Kitabı oku: «The Colloquies of Erasmus, Volume I», sayfa 24
Con. These Stories are but meer Dreams.
Innk. Some despair of being able to recover from a Fit of Sickness, unless they be wrapp'd up in a Dominican's Habit: Nay, nor won't be buried but in a Franciscan's Habit.
Con. They that persuade People of those Things, are either Cheats or Fools, and they that believe them are superstitious. God will know a wicked Man as well in a Franciscan's Habit, as in a Soldier's Coat.
Innk. There is not so much Variety in the Feathers of Birds of the Air, as there is in your Habits.
Con. What then, is it not a very good Thing to imitate Nature? But it is a better Thing to out-do it.
Innk. I wish you would out-do it in the Variety of your Beaks too.
Con. But, come on. I will be an Advocate for Variety, if you will give me Leave. Is not a Spaniard dressed after one Fashion, an Italian after another, a Frenchman after another, a German after another, a Greek after another, a Turk after another, and a Sarazen after another?
Innk. Yes.
Con. And then in the same Country, what Variety of Garments is there in Persons of the same Sex, Age and Degree. How different is the Dress of the Venetian from the Florentine, and of both from the Roman, and this only within Italy alone?
Innk. I believe it.
Con. And from hence also came our Variety. Dominic he took his Dress from the honest Ploughmen in that Part of Spain in which he liv'd; and Benedict from the Country-Fellows of that Part of Italy in which he liv'd; and Francis from the Husbandmen of a different Place, and so for the rest.
Innk. So that for aught I find, you are no holier than we, unless you live holier.
Con. Nay, we are worse than you, in that; if we live wickedly, we are a greater Stumbling to the Simple.
Innk. Is there any Hope of us then, who have neither Patron, nor Habit, nor Rule, nor Profession?
Con. Yes, good Man; see that you hold it fast. Ask your Godfathers what you promis'd in Baptism, what Profession you then made. Do you want a human Rule, who have made a Profession of the Gospel Rule? Or do you want a Man for a Patron, who have Jesus Christ for a Patron? Consider what you owe to your Wife, to your Children, to your Family, and you will find you have a greater Load upon you, than if you had professed the Rule of Francis.
Innk. Do you believe that any Inn-Keepers go to Heaven?
Con. Why not?
Innk. There are a great many Things said and done in this House, that are not according to the Gospel.
Con. What are they?
Innk. One fuddles, another talks bawdy, another brawls, and another slanders; and last of all, I can't tell whether they keep themselves honest or not.
Con. You must prevent these Things as much as you can; and if you cannot hinder them, however, do not for Profit's Sake encourage or draw on these Wickednesses.
Innk. Sometimes I don't deal very honestly as to my Wine.
Con. Wherein?
Innk. When I find my Guests grow a little too hot, I put more Water into the Wine.
Con. That's a smaller Fault than selling of Wine made up with unwholsome Ingredients.
Innk. But tell me truly, how many Days have you been in this Journey?
Con. Almost a Month.
Innk. Who takes Care of you all the While?
Con. Are not they taken Care enough of, that have a Wife, and Children, and Parents, and Kindred?
Innk. Oftentimes.
Con. You have but one Wife, we have an hundred; you have but one Father, we have an hundred; you have but one House, we have an hundred; you have but a few Children, we have an innumerable Company; you have but a few Kindred, we have an infinite Number.
Innk. How so?
Con. Because the Kindred of the Spirit extends more largely, than the Kindred of the Flesh: So Christ has promised, and we experience the Truth of what he has promised.
Innk. In Troth, you have been a good Companion for me; let me die if I don't like this Discourse better than to drink with our Parson. Do us the Honour to preach to the People to-morrow, and if ever you happen to come this Way again, know that here's a Lodging for you.
Con. But what if others should come?
Innk. They shall be welcome, if they be but such as you.
Con. I hope they will be better.
Innk. But among so many bad ones, how shall I know which are good?
Con. I'll tell you in a few Words, but in your Ear.
Innk. Tell me.
Con.—–
Innk. I'll remember it, and do it.
