed the like folly, and that he was endowed with an innumerable quantity of such like mock-vertues: All of us Scholars were not a jot sorry for it, not so much I will promise you as to finde his inexpressable dogged and miserable covetous condition, which made him pocket up the greatest part of our boord Wages, to feed us onely on Poore John, or empty Platters: And as then to my great griefe and regret I did learne, that all the words which doe expresse the disasters and misfortunes of Scholars, doe by a very remarkable fatality, begin with a P. as first of all, touching our Masters themselves, they are Pedants, and Penurious fellowes, we the Scholars are pitifull, poor, painfull, punisht, pennilesse, and such like Epithets, which are so numberlesse, that there would be three maine things wanting to summe them up unto you, a [Page 71]good Dictionary, a great deale of Patience, and a good deale of Leisure.
As for our Breakfast and after-noons Lunchins, we were even at the mercy of a most accursed mercilesse person, who purposely to bereave us of our pittances, took a walk by his Masters command, at the very instant that he should have delivered them unto us, purposely to spare charges, and to make us fast out a bad dinner, when as nothing was set before us, but what my Master had a minde we should eate, nor could we ever crave so much favour at his hands, as to obtaine any Redishes, Sallat, Mustard or Vinegar, lest they might beget in us a comming appetite, or a good stomach to our victualls: Master Hortensius, my learned Tutor, was one of those who loved such like Sentences, as those which were engraven on Apollo's Temple, and therefore he wrote Nequid nimis, over our Kitchin doore, that the world might take notice, that it stood not with his good liking, that a Man should surfeit with the Banquets, and Quickshawes, which were there to be made ready.
Good God! a most pittifull messe in comparison of that which the very Swine-heards of our Village did daily feed on; and for all that, we were termed to be Gluttons, and yet we were constrained to dip our hands in the dish one after the other, by a Mathematicall rule; our Pedant accounted those his darlings, who were satisfied with such a small proportion, as was allotted them, but you may imagine that they were Cockneyes, daintily Pompered up, and who were soon glutted: but as for my selfe, it was otherwise with me, for I was not brought up so delicately, however I had never a whit the better there, although my Master would out-face me, that I did eate more than foure others, when as God knowes, I had but my just allowance; Finally, it was unpossible for me to ingratiate my selfe with him, and at our Meales, he continually harped upon a Lecture of abstinency, which was alwaies meant to me; he alledged Cicero, who saith, That a Man must onely Eate to Live, not Live to Eate: and thereunto he annexed severall Examples of the Sobriety of the Antients; nor did he forget the story of the Captaine who was found a rooting of Turnipps for his repast; moreover, he manifested unto us, how that when the body is over-burdened with humours, the spirits could not exercise their necessary functions, telling us, that we were put to him to study and not to glut our selves with Meat, that therefore we should have a greater respect to the one, than to the other: But if any Physitian had been present, and had sided with us, as having the better cause, he would have confuted our Pedant, and proved, that there is nothing worse for children, than to make them Fast; Besides, doe you not thinke that he had a great deale of reason to preach Abstinency, whilest eight of us were preying upon one poor leg of Mutton, he had a whole Capon to himselfe, so that never was Tantalus more tempted in Hell by those lovely Apples, which he could not obtaine, than we were by those dainty morsells which we durst not touch.
And whensoever any of us chanced to commit an Error, he then enjoyned him a very profitable Pennance as to himselfe, for he put them out of Commons for some certaine dayes, and kept them at Bread and Water, whereby he also kept cleane Sheets, and spared the Money he should have laid out in Rods. Now on Holy dayes, a [...] against Twelfetide, Shrovetide, Bartholmew-Faire and the like, he never treated us a jot better, unlesse we contributed every one of us a Crown extraordinary; nor was he, as then, any loser by the great Feasts which he made us, by reason that having accustomed us to Fast all the yeare long, he then contented us with little or [Page 73]nothing, for some few boyled Poultry, and other small Foule, and a little wasted Cates, stood us instead of Lucullus and Appicius their most sumptuous Banquets, and of which our Pedant never made mention but by his branding of them with the title of Infamous Hogs, and Churls; And by these, and such like meanes, he enriched himselfe, to the great losse and griefe of our poor bellyes, which cryed out vengeance against him; and really there was nothing I apprehended so much, as that the Spiders would make their Cobwebs on my Jawes, by reason of my not stirring of them, and keeping them in their due exercise, at the usuall houres of repast; And its best knowne unto God, what shifts I was forced to make, and how I was very often constrained to conjure for a belly-full.
When the Principall of our Colledge, who was a very brave sparke, was monyed, and gave entertainment to his Friends, we were present at the Feast, and at the serving up of the last course, with the Fruit, we presented severall Epigrams unto the Guests, who in returne of our Verses, gave such a parcell of Tarts, Custards, Fruit, and such like quickshawes, and sometimes also some small fowle, which were not as yet taken from the board, as that we were faine to tip the seams of our Gownes, to stuffe them up therein, just like unto a Wallet.
And the best meales that ever I did eate at the greatest Princes Tables of the world, never were so pleasing and delicious unto me, as those conquests which I purchased by my Poetry; O you most pitiffull Verses, which I have since that time made, which never as yet did produce me any salary, I prized so high as those, which I preferred before an Empire.
Nor was I lesse pleased, when at the solemne Feast of our Lord, the Advocate unto whom my Father had recommended me, sent and invited me to dinner, since that for my sake the good people inlarged their ordinary, with some minc'd Pyes, which I assaulted and fell aboard on, with as much resolution as a couragious and magnanimous King would besiege a Rebellious City: But together with my dinner, my mirth was at a stand; being straightway examined, concerning my progresse in Learning, and in case I gave not a punctuall and ready account thereof, I was threatned that my Father should be made acqainted therewith; It is an unquestionable truth, that let a child be of what disposition soever he will, he will be sure to be more addicted to play than to study, as I my selfe was in those dayes; however (though I say it my selfe) I must needs tell you, that I was one of the learnedst of all our Classis, whereby I lost nothing neither, for the Advocate, perceiving my ingenuity, he alwayes gave me some few shillings, which he put upon the account of my Fathers Law-suits, and with this money, in stead of playing at Tennis, I bought certaine bookes, which they call Romances, containing the prowesse of the Knights of old, and not long after one of my companions lent me one to read called Morgant the Giant, which absolutely bewitched me, having never before read any thing but Ciceroe's familiar Epistles, and Terences Comedies; at length I was wisht to a Book binder upon the Pontneuf, who did sell such like fabulous Histories, and thither I carryed my whole stock of moneys, but my Trade I'le assure you, was a speciall one, for I had such longing desire to possesse that which I had a minde to buy, as that I never stood to bargaine with the Book-seller, but ever gave him his owne price, for feare I should misse of my purchase, so greedy was I after my prey, and he full well knew whom he had to deale withall. I protest unto you Sir, that at this time I desire to be as ignorant as I was then at that time, in regard I should enjoy a great deale [Page 73]of pleasure, in perusing such like trifling stories, whereas at present I am constrained to make-another guesse divertisement, for that I cannot light upon any one Author that pleaseth me, unlesse I could passe by his extravagance; for to tell you the truth, though I knew where all Books are to be found, yet know I not where to finde a good one; nay, I will hereafter prove unto you, that there is not one good book in all the world, when as I shall treat of this paradoxe, and evidence unto you, how that in all of them, there are very great defects which ought to be amended, however take notice that I respect such books, as our Religion doth honour and allow of.
My greatest pastime as then was to read the feats of Chivaldry, and I must needs confesse that it edged on my courage and begot in me an unexpressible longing to goe and seek adventures abroad in the world, for I conceited it would be as easie for me to cut a man in sunder, as an Apple in two, and it pleased me beyond imagination, when as I reade of a huge slaughter among the Gyants, who carbonaded one another as small as minced meat, and the blood, which flowed from their bodies in rivulets, and violent streams, seemed to me to be a River of Rosewater, in the which, I bathed my selfe most deliciously, and at other times I imagined that I was the same Damosel, who kissed the Infanta Gorgeose, who had green eyes like unto a Faulcon; you must give me leave to speak to you in quaint termes, when I mention these true Chronicles. To come home to you, I entertained no other thoughts, save of encounters, enchanted Castles, delicate Bowers, delights to Lasses, and love-Sports, and reflecting on them as pure fictions; I said those were too blame, who censured the reading of them; and that it was a great deale of pitty, in this Age, people did not lead a life conformable to the descriptions of my Book, and consequently I began to blame the sordid undertakings wherein Men doe busie themselves at present, and the which I doe even at present hate from my very Soule.
Thus I became an Arch wagge, and a very Rake-hell, nor retained I any thing of our Countrey breeding, not so much as the very accent of our speech, for that I boorded with Normands, Picards, Gascons, and rich Parisians, of whom I learned new customes; and I had already gained the reputation of being a Pestilent-fellow, from that in the night time, I haunted the Court yards with a Bulls peezle in my breeches, to belabour those who (with reverence be it spoken) went to the houses of Easement; my Cap was flat, my Doublet was Buttenlesse, fastned with Pins or Points; my Gown was all betattared and patcht, the Collar of my Doublet was black, and my Shooes were white; finally I was in the right garbe and Equipage of a reverend Scholar, and he who would perswade me to neatnesse, was my profest Enemy; And when as formerly the sole angry accent of my Masters voice did make me shake like an Aspin Tree, blowne with the winde, as then a Canon shot sturred me no more than a Crack backwards, I feared no more the lash than a Flea-biting, as if my skin had been of Steele, and my daily occupations consisted in a thousand waggeries, as in flinging Squibs, Crakkers, Dirt, and sometimes stinking Surreverences, on the heads of the passengers, as they came under the Colledge windowes in the Streets; one time above the rest, I did let downe out of the Window, a Basket tyed to a string for a pastry Man, unto whom I had throwne down sixe pence, to put me some Cakes in it, and as I drew it up againe, my Master, who contrary to my knowledge was in the room just below me, drew in the Basket as it passed by his Window, and never quitted it untill he had quite emptyed it; my selfe running downe the staires to discover, who had [Page 74]served me this sly trick, I met with the Pedant, standing at the threshold of the house doore, and perceiving that it was he, I durst not so much as open my mouth to him, though I grinned most hideously on him, being vexed to some tune, when as at the same instant, he commanded me to goe and invite another Master, his neighbour, to come and take an after-noons collation with him; well, away I went with a heavy heart, and brought his guest into the very chamber, where I saw no other Cakes on the Table, but my owne Cakes, and of which he never proffered me so much as the least crum, so base a Cluster-fist was he: behold I pray how well he could practice the Lawes of pilfering, by sherking on his Disciples, to feast his friends; but though I said little or nothing, yet I thought with my selfe I will be even with you good Master Pinch-penny I'le warrant you, though I should hang for it, for e're long I shall shew you a trick of my skill.
Now an occasion to be revenged of my Master proffered it selfe shortly after, as well as I could have wished it, for that the Father of one of our companions had sent our Master a Hare Pye for a present, commending it highly; the very first time that he tasted of it, was at our Table, for that he delighted it seemed, to eate that which was good, and rare before us, purposely to set our teeth on water, yet he did not so much as present the least part there of to his Son, who had sent it him; I heard him give command, that it should be carryed back againe into his Study, for that he valued it as much as his Books, loving the nourishment of his Body, better than that of his Minde: the place wherein it was lockt up, was onely inclosed with boords, and joynted and lined on both sides with old rotten Mats, the which I ripped asunder at his being absent; and whereas I as then was very slender, a Gascon, who was one of my lustyest comrades, lifting up a thwart beame by maine strength, I at length slipt into the famous Study, as sacred to Bacchus and Ceres, as to the Muses, where prying into all holes and corners, peeping under the Shelves, and tossing all the Books topsie turvy, truly I could find nothing at all, and relenting my misfortune to my companion, who with a great deale of impatiency expected me without; I had well nigh past both my leggs under the beame to come out againe backwards, when as stooping my body very low, to croude my selfe through, I perceived a great chest, wherein the year before there had been a Garden made, and it came into minde by the inspiration of some little Devill (as I thinke) that the Pye might happily be there, whither returning, I found it to be even so, the crust thereof was very hard, and very ill savoured, and extreamely scanty of Butter, wherefore I concluding with my selfe, that it would be an umannerly part to carry away all; I leaft the Coffin and onely took the Carcasse, in lieu whereof, I put therein a paire of dirty Socks, which were thrust into a hole thereby, and having covered the Case againe, I packed up my Venison in a brown paper, gave it to my comrade, and pursued it and him, as fast as if I had been a hunting indeed, for that I longed to get out of the Study againe with a whole skin: Nor need I sweare that it remained not long in our clutches, nor were we much troubled to resolve where to hoord it up safe, for we put it all up into our Natural chests before night, and we must of necessity have had a window in our breasts, as Momus desired to have, in case any one would have endeavoured to discover our theft.
Hortensius our Pedant never thought of his Pye till the next day, when as it coming into his mind, he commanded his Pastry-Man to go & invite another old Pedant to breakfast with him, who was an old Fellow-Toper of his, and to tell him that he would let him taste of a noble Hare Pye, in case he would [Page 75]bring a quart of his best new Wine with him, for to allay the drought which the eating of the Spices would beget in their throats. The old Pedant failed not to come at the houre appointed, with as much Wine as Hortensius had sent for, and as soon as he was entred the Chamber, the Pastry-Man went to reach the Pye out of the Case, and set it upon the Table, where it was no sooner placed, but the dotard Pedant tooke up a Knife, and running his Knife into the same hole where the crum had formerly been cut up, which he thought had been whole, he rummaged with his Knife round about the Pye, holding his other hand fast upon the crust, and said, goe too, goe too, let us see what the belly of this Pye doth containe, whereunto he added, Good Master Hortensius, Lord what an admirable knife have you here, verily it cuts as it were of it selfe, for I'le assure you, I doe not put any force at all to it; Hortensiu [...] burst out with laughter, to see the Dotard was such an Idiot, as to put his Knife in the same hole where the Pye was cut up before, whereat the old Pedant slinging off the lid of the Pye, asked what reason he had to laugh at him? and his eyes being not capable to discerne what was in the Pye, he drew forth his Spectacles, and putting them on, finding the foule Socks in stead of the Hare, he supposed that Hortensius had purposely put this trick upon him, and upon that score did flout and jeere him, which affront the old foole being not willing to brook, he snatch'd up his quart of Wine, and clapping it under his Gown, marched away in a great fury. Hortensius, who was worse transported than he, let him depart without making any excuse unto him, and did not know whom to suspect for stealing his Hare. As to his Pastry-Mat [...], by whom he sent it to his Study, his fidelity was so well knowne unto him, as it was unquestionable, for this good Servant was a second selfe to him, he was his Achates, his Pirithous and his Pylades, whose goodnesse was so great, that it repaired the inequality which was betwixt their conditions; he had the keeping and disposall of the Moneyes, and yet shod not his Mule at all: And as for my part, the greatest crime I believe he was guilty of, was, that he somewhat courtailed our Commons, and for this reason we gave him that nick-name of being Hortensius his Sissors; but it was hardly credible that he would be so ignoble as to imploy himselfe in the clipping of his Masters Coyne, wherewith he had so ingenuously intrusted him: But it was more likely that some of us Scholars had done the fact, and the Pedant likewise was of the same opinion, knowing full well that there were some cunning Shavers amongst us, who were well verst in the Art of picking Locks; however not suspecting any one in particular, as to the fact committed, he would willingly (had he durst, so farre his passion transported him) have caused our bodies to be opened to know the truth of the businesse, as Tamberlain did to the Soldier, who had stolne Milke from a poor Countrey Woman. Finally he resolved to punish us all, that so he might not faile to punish the guilty, which, by his leave, was a grosse piece of injustice; but what a piece of injustice did he impose on us, even the same which I formerly mentioned unto you, and the which might conduce the more to his disadvantage and profit; for he purposely dined before we left School: and afterwards lockt himselfe up in his Study, and when we were come from Morning prayer, our Pastry-Man was not to be found, so that we wanted our halfe penny Cakes, after which we ran with more earnestnesse than we did out of Schoole, when we had got leave to play; and believe me at the very time of the Bakers bringing these Cakes home, we were seized with a fit of joy, although these Colledge-Cakes were as hollow-hearted as the Pedants our Masters, for [Page 76]instead of Crum, they were filled with nothing but winde; for you imagine we were devilish hungry by dinner time, and yet we were set downe to a Table, which was covered with nothing but a Cloth, as white as a Scullion-boyes shirt, and as for Napkins, the use of them was forbidden us, because we wiping our fingers on them, dawb'd them with such grease, as serves to feed such slovens as lick them: But we hungry Soules as we were, having demanded our Dinner, the Pastry-man brought up the Pye covered, and told us, It is my Masters will that we all share of this; A famisht Norman took off the lid, and finding nought therein save the foule Socks, fell into such a passion against the Pastry-man, who sufficiently jeered us, that he flung all the Crust of the Pye at his slouching Chops, and afterwards took sanctuary in one of his friends Chambers, where he remained a whole day, for feare of Hortensius: The Gascon and my selfe, laughed in our sleeves, and had much adoe to containe our selves, though our bellies were as badly furnished as the rest, and all of us being destitute of a dinner, which we could not obtaine from our Master, we joyned our stocks and sent for something from the Cooks, and thus the innocent suffered for the criminall, and our Pedant never knew it was I that stole his Hare.
Much about that time I was in the third forme, where I had not given any thing for the Masters present or yearely gift, nor for Candles, although it drew nigh unto the time of breaking up School, and the reason was, my Father had forgotten to send it me with the rest of my allowance, whereupon our Regent being very much displeased, exercised all the rigors he could against me, such as were not imposed on any other Scholars, and when he could handsomely, he took an occasion to revile and affront me upon that score, and was very well pleased when my comrades called me Glisco, alluding to a rule in the Dispauterius Grammer, where there is Glisco nihil dabit, whereby they meant I would give him nothing, and by reason the Son of a rich Treasurer had payed the Master in faire Quadruples, he was called Nic dator, by another rule of the said Rudiments, and thus by this mingling of French and Latine together, their drift was to make me sensible, that he had given our Regent good Gold, and here you must hold me excused, if I cloy you with College Apothegms which I could not tell how to avoid, since they lay so pat in my way.
And to the end, I might adde a greater torment to my Pedants spight, finding that he made use of all occasions whatsoever, to cloak those chastisements, which he was resolved to inflict on me, I fell hard to my studyes, and quite abstained from all kinde of waggish knaveries, insomuch that my Master was ready to run wilde, and to lay some supposed crime to my charge, so strangely was this ignoble and base Soule transported, when as his exorbitant avarice was not satiated, and by his basenesse and wiles I had like to have suffered Shipwrack, had not my Money come in time; which I resolved to present unto him, in the same manner as the Pedants had introduced it to satisfie their ever-gaping purse, by presenting him a curious Cristall glasse, full of comfits, with a Lemmon in it, in the ryne whereof I had not stuck my Gold, as it was the usuall custome, but had thrust it into the Lemmon it selfe through the hole which I had made therein; And presenting the same unto him, with a Counterfeited melancholy visage, I told him, Sir, you know that I am farre from home, and the Messenger hath not as yet brought me that which is requisite for your yearly Present, in the meane while I doe present you with this from my selfe, as an earnest of ten Crowns in Gold, which you shall receive within these fourteen dayes.
[Page 77]This faire Promise did even pierce through the hard rock which environ'd his heart, and obstructed his being moved with the respectfull amity wherewith I accosted him; He accepted the Glasse, and thanking me with a smiling countenance, poured the sweet Meats into my Cap, and gave the Citron to a favourite of his, not knowing that it was as pretious as any Apple in the Hesperides Garden, and that I might have the more pleasure, I let him alone, but when I saw that the Lessons were all given, and that the least boy was ready to goe forth of the School; I went to the favourite, and sked him if he would change his Citron for my sweet-meats, which he agreed unto, loving the sweet-meats better than the sower Lemmon, and at the same time we returned towards our Domine, whom I pulled by his long fleeve, as he was correcting a Theam, and asked him smiling, if he would see my Citron; at which words, I opened it in the middle, and shewed him the Gold between the clouds, telling him, that he should not stay so long as I told him for his Gold; no, said he, as he took the Gold, this is then for me, I will give you the Citron againe; and praising me not a little for my subtilty and wit, he blamed me for hazarding the losse of my Gold; whilst he was talking there, the Scholars applauded the jest with their Books, which they clapt against the Formes, as is usuall on such like occasions, and with eagernesse had like to have broken their Satchellstrings, Benches and all.
After which, that shye and untractable Animal, being now fully tamed, and appeased, used me with as much civility, as he did the others; but it was not my Fortune to enjoy these his Caresses long, because my Father sent Letters for me to goe into the Countrey, to assist at the wedding of two of my Sisters which were to be marryed in one day, the one to a brave gallant Gentleman, and the other to a Councellor of the Parliament of Britany, so thither I went along with the Messenger, nor was I ever gladder in my life, for all my businesse then was, to make good chear and be merry; Neverthelesse the great desire, I had to learne the Arts and Sciences caused me to beg leave of my Father to returne against the Feast of Saint Ramy, when the Lectures doe againe commence, at which time I was about thirteen yeares of age, and was exalted to the second Classe: and so consecutively in the ensuing yeares, I was preferred to the rest, and thus finally I past the whole course of my Studies; But I shall not trouble you any more with the severall passages incident thereunto, and which befell me during the said time, for I feare, it would but offend your eares, and I have almost tyred my selfe with relating such fopperies, since I may give you a more pleasant entertainment, ‘Good Lord Sir, said the Burgundian gentleman, do you thus cruelly deprive me of the recitall of your most pleasing adventures? doe you not know that these Actions of our youth, are extreame pleasing, and that we delight our selves in hearing the adventures even of beggars and base fellowes; as of Gusman de Alfaracha and of Lazarillo de Tormes; And how then should I not reap a great deale of satisfaction to have the adventures of a Gentleman and a Scholar, who thereby giveth an evidence of the subtilty of his wit, and of his great cunning even during his youth? I but Sir, said Francion, give me leave to tell you, that you will reape a farre greater satisfaction, when I shall tell you what befell me, in a riper age, for these are more serious passages, and wherein you will find a far greater contentment.’ Whereto the Burgundian answered, assuredly I can expresse nothing but wonders at the rehearsall of your Courtiers life, for I [Page 78]have already heard some incredible passages thereof, by certain persons who came from the Court. Wherefore I could wish that you had already attained to the relation of it, and that you had run through all your several Classes, although you should have been whipt above ten times at each of them, lesse I would not willingly have you skip over any, or anticipate time. Whereunto Francion made answer, ‘Sir, you doe very graciously represent unto your selfe, things as if they were present, and truly I am not a little obliged unto you for your favour, in desiring I should be often whipped; where thinke you shall I meet with a breech that may be able to resist so many assaults? and if you be in earnest, you shall doe well to have an Armour of proof forged for my Bum, which you must have painted over in flesh colours, or else be pleased to lend me that skin of yours; Take you no care of that said the Burgundian, we will provide for all.’
And in this manner they entertained themselves, with these and such harmelesse Discourses, which must not of necessity be forgotten, although they are not of so high a strain as many others, for without them our History would not be compleate. Our drift herein is, to behold an Image of the life of Man, so that it must be performed by severall representations. The History of Francion's Father, it is true, doth demonstrate a Country Gentlemans life, who in his Youth hath seen something of the Warres, and who as yet hath a Martiall heart, which despiseth all other conditions or qualities of Men: the sordid avarice of some Lawyers, which is there very aptly described, as well as all the rest of their Knaveries and dogged dispositions: After which the sottishnesse of some persons, next the impertinency of some Pedants and School-Masters, and lastly the waggishnesse of Scholars; which is the field wherein Francien intends to expatiate his fancy in the sequel of this History, describing also the vanities and errors of such persons, who thinke themselves to be wiser, richer, and better borne, than really they are, as Master Hortensius did, and by the demonstration of his rendring himselfe ridiculous to all the world, by whom he was jeered and flouted, others may be warned as by a faire lesson which is laid before them. Francion took a great deale of delight in telling of these Stories, because he retained in his Brest the sentiments of very good nature, which made him love all the Extravagances of other Men.
Neverthelesse his discourse was not so attentive, but that now and then he did cast an eye upon the things he did behold round about him, and just as he had terminated the last Discourse aforementioned, he could no longer forbeare, but would totally satisfie his curiosity; and drawing open the Curtaines of his Bed, he put out his head to cast his eyes towards the farthest end of the Chamber: whereat the Lord of the Castle asked him, what is it you looke after Sir? I was seeing, said Francion, whether I could spye any one of your Servants, for I would desire them to reach that lively Picture, which is fastned to the Tapstry hangings, being it is unpossible for me to discerne from hence, what it doth represent; I will goe and fetch it you, said the Lord, and rising up from his place, he took down the Picture, which was made in the forme of an Ovall, and not much bigger than a Sundyall, to carry in ones Pockets, and delivering it into Francion's own hands, he said unto the Lord, that he was sorry he had mentioned it, because it had caused him so much trouble; After which looking upon the Picture, and beholding the perfectest and most lovely choice beauty in the world pourtraited therein, he cryed out, ‘Good Lord Sir, doe you use to place such bewitching charmes in your guests Chamber, purposely to make them [Page 79]dye insensibly, that so you may have these spoyles, Oh! you have killed me in the very shewing of me this Picture: All the world is not so sensible as you are, said the Lord, and if so be I were so, I had been dead long since, for that I have oftentimes contemplated the features & allurements of that face;’ When as Francion beholding the lid of the Picture, for that it did lock, like unto a Box, he found Naiis to be written therein, what signifieth that said he? it is the faire ones name, said the Lord, and she is an Italian Lady, as you may see by her dressing; an Italian Gentleman, by Name Dorini, who passed this way not long since, did lend it me for eight days only, to the end that I might consider it at full, and I had placed it in his Chamber, which is the privatest of all my Castles, and which I reserve as the Cabinet for my pleasures, Is this incomparable Lady still alive, said Francion? I doe not know answered the Lord, none save Dorini can resolve us that question; Lord that you should be so negligent as not to have informed your selfe thereof, said Francion; it seems that you are of a gallant free disposition, who account all things indifferent; It is very true said the Lord, and I protest unto you, that being with, Hellene, whom you went to see yesterday, and who is but an ordinary beauty, I took as much delight in her company as I could have done, in the enjoyment of the incomparable Naiis, do but shut your eyes Sir, when as you are forced to kiss an object which hath no attractiveness at all, & yet Sir, your sences will nevertheless be tickled with the pleasure of the most perfectest love, and thereby you shall quench the ardent desires, which you harboured to joyne your selfe unto a body, in which your eyes doe finde those subjects beget an extreame passion in you.
After which, Francion, having most attentively beheld the Picture, did fasten it with a pin at his Beds head, and afterwards continued his discourse, as you see in the following Bokes, &c.
THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE COMICAL HISTORY OF FRANCION.
TO morrow (said Francion) by the light of the Day I will look at leisure on this picture, but for the present it is requisite that I acquit my self of that which I owe you, and instead of my Courtly, that I give you now an account of my Scholastical adventures. Suppose then you see Francion enter into the School, his lynings hanging out of his Breeches down unto his shoes, his Gown wrapped about him, his Book under his arm, undertaking to give a Fillip to one, and a Bob unto an other. I kept privatly alwayes about me some fine History which I did read, and did set my other Books before me, for fear my Master should perceive me: My courage at that time much increasing, I sighed within my self that I had not yet performed any exploit of War, when I was at that age wherein the Knights Errant had defeated an infinite number of their Enemies, and I know not how to expresse unto you the grief I entertained to see that my Power did not answer to my Will.
Marvell not that I had rather read, than listen to my Regent, for he was the greatest Asse that ever mounted into a chair. He did teach us nothing but fopperies, and caused us to imploy our time in studies altogether unprofitable, commanding us to learn a thousand of the most pedantical tromperies in the world. We disputed very stiftly for places, and demanded questions of one another, but what questions think you? What is the Etymology of Luna? To which you must answer, That it is so called quasi luce lucens aliena, as if in French we should call a Shirt a Flesh-bagg, because it is a bagg we do put upon our flesh. Is not this excellent doctrine wherewith to season a young spirit? Neverthelesse we did passe away our time in such ridiculous vanities, and he who did answer best unto them, was in the reputation and quality of an Emperor. Sometimes this foolish Pedant would give us Verses to make, and would allow that we should take them word for word out of Virgil, the better to imitate him, and that, to perfect us in some other Exercises, we should make use of the stale Books of Parnassus and Textor. If he gave us Prose to make, we were to assist our selves with Books of the same strain, from whence we took all manner of pieces to make a gallimoffry after the pedantick fashion; And was not this a most usefull method, and proper to instruct our understandings, and inform our judgements? What a shame it is to see, that even in our Universities they are but a little better than Barbarians who reside there for the [Page 2]education of Youth? ought they not in a good hour to consider that they should rather instruct Children to invent something of themselves, and not send them to Common-places and Collections, the continual poring whereon doth serve but to dull and rebate their apprehensions; for it is known, that in their Collections there is seldome to be found purity of language or good Apothegmes, or Sentences, or Histories well cited, or Similitudes well reported. Good God, how much are Fathers deceived, thinking they have sent their Sons to Men filled with good and profitable knowledge! These School-masters are a Generation who come almost from the Plough to the Chair, and are for a while Ushers, during which time they steal some vacant hours which they owe to the service of their Masters, to be peripatetical Students: As long as their Lenten Dinner is on the fire they consult a little with their Books, and at last they proceed to be Masters of Art. They only read Commentaries, and the Scholiasts of Authors, the better to descant and to make their annotations on them. For the rest, they know not what is civility, and a Child ought to have a good and a noble Nature, who under their charge is not corrupted by them, for they will let them alone in all manner of vicious habits without reproving them.
Our Regent, amongst others of his good qualities, was indefatigable importunate to have us act some plays in French, accordingly as he had made them, for he had much of a Poet in him. He had many Scholars that were to be Actors, and the desire which transported me to see my self a Prince once in my life, did cause me to act a part in his Play, for it was a Tragedy, and there were to be none in the Scene but Monarchs and Grand Signiors, and so great was my ambition, that I would be also the God Apollo, who was to speak in Latin in the Chorus. There was never any thing so ill ordered as was our Stage. To represent a Fountain they had taken the Cock out of the Kitchin, without covering it either with Boughs or Buckrom, and they had tyed up the Tops of the Trees to the Skye, blushing for shame amongst the Clouds. Our Habits were very ill sorted, for a Sacrificer of the Temple of the Pagans was cloathed in the Alb of a Priest, and had on his head the Cope in which they said Masse in our Chappel. For the rest, the Disposure of the Acts were so admirable, and the Verse so well composed, the Subject so high, and the carriage of it so excellent, that two months since having found some fragments of the Verses amonst my old Papers, I thought I should have disgorged all within me, so sick they made me at the heart: Good God, said I, Is is possible that Franchion should ever pronounce such foolish words as these, and incontinently did throw into the Fire all those horrible pieces. But when I Acted my part, there was nothing in the whole Play which seemed not to me to be extremely good, and when I would make other Verses I did strive to imitate those of my Masters, Nay, I was so blind, that although I found the greatest part of them in printed Comedies in the plays of Pathelin, and the Romance of the Rose, and perceived how wretchedly he had patched them together, yet I grudged nothing at the glory which I had given to him. I cannot but here represent unto you one of the most ridiculous impertinences which he committed in that piece, to shew unto you as well the absurdity of the plot as of his words. Jupiter complained that his head did ake, and said that he would lye down on the bed, desiring that some lenitive remedies might be applyed to it; this had been good indeed, if at the same time the Author had feigned that his head had been big with Minerva.
In another part of the Plot there was a great slander contrived, that in the Tragedy I had been killed by mine Enemy, wherefore I was to act the part of a Fury who came to torment the Murtherer. When I was on the Stage with him whom I pursued, there was a third Actor, who also being to change his habit knew not where to leave those habiliments which he had on before, [Page 3]But because he was one who was familiar with the Regent, he covered his bare head with his Turband, and pulling off his coat he did throw it on his shoulders, although the Regent had another on before, the weather being then very cold. At the same time he whom I pursued in a wild posture, having a burning Torch in my hand, being as it were surprized with horror to behold me, did begin to be out of his part, and to stammer in his complaints, and repeated one verse six times over, being unable to call into his memory that which was to follow, and conceiving that I did remember it better than himself, because I had often heard him to repeat it, he said unto me, What is that which is to follow? Prompt me Francion: But without minding what he required, I looked up and down, on one side, and on the other. Our Regent being extremely angry to behold that sottishnesse, did come forth with his Book in his hand, without any reguard to the double habit he had on, and striking him with his fist, said unto him, Get thee gone thou Blockhead, I shall gain nothing but dishonour by thee, leave off thy acting; wherupon he took the paper, and immediatly withdrew himself behind the Arras, thinking it was the pleasure of the Regent. I seeing my Master accoutred in the same manner, (for our habits coming from a Mask that was danced before the King, were almost all the same) did believe that he came in his place to act that part which he could not perform, I took him therefore by the sleeve as he himself had taught me, and causing him to turn, and run from one side to another, I so whiffled him on the face with my Torch, that I burned off allmost all his beard. My Companion who had failed in his part, observing my Master not to recite those verses in which he failed, did believe that he had forgot them as well as himself, and did prompt him so loud that one might easily have heard him to the lower end of the Hall, and thinking with himself that undoubtedly he was struck deaf, he came forth upon the Stage, and spake them aloud in his ear. This confirmed me the more in my opinion that our Pedant would act the part of the man that killed me, and being more strong than himself, I did so torment him, that at the last he was constrained to fall down on the ground. I protest unto you that the Pitch and Rozin which I burned did in such a manner afflict his head, that what with it, and the thrusts and punches that I gave him, he did fall into a swound, and his spirits were so lost, that he could not distinctly bid me let him alone. I will not dissemble but that there was much malice on my side, and that expresly I did it, to revenge my self of the cruelty which he had exercised on me; For if my Companion had continued to act his part, I would not have been so mischievous unto him: but I assure you, never in any Mummery was there more contentment taken than at our play, where the successe did arrive so pleasingly. I had the glory given me, for having played my part the best of all the Actors, who were some of them of the rudest sort of the people of Paris, and according to the instructions of our Regent (who had in him no more humanity than a Hoggard) had every one of them a fair Handkerchief in his hand for want of a more gracefull posture, and did pronounce their verses as if they were singing them, and oftentimes with a far shriller, and a more disagreeing tone than any of the rest. To doe well I did quite contrary to that which my Master taught me, and when I was to salute any one, my reverence was after the manner of the Court, and not according to the mode of the Children of the Holy Ghost, whom he constrained us to imitate; And for other things I used no other gestures, nor made any traverses on the Stage, but only at such time as reason did direct me: but I had leasure to repent that I had so well personated the Fury; for my Regent observing that all the College, and many personages of Honour in the City did laugh at him, did take on me an exemplary revenge, and for the first fault which I afterwards committed he with his Rods did so pink my [Page 4]breech, that a barber Chirurgion doth not mangle more the back of a sick person to whom he doth apply his Cupping-glasses.
At that time I lived with Hortensius as I was before accustomed, yet he did intreat us more severely than in the years precedent, and the Winter being extremely cold, finding that he would allow us no fire, we were constrained to burn the boards of our Studies, the straw of our Beds, and afterwards our Theam-books, to procure us a little heat. One day he was pleased to take the pains to visit my Library, and finding there many sabulous Histories in the French tongue, he carried them all away with him, alleging, that they corrupted my good Inclinations, and did pervert my spirit; for it must be as he said. Amongst those Books he found some so amorous, that they served much to inflame his heart with the love of the Daughter of the Advocate who payed my Pension. Take notice by the way, that Love triumphs as much over the square Cap of the Pedant, as over the Crowns of Kings. And that which did the more invite him to follow the Command of that little God, was, that he did see his power to be reverenced and esteemed almost amongst all the Books of the Philosophers. Being overcome by so agreeable a Temptation, he began to seek out all means to please his Lady, and did apparel and dresse himself more richly and more curiously than before he was accustomed to doe; for whereas before he changed his linnen but once a month, he now changed it every fortnight. Every morning he turned up his Mustachioes with the handle of a hot spoon, and the Botcher our Porter was imployed to make two dayes to put n [...]w sleeves to his old Cassock, and to mend it every where, were it never so much torn in pieces. He never before did behold his own face but in a bucket of water, but now he became so prodigal as to buy a very large Looking-glasse, in which he ceased not to observe if he made his Reverences with a good grace, and with what a plausible carriage his other ordinary Actions were attended: and sometimes he did put himself to too much trouble, for he had a desire to see in how good a posture he did read, and having cast his eyes down on Tully which he had in his hands, he would lift them up to look on his glasse; but he could not thus content his Desire, because he found the Image which was there represented, did lift up its head as well as himself, and at that instant did not look down upon the Book, insomuch that at the same time he would have been very willing to turn his eyes into two places at once. And although he was carefull enough of his Body, yet he purposed to gain the good will of his Mistresse not by that meanes only; the qualities of his Mind, which seemed to him to be far more eminent, were those forces in which he most confided. Every day he turned over the leaves of the Books of Love which he had taken from me, and from thence collected those Discourses, which in his judgement seemed best to fill his mouth, and to rectifie his understanding. Amongst those Volumes, there was one full of Metaphors, and barbarous Antitheses, and of such extraordinary Figures, that no Name is to be given to them; it was a gallamoffry so continued and confused, that the most apprehensive spirit in the world must be obliged to demand, What is it? if he had a desire to understand it: Neverthelesse he called this Author, the French Cicero, and formed all his stile according unto his, unlesse that from some other of his time he took certain Phrases, which to him seemed admirable, because they were not common, although there were so many faults in them, that a Costard-monger who sells Fruit in the corner of a street, would have discovered them, and reproved him, and his goodly Authors with him. I come now to account unto you the Discourse which he held with his Mistress, following therein those Books which he had read. One day going to visit her Father, and finding her alone, Madamoisell (said he) I gain in losing, and I lose in gaining, that at this time losing the company of Monsieur your Father, I gain yours, which yet makes me to be a loser in another sense, for I do lose my liberty in hearing your Discourse: [Page 5]The incomparable charms of your incomparable perfections, which none can magnifie enough, do so assail me, and hold me captive under their feet, that he is deprived of Reason who believeth he is able to defend himself against them; wherefore this shall alwayes be the Cause for which I will make bold to stile my self your incomparable Servant. Fremond (for so the Damosel was called) had something to do to return an answer to so extravagant a Salutation. In a short time she perceived the solly of the Person which before she never saw so manifestly discovered. She could make her marker well enough, and the young Sparks of the College who were my Companions told me, they found by her deportment and complexion that she loved the trade, and certainly they were not much mistaken; for in the fourth year of her age, being deprived of her Mother, her jovial and frolick humor did afterwards transport her into an excesse of love towards young Men who did court her in the view of her Father himself, who took it not much to heart, because he was but a poor man, and hoped that she might inveigle and circumvent some rich Servant, who might happily espouse her. I remember very well, that when I was but a very boy, counterseiting to take something out of my pocket, she came unto me, and putting her hand therein, she did tickle me thereabouts all over; O how often, thinking of it, have I said to my self, Would I had now that favour which then I received, or had then that losty strength which now I have, I had tickled then that wanton in that place where it itched, and it is likely enough she would have been well contented with it; for it is to be believed, that at that time she had no experience of the pleasures of Love, but only by Imagination.
One day I addressed my self unto her when she was courted by a young Advocate, who, after some discourse, demanded of me, If an Antient did not affirm, that the worst of wild beasts is a Detractor, and of those beasts who are domestick, a Flatterer? I made answer, Yes, and that I had read it in Plutarch; but we ought now to correct that Apothegm, and maintain, that the worst of domestick beasts is a Pedant. The young Advocate having praised my Intention, told me, That I had a most just reason so to speak, and that he had been exposed as well as my self to the fury of those mercilesse Creatures. He afterwards demanded of me, if I knew the Definition of a Pedant? Yes Sir, said I, He is a Creature not to be made clean. You have just reason so to speak, said he; And I have heard, that the Rector of the University, with the Proctors, and other Deputies, going on Candlemas Eve, according to their Custom, to present a Wax-candle to the King since deceased, one came and said, Sir, Behold your Daughter the University, who is come to doe Reyerence unto you; O Lord! replyed the King, What a dirty Slut my Daughter is? Neverthelesse they did not forbear to make their approaches to him, and the Rector began his Oration, to which he was attentive, but with much impatience; because it was so full of Similitudes taken out of the propriety of Stones from Pliny, and of the Examples of Illustrious Personages, taken out of Plutarch, insomuch that in the very beginning of his Discourse, which promised to be long enough, having said, Sir, Alexander the Great going to the Conquest of Asia; the King suddenly replyed, What do you mean to do, he had dined then, and I have eaten nothing all this day? The Oration, which was to continue a long hour, was by this means made shorter, and the poor Pedants return'd into their own Kingdom, where with far more patience their flowers of Oratory might be lismed to. The Courtiers who were present did make a glosse upon their habite, they were amazed at the Hoods of these disguised people, and compared the great Hood which the Rector had on, to that in which Mr. Goning did put his Instruments to shew his tricks of activity. They were much troubled to give a reason, wherefore the Antients had invented those venerable ornaments, and if it were colder in their time than in ours? But that which made them [Page 6]laugh most was the dirt which imbroydered the robes of the Pedants, and besides that they brought so much along with them on their feet, that it seemed, all the durt on the other side of the bridge came along with them, the Plancher of the Kings Chamber was so full of it, that they were above two hours in making of it clean. And so Francion we may understand, that although you are not yet a Logitian, you give as good a definition as Aristotle himself could doe, and that a Pedant is a Creature not to be made clean. But let us discourse of Hortensius, ought not he to be excepted from this rule? is he a sprucer man than the rest? of what humour is he? let me know little of him.
On these words I began to vent forth whatsoever I understood of him, Apelles did never paint a Man better than I did set forth my Master by the pensil of my Eloquence, insomuch that I made Fremond to laugh most heartily. When I had given them an account of all that I knew, she told the young Advocate the discourse which the Pedant had with her some few days before, and they both resolved to make good sport with him. I immediately did understand their purpose, and said unto Fremond, I swear unto you Mademoisell, that he is become very amorous of you, for he never sees me but he tells me that you are incomparably perfect, and demandeth of me if I know nothing of your affairs. Say you so Francion, said Fromond, doe me the pleasure as to make him believe that he is infinitely in my favour, and that I never heard any man so cloquent as himself.
Since I could speak familiarly to him, I did not fail to acquit my self of that charge, and better than Fremond hoped, for I so prevailed upon him, that on the next day he came to visit her, and openly did make profession of his Love. He laught at many Pedants who understood nothing of the mystery of Love, and amongst others at the Son of one of the Kings Professors of the Greek Tongue, who being to visit his Sweet-heart, according to the Commandment of his Father, did use no Complement to her at all, but looked down with a bashfull countenance; The Professor being advertized of it, did demand of him why he did not entertain her Amorously, he made answer, that he knew not how to doe it; Out you Asse you, said the Father to him, Nonne legisti Ovidum de Arte Amand [...]? but Hortensius was determined to deport himself otherwise, and had read the Book intituled The Kisses of Johannes Secundus, to teach him how he ought to kisse. The first time that ever he saw his Mistresse he made unto her this learned Oration: Although that your prodigious attractions have surprized my Spirit which had before blasphemed against the feather'd Arrows of Cupid, I ought now not only to implore the Altar of your Sweetnesse, but indeavour to transport that incomparable influence of Heaven where your Divinity so journeth, into the frail Earth where my defects attach me; wherefore being not able but unjustly to addresse my heart to any but to your self, since I have been wonderfully amourous of so amorous a wonder as your self, I have resolved to make my heart come out of its place, and to offer it self at your feet, although that it hath made such general rebellions in my Iudgement and my Reason, who neverthelesse thought that at the last your attractions and my liberty would so shake hands, that my liberty would be enforced to render it self your Captive. And you have now made such strong, visible, and powerfull impressions on my Soul, that never Printer hath printed any leaf better than you have made an impression on my heart with an indelible Character, and my Will receiving on it self the Idoll of your monstrous beauties, doth greatly advance the Honour of your House. For this cause you shall always have the Image of my affection before your eyes, and make nearer your approches to see how innumerable they are. Pluck yours from your heart if you please to keep company with mine, and afflict no more my quiet, as heretofore you have done.
This goodly Oration being ended, Fremond replyed unto him in neat and [Page 7]quick language, that she believed she had not the power to captivate so gallant a Spirit as was his, but she believed that he counterfeited for the most part, to find a Subject whereon to exercise his Eloquence. Ah Deerest Star (said he) you know not that you are already mounted on high above the Horizon of accomplished, and that the miracle of your perfections, and the perfection of your miracles, with a soft violence have wounded my bleeding Soul. O Damoisell, as fair as you are cruell, and as cruell as you are fair, you do much resemble that treacherous Emperour Nero, who took pleasure to see the City of Rome on fire, for from the Turret of your merits you with delight behold not only the Suburbs, but even the City of my heart to burn, with all the Churches in it, which I have dedicated to your Honour; Know you not Lady, that an Antient did speak this beautifull Sentence, Amoris vulnus idem qui facit sanat. Recover then a poor dying man, I shall otherwise sing with the Poet Propertius, whom you know to be a good Author, and without reproach, Solus Amor morbi non cupit Artificem. In pursuance of this he did utter so many broken pieces of Latin, that I believe he brought up all that which was within the sink of his Common Places under the title of Love. Fremond without making apparence that she found any impertinence in his discourse, did listen attentively to him, and withall did answer him as favourably as he could desire, which was the reason that he thus followed his Sute; Why then more fair than Venus, than Venus of Cyprus, whatsoever Oration that miserable and passive I can make in the way of Demonstration, and whatsoever Syllogism can flow from my mouth, you cannot but thereby acknowledge that I am your Superlative Servant per omnes casus. You were not born to serve Sir (said Fremond to him) there is no Maid so ambitious whatsoever she be that will take upon her the quality to be your Mistresse; for my self I should be happy to assume that of Slave. On that, Hortensius made Replyes, which for pleasantnesse of conceit were beyond all comparison, and the discourses of all the Pedants in the world are not to be valued with them, for he powred forth at once all the best phrases in the Latin Tongue, and did assist himself with no small number of Greek Proverbs, with which he interlarded his discourse. I leave you to judge if Fremond did understand all that which he did speak.
She who received all the offers of his service in deriding them according to her custom, did not stick to assure him, that within few days she would come to give him a visit, and would bring with her but two Neighbours that were Citizens, and if it were possible the young Advocate (that made love unto her) who she said, was her Cosin German. Hortensius having notice of the day when the Queen of his heart would come unto his lodgings, did make great preparations, Love having made him prodigall. He would willingly lay forth halt of his yearly pension to make a sumptuous collation. I was of opinion that he would not have my Company, and therefore to make sure work I resolved to make use of the opportunity. A Bottle of Muscadell, and another of Hippocras were in his Study, which did most strongly tempt me, but what means was there to obtain them? Invention did assist me with a suddain Expedient, in which apprehension I entred into the Chamber of Hortensius, where observing him to read in a Book of a great bulk, I looked upon the Title to see what it conteined. It was a large Treatise of the State and power of the Turk; Behold here a good Book, said he, I now have learned that which I did not know before. It is good to live, and to observe all things. I do find that no man doth ever turn his Posteriors to the great Emperour who sits in the seat of Mahomet, and whosoever departs from him he must goe backwards, although he were the Ambassadour of France; Do you remember this, Truant, said he? Goe and write it down presently in your Table Book: It is excellent indeed said I, and smiled, for since I found that he was amorous, I thought my self as great a Master as himself, and seeing his Study open I made but one step into [Page 8]it. What doe you within there, said he, unto me? I replyed, I would look one word Sir, in your Ovid; It is in the corner of the little table, said he. I had nothing to do with Ovid, howsoever the better to manage my design, I took it up, and finding the bottle of Hypocras, which was too bigg to hide in my breeches, I tyed it fast unto me with a point behind me, and proceeding in my admirable Invention, I came forth, holding Ovid in my hand, and going still backwards and backwards, I said to my Master, who at that present had his eys fixed on his Book; Sir, I have so great a desire to retain in my Memory the Reverence which is shewed to the great Turk, that at this time I will go from you as if you were he; I then did go backwards to the door in all the postures of a Mimick, which caused him to laugh; and having in this manner stoll'n his bottle, I did open it in my study, where I took some hearty draughts, but for fear that I should meet him when he should be in the height of his Fury having discover'd my theft, I presently returned to his Chamber, and demanded leave of him to go forth, which being obtained with a loud Exeat, I took my bottle along with me under my gown, and did empty it with a young Scholar of the City who was my friend; After that, I did goe to look out Fremond, with whom I feared not to return into the College, because I knew she was as able to appease the choler of Hortensius, as a glasse of water is able to qualifie the heat of a glasse of wine.
She had but two neighbours in her company as she had promised, with whom she came unto Hortensius, not at the great Gate of the College, but at the B [...]k door, which for that purpose be caused to be opened, although it bad before been kept fast locked above six years together.
After some amorous entertainment, he took a pen in his hand, and wrote certain verses on a Paper in the praise of his Mistresse. One of the Citizens that were the companions of Fremond did praise the Verses, but remembring that she had seen the same lines amongst the Works of a Modern Poet, when she observed him sometimes to stand in a great pause, sometimes to scratch his head, and bite his nayls, and sometimes to [...]amp on the ground, as if he had been in labour to finish those Stanzaes, which he feigned to compose, she spake unto him by way of upbraiding, Sir, If you have forgot what doth follow, I will dictate it unto you; write it down, for I have it by heart, It is but yesterday since I did read that piece in a Book which was presented to me. I believe not so (said Hortensius) it came intirely from my Muse. I will rehearse unto you what follows, said the Citizens Wife, and you shall find that it will answer to that which you have already written. Having then repeated the Verses to him word for word, she was not so contented, but entred into his study, and made so diligent a search, that at length she found the Book, by the likenesse it had unto her own, where she shewed to Hortensius the same Verses which he had written; but he would not seem to understand her, but assured her that he was the Author, and vainly would perswade her, that his Genius was like unto that of the Poets, and did jump with him in the same thoughts and in the same words: And have you not heard, said he, That there is nothing spoken, which hath not been spoken hertofore? And yet I find some difference here; for I have made Fremonda, and he hath wrote Clorinda; in one place I have wrote charms, and he hath wrote attractions; in the beginning of my third Stanza, you find, I do not see, and in the same place in his you shall read, I see not. Thus did Hortensius imploy his head to excuse his theft, which was greater than mine who did steal his bottle; but it did no more cover his fault, than the throwing on of a net doth cover a naked man; and although at that time they did forbear openly to deride him, yet since in divers companies it hath made sport enough: But when I th nk of the Citizens Wife, If after seeing his first Stanza, she had immediately retired her self, and not looked upon the others, and when he had done writing, if she had rehearsed the whole Poem, as [Page 9]she had it in her Memory, one undoubtedly would believe that she was some great So [...]ceresse, thinking she had divined that which Hortensius was come at the same time to compose.
This Invention being not then in her mind, she made use of that which I have related to you, which was as good, and our Pedant, to cause her to forget it, did begin immediately to take the dishes in his hand, and to charge the table with an honest Collation. There was no more want of Confects dry or wet, than there is want of water in a River, neverthelesse the Bottle of Hypocras was wanting, and because it could not be found, they must content themselves with the Muscadel only. Hortensius would not make it apparent that the stealing away of one of his bottles could put him into a distemper; because, you must th [...]nk, he was afraid to have his Mistresse see him in a passion. I being glad of i [...], did assume the boldnesse to come unto the chair where Fremond sate, wh [...] did use me with all the courtesie she could, giving me that which was left, having fill'd her belly and her pockets. Hortensius had a custom when he Feasted any [...], to eat more himself than all those who were at his table, to the end that the greatest part of his expence might turn to his own profit, and he had now performed his part pretty handsomly in emptying the plates, but best of all in draining the bottles; insomuch, as he was well entred into a gallant humor. [...] every [...]urn he would give you an account of some petty History of Love; but because he had a great Vice, in not pronouncing according to the points and periods, a fault which many others do commit, who in telling their story will be alwayes saying, To make short, The Companion of her who did affront him in his Poesy, did immediately observe him, and at the first time he said, To make short, (having made some odd repetitions before) she took him up, and said unto him, If you intend to please, you must not say, You will make short, for in every thing that doth please, we do love to have it long. This familiarity did increase his mirth, and caused him to drink deeper, insomuch that he now flagger'd in his feet, as before he had tripped in his tongue. They did ask him, If he did learn to dance? whereupon he immediately danced some passages in a Coranto. And being altogether unmindfull to conceal his malady, he said, There is a certain Author, and who is anonymous, as I think, that affirme, B [...]l [...] dol [...]s [...] [...]u [...]t [...]tor est, primùm caput, deinde pedes tentat, at this time I do acknowledge the truth thereof, for (the more at once to surprize me) he both ass [...]ults [...] in the head, and trips up my heels.
As he continued this discourse, the young Advocate who loved Fremond did enter into the Room, with two of his friends, and two female Citizens more, and those the most pleasant ones in all the City. Sir, said the Advocate, having some business with Madamoiselle Fremond, we have made bold to come into your house, for which I doe desire you that you would excuse us. Fremond interrupted him, and said, I assure my self that Mr. Hortensius is very glad of your comming, and is not sorry at all, unlesse it be that you are come too late to his Collation; whereupon one of the Company said, there is yet a little of the Muscadel left. Salva pace, said the Usher. Well, well, said Hortensius to him. Go, and give order to my Friend the Victualler, to send me the best piece of Roast-meat that he he hath. He spake these words, because he saw it was very late, and that those who came last had brought a Fidler with them: he therefore imagined that in Civility he must give a Supper to them all, and the rather, because that some of them had continued there a long time, nevertheless it did not grieve him, because they appeared to him to be people of so good a Temper, that he could do no lesse than buy their Company.
As the Usher was going out of doors, I desired him to take me along with him; for having my liberty but seldom, I was glad to take the opportunity to go into the City upon any occasion whatsoever. He was so pleasant at that time, that he readily granted what I desired; for he was glad that all the world [Page 10]should take notice of the power he had over me; we did therefore goe together to the Victualler, but we found nothing there that pleased us, and drank only a Glasse or two of wine. We were advised to goe so far as the Cooks at the little bridge. The Vsher there did buy a Capon, and desiring to take along with him a piece of rosted Beef, he did goe amongst all the Cooks, and could find no piece according to his mind. I observed a Cooks Wife who seemed to me to be a very handsom Woman, and I addressed my self to her to make my Market, she was newly marryed, and did not well understand what belonged to her trade. I demanded of her the price of her rost beef, she said, Four and twenty Souse, which was thrice as much as it was worth. An Asses pizzle, said I, and speaking that word did goe out of doors. Her Husband perceiving that she did drive her Customers from his Shop by putting too high a price upon his meat, did say unto her, I know not what you mean, to ask so dear for what is to be sold, if you use to do in this manner I shall sell nothing at all; Call back the boy again; His wife desiring to make amends for her fault, and believing that an Asses pizzle was some new kind of coyn which she never had heard of before, did call me back as loud as she could, and said unto me, Honest Customer will you not give me an Asses Pizzle and a half?
The caprichiousnesse of the conceit did make me laugh so heartily, that I cannot remember I ever heard any thing that gave me more content. I returned to her shop being overcome with the excesse of laughter, and said unto him, I will give her two Asses Pizzles if she will; but her Husband approaching to me did speak in passion, Goe too, Goe too, you are a very wagg, that which she said was not out of wantonesse but misprision. Another time she will be even with you; Give me twelve Souse. On those words the Usher came, who gave him ten Souse with which he was contented, and we returned to the College with our bargain.
After I had made the Company laugh at the Account which faithfully I represented to them, they all sate down to the Table to Supper, but the Ladies who assisted at the Collation would not eat, but Hortensius so laid about him that his Teeth did rattle again in his head. O what a brave sight it was to see how artificially he did gnaw the Legg of the Capon, turning his head on that side where Fremond sate, and gogling with his eyes to give her an amorous reguard; but it was a better sight to observe how I stood behind Fremond to receive from her those morsels which did please me better than my ordinary pension. Supper being ended they made the Fidler to play all sorts of Dances, and the young men that were present did shew the disposition of their Bodies to the sound of that agreeable instrument. At the last being weary with that exercise, they presented some other sports with which the Ladies were much delighted.
And after so many and so different pastimes that it is impossible to repeat them all, I shall only acquaint you, that (in good earnest) they played topsy turvy excellently well, for there was not a book in all the Study which in derision they had not thrown on the ground, and they did not spare so much as the foul Linnen, which according to the custom of the College was in a corner of the Chamber. Every one took a piece, and folding it hard up, they did throw it at the head of Hortensius, who asked them what was the Game they played at, and defended himself very untowardly. At last they told him there must be no denyal, for he must dance with Fremond to the musick of the Violl. He did readily accord unto it, howsoever he would not pull off his Cassock, not that he was afraid it should be stollen from him, as a provident Gallant whom I know, who danceth always with his long Coat on, for fear it should be stollen from him, but because that he would not have it seen that his Doublet wanted two or three Skirts, and was torn in several places, some of which were mended with stuff of one colour, and some of another. But what resistance soever he did make it would not serve his turn; for he was inforced to [Page 11]put off that reverend coverture of his poverty. It was no small pastime to observe the turn [...] and the passes he made, and the Capers he did cut; I conceive they were the same that Socrates practised when he had a curiosity to learn to dance, a little before his death. In the mean time one of the young men did put on his Cassock, and covered his head with his square cap, which Hortensius seeing did assure him, that in that habit he was very like the Principal of the College; whereupon another demanded of him what a kind of man was the Principal? I will tell you, said he, He is a man of merit, but that he makes me pay too much for the rent of my Chambers, he spoke also something worse of him, as being of a detracting spirit, especially against those who sucked the Marrow out of his purse.
On those words he took a Base Violl from the testern of his Bed, and perswading himself that he could play well thereon, he had a desire to charm the ears of his Mistresse. The Fidler by chance knew the same Ayr which he began to jarr upon, and Hortensius consorting with him of his own accord did say unto the Company, You ought to dance some Mask to the tune which our instruments doe play. What personages shall we represent, said Fremond? Let the Gentleman (said he) who hath on my Cassock personate the Principal within, and doe you and the rest of the Company take the Gowns in the next chamber of those whom I teach, and act the parts of Scholars; Mr. Principal doe you take the rods which are made fast to yonder matt, you shall scourge your Companions by turns one after another. The Company being gone out of his Chamber into the next to attire themselves, did find that it was very late, and determined all of them to goe home without bidding good night, giving him leave to scrape his belly full on his Violl; I did go into the Chamber where Hortensius was playing, to bring away the Cloaks of the Men, and the Muffs of the Women, making him believe that they would conduce the better to disguise them, and having brought them all unto them, I did let them forth at the back door, the Usher who was imployed another way having left me the Keys; Afterward I returned to my Study, and made fast the door, as if I had not stirred out of it all that Evening.
The Principal was by that time in the Court, and walked the round with a great Lanthorn before him. He heard the Violl and the Fiddle that played together, and could not imagine who they were that made the most untunable musick in the world, for the two instruments were not of the same found, and did not follow one another, and our Master did often strike on those strings which he ought not to touch, and almost at every stroke did mistake one for another, taking C for B and D for C. The Principal standing close to the Wall did listen attentively, and heard Hortensius who cryed out as loud as he could, Why do you stay so long? Enter Mr. Principal, make hast and bring in your Mask with you. The Principal believed that he did speak to him, and that he had seen him out of his Window, wherefore he did goe up the stairs, and his train with him, as well to know what he had to say unto him, as to understand if there were any marriage there or not; He was in the entry to his Chamber when Hortensius cryed out again, Festina Principal, you make me weary to attend you, I will make a hard shift but I will dance the Mask my self, if you will not enter the sooner, and striking the Fiddler on his fingers with his Fiddle stick, O good man (said he) play me the dance which the Lacedemonians danced at their Sacrifices, or the Saraband which the Cretians of Saturn, for fear the great Glutton should hear the cry of the little child, and devour him as he did the rest. The Fidler who did not understand his language did continue playing on as he did before, wherefore Hortensius being in a great choler did strike him harder than he did before, which made the Fiddler to cry out as loud as he could. The Principal stood near unto the door, and listned [Page 12]to all this, but his Curiosity caused him now to enter, and to demand of our Master, What Devils dance is it that you would have me to dance? What is the sport that you are making here Master Hortensius? Vertue of God, I think you are little better than drunk? O good Sir, be not angry, said Hortensius, I have not drank so hard but I know the Principal well enough; I have made a feast for some of my friends, with whom I am a little merry: it was not to you to whom I did speak, it was to one of those who was to enter with his Cymmerian Mummery, which he hath undertaken to bring in with the rest of his Society. But where are these people of whom you speak? said the Principal. They are attiring themselves in my Scholars chamber, said Hortensius. The Principal immediately entred into their chamber, and finding not any one there, he return'd and said unto him, I believe you are not well in your wits, and that you imagine you have a great Company, when you are alone by your self; Lord I what a disorder have you made in your chamber? here is such a confusion, as if all the hoggs in the Town had been here: see here good Seneca! and how other Authors of the Latin tongue doe lie bedabled amongst the ordures; and speaking those words, he did take up divers Books which they had thrown down in the height of their debauchment. And you Mr. Fidler, for your part, I shall inforce you with bastinadoes to tell me from whence you doe come, and what you have to doe in my College? Peradventure it is your good melody that hath made this honest man to lose his understanding▪ who (before having not his Equal in Eloquence) was indeed a Phoenix. O good Sir, pardon me, said the Fidler, I did not come but as I was led, my poor sight is lost: A man, whom I know not, brought me hither, and hath sent back my eyes to my house, telling them, that I should have no need of them untill to morrow morning, at which time he would send them to me. What do you mean by your eyes, said the Principal? I so call the poor Boy that leads me, said the Fidler, He told me once in the street that he saw me, and he being a poor Boy I received him into my Imagination, as if I had seen him also. O good Jesus, I would he was here, that I might lye somewhere else than in this place, where so much mischief is done me. But even now I asked for a little drink, and they gave me a glasse whose foot was all bescumber'd, and although the ill savour did much displease me, yet the great thirst I had did inforce me to lift it to my mouth, which greedily opening it self to receive it, I swallowed a great deal of Urine which was in it, before I could well tast whether it was wine or not. But that is not all, This goodly Musician that playes with me hath beaten me into plaister, which (after a world of Latin he hath spoken to me) did afflict as much my soul, as his blows have done my Body. O you▪ whosoever you are that doe speak unto me▪ I doe believe that you know me well, because you have made mention of the Sign of the Tap-house where I lodge, which is the Phoenix; Lead me home, I pray you, and I will give you half a Souze. Make no such offers nor intreaties to me, said the Principal, I am only angry here with my Friend, you have not eyes to see who I am, Look out some other Guide. During this discourse, Hortensius did begin to put his House in order, and the Fidler taking him by the arm, said unto him, Hear you Sir, I have played all this Evening, and was promised a Quardecue for my pains, Give it me Sir? Ah my Friend, said Hortensius, Have not you taken as much contentment to hear me play on the Violl, as I have done to hear you play on your Fiddle, and doe I demand any money of you for my recompence? Oh, But you have danced Sir, said the Fidler, and you cannot say that your dancing did give me any pleasure; and it is no reason that I should pay for it; for I cannot see at all. Let those pay thee then, that did imploy thee, said Hortensius; Thou canst show nothing of thy work, it is all vanished into air, and yet thou would'st have some real and sensible salary, and feel a Quardecue to fall with weight into thy pocket. See here the misery of this Age, said the Fidler. Alas, alas, Our Estate is not esteem'd as it hath been, I have [Page 13]known the dayes when a dozen of them would fall thicker into this powch, than two of them do now. I have played before Kings in my dayes, and they have set me at the upper end of the Table. Comfort your self my friend, said the Principal, I will pay you. But Mr. Hortensius, VVill you retain the Salary of this poor Man? Tell me, what Fancy moved you to play with him? Have I not told you already, said Hortensius? I will see what is become of my Company, and speaking those words, he took the Candle, and did look over all his lodgings. The Principal knocking at our Studies, demanded of us, If there had bin any with our Master? we made answer that we knew nothing, to shew unto him that we followed our Books with such eager diligence, that we had no thought at all of those indifferent things which passed in his Lodging. I know not what to think of it (said Hortensius) coming back from his inquest, but I cannot meet with any one. Goe to bed, and take your Rest, said the Principal, you have need of it, for he believed he had lost his senses. I will take the Fidler along with me, who shall lie this night in my lodgings, for fear you should make a new quarrel, or being at peace one with another, you should begin your Musick again. Having spoken those words, he took the poor Man along with him, to whom he gave some monies which he received from my Master. They being departed, Hortensius came to me, and demanded of me, Whither Fremond and her Companions were gone? I made him believe, that being advertised that the Principal was come into our Lodgings, she desired me to open the back door to return that way, fearing he should see her, and that all her company followed her. He then demanded of me where was his Cassock? I told him, that he who was to act the Principal had taken it along with him, and said, that he would come in the morning to give a Breakfast to him, and all the Company that were with him. Ah Jupiter thou God of Hospitality I said Hortensius, Thou hast seen how I have honoured thy Deity, I have gallantly entertained my Guests, and thereupon they will as gallantly entertain me.
In this humor he did go to bed, and early in the morning he was visited by all the Pedants of the College, who came to see if he were restored to his senses, which the Principal assured them he had lost. He had so well digested his Wine in the night, that they found him in that sober temper in which he was accustomed to be; neverthelesse they did not forbear to make sport with him for his Musick. After dinner he gave me a charge to goe to Fremond, to desire her to send him back his Cassock. Fremond did resolve to write a Letter to him, in which she acquainted him, that she acknowledged his affection, which was very agreeable to her, but his condition did displease her; for although her Father was but an Advocate, yet he was descended of a noble Family, and that she would not espouse a Man who at least was not noble by his Vertues, and did not make profession of Arms. Therefore the Cassock should not be restored to him, because he must wear a sword if he would obtain that of her which he professed that he so much desired.
Having read this Epistle, which was a definitive Sentence, he answered her Letter with another, in which he represented, that his Design was alwayes to make himself an Advocate, thinking it would be agreeable to her to have a Husband of the same Condition as was her Father; that she did ill to undervalue Men of Learning, who, no doubt, were more noble than Men of Arms; Neverthelesse, since it was her pleasure, he would take to the Sword, although the Profession which he had alwayes followed, did no wayes derogate from the Nobility of her Ancestors, which by proofs he would make apparent to her. All this was intermingled with Sentences, Proverbs, Examples, and Authorities, in a more than a barbarous confusion, which was so uneasie to unintangle, that the Advocate and four of his Friends who were all lettered Men, did imploy a whole afternoon about it, and yet could not make their explications, but by Conjectures.
[Page 14] Hortensius was as much lost in love as a man could be, and to speak the truth the cause of his passion did deserve it should be so. He resolved with himself to perform what he had promised, and knowing that if he should arm his side with a Sword, and be sudenly compleat in the habit of a Souldier, it would seem strange to those who were acquainted with the whole course of his education, he thought it more expedient by little and little to accustome himself unto it. To this purpose he did one day put on a pair of Boots, and walking into the City he told all his friends he did meet with, that on the next morning he was to take his journey into Normandy which was his native Country, he caused also the same report to be noysed in the College; Neverthelesse, he did not depart till four days afterwards, and left a Substitute to have a care of his Scholars in his absence: Being returned he lodged abroad, and not in the College, and left not off his Sword or his Boots, but made his long Cloak shorter, and metamorphosed his Cassock into a Doublet cut upon his Shirt, he did wear every day a Band with a Bonelace on it, and had nothing of a Pedant but the Discourse only.
Fremond having seen him in this Equipage, did professe unto him that he infinitely pleased her, but she could not be entirely contented, if he did not shew her the proofs of the antiquity of his Nobility, which he vaunted that he could. Being brought to this extremity, he diligently sought after the means to maintain so false a Title, and having understood that a good old man, a Townsman of his was in Paris, he took the pains to look him out, and desired him to witnesse that he knew hi [...] Father, and that he lived always in his Country in the reputation of a Gentleman. The old man being a very honest man told him, that being so near as he was to render unto God an Account of his Actions, he could not be induced to be a witnesse to an untruth for all the recompence he did promise him, neither did he now desire any reward, for he looked after a more sure possession than the goods of this world. Hortensius replyed, that on every demand that should be propounded to him, he would provide him with such amphibological answers, that although they were nothing but the truth, yet they should conduce much to prove that which he desired. The Countryman said unto him, If it be so, he had met with a man from whom he should receive all manner of contentment. Go too then, said Hortensius, My Father was as good a Gentleman as thou art, and if thou shalt affirm that he was noble, thou shalt nor lie at all, for thou hast not the Spirit of a Clown, and no more had he. I will shew thee how. If the Rent of one hundred thousand Crowns had been given to you both, you would not have addicted your selves to Mechanick exercises to which poverty did compell your Spirits, you would have eaten without doing any thing, and you would have lived the whole course of your life without doing any thing, which is to be noble. The will which you have ought to be reputed for the deed, and in affirming this you commit not the fourth part of the least Venial Sin; And so much in speaking on the first proposition. If the second be propounded to you, which is, if my Father hath served the King in his wars, you may assure him that he hath; for truly I remember that in Winter nights by the fire side, he hath told my Mother that in his youth he was something wild, during the troubles at that time in France, and as a Souldiers boy he did serve a younger Brother, who commanded a Company of Foot in the Kings Service, now since he did service to a man who fought for the King, there is no man can deny but that he did it to his Majesty himself; and what, though he was no Captain, nor General of the Army, men are not to be blamed that they doe not all of them arrive to that height of Honours, for we are not all the Favourits of Fortune.
The Countryman accorded to serve Hortensius as a Witnesse in this affair, being induced to it by his good reasons. The first time afterwards that the Pedant saw Fremond, he desired her that she would be pleased to assign a day to [Page 15]give him a meeting in any house she would appoint, where he might fully declare his mind unto her. On the day appointed he came with his Countryman, and the Servant for additions, whom he commanded to keep himself all-ways behind him, and when he numbred any acres or sums of money which he had, to step forth and take the word with confidence out of his mouth, and make it twice as much, to the end that on the one side they might judge extremely to his advantage, and on the other, that he might be taken for a modest man, and without the least shadow of vanity, who made his estate lesse than indeed it was.
Fremond was in the same house with her who was the Mistress of it, & did accompany her unto the College. The young Advocate whom she called Cosen, was also there, because she said that she would first communicate to him the Sute of Hortensius before she would acquaint her Father with it. There were beside two other brave Companions, and fit to be present at such a conference. Our Pedant did first of all entertain his Mistresse with the Discourse of Love, according to his custome, and when he saw that she did put him in mind of his promises, and desired to be assured if he had means enough to maintain her in the condition of a Gentlewoman, he began to discover his estate with the greatest impertinence in the world. Monsieur (said he) (addressing himself particularly to her Cosin, who had thrust himself into their company) to the end that you may not conceive me to be any contemptible fellow, understand that in my Country I have the possession of a house worth two thousand Crowns. His Servant for additions who stood behind him, stepped forth, and according to his precepts with a great confidence said unto him, Nay Sir, it is well worth four thousand Crowns. Ho, said Hortensius turning aside to him, must you take up your Master? If I should make it lesse you ought not sirrah to gainsay me. Moreover, said he, I have a Constitution of three thousand Liuvres due to a Denier, and the person that ows it me is very able to pay it. Nay it is six thousand Liuvres, said his Servant for additions, I have seen the Contract, and the Bonds to confirm it. Wilt thou not yet hold thy peace thou beggarly fellow? said Hortensius; His Servant for additions replyed, Yes Sir, but it is requisite that I doe put you in mind of that which you forget.
On that the Gentlewoman of the house, who was a Companion of Fremonds, did acquaint Hortensius, that there was a report that he had some infirmities and if it were so she would not counsell Fremond to espouse him. He made answer, they are Slanderers who do make this report unto you; I am here before one; to whom I would no more appear a Lyer, than before the Divinity it self, I therefore swear that I have neither blain nor blemish in all my Body, but only what a hot Iron made by an accident in my left Legg. His Servant for additions believing that he was to multiply what his Master said, according to his instructions, Sir, said he, you have one like unto it on you right Legg. Hortensius being angry did rise from his Chair to strike his Groom, and to punish him for his indiscretion, but they retained him, and his Servant for additions believed that his passion was but counterfeited as before, and therefore determined with himself to perform again his office on the first opportunity.
Fremond then said unto Hortensius, we may collect as well by yours as by your Servants words, that you are worth eighteen thousand Liuvres, but we understand by some persons of credit that you owe ten thousand, part whereof you have borrowed to assist you in the purchase of your house, and the other part to supply your necessities. Those who told you so, replyed Hortensius, did mis-inform you. Pardon me (answered Fremond) If you please that we shall hold you for a Frank man, you cannot deny a thing which is apparent to us. Being then unwilling to dissemble with his Mistresse, and imagining it was enough to assure her that he was worth eight thousand Franks, he said unto [Page 16]her, Since it is your pleasure, that I should say after you, I do confesse that I am in debt Ten thousand liuvers. His Servant for additions incontinently replyed, Nay Sir, to my knowledge you owe Twenty thousand. How? said Hortensius, rising up, Dost thou not see how thou goest beyond thy Commission? and whispering him in the ear, he told him, he did not speak now of Possessions, but of a Debt, and did not I, said he, instruct thee to multiply the Possessions only? to those words he added four or five blowes with his fist, which had been followed with others, if his choler were not restrained. When he was sate down again, Fremond said unto him, Although you pretended to be rich, I doe find you indigent, for if you have Eighteen Thousand Franks, you doe owe Twenty thousand; and I perceive well enough you doe not so much desire to marry a Wife, as to meet with a good portion to relieve you in the necessities of your Age.
To speak the truth, he was worth three thousand Crowns, which he had gained by paring our portions, in performing the office of a Regent in several Forms, and by some other particular advantages; neverthelesse he could never make Fremond believe it, nor any of her Company, who were all inexorable, and would give no credence, but to those words only which his Servant for additions had delivered. Howsoever Fremond said, that if he were of a good Family, as he pretended to be, peradventure she would not so much regard his poverty. Oh Madamoisell, I have here a witnesse of it, said he, and causing the Countryman to approach, he proceeded, Behold here an honest and a substantial Man, to whom I do referr my self. Hear you then my Friend (said the Kinsman of Fremond) We desire to know, if the Father of Master Hortensius was noble, or no; What say you? I know very well that he was, said the Countryman. And his Grandfather also, said the Advocate? He was so, said the Countryman. Sir, Have you any Patents to shew for it, said the Advocate to Hortensius? No, said he; for since my Ancestors have advanced themselves by their Vertues, we need not any Patents from the King. The generous actions of my Progenitors, which without discontinuance have declared themselves to all the world, have made themselves known even unto Envy, and if in those days they had been recorded in Letters, they had before this time been defaced by age, or consumed by Rats. I do believe you, said the Advocate. But you honest Man (said he) speaking to the Countryman, Tell me if the Father of Monsieur was ever in the Warrs during his life? Yes Sir, (said he) I dare assure you. The Advocate replyed, Being returned to his House from the wars, did he alwaies wear a sword, as the badge of his Condition? The Countryman found himself to be here surprized; for Hortensius had not instructed him how be should answer to such a Proposition, without speaking an untruth; in the end he told him, that he had alwaies seen him wear a great Whittle, and of a good length at his girdle, and said moreover, that he did never goe out of doors without one Iron Instrument or other; What Iron Instrument, said the Advocat, it possibly might be a Spade? No, Sir, said the Countryman, it was a Gleave, being unwilling to use the name of Sword or Whittle. Did he live like a Man of quality, said the Advocate? How many doggs did he keep? None but one, answered the other. What dogg was that? A great Mastiff, replyed the Countryman. He did not go a hunting then, said the Advocate? Once, replyed the Countryman, I saw him hunt the Wolf who devoured his sheep, and to show his valour, at one blow he killed him with his Sheep-hook. This last is the most remarkable of all, said the Advocate, and smiled; he made use of his Sheep-hook, when he should have imployed his Harquebuze, and yet this Man had been a Souldier; But what did his Mastiff do? He served to keep his flock when sometimes he absented himself from them, being imployed in the making of small Crucifixes of wood, and other little Figures; as well to avoid Idlenesse, as to gain something for the sustenance of his life. At that they began to laugh [Page 17]outright, which had been louder, had Hortensius not been present, they all desiring to use him respectfully, that they might receive more pleasure from him. As far then as we can learn, honest Friend, by your Discourse (said the Advocate) the Father of Hortensius did keep sheep, and was constrained to work with his hands for his daily bread; but he need not to be ashamed at it, said the Advocate, and smiled to himself: for having read so much, he is not ignorant, that Princes sometimes were Shepherds, and the Innocence and Tranquillity of that Condition is yet highly esteemed. Hortensius observing that the Error which the Countryman committed was unpardonable, was contented to affirm, that this Father was not the lesse to be esteemed, because he kept a flock of Sheep: for being discharged of the tumults of the War, he believed he could not better relish the sweetnesse of peace in any other condition. But Fremond, drawing her mouth an inch and a half wider than ordinary, and mopping at him, assured him, that he might look him out a Wife somewhere else, and that she would not have a Husband whose Father was of so base a quality, and that she was afraid (for possibly Hortensius had kept a herd of Swine in his youth) that in speaking to her, he might believe that he was yet speaking to his hoggs, and would use her, as he did use them; and that all the world, pointing at her with their finger, might say, Behold there where goes the young Sow Madamoisell!
The disdain hereof did put Hortensius into such a fury, that it proved a saving Antidote against the poyson of his love, which immediately he turned into hate, and without saying Adieu to any one, he flung out of the Chamber, and made fast the Door after him, for fear they should fetch him back again. He came directly to the College to acquaint his Usher with his misfortune. In the mean time the Countryman, and the Servant for additions, who stayed behind, were examined upon certain Interrogatories, and they found that this glorious Pedant did come almost stark naked to Paris, and was constrained to beg, until he had found a livelihood. His Servant for additions did think to return to him, but he dismissed him when ever he saw him, as the folly he committed did deserve, and the Countryman did go from him without a recompence, since he had destroyed all his Hopes.
In the height of his Rage he did write a Letter to Fremond, in which he inveighed against her with a thousand pedantick names; he called her Medea, Megera, 1 [...] siphone. He told her, that since she would not be a Rose, and be gathered by a Noursling of the Muses, who had drank more than one Bucket ful of the Fountain of Aganippe, he desired Phoebus to metamorphose her into a Thistle, that she might serve to feed Asses; that he saw well enough by the example of Jupiter, who was transformed into a Swan, a Satyr, and a Bull, to delight himself with his Mistresses, that he must be a Beast who obtaineth any thing from a Woman, and especially from her whom he esteemed to be the only Woman in the world, that is to say, who had the greatest part of that inconstant and brutish humor which pertained to her Sex. Afterwards he came to reproaches, and to shew the greatest basenesse in the world, he reckoned the expences he had been at to entertain her and her Company, and assured her, that he would have saved that money, but that he was in hope to have espoused her, and told her in the conclusion, That since he was frustrated of his expectation, his Expectation was, that she, and all those whom he entertained, should by turns give him the like feast one after another.
I was the Mercury of this Missive; but I carried not the Charming Rod, which is a sign of Peace, for I came to denounce War. Fremond would civilly have answered his outrages, to have alwaies enjoyed the extraordinary mirth of his Company. She did write unto him, that she minded not the Injuries with which he defamed her, because she knew that he was prepossessed with passion, and that she alwayes highly did esteem him, by reason of his knowledge, [Page 18]but she said, she could not make him her Husband, because he was not of that quality which the present custome of the age did require, which she was inforced to follow, neverthelesse she would always bear an honest affection to him to recompence his own; And for his Banquet there were none that should be in his debt for it, for her Cosin should feast him first, and afterwards all the rest should follow by turns.
Hortensius having read this Answer did throw it into the fire, affirming that he would have nothing to doe with the affections or the Feasts of Fremond, and being more wise for the time to come, he did swear that he would indear himself no more to any Girles but the Muses, who also do allure us because they are of that deceitfull Sex. Although the Message his old Mistresse did send unto him was full of flatteries, yet he would never endure the frequentation of her Company any more, neverthelesse he discontinued not to wear a Sword, and hath ever since lived on his Revenues, and what he hath gained by translating some Books out of Latin into French, or by being a Corrector of the Presse. I finished all the course of my studies in the same College, paying my pension to the Usher, where nothing arrived worthy of recital, but what already I have related to you, and the Vacations of the year of my Philosophy being come, I was commanded by my Father to take my leave of the College, and to return to Brittany.
When I was in my own Country I saw the end of all my happinesse, I was perpetually vexed by being demanded in what Calling I would imploy my self, my ears were furred with the importunate clamors and counsells of my friends, who would have me study Humanity, and the tedious Volumes of the Law, to be one of the Counsellers in Parlament; but opinions do change when age comes on, and my Father afterwards hated no men more than those of the long Robe, as since he hath made it appear by one who married my Sister. And my Mother desirous to comply with him in all things, did seem to desire as well as himself to have me a Counsellor of the Law.
This did rellish so ill with me, that it is impossible to represent it to you. At that time I declamed within my self against the wickednesse of the Age, where the natural Laws are corrupted, and the most generous Spirits are constrained to take upon them a great charge to trouble their repose, and cannot live in Quiet, which is a blessing that is not denyed unto Beasts. From day to day I delayed to learn that dangerous knowledge which I have always hated more than the plague, it being the cause of the greatest part of our Vexations. Being on the point to forsake my Fathers house he did fall extremely sick; In vain the Physicians round about him did their endeavour to recover him, so it was that he dyed, and left his Wife and Children much afflicted for so great a losse.
After his death, my Mother who accorded with me in all things which I desired, did leave off the Resolution she had taken to force me to take the long Robe, and because I was a stranger in Brittany, being accustomed to the Air of Paris, I besought her that she would permit me to return thither; she demanded of me what I would do there; I replyed to her, that I would passe away some time in learning honest exercises, and that I would indeavour to put my self in the service of some Prince. My Brothers in Law did give their advice upon it, and represented to me that Fortune reign'd most imperiously at the Court, and shewed there the greatest effects of her inconstancy; And briefly, when I presumed to be in the highest degree of all her favours, she would throw me down into the bottom of despair. All this did not detere me, I had nothing in my head but the greatnesse of the world. In the end they gave me leave to put in practice my intention. I returned to Paris, and lodged in the University which I could not forget. I was afterwards acquainted with a Man who had Chambers ready furnished, and took Pensioners, and I dayly [Page 19]repaired to a Player on the Lute, a Fencer, and a Dancer, to learn their art, so that one hour was to exercise my self in one faculty, and the other in another; I imployed all the remainder of my time to read indifferently all manner of Books, and I learned more in three months than I did before in seven years in the College, when I heard those Pedantick absurdities which did so corrupt my judgement, that I believed all the Fables of the Poets to be true stories, and did conceive to my self that there were Sylvans and Dryades in the Forests, Nayades in the Fountains, and Nereides in the Sea: Moreover I believed that whatsoever was spoken of transformations was true; and I never saw a Nightin gall but I believed it was the Kings Daughter of Thracia. Neither was I alone abused in this conceit; for I know a great many more, and some Masters themselves, who were of the same opinion.
As these old Errors were chased out of my understanding, I filled it with better knowledge, and setting my self to review my notes of Philosophy which our Regent had dictated unto me, I did confer them with the best Authors I could find, so that by my industry I was sufficiently instructed in every Science, for a man that would not make a particular profession of them.
In the midst of these various entertainments, I lived about a year in the greatest solitude in the world, and very seldom did goe out of doors, and walked then no further than on the old Banks which were near unto my lodging. I was only visited by two or three young Gentlemen with whom I was acquainted. I remember that one day there came with them one of this Country, whose name was Raymond, who some few days afterwards returned without any one in his company. Looking in my Coffer, after he was gone, I found my little Box empty, in which I had put at least threescore Crowns, I remembred that I left him alone in my Chamber, not suspecting him to be so light finger'd as he was. When ever I saw him, I spoke openly unto him what I though, and we came to very sharp words, which I followed with threats; In the end I demanded of him if our controversies on the next morning should be decided by the Sword, in some place out of the City? He answered me, that he could not then meet me, because he was very early to go out of Town according to his promise to some of his Companions, with whom he was to travell into Flanders: The next day I sought all over Paris for him, but could not find him, and since I never saw him, and do not know what is become of him.
O how great was my grief of heart to have lost my money, with which I intended to have appareld my self, being about to leave off my mourning habit! to write unto my Mother for more would be more hurtfull than profitable, for she would not be perswaded but that I had lost it at play, and would have sent me nothing but Reproofs. I received a Letter from her wherein she represented that I was poorer than I thought my self to be, and that my Father had left many debts to pay; She accused me also of negligence, that I had not looked out some place for my self as? promised her at my departure. I was constrained therefore to wear an old gray Sute which I had, & a Cloak of colour de roy, which had a long time lain by me. I was so ill accommodated, that there was none of any judgement but would have taken me for the Son of the brave Captain of the Port. Neverthelesse I did goe abroad more often than before, such a desire had I at that time to understand how all things were governed in the City, which was a thought that never troubled me when I was in the College.
On the day before St. Martins, I did repair to the Palace, where I was never but thrice before to buy Gloves. Being upon the stairs I saw a young man of my age coming down, of whom I had some knowledge when I was in the College, he was in a red Gown, I remembred that he had a good voice, and I believed that he was one of the Choristers of the Chapel, and he passing by, I had no more thought of him in that Relation.
[Page 20]Howsoever, if the throng of the people had not removed me from him, I would have saluted him with the Nickname that was given him in the College, and brought those ralleries unto his mind with which he was ordinarily upraided concerning his Father, who was one of the basest Usurers &. Extortioners in the world. Some dayes afterwards I had again the curiosity to return to that abominable place, and walking along the Gallery of the Mercers, I did see again this Sot in a gown faced with Velvet, & a Sattin Cassock, he was speaking to a handsome young Girl that did sell perfumes, and making as though he whispered in her ear, he did kisse her cheek, and plaid with her Brests. I was resolved then to understand what was the worth of my Companion, but seeing how he was imployed, I did at that time excuse him, and passing forward, I resolved to come more early the next day; And finding him not in that place, I walked from one side to another, and resolved to wander up and down in the severall turnings, where immediately I happened on some Chambers very obscure, and ill built, where I saw an infinite number of Scribes, some whereof searched the Rolls, others were writing, and from time to time did tell great sums of money, which did infinitely possesse me. I was amazed to observe with what speed they counted it; at the last I beheld my young Gallant to come out of the next Chamber, in the same equipage in which he was the day before. He was followed by a disconsolate Damoisel who held a Paper in her hand, and by an old Man of a good Countenance in a long Robe, who did speak unto him bareheaded, and with great Respect, although the Damoisel did not so much as turn her head aside to look upon him, but did sing to her self some part of a melancholly Ditty, which began thus, Alas! who shall hasten the time where I attend.
But because he did go with great hast, and I could not follow him, I advised with my self to call him by that Name which the Scholars gave him, conceiving that I who had such familiarity with him, might speak more freely to him than those who followed him. You, you, Tocaret, said I, whither do you run with so much hast? wherupon one of the tellers of the money taking notice to whom I spake, did come out of his place, and striking me with his fist, Impudent (said he) I will make you quiet enough; if I knew (Diminutive Clerk) to what Proctor you do belong, I would cause you to be soundly punished: If there were not many about him, who seemed to be all of them against me, I had undoubtedly revenged my self; but all that I could then doe, was to answer his words, and to tell him in my passion, that I was no Proctors Clerk, but a Gentleman. This made that wretched fellow to laugh with an open mouth, and say unto those who were about him, Observe but what a countenance of a Gentleman he bath, with his elbows out, and his Cloak that laughs at us, and all the world, in shewing its teeth. How! you infamous Wretch (said I) Do you reckon of Nobility but only by the habit? I had said more unto him, but that an honest young Man who carried a good quantity of Velvet under his arm, taking me by the hand did conduct me through the next Gallery, and said unto me, Have a care what you speak, you ought to respect the place where you are, and the persons to whom you speak. He is one of the Registers, whom you have abused. What is a Register? (said I) one who like a Griffon is alwaies scraping together with his Talons, he with his Talons scrapes every day Silver enough, which is laid forth upon the Table for him. He made answer to me, you are too scandalous. You have also, I know not by what Name, miscalled one of the Counsellors within. What? that young Man (said I) who passed by? I would fain have spoken with him; for the last time that I was in the College, where I received my education with him, be did steal from me my pens, my penknife, and my Note Book. I have certain proof of it, and I have a desire to reprove him for it. He who did speak to me, and was a Sollicitor, did advertise me to have a care of my self, in regard of the quality of the person. I made answer [Page 21]to him, What, do you say he is a Counsellor? Undoubtedly he hath more folly in his head than Counsel. The Sollicitor replyed, the Court would not have conferred that dignity on him, if it did not find him capable to receive it. I made answer, So it is most commonly observed, that he who is advanced to the greatest honours in the Vniversity, is commonly the greatest Asse, and every new office that he hath, doth serve but so much the more to declare his imperfections. Be not so vain, said the Sollicitor. I am not vain at all, said I; for by my birth I am one of the most noble in France, and he is but the Son of a base Merchant. His Place and Office doe ennoble him, said the Sollicitor. And how did he come by that place? said I. By his good Purse, said the Sollicitor. I made answer. And even the basest Abject in the world may have such a quality, and cause himself to be as much respected, as long as he hath mony to command. O good God! said I, what a shame is this? Where shall Virtue be now acknowledged? Having spoke those words, I did forsake the Sollicitor, and did go into a great Hall full of a world of people, who trotted up and down on this side, and on that, like pease boyling in a pot. For my self, if I had been carried into such a place when I was asleep, I should verily believe when I waked, That I was in Hell. One cried out, others domineer'd, some did run, some with great violence did carry others to prison. On no side could be seen the least shadow of content.
Having observed these sad examples of the brutishnesse of men, I return'd to my own Lodging, but so full of Indignation that I cannot expresse it. After Dinner, being at my Window, I descryed my young Coxcomb the Counsellor, passing through the Street, but in what Equipage think you? in the Equipage of a Signior. I was never more astonished. He had a Cloak of three-piled Velvet of a Carnation colour, his Breeches were of Velvet of the same colour, and his Doublet of White Sattin, his thigh was armed with a Sword of Miramont, and he was mounted on a barbed Steed, and followed by three lusty Lackeys. I enquired of my Host, if at Paris Men of the long Robe were also Men of the Sword. He made answer to me, that young Gentlemen, as was that Counsellor whom I beheld, did not take upon them the formality of the Gown, but only for a quality to gain them the more respect, & to procure them Wives with greater Dowries, and that their age leading them to the civilities of the Court, when they are once out of it, they are permitted to take the sword and the habit of a Cavalier.
Perceiving in what miserie I was, I did wish I had been of the Profession to which my Father did perswade me, but I conceived it would be a dishonor to be in the company of such vile people. At that time I did feel to the quick, the pricking thorns of my mi [...]fortune; for being cloathed with such poor habit, there was not any one who did esteem me, and in this forlorn condition, I durst not wear a Sword; for instead of serving to be a witnesse of my generous extraction, it would make me to be taken by the most sotish people of all the Cities in the Earth, for a lazie Vagabond. In the mean time, every day I suffer'd a thousand Indignities, I dare not say patiently, for I dare assure you, if Power had answered to my Will, I had throughly punished those stupid fellows that offended me.
One morning I entred into the Court of the Louvre, thinking it had been a place of Respect, where I should receive pleasure from the Variety of severall Objects, and not be baffled, as I had been at other places. As I did regard that pompous Edifice, looking sometimes on one side, and sometimes on the other, a Page, who observed by my action that I was not accustomed to come thither, supposing me to be a simple Novice, did take my hat by the Brim, and gave it such a twirl, that it turned eight times quite round my head; I had shewed him effectually who it was he had abused, but that behind him I observed ten or twelve Lackeys, who seemed to be there present to defend him. [Page 22]I told him that he did me wrong to touch me, since I never offended him; At that he and his Companions opened their mouths altogether, and called me Citizen, for it is a word of derision which that Kennell doth give to those whom they esteem to be simple Fellowes, in which number they comprehended all those who do not follow the Court. It is the infamy of this age, that those people who are so despicable and so abject that it is impossible to expresse them, should abuse a Name which hath been and is in so many Cities so passionately desired. Neverthelesse understanding the malice of their mistake, I took the boldnesse to intreat them to look more earnestly on him to whom they did addresse their words, assuring them they would find I am not the Man whom they did take me to be. And turning from them to be gone, they followed me with absurd laughter, and impertinent language, and demanded of me what I was, If I was not a Citizen. I made answer, I am that which you will never be, and which it is impossible that you can desire to be, because you have neither the courage nor the apprehension to be as I am. To speak in that manner to those ignorants was to speak Greek unto them, and I did repent my self that I took such Brutish things into my consideration, at whom I ought not to be angry although they should have spurn'd me with their feet because they are Creatures deprived of Reason, and have not the sence when they are chastised to understand, that it is because they should return no more unto their follies.
This consideration working in my Spirit, I retreated from them; but this cursed crew taking offence at the last words which I spake, did run after me to torment me. The Page making a semblance as if he would strike his staff upon the ground, did hit me so violently upon the Feet, that at every blow I leaped up as if I were cutting so many Capers. The Lackeys also being prepossessed with the simplicity of my deportment did assault me all at once, and there was one of them who affirmed that they must tosse me in a Blanket. Being excessively provoked at that word, I suffered my self to be transported to the first motions of choler, and retiring a little from them I did swear like a Waggoner wet quite thorough, and covered with Durt; Come forth and you dare unto me, and giving me but a Sword, Do you fall upon me all at once, You shall see if I fear you, or not, you vile puddle; you have no valor at all, but when altogether you assault one Man who hath no Armes to defend himself. If you have not the desire to gratifie me in letting me dy valiantly in my own defence, doe one of you kill me, for I shall no longer live but to my grief, and on the other side I have mis-fortunes enough, which do cause me to desire Death.
Their blind and stupid Rage was inflamed by these words, when a great lump of flesh covered with blew Sattin and gold lace did approach unto them. I know not on my faith whether it were a man or not, but I discovered the form of a Body, as for his Soul it was all brutish. He was a Baron, (as afterwards I understood) and was the Master of the little Page that did prosecute me; He said to the three buffles who stood with their hats in their hands, Tell me you Waggs, Is not my Page a gallant Boy? mark but the pleasant sport he makes, he is a Boy of Wit and Spirit. The Page hearing the praise which his Master gave him, did determine with himself to make that Virtue yet more manifest for which he did esteem him, and came unto me to give me a tweak on the Nose, but I thrust him back so violently that I thought I had thrown him on his back. The Baron who carryed an eye over him was angry, and twirling his Mustachioes with one hand, and threatning me with the other, he said unto me, You Sirrah look to your self, if you abuse my Page, I shall strap you as long as I can stand over you. I hearing him speak to me, as to those wretched and sordid Varlets, from whose condition I was as far removed as Heaven from Earth, did resolve with my self to shew him the error of his [Page 23]Judgement, and addressing my self unto his ignorant and most senselesse Honour, I shewed unto him that I was not offended at what he said, for it had no reference at all to me. There are none of quality who by your words will apprehend the little estimation you make of them. For my self, being in a condition more advanced than is theirs, and peradventure as eminent as your own, I find my self no ways concerned. In this case the poor habit which covers me, and which hath caused you to entertain a bad opinion of me, might hold it self injured, let that therefore decide the controversie by its self, I will have no part in it.
These words being pronounced (which without vanity give me leave to say were delivered with an extaordinary grace) they were heard by a Gentleman who walked near unto us, and perceived that such Reasons could not proceed from a vulgar Spirit, although the Baron the greatest Asse in the Court had not the apprehension to conceive what the least of my words did mean. The Gentleman therefore by little and little conjecturing that I had good parentage and education, did take pitty of me, and to draw me from the fury of those mercilesse Barbarians, did advise me not to goe forth at that Gate, at which I entred. I followed his Counsel, condemning a thousand times the Nobility of this age, who are followed by such unworthy Creatures, whose petulant rudenesse is so connived at by them, that it doth excite them to commit outrages against all manner of Persons.
But, alas, it was not by these people alone that I was so undervalued, and so ungently intreated, I was in the same manner abused by those who make profession even of Honour and of Modesty. In whatsoever place I was there was no Citizen would permit I should have so eminent a regard as himself. In the streets they would sometimes thrust me from the wall with their Elbows, to have me goe on the other side, and would call me Begger, if I testified my resentment by any sharp language to them. Nay which is more (observe but the extreme unhappinesse of poverty, which is always believed to be the Companion of Vice) a man one time having lost his purse in the Crowd, it was suspected that I had pick'd it, if by some words and actions I had not immediately caused every one of them to entertain a better opinion of me.
