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A FORM OF ASKING QUESTIONS AT THE FIRST MEETING
The ARGUMENT
This Colloquy teaches Forms of enquiring at the first meeting. Whence come you? What News bring you? How do you do? &c.
GEORGE, LIVINUS.
George. Out of what Hen-Coop or Cave came you?
Liv. Why do you ask me such a Question?
Ge. Because you have been so poorly fed; you are so thin a Body may see thro' you, and as dry as a Kecks. Whence came you from?
Liv. From Montacute College.
Ge. Then sure you are come loaden with Letters for us.
Liv. Not so, but with Lice I am.
Ge. Well then you had Company enough.
Liv. In truth it is not safe for a Traveller now a Days to go without Company.
Ge. I know well enough a Louse is a Scholar's Companion. Well but do you bring any News from Paris?
Liv. Ay, I do, and that in the first Place that I know you won't believe. At Paris a Bete is wise, and an Oak preaches.
Ge. What's that you tell me?
Liv. That which you hear.
Ge. What is it I hear?
Liv. That which I tell you.
Ge. O monstrous! Sure Mushrooms and Stones must be the Hearers where there are such Preachers.
Liv. Well, but it is even so as I tell you, nor do I speak only by hear say, but what I know to be true.
Ge. Sure Men must needs be very wise there where Betes and Oaks are so.
Liv. You are in the right on't.
* * * * *
Of enquiring concerning Health.
Ge. Are you well?
Liv. Look in my Face.
Ge. Why do you not rather bid me cast your Water? Do you take me for a Doctor? I don't ask you if you are in Health, for your Face bespeaks you so to be; but I ask you how you like your own Condition?
Liv. I am very well in my Body, but sick in my Mind.
Ge. He's not well indeed that is sick in that Part.
Liv. This is my Case, I'm well in my Body, but sick in my Pocket.
Ge. Your Mother will easily cure that Distemper. How have you done for this long Time?
Liv. Sometimes better, and sometimes worse, as human Affairs commonly go.
Ge. Are you very well in health? Are your Affairs in a good Condition? Are your Circumstances as you would have them? Have you always had your Health well?
Liv. Very well, I thank God. By God's Goodness I have always had my Health very well. I have always been very well hitherto. I have been in very good, favourable, secure, happy, prosperous, successful, perfect Health, like a Prince, like a Champion, fit for any Thing.
Ge. God send you may always enjoy the same. I am glad to hear it. You give me a Pleasure in saying so. It is very pleasant to me to hear that. I am glad at my Heart to hear this from you. This is no bad News to me. I am exceeding glad to hear you say so. I wish you may be so always. I wish you may enjoy the same Health as long as you live. In congratulating you, I joy myself, Thanks to Heaven for it.
Li. Indeed I am very well if you are so.
Ge. Well, but have you met with no Trouble all this while?
Li. None but the Want of your good Company.
Ge. Well, but how do you do though?
Li. Well enough, finely, bravely, very well as may be, very well indeed, happily, commodiously, no Way amiss. I enjoy rather what Health I wish, than what I deserved, Princely, Herculean, Champion-like.
Ge. I was expecting when you would say Bull-like too.
* * * * *
Of being Ill.
Ge. Are you in good Health?
Li. I wish I were. Not altogether so well as I would be. Indeed I am so, so. Pretty well. I am as well as I can be, since I can't be so well as I would be. As I use to be. So as it pleases God. Truly not very well. Never worse in all my Life. As I am wont to be. I am as they use to be who have to do with the Doctor.
Ge. How do you do?
Li. Not as I would do.
Ge. Why truly not well, ill, very ill, in an unhappy, unprosperous, unfavourable, bad, adverse, unlucky, feeble, dubious, indifferent, State of Health, not at all as I would, a tolerable, such as I would not wish even to my Enemies.
Ge. You tell me a melancholy Story. Heavens forbid it. God forbid. No more of that I pray. I wish what you say were not true. But you must be of good Chear, you must pluck up a good Heart. A good Heart is a good Help in bad Circumstances. You must bear up your Mind with the Hope of better Fortune. What Distemper is it? What Sort of Disease is it? What Distemper is it that afflicts you? What Distemper are you troubled with?
Li. I can't tell, and in that my Condition is the more dangerous.