THE ABBOT AND LEARNED WOMAN
The ARGUMENT
A certain Abbot paying a Visit to a Lady, finds her reading Greek and Latin Authors. A Dispute arises, whence Pleasantness of Life proceeds: viz. Not from external Enjoyments, but from the Study of Wisdom. An ignorant Abbot will by no Means have his Monks to be learned; nor has he himself so much as a single Book in his Closet. Pious Women in old Times gave their Minds to the Study of the Scriptures; but Monks that hate Learning, and give themselves up to Luxury, Idleness, and Hunting, are provok'd to apply themselves to other Kinds of Studies, more becoming their Profession.
ANTRONIUS, MAGDALIA.
Ant. What Sort of Houshold-Stuff do I see?
Mag. Is it not that which is neat?
Ant. How neat it is, I can't tell, but I'm sure, it is not very becoming, either a Maid or a Matron.
Mag. Why so?
Ant. Because here's Books lying about every where.
Mag. What have you liv'd to this Age, and are both an Abbot and a Courtier, and never saw any Books in a Lady's Apartment?
Ant. Yes, I have seen Books, but they were French; but here I see Greek and Latin ones.
Mag. Why, are there no other Books but French ones that teach Wisdom?
Ant. But it becomes Ladies to have something that is diverting, to pass away their leisure Hours.
Mag. Must none but Ladies be wise, and live pleasantly?
Ant. You very improperly connect being wise, and living pleasantly together: Women have nothing to do with Wisdom; Pleasure is Ladies Business.
Mag. Ought not every one to live well?
Ant. I am of Opinion, they ought so to do.
Mag. Well, can any Body live a pleasant Life, that does not live a good Life.
Ant. Nay, rather, how can any Body live a pleasant Life, that does live a good Life?
Mag. Why then, do you approve of living illy, if it be but pleasantly?
Ant. I am of the Opinion, that they live a good Life, that live a pleasant Life.
Mag. Well, but from whence does that Pleasure proceed? From outward Things, or from the Mind?
Ant. From outward Things.
Mag. O subtle Abbot, but thick-skull'd Philosopher! Pray tell me in what you suppose a pleasant Life to consist?
Ant. Why, in Sleeping, and Feasting, and Liberty of doing what you please, in Wealth, and in Honours.
Mag. But suppose to all these Things God should add Wisdom, should you live pleasantly then?
Ant. What is it that you call by the Name of Wisdom?
Mag. This is Wisdom, to know that a Man is only happy by the Goods of the Mind. That Wealth, Honour, and Descent, neither make a Man happier or better.
Ant. If that be Wisdom, fare it well for me.
Mag. Suppose now that I take more Pleasure in reading a good Author, than you do in Hunting, Drinking, or Gaming; won't you think I live pleasantly?
Ant. I would not live that Sort of Life.
Mag. I don't enquire what you take most Delight in; but what is it that ought to be most delighted in?
Ant. I would not have my Monks mind Books much.
Mag. But my Husband approves very well of it. But what Reason have you, why you would not have your Monks bookish?
Ant. Because I find they are not so obedient; they answer again out of the Decrees and Decretals of Peter and Paul.
Mag. Why then do you command them the contrary to what Peter and Paul did?
Ant. I can't tell what they teach; but I can't endure a Monk that answers again: Nor would I have any of my Monks wiser than I am myself.
Mag. You might prevent that well enough, if you did but lay yourself out, to get as much Wisdom as you can.
Ant. I han't Leisure.
Mag. Why so?
Ant. Because I han't Time.
Mag. What, not at Leisure to be wise?
Ant. No.
Mag. Pray what hinders you?
Ant. Long Prayers, the Affairs of my Houshold, Hunting, looking after my Horses, attending at Court.
Mag. Well, and do you think these Things are better than Wisdom?
Ant. Custom has made it so.
Mag. Well, but now answer me this one Thing: Suppose God should grant you this Power, to be able to turn yourself and your Monks into any Sort of Animal that you had a Mind: Would you turn them into Hogs, and yourself into a Horse?
Ant. No, by no Means.
Mag. By doing so you might prevent any of them from being wiser than yourself?
Ant. It is not much Matter to me what Sort of Animals my Monks are, if I am but a Man myself.