You will tell me that I cannot fall into those inconveniences, but only among some vain Worldlings, who passe their judgements according to the least apparences; but understand, that even those who had renounced the pomp and vanity of the world, did by a strange unhappinesse entertain the same opinion of me. A Frier, not knowing who they were, did suffer ten or twelve dissolute persons with plush Cloaks on their backs to enter into the Chapel, and also did not refuse admission to their Grooms, but as for my self who would have followed them, he immediately did shut the door upon me. I cryed out at the Grate, My Father, let me speak one word unto you; When he came nearer to me I thus proceeded, I am not come hither to admonish you, neither am I in a capacity so to do; neverthelesse I assume the boldnesse to speak unto you what I know, which is, that your Church ought to be the Image of the celestial house of our great God, and that you ought to permit the poor to take the best place, as it is in that happy mansion. Well, well, said I and smiling did proceed, I see when I would come into your Chapel, the better in that place to entertain my Devotion, I must buy me a Cloak lined with plush, or take one up at the Brokers. The Frier was ashamed, and because he made hast to leave me he heard not my last words, whereupon at the last I raised my voice higher, which redounded more unto his shame, for many who were round about me did perfectly hear, and I found by their smiles that they did approve my words, and mocked at him who so ill observed the rules of his Order in not cherishing the poor. The Frier neverthelesse had committed a Sin which he could not expiate but by a severe Repentance.
[Page 24]Consider yet a misfortune greater than the former, Those who even knew of what Family I was descended, did not intreat me more respectfully. The little Youths the Children of Citizens, whō I knew in the College, and had thē there at my own Law, meeting me in the streets, would look upon me as if they never saw me before; and although in a great humility I did salute them, to renew my antient acquaintance, they would only put their hand unto their Hat, and the proud resalutation did come with an ill will from them, so presumptuous they were to see themselves covered with Silk, and to have their Grooms better cloathed than my self. I did go to visit some of them, who seemed to be the most courteous, and with whom I had been most familiar; To speak the truth, they entertained me well in their Lodgings, being constrained to it by the Rules of Courtesie, but they would none of them take the pains to see me themselves, to recompence my visit with their own, conceiving that they should debase themselves too much to visit a man so ill appointed as my self, and that it would be a dishonour to them, if I were seen in their Company.
If by chance I did meet with any who discoursed on some subject where I had the meanes to make the fruits of my studies more apparent, I therein was still infortunate, for I durst not open my mouth, knowing that the ill opinion which already was conceived of me, would cause all which I should speak to be misprised, and when I began any discourse, I was not listned unto, and one or other would constantly interrupt me.
In the mean time my habit every day did grow worse and worse, and I found so often such new Rents, that I knew not which way to redresse them. I had laid forth all my stock to pay my Pension to my Landlord, I had owed it him a long time, and the remainder was not enough to buy Stuff to piece my Doublet and my Breeches, I made fast my skirts that were unsowed with pins, and my Buttons being for the most part fallen off, I made use of some broken points to perform their office. The rest I covered with my cloak in the best manner that I could, to the end that the other defects about me might not be perceived. At the last I was enforced to wear again my mourning Doublet, because it was better than my grey one.
I was infinitely sensible of the affronts which I received in that condition, and to avoid them, I was inforced to stay within doors all the Winter, although it were a grievous punishment unto me; for after some weeks, I had seen a young and a most beautifull Wonder at her Fathers Door in that Street that joyneth to St. James, and her attractions with such advantage had triumphed over my liberty, that I did nothing else but sigh after her. But what should I doe to have come out of my bondage? Love is a mortal Enemy to Poverty. I durst not shew my self to Diana, (for that was the Name of the Queen of m [...] heart) I must be accommodated in another fashion, for she had received some Impressions in relation to me, which were not favourable. In my Solitude I had no other imployment, but to think of her, and that was the Cause that my passion did inflame it self the more; I was such a fool, that I took some pleasure to passe every Evening by her door, although it was to me the most unprofitablest trouble in the world.
In that time I could have joyned in the same Trade with some deboist Scholars of the City, by whom I found it was an easie thing in a short time to supply my self with new habiliments, for every night they did nothing else but steal Cloaks in a street in the Suburbs where were some scattered houses, but I could never condescend to make my Spirit to stoop to such an infamous action; I therefore entertained the Acquaintance of certain Philosophers who promised me Mountains of Gold, by a way lawfull and honourable; neverthelesse at the last I abandoned their conversation, because I found they were but sellers of smoak, who were unwilling to communicate themselves unto me, because having nothing to lose, their trompery would be of no use in my behalf. In the beginning [Page 25]I was at least as subtile as themselves, and making them believe that I had a round Sum of money coming out of the Country, with which I would assist them in buying that which was necessary for the perfecting of their great work, I did invite them to teach me many of the Secrets of their Natural Magick, which in several occasions I have since made use of: And this was some profit that I received in frequenting their Company,
Afterwards I addicted my self to another study, which was Poetry, in our Tongue, with which I was so much taken, that I shall for ever be inchanted with it; my ordinary imployment was to make verses on the hatred which I did bear to the iniquity of the times, and on my love to gentle Diana; But. Good God, what works were they in comparison of those which I am now able to perform! All I did was after the mode of the College, and there appeared in it neither neatnesse nor judgement; I might safely swear that at that time I had never read a good piece in verse, and the Authors from whom I might learn any thing were unknown unto me, as well by my own negligence, as my Regents, so that all which I could doe, was to admire what was sung by the old Poets of Greece, in whose works we do find so many remarkable faults, because that all proceeded from their invention, and they had nothing to lay before them as a Pattern, and one thing at the same time cannot be invented and made perfect.
Take notice in no place better than in this, that the Muses are pleased to dwell with Poverty, you shall seldom see a rich man to delight in making verses, And the great possessions of the Goods of Fortune, are the cause that men delude themselves, and neglect to possesse the endouments of the mind; Neverthelesse, for Poesie there is nothing more pleasing to the Spirit, or more usefull for Men, in putting a great distinction betwixt our selves, and Beasts.
It was in that time, alas, that I beheld my self frustrated of all Hopes which I had a long time nourished in my Soul. I traced my adventures over and over, to see if I could there meet with any that might parallel with those great personages whose History I had read, and I imagined that undoubtedly I should find an issue equal unto theirs, trusting in my courage and the inclination which I had to follow whatsoever was virtuous: Oh how blind I was as not to fee the infinite obstacles which did oppose my good fortune, although I had a valour more admirable than any of the antient Knights. If I had not laid down on Paper the transportations of my choler, I had inevitably fallen into the most violent Despair of the world. Was it not wonderfull, and did it not cure me against the rules of Nature? After I had described my evill, I did find it no more so violent upon me, although I perceived the effects thereof most lively represented. Will any Man of Reason now deny that Apollo was esteemed the God of Physick, as well for the remedy which his verses do give unto the desperate wounds of the Soul, as for what his herbs do give to the diseases of the Body, which he causeth to grow when he taketh upon him the quality of the Sun to make the earth fruitfull?
So much had Francion spoke, when his courteous Host locking his hand in his, did say unto him, It is enough for this time, I perceive it groweth late, I am afraid you afflict your self with too much speaking, and with those words be caused him to cease; but before he would take his leave of him he did entertain him yet a little longer, and said unto him, that truly he had been injurious to himself, by indeavouring to hinder himself from the further knowledge of his Pedantick adventurrs; but Sir, said he, I believe you endured torment enough for the losse of your Silver, if I remember it aright you told me that his name was Raymond who took it from you, would you make him suffer for it, if you could find him out? I professe unto you (said Francion) that as often as I remember the miseries which he made me to endure, my rage doth kindle as red against him as ever, for his fact was extremely odious, and [Page 26]the more, because he was descended of an honourable Family, and of the richest in France. The Signior of the Castle having a Custom with him not usual, of which few can find out the Cause, did say unto him, That it was possible that this Raymond had taken his money in a wanton humor, and not for necessity, intending to conceal himself from his Parents, and to lead a deboyst life in Flanders, and therefore if Francion would look after him, he would endeavour to inform him if he were in Burgundy, or not, that so he might call him to a strict accompt for it; but Francion made answer, That it would be the most ridiculous thing in the world, if he should witnesse that he carried about him the Remembrance of such antient offences; his Host neverthelesse promised him that he would inquire, If in Burgundy, or thereabouts, there were any Gentleman, who is, or hath been known by the Name of Raymond, that he might understand at least what was become of him who robbed him. Speaking those words, he did bid him Good Night, and did intreat him to dispose himself to give him on the next Morning an Account of the residue of his life. After that he did betake himself to his Rest, having received great satisfaction to hear such a variety of subjects where Instructions were contained for several sorts of people; for though that all the world is not a Pedant, yet the Actions of the Pedant Hortensius are not particular to himself. Francion also did lively represent the sottishnesse of those People, who do esteem of none but of those only who are richly habited, and especially the Impertinence of the Courtiers, who generally do disesteem of Citizens, although oftentimes they are better Men than themselves. We may see also the errors of Youth ill trained up, and removed from the observation of their Parents: And wheresoever we cast our eyes, we may observe the generosity of the spirit of Francion, which never did abandon him. He whom he entertained with his brave adventures, had in his bed the leisure to think of it, and did receive from thence an absolute Contentment. And we may take no lesse our selves, if we will be industrious to make use of it: In pursute whereof, in the next Book we shall observe the Vanity of Poets, and of the Authors of the present Time, lively represented. The Extravagances which Love causeth in Youth, shall also have their place in it, and in all that, as in the Acts of a good Comedy, we may see how Pleasure and Instruction goe hand in hand together.
THE FIFTH BOOK OF THE COMICAL HISTORY OF FRANCION.
WHen the Sun had restored again the Day, The Signior of the Castle being already attired, failed not to see if Francion had taken good rest that night, to the end he might know if he were able to finish the rehearsal of his several Fortunes. Being willng to improve their time, their salutations were the shorter. Francion, although he found the pain of his head to be much asswaged, yet he determined to keep his Bed for that day, the better to recollect his strength, and, having no desire to rise, he continued the course of his History as I shall represent unto you.
Sir, We left off yesterday at the pleasure which I did take in Poetrie, It is requisite, that returning to that Subject, I should inform you, that they did put into my hands certain works which were terse & elaborate enough, according to which I fashioned those Poems which afterwards I composed; I was told of a Book newly come forth, the Author whereof was very famous, which I determined with my self to buy, to learn by that how I ought to write according to the Times, for ingenuously I do confesse, I did not understand what I had to do. Having learn'd that the Stationer who sold that Book did live in Saint Iames his Street, I repaired thither, and my curiosity being declared, he took the pains to shew me an infinite number of French Books, the names of which I had never heard of before; I had not money enough to purchase so much Merchandize, wherefore I bargain'd only for that Book which at first I had a desire to buy, having borrowed money for that purpose. Neverthelesse I did not forbear to turn over all those books which were upon the Counter; when behold there name into the Shop a very young Man with a pale and lean Countenance, staring with his eyes in a very strange posture, he was apparelled in such a wretched habit that I had no fear at all that he should laugh at mine, so that before him I did speak very freely to the Stationer, without caring who did hear me. Tell me (said I) if there be any one in this age who hath the reputation of a good Poet, I have always believed that there are none who excell therein, because they do addict themselves but to the cadence of the words, and unto meer riming only. In what an error are you? (said the Bookseller unto me) Have I not shewed you some admirable pieces composed by Authors now living? but it may be that you do not esteem the new manner of these Writers, and do like of nothing but what is antient, and solid; I know not (said I) if they write better now than heretofore, and cannot discern when [Page 2]I make Verses, whether they be of the new fashion or of the old. The young Man turning his head unto me, and shewing the greatest part of his teeth in an undecent laughter, I understand then (Sir) said he, that you make Verses. I made answer, I add words unto words on the subjects which present themselves unto my Fant'sy, but they are so ill ordered, that I know not whether I may call the Work a piece of Poetry, or no. He replyed, That I did speak that out of the humility of my modesty, and intreated me to shew him some of my Composures. I made answer, That I durst not give him a sight of any of those pieces, which peradventure were not according to the Rules which I ought to follow, and of which I had not the least knowledge. Well, Sir, said he, I will tell you as a Friend what I think of them, and possibly you may be glad that you have had conference with me; for there are not above three in Paris who can boast they have more judgement in Verse than my self. Those words could not perswade me to comply with his desires; whereupon he departed, having taken two or three Books with him under his Cloak, and gave no money to the Stationer for them: I asked him how he could thrive, if be parted with his books in that manner? I do lend him them (said he) and am constrained so to doe to a number of such Writers as himself, who meet every day in my shop to communicate and compare their Poems with one another, and here they have such great assemblies, that there is not in all France again any place, which more justly deserves to bear the name of Parnassus. What profit (said I) do you receive by their Conferences? The Merchant laughing, did reply, The losse of my Books which they borrow, and never return again. I made answer, If I were as you, I would drive away such Customers. I care not much, (said he) for there is alwayes one or other amongst them that is giving me some Copy to print, by which means my shop is made famous.
After this Discourse, I informed my self of all the Poets of the Time, whose Names I learned, and found moreover that he who made the Work which I came to buy, was in good earnest the most renowned of them all. The Stationer then being willing to oblige me, did promise me, that if I would give him one of my Poems, he would shew it to them, (without naming the Author) to know what faults they could find in them. The desire I had to do well, to the approbation of the whole world, did cause me to accept his Profer, and on the next Morning I brought him that piece, which of all that ever I did write, did please me best. It was shewed to the whole Assembly of Poets, who found as many faults in it as there were words. The Stationer did me the pleasure to give me an account of them; I seriously considered of it, and finding they had good reason for what they had done, I resolved with my self to fall no more into such grosse mistakes.
To speak the truth, their Rules did tend only to make Poetry more sweet, more flowing, and more fill'd with judgement. Who is he that would refuse to see her in this Perfection? It will be objected, That great is the travell and the difficulty to compose Verses after their Lawes, but if they should not be observed, every one would be tampering in that Art, which thereby would suffer in its excellence.
Some time afterwards I had a perfect knowledge of these things, for I was often in the shop of this Book-seller, where I came acquainted with all the Poets. After that my Cloak had rubb'd on theirs, I knew immediatly after that maner I ought to compose my Verses. They never reproved me for above two or three faults, and in correcting them, I abstained from those which were more grosse. I would not too much oblige my self unto them, although the little which they said unto me was not enough to inform the judgement of a Learner. I must here acquaint you what a Generation of people they are; There were some of them who had been Pedants in the College; Others came I know not from whence, being cloathed like Ushers; and not long afterwards they [Page 3]found the means to be habited like Gentlemen, but immediatly they returned to their first ragged condition, whether their Garments were borrowed, or whether they had sold them to provide for their daily bread; Some of them did never rise higher, nor fall lower, but did keep at a stay, and made no greater a show on one day than on another; Others lived on what was given them for their Copies, and others did expend the little wealth they had, in expectation to meet with some Signior who might take him into his service, or procure him a Pension from the King. There was not one of them who was the Master of a great and of a clear Fant'sy; Their Inventions were all but Imitations, or were so weak that they needed a Supporter. They had nothing in them besides the smoothnesse of Language, neither was any one of them absolute in that, for if the most experienced amongst them did eschew one error, he did chop into an other. Many of them did nothing else but translate Books, and when they composed any thing of themselves, they would commit ridiculous absurdities. It is remarkable, that most of them became Poets by infection, having altogether haunted the Companies of those men who did exercise themselves in that faculty; for there is no Disease that is more catching, than is that of Poetry. I could not but lament these miserable Creatures, they did write upon the imagination and confidence of their own abilities, and delightfully did deceive themselves; Neverthelesse there are many Books of their writing which at this day are most highly esteemed, but I will tell you, It is for want of better. We must look on that which is presented to our eys, and for my self, I have somtimes been inforced to read them, finding nothing else to divert me. There are two or three Romances which are counted good pieces, and are highly esteemed, but let me lose my life, if I cannot show in every one of them faults worthy of the Lash.
It is true, that although I used all my indeavours to be claborate, yet some of these common Scriblers were oftentimes more esteemed than my self; but these Men, to cry up their Reputation, did make use of some subtilties to which I scorned to debase my self. As they are a long time in performing what they are about, so they have the leisure to spread abroad the Report thereof, and to cause their Works to be desired, by the praises which are given to them, without the least sight of them, and afterwards bringing them forth into the light, they render themselves agreeable to some great Personage, who [...]ries them up at the Court. Moreover, they have for the most part some Poetaster at their Devotion, to maintain that they have the Empire over all the wits in the world, & that they are confident they are not deceived in it, for there ar some at Court who seem to make it their businesse to imploy all the Authors of the Time. Their Names are read in every Book, and without them their Works would never be printed, for otherwise they would bankrupt the Stationer who undertakes to print them; so that by this they doe like the Wren, who to mount unto the clouds doth hide himself under the wings of the Eagle. Nay, which is more, our Authors are so vain, that they themselves do make Prefaces, and letters of Commendation, in which so excessively they do praise themselves, that, beyond those praise, we know not what to give unto a Deity, and this they cause to be printed under the Names of some of their Friends, who although he be eloquent enough, can never sufficiently declare his merits. If they desire any to make Commendatory verses on their Works, they may well answer them, What need is there that I should take the pains to praise you, you praise your self a hundred times better than I know how to do? There is no greater Presumption in the world, than what is practised amongst these people, and I my self have been informed, that one amongst them aspiring to be the Tyrant, and desiring that all the rest should pay Homage to him, did say, There are abroad some poor rebellious Spirits who are not yet come in to doe their Reverence, but those are but petty Country Palatines who will not acknowledge [Page 4]their Emperour, I shall make them to submit whether they will or no; When this was related to me, I was in the full assembly of these miserable Scriblers, where I had a mock for every one of them, and moreover said unto them. He amongst you may esteem himself to be the King of Wits who hath an ambition thereunto, but let him know that it is I who am the great Cham, the Prester Iohn, the Sultan, the Sophy, and the great Mogull of all the wits not only of Europe, but of all the world to boot.
This pleasant vaunt did make them all to laugh, neverthelesse they, had so base a Spirit, that they ceased not to respect him who still would domineer over them and all the world. We were then in the Stationers Shop in Saint Iames his Street, where they began to make a great mystery to write a poor Letter, for I must tell you, that being not able to exercise their wits on any other Subject, they contrived to make Epistles, propounding to themselves to become glorious by that means, and they so much suspected their own invention, or else did need the invention of others, that they caused the most particular things to be printed which passed between their friends and themselves, insomuch that I did speak unto them in an upbraiding mirth, that I would advise one of them to travell into Italy, another into Germany, and the third into Turky, that they might find matter enough to transcribe great volumes of Letters for the Presse; And as I observed in one of their Books, that the beginning and the end of every Epistle was full of long repetitions, I said unto the Bookseller, to render things more true, and not to omit any thing, the Author should have put down the directions to every particular street, and the names of the streets, and the signes of every house, and whatsoever was to be paid for the carriage of the Letters, because he had made a collection of several small sums, and having thus put them all into one, he might have payed himself both for the price of his Book, and for the portage of the Letters altogether. This invention seemed very gainfull unto him, and I professe unto you, that he was not unwilling to put it in practice. But to return to my Story you must understand that as his Shop was the place where all the Letters were read of these new Epistlers, who believed they had pick'd open the lock of the treasury of well speaking; all those who were present were transported to see this new Packet of which I have spoken.
In the end, after divers conventions of these Scriblers, those Letters, nay rather those wonders were read, which were the most extravagant and the most impertinent ones that were ever heard. He who did read them did pronounce the words after the tone of a Comedy, and he seemed to act as he did speak. The Auditors stood round about him, who one after another did stretch forth their necks like so many Cranes, and at every clause with an amazement, and an inward transportation, they rouled their eyes in their heads like a Bell-weather when he is angerd. The most apparent of them at every period in a tone of admiration did cry out Acute and Excellent, and immediatly the next unto him did repear the same words and so they did all one after another until they came to my turn, who as well for mockery as for complacence was constrained to do the like, so that nothing almost was to be heard but the repetition of these words Acute and Excellent. I conceived to my self that I was at the Eccho of Charenton, which repeateth seven times that which is spoken.
After that there was a Poet who recited his verses, and I took much pleasure to behold his countenance, for at the end of every Stanza he constantly turned his eyes to his audience to observe by their countenance what was their Judgement on his verses; And observe this (which peradventure is more than ever you marked before) All Poets do the same when they read to any their own works. After this, they had great disputations amongst themselves for very trivial things, omitting allogether those which were of importance. Their [Page 5]contentions were, if we ought to speak, It were better; or, It had been better, or which was best to say, knowing Men, or, Men of knowledge; Or if, in verse, hand ought to rime in close with mend, or Realm with seam; And those in the mean time who maintained that they were but so many faults, did comm [...]more grosse ones themselves, for they made perishable to rime with fable, and [...]ew with virtue. All their opinions were taken from the Tenents of some old Dotard, whom they followed altogether, and especially they pleased themselves in discoursing of some barbarous forms of speech which were very common with them. Afterwards they came to speak of some antient words, which to them seemed to be very good, and to be of great use in our language, but they durst not make use of them themselves, because that he amongst them who was their Coriphaeus had expresly forbid them. Sometimes they would discourse of things very commendable, which they would refer to their Master Ignoramus, whose approbation they did take to be their Warrant, both in this & on any other fant'sy which was to be authorized. At the last there was one amongst them more hardy than the rest, who affirmed that we ought to take a particular account of all the old words which were made new, and of the new ones which were invented, and make use of them accordingly as they should be found expedient, & that also we should cut off from the Orthography all the Letters that were superfluous, and in certain places out in others more convenient, of which there may use be made in the pronunciation, for he said, It is certain that Men did speak before they did write, and by consequence did form their writing according to their words, and invented Letters which being joyned together had the sound of words, I am therefore of opinion that we ought to do so, and not to insert any Letters that are unprofitable, For to what end do we do it? You will tell me it is because that most of our words are derived from the Latin, I shall answer, that it is one of the reasons that may induce us not to follow it. We ought to shew the richnesse and native beauty of our own language, and that it hath nothing of a stranger in it. If one should make you a pair of Gloves with six Fingers, you could not wear them without trouble, and besides it would seem ridiculous to you, and to all that do behold them; for Nature must either make you a new Finger to your Hand, Or the Glover must take away his supernumerary Finger. Observe therefore, that if in our pronunciations we do that which is most natural, because it is not so easie to pronounce the words according to the Letters, and the Letters themselves are unprofitable, it is therefore found expedient to cut them off. In any other Tongue you shall not find that same exuberance of Letters, but if there were, evill examples are not so much to be followed, as is Reason. Consider that the Latin Tongue it self (from whence to speak the truth the greatest part of ours is derived) hath not one Letter but what is usefull.
By the Death of Destiny (said I) this is a good Speech indeed, and tendeth to the ease and advantage of the publick; I allow your reasons and commend them, but where are the Instructions that shall direct us to follow them, farr to cut off ill customes which are superfluous in our manners, and not dream at all to cut off Letters which are poor and innocent, and do no man any hurt. As for the new words which you speak of, we shall no sooner introduce them, but the People and such as they are observing their novelty, and that they are extraordinary, will laugh at us for them: But for the old words, I give my voice, that you shall be made choice of on the part of the French Authors, and that a new Chamber be erected, to represent to others the usefulnesse of your opinions, and to perswade the King that he ought to cause it to be put in practice by all his Subjects.
After I had spoken these words, and administred to every one a Subject of [Page 6]Laughter, one who was the most gallant Man of them all, did conclude, that all which had been spoken did not any thing conduce to the preservation of our Bodies, and taking us from our Books, he did bring us to the glasses and pots in one of the best Taverns of Paris, where he entertained us to the last penny of all his stock. To speak the truth, there is not a generation of Men iesse covetous than Poets, so great a desire they have to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven, where it is as difficult for a Rich Man to enter, as it is for a Cable to passe through the eye of a Needle; They therefore swallow their wealth all at once, like a pill, to make hast thither with the greater ease. You ought not to enquire how deep we did drink, nor what were the Jests that did passe amongst us. But because I did swear once or twice. By the Death of Destiny, as I did before in St. Iames his Street, they demanded of me, wherefore I was so bold; for they said, I did but mock them with it, who could not compose one Stanza wherein they made not mention of Fate or Destiny, the better to accommodate their Verse. By the Head of Fate, (said I) you are great Ignorants, and do not understand your own Profession. Belly of the three Sisters! Do you not observe that I swear like a Poet. You your selves, who do no more believe in God than Diagoras, or Vaninius, do yet swear by him at every word, as if you were such Devout Christians that you would alwayes have his Name in your mouths. Observe that I did speak this unto them, because the greatest part of them were Libertines; but their free and gallant humor (and which in this particular is no doubt to be commended) did not take the least offence at my reproaches. Certainly they have in them many better things than are to be found in the Vulgar, and more especially in this, that they did not the lesse esteem me to see me so ill accommodated. But to ballance this, they had Vices again as insupportable. They were the most fantastical and inconstant people in the world. Nothing is more frail than their Friendship; for lesse than nothing they will melt away, like the Ice of one night. Nothing again is so uncertain as their judgement, it changed at every turn of Discourse, and on Occasions most unreasonable. Their Communication would be often so extravagant, as if they had been hardly indued with natural sense. When I recited my Verses to them, they would tell me to my face they were the best in the world, but I being gone, they would speak ill of them to the first Man they met with, and in the same manner they would serve one another, so that by their own means the Reputation of every one of them miscarried. Moreover, they did all addict themselves to write with too much affectation, and fant'sied nothing more. Walking in the streets, they alwayes muttered to themselves between their teeth, and had some Song or other by the end. All their Entertainments were only on that Subject. Being to describe the Heroick Actions of some great personages, they would not inflame their own Spirits with the least Generosity, and not so much as one Action that was commendable would dignify their own persons. Besides, they were the most presumptuous people in the world, as I already have affirmed. Every one of them did believe he did better than all the rest, and would be most impatient if they did not follow his opinion. I perceived by that, how much reason the Vulgar had to misprize them, and oftentimes I said within my self, that they made profession of a great Art, of which they were unworthy, and on which they did pull the hatred of the people by their ill practising it. They became afterwards so odious to me, that I endeavoured to avoyd them with as much diligence as a Pilot doth the Quicksands
I had only the desire to preserve the acquaintance of one named Musidorus, who was he who first of all did meet me in the Book-sellers shop, because I conceived I might truly say that he was of a good disposition, and me-thought he had something in his Extravagance which rendered his Company agreeable to mine, who neverthelesse would not frequent it, but to raise delight by it. [Page 7]Having met him in the street, he acquainted me where his lodging was, and I promised to give him a Visit. He would never tell me before where he lay, and without all doubt the Cause was, because he lay in a Garret, and had no Bed but the cold Floor, nor Pillow but a Stone, for which he was beholding to a Mason. His Equipage was so miserable, and so extreamly poor, that I took compassion on him. It was an Axiom not to be disputed, that when he did wear a Sword, he did on that day wear no Garters, for his Garters were his Scarf, in which he carried his Sword. There was but one Moneth in the year in which he lived not in extreme poverty, and then it was, when to gain him some sustenance he sold fish-books, if he had mony to buy them. I remember in that time that one of his Acquaintance who would be sure to have him to run himself out of breath, did bring unto him the Practice of the Chanters at the Newbridge, & with all told him, That if he would make Songs for them, he should be sure to be well payed, and no M [...]n should know any thing of it. Musidorus seeing the profit to be sure enough, did not refuse the profer, but received a piece of six Souse in Earnest of one of the Wives of the Musicians, and sate up all that Night to make his Verses, and in the Morning very early did give them to her. Immediatly a Tune was set unto them, and they were sung at the Bridge Foot, but no body would buy them. Those who sold Hooks did understand nothing of them, they were not according to their stile, insomuch that the Woman did bring them back again, and demanded her mony: But he refusing to deliver it, you may imagine with how many, and with how loud Injuries he was assaulted. She told him, she would be even with him, and that he should hear further from her, and did rail against him, calling him all to naught, alleging that none would buy his Songs, they were full of Conjuration and of the Names of Devils, And she had reason so to do, for neither she, nor the Courtiers of the Brazen Horse could understand his Madrigals, nor what he meant by Bacchus the thigh-born Infant, or by the three Fatal Spinsters. Neverthelesse Musidorus did go on muttering to himself.
The rest of his Verse was incomparable, and I would fain call it to mind, to give you a greater contentment. Neverthelesse I must inlarge my Account upon his Poverty. It was reported, that he was constrained to seek out some old pieces of rotten Timber to warm him, and having bought an old logge, he was in the way homewards overtaken by two Men of his own acquaintance, to whom he said, That he had met with some dissolute persons who would have beaten him, and was therefore inforced to buy that piece of Wood to make his party good against them; And having covered it with his Cloak, be passed through the Street, and incountring with three Lackeys that assaulted him, he said, I believe these unhappy boyes have a desire to break my Lute; whereupon it was told me, that they did beat him in good earnest, and that his cloak falling off his shoulders, they discovered the burden which he carried, and made use of it to beat him the more soundly with it.
When I met him (calling to mind his former poverty, and the manifold affronts, which by reason of his poverty he had received) I was amazed to see him, for he was become quite another man than heretofore hee had been. I could not imagine what secret hee had used to change the Physiogmony of his Fortune. Hee was most [Page 8]brave in his apparel, and I began much to envy his good Fortune: I believed that he had found out the Philosophers Stone, and that by his means I might become rich, if I would but court him with my service, insomuch that one morning I arose before the Sun, only to wait upon him, and not to fail to give him a salutation before he was gone forth. I found him in bed, for you are to understand that the greatest part of these Gentlemen do seldom rise until it be eleven of the Clock, and that most of their verses are composed when they are in bed. When I was in his Chamber, and demanded pardon for my early visit, he testified unto me, that I did him much honour, and opened all the Casements to let in the day light, whereby he might receive the better advantage to dresse himself. I observed then, that instead of a Night Cap he had winded the Linings of his Breeches about his head, and that all the moveables of his Chamber were reduced to a little stool of three Feet, and to a Coffer of Wood which served for a Table, Cupbord, and Stool: The Teek of his Bed was of Stuff, but so old and used, that it was impossible to discern of what colour it had been, and was gnawed by more Rats and Mice than were in that great fight described by Homer. All this caused me to judge that the riches of Musidorus were not so great as I conceived, and that the little which he had he had put upon his back to make the fairer outside.
As I was on that thought he took me off from my meditation, by an extravagant cry which he made in calling out unto his Servant, Ho Calcaret, I am about to rise, Bring me my Silk stockings of the Correction and amplification of the Inamout'd Nymph, Give me my Breeches of great Olympus, and my Doublet of the Marygold, I doubt not but my Cloak of the Lawrels of Triumph will come after them in good time. These appellations did so amaze me that I could not find out the explication, For neither the Nymphs, nor the Heaven, nor the plants, were either Doublet or Breeches, nor yet Stuff to make them. My only conceit was that he had some Fashion, or Colour, or Stuff, which were new and unknown, and so called by him; Afterwards having called for his Garters of Celadon, and his Roses of Parthenice, I was so curious that I demanded of him the signification of those words, when he, making a faint smile which did not passe so far as his Mustachioes, did reply unto me, Why Sir, Do not you understand what I speake? Know then, that my honest labour doth oftentimes procure me some small sum of Silver, which I do imploy to cloath my self, and the better to know and enjoy my habiliments, I do call them by the names of the Books which I have written, and sometimes of the Silver which I have payed for them. If you please to take the pains to travel to the Palace, you shall hear those Books cryed which I have named, and for which, not long since, I have been payed. They are at this present the entertainments of the most beautifull part of the world, and there is no wayting Gentlewoman so low ro so high in understanding, who desireth not to read them to learn to complement by them. But what? Do you not think well that the Booksellers should give us some recompence for our labour; Are not we so well bottomed as the Advocats who will be payed for what they write? Understand, that if ever there was any restraint of shame in that consideration, it is now all taken away, since a Marquis hath discovered the way unto us, and although the money was given to the Grooms of his Chamber, as a recompence of the Courtesie, yet it turned to the profit of the Master; it did exempt him from paying for that time any more wages to his Servants. As for that Author which you know, who imagineth that he sleepeth in the Arms of Eloquence, and that his works are Children who will provide for their own marriage. Do you believe although he is a rich man that he gave away his Book for nothing▪ No, no, he sold it at a good rate, and I could name unto you many others who have done the like: For my self I am of that number, and do believe that I shall merit praise by it, for if my Books were worth nothing there is not any one would buy them.
I could answer nothing to those words, and began seriously to consider with [Page 9]my self the misery of that poor Scholar, who only made Books to procure him a lively hood. I then began to sweat that we ought not to wonder at all, that Books for the most part were worth so little, for making them as big as they can, according to the sum of money they desire to have, they chop in many things which are unworthy to be printed, and moreover they do write with so much hast that they commit an infinite number of faults for want of consideration.
His little Lackey having at the last brought him his Cloathes, he did rise, when behold at the same time a Poet one of his Friends did enter into the Chamber, to whom he said that he would shew him a Copy of verses which he had made the day before▪ On those words he pulled out of his Pocket a Paper which was as greasie as the Leaves of an old Masse Book, but reading the first Stanza he said unto us, Gentlemen, I beseech you excuse me, for I must do that which neither Kings nor Emperours can do by their Ambassadours. I use unto you no Ceremony at all, you know the honest liberty which is now in fashion at the Court. And, on those words having left us, he was about one quarter of an hour at the Privy, where, his Spirits wandring amongst the flowers of his poetry, he had quite forgot us. But returning at last he said unto us, Gentlemen, Let us goe on with my verses, and speaking those words he presented us with a nasty Paper eaten round about, and in the middle of it a soft and a thich spot of yellow, which did so surprize us that we knew not whether to laugh, or to be angry. But he having recovered his Spirits which his imagination had preoccupyed, did acknowledge that it was only a wast and a foul paper which he had brought unto us instead of his Verses, and said unto us, Gentlemen, Excuse my oversights, you are both of my profession, you know that the strength of our imagination doth sometimes so violently possesse us, that we know not what we doe our selves. I have brought hither another Paper than that which I did promise, I will go look out that in which my verses were written.
Speaking those words he returned from whence he came, but he found not the Paper which he looked for, by a mistake he had wiped his Posteriors with it. In the mean time I could not but laugh excessively, and his friend being discontented at it, did say unto me. What ayl you Sir? we have seen nothing extraordinary. It is not long since (I remember) that Musidorus did commit the like merry mistake. He came from the Privy with the defiled Paper in his hand, and in the multiplicity of other thoughts, conceiving, it to be his Hand kerchief he did wipe his beard with it. He is very subject to such transportations of Spirit, and oftentimes takes one thing for another: Being one day at the Table of a Grand Signior, thinking to spit on the ground, and to put a piece of meat that was commended to him on his Trencher, he did spit on his Trencher, and did let the meat fall, to the ground. As the Poet did speak these words Musidorus returned and not finding the Paper, was constrained to repeat his verses by heart. After that, we disputed of a Mask that was to be danced at the Court, on which subject he told us that he had undertake to write something, although he was not yet payed for it. I conceived with my self it was very requisite that I should attempt to write something on that Subject the better to be acquainted with the fashions of the Court, and without making semblance of any thing, I enquired who was the Lady that was to represent the Queen, determining to make some Verses for her.
Some dayes afterwards having composed them, it was my Fortune to encounter with a Gentleman that had a part in the charge of the Mask, who much approved my Design. I caused then certain Copies which I had composed to be printed, and the day in which the Mask was to be danced, being come, I repayred to the Louvre with my Verses under my Arm, having at least three hundred Copies of them well printed, and set forth in the best manner [Page 10]that possibly I could, so that I was at a great charge in the performance; but the honour which I hoped to receive for the composing of so brave a Work, did cause me to make no reckoning of my cost or labour. You are to understand, that I was so glorious in my own conceit, that I seemed to be a person very necessary to the State, and that to serve the Kings, as I did in the Mask, was to serve him in a businesse of the greatest importance. I acquainted all whom I knew of it, and some whom I did not know, but more especially an Advocate of my Country, who being turned out of his place of a Lieutenant im the Election of a City, for some folly which he had committed, was now come to dwell in Paris, hoping that a Proctor of the Court who was his Kinsman, would get some practise for him. He had so great a desire to see this brave Mask, of which I had told him so many wonders, that he was resolved he would venture hard, but he would find admission to it. He believed that he might enter as easily as into the Showes at the Fair of St. Germans, which he had seen not long before for a Souse. Moreover he determined to take with him his Wife and Children, with their Nurse, because that courtesy is common amongst the Nobility towards Ladies; he also remembred, that when the Comedians played in the City from whence he came, he always entred for nothing, any, and had a place kept for him. He therefore did put on his best Cassock, and his Holiday Cloak, and I know not how, he forgot his Robe of the Court, to render him more venerable, and gain him better respect. As for his Wife, she was cloathed in her Nuptial habit, which was not much worn, for she did put it on but four times in a year, and that was at some extraordinary meeting, to shew her self in all her pomp. I was much amazed when I beheld them, as I was waiting with many others at the little Gate which through the long Galleries doth lead to Burbon Hall, The Advocate marched in magnificent array, with a Senatorical countenance. His Cassock was of Damask, and, if I hear the truth, it had been sometimes the Curtains of an old bed, and had been dyed from Red into Black. The pieces which were sowed together with great Symmetry were so large, that there were but three from his girdle to his collar, two on one side, and one on the other. His Cloak was lined, at least to apparence, with Plush unshorn, yet the Detractors did affirm, It was only a Preface that made a little shew in the fore-part of it, but in the body of it there was no lining at all; but howsoever it was, I know well enough that it was the same Cloak which served him in all seasons, and that in Summer he caused all the Plush to be ripped out, but what was on the Cape, and caused it to be put in again when the leaves began to fall from the Trees, having learned that secret from Monsieur Alaric in the abridgement of his long Studies. As for Madamoisell his Wife, she had a Jump on of yellow Sattin, greasie all over, and a Petticoat of another colour, but all before it in the same Condition as was the Jump, and a Collar so well mounted, that I know not to what better to compare her, than to St. George his Virgin in our Churches, or to those Puppies which are wriggling their tails at the doors of our Chambermaids. Her Nurse was more odly attired in a Coyf that had two flapps, like two ears, falling down on her shoulders, she carried a child in her arms, and had another a little bigger that walked by her, and I have often laugh'd to my self, when since I have see in Contemplation the strange Garbs, and postures of this Family, and me-thinks at this present I have them in my eye, but especially the Advocat, who in great state stalked before them, and at every other step almost would turn to his Wife, and said unto her, Sweet-heart, Take fast hold by my Cloak, and Nurse, Be you sure that you doe not lose the sight of us, and above all things have a care that when we are entring in the Child doth not cry.
This was spoken with so gracefull an Action, that all the Courtiers who were present took notice of the simplicity of the person, and being willing to [Page 11]make some sport, they did withdraw themselves a little, to give him leave to make his approaches to the Gate. It is true, that divers who were present did conceive him to be the Advocate of some Grand Signior; for otherwise he would have never had that Assurance as to have presumed to have entred. He arived just as Geropole, who was then Captain of the Guard, did open the Gate to let some of the Dancers in. The Advocate did put forwards, and approaching to him, did speak this studied Speech, Sir, Having understood by the Renown of high sounding tongues, that at this day there is a great Feast within, full of all maskfull Recreations, Curiosity, which ordinarily doth spur all noble hearts, hath brought me hither, to behold these gallant sports of the King and the Queens; May it please you therefore to introduce me to them with my little Family, who will alwayes inculcate it in our memories, as the benefit of your affability.
You must imagine, that he did speak these words with a demure countenance, and with the same accent, as if he had made an Oration before the Rector of an University, and you may judge withall what contentment this did give to Geropole, who was one of the most conceited Men of all the Court. And as he was full alwayes of witty replies, so on this occasion he did not forget himself. Imagine then, that you do see him without a Hat, and a Sattin Cap on his head, a Bunch of Keys in one hand, and every one as bigg as the Keepers key of the Common Jayl; In his other hand a handkerchief, with which he is alwayes wiping the sweat from his face. In this Posture he was, and having a little rested himself, he took his staff which was close by him, and fetching breath at every word, he said unto the Advocate, By my troth Sir, You will hardly believe how weary I am with beating Men away, I have done nothing else all this day, and I admire how you can have the Conscience to put me to this trouble again; but I see I must recollect my strength, and I swear unto you, if you will but stay one half quarter of an hour longer, I will beat you your belly full.
Geropole did speak these words so pleasantly, that all those who were present did begin to laugh, and seeing the small account he made of the Advocate, there came a throng much like unto the waves of the Sea when the Sea is angry, and carried the Advocate a great way off with all his Family. He in vain complained of the great discourtesy that was offered to him; I was hurried up and down amongst the rest, and took no care to approach to his assistance, being unwilling to skreen betwixt him and the abuse, and afraid that the Courtiers seeing me to be of his acquaintance, would make a mock of me; I conceived that he having received that affront, the Pages and the Lackeys would have recourse unto him, and play upon him by turns, which accordingly they did, & thrusting him from one side to another, at the last he fell down in the dirt, & it was told me, that the Plush of his Cloak was as dirty as the hairs of a Water-Spaniel who had been 15 days seeking his Master. As for the Mistresse and the Nurse, they saved themselves with their Children; for in those dayes Barbarousnesse and Cruelty were not so great at Court, as to injure Women and little Children, and there was not any who had a desire to meddle with them; for they were so foul, that there were none in all the Presse who would deal in such vile merchandise. But howsoever it was, neither the Husband nor the Wife had ever afterwards a desire to see a Mask at the Court.
But how came it about that they could let this poor Lawyer alone with his Damask Cassock, without affronting him with all manner of farther Persecutions, seeing all those whom the Pages did incounter (who were in the habit of Citizens) did suffer a thousand Indignities? I knew one Gentleman my self very well qualified, who being in mourning apparel, and therefore not known, was taken for a Citizen, and handled rudely enough before the Scoundrels [Page 12]would let him go: For my self I thrust my self forward among the rest, and so prevailed that I came up close to Geropole, to whom having shewed the verses for the Mask, he without any difficulty gave me admittance. In the same manner many others were admitted who were acquainted with the Dancers, some carrying in their hands one property for the Mask, and some another, and it was not troublesome unto them to perform the office of a Groom, because upon that account the Door freely was opened to them.
When I was entred with this Company, my troubles ended not, I was to passe through so many Gates, and to traverse so many Chambers, that I thought I never should have done. I found a great difficulty in all, and that my passeport in my hand was very necessary for me. The Throng besides was so great that it denyed me entrance as well as the Guard. At the last I came into the long Gallery of Burbon which butts forth upon the River where of necessity I must stay.
Many Courtiers were there who desired to know what I had in my hand, and beholding the papers made up in length as if it were Linnen, they were some of them so ignorant as to demand of me, Is the King going to Supper? Are not those Napkins which you carry? I made answer, They are Verses for the Mask, whereupon one of them who seemed to understand me, drew more near, and said, They are Grants of Pardons, and ever as I walked up and down seeking some place to repose my self, One or other of them thinking to speak wisely would cry out Papers, papers; There is one who carrieth Papers. Those words were accompanied with a contempt, which made me understand, that whatsoever things these Beasts did see, were they never so well done, they took them all for Libells, and that Sciences were such a horror to them, that they were sick at heart when they saw but a Paper, from whence they would take a Subject for their mockeries. But howsoever it was, my papers served me in good stead, for there being nothing in the room but bare walls, I sate upon them, and saw many great Signiors, who being quite weary of walking up and down, were constrained at last like so many Apes to sit on their Tails.
After I had been there a little time, the door was opened, at which I was to goe to Burbon hall. The throng was so great to enter in there, that I thought we had been all put into a Presse to have our quintessence extracted. Neverthelesse we came all at last safe and sound into the Hall where the Mask was to be danced, where I found all the places taken up, and knew not on which side to turn me; I endeavoured to make room for all the world, but no body for me. One did tosse me on the one side, and another on the other, so that I believed my Body was made a Baloon, I was so bandyed up and down amongst them. One of the Guard who was my friend did deliver me from that persecution, and setting me on the Scaffold where the Musicians for the Mask were to play, he told me that I should have a place there whether they would or no, until such time as the Mask began. Being there I looked for no other seat but my papers that were my faithfull Companions, and no sooner had I sate down upon them, but the Musicians came. They had all of them their Lessons pricked in loose papers, and having no desk on which to place them, they believed that I was set there on purpose to servet them. One of them took a Pin from his Ruff, another from his sleeve, and pinned their papers on my cloak, and I had some of them fastned to my back, and some under my Arms; One of them did fasten his paper to my Hatband, but that had been nothing, were not another of them so impudent as to goe about to pin also some of them upon my Brest. I told him, I could not indure the indignity, and that it would be very prejudicial to me, but he gave me good words, and represented to me, that in that place we must be helpfull to one another, I was so afraid that they would force me thence, or beat me, that I was brought to that point as to tell them, that they might fasten their papers where they would. One of them [Page 13]therefore did put his paper to my mouth to have me hold it there, and I kept close my teeth and my lips to retain what was given me, like a Spaniel that fetcheth and carryeth whatsoever is thrown him. The Musicians round about me were tuning of their Instruments, when Geropole perceiving me, did remember that I was one of the Poets of the Mask, and called me to deliver my verses as well as the others. Ah Monsieur, said I, How would you have me to come unto you? Do you not see how I am hung round with Musick? Opening my mouth to speak those words the Paper fell down, which made Geropole laugh, and continue his mirth he said unto me, Come away, and make all the hast you can, The Queen doth stay for you, she would see the verses which you have made for her. When I heard those words, I was so earnest to be gone, that without considering I had more Verses fastned on me, than on the Corner of a wall, I began lightly to come down the Scaffold; you might have then beheld all the Musicians to take fast hold of me, some with their hands, and some with the Bowes of their Viols to have their Musick again. To represent unto you their several postures, imagine that you saw those who in the last years Almanack would take the Moon, some of them with Ladders, which they could make either long or short, as they pleased themselves, others with hooks, and some with pincers. At the last those Disciples of Bocan did recover all their papers, some parts of them being torn, and under the conduct of Geropole I did go to offer my verses to the Queen. I believe that those who were payed for making theirs, did look upon me with a very evill eye, but they could not fear that their pension should be taken from them to be given to me, for I was not cloathed well enough to make them believe there were any good parts in me.
I will not undertake to describe unto you the inventions of the Mask, I will only say, that I saw there the Representations of those wonders which I took so much pleasure to read in the Romances. I saw Rocks move, I saw the Heavens, the Sun, and all the Stars to appear in one Hall, and Chariots flying in the Air; I heard Musick as sweet as that of the Elysian Fields, and in effect I believed that Arganda again had brought her Inchantments to the world. That was all the benefit I received for sitting up so many nights in making my verses, for in that way I hoped neither for profit nor honour. Neverthelesse my Books did run in my head, and I conceived than if I should dedicate a History which I had in the Press to a Noble man, it would conduce to my advancement. Amongst all those of the Court I made choice of one from whom I hoped for much favour, to which purpose I sought the acquaintance of the Gentleman who did govern him; I expected all assistance from him, and counted to him in brief the services I was capable to do for Philemon, for so was the Signior called, whom I desired to serve, I told him I could play on the Lute, and that I had extraordinary Songs, and moreover could tell the merryest Tales in the world, and such as would make Heraclitus to laught. He found proofs enough of all what I said, but it became a [...]inderance to me in my advancement to Philemons service: He believed that if I should possesse his ear, he should be quickly dis [...]esteemed himself. And indeed qualities such as mine had a just caust to be suspected by him. He was so far from assisting me to speak unto his Lord, that one morning when I waited at his Gate to present my Book unto him, he came to demand it of me, and told me that he would dispose Philemon to the acceptance of it, and some Gentlemen who were with him being gone, he would call me up to him to salute him my self; I who was without deceit, and unacquainted with the dissimulation of the Court, did forthwith give him my Book, and he did carry it into Philemons Chamber, where I cannot learn what he did with it, for I never spake with any one who at that time was with him. Not long after Philemon coming forth with a gret Retinue, he attended on him, but the last of all, and told me that he had not the opportunity to commend me to his Master on that [Page 14]day, that it was enough that he had received the Present of my Book, which could not have been better if I had put it into his own hand my sel;f Having spoke those words, he turned his head another way, to speak to some one e [...]se, and minded me no more. On the next Morning I addressed my self again unto him, to importune him to bring me to Philemon, but to no purpose at all. He seeing me stand at the Gate did come unto me, and said, What do you stay here for, you do but get cold in your Feet? Having heard those words which testified the small desire he had that I should see Philemon, as soon as he did turn his back I did goe away without bidding him Farewell.
I did not only think he was afraid it would be a disadvantage to him if I should serve Philemon, but withall, that he did hinder me from delivering my Book unto him, because he had a bad opinion, as well of the Courtesie as of the understanding of his Master, for he gave me a subject to believe, that the reason why he did not present me to him, was the fear he had I should know he had not the spirit to speak three words of course to thank me for my love, and it was possible that he could not read my Book, and did no more understand what was in the Epistle, than if it were in the language of the Indians; I will not say, howsoever, that he was so ignorant, for Plutarch in his Works doth truly affirm, that Detraction is one of the greatest Vices. Returning from him, I bad the Devil take both the Book and the Lord Philemon also, and did protest that I would commit no more such follies, to dedicate Books to such stupid persons, who do believe they do much oblige you, if they only but receive them, and will not see you, but as seldom as possibly they can, fearing you will importune them for one favour or another.
Neverthelesse I addressed my self to a Gentleman of Philemons acquaintance, to whom I complained of my misfortune, I satisfied him that I was not so mercenary as to desire any Present, but only, his countenance, and that he would be pleased to procure me a pension from the King; for although I was but young, I had some desings so advantagious to the State, that they ought to be acknowledged. How (answered he) Are you so little acquainted with the affairs of the world, that you do expect a pension? I have expended above three hundred thousand liuvres in the service of the King, and yet receive not so much as one Souse from hi [...] [...] could not choose but smile at those words, for he never had performed any service fo [...] q [...] Majesty, and I could not but say unto him, Sir, I make no question [...] th [...]ave spent above three hundred thousand liuvers, since you came first [...] Court, but whether it were in the Kings service or not, is that which remaineth to be proved. Every one knows the superfluous expences you have been at. Would you have the King to pay for the gorgeous apparel which every work you change? and must he be at [...] expences which your Wenches do put you to? Must your Debauch [...] [...] put into the number of the services due to the Crown? You may a [...] were me with the same confidence, as a certain Switzer made his com [...]or no, publick Minister of the State; Being come to Paris to enter himse [...] at but Kings service amongst others of his Nation, by the temptation of the go [...]wn of his nature, he did give a visit to the Ladies, amongst whom he had not [...] conversed but he had got the Pox, for the cure whereof he addressed him [...] to one of the most famous Chirurgions in Paris: He demanded of hun a roun [...] sum of Silver to perform the Cure, insomuch, that to provide the Sum he cansed an Ordnance to be drawn up, and carried it to the Secretary of State to have it signed. I leave unto you to judge how he mocked at him for it, and dismissed him, not without many checks, but he persisted in his Demand, and affirmed, that it was Reason the King should pay his Chirurgiou, because he had got the Pox in his Service▪ He deserved, as he thought, to be as well recompenced for it, as if he had received some remarkable wourds in a battel, and perswading himself that he was dealt with very unjustly, he would not serve [Page 15]the King any longer. For ought that I can perceive, you are one of his humor, and have no reason to be discontented at the King.
I expressed this with such a confidence, and▪ freedom of an ingenuous Spirit, that he unto whom I spake durst not seem openly to be offended at it, and was inforced to turn all into a pardonable Mirth. Neverthelesse he would have me to believe it to be as he said, and for my [...]elf, I protested to meddle no more with such Barbarians. Observing all my hopes lost, and repr [...]senting to my self w [...]at a shame it was unto me, to see that in my Book there was an Epistle so advantagious to Philemon, of which I could get no better an account, and to whom I never spake, I repaired to the Bookseller to alter all the first leaves. My Courage was too great to suffer any affront, and were he a Prince that was descended from the highest Bloud, I should be sensible of the Injury. Neverthelesse having considered of it, I did permit that the Book should be sold as it was, perswading my self, That the people understanding the little profit I had gained, would be the more exa [...]perated against Philemon, and would withall believe that all the praises I had given him were but mockeries.
After that, I determined with my self to write no more Books, but for my self only, without travelling to get any thing but Rheumes by attending at the Gates of the Courtiers: And Fortune at that time being desirous to gratifie me, my Mo [...]id send me a considerable sum of money, with which I apparelled my self in a fashion that infinitely pleased me. It was in the time of Summer, my suit was of Dove-coloured Taffata, with an eye of blew in it; I did put my self to a lower Pension, and shorter Commons than before, and the money which thereby was saved, I imployed to s [...]e my Cloak with another blew Taffata. You are by the way to observe the goodly Customs which Vanity hath introduced, and which the people doe delight to follow. A Man who hath a cloak but of single Taffata, is lesse esteem [...]d than he who hath his cloak lined through with the same, and he is not so highly reputed who bath a Serge cloak lined through with Serge, as he who doth wear a thin cloak but of Silk only. Amonst Women also there is the same Vanity of b [...]istinction, especially amongst the Wives of Citize [...] They who have the [...] hair bushing forth, and do wear a chain of gold hanging d [...]wn upon the [...] brests, are far more esteemed than those who are not so attired.
When I contemplate of the Va [...]lty of Men, I cannot wonder enough how their Spirits, which no doubt are capable of the greatest things, should so confine themselves to the most abject considerations in the world. A thousand idle fellows who walked up and down the Streets, did turn back to look upon me, [...]nd I, who am indued with that [...] from Heaven, as to underst nd their [...] told [...]s, did perceive well enough that some of them were puft up with a Premore [...]on, because their cloathes we [...] peradventure beter than mine, Herac [...] [...]ers, who were not so brave, did envy my happinesse to see me came [...]attired.
ved [...] that time there passed not a day but I walked constantly five or six times [...] fore Dianaes gate, to make her understand, by my glances, the extreme affection which I did bear unto her. But that was uneffectual, for being full of attractions, she had others besides my self, who courted her, and I believe she could not perswade her self that I was more amorous than the rest. I resolved therefore to write a Letter to her, to discover my affection, which I did draw up in such modest terms, that the gravest apprehensions could not be offended at it. You know in what a strain we do doe proceed on that subject. Therefore I will speak nothing to you concerning that Love-letter, but you are to understand, that I had made also a Copy of Verses, which I had sent with it, I remember it was a Sonnet on her fair Paps, which since I was amorous of her, I observed did every day more visibly than other advance their soft Rounds, [Page 16]and did increase by degrees. And because I have it in my Memory, I will repeat it to you; not to demonstrate that I make good Verse, for I dare assure you I can recite a far better piece, but only that I will not in silence pass by this private particularity.
But peradventure it will be objected, these Lines are too vain to commend to a young Virgin, and of a good Family; I believed that she could not take exceptions at them, and because the Letter assumed not so much liberty, I used a clean invention to have both delivered into her hands. Understanding that her Father was gone abroad into the fields, and that she was at home alone with a Maid Servant (for her Mother was dead) I sent a Lackey of my friends with some papers in his hand to demand if her Father were within or not. It being assured no, he presented the papers to her, and intreated her on his return to put them into his hand, saying they concerned his Master whom her Father knew very well, for her Father was his Advocate. The Papers being delivered, he made hast away, and Diana suspected nothing, for it is the custom of Lackeys to be always running: Diana knowing that her Father would not sudenly return had the curiosity to open that paper which was too handsomly folded up to be a Bill of Law, and by this means that which I did hope for was accomplished, and she (as since I have understood) finding that both the papers did addresse themselves unto her self, did believe that they came from the Lackeys Master, who oftentimes had made profession of his Love unto her.
As soon as she did see him, she blushing said unto him, Sir, you have a Lackey who doth not well perform the offices committed to his trust; I presume that you did give him Papers to be delivered to my Father and my self, those which were to be presented unto me I received, but I am afraid that he hath committed some mistake in those which were to be communicated to my Father. The young man not knowing what answer to return did believe she had a desire to put a trick upon him, and denyed that he had ever sent any Letters by his Lackye to be delivered to her or any else: But Diana confirming that she had received them, and acquainting him with the Lackye who did present them, he presently collected that they came from some Gentleman who unknown unto her was enamoured of her, and observing she confidently did believe that he was the Author of them, he first demanded of her, if the Letter and the Verses were acceptable to her, and finding by her words that there was nothing in them which procured the least shadow of discontent from [Page 15]her, he said unto her, that he could no longer conceal that it was indeed himself who had sent those papers to her, because he did conceive it necessary that she should understand the great desire he had to serve her; Moreover, he had understanding enough to assure her, that if she had refused to receive that present, he had ready the invention to chide his Lackey for his miscarriage, and to tell him that the papers were of great importance, which contained matters of Law, and needed the assistance of her Father. Howsoever, to keep all things with greater secrecie, he advised her for her part to persist to speak unto his Lackey as before, and to inform him, how much he was deceived in the execution of his charge, being to deliver those Letters to some other young Gentlewoman, and not unto her self. He afterwards understood by his Groom the Commission which I had given to him; Neverthelesse he so continued to perswade Diana that it was he who composed those verses, that she was constrained to make protestations to him, that she believed what he said; and because ingenious Spirits were very pleasing to her, believing that he was the Master of an excellent understanding, she did begin to give more respect unto him than to all the rest of those who courted her.
After this I made many more verses for her, and meeting one day Diana's Servant in the Street, I said unto him, Honest friend, give this Song to Madamoiselle Diana, The other day I did promise it unto her. The Servant made no difficulty at all to take the paper and carry it to Diana, who could not but believe it came from the same party as before, because the Gentleman who had spoken to her on the day before, might well have given them unto him, because he would trust no more his own Groom with the carriage of such papers.
But to make Diana understand that the verses did intirely proceed from my self, on the next Evening, as she sate at the Gate, after Supper, I passing by did sing aloud one of those Stanzaes which I had sent unto her. She, who had a good Memory, did remember where she had seen them, and immediatly did fasten her eye upon me.
But that was not sufficient, I did write another Letter to her, and did contrive a way how it might arrive to her own hand. I did thrust it therefore between the two lids of her Coffer which was on the Bench which she had at St: Severins, and the next day being Sunday, as she opened her Coffer, to take from thence her Muff, and a little Book of Devotion which she had put therein, she found my Letter. This Letter contained many extreme assurances of affection, and withall informed her, that if she had a desire to understand who it was did write it, she should observe him, who for the time to come would seat himself in the Church directly over against her, being cloathed in a Suite of Grasse green, which I had made on purpose to be the more agreeable unto her; And because she had found my Letter in the morning, as she was preparing to go to Masse, she had the opportunity to read it before she came to Vespers. When she was there, she might easily discover that I was her Lover, for on the beginning of the Sermon I placed my self close to her seat, so great a care I had not to fail in my enterprize. I but slowly moved my eyes, and as it were by a compasse, as an ingenious Artist doth make his motions to turn, and my little murderesse had such an assurance, that although she had wounded my Soul, yet she looked stedfastly upon me, and peradventure not with so much shamefastnesse as I looked upon her: But by reason that her Seat was low, and that there were so many men directly opposite to it, she, during all the time of the Divine service, did sit at the lower end of it, that I more fully might behold her. I knew not well, whether I might call it a cruelty or a curtesie, for in one Consideration she obliged me, because I loved nothing more passionatly than her self; but on the other she did me as great an injury, for every one of her looks did seem to me as an Arrow shot into my heart, which [Page 16]when I returned home, I found to be wounded all over.
Some dayes afterwards I did meet her in a spacious street, she was on the one side thereof, and I on the other, and both sides very full of Houses. Neverthelesse, as if attracted by a Loadstone, we came so near to one another, that when she crossed the way, our heads did almost touch, so much did they incline to the languishment of our Souls; for this lovely fair one had already some affection to me. Nevertheless I durst not have accosted her, if it had not been by the mediation of another, in which Fortune most advantagiously did favour me; for a Kinsman of this fair Diana, who had been my Companion in the College, did at that time come to live in the same house with her. I discoursed with him one day, to understand how her affections were enclined, and repeating my Verses to him, he assured me that his Cosin had shewed them unto him, and commended the piece to be incomparable. Understanding the good will which this young Man did bear unto me, I determined with my self to conc [...]l nothing from him, and having related to him the story of my Love, I desired him to make known unto Diana the true Author of those Pieces which she had lying by her. He failed not to doe it, and by the Impulsion of an excessive Love, he did assure me of all the courtesies which the bravest Personage in the Earth could expresse. I did not forget to represent unto him that I was descended from one of the most noble Families in France. This being discovered to her, the Gentleman who attributed my Works unto himself, was known to be but a baffler, and lost her love, and his own reputation at once. Diana desired nothing more than that I should discourse with her, but she had an old Man to her Father, who would not with patience endure that she should be seen in the Company of any who was not of his own Acquaintance, finding his Daughter to be of a flexible Disposition, and easie to be suborned: Our enterview therefore could not so suddenly be procured.
In the mean time I ceased not to court her with my eyes, and to be constantly at the Church as often as she was present. One day I repaired thither with a Gentleman of my Acquaintance, but she was not yet arrived. I walked up and down all that afternoon, and being desirous to ease my self, I sate upon a planck which was fastned to the forepart of her Seat, and I failed not to doe my obeysance to her and to her Sister with her, (who was already married) when ever they came into their Seat; And because he who was with me should not discover my affection, I endeavoured to conceal the trouble of my Spirit, and to hold some discourse with him.
This Gentleman was a Courtier, and I did speak something loud unto him, and sometimes he laughed, and so did I also, not dreaming that I troubled my Mistresse or her Sister. We did rise up sometimes from our Seats, yet pursued our Discourse, when, behold they did rise from their own places, and did take the possession of our Seat; I who was as jealous in those affairs as possibly any One could be, did infallibly believe that they and it on purpose to remove me, and inforce me to seek out a place to sit farther from them, because they would not be tormented with the extravagance of our Discourse; Immediately I withdrew my self, to testifie unto them I did so much Reverence them, that I was touched with much sorrow I had displeased them: Neverthelesse I will confesse unto you, I was most extremely passionate; for I was so sensible of the affront which in my opinion Diana had shewed unto me in displacing me, that in the excesse of my Rage, I was even ready to expresse, that she need not be so scornfull, for I was at the least as good as her self, it being some honour to her to have a place in my affection, who ought to fix my eyes on Ladies of a far greater Family than her self.
All the night following I did nothing but ruminate on this affront, and could take no rest, until I had conferred with the Kinsman of Diana▪ to whom I complained of the Injury which I had received, having even tears in my eyes; [Page 17]whereupon he did begin to laugh so heartily, that it did encrease my affliction, for I believed that he did mock me with it; but observe how he appeased me. My dear Friend (said he) and in that appellation did embrace me, You are too blame to be so jealous, as to conceive that Diana both undervalue you, which is an Incivility far from her Nature: you would laugh your self, if you knew the Cause of your Mistake; I remember that yesterday in the Evening when she returned from Church, she complained to her Servant of some Beggar, or some other nasty Fellow, who finding her Pue open, had loathsomly defiled it, and that was the Reason which made her to come out of it; but the Cyprian powder with which you were covered, did happily hinder you from partaking in so bad a savor.
This Account did much content me, and I had the curiosity to return to the Church, to prove whether his excuse was true, or not: I found there the ordure still in the Pue, which was not yet made clean, and the sight of that filthinesse did more please me, than if I had seen the sweetest and the fairest flowers in the world, because it delivered me from the extremity of my passion. When Diana understood my suspition, you may believe that she did not refrain from laughter; neverthelesse it turned all to my advantage, because by that she might perceive the passion which I had to preserve my self in her good opinion.
It is ordinarily spoken, That the price of things is valued by the difficulty in the procuring them, and that we undervalue those things which are easie to be obtained, I never understood that truth better than on this occasion; for when I found several obstructions in gaining the familiarity of Diana, I most violently did love her. And now since her Cosin promised me to bring me into the House, when her Father was gon abroad, and to help me not only to the Speech of her, but also so far to perswade her, that I should obtain a good place in her affection, I did perceive my passion to languish by degrees. The principal Cause was, that although her favors were most considerable, yet I should never enjoy her, unlesse I were married to her, and I had too high a Courage, to stoop so low as to take to Wife the Daughter of a simple Advocate. And knowing moreover, that every Man of Iudgement doth affirm, That he is most happy who can avoid such heavy chains as those of Marriage, they were altogether a horror to me. Neverthelesse, being unwilling it should be said, that I loved a Maid, and yet did never speak unto her, I did give a visit to the Kinsman of Diana, and by that means did find the opportunity to confer with her. She gave me so many proofs of her gentle Spirit, that I reassumed my former passions, and afterwards did seek after, and desire nothing else, but to see her at her door, at the Church, and at the place where she was accustomed to walk. She used me with all respects, knowing from what Family I was descended; And as often as I came to wait upon her, she abandoned all other Imployments to give entertainment to me. But it so fell out, that towards the end of Summer her favours did end with it, and when I came to her Fathers house to ask for her, she was constantly denyed. This estrangement of her Company, and affections, I observed every day more and more to continue, and having heard her speak heretofore of a certain Man whom I knew, who was called Melibeus, I doubted she had taken an Inclination unto him. He was a Player on the Lute, and had a Pension from the King, and was one, who putting on his back all that he could get, was accounted amongst the bravest fellows about the Court. He was alwaies on Horseback, and I on foor, and it was this which gained him the heart of inconstant Diana. I understood a [...]wards by one of my Friends (who had notice of it) of the familiarity [...] he had with her. I was very sorry for her particular, for Melibeus could no [...] be a Suter to her for any good Intention, and if I had been her Father, I should never have given way unto it; for it is known sufficiently, that such [Page 18]libertines as himself do never Court young Gentlewomen to marry them, there being nothing more certain, than that Court-Humourists, Poets, and Musicians (whom I rank under one Categorical notion) do never advance themselves at Court but by playing the Pander. It was therefore to be feared that Melibeus did indeavour only to gain Diana to prostitute her to some young Lord, who might afterwards be a supporter to him, and this suspition did carry with it a great probability of Truth. I was amazed at the error of Diana to undervalue me for one who had nothing to commend him but only that he could play on the Lute, neither was he one of the Masters in that faculty, for I who made no profession of it could play altogether as well as himself. That which advanced him was his impudence, and hath since found another way that hath much inriched him, but the most dishonest one in the world.
One day he was so bold as to speak unto the King, Sir, I do acknowledge that I am not worthy to serve you, but I have an extreme desire to be found worthy, & I hope I shall be able to arrive unto it, if you will be pleased to assist me. May it please your Majesty to command that some moneys may be assigned to me to provide me with Instruments that I may be heard to play in the Consort, there will not be a Lord in the Court that will not follow your exapmle. The King out of the bounty of his Royal Nature did accord to that which he demanded, and he did afterwards Petition to all the Lords of the Court. To one he Petitioned for a Violl, to another for a Lute, to this Man for an Orfarian, and to that Man for a Harp, and unto some for a pair of Virginalls: And after he had been with two or three who had answered his Petition, the rest were all constrained to follow their Examples, for it would reflect to their disgrace if they should be found lesse liberal than others; Nay there were not so much as any one of their Grooms, who did not contribute something to him, for if he would be esteemed a Man of ingenuity, he must adorn the Cabanet of Melibeus. At the last he had not room enough in which to put all those Instruments that were given him, he must therefore provide himself with a Magazine. For my part, if he had demanded any thing of me, I should have been so prodigal as to have bestowed upon him a Iews-Tromp. He had sent his Lute-maker to a Lord, who had promised to pay for a Lute for him; The Lord payed a great deal more than it was worth, and the profit thereof returned to Melibeus, and afterwards the Lute-maker carryed the same Lute to another, and it was observed that the same Lute was payed for by eleven several Lords. This indeed did tend enough to his advantage, and he perswaded Men to be cheated by example; but Melibeus is not the first that did undertake to beg with Honour. Neverthelesse he did dutifully oblige himself even to the least of those who had bestowed gifts upon him, and if they had commanded him to play unto them, he did not fail to obey them. For all this he pursued his design, and did amasse together such a multitude of several Instruments, that if he would have sold them, as I believe he now hath, he might be the Master of a very considerable estate.
Those things were enough to render him odious to Diana, but she was overcome with vain apparences. You are not ignorant that Maids for the most part do love those Men best who speak most, not regarding whether they speak good sense or not. The Tongue of Melibeus was a perpetual motion, and he had got in the Court a certain liberty which I could not be Master of, for I made love with so much modesty that I durst not take Diana the hand to kiss it. But as I have since understood by one, who hath often seen him with her, he was not so respectfull. Moreover, when he was in her Company, he would shew himself to be very passionate, and would roul his eyes in his head, as those little Figures under a Clock, who with their Hammers knocking on the Bell, do give an account of every hour of the day. He spake the Romance of a transported Phoebus, and would thus Court her, Let me kisse your fait [Page 21]Hands my Fair, but O! How prodigious is the effect, they are of Snow, and therefore they do burn me. If I kisse those sweet Roses of your Cheeks shall I not be pricked, seeing that Roses are not without prickles. Much more he would expresse to the same sense, which he had all by heart, his humour being always exercised in extravagant passions. When he was before the great Ladies of the Court, he would seem as if he were struck with admiration, and would say unto them, Ah Madam, I lose my sigh in seeing too much of Beauty, and I advenrure to lose my language with it, which in this ravishment of my Spirit can no longer entertain you; He had spoken more truly, if he had complained of the losse of his understanding, but all was taken in good part whatsoever he did utter, and those things were suffered in him, which would have given just offence if they had proceeded from another.
I do believe there was not any one but Diana that did esteem him, although to speak the truth I do believe he was not much inamoured of her. The Vanity of the Courtier was more agreeable to her than was my modesty, and she gave him all the occasions that she could to speak unto her. She would be sure to be at the Gate at those hours in which he was accustomed to ride that way, and oftentimes she would invite him into the house. I was possessed with a violent desire to understand in what degree of favour I was with her, but she returned answer she was indisposed in her health, and could not see any one on that day, wherupon I determined to borrow a Lackey of my friend, for I kept not one my self, and he supplyed me according to my own desire. I did send him to Diana as if she came from Melibeus, to understand if she were at leisure, that he might wait upon her, she returned answer, yes, and that she should be glad to see him. This being reported to me, I knew for certain that Melibeus did altogether possesse her heart, and that he had also gained the affections of her Kinsman. It much grieved me, I confesse, but I protest unto you I entertained rather thoughts of Indignation than of Iealousie; For it seemed to me, that Diana forsaking me, and chosing Melibeus was sufficiently punished for her own blindnesse, and why should I be grieved at that for which she ought herself to lament; I did comfort my self with this, that to Court her any more was to imploy time to losse; she will have a Courtier, let her therefore pursue and enjoy her own Fancie. I believe that if she married accordingly as she propounded to her self she would have the leisure to repent it, For my self, I assure you, I was resolved to have her Epithalamy sung by the Musicians of the New bridge, after I had composed the Verses.
Intending to prosecute this humour, one Night I took with me five or six of my friends, and we did all go to give a Frolick to Melibeus with Hammers, Drumms of Biscay, and Iews Tromps. For my part I did sing a prepared Song, in which I made mention that our instruments were as good as his, and might as much assist him to captivate the affections of his Mistresse. Much more was spoken to his disgrace, which I believe he understood, but he durst not appear before us. I had a resolution besides to have given him a hundred Bastinadoes before the face of his Mistresse, there was nothing more easie if he had been worthy to have put me to that trouble. But I conceived it was possible that for all that Diana would not think the worse of him, and as it stood that she might possibly change him for another, as she had changed me for him. For besides the imperfections of his Mind he had many great ones of his Body. I have heard that Diana ofentimes would say; What a delicate Gentleman is this Melibeus? How sweet He always smels? It is true, and, a Man might justifie that he therefore smelt ill, because he smelt well: He had a savour that was able to bring the Plague into the most temperate Air, and for all the persumes that were under his Armpits, the places where he had been did retain so corrupt a favour that an hour after he was gone the noysomnesse of the smell [Page 22]might easily be perceived. I believe that the extreme and violent heats were return'd, and that the strength of his Sweat did overcome the Persumes. When he would kisse Diana, he would put sweet Confects into his mouth, to correct the rottennesse of his teeth; And the best words that could be spoken must be alwayes bad in his mouth, he had so corrupt a Breath. But without any further amplification, Diana herself did at last forsake him, and not long afterwards her Father married her to an Advocate, a rich and an honest Man, in whose arms I had rather see her, than in those of Melibeus.
I was s conscientious that I would not attempt to violate the Marriage bands, and I found my affections to her nothing so passionate as before, so that if I did speak one word or two unto her, that was all▪ Love neverthelesse did preserve the Empire he had got on me, and caused me to adore another Beauty, the accesse to whom was far more difficult, but the enjoyment was more easie. After her, I loved many more, of whom I will not speak, the Story will too much trouble you; It may suffice, that for the greatest part of them our affections were reciprocal, and there was not any of them but gave me the testimony of a vehement passion, in granting me their dearest favours. There doe not shine so many Starrs in the skies, as I was enlightned with the eyes of several beauties. My Soul was inflamed with the first object that appeared, and of fifty beauties which I had often in my fancy, I could not discern which was most agreeable to me. I courted them all at once, and if sometimes I received from any one the least disgust, it did so afflict me, as if my Love had been most entire, and but to her alone. Peradventure I anon shall give you an account of some part of my affections, accordingly as in order they shall present themselves in the following History.
THE SIXTH BOOK OF THE COMICAL HISTORY OF FRANCION.
AFter that I was seen to be well cloathed (said Francion) I became infinitely acquainted with young Men of all Conditions and Estates, as the Sons of Noblemen, the Sons of Justices, the Sons of the Kings Receivers, and of Merchants. We every day did meet at the Ordinary, and my Authority was so great amongst them, that I pursed up more than I expended. I propounded to five or six of the most noble of the Number, to make as great a Company as we could of generous and gallant Personages, Enemies to Ignorance and Folly, that so we might converse together, and shew innumerable proofs of our noble Resolution. My advice did please so well, that immediatly putting their hand unto the Work, they did draw a great number of their friends together, who also did bring in others with them of their particular Acquaintance. We made Lawes which were inviolably to be observed, as to shew all honour unto one, who from fifteen dayes to fifteen dayes should be chosen the Chief of the Company; to assist one another in Dangers, and Loves, and in other affairs; to despise all fordid thoughts, and the vile Rabble in Paris, who believe there is a great necessity of their ridiculous Offices; all those who would observe these Ordinances, and others of the same strain, were received into the number of brave and generous, for so we stiled our selves, and it was no matter if any one amongst us were the Son of a Merchant, or an Exchequer man; for the abuse of Traffick only, and of the Exchequer Men were to be blamed. We look'd not on Descent, but Merit; We made Feasts by turns; for my self I was exempted from that charge, because I was the Founder of the Fraternity; and being the first who was made Chief, I had the charge to receive the Fines in which they were condemned, who had fallen into some error which they were forbidden to commit. The money was to be imployed for Collations in the Afternoons, but God knows how just a Treasurer I was, and how I saved the money to supply my own necessities: My Companions were so prodigal, and so full of money, that they freely emptied their purses, and demanded not an Account of my Receit. I was as brave as the bravest of them all, and braver too; It pertained to me only to see Justice done on the peremptory persons of the City, whose scourge I was, as if for that purpose I had been sent down from Heaven.
The Son of a Merchant, but the most ignorant and presumptuous one in the world, did one day come into the Company where I was, he was most richly [Page 2]cloathd with a Silk Stuff that could not be paralleld in France, I believe that he caused it to be made in Italy, on purpose because he thought no man in France ought to be equal to him; I observed how loftily this young Merchant did deport himself, and that although he was saluted with much reverence, yet his own Hat would stir no more than if it were some piece of unwieldy timber on his Head. Being always an Enemy to such humours, I could not endure this sight, and spake aloud to those who were next unto me, pointing to him with my singer: See there (my Companions) the principal shop of Monsieur Huistachius (for so according to his name I did call his Father) so God shall save me, see if he hath not laid forth his very best Stuff on his Stall: He is like to gain well by it; for we need not go home to his House to fee the richest Merchandize, His Son there is a Shop errant, and doth go up and down to shew it to all the World. Coming up unto me, he said, with an angry and threatning countenance, Speak you of me? I, laughing at him, said to my Companions, Gentlemen be not offended at any thing he saith, He did verily believe that there is some one amongst you who is like unto him, and doth deserve that he should be spoken unto as I have spoke unto him. Finding himself to be hit home, he did swear Bloud and Death, and said, that although he did not wear a Sword as I did, and that it was not his Profession, yet he would—And there he stopt without speaking more.
For my self, I made use of his Rage to improve my laughter, and intending to make more sport with him, Certainly (said I) it is good discretion, the more infectious and more foul the thing is, to take so much the more care to cover it, neverthelesse the evil savour will come still unto us. Because you will needs appear in such rich Habiliments, it is a sure testimony that you have nothing else that can purchase respect unto you. You would fain seem to be something transcendent, and to surpasse all gallant Men, but understand, that if your Body be above theirs, their Souls will rise aloft and will mount above yours. One of my Companions came then unto me, and desired me to let him goe. So I will (said I) I have little reason to dispute against a Suit of Cloaths, for I can see here nothing else against which I should quarrel. The Sword is not worth so much as the Scabbard, and to speak the truth, It is reason that so fair a Cloak should be seen in some more eminent place than where it is disgraced to be worn; I will pardon him, but upon promise that he shall enter no more into contestation with things that are above his capacity, nor meddle but with such Cloathes as are fit for his condition.
My Simplician fearing after I had afflicted his wretched Spirit with my invective Mirth, I should persecute his Body with my Bastinadoes, dis fly away as swiftly as doth a guilty person who is pursued with Sergeants.
And as fair examples doe follow one another, the next morning being at a Counsellors Gate with his Daughters, and some other good company, a young Man of the City who was very spruce passed by: He had a Doublet on of white Sattin, and Stockings of Crimson Silk, in brief, he was in all tings accommodated like a Gentleman, save only that he had no Sword, and yet he had one, but he caused his Lackey to follow behind him with it. Behold (said I) the custom of the young Gallants of Paris, they will be all after the garb of the Nobility, and renounce the Vocation of their Fathers, which is the principal cause of their Riches; but certainly yonder fine thing hath no extraordinary desire to appear a Gentleman, he doth so little love arms, that he will not own them, unlesse they are carryed behind him; and moreover, I perceive that he would have it known, that his Lackey is more honourable than himself, for he makes him to carry the Sword. There was not one among my Companions who did not applaud the conceit, it was shot home so handsomly; And because we had good Laws as well as words, and our remarkable actions ought to be recompensed, it was ordered by them all, that out of the mony I received [Page 3]I should reserve so much as would buy me a Beaver Hat, which they thought I had well deserved by reason of the many Gallantries which I had put in execution.
We did sharply correct Vice, with the edge not only of our Tongues, but sometimes with our Swords, and without Mercy we did charge on those who had offended us; It was no easie adventure to oppose us; for the most part we did go six and six together, and sometimes all in one Company, as when we did go a hunting out of the City as far as Bois de Vincennes. It is true I had no Horse, but one of my Companions who was the Treasurers Son did always lend me one when it was our pleasure to be on Horseback.
Many times in the night we would bestow Musick on the Ladies, and oftentimes we made Masks, and danced them in the best Houses of the City, where in emulation we contended for the improvement of our new virtue which could not be parallel'd. The Citizens condemned our practice, Men of courage did approve it, every one did speak diversly of it according to his Fancy. Our exploits were the ordinary discourses at the Lovure, at the Palace, and all publick meetings. He who would shew himself to be of a generous Spirit, would rank himself in our Company, or desire our assistance. The greatest Lords were glad of our Friendship, when of themselves they would punish some who had offended them, and they intreated us to chastise Vice accordingly as we declared. Neverthelesse in processe of time this society of ours did lose is Lustre, and the greatest part being forced to withdraw, either to provide some Office to maintain them, or to be marryed, and being afterwards to be setled in some course of life they could no longer continue with us.
It is true, the number was again compleated by the accesse of new Gallants, but they were such a fraternity as displeased me. Their Souls panted after nothing but vanity and beastly debauchment. I did admonish and instruct them, when I was with them, and by little and little I did refrain their Company, counterfeiting my self to be indisposed in my health, for the which purpose, I, for the most part, confined my self to my Chamber. I did there addict my self to my Study, and after the newest, but the best fashion of all, I did altogether play the Philosopher, and did contemplate on the condition of men, and what they ought to do to live in quiet, and more delightfully than now they do, concerning which I had drawn the beginning of a Treatise, which I will communicate unto you. I leave you to judge if that be not the cause wherefore I do so much detest the conversation of Men, for by this Study I found the means to make them live like little Gods, if they would but practise my Counsels.
But because we must first assay to satisfie the desire with those things which are crosse to sensuality, I only did endeavour to procure contentment to my self. Afterwards extravagantly determining to follow in apparence the track of others, I made use of a deceipfull Art to obtain the good Will of every one. I endeavoured to make my mouth speak contrary to what my heart thought, and would give complements and praises where I thought most necessary for my own ends, receiving that liberty to my self to speak to those only who were worthy of them. I had a desire to addresse my self to some great Signior, who might give me a condition that might render my Fortunes more assured, but I had never the desire to serve those persons who were not worthy to command, for I was well enough acquainted with the evill conditions of the Court.
One of my Friends did bring me one. Afternoon to the House of a Damoisel called Luci, assuring me that she was a Woman of the best discourse that could be, and that I should not fail to find in her Company the bravest Spirits in the World, amongst whom I should have the Honour to illustrate, and the happinesse to advance my self. She had understood of him who I was, and [Page 4]that I came on purpose to visit her, wherefore she gave me good entertainment, and placed me next unto her; there were present divers persons clad most gallantly, who I conceived were not the least of the Court; I listned to understand the good discourse which I conceived they did maintain: On all sides I heard nothing but Vantings, Extravagancies, and a confused Gallimaffry of Accounts ill reported, and a pronuntiation so bad, that it cannot be represented. Is is not a strange thing, Madamoisell, (said one of them) twirling his Mustachio, that good Fortune and I should be always at War, she will never lodge in my Company; If I had all the Silver which the Treasurers of Spain have in their Coffers, I should lose it all at play in one morning. It is a sign (said Lucy) that the Starrs will suddenly shoot down a more happy Influence, and intreat Love to metamorphose your ill Fortune in play, into a good Fortune by a rich Wife. I know not, said the first, what Edict Heaven will issue forth concerning that, but I will send a challenge to you as my Enemy, if you open not the portal of your Soul to this Belief, that if I am favoured by Destiny in my Marriage, I must be married to a Lady such as you are: You do mock me sure, said Lucy, taking him by the hand in hers, and smiling at what he said; He replyed, I will give you marks more visible than the Sun, that I do cherish you with a most real Love; My heart is alwayes tossed in a Sea of Two hundred millions of Thoughts to the gluttonous appetite of the West, and Southwest of my Desires, until (most delicate Beauty) I shall make known unto you that I do adore you with so fervent a devotion, that—He there made a stop, being at a halt in his Conceptions. These words he did speak in Lucies ear, to shew they were very secret, but by an admirable Vanity he did pronounce them so loud, that every one did hear them, for he conceived to himself that they were most exactly ranked.
Not long afterwards, changing his Discourse, he said, My Soul was lately so bigg with desire to have a piece of Land which pleased me, that I gave for it Three hundred thousand Liuvers, although it was worth no more than Two hundred and fifty thousand, and ever since I have a great Desire to be called by the Name of that goodly Heritage. Good God! said I to my self, What is this? A Man who thinks himself one of the bravest in the world, is ambitious to carry the Name of a few Acres of Land, when the Land should be known by the Name of the Master of it. How ridiculous is this absurdity? Why doth he not rather purchase some gallant Title by his atchievments? Turning my self to the other side, I observed two in a serious Discourse, which made me the more attentive. What is your judgement (said one of them) on my Suit of Cloaths? Is it not of an excellent stuff, and as good as ever was made at Lyons? Is not my Taylor well versed in the Fashion? He is a Man of Understanding, and I will advance him if I can; There is a Citizen hath a good Office in the Exchequer, who is not to be compared to him. But what think you of my Hat? Doth the Fashion of it please you? Alas Sir, (answered the other) I find all things you wear to be extremely compleat, that the more I doe contemplate you, the more I am ravished with admiration; I am of opinion that the Angels are not better cloath'd in Heaven, than you are on Earth, although they have every one of them six Ells of Stuff of a sky-colour, embroydered with Starrs, to make them a Suit. Good God! You are Adonis himself, What deep sighs doth Venus fetch for you? What a charm do those Roses carry on your cheek? The two even Ranks of your white teeth have power in them enough to murder a heart. Neverthelesse, Excuse me if I tell you, Sir, that your Hat doth flap a little on the one side thereof, The Brims are with the largest, Cause them to be cut more narrow, Let me be your Counsellor of Estate in this affair, I speak unto you as a Friend; Far be it from me to disparage you, I see well enough that you are accoutred with other rare Vertues, for you have a pair of Boots the best made in the world, and (above all) your [Page 5]hair is so well curled, that I believe the Soules therewith intangled, and made prisoners, do wander up and down as in a Labyrinth of Pleasure. The other kissing his cheek did reply, Dearest of my Friends, You better deserve those praises which you give me, than my self, It is known to the world that your brave Qualities do cause you to be cherished, even by Majesty it self; You are the Loadstone who attracteth all, both Male and Female, to you at the Court: The Ladies, for all their inexorableness, are wounded with the Arrows of your Eys, and acknowledge they feel no sires, but what are lighted from your beauties. The other made answer to him with a strange boasting, It was true enough there were some Ladies who did love him, and to give him a proof of what he said, he did pull out of his pocket a Love-letter, which, it is possible, he did write himself, although he said, It came from his Mistresse.
This Discourse was nothing pleasing to me, I therfore turned aside to the Conference of some others, which was not much better. They judged of the affairs of State, as a blind man doth of Colours: And he who spake of his Acres of Land, thinking himself to be the most judicious in the Company, did affirm, That since the King dismissed him of a Lieutenant ship which he had, there hath been nothing but Disorder in France, and that he was the Man who for so long a time did maintain the Kingdom in peace. Afterwards they came to speak of War, and every one of them did make a relation of the Imaginary exploits he had performed. There were some of them who said, That their Pages were called Squires, to shew only in what reputation their Masters were, and if they committed any Imployment to their charge, it was to show that they were most deeply ingaged themselves.
I was so weary to see and understand their a pish follies, that I would have given any thing to be gone; At the last, they all standing up to salute a Signior called Clerantes, who was newly entred, I found the opportunity to escape away in the Confusion, having made a short reverence to the Company, who I thought had taken no great notice of me.
At my departure having met with him who caused me to goe in, I told him, That the Gentlemen whom I had seen, had no doubt a great deal of Eloquence with them, but it was according to the condition of this Age, in which, to speak much is to speak well but there was nothing so sottish or vain as their Spirits, & that if the Court had not more generous Personages, I was well contented not to trouble it; and, that I abstained from talking, not the better to understand them, or to gain from their language or experience, but because I would not administer an occasion to be troubled to discourse with them, which would have proved more tedious to me, if particularly they had addressed themselves unto me. I related to him how I observed their Vanity, using seven or eight affected words at the beginning, middle, and the end of every clause, which they thought to be courtly, and very gracefull, when it was most ridiculous, as, Sir, Most undoubtedly you have the whole Property of it. You are acute in Love and Musick. You have all the habitudes with the Ministers of the affairs of State. You are in a very good Posture with Monsieur the Treasurer. You are here in the great Commerce of the world. You are intricate, and not to be fathomed; and such other terms newly invented. The Answer which my Friend did make unto me, was, That by the train of the Lackeys at the Gate, be knew what persons were in the House, and that they were Lords and Gentlemen who were esteemed to be the best wits in France, to which I made Reply, That in the Country of the Blind, he who hath but one eye is King there.
But as since I have understood, Clerantes knowing me, because elsewhere I had been shewn unto him, demanded of Lucy, If she received not much pleasure in my Company; for, said he, I am informed that this Gentleman makes [Page 6]very good verse, and hath the clearest fancy, and the smothest language, and the livelyest accents in the world. I have heard it so spoken, said Lucy, but nothing lesse appeared to me, I believe it was his Statue sent hither by Art Magick rather than himself. I saw, I must confesse, a dumb motion which made no answer to what I demanded of him, but only by nodding of its head, and in the same manner departed without the least complement. You shall find (said Clerantes) that something discontented him; who was it that gave you the knowledge of him? Lucy made answer it was the Gentleman who did bring him to her house. Some few days afterwards Clerantes spake unto him, and according to his directions I repaired unto Clerantes with an intention to make it appear unto him who I was. I did accost him with Complements suitable to his quality, and entertained him above two hours with diverse Subjects without appearance of being tedious to him. At the last I shewed him my verses, which he told me did please him better than ever any that he saw at the Court. After that, speaking to me of Lucy, he told me, she complained exceedingly, that taking the pains to visit her, I would not vouchsafe to open my mouth to feed her ears with the sweetnesse of my discourse. The generous disposition of this Signior did invite me to conceal nothing from him, I told him, that if I were Master of those rare qualities which were imputed to me, yet I could not be perswaded to speak at that time, because there were some Gallants with Lucy, to whom good and solid discourse would be as the Sun amongst the blind. He confirmed what I said, and vowed to me, that they were a generation of men vain and ignorant, neverthelesse I might have discovered my self to Lucy without being interrupted by them, for I should have found in her another Genius. Not long afterwards having taken me along with him, I perceived that the praises given to her were answerable to her deserts, also she confessed again and again, that by my discourse she found me to be such as my friends had represented me unto her.
Much about that time there was a Libel brought to the hands of Clerantes, playing with much freedom on almost all the great Personages of the Court, Clerantes himself was also comprehended in it, but all it could say of him, was, That being married to a handsome Lady he desisted not to seek his fortune elsewhere. I paused a little to examine that piece in his presence, and marvelously did passe my Iudgement on it. I will venture my life, said I, it was Alcidamore that caused this to be made. Wherfore think you it was rather he than any other? said Clerantes. I will tell you, said I, you will not deny that he it the most vicious in all the Court, and yesterday I heard you to affirm as much. Now those who are not named in this Satyre are exempted by their remarkable Vertue, but as for him, I know not for what reason the Poet left him out, but only for this, that by his perswasion he did write it. My conjecture was very probable, and Clerantes was of opinion that I did speak the truth: On that he took other Verses out of his Pocket, which he found lying at his feet in the Louvre, and had not yet read them all over. Whiles he was speaking to one of his friends I did run them over with a cursory eye, and perceived that they were made directly on himself, and reproached Clerantes, as being stupid, ignorant, and a mortal Enemy to Scholars. Sir, said I, I do beseech you to give me leave to burn this paper; I will not, said he, until I throughly have perused what it doth contain. I replyed, they are the most notorious lies in the world. I will see them howsoever, said Clerantes. They wil exasperate you most extremely, said I; Not at all, replyed Clerantes, if they justly accuse me I shall receive an advantage by it, and shall hereafter indeavour to render my self so virtuous, that I shall make Envy mad, that she hath no more an occasion to turn her arms against me. But on the contrary, if I am condemned without a cause, I shall no more regard the slander, than a generous Lyon doth fear the barking of little Dogs, they may draw near unto me, but they dare not bite me. Having spoke those words I [Page 7]took him aside, and observing the greatnesse of his courage, I made no demur to give him the Pasquill. Having read it, he smiled upon me, and said, A [...] what Lyars are these to make the World believe that I love not Letterd men, either they know not the learning which you have, or are ignorant how highly I esteem you. I thanked him for the favour which he testified unto me, and demanded of him, if there were not a Poet lately who demanded something of him to which he could not accord? He paused a little while, and then said unto me, It is not above three months since a certain man did present me with a Copy of Verses in my praise, for which I promised him fifty Crowns, but some of my People have restrained my liberality. Be you sure then (said I) that it was he who made those verses in indignation thereupon, I do partly suspect the man, and now I remember my self, I can assure you that at this time he is a Servant of Alcidamors, and that it is he no doubt who did compose the other piece. That may well be (said Clerantes) when he came hither he did sing me no other Song but that he would render me immortal if I should crown his indeavours with some honest recompence. I cryed out, Allas poor seller of immortality! your Merchandise is not of an allay good enough. The Verses which you made but six years agoe are already in their graves. It it true, he vaunted there was not any but himself alone who had talons sharp enough to take hold of the Rock, and to climb up unto the top of Parnassus. Sir, said I, when we do feed upon a hard crust of bread we doe think to our selves that we do make a great noise, when none who sit by us do hear any thing at all: so it is with this poor Rimer, his works make no noise but in his own ears. Let us examine the piece without regarding the Subject on which it treateth. We have already condemned him for that.
After that, I shewed to Clerantes all the faults of the Satyr, and promised him that I would answer it to take away the evil impressions which the Courtiers might have received of him. On the other side Clerantes inforced himself to prove all those Lyars who for the time to come should accuse him of ignorance, and he reserved two hours every day to be in his Cabanet with me to learn how to discourse in company, on all variety of Subjects, and in another manner than the greatest part of Courtiers do, whose discourse is without Order, Iudgement, or Politeness. Not to dissemble, he before in some degrees did hate good literature, nay, and he blamed some persons who did addict themselves unto it, thinking that it ought not to be the exercise of a noble Spirit; But I took from him that imagination, demonstrating unto him with much respect, that those who would command others ought to have more strength of Spirit than of Body, as it is seen amongst brute Beasts. And to revenge himself of the Poet who contumeliously had abused him, be caused him to be soundly bastinadoed.
His good will increasing day after day towards me, he was curious to enquire after my Fortunes; I made my self more poor unto him than in effect I was, to induce him with a more speedy and open hand to assist me, and I desired of him that I might have my residence with him. He offered an honest exhibition, which I accepted, because I had my liberty entire; and although I did him services, and such peradventure that he could not expect from any other, yet I was not in the quality of a Servant. He promised that he would always esteem me as a friend, wherefore I did put my self into his house, where I received infinite proofs of his liberality, and was accoutred with most gorgeous habiliments. I was ordinarily mounted on a Horse worth one Hundred Pistols, and when I did ride, the earth did seem almost to tremble under me; I was always followed with three or four Lackeys: My Mother was filled with contentment at the news of my good fortune with which I had acquainted her in my Letters. I took vengeance on those who heretofore had upbraided me, by deriding them in the same nature. Of my old Camrades there was [Page 8]but two or three left of whom I made any reckoning, For the rest, I did pretend to cherish them, by reason of the profit I received from them, (which is an Invention that sometimes we ought to practise, without the fear to incur any just blame.) I deported my self no more with any familiarity towards them, to make them understand they were nothing in comparison of me, and that they render'd themselves distastful to me by their Imperfections. This generous Society did not long after disperse themselves, wanting one of Understanding and Courage to maintain them in their flourishing estate. The Girls also who before undervalued me, would now be proud of my favour, but I answered their hypocrisy with reproaches.
My ordinary Custome was to chastise Folly, to suppresse Vanity, and to mock at the willfull Ignorance of Men. The Lawyers, the Receivers, and the Merchants, passed daily under my hands and lash, and you cannot imagine what pleasure I took to strike home at the black Sattin. Those who said they were Noble, and degenerated from it, were not exempted from the just effects of my choler; I did instruct them, that to be Noble was not to ride a Horse well, or to handle a Sword, to man a Hawk, or to make a Dogg, nor to jut it in the streets with rich accoutrements, but to be the Master of a Soul which resists all the Assaults and Buffets of Fortune, and to have nothing seen that is base in any of his Actions. It seemed to me, that, like Hercules. I was born to chase those Monsters from the Earth: Nevertheless, to speak the truth, there was no hope for the performance of it; for I must then destroy all those Men, who now have nothing of a Man in them, but the figure only. I resembled also, methought, the other Hercules of France, who drew Men unto him by the ears with the chains that proceeded from his mouth; I speak it without Vanity, that those who have heard me discourse with that modesty which I alwayes observed, have sometimes been gently drawn to entertain my Counsels.
If Clerantes had done any thing for which I did fear he ought to be reproved, my Reproof was so gentle, that it gave no occasion of offence and it was also spoke in privat. It is said, that when Diogenes was to be sold amongst the other Slaves, he caused the Cryer to Cry, Is there any one who would buy a Master? whereupon he who bought him, suffered himself to be governed by him, receiving those Instructions of Philosophy which he gave him. In the same manner was I in the service of a Master, who nourished me, and gave me a good allowance, and I did exercise authority over him, and commanded him to abstain from many things, and I deported my self in a way that was nothing disagreeable to him, and no man else could possibly give him more thriving Counsel.