Ge. That's true, for when the Disease is known, it is half cured. Have you had the Advice of any Doctor?
Li. Ay, of a great many.
Ge. What do they say to your Case?
Li. What the Lawyers of Demiphon (in the Play) said to him. One says one Thing, another he says another, and the third he'll consider of it. But they all agree in this, that I am in a sad Condition.
Ge. How long have you been taken with this Illness? How long have you been ill of this Distemper? How long has this Illness seiz'd you?
Li. About twenty Days more or less, almost a Month. It's now near three Months. It seems an Age to me since I was first taken ill.
Ge. But I think you ought to take care that the Distemper don't grow upon you.
Li. It has grown too much upon me already.
Ge. Is it a Dropsy?
Li. They say it is not.
Ge. Is it a Dissentery?
Li. I think not.
Ge. Is it a Fever?
Li. I believe it is a Kind of Fever; but a new one, as ever and anon new ones spring up that were unknown before.
Ge. There were more old ones than enough before.
Li. Thus it pleases Nature to deal with us, which is a little too severe.
Ge. How often does the Fit come?
Li. How often do you say? Every Day, nay every Hour indeed.
Ge. O wonderful! It is a sad Affliction. How did you get this Distemper? How do you think you came by it?
Li. By Reason of Want.
Ge. Why you don't use to be so superstitious as to starve yourself with Fasting.
Li. It is not Bigotry but Penury.
Ge. What do you mean by Penury?
Li. I mean I could get no Victuals, I believe it came by a Cold. I fancy I got the Distemper by eating rotten Eggs. By drinking too much Water in my Wine. This Crudity in my Stomach came by eating green Apples.
Ge. But consider whether you han't contracted this Distemper by long and late Studying, by hard Drinking, or immoderate use of Venery? Why don't you send for a Doctor?
Li. I am afraid he should do me more Harm than good. I am afraid he should poison me instead of curing me.
Ge. You ought to chuse one that you can confide in.
Li. If I must dye, I had rather dye once for all, than to be tormented with so many Slops.
Ge. Well then, be your own Doctor. If you can't trust to a Doctor, pray God be your Physician. There have been some that have recover'd their Health, by putting on a Dominican or a Franciscan Fryars Cowl.
Li. And perhaps it had been the same Thing, if they had put on a Whore-master's Cloak. These things have no Effect upon those that have no Faith in 'em.
Ge. Why then, believe that you may recover. Some have been cur'd by making Vows to a Saint.
Li. But I have no Dealings with Saints.
Ge. Then pray to Christ that you may have Faith, and that he would be pleased to bestow the Blessing of Health upon you.
Li. I can't tell whether it would be a Blessing or no.
Ge. Why, is it not a Blessing to be freed from a Distemper?
Li. Sometimes it is better to dye. I ask nothing of him, but only that he'd give me what would be best for me.
Ge. Take something to purge you.
Li. I am laxative enough already.
Ge. Take something to make you go to Stool. You must take a Purge.
Li. I ought to take something that is binding rather, for I am too laxative.
* * * * *
OF ENQUIRING OF A PERSON UPON HIS RETURN
The ARGUMENT
Of interrogating a Person returning from a Journey, concerning War, private Affairs, a Disappointment, great Promises, a Wife Lying-in, Dangers, Losses, &c.
George. Have you had a good and prosperous Journey?
Li. Pretty good; but that there is such Robbing every where.
Ge. This is the Effect of War.
Li. It is so, but it is a wicked one.
Ge. Did you come on Foot or on Horse-back?
Li. Part of the Way a Foot, Part in a Coach, Part on Horse-back, and Part by Sea.
Ge. How go Matters in France?
Li. All's in Confusion, there's nothing but War talk'd of. What Mischiefs they may bring upon their Enemies I know not; but this I'm sure of, the French themselves are afflicted with unexpressible Calamities.
Ge. Whence come all these tumultuary Wars?
Li. Whence should they come but from the Ambition of Monarchs?
Ge. But it would be more their Prudence to appease these Storms of human Affairs.
Li. Appease 'em! Ay, so they do, as the South Wind does the Sea. They fancy themselves to be Gods, and that the World was made for their Sakes.
Ge. Nay, rather a Prince was made for the Good of the Commonwealth, and not the Commonwealth for the Sake of the Prince.