Mag. Well, and do you look upon him to be a Man that neither has Wisdom, nor desires to have it?
Ant. I am wise enough for myself.
Mag. And so are Hogs wise enough for themselves.
Ant. You seem to be a Sophistress, you argue so smartly.
Mag. I won't tell you what you seem to me to be. But why does this Houshold-Stuff displease you?
Ant. Because a Spinning-Wheel is a Woman's Weapon.
Mag. Is it not a Woman's Business to mind the Affairs of her Family, and to instruct her Children?
Ant. Yes, it is.
Mag. And do you think so weighty an Office can be executed without Wisdom?
Ant. I believe not.
Mag. This Wisdom I learn from Books.
Ant. I have threescore and two Monks in my Cloister, and you will not see one Book in my Chamber.
Mag. The Monks are finely look'd after all this While.
Ant. I could dispense with Books; but I can't bear Latin Books.
Mag. Why so?
Ant. Because that Tongue is not fit for a Woman.
Mag. I want to know the Reason.
Ant. Because it contributes nothing towards the Defence of their Chastity.
Mag. Why then do French Books that are stuff'd with the most trifling Novels, contribute to Chastity?
Ant. But there is another Reason.
Mag. Let it be what it will, tell me it plainly.
Ant. They are more secure from the Priests, if they don't understand Latin.
Mag. Nay, there's the least Danger from that Quarter according to your Way of Working; because you take all the Pains you can not to know any Thing of Latin.
Ant. The common People are of my Mind, because it is such a rare unusual Thing for a Woman to understand Latin.
Mag. What do you tell me of the common People for, who are the worst Examples in the World that can be follow'd. What have I to do with Custom, that is the Mistress of all evil Practices? We ought to accustom ourselves to the best Things: And by that Means, that which was uncustomary would become habitual, and that which was unpleasant would become pleasant; and that which seemed unbecoming would look graceful.
Ant. I hear you.
Mag. Is it becoming a German Woman to learn to speak French.
Ant. Yes it is.
Mag. Why is it?
Ant. Because then she will be able to converse with those that speak French.
Mag. And why then is it unbecoming in me to learn Latin, that I may be able daily to have Conversation with so many eloquent, learned and wise Authors, and faithful Counsellors?
Ant. Books destroy Women's Brains, who have little enough of themselves.
Mag. What Quantity of Brains you have left I cannot tell: And as for myself, let me have never so little, I had rather spend them in Study, than in Prayers mumbled over without the Heart going along with them, or sitting whole Nights in quaffing off Bumpers.
Ant. Bookishness makes Folks mad.
Mag. And does not the Rattle of your Pot-Companions, your Banterers, and Drolls, make you mad?
Ant. No, they pass the Time away.
Mag. How can it be then, that such pleasant Companions should make me mad?
Ant. That's the common Saying.
Mag. But I by Experience find quite the contrary. How many more do we see grow mad by hard drinking, unseasonable feasting, and sitting up all Night tippling, which destroys the Constitution and Senses, and has made People mad?
Ant. By my Faith, I would not have a learned Wife.
Mag. But I bless myself, that I have gotten a Husband that is not like yourself. Learning both endears him to me, and me to him.
Ant. Learning costs a great Deal of Pains to get, and after all we must die.
Mag. Notable Sir, pray tell me, suppose you were to die to-Morrow, had you rather die a Fool or a wise Man?
Ant. Why, a wise Man, if I could come at it without taking Pains.
Mag. But there is nothing to be attained in this Life without Pains; and yet, let us get what we will, and what Pains soever we are at to attain it, we must leave it behind us: Why then should we think much to be at some Pains for the most precious Thing of all, the Fruit of which will bear us Company unto another Life.
Ant. I have often heard it said, that a wise Woman is twice a Fool.
Mag. That indeed has been often said; but it was by Fools. A Woman that is truly wise does not think herself so: But on the contrary, one that knows nothing, thinks her self to be wise, and that is being twice a Fool.
Ant. I can't well tell how it is, that as Panniers don't become an Ox, so neither does Learning become a Woman.
Mag. But, I suppose, you can't deny but Panniers will look better upon an Ox, than a Mitre upon an Ass or a Sow. What think you of the Virgin Mary?