As I was one Morning in the Court, there came in a Man cloathed modestly enough, who desired to speak with him. His Servants, who understood that I possessed Clerantes altogether, did send him to me, to know, If he might have free access unto him. This man being about five and thirty years of age, and very grave in his words and gesture, was taken by me to be one of some Quality, I brought him all along the Entry to the door of Clerantes Chamber, and bidding him go boldly in, I return'd to my own affairs. In a most humble posture he stooped to Clerantes, and said unto him, Sir, The extreme Desire which I have to do you service, joyned with that to see my self delivered from the persecutions of some of my Kinred, doth cause me to come hither, to beseech you to receive me under the wings of your Protection, in ranking me in the number of your Servants. I demand neither gage nor recompence, if I have but my life it is sufficient; I can promise you I shall be able to perform those good Offices which you cannot expect from others. Sir, I am licensed in the Laws, and one of the Kings Advocats, and I understand good Letters so well, as to serve my turn on all occasions. Moreover, I have Courage [Page 9]enough, and if necessity shall require me to take the Sword into my hand, I will acquit my self as well as any Gentleman in your service. Clerantes replyed, I have not the leisure to speak unto you now, but I thank you for the good will you have to serve me; if my Family had not its full number and charge of Officers, I should imploy you in the best way I could. The man hearing this refusal, with staring eyes made answer to him, If you knew my Vertue, you would be so far from making a difficulty to entertain me, that you would intreat me your self to be one of the number of your Family, but I perceive you deserve not to be attended by such a Man as I am. Those out ragious words provoking Clerantes, he commanded those who were about him to take him away by force. They took him by the Arm to turn him out of doors, but they could not get him thither; so that Clerantes commanded them to let him alone. Being at liberty, he sat down in a chair, & having a little while kept silenc, & used some extravagant gestures, he thus madly expressed himself To thee it is that I would declare my self, magnificent Signior, and speak unto thee three words, as long as the way from Orleans to Paris: Thou knowest well enough that the Fire which in a Dew mounteth on high, doth environ the head of the Antiperistasis of thy Renown, and that the Serpent Python, who covered all the Earth, insomuch that the Masons had no room to build any more houses, was slain by quiverbearing Apollo. O the great and fatal blow! The Crowes for joy did dance to the Sound of the Hoboyes, and the three Halberdiers who were their Leaders, did play on the Cymbal, to please the Hares of the Hills. As for thee, my Illustrious, the Anthropophagi do thee great wrong, and the Elementary fire shall never quench thy thirst, although thy Physician with a nose as red as a Lobster doth perscribe thee to flea an Eel by the tail, and to rost it against the Wind with the end of a great Log that shall go directly into Germany to protest unto the Protestants that Chitterlings do fly like a Tortoise, and that on the year passed we shall see the Water of Seine sold more cheap than the blood of a Bullock. Having ended this goodly Speech, he did begin to laugh as loud as possibly he could, and you may believe that those who heard him did not forget to doe the like, but Clerantes Chamberlain did laugh more loud than any, which the Advocate perceived, and having given him two or three sound blowes with his fist, he said unto him, Canst thou not hold thy Peace thou ignorant? Dost thou think I came hither to make thee laugh? Hold your peace all of you, said Clerantes, I observe he hath some businesse of importance to declare unto me. I will relate unto you a little Fable, said he, which steals into my Fancy from the backward shop of my Brain. The Cacochymick Aesop hath nothing of it. The Eagle more mindfull of Prey than Honour, did one day mootch from the Thunder which lame Vulcan had made, as crooked as himself, for Almighty Iupiter. A very fool the Eagle was to commit so great an oversight, for every one did honour him before as the bearer of those Arms with which that great God doth punish all offences, but be took more pleasure to be at freedom, and plunder the Inhabitants of the Air. Iupiter being angry took two Pigeons, and did prefer them to the same Office in which the Eagle was. This is enough Gentlemen to inform you, that the Court shall know if it pleaseth, that my cause is right enough, it being grounded upon an Hypothesis. It was Saturn himself who played his part on my side when he was a Sergeant; There came a great Thunderbolt which troubled all things. The Sun fell into the Sea with fifty Stars who were his Pages. They drank so deep, that in the twinkling of an eye you might see them lye all dry upon the Sands, which is the place from whence ever since we have received their light. After that I threw my hat amongst the Stones, and I know not what is become of it, or any thing else.
In the pursuce of this humour he did speak a thousand times without reason, by which it was perceived that he had a troubled brain. Clerantes conceiving [Page 10]that I was he who brought him to his Chamber, did imagine I had done it to give content unto him; having called me, he understood that I knew nothing of the distraction of the Man. But to put the Advocate in a good humout, I caused all those idle fellowes to depart the room, who did too much incense him with their petulancies; I did speak friendly and pleasantly unto him, and giving him respect, I did seem to a dmire his words, which did invite him to return as pleasing words to me, and I did put on so discreet a Restraint that I did not seem to laugh at all.
On the same day there came certain men to demand him, his Servants brought them to Clerantes, to whom they declared that he was their Kinsman, and had a troubled Spirit for the grief he received in the losse of all his estate, being overthrown by his Adversary in a Sute of Law, and that in charity they would provide for him in their own houses, although he had done them great mischief in the violent fits of his distempers. I will ease you of that trouble, said Clerantes, he is come to offer himself to me, I have a desire to retain him, and give him good use. His Kinsmen being glad to be discharged of him, did leave him with Clerantes, who immediatly did give him th [...] name of Collinet, and commanded that he should be apparalled like a Gentleman.
There passed away some Weeks before he fell into his excesse of madnesse, and during that time he would deliver himself very acutely, and sometimes very eloquently, although to speak the truth he was always extravagant in his Discourse. The prohibition which was given to all the Servants not to incense him by their provoking words, was the cause that he did not leap into his rages, nor become to mischievous, as he, and others of his distemper are accustomed to be: One could not but receive coutentment in his Company, and there was not any man of quality who came unto the house, but would be glad sometimes to listen to him, and to see him perform some pleasant actions.
I was his only Governour, he called me good Master, and Clerantes good Lord. When I would touch any one to the quick, I would by one artifice or other discover his vices to him, of which he would afterwards upon any occasion give so lively a Character, that many who heard him discourse so to the purpose, would believe that he was not out of his wits, but counterfeited.
In his youth he had so clear a Spirit, that the marks thereof did still remain. Sometimes he would give admirable answers without any instructions of mine. Having heard us to speak of a Signior who was baffled in his reputation, and yet was accounted by some to be an affable and a courteous man, he mantained, that he was the most discourteous man in the World, the reason being demanded, he said, that the day before he observed him to be so incivil, that he would not go out of the way to give his Brother the upper hand, who, to his knowledge, was more aged, and more deserving than himself. It being told him that he mistook, for that Signior had no Brother at all. He made answer, I do know he hath many Brothers, and he that passed by him was one of them, he was one of the gallantest Asses that ever I saw. Another time as we were making a motion to play at dice, he said he would not play against the Signior, because he always carryed an Ace under his Doublet. Having met him one day in the Louvre he approached to him, and gave him hay out of his Pocket. The Signior turning to him, and asking him what he did mean by it, Make much of that which I give you, said Collinet, it will prove good food for thee in time of necessity. The Signior was so full of Honour that he would not be angry, but did turn it into laughter: But not long afterwards intending to be revenged of him, he called him to him, and did command him to hold his Fauchion for him a little while. Collinet having drawn it, The Signior took it out of his hand, and did put his foot upon the blade, as if he would have broken it, Whereupon Collinet cryed out, Behold Gentlemen the great [Page 11]miracle which is done to my Sword, I brought it hither without any Hilts, or defend five guard at all, and now, see, they have put the greatest Asse unto it in the world. Diverse Gentlemen at that cry did run thither, which was the cause that the Gentleman who took the Sword from him, did leave it with him, and departed in a great confusion, being resolved to assault him no more, because his replyes were so sharp and poynant.
As we were speaking one day of a Woman, who every day did inlarge her Husbands horns, he made a thousand conceits upon it. He said, that she ought to be afraid lest he should gore her with the Arms of his Head when he was offended at her: And as for himself, he might have businesse enough to find Hats that would fit his Head; and that he ought to make his doors higher to enter therein with ease, and without stooping. And but observe his subtilty, he said that Astaeon had Horns, not because he saw Diana naked, but they came to that Cuckold because he had not the curiosity oftentimes to behold his own Wife naked. He understood that a light Huswife had a Child, for which no Father could be found: You are to consider, said he, that she hath been in the Army, and her Champions having all drawn in her defence, she knows not in the scuffle who it was that gave her the blow. He compared her also to one who had pricked his hand by touching thorns, and could not tell in the whole bush which was the thorn did hurt him. Having heard of another Girl who was great with Child, and no Man could tell who was the Father of it, You may be sure, said he, that she is Helena, and she is great with child by Paris.
Hearing us to speak of nocturnal pollutions, He said, we were punished by the night, for lying on our backs. Clerantes running at the ring, at the Royal Palace, some who were present did say he did run with so much speed, that he did leave the wind behind him. That may be true enough, if I may give the explication of it, said Collinet, Without all doubt my Masters Horse did break wind when he was running in the List. Sometimes he would undertake to make verses, as you know that Poetry and madnesse are near of kin: He recited his Verses to a Gentleman who came often to Clerantes house, and understanding that he was to marry, he offered to make the Epithalamy. The Gentleman meeting him not long afterwards, said unto him, Oh Master Collinet, How doth your Muse, you told me you would pipe something at my Wedding; Pipe, said he, Upon my Faith, you and I can both of us make one good instrument; You shall provide the Horn, and I the Pipe, and of that you may make a Hornpipe. The Gentleman who had hardly been married three days, was very angry to hear himself so soon called Cuckold, and was much abashed at it. Not long before I made mention to you of Melibeus who loved gentle Diana. He came often to Clerantes, and although he would fain be in favour with me, I could not endure him, when I remembred how he traversd me in my first Loves, which came often into my mind, with an infinite number of other pleasing thoughts; for you know the first impressions will never be forgotten. I often spake to Collinet of him, so that he did abuse him more than any other, whereat Clerantes took great pleasure, for Melibeus was accounted but a Buffon at the Court, and he must speak to our Madman whether he would or no, or otherwise he would have played upon him. Their discourses were filled with Injuries and extravagant reproaches, according to their several subjects; It will be too difficult to give you an account of them in particular, I shall only relate unto you the most lively and pleasing passage which happened between these two, who were one of them almost as wise as the other: Melibeus sitting one day at Clerantes Table, they caused Collinet to sit by him, that they might dispute together. Collinet spake whatsoever he could to Melibeus, to which Melibeus did answer very coldly, being then in a more melancholy humour than ordinary. Dinner being ended, Collinet observing that he would give him no answer [Page 12]did quit the Company, and retired himself into his own Chamber, where all the day afterwards he was constrained to do Penance, because he was not permitted to come down into the Hall, as long as his Master was there present, having not 2 days before come down into the Kitchin, and beaten there a little Page whom his Master loved very dearly. Melibeus being advised of it, would call him to an account for some affronts which he had given him, and thought now was the time to put his Revenge into execution, he therefore coming up the stairs over the Hall, where his Chamber was, did pinch him on the arms, and tweak'd him by the nose, and did speak unto him such opprobrious words, that he took a good Cudgel in his hand, and began to charge him home with it. Melibeus, who had nothing to defend himself, did conceive that his surest Course was to take his Farewell of the Chamber, and to run away: Therefore to testifie his speed, he leaped down the Stairs three by three, but Collinet pursued him, and at every leap did overtake him with a sound blow, either on his head or on his shoulders. When he was almost at the Bottom of the stairs he made a little pause, and with his hat in his hand, making a most humble Reverence, he said unto him, Sir, I do beseech you to excuse me, that I doe not wayt upon you to the Foot of the Stairs, because I am forbidden to passe any further; otherwise you may assure your self, I would expresse my self most diligent in my attendance on you. Having spoke those words, he returned into his Chamber, and Melibeus did make as much hast down as before, without the least regard unto the Complement of Collinet. It grieved me not at all to see Melibeus so intreated: and because he appeared to be in a good humor, Collinet his Enemy being gone, I desired him to repeat by heart those Complements which heretofore he had used to Diana. He had not forgot one of them; and because he would act them with the greater grace, he caused Clerantes Page to sit down, to personate the part of Diana, and did court him in the very same Complements: And if at any time he failed, or extravagantly did proceed, following the Caprichiousnesse of his own Fancy, I did demonstrate to him how he ought to speak it, and did act his part for him. Melibeus did swell with despite, to see how I did play upon him for his old Love, but he durst not return a word, because he observed it was agreeable to Clerantes. At the last, being able no more to endure our Scoffs, he by little and little did withdraw himself from our Company, and came no more unto us.
Behold how Collinet here had assisted me to take vengeance of a Man, who, to speak the truth, had offended me in the most sensible part of my Soul. This Fool, who had so many Rational Intervalls, was profitable to me in many other things. He sometimes would discourse of things which would serve us as good Counsel in our most important affairs, accordingly as it is said, That Wise men learn oftentimes more of Fools, than Fools can know to learn of Wise men; Who will deny but that his words were Oracles, when he shall understand what I am now about to account unto you?
One day being in the Chamber of Clerantes, having observed a stattering Courtier who importuned his Master with humble Intreaties, to do a Courtesie for him which lay in his power to perform, He took a Bisket out of his Pocket, and did shew it to a little Dogg that was in the Chamber; The Dogg did leap upon him, did lick him, and did shake his tayl, and seemed to demand the bread of him. But he did lift up his Arm as high as he could, and with an extravagant Voice, cried out, What! You would have me give it you, would you? You shall not have it. Give it him Collinet, said Clerantes, who looked on them, for he hath deserved it by his obsequiousnesse. I imitate you Sir, Signior Clerantes I imitate you, said Collinet. [Page 13]In what do you imitate me, said Clerantes? In this, replyed Collinet, that you must be intreated and flatter'd, before you will grant that Man what he would have, who now speaketh to you. It is a great pleasure that you take to see your self importuned; I am of advise that you ought not too soon to be deprived of that pleasure. The Means we must use to maintain it, is not to give that which is demanded of us, or at least to hold off the Petitioners as long as civilly we can; After we have once granted them their desire, they will court us no longer, as I will shew unto you by Example. Having spoke those words, he threw the Bisket to the Dogg, who did run under the Bed to eat it, which being done, he came back again to Collinet to demand more. He returns, said Clerantes, to make much of you again, you do wrong to accuse him of Ingratitude. After he knows that I have no more to give him, he will leave me I will warrant you, said Collinet; And speaking those words, he kicked him with his foot, which made him run away, and he return'd no more to make much of him again, although he often call'd him to him. Observe now, said Collinet, all those petitioning people who come to wait upon you, they are all of the humor of your Dogg, therefore take heed of them. Thus Collinet was the Cause that his Master, understanding that Fools do ordinarily Prophesie, did make much of his advertisement, and became afterwards an extraordinary Husband.
At that time the Troubles began again in France. Clerantes was amongst the Principals of one Party, which caused many to be much discontented at it. Collinet was not well pleased neither with the Warr to which Clerantes was inforced to go; He therefore discovered to Clerantes what he thought of it, as he came out of a Chamber, being called thithet to Counsel by some Personages of eminent Quality. My good Lord (said he) These Counsellors are all Men of the Long Robe, they never saw any battels, but in Pictures, or in Books; If they were worth any thing, they would never perswade you as they do, to eschew Peace. Do they know the Desolations which do follow the events of a Battel? one hath his Arm shot off, another hath his Head cloven assunder, others are trampled under the Feet of the Horses, and many die, being mad with Rage. I represent this unto you, because I believe you are no more experienced than themselves in the affairs of Warr. You are not to be blamed, if you refuse to assist in this Service of the Warr; for what Glory is there in it? The bravest Man in the world is oftentimes laid on the Ground by a Bullet from a Musket, which peradventure some Coward did shoot to begin his Apprentiship in the War. If Caesar, Alexander, Amadis de Gaul, or Charlemain did live in these days, they would not engage themselves so willfully as heretofore they did. Their subjects also having need of their persons, would disswade them from adventuring themselves in such desperate encounters. For my self, I delight not in Murder, and had rather be present at the Death of Pullets than of Men: Let us therefore return to Paris, and make good chear: It is better to see Broaches than Pikes, and Pots than Drums, and the Utensils of a Kitchin, than the Utensils of Warr. Your Imployment must be, to see if the Canons be well mounted. If the Troups of Horse be well quartered; but in Paris your March is only to see handsom Ladies with whom delightfully you may passe away your time.
Although that Clerantes did turn all his Discourse into Laughter at that present; yet afterwards he made profit of it, as of a secret advertisement which Heaven did send unto him by a Man in the midst of his Madnesse, and approved of what he did allege, as if they had been the pregnantest Reasons of the profoundest Philosophers in the world.
Peace being made we returned to Paris, where Clerantes addressing himself to the fair, and the fair-spoken Lucy, he did find in her more powerfull charms than ever, and was so strongly enamour'd of her, that he never departed [Page 14]departed out of her house. One day he took with him Collinet, having put him into a frolick humour, by the means of two or three glasses of Wine which he had caused him to drink more than ordinary.
Collinet did sometimes behold her beauty, which infinitly did please him, and sometimes he would look upon his Master who still did constantly gaze upon her: At the last he observed that his Master did cast down his eyes on Lucies Breasts, to see her Paps between the small openings of her Handkerchief, which did inflame him with a vehement desire. Collinet taking more notice of it, did take a pair of Cizers from the Chambermaid that waited on her, and gently approaching unto Lucy did cut the strings with which the Handkerchief was made fast, and took it from her. She turned to him to reprove him for his impudence, but he immediatly did prevent here, and said, You do much wrong to my Master, to conceal that from him which he hath so great a desire to behold, let him look his fill; and if you will be perswaded by me, you may permit him also to touch your Breasts. You see, said Clerantes, I cannot fail for an Advocate, my cause is so good, that it is even able to defend it self, neverthelesse I am not assured to gain it, because you are both the Judge and the party that is interested also. I know not what to think of it, said Lucy, for your Advocat doth use a rude violence with his Hands, and no smooth perswasion with his Tongue. Clerantes observing that Lucy was not contented with that action, did whisper her in the ear, and acquainted her with his humour, which greatest Princes do pardon in such persons, without taking exception at what is done. In a moment she was appeased, and seemed glad to have the Company of Collinet, of whom from diverse persons she had heard much before. Clerantes desiring to make her merry with him, did command him to begin some discourse to entertain the Company. Having seated himself in a Chair he immediatly began in this manner, with admirable action and rouling of his eyes. Lady, your Merit which shines like the Lantern of forgetfulnesse, is so able to obscure the Ecclipse of the morning, which begins to appear in the Hemispere of the Lycanthropy, that there is not a Gentleman in all the Court, who will not be content to be curld by the Northern wind to please you. Your Complexion doth surpasse the Onions in rednesse. Your Hair is as yellow as the excrement of a young Infant. Your Teeth which are not one of them taken out of the Carmelins shop, do seem to be made of the Shoeing Horn of some great Prince. Your Mouth doth open and shut like a Trunk. To be short, Phoebus being at Supper at Coifles, and to pay six Pistols for his Ordinary, doth not eat better Pasties made of Chitterlings than those which I do tast of. And as Achilles did draw the Son of Priam about the walls of Troy, so doth the Court drag me to be installed in her favour: but I will beat her soundly for it with the Brims of my Hat, although she better doth deserve to be strappadoed.
I know not what you make account to doe, said Clerantes, Tell me Collinet, Did not you assay to discourse upon the perfections of Madamoifelle? why do you not perfect what you undertook? I am going about it, said he, Go too then. Fair Nymph, since I must praise you, I will tell you that you have captived me; it is sufficient: for you shall never captive me again, although you had as many attractions about you as be Oranges in Kormandy. Alas I must confesse all, or my heart will break. The Devil take you to advance his patrimony, if (Lady) I am not more amorous of you than a Beggar of his Wallet; when I see you I am ravished as a Hog that is pissing in a Stye. If you please, in spite of Rowland and Sacripant you shall be my Angelica, and I will be your Medor, for there is no doubt but the greatest part of the Courtiers are more beasts than the beasts that carry them. They do not imploy themselves at all, not so much as in one exercise of virtue, they do nothing else but throw three or four square bones upon a Table; and I have not yet spoke all. [Page 15]The other day with a pair of spectacles of Amsterdam I discovered as far as the Isle where all the Souls of those dissolute fellows go which are metamorphosed into horrible Monsters. As for the Ladies, they cause themselves to be tickled and tickled again, without dreaming of Repentance, they are laid on their backs in the inner Chambers, and the outward Chambers, and in the Garrets, and never think how hard the Plancher is; and they thrust in something, I know not what it is, under their Coats, It is their Busk that I doe mean.
This goodly Panegyrick was concluded with this Song, So long you goe sweet Guilmott, and with that, you spoil me there with Pimpalo, which he sung with so loud a throat, and made so dismal a noise, that he made Clerantes deaf, who commanded him to entertain the Company with a more civil respect; Whereupon he began to talk again at random, and intermingled his discourse with some truths that had relation to the Court, which made all the Company to laugh outright. In the mean time there came in a man cloathed in black Sattin, who was not well pleased at the affronts which Collinet had put upon him, for he told Lucy that he had a Face which represented some antient Medal of a Cuckold, and that his Nose was made like a Tray, wherefore he took Collinet aside by himself, and whispered him in his ear that Clerantes might not hear him. Master Madman, you counterseit your self to be out of your wits, but if you meddle with me I will have you soundly whipped into your Senses again. It was well for him that having spoken those words he immediatly departed the Room, for otherwise Collinet who began to grow into a great choler would have done him a shrewd turn. On his return he did give me a faithfull account of his adventures, which I suddenly apprehended, and making mention of the Gentleman in black, I found that he was full of bitternesse and libell, I promised him upon my faith that I would take his Cause into my protection, and be fully revenged of his Enemy, although I did not then know who it was. And just as I could wish it, walking one Evening in the Street with my Train about me, whereof Collinet was one, I perceived a far off one of the Treasurers who not long before had detained from me the moyety of a Sum which I was to receive, and to requite him according to his deserts, I did shew him to Collinet, and told him that undoubtedly he was the Man who had affronted him in Lucies house. He who did believe me, did suddenly arm himself, taking two Eggs from a Chandler at the next door, which he did thow at his face, and spoiled his worshipfull Pickadilly, which was set forth like a Peacocks tail. Moreover, he gave him six or seaven sound blowes on the Nose, which made him bleed like a Bullock. I passed directly on without so much as looking behind me, that no man might conceive I had any hand in the Tumult. My Lackeys did not then follow me so close as they were accustomed, they all imployed themselves to assist Collinet, against whom the Treasurer took the resolution to revenge the indignity he had received, they assaulted him with their Batoons, whiles our Madman resting himselself did look upon them, and said, you will not threaten to whip one any more? Do you remember it Master Villain. The Citizens who knew the Treasurer did assemble themselves to rescue him from the Lackeys, who (to avoid their fury which had armed them with rusty Halberds) did say unto them, Gentlemen, that dishonest man did abuse one of Clerantes Gentlemen, It is he whom you see yonder; yes forsooth, said Collinet, I am a Gentleman belonging to Clerantes; At the name of Clerantes they all made a stop, and my little youths one after another did escape away, leaving their Enemy covered with blood.
I made use also of Collinet to punish many other unworthy fellows who in vain addressed themselves afterwards to Clerantes to make their Complaints of him, who gave them no other answer, but that they must not regard the actions of a Madman. There was one who told him once in a reproving way of admonishment, [Page 16]that he ought to keep him locked up in his house, that he might no more affront those whom he met in the street. I at that time was present, and observing that Clerantes did not like that Counsel, and made a pause to consider what answer to return unto it, I said unto him, Sir, Whatsoever they allege, Shut not up your Madman until the People are become wiser, he is of marvellous use to tame the pride of so many vile Spirits as are now in France, whom he knows by a certain Instinct which Nature hath imprinted in him. Clerantes approving my Reasons, neglected the advice which was given him, and Collinet more than ever did jut it in the streets, being so richly apparrelled, that he was taken for some Baron, but the people were never more amazed to see him, than when sometimes he ravingly would fall into the Center of his Follies.
At that time the Allurements of Lucy had more and more inthralled the heart of Clerantes, and inforced him to seek out a Remedy; and because he understood that I was well practised in the Art of Love, he was willing to discover his passion unto me, which I did perceive before. He told me that he had a Desire to imploy me in that affair, and did more esteem of my particular Merit, than of all the Men in the World; And that he would not imitate the greatest part of the Court, who were accustomed to put such affairs into the hands of the most Ignorant and abject persons: for he knew that it was necessary to be provided with a Man of an extraordinary understanding for the carrying on of such an enterprize, and that Lovers ought to esteem those as their tutelar Gods, who do procure them to arrive at the happinesse they doe so much desire.
This Discourse which tended to my advantage, did invite me to promise to be assistant to him in all things, for my heart panted after nothing more than those sweet Pleasures, with which I was glad to see him so much possessed: But Lucy had a Gentlewoman that followed her, called Florence, who was superlatively beautifull, whom I most passionately loved, which caused me to take a great delight to go oftentimes unto her Mistresses house with an intention only to look on her. In my judgement she had farre more temptations than her Mistresse, who was but black in Comparison of her. I know not what Lucy did think of it, unlesse she trusted altogether on the charms and the enticements of her own Spirit, which indeed were capable enough to cause her as highly to be esteemed by those who did speak unto them both together.
I counselled Clerantes to go no more to Lucy, until she was willing to grant unto him the favour he desired, because to preserve his Reputation in the eye of the world, he ought to discover as little as possibly he could of the Imperfection of his Love, seeing the sottishnesse of Men is so great, that they all run on that Bias which they ought not to do, and believe that the visible marks of a gallant Spirit, are those of a deformed One.
He did not contradict what I said, for I was his only Oracle, and mauger all the Men of the World, he was determined alwayes to follow my Counsels. Having therefore resolved to deprive himself for a certain time of the frequentation of Lucies Company, the Question was to find Expedients to manifest his passion unto her, which as yet he had not done. He though it requisite to send a Letter of Love unto her, which he gave me Commission to dictate for him; for (not to flatter him) his discourse was not polished enough for Lucy, whose Spirit was Politenesse it self; I told him that I would draw up his Letter in such a fashion, that in addressing himself to his Mistresse, his greatnesse should receive no blemish, for he should shew a Spirit more frolick than serious, it being not expedient that he should descend so low, as to make apparent the transportations which are commonly found in the expressions of true Lovers. I come now to tell you the Contents of the Letter.
[Page 18] ‘ If your beauties were not extremely absolute, you should never have the power to have surprized me, because I have made a vow to preserve my liberty entire. Understand (Rare Mervail) the advantage you have purchased, and give thanks to your merit for it. Consider that the Gods have not given you the Prerogative to inflame all hearts with love, without feeling the least spark of fire in your own. I dare say they should be unjust in so doing. To what intent should they bestow upon you so many perfections, if they should not teach you how to make use of them? It would be only to torment Mortals, in shewing them the chief work of their hands, and taking from them the hope to possesse it, after it hath filled them with a world of desires. Be not cruel to your self, in losing that time which you may imploy to your greatest advantage. You have made no love as yet, but in words only, begin it now in effects with me, who breath after the happiness that you should take that resolution; you will tast of new delights, which it is possible you have not yet thought of, because as yet you have not had the experience of them, We will passe away the days in imbraces and kisses, you shall receive from me those hommages which shall fill you with glory and pleasure; I will shew my self so ready, and so able to render you the greatest services which a Lover possibly can promise, that you shall receive more content than your imagination can propound unto your self. Follow my counsel dear Lucy, the light of my eyes, Resolve to do as I advise you, and make an assay of the pleasures of Love, and set a guard no more unprofitably on the presents of Nature. If you had but the least knowledge of the affection which I do bear unto you, I doubt not but you would make choice of me to make you sensible what are those pleasures of which I do speak unto you.’
With this Letter I sent also a Copy of Verses to her, which so lively did represent the delights of Love, that the devoutest Woman in the World would have been moved, when she did read them, with the titillations of the flesh. I leave it to you to judge if this gallant young Lady were not touched with them; she did bite her Lips in pronouncing the words softly to herself, sometimes she would smile, and her eyes would sparkle with a sudden transportation. I who observed all her actions, took great pleasure to behold her, believing she would return some favourable answer to Clerantes; but instead of doing it she turned it all to sport, and took not the Pen in her hand to write back an answer unto her Lover. Neverthelesse she greatly esteemed what he had sent her, and did commend it for a very good piece, and knowing by the stile that it was none of his own, she strongly conjectured that I was the Author, and loved me instead of loving him who breathed forth so many sighs for her, and said unto her self, Since Clerantes hath not the wit to represent unto me himself the pleasure, of Love, it is a true sign that he cannot make me to tast of them. As for Francion, whose strain hath traced them out unto me, I believe he understands better what is to be done. The proofs which I see of his Civility do infinitely attract me. By those things which happened afterwards, I presume that she thus disputed within her self.
Her Intention was afterwards discovered to me, when speaking to her of Clerantes, Why Francion (said she) and laughed, Have you made a vow to Heaven to speak never for your self, but to procure good to others altogether? No, Lady, I assure you (I made answer) It were a great folly for me to look on the fair Mark which my imperfections tell me I must never look to hit. There is no place so high, or so retired (replyed she) in which you may not be made most welcome, if you have a desire unto it. If I have a desire to be entertained in your favour (said I) shall I hope to arrive to the Butt of my design? Oh God (she answered) do not speak of me, I must not put my self for an example, I am none of those marvellous beauties which have that worth in them to attract your affections.
Although she dissembled her desires, I perceived well enough whither they did tend, and so gallantly I did assault her, that at the last she rendred her [Page 18]self, and confessed to me, that she reserved for me that good will, which I desired for another. Although I was not so passionate for her as for Florence, yet finding an occasion to enjoy a pretious and a ripe contentment, I did tickle my self, and perswading my self to believe that she was more beautifull by far than ever before she seemed unto me to be, I with my own hand did wound my own heart for her.
I followed her so close, that one Evening finding my self all alone with her in her Chamber, she gave me free permission that I should kisse her, and kisse her again, and shew unto her how judicious was the election which she had made of me to be her Servant, and having the opportunity to begin that sweet exercise, we greedily did make use of it.
If some severe Censurer should now hear me, he would say that I was perfidious to play the wanton with her, having promised Clerantes to gain her good will for him: but what a sottishnesse were this; for if I should let slip so rare an occasion, I should have deserved to have been mocked by all the world. My own pleasure ought to be more near unto me, and I am to be more sensible of it, than of the pleasures of another.
You do believe (I do assure my self) that the familiarity which I had with Lucy did take me off from courting any more her beautifull Servant, but you are infinitely deceived, for I loved her still more passionately than I am able to expresse, and in whatsoever place I did meet her, I did not fail to testifie as much unto her. Her gentle heart was at last overcome by my submissions, and by the Presents which in secret I gave unto her; Neverthelesse we could neither of us find the opportunity to solace our selves, because she never stirred from her Mistresse.
Heaven one day so ordained it for my happinesse, that Lucy entertained some of her Kinred in her chamber, who continued with her many hours. I was just come within her doors, when beholding Florence upon the Stairs, she called me up to her Wardrop, where I kissed her at my own leisure; I threw her on the Bed, and prevailed so far, that I proceeded further. But chance did turn, and the Destinies immediatly did shew themselves to be unpleased with me; Lucy having a desire to withdraw her self a little upon some private occasions, did go out of her Chamber, and came into the Wardrop, where we were, having opened the door which was double locked, she saw her Maid putting down her Petticoats, and comming off from the Bed. A Natutal Vermilion did cloath her cheeks, as well by the vehemence of our action, as for the shame she had to be thus discovered, and besides that her hair was disordered and hanging down beneath her shoulders. Lucy looking on her, demanded of her if she came from sleep, and proceeding in her discourse she drew open one of the Curtains of the Bed to seek out the Chamber pot, and perceived me pulling up my Breeches on the farther side of the Bed; She demanded of me what I did there, I made answer to her without any stammering at all, that I came to her Maid to have her mend the pleats of my Breeches that were ungathered. She made answer, you should have gone more into the light, and to those who make profession of such work. Do you think to delude me? On the other side she observed that her waiting Gentlewoman had her Breasts all open, and her Gorget unpinned, because I had a desire to kisse her Breasts, which made her more fully to take notice of our trespasse. How now, you little piece of impudence, said she, do you bring in young men hither to take your delights with them? you do dishonour my house, It were a good deed to beat you. If I must be punish'd for such a sin (said Florence very confidently) being in that extremity, You do deserve as great a punishmenc as my self; and if the houses were dishonoured where such things are committed, you have dishonoured your own house as well as my self; I will not tell you how, for it belongs not to me, nor is it for me to take notice, or inform how [Page 19]things go within. I have done nothing which you have not given me an example for, and for more also; all that you can allege, is, that being not of so great a quality as your self, peradventure it is not lawfull for me to assume unto my self that liberty which you injoy.
This bold answer made Lucy more ashamed, because it proceeded from her whom she intended to have reproved, and casting a discontented eye on me she did goe out of the Wardrop, and violently clapped the door together. For all her jealousie I ceased not to make good use of my time, and did not leave the Company of Florence until one hour afterwards: I did demonstrate unto her, that we must finish the work which we had begun, and if we had done nothing at all, yet as great a suspition would lie upon us, as if we had done whatsoever could he imagined. Her Mistresse howsoever did not dare speak unto her of any thing for fear she should discover that she was guilty of the same Crime, of which she accused another.
Clerantes who still importuned me to sollicite her by any manner whatsoever to grant him a remedy for his Love, did constrain me to write unto her a Letter more passionate than the former, but daring not to deliver it my self, I did send it to her by another hand. She thinking throughly to be revenged of me, did write unto Clerantes, that by singular proofs she did take a full knowledge of his affection to her; And not many days afterwards Clerantes coming to her, he obtained his desires of her, of which I was more glad than Lucy did conceive.
I could never entirely settle my affection on one Lady, because I could not find any who deserved to be perfectly loved, and neverthelesse all those almost whom but casually I incountred, did powerfully captivate my affections, although in the judgement of all the world they were not guilty of much beauty. If any of my friends seeing me to look upon a Girl, did say unto me, You are amorous of her, I immediatly became so, although before I never so much as thought whether her beauties carried any charmes with them or not; my affections were all of them of no long continuance, and one object did make me to forget another. I arrived at last to the knowledge of a certain Woman of an excellent complexion, to whom I did participate all my desires, she was a Citizens Wife of Tours, and was come to Paris to follow a Sute in Law; She was a gallant Woman, and of so great an understanding, that her Husband being troubled with the Gout, did imploy her to sollicite his affairs for him; One of my friends bringing me to the acquaintance of her, I found her fit for my purpose; and to oblige her to me, I made use of all my friends to follow her Sute, and to dispatch it according to her desires. This Courtesie accompanied with my Courtship did easily gain her, and I had my pleasure at very little or no expence. To speak the Truth, she was a delicate Woman, but when I found that she was not contented with one Servant, and began to affect others as well as my self, I made no more esteem of her, but by little and little retired my self from her conversation, without demanding of her if her law businesse were almost brought to an end, or not, or if she were ready to return to her own Country.
Three Months passed away without receiving the least tydings of her, when being in bed one morning, I saw her enter into my Chamber attended by two Citizens Wives, who seemed to be two antient Votaresses in the Temple of Venus. I was lodged in an out part of Clerantes house, and there was an ascent from the Street but of one pair of Stairs to my Chamber, so that without any hinderance, or the least examination, they came confidently up to my Chamber door. I entertained them very civilly, and caused chairs to be brought for them to sit down near unto my Bed. I demanded of them what important affair had obliged them to come so early to me, since they had commanded me no service to perform for them? My old Sweet-heart using her [Page 20]cusomed familiarity did speak for them all, and said, Sir, The occasion that hath brought me hither, is, that being inforced to return to Tours, I was loath to depart without taking my leave of you, having received so many testimonies of affection from you. I am constrained to come to see you, because you will not take the pains to visit me, and it doth seem to me that you are pleased to forget her whom sometimes you have professed to have loved most intirely. I have brought with me two honest Gentlewomen of my acquaintance, because I would have my accesse unto you more assured, being but a Stranger, and comming unto so great a house as this, where there are so many people. I did thank her in the best manner that I could for the good will she did bear me, and did beseech her to excuse me that I had so long discontinued her Company, which I imputed to a sicknesse which for a long time had confined me to my Chamber. But presently she changed her course of speech, and taking me off from my Complements, she said unto me, Sir, That I may languish no longer under the unquietnesse that I feel, permit me to speak one word unto you which I have upon my heart. You know that on my first arrival to this City, you came acquainted with me, and I granted you all the favours which a Man can desire, and if any thing beyond that could be imagined, you might easily have obtained it; Neverthelesse you have never done any thing for me, but only imployed some few steps and good words for the procuring of my Processe, which is yet but half effected; Do you think, Sir, that you can delight your self with Women at so cheap a rate? Nay which is more, instead of gaining any thing from you, I have expended my estate upon you, you never came to visit me, but I made a Collation for you, & if I have been at great charges to cloath my self according unto every fashion, it hath been only to please you. This hath put me upon this resolution to address my self unto you, to intreat you in some measure to recompense my losses, being now on my departure to Tours. My Husband knoweth what a round sum of silver he did give me, and the moderate expence I ought to be at: What will he say when he shall find a great deal more laid forth than I had need to have done, and that I am here indebted on all sides. He will suspect that have ll governed both his mony and my self, and I shall live no longer a good hour with him. You for whom I have falsified the faith which I have made unto another, and are the only cause that I have so ill imployed my money, are not you in Conscience obliged to discharge my Creditors? and moreover that I may not put you to any disgrace or trouble by Arrests, ought you not to give me some honest recompense for having so much favoured you, as I have done? If you had trafficked with ordinary Baggages, they would have made you pay, before you had gone from them, for every kisse they had given you; Will you complain of that which you shall given unto a Woman, who hath devoted her self to none but unto you, and whom you cannot reproach for any Vice of which you are not the cause? I will refer my self to these Gentlewomen what they shall think fitting to be done herein, they are so wise that they will determine nothing but what will be reasonable.
This cunning Woman had no sooner ended her Oration, but she who was the most antient of the two Citizens did say unto me, The Gentlewoman hath laid open her Case with great understanding; you ought not to refuse or deny any thing which she demandeth of you. Remember the pleasures she hath done you, and if that will not oblige you, let the compassion of her necessities prevail upon you, she must pay her debts before she can goe out of the City. For six months together you have been every day with her, what is it that such a length of time doth not deserve? Give her only but three thousand Franks and I believe she will be contented.
When I observed that these unworthy women were come so boldly to intrap me, I resolved to make sport with them; Neverthelesse putting on a serious [Page 21]countenance, I said unto them, I confesse I am much obliged to Madamoiselle, howsoever I might have received many more favours from her than as yet I have, I have not seen her these three Months, and it is possible that she hath got other acquaintance, with whom she hath been as familiar as with my self, but that is nothing, it was not her fault that I did not see her oftner, and I am not exempted to recompense her for that which she hath done for me, I am ready to content her, if that you please to cut off some part of the great sum which you demand of me. Sir you speak like a Gentleman said the youngest of the Citizens wives, I know she will not tyrannize over you, she will not open her mouth to discover unto any what is the recompense you will give her. She will be satisfied if you bestow upon her but two thousand Franks. Two thousand Franks? (said I) for what think you. Do you think I can get mony as doe the Treasurers, with the dash of a Pen? you must consider that I am but a poor Gentleman, who have nothing but a Sword and a Cloak, and if Madamoiselle will be governed by reason, let her moderate the Tax a little. Well then (said the elder Citizens Wife) give her a thousand Franks, but on my troth she cannot discharge you for altogether on the receipt of so poor a sum. Good God (said I) it will utterly ruine me, I will appeal unto her my self. My antient Mistresse said unto me, because you do make your sell so poor, I see I must content my self with five hundred Livers, but I will have them presently, before we give you leave to go out of your Chamber. You have money enough by you to pay a greater Sum.
When I perceived they would proceed so violently with me, I determined to rid my hands of them, and finding they were resolved to abate nothing of the five hundred Livers, I said unto them, well then, I will pay you presently, and calling my Boy unto me, Biscayn, said I, come hither immediatly, and make up your Accounts with me. Tell me your receipt, and your expences. How much money was it that I did give you the other day? You gave me, Sir, a Pistol, said my Boy, out of which I payed four Quardecues to your Landress, I gave eight Souse to your Lute-maker for half a dozen of strings for your Lute, and I must give ten Souse to the Cobler for soling my Shoes, and three Souse I am to pay to the Woman that starche your Bands. Well Sirrah (said I) what remains? give me a just account. The Boy taking the money out of his Pocket, made answer to me, Sir, there doth remain a piece of five Souse, half a Teston, a piece of Three Blanks, a Carolus, and some Doubles. See Ladies here, (said I) all the money that I and my Lackey have, It is at your Service with all my heart, if you will content your selves with it, otherwise I know not what good I can be able to doe unto you. My Gallants seeing themselves so mocked, did begin to upbraid me, and call me Beggar, and Paultry Fellow, and all the opprobrious words they could deliver, whereupon calling them Sluts and Baggages, I was about to rise from my Bed to drive them down the Stairs, but of themselves they made all the hast they could, fearing that worse would befall them. They returned not so peaceably as they came, for my Boy pursued them with Clerantes Lackeys who in their way did assault them at every turn, and I never since have received the least news of them, but to divert my self I had the choice of many Mistresses, and did make Love on the one side, and on the other.
That which above all things I desired was the Company of those Women who were seen but by few men, for fear I should get the disease As for Bawdy houses I always hated them, and to speak the truth, it is the brutish appetite of a Dogg to take his pleasure with the first he meets with, being one whom he never saw before, and peradventure whom he shall never see again. Yet sometimes I did goe unto them to keep my friends company, and sometimes by my self to see the fashion of such places, and to recreate my self with a diversity of contentments. One Evening not knowing what to do, I did go unto [Page 22]a Bawd, who perpetually demanded of me what I would have, although she had never a Girl in the House: At the last she did send her Servant to fetch one, who she said was the Pearl of France. It was then extremely cold, and yet this good woman had neither Fire nor Candle. She warmed her self in the meditation of the Fire of her first Loves. For my self I called for a fire, and gave my Boy money to buy me some Billets and a Fagot; In the mean time the Mistresse of the House did entertain me with a thousand discourses, and the most pleasing ones in the world; She did protest unto me, that since the beginning of Lent she gained but little, or nothing at all; she demanded of me, if I would appoint a day to come unto her, I should see one of the handsomest Citizens Wives of Paris; I made answer, with all my heart, and would fain know of her on what day it should be. On my faith (said she) I shall have much to do to perform what I have promised, but because you appear to be a gallant young Man, I will content you. The Gentlewoman of whom I spake hath a Husband who is very jealous of her, and will not permit her to go abroad, but only on Holydays, and Sundays, I will acquaint her with it, and God forgive me for my procuring, it is likely that one day when she is to go abroad either to hear Masse or Vespers, she will come hither privatly to give you a meeting I was amaz'd at the discours of this Woman, who would appear to be devout & sinful at the same instant, & it left such an impression upon my Soul, that I told her I had no mind to see her. I dare assure you that as there is nothing which sooner doth reform the vicious man than the distast which sometimes doth possesse him against his own Vice, so in such places we shall often see such spectacles that they will even make us to hate those Sins we are about to commit, and since even in this place I was touched with some Devotion, I can hardly be induced to repent that I was there. I would proceed further in these discourses, were it not that I must here give a period to this Story, which is none of the worst. My Lackey being returned with the Wood, I would not have it lighted until she was come who was sent for, that so she might partake of my joy. I attended her coming two hours with great impatience. The Mistresse of the House knew not any more what new account to deliver to me to passe away the time. At the last, seeing it was night, I would not stay any longer for so vain a trifle, and being sorry for nothing but the losse of my money which was laid forth in Wood, I said that the beggarly Baggage who made me stay so long should not warm her self by my fire when she came, and commanding my Lackey to carry the Wood away, I caused him to lay it down at the first convenient Corner we did come to, and to give fire to it with a Torch which he had lighted at a Tavern, and there I warmed my self, having none in my Company but my Lackey, and another who stood by him.
This Account I thought requisite to give unto you; and because that many more stories of the same Nature are come into my Memory, I will give you a particular Account of them, where you shall observe the like gallantries which I have put in execution, to enjoy the pleasure only to boast that I have performed them, and it hath been not always in infamous places, that I have pursued such fancies, for I dare assure you, that I have never afterwards returned to these Academies of Love, for elsewhere we may find occasions enough to passe away our time in vanity and pleasure.
THE SEVENTH BOOK OF THE COMICAL HISTORY OF FRANCION.
AS Francion made then a stop, The Master of the House caused Breakfast to be brought in; for he would not have him to finish his History, until he had recovered his strength by the advantage of food, and in the mean time they had the leisure betwixt themselves to consider of the variety of the humours of Men; how some of them do only study to be apparent by their Habits, and others by their affected language, and that the Grandees of the world do oftentimes take more delight to speak unto Fools, than unto Wisemen, and that those who do seem to be most modest, have often had within their Breasts the most unruly passions, and inordinate Loves. We have heard the narration which might instruct us to hate Vice; for whatsoever Countenance Francion did put upon it, he understood well enough that all the pleasures which he took with Lucy and her Maid were not comparable to a virtuous and a chast life. And because he then frequented the Company of Women abandoned to their own pleasures, he hath since confessed (as we have been informed) that there is nothing more abominable than such polluted Creatures, and he himself hath affirmed, that nothing doth render the Sex more odious, than sometimes to reflect upon them in those infamous places where they are to be found. We will in the same manner affirm, that it cannot be impertinent in this place to discourse of their wicked life, because it will conduce to render them more odious, and that those who follow them thither, may avoid them more than ever Francion did. After he had made a short Breakfast, he did speak as you shall find in this following Discourse.
Although the heats of my youth did inforce me to debauchments, as I have represented to you, yet even then I entertained thoughts of preferment. I had been to see my Mother in Britany, where she did give me many excellent instructions. I considered with my self it was my only course to obtain the countenance of one of the Kings Favourites, who would prefer me far better than Clerantes: I therefore gained the acquaintance of three or four of his nearest Kinsmen, and did testifie unto them the desire which I had to do service to any of the Royal Race. At the beginning (to recompense me for the trouble I was at to court them) they promised me that undoubtedly I should obtain a certain place that I desired, which was in the power of Praxiteles (you know well enough that he was in great favour with the King) but afterwards [Page 2]when I did put these Signiors in mind of their promises, I never found any thing so cold as they were; I thought their Souls had been furred over with a Leprosie, and that if they were not continually spurred on with intreaties and demonstrances they were not capable of any sense at all. I will tell you the truth; Their good fortune, I believe, hath made them half stupid, or else they counterfeit themselves to be so. If I did discourse to them on one Subject, they would put me upon another, and if they were constrained to answer me upon any businesse, their answer was so extravagant, and so difficult, that I could not understand them.
I had made a Treatise in which I assayed to prove, that the Merit of Praxiteles was as great as his Prosperity; but they would not permit that it should be Extant; for they said, It came about by a policy of State, fearing it would make the Envy increase, which was born unto their Fortune. Who will not judge but that in this they acknowledged their Kinsman was not worthy of the many praises that I had given him, and that my Flatteries being too grosse, they would rather have incited the People to have mock'd, than respected him? I have since repented my self, that I had done him so much honour as to write for him, and I believed, that if Heaven did not favour me in what I undertook, it was for praising so unworthy a person. The place which I desired, was given to another, who peradventure never sued for it, but I will tell you, the Losse was as much on their side, as one mine; for losing me, they lost a Friend, and a Faithfull Servant, who was prepared and resolved to assist them in the affaires of greatest Importance, and they took a Fool to manage the place, who had neither Vnderstanding nor Fidelity. I besought Clerantes to speak unto them for me, but he would do nothing therein, alleging, that his Authority was of no strength in those affairs, and that there were some Vnderlings at Court, who, arising unto Dignities from some poor place, did [...]ake delight to undervalue Signiors of Quality; and moreover, he would not so much debase himself as to supplicate to them for any thing. Finding this, I had recourse to those Consolations which the Antient Philosophers do prescribe unto unto us against Adversities: and although I could not rejoyce in any prosperity, as many others, yet I had this to comfort me in my adversity, That I was not a slave as they were. I observed then plainly enough, that to obtain Preferment in the world, there was nothing lesse profitable than to deserve it; and I found it remarkable, that (to gain esteem and reputation in the Court) it were better farre to make profession of Buffonry than of Wisdom. I knew not how to dissemble, nor to make leggs and faces, parts very necessary in a Courtier, and if I had known how to have made them, I had not so vile a Soul as by such Arts to advance my self: I loved always the acutenesse and flourish of Wit, and prompt words, which do testifie a good understanding, but not those words which are more fit for a Juggler, or a Corn-cutter, than a Scholar, such as the foolish Courtiers do admire; and moreover, when I would speak any thing agreeable to Sense, it must be either particularly, to content my self, or some others who were of my Complexion and Condition, and not to content those who did conceive themselves to be farre above me.
Because, therefore, I could not procure their Favour who were the greatest Men at the Court, I consorted my self with those who make it their businesse only to laugh, and to make love; in whose Company, although there was less Profit, yet there was more Contentment: Neverthelesse, it was impossible for me not to reflect upon my self without much grief, for the losse that I made of my Youth, which I should have imployed for the comfort and advantage of those to whom I was obliged to tender all service, and for my own advantage in particular, which was the occasion, that when sometimes I was in company, and did deliver my self amongst them, I immediately became as one that was [Page 3]dumb, and suffering my self to be carried away by the violence of the fit, I seemed not the same Man which I was accustomed to be, but as One indued with another Constitution, and had changed my Nature with my Mirth. I was extremely afflicted with this Metamorphosis, and as much as possibly I could, I constrained my self to the contrary; but because the Cause of my Grief could not so easily be taken away, seeing Objects every day that did increase my Malady, I had need in this particular of some extraordinary Remedy, or of a voluntary Banishment.
Clerantes, who understood my Disease, and the Original of it, did with all his power indeavour to comfort me, and did take me along with him to a fair house which he had in the Country, and there said unto me, What have you done with your frolick humor? I shall take off some of the Estimation which your merit until now hath obliged me to conceive of it, if you do not indeavour your self to be merry. You afflict your self with the disorder of the world, Take no more thought of it, for it cannot be redressed. In despight of all men, let us live contrary to them. Let us not follow any of their sottish Customes; For my self, I will for ever abandon the Court, where I never received the least Content. If here in the Country we will passe away our time in the Delights of Love, we shall find lusty young Beauties, and farre surpassing those of the Court, who are covered over with Painting, proceeding from a thousand Inventions, to make plump their lank and exhausted flesh. I remember I have lain with some of them so lean, that I had rather almost be put upon the Rack. When I was last with Lucy, I perceived that her Beauty proceeded more from Art than Nature. Her body was composed of nothing but Skin, and Bones.
The free Humor of this Lord did please me, and I readily consented to him in whatsoever he desired. He had abandoned his Greatnesse at the Court, without retaining so much as the Memory of it, and stooped so low, that on Sundays he would dance under the Elms with the old Blades of the Parish, Peter and Lucrin. He would play at Bowls with them for a Supper, and took delight to see them drink deep, and to hear them relate the Wonders of their Times. When he was in the most serious humor, he would send for the Antiquity of his Tenants, and would intreat them to give an account unto him of whatsoever they did remember was done in the dayes of their Youth. O what a delight did he receive to hear them discourse of the affairs of State, of which they expressed themselves according to their own opinions, and the opinion of their Grand-fathers, laying alwayes all the blame on those Lords who were most near unto the person of the King. For my self, of my own Nature I did nothing approve the communication of such ignorant and misguided People; neverthelesse to be responsible to him, I did so inforce my self to be merry, that I might safely assure him I did take some pleasure, when it was nothing else but to see him merry, because my principal design was to enjoy the honour of his Company in some pleasant condition of life.
In this manner I did deport my self, until a gallant design did invade me which few other men would undertake; It was told me, that about three miles from thence there lived in a Farm one of the most handsome Women in the World. I resolved to put my self into the habit of a Peasant, and to carry with me Viol, on which I could play with dexterity enough, that by that means I might be admitted the more near unto her company. That which did beget this resolution in me, was, that I understood this delicate Creature did love to laugh very heartily, and to entertain her friends with the most pleasant discourses, I hoped therefore to give her such facetious language, that it should be the greatest of pleasures to hear our Salutations. And it fell out so happily, that on that day in which I was resolved to goe, there was a wedding in the Village; Clerantes having a mind to ramble with me, did furnish himself [Page 4]with a Cymbal to accompany me, because it is an Instrument which is not difficult to play upon, for you must only strike upon the strings within it with a wire on the cadence of every Song.
In the morning we departed out of the House with our accustomed habiliments, causing it to be noised abroad, that we were to travail twelve leagues; we took not any one with us but the Groom only of my Chamber, a close and a cunning Wagg. Being about four miles from Clerantes house, we entred into a thick wood, where we did cloath our selves with raggs; Clerantes did cover his face half over with a napkin, and made his beard black, which was naturally of a flaxen colour, because he would not be known by any: As for my self, I only did put a playster on one of my eyes, and did put an old hat on my head, the brims whereof I could at my pleasure either lift up or pull down, because it was cloven in the middle, as if it were the Umbrier of some Troopers old Head-piece.
In this Equipage we marched to the Village where the Nuptials were to be solemnized. My Groom had set our Horses into a Stable, and attended at the Inn until such time as we should have need of his service; We did steer the direct way to the Father of the young Maid who was to be married, whom we found to be a good honest Country Fellow: I demanded of him, if he had not need of my service, he told me, that he had already entertained a Minstrell, and given him six souse in earnest, and promised him a Crown more for his pains; I replyed, I demand of you but only one half Crown, both for me and my Companion; We can also doe you good service in the Kitchin, in which we are most sufficient to discharge our selves, having been both of us under Cooks in one of the most hospitable Kitchins of France. The Country man finding us to be more usefull and cheaper than any other, following the advice of his Wife, who would not be at more charge than needs she must, did entertain us. The other Fiddler came immediatly afterwards, so there was no little dispute betwixt him and me; he alleged that he had contracted with him two days before, and that he came two miles on purpose to serve at the Wedding. I affirmed that I had notice of it as well as himself, and came eight miles, being hired by a certain man who fifteen days agoe did give me earnest as he passed that way, and injoyned me not to fail to be at the Wedding. My cause was found, by all who were present, to be better than his, wherefore, having kept his earnest, he did go away discomforted.
We did set our selves to work in the Kitchin, and Clerantes who would oftentimes enquire of his people how his meat was dressed, and be present with them in the Kitchin, had made very good sawce, if he had been allowed materials wherewith to do it. We did content our selves to make all things ready after the grossest manner, according to the Counsell of our Supervisers, who ever and anon would come to see us. Every one being returned from Masse, the Table was covered, and they did sit down to dinner. The Citizens Wife did sit down first of all, for it was the Daughter of the Keeper of her Vineyards that was married; I had the opportunity to gaze a long time upon them all, and must confesse, that I have seldom seen more handsome Women. Dinner being ended, the Bridegroom and his Bride did sit down at the upper end of a Table, on which was placed a great Brazen Basin, and at every gift which was brought unto them for an Offering, they stooped down their heads, and made a great reverence in the way of thankfulnesse. Those who gave two pieces of silver were so covetous of glory, that the better to be heard, they did let them fall down into the Basin one after the other; The Citizens Wife did make them a present of two silver Forks, another woman of the Parish did give them an Iron Fork to take Flesh out of the Pot, and at the other end thereof there was a little Ladle; some gave them Pincers, and some Hammers, which at the farthest end were made to open, and a little to divide [Page 5]the head the better to book out nails, In whatsoever was given I did observe some figure of the Fork, which was a bad presage for poor sobelin. After the offring was ended, he stayed with his Wife at the I ables end almost hal [...] an hour, to see if any more pieces of silver would drop into the Basin, after which time they retired themselves, and counted what they had laid forth, and perceiving they were at great losse in their Wedding Dinner they did both fall a weeping so abundantly, that I who was next unto them, was constrained to comfort them. The Father of the Bride did then come unto them, no told them that the Lord of the Town had consented to him, that ad the Company should come thither and dance in his Castle, and that they themselves were to goe formost with the Violl. I made ready my Instrument, and playing the first fancy that came into my mind, I was the Conductor of all the Troop. The sound of the Cimball did not please any of them, Clerantes therefore was constrained to leave off his unprofitable musick; and going directly before me he had the garb and every posture of a Iuggler so directly, that had I not known him, I should have taken him for the greatest Hocus Pocus in the world. Being in the Court of the Castle, I played the Canaries, which almost all the company danced; After that I played Galliards and Currantoes, which the Clowns did dance in such a manner that I received great pleasure by it, which hindred me from entertaining any grief to see my self so prodigiously metamorphosed. On the other side I was infinitely taken with the discourse of some old women, who late next unto me. They said that the parents of the Bride and Bridegroom were niggardly and bas [...], that they had no more than one Violl, and for making them no better cheer, Paramand [...] who was one of them, said, that when she married ber eldest daughter [...]oan, there was left so much provision, that the next day being Thursday, they were glad to send to their Curat to come and help them to eat with them, for fear the meat should be spoiled, if she should have kept it until [...]unday, and yet for all that she gave Almes in the Evening to all the poor in the Parish, and at that Wedding she had Violls and Gitterns, and all manner of wind Instruments. Others of them had the like discourse, and did not much mind the dancing. But that which was most pleasant to me to understand, was the Complement of a young Clown with one of the maid Servants of the Lord of the Castle, he did accost her with such a smile, that it did draw his mouth unto his ears, and in his reverence to her he did shake and wriggle his tayl, and folding up the brims of his hat he did say unto her, And how goes it with you Rabina? you look melancholy on it, I am afraid you are not well. You are pleased to say so, said the Servant. Ha Rabina, have you seen the Bride? said the Villager, And will not you be taken as well as others? There hath been a hard Frost this Winter, Well, God mend all. The Maid Servant made answer, Take heed that no flouting Fellow over-hear us. It is true, said she they are taken, if they doe not fly away. The Bridegroom hath a greater Cackle with him than my Aunts Hens. He shall not have my good word, [...]anan his Bride looks sweetly on it because he loves her so, the girdle she doth wear, half of silver and half of silk, was a powerful chain to attract his heart to her service, for you ought to understand, that since a Servant doth carry such an Ornament on her reins, there is neither Groom nor poor Artisan that will not give her more greedy glances than a man pining for hunger doth on the butchers meat in the Shambles. Whereupon the Villager began to speak, but in so strange a tone, that I know not whether be wept or laughed. Zoookers, my mother hath told me of you, and seeing she would not answer him, be repeated the same words five or six times, and pulled her by the hand to make her understand him, believing that she either slept, or had some other thoughts in her head. I am not deaf. said she, I understand you well enough. It is for your sake (replyed the Villager that I doe wear this Sea-green point in [Page 4] [...] [Page 5] [...] [Page 6]my Hat, for a friend of mine told me, that you love that colour so well, that you have at least three Perticoats of it. The other day going to the Vines I looked a hundred times if I could see you, but missing of you, all the night afterwards I dreamed of you, I am so much your Servant; A hundred times and more by Gis I would have laid Pyebald against the best Mare in my Brother-in-Laws teem, that there is not a Maid of such a smiling Brow in the whole Country as your self, who are the pearl of humidity and generous entertainment. Doe you mock me? said the Servant Maid, or is it your pleasure to say so. Ho, said the Villager, it is not so. Ho, replyed Rabina, it is so. Ho, said he again, my Mother coming from her sheep (Ho my Mother) hath spoken to me of you; If you have a mind to marry you have no more to doe but to speak the word. He did not expresse his intentions more clearly to her, but to shew the greatest infection (as he call [...]d it) which he did bear unto her, he did lead her forth to dance a Galliard, where he did so fling up his Legs, and hold down his Arms, and carried his whole body so ill-favour'dly, that he seemed to be either frantick or possessed with the Devil, I observed many other wild postures of rusticity, which are too long in this place to recite. It may suffice that I saw a new Art of Love practiced, quite contrary to that which gentle Ovid did describe.
All this while Clerantes with a heedfull eye did observe whatsoever was done, and a great many of the Gentry of that Country arriving, he minded the Wedding no more, but did goe into the Hall where the Citizens Wife was gone before him. The Signior of the Castle observing how he had bound up his head, did say unto him. How now honest fellow, who was it that hath broke open the Coffer of your Understanding? It is one who will not cure it, (said Clerantes) counterseiting with his voice as much as possibly he could, I have so wicked a Woman to my Wife said he, that I believe she hath in her Body a little Devil. Oh Gentlemen, my heart is ready to break, so great is the anguish she doth put me to. God is my witnesse how often I have endeavoured to make her virtuous, by beating her back, and thumping her belly, but I could never do any good on her, although I have heard that those of her Sex, are of the disposition of Asses, and Nut-trees, from which no profit can be had, unlesse they are often and soundly beaten. I am a Cooper by my Profession, and do not play on the Cymball but only upon Holydays. The other day being not able to make her desist from abusing me, with the help of my Servant, I did put her into one of the largest Tubs, and afterwards closed up the Tub with the Head-pieces of it, so that she had no air at all, but only at the Bung hole. I took my Pully, and let the Vessel fall down into my Celler, and by and by I would pluck it up again with all the strength I had, and immediatly I would let it fall down again into the Cellar, and in this hot exercise I continued as long as possibly I could, and she within was so tormented, that I thought she had repented her self that she ever had offended me, but clean contrary to what I propounded to my self, she putting forth her mouth as well as she could out of the little window of her lodging, did call me a thousand Rogues, and spoke many other reproachfull words not to be indured. In the end I was constrained to let her alone to passe away her choler by her self. In the Evening a cursed desire did possesse me to take of her my ordinary pleasure, to which I am so accustomed that I cannot live without it so much as one night, unlesse I should suffer so much torture as if I were burning at some fire. Neverthelesse I resolved with my self not to take her out of the Tub, fearing otherwise that she would have committed some outrage upon me, as oftentimes she had done before on a far lesse occasion. Sweet-heart, said I, Kisse me here at the Bunghole, and afterwards we will live in peace. No, No, said she, I had rather have in Hell the friendship of the Devil, than thine. Upon my faith, said I unto her, I will do so no more, [Page 7]that is to say I will beat thee no more, but will alwayes endeavour to please thee, and be always doing the best I can, Therefore before thou comest forth give me six kisses, and that being done I promise that I will relieve thee from thy Prison. That offer overcame her obstinacy, and she accorded to what I did desire, and bringing her mouth as near as possibly she could to the Bunghole, I did put forth my lips as far as ever I could to reach her mouth, but do what I could I could not come at it. In the end I was enforced to take her from the place where she was, so much my desire did transport me. After we had sufficiently sported our selves, she began again to quarrel with me, and to tell me that she knew well enough that I had been playing the knave with a young Woman that was her neighbour, I know not how she came to understand it, for I was so valiant at that time, that I did her as good service as ever in my life, but neither good words nor good deeds would serve her turn, for she was angry beyond all measure. The Sun rising did see our contention, and was witnesse that she threw a charged Pissepot at my head, with the edge whereof she hurt me as you see, and I dare assure you (as far as I can perceive) that I deserved no blame at all.
This Story of Clerantes did make all the Company to laugh outright, but especially the Citizens Wife, who propounded many petulant questions to him. One of the Gentlemen of the Company did command him to sing him a Song. Immediatly he played upon the Cymball, and did sing one of the best Songs he had. Being invited to sing more, and having no more to sing, he told them that they must call me, for I had all the variety of the bravest Songs in the world, The wedding stayed without a Violl or any other Musick to content the Lord of the Castle, to whom with all speed I addressed my self. My voice accorded with my Instrument, & I did sing all the modest Songs that were ever made by others, or which I had composed my self in the height of my debauchment, when I had the Glasse in my hand; I made such faces, and used such strange postures when I was singing them, that all the Buffons of Europe would be glad of my picture (as then I did deport my self) to gain a livelyhood thereby.
In the mean time Clerantes did draw near unto two old men who did not addict their minds to listen to my Musick. They seriously discoursed on a subject which touched his particular, not as he was now in the quality of a Minstrell, but as he was the Lord Clerantes. He dissembled not to hear them, that they might still continue to speak aloud, and would no so much as look towards them, because he would not possesse them with a suspition that he did give ear to their communication, and they conceiving him to be some idle silly fellow did not Judge him to have a capacity to comprehend their reasons, wherefore one of them proceeded in his discourse, Clerantes (said he) hath been some days in this Country, as I am informed, but this morning he is gone away from us, and I am very glad of it, for I had rather hear that he was in Turky than in this place, I always hated him since I knew him. He is extremely vicious, and addicted to Wine and Woman, and doth many things which doe greatly derogate from his quality. I do esteem my Son who is but a Farmer better, who is an honest and a loyal Peasant (as Heaven in his birth hath ordained him) than I like Clerantes who doth not live like a great Lord, although by his Fortune and his birth he is one. He will not displease you long replyed the other, I tell you as a friend, and desire you to keep it secret, there are some people who at this present are of great power in the State, who are determined to make away with him without any more a doe or noise, now he is absent from the Court. They have sent a man hither to put the design in execution, who although he hath missed of him this morning, may peradventure find the means throughly to perform it, if he shall find him on the way as he returneth.
[Page 8]Although he did speak these last words lower than the rest, yet Clerantes did understand them well enough, and to drive away the grief that did invade him, on the knowledge of this so wicked an enterprise to take away his life, he did goe to one of the Servants, and desired him to give him some wine, for he had made himself so dry with singing, that he was but a dead man if he had not something given him to satisfie his thirst. Wherefore they did give him as much as he would drink, & he retiring himself to a Corner, did take out of a Wallet which he had, some of the relicks of the wedding, and I greedily snatched from him many good morsels of it.
Going to eat it at the Window, I saw in the Court one of the most pleasant things to me in the World. Dressing the pottage, and the yellow Rice for Dinner, I had put into the pot a certain laxative composition which I had brought with me. This Drug making at this time its operation, all those who were at the wedding dinner were constrained to goe as fast as they could to discharge themselves of a burthen, which being thin, and weighing not very heavy, was therefore the more difficult to bear. There were some who did go into the stables, and made use of straw to terge their posteriors, others had not leisure to goe so far, and did empty their bellies on the Dunghill, or any other convenient place they could find. In my absence young men and women did dance to tunes only that were sung. The greatest part of the Dancers were gone away in obedience to the nasty Tyrant that commanded them, and the poor Bride who suffered more violent pangs in her belly than any of the rest, because she had eaten more of the Rice, was inforc [...]d to an uncontrolled necessity. She believed that it was unbeseeming her who made the Feast to forsake those who in the dance did hold her by the hand, there did therefore a certain liquor run down from her to the ground, the evil smell whereof did ascend into the Noses of all who danced, and in the dance having often trod upon it, it caused them to look down upon the ground, whereupon a great dispute did arise on that intricate businesse, to understand which of them it was, who at so solemn a meeting, and in the Company of the Bride, had so disgraced themselves. The Men did all withdraw from the Women, alleging that their Breeches were large enough to contain their Excrements for a whole Fortnight, without being constrained to throw it on the ground amongst so many honest persons. But every one feeling the same malady, and being ashamed to leave their ordures behind them in the Signiors Castle, (whom I had called to the Window with all the Company to behold that pleasant adventure) all those who came in with the Wedding returned to their own houses one after another, not without much laughter of those who did behold them to dance other Currantoes than those which I played with my Rebeck. Every on did passe his judgement on it, and almost all of them concluded that the occasion of this so universal a looseness was that they were not any of them accustomed to seed on so much Rice before.
The Citizens wife herself was not exempted from this malady, which did take her on the sudden, as she was mocking those whom she saw so much tormented▪ and fearing to commit the like fault she did go out of the Hall, and not knowing where to discharge her burthen, she travailed from one side of the Base Court to the other. At the last she did meet with a Lackey, of whom (as if she was half besides herself) she demanded where were the Privies, he pointed to them with his Finger, but as she plucked up her cloathes to sit down. a young wench who had as great need as her self, would place her self in the seat before her. They were in contestation who should sit down first, In the mean time the Mother of the Bride, who was a big Country woman did come in, and by her age did claim precedency, so that those two were constrained to let all run from them as they stood.
The Citizens Wife being returned, was constrained not long afterwards by [Page 9]a second necessity as great as the former to return to the same place, where she did her businesse with more ease than at the first, which when I beheld, I said unto the Gentlemen, that I conceived their company was not agreeable to her, because she did nothing else but withdraw herself from them, and did retire into some other place. She perceiving that I made sport with her, did indeavour to requite the curtesie, and to apprehend the subtilty of my Spirit, She laid unto me, Tell me honest Minstrel which of all thy strings is the hardest to tune? Is it not the Treble? I replyed, No indeed forsooth, It is that which is the biggest and most nervous of all, I am sometime two hours before I can wind it up to its full hight, neverthelesse I assure my self if you will but touch it with your finger, it will be in tune immediatly, as it ought to be; when you please you shall see the experience of it, for it will make such a harmony that it will ravish and entrance your Spirit. The laughter which hereupon was raised did more and more invite the Citizens Wife to make use of some invention to be revenged of him, but Clerantes rising from his place, rouling his eyes in his head, & holding a glass of wine in his hand, did begin to counterfeit a Drunkard, and so to the life, that I should have believed he had been drunk in good earnest, did not I know how well he could carry wine, and that he had not drunk half so much as he must have done to have an intoxicated brain. He staggerd at every step, and stammerd with his tongue, and began to rave like a Mad-man. To have a tast of the wine he did put his little Finger in the Glasse, and instead therof he sucked his Thumb; when he drank he spilt half of the wine upon himself and pulled his shirt out of his Codpiece to wipe his mouth, and spreading his thighs he shewed to the Citizens wife all that he had; But she the better to play the Hippocrite, cryed out, and covered her eyes with her hand, and cunningly opened her Fingers, that unperceived she might behold him. Clerantes continuing his extravagancies, and seeing her in the middle Hall, did approach unto her to make water, as if she had been some Statue, or a Wall. Holding his hand in his Breeches, he stooped his head to lean it upon her, and she drew back from him. I was advised at last to have him to bed, and I so prevailed that I conducted him to the House of the Citizens Wife which was next to the Castle, wbere those who were new married were to lye that night. When she her self came home, she caused him to be lodged in a little Chamber hard by the Gate, and demanded of me if I thought that suddenly he would return to his sense again; she did speak to me of this in such a manner, that it gave me to understand she was nothing glad to see him in that excesse of Wine, and that she did like his company when he was frolick and in a good humour. I made answer to her that in an hours respite it would not appear that he had drank at all. She had seen the most desired part of his Body in the Hall, and having entred into the Room where he lay, she had now seen it again, and she ceased not to expresse unto me what a handsome Man he was, and of a good countenance, which she plainly observed, although he had his face half covered with a Napkin. These words did suggest unto me that she did bear him a great deal of good will, which I acquainted Clerantes with, who was glad to understand it: And in truth I was nothing deceived, for she was possessed with such violent temptations, that after all the House were dispatched to their beds, and she had lodged me in a Chamber a great way from him, she came privately without a Candle into the Chamber where Clerantes was, and did lye in the same bed with him, conceiving that most privately she should injoy her pleasure with him, because he himself could not discover without light who it was that was his Bedfellow, and having at that time his understanding oppressed with the vapour of the Wine, he in the morning might possibly believe that all was but a dream that had happened to him.
She had no sooner touched him, but he knew well enough who it was, and [Page 10]without speaking any word did indeavour to satisfie her with those pleasures, after which her heart so panted. At eleven of the Clock at night, one knocked at the Gate, she immediatly did rise, and demanded who it was that would come in. He made answer, it was her Husband, and desired her to open the Door immediatly, because he was very weary, being come all upon the Gallop from his house in the Country. She made answer, Good God, there is a Gentleman but just now gone from hence, who hath been every where to look you out, I satisfied him that you were gone to your other house in the Country, he hath businesse of great importance with you, did you not meet him on the way? No, said her Husband, for I came by the Meadowes and inclosures: Go back I pray you then, said she, and keep the Highway, and you undoubtedly will meet him.
Her Husband being much troubled to conceive what the businesse should be that carried such a consequence in the Forehead of it, did put spur unto his Horse, and rode back unto the Village. His Wife being glad that her invention took such effect, did return to Clerantes, with whom she stayed as long as possibly she could, but the day appearing her husband did arrive, who assured her that he could hear no news of the Gentleman who asked for him, although he enquired of every one on the way, & in the streets of the Village, where to his great trouble, he continued in the quest of him all the best part of the night.
Having taken our leave of the Citizens Wise we departed cheerfull and frolick, and arrived at the Inn where the Groom of my Chamber did attend us. Having perceived us, he immediatly did lead forth our Horses, and followed us at a distance. We called back into our memories all the particular passages of the day before, and Clerantes declared to me what he had understood of the two old men, which made me to conjecture that it was his good Genius who had took upon him that disguise to discover so great a treachery. I very much rejoyced at it, and at his good fortune to enjoy that beauty, for which I would have gone a hundred miles on my bare feet, and transformed my self into any shape, if it had been necessary.
Let those (who will impute this voyage of Clerantes to a madnesse in him) consider; that he could not make love to a Citizens wife in his ordinary habiliments, because thereby he should have left a blemish on his reputation, It were far better for him to do as he did; He made use of a cunning invention in rehersing the counterfeit History of his Wife, for you must know when he said that from the arms of his neighbours wife he returned as lusty as ever, and in a gallant posture to imbrace his own, he made the Citizens Wifes mouth to water, and administred new fuell to her desires; In this, as in all other things he carried himself most discreetly.
Moreover there was nothing that could have conveyed so much pleasure to him, as his being thus disguised; first, because he could not otherwise so perfectly, unlesse with great difficulties, have seen the vulgar errors; and secondly, because he took a provident delight for a short time to change the course of his life, and to observe how he should have been used if he had been a player on the Cymball or the Viol. When great personages are pleased to act a part in some Comedy, they always choose to represent those persons who are of the lowest conditions. They receive great content, at least in imagination, to make tryal of a condition of life so far removed from their own. What will it advantage us so to bind up our selves to the Majesty of great estates, as never to assume the liberty to descend a little to observe the inferiour imployments of the World? Fortune oftentimes doth inforce Prince, whether they will or no, from the royal Pomp which did inviron them, and doth throw them into the extremest poverty, and to have their habitations in Cabans of turf. There is nothing lost to be sometimes in the society of a ragged Companion. [Page 11]Let the vulgar speak what they please, it was a gallantry in Nero, to imploy himself to play on the Cittern, that he might earn his bread, if at any time he should be dispossessed of his Throne. On the other side, it is no ill Lesson for great Signiors to understand how poor men are inforced to live, for it makes them to take compassion on them, and this compassion doth testifie an humanity in them, which doth render them more commendable.
It is true, that amongst these things (which might all of them have been done with a good intention, and without any mixture of impurity) this Lord did let loose the bridle to Intemperance; but there is no man so perfect who hath not his defects. Let us study and practise the best, and abandon the worst. We may call to mind that Clerantes did many things in this disguise, which might prove much to his advantage.
These considerations, and such as these are, did entertain us in the way, and when we came to the Wood, where the day before we did put on our ragged habiliments, we did there put them off, and did attire our selves in our own cloaths, which the Groom of my Chamber did bring unto us. Clerantes being come home, did acquaint a Counsellor (who was a friend of his) that he heard from an old Gentleman of the Country, that there was a man who haunted his Castle, who had entertained a resolution to kill him. The Counsellor immediatly addressed himself to the old Man whom he named, and assured him that of necessity he must tell him whatsoever he knew concerning that affair, and that already he had been heard to speak of it, and therefore could pretend no Ignorance. All that he could draw from him, was, that whatsoever he had spoken was grounded upon common report. He was examined again as strictly as may be, and at the last he did learn of him the place where it was likely this fellow might be found, who had determined to commit this murther. Moreover he described his Complexion, Age, Stature and the Colour of his Cloathes. Some were sent to find him out, and apprehend him, but in vain, for not finding the opportunity to put his bloody design, he was gone away full of Despair.
The Counsellor advised Clerantes to be revenged of the old man, who was so wicked as not to come unto him, to discover the enterprise that was contrived against him; but he would do nothing in it, and doubted that both he and his Companion, who did bear so mortal a hatred to him, had received some injury on his behalf, in which he was nothing deceived; for as he understood by his Secretary, the Receivers under his authority had deceived them, of a certain sum of money that was due unto them, of which they were infinitely sensible, because they were extremly poor; wherefore from his own Coffers he caused the said sum of money to be taken, and did send it to them, desiring them for the time to come to be his friends. This courtesie did intirely gain their good wills, as since they have made apparent by their service and affection to him.
Clerantes thus delivered from that danger, did determine to renew his acquaintance with fair Amye; This was the name of the Citizens wife, whom once more he desired to have in his Armes. Love exercizing on him a violent authority, he was constrained to obey it, he resolved therefore to give a visit to his Sweet-heart, in whatsoever manner it was. He thought it inconvenient to disguise himself as before, neverthelesse we did go forth with a very inconsiderable train, who most of them carrying Hawks on their fists, they did let fly, as we directed, and perceived the Game, and we came to the very house where Clerantes chief delight was lodged. He commanded one of his Servants to alight, and knock at the Garden door, to acquaint them that one of his Hawks was fled into the Garden, which he desired to have. They no sooner heard of Clerantes name, but courteously they did open the door, assuring him that it was more than they knew of any hawk that fled that [Page 12]way; The Faulconer nevertheless never ceased hallowing and luring the Hawk. At the last Clerantes and my self alighted, and entring into the Garden where the Faulconer was, we demanded if they had not taken up a Hawk which we had lost. The Citizens wife seeing the Lord Clerantes, did courteously addresse her self unto him, and intreated him that he would be pleased to rest himself a little in her house, until his Servants had found the Hawk.
To make use of the occasion which so fairly offered it self, Clerantes answered, that he would not refuse her civility, because he was very weary. Our voices differed much from those which we had counterfeited at the Wedding, neither were our Countenances to be known, for when we had disguised our selves to personate two Minstrels, she took us not to be those men whom now she beheld, so much her judgement had deceived her eyes, and indeed, who could be so cunning, as to discern the truth of such a mystery? We being sate, and she likewise, Clerantes said, that the humour of his Faulcon which had strayed away was extremly unpleasing to him, it being the most unconstant, and the most unfaithfull Bird that ever he found; I made answer that if she was fled quite away, it was no great losse, because there were better every day to be found. In this manner we did maintain a long discourse upon Falconry, not without some reflections upon Ladies, which gave the Citizens wife to undersand that we were good fellowes. She returned us but very sparing answers, although we did provoke her to speak as much as we could. Madam, said Clerantes, to give you without dissembling an account of my coming hither, it was rather to see you, than to have my Faulcon again. She made answer, that he must pardon her, if she could not believe that he would take so much pains for to see so unworthy a creature as her self. Do you think then (he replyed) that I do esteem more of my Falcon than of you? you do ex [...]r [...]ly abuse your self, for I have more reason to make much of you than of it; for it is credible you will not be so unkind, as to disappoint your Falconer of the pleasure of that Game which always you keep about you. I interrupted him, and said, Sir, There is a remarkable difference between Falcons and Ladies, which peradventure you do not observe. What is that? said Clerantes: It is, said I, that Faulcons stooping with great violence do seize upon the prey, and Ladies only do attend it; Amye finding her self to be touched to the quick, did, to defend her self, allege, that the reputation of her Sex could not be so highly esteemed as it did deserve, and that which hindred that they could not give such remarkable demonstrations of their worth, was the weaknesse of their Enemies, whose virtues it was no great glory to surmount. And what appearance have you for it Madam, said I, Have you all inchanted Armor, such as Viganda gave to the Knights Errants whom she favoured? We have no Arms at all but such as you can bend and make plyant at your pleasure, and whensoever we assault you, we do not offend you, but are sure to lose our own strength. These, said Amye, are the ordinary excuses of the vanquished, who are always of a belief that the Conquerors doe practise some deceit to obtain the Conquest, By such Arts you think to conceal your Cowardise, but you take unprofitable pains. Alas poor Warriers, what would you do if we should use armes offensive as well as defensive, with the last of which we do only content our selves, to abate the hight and stiffness of your Pride? Peradventure, said Clerantes, that we should then be always Conquerors; for endeavouring to offend us on the one side, you would take no care to defend your selves on the other, so that you would never gain the battell: The affairs then standing in this condition, we our selves may have the Victory, if we will desire it; for the presumption you do nourish that you can tame your mutinous Enemy when you please, doth cry up your power more than any generous courage that you have. At this instant we may behold the proof thereof, in that you are so obstinate, as with your Tongue to [Page 13]hold combat with two Champions at once, who easily can surmount you in the Justice of their Cause, although you add more colour to your eloquence than they. For my self, I love not to fight with words, I had rather strike home with good Arms, and demonstrate my valour by effects. If you please, I will throw down my Glove, according to the antient custom of Chivalry, to give you an assurance that I will come on such a day as you shall appoint, to make proof of my valour against yours: I will make choice of Francion to be Iudge of the Field. Knight errant of Love, said Amye, you shew your self to be but a novice, and unworthy of your profession, because you observe not the true rules of Knighthood, you ought to be chastised by your King who hath dubb'd you knight! Have you not learn'd that there ought not any one to be Judge in the combats you desire to fight, which are to be managed in private. On these words, I interrupted her and said, You are infinitely reasonable. Fight with one another as long as you please, I will not interpose to be your Judge in the Conflict. The hour is propitious to you both to joyn in battail; Farewell for a while, I will go see if your Hawk be yet heard of again. Begin when you shall think good your selves, and the Devil take him that shall part you.
Speaking those words, in a garb of fleering humility, I did reverence to them, and shutting the door after me, I returned to Clerantes Servants, with whom I discoursed of Falconry, and of a covey of Partridges which the Spaniels had newly sprung: In the mean time Clerantes following the good counsell which I had given him, did imploy himself to combat with his fair Warrier, and demanded of her, if she were in the resolution that the prize should immediatly begin to be playd. She who had maintained the former discourse but only in a gallantry, was surprized in amazement to see that she should be assaulted in good earnest; No, no, said she, I will not have the honour to overcome you at this present, you have not had time enough to arm and provide you self. You shall pardon me, answered Clerantes, I would not have spoken of the Combat if I had not found my self provided for it.
On those words he did lead her into the next Chamber, and prepared himself to give her a restimony of his valour, but she told him that if he touched her she would cry out, and would call to her Husband, He made answer, Why, Madam▪ do you not remember but that even now you said, That there ought not any to be judge in our Combat? she replyed, I thought not of the evil which you had then in your heart. Let us talk no more of that, said Clerantes, consider with your self that they that shall come in hither, and find me shut up with you, will believe that by a remarkable cunning, you doe cry out after the businesse is done, only to grow upon their good opinion to have them think well of it, when there is no occosion for it, and by that means you will be the more defamed, and accused of Hypocrisie, and you will receive thereby much shame and sorrow, without tasting any pleasure at all. As for the rest of your allegation, I am confident that your Husband is not within, and so I was informed when I came into your House. Wo is me, said she, you are too subtle for me, I thought to have spoken in mirth only to passe away the time, and you turn it into treason against me. Well, well, said Clerantes, the Ordinances which you lately mentioned are of no value, for I find it most necessary to have a Iudge in whatsoever Combat it be, for if I have one, he shall be an eye witnesse that I will use no treachery in this Combat, nor will shew any foul play in it, No, no, Sweetheart, he so proceeding said, and did put his hand upon her Breasts, It is no treason to assault you before, and to begin here. For all these words she did continue to make resistance, which did inforce him to demonstrate that she did him wrong to refuse that to him, which but a few days before she had vouchsafed to a player on the Cymball; You cannot deny it, said he, it was a good Angel who told [Page 14]me the tydings of it. He also informed me that the reason which most induced you to it, was because you conceived the affair should be carried so extremely secret, you were then pleased to admit him, and without doubt did think it not ill done, because it was so well managed by you, that even he who was the party did not know himself who it was he imbraced. But this cannot be done now, content your self therefore with the assurance which I doe make unto you, that what shall passe betwixt us shall never be discovered unto any.
Amye was amazed to understand that Clerantes knew of her loves, and undoubtedly believed that he had a familiar spirit, and deliberating a little with her self what a handsome Man he was, and of how great a quality, and what benefits for her part she might receive from him, she resolved with her self not to be too rigorous, neverthelesse she said unto him, You doe accuse me of a fault which I never did commit, neither will commit at this time; for that which you demand belongeth to my husband, and I have promised to preserve it for him. You shall receive more from me, said Clerantes, than I sh [...]l [...] take from you, we ought not to be angry when another shall sow our ground with his own seed. But my Husband, said Amye, is conscientious, and will not keep the fruits that shall in that nature be produced. Say you so (sweet Friend) said Clerantes, Send them home to me, they shall be in a good and a safe hand.
After these words he found no more resistance. In this manner they passed away two long hours and as one of our Hawks made a flight into the adjacent meadow, I beheld the Garden door to open, and galloping towards it, I arrived just as they were bidding one another Farewell. O Madam, said I, Tell me now, Is not the Lord Clerantes of approved valour? Yes certainly, said she, The Victory betwixt us will always evenly be ballanced, and accordingly as we regain new strength, sometimes the one, sometimes the other will have the advantage.
In this gentle conclusion we did take our leaves of her, and all along the way we did not cease to admire her spirit, of which Clerantes did give me so many proofs, rehearsing to me all the discourse which she had with him in my absence. I gave thanks unto Love for the good fortune he received.
Some time afterwards Letters were directed to him to return unto the Court, to which (for all his oathes to the contray) he was constraito go, and propounding to my self what was the necessity that did inforce him to it, I did what I could to render the journey agreeable unto him.
By nature he was very ambitious, and the design which he had to lead a private life, did only proceed from his inability to imploy himself in the affairs of States. But having obtained the favour of the King as much as any other, at the last he desired it more particularly, and to have his Countenance altogether, and aspiring to places of great Authority, he did now more loye the Court than before he hated it, so that at the last I was delivered from the trouble, by studying any more, by my praises, to make the Court to appear pleasant to him.
He sollicited my advancement as much as possibly he could, and at the last he procured that I had the countenance of the King, who a long time had known me before. I did assist him my self in my preferment, and ordinarily did hold discourse with the King, in which he observed a certain acutenesse of Spirit that did much delight him. Do you conceive that I became more glorious in my own conceit, and that I more esteemed my self, because that every day I made freely my addresses to the King? I protest unto you No; It was a thing but indifferent to me. I am not of the humour of that honest Frenchman, who boasted that he made his approaches so near unto the King in a certain ceremony, that the chafe of his Scabbard did touch his cloaths; Neither [Page 15]will I resemble my self to another, who with great glory did shew to all the world the spittle which from his Majesties mouth did casually light upon his Cloak as he passed in the street by him: Such a simplicity is not gracefull to me; I should rather commend the rudenesse of the Country man, who, his his Companion desiring him to leave off his labour to come to look upon the King, who was riding through their Town, did make answer, that he would not take so much as one step out of doors to see him, for the King was but a man no more than himself.
I received the favours which his Majesty vouchsafed me, with a spirit that always preserved it self in the same temper, and which never would suffer it self to be transported into any disdainfull motion. In his presence I oftentimes would bitterly inveigh against some Gentlemen, who, I conceived, did deserve it. Neverthelesse their Ignorance was so abhominable, that the greatest part of them did believe it nothing did concern them, or else would fall a laughing as others did believing (such fools they were) that what I did speak was not to have them to retire from their follies, but only to feed them with new pleasure. True it is, there was one amongst them called Baiamond, who had more apprehension, but not more wisdom than the rest. He was a glorious Fool, neither would he turn into sport the jeers of other men, nor abstain from committing those faults for which he was reprehended. All the Satyres that were composed at the Court had no other subject but himself, he was a Theam of scope enough for all the Poets of the Town to exercise their wits on, which caused him to swear that the first that made mention of him in mockerie should be grievously punished if he could but arrive to the knowledge of him.
One day when I was in the L [...]uvre I discoursed of diverse things with some of my friends, and we came to talk at last of the great plumes of Feathers then in fashion; some commended the use of them, others who were more precise did condemn them: For my self I did much extoll them, as diverse other accoutrements which pertain to the ornament of Gentlemen, howsoever I could not approve I said) the humour of some senselesse Courtiers, who glorifie that they have feathers as great as the Mules of the Kings stable, which they would have to serve them as a shade, and when the Sun shines they continually do look down upon their shadowes to observe how gracefully they become them, and with these Feathers they hope to charm the resolutions of the most obdurare Ladies.
I have lately (said I) heard the history of an amorous young Gentleman, who did lay forth as much money on feathers only, as on all the other habiliments he did wear, and yet, for all that, could never mollifie the hard heart of his Mistresse.
As soon as I had spoken those words all the Company entertaining a confidence that I would not recite any stale History, did intreat me with one accord to rehearse it to them, and I did thus begin.
I must then, Gentlemen, begin my Account with a Count of whom I make no account. Immediatly Baiamond, who was behind us, and did always wear a great plum of feathers in his Hat, and who also was a Count himself, did imagin that I had an intent to bring him upon the Stage. He drew therefore more near unto us to understand the subject of my Discourse. He (said I) of whom I am to speak, did fall in love with the Daughter of a Physician of this Town, for he had never the courage to carry his Desires to a more eminent place. He for the most part did frequent the Church, to which she repaired to hear Masse in the Morning and Vespers in the Evening, and oftentimes he would walk by the Door of her Fathers House, to enjoy the opportunity to behold her; At the last, he advised with himself to lodge in a Chamber ready furnished, that was directly over against her house, hoping that the proximity [Page 16]of the place would bring some contentment to him, for the present, and be a happy means for the manifestation of his love for the time to come. One of his Lackeys was commanded to court her Servant, pretending to be amorous of her; He was obedient to the command, and in a short time he gained the favour of the Maid, so that his Master did discover unto him the affection which he did bear to the Daughter of the Physician, and desired his indeavour to assist him. This affair of his did meet with marvellous successe. At last the Maid Servant being very familiar with her young Mistresse, who governed all things in the house after her Mothers decease, did acquaint her with the great love which her Neighbour over the way did bear unto her, for which she was extremely checked, her young Mistresse being highly incensed, because she favoured the suit of such a man, who by the greatness of his birth and fortunes, did make love unto her to violate her honour, any not to espouse her, and was forbidden for the time to come to bring any such Messages unto her. The poor serving Maid was excessively sorry that she could perform nothing for him. who had promised her such extraordinary rewards, Neverthelesse to draw some profit from him, she made him believe that he was passionately beloved by her Mistresse. She needed not to make many protestations to induce him to entertain this belief, for he had more vanity than any other in this age. When he passed through the streets, he would turn him on every side to see if any did observe him, and if any one peradventure did fasten his eye upon him, being amazed at his prodigious pride, he would imagine that he entred into admiration, either at the symmetry and proportion of his Body, or at the richnesse of his habit. If a word were spoken on some other subject as he passed by, he did take it as spoken on himself, and expounded all to his own advantage; If a young Girl had but looked upon him, he stedfastly did believe that she was amorous o [...] him It was told me, that coming one day to a Gentlewomans house, and seeing there one of his friends who was a servant to her, he immediatly departed; the other meeting him accidently some few days afterwards, demanded of him, what offence he had done him, that he would not stay in the place where he was; The Count made answer to him, You are a bad Interpreter of my actions, I abruptly departed from your Mistresses house to doe you a pleasure, having understood by the praises she did give to the curle [...] of my Perivigge, that she did bear a greater affection to me than to your self, I was afraid that my presence would make her refrain from bestowing those favours on you which you may desire, and do deserve. Those who did acquaint me with the story of this vain person, whom they knew very well, did give me an account of a thousand such follies he committed. The Daughter of the Physician, without making any experimental practice of him, did in a short time perceive of what humour he was. The Windows of his Chamber were always open when he did put on any new suit of Apparel, or did any other thing in which his magnificence did appear, and at dinner always, or at supper, the dishes for a little time were placed in the window, that the good cheer he made might be beheld.
This was the cause that she did rather hate than love him, and related all his vanities to some of her choicest friends, who one Evening came into her chamber to take some pleasure at the apish tricks of her Servant, who when ever as she came to her window, would be sure always to be putting out his head at his own It so came to passe that there was a Gentleman with him who played very well upon the Lute, he intreated him to give him a Lesson or two, and that he might not be seen, he did conceal him in a convenient place hard by the window; In the mean time he did take another Lute into his own hand, and standing at the window he so fingerd it, that it might be believed by those who stood in the window over against him, that it was [Page 17]he who played, hoping that his Mistresse would be the more inamoured on him, having made it apparent to her that he was indued with so Gentleman-like a quality; but as it fell out most unfortunately for him, one of the Companions of the Daughter of the Physician, who could play well on that Instrument, perceiving by his stops, and his unskilfull touching of the strings, that it was not he who made the harmony, did goe into a Room which was a pair of stairs higher, where they plainly discovered who it was that played. To make sport therefore with the Count, sometimes they told him that his Lute was out of Tune, sometimes that he did touch the strings too rudely, sometimes that he had broke his Trebble; Neverthelesse for all that the Musick continued a long time. The Physicians Daughter continuing at the window, he remembring that he had read in the Romances, that some Lovers did even swoun away in beholding their Mistresses, he, to shew the like excesse of passion, standing at the Window, did counterfeit himself to be in a great feeblenesse, and closing his eyes, and opening his mouth, as if he laboured for a little breath, he fell gently down into the Chair behind him, and his window immediatly was commanded to be shut▪ The young Gentlewoman suspecting what it was, did send one of her Servants to his lodging to understand what was the malady that with so sudden a violence had surprized him, seeing that but a little before he seemed to be very well, when he played on his Lute at the Window. The Messenger being brought into his Chamber; Friend, said he with a feeble voice, Acquaint your Mistresse, that what sicknesse I have, she only is the occasion of it. This answer being returned, it did administer to her a new and a greater subject of laughter. Her Maid Servant being still willing to perform some service for our Count, did assure him by his Lackey, that within few days she would procure him the means to discourse wi h her Mistresse, and to proceed further peradventure, if the Doctor her Father, who did keep her so short, could be imployed for a while in the Country. It being represented to the Count, that peradventure this Doctor would continue always in the City, if some invention were not practised to send him in the Country, he resolved with himself to take some Beggar who was sick out of Paris, and having sent him to his Signiory in the Country, to intreat the Doctor his Neighbour to take the pains to see him, and administer Physick to him, making him believe that he was one of the Grooms of his Chamber whom he much tendred.
Being determined to put this in practice, he [...]ound Beggars enough, who were willing to be sent any where to be cured of their maladies, and amongst them all, he made choice of one who s [...]emed the fittest for his turn. The affair did successively advance it self according to the design, for the hope of gain, and the good occasion to take the Country air, did tempt the Physician for some days to forsake his own house. Now was the time for the Maid servant to act her part. She said unto her Mistresse, you are too blame forsooth to make no more esteem of this brave Monsieur, who every day doth by his look too much accuse you of your cruelty; who knows but that it is his resolution to marry you, although he is more rich than your self? Permit him to have accesse unto you in the absence of your Father, by which means you may examine all his intentions, and find whatsoever he hath in his belly, H [...] Mistresse desiring to make some mirth with the Count, did not reprove her Maid at that time, but assured her she was not much unwilling to enjoy the conversation of her Lover. She immediatly did acquaint the Lackey with it, and in the twinkling of an eye, behold my young Count was arrived at the House of the young Gentlewoman, who had those in her company who not long before had seen him in his own window to swoun away. After some words of courtesie, they came by course to others which did not so much please him, because that ever and anon they gave him some touch or other, [Page 18]to which he could return no answer. You are to observe, that when he was to addresse himself to any company, he did learn some complements by heart, which he did take out of the Academy of Love, and these complements he would repeat over and over, although the discourse was not on that subject, which did render him troublesome and tedious unto all that heard him; I leave to you to judge, if at this present he had not turned over all the Books of Love, to collect from thence some Flowers of Oratory, and if that by his language it might not easily be understood that he had read Nerveza, and yet for all this he would oftentimes fall short, or be extremely out, especially if he was put upon a subject on which he had not read that Morning. As for his passionate Love he had not the opportunity to speak much unto his Mistresse thereupon, and he received nothing but cold and unsatisfying answers from her; insomuch that he began to repent that he had abused her Father in a needlesse journey so far out of the City. Not long afterwards the Doctor being returned, did carry his Daughter to a little house which he had bought, about a mile from Paris, and his businesse not permitting him to stay long there, he almost every day did come back into the City. His Daughters servant having a greater desire than ever to assist the Count, demanded of her Mistresse, if she could not be well contented, being all alone to, give a little entertainment to her Servant. She made answer, yes, thinking she had spoken of a young Gentleman one of her own degree, who made Love unto her, but her Maid Servant did not move according to that Bias, but advertised the Count that her Mistresse, whose love had overcome him, did passionately desire his presence. On that Evening he did not fail to retire unto the Village, and the Maid Servant causing him to enter at the Garden door, did bring him to the Granary, where she intreated him to hide himself, for fear of being seen, under some old and ragged Coverlets, promising him as soon as it was night, that she would come and conduct him to her Mistresse; afterwards she repaired to her, and smiling said, The Gentleman is come, I have caused him to conceal himself above under the Coverlets which are there. Her Mistresse suspecting of whom she spake, determined with her self to take vengeance on him for his boldnesse to hide himself in her house, as if he had a design to ravish her of her honour; and because her servant should not hinder her determination, she only nodded with her head to her, and sent her in an errand to the further end of the Town; she was no sooner departed, but she called the Keeper of her Vineyard, and his Son, and causing each of them to take a good staff in their hands, she did bring them both to the Granary. The Count the better to take air, did keep his head without the Coverlets, but hearing the noise which coming up the stairs they made, he did hide himself under them again.
Being entred into the Granary, the Daugher of the Physician did command them to beat the Coverlets as hard as they could to make the Dust fly out. The Keeper of the Vineyard told her that her best course was to take take them down into the Court, and to have them beaten and shaken there, but she made a round answer, and told them plainly, she would not have them touched but only with their Cudgets. Having spoke these words she returned to her Chamber, in the mean time the two Peasants began to lay about them, and to beat the Coverlets with all the force they had, which were not thick enough to defend the Count from feeling the Blowes, which did fall like hail upon him.
This exercise being nothing agreeable to his ease, he resolved to put an end unto it, and suddenly arising up, he laid the Son of the Vine-keeper on the ground with one blow of his fist, and running down the stairs, he took his course more swift than a pursued Stag, directly to his Lackey. He knew not well afterward, whom to be angry with, either the Mistresse or the Servant, [Page 19]and perceiving himself affronted in the highest nature, he turned all his love into disdain, and took his lodging that night in a place far from his ungratefull Mistresse, and ever since he hath avoided that street, as the way unto the Gibbet. Following the King the other day, who passed by that place, It was told me, that he took his leave of a great Peer of the Realm, who of his own accord did offer to accompany him to the Rendezvouz of the Court, which was interpreted to be a great incivility, because the true reason of it was not fully understood.