Ant. Very highly.
Mag. Was not she bookish?
Ant. Yes; but not as to such Books as these.
Mag. What Books did she read?
Ant. The canonical Hours.
Mag. For the Use of whom?
Ant. Of the Order of Benedictines.
Mag. Indeed? What did Paula and Eustochium do? Did not they converse with the holy Scriptures?
Ant. Ay, but this is a rare Thing now.
Mag. So was a blockheaded Abbot in old Time; but now nothing is more common. In old Times Princes and Emperors were as eminent for Learning as for their Governments: And after all, it is not so great a Rarity as you think it. There are both in Spain and Italy not a few Women, that are able to vye with the Men, and there are the Morites in England, and the Bilibald-duks and Blaureticks in Germany. So that unless you take Care of yourselves it will come to that Pass, that we shall be Divinity-Professors in the Schools, and preach in the Churches, and take Possession of your Mitres.
Ant. God forbid.
Mag. Nay it is your Business to forbid it. For if you hold on as you have begun, even Geese themselves will preach before they'll endure you a Parcel of dumb Teachers. You see the World is turn'd up-Side down, and you must either lay aside your Dress, or perform your Part.
Ant. How came I to fall into this Woman's Company? If you'll come to see me, I'll treat you more pleasantly.
Mag. After what Manner?
Ant. Why, we'll dance, and drink heartily, and hunt and play, and laugh.
Mag. I can hardly forbear laughing now.
THE EPITHALAMIUM OF PETRUS ÆGIDIUS
The ARGUMENT
The Muses and Graces are brought in, as singing the Epithalamium of Peter Ægidius. Alipius spies the nine Muses, and the three Graces coming out of a Grove, which Balbinus can't see: They take their Way to Antwerp, to the Wedding of Ægidius, to whom they wish all joy, that nothing of Difference or Uneasiness may ever arise between 'em. How those Marriages prove that are made, the Graces not favouring 'em. Congratulatory Verses.
ALIPIUS, BALBINUS, MUSÆ.
Al. Good God! What strange glorious Sight do I see here?
Ba. Either you see what is not to be seen, or I can't see that which is to be seen.
Al. Nay, I'll assure you, 'tis a wonderful charming Sight.
Ba. Why do you plague me at this Rate? Tell me, where 'tis you see it.
Al. Upon the left Hand there in the Grove, under the Side of the Hill.
Ba. I see the Hill, but I can see nothing else.
Al. No! don't you see a Company of pretty Maids there?
Ba. What do you mean, to make a Fool of me at this Rate? I can't see a bit of a Maid any where.
Al. Hush, they're just now coming out of the Grove. Oh admirable! How neat they are! How charmingly they look! 'Tis a heavenly Sight.
Ba. What! Are you possess'd?
Al. Oh, I know who they are; they're the nine Muses and the three Graces, I wonder what they're a-doing. I never in all my Life saw 'em more charmingly dress'd, nor in a gayer Humour; they have every one of 'em got Crowns of Laurel upon their Heads, and their Instruments of Musick in their Hands. And how lovingly the Graces go Side by Side! How becomingly they look in their loose Dress, with their Garments flowing and trailing after 'em.
Ba. I never heard any Body talk more like a mad Man in all my Days, than you do.
Al. You never saw a happier Man in all your Life-Time.
Ba. Pray what's the Matter, that you can see and I can't?
Al. Because you have never drank of the Muses Fountain; and no Body can see 'em but they that have.
Ba. I have drank plentifully out of Scotus's Fountain.
Al. But that is not the Fountain of the Muses, but a Lake of Frogs.
Ba. But can't you do something to make me see this Sight, as well as you?
Al. I could if I had a Laurel-Branch here, for Water out of a clear Spring, sprinkled upon one with a Laurel Bough, makes the Eyes capable of such Sights as these.
Ba. Why, see here is a Laurel and a Fountain too.
Al. Is there? That's clever, I vow.
Ba. But prithee, sprinkle me with it.
Al. Now look, do you see now?
Ba. As much as I did before. Sprinkle me again.
Al. Well, now do you see?