But this was not his Masterpiece, for you are to take notice that he had a rellish as well of the exercises of Mars, as of Venus. He had not been long in the University, but he was possessed almost with an obstinate desire to make experience of his valour. He observed that no Gentleman was respected unlesse he had fought a Duel or two, therefore when he was high in wine he had a great desire to quarrel, and to raise his discontent to such a height of insolence, that it might seem worthy of a challenge. But he was no sooner fresh and in good sense, but he considered with himself that he might as well be overcome, and mortally wounded, as be a Conqueror. He had no mind to that sport. He would only be beaten as Belleroze was in the Comedy; He would have the thing done, which was yet to be done, and if possibly it could be effected, he indeavoured that some Man of Credit, troubled by a false vision, should publish to the world that he had seen him in many dangerous incounters, although he never was really in any.
At that time there was at the Court a Baron of a phantastical humour, who being one of the Counts acquaintance, did comply with him in all things. Having a long time discoursed of Duels, and of the valour of the Age, they concluded on a project for Honour, which shall be memorable through all posterity. Since all the Worl [...] did beat on another, they had a desire to beat themselves, without exposing themselves to that danger as so many other young Fools are accustomed to doe, They were expressely resolved to make a tall quarrel in some eminent company, and immediatly afterwards having severd themselves, they plotted to be found in some place out of Town with their swords drawn (swords that had no more metal in them than their Masters) with which they should make a flourish, and traverse their ground, and keep a clashing, until some should clap in to part them, it matter'd not, whether they were Travailers, or some of their own Grooms, who must know nothing of their counterfeit valor, because they might speak afterwards of their Combat to the greater advantage. The Count, flattering himself with a belief that this was the only way to procure him Reputation, did say, And what evil is there in it? Shall we sin against the laws of Virtue? Is it rashly done to enter into those rages in which we observe many of the Nobility to be dayly ingaged? Why should not we make a gallant venture of our lives as well as they? And because in these times Men are only esteemed by the number of the Duels they have fought, we must, although dissemblingly, practise the same Arts, because there is not other way to gain us reputation. Let us put the Case, that sometimes a kingdom may be given to a Man for committing some evil act, he who hath not committed the act, but hath dissembled he hath done it, to gain the Crown, will still find comfort in himself, how cruelly soever other men judge of him. Let us accomodate our selves to the Age, and make an advantage of our misfortunes, if we cannot remove them. The other approving his reasons and resolutions, they concluded upon some phantastical subject to quarrel in the Tilyeard in the presence of divers Gentlemen. The Count affirmed, it imported not if the occasion of the quarrel was never so small, for they who fight Duels on the least occasions, are the only men, who are now esteemed, because they make such little reckoning of [Page 20]their lives, which on all occasions they doe hazard. In this resolution, the Baron and the Count taking horse, they parted from their Company by several ways, and passing over Newbridge towards the Evening they came to Cherks Field, where alighting from their horses, they took their swords in hand. They made choice of a place where they might be seen of all, so that they no sooner made a clashing with their swords, but the Citizens and the Souldiers did make hast to part them. One who stood near unto them did swear unto me, that the Count even then said unto the Baron, Be not so violent in your motion: Make but gentle thrusts, and such as easily I may put by. Moreover it was observed, that they did fight in the same posture as if they were dancing the Pyrrhique dance, observing a tune and method in clashing their swords one against the other. This neverthelesse was not taken notice of, and they were intreated to be reconciled. To this counsel they were very obedient, and they did put their Swords into their scabbards again, contenting themselves to allege, that it stood neither with reason nor honour to make their passadoes before so many people.
Ascer this, their friends arrived, having followed them upon an imagination that they were gone to fight with one another. They came back together into the City, where they were made good friends, and their desperate Duell was every where published, to the advantage as well of the one as of the other. Tell me, was not this an Heroical resolution? and if in their in Infancy they had taken any fall by which they were hurt, could they not make the people believe that they were scars which they had received in some former Duell? Me thinks when they fought they might have clapped to their sides a hoggs bladder full of blood, by which they might have counterfeited themselves to be wounded. Neverthelesse, for all this Artifice, their glory hath been since renowned over all the Court, as hath been the glory of many others, who are no more valiant than themselves. I had not known their deceipt, were it not for one of their Grooms, who did conceal himself in the Chamber of the Count when they made the plot, and since hath published it. The Count did find himself so highly and generally esteemed for having hazarded his life in this single fight, that he hath been ever since dazled with the overcoming splendor of his own glory. The other day he would have challenged one of the Kings Receivers, because he saw him too often in the house of a Gentlewoman whom he loved, but he was confident before hand that he would never answer him, although according to the colours he did wear he was habited like a man of the sword. He did write a challenge to him, the form whereof he did take out of Amadis, and sent it by the Groom of his chamber. The Receiver, having read it, did return this Answer, Tell your Master, that I am not at this present in a disposition to fight. I am a Man of peace, and will satisfie him in whatsoever shall be requisite: Let him imagin that he sees me in the field with my sword in my hand, and fighting against him; Let him imagin that he hath laid me on the ground; Let him publish it throughout the City, I will acknowledge it. For the present, I doe confesse my self overcome, and without any fighting I demand of him that he would grant me my life. It is my best course, I do find, so to do, and to prevent the Evil rather than attend it. Would it be discretion think you to implore the mercy of my Enemy after he hath given me my deadly wound? Whether the Receiver did speak this in Earnest or in Jest is not much material; but howsoever it was, the Count was effectually contented, and did boast to every one whom he did meet, how gallantly he had overcome this Man, who did every day so out-brave him, insomuch that for his imaginary conquest, he believed he deserved almost as magnificent triumphs as the Romans heretofore for their greatest Archivement.
This was the Story I did account unto them, which was no sooner ended, [Page 21]but all those who heard it, did intreat me to give them the name of the Count, which was more than I could doe, for I swear unto you, that those who did rehearse it to me did conceal his Name.
Count Baiamond having heard some part of my discourse, looking with a discontented Eye upon me (for which I could not imagin the cause) did retire himself from our company. One of our Number having observed it, & knowing withall the vanity of his humour, did laughing at him declare, that he believed the subject of my discourse did reflect upon him. For my self, I had at the least the same belief, although I did not divulge it. And surely we did not deceive our selves; for he was a great part of that which I had spoken, as afterwards he made it appear by the vengeance he would take of me, believing that I had done him an unpardonable wrong, by rehearsing a Story which belonged to himself.
One Evening, returning late from a Ladies house with whom I long discoursed, I was incountred by the way with the Groom of his Chamber, whom at that time I did not know, who told me that at the corner of the next Street there was a Gentleman, one of my friends, who desired to speak with me! Behold how well a treacherous heart doth know how to make use of his own time. I was on Foot, and had none to follow me but my little Biscayn who was unarmed, because I came from a place, to which, the better to conceal my self from publick observation, I would not goe with any great Equipage.
I had no mistrust of him, and talking of many things I did goe along with him, receiving by the way many testimonies of a good disposition: Crossing the way where was a Lanthern with a Candle in it, according to the custom of the City, he did cast his eyes upon my Sword, and said unto me, Sir, you have there, I see, an excellent hilt, Is the Blade answerable to it? let me see I pray you. He had no sooner spoke the word but I did put the sword into his Hand: He immediatly unsheathed it to see if it were well poised, And as he was giving me his Judgement of it, we came into a close lane, where, as dark as it was, I discovered some Men who did hide themselves in the porches of some of the buildings, to whom he said, Sirs, see where he is; Be of good courage my Companions. Immediatly they did all draw their swords to assault me, and I having not then my own to assist me, I took a Pistol out of my Pocket, which being discharged at random, I had not the leisure to charge it again, therefore I did commend unto my feet the charge of my safety. I did run with so much speed, that it was impossible for them to overtake me, and I protected my self in the shop of a pastry Cook which I found open. As for my Lackey, he sled directly to the house of Clerantes, who caused all his Gentlemen, the Grooms of his Chamber, and his Lackeys, to come forth to my assistance, but they could neither find me nor those who assaulted me. Fearing to be discovered by my Enemies, I took upon me to be one of them, and did passe along the streets crying, where is he? It was my fortune to passe by a house, which a long time I had known to be a Bawdy house, and being called unto out of the window, six or seven men came forth into the streets, and constrained me to enter in to play at Dice with them, I staked a teston to every one of them, and in the way of curtesie emptyed all my Fobb upon the Table, and although I had not won much of them, they did swear unto me, that I must sing them a Song for their Silver; I did sing one of the best that I had, which they never heard before. After that, one of them demanded of me, If I would play again that they might win back their money? I made answer, With all my heart. As we were throwing the Dice, I heard a young Fellow say to one of the Maid servants, We have done nothing this Evening on the Enterprise which we were to perform for Count Baiamond, against one whom we knew not, he most unfortunatly is escaped out of our [Page 22]hands, being brought unto us by that gallant young Blade, who did goe along out of this house with us.
By those words I understood that I was amongst my Assassinates, who were such Villains, that for a little money they would kill a man in cold blood. Howsoever I was glad to understand that it was he who would have caused me to be killed by a treachery so disagreable to a Man who carried the title of Nobility. Having lost all my silver, because I did not mind my play in listning to what was spoken, I had free leave to depart the House, and took my way towards Clerantes house, whom I hoped to have made merry, in appearing before him in that Equipage in which I then was, and in accounting to him the dangers from which I was miraculously delivered. I knocked as loud as I could at the Gate which was shut against me, because that those who were sent forth to assist me were all retired. A Switzer who was half asleep and half drunk, did come unto the Gate, and demanded, who was there? I made no answer to him, but only by the repeated knocks of the Hammer; He said, that his Lady had forbid that any noise should be made, being indisposed in her health, and moreover thus proceeded in his discourse, Fool, if you will not hold your hand, I shall give you that which shall stick by you. In the name of God, what is it you would have? My Lady cannot sleep, and doe you come to make Musick to her. Are you a Chanter? If you are a Chanter shew me your Tablature?
Having propounded these goodly questions, he opened the Gate, and I said unto him, Let me come, in I am Francion, but he not knowing me, and thinking that I asked for Francion, told me, Francion hath nothing to do with you, nor with any that belongs unto you, He is not within. Speaking those words he immediatly did shut the gate upon me, and departed without giving any ear to what I said, so that being unwilling to make any more noise, because the Lady was not well, I did put out my Candle, and did resolve to walk again in the streets, considering with my self into what house I might best retire, for there were many men yet up, before whom I would not willingly appear, knowing well enough they would conceive that I had disguised my self for some dissolute ends, and thereupon they would raise upon me a thousand scandals, which they would publish at the Court.
I was profoundly possessed with this thought, when I was stayd by the watch, who demanded of me whether I was going, and who I was? you may see who I am, said I, by my empty Fobb, I am going home having lost all my money at play. We were then very near to one of the Lanterns of the street, which caused them to observe ruy countenance, in which they discern'd I know not what that I did not look like such a Gamester. They therefore did suspect me to be some guilty person, and the rather because I had no Candle lighted, they therefore examined my Pockets, where they found a Pistol, which confirmed them in their had opinion of me. You are a knave said they, and have thus disguised your self to commit some murder; we are commanded to have a strict eye on such people who take the same course as you doe; you shall goe along with us to prison. Having spoke those words they all took hold of me, and caused me to go along with them to the great Castle. I durst not tell them that I was Francion, although I knew well enough that they would let me goe as soon as I had but told them my name. I chose rather at this present to come out of their hands by some other way. I had hid my Purse betwixt my shirt and my skin, which was the cause they could not find it, although it was the first thing which they did search for, I desired them to unhand me that I might take it out, and I did give them all that was in it. They did thank me for my liberallity, and without any more enquiring after my affairs, they did all consent that I should goe where I pleased.
[Page 23]I conceived with my self it was not amisse to return to the Cooks house, where having undisguised my self, and believing that my enemies who watched for me were all retired, I did goe again to Clerantes house, where I no sooner knocked at the Gate, but by good fortune the Switzer was awake, and rapping out many oathes he opened the Gate for me, and the fumes of the wine he drank being dissipated, he knew me better than he did before, He did let me in, and as I demanded of him what a clock it was, because he seemed so unwilling to open the Gate, he told me it was too morrow, which made me heartily to laugh, for he should have said it was a little past midnight: I did goe directly to my lodging, where I found that my servants, who understood of my bad fortune could not sleep, such an affection they did bear unto me, and were very diligent to have me to bed, where I needed not to be rocked to cause me to sleep.
When day appeared I addressed my self to Clerantes, and declared to him the adventures which on the night before had befallen me. And this procured his hatred to Count Baiamond, insomuch that he asked of me if he should acquaint the King with it, to demand justice of him. I much thanked him for his good will, which I beseeched him not to imploy on that subject, being unwilling that his Majesty should trouble himself with our quarrels. Neverthelesse I resolved with my self to stand on my Guard, and to goe abroad no more but with a good train, since I was assaulted at once, by Baiamond with so many people.
I was sorry that I had so deeply ingaged my self in this quarrel by assuming too great a liberty of speech, for there is no man so weak or impotent, who cannot be hurtfull enough, if he be armed with wicked and treacherous resolutions; and I now at last perceived that to live at rest, we must not indeavour to disoblige any whomsoever, but to carry our selves towards all with a gentle and a complying mind, especially at the Court, where there are such mutinous Spirits, that they cannot endure that the Truth should be represented to them; Neverthelesse I had a desire to satisfie my honour concerning that affair; and having accidently met with Count Baiamond, I said unto him; Count, Have you forgot the Vertues which such a Monsieur as you, who make profession of Nobility ought to practise? How comes it about, that on the other night you would assault your Enemy by High-way Rogues? Do not you know well enough who I am, and that I ought not to be dealt withall in such a Nature? If I were the most infamous man in the world, you ought not for your own honour to have done it. If we have any quarrel, we may decide it by our selves without the assistance of any Seconds. Baiamond being touched to the quick, because I reproached him for what he had done, and withall being desirous to witnesse to me that he was indued with a generous spirit, did make answer to me, that when I pleased a thorough account should be given for the wrong I had done him at that present, and for my accusing him for what was passed, I replyed to him that it should be to morrow in some private place out of the City, which I would acquaint him with. It troubled me I must confesse to combate with such a treacherous man, who had given such marks of so base and so cowardly a spirit, and I perceived that I should gain no great honour to overcome him. Neverthelesse, after dinner, I did ride forth at Saint Anthonies Gate, having a great desire to be dispatched of this businesse. At the last he arrived with a Gentleman who was as much my friend as his own, and who would not imploy himself to reconcile us, because he was of a martial resolution, and was glad to see us in the present resolution to fight with one another, hoping that he suddenly should discover which of us two had the braver spirit. Baiamond took him along with him, believing that I had one to second me, but perceiving that I was alone, he desired him that he would be pleased only to be a Spectactor of the Combat. [Page 24]We were on our way to Charenton, where, as we were looking out for some place of retirement, wherein to execute our design, Lerontes passed by in his Caroach. He was all alone, as was the custome of that Lord, who was pleased in private to recreate and entertain himself in private, being removed from all the noise and distempers of the Court.
Civility did oblige us to salute him, and to speak unto him, who observing that we were both armed with Rapiers, did suspect the affair, and to hinder us from enterprizing any thing, he desired us to make a little stay, without speaking any more words. He then represented to us that the day being sultry hot, it were better for us to sit in the shade in his Caroach, than to be on horseback. We fearing that he would take offence, if we should be so uncivil as to deny him our Company (and the rather, because we could find no excuse to travel any further) did accept of his Love, and our Lackeys held our horses. He casting his eye on my Horse he did like him exceedingly well, and said, I will try if I can practise on Horseback my old Rudiments, for all the heat of the Sun. Gentlemen, Doe not stir, I pray you.
Speaking those words, he planted himself in my saddle, and performed all the feats that belonged to a good Horseman. In the mean time the Caroach was hurrying on towards Paris, and Baiamond affecting an undanted generosity, would often say unto me, Was it possible that this should fall out so? For my self I burned with impatience, and would have fought presently, if it had been possible for us to fight in the Caroach. Lerontes, seeing that we were near unto Conflans, had a desire to walk thither on foot: We alighted from the Caroach, and did goe along with him to the fair Gardens, where I entertained him all the while with such discourse, as did not testifie the least trouble of Spirit. When he beheld that it grew towards the Evening, he demanded of us, if we would return to Paris with him? and desired us openly to acknowledge to him what was the design we had. I replyed, our design was amorous, we were going this Evening to visit a Lady in those parts. I am sorry then, said he, that I have hindered your journey. And on those words we took our leaves of him. He was no sooner gone, but Baiamond demanded if I would fight presently? but his friend made answer that now it was unseasonable, because that night approached; at those words he seemed more eager, and alleged that we had time enough, to which I readily did agree. Neverthelesse we did nothing, at all, but resolved to defer the incounter until the next day, and for the present, we did return unto the City. Baiamond was then in his extravancies, and would take boat, alleging it was more cool and pleasant to return by Water than by Land. We entred into the same Boat with him, having commanded our Lackeys to lead our horses unto Paris, When we were half the way, he began to rise up, and to stand upright in the Boat, and cryed out, O what a grief do I feel within me to attend so long for satisfaction for the injuries you have done me! I will delay my revenge no longer; let us fight in this Boat, here is room enough. He of us two who shall be killed shall have his Body thrown into the River that the affair may be concealed. There can no better course be found to avoid the proceedings of justice. Speaking those words, he drew his Sword, believing that I would have done the like, but Montespin (for so he was called who did accompany us) taking hold of him by the Arm, did say unto him, What do you make account to do my friend? were there ever seen such proceedings? If it should be known to any what a motion you have made, they would condemn you for the extremest folly in the world. Have patience a little, we are not now in a place to fight Duels. These words made him quiet, and yet for all that he ceased no to testifie the great desire he had to begin the Duell, but upon my faith I plainly did perceive that he had not so great a desire as he pretended; He was just of the homour of the Duellists of this age, who have altogether [Page 25]an extravagant Fury in their discourse, and no resolution at all in their Souls. I assure my self, that amongst a hundred who within these two years have been slain in duels, there were hardly four, who according to the Rules of true Generosity have been carryed out of the Field. I can number unto you a great many of them who have danced, sung, and shewed a thousand vanities as they were going to the Duel, which was only to divert themselves that they might not think of the danger that w [...]s so near them. Baiamond was of the same disposition, and when we came to Paris, finding our Horses near the unto Arsenac, he was importunate that we should all go to supper to Montespins house; he committed there a thousand follies, he drank unto me, and did sing a Song, but certainly he in that did resemble little Children, who in the night time passing through a dark place, do sing but only to charm their fear. At the last to witnesse his valour all over, and to shew that in one day he would perform more than all the Gallants of the Court did ever imagin could be done, he returned to his former extravagancies, and taking his Sword, he said unto me, If you have any courage at all shew it now, for now is the time to decide our quarrel. Let us goe down into the Court of this house, it is spacious enough for our Duel. I made answer, I will doe as you will have me, for I would have you know, that I refuse not at any time to enter into the Combat with you, be it night, or be it day, it will be no more advantagious for the one than for the other. Give order therefore that the Torches may be lighted.
This being understood, Montospin came unto us, and said, God forbid he should permit us to fight at such an unseasonable hour, for the valiant always ought to have the Sun to be the witnesse of their glorious Acts, and none but Thieves and guilty men doe in the night time use their Swords; and besides that, the Torches could not give light enough to serve us in our enterprise. Baiamond made answer, that one Evening he was in the Company of two Gentlemen, who had agreed to play a game at Tennis, and that they had Torches lighted about the Tennis Court that they might see to play, if these were so impatient to play a game at Tennis, how much more ought we to be who were to fight a Duel? Montespin did represent unto him, that although we were in his own house, we ought either of us to fear a treachery, and that the Lackeys who held the lights might put them out, or carry them all on one side to give light only to that party whom they would favour, and moreover when we thought least of them, they might assault and wound us in our backs. These reasons did suddenly cool the fiery spirit of Baiamond, for it was all but counterfeit, and if he knew that Montespin would have given way that we should have fought by Torch-light, he would never have made mention of it. He made these Rodomantadoes out of a vain custom he had used ever since he had been a learner in the Fencing School, and when he did expresse himself most highest, his heart did always at that time beat most. In effect, he did speak only of the Duel, because he was constrained to it, and did indeavour to amuze me by his connterfeit resolution.
At the fast Montespin did cause us to lie in two beds which he had prepared for us, and in the morning he did indeavour himself to make us friends, alleging that it would redound to our dishonour, if we should kill one another for nothing. I had no desire that our difference should be so taken up, so that I did leave Montespin, and said unto Baiamond, Let us goe then to look out him whom you wor of, to put an end unto our controversie. He followed me, not knowing what I would say, and I then propounded to him to return unto the place where yesterday we were, and to fight our Duel there.
I charged my Enemy as violently as possibly I could, and gave him so many blowes that he was hardly able to sustain them. As I was striking one blow with all the force I had, his horse curvetting received it upon his eyes, which [Page 26]were immediatly covered with blood, and did put him in such a rage that he would be governed no more by the Bridle or the Spur. His Master had enough to do to save himself with all the art and industry he had, neverthelesse he carried him into a place full of dirt, where I followed him so close that I might have killed him if I would, but I had no desire to wound him in his back. I cryed out unto him to return. At the last he got so much power over his Horse, that approaching to me he did give me a wound in my left Arm. Immediatly after he had hurt me, his Horse did shake himself with such a sudden violence, that he did throw him into a Ditch full of dirt, where to be revenged of my wound I might have given him a hundred mortal ones if I had a desire thereunto. I was contented to put the point of my sword to his throat, and to assure him, if he would not confesse that he owed his life unto me, I would take it from him. He who could not rise from the place where he was, was constrained to submit unto me in all things, and afterwards I did the best I could to assist him. I told him, if he had got such an advantage over me, he would hardly have used me with that humanity, and because, I said, you shall not impute your misfortune to the disadvantage that I was on Horseback, and you on foot, and that our quarrel may at this present be decided, Let us begin (if you please) the Combat again, because I observe that nothing but you cloathes have received any prejudice by your fall. As I spoke those words, Montespin, who followed us close enough, did presse in upon us, and said, No No, you have given both of you sufficient proofs of your valour, you must not proceed so far as to have your controversie determined by Death. It is sufficient (Francion) what you have demonstrated, and I am the Witnesse of it, that it was in your power to have killed Baiamond.
Although the Count had confessed this himself, necessity forcing him thereunto, yet he was much perplexed to behold that Montespin was present, who was as a judge of the fight, and were it not for the incommodity he rereceived, that his cloaths were so full of Mudd that he was hardly able to stir in them, I do believe he would have begun the fight again.
His Friend did lead him to a Village hard by, where he caused him to disvest himself, and for my self I returned to Paris to take care of my wound. I declared what had befallen me to Clerantes, who did publish it to the disadvantage of Baiamond, and withall insisted much on the Justice of my Cause, seeing the Count would have assaulted me by the greatest treachery in the world, for a subject of no moment: It was brought also to the ears of the King, who very much reproved Batamond; And there was not so much as Collinet our Fool who did not highly exclaim against him for the Injury he would have done me.
On the other side, I was by every one extolled (I do speak it without presumption) and my courtesie was much commended which I exercised toward my Enemy, in that I would not kill him when it was in my power to doe it, and when the many indignities I received from him did provoke me to it. It undoubtedly did manifest that I had a great command over my Soul, that I would not suffer it to be misgoverned by the importunity and impetuousnesse of my Choler. By this occasion I procured to my self the favour of Protogenes, who was one of the bravest Princes in Europe. There was nothing in me which he esteemed not. He much approved my discourse, and the reasons I did give for whatsoever I did speak, and gave me liberty to expresse my self freely before him, whether the subject were good or evil, knowing well enough, that I would not reproach any one but those only who did well deserve it. One time I published a Satyr which I had made against a certain Lord, of whose degree I made no mention, nor of his name. There was at the same time another Lord in the Court, who believed the Satyr was made on himself, and complained of it to Protogenes, who with smiles told me [Page 27]what he had heard to be reported. I made answer to him, My Lord, It is easie to conclude, that he who made this complaint unto you is extremly vicious, for were he not, he would never imagin that these lashing verses did strike at him. When I made the Satyre I knew not if there were such a man in the world or not, and yet because he hath all the Vices of other men, I have not whipped that Vice which is not in his Soul. Behold the Subject of his affliction, he should have been more carefull of his honour, and not of himself made the world to understand what is the life which he doth lead at the Court. But grant that I had composed the Satyre on himself, if he were a wise man, he would not make the least appearance to be moved at all. I remember that another Lord of the Court not long since did cause a poor Poet to be beaten for having defamed him in his verses; But what think you was the Event of it? It reflected worse on my Lord than it did before; for although the poor Rimer received blowes on his back, in as vast measure and cadence as were the verses which he made, yet the people were unsatisfied until they knew what was the offence he had committed; the occasion being known and divulged, it was presently concluded that the Lord confessed himself guilty, for what is the Sun the worse if he should be called dark by any man? Hereupon all the streets in the City had no other discouse but of my Lord and the Poet, and those who had never heard of the Satyre before, had now an extreme curiosity to see it. These reasons were so well approved by Prince Protogenes, that he acknowledged the Lord had done himself the wrong in making a complyance against me, and the first time that Protogenes saw him afterwards, he acquainted him with some part of the answer which I made him, with which he was intirely satisfied, and received me afterwards into his closest friendship.
I made an answer another time to Protogenes which did infinitely please him. We discoursed in his presence of Gentlenes, Courtesie, and Humility. He demanded who it was whom we conceived to be the most humble in all the Court; A Poetaster, who at that time was near unto him, did name a certain Lord, who (he said) had incomparable Courtesie and Complements, with which he did so well defend himself, that he was never overcome in Humility. You have reason so to affirm, said Protogenes, I have oftentimes observed him my self, What doe you think of him Francion? What man is there so bold (said I) as to differ in Judgement from you, whose Spirit is as great as your authority. I doe well perceive, (said the Prince) that you have not the same thoughts as I have, I doe give you free permission to speak your mind. Well then, said I. Take knowledge that I esteem that man whom you call humble, to be one of the proudest men in the world, and observe my reason for it. The Complements which he doth give to those who doe accost him, do not proceed from any knowlege of his own imperfections, but from an ardent desire to appear to be a well-spoken man. He hath a Soul within him that is proud beyond measure, his Presumption being inforced to discend, doth render it self more humble than otherwise it would, when by complement he is constrained to expresse himselfe. If we could read his heart within him, we might plainly discover how he doth but mock those to whom he doth please to humble himself, and by whose praises he doth perswade himself that he ought to be honoured for his Eloquence. For the rest of him we may discover that he makes no value of those to whom he doth communicate himself, and yet he doth not seem to despite them, to the end he might invite them to interchange discourse with him, and to advance him to the Skies, which doth transport him with an unbounded excesse of joy. Who is he that can describe unto us what Pride is, if this be not?
There were some who were ready to make a reply unto me, but the Prince stopped their mouths, and alleged that they did speak unprofitably against [Page 28]a thing which did carry in it such an appearence of Truth, doing me the honour to prefer my reasons above those of other men.
In this manner I passed away many moneths very happily, receiving dayly from him some favours or other, and for a long time I did not estrange my self from his presence, as I have done since I fell in love with Loretta. Behold, Sir, I have here given you an account of the greatest part of my adventurs, If possibly I could be so happy I would learn yours, without putting you to the trouble to rehearse them, which is the reason that I dare not importune you to acquaint me with them. Signior Bourgignon did make answer, It is a Maxime, that great Personages are the Masters only of great adventures, who either by their valour or their understanding do find an admirable successe in whatsoever they doe undertake, but vulgar spirits, and such as mine, are not in that capacity. There hath never any fortune arrived to me which is worthy of your ear. You may be confident of it, and doe not believe that I speak this to exempt my self from any trouble, for there is nothing so difficult which I would not perform to please you. I doe believe then, said Francion that nothing extraordinary did ever disturb your fortunes, and I am of opinion that it is a token of the felicity which Heaven hath imparted to you, not to send any such troubles or dangers to you as to my self; and it is a testimony also of your prudence, which hath kept you from the undertaking of things dangerous and uncommendable. If I had so much understanding as I ought to have, I should not peradventure have committed so many extravagancies as I have repeated to you, but should have demeaned my self with greater circumspection, I should never have disguised my self into a Minstrel nor have put my self to the trouble to repeat and upbraid the vanities of others, which might have cost me my life, and lastly I should have enjoyed far better fortune than now I doe, which might serve for an excellent example for all men in the World.
The Signior of the Castle said unto Francion that he ought not to complain of any thing that was passed, and that with a marvellous dexterity he had withdrawn himself from all manner of misfortunes. After this discourse he briefly examined all that at several times Francion had related to him, reflecting most on the History of his youth, and having remembred that he had made mention of Raymond who had taken his silver from him, he told him that he understood by one of his Servants where he was, and that he dwelt not far from that Castle, so that at any time when he pleased he would goe alon [...] with him, it being but a journey of recreation. Talk not to me of him, said Francion, I have no desire to behold that man. He who from his youth did learn to play the thief, must needs be now of notorious experience, I will have nothing to do with him, nor any of his Company. I would have you know that my name is Raymond, said the Signior, and on those words he did begin to swear himself into an extravagant Choler, I will make you repent, said he, whatsoever you contumeliously have spoken of Raymond.
Having spoke those words he departed out of the Chamber, and violently did shut the door. Francion who had quite forgot his countenance, was very sorry to hear these words to proceed from him, and was much astonished that he should be amazed for so small a Trifle.
The Stuart of the house came not until many hours afterwards unto him to bring him his Dinner, and then told him that his Master was so extremly incensed against him, that considering the severity of his Nature, he ought to fear, seeing he had him in his own Castle locked up from the sight and knowledge of the world, that he would take some great vengeance for the offences committed against him.
Francion all that day ceased not to entertain an infinite number of various thoughts concerning that subject, and with a great impatience attended to [Page]understand the resolution what Raymond would doe with him. The Steward assured him that on the next day he would bring him certain intelligence of it; and he failed not to come unto him according to his promise, and assured him, that his Master had conceived so extreme a displeasure against him ever since he had spoken something to him on the day forgoing, that he believed he was resolved to put him to death. Francion a long time deliberated with himself what offence he had committed against Raymond, and being not able to find it out, he was the most amazed man in the world. He was throughly recovered of the pain which he had in his head, and now he had no malady but in his Soul only. He would fain have put on his Clo [...]ths to address himself to Raymond, to understand what was the wrong which he had done him, and to assure him, that if he would demand satisfaction of him in the way of Knighthood, he was ready to fight with him in the field. [...]ut his cloaths were not in his chamber, and it was told him that a grea [...] charge was given that he should not rise. He was therefore constrained to keep his bed until the day following, at what time the Steward early in the morning came unto him with one of the Grooms of Raymonds Chamber, who told him they came to assist to make him ready. Francion made answer, that they should not take so much pains, for he desired that not any but his own Man might come unto him, but answer was returned, that Raymond would not give way that he should speak unto him.
THE EIGHTH BOOK OF THE COMICAL HISTORY OF FRANCION.
THe Adventures which Francion incountred in his minority have been already rehearsed in the forgoing Books, where, I have always brought him in, speaking in his own person what were the fortunes that did attend him. It is now time that his Historian should speak for him, and deliver the rest of his Adventures in the same strain and method. And I am resolved to doe it without taking care what it is, because I have undertaken it, and it may suffice that I doe give upon it this particular advertisement, that I have not found a more easie or more pleasing remedy against the affliction which a long time hath possessed me, than to write a History which should be as delighfull as it is serious, seeing a sad cause doth oftentimes produce a joyfull effect. Neither shall I regard the reproofs of some foolish persons, who will blame me for this work, seeing the most ingenious Spirits that were ever known have vouchsafed to follow these studies, and that our present life would appear too full of affliction, and too tedious, if we did nor take off the unpleasing severity of it with some delightfull interposure. It is to be too desperately melancholy, to imagin that he who makes a profession of Virtue, ought not to take any recreation at all. Let him act Heraclitus who hath a mind to it, and weep at the follies of the world; for my part I had rather personate Democritus, the most important affairs of this world being but as an Enterlude unto me. And seeing that laughter amongst all living Creatures is only proper unto man, I believe it is not given him without great reason, and that he is not only allowed to laugh himself, but to make others to laugh also. It is true that my first design was not to make this contentment vulgar, nor to please a number of people whom I doe not know, who may read this Comical History being printed, My intention was only in particular to please my friends; for I considered with my self, that all the world esteemed not this liberty of jeering mirth, not knowing that there is nothing more difficult than to be happy in it. Moreover, it did much trouble me to observe, that as serious things were only read by learned men, so vanities and follies were the proper studies of the vain and ignorant, and that there is not so poor a Groom who doth not make it his businesse to be taken with them. Neverthelesse, men of sound Judgement have advised me to publish this Book, and have so prevailed upon me, that at the last I have obeyed their perswasions, and I am of a belief that my Book may please as well the wise men in the world, as the simple, although they differ [Page 2]much in judgement. And because it hath been approved by some who are the professed lovers of wisedom, I will confesse with them, that I have mingled pleasure with profit, and that in deriding the vicious, I have so handsomly reproved their Vices, that there is some hope left that it will administer a good desire unto them to correct themselves, being ashamed of their passionate actions. But it may so fall out, that I doe but flatter and deceive my self, and I do entertain too high an opinion of my work, and of the disposition of Men. I know there are a generation of people so stupid, that they will not profit by it, and will believe that all my discourse is for no other purpose, but to give them pleasure only, and not to correct their humours. It therefore will be objected to me, that to meet with all sorts of men, it were my easiest and readyest course seriously to reprove all sorts of Vices, so that I might perswade the wicked rather to repentance than to laughter; but there was one reason which hindred me from taking that way, which is, that I must use a certain artifice to draw and allure all the world. It is necessary that I should imitate the Apothecaries, who with sugar cover their bitter potions to cause them to goe down the better. A Satyr whose apparence had been fierce and wild would have diswaded men from the reading of it by its title only. I shall only say, that by similitude I do shew a fair Palace, which on the outside hath the apparence to be filled with liberty and delights, but within there is nothing to be seen but severe Censures, unreprovable Accusers, and rigorous Judges. Here are Fables and Inventions to be seen, which without all doubt will appear to the Ignorant to be full of simplicity, who have not the capacity to dive into the depth of them; Neverthelesse, these Fables doe contain such Truths, that no man yet had ever the boldnesse to represent them. I include also in this book the evil actions of persons of authority, because in these days we do not love to behold Truth stark naked, and I do take it for a maxim, That sometimes we ought to hold our peace, that we might speak more freely for a longer time, that is to say, it is good to moderate our passionate language, and to confine our selves to certain times, for fear that the great ones should unresistably apprehend us, and condemn us to a perpetual silence. I had rather lose my good words than my good friends, and although I am a Satyrist I would carry it with so good a grace, that those men whom I doe reprove may not be offended at me. But when I reflect more maturely upon my work, that what if after all this, it shall lose in its estimation; for I have already concluded, that it will be of no great use to reform the vicious, and that withall it will bring but little contentment to some of the severest Readers. Of all the Spirits which I know there are but a very few who are sound enough to judge, for the greatest part doe amuze themselves on nothing else but to reprove those things whose beauties they are not capable to discover. When a Book is published, we ought to have the Switzers in the Stationers shop to defend it with their Halberds; for there are a race of idle people who make it all their imployment to censure whatsoever is printed, and believe it is enough to confirm them to be gallant men, if they can but say, It is not worth any thing, although they can give no reason for it. Every man in these times will appear to be a man of an excellent understanding, although there was never known a more heavy & a more predominant ignorance. A Schoolboy who is hardly out of the danger of the lash, having read but three or four French Books, will be ready to make as many himself, and believe himself able to surpasse all others. But this would be nothing at all, if he did not undervalue another to cry up his own reputation; but all respect and modesty is abandoned, & men will inforce themselves to look out defects where none are to be found. For my self, if I should be so unfortunate as to trespasse against the laws of Art in writing, yet I would have the world know that I doe not the lesse esteem of my self, for I am not the Master of so base a Soul as [Page 3]to imploy all my abilities on an Art, in which one cannot exercise himself without flatery or subjection. Having done nothing but only testified my hatred which I bear against the vicious, in a negligent and mirthfull discourse, I doe believe that I have done enough. But I may speak without presumption, that I have not committed any fault so great that may make me blush, if any one therefore shall make it his businesse to reprehend me, he shall but lose his time to play the Critick on me, who am the Critick of other men, and it may be of himself; he shall but grate his Teeth on the Anvill. Let therefore this male-contented humour be abandoned by all men, and let me return to the agreeable subject of my discourse.
You ought to understand, that Francion was constrained to permit the Groom of Raymonds Chamber to apparel him in a rich habiliment, according to the fashion of the antients, which by order from his Master he had brought unto him. He enquired of him, wherefore he did not apparel him in his own cloaths, or any other that were fashionable, but he could receive no other answer, but only that he was obedient to the commandment of his Master, The Steward having afterwards acquainted him that Raymond had assuredly a resolution to take him out of the world, Francion made answer, that he believed that in that habit of the Theater which he had sent him, he would make him act his own Tragedy, in which he should represent the part of some great person, who in times passed had been so put to death. The Steward replyed, I know not what he will doe, for with much difficulty have I learned that little which I have faithfully declared to you, out of a charitable compassion that you may the better prepare your self to depart this world; And I would advise you, Sir, not to be so frolick as you are, for you are neerer your end than you do think for. Francion made answer, I cannot leave my ordinary humour, whatsoever misfortune can arrive unto me, and I can assure you, that he helps me only but to make a shorter cut in my way to death, in which we every one doe travell; for either sooner or later we must all arrive at that Inn; Nothing afflicts me more than that I shall not dye like a Gentleman. If my King by Divine permission should have the news brought unto him of this cruelty, he would not suffer my death to be unpunished.
As he did speak these words, they did put about his Neck a chain of Diamonds, and a Hat on his head, the band whereof was heavy with precious stones of a great value. I think, said he, he will observe the custom of the ancient Romans, who crowned the Victims they were to sacrifice with the most beautifull Garlands. You put upon me these rich ornaments to conduct me to my death; what need have I of this gorgeous attire? Being made ready, they told him he must goe whither they would lead him. He did consent unto it, resolving with himself to take hold in the way of the first Instrument of defence he could find, therewith to resist those who should oppose him, for he had no desire to be put to death without giving before hand some demonstrations of his incomparable valour.
In this resolution he came out of his Chamber, wirh a countenance no more troubled than if he had been going to a Banket. I doe believe that Socrates being in the same condition would not have so unalter'd and so constant a Spirit. He passed with his conductors tbrough the Galleries and the Chambers, and in the way he listned to an Air that he had hererofore himself composed, which was sung in a room that was not far from him. The Ditty was this.
[Page 4] This was some good presage unto him, and conceiting with himself that his death could not be so near, he listned again to the voice which he heard, and collected to himself that he had heard the same voice some where else, but he could not tell where. At the last, behold where Collinet Clerantes Fool did come singing in before him, and imbraced his thighs with incredible demonstrations of affection. My good Master, said he, where have you been all this while, I have been looking you out a long time, Now I have found you let us be merry together. Francion being much amazed to see Collinet there, did modestly cause him to withdraw himself, without laughing at any of his vanities, and told him that he would speak more freely with him, when he was at leisure. Being come to the door of the great Hall, he beheld a larg Square hung round about with Garlands of Flowers, and did there read these words which were written in Letters of Gold. Let none assume the boldnesse to enter here, if he hath not a Soul that is truely generous, and renounceth not the opinions of the vulgar, and if he loveth not the pleasures of Love.
Francion entred, being assured that it was permitted to him so to do, he found there four Gentlemen and five Gentlewomen, sitting in chairs in a Corner, and moving no more than so many Statues. At the last one of the Ladies began to speak, and gravely commanded him to repose himself on a chair which was brought unto him. My good Friend, said she▪ you have offended Raymond, we are here present to arraign you. I desire (said Francion, who much was amazed at these strange proceedings) to understand what Crime I have committed against him. You do pretend to be ignorant, said one of the Gentlemen, you shall by and by hear your charge.
After that these nine Judges had discoursed amonst themselves to advise what sentence they should pronounce against him, the Lady who did speak first of all, being seated in her chair again, did deliver her self to this effect.
Having considered the offences which Francion the most ungratefull and most perfidious Knight that ever sought after perillous adventures, hath committed against Raymond, who did intreat him as courteously as was possible. We do ordain that he shall be put into the hands of the most rigorous Lady of the World, to be punished according to his merits.
This judgement being pronounced Lorretta came forth, and Francion was surrendred to her mercy. Never man was more amazed, he knew not whether he ought to rejoyce, or be sad. Raymond immediatly entred, and imbracing him did take all amazement from him. He said unto him, My dear Friend, This is the time that I will give you the testimony of the affection which I doe bear unto you, having prepared for you all the delights that I possibly can devise. I have sent to seek out your Loretta, that if you doe still love her, her presence may convey some secret joy unto you, and which is more, I have caused five Ladies to come hither, one whereof is my Helena, if you please you may make choice of her.
These four Gentlemen are the bravest personages in this Country, and the most worthy of your Company. One of them is Signor Dorini the Italian, of whom I have already spoken unto you, and for the others you will have sufficient experience of their worth. All that we have to do is to deport our selves in the height of all Debauchments. The hatred which I pretended to bear unto you, was only to render now more gratefull the fruits of my love. I have so great an opinion of the constancy of your Soul, that I knew well enough the assurances that were made unto you, that undoubtedly you should die, would cause no disturbance in it. For the rest I was constrained to exempt my self from seeing you, and to make you keep your Bed, that I might have the greater advantage to provide what I conceived to be necessary, and to indeavour to make you passe away this day in the excesse of pleasure and delight. [Page 5] Francion made answer to him, that he could not believe he did bear that ill will unto him which was reported, and speaking those words they entred into an obligation of an inviolable and a perpetual love to one another.
This was that which passed betwixt Raymond and Francion, and in effect Raymond, to gratifie him, did promise to make him such cheer, that the like was never seen, and their debauchment was yet greater than can be imagined. Wherefore O you young men and maids, who have not yet lost the flower of your Virginity, I doe here in a good time advertise you to read no further, but to skip over this Book, which doth make a rehearsal of those things which you do not understand, It will be told me that I may leave it out, but know, that the History would be imperfect without it, for in books of Satyres as this, it is the same, as in the bodies of Men, who when they are guelded are the Subjects of all mockery and hatred. I have already declared, that having undertaken to inveigh against all the vices of men, and to deride their follies, I ought to represent many things in their native colour, to make them the more ridiculous. There is nothing so unknown but sensual Men can speak far more of it, which is the reason that we will adventure through all, and you are to consider that it is done without the least evil design, and merrily, only to passe away an hour or two.
We will in this place declare, that Francion was not afterwards much amazed to see himself so apparalled as he was, because he beheld that Raymond, and the other Gentlemen were attired almost in the same fashion. The Ladies themselves who were cloathed according to the ordinary fashion, were conveyed into a Chamber, where habiliments were brought unto them according to the fashion in which we see Ladies many hundred years agoe represented, and indeed there is nothing that doth make Ladies to appear more beautifull or majestical. At that time Agatha came to Francion, to do reverence unto him, to whom she related, that she had been in the Castle of Valentine, and pretending that she would take his Niece along with her, to go some ten leagues off in pilgrimage, she by that means had brought her to Raymonds Castle, according to the plot that was made betwixt them.
It was there represented to her, that she must goe and attire her self as the rest of the Ladies, she demanding not the reason, being glad that once in her life she should see her self gallant, did depart from Francion: Not long afterwards she returned, being as it were transported with a sudden joy, to acquaint the men that they should follow her, and she would shew them a pleasant spectacle. One of the Ladies being gone out of the chamber where all the rest were, did retire her self into one of the fore-chambers, that she might there accommodate her self with the greater liberty. She had nothing on but her smock only, which she had then taken off to shake the Fleas from it, and being stark naked she began to rub her thighs, and to pare the nails of her feet: Agatha immediatly opened the door, of which she had the key, and the poor Lady hearing the voice of Men at the door, did look out some place to hide herself, but Agatha had taken all her habiliments from her. She was seated upon a Bed to which there was neither Testor nor Curtains, there was nothing left but the Mat and the Bolster, which she thought good to cover her head with, that none might know who she was. Being on the further side of the bed, she did trusse up her self in such a posture, that nothing could be seen of her but her Posteriors only. Every one did begin to laugh at the sight of that goodly Object, and demanded of Agatha who that Lady was. She made answer she would say nothing, seeing she knew so well to conceal her self. Whereupon Raymond alleged, she only hides her self after the manner of some Birds, who believe that if they hide their heads, no other part of their body can be seen. But it is not with her, as it is with those Birds, said Dorini, for we may discern and know them; howsoever by [Page 6]their feathers, which always shew themselves, but in this posture we cannot know this Lady, although we had seen her stark naked before. Francion did approach unto her, and taking as full a sight of her as possibly he could, he embraced her about her middle, striving to pluck her from the Post of the Bed at which she held fast, that so having made her forsake her hold, he might turn her towards him to know who she was by her face. But he could not force her from her hold. And as in that posture she shewed a pair or the plumpest Buttocks in the world, there was one present who cryed out by way of admiraration, Oh Gentlemen, what a sight is this which I see! Raymond, who heard him, did immediatly reply, What is it that you do startle at, and have in so much wonder? one of the most amiable parts of the whole Body. That which in your judgement doth seem to be filthy, and ought not to be exposed to the sight of the world, It is nothing else but the extreme superficies of the thighes joyned together, I take as much delight to behold them as any other part of the Body. It is nothing but the opinion of the vulgar that doth render it disagreeable, and they are not able to give a reason for it. I refer my self to Charron, he speaks so himself of them in his Book of Wisedom. On my faith you are too nice, we will all doe homage to them, the others replyed; Will you be the first that will begin?
The scandalous Chronicle here doth add, that Raymond having spoke these words determined to put them into effect, and that Francion who commended his design did make an Oration to those goodly Demy-globes, which incited every one that was present to approach and kisse them, and that the Lord Dorini going last of all did find most plainly a certain Northern wind to proceed from her sally-port, which gave an ungratefull visitation to his Nose. I will not here amuze my self to describe all the particulars, which peradventure will not be pleasing unto every one, nor assure you that what I heard concerning this, is altogether true, which is, that Raymond proceeding in his debauchments, would second the gallantry of those men, who in the ordinary tippling-houses drinking in an old shooe, do mingle with their wine Cheese, and grease of Candles, and other honest ingredients, and that he sending for wine, did pour it all along the back of that fair and naked body, and commanded all the rest to come and drink it up at it was running down her cleft. Let us remove our observations from so slovenly an entertainment, and not to blemish the reputation of our Cavalliers, Let us imagin that they only contented themselves to speak some words in praise of those goodly Buttocks, and that one did call them the Queens and Princesses of all other Buttocks, and that another wished that they might never sit on Nettles, but always on Cushions. To reserve our modesty, we will in some sort decline from the censure of scrupulous Spirits; and I believe the frolick humours which are here contained ought not to give occasion of affront to any, for the greatest part of this book is only made to laugh. We may take unto us the liberty to rehearse some of the pleasant adventures which are arrived to men of an evil life, for it is permitted us to laugh at their expence. For the rest, all these debauchment are very true, and I doe give you them for such, and doe so expresse them, that I may not be blamed for reciting them; Even those whose particular design it is, to condemn them in a serious stile, must, to set them forth, repeat them also, as well as my self, and I am confident that I deliver them in those words, that are more capable to make men to hate them than to love them, for I protest I approve of no actions which are contrary to Vertue, I will therefore proceed on with our History without fear.
Let us say then that after our Gallants had finished their pastime with this Lady, who would not shew her face, they would have entred into the Chamber where the other Ladies were, but they would not open the doors unto them, and the reason why they would not suffer themselves to be seen, was [Page 7]because they should not know who of them it was whom they beheld in that naked posture in the other Chamber. Therfore they all departed without knowing any thing of her at all. Francion coming down the stairs among the rest, seeing Collinet, demanded of Raymond by what means he came into his Castle. Raymond made answer, Some of your people did bring him along with them from the vilage where you left him. He came not out of Paris in my company, said Francion. His Servants then that came to wait upon him, did acquaint him, that Collinet being deprived of His company which he loved better than Clerantes, would never leave enquiring until he had found the way which he took when he came out of Paris, and by little journeys followed him till he had found him out. I will tell you, said Raymond, what a pranck he played this morning. Seeing Helena to alight from her Caroach, he began to walk up and down the Hall in a Majestick garb, as if he were a man of some great authority in the House, and Helena being entred, he only putting his hand to the brim of his hat, said unto her, Good Morrow, Good Morrow Madam, who is it you would speak withall? She made a civil answer, that she would speak with me, and going a little further she sate down in a chair not far from him; Their discourse was on ordinary subjects, in which Collinet did shew no defect of Judgement. He enquired from what place Helena came, of what Country she was, if she were married or not, and what Revenue yearly belonged to her house, and deported himself with so great a gravity, that Helena beholding him to be well apparalled, did take him for some personage of Honour, and although she is constantly discreet and deliberate enough, she durst not lift up her eyes to behold him. But he could not long contain himself in these terms of modesty and reason, he must shew his disposition. And doe you come to see Raimond then? said he, I am very glad of it. He is one of my best Cosens, He gave me a good Supper last night when ever I came within his doors, and made me feed on the best green Pease that I ever did eat in my life. Sir, said Helena, you are too generous, to love your kinred only for the poor courtesie of a Supper. Let us talk then Madam of something else, said he, Doe you love to be tumbled and laid on your Back, for on the faith of an honest man, you shall presently be so, we doe all proceed from Generation, and propagation, although we look as old as Cato himself: You begin to be uncivil Sir, she replyed, who would have thought you would have these words? Will you contest then? will you be obdurate to me? said he. Speaking those words he would have taken hold of her, to put his design in execution, but she cryed out so loud, that I was enforced to come down from my Chamber to hasten to her relief. She demanded of me, if I had sent for her to be used as one of the most debauched Women in the world? I suddenly appeased her, having told her what a distracted man Signior Collinet was. But my dear heart, said Raymond unto Francion, Take you no care, for she will not be so cruel to your Indearments, and the Loves you shall make unto her, no more will any of her Companions, we shall find them to be of a flowing disposition; Let me alone to give you content, I will recompense you a hundred fold for the silver which heretofore I did take from you.
Francion, having thanked him for his courtesie, did goe to Collinet, and said unto him, that he did esteem more highly of him, than of those men who conceiving themselves to be wise did glorifie themselves, and yet had more vanity and folly in their Spirits than he had in his. For that, said he, which is ordinarily taken for the greatest wisedom in the world, is nothing else but folly, error, and defect of Judgement, as I can make it to appear if it were needfull: And we ourselves who sometimes do believe that we do wel to imploy our time in Love, and Feasts, and Mummeries, shall find at last that we doe but deceive our selves, and that we are but very Fools. Sicknesse will afflict us, the debility of our Members will surprize us, before we can arrive to fifty years of age. [Page 8]Leave off that Discourse, let me beseech you (said Raymond,) I am not now in the humor to give ear unto these Preachments; neither do I well know if you are in the humor to make them. Having spoken these words, he departed from him, to entertain a gallant number of Gentlemen and Burgesses who lived thereabouts, whom he had invited unto Dinner, with some brave Ladies, who were a little more chast than those that were there already, who came down into the Hall most richly attired, and Francion having whispered and demanded of them, Which of them it was who had shewed her Buttocks? did mark them all very curiously, to see which of them did blush, that he might discover her by it; but there was not one of them who had a Countenance more shamefac'd than another, neither did they give any answer at all; for she of whom he did speak, intreated her Companions not to discover her, so that for the present it was concealed from him.
Not long afterwards there was covered a long Table, which immediatly was charged with such a diversity of Victuals, that it seemed they had taken almost all the Creatures of the Earth, to devour them at one Dinner. When they had satisfied their greatest hunger, Raymond told every one of them, that He must observe the Laws which were inscribed on the portal of the Door, to chase from them all shame, and resolve to make the greatest Debauchment that was ever heard of. Immediatly all the Casements of the windows were shut, and the Curtains being drawn Candles were lighted; for they would not have taken so much pleasure in that Course of life, if they had seen the day. Every one sung his Song with a glasse in his hand, and they told so many merry Stories, that they would make a Volume by themselves, if they were all particularly related. The Women having lost their shame, did rehearse also the most wanton tales that possibly they could remember.
A Gentleman upon some Discourse told them, That he would recite unto them one of the most notable stories in the world, and thus began, There was a Curate in our Village, who loved as well the Company of a Woman, as of his Prayer-book. I beseech you Sir, (said Raymond) that you will forbear to repeat it, We must not speak of those People, although they do offend, It belongs to their Bishop, and not to us to reprove them. If you detract them, you are to be excommunicated, and to be numbred amongst the Libertins of this Age, against whom so much Warr is waged; Be not so rash as to fall on that Subject. The Gentleman held his peace, and all the Company having approved his opinion, not to speak against those, of whom already so much hath been said, that no more can be added, they determined with themselves not so much as to think that there was a Priest living in the world. They found, that there were enough of other Conditions of Men to be condemned, from whom the depravations of this Age did receive their Original. It is true, that in the beginning of Heresies all the World made the people of the Church the subject of their Discourse; There was no Account conceived to be witty, that had not a Priest in it. Erasmus, Rablais, the Queen of Navarr, Marot, and divers others, delighted themselves in this Conceit, and before them many Italians. Neverthelesse we must avow, That all this hath not the power to divert a religious Soul from the Path-way of Faith, and at that time when it was shewed us that our Priests were very wicked, it was not to conclude that our Religion was evil: So Boccace, who in his Novels did shew himself to be the Master of an excellent spirit, doth tacitly accuse all those who speak of the People of the Church, which but few Men do take notice of. He informs us, that a Jew at Rome having observed the wicked life of the Priests and Monks, did not for all that forbear to make himself a Christian, affirming, That he plainly perceived that our Religion was the best, because it subsisted, and every day did fortifie it self, in spite of the exorbitances of the Church-men, and necessarily it must be, That God had a particular Care of the Church. Raymond had these considerations, and [Page 9]moreover he alleged, That weak spirits do believe all which they apprehend, without diving into the depth of Causes, and that to avoid Scandal, it is alwayes Good not to meddle at all with the Dispencers of holy things; I have been my self of the same Opinion; and you shall observe, that in all this History I do not so much as touch on the Priests at all. The Gentlemans story being thus interrupted, they discoursed afterwards on several other Subjects.
A certain Lord, who sate near to Francion, did shew him Agatha, who was placed at the upper end of all the Table, and whispering him in the ear, did say unto him, Sir, Know you not the reason wherefore Raymond hath in that place seated that old Woman, who seems to be rather a piece of some old Cabanet, than a Lady of Pleasure? He would that we should give our selves to all manner of Voluptuousnesse, and yet he seems thereby to withdraw us rather from Love, than to invite us to it; for he putteth that terrifying Object before all our eyes, which cannot but beget a horror and a trembling in our Spirits. It is certain, that here are other Ladies who are incomparably beautifull, and are able to give us pleasures in abundance, yet neverthelesse he ought not to have mingled that Cumaean Sybill amongst them. Know Sir (said Francion) that Raymond hath too noble a Spirit to do any thing that is incongruous. He doth invite us by that Object to addict our selves to all the pleasures of the World. Have you not heard that the Egyptians in their greatest Feasts did place the skull of a dead Man on their Table, to the end, that thinking that peradventure they should not be to morrow amongst the living, they should endeavour themselves to imploy their present time to their best advantage. By this Object Raymond doth wisely advertise us of the self-same thing, that our selves and these young Ladies may take our full Carrier of Pleasure, before we shall arrive unto that age, in which there shall be nothing but Complaints and Griefs. I know not what carkasse of Death it is that Raymond there present us with, said the Gentleman, but she eateth and drinketh more than four living Creatures: If it be so with all the rest of the dead, Pluto hath something to do to feed them. If it be so (said Francion) You may observe the reason which makes so many living unwilling to die, It is because they are afraid to retire into a place where Famine reigneth.
Many other Discourses there were at the Table, and after all was taken away, Francion who had not yet the leisure to entertain Loretta, did now take the opportunity to court her, and to assure her what was the trouble of his Soul which he indured, being not able to make use of the opportunity which she had permitted him to take. And because he was not curious to enquire of her what was the obstacle that interrupted their designs, she forsook that Discourse, having assured him that she would make him recompence for the time he had lost, and for the disgraces he had sustained, which assurance brought much comfort to him.
Raymond interposing himself, did take him aside, and asked him, If he were not at that present in the highest degree of Contentment, having her with him whom so entirely he affected? That I may conceal nothing from you (said he) I have more Desires than there are Sands in the Sea, which maketh me afraid that I never shall have rest. I love Loretta well, and am glad that I have her with me; but I would delight my self in the loves also of an infinite number of other Ladies, whom I affect as well as her self. Every hour the fair Diana, the accomplished Flora, the attractive Beliza, the lovely Iantha, the incomparable Marphiza, and an infinite number of other beauties, do represent themselves to my Fancy, with all the delights they have, and with those also which peradventure they have not. If one should lock you up in a Chamber with all these Ladies (said Raymond,) all that possible you could do, would be but enough to content but one of them. I vow unto you (said Francion,) you speak the Truth, but this day I would sport my self with one, and too morrow with another, and [Page 10]if they found themselves not satisfied with what I did, I would permit them (if they thought good of it) to seek out some one else who may be an assistant to them in the full fruition of their desires.
Agatha being behind him did listen to this Discourse, and interrupting him, she said, Ah Brave young Man! You are of a good and commendable disposition; I perceive well enough that if all the World were of your temper, we should not know what Marriage is, and should never be obliged to observe that Law. You say true (said Francion,) There is nothing that doth bring more bondage to us than that Injurious Knot, and Honor the cruel Tyrant to our Desires. If we have a handsom Wife she will be courted by all the World, and who can hinder it? The Common People, who are infinitely suspitious, and will take hold on the least apparences, will report me to be a Cuckold, and will affront me with a thousand Injuries, although my Wife be a vertuous Woman; for if they behold any to talk with her in the Street, they'l believe that she will take a greater liberty when she is in her own House: On the contrary, if to eschew this Evil, I should marry an ill-favoured Wife, thinking to avoid one Gulf, I do fall into another that is more dangerous, I should never have any rest, or joy. He is driven to despair who hath alwayes a Fury for his Companion in his Bed, and at his Table. It is farr beter that we were all free. Without joyning in Marriage we should joyn our selves with those whom we like best; and when we are weary of one, it should be permitted to us to go unto another. If a Woman stood affected to me, she should for all that, if she had a mind thereunto, prostitute her self to another, and although peradventure it was brought unto my knowledge, yet I should not be offended at it; for the Chimera's of Honour should not be lodged in our Brains; and it should not be forbidden us to goe and to Court the Mistresses of others. There would be none but Bastards in the world, and by consequence we should see none but most gallant Men. All those who have performed extraordinary atchievments, and transcended the Vulgar, all those whom Antiquity hath called Heroes, were Bastards. In this number was Hercules, Theseus, Romulus, Alexander, and divers others. You will represent unto me, that if all Women were common, as in Cato's Commonwealth, one could not tell to whom the Children did belong which were begotten; But of what Importance is that? Lauretta who doth not know who was her Father, nor who was her Mother, and who troubles not her head to enquire after them, Is she any thing the worse for it, if she be not the same, as a vain Curiosity may perswade her that she is not? Now in this Case this Curiosity would be to no purpose, and none but unreasonable persons would desire the knowledge of that which is either impossible, or of no Importance: Nay, this would be a Cause of a transcendent Good; for thereby we should be inforced to abolish all Preheminence, and all Nobility; Every one should be equal to another, and the Fruits of the Earth should be common to us all. The Laws of Nature should be had only in reverence, and every one should live as in the golden Age. There are many other things to be spoken on this Argument, but I reserve them to another time.
After that Francion had spoke these words, whether in earnest or in jest it is uncertain, yet sure it is, that Raymond and Agatha did approve his Reasons; and told him, That for this time he must he contented to delight himself only with the Pleasures of Loretta. He made answer, That accordingly he would endeavour to content himself. In this Discourse they were when the Musick entred into the Hall, who played all manner of Dances. All the fair Women of the Cities and Villages thereabouts were come then into the Castle, with some young Gentlewomen who were accomplished with all perfections, and there were some Gentlemen with them who could Dance very well. The Cadences, the Galliards, the Currantoes and Lavoltoes, did warm the wanton appetites of them all. On every side there was nothing seen but kisses & embraces, [Page 11]& when Night was come, the Table was covered with a magnificent Collation, more gratefull than a Supper; For in the first Course there were served in most exquisite Viands, with which those that were hungry might replenish themselves. There were such an abundance of Confects of all sorts, that every one having filled both their Bellies and their Pockets, there still remained a great quantity, with which they made a sweet Warre, throwing them at one another on every side. The Drums, the Trumpets, and the Hoboys did then begin to sound aloud in the Court, and the Viols played in a place near unto the Hall, and with the Voyces of the Assistants made an Incomparable Musick. The Confusion was so great and pleasant, that I know not how to represent it to you. It were a hard task to number the Virgins who that night lost their Maidenheads, or the Husbands that were made Cuckolds. In the tumult of so great an Assembly (which hindred that those who did go away could not be seen) many escaped with their Mistresses to content their desires in some more private place. There were some Women who had appointed their Sweethearts to meet in that very place, it being the most convenient they could chuse, and where they could not be in those dangers which they feared in their own houses. Raymond, who desired that his House might be entirely consecrated to Love, did give command that the greatest part of the Chambers should be ready furnished, and left open to serve as a Refuge to the Lovers. They were well prepared to entertain them. The four Knights and their Ladies did for their parts never stirr out of the Hall, having leisure enough in another hour to take their delights by themselves. The others made use of every place, and took their adventures with their Loves on one side and on the other, exercising themselves in an infinite number of Pleasures. Francion handled all the Women he did meet with as he pleased himself. He took one of the six Ladies of the Castle, who was called Teresia, and having laid her all along on the Form, on the end whereof there was a great Candle burning, he trussed up her Petticoat behind, and kissed her Buttocks, on which there was a little black Mole, which he no sooner perceived, but he laughing said, Ha, ha, ha Teresia, You have carried it very cunningly. It is you whom this morning we saw naked. The Mark which you have doth cause me to know you. Immediatly he did go to proclaim it to all the world, in what manner he had found out the Buttocks to which that Morning they did homage, and every one laughed heartily at it. Peresia, who seemed not to be much startled at it (in a bold humor, and such a one as belonged to the place wherein she was) did say unto all the Men there present, And what of all this? You have seen my Posteriors? Have you a mind to see them again? I shall not be so bard-hearted as to deny you the sight of them. Who deserveth most worthily to be laugh'd at, either you, or I? I only shewed them by force, but you kissed them of your own accord.
Having left off this Discourse, Raymond, who loved a life to fight with the glasse, did cause the most lusty Wines to be drawn and brought forth, to entertain some good Companions, who did defie the strength thereof. There is nothing (said he) that is comparable to this Drink, it fills those with a certain Divinity who drink deeply of it. It doth drive away all fearfull Impressions which Error and Ignorance had brought upon us. It is by this power that the Orator in his Orations feareth not to speak home to his Auditory, and that a Lover with boldnesse discovers his Malady to her who is the Cause thereof. Victory is ordinarily purchased by those Souldiers whom this VVine doth render valiant. Drink then, Drink deeply, and let us wish to die as George Duke of Clarence, who by the sentence of the King of England being constrained to lose his life, did cause himself to be put into a Pipe of wine, of which he did drink so much that he did burst again. Come to it, Francion, and take thy fill, said Raymond. Francion made answer, I am but a bungler at Drinking, I had [Page 12]rather imploy my strength in sporting with Loretta than with Bacchus. If I drink too much, any whole Body will be so brutishly besotted, that I can take only but a faint pleasure with Women, I had almost said a dolorous one. Well, well, said Raymond, Every man is free here to drink what he pleaseth; Follow that pleasure which is most agreeable unto you.
The Musicians then did sing many new Aires, joyning the sound of their Lutes and Viols to that of their voices. Ah, said Francion, leaning his head on the breast of Loretta. after the view of an excellent beauty, there is no other pleasure can so much inchant me, as that of Musick, my heart leaps at every accent, and me thinks I am no more my self. The tremblings of the voice doe make my Soul deliciously to tremble also; for my Nature is constantly inclined in motion, I am always in a pleasing agitation. My spirit and my Body do always tremble at every little shaking, you may easily behold the proof of it, for with some difficultie I doe now hold this glasse in my hand, I have such a trembling all over me. That which I can play best upon the Lute are but tremblings. I touch not your fair brest but with a kind of trembling;▪ My Soveraign pleasure is the wanton motion, yet me thinks, I am all Divine, I would be always in motion like the Heavens. Having spoke those words, he took a Lute from one of the Musicians, and the Ladies desiring him to shew his skill thereon, he began to touch it, and at the same time did sing an Air, the ditty whereof I care not if I do here insert. And I am so true an Historian, that I know not what should withold me from giving you the Note also, that so I may forget no circumstance, and the Reader may have a thorough knowledge of it. This will not be difficult unto me to doe, for I have inserted no verses in this Book, which have not some Air or other to attend them; and I doe not herein as those men, who instead of Sonnets doe give you Songs, without knowing whether they ought to be sung or not; you may assure your self, if men would put the prick Song, and the tablature of the Lute in their Romances with the Songs which there they find, it would be an invention to make them sell as well, as the Pictures doe the Books, with which the Stationers now a days do imbellish their Title-pages, to render them the more merchandable. But without examining what Fancy hath possessed me to give a Rule to others, content your selves at this present with the words only of Francions Song, and guesse by the cadence at the Air thereof.
This Song which the Musicians played upon their Lutes, after that Francion had recited one couplet of the verses, did ravish the Spirits of all the standers by, the cadence was so taking, and so softly wanton, that with the words to which it was set, it invited all the world to the pleasures of Love. All who were in the Hall breathed forth their Souls after the charms of pleasure. The lights also at that time being moved, I know not by what wanton Air, did seem to breath like the men, and to be possessed with some passionate desire. A sweet Fury having seized upon their Souls they played the Sarabands, which the greatest part danced confusedly, intermingling diverse wanton and provoking postures.
Some Ladies who hitherto had preserved their honour, did now abandon it, conforming themselves to others who were examples to them; Raymond having left off drinking, which held him some hours, did now addresse himself to the Women, and in his entertainment of them he used such coarse words, that I cannot otherwise expresse them, but according to the vulgar, that is in down right language. Francion observing it, said unto him, Sir, Upon my Faith I must blame you, and all those who have such words in their mouths; Wherefore so, my dear Friend, said Raymond, Is there any hurt to assume the boldnesse to speak of those things which we are so bold to act? Doe you conceive that thing to be so reverend and venerable, that we ought not so much as to speak of it? That is not it, said Francion, you may talk of it freely enough, and name it without scandal, but I would have it in more cleanly terms than those which you expresse. It is manifest that brave men when they would testifie their gallantry, doe make choice of the most excellent words [Page 14]they can collect, and use not such which are the proper expressions of Porters, Lackeys, and all the Offalls of the world, who have no other words at Command; For my self, It doth much incense me, when sometimes I do perceive a Poet doth believe he hath made a good Copy of Verses, when it is made odious with such filthy words. The greatest part of those Men who have published the new Collection of the French Poets, are much to be condemned for it; and moreover they have in that Book printed such foolish Songs, that they are fit for none but [...]apsters in Tipling houses, and the black-Guard in the Louvre. They show to all the world the infamous Verses which they have composed; wherein there is nothing remarkable, but that they bluntly name those natural acts and parts of our Body, which Ingenuity would have cloathed with cleaner Language; Neverthelesse, the Spirits of the Ignorant are most moved to laughter at such broad expressions; And are these, do you think, fit Ornaments for Poesie? I doe desire that such Men as we are should speak in another manner, to render our selves different from the Vulgar, and that we should invent some decent words for those things, of which we doe delight so often to Discourse. On my Faith, and good reason have you for it (said Raymond) but tell me, Do not we make love in the same manner as the poorest Peasants? Why then shall we use Expressions that are different from theirs? You deceive your self, (said Francion) we make love in another manner, we use a nobler familiarity than those who have only a desire to glut their stupid appetit, in which they do not differ at all from Beasts; for they make love but with their Bodies only, but we make love with our Souls and Bodies both together. Observe how I play the Philosopher on this subject. You will tell me, that all our Courtly Postures and Indearments are to no purpose, and that they all tend to the same end. I will acknowledge it, there is nothing more true. You will then reply, I have my Desire; for by consequence we ought then to speak in the same words as they, of that thing. Observe what I shall say more, Although they have the same Parts of Body, and the same Organs of Speech as we have; for in their Discourse they do move their tongues, they open their mouths, and unlock their teeth as we do; yet they have not those attractions, and transportations of Spirit: For in the Sport of Love, although our bodies have the same action with theirs, yet our Spirits are farr above theirs, and carry with them that inward love and sweetnesse, of which they are not capable; we should therefore use other terms than they doe; for the distinction is, and ought to be, That in our loves we have something divine and celestial; but their Love is altogether terrestrial and sensual.
Every one admired at this subtil argument of Francion, which (no disparagement to the Logicians) hath not its Second in the world. The Women did principally approve his Reasons, because they would have been very glad to have new words to expresse those things which they loved best, to the end, that leaving the old words, which sound not civilly in their mouthes, they might speak freely of all, without fear of being blamed, because the iniquity and corruption of the world could not so soon make this New Language odious.
Francion was then intreated to give names of his own Invention, to all those things which he should find not well named; and the better to invite him to it, they told him, It would make his Name to fly over all France, and render him more famous than already he was; for every one would be studious to enquire after the Author of these Novelties, of which they would never speak without making mention of him. Francion for the present did excuse himself, and said, That ere it were long he would advise with some of his most knowing Friends about it, to be thoroughly resolved of it. Moreover he did swear, that when ever he had leisure he would compose a Book of the Practise of the most pleasant Sports of Love.
[Page 15]This Entertainment being ended, many Gentlemen and Ladies who desired not to lie that Night in Raymonds Castle, did take their leave of him, and returned to their own houses: Those who stayed behind, retired not long afterwards two by two into the Chambers that were left open for them. Francion was with Lauretta, and Raymond with Helena, and the others with those who did best please them; I will not undertake to give you an account in this place of their infinite pleasures, It is a task beyond my ability.
The next day, and six days following, they imployed themselves in all the delights that could be imagined. But Francion having considered with himself, that if he were deprived of the Company of Lauretta, the Pourtraict of Nays which Raymond had shewed him, would throw his restlesse Spirit into a new unquietnesse, he resolved with himself to enquire of Dorini after her; and whether that most accomplished piece were a Fancy of the Painter, or an Imitation of some other work of Nature? Dorini did satisfie him that it was the Pourtraict of one of the most beautifull Ladies of all Italy, who was yet living; and thus he pursued his Discourse.
In the Confines of Romania there is a young Lady called Nays, the Relict of a brave Marquesse, to whom she was married but six moneths, she hath lived a Widdowed life a year, and more. You may imagine that her perfections and riches have procured her Servants enough. She hath so great a number of them, that it may be said, she can both sell, lend, and give, and yet not one of all those who court her, can obtain of her any remarkable favour. Amongst all the Italians, there is not any, but only her deceased Husband, whom she could love. Her Inclination doth lead her to love the French, insomuch that having seen the Picture of a young Gentleman of this Country named Floriander, a Man of an excellent Feature and Complexion, she was so passionately in love with it, as if she had seen not his Picture, but him himself, because she had often heard a large rehersal of his Vertue. To find a remedy for her grief, she freely discovered her self to me, as to her Kinsman, and assured Friend. I did comfort her the best I could, and did put her into good hopes, and she following my Counsel, caused that Picture to be drawn which you have seen, that it might be sent to Floriander, to invite him to take the pains to come unto her, and court her in the way of Marriage. I had a long time a desire to see this Kingdom of France, which was the reason that I freely offered my self to serve her in this affair, where no man could better assist her than my self. After my arrival to the Court, I attained to the knowledge of this Gentleman, whom I found to be of a sweet disposition, and most inclinable to Love, which assured me that I should easily gain his good-will for Nays. I was once determined to acquaint him with her Riches, and the Nobility of her Birth, having first shewed him her Beauty, and to assure him of the great affection she did bear unto him, for all her great distance from him; But I altered a little that Resolution, seeing that he began to be indisposed in his health, for which the Physicians counselled him to drink of certain Waters which are in a Village not far from our Country. I did write word to my Kinswoman that she should take some occasion to come thither, and not lose that opportunity to draw him into her Nets. I doe not well know if she were there in expectation of him, or not, but if she were, she hath lost her labour; for Floriander is since dead. I have wrote her word of it, but cannot tell whether she hath received the Letter or not, or whether she is come from her own House to give him a Meeting at the Waters. I will return unto her with all the speed I can, to comfort her in her afflictions. Ah! said Francion, I dare assure you Sir, I will wait upon her in any place wheresoever she may be found: so rare a Beauty doth deserve a journy of many moneths, to obtain but a sight of her. I have alwayes been in love with beautifull Ladies wheresoever I have seen them; nay, I have been in love with those also whom only I have heard reported to be lovely; I will not now [Page 16]derogate from my commendable custome. Moreover, I for a long time have had a desire to see Italy, that fair Garden of the world, I shall now find a happy occasion to invite me to it. In the first place I will have recourse unto the waters to meet with Nays there, and will not you Dorini be pleased to take the pains to goe along with me? If you desire, said Dorini, to incounter with Nays at the Bathes, you must be gone in the morning betimes, and use all possible diligence; For my own part, I have a desire to stay a moneth or two with Count Raymond, for the accomplishing of some design I have in hand, you must therefore excuse me that I cannot keep you Company, but I doubt not but that on my return I shall find you at Rome with Nays, who cannot but be surprized with your merits and your person, as soon as ever she shall behold you; And were it not that she still keepeth by her the pourtract of her deceased Lover, I would advise you for a few days at your first accosting of her, to take his name upon you. Francion replyed, I cannot suddenly resolve upon that; for it seems to me, that should I take upon my self the name of another person, it were to confesse that I had nothing commendable in my self at all.
Raymond hearing his resolution, said, that he would travell also into Italy, being weary of France, and of the perpetual troubles of the Court, but some occasions for certain days retaining him, he determined to take Dorini with him as an associate in his Journey.
The Journey being in this manner resolved upon, Francion immediatly gave charge to one of Raymonds Servants to carry back Collinet to Clerantes, and by his letter to acquaint him, that he was determined for a little while to solace himself in other Countries, according to those desires which Clerantes had often heard him to expresse. He did write also to his Mother to possesse her with the resolution he had taken.
Some who were with him demanded of him, if it were no grief unto him to be deprived of the Company of Lauretta? to which he made answer, that the prey was now at his own mercy, and that he had sported himself with her as much as possibly he desired, and therefore he must look after some new game. As they were in this discourse, they beheld from one of the Chamber windows an old man to enter into the Court of the Castle, being mounted on a lean mare, and unserviceable for that labour to which in the vigour of her youth she was accustomed. He who was mounted on her was cloathed in a black Cloak, which with a point was fastned about his Collar, he had an old sword by his side. This honourable personage was Valentine, who observing that his wife stayed so long in her pilgrimage, did not well know what to think of it, and had been in several places to look for her, until one who belonged unto Raymond had informed him that he had seen her in his Castle.
He no sooner entred into the Court, but he saw Lauretta, who sate in the portall of the Door with Teresia; Immediatly he alighted from his horse, but it was not without much difficulty and trouble to him; His wife perceiving him, took her Companion by the hand, and going up the stairs did lock her self up in one of the Chambers. He being overcome with fury, did pursue her to the bottom of the stairs, and espying in the way the effigies of a Lady made in wood, he began thus to vomit forth his choler against it. What a Devil dost thou mean? Is this the pilgrimage thou hast made? Bitch as thou art, I have been told of the good life which here thou leadest; I shall catch thee at home again, I shall; I will tye thee up then, and punish thee as thou deservest; Here thou hast the filthy fill of thy pleasures with men, I doe perswade my self that there is not a Horse-keeper in all this house, who hath not made it his businesse to have played at passage on the Belly. Hereafter, for all thy abundance now, I shall make thee starve for it, and thou shalt not receive of my self so much as thy ordinary pittance. Marry come up, Thou art the only [Page 17]cause that I am no more respected; I am every where called Fo [...]l and Coxcomb, and told I have not spirit enough to bridle thy appetites; To be short, I am altogether dishonoured by thee; O good God! what an injustice is it that the honour of a husband should depend upon that which is under the Apron of his wife, but thou shalt pay for that broken vessail of thine, I dare assure thee.
Raymond and others who heard him make such a noise, did approach unto him, and observing that Lauretta had wisely withdrawn her self, and that no answer at all was returned unto his cholerick complaints, they did assure him that she was not in the Castle, and that he was deluded by an apparition. Afterwards they prevailed so far upon him, that they brought him to the furthest part of the Garden, to make themselves more merry with him, and then drowned his melancholy in many glasses of Wine. You are to observe, that all the while he was the subject of their sport in the garden, and when he was drinking in the Cellar, he did put off neither his Cloak nor his Sword. He conceived he ought not to disarm himself, but was to retain a greater shew of state and gravity before the Nobility that was present. It was a most pleasant spectacle to behold him in this equipage, for he had put on his scarf in which he carried his Sword, as if it had been a Collar of SS. and had forgot to passe it under his left arm, insomuch that his Sword would be playing always before him, and did much disease him▪ He did nothing else but put by his Sword on the one side, and his Cloak on the other, which did as much incumber him.
Having ended his large draught, his spurs interfering and striking against one another, he stumbled at every step, and it was a hazzard that he was not beheld every moment to fall on the ground. It was the courtesie of Raymond to bring him back to the Castle, but he returned not with so much ease as he did set forward, because he had drunk too deep. When he came to the door he could goe no further, his Sword which did hang at random about his neck, did hit against both the posts of the Entry, so that he was stopped, as it had been with a Bar, sometimes he would draw backwards, and sometimes thrust forward with all the strength he had, but all that he could doe was but to make his sword to yield and bend a little; O, said he, I believe there is some Inchantment here, I cannot move one foot further. The Gentlemen who heard him, received an incomparable pleasure, and did let him alone, but his Sword at last falling off to one side, the passage was open for him, and he followed those that did go in before him; To excuse himself, he said unto them, Gentlemen, You see that I am no great Warrier, I mean no harm by carrying this cold Iron about me; when I came out of Doors my Maid did help me to put it on, she knew how to do it better than my self. These Spurs which you see, were in my Corn-loft quite covered with rust and chaff, instead of buckling them to my heels, I had fastned them to my toes, which seemed to me to be far more proper, although my Maid told me, It was not the fashion so to wear them; Why so? replyed I, When I give you or any one else a kick, Do I not spurn at you forward with my foot? They are Horses who do kick backward; For my own part I have no strength at all in my heel, Can I not spurr my horse better having my [...]eet armed rather than my heel? For all these Reasons, or what ever other I could allege, my Maid hath put them on in the same manner as you behold; if she hath done well in it, I refer my self to you: For the rest of my habiliments, I did put them on my self, as it pleased Fortune.
The honest Gaul having made this pleasant Discourse, was conducted into the Hall, where he was yet a little longer entertained; because that Francion being to give his Farewell to Lauretta, had in the mean time commanded the Coachman to harnesse six horses, and to bring them to the Caroach with all speed, to carry back Lauretta to her own house with Agatha, that her Husband might find her at home on his Return. Valentin having taken his leave [Page 18]of the Company, did take horse, and did not meet with the Caroach on the way; because either his Imployment, or the excesse of Wine he had taken, did steer him in another course. On his return he found his fair Wise in bed, who counterfeited her self to be sick. He having told her, That he had been abroad three days to enquire what was become of her, She assured him, that it was above two days since she returned; so that by this excuse she appeased his choler, and he verily believed that he did not see her at all in the Castle of Raymond.
All this while Francion made preparations for his departure, having testified the great grief he entertained, being for some time to be deprived of the Company of Raymond. On the next morning he took his leave of him very early, and departed with all his train, which by the assistance of his good Friend he had increased, by the addition of one Groom of his Chamber, three Lackeys, and a Horse-keeper.
When he came to the Innes wherein he was to lodge, he entertained himself with no other thought, but only with the contemplation of her who was the Cause of his voyage. Being oftentimes in the way, he would take her Picture out of his Pocket, and could not forbear to look upon it as he did ride. Every hour he rendred homage to it, and offered the sacrifice of an infinite number of sighs and tears. On the first day of his travel there arived no Adventure at all; but on the second there did fall out one which deserveth to be recorded.
About Mid-day he came into a Village where he determined to alight, and to refresh himself, to which purpose he made choice of the best Tavern, and whiles they were walking his Horses, and putting them into the Stable, he did go into the Kitchin himself, to enquire what there was ready to eat; he found the House sufficiently provided with all things that might satisfy hunger, but he could not find any one to give any answer to him; only he heard a great noise in the Chamber above the Kitchin, and to understand what the businesse was, he did immediatly go up the stairs. The Door being open, he beheld a Man upon the Bed, who was covered only with one sheet, and uttered himself in a thousand coutumelious words to a Woman who did not sit farr off upon a Coffer His Choler was so great, that at that instant he was rising up stark naked to beat his Wife with a staff which was hard by him. Francion, who did not understand if the occasion of his Rage were just, or not, did stop him, and caused him to return unto his Bed. Oh Mounsieur (said the Man unto him) Be pleased to assist me against my Enemies! I have a Wife worse than any Dragon, she is so wicked, that she dares to commit her whoredoms before my own eyes. Sir, (said the Wife) making a courtesy to Francion, Let us depart from this place I beseech you, with all the speed we can, I am possessed with so great a fear, that I dare not stay any longer. It is not my Husband that speaketh now, but an evil Spirit that is entred into his Body, and usurpeth there the place of his Soul, which is departed above 6 hours ago. Ah! (said the Husband) Was the like Villany ever known? She would make me to believe that I am dead, to the end that she might enjoy my Goods, and the Company of that Man, with whom she leads a wicked and a wanton life. At that instant there came out of the next Chamber a handsom young Fellow, and an antient Woman, who both of them very resolutely declared, That the Taverner was dead, and that they ought to see him buried. How now Sirrah, (said he) to the Young-man; Sirrah, you are as much dead as I am, Get you out of sight, I shall live long enough, I hope, to see you hang'd; Sirrah, Thou shalt be punished I dare assure thee; Thou hast committed a greater fault than if thou hadst attempted with a knife to cut my throat; for thou wouldst have me buried me alive: Moreover thou art an Adulterer, and hast polluted my Bed with yonder She wolf.
[Page 19]This Dispute seeming very strange to Francion, he desired to understand the Original and Ground of the Complaint, and causing them to hold their peace, who began to cry out and make a great noise, he desired the Taverner to give him a full account of the whole Story; whereupon he thus spake unto him.
Sir, It is now three years since I have been married to that She Devil whom you see, It had been farre better for me to have been put into a Sack, and thrown into the River; for ever since I have lived with her, I have not enjoyed one Minute of Rest. She will ordinarily make quarrels with me for things of no moment, and will scold so loud, that not long since being unwilling to to goe out of Doors, by reason of the great Rain that fell, I was constrained to stop my ears with black wool, and I know not well what Napkin I did wind about my head, to the end, that at the least I might not hear her, because I was resolved not to go forth. As soon as she perceived my Intention, she determined with her self that I should hear every word she spake, and throwing her self upon my Bed, she ceased not untill she had pull'd off my Biggin, and then putting her mouth to my ear she cried out so loud, that eight days afterwards I was quite deaf. But all this is nothing. Observe how brazen-fac'd she is! She saw me once speak to a young Maid of this Town, immediatly she gave a bad apprehension to it, and taking a knife in her hand, when she was going to Bed, she said, That by the grace of God she would geld me, to hinder me from going to any other but her self. I was at that time in a patient and a pleasant humor, and smiling, said unto her, Do nothing (Sweet-heart) in the first heat of your choler; the Time may come that you dearly will repent it. She made answer to me, Villain, Do you take no care for that, I will have nothing any more to do with you, I can have Men enough, and those that are far more lusty than your self. Tell me (Sir) If you did ever hear of the like Impudence? Neverthelesse I did forbear to strike her at that time; and I do verily believe, that if her Choler had not been appeased, I had suffered the disgrace to have been gelded by her. Her threatnings (which oftentimes she made unto me, to provide her self with a Sweet-heart) were put in Execution, She made choice of this young Fellow to serve her in a Corner. But, good God! Was there ever misery like to mine? My wife is the most precious Fool in the world, when other Lovers are accustomed to give something to their Sweet-hearts, this fellow is so beggarly, that my Wife makes many presents to him; to pay him for the pleasure which he receiveth of her, She gives him wherewith to feed him, and to cloath him; I often have observed my cloaths on his back, and if there be in my Kitchin any thing better than other, which I reserve for my Guests, this Gallant wil hang a nose after it; and I must allow him wages for stopping my Wifes Gap, I must pay him as if he were one of the Labourers, who comes hither, either by the day, or by the week, to perform some necessary imployment about my house; After I had harboured a suspition that he looked too familiarly on my wife, I indeavoured to make my felf sure of it; and counterfeiting that I was to travel many miles into the Country, I secretly returned at my back door, and understanding that they were both together in the next room, I privatly conveyed my self into the House of office that joyns unto it. I heard very well the greatest part of their discourse, which by little and little did render it self more amorous, and I must confesse did grievously displease me; I would most willingly have heard it all, to be more fully satisfied, but there arrived to me a great misfortune, for a Defluction which fell upon my Lungs did make me very rheumatick, and I coughed so extremely, as if I had swallowed a bag full of feathers, Howsoever so great was my desire to listen to them, that I knew not how to dispose of my self, but only to hold my Breath as long as possibly I could; At the last I concluded that my best course was to put my head down into the Privy to cough within the hole, that [Page 20]so I might not be perceived, which when accordingly I had done, I coughed above eight times from the bottom of my stomack, which did me much good, and I enforced my self to cough as much again, to bring forth my flegm all at once, for I was extremely flegmatick; And I must tell you by the way, that I took much pleasure in it, for my voice resounded in that subterranean place, and although my flegm did fall soft enough, yet my voice made an Eccho, which might be heard as plain as is the Eccho near the mountain a quarter of a league from this place; But (O unhappy accident) when I thought to have drawn my head out of the hole, It was impossible, I did thrust it in with all the force I had▪ and I had not the way to get it out, as I had to put it in, for my chin as a hook did hinder the coming forth of it, and I was as it were in the Pillory. Ha, if any one had then come in, he might have done me mischief enough, before I had been able to have defended my self. It would be a good invention in such a place to put resisting malefactors, when they are to indure the whip. I did use all the force I had, but instead of drawing forth my head, my indeavours were so great, that I plucked the seat out of its place, for the bord was old and half broken before. In this manner I became half Master of my liberty, and was no longer constrained to be obliged unto one place; neverthelesse I carryed my prison about with me; I endeavoured with my hands to pluck the plank from my neck, but I was not able to effect it, and I could not but laugh to see my self thus attired in the new fashion, with a Spanish Ruff about my Neck. Howsoever I was afraid, that if my Wife had found me in this condition, she would have made some sport with me. Seeing therefore that I could not deliver my self, my desire was as privatly as I could to have recourse unto my old Companion the Sawyer, who lived at the upper end of our street, to request him to saw it off; but it so fortuned, that in the Street I met with many, both young and old, who did run after me as after a Fool, and would not forsake me until I came to the place whither I was to go. There it was that I was delivered of my unsavoury yoak, but it was noysed over all the Country, for the Sawyer my Companion could not hold his peace, and the Boys in the street doe yet laugh at me wheresoever I goe; But that which most afflicted me, was, that I did not thoroughly understand the end of the discourse of the young Ribauld in my house, and I could not know whether he had made me a Cuckold or no. But not long afterwards I was too sensibly assured of it, for returning from the fields, I found him with his unsatisfied Companion in the act of their uncleanesse. God knows, what a broken heart I had, I stayed my Ruffian as he was going forth, and said unto him, Tell me thou Villain, what wert thou a doing within? Have a care that I take thee so no more, for if I doe, I will mince thee into lesse pieces than meat is for the Pye. I know well enough that thou camest to see my Wife; Dost thou think that thou canst content her better than my self? Well, well, let us make tryal upon this seat who is better provided by Nature to please a Woman, thou or my self; Speaking those words, I produced, and shewed him what were the gifts of Nature which I had, but he durst not doe the like, knowing that the right was not on his side. He departed from my house much ashamed, neverthelesse, he hath since oftentimes returned, and not so much in private, but I have always notice of it. One day I found him lying with my wife in the same Bed which here you see. I only contented my self to chide him for it, and did let him goe away safe and sound. Oh what a grief it is unto me when I doe think of it; I ought to have flung his Hat out of the Window, or have torn his doublet from his back; But I was not my self at the sight of that Accident.
All these things did so afflict me, that I did swear to that Whore, that undoubtedly within the compasse of a year, I should kill my self to be delivered of those torments which she caused me to endure, yet for all that, she became every day more wicked than other, desiring nothing more than to see me carried [Page 21]forth with my heels formost. We have never quarrelled since; but she hath said unto me, Robin, What do you make account to do? Why dost thou not perform thy Oath, wretched Fool, which thou hast taken? Why dost thou not die? The Vines will flourish never the lesse for thy absence; Thou only servest to consume the fruits of the Earth.
She began lately more to respect me than she hath been accustomed to do, to make a trial (as it is to be presumed) if I would be so very a Fool as to make my self away for her; I knew her Intention, and to prove how great was the affection she did bear unto me, and what she would doe and say, if I were out of the world, I did counterfeit my self to be dead.
In this contrivement a Cosin of mine did much assist me, at whose House I was yesterday very late in the Evening, who came unto my Wife to acquaint her, that having drank something, He knew not what, that was mingled in a glasse with White wine, I did throw my self upon the Bed, where I was drawing to an end. This News did not soften her heart at all; She made answer, That she had so great a desire to sleep, that she could not rise to come unto me without the most apparent danger in the world. Finding that, we attended till this Morning to put an end unto our Enterprize; He brought me hither, having one of his Servants to assist him, and put me upon this Bed, where ever since I have lain like a dead Man; and addressing himself to my Wife, he said unto her, Behold your dead Husband! I am sorry that you were not present when he surrendred his Soul to God, you might then have known his last Will, and seen with what diligence I have assisted him. She made answer in groans unto him, O God! Is my good Man dead? I shall never find another that will equal him in the goodnesse of his Disposition; Tell me what he said unto you being near unto his end; Keep not one word from me, it will serve for a great consolation to me. He replyed, You do much deceive your self, it will serve unto you for Remorse of Conscience all you life, if you have a relenting Soul, and carefull of its own Salvation. My Cosin assured me, that you were the Cause of his Death, and that he came to my house as to a Refuge, to protect him from the afflictions which he indured in your Company. Alas! (said she) How unhappy am I? What discourtesies have I done him, that he died with so much rancor against me? He will not then pray to God for me in the other world? Saint Mary! Our Neighbors can all witnesse the good Entertainment that he always hath received from me; It is above a month ago since the least noise was heard in our house. Son of David! I was so ready to obey all his Commandments, that but yesterday I though I should have broke my neck in running down the stairs to fetch his Wine for him; Alas poor Man! He never drank since in my Company, and never now shall drink in it again.
My Cosin gave her leave to make an end of her dolefull Complaints, and departed from her, to understand whether her griefs were counterfeit or not; He was no sooner gone, but she sent for that Woman whom you see, who is no better than her self, and for her Adulterer also; She said unto them, Companions, My Husband is dead, Have not I a good Cause to weep? The old Woman replyed unto her, Are you a Fool? Do you forget the Wishes that so often you have made? She made answer, No my good Friend; But what will the Neighbours say, if I shall not weep? And since it is the Custom to weep, let me alone, I will have tears in abundance, although I have occasion enough to laugh, I will have Onions always in my Handkerchief, and wipe my eyes with them; Speaking those words, her tears ceased, Her eyes have learn'd the trick to make her tears to run, and cease when she pleaseth. She afterwards proceeded in her Discourse, Upon my Faith he hath done well to die, and I wondred what he meant so long to deferr it, I therefore resolved with my [Page 22]self to assist him in it; for having long ago made so many deep protestations to me, to dislodge from this world, I conceived with my self, that if he tarried any longer in it, he must needs be damn'd for not keeping his word, if he should have upright Judges: Am I not now a happy Woman? all that is in this House is mine. He hath given me it all, at the Contract of his Marriage. I have now gained by St. John, for the evil life which I did lead with him. All the Night long he lay be me as unmovable as a Block. He had one Member of his Body, which long ago, for ought that I do know, was as intirely dead, as if it had been touched with Thunder. Her Companion replyed unto her, Comfort your self then, Behold where your Friend is! who will give you the best Content in the world. Hereupon, because all the Curtains about the Bed were drawn, that I could not be discovered, I lifted up my head a little, and peeping through a little place where the Curtains lay open at the foot of the Bed, I beheld this gallant, imbracing, and kissing my Wife. The pains which I took to raise my head, were such, that it gave an unexpected passage to a furious wind which proceeded from me, and did much amaze them all. O Lord! (said my Wife) He is not dead, Hark how he farteth? You will be a Fool still (said her Companion) Do you think that dead Bodies do not break wind? Why, things that have no life at all do fart. Be you where you will, you shall in every place hear something or other that will make such a noise, be it never so little. As for him, It may be that some of his Eones made a crack at the dis-joynting of them: or rather, it was some wind which remained yet in his Body, and finding not the passage open, could not but with violence break forth. Besides, we ought to believe, that his Body (being heavy as it is) did cause the Bed to crack, which is made but of the thinnest wood. Ah Villain! (said my Wife) It was all his delight to break wind backward when he was alive, and now he doth practise it being dead. He had the wind at Command, and high or low, would make it so to blow at his pleasure, that I wonder the State did not send for him, to make him their Mariner. He would oftentimes lay wagers to let such a number of Farts at once, which should all come ratling from him like a peal of Ordnance, and in two or three hundred at a clap the would not misse you one of his number. It was his ordinary sport amongst his Companions, and he did get a great deal of money by it; But (my good Friend) that we may be sure to be troubled with him no more, It were better for us to bury him too soon, then too late; Let us therefore put our hands to the work, and give me a needle and thred.
Having spoke those words, she did draw the Curtain, and as she stooped to look upon me, (it being high time for me to act out my part, having known the small Esteem she had of me) I lifted up my Arm▪ and applyed my hand fast unto her cheek, which did put her into an excesse of fear. I said unto her, I am not yet dead, you Slut, and (if it shall please God) I one day shall lay thee in the Earth; and since, without just Cause, thou so maliciously dost desire that I should depart out of this world, Heaven, the more to enrage and punish thee, will permit that I shall continue here a long time. Then they all three fell upon me, and being unwilling to believe that I was alive, because they desired I were dead, they did their best indeavour to shrowd me, and bury me in this Linnen sheet. I made resistance as long as possibly I could, crying out Help, Help, Murder, Murder, and telling them that I was not dead. I do believe they had a desire to have strangled me, and no doubt they had put it in Execution, if out of your goodnesse you had not come to my succour, being (as I believe) invited to it by my Cries. Now Sir, I do beseech you, that you will vouchsafe to assist me, having understood the Justice of my Cause. Procure that they persecute me no more, as they did before your Comming, and be pleased to be a Protector of the miserable.
When he had thus ended his Speech, Francion, who understood the Justice [Page 23]of his cause, desired to make peace amongst them, and the young Ruffian, and the old woman who accompanied him, departed, fearing they should be apprehended. The woman of the house perceiving that the Gentleman desired to dine there, did goe down into the Kitchin, confused, and ashamed, to make preparations for his Dinner. All that time her Husband was putting on his Cloathes, and kept close to Francion, with whom he discoursed on diverse Subjects. After dinner, Francion caused his wife to appear, and said unto them both, that they must both of them before him, make a long, and a durable friendship. The Husband, who desired nothing but Love and Honesty, did easily consent unto it, and the Wife did the same, being constrayned by necessity. I will then, said Francion, that Robin immediatly doe shew me, if he be not sufficiently valiant of himself to give his wife content, without making her to run to the Court for help.
Fair Ladies, you that without blushing cannot endure to hear those things spoken of which best of all you do love, I know well enough, that if you cast your eyes on this passage, and on many other places of this Book, you will presently lay it by, and peradventure will hate me, or at least will so dissemble to doe, to shew your selves chast and retired; Neverthelesse I love the truth so much, that for all the coynesse of your humour, I will conceal nothing, especially of that, which doth profit more by being divulged, than by having it buried in silence.
Robin, after some unwillingnesse, did accord to the desire of Francion, being very glad to have the eyes of so great a personage to be the unreproachable Witnesses of the proofs of his valour, but his Wife seemed to be much ashamed, and affirmed, that she had rather die than endure that such a thing should be seen before the eyes of the world. And why so, said Francion, Doe not all men know that which you two doe being both together? Doe you desire to conceal it? To what purpose will that serve you? When I have seen you to have done it, were I the greatest babler in the world, all that I could say would be but that I have seen you to have done it. And what news would that be? I may say as much now, for it is but the Truth. Moreover, doe you think I am not as able to judge of this businesse as well as the Chirurgians? and that I cannot make as true a judgement as they, whereby you shall not be troubled to run to the Spiritual Court, where it will cost you as much mony as attendance? For all these reasons, the Hostesse remained in her first obstinate Resolution, and Francion pursuing his intentions, told her, that if she would not doe it, he would command all his servants, to hold her by her Arms, until Robin had accomplished his Desire; And without any more adoe he took her himself, and threw her on the Bed, and commanded Robin to begin what he had to doe; who, after that the Cavallier had commanded his servants to depart, and stayed alone himself in the Chamber, did shew himself ready to obey him. But it is said, that whenever his Servants were gone, Francion caused him to wave the incounter, for he would first see if he were well provided with all things that were necessary for him. Moreover, the Detractors doe affirm, that he made them afterwards to begin the fight again, and did furnish them with new precepts of Love; you may believe which you please. It may suffice to understand, that he judged they had no cause to be discontented at one another, without making any mention unto you, either of erection or intromission, or ejaculation, which are words that rellish more of the Court of the Church, than of the Court at the Louvre. The Hostesse had a Sister to marry, and some there were that did goe singing up and down the village, That she must take a Husband upon proof, because that her Sister was deceived. But no great heed ought to be taken to that slander.
Behold this is all that we have to speak like a Libertine in this Book; Are you ashamed to look upon it Gentlemen and Ladies who are the Readers? [Page 24]The stories which are here to be read, are not so guilty that they were made on purpose to prompt you unto Vice; Our design is, to make you expressely to hate it, by setting before your eyes the bad successe of enormous enterprises. Whatsoever it be, it may easily be discerned that it was not made for the meditation of religious Votaresses, but to instruct those how to live that are in the world, where every day they are inforced to understand many other things of this Nature; for what offences be there that are not dayly brought to the knowledge of the Courts of Justice, and how can it be remedied, but that they will administer a Subject of discourse in all Companies?
But if my excuses are of no validity, and you can find nothing in this Book to please you, Readers, whosoever you are, doe not read it the second time, I did not make it for yours, but for my own particular pleasure. Doe not buy it, if you have no mind to it, there is no man will inforce you to it. But if you have it, and that altogether it doth displease you, cast it into the fire, and if there be but one part only which is disagreeable to you, either tear it, or blot it out, and make your profit of the rest. But if some words only be against your heart, I give you the fair liberty to insert others which you shall better approve. I believe there are very few Authors who will say as much, and lesse that will grant it, but they are all too stubborn, and doe tye themselves to impertinent vanities; For my part, I will take my own Swing, and delight my self, without reflecting on any other. Do you afterwards, if you can, follow my Counsels, and allow of my intentions. But let us now pursue our more agreeable discourse.
After that Francion had made his Host and his Hostesse perfect friends, he came down, being followed by them to have the reckoning paid, which was no sooner cast up, but it was immediatly discharged. Moreover he gave unto them three Pistols of gold, to invite them to remember him when he was gone, and in the remembrance of him to appease all their old differences, and he promised them that he would give them a greater Donation, if he were advertised that they continued in the obligation of their love; But if he heard to the contrary, he threatned rigorously to punish their new dissentions. It is said, that his Remonstrances were of great efficacy, and that ever since they lived in peace, and have had Children.
A certain man who came to dine at the Tavern, observing the bounty and great gifts of Francion, did bear a great respect unto him, and seeing him to take horse, did take horse also, and understanding that he travelled the same way, he did desire to accompany him. The first discourse with him, was, the praising of his Liberality, from which he fell to the dispraise of Avarice, of which he told him he could furnish him with a most remarkable example, of a Gentleman who lived in a Village, where the next night they were to lodge, He is the most wretched man, said he, that the Earth did ever bear; his Tenants are most unhappy to have such a Landlord, he doth exact upon them in a thousand ways. The last year he made them believe, that he had a great desire to goe to the war for the service of the King, and that his poor Tenants must be at the charge to give him two light Horses, neverthelesse he did not goe at all, but only made a journey to the Court, where he stayed about a moneth.
He sent afterwards to them a company of the Gen-darmes, which belonged to one of his friends, to satisfie his malicious Avarice, who had plundered them to some purpose, but that reflecting on his own profit, he thought it was more discretion for him to pillage them himself, and he was sorry that by his dayly extorsion, he had made them so poor, that they could contibute no more unto him. You will hardly believe how he hath caused them to be puninished, both in their bodies and their purses, when they have gathered up but some small sticks which they have found about his woods. When he hireth d [...]y-labourers, [Page 25]he at his pleasure putteth back the clock, and makes them to work two hours longer than they are accustomed to labour in other places. He keepeth all his Servants in the most penurious way that possibly can be imagined; When he putteth Pease, or Lentils into the Pot to be boyled, he doth count them one by one, and hath learned Geometry, on purpose that his Compasse may serve him to measure the bread, to know how much they have eaten. Never any man could make his boast that he hath Feasted with him. When his friends (if he hath any) doe come in, and enter at the fore-door of his house to see him, he, for fear to entertain them, doth go out at the Back-door, and takes his walk in unfrequented places, where it is impossible to find him. In his house there is no difference at all in their Diet; and for his Grooms he taketh none but those who are of a melancholick, or a Flegmatick complexion, because that those who are of a cholerick humor are commonly too great Eaters. One time he entertained a Cook, but he soon afterwards desired leave to be gone, professing to him, That if he stayed any longer in his house, he should forget his Trade.
This Covetous wretch, observing his Children to grow up, did one day complain of it, contrary to all other men, who are very glad to see their Children to increase in years, hoping thereby to receive a sudden and absolute contentment, by seeing them either well married, or to be indued with some eminent quality or signal virtue, for their advancement. His reason was, That for himself, he never makes himself ready, but on Sundays only, and on Holydays, when he goes to shew himself in his Parish Church; and he then he puts on a Linsywoolsy frock upon his Cloaths when ever he comes home, and he will not adventure to stir from his feat on that day, so great a fear he hath to indamage his apparel by wearing. It is reported, that the best habiliments he hath, are those of his great Grandfathers, by which he is somtimes pleased to be known, and which most carefully he preserveth; intending to bequeath and intayl them with his Benediction to his Posterity. On working-dayes he is covered altogether with raggs.
As I remember (said Francion) you called this person, Gentleman; Do you believe, in good earnest, that he deserves that title, living a life so fordid? One of the most principal Ornaments of Nobility, is Liberality.
Sir (said he who did accompany him) I must acknowledge that I have failed in calling him Gentleman, although he hath many Lordships; for by descent he is no Gentleman at all: His Father was one of the greatest Usurers in France, and made it all his businesse to give pernicious advice to others, to heap up money, and to sow dissention. Neverthelesse his Son, and his Daughter, who are one of them at the Age of Twenty, and the other of Eighteen, do nothing partake at all of the humors of his race; They are both of them indued with generaous Souls, It is pity that they have a Father who will do nothing to advance them. His Daughter is very beautifull, and wants for no attractions to procure her Sweet-hearts; but what is she the better for it? A man can never find the opportunity to court her, she is always at her Mothers elbow; a woman as miserable as her Husband, who will not permit her to go into any Company, for fear it will cost him too much to put her into good habiliments, Nay, which is more, Signior Buisson, who is her Father, is so fearfull to disburse his money, that he will not hear of any Husband for her. His Son is at this present a Prisoner, partly by his own will, and partly by force; for he desireth not to be seen abroad, and accompany other Gentlemen of his rank, having neither apparel to grace, nor train to attend, or silver to assist him, either at play or at revellings. Not long since he was even with his Father, who being faln sick, and not able to travel to the City to pay a round sum of Silver which he owed to a Merchant, he was constrained, to his great grief, to commit the [Page 26]charge thereof unto his Son; for he was so miserable, that he would hardly trust himself with his own Goods. His Son being tempted with that profitable metal, which he seldom carried about him, did determine to keep it for himself; And instead of carrying it where he was commanded, he did bury it in the middle of a Field, and having sold his Horse and Cloak, he returned in a most melancholly disguise unto his Father, and acquainted him, That he had been assaulted by Thieves, who had dismounted him, and not only deprived him of his Horse, but had taken from him by force his Money, and his Cloak. You may imagin in what a passion old Buisson was, he knew not on whom to exercise his Revenge; at the last he imputed all the fault unto his Son, he call'd him Knave, and did beat him soundly, because he made no more hast out of doors, and did not keep the ordinary High-way, where he might possibly have found one honest Traveller or other, who would have relieved him. He gave a charge to the Provost of the Marshalseys to make enquiry after the persons who did steal the money. One of the Officers knowing the colour of the hair, and the height of the Horse, was so diligent, that at last he found him in an adjacent Village, as with a halter he was led forth from the Stable unto water. On his Return, he did go to the dwelling-house to which the Stable did belong, and demanded of the Master, Who it was that sold that Horse unto him? He made answer, he was a young Man, but his Name and Quality he could not tell; but if it were his chance to see him, he should know him again very well. By ill fortune, young Buisson at that time passed by, and the Master of the House said immediatly to the Officer, Look, yonder he is without all doubt, lay hands on him. The Officer replyed, Take heed you deceive not your self; for he who goes there, is the Son of that Man who hath lost the Horse. The other replyed, It is most assuredly the same young Man who sold the Horse to me. The Officer being contented with this assurance, returned to the old Signior, who confronted his Son with it: his Son was immediately convinced, and fearing the fury of his Father, did secretly depart out of the Castle, belike, to find out his buried money, by the help of which he hath conveyed himself away so far, that he hath never since been seen. At the last he will be inforced to come back again, although it be for nothing else but to claim his share in the Inheritance; knowing that the losse of this money will be the only way to break his Fathers heart. That which cometh by the Musick of the Cornet, returneth back at the Sound of the Trumpet. Goods ill got, will infallibly be one day ill expended: When the young Man hath them once in his possession, we need not ask what Riot he will make.
By this may be understood, what pleasure men take to cramm their Purses with Crowns, which they shall be then inforced to leave, when they think least of it. For my self, I know not which of them to blame most, either the Father, or the Son: Both of them have failed in their duty, but I cannot deny but that all the world may see, that the fault first of all did proceed from the Father, who by his miserablenesse hath, in a manner, provoked his Son to take that from him by force, which he would not give him of good will. Without doubt God is pleased that the Son, who proceeded from his own bowels, should be his scourge, to punish him for his avarice. That may well be (said Francion) and I believe that Heaven hath sent me also upon earth to punish the same sin: I protest unto you, I will not spare him at all, or my Spirit shall be barren in Invention. Tell me only, If you have any Interest in him? Yes Sir, replyed the other; for I live in a Farm which is but a League from his Castle, and have learned all his Genealogy and manner of life of a certain Boy who served him, who comes oftentimes to my house. Give me then an Account of it (said Francion) without omitting any thing; whereupon he who did accompany him, did declare whatsoever he had heard of him; I will measure him then (said Francion) by the length of his own Ell, That will do it. Is he not extremely [Page 27]ambitious, to fill up the number of all his other Vices? Is he not easie to be perswaded, that he is one of the most noble, and most apparent of all that Province? You hit the nail on the head, replyed the other; If you had eaten a whole bushel of Salt with him, you could not have known him better. It is the height and force of all his desire to be esteemed a Gentleman, and oftentimes he hath bastinadoed some, who have said he was no Gentleman, and that he ought to come behind them. So, so, said Francion, I will goe to him howsoever, I will make him as noble as my self, whether he will, or not, for I know that otherwise at the beginning he will not approve of that which I shall perform, to arrive to my intent.
As they were in this discourse, they approached unto a little Wood, near unto which they heard a noise, as if some men were offering violence to one another. Our Adventurer who would know all things, and punish all the forfeits which he saw committed, did put spurs to his horse, being followed by his people, he perceived four sturdy fellows holding a young Gentleman by his Collar, having first dismounted him. Although he made his approaches near unto them, yet they would not abandon him, and because the young Gentleman would not goe with them, as they would have him, they dragged him along with all their force. You Villains, what will you doe to that gallant young man, said Francion? One of them made answer, It doth not belong to you at all, let it suffice you to understand that our proceedings are approved by Justice; Justice, said Francion, What vertuous Lady is that whom you call Justice, who causeth honest men to be so rudely intreated? Let the Gentleman go, or I professe unto you you shall dearly repent it. Sir, said another of them, you will give us leave to execute our charge, we are the Kings Officers, we are carrying this Man to prison for his debts. And is it only for that? said Francion, I swear unto you, he shall not goe. Having spoke those words, he drew his Sword, and all those who were with him did the like, and did charge upon the Serjeants with so much resolution, that they inforced them to shew their heels to their Enemies. The Neighbour of old Buisson approaching, said unto Francion, Sir, This Gentleman whom you have rescued, is young Buisson. In a good hour, said Francion, I am glad at my heart that I have thus met with him. On that the young Gentleman did approach unto him, to thank him, with such words as expressed the generosity of his Spirit, which invited Francion to use him with all humanity of respect. He then demanded of him, if it were for debt that they would have carried him to prisor? Buisson made answer, yes, and that his Father allowing him no means, he was inforced to borrow some moneys of the Usurer, who, having need of it, did thus rudely pursue him to surrender it. In this entertainment of discourse they arrived at the Town where they intended to sup and lodge that night. There were two men drinking in the Inn as they entred into the Court, one of them had a Nose as red as a Lobster, who espying young Buisson, made a sign to his Comrade; After that they did both fall to their cups harder than before, having some slices of a Gammon of Bacon brought unto them, the more to excite their thirst. Here (said one of them) holding the glasse in his hand, Keeper of the Jayl of my Stomach, Make ready the Writ for this valiant Champion whom I am going to put into the hole. See yet, said he, another glasse of wine, which hath chosen to take its lodging in the ward of my Belly, and speaking those words he drank it off. Companion (replyed the other) having first drank a glasse of wine, I give you the assignation, before the throne of the Deity of Bacchus, to inform me for what cause you doe not drink in time and place? I will not make appearance, said the other, and if you shall levy upon the default, whereby I shall be constrained to pay the expence, and be condemned afterwards for contumacy, I will appeal from you, as from an incompetent Iudge, and demand to be brought before my Iudge natural, and domiciliar, as in an Action purely [Page 28]personal. It is no matter for the apparence, said the first, I will have a Deed signed and delivered by the Drawer within, by which it shall be certified that I have drunk more than thou hast. See here a Pint pot, said the other, which seems to me not to be compared to this which is the Original, and hath the mark of the City on it, It is a great deal too little, and the Wine is not good, I will obtain therefore Letters Patents sealed with the great Seal to relieve my self, because I have consented to give six Souses for that which is worth but four. But to the purpose my Camerade, Thou eatest up all the bread which I doe cut. I will form a Complaint for this abuse, and cause thee to appeal in a Case of Seisin, and Trespasse.
They had much other discourse to this purpose, which Francion understood, and did swear he did conceive them to be Serjeants, not only by reason of their Countenance, but by the terms of practice which at every word incongruosly enough proceeded from them, and moreover he suspected, that they were in the number of those who would have dragged Du Buisson unto prison. To prove if it were true, he left him aloue in the next room, and did goe out of the gate himself with all his train, pretending that he had a great desire to see some of the singularities in the City. Immediatly the Serjeants, who had all this while a design to carry Buisson to prison, did goe to look him out, and having shewed him their Authority, they did begin to exercise their office: but Francion and his people immediatly returning, did hinder them from proceeding any further; and having shut the gate of the Inn upon them, he told them that they were at his mercy, and that were it not for him they had both been killed.
These poor Gigots of Iustice cryed for mercy to Francion, and Buisson, and assured them that they would not have undertaken it, but that they were commanded to it. You are a couple of Fools, said Francion, who doe not understand your own Trade, I will teach it you. Will any Serjeant that hath discretion with him use such words of Art as you have done before the friends of him whom you desire to arrest? Doe you not consider that it is more than sufficient to discover who you are? It was for this reason only that you failed in your enterprise on this gallant Gentleman, for which I am very glad; But go too, tell me at my request, whose Prisoner should he be? Sir, said one of them, he should be prisoner to such a Merchant of this City. I know him very well, said Buisson, he is one of the most deceitfull dealers that is in it. He sold unto me bad stuffs at a very high price, and helped me himself to find out a Man who would buy them of me at a low rate with his own money, so that his ware returned again to his own shop. For my self I did not care, because I had got some silver, of which I was in need, and never minded the danger to come. He was always importunate with me to come unto his shop, and assured me I should have what stuffs I would, trusting to the great riches of my Father. Francion having whispered Buisson in the ear, commanded one of the Drawers to goe to the Merchants house, and acquaint him on the behalf of the Serjeants, that the young Gentleman who was indebted to him was there ready to pay him, and that he should come with all the speed he could. The Merchant being come, Supper was served in, and the payment being deferred till after Supper, the Merchant was placed amongst the Serjeants to eat with them. He and his Camerades did drink so deeply, that the fumes did begin to ascend into their brains. Francion did give unto one of his Lackeys a certain powder that he had taken with him amongst his other curiosities, which being mingled in the wine they drank of, did render them so stupid, that they seemed to have rather the Souls of brute beasts than of men. There was no longer any reason in their words, and one might doe with them what he pleased; for they were as insensible Creatures. Francion seeing them in that condition, did examine their pockets, and took from them the Bills [Page 29]and Bonds which the Merchant had brought, and the Writs and Capiasses of the Serjeants, and burn'd them all before Buisson, who gave him a thousand thanks for the favours he received.
Francion afterwards called for the Vintner, and complained to him that he had sent up Wine so heavily dashed, that those poor men of the City who were not so much accustomed to drink as those of his Retinue, were extremely intoxicated, although they had not drunk so much as his Servants had done. The Vintner replyed, These gallants, Sir, at least the two Serjeants whom there you see, were more than half drunk before they came to Supper to your Table. Did you not see them carousing together as you came into the Inne? I will send unto their Wives to fetch them home. For this Man (pointing to the Merchant) I will take the pains, said he, to lead him home my self.
Having spoke those words, he commanded one of his Servants to look out the Serjeants wives, who gave them a thousand evil words, as they did lead them home, and that which did incense them, was, that they could not get one word of sense from them. When the Merchant was come to his own house, his Wife demanding of him if he had received the money which was due unto him? He being not so stupified as the other, had the understanding to make answer to her, That she had a great desire to be brave; and taking a good Cudgel, he did fall upon her, as if the Devil had been in him; Neverthelesse he had not the least consideration, whether he had received the money or not, and perceived not the stealing away of his Papers.
The next Morning, understanding the losse of them, he did run in a great rage unto the Tavern; but the guests were gone very early in the Morning, wisely foreseeing what was like to ensue: so that the Merchant learned to his own Cost, not to cozen young Gentlemen any more, nor trust them with commodities to be exchanged into ready mony, and imployed in unprofitable expences. Francion neverthelesse advised the young Man to give him something when he was able to spare it, accordingly as his Conscience should direct him.
When he was on the way, he asked him to what place he had a desire to go. Not that way as you steer your course, replyed the young Man; because that you are travelling towards my Fathers Castle, before whom I dare not present my self. I have taken some money from him, which I will imploy to the best advantage I can, and I am now going to find out a Lord in this Country, who being my near Kinsman, will freely entertain me in his House. Well, said Francion, because you are disposed to ramble, find out the means to come to Rome, where some moneths hence undoubtedly you will find me, and you may there passe away your time better, than in any other place of the world; Your humor pleaseth me so much, that I desire to enjoy your Company longer. Having spoke those words, he friendly imbraced him, and left him to his own liberty to take which way he pleased.
He who did speak unto him of old Buisson, was yet in his Company, and did not forsake him, till he had brought him within sight of the Castle: Francion taking his leave of him, assured him that within few days he should receive the News of what he had done, and so he departed; putting the best face he could on his well-grounded Resolution, and commanded the Groom of his Chamber to take out of his Sumpter the richest Cloak he had, because he had a desire to passe for some great Signior.
We shall in the next Book see what War he doth make with Avarice, which is one of the most enormous Vices in the world; and in that we may understand that this Comical History containeth in it many things Satyrical, to render it the more profitable; for it is not sufficient to lay forth Vices in all their colours to the eye, unlesse we shall undertake also effectually to reprove them.
THE NINTH BOOK OF THE COMICAL HISTORY OF FRANCION.
THis brave Cavallier whose Adventures we have traced, did at last arrive at the gates of the Castle of the Covetous Signior; he would have sent in one of his Servants before hand as a Harbinger, to advertise him of his Comming, were it not for fear that he would have stollen away, that he might he not see him. He came into the Hall, where he found the venerable personage sitting, and reading in a Book of Husbandry, to discover that which he might yet put in practise to increase the profit of his Lands; Monsieur, said Francion to him, the extreme desire I have to see you, and to witness unto you how affectionate I am to do you Service, hath constrained me to leave the way which my affairs obliged me to keep, boldly to make my approach to your Castle. Signior Buisson replyed, I beseech you, Sir, to tell me who you are, for I know you not? I know you as well as my self, said Francion, your Renown is spread in all places; For my self, I am called Francion, Marquis de la Parte; I am nearly allied to you, I will tell you by what extraction; thereupon he ravell'd out the whole Genealogy, following that which was described to him: and although another might observe the falsities therein, the old Signior did perswade himself it was true, so over-joyd he was, that a Marquis who had so honourable a train, did call him Cosin of his own motion, hoping it would be sufficient to prove his Nobility against all contradiction. Having by his language testified unto Francion, what honour and contentment this acknowledgement did bring unto him, the first Courtesy which he used, was to say unto him, I believe you were never in this Country before, nor any of your Secvants, and therefore they cannot tell where good Lodgings may be had for them, and Stables for your Horses, I will direct them to a good Tavern, to which they and their Horses may retire themselves; my Man shall go along with them to conduct them. Francion observing that Du Buisson had a desire to show him a proof of his ordinary miserablenesse, resolved not to give way unto it, and said unto him, Cosin, I have always occasion for my Servants, and desire that they may not be removed from me; And as for my horses, I am loath they should be left in an Inne, where none of my Servants are present to have a Care of them; Besides, I dare assure you they are so weary, that they are hardly able to go so farr.
Thus Francion did defend himself at the first Incounter. Buisson perceiving that he could not deny him, did immediatly command that Supper should be [Page 2]served in, which was only a Shoulder of Mutton, with some Sallets, and said unto Francion, Sir, You must be contented with a very poor Supper, It is no more than what I have ordinarily for my self; I had no knowledge of your Comming (as I ought to have) to provide your better chear, and which is worse, my Wife is sick in Bed, and there is not any one within to attend the Kitchin, and to put their helping hand to the Work. Make not so much hast (said Francion) we will lose nothing for want of attendance, I will give you all the leisure that can be desired to make ready what you please, and if you have any Viands that are more delicate than other, I pray serve them in, for on such only I am accustomed to feed. I observed your store of Fowl as I passed by them, I have not seen any place in France that is better provided; if I did not know that you were extraordinarily furnished with all things, I would not be so importunate with you to content my appetite: And now I do better remember it, A man of this Country whom I met with in the way, told me, that there is one in this Town who goes every day a hunting, and sells what he takes to those who will buy it: You may do well, Cosin, to send unto him for some Venison and Partridges. The Covetous old Man was constrained to do those things to which Francion did invite him, promising to himself, that he should be only for that evening at that excessive charge, and that his Guest on the next Morning would pursue his intended Journy. But he was amazed to see himself so over-run beyond his account; Francion observing it, said unto him, My dear Cosin, Do not so much torment your Spirit, as it appears to me you do; It may be that I cannot this Night be entertained according to your desire; All the dayes that I stay with you, we will make every day better chear than other. You shall have more opportunity to provide your self with all the delicates that can be had. I love your conversation so well, that it will be a great grief unto me to depart from your house. How! (said Buisson to himself) Must I be so long enforced to keep this Man here, with all his train? Ah, Here is Thrift and Providence indeed! Doth he hope that I shall yet make him better chear? How is it possible? Hath he a desire to undo me? One of his Servants who hath imployed himself in my Kitchin, hath demanded so much Spice, and Butter, and other Ingredients to season the Viands, that in one Supper all my provisions are made use of.
In this apprehension he spake unto Francion, and advised him, that on the next Morning as soon as possibly he could he would proceed in his Journy; beca [...]se the Time was not to be he lost, since the weather was fair, and well-disposed; and if he should stay another week, there would fall out many Inconveniences, by reason of the great rains to come, for, he said, he followed the Predictions in the Almanack of the Curate of Milmonts, who lyed not. My dear Cosin, said Francion, If the next week there be such bad weather, I will not depart, but will stay till the next week following. But Cosin, replyed Buisson, There will be also after that week fifteen days of most tempestuous weather. Well then, said Francion, I must have patience till the whole month be over; But one word more, dear Cosin, When I go away you must lend me four Horses, as well to draw a little Waggon, which to morrow I will cause to be made here, to put my Carriages in it, which is too heavy for my Sumpter-horse, as also to ease my Lackeys, who are already almost weary with travelling on foot. You shall also do me the favour to lend me three or four hundred Liuvres, of which I have great need; for when I set forth from my own House, I did not think to have travelled so far, and therefore took not so much money with me as was convenient.
These words did so prick the heart of Buisson, as if they had been the points of so many Swords. As often as Francion did propound any thing unto him, he would turn himself towards one of the most faithfull of all his Grooms, and would say unto him, Guerin, Guerin, Surely this Man is a Familiar. Supper [Page 3]being ended, he conducted Francion to his Chamber, and provided good Beds for all his Servants; afterwards he did go to visit his Wife, whom he would not let Francion see, because he pretended she had been a long time asleep. Finding her awake, he declared to her the new Kinted he had found, and how dear it had cost him. Ah! (my Love) said he, pursuing his Discourse, I know not what a Devil this Marquess is; but if he be a man, he is the boldest that ever I saw; Why he is more familiar with me, than if he were my own Brother, and through all his life had made it all his businesse to frequent my Company. He tells me of his appetites, and commands they should be satisfied. He reformeth all within my house that is not pleasing to him. He constraineth me to make superfluous expences, and domineers over all my Servants, as if I had given him Authority so to doe. If he stays here any long time, I am afraid that he will become Master of all, and at the last will drive us out of doors. What profit (replyed his Wife) will such acquaintance bring you? Wherefore did you suffer him to come into your house? I do believe that he is some notorious High-way-man; without all doubt he is come to rob us. If you saw but his Countenance and his Carriage, said the Covetous Man, you would not be of this opinion; he hath Gentlemen following him, and Lackey▪ apparelled after the fashion of the Court. His Retinue is not made up in hast, as are the train of those Personages who all on the sudden would be taken for Lords, to put some bad enterprise in execution. Howsoever, I am resolved to lodge him no longer than this night, were he more near unto me than my Cosin German. I shall not be much the better, though all the World should know that he hath lodged here a long time, and that he is, indeed, my kinsman; but on the concrary, the greatest part of my provision would be spent, and my Goods dispersed: More of Profit, and lesse of Honour, was the Motto of my Father. To be of the bloud of a Marquesse is not at his discretion; although I should make him never so good chear, I shall be no more his Cosin than I am now, and I shall be as much, if I use him never so coarsely. To speak the truth, I dare not thrust him out of doors by the head and shoulders, but I will use some gentle means or other to cause him to depart, without giving him any open discontent. I will pretend to morrow that I have a great processe, which I must go to the City to sollicit; you shall make your self to be more sick than you are, and when they shall demand of you for that which shall be necessary to entertain him, you shall counterfe it your self to be in some raving fit, and without Sense; so that when he finds me gone for many days, and my return to be very uncertain, and that he can enjoy neither yours, nor my Company, he will undoubtedly be inforced to depart; But I will forbid my People to permit him to take my Horses along with him, as he saith he hath a desire to do. Madamoiselle Buisson did approve the reasons, and resolutions of her Husband, who leaving her in her Chamber, did retire himself to lie in another.
In the mean time her Daughter, who a long time had been courted by a handsom young Gentleman, did advertise him by a Letter, that a fair opportunity did [...] it self to accomplish their desires, because her Mother was sick; and that they could not observe her actions so narrowly, as before, in reg [...] that a great Lord lodged there that Night, who had put all things in disorder. The Lover was already come, and so favourably, that a Servant belonging to the Castle meeting him, took him to be one of the followers of Francion, because he was so fashionable. His fair Sweet-heart was with him in a Chamber, between that of the pretended Marquisses, and the Chamber of her Father. The amorous Warr was so pleasing to them, that they began it as soon as possibly they could; They made the Bed to shake in such a manner, that her Father in the next room did easily perceive it, and all the Night afterwards he did not put his eye lids together, so much of unquietnesse did [Page 4]perplex his Spirit. He could not but think of that which his Wife had said unto him, and sometimes he so suffered himself to be carried away by distrust, that he took Francion to be some grand pillager, who had enterprised to rob him of whatsoever he had in his house; in this violence of suspition he said unto himself, As soon as day appears, I will not fail to send to the Provost Marshal, and all the Marshals men, to apprehend this Companion. He shall be taken in a snare. But, good God, doe [...] think to be more cunning than himself, who is the Master of all inventions? He peradventure hath done his work already, and is fled away; Ah miserable man that I am, to be so desperatly ruined, that I know not which way in the world to redresse my self. As he was in these perplexities, his Daughter and her Sweet-heart coming to re-imbrace each other, did shake the bed again with so much violence, that he heard it plainly. He knew not that it was his own Daughter who lay there, for he gave expresse Order that the Groom of Francions Chamber who served him as a Gentleman, should be lodged in it; And because there was a Coffer in that room in which were his richest habiliments, he conceived that the noise which he heard did proceed from his guests, who were breaking open the Coffer to empty it. He listned again attentively, and hearing no noise at all, I know not what new revolution of thoughts did surprise his Fancy, and he began to accuse himself of too much suspition, and to believe that he had heard nothing at all, but in imagination only, and said within himself, that he was a vain man to take a person so qualified for a thief; Neverthelesse he could not take the least rest, and going softly out of his chamber, he did see if all his Gates were fast locked, and if every one were asleep in their lodgings. Being come down into the Court, he was invaded by a thousand fears; It seemed to him, that he saw men coming down the window on a Ladder, and ever and anon he would look behind him, to see if any one was there ready with a prepared knife to cut his throat. Perceiving at the last the error of his judgement, and that it was overcome by vain Illusions, he returned to his Chamber, where he was no sooner entred, but he heard the same noise as before. He knew then that he was not deceived, but did draw more near unto the wall, and most attentively listned to that which they were doing in the other Chamber. The young Lover who was not able to conceal his own joys, did say at that instant unto his Sweet-heart, I see now that there is not any thing which per severance is not able to bring to effect. I have found the artifice to open that which was most close locked, all must give way unto it.
Now, as Men filled with presumption, when they hear any doubtfull words reported, they turn them all unto their own glory; and as those who believe they are hated by every one, do turn all to their own prejudice: so the fancier of all men doe accommodate themselves to their own passions, and ordinarily doe cause those things to appear unto them, which they doe either fear, or hope. This most particularly doth appear by covetous persons, who never see two men speaking together, but they believe they discourse of the means how to pillage them of their goods. This old Buisson, the grand Horesleech of the world, was of the same humour, and hearing these words from the Lover of his Daughter, he did give an interpretation to them according to his own suspition; He immediatly believed that some one endeavoured to open his chests, and the strong suggestion did grow upon his Soul, when the young Gentleman did thus pursue his discourse, I hereafter shall have no more cause to a [...]ict my self, for I am possessor of the choicest treasure that is here: But we doe not consider that the Day by degrees is coming on, I am afraid I shall be discovered if I goe not immediatly away, but as I goe out of the window, can I cleave like Ivy to the Wall? I know not, but I will make a tryal what I can do. Upon my credit thou speakest the truth, said old Buisson, Thou art possessor [Page 5]indeed of the choicest treasure in my house, since thou hast taken that which I had locked up in my Coffer, but thou shalt not carry it away as thou thinkest, I shall obstruct the passage.
Assuming then unto himself a generous resolution, he took his Sword, and came to the door of the Chamber which he thought to have broke open with his Feet. Francion, who that night slept soundly, and heard not the shaking of the bed at all, did awake at this new noise, and did arise to see what the businesse was, and knowing old Buisson by his Tongue, he demanded of him for what cause he did grow into so great a choler; What cause, said he, Have I not good reason? There is in the next room one of your Servants who hath broken open one of my Coffers. Francion replyed, I cannot believe it, I entertain no Servants but such as I conceive to be very faithfull. Neverthelesse let me see if that be true which you represent, if it shall appear so unto me, I will afflict upon him the severest punishment my self.
As he was speaking these words, Buisson called one of his Grooms, who brought him a Candle, and his Daughter having in the mean time caused her Lover to hide himself under her Bed, did put on her Petticoat, and came to open the door, rubbing her eyes, as if she were but newly awake. Her Father was much amazed to see her, and demanded of her, if she heard no noise in [...] Chamber? She made answer, No forsooth, neverthelesse he searched up and down, and came at last to look under the Bed, where he perceived her Companion, whom he knew to be one of his Neighbours. He thought that some one had been there to steal rather the treasure of his Coffer, than the treasure of his Daughters Honour, conceiving, that necessity, and not love had brought him thither; The young Gentleman said unto him, Sir, I beseech you to pardon the fault which Love hath caused me to commit; you know I am not descended of so base a Family that it will be any dishonour to you to have me to be your Son-in-Law; Madamoiselle your Daughter doth not disdain me, make me then so happy that I may have your consent as well as hers. Monsieur Buisson would not attend till he had ended his speech, but was in so prodigious a choler, that if Francion had not held him by the Arm, he had run his Sword through his body. Sirrah, said he, are you so impudently wicked, as to come to dishonour my house, I protest unto you, I will make you to repent it; And turning unto Francion he said unto him, I pray, Sir, unhand me, and grant me a little liberty, If you will expresse unto me any testimony of your love, permit that I take vengeance on this wretch, who ought to dye by no other hand than by my own. I ought also in the like manner to put to death that ungratious off-spring of mine, whom I am ashamed to own for my child. Dear Cosin, said Francion, as long as I am here, you shall not doe them any hurt, I my self will be the Advocate of so just a cause as theirs; And having forced the sword from the hand of Buisson, who was not so strong as himself, he did demonstrate to him, that there was no redresse for what had been done, but only to authorize it, and if he should doe otherwise, there would be reason enough that the dishonour which he so much feared should fall upon his own house. Du Buisson, in some manner approving of his reasons, did appease the first motions of his choler, and sate down in a chair near unto Francion, who taking him by the hand (in the earnest of friendship) did speak unto him in this manner, My dear Cosen, I love you so well, that I will make use of all occasions to give you the proofs thereof. The greatest which at this present I can make apparent to you, is, not to flatter you in any thing, although for the most part, men are accustomed so to doe, following the corruption of the age. I will acquaint you with the defects which you have, not to reproach you with them through enmity, or to increase your choler, but for the time to come to render you agreeable to those men of worth whom you doe displease. I will not dissemble with you, you are too miserable, and a hard man [Page 6]doth render himself odious to all the world, because he doth hide and lock up those goods, which every one stands in need of, and which every one doth desire. He makes no other use of them, but only to put them to use. It is impossible to gain any thing by him, for he doth buy as little as possibly he can, and never imployeth any workmen, but when he is in such a condition, as meer Necessity doth inforce him to it. He gives no recompence to those who have faithfully served him. His Friends are never well-come to his house, he gives them such pittifull entertainment, that he shews them the desire which he hath to see them no more. You are the Master of all these vices, I will not conceal it from you, Consider, and examine your own heart, with as great a severity as that man ought to doe, who is to judge himself. You doe know that I doe not unjustly accuse you. Represent now to your self, if you are not miserably deprived of the greatest comfort of your life, which ought to be the society of your friends. Doe you not extremely injure your self? for you are oftentimes even ready to perish with hunger amongst all your riches, and are so afraid to lay forth your money, that you dare not buy that which is most necessary for life. Nay which is worse than that, you constrain those to disobey you, who doe owe you all respect, and whose wills are bound to depend on yours. I dare maintain what I speak, that you inforce even your own Children to tread in dishonourable paths; You have a Son of age to know and see the world, and you will not allow him what according to his condition he ought to enjoy. You have a Daughter as capable to give love as to receive it, and yet you never think of marrying her, insomuch that she hath been inforced to look abroad to provide for her self. Du Buisson here interrupted him, and said, I know not who told you that, for it is certain I have had always a desire to marry her to the Son of a rich Merchant whom I know. Doe you not see, said Francion, your mistake herein? you look after nothing but wealth, and never enquire if he to whom you will give her be agreeable to her or not; but let us talk no more of that, she hath found her self a Mate already. I doe now conjure you, that you will altogether abandon your sordid humour, and I assure you I am come hither for that only purpose. I made you believe that I would stay here a long time, and put you to great expences, but my [...]ntion is, and was, to depart this Morning, and all that I have spoken doth end only to prove if your avatice be as great as it hath been presented to me,
After this, Francion did yet most lively demonstrate to him the foulnesse of his Vice, insomuch that the old Signior did begin to abhor it, and did resolve with himself to abandon it, and embrace the contrary Vertue, from whence he hoped, that all the happinesse in the world would redound unto him, but above all, that he should see himself honoured and cherished by divers Personages, whom he intended to oblige unto him by his Bounty. H [...] promised therfore that for the time to come he would be truly noble, and that he would marry his Daughter to him whom she had chosen for her Servant: so that not long afterwards the day appearing, Francion departed from h [...] [...] in great friendship, to repair unto the place where he so much desired [...] [...]nt. He did the best he could to make his Journey profitable for many things at one and the same time; and as we have seen through all the Course of his. History, he till this instant resembled those Knights errant of whom we have so many Histories, who travelled from Province to Province to repair disorder [...] to doe Justice to all the world, and to correct Enormities. It is true, that his Adventures are not attended with so much Bloud; they are therefore the more honourable. Neverthelesse his life hath something of mixture in it, and those who are precise, will find that it was not alwa [...] exemplar to withdraw other men from Vice, but whosoever can live better [...] let him; Our History shall rather encourage, than hinder such a person. We ought to know [Page 7]both Good, and Evill, to chuse the one, and to avoid the other; Neverthelesse we shall give you an account of those things here, which the nicest Spirits will not condemn, and will judge them only to be but indifferent trifles.
It was about Noon, when passing by a spacious Forest, he had a desire to repose himself in the shade, near unto a Fountain which was in the middle of the Plain. He sent away all his People into the neighbouring Village to take order for his Dinner, and reserved only one with him, who was the Gentleman of his Chamber, in the mean time he did lie down upon the grasse, and contemplated on the Picture of Nays. Some will say, that following the Imaginations of Poets he made this Complaint, which indeed is not much unlike to their ayr in the Romances. Ah dearest Picture! How many Miracles dost thou contain? And in how little a room? How can it be that the mixture of so few colours can have such wonderfull attractions? Alas! thou art nothing else but a Resemblance, and yet thou causest in me a real passion? I take delight indeed to touch thee, and to kisse thee, and I must confesse I touch nothing but Wood, and yet the sight of thee doth cause in me unparalleld transportations. What would become of me, if I might be one day so happy as to have her in my Arms, whose beauties thou representest, the excesse of Love and Joy would be so great, that I should lose at least my life, since that but looking on thee I have already lost my liberty? But fair Nays, I would I were now dying, so that I were but near unto your person. There was a Gentleman of that Country in the same Forest who understood his complaints, being hid behind a tree near unto him, and being desirous to know who he was, did approach unto him from his place of concealment, and demanded of him, Whose Picture he had in his hands, to which he made such sad complaints? Sir (replyed Francion) I am sorry that you have heard what I have said; for if you have never proved the force of Love, You will conceive it to be the most egregious folly in the World. The other making answer, that he was too well acquainted with the violence which that passion doth exercise upon humane Spirits, desired to see the picture of Nays, and knew so well to dive into the heart of Francion, that he got the truth out of it, and understood the whole design of his journey to see. Nays, and said unto him, Be of a glad heart, she is already arrived at the place to which you are addressing your self. I doe protest unto you, I have seen her, and doe believe her to be the most beautifull Lady in the world; Francion enquired further of the Gentleman what train she had; he made answer; she hath such a train, as a person of her quality ought to have, she hath moreover in her company a young Signior called Valerius, who in my opinion is as much devoted to her service as your self. They pretend both to be sick, and to take for the present those waters for their recovery, but I doe believe they doe not drink the waters which are brought unto them, but doe privatly throw them away, for that is not the water which is expedient for them; you say true, said Francion, For Nays needs no other water, than to drink of the River of the Paradise of Love, which I will give unto her, if she pleaseth; and as for Valerius, he must needs take full draughts of the water of the River of Forgetfulnesse, to cause him to lose the remembrance of that incomparable beauty, which doth not shine for the improvement of his fortunes, but will procure his death, if always he will adventure to approach it, as he hath done heretofore.
Having had some other discourses on this Subject, Francion did thank the Gentleman for the intelligence he had given him, and departed to the Inn where Dinner stayed for him, and after that, he gave himself no rest until he came to the Village where the fountain was, to which so many sick men did addresse themselves. When he came thither in the closing of the evening, he understood that Nays was there with Valerius, accordingly as he was informed. [Page 8]He enquired for the house where she lodged, and passed by it in a good equipage, as she did stand at the window to take the fresh air. He there beheld the beauty which seemed to him more wonderfull than that of her picture, for he observed there many excellent lineaments, which the Painter had forgotten. Nays perceiving him, was as sollicitous to enquire who he was, for she had never seen any Signior, who in such a journey had people to attend him so richly habited. Those that stood near unto her, being ignorant of him, she was constrained to send one of her menial Servants to inform her self who he was, and what was his name. He addressed himself to one of his Lackeys, who (as all the rest of them) was commanded to say that his name was Floriander; for Francion, contrary to his first intention, was determined through all hazards to follow the Counsel of Dorini, by that pretence first of all to make tryal of his fortune. At the name of Floriander the heart of Nays did leap for joy, conceiving that he, for whom she fetched so many sighs, was arrived in that Country, according to her desires.
She could not, as he passed by, observe Francion so precisely, to know whether or not he was like to that picture of Floriander which she had. She now did burn with a desire to see him, and knew not what to doe to make her self so happy. The worst of all was, as she thought, that Dorcini was not with her. It did much afflict her, that she had not any whom she thought capable to be imployed in this great affair, and she knew not how to manage it her self, because she was a stranger, and did not well understand the customs of France. Neverthelesse, at the last she resolved to accomplish her desires, and her Lover having so far prevailed, according to the ordinary custom, to give her a visit, she did lead Valerius in a ring, and did believe, that although he had taken the pains to wait upon her, yet she might use the liberty allowed to women, and freely give that place to another, which he hoped to enjoy in her affections.
As she was in these apprehensions, a Post brought her a Letter, which she unsealed, and found that it came from Dorini; Madam, said the Post, Before she had the leisure to peruse it, wonder not that a Letter is sent unto you here from Italy, which came from France, for I was informed, that there was something in it which did much concern you, and that I must make no delay, but bring it to you with all the speed that possibly I could, fearing you were not advertised that you are more near to Dorini here, than in your own Country; When he had spoken those words, she did let her eye fall on the Letter, where she did read, that her dear Lover was dead. It undoubtedly must needs be, that the faculties of her Soul were of an admirable temper, that at the suddenesse of this unexpected and most melancholy news, she did not seem to change her complexion, or to swoun away.
That which at that instant much conduced to make her passe away her affliction, was, that a second Messenger belonging to Francion did represent unto her, that Floriander having notice that she was in that Village, desired to have the happinesse to behold her, and desired to understand at what hour he should not be too unmannerly importunate to wait upon her. Her answer was, that at what hour soever he would please to come, his presence would bring an absolute contentment to her. This being made known to Francion, he made his addresse unto her, as her Soul was riddling in these strange uncertainties, seeing on the one side she understood that Floriander was dead, and on the other that he was coming to wait upon her. Her Recourse was to her picture, which she so well contemplated, that she perceived that Francion was not the same Floriander, who caused her so much to languish in the feavers of love. Neverthelesse she received him according to his quality, and with a countenance lesse sorrowfull, than it ought to be for the occasion which she had to afflict her self. The first words of complement being ceased, she said [Page 9]unto him, Sir, You can give me certain Intelligence concerning what I am about to speak; There is in France another Floriander besides your self, Tell me, I pray, if he be dead, as I am advertised he is? Francion perceiving then that it was unprofitable for him to personate any other but himself, did inform her, that without all doubt Floriander was dead; but he did not know the reason, he said, wherefore she should think that his own Name was Floriander. Nays made answer, That his own Servant did give him that Name; at which Francion being nothing amazed, did say unto her, Truly I understand now the occasion of it, It is because he was a Servant to Floriander, and he hath not been long with me; so that by custom the Name of his first Master doth come more often into his mouth, than doth my own.
After this Nays demanded of him, if he had any Indisposition in his Body, which did inforce him to come and drink the waters of that place? He being not able to conceal his Martyrdom before her who only could redresse it, did speak in these words, Madam, You doe me wrong to believe that any other Subject, but the Desire only to see you, did possesse me with the Resolution to come hither; Take not from my affection the most sensible part thereof, and believe that I have no other Grief, but that only which your perfections have caused in me. But alas, it is a disease that hath no parallel in the rigour of it, and which would indeed be insupportable without the hope that doth attend it. Fair Goddesse! what miracles have you produced? There are some who see the Sun that are not warmed with the Beams thereof. Those who behold nothing but the form of it in a picture, doe feel no heat at all; but I have been inflamed even to excesse, in beholding but your picture only. What happy Destiny is it which hindereth, that in beholding you now face to face, I am not altogether reduced into ashes! Was Heaven not so favourable unto me, to preserve me in my first Estate, to make me suffer eternally. Be it so, or be it not, you, in the spite of the Ordinances of Fate, can restore me unto my health, and extinguish the most violent flames which I doe suffer. To this purpose I come hither, not to drink the waters of the Fountain, which give a remedy to many incommodities of the Body, but to indeavour to have other waters far more precious, which exercise their functions upon Souls. It is your good will and your favours which are capable to asswage my passions, if their streams doe please to run down upon them. You shall pardon me, said Nays, if I tell you (whatsoever to the contrary you please to allege) that I believe you come not hither for any other thing than to make apparent the wonders of your Merit, which as in all other things, so it is visible in this, that at every word you doe show the flourish and acutenesse of your eloquence.
This entertainment of their Discourse had continued longer, if Valerius, who lodged in another house, was not come at the same instant to wait upon his Mistresse. Francion then did take his leave of her, having not the opportunity freely to court her. Valerius, who was ignorant that her Journy to these Waters was to procure her a Servant, did pursue those submissions which he was accustomed to render to her; But although he was dead who held he heart in subjection, she would not throw away her affection upon Valerius, the Inclination which she had to the French was not lost. She found attractions in Francion, which were no lesse able to overcome her, than were those of the Picture of Floriander, and of the Story of his Vertues. She said within her self, What a Fool was I until this present to fall in love with a Picture? peradventure I might have found that he whom I adored, without seeing him in effect, had lesse perfections by farr than were imputed to him. But how on this choice I cannot be deceived, I see most clearly before my eys an object worthy of admiration. A Signior of Eminence, of a brave port, and a gallant Spirit, and which is more, enamour'd and hot on me, being fill'd, as I conceive, with an excessive affection, so that I shall not gain him with that [Page 10]difficulty and trouble, as I might have done Floriander.
Whilst Nays entertained her self with these thoughts, Francion was possessed with the like, which tended to love her eternally, as the most excellent Lady that ever he beheld. The next day he took an occasion to walk with her, and did lead her under her arm into a pleasant and spacious garden, and Valerius in the same posture, and into the same place, did lead a French Lady, who was there at that present.
Francion resolved to assist himself with the knowledge he had of Dorini, and acquainted Nays with the gift which Dorini had presented him after the Death of Floriander, which was her own Picture, thinking there was no man to whom more justly he could give it, than to himself, who was one of the entirest Lovers in the world; afterwards with words well ordered, according to the politenesse of the Court, he demanded of her, If she would not at the last, of her own accord, condescend to grant him a more precious present, which was, the assurance of her affection? Sir, said Nays, very spiritfully unto him, I plainly perceive that you are of so unbounded a Spirit, that it is a hard task to content you. Wherefore did you not content your self with my Picture which was given you? I believe it was because you would possesse the Original; Be not so covetous, if you desire to live in quiet. I am not so bold as yet, said Francion, as to demand to possesse you, my Desire only is, that you will vouchsafe to acknowledge that you do possesse me; and following his Discourse, he did take the Picture out of his pocket, and did shew it her. It is the same, said she, which I gave unto Dorini, but only that it looks a little more dark and discoloured. Think not strange thereat, said Francion, It is the tears only which I have powred upon it in the strength of my passion, which hath taken away the life and beauty of its complexion. Your tears I said Nays, I durst lay a wager then that you did kisse it both night and day. Francion made answer, It is true. For my part, said Nays, I am not contented at it. Wherefore so, (said Francion, and smiled) Are you more pleased that I should kisse your self? She repyed, I would not that you should kisse either the one or the other; For first of all, if you should be seen to kisse me, it would be divulged, that in secret I did permit you something else; If in my absence you should be seen to kisse my Picture, it would be divulged, that when you are with me, you doe kisse me; and from thence there would proceed a more dangerous conjecture. But if I kisse your Picture, far from any Witnesses, said Francion, no Inconvenience will arive thereby. I think not, said Nays. And if I should kisse your self, not any being present, said Francion, we must also necessarily conclude, that there can be but little danger in it. I will proceed no further, said Nays, on this subject, let us talk of things more important; However I will leave it to you to judge, if such kisses (though they be never so secret) do not carry some Inconvenience with them: but I will abandon this Discourse, your Arguments are too subtle for me.
As they had finished this, and began some other Discourse, they beheld a goodly Troop of Men on Horseback, in the head whereof Nays discovered one of them to be Ergastus, a Venetian Signior, who had made love unto her. He had heard of her departure out of Italy, and fearing that his Rival Valerius would carry her in his absence, and marry her in a strange Country, he advanced with all the speed he could to take the beautifull prey from him. Nays did give him better entertainment, than the hatred which in her Soul she did bear unto him did seem to permit. Her disposition was so courteous, and she was so discreet in all her actions, that she made a Conscience to disrespect him, who only to wait on her had travelled so long a Iourney.
There were so few commodious houses of entertainment in that Town, that Nays, Francion, and Valerius, with their Train, did take up all the Lodgings, Ergastus therefore could not find such rooms as were necessary for him, and [Page 11]was inforced to withdraw to the next Town, which was a league from thence. The two Lovers who were always with Nays, were glad to see their Rival so farre removed, who in his Sute was the most importunate, and the proudest and most supercilious of them all, because he had riches and possessions equal to those of his Mistresse, and did believe that for that respect she was obliged to chuse him for her Husband.
Francion (to passe away the melancholy which possessed him, conceiving there were not a few obstacles in the progresse of his Love) did one day walk towards the Fountain where they did drink their medicinal waters. He observed divers who for a time had a free relaxation of Spirit, without the least trouble in the world. One one side he perceived some Men who drank off deep great glasses from one quarter of an hour to another. On the other, he beheld others who did nothing else but make water. There were Ladies also who ever and anon, after some short respite of time, were constrained to empty their bladders: Amongst them all, there were very few who had any great or visible malady upon them; the greatest part came only either for curiosity or for delicacy. There were also some Women who came thither on purpose to find the opportunity to make their Husbands Cuckolds. Neverthelesse Francion said, We are too blame to take up the rooms of so many afflicted persons, who know not where to lodge, because that we have possessed our selves of all the chief houses of Entertainment. It is good reason that we should give place unto them: What have we to doe here? If it were but observed that we make no use of the Medicinal water, it would be presently suspected that we have some extravagant design. If Nays would be perswaded by me, she would immediately return, since she knows there is no Floriander to be expected here; and as soon as she were gone we would not fail to follow her.
Having thus discoursed with himself, he addressed himself to Nays, whom he found well disposed to remove from that Country, where she could find nothing that might any longer detain her. She demanded of him, what way he was resolved to take? He made answer, She might as well enquire of the Marigold to what side it would turn; for, said he, It is well known that it is the Nature of that Flower to turn towards the Sun, and it is not to be doubtted but that I will follow your fair eyes, the Suns of my Soul, in what part of the world soever they shall give day unto them. If you go into Italy, I wil goe with you; If you stay any longer in France, I will stay also there. Nays was very glad to understand the determination of that gentle Knight, whose Company was farr more gratefull to her, than that of Ergastus or Valerius.
The next morning she resolved to set forth towards her own Country, and these three Lovers being advertised of it, did prepare themselves to attend her; insomuch that being seen to travel with so brave a train, she was taken for no lesse than some great Queen. In this journey great was the jealousie betwixt the Italians and the French; for she highly preferr'd Francion in her favours, and made but little account of the two others: Oftentimes she would invite him to come into her Caroach, and discourse with her on different things, where he always perceived the quicknesse of her apprehension, and the vivacity of her Spirit, which by the reading of good Books she had redeemed from the darknesse of Ignorance. It was an incredible contentment to him, that beholding the beauty of his Prison, he could never repent him of the losse of his Liberty. In the mean time, his Rivals being vexed at the favour which he received, did ride sometimes before, and sometimes behind, to testify in some sort their reciprocal disdain; neverthelesse in the Towns through which they passed, they did give her that observance, as to take up their Lodgings as close unto hers as possibly they could. Francion passionately desired to give [Page 12]them some Camisade, to punish them for their apparent rashnesse, in lodging their affections in the same place with himself.
He communicated his Design to one of the Grooms of Nays, whose love he had purchased by his liberality, and he intreated him to assist him in the Invention. This Servant being obliged to him, did promise him to perform whatsoever was in the compass of his power; and, according to his directions, he did repair to Valerius, and told him, That Nays was overcome with the pains he had taken to wait upon her, and desired nothing more than to delight her self in his Company; but she could not entertain him as she would, because she had two other Lovers, who were so importunate with her, and especially the Frenchman, whom they ought to stand in fear of, because as yet they were upon the Lands of his Country, where he had both Friends and Power: Notwithstanding she was resolved to grant him some hours of Entertainment, and desired him to come in the dusk of the Evening, in a habit like to that of her own Servants.
Having acquainted Valerius with this, he addressed himself to Ergastus, to give him the same Invitation, so that they both apparelled themselves accordingly as they were prescribed, believing that it was highly necessary to keep them from being discovered. Valerius came first to Nays House, and as he was knocking at the door, Ergastus arrived, who taking Valerius for one of the Ladies Servants, demanded of him, if his Mistresse were in Bed or not? Valerius answered something stubbornly, That he could not tell; Ergastus could not endure his arrogance, and being transported into choler, did give him some injurious language, whereupon they fell to blows with their fists: In this Commotion one came to the Gate with a Candle, by the light whereof knowing one another, they were two of the most amazed Creatures in the world, and being confounded with shame, they returned by severall ways to their own lodgings.
Meeting again on the next morning, they had the curiosity to demand of one another wherefore they were so disguised; And because they could not conceal that they were infinitely amorous of Naeys, and did whatsoever lay in their power to procure her good will, they accounted one unto the other the message they received, and perceived that there was some one who had a design upon them. They did send to seek out the Groom, who did bring the message to them, and conjured him to tell them, for what cause he had delivered to them both the same errand?
Seeing they could draw from him no other answers, but what carryed no probability of truth with it, they promised him a great recompense; so that being tempted partly with that, and partly with the love which he did bear to those of his own Country, he declared to them, that he had done nothing, but by the Counsell of Francion.
At these tydings they were resolved to be revenged, and as soon as an occasion should offer it self, to pay the Frenchman in his own metal. Hereupon they did shake hands, and became entire friends, to have the better opportunity to hurt their common and dangerous Enemy, and propounded to themselves not to prosecute their loves, until they could be acquitted of his Company.
Nays understanding the ill will they did bear unto him whom she loved, and fearing that some mischief might ensue; would not look upon him with the least favour, and did forbear to speak unto him, but when necessity did oblige her to it. This much perplexed Francion, who propounding to himself that she disdained him, it caused him to send many Letters of Love unto her by her Servants, who at the last assured him, that their Mistresse did charge them to acquaint him that she desired not that he should send any more such letters to her. One day, as privately as he could, he accosted a [Page 13]female servant of Nays, who did wish him well, and conjured her by all manner of Imprecations, to acquaint him with the cause of her Ladies displeasure. She consented to discover it unto him, provided that he would promise to keep it secret. He having made all the protestations that she could desire, she informed him, that her Lady suspecting the dangerous enterprise of his Rivalls, would not make manifest the affection which she did bear unto him, until she was got forth from those unknown places, and saw him in her own lands, where she could interpose her authority, whatsoever accident might befall. This gratefull news did bring him as great contentment as he possibly could imagin, and for his consolation he began to nourish in his Soul a great hope at the policy of his Mistresse, who would make him to languish a little in despair, to render afterwards her favours the more precious. When they were come into Italy, Valerius and Ergastus thought they should easily find the means to intrap him, as indeed they well might doe. They did prosecute him with extraordinary respect, and did not speak unto him, but in the most civil Complements of the world. If his Spirit were not at that time entirely possessed with the agonies of Love, which caused him to think on nothing else, he might well conceive that this extraordinary entertainment of his Rivals, proceeded only out of a desire which they had, to draw him into their ambuscadoes. Being therefore become a stranger to his accustomed prudence, he took no care of them, and fondly believed that they did bear unto him no lesse good will in their hearts, than they expressed by their words. To recreate himself, he was seen altogether in their company, because he durst not speak unto Nays, and he did goe to seek them out himself in the places where they lodged.
One morning he did meet them just before the Gate of the house where Nays was lodged, where he beheld a Gentleman with great joy to salute Ergastus, as if he had not seen him a long time before, afterwards he whispered some words in his ear, to which Ergastus only answered by the shaking of his head. Gentlemen, said Ergastus, turning himself afterwards to Valerius and Francion, Behold here a fair occasion which offers it self to content your curiosities. The Master of this Gentleman is Governour of a strong Castle two leagues from this place, he hath heard of my arrival, and hath sent unto me, to invite me with my company to his Castle, you shall goe along with me, if you please, according to his desire. Valerius made answer, that he had never the happinesse to know that Signior, and therefore he could not believe that he desired his Company, and for his own part, he was not so ill advised, as to be importunate with any man, to be obliged to him for a courtesie. Francion with greater reason made an answer, much to the same sense. But Ergastus seeming discontented thereat, did say unto them, Lose not the opportunity you have to behold many excellent things. There are great rarities in this place to which you are invited to goe. There are the true Bones of a man of a prodigious greatnesse. There are to be seen all sorts of Arms, and antient medals, The most exquisite things in all the world are there in one abridgement to be seen. Goe along with me, I beseech you, for I have no desire to goe thither without you. I am unwilling to lose the good opinion of my friend, who may be angry with me for having failed to bring those persons to him, whose Merit he infinitely doth esteem. Francion, who was not of the jealous humour of that Country, did believe the words of Ergaesius, and that there were many rarities in that place to which he would conduct him, and seeing that at the last Valerius did consent to goe along with him, he was willing to be their Companion, without conceiving that all this was but a plot laid before hand to take away his life. He was on Horseback as well as the rest, and had his Gentleman to attend him, whom he would have had to have followed him, with all his train, but Ergastus said unto him, that he [Page 14]must not be allowed to take any one with him, for they could not be permitted with any great company to enter into the Castle. I take none of my people with me, said Ergastus, no more doth Valerius, it is requisite that we doe leave them all behind us at Nays Court, After dinner we shall easily overtake them; We will have none to goe along with us, but only a Groom of the Marchionesses, whom I doe esteem above all the rest. Having expressed these words, he caused the Gentleman of whom he spake to come unto him, who was the same person that heretofore was so much affectioned to the service of Francion.
In a short time they arrived at the Castle, where they were honourably received by him who was the Captain. Francion observing that they held one another in entertainments, which prolonged the time, was extremely sorry, for he burned with impatience to behold the marvails that were related to him. He softly acquainted Valerius with it, who moved the Company concerning that Subject. The Captain who had the watch-word given him, no sooner heard of it, but immediatly he took a great bunch of keys, and having led them a long way, he caused them to enter into a strong Tower, where, he said, the greatest rarities of that place were locked up. He shewed them a great round chair very ancient, which had truckles under it to move withall. He assured them, that on whatsoever hour one should sit down in it, he should hear a certain harmonious noise which came, as is thought, from under the ground, but the cause thereof could never be found; It was therefore imputed to some Spirits who inhabite the place. Ergastus laughed at it, and said it was a phantastical imagination, and that he could give no faith to a thing so extraordinary; all that stood by were of the same opinion with himself. Make tryal of it, said the Captain, and you shall understand the Truth, they then begun one after another to sit down in the chair, and rising in a wonder they affirmed that they heard the sweetest Musick in the World. Francion who stayed last of all, and did laugh at the ridiculous affirmation of his Companions, did, to comply with them, sit down himself, And the Captain standing neer unto him, did in an instant turn a little cord, whereupon the springs flying open that held fast the chair, it did run down with him that was in it into a deep Cave, where he continued for a certain time so amazed, that he stirred not either hand or foot. Ergastus and Valerius seeing him so well surprized, did thank the Captain for the good assistance he had given them, and entreated him to continue it, by putting his prisoner to death, when he should see convenient, From thence they departed toward Nays, whom they found in a little Town at dinner. She enquired of them what was become of Francion, because it was told her that he was not in that place where all his people were lodged. Her Groom, of whom we have spoken, did approach unto her, and said, Madam, He is privately returned to France, and meeting with me accidentally before his departure, he did give me a charge to acquaint you, that in whatsoever place he should be, he would always assume the quality of your servant; And Madam, Doe not wonder that he is gone without his train, It is because he would not make apparent the desire which he hath to depart from you, fearing, that if any longer he should stay, it would redound to the prejudice of his affairs; And there is a great apparence that it is so, for he hath commanded me to charge his people to return all of them into France, and, without making any noise, to overtake him in the way. Having told this lie to Nays, he repaired to the Gentleman who waited upon Francion in his Chamber, and caused him to depart with all the other Servants to overtake their Master.
Nays had all the afflictions in the world for the sudden removal of him whom so intirely she affected. Oh, How often did she repent that she had been of late so averse unto him, for she believed that she was the cause of his departure, [Page 15]Accursed men, said she, speaking of Valerius and Ergastus, If you had not persecuted me with your importunities, I had not been constrained to use him so cruelly, whose least action doth merit infinite favours. May you be punished with the Evil which you have caused me to suffer. Never hope that I will look upon you with a pleasing countenance again. I will for the time to come be more cruel to you than ever yet I have been, or peradventure you doe believe that I can be. And as she said, so accordingly she did deport her self; but had she known the treason of those two Signiors, she would undoubtedly have been inforced to have used them more cruelly. At the last she arrived at her own house, where more and more she did testifie her indignation, and commanded her unfaithfull Groom to seek out Francion in all places, and to give him a Letter from her, in which she did demonstrate for what occasion she did not give him that respect which his Vertues did deserve, and covertly did intreat him to come to that place where heretofore he had a great desire to arrive. This Post did depart to put his charge in execution, and took his way towards France, in which he knew well enough that he should not find Francion. Having travailed not far, he returned, and before he saw his Mistresse, he passed by the House where Ergastus lodged, of whom he demanded what expedient he should use in that affair? Ergastus believing that Nays had never seen any thing written by Francion's own hand, did cause a Letter to be written as if it came drectly from him, in which, amongst other things, he did represent unto her, that the pleasures in France had caused him to forget the delights of Italy, and that she must never expect to see him again, seeing there was nothing that could call him back into Italy. Nays, having received that Letter, did call Francion a thousand times ungratefull and uncivil to write such a Letter to her; But being out of the heat of that passion, she could not chuse but love him as well as before, and was angry with Nature, because she had not given her beauty enough to captivate him who did disdain her. Her transportation was so violent, that she resolved with her self to live always a Widdow, rather than to marry any other but him only whom she desired, so that both Ergastus and Valerius did unprofitably continue to render those submissions to her, which might have mollified the heart of any other.
The people of Francion travailed many miles to seek out their Master, of whom they would receive no intelligence. In the mean time he remained in the deep Cave, where he was visited in the Evening by a Man, who opened the Wicket of the Gate, to give him wherewith to eat. He enquired for what cause he was detained Prisoner, and greatly complained of the Treachery that was committed against him.
The Jaylor made answer, You are not the first whom I have seen deceived in this manner, for during the late wars, the chair wherein you sate hath served to intrap many gallant personages, who by several subtilties have been betrayed into this Castle. Francion having answered, That this advertisement was uncomfortable, he was left there until the next day, when he was visited again by the same Man, who for eight days together failed not twice a day to bring him meat and drink. He had within him diverse considerations, wherewith he did assist himself to mitigate his afflictions. He represented to himself, that it was as well for him to be locked up where he was, than to be at liberty in the world, where it is a folly to look for any true contentment; At the least he was now delivered from the sight of the enormities of this age, and had the leisure to nourish his Spirit with several instructions of the profoundest Philosophy.
The Captain, having not cruelty enough to suffer him to dye by languishment, nor to cause poyson to be given to him, which would have a more sudden effect, did determine to grant him his liberty, and seeing that Ergastus was now a great way from him, he did not much mind to put what he promised [Page 16]in execution. He one night did send some men into the prison where he was, who with all their force did take his cloaths from him, and delivered him to some Country-men that were present, and having blinded his eys, and tyde his hands and his feet, they carried him to a small River which passed by the side of the Castle; there was a little Boat on the Bank, into which they did put him, and they did permit him to be carried away by the current of the stream, the drift whereof did bear him a great way. He could never imagine in what place he was; but by turning himself up and down, he conjectured that he was in some Beer.
After that it was morning he was a long time beaten up and down by the wind, because there was no body upon the River; at the last some men who were comming up the River in a Bark, did meet with this Boat. They immediatly stopped the Boat, and having brought it to the Bank, they did take the Man out of it, and having unblinded him, they demanded of him, who did put him there? He did answer them the best he could, making not the least mention of his quality, so that he was taken by them to be some poor man. Hunger inforcing him, he was constrained to take his Repast with those people who belonged to the Neighbouring Village. He had no money about him, and knew not whither to go to borrow any. His cloaths were so ragged, and so unsightly, that he could hardly be taken for what he was, if he had discovered himself. He knew not where his train of Servants were, and it was impossible for him to go to look them out, because he had no Passe to travel, neither was he minded to demand one, because he was not assured in what place to find any of his people, and he was afraid to go into the Towns, for fear he should meet with some who did know him, and seeing him in such an equipage, should entertain some bad opinion of him; He concluded, that it was his surest course to attend a little, until Raymond and Dorini were come into Italy, according to their promises: He assured himself of all assistance from them that he could desire, and believed that he might impart his Misfortunes in his Letters to them, in whatsoever place they were; For the rest, he was well content for a few dayes to keep himself in a place where he was unknown, and where he might have the leisure to digest into order an infinite number of excellent meditations which he had in the time of his Imprisonment.
He who had given him his Dinner, seeing him of a good countenance, demanded of him, If he would stay with him to keep his sheep, his Shepherd being dead not long before? to which Francion did readily agree. And let none think strange of it, that he accepted of that Condition; there was nothing in it which was not worthy of his gallantry. The greatest men in the world have been sometimes addicted to the like Condition, to live with the more tranquillity of Spirit. The Charge of the Flock being given to him, he did lead them forth into the fields every day, and in the way he studied on divers things he had to write. He composed many Verses in the praise of Nays, and on the passion which he had for her. He alwayes did contemplate on her beauties in whatsoever place he was; and although at the first he was much afflicted, because that with his cloaths they had taken her Pourtraict from him, he did patiently endure that losse, because he had her Picture ingraven in his heart; which did better represent her, and shewed it self more lively far unto him in darknesse, than by day.
He did one day repair to the house of a Gentleman, where he saw a little Lute, on which there was not any one who could play. He did demand it of him, assuring him, that he knew a little how to finger that Instrument; and having it given to him, he found the means to accouter it with good strings, and became afterwards the Orpheus of the Village. The Gentleman whom he overcame by his Importunities was nothing sorry of his gift, after he had heard him to play so well thereon. To the Musick of the Lute he had also such good [Page 17]Songs, that his company began to be in great request. On Sundays and Holydays he was always at Feasts, sometimes at one, and sometimes at another, where he did eat and drink with as much appetite as at the Court, and did laugh as heartily. That which most of all did please him, was, that he did not fear any envious eye to be such an observe of his actions, as to make a glosse upon them, and to defame him by back biting him. There was no person offended, that he did not give unto him due honor, and that he exchanged not with him Complement for Complement. He enjoyed an absolute liberty in whatsoever place he was, insomuch that he confessed in himself, that he never did lead so happy a life; and he had always kept himself in that Condition, were it not that sometimes he had most violent fits of his amorous Feaver, which did inflame him with a desire to see his Nays; Neverthelesse, when occasion did sometimes present it self to tast a little of the sweet pleasures of Nature, he was not so scrupulous as to believe he offended his Mistresse therein. He oftentimes did take his Lute with him into the fields, and the hand somest and most lovely maids of that place would forsake their sheep to hear him play under the shade of some Copse, or in some Cavern; Wehn he was alone with any one of them, he did not forget to use his best indeavours to gain her.
There was a brown Lasse amongst them that did infinitly please him, but he could not arrive to the end of his desires, which was to enjoy her, if one day in private he had not advised her, after he had done playing with the Lute, that he could play also on another Instrument so well, that she would be even ravished with the harmony therof, howsoever he would not have that Musick to be made known to all the World. She, who took great delight to hear him sing, did most incessantly beseech him, That he would make her so happy, as one day to partake of that rare Musick. I will, said he, provided you acquaint no body therewith; for I desire not to manifest to the world what I can do. Come to me to morrow to the Wantons Cave, you, without all doubt, shall find me there with my Instrument, which I will not forget to bring along with me.
The Brown Lasse, being as glad as if some great Treasure had been offered to her, did not fail on the next day to come to the place that was appointed, which was unfrequented by the Country people. Well, said she, I see you keep your promise. He made answer, Yes, I am ready to do you service. She thereupon did sit down close by him, and intreating him, to shew her his Instrument, and to play therewith. He said unto her, Sweet-heart, You never saw so miraculous a thing as I do use to produce my melody. To conceal nothing from you, I have not my Instrument made either of Wood or of Horn, the Harmony proceeds from the Members of my body, which doth produce it altogether. The Maid then imagined, that in using certain gestures, and some strange motion of his Body, he had the art to make his bones so to crackle, as to make some other kind of an agreeable sound; Or else he had some melodious knack with his fingers; Or with his hands did so strike on the other members of his body, that there was a certain concent of Musick in the noise which it produced. But soon afterwards she perceived that there was something else to be done; for he said unto her, Sweet-heart, Since you will have pleasure, you must take some pains your self; I cannot exercise my artifice alone, you must joyn with me in it, and help me if you please. Shew me then, (said the brown Laste) that which I must do. Immediatly Francion did imbrace her, and kissed her at his pleasure; afterwards he endeavoured to accomplish the rest. Oh God (said she) you do me wrong! Let me alone. Patience (said Francion) the Event will be better than the Beginning. Immediatly she was ready to swoun away with pleasure, finding I know not what extraordinary sweetnesse: And observing that Francion began to retire from her, she said [Page 18]unto him, What! Have you done already? you have but just now begun. Oh my Sweet heart, said Francion, I did truly prophecy that it would not hurt you, and you would desire that the Melody lasted longer. Truly so I do, said the Girl, your Musick is so sweet that it makes no noise at all, one cannot hear it; but one may feel it with delight enough. Is there no way for us to begin again? Dear Sweet-heart, said he, All good things are rare, and hard to be obtained, This is of the same Nature; But tell me, and speak truly, Have you not found a great deal of pleasure in that which I have done? I should have lost my senses, said she, if I should not confesse as much. Some time after that pleasant entertainment, they had the means to begin again their incomparable Musick, which was no lesse agreeable at that time, than it was before.
After this, the brown Lasse did go every day to find out her Minstrel, as soon as ever she could get away from her Fathers house; but she was so full of tongue, that she revealed her secret to one of her Companions, who desiring to participat in the Contentment, did come along with her to give a visit to our Shepherd in the Melodious Cave. This brown lasse did make a request to the Shepherd for her, but at the first he seemed to stand off, and to make strange thereat; and checked her much for having discovered that which she had promised to conceal. Neverthelesse he gave them both smooth words afterwards, and said, that he would content her Companion, because she should not vex him with her daily importunities, to have her to tast of the same pleasures.
The brown Lasse did deliberate with her self to be gone for a while, to give him the opportunity to play with the other, and thereby she did the Musitan a great Courtesie, who in one time could not render them both intirely contented. Her Companion stayed with him, and making some resistance at first, as if she was unwilling to endure that which he had a desire to perform, she proved at the last the sweetnesse of his harmony. The brown Maid being returned, demanded of her Companion how she found her self? and if it were possible to imagine any thing that was more delicious? Truly (said she) I am beholding to you; but in this I find nothing at all which is new unto me: for a Groom of my Fathers did cause me to understand as much as this many years ago. This Shepherd doth no more than all other men do, nor is he more cunning in his art than they are. Say that it be so, (replyed the brown girl) yet I had rather that he should give me this Contentment than any other whom I know, for he is a handsom Man, and I will never endure that those foul Clowns, whom I see every day, should approach me as he doth, by putting their bodies and their mouthes to mine. If you take him for that, said the other, I must excuse you; for you have the best reason for it in the world, and the handsomest Musician amongst them all: But have a Care that his Musick prove not dangerous to you; for, it may be Nine moneths hence, to your amazement, another young Musician may come forth from your Belly, with Musick far differing from his; It will be a young Child, who will do nothing else but cry, untill you shall give him that breast to suck which your Shepherd hath so often kissed; and this is the reason why I counsel you as much as I can to refrain for the time to come from going to the melodious Cavern.
The Brown Lasse followed the advice of her Companion; but Francion, for all that, did want for no Game to sport himself withall: He had many other female practitioners, as well as her self, insomuch that he seemed to be the Town-bull of that, and all the other places thereabouts. If he found any Girl that was more coy than the rest, be had recourse to his old artifices to overcome her. I am of an opinion (said he to himself) that it is of no great Importance what course of life it is we live, if so be have contentment with it. We ought not to take any care at all from whence this Contentment doth [Page 19]proceed, if it comes according to our wish: What occasion then of sorrow have I, although of a Gentleman I am become a Shepherd, since I enjoy all the sweetest delights in the world? Ought I to afflict my self to observe the means I must use to arrive to the end of my intentions, since I so happily do accomplish them?
Thus did he argue and reason on his own fortune, and many voluptuous persons have the same thoughts, without dreaming of the punishments that do follow so licentious a life. Some having defloured Maids, and got them with child, are by Justice constrained to marry them, or to suffer imprisonment, or to give a round sum of money to marry them to others; Sometimes also the Parents themselves, being resolved to be revenged on those who doe dishonour their Children, doe cause those perfidious Lovers to fall under the hands of Assassinates. Amongst those poor people with whom he did converse, Francion was in some reputation, and because he had no desire to continue long amongst them, it made him the more hardy; howsoever, for all that, he should not have indangered himself; and as for the Country Wenches that suffered themselves so easily to be abused, they made their weaknesse and their simplicity the more apparent. It is true, that Francion had a more generous countenance and deportment than all the peasants in the Country, but this should render him to be the more suspected amongst them, especially because he was a stranger. Neverthelesse, we must confesse that Love comes to be Master of all manner of Spirits. There was not a Wench in the whole Country but was charmed by the gallantry of this brave Shepherd, and acknowledged that perfectly they did learn by him the whole method, and the art of Love, for all the sloth, and the clownish simplicity of their apprehensions. The Wife of the Labourer with whom he lived, was as much enamoured on him, and indeavoured to discover it to him by all the means she could invent. She would let him goe in the morning to the fields, without giving him wherewith to put into his Satchel, because she might take the occasion to goe her self unto him to carry him his dinner. She took a great pleasure to pull a morsell from his hands, of which he had bit some part, to eat it after him. She would doe nothing but play the wanton when she was with him, and with the leer of smiling invitation, she would turn her eye aside upon him, as who would say, I even dye for the love of thee. Francion did observe it well enough, but he made as though he had not the least thought of it in the world; for this woman did so displease him for some imperfections which he had observed in her, that he could not but abhor to kisse her.
One day, to dive into the bottom of his heart, she smiling said unto him, Thou knowest not, on my faith, what a report is brought unto me of thee, which is noised over all the Country, it is, that thou are in love with me, and that thou hast knowledge enough to take upon thee another condition of life than that of a Shepherd, but that thou art glad to take upon thee that profession, to have the means to stay with me. You must take no notice, said Francion, of such Informers, they are but Mockers and Detractors; I know well enough that they speak not the truth. Say you so, replyed the Wife, why! Is it a thing impossible? No, said Francion, but that which dependeth on our will, is not always put into act, although it lyeth in our power. By this defence he set her farther off from the mark at which she aimed than she thought he would have done, and he seemed not to regard the rowling motion of her eyes which sparkled with lust in propounding to her self the sudden fruition of incomparable delights. The next morning her Husband being gone many miles from home, she determined with her self to make use of the opportunity, and whiles the Shepherd was in the fields, she took away his Bed, Sheets, and Coverlet, and hid them from him, so that when he was going to take his rest, finding all things removed out of his Chamber, he came [Page 20]unto her to demand where she intended he should lodge that night. O God, said she, I have carryed up all your bedding into the Garret to have it aired, where it must continue two or three days; In the mean time, if you will promise to lie quietly, and doe nothing to me, I will permit that you take some part of my bed. Francion, understanding well enough what it was that she would have, refused that offer, & said, for two or three nights he would be content to lye upon the grasse in the Grange. She finding that she was frustrated of her hopes in her first attempt, did resolve her self upon a second, and brought all the Shepherds bedding down again. About the middle of the night, she did sit up in a chair stark naked, and did begin to complain, and to call the Shepherd to her. He lay in a Chamber hard by, where distinctly he could hear her, and came quickly to her with a Candle lighted in his hand, to demand of her what she would have. Woe is me, said she, I came now from doing my easement, and such a feeblenesse hath taken me, that I am not able to return to my Bed, so that I am inforced to sit down here, I pray you to take me into your arms, and to carry me to bed, for it is impossible for me to put one foot before another. She prononnced her words faintly, and made many stops as she did speak them, and hanged down her head, so that Francion believed that she was sick in good earnest; He therefore did take her up so cleanly, that she touched not the ground with her toes, and carrying her to the Bed, He turned his face quite another way from hers, because, as he conceived, there came an ill smell from every part of her body. But she imbracing him with all the strength she had, and stretching forth her neck as far as ever she could, did prevail so far that she kissed his cheek. This Love-trick not pleasing him, he left her in her smock upon her Bed, and said unto her, lye down, and cover your self if you will, I have such a desire to sleep, that I cannot stay any longer. Go not from the prithee yet, she replyed, I will hire one too morow to keep thy sheep for thee, and thou shalt take thy full rest for the time which this night thou hast watched with me. What would you have me to doe? said he. Alas, said she, nothing but to keep me Company. How cruell you are! Come near unto me. He then advanced three steeps towards her, and she coming out of her bed did meet him, and did again imbrace him; but his flesh having an antipathy unto hers, he did thrust her from him, and smiling, said unto her, You are not so sick as you pretend your self to be, if you have any malady, it proceeds only from your fancy, and so let it goe for me. In the absence of your Husband you should desire no other company but only that of your Pillow. She did grow into a rage to hear those words, yet her disdain was not of force enough to turn into hatred the affection which she did bear unto him. She continued the good entertainment which she was accustomed to give him, and endeavoured as much as lay in her power to procure his favour. At the last, having a desire to deliver himself from her importunities, he dissembled that he did bear more good will unto her than heretofore he had done, and because his Master was returned, he acquainted her that she must take the resolution her self to come unto him one night when her Husband was asleep, to passe away some time in her Company. The Bargain being made, she was the most contented woman in the World, and propounded to her self that undoubtedly he would accomplish her desires.
But Francion, being not of the same mind as was her self, desired the Swine-heard, and the Herds-man, who lay over the Stables, to come and passe away one night in his Chamber, to see a Spirit, who failed not every night to come unto him to torment him. They made answer to him, that they would not come, for they had reason to be afraid of such beasts. Come boldly to me said Francion, you shall not receive the least prejudice. I believe it is the same Maid Servant which we had the other day, who comes to affright me. [Page 21]Doe you only provide your selves with good Rods to whip her soundly, that she may have a desire to return no more unto me. The two Drolls apprehending that news, were as glad as if they had been invited to a Wedding. They stayed in his Chamber, without making the least noise, having in their hands those armes which were necessary for the execution of the design. The poor inamoured Wife observing that her Husband according to his old custom was fast asleep, did softly rise from him, and going forth of her Chamber, she did doublelock the door, that, if peradventure he should wake, she might have the leisure to come away from Francion, and not be taken in the Deed, but might perswade him that she had been at the Privy.
Francion, who heard her coming, gave order to his Companions to make ready their forces, for the pretended Spirit was approaching. They were not deaf to his advertisements, for their Mistresse was no sooner entred into the Chamber, but they took up her smock, and did give her so many, and such cruel lashes, that the rudest hangman in the World did never so whip a Cutpurse, that would not promise him money to be more gently entreated by him. Perceiving that they were more than one who did prosecute her in this manner, she durst not cry out, nor speak the least word, for fear of being discovered, and for the shame she had to be taken out of her Bed. At the last (because that without any respite they so continued in their hot exercise, and all her body was pittifully torn) she could not forbear from crying out Help and Murder. Her Husband being awakened at that noise, and in amazement, not knowing from whence the voice did proceed, did goe out at another door of the Chamber, and not at that which his Wife had double locked, and came down into the Court to see what the businesse was. At the last Francion, having pitty of his Wife, did take the Swine heard by the Arm, to make him-understand that he had done enough. Thereupon he did leave off, and his Companion also; She stealing away, did open the door of her Chamber, and did lye down in her Bed as before. Her Husband perceiving that there was not any in the Court, did come back into the House, and advising with himself that, possibly, the noise which he heard might arise from the Shepherds Chamber, he softly did goe thither to know if he were asleep. The two Companions who held still their rods in their hands, did conceive that it was another Spirit, and having taken him by the Arm, they began to lay about him, as heretofore upon his Wife. He, feeling the smart, became suddenly outragious, and delivering himself from their hands, did strike them with his Fist with all the strength he had. They imagining to themselves that such heavy blows could not proceed from the hand of a mortal man, did believe that it was truly a Hobgoblin, so that they did assay to avoid his incounter, and did hide themselves on the other side of the Bed, where they might easily have been found, if they had been indeed pursued by a Spirit. Where are you? said the Labourer to Francion. He answered from his pallet, O my God, make all the hast you can away, Here are Spirits that do nothing else but torment me. Immediatly in a great fear he departed, and did believe what he Shepherd had told him, and having both locked and bolted his door, he did goe to bed to his Wife, who counterfeited her self to be very drousie, and did say, for her own part she did hear nothing at all. He made a short account, and declared only unto her, that he had been whipped by Spirits, who vanished away in a moment. She was glad to understand it, because he had a share in the punishment as well as her self, and this was some kind of comfort to her. The Labourer did much lament his poor Shepherd; who was exposed to the fury of those evil Spirits, and the next morning he enquired more particularly of him what were the torments he had endured. He invented such a number of them, that they drew tears from the eyes of all the family. But as for his enamoured Mistresse she was in a great doubt whether they [Page 22]were Spirits or living Creatures who had whipped her by his instigation. At the last she believed that all proceeded from his invention, because she observed in him a great change of the good humour in which he was at the last time when she spake unto him, when he consented to give her all content. He preached now nothing but Honour and Chastity, and did admonish her to be more faithfull to her Husband than hitherto she had been. She was inforced to obey his Instructions, although she failed not in her will to transgresse them.
After that time (observe but the ordinary opinion which men have constantly of Shepherds) Francion was believed to be a Magician, and that he held a communication with Spirits; Many times the peasants observed that he did talk to himself (as he was making his Verses) and because he had Poetick phrases which they could not undecstand, they imagined that he discoursed with some invisible Spirit. He had but little conference with those brutish people, unlesse when he had a desire to laugh, insomuch that all of them did impute his solitude to the custom of his damnable profession. He was observed to be experienced in diverse things which are beyond the apprehensions of Villagers. One day having heard some high discourse concerning Priests, he so expressed himself, that he caused admiration in the standers by, which made them believe that the Devil was his School-master.
By natural Magick he did many gallant things, and cured those that were sick, so miraculously, that almost every one did conceive that there was sorcery in it. Moreover, they did believe he had the knowledge to foretell what was to come, and could divine on all things. One time being in the Compaof some Citizens Daughers, and some Country wenches, after some devices of unprofitable, but inviting mirth (to gain himself authority) he said unto them, I will lay you a wager, that I will find out her amongst you all who is not a Maid. One of them immediatly made answer, Your knowledge will be here imployed in vain, for you may well say that there is not one amongst us all in this place who hath lost her honour. Speaking these words her countenance did something change, which was observed by Francion. Besides that, her redinesse to perswade him not to attempt to discover her who was unchast, did make him to believe that she her self was that person. This did the more incourage him to persecute his design, but for fear of giving offence, he would not point her out to all the world, who had lost her Maiden-head, and he would disclose it only to one of her Companions who was present. He therefore did speak it in her friends ear. I have found by my Art, that she who amongst all these Maids hath sinned by fornication, is the very same who did speak last of all unto me. I think not so, said the other. Francion replyed, There are none but she her self, and he who committed the fault with her that can give an assurance of it; but if you please, you may believe me as well as them. The rest of the company knew not that which was declared by him until eight days afterwards, at what time the said Girl was married to a Gardner of the Village. As she was in bed, not long afterwards her childing throws did begin to grow upon her, and she was delivered of a goodly Boy. At the same hour the same Maid who did know the prophecy of Francion, did publish it as a miracle, which did highly advance his reputation. It may be well believed that they did all admire his knowledge, but that which made the matter not so bad, as otherwise it would have been, was, that the Husband vowed that the Child was his own, and that his Wife would not take a Husband, without having first made tryal of him, for having seen a pattern of the cloath, she might try whether it were good or not, and if it did not please her, she might freely leave it to other Customers. It was added to this consideration, that it was a long time since she was of age to make love, and that a Maid is like a Tree which must be shaken before the [Page 23]fruits be ripe. The next morning Francion who something doubted of the truth of what he had spoken, did sing, So well the Gardner watred had his Ground.
There were some who did speak pleasantly that the Bridgroom was a good workman to have a child the first week, but those who expressed themselves more seriously, were amazed how his Wife could carry her great belly so well that it could not be discovered, but no doubt she used some artifice to conceal it.
The next morning one of the most stupid fellows in the Village believing there was nothing unknown to Francion did send unto him, to know who was he amongst all his servants who had stollen from him a piece of Pork which he had preserved in his Cellar? for sure enough he was, that it was not stolen by strangers. Francion had at this time lost the reputation he had gained, if he had not assisted himself with a subtle invention. He did therefore pull out of his Pocket a piece of a Torch, and said, that in the composure of it he had mingled druggs of that Virtue with the wax, that when it was lighted there was none could blow it out, but the thief only who had stollen the thing concerning which the disputation did arise. You must come (said be, speaking to the servants) one after another into this Chamber where I will be alone. I will bring you all to your tryal. Immediatly he entred into the room, and the first who followed him being innocent, did not counterfeit, but did blow as strongly as he could, thinking to justifie himself, and not relying on that which Francion had spoken, he did blow the Torch out; at which Francion was infinitely amazed, and in a confusion replyed unto him, My Friend, you see what my Torch doth make me to believe, I will say no more, doe you goe your way and make not the apparence of any thing, and bid your Companions to make hast in, one after the other. He being gone Francion did light his torch again by the means of a Flint, that by conterition sparkled out fire. After the first, another of the servants came, to whom arrived the self same fortune, as to the former, and so it hapned to the others, for the Torch had no Ingredient at all in it, that could make it resist the force of their breath. Neverthelesse those who came forth, were put all to their interrogatories concerning what passed, but they would not speak the least word in the world, but attended the end of the tryal, and did not so much as communicate what was done to one another.
Those who were in the House would fain have seen all the ceremony of Francion, but he gave an expresse charge that no persons should enter into the place where he was, but those only whom he was to examine, because, he said, he could not prosecute his enterprise but very privately. The last whom he was to examine was not so hardy as the others, for he had not so clean a Conscience, he did blow so softly. that he made the flame of the Torch hardly to tremble. Francion perceiving by it, that he undoubtedly was the guilty person, did goe to look out the Master of the House, and told him that he had nothing to doe to acquaint him whether his Torch were blown out or not, but only did assure him that he who came last to blow was the thief that had stollen away his Pork. The Labourer sent to the house where his Servants Wife did lodge, and found that she was then putting into the Pot a piece of that Pork which her Husband had stollen. He was convinced of the crime, and Francion highly commeded for his knowledge, and recompensed with some money, which at that time was very wellcome to him.
He afterwards was so believed by every one to be one of the greatest Diviners in the World, that being to travell, and the way very difficult to find out, he very civilly demanded of a Man (who knew every [Page 24]turn on the rode thereabout) which was his readiest way, he could receive no other answer from him, but Ha, Ha, you doe well to mock at such poor Ignorant Men as my self, Do you ask the way of me, who know the whole World your self, and all that is done in it? Having spoke those words, he left him, and Francion meeting with no man else of whom he might learn the right way, did wander so far out of it, that he was inforced to take up his lodging in a Wood for that Night.
We have made mention before, that when he made Verses, he would speak so punctually, that those who heard him did believe that he held Discourse with some familiar Spirit. His Mistress at the same time had the same belief: Oftentimes she would say unto her self, This young fellow is of a jovial complexion, and inclined to love, I do not well know how it comes to passe that he doth refuse the Courtesie which I have offered him. If I were one of the foulest Slutts in the world, yet such a fellow as he is, should be glad, me-thinks, sometimes to have me to abate the beat of his concupiscence. What mystery is there in it, that he should so much undervalue me? It necessarily must fall out, that he hath some other Mistresse on whom he doth discharge the extravagancies of his fourth Concoction, which doth trouble the repose of his Spirits, and his Bloud.
Thus did she argue with her self; but she could not discover so much as one Nest amongst all those Birds to which he was accustomed to retire himself; for he carried his affairs the most privatly in the world. One evening she came softly to him, as he was lying on the grasse, and in a frolick humor, making a Sonnet which began thus,
He oftentimes repeated that couplet aloud, being not able to finish the Stanza. His Mistresse thinking that he did speak to some Girl whom he had in his Arms, shot forth her discontented eye as far as ever she could, to find who was that Maid that was so happy; but perceiving not any one near unto him, and that he stretched forth his armes in the remembrance of some passed pleasures, she reflected on a thought which deserves to be recorded in this Story. On the Sunday before, she had heard the Curat affirm in his Pulpit, That there were Magitians who did lie with Devils transformed into Women, that were called Succubae; She immediately believed that Francion had then with him one of those gallant Mistresses, because he pronounced words more amorous than the former, and lively expressed all that which can be spoken in the full enjoying of a Beauty.
After that time, she did take no more thought to understand with what Woman he asswaged the desires of his youth, and looked not upon him, but with a horror onely, thinking that he had alwayes a Devill at his tayl. And she then believed her self, That it was his Succubae that did so last her, because she had so great a desire to lye with him.
To reflect a little on these last gallantries, They were contrived on purpole to punish Vice. It was well done to whippe this inconstant Countrey Wife, who forgot the Faith which she had promised to another, and would have her Servant to commit Adultery. It is true enough, that she was disagreeable, and that her Beauties had not attractions enough for the curious eye of Francion; but let us not look so [...]uch upon the Cause, the Effect is always good.
As for the contrivances which remarkably expresse themselves, they [Page 25]may serve to instruct those who have failed, to make them acknowledge their errors: Such was the transgression of the Maid who forfeited her honour; and of the Servant who stole that from his Master, the theft whereof Francion did discover. In this the greatest Criticks will be inforced to approve his Actions.
As for the rest which is here contained, I doe not much lay to my heart their choler or their complaints; for I describe only those Vices which are commonly practised, and make mention of no act which hath not been committed; and we may see how Ingenious Spirits are deluded, and circumvented with fond Inventions, when only Ignorants and Ideots are condemned to be surprized by them.
THE TENTH BOOK OF THE COMICAL HISTORY OF FRANCION.
IT is true that the stiles Comical and Satyrical, are as profitable as they are delightfull. For your Example, you may here see all things represented to the life. All actions doe appear without dissimulation, when in Books more serious, there are certain respects which doe hinder the Authors from expressing themselves with so much liberty, and this is the Reason that Histories are so imperfect, and filled more with Fables than with Truth. If we will be curious, as in effect we ought to be, where can it better be expressed than here? I am of opinion, that in this Book you may find the French Tongue most intire; and that I have not omitted those words which the vulgar doe use, which neverthelesse is not to be seen throughout the whole Book, for in those passages which are more immodest, we are not allowed the liberty to make use of them; neverthelesse oftentimes the wantonesse of those humble conceits are more delightfull than those which are more high. Nay, which is more, I have represented to the life, as much as possibly may be, all the humours and actions of those great personages whom mystically I have here inserted, and my adventures can be no lesse agreeable than many others which are highly esteemed. I make freely this confession, for being supported by many proofs, it will passe with the more authority. There are many who will read this Book, who understand not what it meaneth, believing that to make a Book compleat, we are only to heap words on words, without regarding any other thing, but only clapping in of some odd adventures to delight the Idiots. Neverthelesse I have received sufficient advertisements from several persons, who say that they apply themselves to understand whatsoever is good herein. Some doe dislike one passage, and some another, so that there is nothing in the whole book which hath not both been praised and blamed. If I would I might have done like the Painter who hid himself behind his Picture, and having heard the different Judgements of the People, did correct it according to their directions, and instead of an accomplished Picture, did make it at least a ridiculous Monster. It is better to leave things as they were at first, and expose them at adventure to please whom they may, seeing amongst such a diversity of narrations, it cannot be but some parcels of them will please one or other. How is it possible universally to please all men? For a letterd man who hath been bred up in the University doth love to read the Histories of a Scholar, a mongrell Gentleman who hath had his education only [Page 2]amongst Doggs and Horses will not be taken with the same story, and will delight themselves only with those subject which have a reference to his humour and condition. If he who hath an amorous inclination, delights to look upon a sort of intrigues and delicate devices which are practised by passionate Lovers, another who only mindeth war & the battail, or a pompous, or a grave discourse will believe all those things to be frivolous; but let us not perplex our selves among the fantasies of other men, but take pleasure where we find it, and pursue the order of our History.
Let us now represent that Francion is become amorous of the Daughter of a rich Merchant, who came to live for a short time in his Country-house with all his Family; And although he desired to sport himself sometimes with one, and sometimes with another, he professed it was without prejudice to the Love which he did bear to Nays, and that he might easily be pardoned those faults, seeing in the calamity into which he was reduced, he had need of some diversion to solace his Spirits.
Fortune so pleased that the Father of Jocunda (who was she whom now in his affections he served) did send for him to make him in his Garden some delicate borders, in which he was very expert, for he had read sometimes in the books of gardening, and to tell you the truth his Spirit was like a Merchant of every sort, and at his leisure was provided with all manner of drugs. He was busie in the Garden when the Daughter of the Merchant came to him to content her curiosity in seeing his workmanship. A thousand times he blest the hour in which he did put on the habite of a Peasant, because he had delighted himself with many Maids, whom otherwise he should never have approached, & which was more over gave him the opportunity to be so near to his Jocunda, who had a Book in her hand, on which sometimes she would look, & sometimes on the young Labourer. What good book is that, Madam, said he, finding no other ocrasion to accost her? She made answer, when I shall tell it you, what good will it doe you, you will only hear a Name unknown, which will seem strange unto you, for you and other Peasants who seldom, or never read in all your lives, do believe that there is no other Book in the world but your Manuels only, I am not, said Francion, of that belief with others, I know there are many sorts of Books, and there are many good ones which I have read. This is a miracle, said Jocunda, But, well, to satisfie your curiosity, I will inform you that this is a Book which treateth of the loves of Shepherds, and Shepherdesses, Did you ever see any such Book? Yes, replyed Francion, I assure you the perusal of them is very delightfull, especially to those who are in the Country, as you are, for you are infinitely glad to see those delights in effect which are there represented to you by discourse only. Oh how much, said she, are you deceived to believe that, for if the patience of my curiosity did not lead me to see the end of the adventures which are here described. I should not have the leisure to read it all over, for I delight altogether in reality, which I cannot find in any of the Histories in this Book, although peradventure there may be some apparences for it. Shepherds are here as Philosophers, and make love in the same manner as doe the most accomplished Courtiers in the world. But to what purpose is this? Why doth not the Author give to these personages the quality of Knights well educated? He makes them the miracles of eloquence and prudence, which in men of their condition is prodigious. A History true or sabulous ought to represent things as near to Nature as possibly may be, otherwise it serves but as a tale only to entertain Children in a Chimney Corner, and not ingenious spirits whose apprehension pierceth through all things. We may see here the method and order of the world turned topsie turvy. I could wish that one or other would make a Book of the loves of Knights, and cause them to speak like Clowns, and to deport themselves in that simple manner as they doe in the Country. It will appear [Page 3]no more strange than this doth, which is directly opposite unto it.