Ba. Just as much; sprinkle me plentifully.
Al. I believe you can't but see now.
Ba. Now I can scarce see you.
Al. Ah poor Man, how total a Darkness has seized your Eyes! This Art would open even the Eyes of an old Coachman: But however, don't plague yourself about it, perhaps 'tis better for you not to see it, lest you should come off as ill by seeing the Muses, as Actæon did by seeing Diana: For you'd perhaps be in Danger of being turn'd either into a Hedgehog, or a wild Boar, a Swine, a Camel, a Frog, or a Jackdaw. But however, if you can't see, I'll make you hear 'em, if you don't make a Noise; they are just a-coming this Way. Let's meet 'em. Hail, most welcome Goddesses.
Mu. And you heartily, Lover of the Muses.
Al. What makes you pull me so?
Ba. You an't as good as your Word.
Al. Why don't you hear 'em?
Ba. I hear somewhat, but I don't know what it is.
Al. Well, I'll speak Latin to 'em then. Whither are you going so fine and so brisk? Are you going to Louvain to see the University?
Mu. No, we assure you, we won't go thither.
Al. Why not?
Mu. What Place is for us, where so many Hogs are grunting, Camels and Asses braying, Jackdaws cawing, and Magpies chattering?
Al. But for all that, there are some there that are your Admirers.
Mu. We know that, and therefore we'll go thither a few Years hence. The successive Period of Ages has not yet brought on that Time; for there will be one, that will build us a pleasant House there, or a Temple rather, such a one, as there scarce is a finer or more sacred any where else.
Al. Mayn't a Body know who it will be, that shall do so much Honour to our Country?
Mu. You may know it, that are one of our Priests. There's no doubt, but you have heard the Name of the Buslidians, famous all the World over.
Al. You have mention'd a noble Family truly, born to grace the Palaces of the greatest Princes in the Universe. For who does not revere the great Francis Buslidius, the Bishop of the Church of Bezancon, who has approv'd himself more than a single Nestor, to Philip the Son of Maximilian the Great, the Father of Charles, who will also be a greater Man than his Father?
Mu. O how happy had we been, if the Fates had not envy'd the Earth the Happiness of so great a Man, What a Patron was he to all liberal Studies! How candid a Favourer of Ingenuity! But he has left two brothers, Giles a Man of admirable Judgment and Wisdom, and Jerome.
Al. We know very well that Jerome is singularly well accomplish'd with all Manner of Literature, and adorn'd with every Kind of Virtue.
Mu. But the Destinies won't suffer him to be long-liv'd neither, though no Man in the World better deserves to be immortaliz'd.
Al. How do you know that?
Mu. We had it from Apollo.
Al. How envious are the Destinies, to take from us all desirable Things so hastily!
Mu. We must not talk of that at this Time; but this Jerome, dying with great Applause, will leave his whole Estate for the building of a College at Louvain, in which most learned Men shall profess and teach publickly, and gratis, the three Languages. These Things will bring a great Ornament to Learning, and Glory to Charles himself: Then we'll reside at Louvain, with all our Hearts.
Al. But whither are you going now?
Mu. To Antwerp.
Al. What, the Muses and Graces going to a Fair?
Mu. No, we assure you, we are not going to a Fair; but to a Wedding.
Al. What have Virgins to do at Weddings?
Mu. 'Tis no indecent Thing at all, for Virgins to be at such a Wedding as this is.
Al. Pray what Sort of a Marriage is it?
Mu. A holy, undefiled, and chaste Marriage, such a one as Pallas herself need not be asham'd to be at: Nay, more than that, we believe she will be at it.
Al. Mayn't a Body know the Bride and Bridegroom's Name?
Mu. We believe you must needs know that most courteous and accomplish'd Youth in all Kinds of polite Learning, Peter Ægidius.
Al. You have named an Angel, not a Man.
Mu. The pretty Maid Cornelia, a fit Match for Apollo himself, is going to be married to Ægidius.
Al. Indeed he has been a great Admirer of you, even from his Infancy.
Mu. We are going to sing him an Epithalamium.
Al. What, and will the Graces dance too?