Francion, perceiving by her Discourse that she was one of those brave Spirits which he had been accustomed most passionatly to court, was the most contented Man in the world to lodge his affections in so worthy a Subject, and not to lose the occasion to entertain her, he did speak unto her in these words, That he was much defective in his judgement, who would not approve the reasons which she did allege. And I do confesse, said he, that you can take no pleasure in reading of that Book. Howsoever, I can assure you, that in these Villages there can sometimes be found some as able to make love, with as much civillity, prudence and discretion, as those who doe live in the most flourishing Courts of the World. The example (said Jocunda) is so rarely seen, that it will never make up a number sufficient to authorize my Book of Shepherds. Well, said Francion, and smiled, I my self can assure you that you shall find here in this Country, Shepherds who are accomplished Lovers; and for my self, who am a Shepherd, (I will speak it without vanity) if I should be numbred in the same rank with them, I would deport my self without the least distaste. I make no doubt of it (answered Jocunda) but it would then be very difficult for you to find a Country Maid of your temper; there are none here but very coarse and homely Creatures. You speak of the Country Girls, said Feancion, For my self, I throw not my eyes upon them; but here are others who are not onely worthy to be beloved by an accomplished Shepherd, but also by a most accomplished Courtier. And I am well able to maintain this Discourse, because I have the happinesse to see you. Oh God! said Iocunda, Truly I have been much deceived until this present; for I thought that flatterers were no where to be found, but at the Court only: but you can flatter here as much as they do there. Francion replyed, Truth is spoken by all. Iocunda did then leave him, to keep her Mother Company, who walked alone. She was astonished to hear a Shepherd to discourse so well, & many times believed that it was a Dream; but her Admiration did far more increase, when she heard him about ten of the clock in the Evening, to sing and play on his Lute under her window. She knew who it was by some words in his Song, where he did beseech her not to despise the Shepherd to whom she had spoken. It was a thing which did appear unto her to be truly wonderfull, that a Man of his Condition should make so good Verses as were those which he rehearsed; and moreover, that he did sing and play on the Lute, as well as the Masters that made profession of it.
The dull Peasants to whom these perfections had been shown, did not so much admire him, as she did, whose excellent Spirit was known in all things. But all this was nothing to the worth of the Letter of Love which the next morning she received from him; where she found all the richest Flowers of Eloquence. He used no other artifice to have it conveyd to her hand, but to put it in a little basket made of Rushes, which a young Girl did present unto her, as it were, in the minority of her Duty.
Her Spirit was in great unquietnesse what she should do in the pursute of her new Lover, whose Condition was no wayes pleasing to her. If his Merit had not qualified her discontent, she would not have been pleased at his boldnesse to send a Letter of Love unto her. She had a great desire to understand where he had been brought up to so many qualities of a Gentleman. And this was the Cause that she did go forth alone at the back-door into the adjacent fields, and permitted him the liberty to speak unto her, having met her in a place not farre from her Fathers house, where he did feed his flock.
After that he had given her the time of the day, and witnessed the joy he received to have so happily incountred her, she said unto him, Gentle Shepherd, I do believe, that to please me you will now give me the proofs of that [Page 4]which you have told me, that you are as accomplished a Lover, as any who have their being in the City or the Court. Francion replyed, It is not any delight I take to be a Shepherd, but a Necessity that doth constrain me to this Condition of life. I cannot believe that, said Iocunda. Francion replyed, There is nothing more true, than that your Beauties have the power to transform me into any thing, I should be sorry that any other Subject than the most beautifull one in the world, should cause me to disgrace my self into the liberty to do what I have done. I know well enough that the baseness of my Conditiō doth much hinder me in the obtaining of your favour. I do therefore use my utmost endeavour to repair that defect by mine excessive affection, with which I hope well to deserve it. Iocunda smiling at this discourse, as in some disdain of him, did immediatly change the compliment, and demanded of him, where he had been bred up. He promised her, that on the next day, if she pleased to take the pains to come to the same place, where he then was, he would declare unto her all along that which she desired to know, having at that present no desire to speak unto her concerning any thing of which he had not before deliberated with himself according to the Rules of exactest judgement.
Staying a little longer with him, she informed her self of divers particulars. She told him in what a wild fame he lived over all the Country, and that the Peasants bad almost caused her to believe, that he had gained by the Magick art those perfections which he had.
The day following they came both to the appointed place; Iocunda challenged Francion of his promise, which he readily accomplished, speaking to her in this manner, If you should not have intreated me to relate unto you who I am, it were necessary that of my self I should inform you, if that I do desire that you should regard the affection which I do bear unto you, I therefore do declare unto you, That I am a Gentleman of one of the most Noble Families in France, and having some times since seen you in the City where you are accustomed to live, your attractions did so vanquish me, that I resolved with my self to take the habit of a Villager, knowing that you were comming hither, that so I might made my self known unto you without giving suspition unto any. Having recited this Fiction to her, to oblige her the more to respect him, he inchanted her with a thousand proofs of an extreme love; And she not doubting but that he was of great qualitie, did not fail to assure him, that the pains he had taken should be well recompenced, and although he was in that rustick habit, yet he had the apparence of a gallant young Man, insomuch that she did bear almost as much affection to him, as if he had been covered with the richest apparel that the greatest Courtiers do wear.
The assurances of reciprocal love being given on one side and the other, they discoursed afterwards on divers particulars. Iocunda related to Francion many bold stories, by which the Country people would have perswaded her that he did practise the black art, but Francion who would not deceive her, as he had done the ignorant Peasants, did make known to her the greatest part of the Causes for which these Rumors were dispersed amongst the multitude, and she received much contentment at the pleasant relation of them.
The hour of their departure being come, before they did bid Farewell to one another, they deliberated with what Inventions for the time to come they should assist themselves, because that Iocunda could not come every day out of her Fathers house to speak with Francion, but one or other would be apt to suspect & discover their affairs. She determined therfore to counterfeit her self sick, to give an occasion to her Lover to come unto her, who (according to the Vulgar opinion) could give a suddain Remedy for all manner of maladies. This being resolved upon, they took leave of one another, and returned to their habitations.
[Page 5] Jocunda on the same day did begin to put her design in execution, and complained to her Mother that she began to be grieved with the cholick. Her Mother no sooner heard of it, but she pittied her with her heart, she flattered her with her Tongue, she stroaked her with her hand, and caused her to lie down upon the bed. If there had been any Physicians near unto her, they had immediatly been sent for. Before any thought was had of Francion, the Tenant who farmed the house of her Husband, said unto her, that it was expedient for him to send for him to give her Physick; The Father of Iocunda did reply, that he would not trust the life of his only child to such a Mountebanck. Why say you so, said the Farmer, do you fear that he cannot as well recover your Daughter, as he hath cured all other persons, to whomsoever he hath given Physick? Believe me he is a Devil incarnate, I know not that thing which he is not able to perform; He knows more than the Curate himself of our Parish, and at his pleasure can decline Victus over him. The Father of Iocunda giving credit at last to the assurances of many persons concerning the knowledge of Francion, did consent that he should be sent for. After he had seen the sick person, and felt her pulse, he took a little Viol out of his Pocket, in which he had a certain O [...]l which he warmed, and dipped a linnen cloath in it, to put it upon her stomach. The hour was so favourable to him, that at that time there were not any nere unto the bed, so that pretending to apply his remedy unto her, he took the boldnesse to feel her breasts, And that it might be believed that he had extraordinary experience in all things, she not long afterwards told her Mother that she found her self in much ease, and seemed to have a great mind to be merry. Turning therefore to the Shepherd, she said unto him, Shepherd, I have heard it reported that you do play well upon the Lute, shall I have that power over you, as to intreat you to give me a lesson, or two. Francion replyed, you have an absolute command over me, although I know I am not able to give you any pleasure by playing on my Lute, howsoever I will use the best Art I have, rather than fall into a disobedience to your commands. He would have gone for his Lute himself, but they would not put him to so much trouble, and sent one of their Grooms to his lodging for that purpose, when he began to touch his Lute, all the world were ravished at the harmony of it, and especially Iocunda. Her Father and Mother desiring nothing more with greater passion than her health and contentment, observing that she took delight in the Musick of the Shepherd, did invite him to come the next day to passe away the time with her. They were then abroad to take care for the affairs of their Husbandry, and this was the time in which Francion had the leisure to testifie his Love unto his Mistresse, and she was so much overcome, that she made a promise to him to satisfie his desires.
They found in the fields invitations enough wherewith to delight and detain themselves, but that Evening Iocunda returned with her Father and Mother into the City. All things there did seem to be quite contrary unto her design, for the house had high Walls on both sides, and the gates were always locked, She did write to Francion who stayed in the Village, in what a strait prison she was locked up, and assured him that nevertheless, if he could by any means come secretly to her with the Wagoner of their Village, he should for his part receive the best entertainment that he possibly could expect. Francion studdied a while what he had to do, and at the last concluded on this invention. The Waggoner of the place some few days afterwards was to carry Hay to the Merchants house, he resolved to hide himself in the Waggon, and in the mean time, he in a Letter acquainted Iocunda with the design he had. The Waggoner was of a simple and dull disposition, and Francion made him believe what he pleased. My honest Friend (said he unto him) you know that I am very curious. I have heard often a report of the beauty of the house in which your Master dwelleth in the City, I have a great desire to see it, but I know [Page 6]not which way in the world to give my self that contentment, but only by your means, you must carry me thither in your Waggon; I will, said the Waggoner, with all my heart, for Francion was one of his best friends, because he often would make him drink at his Masters house, and in other places; Doe you come to me, said he, when I am to goe, you are known so well, that I believe they will not shut the Gates against you. I am known too well, said Francion, and that is the reason why I will not goe in that manner as you doe speak. I would so go that not any one might see me, for I have a great desire to observe the platform of the house, and to take from thence a modell, which in some other way may be beneficial to me; but your Master must know nothing at all of it, I am advised to hide my self in the Hay, which you are to carry thither, it will be a happy means to accomplish my intention; I like well of it, said the Waggoner, and it shall not be my fault if you put it not in practice. For the rest, when we are to come back, I will pluck the leaves from the Vines, that you may the better passe undiscovered. It will be well done, said Francion, provided that you doe keep your promise. The Waggoner assured him of his fidelity, and the hour being come to carry his Hay, he advertised him that he was ready to drive away. Francion having delivered his Flock to some other to keep, and being accommodated with the best habiliments which the place could afford him, did goe to meet the Waggoner, and found him according to his wish in a Lane, where he had the leisure to hide himself in the Waggon, that no man might perceive him. In the Evening he arrived at the house of Iocunda. The Waggoner taking out all the Hay himself, did cause Francion to hide himself in a private place, where he did lock him up, which was unadvisedly done both by the one and the other, For if they had been perceived, it would have been reported that they had a design to have robbed the house, and it might so have fallen out that they might have suffered for it by the hand of Justice. But Francion was resolved to make tryal how far his good Fortue would extend.
In the mean time Iocunda was in the greatest inquietudes in the world, not knowing whether he was come, or not, She could not find any means to be satisfied in the truth thereof, for it was not discretion she thought to enquire of the Waggoner for him, fearing thereby to give him any cause of suspition, and she her self was in doubt if her Lover had hid himself in the Hay, or not, without his knowlege. At the last, all the world being retired, she did repair to the place where he was, knowing that he could no where else so privately conceal himself. He was already gone forth from his place of retirement, to become his own Scout, when she came into the room with a Candle in her hand, and knew him, We need not to demand if they did kisse at their first salutations. They embraced each other above half an hour, with so excessive a Joy, that it took from them the use of their Tongues. Being come out of this extasie, they deliberated with themselves where they should passe away that night. Iocunda was unwilling to bring Francion to her own Chamber, fearing he might be perceived to goe up the stairs, or that some other misfortune might arrive. They continued therefore in the same place where they were, and Francion did spread abroad the cloath that covered the Mule upon the Bottles of Hay, that no dust or other inconvenience might annoy his Mistresse that lay on them. We may easily believe that they took as much pleasure on that hard lodging, as if they had been lying on a Bed of Down. During one of the truces which they made in their amorous war, Francion related to her the fine invention with which he had abused the Waggoner, who was gone to sleep in another part of the house, believing that he intended to passe away that night in the Court, in beholding the beauty of the buildings by the light of the Stars. Iocunda on the other side acquainted him, that (not to lye that night in her Mothers Chamber as her custome was) [Page 7]she pretended the immoderate heat of that season, to the end that she might be permitted to lie alone in a little Chamber which had a door that opened into the Court, by which she might come unto him, without traversing the length of it. Taking care for the time to come, they propounded divers ways to themselves, how afterwards they might see one another, as the Spirits of Lovers are subtle to apprehend that which may render their pleasures more durable.
The best Invention which they found, and that which they determined to follow, was, That Francion should put himself into some Merchants service, who, understanding his merit, would be glad to make choice of him, and to imploy him for his Factor sooner than any other: Iocunda consented that it should be so, attending the time that he should discover himself who he was, and he accorded to retire himself from the Village, where he began to distaste those dull, yet uncertain Spirits; howsoever, he desired not to continue in the Condition of a Merchants Factor, but for a time only. He acquainted his Mistresse that he had need of mony, and she gave him all that she had, being not able to deny him any thing. He partaked with her in all the delights that could be imagined, when not long afterwards, behold a little Star, the Van-Currier of the Day, did give unto them a sign to retreat. At that instant, as they were taking leaves one of another, there was a man who knocked very violently at the great Gate, and immediately one of the Porters who was awakened at the noise, did come to open it. The man being in arms, did say arrogantly unto him, Friend, Go and advertise thy Master that there is a great Tumult in the City, and demand of him, If it be not his pleasure to send forth a man with a Musket into the Market-place, according to the Commandment which I give you from my Captain? Make hast unto thy Master; Run I say, I will attend his answer, Fear not that any shall enter in, I will guard the house my self.
The Porter immediatly did go up to his Masters Chamber, and knocked at the door as loud as he could; but because he was fast asleep, the door could not be opened. In the mean time the Corporal at the gate, who was one of the Citizens, and in his own conceit more glorious than Caesar, to see himself equipped with other arms than his own, which were a pair of Cizzers and a goose, did begin to kindle red with Impatience to attend so long at the Merchants gate, because he had business in other places. He did grow into a rage, and alleging that they did not give him that respect which was due unto him, he did begin to swear like a Nobleman; and perceiving that although he called never so loud, no answer would be given to him, he did go away full of spight and indignation; protesting that the Master of the House should soundly pay for it.
Iocunda durst not as yet return unto her Chamber, for fear the Porter, or some one else should meet her in the way. She conceived ther was a fair opportunity for Francion to be gon, because the gate was open; for whatsoever design he had otherwise, it would be a hard task for him to convey himself so secretly into the Waggon that no body could perceive him. He did approve her counsail, and at that instant he did set forward to traverse the Court: when he was on the great Causey which did lead unto the gate he had so violent a fear, that the Groom comming down the stairs should descry him, that he began to run with all the force he had, to be the sooner out of the house; But not observing that the threshold at the gate was very high, he lifted not up his legs as he was to passe over it, wherefore he fell all along, and thought that at once he had broken both his leggs and his arms. Iocunda who saw him fall, was very sorry for it; neverthelesse she durst not approach to his relief, but did repair to her own Chamber, where she did go to bed, and the next Noon complained of her excessive Sloth, as if she had slept away a whole night, and half a day together.
[Page 8] Francion did rise, but not without much pain, and being hardly able to uphold himself, he leaned against the Wall as he passed by it. He did well to be gone; for the Groom, having received a charge from his Master to go with his arms to the Market-place, did come forth immediatly after him. He did walk as well as he could, but it was so faintly, that at every step he was ready to fall down on the ground, when at last casting his eyes towards the street, he perceived a Chair with Elbows, from whence he saw a Man to rise, who, although he appeared as lame as himself, yet he did make hast to be gone with all the speed that possibly he could. Truly (said he) I shall not be so disdainfull, nor so proud as you are, I willingly will sit down and rest my self in that chair, if once I can come to it. Having spoke those words, he did inforce himself to approach unto it, and so much prevailed, that he came to it, and sate down on a soft Cushion, which at that time was not unwelcome to him.
While Francion is there resting himself, I must account unto you who he was whose place he possessed. He was an old Man, full of the Gout, & the most wicked one in the whole City, or peradventure the Country, although it swarmed with such Companions. It was his design to plant division amongst all, &, if he could, amongst the greatest Personages. He had a plot at that time upon the Signior, who not long before was invested with the government of that place, whō he had more reason to reverence, seeing that not one in the whole City complained of him; But the only Cause was, that he had always a wretched disposition to speak evil of Magistrates. It was known well enough, that he only did detract him, to follow his old and vicious Custom; For he had never so much as once seen him, & had ne'r heard of any of his actions, whether they were good or evill. The faults which he imputed to him, were those which he had observed in other Governors: He conceived, that being of the same quality, he must partake also of the same Imperfections. It is true, he had great familiarity with a Personage whose Authority was not to be disputed of; And to beget in him an enmity against the Governor, he one day informed him, that he knew this Governor to be one of the most treacherous persons in the world; he coundesign to deliver up the City to a Stranger. This accusation of the gouty Old man was believed as an Oracle, because he did know so well to disguise his wickednesse, that one would take him to be a Man filled with all prudence. He moreover affirmed, that he had heard by divers Citizens of some pernitious design that was on foot.
It so hapned, that the Governor, for some particular & good design, had that evening been in all the Streets of the City with his Guard. He who received the advertisement of his malicious person, did observe it, and infallibly believed that he had a desire to accomplish some bad Intention; Wherefore, having assembled the greatest part of the City, and declared to them what he heard, he took counsel with them to exhort the rest of the Citizens to be armed, & to stand upon their guard to prevent the Mischief that was to come. In the several quarters of the City they were commanded to repair to the Corps de Guard, so that all was in a tumult. The Governor hearing this, was come forth more strong and better accompanyed than before, to understand for what cause they did so riotously assemble themselves, without his particular Instructions. If the fury of the People had not been restrained by the wisedom of some amongst whom the false Report of this Treachery was spred, they undoubtedly had thrown themselves upon the Governour, and cut him in pieces. The gouty old man, to excite them thereunto, did stand at his Window, and cryed out, Liberty, Liberty, Gentlemen hang up that Wicked man, who would sell your Fortunes and your Lives at once: But the voice of the wisest Magistrates having more power than his own, did tie up the hands of the most mutinous personages [Page 9]The Governor had notice of it, who testified nothing but his intire affection to the publick; Neverthelesse some of the Inferiour Officers, who troubled every quarter, did still persist to advertise the Citizens to stand upon their guard, desiring that every one might partake in the Combustion. One of these men was come to the house of the Merchant, as before I have mentioned.
The Governor at last, who understood of the Seditious exhortations of the gouty man, and was fully advertised that it was he who had kindled the fire amongst all the people, was resolved to send for him, to chastise him according to his desert. This Commission was given to two of his people, who had been at his house, to acquaint him that their Master understanding that he was a man of a pregnant apprehension, and mature Counsel, desired that he would come to him, to assist him in giving some restraint unto the Commotion of the People. He would believe nothing at the beginning, but they made so many serious protestations to him, that at last, conceiving to himself that the Governor knew nothing of those words which he had spoke against him, he flattered himself with a belief, that possibly it might be that he would be glad to assist himself with his advise. Propounding then unto himself the welfare and the honour which thereupon would redound unto him, he resolved with himself not to refuse his Invitation. He thereupon permitted that the two men should put him in an Elbow chair, which they had brought for that purpose, and willingly he suffered himself to be carried to that place, whither they could never have brought him but by force. They had carried him a great way, when a Citizen by chance did meet with those who carried him, and spake softly in the ear of one of them, The Governour is not now in the place where you left him, he is gone to the Castle, conduct the old Knave thither: He, who had better ears than they conceived, did readily understand those words, which caused him to conjecture some sinister event did attend him. Before they did carry him respectfully as a man of State and Quality, but they now conceived that he should not be so well intreated when he was to come to the Castle of the City; Neverthelesse he sate very quiet in the Chair, and knowing that all the words in the world were unprofitable in his misfortune, he pretended to fall fast asleep, and began to snore. His bearers being not accustomed to carry so heavy a burden, had their arms extremely wearied, and in great drops their sweat did abundantly fall from their faces; so that being at the corner of the street where Iocundaes Father lived, it being an unfrequented place, they had a desire to repose themselves, and being gone into a house of Resort to quench their thirst, they drank a draught or two extraordinarily, imagining that the man would not so suddenly awake, and if he should awake, he would never have the desire to run away; or if he had the desire, yet he had not the power to put it in performance, his leggs being swollen with the Dropsie, and his feet and toes tyed into knots by the Gout; but they were deceived, for they no sooner were departed from him, but he knew well enough how to use his limbs, fearing the anger of the Governor, and left that place empty, which Francion filled.
The two Conductors having drank sufficiently, did return to their Office, and did not consider whether it were the right man or no who was in the Chair, because there was a Curtain about it, by the means whereof Francion was concealed; for they could see nothing of him but the tops of his toes. They undertook their charge again, and brought him away chearfully, the Wine having given new forces to them. Francion said not a word, fearing to stop them, and being very glad to be carried into any place whatsoever, because he could not travel on foot by reason of his late bruises. He said within himself, These Fellows, no doubt, will carry me to the Hospital, instead of the sick man that is run away, It is no great matter, I shall do better there than in the [Page 10]streets, where my feeblenesse would constrain me to continue. If my fall hath done me any harm, I shall have there the advice of the Chirurgion. The men carryed him all the while without speaking one word to him, taking him for the gouty old man, whom they would not waken. When they were in the Castle, they did carry him up into a Chamber, without looking on him, desiring with all speed to impart unto their Master that they had fullfilled his Commandment, for fear they should be checked for their delay.
The Governour having spoken to them, did take the pains to come to see him with one of his Gentlemen, and because he never saw the gouty old Man, and never heard whether he were old or young, he mistook Francion for him. Taking him then by the arm, and shaking him very strongly, he said unto him, There is but little respect in you, Sir, and lesse honesty; Why doe you not rise to doe your reverence to those who are in authority over you. Francion being not able to stand on his Leggs, did salute him no otherwise, but with a nod only of his head. The Governour said unto him, How! Doth your Gout hold you so obstinately? I shall quickly rid you of it, I warrant you. I have not only the Gout, said Francion, but Rivers of afflictions, I am afraid you will not so quickly make them to glide away, say what you will, for the springs from whence they are derived will be never dry. The Governour interrupted him, and said, For bear that discourse, I sent not for thee to passe away the time in such unprofitable complaints. Tell me, Art not thou a perfidious, and a wicked disturber of the publick peace? The people have lived in much quiet under my protection, which was so agreeable to them, that they could not complain of any of my actions, but thou, who desirest to set the whole City on a flame to satisfie thy inordinate desire, hast raised a dangerous tumult. What willt thou allege for thy own defence? willt thou yet affirm that thou hadst not a design to trouble the repose of the Inhabitants, to cause me to be either killed or driven away from this place? Come hither, and declare unto me who it was that did induce thee to it. Hast thou found any ill carriage during the time of my Government? Is it for any particular offence which I have done thee? I doe not remember that I ever gave thee any cause to be offended at me. Francion hearing all this discourse, and being not able to apprehend the reason of it, did at the last imagin that they did but make sport with him, for the Governour spoke not with the countenance of an angry man. His mind was not so sick as his body, and the good adventure which he did meet with that night, did render him very joyfull, he therefore determined with himself to make as good pastime with the Governour, as the Governour did with him. To answer to all your points, said he, I tell you, that I would have set all this City in a Tumult, because nothing is more agreeable to me than to see it in such on estate. The He Neighbour now enters into the house of his Female Neighbour, and she goes into the house of her next Neighbour; Lovers enter into those places, the doors whereof they before durst not look upon. In this confusion, those who are gallant spirits have the opportunity to play boldly, and at all adventure. Do not believe that I do bear unto you any hatred at all, I never knew what hatred was, although, not to dissemble, I have subject enough to be angry with you, because you doe not here establish one Ordinance which is necessary: What Ordinance is that? said the Governour; The best and the most just one in the world, replyed Francion, It is for the time to come, that Women should once a year goe stark naked quite through the City, that so the Inhabitants may feed their eyes with the sight of a desirable object, for what reason have they to cover and hide themselves with so much care? Is there not as great an absurdity in it, as possible can be imagined? They doe show themselves naked in particular to every one, one after another, And what danger can there be, so to shew themselves, when we [Page 11]shall be all together? I assure my self that you will allege unto me that we all looking on them, we shall better mark those imperfections which they have, for two eyes see more than one, and this will be to their prejudice. But it may be you have a desire to affirm, that we ought not to look upon their naked bodies, but only one by one, that so we may all think we are the particular enjoyers of that happinesse. You can allege no other reasons but these, and these are imperfect one [...] enough, for it is well known what it is that we so much doe desire to see in Women, and the fine inventions of graver men, are to no effect. For the Women, you ought not to take their part so much, as any ways to procure the disadvantage of Men, who have more resemblance unto you. The Governour knew not whether he had best to laugh, or to be angry at this delicate Oration, and made so much to the purpose, in relation to that which he had spoken. Neverthelesse he did speak to Francion in this manner, Observe what I say, and doe not think to escape by playing the Fool, for I will speedily cause you to be apprehended, I speak in good earnest to you.
On those words there entred some of the Counsellors of the City, who demanded of the Governour if he had sent for the Gouty Delinquent. He made answer to them, See where he is, but I conceive him to be either a Fool, or a Counterfeit, I cannot get an answer from him that hath any reason in it. One of the company demanded of him, Who is he that brought that Man unto you? Do you take him for that Gouty person whom we come to demand? he is as much that Man, as I am the King of Spain. The Governour said, that he was then abused, and that he was brought unto him for that Man. Wherefore he called those men to him who did conduct him thither, and demanded of them wherefore they had deceived him, for he was not the same person of whom he had spoken to them. They turning their eyes towards him, did assure him, that they did not bring that Man to him, but another, who was very lame, and antient. The Devil then, said the Governour, hath carryed him away, and put this Fellow in his place. Every one did exercise his Judgement on the mistake, and told him all with one voice, that he alone could satisfie him from whence the error did proceed. What need you to be so perplexed? said Francion, He who was set in the chair is fled away, and the desire which I had to rest my self, did make me to take his place.
The Porters were then checked for their negligence, and they were commanded to goe forth again to look out the old Incendiary, who not long afterwards was apprehended, and put into the hands of Justice, and condemned to be hanged, which accordingly was put in execution; and from that day he was cured of his Gout, and all his other maladies.
As for Francion, they did let him goe whither he pleased, without any disturbance. He considered with himself a long time, i [...] it were his best course to return to the Village, or not, and at the last he resolved not to go thither any more, and all his thoughts reflecting upon Nays, he did not regard to perform that which he had promised to Iocunda, because the enjoyment of her had taken away that little passion which he had for her. By this means that Maid was justly punished for abandoning her self to a Man, of whom she had no more knowledge, and who did goe away from her, without bidding her Farewell, or taking the least care for her. She ought for the time to come, to be circumspect how she contracted such uncertain loves. As for Francion, we cannot find that any misfortune did befall him, out of which he was not released, for although he committed some faults, yet he never desisted to have an inclination unto vertue, and God will not lose or destroy those, who one day will become vertuous.
Having no more affection to the pleasures of the Country, Francion resolved to repair to Lyons, to borrow some moneys there, to put himself into an [Page 12]equipage to follow his former adventures. The first man whom in the way he did meet with, was a Souldier very empty of mony; he was cloathed with an old pair of Red breeches, and with a leather doublet, which was very greasie. He demanded of him, If he would change cloaths with him? and promised him some money over and above in advantage. The Souldier agreed with him, and for a little money he did renounce his Nobility, to take upon him the habit of a Peasant. Francion began to admire himself in this goodly attire, which did please him more than any other; and having bought the Sword also of this gallant Warrier, he was much troubled how to wear it, because the Souldier would not sell his Belt; for, he said, he would reserve that, to serve him always as a Witnesse that he came from the Wars; there being abroad in the world many such Companions, who having sold their Muskets, do content themselves to carry their Rests with them.
Francion at the last remembring that he had about him a great leather thong with which he did tye and lead his dogg, when heretofore he performed the Office of a Shepherd, did think good to make use of it, and did carry his sword in that, as in a scarf. He had a Hat with a narrow brim, and picked at the top, made after an antick fashion, which pleased him very highly. His journy was long, he therefore travelled sometimes on horseback, and sometimes on foot, according to the occasions which he found, but his diligence made all the dispatch that possibly it could, and he expended not any mony, but with great wisdom and moderation. I will not tell you whether in his way he travelled over Rivers, or over Mountains, or passed through Cities or Towns, I am not in the humor to busy my self with those particulars. You may observe that I have not represented to you in what place Nays was at the Waters, whether it were at Pougues, or any other place; neither have I given you the Name of the Fortresse where Francion was a Prisoner, nor of the Village where he was a Shepherd, or of the City where Iocunda lived. It is a sign I have no desire you should know it; because I do not name it to you. Let us content our selves that Francion, after the travel of certain days, did lodge at a Village not far from Lyons, and the next day being Sunday, he came early in the morning to a Town more near unto it. Every one was then at Church to hear Masse said. Finding none at the Inne to give him wherewith to refresh himself, he determined with himself to sit under the great Elm in the Churchyard, which did grant him a favourable shade, and to stay there until they did come out of the Church. One of the Town having some businesse to perform more than the rest, or being more hasty to eat his Dinner, did first of all come forth, and passing by Francion, did take him for one of those Trumpets, who after the Wars are ended do go up and down the Villages to sell Druggs, and shew juggling tricks by the virtue of Hocus Pocus. You Trumpeter, said he, What have you to sell there? The most excellent druggs in the World, said Francion, who immediatly apprehended what he was taken to be; they cure all manner of Diseases: I make knowing those who are ignorant, I make rich, in a short time, the poorest men in the World. Where have you put them, said the Peasant, I see neither Cloak-bagg nor Portmantua? Thou art a Clown, replyed Francion, Thinkest thou that my Merchandise is like to that of other men? No, no, It is not made of the same Ingredients, It hath nothing visible in it, I do carry it in my head Pronouncing these words in a grave and serious manner, the Peasant believed that he did speak the truth, and forgetting all his other Imployments, he would have the honour in the first place to acquaint all those of the Town with the News of this so rare Mountebank, who did know, and could do all things. Every one of them had the Curiosity to see him, and the Mass was no sooner ended, but he was incompassed round about with persons of all ages.
Being obliged to act the Mountebank, when he saw himself invironed with [Page 13]such a multitude, he resolved to make a pleasant use of the opportunity which was offered, and putting himself into a good humor, he began to utter a thousand merry conceits to entertain them with. When he observed that his Auditors did give him a favourable attention to understand whither his Discourse would tend, he made this Oration to them.
My good People, Take notice that I am none of those Impostors who run up and down the Country, and sell you Oyls and Balsoms that will take away all Evils, and neverthelesse help not one. I will furnish you with divers. I am more full of knowledge than the illustrious Tabarin, whom who is there almost who hath not seen in these flourishing Cities of France? I call my self a Physician, and am rather a Professor, than a maker of Medicins; According to the Diseases which I find, I do either prescribe Physick, or I do make it my self. Moreover, (my dear friends) There is another kind of Merchandise which I do bear in my brain, I have so much Understanding and Spirit, that I can sell some of it to others. I distribute to all men apprehension, subtilty, and wisdom. Mark me well, he that looks upon me, let him know, that I am descended of a Race, where all the male Children are constantly Prophets; So were my Father, & my Grandfather: but alas they understood nothing at all in comparison of me, I have my own knowledge by Nature, besides that which they have taught me. If I would my self, I should alwayes be at the elbows of Kings, but I preferr liberty above riches; It is more meritorious for me, and I serve God better by going from Town to Town charitably to assist all manner of Persons, than to continue still in one Court or City. I will not trouble my self to relate some odde Story to you, according to the antient Custom, to stir up your Attention by Laughter, It becometh not a man of my Learning to be so great a Buffian. Let those who have need of my Counsel in their affairs repair unto me one by one, to my own Lodging. I can inform young Lovers if their Mistresses be Maids, or not, I can inform Husbands if their Wives have made them Cuckolds, or not. For the ordinary Diseases of your Bodies, I will discourse further of them too morrow, when I shall come upon this place again.
As he spoke those words, the Peasants did so throng about him, that a Levret could not passe between their leggs. They leer'd upon him with glances of highest approbation, and made gestures of admiration, listning most attentively to what he said; and because they did believe him, they did not dare to enquire any thing of him. Every one imagined that if he should make it appear before others that he suspected his Wife had made him a Cuckold, they would undoubtedly believe that he was one, and would ever afterwards laugh at him. Those who desired to be satisfied in that particular, did determine with themselves to ask him in privat some other time concerning it, and the Lovers were of the same advise to understand the chastity of their Mistresses: But to make trial of the knowledge of the Mountebank in other particulars, divers questions were openly propounded to him. Master (said a Waggoner) Tell me some Invention, by the practise of which I never may want money. Travel perpetually, (replyed Francion) for those who will pay thee well. Lend nothing to those who have not a desire to restore it, and every day in a hole which thou shalt make in the ground, bury one Sous, and thou shalt find there at the end of the year Three hundred sixty and five; But the Waggoner (who had an acute desire to shew himself to be as witty and frolick as the Mountebank) said unto him, Master, Since a few seeds of Corn sown in my ground, do bring me so many ears full laden, will you advise me to sow as many Crowns? If I should sow them, tell me, I pray. What would they produce? They would produce Thieves (said Francion) who would come to digg them up.
There was at the same time a Peasant who said unto him, I have been lately [Page 14]married to a young Woman who doth nothing else but follow me, I would fain know for what it is? It is because thou goest before, said Francion. To all such foolish demands, he suddenly returned the like answers, which made the Peasants laugh; for such entertainment was proper for such persons. But Hunger prevailing on him, he desired the Company to give him leave to go to Dinner, and advised them to come afterwards to the Tavern, where he would endeavour to satisfie them all concerning that which they desired of him.
The Taverner, who was present, did conduct him to his House, and leaving the Company of his Wife, did come to take his repast with him. When they were both together, and no other with them, he said unto him, I have a Wife which is fair enough, as you your self behold, I have had alwayes in my mind an Imagination that she hath made me a Cuckold, Deliver me, I beseech you, from this unquietnesse of Spirit. I will, said Francion, you appear to me to be a brave man, and it is most fit that you should know how the affair doth stand in that particular; This Evening, going to Bed, tell her you have understood from me, that before too morrow morning all Cuckolds should be turned into Doggs; Observe what she doth say, and moreover what she doth thereupon, and you and I will advise together of the rest.
The Taverner did content himself with this Counsel, and did speak no more unto him, when immediatly there entred into the room a Company of Peasants, to be resolved of Francion in some doubfull points concerning their affairs. There were young Men who came unto him to demand if their Mistresses had their Maidenheads. He enquired after their Names, and the Names of the Maids, and having made a little pause thereupon, he told to some that their Mistresses had lost their Maidenheads, and to others, that they had still preserved the flower of their Virginity, accordingly as it came to his Fancy. As soon as they were gone, there entred a good old Farmer, who did take him aside, and said unto him, Sir, I am very much perplexed, My Daughter hath acquainted her Mother that she is great with child, and she doth not know by whom; If we knew who it were, we would cause him to marry her if he were a rich man; and if he were not, we would cause him to be punished: My Wife and I were for a certain time abroad in a Pilgrimage, In the mean time, she did ly alone in our Chamber, and she cannot tell who it was that came to ravish her Maidenhead from her, He that did force it from her would not speak a word. Francion made answer, It is very likely it was one of your Servants; I do conceive so too, said the Peasant, but there are six of them, two Ploughmen, two Tilemakers, a Shepherd, and a Swineherd, to whom of these shall I addresse my self? tell me Sir, I beseech you, what I shall do in this Case. Francion replyed unto him, Do you and your Wife lie this Night out of your Lodging, and let your Daughter sleep in the same Bed in which she lost her Maidenhead, and let the door be no more locked than it was at that time. He who already hath been familiar with her, will come again to visit her without doubt; and if he will not yet speak, she shall mark him on the forhead with a certain mixture which I shall give her: the mark will not so suddenly go out, but the next morning you may discover it very plainly, and by this means you may discover who it was.
After that Francion had spoke those words, he entreated the Peasant to leave him for a little time, that he might prepare his drug. He took Lamb-black, which he mingled with Oyl, and afterwards brought to him, saying, that his Daughter with that ought to mark the forhead of the man who came to lie with her. The Peasant returned home, and communicated the affair to his Wife, who did agree to all that which he desired. After that, he departed with his Wife from his own house, and repaired to a Friends house in the Neighbouring Village, where he resolved to sup, and to lodge there that [Page 15]night. Night being come, his Daughter did goe to Bed in her own Chamber, and did not make fast the door with the bolt. Her Fathers six servants were in the Chamber directly over against it. They were all asleep but the Shepherd, the Chamber directly over against it. They were all asleep but the Shepherd, who was he that had before been too familiar with her; He was inamoured on her, and seeing an occasion as inviting and propitious as ever to lye with her, he determined with himself to go unto her, and rising from his own bed, he softly opened the door, and came to the Bed of his Mistresse.
The expectation and design which she had, did hinder her from sleep, so that hearing him to approach, she prepared her self to perform that which she was commanded; As he indeavoured to kisse her and imbrace her, she did thrust him back with one hand, and with one of the fingers of her other hand, which she had dipped in the oyl, she touched his Forehead, and afterwards was not so carefull to defend her self, thinking that she had done enough. In the first respite after their imbraces, having her judgement more free than in the time of pleasure, she desired him to confesse unto her who he was, and assured him that he could get nothing by concealing himself, for the Mountebanck who is now in the Town, and knows every thing that is done, would on the next morning discover him unto her. She said unto him, wherefore doe you not speak unto me? How would you have me to love you, when I cannot know who you are? He then confessed to her that he was the Shepherd, and did represent unto her how entirely he did love her. O Lord, said she, I would you had spoken to me a little sooner, I would not have marked you as I now have done, you have a mark on your Forehead which will not suddenly be wiped away, and too morrow my Father will know by it, that you have lain with me, you know that he doth not love you, and will never give way that we shall be marryed together, he will cause you to be punished by Justice for which I shall be extremely sorry, for I always loved you above any other, although I never did expresse as much unto you. I thank you for your good will, said the Shepherd, and I must beseech you to continue it; But give me that drug I pray, with which you have rubbed my Forehead, and I will so order it, that your Father shall not know who it was that lay with you. The Girl thereupon did put into his hand a little pot, where the Black wa [...], and he anointed one of his Fingers with it, and going into the Chamber of his Companions, who were all asleep, he marked the Forehead of every one of them. Having done that, he came again to bed to his Mistresse, with whom he passed away that Night.
The day no sooner appeared, but the Master of the lodging arrived, who desiring to know if he could discover him who had lain with his Daughter, be caused all his Servants to come before him, and having looked upon them all, he was amazed to see all their Foreheads marked with black, whereupon in a great choler he did goe unto his Daughter, and said unto her, If all those who have their Foreheads coloured with Black have lain with thee this Night, there was never the Daughter of a Husbandman that hath been more soundly occupied than thy self. She did protest unto him, that there came but one unto her, against whom she could have well defended her self, but then she could never have discovered him, and she knew not how the rest came to be so marked. All the remedy which the honest Peasant had, was to have recourse again unto the Mountebanck, and to acquaint him with that which had arrived, and to know of him in this Case what Expedient he had to use. Francion having a little while consulted on it, did say unto him, Return home with all the speed you can, and cause all your Servants again to come before him, and observe if without doubt who hath lain with your Daughter. He made all the hast he could to his own house, and having looked on all their-hands, he found that there was not any one of them that had a black finger but the Shepherd only. [Page 16]Ha, said he, It is thou then who hast dishonoured my house, I will cause thee to be apprehended, and, being condemned by justice, to be hanged. What a most impudent knave art thou, when she was asleep, to violate the Daughter of thy Master. Speaking those words, he did take the Shepherd by the Collar, and commanded that the rest of his Servants should lay hold on him to carry him to prison, but the Shepherd said unto him, Ah good Master, It is true that I have lain with your Daughter, I cannot deny it, It is as true also that the first time that I did come unto her, she was asleep, but immediatly afterwards she did awake, and permitted me quietly to accomplish what I was about to doe, so that you cannot affirm that I did force her, for those of her age, and of such a patience too, cannot properly be said to be ravished.
As he did speak this, The Mother, the Uncle, and the Aunt of the Daughter arrived, who being advertised of the fact, did perswade the furious Father to be pacified, representing to him that Marriages were made in heaven before they were celebrated upon Earth, and that without doubt Heaven had ordained that this Shepherd should marry his Daughter; they declared that be was a thriving young Man, and that of necessity he must marry them together to redresse the fault, if it were any fault at all. The businesse was so well disputed, that on the very same day the accord was made, to the great contentment of both parties, and the Father declaring the admirable inventions which the Mountebanck had taught him, to discover him who had defloured his Daughter, did determine with himself to give him many thanks, and a round reward.
While these things did so happily fall out, the knowledge and the Fortune of Francion had yet another effect. His Host, who would prove the chastity of his Wife, did seek after that which he desired not to know, and going to Bed, he failed not to put his counsell into practice. He said unto his Wife, Sweet-heart, you do not know what strange news I have heard. Why! what is it, said she, Is it not possible for me to be partaker of it? No, No, replyed he, you are too great a Pratler. Upon my Faith, said she, I will not speak a word, will you not tell me? will you not? well I see now you do not love me, you know I can conceal any Secret. Say you so? replyed he, and that is very strange. Well! I will tell you, but be you assured that you speak not of it. The Mountebanck hath assured me, that all the Cuckolds in the Town shall before Day break be metamorphosed into Dogs. Is that all? said she, why what need you care, you are not one. The Host muttered to her between his Teeth, I know it well enough, neverthelesse we ought to have a fellow feeling with those who are our Neighbours. His Wife pursuing the discourse, did say unto him, Howsoever it be, we ought not to believe such an ungifted Prophet as he is; He never doth foretell Holydays unto us, but when they are already come; do not you sleep the worse for him; for my self, I cannot yet have the leisure to go to Bed so soon, I must go down and heat the Oven, your Servant being but newly come knows not well how to do it. She did speak these words to take an occasion to go out of doors, and instead of going to heat the Oven, she did goe to the Churchyard, where all her female Neighbours were assembled: It was impossible for her to hold her Tongue, she therefore discovered to them what her Husband had imparted to her. They were all amazed at the tydings, and immediatly every one of them made hast to declare it to all those Women who were of their acquaintance, so that in a Moment the whole Town was full of the news.
The Taverners wife going afterwards to Bed to her Husband, did with much impatience attend the break of day, to perceive what would arrive unto him; As soon as it was light, she did rise, and taking the Coverlet from his Face, she observed if he had his accustomed shape. When she beheld that he was still a Man, she let him alone, being unwilling to wake him, and did make her [Page 17]self ready to go down to follow her Imployment. But presently afterwards her Husband awaking, and remembring the counsel which on the night before the Mountebank had given him, he resolved with himself to make tryal of it, and did counterfeit the voice of a Dogg. His Wife, who (to speak the truth) did at that time most entirely love him, hearing him to bark like a Mastiff, being affrighted to hear that noise, did fall down at the feet of the Bed, and with her hands listed up, did begin to cry out, Oh good God! For two poor faults only must my poor Husband be turned into a Dogge? He immediately did arise, and (although the manner of her Complaint was enough to soften any heart) he did beat her soundly, saying to her, No, No, It is not I who shall be turn'd into a Dogg, God doth not punish Husbands for the offences of their Wives, It is you who shall be transformed into a Bitch, or a She-wolf, or into any other Beast, if there be any more ravenous and sensual than that. Have you twice indeed made a forfeit of your Honor? Tell me how, in what place, and with whom? Dear Husband, said she, If you will promise to pardon me, I will conceal nothing from you. Yes, replyed he, I do pardon thee; but tell me all, and have a care that you commit not the same fault any more, She said unto him, About eight days after we were married, you may remember that there was a young Lord who llved in this Village, who was a brave Companion, and did come to court me; he declared to me that Women of the City were not so stupid as those in the Country, and that they refuse nothing which was demanded of them, and that I being young and handsom ought to do the same, to gain favour and estimation amongst Gentlemen of fashion. He thereupon did come to kisse me, and did proceed further, without any resistance; for I had a desire to represent unto him, that I had profited by his Instructions, and I believed it was a discourteous part to deny him any thing. So with him I passed the first passe; but not long afterwards the Groom of his Chamber having incountred me in a Dark Entry, when he would have made much of me, I shewed not my self so easie to him. He thought that it was opportunity which made a Thief, and that being both where none could see us, I would permit my self to be abused by him; but I knew well enough how to say unto him, Go, get you gone, you are not your Master, Do you think that any one will give that liberty unto you, as unto him? Since I have understood sufficiently, that I should give no admission at all, either unto Master, or to Man, and my Innocence was the Companion of my Youth. Neverthelesse there being Souldiers here one day who ransacked the house when you were in the City, there was one of them who said unto me, Of two things I must needs have one, I must either take away all your Hens, or lie with you. I had rather that he should lie with me, because I would not incurr your displeasure; for if he had taken away the Poultry, you would have perceived it, but you could never perceive if he did lie with me or not: for in that Theft nothing is taken away, nor is there any thing put out of its place. You see here (my Husband) how I have failed twice, but in my own judgement, it is not worthy of your punishment. It is a common saying, that the first fault deserveth admonition, and the second ought to be pardoned; and that the third only, and those which follow afterwards, are to pay for all. You do well to pardon, because I have not offended thrice. In good time (said her Husband) but Mistresse, I would have you know, that twice is enough to make a Man a Cuckold; he indeed who hath on his forehead but one point of the Horn, cannot properly be said to be Cornuted; for he must have there both ends thereof who is a Cuckold of the right stamp. But Husband (said the Wife) you must understand, that he is no Cuckold, who doth not think himself to be one; and since I was so simple when I offended against the Laws of Marriage, that I did not conceive to make you a Cuckold, you are not one in effect. There is another thing of which I have heard wise men to speak, When [Page 18]a Woman hath a desire to make her Husband a Cuckold, although it should never come to effect, yet is he still to be ranked amongst the number of Cuckolds; but on the contrary, if she should lose that desire, and love none but only her Husband, he is no longer to be reputed to be one; Otherwise, Why should that blemish still continue, when the Occasions, and all Inducements thereunto, are happily vanished? Shall an old Man be still a Cuckold when his Wife is full of age, and witherd as himself? Her Husband did approve her reasons, and for the time to come did resolve with himself to live in peace and love with so wise a Woman.
The other Women, who by the common report had been advertised that all Cuckolds should be metamorphosed into Doggs, did much perplex themselves about it, especially those who had too carelesly forfeited their honour. They could not sleep all that night, & ceased not to feel if the hair were come all over their Husbands, [...] if their ears were not longer, and more pendent than before; There were some who were not so secret, but acquainted their Husbands with what they heard; who observing that they fear'd they should be metamorphosed, did from thence conjecture, that their Wives were not so chast as they ought to have been, & did beat them so soundly, that they had not afterwards a desire to be circumvented by the fair Language of their Wanton Lovers; Nevertheless, they knew not what wel to believe concerning the prophecy of the Mountebank; for they all took him to be a Man of great knowledge & experience, and it being Holyday, every one with impatience attended the hour to see him come upon the place. Fran [...] to content himself, had imployed all that night in making Unguents with Butter and Bees-wax, and Oyl, and the juyce of some herbs, with other Ingredients, and resolved with himself to distribute them, and to take good mony for them, of which at that time he was in great Necessity. He had learned how to compose Druggs by the books which he had read only for curiosity; and to speak the truth, his Medicaments did conduce rather unto Good than to Evil; for he would not perscribe any thing, but with deliberation and judgement. It was quite crosse to his desires, that this frolick adventure of his should procure damage unto any one, but he endeavoured rather to render himself profitable to all, as in effect whatsoever we have seen him do in this Village, did afford more pleasure than prejudice.
The Hour being come in which he was to appear in publick, he caused all his Merchandise to be carried in a great box on the place by a little boy. He would have been glad to have been accōmodated with a Gittern to delight his spectators, & to counterfeit a Mountebank in the best manner that he could; but there being not a Gittern in the Town, he entertained them with a Discourse which pleased them better than Musick. He made no mention at all of the Cuckolds that should have been transformed into Doggs; for the Women who were jealous of the event, and [...]ound the error of it, did now laugh that report into scorn. The Oration which he made to commend the excellence of his Druggs was hardly begun, but behold there came into that place a Man on Horseback, who having listned to him a little time, and well observed him, did alight, and cleaving through the Presse he did approach unto him, and kissing his Thigh, he said unto him, Ah my good Master! In what an equipage are you here? How glad am I that I have found you again? Francion knew well enough, when ever he discerned him, that it was the Groom of his Chamber, but he was not yet pleased to speak unto him; and having saluted him with a little Ceremony, he only said unto him▪ Withdraw your self, We by and by will discourse together. Give me leave a little to content these honest people. Immediatly he did fall again on the Commendation of his Druggs, and to distribute them to those who did desire them. Some of them he sold for one Sous, and some for two. He took as much as was needfull for every Drugg, which with a knife he did put upon a Paper; and to make it apparent to them that [Page 19]his Druggs were good, he took some part thereof upon the point of a knife, and giving it to his Boy, he would say unto him, Go too, Sirrah, you are a good Boy, you shall have this licourish bit, and this, and this, and this; Nay, and this also. That which is most excellent is in the bottom of all the Budge [...], the best is alwayes there, when you are a married Man, ask your Wife if it be not so. He had many other terms which the Mountebanks do use to allure and circumvent their Merchants, and the complacence of his gesture did adde much grace to his Discourse insomuch that Petronius, who was the Groom of his Chamber, was never more astonished; and having considered with himself the Repulse he gave him, could not well be perswaded that it was his Masters voice: But at last, all the Confections being sold, he abandoned the Company, and entertained Petronius with the testimonies of an Incomparable Joy. The Assembly of the Peasants being dispersed, they repaired to their Inne to repose themselves. Francion demanded of Petronius in the first place, where were all his Servants? He made answer, that after the losse of their Master, they were all departed to seek their fortunes, believing that he had been dead, and as for himself he ceased not to seek after him, as well in France, as in Italy, and if he had not now met with him, he would have gon again to Rome to see if he could there find him out.
Francion did briefly declare unto him all his adventures, which did wonderfully astonish him, and assuring him that he languished with a desire to be at Rome to see again his Nays, he resolved presently to take horse for Lyons, to supply himself with moneys to satisfie the expences of his Journy. Petronius said unto him, That having lost him, and not knowing what to do with his Horses and his Baggage, he had sold all, excepting one Horse, and that he had still about him the greatest part of the money. Francion was very glad to hear that, and having received the moneys of him, he bought a little Nagg for Petronius in the same Village, and mounted himself on the other, and immediately departed, leaving all the Townsmen very highly satisfied. It was late before they could arrive at Lyons, so that Francion was not seen with that goodly habit on his back.
The next morning very early he did send for a Taylor, who did apparel him Cap-a-pea, he addressed himself also to a Money-merchant of his Acquaintance, who promised to lend him as much money as he desired, knowing well enough, that he should lose nothing by him. He demanded of him Letters of Change to receive money at Rome, and gave him others to send unto his Mother for the re-disbursement of the money which he was to borrow. Having thus put his affairs in order, he travelled the direct way towards Italy, being attended by Petronius only, to whom he promised great Rewards for his Fidelity. He made such a Dispatch, that he minded not to take notice of what rare things were to be seen in the Towns which he passed thorough. He desired to see nothing but Nays, whose sight he preferred above all that which is esteemed most precious in this world.
There fell not throughout the whole Course of his travels, any thing worthy to be recorded; For he had not the leisure to regard the Towns as he travelled, nor to sport himself with those Men whom he did meet with in the way. It may be sufficient to understand, that after the Journeys of many dayes he arrived at Rome, and took up his Lodgings in that place where the French have ordinarily their Residence; and six dayes were not fully passed, before he was advertised of the arrival of Raymond and Dorini. He immediatly repaired to salute them, and it may be well affirmed, that never in any Interview of Friends there was manifested so much true Joy, as at the meeting of these; When Francion declared to them his adventures of a Shepherd, and of being a Mountebank, he did ravish them all with admiration. O Lord! (said Dorini) How sorry am I that we came no sooner into Italy? We might possibly [Page 20]have received the news of your disaster, and we would not have left you in such a bad condition. You deceive your self, said Francion. I should be sorry replyed Raymond, to have taken Francion from that estate of life wherein he was; He would not then have performed such gallant things; They are so rare, that I assure my self he would always most freely renounce the greatest dignities to atchieve the like; you would have done him [...] injury as but in the imagination to have thought to have relieved him. You have reason so to say, said Francion, and truly I would not have lived otherwise than I have done, Neverthelesse, I will assure you, that even this course of life is at the best but a meerfolly and trifling vexation. It is true, said Raymond, but these follies are oftentimes of more worth than the most serious imployments of those who govern Nations. If they should fall into the same disasters as you have done, they would have enough to do to endure them with the same constancy of Spirit, to rejoyce & make sport at the calamities which Fortune had prepared for you.
Let us abandon this discourse, said Francion, It is not to me to whom such praise doth belong. We are now in a Country where there is nothing of true merit but Nays only; Tell me Dorini, Have you received no intelligence of her? She is undouhtedly in this City, said Dorini, I will by and by addresse my self unto her, for the love which I bear to you. Dorini's deed did jump, and overtake his words, and immediatly he departed to give a visitation to his Kinswoman, who had a house in Rome in which she was more often than in her Mannors in the Country. After their first Complements, he did speak unto her of Floriander, and demanded of her, if she had not received the news of his death? She made answer, Yes, and he pursuing, his discourse did ask her, If she had not seen him whom he sent unto her in exchange of him, who was a Gentleman of no lesse desert? She made answer, that she understood very well of whom he did intend to speak, but he was, she said, a most inconstant, and an ingratefull man, seeing, having received from her the most courteous entertainment in the world, he did forsake her without so much as bidding her Farewell, and had since sent her a harsh and an uncivil Letter. Dorini desired to see the Letter, and having perused it, he assured her that it never came from Francion, for besides he was too civil to have written such rude lines, it was not his hand; I have Verses, said he, in my Pocket which are of his writing, you shall be witnesse your self if the hand be like unto it. But all this is nothing, from whence was it that he wrote this Letter to you? It is only an invention of his Rivals, who are jealous and revengefull; you do believe that he hath forsaken you, when those two wicked men did keep him prisoner. He hath been reduced for your sake to extreme misery, and hath been thrown down into the most sordid condition in the world, you shall hear the relation of it from his own mouth. He is now in this City with a resolution to wait upon you, if you will give him permission. Nays giving belief to the words of Dorini, and detesting in her heart the malice of Ergastus and Valerius, did throw the Letter into the fire which they had sent unto her in the name of Francion. She declared to Dorini that she should be very glad to see him. Dorini returned with this well-come news, which did render unto Francion an intire contentment: They made hast to dinner▪ to give a visit to her in the afternoon, and did afterwards with Raymond go alltogether to wait upon her. Raymond, who before had never seen her, did much admire her, and found her to be far more beautifull than in her picture she was represented to be, and the others who had seen her before, did acknowledge that her perfections increased with her years. Dorini said unto her, Madam, behold here the bravest Cavalliers of France, who have forsaken their own Countries to pay homage to your beauties. Thereupon Raymond and Francion did begin their Complements, which the fair Marchionesse did answer according to the terms of her ordinary courtesie. Francion had a great desire to take her aside, to declare unto her the miseries which [Page 21]love had made him suffer for her▪ in his absence, but he thought it unmannerly to deprive his friends of the sight of that beautifull Lady. Dorini immediatly did recite unto her the Adventures which he passed in his Imprisonment, and after wards [...] seeing himself obliged to second the narration, his Mistresse being p [...]sen [...] who [...] the principal occasion thereof, did repeat them himself, he did [...] deser [...] [...] the [...]ser [...] of his Prison, and the poverty in which he wa [...] [...] but he had a care not to speak at all of his several loves at that time [...] it should bed [...]easing unto Nays. He disguised some things as much as possibly he could, and added to the confirmation of others, which made the whole story the more agreeable; But above all he triumphed when he was to speak how he did personate the Mountebanck, for he represented that person in the same words, and the same gestures, as he did act it on the Stage himself, which was so pleasing unto Nays, that she professed she never did hear any thing that conveyed a more absolute content unto her, so that in some sort she could not be angry at the treachery of Ergastus and Valerius, which was the cause of so many successefull adventures. It is in this sense that the Philosopher do give thanks to [...]ortune for the miseries she hath sent unto them, because she gives them thereby an occasion to illustrate their merit, and make Poverty the Instrument of their Virtues.
Dorini was advertised that Francion would be revenged of the two Rivalls, but he assured [...]im [...] were better not to waken an Injury, which had already slept so long, and that Brgastus being returned to Venice, and Valerius to his Country house, because they were weary in the pursute of a beauty which they could not obtain, it was better to leave them with that remorse of Conscience, which the guilty do indure. He could not make them submit unto him without ingaging all the world concerning that which was passed, and Francion desired not to have it known that he was in prison, or that he was afterwards constrained to live like a Peasant.
Although these things were taken for gallantries, and agreeable adventures, yet he forgat not most passionately to declare himself, and to insist most of all on the unquietnesse of his Soul being separated from Nays, but his protestation was so well understood, that at this time it passed only for an indifferency. After diverse intertainments these brave Cavalliers did take their leave of her, and returned to take their rests in the house where they were lodged.
On the next morning, as they were at Breakfast, it was told them, that two French Gentlemen were at the Gate, who desired to speak with Francion; He did give order to let them in, and was amazed to see young Buisson, and one named Audebert, who was of his own Country; he did courteously salute them, and having told Buisson that he was a Man of his promise, he would know of Audebert how they met together; Audebert made answer to him, that being both at Lyons, they did there meet, and ever since did not part from one another, and that it was above a Month since they came to Rome. But there is one thing more, said Buisson, It seems to me that Heaven ordained to cause all you best friends to come hither to be the witnesses of all your gallant atchievements. Audebert hath not yet told you, that I have brought along with me a brave man, who boasteth to have been sometimes your Schoolmaster, He is one of the Oracles of these times, and doth at every word vomit his Greek and Latine: Who is that? said Francion; who? said Audebert, Have you not heard of the incomparable Hortensius? Hortensius! said Francion, and cryed out, O God, how well might I say as Philip of Macedon, when in one instant he received the news of two Victories, O Fortune, send me but a little sorrow to qualifie the excesse of so much happinesse. Was it not enough that I must understand of the coming of Audebert whom I have known from my Youth, and of Buisson whose humour doth infinitely please me, but I must be informed that Hortensius is also here? That Hortensius I do mean, who is [Page 22]King of all the brave Spirits in the Vniversity of Paris. O most happy Adventure! But my dear Friends, tell me, How comes it about that he is now in Rome? He was not well pleased to continue any longer in Paris, said Audebert. He believed that his elaborate Vigillations were not well recompenced; so that hearing I was determined to goe into Italy, he was resolved to accompany me. But why (said Francion) came not he along with you to see me? Doth he think to do here, as when he was in France? At Paris he would always obscure himself from me; and if by chance he did meet me in the Streets, he would give me but a slight salutation, without speaking to me at all. He must not do so here. It is the Custom of the French to visit one another. It is requisite that we should wait upon him. He hath always (said Audebert) been something afraid of you, and I believe it is, because he conceiveth that you are of a lively, and a frolick humor, and do make sport with him; but I have so prevailed upon him, that he hath almost lost that conceit and the reason why he came not along with us at this present, is, because you know he is very ceremonious, and withall, he is but poorly apparelled; and besides all this, he must study some new Complements to salute you, for, having not seen you a long time, this first Interview must needs be remarkable. You do him wrong (replyed Francion) he hath a Spirit prompt enough to speak to me without any preparation. But tell me, By what means gained you the acquaintance of so illustrious a personage? That indeed deserves to be accounted to you, (said Audebert) and if you have the leisure to hear it, I will declare it to you. Francion having then assured him that he was ready to lend an ear to whatsoever he should say, (knowing that he would speak nothing that would appear either tedious or disagreeable) he caused him to sit down, and all those who were present did the like.
As I was at Paris (said Audebert) to pass away my time in all sorts of company, I did see almost every day two Poets of the Court, one of them was called Salust, and the other Escluses, they were both of them good Companions. Salust one day had a desire to translate into French the fourth Eclogue of Virgil; but because he did not perfectly understand the Latin tongue, and could not perform the work, but only by conferring it with some old Translations, he determined with himself to communicate it to some learned Man. A Printer, one of his friends, did make mention to him of Hortensius, and told him moreover, that he was very skillfull in the Greek and Latin Tongues, and that oftentimes he did write very well in French, and had many Translations extant, and did himself compose very good Verses. Salust had a desire to see him, although he had no acquaintance with him, and declared to Escluses with what Complements he would accost him. Escluses did so much esteem whatsoever Salust wrote, that he did keep the Copies of all his works. He had the Eclogue already written, and he came to me, and desired me also to transcribe it, assuring me, that it would be a happy Prologue for a gallant Scene of Mirth to come. He informed me, that Salust was resolved to communicate that piece unto Hortensius, and that before-hand we two should go both of us in his place, one after the other, and affirm that our Names were both called Salust. It was easie enough to counterfeit his person; for as Nature doth seldom make men perfect, but gives one imperfection or other to their bodies, who have an acomplished Spirit; so she had made him to stammer, and he did write a great deal better than he did speak: So Homer was blind, and R [...]nsard deaf, and the defects of these great Personages were repaired by the excellence of their Understandings. Escluses having notice on what Day Salust intended to give a Visit to Hortensius, did addresse himself unto him a little before, and in a better hour; and having found this Man of knowledge in his Chamber, he made an humble reverence unto him. Sir, (said [Page 23]he) I am come hither to have the happinesse to make a tender to you of my service. I would no longer be deprived of the conversation of so excellent a Spirit, by which I may benefit my self, and having taken some pains of late in the composure of some verses, I should be very glad to have your approbation. I am called Salust, I shall be always ready to serve you, I know not if ever you have heard of me, or not. Hortensius who had seen many Poems printed in that name, but had never known the Author by his face, and knew nothing else of him but only that he stammerd, did verily perswade himself that it was he, and with much courtesie caused him to sit down, giving him many thanks for the honour he had done him. The pretended Salust did then take the Eclogue out of his Pocket, and did read it to him. Hortensius did attempt to find one fault or other almost with every verse, that so he might make known unto him the acutenesse of his apprehension and judgement, neverthelesse he affirmed at the last, that the beginnings of the verses were very good, and the fancy of the Author was suitable to the present time. Escluses thanked him for his patience to hear him, and having taken his leave of him, he came to find out me, to acquaint me that it was time for me to go to act the same person, and that we should receive a great deal of contentment by it. He taught me the same Oration which he had spoken to Hortensius, and I making my addresse unto him, did counterfeit to stammer so extremely, that I was almost half a quarter of an hour in bringing forth every Syllable, and I also told him that I was called Salust. He heard all this with a frowning silence, and said but little, seeing that in so great a City as Paris, it was possible enough that there might be two Poets of the same name, and that one of them might stammer as well as the other; but when I began to read the Eclogue to him, which was the very same that he heard before, he could not contain himself, but said unto me, Sir, There departed hence a Gentleman but even now, who calls himself Salust as well as your self, he shewed me also the very same Poem, who was it of you two that made it? Is it possible that you should both have the same Genius, as well as the same name, and that you should both write on the same subject, and which is more, have the self same words? Upon my faith a Man may give but a bad interpretation of it; I know not who is he that is deceived in this particular, but will you be pleased to take the pains to go some where else, to look out one to passe his censure on your verses, I have been tormented with them too much already. Go ask the other Salust what I already have said unto him.
Speaking those words, I perceived that he was in a great choler, so that without any great Ceremony I did take my leave of him. Not long afterwards the true Salust arrived, and made him a Complement like unto ours, at the least in the substance of it, for in the grace of speaking he did far excell us, and did stammer a great deal handsomer. He did imitate himself better than we could imitate him. Neverthelesse, when be began to tell Hortensius that his name was Salust, and that he would shew him an Eclogue, he did thrust him out of the Chamber with all the force he had, and if he had not shifted from him, he had thrown him headlong down the stairs. How now (said he) Why this last is a veryer knave than the other two, and speaks a great deal worse, Will they not leave coming to me till it be night? Ah these are close lurching Companions. These are the Nimmers who would rob me of all my moveables. Who ever hereafter shall come to see me, I will not open the door till he hath told me his name, and if he stammers, or calls himself Salust, he shall not enter within my doors. Hortensius having spoke this, had a strong desire to have set the Serjeant upon Salust, to have him apprehended as a Thief, but he could find no body in his house to imploy on that errand.
In the mean time Salust made all the hast away that possibly he could, and we repaired directly to his house, to know of him, if he had seen Hortensius? [Page 24]He told us that he was with him, but the Fool was so furious, that he had not the patience to hear what he would say unto him, and that he would have beaten him without any ground at all, so that he though himself happy to have escaped his hands. Escluses could not contain himself from discovering the trick which we had put upon him, which gave him so much content, that he said, It was very expedient that all the three Salusts should go all together to see Monsieur Hortensius. That advice did please us well, we returned to his Lodging. but he being not within, we did all go to the Printers house, where we did find him correcting Proofs. We desired him that he would not be angry at our proceedings, for we were brethren, and that we all three made Verses, but to speak the truth, it was the eldest only who made the Eclogue. He made answer, I have since thought upon it, and am not now in so much choler; It seems to me that all you three might well make that Eclogue, and that the eldest did make the beginning, the second the middle, and the younger Brother the end of it. So it was, said I, but we durst not acquaint you with it. He at that time did believe us, but afterwards our deceit was discovered to him; whereupon he did bear us no more good will, but would rail at us in whatsoever place he did see us. We resolved to take of him a pleasant vengeance, and having observed, that, because he would be taken for a Gentleman, he was alwayes booted and spurred, as was heretofore Amadis de Gaul, without ever being on horseback, we desired to make sport with him concerning that particular. His Boots were so old, that they seemed to be those which Archbishop Turpin did wear, when he marched with good King Charlem [...]in against the Saracens; full often had they been mended, and soled, and soled, and mended again; I believe that all the Coblers in Paris were well acquainted with them, and that there was not one amongst them all who had not at least set a piece or two on them. The leggs of the Boots had been mended and pieced in so many places, that with truth enough it may be affirmed, they were not the same which they had been at first, they looked like the Boat of Theseus, which was kept for a Monument in the Haven of Athens. Whensoever that any new hole appeared, Hortensius would thrust into it a little piece of coloured Taffaty, which it seems he would do on purpose, to make it shew more gallant.
One day, as thus booted he walked along the Streets, we were drinking with some Serjeants of our acquaintance, who being half drunk, did by our perswasions take him by the Collar in a little lane that did lead unto the Counter; They told him that he must go to Prison for the great Trespasse he committed, having hurt a child of one of the Burgesses of the City. He made answer, he knew not what they would have; neverthelesse they halled him to the Court Levesque, as the Judge was then upon the Bench. He was brought before him, and a certain Man whom we had feed for that purpose, did put into the Court a Declaration against him, alleging, that Hortensius on that morning, making his Horse to prance and corvet in the streets, had a design to kill a young child of his, and had thrown him on the ground, and much bruised his head. He desired that provision might be made for the cure, and satisfaction given for all expences and damages, and that he might be bound to the good behaviour for the time to come.
The Judge demanded of Hortensius if this were true? He slatly did deny it, but durst not at the first plead that he was never on horseback because he was alwayes booted; but at the last he was constrained thus to declare for himself, Alas Sir, How is it possible that I being on horseback should hurt any child, since I will prove unto you, that I was never on horseback all my life? and when I did travel to my own Country, I went alwayes in a Coach; I was once being a little Boy mounted on an Asse, Sir, He was so sawcy that he did throw me on the ground, and displaced a bone in my shoulder, since which time, I would never have any thing to do with Beasts. The Iudge told him, that he [Page 25]must produce Witnesses that he was never on horseback. He demanded a certain respite of time, which was granted him; at the last his own Oath was taken, and he was released from the Serjeants, paying no charges at all, but only some small thing which he gave them to drink.
Being inlarged, he was almost angry with himself that he was not esteemed to be so generous, [...]s to be guilty of the fact for which he was accused, that he might make the world believe that he was not so despicable a person, but that sometimes he had been on horseback. We did imagine what he thought, and afterwards we began to make sport with him on the brave adventure which arrived to him. He, seeing himself so laughed at, had so much judgement as to know, that the only means to avoid it, was not to seem incensed, but to laugh with us; So that finding us one day in a Book-sellers shop, as we were entring upon a discourse concerning Boots, he told us, That he would make us a Speech in the praise of them: and to shew himself pleasant in earnest, he did thus begin, O how much are those Authors to be accused of Negligence, who having searched into the Invention of things, have not left in writing who was he who first found out the use of the Boots? What a heavy and a stupid Spirit did possesse our Predecessors, as not to accommodate themselves with so warm an accoutrement, but only when they were to ride abroad, contenting themselves to walk in the Streets with Stockings and Shooes! We, who are more advised, do use them daily, not only when we ride, but on foot also; for there is nothing more profitable, especially to save Silk stockings, against whom the Dust and the Dirt in the Streets do make continual warr, and above all places in this City of Paris, which from Lutum, that is, Dirt, is called Lutetia. Is there not a Proverb which affirmeth, that the Pox of Roan, and the Dirt of Paris, are near of kin to one another? Is it not a great advantage of Honor when you walk abroad, to appear (by being booted only) to be a Cavallier, although you have no Horse at all, because those, whosoever they are that see you, will suddenly be apt to imagine, that a Lackey not farr off is waiting with your Horse for you? Those of Forein Nations who live amongst us, are amazed how so much Hay and Oats should increase in France, to nourish the Horses of so many Men who do wear Boots in Paris only; but we cannot but laugh, and laugh again at their Ignorance, for we may demonstrate to them, that the Horses of those Gentlemen whom they see to wear Boots, do not cost much money to keep them. All the brave Men who are at this day booted, do declare unto us, that a Boot is an essential part of a Gentleman; and in this we follow the Noble Romans, who did wear a Buskin, called in their Language Cothurnus, and left to the inferiour rabble the little property called Soccus, which came no higher than the ankle, in the same manner as we leave shooes to Men only of base Condition. But the Romans indeed had no true Boots, but something like to Boots; for had they Boots, and known their convenience, and their profit, they had erected a Temple to the honour of them, as well as to all other things which they esteemed, and on the Altar they would have placed a God desse booted and spurred, who for her Priests and Sacrificers should have had Curriers and Shoo-makers, and her Victims should have been Cows and Bullocks, whose skins had been flead off to make Boots withall. But what need we prepare a Temple for them, since every one doth carry them about him in his heart, and on his feet; and there are some who have gone above three years together in one pair of Boots only, to the end only that they might appear the most brave, and the most fashionable Men in this City? The Knights of the Round Table were alwayes so armed, that it seemed their arms were not buckled, but did grow upon their bodies. The Centaures were always on horseback, and did sit so fast in the Saddle, that it seemed the Horse and they were but one piece; and for that Cause the Poets feigned they were half Men and half Horses: so, not to forget [Page 26]the Boots, It seems to me that it ought to be one of our Members, and when any one is killed in war, we should only say that he hath left off his Boots, as if they were the only residence of his Soul, and the essential part of a Cavallier, which did choose rather to inhabit there than in the Body; And to speak the truth, it is from thence we should take the courage to manage the Horse on all occasions, to which practice of Horsemanship we do often owe the safety of our lives.
It will be here objected, that a Baron having found a Shepherdesse in the Fields, was so inamoured of her, that he did give his Horse to his Lackey, and did take her into a private place along with him to gather a Rose, but the Girl desiring him that he would permit her first to pluck off his Boots, for fear that he might spoil her Coats and Stockings with the durt of them, did only pull his Boots but half off, and fled away, leaving him so intangled, that on the first step he made to follow her, he fell down amongst the thorns, which lamentably and revengfully did scratch and tear his face. Behold here a sad accident▪ but it is to be imputed only to his own folly, who suffered himself to be so much abused. Boots are not to be thought the worse of for that misfortune; It is with those the Curate doth gallop to a benefice, with those the Merchant doth adventure to his Traffick, with those the Lovers do ride to see their Mistresses. There is a necessity for gallant men to wear them, if they will appear to be that which they are, and for other men to wear them also, if they will appear to be that which they are not. If a man be cloathed in black, he is taken for a Citizen, if he be in colours, he is taken for a Player on the Viol, or peradventure for some Judggler, specially if he wears silk stockings of a colour different from his cloaths, but if he hath Boots on, it doth enrich and ennoble all manner of habiliments. Let no man blame me therefore for being Booted, if he will not appear to be of a Spirit Heteroclital.
This was the substance of the demonstrative Oration which Hortensius made for Boots, and I would I could remember the Latine passages which he intermingled with it. We pretended that we did like it excellently well, and the first time afterwards that Escluses saw him, he presented him with these verses on the same subject.
O how these Verses were pleasing to Hortensius, who believed that Escluses did highly esteem him! he loved him after that better than other men, and [Page 27]my fine Poet continuing to dissemble, obtained of him whatsoever he desired. They never stirred from one another, and it seemed to me that they two were but one. Neverthelesse their friendship at last began to diminish. Ecluses having communicated some verses to Hortensius, the Pedant did not approve them, and the other maintained they were good. Hortensius told him that he did not understand any thing at all, and that he ought not to speak any more to him, for you must understand that he thought himself knowing and able enough to read a Lesson to us all, and believed that he was our King. Ecluses also who at other times was pleased to allow him that title, or whatsoever other that he would arrogate to himself, could not at that time contain himself within the bounds, of silence or of complacence, but told Hortensius that he was as able every way as himself, which did put him into such a choler, that with violence he caused him to go out of his Chamber, and threatned to beat him, if he should persist any longer against him. Escluses addressed himself to me, to acquaint me with the quarrel that was betwixt them; I told him, that it was not well done of him, seeing Hortensius had lent him money, and done him many other courtesies, and that he must not fall out with him, if he would not have it to be believed, that one of them was of as bad a humour as the other, and that it belonged to his discretion to dissemble and passe by offences. This did prevail so much upon him, that on the next morning he very early repaired to Hortensius to make his peace with him. He was then in bed, but his Servitor opened the door for him, and Escluses being entred into the Chamber did speak thus unto him, I must sincerely professe (Monsieur Hortensius) that in your works you are more than a Man, but in your choler you are worse than a Beast.
Hortensius, feeling himself touched, did rise out of the Bed in a red Cap, and a red Wastcoat, and made answer to him, If I am a Beast, I am that Beast of the Paradise of Mahomet, who hath Eyes of Saphyre, and Feet of Emeraulds, his Body of burnished Gold, and on his Brest twelve pretious stones, that is to say, the Sardoix, the Yopase, the Emerauld, the Carbunclc, the Diamond, the Agatt, the Saphyre, the Jasper, the Amethyst, the Chrysolite, the Onix, and the Beriil. If you have all those pretious stones (said Esclnses) I do vow unto you, you are the bravest, and the richest Beast in the world. I tell you moreover (said Hortensius) If I am a Beast, I am one of those Beasts of Heaven, who give light unto the Earth, as the Bear, the Dragon, the Swan, the Pegasus the Crab, the Scorpion, the Capricorn, the Whale, the Centaure, and the Hydra. He made such a sound with those words, and smiled as he pronounced them, as if he had spoken some excellent thing. Escluses made answer, I doubt not of the truth of that which you speak, but which of those Beasts doe you most resemble? Do you crawl backwards as a Crab, or have you horns in your Forehead as the Capricorn? Hortensius replyed, that he compared himself to the Swan, and Escluses indeavouring to turn all into an upbraiding mirth, Hortensius did grow again into a great choler. At the same instant I arrived, and made them both friends; Neverthelesse I could not produce a right understanding betwixt them, and Hortensius hating Escluses, would hate also all those who did keep him company, insomuch that I was in the number of his Enemies, which was the occasion that I contrived a way to make my self merry with him.
One day walking on the New-bridge, I saw a man on Horseback towards the Augustines, who had on him a furred Coat, a Taffety Cloak, a Sword hanging on his right side, and a Hatband made of Teeth, which were filled all to one evennesse; His garb was as antick as his Habit, so that I stood still a while to look upon him: He stayed at the foot of the Bridge, and although there were not any one near unto him, he began to speak in this manner, and to ask questions of his Horse for want of better company, Come hither my [Page 28]Horse, and tell me, Wherefore is it that we are come into this place? If thou knewest how to speak, thou wouldest make answer, To do service to all honest people. But some one will say unto me, Gentleman of Italy, in what is it that you can be serviceable to us? To draw your teeth (Gentlemen) without putting you to any pain at all, and to put others in their places, with which you may eat as well as with teeth naturally your own. And with what dost thou pluck them out? With the point of a Sword? No Gentlemen, That way is too old. It it with this which I hold in my hand And what is it which thou holdest in thy hand, Signior of Italy? My horses bridle, Gentlemen. This Tooth-drawer had no sooner begun this goodly Oration, but a Porter, a Lacky, a Woman that cryed Cherries, three that cryed Mackarel, two Apprentices, a Ragg-man and a seller of Almanacks, did all stand still to hear him. For my self (pretending as though I looked upon some of those old Books which the Booksellers do there commonly lay forth upon their Stalls) I did listen to him as well as the rest. Having so many venerable Auditors he re-inforced his eloquence, and did continue in these words, Who is he that draws out the teeth of Kings and Princes? Is it the Carmelite? Or the English man in the yellow Ruff? Is it Master Arnault? who to make the world believe that he is a Tooth drawer for Potentates, hath painted about his own Picture the Pope and all the Consistory of Cardinals, every one of them with a black plaister above his temple, representing thereby, that none of them are exempted from the Tooth ache; No, No, It is not he. Who is it then that draweth out the teeth of those great Princes? It is the Italian Gentleman whom you see. It is my self (Gentlemen.) It is I. I it is who am the Man. He did speak that shewing himself in a full body to them all, and laying his hand upon his Brest. Many other fopperies he represented, and asked all the questions of himself, and undertook to deliver himself in pure Italian, when he was by his birth no other than a Norman. To hear him speak, it you could but believe him, as well as hear him, there is not any one who would have a tooth any longer in his head. He presented a Beggar to them from whom he had taken six teeth, he had put them in but a little before, and holding something in his mouth which was moist, and of a red complexion, he seemed alwayes to be spitting of bloud. Gentlemen (said the Mountebank) I cure the Souldiers for courtesie, the Poor for the honour of God, and the rich Merchants for money. You may see what it is to have a tooth vitiated, rotten, or corrupted. You will go to a Senator to recommend your Sute unto him, you begin to open your Cause, he turns aside from you, and cryes out, Oh the putrefaction! Withdraw my Friend, your breath is very noysome, he will not endure to come near to hear you, and so your Cause is lost. But you will say unto me, Have you any Remedy for it? Yes, Gentlemen, I have, and for many other Inconveniences: I have a Pommada to make fair the skin, It is white as Snow, and odoriferous as Balm or Musk. See here my Boxes, This great one will cost you eight Souses, the little one with the writing, five; I have an excellent Oyntment for all wounds, If any one be hurt, I can cure him; I am neither Physician, Doctor, nor Philosopher, but my Oyntment is as soveraign, and can do as much, as all the Philosophers, Doctors, and Physicians in the world; Experience is better than bare knowledge and the Practick than the Theory.
Whiles the Mountebank did thus extoll his own Art, many honest people gathered about him, and amongst others, Hortensius, whom I well observed. I immediatly entertained an Invention to make him the Ladder on which my mirth should climb, I stayed there not long after; for the Toothdrawer was constrained to retire. There came another Mountebank on horseback who laughed him to scorn, and did strike at him with the flat of his Sword. Since they were both so cunning, and so prompt in the drawing of Teeth, I knew not why in a revengefull emulation, they might not draw one [Page 29]another off their Horses, I hoped they would have done it, but our Italian fled, and would appear no more, giving place unto the other.
One Morning I repaired to him with Escluses, and said unto him, Sir, there is a Kinsman of ours who is much troubled with the pain of his Teeth, we have advised him to have them drawn, but he is so extremely fearfull, that we cannot prevail upon him to resolve upon it; He saith, that you will put him to torment, although that very lately he hath seen you to take our many Teeth without any pain at all, a little beneath the Bridge. Alas, Sir, said the Mountebanck, I will not put him to any pain, If you please that I shall presently take out one of your Teeth, you shall perceive how swift and easie is my hand. No (said I) I will believe you rather, But our Kinsman is afraid that having no teeth, he cannot chew his meat for the time to come, nor pronounce his words so pleasingly as now he doth. If you provide for that inconvenience by artificial teeth, you will do him a greater pleasure than he is yet sensible of, in delivering him from so great a torment; I know the man very well, and he would with all his heart that it were done, therefore we do desire you to go to him, and whether he will or no, to take out those teeth that are so painfull to him. You are so excellent at it, that when he but opens his mouth to speak unto you, you may draw them out, and he never so much as think of what you are doing. That being done, he will pay you very thankfully, if not, we will see you satisfied our selves. The Mountebanck believing our words, we acquainted him with the house in which Hortensius lodged, and the Mountebanck foreseeing the difficulties that might ensue, did take with him two Voluntiers to accompany him, and, if need were, to aid him in his enterprise. Hortensius, who would take any pains for a livelyhood, had with him four Scholars who were Pensioners and were then going to the College of Bon Court. He caused them to repeat their Lesson when these people entred in. Sir, said the Mountebanck, your Kinsmen have told me that you have teeth which do put you to great torment, Is it your pleasure that I should draw them? Who I (said Hortensius) I have better teeth Sirrah than thy self, thou mistakest me for another. No (said the Mountebanck) It was told me that you would conceal the pain you endure, that I might not draw them out, but I am commanded to ease you for ever of that torment, I must perform it. Boys, hold him fast, and open his mouth as wide as you can, I will put you, Sir, to such little pain, that you shall not feel it at all. The two Voluntiers whom he brought along with him, did begin to take him by the arms, according to their instructions, but he did beat them back, and did strike at them with all the force he had whereupon the Mountebanck said unto the Scholars, Gentlemen, Assist us, I beseech you, I must pluck out your Masters teeth, I have a command laid on me so to do, It ought to be done, and he would be very glad of it himself, but he fears that I should hurt him, and I will not put him to the least pain in the world; The Scholars believing it, did begin to take hold of their Master, and he had much to do to clear himself from so many hands. At the last he said unto them, What! Be you also against me? Do you not see what bold Impostors these are who affront me? If you will not defend me, I will complain to your Fathers of you. Speaking those words, they did let him alone, and all turned upon the Mountebanck, and his two Companions, and not without some difficulty they did beat them away; Hortensius took a good Cudgel, with which he struck the Mountebanck, and forced him to go out of doors with his retinue, who durst not defend him against a man who was stronger than themselves, being in his own house, and upon his own defence. The Voluntiers being in the street demanded of the Mountebanck their hire for their good service they had done. He told them, that he had received no money at all, and contested so much with them that they did fall upon him to beat him, and had broken his head if the Neighbours had not [Page 30]interposed and parted them. I know not well how it was with the Tooth-drawer, but Hortensius afterwards took great pleasure when any mention was made of this adventure.
He knew not that I had any hand in this affair, so that one day meeting me in Paris, he did accost me, and made his complaint that he did not see me oftner. I made answer to him, that I had made a little journey out of the City, and was ready to make a greater, for I was determined to go into Italy.
This Journey pleased him so well, that he would goe along with me, disclaiming all the interests which he had in France. He believed that this Country, and especially this City, being full of Prelats, that good Letters would be more acceptable, and that he should be more esteemed in Rome, than when he was at Paris. For my self, who am not so moving and so hasty as Escluses, I have travelled all the whole journey in great peace with him, and have not laughed openly at his extravagancies, but on the contrary have modestly reproved him for some faults, and above all, have indeavoured to make him abandon his pedantick humours, and those scattered Latin Rubricks, with which he always intermingles his discourse.
Audebert having in this manner finished his History of Hortensius, Francion intreated him to give him an assurance when he should see him; he affirmed, that he did highly esteem of him, to the end that he might come more freely to give him a visit, and to have some pastime with him. Raymond also and Dorini had a great desire to see so rare a personage, insomuch that Audebert made a promise to them to bring him with him as soon as possibly he could. They had all a design to make him the subject of their pleasure, as heretofore they had done, in which there was nothing for which they might be condemned. All that we shall collect serveth only to laugh at the impertinence of some foolish and presumptuous persons, and there shall nothing be contained in this story that shall give the least offence to the most scrupulous apprehensions; you shall find no more conceits but only of innocent mirth in all the following History, where the most cunning having deceived many others, shall at the last be met with and paid in their own Coyn, which may instruct us to undervalue none, and to live our selves a more governed life.
THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF THE COMICAL HISTORY OF FRANCION.
HOrtensius was so well perswaded by Audebert, that on the next morning he came to give a visit to Francion, who received him with many testimonies of joy. This brave Master thought yet to have found him his Scholar, to whom he might have taught many important Lessons, insomuch that to shew him he was incomparably able to perform it, he affected certain Phrases which he had learn'd by heart, to serve him on all occasions. How my brave Francion! (thus he begun) I believed that you could no more easily remove from Paris, than could the Arsenac or the Palace, and that we should see you as constantly at the Louvre, as the Stones of the great Stairs, or the Hall of the Switzers. Francion, to give him an exchange by a Complement like unto it, did reply unto him, I conceived, grave Hortensius, that we should have found you to continue as long in the Vniversity of Paris, as the Well Certain, or as the Schools of the Decrees, or the Kitchin of the Carmelites, or Monsieur Royer, the Diogenes of the Age. You see (replyed Hortensius) I am come hither to rank my self near unto those who apparel themselves in the colour of Roses, and to whom the objects most gratefull to the eyes are not distastefull; But Sir, I am informed you only are come hither to make love, and to renounce that Liberty which was as dear unto you as the Republick of Venice. Have you suffer'd your self to lose a thing, for which the Hollanders fifty years together have made War with the King of Spain? You love some Beauty, who in the height of the Combat will let the arms fall down from the hands even of Monsieur du Mayn himself. I must confesse unto you (said Francion) the truth in some part of that which you have spoken; but not that I am like to the Venetians, or to the Hollanders: Those Comparisons are too farre removed; but, I beseech you, let us go up unto the Chamber of Count Raymond, who will be very glad to see you, We will there discourse more fully of our affairs.
Thereupon Buisson and Audebert, who were with Hortensius, did go up the stairs without any Intreaty; but Hortensius could not be perswaded to go up before Francion, so courteous and so humble he was. Monsieur, (said Hortensius) Be pleased to go before, you need to have a greater Virtue than patience to follow after me. I have been sick during the time of my travel. I have no leggs left me, but only by the way of civil deportment to make my reverence to my Betters. My Body is as diseased as if it were the Popes; and at [Page 2]six and thirty years, I am no lesse ruined than is the Castle of Ostend, I am more old than my Grandmother, and as much used as a Vessel which thrice hath made a Voyage to the Indies. Francion smiling, said unto him, Sir, If you had said that you had beed used as much as the great Cauldron of the Friers, would not the similitude be better? Mock not, I beseech you (said Hortensius) for on my faith, neither in the Deserts of Africa, nor at the Fair of Saint Germans, is there so cruel a Monster to be seen, as hath been my sicknesse; But for your part, Sir, you have so strong a Body, and so impregnable against all Diseases, that nothing is capable to alter it, unlesse the fall of some Mountain should overthrow you. You are able of your self to people Colonies. All this is nothing (said Francion) your Excuses are not valuable; If you will not go up the stairs of your own accord, I protest unto you I must help you as I come up after you. I must beseech you put me not to that Trouble. I would have you know, that there is no Honor which I do not owe unto your merit. Hortensius replyed, Sir, you but teach me that which I should speak my self, Will you not give me leave to know my self, and that I should forget my own Name, as if I were some Pope? Sir, I must professe unto you, that you are more fill'd with Complements and Ceremonies, than the Old Testament, or the Court of Rome. Let me stay upon these Stairs till the end of the World, I shall defend my self from that Enemy well enough, who throws nothing but Roses on my head, and beats me not, but with a Foxes tail. Let us not discourse then of the Pope, or of his Court (said Francion) we are now at Rome, where we must be wise whether we will or no. Are you not afraid of the Inquisition? Not I, said (Hortensius) I fear it not. Let them make never so many terrible Pictures, and Figures full of Tigers and Serpents, my Innocence shall out-live them.
Raymond, who from his Chamber understood that these Gentlemen were in their long Ceremonies, did come down the Stairs, and made Hortensius to go up first, whether he would or not. Francion said unto him, Sir, We ought to give extraordinary entertainment to this rare personage, who is the only honour of France. Ah Sir (said Hortensius!) turning towards him, I beseech you to have a just regard to whom you attribute these terms of only, rare, and extraordinary, for they are proper to the Sun, the Comets, or some Creatures of stupendious excellence. I shut my ears to these praises, as I do my doors to Enemies and Thieves. Let us rather dispute of your merit, I must professe that you are more eloquent than all the Parlaments, Presidentiaries, and Seneschals, or the subalternate Courts of Iustice in France. When you lodged in Saint Iames his Street, you were the most able man that lived there, no dispraise to the Iacobins, or the Iesuists. Francion replyed, you flatter me too much. Speak no more of me, Let us talk of Raymond and Buisson. What shall I say of them (replyed Hortensius) but that they are the two rare workmanships of Nature? If all the world were like unto them, the Universities would be the most unprofitable part of the Commonwealth, and Latin (as the Entertainment at Milan) would be rather a witnesse of our Luxury, than an effect of our Necessity. Francion made answer, You do not give them now that Honor which is due unto them, to imply that they understand not Latin; but suppose they should not know it, and should undervalue it, as the greatest part of the Court do at this day, must we therefore say that Latin is improfitable? Think better of your antient Livelihood, I beseech you, and consider, that Latin ought not to have the least mixture with any riotous entertainment. When Francion spoke this, he so smiled withall, that Hortensius was not offended, who still continued to set forth his Eloquence, the new stile whereof astonished all the world.
He came at last to speak of the pleasures at Rome, concerning which he had many extravagant expressions. He said, that the Servants sprinkled so much [Page 3]Sweet-water in his Chamber, that he was even glad to swim to save his own life; that the Muscats he did eat were so great, that only one grain of them was enough to make all England to be perpetually drunk; And speaking of the Mistresse of Francion, he said, that he esteemed her to be most happy to have captivated him, and preferred that Victory of hers, above all those of the Prince of Orange, or of Henry the Great. But he said he nourished an infectious fear, that in often seeing of Francion, he should at the last become amorous, as Fr ncion was, and that he should not be able to look upon a handsom Beggar, without some secret desires; and moreover he was highly afraid that he should fall in love at last with some disdainfull Creature, who having flattered him to his destruction, and thrown him down the Precipice, would say unto him in the end of all, God save thee.
After that, they came to discourse of Books, and he affirmed they were the greatest part of them so ill made, that after the ordinary Ballads, and the Bills of Quacksalvers, he found nothing so ill. For his own part, he had sought out all the Remedies that could be imagined against the Ignorance of the Age, and perfectly had found out an elaborate Idea of Eloquence. He used moreover so many extraordinary terms, that Francion could not with any patience have endured him, if he had continued to speak as he had begun; for there was nothing in the whole composition of his stile, but strange Hyperboles, and Comparisons drawn from far, that they much resembled the ravings of a Man in a Feaver, or the Language of the Emperor of the Corn-cutters. What, said Hortensius, Do you find defects and blemishes in the face of the Sun? It is a long time (you know) since I have excelled all others, and have found out that, which they in vain have sought for. They who will not believe me, let them erre amongst the Turks and Infidels, who are the greatest part of the World. Take heed what you speak (said Buisson,) one may prove by the same Consequence, that if the Pope and the Capuchins do not praise your works, they shall be taken to be as very Turks as Amurath, or Bajazet; which is very dangerous to allege. Do you make it an Article of Faith to believe that you write well? Hortensius, with a forced laughter, did reply, Be silent, vulgar Spirit, and know, that my Works are worthy to be laid on the fairest Beds of France; but take heed (said Buisson) that it be not on the beds of those who have taken Physick, and will take your Books along with them to their Stool of Office.
Raymond, observing they began to grow into words, did take off their choler, by putting them on another Subject, and demanded of Hortensius, If he had not wherewith to make them to pass their time away with pleasure; whereupon he shewed them a Book of his, in which he derided whatsoever the Antients had written. Francion did importunately intreat him that homight see it, so that being no longer able to resist him, he said unto them, Gentlemen, To give you a sight of small pieces, as Letters, or Sonnets, I will not do it at this present, I will speak unto you of a Romance, which is better than all Histories; for even my distempers are of more worth than the meditations of the Philosophers. I will do that which hath yet never entred into the thought of mortal man. You know that some Wise men have affirmed, that there are many worlds, which some have placed in the Planets, and others in the fixed Starrs; For my part, I believe that there is a world in the Moon. Those spots which we see in the face thereof when she is full, I do conceive to be the Earth, and that there are Caves, and Forests, and Isles, and other things which are not fully represented; but the places which are resplendent are the Seas, which being clear, do receive the light of the Sun, as doth the brightnesse of a Mirror. Take heed (said Francion) what it is which you affirm; The Earth which you speak of, is the same Earth wherein we are, and he who speaketh of things done here, will appear too vulgar. Hortensius made answer, I will describe [Page 4]the things only which are in the body of the Moon; I will describe the Cities which are there, and the manners of the Inhabitants, and the horrible enchantments.
There will be a Prince as ambitious as Alexander, who shall come to conquer this world; He shall make great provision of Engins, either to descend, or to ascend (for to speak the truth, I do not yet know whether we are above that world, or beneath) He shall bring with him another Archimides, who shall make him all manner of structures, and ladders, by the means whereof he shall enter into the Epycicle of the Moon excentrick to our Earth, and there it shall be where he shall sind some place habitable, where shall be Nations unknown, whom he shall overcome. From thence he shall transport himself into the great Orb, sloping to the part Epicycle, where he shall find vast fields which shall be peopled only by Monsters; And pursuing his adventures, he shall tilt with the Cavalliers along the Eccliptick line. After that he shall visit the two Coluri, and the Meridian Circle, where he shall meet with many gallant metamorphoses, but approaching too near the Sun, he and his people shall gain a malady, for which God hath provided no remedy but poyson, and precipices. He shall have a feaver upon him which shall burn so violently, that if the antient Tyrants and Pagan Princes had heard of it, they would have tormented the Martyres with it, and never exposed them to the bitings of venimous beasts.
This is the end which I will put unto this work, which shall last as long as Nature her self, in spite of the envious and malicious spirits that shall condemn it. Consider now with your self if these are not the strains of a transcendent understanding. All the Company were surprized with amazement to hear such grand extravancies, and to receive yet greater pleasure from Hortensius, Raymond seeming to admire him, did say unto him, Certainly I never heard any thing so divine, as is this which you relate unto us; I would to God, that as you have given us now, but as it were the first draughts of it, you would be pleased another time, to give us the more full sight thereof in all its particulars. It is enough for this present (said Hortensius) I will now deliver some other observations of Importance to you. Know then, that if the world doth seem unto us to be great. our bodies do appear in comparison of it to be no bigger than an Apple, or a Ball. Now there is no body so little which cannot be divided into innumerable parts, so that it may be, that within such, or such a little Body, there may be yet lesse Creatures, and so little, that they may live there, as in a spacious world, and possibly they may be little men, to whom some good fortunes answerable to the proportion of their bodies do accrew. In this consideration there is not so little nor so despicable a part of the Universe where we may not imagine but there are little worlds. I will make a Romance of the adventures of their people; I will sing of their loves, and of their wars, and the revolution of their Empires; and above all, I will study to represent the Estate where people may be which inhabit the body of Man, and I will demonstrate, that not without great reason the Body of Man is called a Microcosm. I will have another treatise by it self, where all the Members of the Body shall shew their disagreement or complyance with one another. The Arms and the Hands shall make war against the Feet, and the Thighs and Eyes shall make love to the Privy Members, the Veins to the Arteries, and the Bones unto the Marrow. This is not all, I have yet an admirable design in my Fancy which shall take away the glory from Argenis and Charic [...]ea. I will make a Romance upon the waters, where I will build Cities, more stately and more magnificent than any we have on the Coasts of the Mediteranean Seas, or in the Rivers which pay tribute to it, where the Tritons and the Nereids have their residence. All their houses shall be builded with the most pretious stones and pearls. There shall be also Parks and Forrests of [Page 5]Corall, where they shall go to hunt the green Cod, the Herring, and other Fishes. The Trees for the most part shall be of Rushes, and plants, of the most tender growth, and if there shall chance to be any battail or Turnaments, the Lances shall be of the prickles of Roses.
As Hortensius was speaking these words, Francion, desiring to witnesse that he was rapt with admiration, did begin to cry out, O my God! what rich inventions are these? How infortunate were the Antients not to have been born in these times, to hear such excellent things? and how sorry will our Nephews be, that they came into the world too late to have seen you, and to have been acquainted with you? But it is true howsoever, that the best part of you, that is your divine writings, shall still live, and shall flourish amongst them. O Paris, an unfortunate City to have lost such an incomparable wit, and happy art thou, O City of Rome, to have procured it. You understand not all (said Hortensius) I have other designs wherewith to ravish the world. Know, that I have so many Romances to compose, that I am even distracted in the imagination of them: Contemplating of them in my Chamber, me thinks they be always about me in visible forms, like so many little Devils, and that one of them pulls me by the Ear, another by the Nose, a third by the Breeches, and the fourth by the Garters, and that every one says unto me, Monsieur Hortensius, make me first, I am the fairest, and do promise best, Begin with me, and having begun, go through with it, leave not me for another. Upon my faith (said Francion) me thinks I now understand the Fable of these Fairies. It is said that when they go to the stool they do do nothing but Musk, and when they do render their Urine, they make the water of Angels, if they spit or blow their Noses, from their Mouths, and from their Noses there doth proceed Emeraulds and Pearls, and when they wash their hands, instead of foul water, there doth fall down into the Basin pretious stones. I believe the same in every action which Hortensius doth, he doth drop books unto us when he doth go to ease the burthen of Nature, They are his Translations, if he but blowes his Nose, there comes a History from it, and if he spetteth, he spetteth nothing but Romances. I will avow all to be true which you speak (said Hontensius) for you speak only by a Figure, and to expresse my facility of writing: You are still in your old skin, and full of upbraiding mirth, But to demonstrate to you that all that which I speak is not mockery, I will give you a sight of the first draught which I have made of my Romances of the Epicycle, and of that of the parts of the Body, for I travail at one time with two or three things as well as Caesar.
Having spoken this, he did put his hand into his pocket, and did take out a Key, a discoloured and sweaty pair of Gloves, a soul Handkerchief, and some papers as greasie as the Bill of the long expences of a Cook. He turned the leaves over, but could not find that which he looked for, so that he did begin to put it all up again, affirming that he would shew them that rich piece some other time. In putting them up, he did let fall some few of his Papers, but he was so transported with the joy he received to hear himself so excessively praised, that he did not mind it. Francion took them up with his own hands, without speaking any word, with an intention to read them at his leisure; And the better to divert him, he asked him who were the best writers who at that time had the Vogue in Paris. Do not you know them as well as I my self? said Hortensius, there are too many commended who are more worthy to be reproved: You have at the Court three or four young fellows, who make verses more fit for a Ballad, or some ordinary song, than for a Courtiers ear; They have never read any other Books, but the Delights of the French Poesie, and are so extremely ignorant, that it is impossible to be more. Moreover, there are 5 or 6 silly knaves, who gain a livelyhood by writing Romances, there are no other as I know of but an Usher of mine who following me hath served the Jesuists, [Page 6]and doth delight himself by dabling in the Ink to defile white paper, His chief Essay hath been the Collection of Tabarins forced Speeches, which so long time did charm the ears of the brazen Horse, a Book that did find so quick a Market, that Twenty thousand of them have been sold, when the Impression of a good Book, although there are but six hundred of them, will hardly be vented; but there are more people you know who buy Herring, than fresh Salmon, and Buckrom, than Sattin. Fools are in a greater number than Wise men.
This Usher of mine calleth himself Guilliaum, and in the first Romance that ever he printed, you shall find that he was well contented with that Sirname; but a year afterwards, having composed another Book, which he dedicated to the Queen of England, he would appear amongst the Nobility, and therefore in the Title he saith, Composed by Seiur de Guilliaum, to the end that the syllable de might perswade us to believe that he is a Gentleman; but the ignorant Asse doth not perceive, that it is not so much grace to put this Preposition De before the Name of a Sain [...], as before the Name of a Signiory, and is not afraid that the Saints should take offence, and punish him for it, because they never did affect the vanity of the Honours of the world. Besides that, my fine Usher did play another prank as ridiculous as the former, He took up a Sattin Suit at the Brokers, to present his Book, to the end that at the Court he might be taken for a Gentleman, and if the Queen had not given him his Reward presently, he durst not, by reason of his ill habit, have returned any more to the Louvre to prosecute his Sute. But he ought not to make any difficulty at it, or to be ashamed at all; for the sight of his ragged cloaths would have moved pity, and something indeed would have been rather contributed to him by the way of Alms. He hath caused other things to be printed, for he hath taken old books & changed 3 or 4 lines at the beginning, & caused them to be afterwards printed with new titles, to abuse the people; but I swear unto you, if I were one of the Judges, I would punish as grievously such falsifiers of books, as those who coyn false mony, or do counterfeit Obligations and Contracts. To conclude, my Servant hath written already more than my self; but his Books be all good for nothing else, but to wrap up butter in them; and it is said, that the last winter the Butter-women had a desire to go all together to him, to give him thanks that he made provision for them, when the Leaves of the Vines failed. The Parlament neverthelesse, who regard not their particular profit, should, for their greater honour, have condemned him to drink as much Ink as he hath ill imployed, and I would have him to take a full Cup of it from the hands of the Hangman. There are others worthy of the same punishment, but for their own defence they will all say, as he who was to be bastinadoed for having stollen away a Romance from Queen Margaret of Navarre, and afterwards caused it to be printed, Woe is me! Pardon me I beseech you, that which I have done was only to procure me bread. I had no Intention of my self to doe evill. But let us have Pence amongst our selves, and discourse no more of this. I would not that my Eloquence should be as pernitious as the Beauty of Helena, I understand well enough the visages of the Hebrides, and cachochimichal humors, and erroneous pretences, and Varlets cloathed in the skins of Lions, for they never change their habits, who entertain the people with their distempers to procure themselves a little bread, and neverthelesse do cause themselves to be painted with a Crown of Laurel on their heads, as if they were those illustrious personages whose lifes are recorded by Plutarch, or as if they had gotten the prise in the Olympick games. Another time I will speak more unto them, I will then thunder against them, and condemn them to the Galleys, because they are so unprofitable to the world; An Oar would do better in their hands than a Pen.
[Page 7]This Discourse of Hortensius was [...]arre more agreeable to the Company than all the other which he made; but this would not prevail to cause his Auditors to entertain a good opinion of him, and Francion, with impatience desiring to peruse those papers which he had taken from him, did begin to look upon them, and found they were leaves which he had torn out of other looks. Hertensius observing him to read, and by the fashion of the leaves conjecturing what they were, said unto him, Ah Monsieur, I beseech you to restore those Papers unto me. I will by and by, said Francion, but I will first read them over. No, replyed Hortensius, I will give you whatsoever you will desire of me, provided that you will not read those papers. And I, said Francion, will give you whatsoever you shall desire of me, if you will but give me leave to read them over. Speaking those words, he locked up himself in a Wardrobe with Raymond, and having perused those loose and printed sheets, he found the greatest part of those Phrases in them, which Hortensius had that day spoken. He came afterwards to restore them to him, and instantly did request him to tell him out of what Authors those pieces did proceed. Hortensius made answer, That the sheets came from an Author, who was the first man that had taught the world Eloquence; but he would shortly make it appear that he was not the only Wonder. Say you so, replyed Francion, I do believe I understand your design: I do remember when I was in the College with you, you did indevour so much to imitate Maleherb, and Coiffeteau, (as Raymond may perceive by your Discourse, of which I have given him an account) that on my faith it did render you ridiculous; you would do the same again with this new Author upon all occasions, as you make it apparent by all the Discourses which you have had with us. But take heed how you imitate any Author in that which is defective or impertinent. To imitate such, is to imitate a man who is alwayes coughing, or breaking wind backwards. I remember, that when I was at Paris, I had a Lackey who was extremely enamour'd on a Maid-servant in the next house. Having found in my Study the Loves of Nerveza and Desescuteaux, which I kept to make me laugh, he did tear out all the leaves where the Complements were, and learned them by heart, to repeat them to his Mistresse, and carried them alwayes in his pocket to study on them, for fear he should forget them. I believe that you tread in the same path as he hath done, my dear Master.
Having spoken those words, he began to use such Mimick gestures about Hortensius, and observing that he looked stedfastly on the ground, without turning to any side, and that his hat did hang down over his eyes, he plucked off his Hat to see what he had within it, and found in the bottom of the crown a Book of some bulk, in which he had written, A Salute at the first Entrance, The Serious Entertainment, The Jovial Interlocution, and The Farewell, or Complement at the Departure. And in the purfute of these Titles, he had in the end of every one of them elegant Phrases, which were all new. What? said Francion, Are these the things which you have to shew unto us? You may be e'en jogging now, we shall be all of us well satisfied by that time as we shall have read them over.
The ill adventure of Hortensius, accompanied with those scoffs, did so incense him, that he had gone away, were it not, that having lost his Book, he had forgotten his Complement of Departure. Francion being unwilling to provoke him any further, did say unto him with a most pleasant sweetnesse of voice, You observe, Sir, that as the natural whitenesse of the complexion, is more agreeable by farre, than that which doth proceed from Painting, so the proper Subjects we discourse on, and which we invent of our selves, are better than those which we take out of Common places. I should more extoll the language of the College, than that which you affect. Hortensius was so ashamed, that he knew not what answer to return, and Francion changing the [Page 8]Subject of his Discourse, did intreat him to leave with him what he had of the works his new Author. Hortensius did readily consent unto it, and to put him again in a good humour, they did speak no more of what was passed, but did fall on praising the incomparable Inventions of his fabulous Histories, so that he departed well-contented with his Disciple.
After his departure, Francion did turn over the leaves which he had lent him, and perceived they were Letters addressed to several persons. His judgement thereon was, there was many good things in the Author, and to balance that, there were also as many bad, so that if some of them deserve crowns, others did merit the lash; Besides, he descryed, that what was good in them was all stolen out of antient books, and that which was impertinent did proceed from the Author himself: Neverthelesse, it might well be that the ignorant might approve them well enough, they being the only men that did esteem them, who took no heed to discover the thefts, because they never did read any good book. There was nothing within them to observe, but certain fancies, which had much of the Air of those of Turlupin, and were untowardly mingled among things of Gravity and State. The Author did write unto Cardinals, and other grave personages, as if he had been speaking to some voluptuous people, who had taken delight to hear their vanities repeated and reputed. Francion observed also some other particularities, at which he laughed with Raymond, both of them wondring at the high estimation which was given to such works, and how that he who made them could have that presumption which he testified in his writings; Another book ought to be made in that, to mark the faults of it all over. But let us leave these follies of the time, and let them be praised by those who have a mind unto it, it is of no consequence at all, since there is no man doth constrain us to extoll them. I do believe it will never be, for Kings have something else to doe than to make Edicts to that effect.
Francion being retired from reading that book, the extravagancies whereof did afford him much pleasure, he did bring it back himself to Hortensius, saying nothing to him of it either good or bad. He had no more a desire to make himself merry at any subject which arrived, Love did too much prosecute him, and he did goe to wait upon Nays, who, were he alone, or were he accompanied, did content her self to testifie the courtesie to him, and would not have it to proceed as far as love.
He at that time had received money in Rome from the hands of a Money-Merchant, so that he increased his train, and began to be wonderfully gallant. He lived at a great rate with Raymond, who called him brother, so that one of them was every where esteemed for a Count, as indeed he was, and the other for a Marquesse. He oftentimes gave visitation to his Mistresse, and in the close of the Evening would always sing after the Musicians, to make himself and his love more apparent. What Lady could not be overcome by his merit? He had a good garb, He did sing well, He did play on many Instruments of Musick, He was of a sweet disposition, and of the most complacent in the world; a Gentleman of a great knowledge, and who discoursed excellently well, and did write far better, and not on one subject only, but on all; He composed both in Verse and in Prose, and was admirable in both. When he discoursed on a serious subject there proceeded nothing but wonders from him, and when he would exercise his fancy in a Satyrick mirth, he would have made the severest Stoick to laugh outright. There are many to be seen who have some one of these perfections, but how rare are they who have them all, and especially in so eminent a degree as he was master of them? He was the Subject of all the discourse at Rome. There was not any one who durst openly appear to be his Rival, and those who did know that he had setled his affections on Nays, did esteem her to be most happy in so accomplished a Servant; [Page 9]Moreover, he was found to be of honourable parentage, and to have in France such large possessions, that he deserved to have her for his Wife. She had a good and a great opinion of him, but her fear was that he would not espouse an Italian, and that having passed away some time in courting her, he would return into his own Country. She communicated this her fear to Dorini, who did discover it to Raymond, and both of them did go to Francion to acquaint him with it. Brother, you see, said Raymond, It is now time to conclude, and to be no longer passionate for Nays; you professe that you love her above all things, Consider, if you can resolve with your self to passe away your life with her; She is fair and rich, and which is more, she loveth you; Delay her no longer, if you will not marry her, and intend to leave her, you do but hinder some one else, who would be a servant to her; you will gain nothing by her but by marriage, she is too wise to part with her honour; If you love her so entirely as you professe, take her to your Wife. Francion embracing him did reply, My dear Brother, If I conceived my self to be worthy of that which you propound unto me, I should arrive to the height of all my joys. Dorini interrupting him, did promise that he had spoken as much for him as was possible, and he believed that his Cosin would not disdain him. He failed not the same day to pursue his accustomed sollicitations, and in the prosecution of it, Francion himself in the Afternoon did make his addresses to her, where so fully he declared his service, that they both made a promise to love one another eternally, and to accomplish their marriage as soon as their affairs could permit.
Francion the next morning dispatched a Post with Letters to his Mother, to advise her of his good fortune, & entertaining no more any care that might feed upon his spirit, his only imployment was to passe away his time in delight, and to make his Mistresse to be partaker of it. He would every morning breath himself, and his Horse, in running at the Ring; After Dinner he often danced in Masks, and made sumptuous Feasts, and in every thing he did shew himself so magnificent, that he charmed the hearts of all the Italians. The gallant Spirits of Rome made it their ambition to be acquainted with him. There were no Verses composed but in the praises only of him, and of his Mistresse, but they were not comparable to those which he did make himself. Hortensius made Verses also, and did infinitely extoll him. Amongst other things he made Achrosticks, and Anagrams, as being most proper to his Pedantick Genius. He made also other Verses, where in many places he did equivocate upon his Name, and the letters of it. He informed him that his name was Francion because he was so Frank and free, and because he was the bravest man among all the French, and that if any one should undertake to write his History, he must call it Franciade, and that it would be in as great esteem as that of Ronsard, and if Francion the Son of Hector was the common Father of the French, this Francion of our Age must be the Protector of the French, and capable to furnish them with most excellent Counsell. Francion demanded of him if he would do him the honour as to digest his Adventures into order, and make them memorable to Posterity, but Hortensius made answer, that he did leave that charge to himself, and that there was not any one who more lively than himself could represent those fortunes to which himself arrived. Some few days afterwards being alone with Raymond, he recited to him the answer of Hortensius, Raymond did very well approve of it, and demanded of him if he would not one day take the pains to compile his own History, which was so worthy to be known, and if he had not a desire to see in publick under his own name so many brave works which he had composed. He replyed, I have not wrote so much as you believe, and some things may be shewen to you, as proceeding from me, which are but meer Impostures. Besides, what pleasure shall I receive to see a Book printed in my Name, seeing there are abroad so [Page 10]many Ignorant and ridiculous Pamphlets which every day do disgrace the Presse. I leave it to you to judge, since Hortensius and his Usher are of the same Trade, that the people that shall hear of them, looking on other Books, wil believe that they do proceed from persons of the same Complexion. All which I have done as yet, hath been as privat as hath been possible for me to do, and to solace my self when I was constrained to be a Shepherd, I made a Book, which I believe will be passable enough, but it is not my desire that every one should see it. I can now be too hard for you, said Raymond, I have the Key of the Cabanet where all your papers are, which I will not restore unto you, till I have perused that Piece. You will have much to do to find it, replyed Francion, for it is in a sure place; for know, it is not written, but in my Memory, only but allow me some Pen-men, and in eight dayes I will dictate the whole work intirely to them. Your Memory, said Raymond, is admirable, and your Judgement is no lesse. But tell me, By what Name do you call those Books which you have composed? Francion made answer, There is one Book of Love, which I have dedicated, or had rather a desire to dedicate, to Ph [...]lemon, I have heretofore made mention of it to you, and since that time I have wrote another Book of Field Recreations, with some Playes and Comedies, and other Inventions. There is also another Book in which I have pleasantly described some of my adventures, which I call The Errors of Youth. If any one shall impose any other Book upon me, I shall disavow it. It is true, that not long since a Friend told me, You have composed several Books, for you have made this, and that, and another Book, and named a number of Books. On my Faith (said I unto him) you have not yet the perfect number of them; If you will be exact, to mark all that is done amiss, I will shew you some pieces which I did write at eighteen years of age, and will you put those also into the number of my Books? That Answer stopped his mouth; and I must assure you, if you will oblige me to you, you must forget those petty follies of my Youth, and not reproach me with them. I was then but of a tender age, and therefore I ought to be excused. Would you believe, that even that Book made in my Nonage, hath found some to commend it? Not long since I did go to give a visit to one of my Friends, whom I had the happinesse to find in his Chamber. There was a Gentleman who was well acquainted with us both, and one of his Kinsmen, who did not know me; who falling into Discourse of that Book, the other demanded of him, If there were not good things in it? He made answer, They were very rare things. I asked of him, what he found well in it? & talked a long time of it, as of an indifferent thing. He did the like, and freely told me, That, in his opinion the Author did too much amuse himself in Scholastick meditations. I coldly replyed to him, and without altering my Countenance, That it was that which pleased me, and which, I believed, would please also all Ingenious people, since there are no Men of Quality who have not had their Education in the Vniversity. He was surprized with amazement to find that I was the Author of the Book which he undervalued; and afterwards, to cover his fault, he told me, that he did like it very well himself. I protest unto you, (said Raymond then to Francion) This is one of the most generous actions that I have ever heard of; and moreover this ingenious way to discover your self was truly excellent. A Fool would have leaped into a Rage, and called all the World to witness; but for you, there is nothing here to be found, that could trouble the tranquility of your Soul. You acquaint me with some Apothegms, which are worth all those that are recorded to have been spoken by illustrious personages, and although I do remember that you call them, The Essays of your Youth, yet they may be read with singular delight, since we take pleasure to hear the Adventures of Beggers and Thieves, and Shepherds. It is most true, said Francion, and I assure you, that although there are some who affirm there are things in that Book which are not worthy to be recorded, [Page 11]yet, before they judge of them, it is requisit that the Readers should throughly understand them; I know as well as they what ought to be inserted, and what to be omitted, but I was pleased to write of some things that concerned my self, which being true, do need no other Ornaments, than their own livelinesse. For all that I will not debase my self, and I will not be ashamed to say, that I know not if those Writers (which at this day are so glorious, being so young as I was when I composed that Book of which I speak unto you, being (as I have said) but of eighteen years of age) would have given such demonstrations of their understanding. I will not travel farr for any Example, I should be glad if these makers of Romances by the dozen, and those who expresly do compose Letters to have them printed, could perform any thing better, in so short a time, and with such little Study as I did take in that Book. I composed in one day no lesse than two and thirty pages for the Presse, and it was moreover with a Spirit incessantly perplexed with other thoughts, and I could not intirely addict my self unto it. Sometimes I was heavy, and half asleep, and knew no other motion, but that only of my right hand; so that if I did write at that time any thing which was good, it was only by Fortune. Moreover, it was a pain unto me to take the pains to read over my own Writings, and to correct them; for by what Incouragement should I persist on this Sloth of Study? I should gain no glory at all if I had made a good Book, and should I have received it, it was too vain by farr to have charmed me: It is easie therefore to collect by this neglect, (which according to the sincerity of my Conscience I do acknowledge) that those works (in which I have exercised all the faculties of my Spirit) will be of another price; but it is not certain that I can so intirely addict my self to any particulars, for I do much hate those unprofitable observations to which our Writers do devote themselves. It was never my Intention to follow them, and being, as I am, altogether of another temper, I ought not to be put in the same rank with them, unlesse they will give me a quality which I am not in a capacity to receive. They incessantly trouble their Imaginations, to furnish them with some new subjects to content the desire they have to write, which goeth before the consideration of their ability, and I write not, but only to put into order those Conceptions which a long time I have entertained. If any one shall think that in this manner I do defie them, I will not take the pains to remove that opinion from him; for I am confident, that in making profession religiously to observe the rules of a Gentleman, or Nobility, I may challenge my adversaries, if I please my self, as well to the combat of the Pen, as of the Sword. I shall not testify a greater vanity in one than in the other, in promising my self the Victory. Neverthelesse I will not vex my self at so poor a thing, and having alwayes made a greater account of actions than of words, I had rather exercise my self in Virtue, than in Eloquence; and those shall deceive themselves, who observing that which above I have mentioned, shall conclude me to be arrogant: They will object unto me, that to praise my own Works, is to follow the Custom of the Mountebanks at New-bridge, who extoll their Balsoms, and of the Comedians, who in their papers which they stick up in every Corner of the street, doe give their Plays the titles of admirable, and incomparable; But it is to be considered, that if any one deserveth to be blamed for that, they are those only who having endeavoured to perswade us that they have made a good Book, would perswade us withall, that their persons are indued with excellent qualities; not weighing with themselves, that even loose and lewd Men do sometimes accomplish a good Piece. Let the World then take notice, that I take things at another turn of the Scale than these Men do, and being attended with more Innocence than Vanity, I cannot but with some reluctation affirm, That if I confesse I write well, it is because I find it to be so poor a perfection, that it is no great glory to become Master of it, if I find not my self [Page 12]withall to be Master of other perfections with it. What is it for a Man to boast that he hath overcome, and surmounted all Misfortunes, and that he knoweth how to govern Nations, but only to demonstrate that he is the Master of an insolent Spirit? If there are any who will not be contented with this reason, and will take distast at what I have said, I do let him alone to believe what he pleaseth, and that my Book being petulant all over, all may be taken for railery which I have spoken. That which maketh most for me, and which clearly sheweth, that I do not mind the reputation of a great Writer, is, That having not put my Name unto my Book, the glory which I do give my self can convey unto me no profit at all. I am a meer stranger to this Impertinence, against which an Antient Writer hath so much cryed out, who having made a Book, upbraiding the vanity of those, who by their Writings would purchase renown unto themselves, did not forbear from naming himself the Author of it. I have not been so vain as to commit the like fault, after I have so much misprized that glory. I am not ignorant of the subtilty of Phydias, who being forbidden to write his Name at the foot of the Statue of Minerva which he had made, did draw his own Pourtraict in a little corner of the Buckler of the said Goddesse, that there it might be alwayes seen, but if I should find room to set forth my self in some part of my Book, wher it might be discovered who I am, I do believe that I should not do it; At the least, I am most confident that I should never suffer to have my name printed in the Frontispiece, or first Leaf of the Book, much lesse to have it pasted on the Walls of the City: for it is not my humor to take pride, that on every Sunday my Name should afflict the Doors of the Churches, and the Pillars in the corners of the Streets; Nor should I glory to have it seen amongst the Titles of the Comedians, or to see it on the Walls, keeping Company with those who professe they cure the Pox, and broken Bellies. I doubt not but many, seeing my resolution to conceal my self, will have as great a resolution themselves to enquire after me, and will importunately desire the Booksellers to acquaint them who I am; I will therefore send them back with that brisk answer of the Lacedemonian, who being demanded by a Friend whom he did meet with, what he carried under his Cloak, replyed to him, The question which you propound unto me, is in vain; for, if I had a Desire that you should know what it is, I would not cover it. With the same mony I must pay those, who have too much Curiosity concerning this Book, and I am content that they should take it to be as some Infant [...]ound in the Streets, who hath either made up himself, or who hath no Father that can be found to take care for him. Do the Readers believe that I am obliged to acquaint them with my Name, when I can never learn their Names, and when an infinite number of Men, who are never to be of my Acquaintance, shall read it in my Book? If there be any to whom I shall be obliged to discover my Name, it shall be to my intimate Friends, who will take my pains in good part; when those who do not know it, will, peradventure blame me, finding that I did addict my self to such petulant and idle Subjects, when I had so many serious Thoughts to deliver.
As Francion was speaking this, Raymond was very attentive to him, and said unto him, I must confesse that you have the most noble, and the most generous apprehensions in the world. I should be never a weary to listen to you. You exquisitely do expresse your self on a variety of Subjects, which do all deserve to be recorded; and it seems to me, that the Readers of your books should be glad to find there the like advertisements which you now declare. You do too much oblige me (said Francion) but I dare assure you, That it is most necessary oftentimes to make an Advertisement, or a Preface to the Reader; for many particulars are there oftentimes contained, which conduce unto the advancement of our Understanding; neverthelesse most men are so carelesse, that they seldom, or never, read the Preface, not knowing, That oftentimes [Page 13]there is more there than in all the rest of the Book, and the Author there makes manifest with what spirit he is endued. One day I demanded of a Gentleman of that humour, wherefore he did not read the Prefaces. He made answer, because he believed they were all of one making, and having read one of them in his life, he conceived it was enough; he conjectured also that the Contents and the Title resembled one another. But let not those do so, who shall have my Books within their hands, if they will oblige me to have any esteem of them. Let them be carefull to read all my Prefaces; for I am most elabourate in them, and insert not any thing which is not usefull. I will be none of those Readers (said Raymond) that shall fail in that particular; But tell me, I pray you, what is the Book which you composed last? It is a pleasant History (said Francion) It is already made, and yet not one word written of it; It is a sharp and a pointed Satyre on the minds and manners of some men, of whom I assume the liberty to speak most freely; and because the stile is not ordinary, and I cannot give such a Title to the Book as is able to expresse what it doth contain, I will call it The Book without a Title. That shall be the Title of the Book, and if that shall not be the Title of it, howsoever it will agree well enough with such a fantastical piece. The Subject on which I will expresse my self, shall be to decipher the life and the vices of many persons of quality, who p [...]etend to be grave and serious, and have nothing but Hypocrisie in their hearts. And as the Book doth bear a Title, and yet is without a Title, so I h [...]ve thought upon another thing which is very agreeable to it, It is, to insert an Epistle Dedicatory, which shall be no Epistle Dedicatory, or at least to dedicate it, without having of it dedicated at all. This is my Invention, you shall find these words printed in the beginning of the second leaf, in great Letters TO THE GRANDIES, as if it were the addresse of a Dedicatory, and under it shall follow this Epistle.
It is not to dedicate this Book to you that I make this Epistle; but it is, that you may understand that I do not dedicate it unto you. You will, peradventure, object, It is no such great Present, and but a Packet only of idle and foolish actions, which I have as idly observed, and collected, but you will say, Why do you not give unto us an account of virtuous Deeds? Why shall I not have the liberty to speak of those things which great men dare do? I have too free a Spirit to conceal the Truth, and if I had the leisure, I had inlarged this Volume with the lives of infinite persons, who do seem to challenge place in my History, by their continual enormities. But if those, of whom in my Satyrical entertainments I have already made mention, doe not consider that I appear first of all in the rank, and are not contented to speak unto me, because I have spoke of them, Do you know what they will gain to find themselves offended? Tis this, They will discover to all the world, that it is of them whom I do speak, which was not known before; and moreover, they will procure, that for the time to come [...] shall not feign to name them, because they have begun to do it themselves. Do you conceive that a man of such a temper doth perplex himself about the Dedication of Books? and that I who can adore no perfections but what are divine, ought to humble my self before multitudes who are obliged to give thanks to Fortune, that she hath granted them riches to cover their defects? You are to understand, that I look not on the world but as a Comedy, and esteem of men no more, but only as they do act well the part which is given to them. He who is a Peasant, and liveth according to the Rules of honesty in that condition, doth seem to me more commendable, than he who is born a Gentleman, and performeth not the actions of a Gentleman. So that prizing every one according as he is, and not according to that which he hath, I do equally esteem those who have the charge of the greatest affairs, with those who have only but a charge of raggs upon their baggs, if Virtue doth not make the difference. Neverthelesse, I have not so little a consideration to the [Page 14]truth, but that I do believe there may be found a Generation as illustrious for their Merit, as their Birth and Fortunes, and that this age is not so barbarous, but that there are some of you who love honourable actions, let but those who are of the number cause themselves to be known better than heretofore, and I promise them that then I will not only dedicate Books unto them, but shall be ready to live and dye in their service.
This is the Epistle which I have addressed to the Grandies, which is for all that not an Epistle, or at least is not dedicative, but it is rather a negative Epistle. Raymond replyed, It is bold, and gallant, and no man can be offended at it, for it is not to men of Virtue to whom you speak, they are exempted, but when will it be that in earnest you will set your self in work about it? I hope (said Francion) that within a few days I shall put Pen to Paper, to write my last work, but I will not publish it no more than I will the entire History in which I will labour when I shall attain unto the Haven whereof I do desire to arrive. For my self, I do not affect to torment my sp [...]rits, I doe not write but only to divert my self, and before I do take my Pen into my hand, I do take my Lute from the Case, and after I have wrote a leaf, I do walk, and play, which is to me as the respite of Musick betwixt the acts of a Comedy. Observe what are the pains which I take, I bite not my Nails in meditation of what I am to write; Would it be fit, do you think, to make posterity partake in things no better studied? I should have repented to have been elaborate, for I desire that none but my familiar Friends may peruse those works which I shall compose. It will be some comfort to me (said Raymond) that I am one of that number, and also I do perswade my self that, your History being finished, you will not forget me. My brave friend (said Francion) upon my faith you speak too seriously concerning that which is nothing worth; I will not leave you in this error; you must understand I am no such great Scholar, as, since our first acquaintance in France, I have made you, for pleasure to believe. There is more of me in apparence than in effect; I have by heart some pieces of my friends, of which I debate oftentimes with my self, and when I have presented any thing to personages of Honour, I in the like manner do assist my self with the labours of other men, or do add something to it of my self which is of no value. How can it be, that so poor a Cavallier as my self should have learned so much? It is for those to be learned who are Gentlemen of that profession, and have slept upon Parnassus Hill. See here a pleasing Dissimulation, Do you think (said Raymond) to excuse your self from shewing me your works? Because you will have it so (replyed Francion) I will shew unto you all that which I have composed, although it be not worthy of your eye. It was well known that Francion had not so narrow a capacity; In a short time he was able to accomplish whatsoever he undertook, but it was true, that this was the season, in which he had rather give a Subiect to others to write upon, than to write himself. He was now busie on other thoughts, and seeing that Hortensius, who was always the same man, was indued with an incomparable presumption, he determined to put some pleasant design in practice to make himself merry with him. He communicated this design to Raymond, Du Buisson, and Audebert, without whom he could do nothing at all, and the more to advance the plot, he made partakers of it four Alman Gentlemen, with whom he was acquainted, Men of a gallant Conversation, and whom Hortensius as yet had never seen. One day as he was with him, Audebert entred into the Chamber, and said? There are lately some Polonians come to Rome, Know you not what businesse they have to do? It is said that their King is dead, but I have not yet heard who is he whom they have chosen to succeed him, It must be some Prince of Italy who is now in this City.
All who were present said, it was the first news they had heard of it, and discoursing with themselves who should be King of Polonia, One named one [Page 15]Prince, and another another. This passed in this manner, and Du Buisson departed from them on purpose to walk up and down the City; and returning afterwards to Raymond, as Francion, Dorini, and Hortensius, whom he had left with them, were sitting down to Supper, he did speak with a serious Countenance, Hardly, on my faith, will you believe that which I have learned abroad; it is true, there are Polonians in this City, who are come to find out him whom they have chosen for their King. I have enquired who it is; It was represented to me that they have elected a French Gentleman, who, being indued with singular Learning, will establish Justice amongst them in her primitive splendor, and by his good Counsell will make them successefull in their Warrs. I did speak to one Man, who told me, that he who is to be their King, is called Hortensius, and that the Polonians did much rejoyce to have a King, who in a direct line proceeded from an antient Consul of Rome, and turning to Hortensius, he proceeded, Sir, It must needs be you. But is that true which you speak said Hortensius? Buisson replyed, Let me not live if it be not so; You speedily will find sufficient assurances of it. Thereupon every one did begin to speak seriously of it, rejoycing at so good a Fortune, insomuch that Hortensius was quite besides himself.
They had not half supped, but a Caroach and some Horses were heard to arrive at the Gate of the House, and there was one who twice or thrice knocked at the Door; Petronius, a Gentleman who belonged to Francion, was sent down to understand who it was. He brought word they were Polonians, who said they would speak with a Signior named Hortensius. It is you (said Francion) they would speak with; there is no doubt to be made of it. Good God! Why did we Sup so late? How rudely doth this Chamber show? They will find all things out of order. Hortensius had then a glasse of Wine in his hand, which he was conveying to his mouth; but as the Proverb doth affirm, That many things do happen betwixt the cup and the mouth, this News did so ravish him with an exilience of joy, that his hand failed, and both glasse and Wine did fall down together; It is spilt and broken, but it is no great matter, said transported Hortensius; But what a Fool was I to put on such disgracefull Cloaths, this day? What will the Ambassadors say, to see me so ill appointed? I would that I had been advertised of their comming but a little sooner, I would have taken care to have accommodated my self better, and Raymond would have lent me his richest Cloak. You must be something (said Raymond) in the fashion of their Country, I will tell you what you shall do; whereupon they all rising from the Table, the Groom did take away, and put all things in Raymonds Chamber in as good order as possibly he could. Raymond sent into his Wardrobe for a short Coat lined with Furr, the out-side being of Rose-colour Sattin, which he was accustomed to wear when he was not well. He said unto Hortensius, Throw that upon your shoulders. The Polonians will give you the more respect, seeing that you are already habited according to the fashion of their Country; for there they make use of Furrs altogether, because it is more cold in their Country than in this. Hortensius was possessed with so extreme a Joy, that he believed all manner of Counsels. He put on the Coat very readily, and being set in a high Chair, according to the advice of Francion, they did all stand bare-headed on both sides of him, to give an opinion to the Polonians that he was some grand Signior. Raymond whispered him in the ear, Be sure you have your Latin Tongue in a readinesse, for, no doubt, their Oration will be in that Language, it is as familiar with them as their Mother Tongue; and I assure my self, that one of the reasons for which they elected you to be their King, is, because they are advertized you are an extraordinary Latin Scholar.
As he spake those words, the four Almans, who were apparelled according [Page 16]to the Polonian fashion, did enter into the Chamber with six Torches burning before them. The most apparent of the Troup, who represented the Ambassador, did make a profound reverence to Hortensius, and those who attended on him, afterwards he made this Speech, having first methodically coughed, and stroaked and wiped both his Mustachioes one after the other.
Mortuo Ladislao R [...]ge nostro, Princeps invictissme, (he did pronounce those words in a loud and most gracefull accent,) Poloni divino numine afflati te Regem suffragiis suis elegerunt, cum te Justitiâ & Prudentiâ adeo similem Defuncto credant, ut ex cineribus illius quasi Phoenix alter videaris surrexisse. Nunc ergo nos tibi submittimus, ut habenas Regni nostri suscipere digneris. In pursuance of this, the Ambassador made a long Panegyrick to Hortensius, in which, to speak the truth, he had many elegant expressions; for he was a very learned man. Amongst other things, he declared, That the Reason which most particularly moved the Polonians to elect Hortensius for their King, (besides the renown which he had gained by his Writings▪ which were spred through all Countries) was, That he was the Man of whom the ancient Sages of that Country were believed to speak in their Prophecies of a learned King which should make Polonia the happiest Country on the Earth. When the Orator had ended, Hortensius [...]lucing him with a nod of his head, which shewed his gravity, did make answer in these few words, Per me re [...]ibit aurea aetas, Sit n i [...] populus b [...]nus, bonus ro Rex. He would speak no more at that present, believing, that Princes ought not to be too prodigal of their words, seeing that one accent of theirs is worth five hundred of their Subjects. The Polonians made unto him many humble Reverences, and taking their leaves of him, did use such strange gestures, as if they had been ravished with admiration. One of them could not forbear from saying, O miraculum Mundi! O Rex Chrystome, qualis Pactolus ex ore tuo emanet? Another cried out, O alter Amphion! quot urbes sonus tuae vocis aedificaturus est? And so they departed, accumulating him with all praises, and Presages, as the future glory of Polonia, and Francion did conduct them down with an extreme joy, to see them act their parts unto the life.
Upon his return, Buisson being newly come out of his extasie, in which he feigned himself to be, did cast himself down before the knees of Hortensius, and said unto him with a voice weak and faint, Great Prince, Have a care of your faithfull Servant, now your Virtues have added one spoke more to the wheel of your Fortune; Make me your Creature, and give me some place in which I may live with Honour. Francion plucking him from him, reproved him for his impudence, so suddenly to importune the King, and said unto him, Cannot you have the patience to attend until he be arrived to his Dominions? If Du Buisson do not deport himself more wisely (said Hortensius) I shall tell him, That he deserveth to be rejected when he demandeth any thing; and that Francion deserveth to have any thing granted to him when he demandeth it not.
As this passed, there did arise a question, whether Hortensius should stay where he was, or return to his ordinary Lodging? Raymond was of opinion that he should not go, because the place was too little, and that it were expedient be should stay there, where he should be as Master of them all; and because that all the French Nation would think themselves honoured by the Kingdom of Polonia, who had made choice of him, there was scarce a French man in Rome, he said, but would come to attend upon his person, as if they were his followers, and do him honour before the Polonians. Raymond having spoken these words, did resign the possession of his Chamber to him, and leaving him a Groom to help him off with his cloaths, he retired into another room with the rest of the Company.
They were no sooner departed, but Hortensius called for Audebert, being already [Page 17]ready desirous to use the authority of a King: when he was come, he told him that he must sit up the greatest part of that night by his Bedside, because the cares which did possesse him did hinder him from sleeping. Audebert was very glad of it, for being of a pregnant understanding, he hoped, by his long waking, and extravagant discourses, Hortensius would become a Fool, and that so they should receive the more pleasure from him. Audebert my friend (said Hortensius) Didst not thou remember that the Polonians said, rhat they had Prophecies concerning me, they are not deceived in it; If we shall but consult with the Ephemerides, we shall discover very rare consequences; Didst not thou read when we were at Paris the Almanack of Iohn Petit of Paris, and that of Larivay the young Troyen, I am perswaded that they did prognosticate of my adventures. One of them saith, that on this time there shall be a change of the affairs towards the North, and that the humble shall be exalted. Is it not a great change, when they come so far to look for a King? and have I not always walked humbly before God? It is to be imagined that you have (said Audebert) I would that we had the Oracles of the Sibylls, the Book of Abbot Ioachim, the Revelation of Saint Bridget, the Prophecies of Merlin, or the Centuries of Nostradamus, we should there, no doubt, find something which hath been spoken of you, and to tell you the truth, all those books are very gentile, and very usefull; Things are not to be marked there, but when they are come to passe; But whether they have made mention or not of your Royalty, what need you to care, since it is arrived to you? O (replyed Hortensius) It would be of great use unto me, for I may possibly find that also which may befall me all the remainder of my life, and by that means I may withdraw my self from the dangers which do threaten me. Wherefore, if you will gain my favour, make it now appear unto me by your expedition, and seek out for me the Revelations of Saint Bridget, our Host hath some part of them. Audebert, who to please himself did indeavour to please him, did inquire for the Book, and at last obtained it, Hortensius caused him to read the Prophecies, to which he listned with great attention, and when he heard any thing which seemed to square with his own adventures, he did read it himself nine or ten times over, and did m [...]k the Page with his Nail, and having made extravagant explications thereon, he did dictate them to Audebert, who did wrire them down for him. In this manner they passed away the greatest part of that night, and at the last their heads nodding to one another, as if they would both fall from their shoulders on the Book, they resolved to give some hours of Indulgence to sleep and rest. Hortensius being in bed, did speak to Audebert to come to Bed to him, but he was very ceremonious, and alleged that it was too much honour for him to lie with a Prince, and therefore he would not commit so great an oversight, but Hortensius assured him that he should lie with him for once, and that he would not permit him to refuse that happinesse, so long as the Scepter was not yet in his hand. Audebert in obedience to his command, coming into the Bed to him, they both of them immediately did fall asleep, and so soundly, as if they had laid a wager which of them should have their senses most beclowded. As for the Groom of the Chamber, he did go to bed long before, being weary of waiting on such a Master.
The next morning Audebert awaked very early, and having put on his cloaths, he called to the Groom of the Chamber, to come and assist Hortensius to make himself ready (for he would have him to be observed with all respect) and he had the honour himself to bring him a clean shirt: In taking of the foul one, so rank a smell did surprize his Nostril, that he could not forhear from speaking to him; Wo is me how strongly do you smell? And how do I smell? replyed Hontensius, Do not you consider that I begin to appear to be a King in all things? Do you not perceive how much already I savour of Alexander? [Page 18]If your Armpits, said Audebert, do savour of Alexander, I am afraid your feet have the favour of Darius, who before he was a King, was sometimes a Messenger. What! Are you become a Mocker (replyed Hortensius?) But it is no matter, I take all in good part, I know that Kings have those always near unto them who assume the liberty to speak freely unto them, to solace and divert their spirits, otherwise they should enjoy no pleasure in this world. Iust as he spake this, Behold where Raymond, Francion, Du Buisson, and Dorini did come altogether to salute him, and demanded of him how he slept that night. He made answer, that he passed away the best part of it, in reading the book of St. Bridget, and shewed them the Prophecies which he had expounded to his advantage, by which they perceived that the greatest part of this new King was Fool, and that their Plato was crowned with extraordinary successe. He who had wrote so many Romances found it not strange at all, that from a poor Writer, he was become a King, seeing that he had often wrote of the like adventures, in which he could find nothing so truly resembling the condition of a King, as he perceived in his own, and he was so accustomed to these things, that he found nothing extraordinary.
As Francion, Raymond, and Hortensius, did seriously entertain themselves on these Prophecies, Du Buisson did interrupt them, and said to Hortensius, Be pleased to inform my Ignorance, I know not yet by what Title to call you, whether by the Title of Monsieur, or Monsigneur, or of Sire. Hortensius made answer, When I have the Crown upon my head, it will be good to call me Sire. For the present, I will content my self with the Title of Monse [...]gneur. Pardon us (said Raymond) if when you shall be pleased to command us, we in this shall disobey you. There is no question of it to be made, but you at this present are to bs entituled Sire; for you a long time have been King by merit, although not by condition. Do as you please then (replyed Hortensius,) But you Du Buisson, what is it that you would say unto me? Sir, I demand of you (said Du Buisson) If being in Polonia you would not equally distribute Justice? And, as you recompence Vertue, whether you would not also punish Vice? And remembring those who have heretofore offended you, whether you would not by some fair pretences draw them to your Court, to put them there to death? I have heard mention made of Escluses, of Salust, the Toothdrawer, and some Serjeants, who have not intreated you as they ought, Will you not call them to an account for it? Hortensius having a little meditated with himself, did make answer, Understand me, It is not requisite that the King of Polonia should take care to revenge himself of the Injuries which were done to the Poet Hortensius. I compose this Apothegm, having that of a King of of France for my Example, who after he was King, would not revenge himself of the Injuries done unto him when he was but Duke of Orleance. My readings in this Nature shall profit me much for the time to come, and I will write unto my Hostesse of Paris to send me my Books of Commonplaces, which I have left in pawn with her for five and thirty Sous which I do owe her; When I have those Books, no Subject shall be propounded to me, but I will have an answer ready, from those of the antient Monarchs whose lives I have solded down. But until those Books come, I will make use of Plutarch, and the Collections of Erasmus; And you, my dear Friends, who do now assist me, I will teach you, and I will give you all that I have, in the Imitation of Alexander, and reserve to my self only the Hope. Do you see what an application) make of things, and I will so continue them, that the Book which hereafter shall be made of my History, shall be the most excellent one in the world. You Audebert, it seems to me that your Humor is apprehensive, and curious enough, it shall be your imployment to collect all my Apothegms. In the morning you shall come unto me, and it shall be late at night before you depart from me, and sometimes you shall lie all night in my [Page 19]Chamber; for in the Night-time, if I awake, and speak any thing at all, it will be sure to be an Apothegm. Buisson interrupted him, and said, What? If you ask for the Chamber-pot to make water, or what if you are married, will you entertain Madam the Queen with Apothegms only? Hold your peace (said Hortensius) it is not to you I speak, it is to you my Audebert, who shall keep a Register of that which every day I shall speak of. It is an excellent invention, and which will cost nothing. They keep a Register of expences in every house, be it never so little; The Receivers and Treasurers of Princes are imployed all the year in keeping of Accounts; And shall there not be a Man appointed punctually to set down whatsoever word the King doth speak? I will not fall into that fault, and you shall be my Historiographer. What pension will you allow me (Sir) said Audebert? The King of Polonia made answer, You do precipitate too much to demand that question. Be patient till I can see what acres I can spare, I cannot dispose of places of Preferment to you, according to your expectation, until I am first acquainted with the Course of my Affairs.
As he spake that, Raymond told him, That he should suddenly have the opportunity to inform himself of the Estate in which his Kingdom was, and that the Polonians were invited to come to dinner to him. This news was very wellcom to him, being desirous to know their humour. He was apparalleld as on the day before, in a Suit of Spanish cloath, of colour de Roy. They caused him to throw over his shoulder his little furred Coat, and they made fast a great Brooch to his Hat, that he might the better appear in the Polonian garb.
After that he came down into the Hall, where not long afterwards the Germans came disguised in Polonian habits; They did salute him with infinite respects, and made a great difficulty to be so bold as to dine with their Master at his own Table. To reconcile all, Hortensius sate at the upper end, leaving three or four places empty, and the company observing that distance, did sit down on either side of the Table, which was a very long one. During the time of Dinner, all the discourse was to his praise; Every action was admired, and he spake not a word, but it was cryed up for an Oracle, so that his presumption did blind him more and more, and made him believe that all which he heard was true. When the cloath was taken away, there arrived many French Gentlemen, to whom Raymond had imparted the drollery, who came to establish a Court for Hortensius, as if he had been a Prince of their own Nation; In the mean time Dorini addressed himself to Nays, to acquaint her with this Comedy, and to know if she pleased to entertain this delightfull Company. He no sooner understood that she would be most glad to see this new King, but immediatly he returned to acquaint Francion with it, who demanded of Hortensius if he would passe away that Afternoon with the most beautifull Lady in Italy; He made answer, he should be glad to solace himself with that divertisement, and immediatly three Caroaches were prepared for all the Company. He refused to goe abroad with his Coat lined with Furr, because the Polonians had no such attire themselves, but it was represented to him, that they did not accustom themselves to wear Furrs in that Country, because it was a warm Climat, and although it was not unfashionable to have a Cloak unlined as was theirs, yet it would not become him to shew himself so moveable or uncertain, as to leave off that fashion and habiliment which he had taken. In this manner they contented him, and he took his Caroach, the Polonians being with him in it, and Audebert, who was always to be with him, to write down whatsoever he said. The other two Caroaches were filled with French Gentlemen, and they followed the former which was much looked upon by all the People. Some believed they were Maskers, & that they were to dance some Mask, but they were [Page 20]much amazed to see Mummeries at that season of the year, which w [...]s off from Shrovetide, Nays entertained them honourably, and at that time many invited Ladies did arrive to see the new King of Polonia. He shewed himself so courteous, that he would not sit down unlesse that they were seated also. For the Gentlemen to testifie their respect unto the Prince, were contented to be bareheaded, and to lean some against one place, and some against another. The first Complement which Nays spake, was, that she was excessively glad of the happinesse which was arrived to the most excellent personage in the world, and she had now a reason to believe that God would destroy Mankind no more, because he was pleased that the Scepter should be given to such a one, who would restore the Universe to its Primitive Beauty. That which (Madam) you ought more to admire (said Buisson) is, that of a small thing he hath vouchsafed to make a great one, as if a Pyramid should stand on its own spire; and so indeed all things do increase, the smallest Rivers do swell into a Sea, an Acorn grows into an Oak, and our King who was almost nothing, is now advanced into a Potentate. His life is governed by a Destiny, contrary to that of Dionysius the Tyrant, who from a King descended into a Pedant, but he from a Pedant is promoted to a King. Learn to speak more modestly (said Hortensius) How foolish and inconsiderate is your youth! I deny not (said Hortensius) that I arise but from small beginnings, but what need this be spoken? We ought to forget all which is passed, as if it had never been, and we ought to believe that Fortune is drunk, and doth not know what she hath done her self, when she sendeth calamities unto Kings. How many Kings have been known to come from a sordid pedigree, that have not been esteemed the lesse for that? Tamberlan was a Swineherd, Agathocles was the Son of a Potter, and to put him in remembrance of his Parentage, he commanded that they should mingle Vessels of Earth with those of Gold and Silver. It is well known that Ausonius who was a good Author Composed this Verse. Fama est Fictilibus coenasse Agathoclea regem, &c. But without going so far, One of the Kings, even of our Polonia, was a Labourer, and yet in memory of him, they laid up his Sandals in the Treasury. It is an observation of no use, Besides it is well known, I am not of so base a Pedigree, and if peradventure I were▪ I ought not to be esteemed the less. Look in the Romances all over, and you shall find what a cognizance there is. Chariclea was believed to be the Daughter of a Priest, but she was proved afterwards to be the Daughter of a King. Daphnis and Chloe were conceived to be the Children of a poor Shepherd, and it was afterwards discovered that great Signiors were their Fathers; and I believe that the passages of my life being interwoven with so many wonders, I shall be acknowledged at last to be the Son of some great Prince. They will bring me my Cradle, my Muckinder, and my Hobbyhorse garnished with pretious stones, which will add faith to the Nobility of my Race. My Heart tells me so, and I am confident it is not in vain that I make this presage, for the celestial inspirations are never found to be Lyars. It is easie to be seen that I am of the Royal Progeny, for never any Man had so great a desire to be King, as I have.
All this which you represent unto us is true (said Francion) and moreover take notice that the year of Jubilee approacheth, and we ought not to doubt but that many Princes who have made clandestine marriages will then discover them to receive absolution for their offences. I have heard it reported, that on the last Jubilee there were some Potentates who acknowledged in this manner their own Children. Hortensius did still hold some discourse in consideration of this Subject, & observing that Audebert did for bear to be attentive to him, being busie in communication with Du Buisson, insomuch, that although he had taken his Table Book, to write down all that which the King should say, yet he had not of late written any thing at all, he made a sign to him with his [Page 21]eyes, and then said unto him, Audebert, write down all, Do you not observe that this is remarkable? I have put down all already, saving the Latin only (said Audebert) Whereupon Hortensius all along did dictate to him the Epigrame of Ausonius, believing it was something of great consequence to his life, which convayed an incredible pleasure to the standers by; But Du Buisson who could not hold his peace, did say unto him, Sir, I know but one word of Latin, and it is, Simia semper Simia. Heretofore you have spoken it your self, and now you prove it. Observe but this Wagg (said Hortensius) yesterday when the Gentlemen of Polonia had told me that their Compatriots had given unto me the Scepter of that Nation, I believed that I should want nothing but Jeasters about me to be a King, but now I see I shall not fail of them. All these Answers of Hortensius seemed admirable to the standers by, and at every word the Ambassadours would lift up their hands to Heaven, speaking with admiration in the Latin Tongue. O how great is this his wisdom! He is as full of sweetnesse as of clemency! how contented shall our Polonia be to have him! Plato saith, That to make Commonwealths flourish, Philosophers must reign, or that Kings must be Philosophers. Behold here one of those Kings which he desireth; Since we are informed that he hath been a Regent Master in the Universities, he must of necessity teach Logick, which is the first part of Philosophy, and he must have it also at his singers ends. Because that Nays did not understand the Latin Tongue, Francion stood near unto her, and expounded every word what they said. For the French Tongue she did speak it perfectly her self.
At the last, to put Hortensius upon some agreeable discourse, she of her own accord did say unto him, that she had heard he had a desire to compose five or six excellent Romances, some part whereof he had begun, she demanded of him if he would now take the pains to continue them. He made answer, that he now had other things to doe, and that he might have Scholars enough to accomplish them for him. As for himself, he was so resolved, that words should give place to actions, for he had an extreme desire utterly to extirpate the race of the Ottomans, and advance his own person to conquer the Idumaen palmes, so that he was determined to put all into Armes, as soon as he should come into Polonia. Remember me then I beseech you (said Du Buisson) and give me a company of Carabins upon the Sea. Go too then (said Hortensius) you shall have a Company, but I believe that you merit rather the place of the Kings Fool, than any other.
Francion fearing that the King of Polonia would grow into a choler, and that Du Buisson would not be able to contain himself, did alter the scene of the discourse, and said unto Hortensius, But what are the Laws and Ordinances which you will establish to make your people happy? I would willingly speak of this, replyed Hortensius, that the Polonish Gentlemen who are here present may understand me, I will therefore that my Estate be made famous, as much for Letters as for Arms, and the rather, to soften the stubborn humour of the Cosacks, who are a Martial people, I will cause a whole dozen of Poets to come from Paris, who shall establish an Academy, and give Laws for Poesie and Romances. My desire is, that all the world shall make Books in my Kingdom, and on all Subjects. The Romances shall be no more of Love and War only, but they shall contain as well subjects of Law, of Merchandise, and of Receipts of the Exchequer, In this course of Affairs there shall be dayly brave and new adventures. No man before me had ever the least imagination of this; I am the Master of the Invention. In this manner the Draper shall make Romances on his traffick, and the Advocate on his practice. All the world shall be good Company, and Men shall speak nothing but Romances, and Verses shall be in such reputation, that a certain price shall be set upon them. [Page 22]He who hath no Money, and presenteth a Stanza to a Taverner, shall receive for his pains a quarter of a pint, half a pint for a Sonnet, a pint for an Ode, and a quart of Wine for a Poem, and so higher for other pieces. This will provide well for the necessities of the people; For Bread, Meat, Wood, Candie, Cloath and Silks, shall be bought according to the price which shall be set upon Verse, whose subject shall be the praise of Merchants, and their Merchandizes. This Comfort shall poor Poets have, when they have no money. This will I establish for Commerce. For that which belongs to Iustice, it shall be upright as brief. If the cause be full of perplexity, it shall be unraveli'd and expounded at the charge of him who shall gain it, or he shall have the Law to passe on his side who shall be the most learned Man. As for the Laws of War, No man shall be entertained into the place of a Captain, who hath not by heart Amadis de Gaul, and the Knight of the Sunne; for without those Books a Man cannot be couragious. For other things, I have many Stratagems to rout the Turks, I will cause Men to be mounted on Chariots which shall appear all in Fire, there shall be javelins and Lances of Fire, Granadoes and Petarbs, and many Blazing Starres, and Dragons flaming in the air, that the Barbarians beholding how I imitate the Thunderer, the Comets and the Starrs, shall believe that I am something greater than Mahomet himself. I will have great Circles of Christal, on the back whereof I will cause certain lights to be placed, which shall make them shine as the Bow in Heaven; so will I counterfeit the party-coloured I [...]is, that brave nothing which is all things, that divine Arbalest, that rich Arch, which is not to be seen at the Bridge of the Exchange at Paris, but at the Bridge of the Angels in Paradise, glittering all over with celestial Goldsmiths shops. How will these Visions trouble my Enemies? How shall they be possessed with the affrighting noise which my people shall make, who overcome, and they themselves who shall be overcome?
These Inventions of Hortensius were found to be excellent, but Audebert did not forbear to acquaint him, that he was amazed to see him resolved on so many and so great Combats; for sometimes he had heard him say, that he would never go to War, but when the Muskets should be charged with Cyprian powder, and laden with pellets of Sugar, and the powder in the pan should be the powder of Orras. He made answer, That he feared not the Alarms of war, because he had the Right on his side, and that neither force or Stratagem should be ever seen to be wanting in him.
Whiles he spake this, the Ambassadors consulted together, and Francion, who was their Interpreter, made known unto him, that they could not approve what their King said, for they were afraid, that the Grandies of their Country would not give way to have their antient Laws to be exchanged into new; but Hortensius said, That they should then see what would be done, when he should prove unto them that his Propositions were just.
One of the Ladies in the Company of Nays being very curious, desired to know if the King of Polonia had not a resolution to marry, and Francion propounded the question to him. He replyed, That he perceived well enough that there was some Italian Baggage who desired to be a Queen; but she was mistaken, for he would have none but either some Daughter of the Royal bloud of England, or of Denmark, who above all things, should bring her chastity for her Dowry. The Polonians acquainted Francion with what they conceived fit to be done; and he spake aloud unto the Company, That the Ambassadors were afraid their King would but deceive himself, if he thought ever to have a Wife who had yet the Rose of her Virginity, because it was the custom of their Country, to put their Queen, the first day of her Marriage, into a great chamber, where all the Grandies of the Realm did lie with her one after another.
[Page 23]This did put Hortensius into a great choler, who protested he would never endure that Villany, and that he had read the Chapter of Polonia all over in the Book of Estates and Empires, but it made not the least mention of so execrable a Custom. The Ambassadors maintained that it had alwayes been observed; and that to know if a Man hath a crooked nose, he must not look upon his Picture, but he must look upon himself, and if his Book were a lyar, or a flatterer, he must not give so much credit to it, as to any thing which properly did belong unto him, and that for their own parts they had no mind to abolish the good Custom of their Country, to lie with their Queen; for being the prime and first of the Estate, they were to tast first of all of the Wife of their King. The Ladies were all for them in that behalf; and although that Du Buisson affirmed, that he should take heed how he married in that year of disgrace, for, without all doubt, by the disordered and too hasty revolution of the Sphere, when his Wife should be in the sign of Gemini, he would be in that of Capricorn, yet they counselled him not to lead a single life, assuring him, that he should never be deceived in his Queen.
After there several Entertainments, all the Company, saving Francion, took their leave of Nays, and they brought back the King of Polonia to his Lodging: There was a great Presse of People to see him passe by. The report of his folly was spred over all Rome. Some laughed, and others were amazed at it. For himself, he believed that the Multitude was only to admire him, and being well satisfied in his own particular; he locked himself up in his Chamber as soon as possibly he could, with his Historiographer, to cause him to read over to him whatsoever he had writ of his Discourse at the House of Nays, to correct them in several places where they failed.
In the mean time Francion entertained his Mistresse with the pleasant extravagances of this new King; and, to make amends for the time in which they kept a serious Countenance before him, they now both of them laughed their fill. But because this was not that which did most nearly concern them, they soon did alter the subject of their discourse. Francion did acquaint her with the violence of his passion, and Nays was so touched with a transportation of Love, that she did take out of a little Box the Picture of Floriander, which she had yet reserved, and did give it to him to do what he would with it, representing to him, That she would not regard any thing whatsoever, that should make her think of any other but himself. He made some difficulty to take it, alleging, That he doubted not of her Fidelity, and that he was not of so outragious a temper, as to enter into a jealousie. Neverthelesse he did take it along with him, and on his return he did present it unto Baymond. Nays being a Widdow, although she was the Mistresse of her actions, yet she demanded the Counsel of her Kinred concerning her Marriage, who although they were not altogether satisfied that she should marry a stranger, yet they pretended to like well of it, because they did know her to be entire in her resolutions, and that she would not forsake them for any Remonstrances of theirs. Francion had already made a visit to some of them with Dorini, and shewed many excellent proofs of his abilities; but their Disposition was not so tractable, as to be taken with him the first or second time. Neverthelesse the affair did so far advance it self, that the Marriage was to be solemnized within six dayes. Our Lover thought the time long, and did languish during this delay, so that he had reason to seek some recreation to divert himself amongst the extravagances of Hortensius.
Being returned to him, he caused him to sup with him, in the same Ceremony as at Dinner, and Night being come, he did sleep in the same bed as he did the Night before. The Ambassadors demanded of him, when he would be pleased to depart, and take upon him the Government of Polonia, which longed for his presence? He made answer, It should be when they pleased; but [Page 24] Francion interposed, and told him, that suddenly he was to be married, and that he must do him the honour as to assist at his Marriage, which being celebrated, they would joyfully go all together, with all the French Gentlemen in Rome, and that other Nations would follow him also, of which he might compose an Army, which would make him formidable in all the places he should come. The Polonian Gentlemen did allege, that they had a Command to make no delay at all in their journey; but their Monark did swear unto them, That on this fair occasion which offered it self, he would stay, although he should lose all his Provinces and his Royalties to boot. At this the Ambassadors seemed to be discontented, and, in a garb which shewed themselves to be much unsatisfied, departed from him with very few Complements. He cause them to be called back, and did appease them, demanding of them, What was the reason they were not satisfied? They made answer, That their desire was, that they may be lodged in the same House with him; for it was the Custom of their Princes to allow Chambers in their Palaces to all those of their quality. Hortensius made answer, He would do that, and more also, and that he would come and take up his Lodgings with them; whereupon he did rise, and made himself ready to goe unto their House with them: and although themselves did not well like of it, yet they did conduct him thither, alleging they should receive a great Contentment by it, because for the time to come they should alwayes have their King with them, and observe his Disposition to be conformable unto theirs. They did prepare for him the best Bed they had, but on the next Morning, having very early put on their riding cloaths to travel to Naples, they dislodged without Trumpets, and paying their Host but half of the account that was due unto him, they did assure him, that their Companion, whom they had left behind them, would discharge the rest.
When he was thoroughly awake, the Host entred into his Chamber, and demanded of him, If he would have the expences of his Companions put in the same Bill of Affair with his own? He made answer, That he was not yet to depart his House; But the Host replyed, The rest are all gone. Hortensius demanded, If there was never a Polonian left in his House? To whom the Host replyed, There was never any Polonian lodged here, I only do desire to know, If you will be responsible for the four Almans which are gon, seeing they honoured you as their Master.
They were in this Discourse, when the first Host, in whose House Hortensius lodged, having heard at Raymonds Lodgings where to find him, did enter also into his Chamber, and making a great complaint against him, he demanded of him the Rent for his Chamber, and other moneys due for other expences, and called him Impostor, for going away without bidding him Adieu, because he had not an Intent to pay him. Audebert, who at Raymonds Lodgings had directed the Host where to find Hortensius, and suspected the quarrel that would be betwixt them, did follow him afarre off, and found Hortensius in a hot disputation with the two Italians. Hortensius seeing him, was surprized with joy, and cryed out, Ah Audebert! You are come in a good time, these two Brothers in Oppression and Deceit do tyrannize over me, without respect unto my quality. Declare unto them that I shall be a King, and shall have Means enough to discharge them. Audebert, having taken pleasure enough by their Contestation, did appease the two Hosts, promising them that Hortensius should pay them very honestly, and that he would passe his word for him, so that they returned him his cloaths again on which, they had laid their hands, and principally on the little Coat lined with Furr, having a resolution to have sold them all, and to pay themselves what he owed them; for they would not intreat him more respectfully, seeing he seemed to them to be but a very Fool.
[Page 25] Hortensius, having quickly put on his cloaths, did depart with Aud-bert, covering himself with an ordinary Cloak; for he would wear that which was lined with Furr no longer, because he had none of the Polonians to follow him. He repaired to Raymond and Franc [...]on, and all the way as he did go along be was in a great distemper; when he was come to them he made his complaints that the Polonians were gone without bidding him Farewell, which was the true sign of a great incivility in them, for which he could not conjecture any cause. You see (said Francion) that they are discontented at you. Yesterday you propounded new Laws, which, being King, you would observe in their Country, to the prejudice of their antient government, I do believe it did much displease them, and moreover you did not intreat them with that Honour and Courtesie which they expected; As soon as ever you had heard of their arrival, you ought to have accomodated them with a fair house, and rich moveables, and to have entertained them at your expence, and after that you had given them audience, you ought to have shewed your self liberal, and have given to the principal of them a Seal heavy with Diamonds, and to every one of the rest a great Chain of Gold. These are the gifts which Princes at this day do bestow on the Ambassadours sent to them, and sometimes they doe give things which are more pretious. It may be so (said Hortensius) but I never observed it in any Book. Francion replyed, The chiefest Book which you can read, is the Experience of the world. The present mode of these times it but a folly to me (said Hortensius) I do govern my self according to the Antients, and having nothing to bestow upon them, I did reserve my bounty to a better opportunity.
But tell me, What think you of it? Did not they say yesterday, that they could not attend any long time for me, having a charge to return with all speed. This, no doubt, was the ground of their sudden departure. For our parts we will follow them as soon as your Marriage shall be solemnized. Francion replyed, Betwixt this and that we will take further Counsel; I am afaid they will not have you for their King, and that they are gone to speak evil of you in their own Country.
These last words did leave a deep impression in the heart of Hortensius. He considered with himself, that possibly he had lost the Kingdom of Polonia by his own fault, and that he should have borrowed round sums of money, and put himself into a garb to have received and honoured the Ambassadours. But Raymond, to comfort him, said unto him, For what do you afflict your self? If you shall not be King, you shall not be lesse at the worst than you were ten days agoe. What pleasure could you have to command a barbarous and an unknown people? It is better by far to be a Peer at home, than a King abroad, and to be a Companion, as you always are, with men of gallant and ingenious spirits. A King is nothing else but an honourable Servant; The people are merry or asleep, when he is awake, and hath his head full of cares for them. When the Diadem was brought to Seleucus, did not he say, that he who knew the griefs and cares which it covered, would not deign to take it up from the Earth? and have you not read in Plutark many other excellent Examples concerning this subject?
This Discourse touched the very Soul of Hortensius, who immediatly, to overcome his affliction, caused a Book to be brought unto him, the subject whereof was, The contempt of Worldly Creatures, on which he did amuze his Spirit, whilst the others did solace themselves with all varieties of entertainments.
Francion, observing that this Pedant did fall into a humour which brought no pleasure to them, did passe away the greatest part of that day in discourse with his Mistresse, and the day following, considering that Hortensius could furnish them no more with accustomed entertainments of delight, instead of [Page 29]his natural Comedy, had recourse to the Italian Comedians, who came to play at Nays house. He found them to be a gallant Company, and after a few days he acquainted them with all the pleasant stories of this brave Master of his, when he was in the College under him, This was the only plot of their play, and at that time Signior Do [...]tor acted the part of the Pedant. Hortensius was present at this Comedy but he thought it was not concerning himself of whom they spake, he had too good an opinion of himself, to think would make plays of his actions.
The next morning the Comedians acted another play at Raymonds House. The Plot was a new invention, and composed of divers languages, which were but as a Medley, so that those who understood the Ita [...]ia [...] Tongue might easily apprehend them all. But on the day following there was a more famous company of Comedians, who had a Stage to act on. Francion, Raymond, Audebert, Du Buisson, and two other French Gentlemen, had not long before, given them a Comedy, in which they had all a hand; It was acted at Nays house: They had made it speedily, and very familiarly. It was altogether of Verses, which they had taken out of Roasard, Belleau, Buif, Desportes, Garnier, and other modern Poets: They made use of nothing but what they had already by heart, so that they had accommodated their Comedy according to that which was in their own Spirits, when others do captivate their Spirits to the rules and discourses of Comedy. Neverthelesse these pieces being hansomly brought together did suit very well, although it was fantastical enough. There were only some Melancholy Italians who took no pleasure in it, because they could not but with difficulty comprehend the French Poesie. Francion did indeavour to content these men with another device. The next day he caused a Comedy to be acted, which all manner of Nations could understand, for it was acted only by signes. He had caused it to be played in France once before; The signs and gestures were so familiar, that in a short time the Spectators might easily understand it.
Although he exercised himself in all these Fancies and Inventions, as we have said, yet they were not so long or tedious, but he had some time remaining to intertain his Mistresse. The day following was altogether dedicated to these affairs. The Company whom they had invited supped that Evening with Nays. Signior Hortensius was not forgotten, who, seeing all the world disposed unto mirth, was constrained to the same himself, although he was not now taken for a King, and had no more such great honour done unto him. And although some amongst them did begin to be serious, yet he would be now a little frolick, and having in his hand a Venice glasse made in the fashion of a Gondalo, he said, that those Philosophers were of all the most certain, who affirmed, that there were ships on the land, and that mean it by such a Vessel as that; and seeing Audebert about to drink, he said unto him, Take heed how you put good wine into a bad Vessel: What! Do you think (said Audebert) I will pour this wine down your throat? Hortensius finding himself to be hit so home, did change the discourse, and seeing two Partridges in one dish, he told Audebert that there were three Partridges, and did attempt to perswade him to it, saying oftentimes unto him. One and Two are Three. Audebert, to put an end to his Sophistical disputation, did give one of the Partridges to Buisson, and took the other himself, and said unto Hortensius, the third is for you, Do you take it. Hortensius observing himself so mocked, was desirous to be revenged, and the better to shew the subtilty of his Spirit, there were directly before him four Pigeons in another dish, by which he conceived he should be able to prove his former manner of argument to be of some value. He pretented one of them to two strange Gentlemen, who laughed at him, and said, One and Two are [Page 27]Three, and afterwards he presented another to Audebert and Du Buisson, and repeated the former words; which having done, he took the other two, and did put them on his own Trencher, saying, One and Two are Three. This Device did please so well, that even those who were deceived did approve it; But Francion, and the other Gallants who sat above, could not take notice of it, because the Table was long, and there were many who sate between them; but it was soon published, and Francion commending it, said, He remembred that Hortensius once before did play his part as handsomly: For when I was (said he) in the College under him, a Gentleman who was my Kinsman, did come to Paris with his Family, and invited us to a Supper. Amongst other things, there was a Pheasant on the Table, Monsieur the Pedagogue was intreated to cut it up, and to distribute it; He gave the Head to the Master of the Feast, saying, that it belonged to him, being Chief at the table; He gave the Neck to his Wife, because she was joyned to the Head, as was that; To the two Daughters he gave the two Leggs, because (he said) they loved Dancing; And to his Son, and to my self, he gave the two Wings, making us believe that it was our part, because, being young Gentlemen, we ought to love the Hawk on his Wing; For himself, he reserved the Body, saying, He ought to have it, as representing the Body of the Vniversity of Paris.
In the pursute of this Account they entred by degrees, and as were insensibly upon others, where Francion made so apparent his Wit, that all the Italians who were present, had afterwards for his own particular, the whole people of France in greater Estimation. As for Hortensius, He would also set forth himself, and that knowledge which he had; And as the Musicians were playing and singing, he did exercise his Eloquence in the Praises of Musick, and assured them, That the passions and affections of Men, did represent the severall parts of Musick; Humility (he said) did bear the Base, and Ambition the Trebble; Choler did bear the Tenor, and Revenge the Counter-Tenor; Prudence did keep Time; Nature did sing the plain Song, Artifice did quaver, Grief made the stops, sighs, and Dissimulation the feignings; And for the Instruments of Musick, Avarice played on the Harp, Prodigality on the Cornet, but not on the Melodious Cornet, but out of that Horn out of which the Gamester doth throw his Dice; Love playeth on the Violl, because it doth violate the Girls; Treason playes on the lewes-Trump, for it trumpeth all the World; and Iustice playes on the Hault-boyes, because she raiseth up that Gibbet, on which the Malefactors are executed.
These new applications gave much pleasure to all the Company, and they intreated the Doctor to make a more particular explication of whatsoever he had spoken in reference of the passions to Musick, which he did very willingly, believing that all the world admired him. After that, observing that Raymond did sometimes joyn with the Musicians in the Song, he did praise him to the Skies, and told him, That he should acknowledge himself most happy, if he could alwayes hear him. You are too full of Complement (said Raymond) Must I hold my peace then, (said Hortensius) when I behold an accomplished personage? You do equivocate now, (said Raymond.) I will make it appear (said Hortensius) it is no Equivocation; for I will shew you from whence the word Complementer is derived, Menteur in French, is a Lyar, and a Complementer is no more than an accomplished Menteur, that is to say, an accomplished Lyar. To please Hortensius, they made him believe that he had spoken far better than Raymond.
When the Guests were all departed, and Hortensius stayed only behind with these brave Gentlemen of France, Francion demanded of him, what [...]e thought of Nays? and if he did not believe that he was happy to have so [Page 28]fair a Mistresse? Hortensius, who had not wisdom enough to conceal what he thought, made answer, That those who marry Widdows, had no better Viands than Meat twice heated, and at the least discontent which these Wives should receive from their second Husbands, they would upbraid them with their former. But Raymond arriving when these words were speaking, did affirm, That it was not to be feared, but that Nays would find such qualities in the person of Francion, that it would make her to forget her first affections. For my self (said Francion) I cannot perceive that it will be any wayes disadvantagious to me to espouse a Widdow; She knows best what it is to love; I must of necessity have one; & if she hath had an Interest in another Man besides my self, what of that? How many Women have I known for that one Man? They had other Discourse on this Subject, after Hortensius was retired, and Francion declared, That nothing could disswade him from his choice of Nays, but that most highly he did esteem his Fortune; for all the Reasons that could be alleged, were not able to divert him from his Love, and his Design of Marriage. He did begin to look on all things with another eye than he had done heretofore, and did believe it was now high time to make an honest retreat.
THE TWELFTH BOOK OF THE COMICAL HISTORY OF FRANCION.
AS these two perfect Lovers did discourse together of their Affairs, there unexpectedly arrived a certain Gentleman, who was called Signior Bergamin, with whom Francion had before some little acquaintance, he did conceive very well of him, because he was of a most pleasant conversation. He gave him good Entertainment, and told him, that be wondred wherefore he so long had absented himself, and that he had lost much Mirth, because he had not been in their Company, having had much variety of delightfull Intertainment, and Comedies acted of all sorts, as well true, as feigned; Thereupon he made a short account of all that had passed concerning Hortensius, and of their other recreations that followed afterwards: But Bergamin had such little Intelligence, that he had not the least knowledge of it. He said, He was sorry his affairs had hindred him from having the honour to delight himself in their Company. Francion replyed. That he must now make them amends for the time which they had spent without him, by a long enjoyment of his agreeable Company. He did not speak this without Cause; for, to speak the truth, he could not find in all Italy so pleasant a Man as Bergamin, or more proper for those Recreations which they invented. In his Youth he had been a Comedian himself, and was esteemed the chief of that profession. Having left it off, it was all his Imployment to wait upon Courtiers, and to visit sometimes one, and sometimes another, and to play a thousand tricks before them. It was reported also, that it was no longer expedient that he should continue in the Company of the Actors, because he was able to act a whole Comedy himself. And to speak the truth, they were not deceived who made that Report; for there were some Parts which were made on purpose for him, which he oftentimes would act without having need of a Second; and having a Curtain drawn in the upper Corner of the Hall, he would oftentimes come forth, changing his habit according to the conditions of the persons whom he represented, and he would so disguise his Voice and Action, that he was not to be known; so that one would think there were divers other actors with him. This indeed might serve for those Scenes, in which but one Man was to be upon the Stage; but where there were to be two or more, he used some other artifice, in which he was not to seek. As for example, He would sometimes act the person of a Lover, speaking unto his Mistresse, whom he counterfeited to be [Page 2]locked up in Prison by her angry Father, or her jealous Husband, he would turn towards the wall to entertain her, and when it came to her turn to speak, he would counterfeit a womans Voice, and so different from the former, that one would verily believe, there were some Woman speaking behind the Arras; for he would turn his back on purpose, that no man might see his lips to move. Sometimes alone by himself he would represent a pleasant Mummery, and would shew his art very delightfully, acting three or four persons as they were speaking to one another upon the Theater. He had a supply of Gowns, Cloaks, Hats and Bonnets, which he suddenly would change in the Presence of the Spectators, without going behind the Arras. When he acted the part of a King, he would sit in a chair, and speak gravely to some Courtier, and immediatly afterwards he would put off his royal habiliments, and his Crown, and rising up from the chair, he would put himself into the posture of a Knight; and being afterwards to represent the part of a Country Clown, he would passe chearfully to it, and being clad in raggs, he would act his part so much unto the life, that there could nothing be beheld more delightfull. Afterwards he would take to the Chair of State again, and be in the quality of a Prince, and would change his Place, his Habit, and his Voice so often, that it was truly wonderfull.
This could he do as a Comedian, so that, without dissimulation, he might have been of great use in the gallantries of Francion, who had reason to be sorry for his absence. For the rest, he had so extraordinary an understanding, that his familiar Discourses were alwayes filled with remarkable Observations, and none in pleasance did exceed him. By reason of this, he was welcom to all great personages; Neverthelesse he was but very poor, for not applying himself to any one of them in particular, he had no constant Pension to entertain himself. They were glad to have his Company at Dinner; but they who received him at their Table, did as great Men are accustomed to do, who imagine they do those Men much honour and pleasure, whom they permit to eat with them. And yet he must be a jocular, and a frolick Companion with them; for if he had been melancholy, or silent,, he should not have been welcom another time.
He was in the number of those Men who had ordinarily a good Dinner, but seldom a Supper; for Suppers are rare in great Mens houses, and the entertainment of the Kitchin is but cold. He was very glad to have obtained the acquaintance of Francion, who lived splendidly, after the manner of the French; but of late, upon some occasions, he had discontinued his Company. He seemed now to be much changed, and to put on a serious Countenance, as if he had something on his Spirit that did much perplex it, and after his first Complement, he testified, that he would impart a Secret of great Importance to him.
And this he did without speaking any word, for he would not that his design should be discovered; he did therefore take him aside into a retired place of the Parlor, where they might not be understood. Raymond conjectured that it was done on purpose, and being a discreet Man, he kept himself at a distance, and would not hear what his Friends had no desire to communicate unto him. Bergamin demanded of Francion, How long it was since he had seen the fair Emilia, who was an Italian Lady, with whom he was acquainted since he came to Rome? Francion, seeming to give no great ear unto the Question, did ask him, If he did not yet hear what the whole City talked of, That he should marry Nays? and told him moreover, That being contracted to her, he could no longer attend to visit other Ladies. I know, said Bergamin, that your promise made to Nays is the publick Discourse of this City; but it is not more strong and more obligatory, than your promise made unto Emilia, which was before so many Witnesses: Moreover, the first promises [Page 3]do oblige us, and do render us incapable to make any other. Francion replyed, You do much amaze me to speak unto me in this manner; But you more amaze me, said Bergamin, to pretend to be surprized with amazement. Francion made answer, I am no wayes obliged to Emilia. But she allegeth, that you are (said Bergamin) so that you cannot marry with Nays, as you propound unto your self.
Bergamin spoke this with a most sober countenance; But Francion conceived it to be but a device, and that Bergamin did but play with him, so that the more [...]he did speak, the more did Francion remain without belief, and said unto him, I perceive well enough that you are in Jeast; But whom do you play with? It is with me who have given Lessons unto others; you, possibly do believe, that I know not so much as your self, It may be so, yet at least I know well enough how to defend my self from your artifices; let my deer Raymond partake of this contentment with us.
Thereupon he called Raymond, who of himself was very glad to come unto them, for by the manner of their Discourse he conceived that there was something of extraordinary importance; when he was approached, Francion told him, that Bergamin was one of the most delightfull Companions in the world, and that he would make him to believe that he had promised marriage to Emilia. Raymond, who had heard some Discourse concerning that Lady, did begin to give ear to what was spoken; but Bergamin redoubling his assurances, did speak in this manner; I am glad that you have called hither a witnesse, for you shall both perceive that I speak nothing, but what is to the purpose, and most credible. Take heed Francion that you are not deceived your self; I protest unto you, that Emilia hath assured me that you have promised to marry her upon the faith of a Gentlemen, and that you ought not to conclude any thing with Nays to the prejudice of your Word and Honour; Her Mother hath requested me to come unto you, and to advise you not to be so disloyal as to proceed further in that marriage. To this Bergamin did joyn a long Discourse against the unfaithfullnesse of Lovers, where he shewed the excellence of his memory in reciting several Authors which he had read, and he made apparent also the vivacity of his Spirit, in appropriating several choice things of his own invention. Sometimes he incouraged himself, and gave more grace unto his words by the gesture of an Orator, and kept his Countenance so well, that he seemed to be as excellent an Orator, as he was a Comedian. Francion knew not well how he should deport himself, whether he should laugh, or whether he should be angry, Neverthelesse he said unto Bergamin, that by how much the better he did speak, by so much he did testifie, that he knew the better how to dissemble. Bergamin made answer, that, in truth, Francion had seen some mimick fictions proceed from him, but they were appropriated to such persons as deserved to be abused, and not to Francion, who ought to be intreated in another manner, and that he was resolved to speak no more unto him, for suddenly he would hear of other assurances, which would be more forcible than any which he had spoken of as yet: Speaking those words he departed in a great passion, to observe, that because heretofore he was accustomed to prevaricate with Fables, they did now believe, that he neither was, or ever could be able to speak one word of Truth.
By this manner of his abrupt departure, it was collected, That what he did speak was in earnest, for had it been in jeast, he would have at last turned into laughter all that he had said, knowing well enough that he had not novices to deal with. When he was departed, Raymond said to Francion, I am consident that your Conscience is clear of the Crime which is imposed on you. Yes (replyed Francion) I dare assure you that there is no such thing, and howsoever it be carried, it must needs be some scandalous invention; [Page 4]but it moves not me at all, for I am above all these assaults.
They had some other Discourse on this subject, and afterwards they parted to go to their repose: The next morning Francion would wait upon Nays to give her a good morrow, but thinking to enter into her House with that liberty which he thought did belong unto him, one of the Servants came to acquaint him, that Nays was not yet ready. He stayed therefore some time below, of his own accord, but believed, whatsoever the Customs of the Italians were, that he might be permitted to come unto her, if she were but half ready, considering the Condition in which he was; and having a little time continued in this Patience, he attempted to go up the Stairs again; but it was told him, That on that day Nays was not disposed to see any one. Francion replyed, I believe you do not know me, honest Friend, or at least you pretend that you do not know me. If Nays should give order that no Man should have accesse unto her, I believe I ought to be excepted. Tell her therefore It is I who am here, and ask her, If she cannot make a distinction betwixt me and others. The Messenger made hast to perform the Command, and there came one of her Pages from her, to acquaint him from his Mistresse, That on that day she would neither speak with him, nor any one else, but for the dayes following, it might be she would admit some others to speak unto her, but not himself.
Francion was so moved to understand this answer, that he could willingly with his Cane have corrected the young Man for his sawcinesse, were it not for the respect which he did bear to the Livery, and the Colours of his Mistress. At the first he perswaded himself that this Answer proceeded from the Invention of this malicious Servant, but afterwards he concluded that he would never have been so unadvised as to bring such an answer to him, if he had not received a Commandment expresly for it. Believing therefore that this Answer came from Nays, he could not find the Cause of this so sudden an alteration. He asked those who were with him, What they conceived should be the reason of this denyal; but they could not render him any satisfaction to his demands. Sometimes he represented to himself, that it was altogether impossible that Nays should so undervalue him, and that all this was but a Device to solace her self a little; and he thus discoursed with himself thereon, If it were a Camisade which my Mistresse is pleased to give me, I shall give her a greater occasion to laugh at me, if I should return without seeing her, as having too great an apprehension to displease her; so that it would be better to use violence, and enter with confidence into the place where she is, for all the advertisements of her Servants; for although she should be a little angry, I know how to appease her, and the contract for our Marriage being already passed, I am confident I may be well allowed to assume that liberty But on the contrary, if it be true that she doth disdain me, and that she already repenteth what but yesterday she did, to what purpose should I go unto her? would it not cause her choler to increase against me? And were it not better to proceed more gently on this affair?
The Spirit of Francion was hereupon in a great Incertainty, and sometimes he would conclude with himself, that it was no easie thing to put up this affront, and if shame had not diswaded him, he would have forced his way to the sight of Nays, but he considered with himself, that if he could not then see her for all the violence he should use, she would but laugh at him the more: so that, at the last he concluded, that it was better to use some artifice, and to dissemble that the Message sent unto him did not much displease him, and to return without the least noise. Having better thought upon it, he said unto some of the Servants who were then about him, I must professe unto you (honest Friends) that I have but a Treacherous Memory, I had quite forgot that Nays yesterday did tell me, that she desired I should not this day take the [Page 5]pains to come unto her; but the Impatience of my affection is the Cause thereof. Having spoke that, he did go away chearfully to outward apparence, but so inwardly afflicted, that he hardly could expresse unto Raymond the Indignity he received. He said, It made but ill for him on whatsoever side it was, for if it were true that Nays did undervalue him, the shame thereof would redound unto himself more than unto her, but if she were pleased to make some mirth thereat, it was also very disadvantagious to him, having deserved to be used more honourably; And if the affairs had not been passed so far in the way of marriage, it were not so difficult to provide a remedy, but they had so far advanced themselves, that he could not now disingage with honour. Raymond did remonstrate to him, that he ought not to trouble his Spirit with so many suppositions, without knowing what was the true cause which gave this distast to Nays, for the effecting whereof, he ought, he said, to have recourse to Dorini, or some other of the Kinred of Nay. Francion replyed thereunto, that it did most of all afflict him, to see that his Fortune was so suddenly changed, when he thought it was the most established, and he believed that for the time to come every one would laugh at him, and by turns make him the Ladder for their mirth to climb upon, as Bergamin already had begun to do. Raymond considering this adventure, and comparing it with that which before arrived to him, he conceived that the one might well have relation to the other; wherefore he desired him freely to declare unto him how Bergamin came to enter into such a familiarity with him, as to know the course of his most private affaires, and what was the ground thereof, when he said, that he had made a promise to marry Emilia.
It is true (said Francion) that amongst friends, such as we are, there is nothing to be concealed, and how can you give me Counsell in my affairs, if you are not entirely acquainted with them? A Physician can prescribe no Receipt unto his Patient, without first he be acquainted with his Disease. I committed a fault yesterday to speak thereof too sparingly unto you. It was a Trespass, I must confess, against the laws of my Duty, but you will hold me excusable, if you will consider that it proceeded rather from a shame, which did detain my words, than from any defect in my affection. I of a truth therefore doe declare unto you, that having received the assurances of the good will which Nays did bear unto me, and having made many oathes and protestations to her, that I did know not any one more beautifull, and found nothing in the world more agreeable than herself, I had no longer the curiosity to look after other beauties which before I esteemed; But wherefore should this Lady exercise over me so tyrannical a power, as to have my eyes blinded from beholding any other objects? Hath not Nature ordained sight and Judgement unto men, to contemplate, and to admire all the beauties in the world? Being arrived at Rome, which is the Queen of all other Cities, I should shew my self to have but little Spirit, If I should not observe if the Ladies are not more beautifull here than in any other place. As for the Courtisans, we may see them easily enough, but for civil and virtuous women it is very difficult, and this difficulty doth augment the desire, and renders the pleasure more great when we arrive to the height of our design. I have used my utmost endeavour to see some of them, both in their Churches, and in the places where they are accustomed to walk, and sometimes they have not been so well veiled, but I have contemplated their beauties; but amongst all those whom I have seen, there is none so beautifull as Emilia.
Since my first comming unto Rome I have conversed with some French Gentlemen, amongst whom I alwayes found this Bergamin, who was most familiar with those of them who were most debauched, and given to the greatest expences. His gallantries did so much please me, that I desired him, [Page 6]That we might often see one another, and he himself, according to his promise, did not fail to give me many visits. One morning he made his addresses to me, as I was comming out of the Church, and he did me the favour to conduct me to another, where I beheld two Ladies, one of them seemed to stoop under the burden of Age, and the other, whom I conceived to be her Daughter, was one of the best featured, and the most beautifull that possibly could be seen. I supposed with my self, That Bergamin had such Acquaintance in Rome, that he could tell me who they were; but at that time he was unable to inform me; for this City is so peopled, that hardly one Neighbour knoweth another, howsoever he assur'd me, that in a very short time he would satisfie my Desires. I requested him to have me in his remembrance; and because these Ladies were going from the Church towards their own Lodgings, he counselled me to stand still a while, and he would follow them, to see into what House they entred. He stayed three quarters of an hour, which seemed very tedious to me, and I was even about to be gone, believing that he had lost his way. At the last he returned, and assured me, That those two Ladies had their Lodgings close unto that Church, and shewed me the House; but the reason, he said, wherefore he staid so long, was, because that hard by he had met with a Gentleman whose company was of great consequence for the knowing of that which I so much desired. He told me, that he was the Man who was imployed in the managing of all their affairs, and that at that present they were intricately molested in a great Sute at Law, having been inforced to forsake Venice, their Native Country, to come to Rome to follow their Cause. He told me, that the Husband of Lucinda, who was the Mother of Emilia, had commenced a Processe against a Gentleman of Rome, who despairing of his Cause, had recourse to Violence, and treacherously killed him; whereupon the Widdow and her Daughter were come to Rome to demand Justice on the Offender. When I understood this, I demanded, If the Sollicitor were not of power to bring me to the sight of the Ladies? Bergamin replied, It would be unnecessary, I do conceive, at this time to propound that question to him. When I understood that the Name of the old Lady was Lucinda, I immediately changed the Scene of my Discourse, and did bias it another way; I assured him, That when I demanded of him who those Ladies were, it was out of a curiosity of Indifferency, and not out of any vehemence of affection. We Italians (said Bergamin) are prone to jealousie, and far from that Liberty which you Frenchmen do professe; But because the Sollicitor, whose Name is Salviati, is of a sociable disposition, I promise you I will take the opportunity to be more familiar with him.
Having spoke this, Bergamin did withdraw himself, to go to Dinner to a Signior who had that morning invited him. The next morning he came to me again, and told me, That he had another conference with Salviati, and that he had spoken to him of me, and assured him, that although I was a Stranger, yet my Condition and Deserts did render me most esteemed amongst the Great Ones, insomuch that I was very capable to assist those who were in Distresse; and that having heard of the Disaster which had befallen the House of Lucinda, I had pity of her, and wished that it might lie in my power to do her any service. He therefore advised him to addresse himself to me, and to give me a particular account of the whole businesse; for he said I was throughly experienced in the affairs of Law: But as for the manner of the Death of Fabius, the Husband of Lucinda, he said, It were better if I would be pleased to take the pains to speak with her my self. I promised him (said Bergamin) to acquaint you with it, and behold how all things do succeed according to your Desire? Hereupon I did embrace Bergamin, being transported with a great joy, that I had found the means to be acquainted with Lucinda. Bergamin said unto me, But stay a little, we [Page 7]must be wise, and use precautions in this businesse; I can speak to Salviati of Lucinda, because she is antient, and therefore not to be suspected, but I know not how to make mention to him of her Daughter. With much difficulty I have learned that her Name is Emilia. I replyed to him, Let me alone with it, I will deport my self according to the Italian humor; and because you have given such a good report to Salviati of me, I will be carefull that you shall not therein be found a Lyar. Bergamin, having continued with me a little while after this Discourse, did repair into the City, and assured me that he would bring Salviati along with him; I was unwilling that he should come unto my own Lodging, because of the great numbers of French Gentlemen who constantly came to visit me. I was at that time, brave Raymond, lodged in the same House with you, and, I will not dissemble with you, it was from you from whom most precisely I would conceal my self. I thought, if you had understood of my dealings and practices with the Italians, you would have suspected something, and hindred my Design. Oh no, said Raymond, To believe that, were to doubt of my affection. You knew, replyed Francion, It was at the same time when I was courting of Nays, and that was one of the Reasons why I did conceal it from you. What? said Raymond, Do you take me to be an Enemy unto Nature? Since you are not yet possessed of Nays, Why shall it not be permitted to you to court another? Nay, Suppose that you had been married to her, you would not be the first to whom Love hath given passions to inthrall your self to another Beauty. Let us live together as we have been accustomed; there is nothing that should disswade you from declaring your Secrets unto me. So, said Francion, We should be guilty of one anothers Debauchments; Give me leave to tell you, There are some things which even Shame doth forbid us to declare unto our Friends, and they ought not to be offended if they do not reveal them; for, if they be but Indifferences proceeding from Female causes, it will no wayes diminish Friendship to conceal them. But to perfect my adventure, I must acquaint you, That I desired Bergamin to bring Salviati with him to a Church where I would be walking. Bergamin did applaud the counsel, for that, said he, would be as if by accident we did meet with you, and I will not acquaint him, that you are waiting there in the expectation of him. In this manner it was carried; and although I perceived that Salviati did put on a grave and a reserved Countenance, I with many Complements did invite them both to Dine with me. Salviati seemed to be very unwilling, and ceremonious; but Bergamin overcame his resistances, and we did go together into an Ordinary where we might be accommodated at what rate we pleased. There we did enter into a perfect acquaintance, and Bergamin taking an occasion to speak of Lucinda, did openly professe that I might be very helpfull to her. Sir, you shall then perform a great work of Charity (said Salviati) she is a Widdow, without Friends, and without protection. She knows not any one in Rome, except my self, who have a long time dwelled in Venice; but all that I can do is but to follow the Law for her, having no countenance at all from the great Officers of Iustice. I could wish that she might be so happy as to find one that may assist her, not only for the good will I do bear unto her, but also for my own consideration; for the compassion which I have had on her Misfortunes, hath ingaged me in certain round Sums of moneys unto divers Merchants, which I know not how to return, if her Sute in Law doth not find a happy event. I replyed to him, That I was acquainted with some Cardinals of the greatest power, with whom I had been familiar at Paris, before they arrived to that height of Dignity; and having saluted them since my comming to Rome, they so nobly intertained me, that I believe they will not deny any civil courtesie which I shall demand of them. He made answer, That in truth it is daily observed, [Page 8]that those great Personages do render themselves more easie and favourable to Strangers, than to those of their own Nation; for they undervalue those whom they see every day, and in obliging those who are Foreiners, they do hope, it will render their courtesy, and their renown, more glorious. Those words were not acceptable unto me, for they tended not to cause me to understand, that if I were high in the favour of the Great Ones, it was for some eminent Deserts with which they saw me to be indued. I looked on him as a blunt Fellow, who knew not what did belong to the Civilities of a Courtier, and because they should not entertain a base opinion of me, I gave them to understand, That it was not my Custom to Dine in such places as where I then was, but only at that time I did inforce my self unto it, that more freely I might enjoy their Company. Speaking those words, they both stooped, and made many Reverences unto me, and having both expressed their thankfull obligations, Salviati said unto me, That if I would take the pains to give a visit to Lucinda that afternoon, she would take it for a great honor, and receiving the particulars of her Cause from her own mouth, I should be the better able to inform them to whom the greatest places in the Seats of Justice did belong. I was ravished to hear this Proposition, hoping that I should have the happinesse to see Emilia also, although he made not the least mention of her. Bergamin knowing that his presence was unnecessary, did willingly leave us, and accompanied with Salviati, I came to the House of Lucinda; It was but a little one, but commodious enough for a Widdow-woman, who lived alone in it. Salviati entred into it as freely as if it had been his own, and we found Lucinda in the Hall, and her Daughter Emilia with her. I must protest unto you, that I never did behold a more delicat creature; I fastned my eyes upon her, but as soon as she perceived it, she did retire her self into the Parlor. Salviati represented to Lucinda, that I was the Man of whom in the morning he had made mention to her, and that he hoped I should be very profitable for the advancement of her Affairs. She received me with very civil complements; for she was a Woman of a gallant Spirit and Behaviour, and was lovely enough, being not so old as the weeds of her Widdowhood did make her to appear. Having related to me all along the proceedings of her Husband against one called Tostat, who deteined a great part of his Estate from him, she told me also how he was killed as he was travelling from Venice unto Padua, and that the said Tostat being apprehenhended, she came to Rome to follow the Law against him, and hoped, that being condemned to Death, she should have great Damages and Interests awarded her. I repeated to her the promises which I had made to her Sollicicitor; but I protest unto you, I had much to do to remember the words she spake, so much was my Spirit diverted by the Beauties of Emilia, I could not but curse the Custom of the Italians, which do not allow us the civil liberty to look on their Wives or Daughters. At the last it so happily did fall out, that Lucinda did begin to talk of her, which was a great comfort to me. She said, That she did not much care for any great Dammages the Law should give her, for she had enough already to content her during her life, having but one Daughter, who was shortly to enter into a Religious House, and to have no more to do with the goods of Fortune. I assumed the freedom to demand of her, If it were she whom I saw when I first came into her House? She told me Yes; and as I did represene unto her that there were some Men who would think themselves most happy to have such a Wife, She replyed, she was descended of Honourable Parentage, but having not means enough to marry her according to her Birth, the safest way she could take with her, was to put her into a Nunnery. We maintained other Discourse on this subject, and after that I conceived that I had stayed long enough, I took my leave of her: Being gone, I demanded of Salviati if in good earnest Emilia was resolved [Page 9]to confine her self unto a Cloister? He told me, Yes; and that she only stayed for money to give unto the Prioress, which her Mother hoped to receive from the charity of well-affected people. For my self, said I, I shall be ready to assist her; but I should be more glad my money should serve to marry her, than to retire her from the world. He laughed at those words, and we discoursed afterwards of her Beauty, and her Merit. I must confesse unto you, that having seen her, I was the more incited to do something for her Mother, and I endeavoured what lay in my power that she might gain her Processe, to the end that she might have wherewith to marry her Daughter according to her Condition and Degree.