Mu. They will not only dance, but they will also unite those two true Lovers, with the indissoluble Ties of mutual Affection, that no Difference or Jarring shall ever happen between 'em. She shall never hear any Thing from him, but my Life; nor he from her, but my Soul: Nay: and even old Age itself, shall be so far from diminishing that, that it shall increase the Pleasure.
Al. I should admire at it, if those that live so sweetly, could ever be able to grow old.
Mu. You say very right, for it is rather a Maturity, than an old Age.
Al. But I have known a great many, to whom these kind Words have been chang'd into the quite contrary, in less than three Months Time; and instead of pleasant Jests at Table, Dishes and Trenchers have flown about. The Husband, instead of my dear Soul, has been call'd Blockhead, Toss-Pot, Swill-Tub; and the Wife, Sow, Fool, dirty Drab.
Mu. You say very true; but these Marriages were made when the Graces were out of Humour: But in this Marriage, a Sweetness of Temper will always maintain a mutual Affection.
Al. Indeed you speak of such a happy Marriage as is very seldom seen.
Mu. An uncommon Felicity is due to such uncommon Virtues.
Al. But what! Will the Matrimony be without Juno and Venus?
Mu. Indeed Juno won't be there, she's a scolding Goddess, and is but seldom in a good Humour with her own Jove. Nor indeed, that earthly drunken Venus; but another heavenly one, which makes a Union of Minds.
Al. Then the Marriage you speak of, is like to be a barren one.
Mu. No, by no Means, but rather like to be the most happily fruitful.
Al. What, does that heavenly Venus produce any Thing but Souls then?
Mu. Yes, she gives Bodies to the Souls; but such Bodies, as shall be exactly conformable to 'em, just as though you should put a choice Ointment into a curious Box of Pearl.
Al. Where is she then?
Mu. Look, she is coming towards you, a pretty Way off.
Al. Oh! I see her now. O good God, how bright she is! How majestical and beautiful she appears! The t'other Venus compar'd with this, is a homely one.
Mu. Do you see what modest Cupids there are; they are no blind ones, such as that Venus has, that makes Mankind mad? But these are sharp little Rogues, and they don't carry furious Torches, but most gentle Fires; they have no leaden-pointed Darts, to make the belov'd hate the Lover, and torment poor Wretches with the Want of a reciprocal Affection.
Al. In Truth, they're as like their Mother as can be. Oh, that's a blessed House, and dearly belov'd by the Gods! But may not a Body hear the Marriage-Song that you design to present 'em with?
Mu. Nay, we were just a-going to ask you to hear it.
CLIO. Peter hath married fair Cornelia, Propitious Heaven! bless the Wedding-Day.
MELPOMENE. Concord of Turtle-Doves between them be, And of the Jack-daw the Vivacity.
THALIA. From Gracchus may he win the Prize, And for Cornelia's Life, his own despise.
EUTERPE. May she in Love exceed Admetus' Wife, Who laid her own down, for her Husband's Life.
TERPSICHORE. May he love her with stronger Flame, But much more happy Fate, Than Plaucius, who did disdain To out-live his deceas'd Mate.
ERATO. May she love him with no less Flame, But with much better Fate; Than Porcia chaste, her Brutus did, Whom brave Men celebrate.
CALLIOPE. For Constancy, I wish the Bridegroom may Be equal to the famous Nasica.
URANIA. The Bride in Chastity may she Superior to Paterculana be.
POLYHYMNIA. May their Offspring like them be, Their Honour equal their Estate; Always from ranc'rous Envy free, Deserved Glory on them wait.
Al. I should very much envy Peter Ægidius so much Happiness, but that he is a Man of such Candour, that he himself envies no Body.
Mu. It is now high Time for us to prosecute our Journey.
Al. Have you any Service to command me at Louvain?
Mu. That thou wouldst recommend us to all our sincere loving Friends; but especially to our antient Admirers. John Paludus, Jodocus Gaverius, Martin Dorpius, and John Borsalus.
Al. Well, I'll be sure to take Care to do your Message. What shall I say to the rest?
Mu. I'll tell you in your Ear.
Al. Well, 'tis a Matter that won't cost very much; it shall certainly be done out of Hand.