I took my leave of Salviati, and visited all those one after another whom I conceived to be capable to assist Lucinda. After the end of two days I returned to her, to give her an account of what I had done. She thanked me most heartily, and told me, That she should confesse her self to be much obliged to me all the dayes of her life. We were then alone in the Hall, when behold Emilia came in. She seemed to be something abashed to behold me, and made as though she would return from whence she came; but her Mother did command her to stay, which was indeed a very acceptable recompence for the pains I had taken. I parlyed to her with that discretion which is practised in that Country, and I did not praise her but very modestly. Neverthelesse I made it appear, that she had touched me within my heart, and that I much desired to have such a Mistresse. I stayed with her as long as possibly I could, and taking my leave, I promised her Mother that I would visit some other Lords on her behalf, which I performed with extraordinary care. I must confesse that Nays is beautifull, but Emilia hath such attractions, that when I see not Nays, I cannot but contemplate on Emilia. I no longer did content my self with my antient delights, I had rather have perpetually entertained my self with this, if it had been possible for me; but I found I could not arrive unto it but by marriage only. To marry Emilia was not pleasing to me, she having no other riches but what were grounded on a Processe, which might be as well lost as gained. Neverthelesse I deliberated with my self, that if I would receive any Pleasure from her, it must be by the pretence of Marriage; so that oftentimes I discoursed with Salviati concerning her, and told him, that he must not give way unto her to enter into a Relligious house; that it was no true Devotion that did perswade her to it, but her Mothers, and her own Ambition, because for the present she had not wealth enough to Marry her according to her Condition: She was endued, I said, with such perfections, that divers persons of quality would take her freely, without demanding any Dowry but her Vertue. I in that manner did so discover my self unto him, that he perceived. I did speak of my self, of which he was very glad, and I believe did advertise Lucinda of it. But because I could not see her every time I did go to her Mothers house, and could not speak aloud unto her before her Mother, it did much afflict me, being accustomed to speak freely to young Gentlewomen, after the Manner of the French. I could not expresse my Love unto her, nothing did speak but my eies only; but in this Country of Italy, but one glance, or little action, will oftentimes speak more to purpose, than all the long entertainments of other Nations. I could not be satisfied with that, and was therefore resolved to write unto her, and to desire Salviati to deliver my Letters. To write unto her a Letter of Love seemed to be too bold, and too difficult an enterprize for the first time, I only composed a Discourse, where I introduced a Shepherd complaining, that he could not discover his passion to his Shepherdess; This was as a thing indifferent, which did not addresse it self unto any one in particular, and having shewed it to Salviati, he promised me to find out a way that Emilia should have a sight of it, although she had taken an Oath not to peruse any thing at all which did not speak of Devotion; for in things which are excellent to the [Page] world, we look not so much on the Subject as the Beauty of the Piece. I used all my Art and Industry, and did write it in Italian, with the help of a Poet of this City, who corrected the faults which I made; for having been resident here but a short time, I have not yet the propriety of the language. My Sollicitor of Love, rather than of Law, did on the next morning inform me, that my Letter was very pleasing to Emilia, so that I took the confidence to write unto her two or three Letters of Love one after the other, which this man did very willingly deliver for me; We now called one another Cosins, and Bergamin had spoken so well of me, that with what he himself observed in me, he was wonderfully incited to serve me; Nay, he did more, he procured me an answer from Emilia: It was a short one indeed, but very favourable, and such a one as I my self could have wished. The fair Emilia did permit that on that Evening I should give her a Visit, her Mother being in Bed, by reason of the Indisposition of her Body. I failed not to wait upon her, according to her direction, without fearing what might arrive; I found the Door of the House only put to, and not latched, I therefore entred into the Hall, where Emilia did attend my comming, having with her no light but that of the Moon, who darted her beams into a little window, the Casement whereof was open. I thereupon had light enough to discover that I was not deceived, and that I had before me that wonderfull Beauty; I would have thanked her for the favour she had done me, in the fairest words I could expresse; but she assured me, that I must be thankfull only to my own importunity, which had overcome her to permit me to come unto her, to understand what was the Subject of my Complaint. I made answer to her, That the greatest happinesse that possibly could arrive unto me, was to see her, by what means soever it could be effected, but she ought not therefore to reject the Obligation which I pretended to her Beauties. By little and little I entred into Discourse with her, and made her more sensible of my passion by my Tongue, than I had done before by my Pen. I discoursed with her of the Design she had to enter into a Religious House. She told me, That the same desire continued with her, for she believed that no Man would be so desperat, as to marry a Maid so unfortunate as her self. I will deny nothing to you, brave Raymond, I made answer to her, That she a Thousand times surpassed a number of those Ladies who had a more prosperous Fortune; and if she would vouchsafe to love me, I would undertake to put a Period to her Misfortunes, and to render her the happiest, and most contented Creature in the World. I did speak unto her in these very terms, and added not one syllable more unto them; and she conceiving to her self that I had made a promise of Marriage to her, did swear unto me faithfully to recompence my affection. I kissed her hands, and her naked arms, as often as I pleased, but I touched not her lip but only once. I had a desire to have used all my force in some other place; for we who are true Warriers do understand well enough, that some Forts are more easie to be taken in one corner than another; I did attempt to feel her Brests, & three or four times I obtained what I desired. I had a violent desire to pass further, and at that instant to have enjoyed all that I could hope for; for in Love we must take all that we can while Fortune smileth upon us. It is Discretion to take, and to make use of that to day, which we do not know whether we may have to morrow or not: But I perceived that I fell far short of my Account. She assured me, That she would never see me more, if I would not demean my self more civilly towards her; and that I ought to content my self with the hazard, into which for my sake she had put her self, which, if it were known, would be enough to dishonor her for ever. I would not force her; for I believed it would be unprofitable; and when she made me to understand that it was time for her to retire, I departed as contentedly as I came unto her; and of Necessity it must be, that they were all fast asleep within, or that the Men and Maidservants [Page 11]were of the Plot with her; for I heard not the least noise at all. I would not discover unto Salviati that I had been with her; It was sufficient for me to be happy, without making others acquainted with it. He did conceive that I was beloved by Emilia, having delivered into my hand a Letter from her; but I did not open it before him, because I would not shew him the Contents thereof. Neverthelesse he freely declared himself, that he doubted not but that the most beautifull Maid had a desire to witnesse to me all sort of affections, in the recompence of my own, because she was extraordinary glad to have found a Person of Honour that would marrie her, and maintain her in the world, having no mind unto the Cloyster, but only in case of necessity. I made no answer to him, but only in obscure terms; to the end that he might interpret them as he himself pleased. Howsoever I hoped that by this means at last I should be able to satisfie my love. I did write again unto Emilia, and I received an answer which did permit me to give her a Second Visit, but I did no more than at the first time. She seemed to be much incensed against my violence, and told me, That I did use her far more uncivilly than I ought; and, if my affection were so impatient, I should demand her in marriage of her Mother. I did demonstrate to her, that I was a Strange, and although I had large possessions, I could not be so well accommodated, as is a Man in his own Country; That before I thought of Marriage, I ought to put my self into a condition to support the Charges of it, it being a businesse of that consequence, that I should acquaint my Kinred with it. She replyed to me, That if I had loved accordingly as I said, I would ask no counsel, but of Love only; and as for Wealth, I had enough where I was to content her. I believe she did perceive that I had an Intent to have deceived her; for after that time she entertained me with no more favourable Language, so that abruptly I did depart from her. I afterwards did write three Letters unto her, to which she returned but one Answer, in which she accused me of treachery and ingratitude. For all that, I continued to come unto her Mothers House, but I did see her Daughter but seldom, or if I had seen her, it was without speaking to her. I only conferred with her Mother, to be informed of the time in which I was to make my most powerfull Sollicitations on her behalf; but Salviati did represent unto us, That by reason of the crafty proceedings of the opposite Party, a Demurre was made in the hearing of her Canse. When I perceived there was no hope to gain what I desired of Emilia, I did not with such heat follow the Sute; and because at that time also I courted Nays, who daily did increase her affections towards me, I only served her, and doubled my attendance on her. At that time the learned Hortensius, by his gallantries, did cause us to passe away our time in laughter, which brought some ease to the impatiency of my Spirit. Salviati once or twice demanded of me, How I thrived in my Loves? And what was the reason that I was so rare a Guest at Lucindaes house? But I coldly replyed, That I was afraid to appear too importunate. I believe he perceived well enough that I had a thorough change wrought upon me; but because he did speak no more unto me, I also did endeavor to eschew his Company, as much as possibly I could: and some time it is since I heard any mention made of Emilia, until Signior Bergamin did now speak of her. I made nothing of it, as you perceived; for what reason had I to yield unto that which he alleged. It may suffice that I have told you the truth of all, without augmentation or diminution, and you may now understand if Emilia hath a just Cause to desire any thing of me.
Francion having thus finished his Discourse, Raymond said unto him, That if this in truth were all, Emilia could not constrain him to any thing; but since she had discovered her most secret affairs, which were made known to Bergamin, he ought to have a care of that Bergamin, who by his flouting Arts might make him ridiculous to the World. I know not what he will do, said Francion, [Page 12]for Lucindaes and Emilias sake, but I conceeive he came to the intelligence of it from Salviati. I believe they gave him this commission to come unto me, being a man of a more apprehensive Spirit, and of a more courtly presence, than his friend. But howsoever it be, neither one nor the other of them have any cause at all to laugh at me. I have taken much pleasure at the entertainment of Emilia, and can tell you something else which is more than that, but that was not able to recompence my service, for at that time I desired nothing more than her presence, and esteemed it to be equal to the greatest happinesse which the world could afford. It may be alleged, it hath cost me something, it may be so, but it is so little, that it is not considerable. Salviati taking notice one time that I was buying so many yards of Genoa Sattin as would make me a compleat suit, did tell me, that he would also buy some of the same piece, to make him a Doublet, which he would wear with a pair of Breeches of Spanish cloath. He took some of the same, and suffered me to pay for his Sattin with my own. In the same manner he sometimes also sollicited my liberality, and his Camrade was not wanting in the same invention, but because they had done some courtesies for me, I did not refuse to be assisting to them. To what end do riches serve but for honourable expences? You have reason so to say, replyed Raymond, we must have pity on those honest fellows, whose imployment it is to make us merry. Men are made to be helpfull one to another; and for such Drols as these, they could not live if it were not for such persons as our selves. But if Bergamin shall come again, I would advise you not to despise his Remonstrances; It were better to gain him by mildnesse (which I believe is an easie thing to doe) that so you may me be assured of him, and the management of your loves may be concealed.
As they were in this communication, Dorini came to see them, and turning to Francion, he told him, that all was spoiled, and that Nays was in such a passion against him, that she could not be appeased. Her love, he said, was turned into hatred, and she would break whatsoever had passed betwixt them, and had sworn to the performance of it. Are you in good earnest, said Francion, and is it by her expresse commandement that I must come no more unto her? It is a resolution unworthy of her, and I deserve not to be so rejected. Dorini made answer, But observe the reasons of my Kinswoman, I will dedeclare unto you what most unfortunately hath happened. Yesterday late in the Evening there came two Ladies to her house, who desired to speak with her, one of them was called Lucinda, and the other was her Daughter Emilia, they are both of Venice, and are come to Rome to follow a sute of Law. Nays believed that they addressed themselves unto her to sollicite some friends of hers on their behalf, as she hath some Kinsmen who sit in the chief seats of Justice, she therefore commanded that they should come in, being extremely charitable to all of her sex; But she heard another businesse, quite contrary to that which she expected. Francions heart began to pant at this word of Emilia, and already did suspect his mis-fortune; which when Dorini perceived, he thus continued his discourse. Lucinda having taken Nays aside, did represent unto her, that she was very sorry that she no sooner understood what had passed betwixt you and her, but at the first intelligence she made all the hast she could to forbid the Banes, and to declare unto her, that you had promised marriage to her Daughter. Howsoever she hoped that the affair was not so far advanced, but that a remedy might be yet appled, and that Nays had understanding enough not to be married to such a man, who having contracted himself to another Lady, had so manifestly abused both of them. Nays had a good opinion of these two Ladies, who were accounted to be honest and honourable, and she made no doubt but that their allegations were true. At the last Emilia produced a Letter which you had wrote unto her, by which Nays most apparently did perceive, that you were most passionately inamoured on her. Lucinda [Page 13]moreover did acquaint her, that you had seen her Daughter alone, and that you then had promised to espouse her. This did wonderfully possesse Nays, and did exasperate her against you, which at that time she did not make apparent, for she is a Woman of an admirable discretion, although she cannot but with great impatience indure an affront. Emilia said but little, but she wept abundantly, as well for her own fault as for yours, being ashamed that she had so much obliged an ungratefull person to her; but her Mother did speak for her, and related to Nays the good Entertainment which oftentimes she had given you, in hope to have you her Son-in-Law, in which she forgat the Custom of her Country, where Men are not so freely entertained by Ladies, as in your own.
Nays seemed to be satisfied at the testimonies which she had seen, and without the least sign of passion, assured Lucinda, that she for her own part would no ways hinder your return to Emilia; and being convinced of your inconstancy, she was resolved no more to esteem of you, and not so much as once again to see you. With this assurance Lucinda and Emilia departed, and Nays bringing them to her door, did thank them for the favor they had done her, in delivering her from the danger in which she was ready to have involved her self, by marrying a Man so perfidious as your self. I believe she did take but little rest that night; for the day no sooner appeared, but the unquietnesse of her Spirit was so great, that she sent for me to come unto her, to acquaint me with these ungratefull tydings. I could not go so soon as I desired, because I was imployed in affairs of great importance; but comming to her at the last, she related this unto me in a marvellous choler, and transportation of Spirit, and commanded me to desire you to come no more unto her; for she believed she should be guilty of a great crime, if she should permit you to come within her Doors. When she makes any mention of you, it is with these Epithets of Perfidious, and Ingratefull, and with the appellations of Traytor, and Monster; and she hath resolved with her self to make void whatsoever she hath contracted with you. For my part, I know not what to say unto her, she is very angry with me, and tels me that I am the cause of her Misfortune, having spoken better of you than you deserved. I must confesse, to my own shame, that she hath just reason to complain, Emilia hath left with her one of her Letters, which she hath shewed unto me; and never take me to be the Man as I am, but to be without Eyes and Judgement, if I do not believe that you did write that Letter.
Francion, having listned to him very attentively, said, That he would never deny but that he had wrote Letters to Emilia, and that he had often seen her; But (my brave Dorini) said he, Doe not you understand me better? Doe you think that I cease to be what I have been, or that you are changed from what you were? Do you not know that we have alwayes lived in that liberty, which untill this hour you never did complain of? I know not for what cause you do speak unto me with so much animosity. Dorini did reply unto him, When I saw you first of all in France at Raymonds Castle, I was not moved at your irregular and unconstant affections, for you were then in the height of your Youth; but now you are to put on a more austere, and reserved garb. I do professe unto you, said Francion, That now I am obliged so to do, since yesterday I was contracted unto Nays, and if hereafter I shall commit any wanton Act contrary to that obligation, I shall adjudge my self to be extremely guilty; but at that time when I courted Emilia, I was not contracted unto Nays. But why, replyed Dorini, Did you Court her with so much Passion, having professed so much Service to my Kinswoman? You had otherwise been excusable, and we do believe that Emilia, in some Letters of yours, can show your promise of Marriage under your own hand. Did she shew any such Letter unto Nays, said Francion? No, replyed Dorini, but she believes she hath reserved [Page 14]that Letter with an intent to shew it to the Iudge before whom you will be brought, which will make much against you. I protest unto you (said Francion) she hath no such Letter. But for all that, replyed Dorini, We doe imagine that you had your pleasure with her. You know (said Francion) that I alwayes have been addicted to the pleasures of Love; You may therefore believe I should not have been sorry to have enjoyed her, neither would I conceal it if I had done it; for sometimes it is one part of the contentments of a Conqueror to sing the glories of his Triumph. And, if it were so, I do believe she could have no great Action against me; for the Iudges observing her lightness to be so soon surprized by a Stranger, would be prone to take my part, and to apptebend that she had been before of a loose Conversation: And Nays ought in reason to reject me for that, for we see no Man so sensless as to refuse his good Fortune; but all this is but nothing, I am confident that I have not failed in any thing, and do not deserve that rough usage I have received. I will conceal nothing from you, but give you a full account of all that hath passed betwixt Emilia and my self.
Hereupon Francion repeated the History almost in the very same words as he told it before to Raymond, and Dorini professed to him, that if there were nothing else, he in truth was not so faulty; but he should find a very hard task to perswade his Cosin to beleive it, who was a Woman entire in her resolutions, and would absolutely make all void that she had contracted: Neverthelesse he promised Francion, that for his own part he would act nothing against him. Raymond, who had a great power over, did intreat him not to fail in this promise to his Friend, and he would demand no other recompence for the great affection which he had alwayes born unto him. He assured him, that he would be favourable to him, and so took his leave of them both, being amazed at so sudden, and so great a change.
This did render Francion very melancholly, for he knew he could no where meet with a better Fortune than Nays; it did torment him to lose her, and it did more torment him that he must lose her with dishonor; but Raymond did the best he could to draw him out of his amazement and affliction. He told him that he must put on a generous resolution, and if he married not Nays, he might find every where Women enough, They, he said, were a Common Merchandise, and it would not be for his advantage to abandon his Fortunes in France, to dwell in Italy. Raymond spoke this on his own behalf, for it grieved him to lose his Company, and to be inforced to return to France without him; so that, whatsoever he had spoke to the contrary, he had rather his Marriage should be broken off, than accomplished. Francion seemed in some measure to approve of what he said, and they both consented to go abroad, the better to passe away their Discontents, for it was not yet Dinner time, and they had a desire to hear Masse.
They repaired to the next Church, where there were but few people, yet nevertheless as they walked in the Cloisters they were so pressed with the Crowd, that they were amazed at it. At the last, as they entred into an obscure Chapel, Francion felt a hand sumbling in his Pocket. He was alwayes subtle and diligent, and immediatly did put his hand down to take hold of his who was tampering with his Pocket; but the Pick-pocket withdrew it so suddenly, that Francion missed of his intention. He immediatly cryed out, a Cut-purse, a Cutpurse, and commanded his Lackeys to pursue him; but he conveyed himself away so cunningly, that they could not find him. Francion, having put his hand into his Pocket, did perceive that his money was still there, insomuch that he said, That the slippery Companion had not the leisure to finish his work; and that he ought to comfort himself; for if he had lost his money, as he had lost his Love, he had reason to say, that all the Misfortune in the world had happened to him on that day. After that, he heard Masse with Raymond, and [Page 20]as they came out the Church, they resolved with themselves to walk into the City. Francion, as he passed by them, found himself much importuned by the Tradesmen, who perpetually demanded of him, What do you lack? What do you lack? which did begin to displease him, and he always found some of those men crossing him in his way, whom he had observed at Masse, who were people but of a mean condition, and presaged no good unto him. In the end he stayed at a perfumers shop, having a desire to buy some Cyprian powder, and pulling his money out of his Pocket (for he never used a Purse) be was much astonished to find three times as much money in his Pocket as he had put into it, and that they were pieces of more value; he shewed them to Raymond, and said unto him, that he believed that the money did grow and multiply in his pocket, or else he must acknowledge, that at Rome were the bravest Cut-purses in the world, who instead of taking away mens moneys, doe give them a great deal more than they had before; And if that this did so fall out on every day, he would let them dive into his Pocket as often as they pleased. The Cut-purses of Paris were but knaves and bunglers, he said, to the Cutpurses of Rome, and had no such Art that was so profitable to the people. Raymond made answer to him, That the Cut-purses did politickly in it, to put in more money, for it was to charm those Pockets they did intend to pick, that so having helped to fill them at first, they might empty them at last for altogether. You speak with good reason, said Francion, I believe this Pilferer would have done the same, or peradventure he conveyed in my Pocket the money which he stole from others, that I should keep it for a time for him. See here his Quadruples which I never touched before; If this money be not presently imployed, it will peradventure be of no profit to me, for it may be it was not well got, I will therefore find one speedy way or other to lay it forth. As he spoke that, there approached to him four men, and one of the said unto him, that he must give him an account where he had that money, and that was not all, for he told him that he had other things to lay unto his charge, whereupon he commanded the other three to apprehend him, and carry him away to prison. Francion told him, that he had committed no fault at all, and Raymond with the Lackeys would have rescued him, but there came in half a dozen Serjeants to secure the prisoner. There were also many Citizens, who walking up and down the streets, would have been ready to have assisted them, and moreover, a man ought to be most carefull in that well-governed City, for if he had affronted a Serjeant or his Yeoman, or any other officer, he should be most severely punished, Raymond, having done what he could for his friend, without using any violence, was contented to goe along with him, but the Officers would not give way unto it, and he himself on maturer deliberation did believe, that being at liberty he should be more ready to assist his friend in his necessities, and to draw him out of the calamity into which he was fallen. He knew not whether it was Nays that caused him to be arrested. or Emilia, and he could not believe that either of them could be so cruell to him. In the mean time Francion was with the Serjeants, who made it their first work to seize upon all his money. He intreated them not to disgrace him, nor take hold of him as they lead him, which they would hardly condescend unto, for they were afrald that he being nimble of body would make an escape, although they had on every side incompassed him. They were a great way from any prison, therefore fearing that in so long a way he might possibly find some friends to rescue him, they brought him into the house of one of the Officers, who was commanded to have a special eye over him. They put all his money upon the Table, and having looked upon the Quadruples, they said, that most assuredly they were counterfeit, and that he was one of those who were the Coyners of false money. The ludge, having looked upon them, and made trial of them, said, they were stark naught, neverthelesse, [Page 16]for his further satisfaction, it was necessary to send for the Goldsmith to make tryal of them. When he came, he said, he needed not to try them upon the Touchstone, for they were of so base an alloy, that they were worth nothing at all. Howsoever, to observe the equal form of the proceedings in that nature, they inforced him to put practice the proofs of his art, whereupon he did cut one of the Quadruples in two pieces, and found it to be but slightly covered with gold on the outside, and to be brasse, and some other sophisticated metal within. Francion was glad that he was accused of a thing, of which he was most intirely innocent, for at the first he feared that it was Emilia who had caused him to be arrested, pretending that he had promised marriage to her, and that he had frequented her Company; for although the affair had not so far advanced it self as it might have been, yet she might have given a sinister interpretation of it to the Magistrates, and so far to have prevailed upon their compassion, as to have caused him to be taken Prisoner. But no mention of that was made at all, and because he was only charged with the false pieces which were found in his hands, he told the Judge, there needed not so great an examination about it, nor so many witnesses, that if he had but steadfastly looked upon them himself, he should have judged that they had not been worth any thing; he alleged they were none of his, and he knew not by what means they came into his Pocket, if some cheator or other had not cunningly put them in. O what an excuse is this, said the Serjeants, when was it seen that ever one man did steal his money into the Pockets of another? And why not so? replyed Francion, you see that all my money is not false, and that there is some of a good alloy. And so it may be, said one of the company, the good serveth to make the bad to passe, and it is likely you have received the good money in exchange of the bad, from some Merchant whom you have deceived.
Hereupon his false accuser did advance himself, and standing up, he said unto the Judge, You are to understand, that this man having coyned a great number of false pieces, did distribute them to many, to whom he was ingaged, who bought many commodities with them up and down the City. One informed me of it, who is an associate of some persons who do lend forth money, and did put even those false pieces into the Bank, to make their deceitfull merchandise the more current. Francion hereupon did take the word out of his mouth, and told him that he was a Knave, and an Impostor, and that he could not prove one word of what he spake; but his accuser replyed to him, that when time should serve he would show the truth of his accusation. This is not the first time said he, that this man hath made it his trade to deceive all others; I shall declare unto you one of his deceipts, and one of the greatest ones in the world; It is not long since he was in the City of Genoa, where he acted the part both of a Gentleman, and a Merchant, and took upon him also diverse other Trades. Being there, he pretended that he had received great sums of money from diverse persons who were indebted to him, and he borrowed from several Merchants above twenty pair of scales, and from all those weights which were to weigh Pistols, he clipped away a certain quantity; He then having gathered together many good Pistols, did clip them according to the proportion of the weights which he had clipped. He kept the scales but a little time with him, but returned them, that the Merchants might entertain no suspition of him. Not long afterwards he did goe to the same Merchants, and with the clipped Pistols did buy of them a great quantity of stuff; The Pistols being weighed were found equal to the weight in the scales, which weight he before had clipped. The Merchants believing the Pistols to be good weight, were well contented, and he departed to sell his stuffs elsewhere, having gained all the Gold which he had clipped off the Pistols, whereby [Page 17]he had made great profit, selling some part of it, and keeping the other to mingle it with his bad alloy, when he coyned false pieces, such as were these which he had about him when he was apprehended, Some of the Merchants having afterwards good Pistols to weigh, were amazed to see them much heavier than the weights of their ordinary scales, and as they compared them with other weights, they perceived that the light weights were the same which came from that man. They communicated what had befallen them one unto another, and all of them remembring that their scales passed through the hands of this man, they perceived the cheat, and were resolved to cause him to be punished, if they could apprehend him. They could never since hear of him, for he doth nothing else but run from place to place, and change his name and habit; but now, since we have him in custody, and I do perfectly remember that it is the same man, for I do call to mind that I have seen him in many other places, I doubt not but they will joyn with us in prosecuting the Law against him. Consider with your selves if there was ever a greater cheat, and if the French men be not more subtle than we can imagin. I know many other prancks that he hath played, which in due time and place I will discover to you.
Francion was much astonished at the impudence of this man, who did impute unto him things which he never thought of. He exclaimed against him, and protested that he was never at Genoa in his life, and that he would prove his life quite contrary to that which he alleged. He said, he was a Gentleman of honourable parentage, and that he lived always in the Court of France near unto Princes and the greatest Signiors, that there was not a French man in Rome but knew him, and could testifie the great esteem in which he always lived. It is probable, said his Accuser, that the French men who are now in Rome will take his part, whether it be to preserve the honour of their Nation, or that a great part of them have received much profit by him. It is sufficiently known, that there are many young Gentlemen of great Families, who receive not so much money from their own Countries as they desire. insomuch that they are inforced to have recourse to this Impostor, and to make him their last refuge, who lends them counterfeit moneys, hoping that one day when they are teturned into their own Country they will pay him back good for it, with interest, for he is not afraid to add usury to the number of his other vices. Not long ago he seemed to take pleasure to express-himself very liberally to those whom he perceived to be in want. He invited one night unto Supper all the brave Blades of this City, who had ruined themselves and their Estates upon the Courtisans; He entertained them with a magnificent Feast, in which was such variety, that no lesse than six Courses one after the other were served in upon the Table. In the first Course were meats to prepare, as well so ful of all manner of variety, that it seemed to surfeit as much the eye as the appetite. In the third Course were Tarts, Custards, and Florentines. In the fourth, all manner of raw fruits. In the fifth, Confects & Suckets. But for the sixth, it was extraordinary and wonderfull. He would be the Steward himself, and did set a great Basin full of Money on the Table; They believed at first that the Basin was only full of water to wash their hands, but they perceived it to be full of pieces of Gold, and looked one on another with admiration. He desired every one of the Company to take as much thereof as he pleased. It is said, my young Gallants were so modest, that he was fain to intreat them again; at the last every one took a handfull of the Gold. He desired them, that they would be pleased to fall to it again, and to empty the Basin; but he could not perswade them to it; for they were ashamed to show themselves so insatiable, to a Man that was so prodigal. I have heard it spoken indeed, that these Gentlemen desired, every one of them, to borrow money of [Page 18]him, and he being uncertain what answer to give them, did at last resolve upon this gallantry; When the Table-cloath was taken off, every one of them did put his Mony upon the Table, and counting it there, they did all promise to pay it back to him again, with Interest. He desired them not to take care for that, and assured them, that he desired no other profit of his money; but only the contentment to be stiled their Friend. It sufficed him, he said, if at any time without Interest they would return the Money again; for he knew well enough that he must stay long for it; and besides he was in great danger to lose it all, and it was to no purpose to demand Bonds of such young gallants, who had such Parents, that they would never be induced to pay for their Childrens Debauchment. In this he acted the part of a magnificent Signior, and I know not if that great Pretender Bragad in, who hath been so famous in Venice, did ever perform so noble an act, although he vaunteth that he hath found the Philosophers stone, and can produce out of other metals so much Gold as he pleaseth, by his Powder of Perfection. This Man also who stands there, would perswade us to a belief, that to authorise his Prodigality he is the Master of the same Secret; but let him make it if he can, he may be sure he shall have my good word no more than Bragadin had, who being condemned for a Sorcerer, and an Impostor, was put to death in Germany, and, for ought that I know, this Man doth deserve the same punishment. We are moreover to consider, that the French who are in this City ought not to be accepted as Witnesses in the behalf of this Offender; for the greatest part of them are obliged to him, and have received from him remarkable courtesies. There are many things worthy your observation in that which I have spoken: for first of all, to lend, and give away so much money to such a multitude of Men, and to live at so high a rate as he doth, (which may suffice a Princes Court) doth prove, that of Necessity he must drive some unlawfull Trade, which gives him the means still to hold out, and to supply himself with so vast a bank of monies. You ought also to consider his Cheats, and how he doth impose sometimes on one, and sometimes on another, and the great disgrace and losse he brings to Italy, by making current those pieces, which are either not weight, or alltogether counterfeit. We may do well to look out some Novice lately come from France, who is not yet guilty of his Liberality, who freely may inform us, if ever he heard of him in France, and if he be not a Counterfeit himself, and one who ought not to abuse the name of a Gentleman, and we shall then perceive that it is an easie matter to be Liberal by false Merchandise. We ought also to apprehend some of his Servants, and strictly to examine them, that we may be better informed in the secret of their Masters affairs.
The Iudge, who heard all this, commanded the Accuser to be silent, and taking him aside, told him, That he had done very ill so manifestly to discover these proceedings of Iustice. He did well to enjoyn him silence, for he laboured with such a flux of words, that he did speak all that which he did know, and all that which he did not know; and he could hardly be restrained, but would still have accumulated more calumniations on him, which were all farr from the truth; for he imputed to Francion alone whatsoever he had heard spoken before of all the Mountebanks and Impostors that were ever seen in Italy. Francion, who found that this Information had not the least apparence, and observed the affected passion in which his Accuser did expresse himself, and the strange postures and ill-favoured faces which he made, could hardly, in the despight, and midst of his Misfortune, forbear from laughter. The Magistrate that was then present, and was a Man of some understanding, did give no great respect unto that Informer, but commanded him the second time to hold his peace, and it being much about the time of Dinner, he said he would have this businesse examined again at some other time, and so dismissed the Company. The charge of Francions person was committed to one who kept him [Page 19]Prisoner in his own house, untill his Processe could be better drawn up; for he told his Accuser, that he must put his Bill into a better form, and not make such deviations in it, nor allege such things against him which he could not prove. After that, he provided a Chamber for Francion, and brought him wherewith to eat. As for Francion himself, he was wonderfully amazed, that he was fallen into this Misfortune. Sometimes he believed that he was taken for some other who was called by his Name, or did resemble him in Countenance, and had been guilty of such Impostures; but the counterfeit pieces which were put into his Pocket did check that supposition, and assured him, that it could not be any such mistake, but a design contrived on purpose unjustly to accuse him to take away his Life. Neverthelesse he trusted in his Innocence, which he knew would be then undisputably apparent, when his Cause should be more maturely examined. He had also an assured confidence of the Assistance of all of his own Nation that were then at Rome, by whom he was wonderfully beloved and respected.
He was not deceived in that belief, for as soon as Raymond had made it known that Francion was a Prisoner, they all assembled themselves to understand the reason of it, and to procure his deliverance if it were possible. The Lackyes of Raymond had followed the Serjeants, and took notice of the House into which Francion was carried. As for his own Lackyes, they had a design to play the Waggs, and had left him in the Perfumers shop. It was some content unto them to know in what place he was; Neverthelesse, they placed Spies up and down that Street, to give notice, if peradventure he should be conveyed to some other place. They did sufficiently understand the cause of his Imprisonmen, but alleged, it was not ground enough to cause him to be apprehended; All his Friends did joyntly indeavour themselves to sollicit all the Great Ones whom they knew, for his inlargement, by demonstrating unto them, that he was of an unblamed Conversation, and one who abhorred to commit any fraudulent act; but on the contrary, that he was indued with so much Merit, that all persons of Honour and Virtue were obliged to defend him. There were many Signiors of Italy who promised to use all the Authority of their Friends, and their own power, for his liberty. Neverthelesse it would not be permitted that at present he should have his liberty entirely; for they alleged, he must first justifie himself, and that he might be well content to continue in that House, in which he could receive no infamy, since it was no ordinary prison for guilty persons. This was all they could doe, and those who were of his ordinary acquaintance, did addresse themselves to Raymond to take counsell what expedients on the next day they should put in practice for his liberty. They found with Raymond, Audebert and Du Buisson, and two or three more, Hortensius was also there, who was struck into a deep despair at the misfortune of his dear Francion. He said, that the modern Policy was not well stated, to suffer so much counterfeit and clipped money to passe, and not examine from whence it came, for when any one was abused with it, instead of carrying it to the changers established by the Prince, he did attempt to make it current, and did abuse his neighbour with it, as he had been abused himself. He said, there was no conscience in it, and it was the cause that the Coyners of false money, and Clippers of Pistols, found always one or other to whom to deliver their counterfeit pieces, who did distribute them afterwards unto others. That the moneys for which Francion was apprehended, came from some bad place, and was given him in payment, when he could not well discover what they were. Raymond told him, he must not think so, for Francion could not be so overseen in taking of money, but those false pieces were cunningly conveyed into his Pocket, as he was coming from Church, which he could make apparent to all the world. Every one was amazed at this villany, and the Pedant Hortensius began to make invectives against the Impostors of this age, in which his discourse [Page 15]was so extravagant, that they could not refrain from laughter, and wished that Francion were present, to divert him from his melancholy. This gave an occasion to some to exercise their fancies on the subject which did present it self, although they were much afflicted for the captivity of their Friend. Hortensius said, That those who were Clippers of Money, were a generation of devout people, for they did go in Procession round about the Cross. This was but a common fancy, and worthy of the Spirit of such a Man, who on every occasion would assist himself with that which he had heard from others. But Audebert taking the word from him, said unto him. You speak something my brave Doctor, but that is not all, It is rather that they doe follow the fashion of the world at this day, by undervaluing good Letters, of which you justly do complain, and tax the Ignorance of this Age; for you shall seldom now meet with any pieces of silver, but the Letters are almost quite clipped away: for the truth whereof, I do refer my self to our Kardecues of France.
Every one commended Audebert, in which he made apparent the clearnesse of his Spirit, and Raymond, desirous to expresse himself on the same Subject, did say, That Francion was not like unto a certain Man of his Country, who being accused for coyning of false money, was found so guilty, that no man would take his part, except one Gentleman, who being of a nimble apprehension, assured those who were present, that it was unjust to condemn that Man for coyning false money, Because, said he, he hath done no more than what he ought to do. The reason being demanded, he made answer, That the condemned Man did owe money to all the world, and that he could not but do well to pay his Creditors, because in that he did no more than he ought. This Conceit pleased well, but Hortensius would comment on it, to have it the better understood; affirming, that the mony which that Man owed was not counterfeit money, but good; so that he did not that which he ought to have done, & did not pay well his Creditors; Nay, said Hortensius, suppose that to pay his Debts he had coyned good Kardecues, as good as such as come out of the Mint at Paris, yet he was worthy of reproof, it being not permitted to any to coyn money, but for the Prince only, and by his Authority; for the coyning of Money is a right of Soveraignty which belongeth not unto the Subject. Hereupon he cited the Lawes and the Customs, and some fragments of antient Authors, to add more reputation to his words; But it was told him, he began to be too serious, when what they spoke was only but in mirth: neverthelesse they commended his observation, being unwilling to discontent him. Hereupon he fell again upon the abuse which was committed, in coyning of counterfeit money, with so much choler, that Audebert, perceiving his passion, told him, That if ever he should, as he hoped, be King of Polonia, he would publish a Declaration throughout his Kingdom, against that abuse. Mock not, said Hortensius, undoubtedly I will, if God shall give me the grace to arrive unto that Dignity, I will make an Ordinance, that those who shall be evidently convinced to have altered, or falsified the current money of my Kingdom, shall be not only plunged into a Cauldron of burning Oyl, as in some Countries that punishment hath been inflicted, but I will find out another Invention, which shall testifie my Knowledge, and my Reading, I will have melted Gold powred into the mouthes of those false Coyners, as the Parthians served Marcus Crassus, as I have read in the History, or Epitomy of Lucius Florus, and in my Historical Dictionary, printed at Lions, and also in many other Authors, and then would I say, Glut thy self with that which thou hast so much loved; so spake Thomiris, the Queen of the Scithians, to Cyrus, causing his head to swim, and sink in humane blood. A most learned punishment, I promise you, said Audebert! Then what will you say to Crassus, who was not accused of counterfeiting mony, but it may suffice that he was extremely avaricious; [Page 21]but what punishment will you ordain for those who falsely do accuse the Innocent as our Friend. Fancion hath been accused, I will ordain them the same punishment, said Hortensius, for they are worthy to suffer the same torment, which they would procure unto others. That is well thought upon, said Audebert, and I would to God that the same punishment might overtake these false Accusers.
The Discourse had continued longer, but the immediate danger of their Friend did draw their thoughts into another, and a more serious consideration; When behold Dorini did arrive, to be more fully informed of the Newes which he heard in the City, which was, That a French Gentleman was apprehended as a great Malefactor, not imagining that it had been Francion, although he had heard him named. He professed, that in the Morning he was angry with him, by reason of the Inconstancy of his Loves, and the amorous deceit whereby he thought to have circumvented his Kinswoman Nays; but now, he said, he pityed his Misfortune, and would imploy himself and all his Friends, to release him from his Captivity; and because it was now Supper time, the rest of the Company returned to their Lodgings, Audebert only and Hortensius did remain with Raymond. As for Dorini, he repaired to Nays, and related to her the Misfortune into which Francion was fallen, for which she seemed not to expresse the least sign of Remorse; but on the contrary did affirm, that it was some satisfaction to her, and that no doubt but it was a just, and a manifest punishment from Heaven; for although he had not falsifyed any moneys, yet he had falsifyed his affections, and corrupted his Love, which is the sweetest bond in the society of Mankind. Her Cosin at that time would speak no more, because he perceived her anger did still grow upon her; he had spoken with her not long before, and related to her what he had heard word for word from Francions own mouth, but it was altogether unprofitable.
In the mean time as Raymond was at Supper with Audebert and Hortensius, the Officers came unto his Lodging, having a Commission to examine the Trunks and Coffers of Francion, to see if there were any more false money to be found, or any tools to coyn it with, that they might serve as so many proofs against him. They had also a design to examine his Servants whether they did assist him or not; and as they made a great noise at the door, being many of them in number, Raymond began to stand upon his guard, and suspected the affair. Their number served only to be the more prejudicial to them, and to make their design the more known, and the more difficult to accomplish Raymond did swear that he would hinder them from coming in, as much as lay in his Power, and immediatly he barricadoed the Chamber Door against them, for they were become Masters of the Lower Door already. The reason why had they not taken the full possession of the whole House, was, because they were possessed with so nice a fear, that they could not agree amongst themselves who should be the first man that should force his entrance. It was a pleasant spectacle to behold, that although on other occasions they would not give the least honour to one another, yet now they stood upon the Ceremonies of their Age, and Qualities, and on the order of their places. At the last, perceiving that the Door would not be opened, they were advertised that there was a back Door in a little lane behind the House: Thither they did run with all the speed they could, and those who were most hindmost thrusting on those who were before, they inforced them to enter whether they would or not. They found two of Francions Lackies, whom immediatly they seized on, and carried to the Judge. Raymond, who thought not to be surprized by them, did now fear that they would apprehend him also, as one who did drive the same Trade with Francion, because he lodged in the same House with him; he therefore retired himself into an inward Chamber with Audebert and Hortensius, [Page 22]the better to secure himself, and the Pedant Hortensius never left swearing, Vertue of Iove, O that I had now the strength of Hercules to incounter with this Kennel of hounds, I would cut off all their heads at once, had they as many heads as Hydra; He made many more such exclamations, which would have made them all to laugh, had not some more serious thoughts possessed their spirits.
In the mean time the Serjeants being entred into Francion's Chamber, which the Master of the house was constrained to open unto them, did make there a horrible havock, turning upside down all the moveables, and searching the very Matt of the Bed; but finding nothing of importance, they took only a box, and two portmantles, with all that was in them, and were about to carry them away: Raymond in the mean time observing that they did not look after him, was resolved to go to them, and being a man of a good courage, he demanded of them what they did there, and seeing they were entred into a consultation to take away the Coffers and all, and were putting their debate into execution, he began to resist them, and to tell them that they belonged to himself, and therefore had no commission to search what was within them. One of them replyed to him, that, if he were a wise man, he would not resist the authority of the Judge; yet for all that he continued firm in his resolution, and Audebert also and Hortensius with furious looks came up to his assistance. The Officers, who for the most part of them were addicted to peace and ease, and not to be Warriers, were contented to have done as they were commanded, without fighting with those men, who if they had slashed them soundly with their Swords, they were uncertain how to have relieved themselves, for they were strangers, who might immediatly afterwards fly away, and never be heard of again. Some of them therefore did begin to perswade them with soft words, whiles the other, with all the speed they could, did begin to carry away the Coffers. Raymond having with violence forced those back who did pa [...]ly with him, he advanced towards the others who were carrying away the booty; they, observing his resolution, began to withdraw, and leaving the Coffers behind them, they took their ready way to the stairs head, with so much hast, that they tumbled down upon one another, and when they were at the door, they stood not upon those ceremonies at their going out as they did at their coming in. The Master of the house said to Raymond, that he knew very well that Francion had nothing in his Coffers that might be prejudicial to him, for he had seen them often opened, he needed not therefore to have troubled himself to have detained them. Raymond neverthelesse pursued the Serjeants to the street, and observing them to make hast away, he made fast all the doors, to be in the greater assurance. As he was going into his Chamber, he observed a man to crosse the Court, and to run sometimes on the one side of it, and sometimes on the other, to find his way out. It began to grow dark, neverthelesse he perceived that he was not any of the house, and conceiving him to be one of the Serjeants Yeomen who had lost his way; he took him by the Collar, and did drag him to his own Chamber. The Italian seeing himself surprized, did incessantly intreat him to give him leave to be gone, because he came not thither with the least intent to do any harm. What, replyed Raymond? And is it possible for you, or any other Serjeants in the world, to do any good? Are you not one of that Company who are but now gone? he could not deny it, whereupon Raymond told him that he should pay for all the rest, & as long as Francion was under custody, he should be a prisoner also; he told him, that he should not goe off neither at so cheap a rate, unlesse (for he assured him he should be put to a most cruel death) he would declare the Author of the Plots which were contrived against Francion, and who was the man that did imploy them on that affair. Raymond perceived by his Physiognomy that he had a wicked and a treacherous [Page 23]Soul, and his own Genius did presage unto him, that he might understand by this Man something of the Conspiracy against the life and the honour of Francions. This man was possessed with so great a fear to hear Raymond to speak in this manner to him, that one might read his guilt in his face, for he veryly believed, that if he made not a free confession, Raymond would kill him without Compassion; he told him therefore that he would confesse unto him all that he did know, if he would pardon him his faults, whereupon Raymond commanded him to declare unto him readily what he kept concealed in his heart. The apprehension of death and torment had left such and impression in his sensible parts, that he trembled in every joynt, and was not able to speak: At the last, he desired to have some respite given him, but Raymond would allow him no time at all, whereupon he began to cry for mercy. The Master of the house did well perceive that Raymond had stayed that man, for which he was extremely sorry, for he desired that no violence might be offered to any one in his house; for he was afraid that he himself might have been accused to have taken part with the French, and troubled for it. He therefore besought Raymond that he would dismisse him, but Raymond was in a wonderfull choler, and swore that he would kill him himself, if he might not be suffered to do with him as he would. Hortensius also, who at that time was more than a Fool, did begin to speak for him, but he did thrust him back so rudely, that he thought he should have been hurled up the Mountains towards Polonia, sooner than he desired, so that, poor man, he was constrained to retire himself into his own lodging, not daring to make the least complaint. Not long afterwards he returned into Raymonds Chamber, where was Audebert and diverse servants, who did secure the prisoner; Raymond continued his threatnings to him, and assured him that he should be a dead man before the next morning, if he would not confesse all the circumstances of his guilt, and told him, that before he killed him, he was resolved to wrack him. He first of all demanded of him who he was, he told him that his name was Corsegua, and that he was an antient servant to the house of Valerius a Gentleman of Rome. Raymond suddenly conceived that it was that Valerius of whom Francion sometimes had spoke unto him, who was his great enemy. Observing that this man having confessed this did forbear to speak any more, he commanded him to proceed in his confession, but he besought him to have a little patience till he had reovered his Spirits. Audebert told him that he imployed more time and words making in his supplication, than in making his confession, & that he must answer to what was demanded, & not passe away the time unprofitably; whereupon he said, that he could confesse nothing else, but only that he did assist the Serjeants; who came to search the lodgings of a man accused for coyning false money, and although he was no Serjeant himself, yet he did oftentimes goe with them as an Assistant, and as for that which they had done in that house, they had received Orders for it from the Court of Justice. Raymond told him, that there was more than that in the businesse, for being no Officer of Justice, he had some ill design of his own that brought him along with them. He would not confesse any thing, but said, there were many more besides him who lived altogether on the same employments as he did. By little and little he began to reassume his Spirits, and was resolved to conceal this secret as long as possibly he could; but Raymond, perceiving his obstinacy, caused a fire to be kindled, and an Iron to be put into it, to burn the foales of his Feet. He began also to think upon some other torment to rack him, and did propound them all to the wicked Corsegua, the more to affright him, But, he said, he could not be perswaded that men could be so unmercifull, as so cruelly to use those who were after their own Image, and so like unto themselves, whereupon he took upon him the part of a consciencious and a religious man, and said, It were better to dye, than to wrong a poor neighbour; For his part, his [Page 24]course of life was only honestly to gain his livelihood, in solliciting the causes of poor men, or by executing the commandment of the Judges with the Officers of Iustice; But for all that, Raymond could not be perswaded that he was an innocent Man. Hortensius pronounced aloud, that if he was guilty of the Injury done unto Francion, there were no punishment in the World that could be too grievous for him. It was not enough, he said, to tie him to a dead Body, as Mezentius tyed those who had offended him; nor to put him into the brazen Bull, where Phalaris did put him who made it; nor to cut off his ey-brows, & rubbing them over with honey, to expose him to the heat of the burning Sun, and afterwards to shut him up in a long Tub stuck full of nailes, the sharp points all inwards, and then tumble it down from the top of a steep and a high Mountain, as the Carthaginians served Regulus; for whatsoever the expertest Tyrants in this nature invented, were but pleasures to the torments which he deserved. Then turning unto Raymond, he said unto him, If you please, I will search the Books of Antiquity to find out the most horrible punishments which the most barbarous Nations ever used, that we may at once put them all in practice on that most abhominable person who betrayed Francion. Raymond could not abstain from smiling at his conceit, and told him he needed not so much to trouble himself. Corsegua, observing that they looked merrily round about him, entertained a greater confidence, insomuch, that for all the punishments which they had threatned to inflict upon him, he would not confesse any thing more than what he had spoke before; but now the Iron began to be red with heat, and the Grooms had already pucked off his Shoes, when Audebert said, Before you put the Iron to the plant of his Feet, give me a cord; He took it, and did wind it under his arm-pits, and afterwards made it fast to two cramps of Iron, which were struck into the wall under the window: Afterwards they began with another end of a Cord to bind his Leggs with all the force they had, which although it did put him to great pain, yet he still persisted in his obstinacy. Raymond said, It was, because they did not use him roughly enough; and because he perceived that they were unprovided of Instruments to rack him; Neverthelesse he was resolved to burn his feet. Therupon they pulled off his Stockings, and took the hot Iron from out of the Fire. He then perceived that they were in earnest, & believed he should be a very fool to suffer himself to be tormented for not discovering the truth. He told them then, that if they would forbear to torture him, he would declare unto them whatsoever he did know. Raymond assured him, that what he had as yet confessed was of little or no importance, and that he had contradicted himself in it; and moreover, he was confident that he had other secrets to reveal, and untill he had declared them to him, he neither could, nor would be satisfied. I will then declare unto you all (said Corsegua) and more than you do expect. Begin then, said Audebert, and we will unbind you, that with more ease you may discharge what lyes upon your Conscience. But will you promise then to pardon me, said Corsegua? I swear unto you that I will, said Raymond. I told you before, said Corsegua, that I was a Servant to Valerius, and I told you no untruth in it, Valerius is a Gentleman of a good Family, I many years did wear his Fathers Livery, and I have since been a Servant to his Son, but I never gained any great fortunes by him; for my Master is more in apparence than effect, and his wealth is not so observable, as the antiquity of his Family; neverthelesse I do love him so entirely, that there is nothing in the World which I would not doe for him, except to give away my life, which, to speak the truth, is more dear unto me than all the obligations in the world, as you easily may perceive by me; for if I were content to die for him, you should torment me as you please, rather than I would discover his secrets to you, which now I doe for the preservation of my life. Understand then, that a long time he hath born a deep grudge to the Frenchman that was yesterday apprehended, and that before now he hath [Page 25]endeavoured to procure his death, having betrayed him into a Castle, from whence he thought he should never have come forth. He was much astonished when afterwards he heard he was at Rome, and that he continued to Court Nays, whose good will he had gained. This did fill him with such rage and jealousie, that I am not able to represent it to you. He himself loved Nays for her perfections, and for her riches, which would have conduced much to have repaired the Ruines of his Family, and it could not but be a great grief unto him to lose so good a Fortune. Hereupon he was resolved to destroy Francion, and to take from him at once both his Life and his Honor, by accusing him for coyning of false monyes. We have often seen him in the Churches, and other publick places, and the nimblest, and most experienced Cutpurses in this City have had notice of it, but they could never (untill this morning) convey the money into his Pocket. Immediatly afterwards we acquainted the Mercers, That there was a brave French Gentleman comming up that Street, who by his out-side promised to be an advantagious Customer unto them; As he passed by, they pressed upon him to buy some Silks of them, with much importunity; but at the last, of his own accord, he stayed at the Perfumers shop, where taking the mony out of his Pocket, we immediatly seized upon him, and brought him before a Iudge, who is altogether at my Masters devotion, and will do according to his Direction. There is a Man also bribed for a certain sum of Silver, who hath accused Francion of divers crimes, which he strongly will maintain. To render the affair more criminal and undoubtfull, I came hither this afternoon with a little Coffer under my Cloak, in which were great store of counterfeit pieces; I had a design to have conveyed it into Francions Chamber; You were then gone into the City, and the Servants were sweeping the Chambers, I therefore entred without any difficulty, pretending to ask for a Friend; but I mistook one Chamber for another, and instead of conveying the Coffer into Francions Chamber, I have thrust it into this: I believe you will find it on the further side of the Bed. But it was not enough for my Master to have done this, He hath given me since the Tools also which they use in the Coyning of false mony, which being put into a leathern bagg, I brought along with me when I came with the Officers, who were all in a confusion; My design was to have hid them in some Cabinet neer unto Francions Chamber, and then to have brought thither my Companions, to cause them to seize upon them, as belonging unto him; but I could not find the opportunity so to do: I have therefore hid the Bagg in the Garret, and as I came to advertise the Serjeants of it, who had Commission to make a generall search, I found that they were all gone, and that I was left alone to my own destruction.
When he had spoke this, they searched with a Candle behind the Bed, where they found the little Coffer accordingly as he had said, but they had no key to open it, but by the shaking of it, they found, that within it there was great store of money; at the last they did break it open by force, and they found that they were all false Pieces. As in a deep amazement they were beholding this, Corsegua desired them that they would lend him a little longer their attention, and thus he continued his Discourse; If what I have now revealed to you should arive to my Masters ear, he would be inexorably incensed against me; but he hath no cause to complain of me; for having done what I have, I think I have done enough for him, since I have thrown my self into the greatest dangers; And because I have declared unto you his secrets, there is no reason that I should spare others, (although you have not sollicited me unto it) for I should be sorry that he alone should be accused for an enterprise, when he hath others to be partakers with him. You shall understand therefore, that Nays hath been courted by a Venetian Lord, called Ergastus: He was heretofore wonderfully jealous of my Master, and my Master was as [Page 26]jealous of him, but because they perceived that neither of them were accepted, and that she neglected their service to countenance a stranger, they reconciled themselves to enter into a conspiracy against him, and caused him to be imprisoned in a Castle of one of their friends, and immediatly thereupon one Salviati was hired to counterfeit disobliging Letters in the name of Francion, which were sent unto Nays, to make her believe that he grew weary of her service, and would abandon her for ever, having no mind at all to come to Rome; But Francion not long afterwards came hither, quite contrary to the expectation of Valerius and Ergastus, who began both again to be Suters to Nays, with so much heat and jealousie, that they both returned to their antient enmity; but understanding that Francion was the only man in favour, they did shake hands again, to confer on this affair, and grew great friends, out of a desire to ruine him. They have sworn to imploy all the malice of their art and power against him. I have declared unto you already what was the design of Valerius to destroy Francion, by causing him to be condemned to death, neverthelesse he is quite out of favour with his Mistresse, for she cares not for him. But Ergastus hath proceeded another way, as lately I have learned of Salviati, a corrupted man, whom he employeth in all his affairs; He knew that a Venetian called Lucinda was come hither with her Daughter Emilia, not so much to sollicite her processe (as she would make the world to believe) as to see if her Daughter could meet with a better fortune in Rome than in Venice; He hath heretofore very much frequented the Company of those Ladies, and hath been very amorous of Emilia, with whom, some say, he hath been too familiar, and will not marry her, because she is but poor, neverthelesse he would be glad to hear that she had circumvented some other young Gentleman, not for any great good will he doth bear unto her, but to be well discharged of her; and because he knew that Francion was of so amorous a Complexion, that he might easily be tempted, he perswaded himself, that at the first sight he would fall in love with her, for according to the sharpest judgement of the most discerning eyes, she is believed to be one of the most beautifull young Ladies that ever Nature produced. The businesse and the difficulty of it was to lay the plot so happily, that he might but any where incounter her to represent unto her the passionate desire he had to be acquainted with her; and to arrive thereunto, he did assist himself with a certain Mimick called Bergamin, who pretended to love Francion entirely, but who was far more desirous to oblige Ergastus to him, whom he had known a longer time. He brought Francion into a Church, where he knew Emilia was to be with her; Mother, he pretended not to know them, the better to cover his design; He came out of the Church as if he would attend them, and about an hour afterwards he came to acquaint Francion who they were: Afterward he did make himself known to Salviati, who called himself their Sollicitor, and who promised to bring him to Lucindaes house, that he might behold the fait Emilia, who did possesse him with such vehement desires. Francion had no sooner seen her, but he became desperately inamoured, and did write many Letters to her, all which Salviati did deliver. The businesse was so managed, that one Evening he came unto Emilia, as she was going to Bed, at which time he made a promise of marriage to her. He did prevail more in this than Ergastus hoped for, he only expected that he should so often frequent Lucindaes house, that Nays hearing of it, should be so much incensed thereat, as absolutely for the time to come to renounce him for his perfidiousnesse; but observe now the height of the misfortune of this poor Gentleman, who on all sides was entangled in those nets which his Enemies had laid for him. Salviati is a man secret enough, He never discovered to me one word of it, nor ever would have done, if I had not made known unto him, that I had been imployed by Valerius in the like enterprises, and yet, I dare swear unto [Page 27]you that he had still contained himself, if he had not found this liberty of Speech to discover but this little amongst the Bottles and Tobacco Pipes.
Here Corsegua made a stop, and those who were present were all surprized with wonder, to hear so many malicious and bloody contrivances, which proceeded from the revengefull Spirits of the Italians. They wished that Justice might take such a strict notice of it, that punishment accordingly might be afflicted, and that Francion m ght be re-estated into his liberty, and they promised to themselves suddenly to divulge all the particulars, that the Innocence of Francion might be acknowledged. Raymond said unto Corsegua, that as yet he had no reason to be entirely satisfied, if he would not promise to acknowledge before the Judges, all that which he had confessed before them. He made answer, I shall then by this means be out of all hopes to re-establish my self in the favour of my Master; Is it not enough for you that I have declared all these secrers? No (said Raymond) For although we should allege them, yet no belief would be given to our assertations, unlesse that you do justifie them with us. Therefore if you do not promise by inviolable oaths to confirm what you have spoken, you shall not be exempted from Death; But if you shall perform what, in reason, we shall require, I do promise you on my part, that you shall not stand in need to be afraid of your Master, but that we will very liberally reward you, and will take you into France along with us, if you have of your self a desire unto it, and moreover we will give you that content, that you shall have no cause to complain of the Evil which we have done unto you. Raymond expressed this with such a freedom of Spirit, that Corsegua began to assure himself of the truth of his words, and promised to doe whatsoever he would have him, and did swear unto him all the Oaths that could oblige a heart to the performance of what he promised: But Audebert taking Raymond aside, did represent unto him, that this man was but a knave, and no confi-dence could be reposed in him, and probably, that on the next day, when he should be brought before the Iudges, he would deny whatsoever he had spoken, and would not be sensible at all of the many imprecations he had made; he represented to him, that it was therefore better to force from him some other acknowledgement, and to cause him to wrire it under his own hand, and to sign to whatsoever he had confessed, that they might represent it to the Iudge, to which if they could perswade him, it would be impossible for him to deny it. Raymond did approve the motion, and although Corsegua did allege, that they ought not to mistrust him, yet Pen, Ink, and Paper, were brought unto him, and he did write, that he had caused those false pieces to be conveyed into the Pocket of Francion, by the Instigation of his Master, and moreover, that he had brought into his Chamber a Coffer full of the like pieces, together with the Instruments and tools of false Coyners, maliciously to accuse Francion, and to prove him guilty. Having confessed this under his own hand, they inforced him to sign it, and because he seemed very unwilling to merchandise that businesse, Raymond and Audebert, redoubling their threatnings, did so affright him, that he performed whatsoever they desired. They afterwards searched the upper lofts of the House, where they found that he had convayed all those Instruments, accordingly as he had said, and they did lay them up, to shew them afterwards to the Court of Iustice. The night was then far advanced, and Raymond commanded his prisoner to be shut up in a Chamber, in which were divers of his own Servants, who had him under custody, and caused him to lye there for that night. Raymond afterwards did goe to his bed, and Audebert and Hortensius did the like, but they could take no rest, importunately every one desiring the appearence of the day, to make hast to the deliverance of their friend. The morning being come, Raymond left Audebert with his Servants in the House to guard Corsegua, and he repaired with Hortensius to the place where Francion was. He [Page 28]demanded of his Keeper to speak with him, for he desired to acquaint him with this pleasing News, that he should not grow into too deep a Melancholy, but be in hope after a few Hours to obtain his Liberty. But the rough Keeper replyed, That he should not speak with him, which extremely did perplex him. He had a desire after that to speak unto the Iudge, which was permitted. He declared to him, That he had taken in his own Lodging a Man who was come with the Ministers of Iustice, and confessed to him that he had put the false pieces of money into Francions Pocket, and that all which followed thereupon was only the malicious plot of his Enemy Valerius, to take away his life; and for his better assurance, he shewed him the Confession which Corsegua had signed. The Iudge perceived well enough that they had detained this Man, although he had received no advertisement of it, His Companions imagining that he came forth with them by some way which they did not well observe, so that they made no complaint of his detainment. Neverthelesse the Iudge suspecting that they had forced him to what he had done, and taking part with Valerius, whose life he knew, he did give a great check to Raymond, and told him, that he had made an assault upon Iustice it self, for having detained that Man, and obliged him to write a Deposition, which ought not to be made, but before the Magistrates; and that it seemed to him, that he himself would take upon him the Office of a Magistrate for the execution of Iustice. Raymond made answer, That in that Necessity they got from their Enemy what they could, and if he had not done that, he could not have a perfect assurance of the Innocence of Francion. The Iudge alleged to him, that he had done very ill in it. But he said, I will maintain what I have done; and why should I be compelled to make satisfaction? seeing I have done a Civil office for my Friend, by which his justification is apparent, and undoubted.
The Proof of his Affection was worthy to be admired; but this barbarous Iudge took no notice of it, although at every word Hortensius cryed, Behold an Orestes! Behold a Pylades! Behold the true Paragon of Friendship! Doe something for the love to Virtue. But this inexorable Man commanded that they should release Corsegua, for Raymond confessed that he was still at his Lodgings; He commanded some of the Serjeants to fetch him. Raymond affirmed it did not much trouble him, because he believed he would not deny his own hand. He therefore sent Hortensius to his Lodging, to speak to Audebert that he should deliver that Man unto the Serjeants without resistance. This incontinently was done, & Audebert also came along with thē to the Iudge, the better to understand how the Businesse was managed. They all then said unto the Iudge, If you will not believe what this Man hath testified under his own hand, at least, let us deserve to be believed. Behold three of us present! we are all of us Gentlemen, and we have five or six Grooms, who have heard him all along to confesse the conspiracy which hath been plotted against Francion; Shall we all be found to be Lyars? I will hear you every one by himself, (said the Iudge.) That will import but little (said Corsegua,) for I must confesse, that I have spoken all that which they say, and that I have written all which they do shew unto you; but it is not therefore true, because I have done it. I only did confesse it, to preserve my self from Death, and the Torments which they had prepared for me, and what I have signed with my own hand, was only occasioned by the act of fear.
In this manner this wretched Man endeavoured to deny all that which he had confessed, because he thought himself to be now in a place of assurance; and the French were greatly amazed to see his horrible perfidiousnesse, calling to mind the many Oathes by which he had obliged both his Soul and Body. The Iudge would do nothing contrary to Corsegua, who was his Friend, and had bestowed many Presents on him. He said, he believed they had wonderfully tormented that poor Man, and protested, that those who had done it [Page 29]should be severely punished. Corsegua perceiving that the Iudge adhered to him, did shew him his naked Body, which in many places had been pinched by the cruelty of his Tormentors. He shewed them also the marke of the Cord with which they had bound his Leggs a little above his anckle. On this, all the Italians did thunder against Raymond, and the other of the French Nation, for their unmercifullnesse, and made all the hast they could to shut the Gate of the House, to be assured of his Person. Corsegua did believe that Raymond and Francion were sufficiently able to reward him, if he would have confessed unto the Magistrates what he did know of his Master; but he considered with himself, that peradventure he should never goe with them into France, and that either Valerius, or some of his Kinred, would cause him to be killed by treachery. This he thought on all the Night before, so that he continued in his treacherous resolution. On the other side, the Judge who was present, did take counsel to send for a strong Guard to send the French to Prison, for his own House was not large enough to receive so many Prisoners. He was resolved to commence a Processe against them, as well as Francion, for being his Accomplices, and for having offered Violence to him who assisted the Serjeants. As he was in this Determination, there were some who knocked violently at the Gate, and being admitted, they represented to him, that he must make appearance himself before another Iudge who was Superiour to him. This made him to tremble for fear; for in such Cases the Iudge is never demanded to appear before a Superior, but only for unjust proceedings. Being charged to come himself, and to bring along with him the French Gentleman who was a Prisoner, He immediately did obey the Summons, and Francion came forth, having with him a multitude of People to attend him. This was a pregnant Demonstration of the good Disposition of Dorini, who, although he conceived that Francion was much to be condemned for having abused his Cosin, yet he would not abandon him in his distresse, but did sollicit in the favour of him, being obliged to it by the remembrance of the many merry houres which sometimes they had passed together in their agreeable Debauchments. He had been himself with Lucio, who was the Superior Iudge, and represented to him, that the brave Frenchman was fallen into the hands of Caraffe, who was a Iudge that had a dependance on him, and had an ill Report for many irregular proceedings. Dorini alleged to Lucio, that it was a shame to hear the Impertinences for which Francion was accused, which had not the least apparence of Truth, and that of Necessity there must be much of Malice in his accusation. He told him, that if he had known the Confession of Corsegua, he could better be enabled to lay open the Case unto him, but he was not yet thoroughly advertised of it; for those who had been sent unto his Lodging to acquaint him with it, did not find him within. Neverthelesse, that which he had spoken was sufficient to exasperate Lucio against Caraffe, who long before had received many complaints against him.
When they were all before him, he did forbid Caraffe to meddle any more in the affair of Francion; for he said, that the Cognizance thereof should be reserved to himself. Caraffe made answer, That he did submit unto him in that, and in all other things; neverthelesse he would make it apparent, that in this particular he had done nothing unjustly, and that Francion was apprehended for putting off false Quadrubles to a Merchant, his Pocket being found to be full of them; and that, if his Coffers were examined, which he had caused to be arrested, there would be yet found more of them, and peradventure there might be found with them the Utensils of his Profession; He certified, That he had caused some of his Servants also to be apprehended, who might discover more of their Masters practice, and could certifie whether their Master did ever imploy them in that felonious exercise, or not. For this purpose, he caused the two Lackyes of Francion to be produced, whom the day before [Page 30]before they had apprehended, the one was an Italian, the other born in Piedmont, both of them very young, and without any knowledge of the affairs of their Master, who had not long entertained them in his Service. Lucio did easily perceive it, after he had heard them speak but two or three words, so that he found their testimony to be of no effect. Afterwards he caused the Boxes to be opened, where he found nothing but Linnen, and his wearing cloaths, and in the Portmantle there was nothing at all but Books and Papers, which were produced, to the shame of those who believed they should have found some great store of counterfeit moneys in them; for Corsegua, before hand, at their first entrance into Raymonds Lodgings, had advertised them, with all speed to seize upon a little Coffer which they should find in Francions Chamber, for he intended to have foysted into his Chamber the Coffer full of the counterfeit Pieces, but by misprision he had hid it in the Chamber of Raymond, as by and by we shall make apparent. Lucio was at the same time informed, that not long before Francion had delivered to his Host all the money which he had, to keep for him, so that there was found in his Chamber no money at all, and they who thought to have seized upon it, were very much deceived.
He who brought in the Accusation the day before, did then begin to appear, and did declare some part of that to Lucio, which on the day before he had spoken to the other Iudge, but his Fear did make him now more moderate; But the Magistrate, who was of an admirable apprehension, did plainly discover, that he was not well grounded in his Accusation, and would not vouchsafe him so much patience, as to hear him out, were it not only for the recreation which he gave him; for he took much pleasure to see how he fumbled in his Accusation. At the last, he demanded of him, How long he had known Francion? and what was the life which he did lead? To which he made answer, not only in pursute of the Instructions which he had received, but according to the extravagant Inventions of his own Brain. Lucio afterwards did put Interrogatories to some Deponents concerning the same Accusation; but he found they did nothing agree in their Depositions, & that this Informer had no knowledge at all of the party whom he accused. All the Proof which he could make against him, was, That false moneys were found in his Pocket; But Raymond came up to the Barre, and declared, That he would make it manifest this was one of the most remarkable Conspiracies that was ever contrived in Italy, or peradventure in the World, & that Valerius was the Man who caused Francion to be accused for false monies. He thereupon declared the whole proceedings of the Conspiracy, and withall shewed what Corsegua had confessed under his own hand. He afterwards discovered in what a great perplexity these Conspirators were, because they could not find the false money, nor the Utensils in Francions Lodgings; but, he said, He would now doe them the favour to help them out of that Trouble, and would inform them where they were. Thereupon he gave order, that the Leathern Bagg, and the little Coffer should be brought into the Court; Behold! (said he) What they have hid amongst us, to make the Innocent guilty; but the Invention did not answer the expectation. Corsegua did mistake one place for another, and he himself is fallen into my hands so happily, that I have caused him to confesse all, and to sign his Confession under his own hand. Corsegua thereupon protested, that whatsoever he had spoken, or writ, was only upon Compulsion, and demanded of the Court, that Raymond might be inforced by the payment of some great Fine, to make amends for having constrained him to defame his Master, and for tormenting his own Body. Dorini, having heard all this, was wonderfully amazed, neverthelesse he was glad that the Innocence of Francion should suddenly be acknowledged. He therefore was permitted to speak himself unto the Magistrate, to whom he did demonstrate, that whatsoever [Page 31] Raymond had spoken in the defence of Francion was true, and he himself could justifie that Valerius was always an Enemy unto him, and that having not long before betrayed him into a Castle, he gave a charge to the Captain thereof, who was his Friend, to put Francion to death, but it pleased God to preserve him from that danger.
The Judge desired him that he would be pleased not to perplex himself, for he would impartially do a thorough piece of Iustice upon all, and assured him, that he already did see more clearly into the cause than he conceived. The effect did prove, that he did speak the truth, for he compared those things which he did then hear, with those which were already passed, and from thence he did draw infallible consequences of truth. He himself did open the Bags where the Instruments were, amongst which he found a small Seal [...], and the tooles that made it, by mis-regard huddled in amongst the rest, on which were the Arms of Valerius, so that this was a proof evident enough to demonstrate, that all the other tools, with the Seal, came from his house, and did render Valerius more guilty than was before conceived; For to what use did those tools serve him? Did he make them on purpose to have them carryed into Francion's Chamber? Did he find them made to his hand, as soon as ever he had the design to betray Francion, or could he possibly cause them afterwards to be made in so short a time? Of this last there was but little apparence. It must be therefore, that he had them lying by him many years, and that he had made use of them himself. The affairs of his house having been a long time in an ebbing condition, and he himself having not wherewith to maintain so great a train, did make use of this dangerous profession, in which this wretched Corsegua, and some others as yet undiscovered, did assist him, and Corsegua himself, not six moneths before, had been accused for the same fact before Caraff; but this petty Iudge, who had his Conscience both stained and seared, did save him at that time from the danger of the Law, by excuses as false as was his money, Valerius having filled his Purse with pieces more current than those which he ordinarily vented. The Superiour Iudge, whose name was Lucio, did clearly petceive it; but his discretion would not make it apparent at that present, and he reserved himself to another occasion, to punish the corruptions of Caraff; he had found enough besides for this present Cause to conserve the Integrity of Iustice. The crime of Valerius was evidently verified, and for that of Caraff he had received also information heretofore. There remained nothing to clear the cause which was under present consideration; and as Lucio was intent on the dispatch thereof, he turned to Corsegua, and taking him aside, he said unto him, that he was a wretched fellow to deny a thing which he had confessed before several persons, and which he had also signed with his own hand. He assured him, that if he continued in his perversenesse, he would give sentence against him, and afterwards send him to the Gibbet. Corsegua for all this did think to make use of his accustomed Artifices; but Lucio did so affright him, that he confessed, that whatsoever Raymond had declared, was very true, and that under his own hand he had acknowledged no more of the things in relation unto the conspiracy against Francion, but as in order they were done, and as he knew them to be so. It was most unlikely to allege that Raymond should have suggested them unto him, or had constrained him to write them down, and afterwards to sign them; for how could he ever entertain such Inventions in his thoughts, which did agree so well with the Intentions and the malice of Valerius? This Lucio did consider of before hand, and examined Corsegua on the fact of his Master, and demanded of him, where he found or had those tools with which he coyned the false pieces? to which he made many impertinent answers; but Lucio had already given order that Valerius should be apprehended and carryed to prison, which was suddenly put in execution; and seeing the perversenesse and stubbornesse [Page 32]of Corsegua, he commanded that he should also be carryed thither with the same Man who had accused Francion; The Accuser being taken aside, and examined by himself, did almost presently confesse, that whatsoever he had spoken before, was very false, and did now justifie the truth of what his Companion had, not long before, acknowledged. The Innocence of Francion was then most manifest. The Iudge believed that it would be a piece of injustice to detain him prisoner any longer; wherefore he did aloud pronounce, that he was free to go where he pleased, and that those should be severely punished who unjustly had accused him. But Bergamin and Salviati who were both present, did immediatly addresse themselves unto the Magistrate. They had thrust themselves into the throng, to observe what should become of Francion, for they were accessary to the accusation which was formed against him, and perceiving that he was acquitted, and found innocent, they propounded to themselves that he would not stay long in Rome, but it was likely enough would so obscure himself, that they could not readily be revenged of him. They concluded therefore betwixt themselves, to arrest him at the Sute of Lucinda and Emilia, by which means they should either constrain him to espouse whom he professed to have loved, or at least to have him condemned to pay great damages, and make amends by some vast sums of money to Emilia: Salviati was he who did plead against him, as being most experienced in those affairs; He declared to the Judge, that he opposed the liberty of Francion, who ought to be detained for another crime, for he alleged that he had promised matriage to the Daughter of Lucinda, whom he was accustomed to visit in the night, so that he could not repair her honour but only by marrying of her. Raymond did very well understand this accusation, and besought Lucio that Corsegua might be sent for again, that by him he might better understand the Truth of that affair; Lucio did immediatly send for him, and the Messenger did overtake him, being yet not gone so far as half way unto the Prison. When he was returned, Raymond demanded of him if he did not know Salviati, and if it were not he who was imployed on the affairs of Ergastus, and who had told him of all the design which that Signior had contrived to deceive Francion, by tempting him to love a Lady, with whom he himself had already been familiar, to the end that he might lose the favour of another Lady, whom they both courted? Corsegua did readily acknowledge it, for he would have been sorry, if his Master only & himself had been found guilty in the Treachery. He was of the same disposition as almost all guilty men are, who are glad to have Companions in their wickednesse. Lucio perceived that this Emilia had been a Maid too liberal of her honour, so that a man could not be much obliged to her, when she had agreed but to grant him that, which she had already given to another. Otherwise the complaint of Salviati had not been altogether inconsiderable. As for Francion, he always affirmed that he never promised any thing to Emilia, neither did he boast that he ever had received from her the least favours of Love: And as for the rest, it was no honour for her, nor for any that did belong unto her, if they would make the world to believe, that he had known her too familiarly, when he had so often protested to the contrary.
Francion having thus cleered himself, the pleading of Salviati did passe for an indiscretion, when the Court immediatly afterwards was inforced to give Ear to the complaint of one of the Serjeants who was then present; who seeing that Bergamin and Salviati would arrest Francion for a Trespasse of Love, he would also arrest Raymond on the same Action. He had almost since his first coming into Rome taken notice of him, for a man who had done him a remarkable affront, but until this present he had not the opportunity to revenge himself. At last advancing towards the Iudge, he with joyned hands did beseech him (poynting to Raymond) to doe justice on that Gentleman, whom he did shew [Page 33]unto him, because he had dishonoured his house. The Iudge made answer to him, That he should declare how it was done; whereupon, with a low and trembling voice he proceeded, Sir, I will represent unto you a strange thing: You are to understand, that one Morning departing very early out of my house to sollicit my own affairs, and being inforced to return sooner than I was resolved, because I had forgot one of my Writings, which was a Paper of great importance, I found this Frenchman in my Chamber, making much of my Wife, who was not then quite ready. You know how ill at Rome we doe resent that any one should enter so privately, and familiarly into our Houses, especially into our Wifes, whom we cannot keep with Vigilance enough. I much reproved my Wife for giving permission to that Man to come unto her, and I spake also very angrily unto him; but he excused himself, alleging it was the fashion of his Country, which he could not forget; not considering that we here live otherwise at Rome. For the rest, he came unto me (he said) upon serious businesse, and desired me to acquaint him with the proceedings at Law of a Gentleman, a friend of his, with whom I had some acquaintance. That Excuse made well for him, for I was thoroughly instructed in that affair, and I had some Papers in my Closet which did much concern it. Going therefore to look them out, and the other Paper which I had forgotten, I had no sooner turned my back, but this wicked man followed me, and made fast the Door upon me, and did double-lock it; I cryed, and knocked; but he would not open it: I commanded my Wife to come and dis-ingage me; but she told me, she could not; and, in effect, that Traytor afterwards did take my Wife, to doe with her as he would himself. The Door of my Closet was made of two Boards, which were placed at such a distance, that they were the bredth of two fingers the one from the other, I know not whether it were for good luck, or for ill luck, but I could there see all that they were doing to my prejudice, that afterwards I might have by law some recompence for it: Neverthelesse I evidently perceived my Misfortune through the cleft of the Door: I cryed out against my Wife; but she said, That the Man did force her: I exclamed also against him, and gave him a thousand ill words; but he would return no answer to them at all. I cursed them both with all my heart, and took down from the hook an old Fox which I had in my Closet, and having unsheathed it, I did thrust, and thrusted the blade through the cleft of the Door, threatning to kill that French Traytor, if he would not open the Door unto me; but I could not reach him with it, and I was in such a rage, that so violently I did beat the hilts and the blade against the chair in my Closet, that I thought I had broken it all in pieces. I retired my self a little, and came afterwards again to the Door, against which I did so thunder, that if it had not been strong, and new, I am confident I had laid it on the floor. At the last my Wife came and opened the Door, and I, furious as I was, did run after that treacherous Frenchman to kill him; but he saved himself by flight. I turned my self to my Wife, and said unto her, That if I had known she had been consenting to that which was passed, I would Massacre her immediatly. She did protest unto me, That her Body was as undefiled as her Conscience; and that the Frenchman had vainly exercised his strength against her, which so forcibly she did resist, that he could not accomplish his Desires. And indeed, it did seem to me, to be as she said; but withall, it may be she so extremely laboured to resist him, that she could not feel what he was doing to her. Moreover, she confessed, that this luxurious Frenchman going away, did swear unto her, That what he did was only in mirth, and that he had not locked me up in my Closet, nor offered any familiarities to her, but only to laugh at my jealousie. She, poor woman, was so simple as to believe it; but I could not entertain that Conceit, knowing well enough the wanton Dispositions of the French. Since that time, I could never find so apt an opportunity as [Page 34]this to make my Complaint against him; I demand therefore some reparation for the dishonour sustained, and that the Offender may be corporally punished.
This Man did not Declare unto the Iudge this History with so low a Voice, but there were some others besides the Iudge who did take notice of it; so that the News thereof did passe from one unto another, and every one did know the Misfortune of the Serjeant. All that he had spoken against Raymond was true, but therein he shewed him away to excuse himself; for Raymond persisted in the same Story which the Woman had made unto her Husband, and alleged, That he had not dishonoured the Woman: for all that he did, was but a gallantry to passe away the time, without the least evil Intention. Lucio, who oftentimes had heard of the Wife of this Serjeant, and that she had made him a Cuckold, (although he believed himself to be none) would have this Complaint to passe no further; but told him, That he ought to be satisfied with that which Raymond had declared. But he protested against this Sentence of the Iudge, with great contumaciousnesse, insomuch that the Iudge told him, He was too blame, so passionately to desire, and indeavour to prove that his Wife had dishonoured him, when by her own, and Raymonds Deposition, it was apparent that it was not so. He was therefore constrained to hold his peace, and there were some present, who suspected the Truth of their Depositions, and resolved with themselves to make some Mirth of it to his Reproach. Raymond, although he was of a bold and hardy Spirit, yet he was now ashamed to have his Loves laid open before so grave a Iudge. To take away therefore the remembrance of it, he addressed himself to Francion, and did conferr with him of his own affair; assuring him, that he had managed his businesse with that Discretion and Dexterity, that he had discovered the Conspiracies of his Rivals, and believed, that when Nays should be advertised of it, she would moderate her passion. And afterwards, addressing himself to Dorini, he said unto him, That he might remonstrate unto Nays, that if Lucinda and Emilia had been with her, to make her believe that Francion had failed in his Faith, it was an Enterprise to which they were carried violently, by the artifice and contrivement of Ergastus, which reflected on two considerations; the one, by that means to deliver himself from Emilia; and the other, to hinder Francion from marrying Nays. Dorini made answer, That he heard what Corsegua had confessed, and that he could wish, with all his heart, that his Cosin would entertain an assured belief of it.
Whiles they were in this Conference, there came a Messenger to Lucio, to inform him, that there were two Ladies who attended to speak with him; whereupon, because he had dispatched a great part of his affairs, he did go down into his Hall to entertain them. It was Lucinda and Emilia, who, having understood that Francion was accused for counterfeited monies, they did belive that he had been condemned to die, and thought it dishonourable to entertain any more any thought of him. Bergamin and Salviati were still in the Court, and, for the present, did forget to acquaint them with the News of his Iustification. These two Ladies understood, that Ergastus was at that present in Rome, and did conjecture, that Francion being to be put to Death according to Iustice, this Venetian Signior would be a Suter again to Nays: so that Emilia should lose all her hopes to enjoy him. She desired, that if she failed in one Husband, she might be sure of another, who, in effect, was more obliged to her. The Mother said to Lucio, that she was come to declare unto him, That when they were at Venice, this Signior Ergastus had so passionately desired, and did so much delight himself in the Company of her Daughter, that she had a Child by him, of which she was brought to Bed before her [Page 35]time, neverthelesse he hath since broken all his vowes, and falsified his promise to espouse her, by reason of her poverty, insomuch that she was inforced to wait upon him, to demand justice against the Jmpostor. The Iudge replyed, that it was not necessary for her so openly to reveal the dishonour of her Daughter, and that such a cause ought more gently to be handled; he therefore advised her to send for Ergastus to understand his resolutions. The Ladies did seem both of them to approve it, for the Iudge did appear to be inclined to them; He therefore commanded one of his Servants to goe unto Ergastus lodgings, and to desire him to take the pains to come unto him with all the speed he could. He lodged not far from the Iudges house, so that he came presently unto the Iudge. Lucio repeated to him what the Ladies had declared, and demanded of him, if he could deny it?
He was not so impudent as to contradict the truth, but, after some little pause, he said, that Emilia peradventure had no more reason to remember her antient affections, since she had entertained such new ones, as lately to permit one Francion to have free accesse unto her. Speak you not of that (said Lucio) It is you your self who are the cause of it, and you did it to circumvent the Gentleman, and by that means to remove him from anothers love, where he was coversant with you, and more favoured than your self. Ergastus was much amazed to perceive that the Iudge understood so much of his affairs. He was so circumspect as not to speak too boldly, yet he would perswade the Iudge to believe, that he had never any thing to do with Francion; but the Iudge replyed, that he could presently produce a man to witnesse the contrary, and moreover, Emilia on her behalf could produce so many proofs against him, that if he would not be content to marry her in Love, he should be constrained to it by Iustice. He then alleged, that his true Iudge was at Venice, and that there was the place to which Emilia ought to appeal; But Lucio did demonstrate to him, that those who mere injured might demand Iustice in the place where they were, and that he, being then resident in Rome, as well as Lucinda and Emilia, was to be adjudged by the Magistrates of that City. Ergastus was touched with a remorse of Conscience, and with the new temptations of Emilias beauties. He remembred the many promises which sometimes he had made unto her, & seemed to be sorrowful that he had abandoned her; He therefore said to the Iudge, that he would take some time for the better accommodation of that affair; but the Iudge made answer, that he could allow him no delay, and if he demanded any, he must put in security for the performance of his promise. Hereupon Lucio caused Dorini to be called, who was one of his familiar friends, and told him, how he had imployed himself to make a marriage betwixt Ergastus and Emilia, and gave him a short account of that which happened: Dorini seemed to be much amazed at it, but most of all, that having made himself sure to Emilia, he so passionately should court his Kinswoman Nays; He told Ergastus, that he understood well enough that he did bear a great affection unto Nays, but he ought no longer to entertain any hope that she would consent to marry him, for at that time when she rejected Francion, she accepted not of him, having never any inclination to him. This caused him to accomplish what he had begun, he therefore most faithfully promised that he would marry Emilia, and for the time to come that he would constantly entertain her with all the testimonies of unfeigned affection. Her beauty indeed was so rare, that he might be well contented with it, and although her Mother was poor, and intangled in variety of Sutes in Law, yet she had great hopes to gain her processe. Lucinda was even ravished with joy, to see that she should have him for her Son-in-Law, whom always she had so much desired; As for Francion, and the hopes which she entertained of him, it was only by the Instigation of others, who did perswade her that it would be for the advantage of her Daughter, and [Page 36]because at that time she could hope for nothing from Ergastus.
This Signior then did ingenuously confesse, that a long time he had born an ill will to Francion, and that only to bring his own ends about he did put it into Lucindas head to discover her self to Nays, to the end she might hate him, whom she was about to marry; Moreover he confessed, that if Bergamin was to look out Francion, to make known unto him the complaints of Emilia, it was not without his advice, to make a tryal what he would doe, and if he would change Nays for Emilia. Dorini being assured of this, did beseech Lucio to take the pains to goe unto his Cosin, who also was allyed to her himself, that by resolving her in these uncertainties, he might take away the discontents which she entertained against Francion. He was willing to accompany him, for what would not any man doe for such a Lady? After that Lucinda, Emilia, and Ergastus were departed, and every one of them well satisfied, Lucio considered with himself what he had yet to do with those persons which were brought before him. As for the complaint of the Serjeant against Raymond, he found it was but frivolous; For that of Salviati against Francion it was already answered, and both the Sollicitor Salviati, and Bergamin were departed in a confused shame. As for Corsegua, he was sent back to Prison, and all the Officers of Iustice being dismissed, there remained none but the French Gentlemen, who all thanked Lucio for the great Act of Iustice which he performed, and above all of them Francion, who was he that was most interested in it. Dorini then acquainted him with the happy conjunction betwixt Ergastus and Emilia, of which he was wonderfully glad; and that his joy had a greater cause to inlarge it self, when he understood that Lucio and Dorint were both of them taking the pains to satisfie Nays, and to stop the proceedings of the processe which she had commenced against him. Lucio then smiling, said unto them, that for ordinary persons he caused them to come to his own House, to hear and to determine their Causes and Complaints, but as for his kinswoman Nays, she deserved that he himself should wait upon her. Francion did protest unto him that he did owe him all obligations, and speaking those words, Lucio departed to the House of Nays with Dorini. It was ordered, that Francion should have his Coffers and his moveables carried back to his own lodgings, to which he returned with Raymond, Audebert, and Hortensius, who always were present to assist him. But on the way they beheld a spectacle which did more amaze them, than can possibly be represented.
They heard behind them so great a hooping and hallowing of Men and Boys, and an outcry of Women, that they were inforced to look back, and presently they discovered a young Man, who had nothing but his shirt on his Back, and not so much as shoes on his feet, who was followed by a number of the Kennel-rakers, who made a perpetual shout. He did run with all the speed he could make. They immediatly perceived that it was Du Buisson: It did much afflict them to see him in such an equipage, for they conceived that he had either received some affront, or that he had lost his understanding; and this last conception seemed to be the more probable, because sometimes he would make a flourish with a Cudgel which he had snatched from a Lackey, and sometimes he would lay about him, as if he had a quarter staff in his hands, and ceased not to sing a thousand catches, and idle songs. As he ran by us, he seemed not to take notice of us, only he gave Hortensius a sound box on the ear. Then the shouts began to be doubled, and he did run away as fast as before. Some said he was drunk; Others, that he was a Madman; Some were of opinion that he was distracted with a Calenture, and that the Air of Rome was obnoxious to the greatest part of the French Nation; others affirmed that it was some desperate and wilfull humour in him, and that the best course was to stop him, and to bind him Hand and Feet. But our French Gentlemen would not permit that any violence should be offered to him, and followed [Page 37]him unto the House where Raymond lodged, into which he did fling himself. They were there almost as soon as himself; when he sew them, he counselled them to shift for themselves from that vile Rabble, and to give him leave for some few Hours to take his Rest. They then perceived that he had not lost his Senses; and bringing him into a Chamber where a good Bed was, they advised him to lie down, & some of them opening the Bed-cloaths, he nimbly slipt in betwixt the Sheets. Having taken a little respite, he did speak in this manner to his Friends, Of Necessity in this place I must declare unto you my Follies; I have been oftentimes to see the Courtesans of this City, with whom I took pleasure to commerce, as I have been accustomed to do with those of France. There is one of thē who seemed to have a desire to make a trial of my abilities, her Name is Fiametta, I promised not to come unto her untill this Night, but I could not forbear to go unto her yesterday in the Evening; for although my head was much troubled with the accident which did befall Francion, yet I would not be wanting to my self to give my self all the pleasures that I could privately, I therefore conveyed my self into her House, and did speak unto her Servant, who caused me to enter into a Wardrobe, where she told me I must attend, until a Kinsman of her Mistresses was departed, being unwilling that he should be a witness of her Loves. At the last, the Maid returned, and told me, that he was gone, and that I had nothing to do, but to undresse my self, and to go to bed to Fiametta. I was unwilling to obey her, alleging, that I desired to salute her first; but she in a frolick humor did begin to pull off my cloaths her self, and told me, it would commend the sport, if I should go and surprise her Mistresse. When I was naked to my shirt, she opened the Door of the Wardrobe, and caused me to passe along without a Candle, which willingly I did, thinking it was the ready way to goe into her Chamber; I was no sooner gone out, but immediatly she made fast the Door upon me; I then suspected that she had deceived me. Attempting to go forward, I thought I should have broke my Neck; for I thought the way was plain and even, but I fell down a pair of Stairs, and bruised both my Leggs, and my recourse was unto the Door again of the Wardrobe, where I cried, and knocked with both my fists; but the Maid servant told me, If I would not be civil, and hold my peace, she would send one to me, who would make me quiet. I hoped to prevail upon her by Promises and Intreaties; but I found that to be unprofitable. She continued her threats so much, that I was constrained to be silent. Although that in the time of Day it is warm enough at Rome; yet the Nights, I promise you, are very cold, & very unfriendly, I am sure the last Night was so to me. Upon my life I never knew a colder. I sate upon one of the Stairs, stooping with the fore-part of my Body, and drawing up my lower parts as close as ever I could unto it to keep the cold from them. When the day appeared, I was a long time making my Complaint, without receiving any answer; and I believe that the Maid of the House was commanded forth on purpose, that she might not be obliged to speak unto me. At the last a great Lubber came down the Stairs, having a Sword in one hand, and a Bulls pizzle in the other, and giving me a blow with the pizzle on my shoulder, he commanded me to be gone; I was inforeed to go down the Stairs, being not able to make him understand my Reasons, and without any hope to have my Cloaths restored. I found that at the Bottom of the Stairs there was a hole made to goe out into a little Lane, thorough which he violently did thrust me, and afterwards made it fast against me. I stayed there without Doors sitting on a Stone, being in a deep meditation what to do. But few persons travelled that way, for the Lane had but one passage which was directly thorough it, and those who walked by, were people of a mean Condition. I complained to them, that my cloaths were taken from me. Some of them laughed at me, saying I was served well enough, because I was so stiff, and of so high a humour, as to give a visit to [Page 38]the Roman Ladies. Others pitied me, and told me, they were not able to assist me. Sometimes I would not speak a word at all, and I believe I was taken for a Beggar; for sitting all Night upon the Stairs, which were covered with Dust, my shirt was extremely fowl. At the last, I considered with my self, that I might stay there long enough, if I did not take some other Course; and to be gone in that naked posture, when it was broad Day-light, would appear very strange; I conceived therefore, that it was my best course, by some Messenger to advise my Friends of my Misfortune, and to desire them that some Cloathes might be dispatched to me. I did speak to one Man, but I believe he could not find my Lodging; he made me stay a long time in expectation of him, and I believe he is not yet returned. At the last, I entertained in my Spirit a dangerous and a brisk Conceit, which was, to counterfeit a Mad-man, rather than to stay alwayes there. I generously advanced, and passing thorough the Streets, I did sing a thousand Jiggs and Songs. The Boys in amazement flocked round about me, and I believe had done me much mischief, had not you assisted me. If I have given a box on the ear to Hortensius, it was only to authorize my Folly, and I crave pardon of him with all my heart. Hortensius replyed, That he did pardon him, but advised him to take heed how he adventured again to seek for Forrage in such reproachfull places. Raymond told him, That he received a punishment great enough for turning out of the right way. But my brave Raymond, said Francion, Have not you also had your part? Have not you received some Dishonour, concerning what hath been published of your Loves before the Judge himself? Raymond replyed, If you had but seen the Wife of the Serjeant, you would confesse she was worth that Penalty; and although she is but of a low Condition, yet she is not the lesse amiable. Whatsoever she is (said Francion,) I am very glad to understand that adventure; for you can now reprove me no more for being so secret in my love unto Emilia: I said truly enough, when I affirmed to you, That there are some things, the Secrets whereof we ought to reserve unto our selves. But let us return to the Disaster of Du Buisson; Will no Man goe to demand his Cloathes? Was there any store of money in your Pockets? A great deal, said Du Buisson; but I will give it all to Fiametta, if she will return but my cloaths unto me. She shall be sure to receive both disgrace, and losse, if she will not restore them. Francion did so well comply with him, that he perswaded the Host to go, and sent some Lackyes with him, who so much threatned Fiametta, that she surrendered the Cloathes. In the mean time, the Crew that raised the Coyl, being the Offals of the City, stood still before the Door, in expectation of Du Buissons comming forth; but they caused them all to depart, alleging to them, That he was a poor young Man who had a Feaver on him, and was now much distempered in his Bed.
When the hour was come to goe to Dinner, our French Gentlemen did seat themselves all at the Table, amongst whom was Du Buisson, having taken some Repose. They ceased not merrily to upbraid one another with their adventures. There was only Audebert amongst them, on whom them could not cast the least aspersion; for although he was of a lively and frolick disposition, yet he was very temperate and wise, and delighted more to conferre with the Learned Men of that City, than to seek after the Company, and Acquaintance of the Courtesans. Francion, having considered of the Fortune of all the rest, did experimentally protest, that there was not one amongst them whose Misfortune was so great as his own, and that Valerius and Ergastus having both conspired against him, it was a question which of them both had done him the greatest prejudice. Some affirmed it was Valerius, who accused him for coyning of counterfeited Money, which was a Fact attended with so much Ignominy, that it deserved Death for its punishment. But he himself maintained, that it was Ergastus who did him the greatest Injury, for he caused him to lose the [Page 39]favour of Nays, and the prejudice he received was not so much, when he had betrayd him to the sight and knowledge of Emilia (for he received nothing but pleasure in that Conversation) as when he provoked Emilia to complain to Nays of him. Noe long after Dinner Dorini came unto him, and acquainted him, that Lucio had so great a Care of his affaires, that he had rendred him lesse distastfull to his Cosin, and she permitted that he should give her a visit that afternoon; He immediatly prepared himself to wait upon her, and was more curious in his habit than before, having no care to accommodate himself in a place which was but a prison to him; He was accompanied with those Gentlemen of France: When he came into the room where Nays was, she looked upon him with a more serious and majestical countenance, but he feared nothing, and did speak unto her in this manner. Madam, behold an Innocent falsely accused, who doth addresse himself unto you, to give you the testimonies of his Integrity. She replyed, Be not you so vain, as to professe your self to be altogether exempted from offence, for by that means you will take from me the glory to forgive you. Since Pardon is assured me on your part (said Francion) I may well esteem my self to be faulty. Nay, in some degree you are so, said Nays, for it is true that you have loved Emilia. I have loved her (replyed Francion) as I love some fair fruit upon a Tree, which I only look on, but have no desire either to touch them, or to tast of them; or rather, I have loved her with such a love as we bear unto beautifull flowers, and not more passionately. I do believe, Madam, you have no desire to have me blind, or that I should cease to consider of the workmanships of Nature, I doe find them all beautifull, but the affection which I do bear unto them doth return to you; for there is nothing of beauty in the world, but in some part it resembleth you. Howsoever, if it were a sin, so to live, and so to love, I should willingly change even that humour, to be found within the compasse of any obedience: You may speak what you please (said Nays) but you cannot so easily excuse your self for your false Loves, as for your false moneys. Dorini then taking her aside, did intreat her to forbear the severity of her Rigour, alleging, that Francion was not so much to be blamed as she believed, and if he had given a Visit to Emilia, it was at that time when she herself not looking upon him with a friendly eye, he endeavoured some other way to give a respite to the afflictions of his mind. For the rest, she had already sufficiently understood, that there was nothing which did oblige him to that Lady, who was suddenly to be marryed to Ergastus. On the other side, she considered with her self, that if she should break off with him, having already gone so far, she should be laught at by all the world, and that Francion himself, having many friends, and power enough, might be inforced by his passion to put in practice some dangerous Counsels. She was willing therefore to give him a particular entertainment, and to confirm the acceptation of his service; so that there seemed to be betwixt them a new Contract, and a new Accordance. Dorini was of advice that the marriage was no longer to be delayed, because their Enemies, who were jealous of their happinesse, would be always busying themselves to hinder the accomplishment of their Loves. They sent therefore for a Priest, and were betroathed on that hour, and their marriage on the next morning was to be solemnized. When Francion was returned to his lodging with his friends, he told them, that for the time to come he would be more wise than heretofore, for he believed, that being espoused to Nays, he now should arrive at a safe Port, and should float no more on the Sea of uncertain affections, on which heretofore he troubled his repose, being every hour in danger to be shipwracked. The disgrace which he received for Emilia did then represent it self before his eyes, insomuch that [...]e absolutely resolved with himself to love none but Nays only. He also indeavoured to perswade his friends to retire themselves from a dissolute life, and to be no longer an evil Example unto others.
[Page 40]The Evening passed away in these considerations, and on the next morning every one made himself gallant to assist at the marriage of Francion and Nays. They were glad to understand, that on that day also Ergastus was espoused to Emilia, who although he esteemed her to be most beautifull, and full of merit, yet he had within him a secret repugnance to marry her, when he remembred that Francion had frequented her Company. He propounded to himself, that it may be he had been too familiar with her, and it was not his least grief, that he himself was a procurer of it. This remorse of Conscience was sufficient to punish him, but more gentle it was, or at least not so publick, as was the punishment of Valerius, who being condemned, for having coyned false moneys, was sent on the same day into banishment; Corsegua also, and he who accused Francion, having assisted Valerius in his bad practices, were both condemned to the Galleys. For Bergamin and Salviati, who would have circumvented Francion in another Nature, they had not committed so great a Crime, they were therefore left without any other punishment but their own misery. The others who so rigorously were sentenced, had committed other exorbitances besides their last imposture. There was also hanged on that day a Cutpurse, who at the Gibbet speaking in his own defence, did affirm, that he was none of those who did steall money from others, but on the contrary, that two days before he had put a great deal of money into the Pocket of a Frenchman. He was asked more at large concerning this particular, and it was known, that it was the same man whom Corsegua had hired to make so cunning a conveyance, that his false moneys might be found in the Pocket of Francion; so that his innocence was now fully justified to the contentment of all those who knew him, and more particularly of those who were at the marriage, to whom all the news was related. There was at the marriage no great Company, only the most intimate of the friends, and the nearest kinred of Nays; for it is not the custome there to make any great Assembly, or that the entertainment should be extraordinarily magnificent at the marriage of a Widdow. The principal joy was, of the parties newly marryed. It shall suffice that they contented themselves in the enjoyment of their legitimate pleasures, and that none may seem to participate in their Contentment, we will not be elaborate to expresse it. It is enough to affirm that it was extreme, and that it hath never since been diminished. Francion finding himself obliged to live no more at random, did take upon him from that day, so serious, and so grave a temper, that you might almost say, he was not the same Man; Neverthelesse it is supposed, that although he understood well enough that it is not permitted to doe evil, that good may come thereby, yet he did with some difficulty repent of those many petty extravagancies which in his youth he had committed to chastise the vices of men. As for Raymond and Du Buisson, Whatsoever Remonstrances he could make unto them, they would imploy the remainder of the time they had to stay in Rome, in sollacing themselves with the pleasures of the world, Audebert came first of them all into France, who did put himself into the train of the ordinary Ambassador, being at that time on his return; for having satisfied himself in seeing all the rarities of Italy, he had no desire to reside there any longer. He took not Hortensius with him, for Nays had placed him with a Cardinal, who was one of her Kinsmen, where he lived at his own pleasure, and lost not his hopes of being a King, for the happy condition in which he was did miraculously [Page 41]elevate his courage, insomuch that from day to day, he attended when the Polonians should send another Ambassador to him, and by this means his conversation became always most delightfull. When Francion perceived that at last Raymond and Du Buisson were preparing to return into France, he was willing to accompany them, and with his new Spouse to take a journey with them into his own Country, to visit his friends and kinred. Dorini was one of their number, and their Iourney was most happy and pleasant. Francion was excessively glad to see himself for a few moneths amongst his antient acquaintance, and at that time it was, when he did relate unto diverse of them his unparalleld Adventures.