Li. Nay, there are Clergymen too, who blow up the Coals, and sound an Alarm to these Tumults.
Ge. I'd have them set in the Front of the Battel.
Li. Ay, ay, but they take Care to keep out of Harm's Way.
Ge. But let us leave these publick Affairs to Providence. How go your own Matters?
Li. Very well, happily, indifferently well, tolerably.
Ge. How goes it with your own Business? As you would have it?
Li. Nay, better than I could have wish'd for, better than I deserve, beyond what I could have hop'd for.
Ge. Are all Things according to your Mind? Is all well? Has every Thing succeeded?
Li. It can't be worse. It is impossible it should be worse than it is.
Ge. What then, han't you got what you sought for? Han't you caught the Game you hunted?
Li. Hunt! Ay, I did hunt indeed, but with very ill Success.
Ge. But is there no Hope then?
Li. Hope enough, but nothing else.
Ge. Did the Bishop give you no Hopes?
Li. Yes, whole Cart Loads, and whole Ship Loads of Hope; but nothing else.
Ge. Has he sent you nothing yet?
Li. He promis'd me largely, but he has never sent me a Farthing.
Ge. Then you must live in Hopes.
Li. Ay, but that won't fill the Belly; they that feed upon Hope may be said to hang, but not to live.
Ge. But however then, you were the lighter for travelling, not having your Pockets loaded.
Li. I confess that, nay, and safer too; for an empty Pocket is the best Defence in the World against Thieves; but for all that, I had rather have the Burthen and the Danger too.
Ge. You was not robb'd of any Thing by the Way, I hope?
Li. Robb'd! What can you rob a Man of that has nothing? There was more Reason for other Folks to be afraid of me, than I of them, having never a Penny in my Pocket. I might sing and be starved all the Way I went. Have you anything more to say?
Ge. Where are you going now?
Li. Strait Home, to see how all do there, whom I han't seen this long Time.
Ge. I wish you may find all well at Home.
Li. I pray God I may. Has any Thing new happen'd at our House since I went away?
Ge. Nothing but only you'll find your Family bigger than it was; for your Catulla has brought you a little Catulus since you have been gone. Your Hen has laid you an Egg.
Li. That's good News, I like your News, and I'll promise to give you a Gospel for it.
Ge. What Gospel? The Gospel according to St. Matthew?
Li. No, but according to Homer. Here take it.
Ge. Keep your Gospel to yourself, I have Stones enough at Home.
Li. Don't slight my Present, it is the Eagle's Stone; It is good for Women with Child; it is good to bring on their Labour.
Ge. Say you so? Then it is a very acceptable Present to me, and I'll endeavour to make you Amends.
Li. The Amends is made already by your kind Acceptance.
Ge. Nay, nothing in the World could come more seasonably, for my Wife's Belly is up to her Mouth almost.
Li. Then I'll make this Bargain with you; that if she has a Boy, you will let me be the Godfather.
Ge. Well I'll promise you that, and that you shall name it too.
Li. I wish it may be for both our Good.
Ge. Nay, for all our Good.
* * * * *
MAURICE, CYPRIAN.
Ma. You are come back fatter than you used to be: You are returned taller.
Cy. But in Truth I had rather it had been wiser, or more learned.
Ma. You had no Beard when you went away; but you have brought a little one back with you. You are grown somewhat oldish since you went away. What makes you look so pale, so lean, so wrinkled?
Cy. As is my Fortune, so is the Habit of my Body.
Ma. Has it been but bad then?
Cy. She never is otherwise to me, but never worse in my Life than now.
Ma. I am sorry for that. I am sorry for your Misfortune. But pray, what is this Mischance?
Cy. I have lost all my Money.
Ma. What in the Sea?
Cy. No, on Shore, before I went abroad.
Ma. Where?
Cy. Upon the English Coast.
Ma. It is well you scap'd with your Life; it is better to lose your Money, than that; the loss of ones good Name, is worse than the Loss of Money.
Cy. My Life and Reputation are safe; but my Money is lost.
Ma. The Loss of Life never can be repair'd; the Loss of Reputation very hardly; but the Loss of Money may easily be made up one Way or another. But how came it about?
Cy. I can't tell, unless it was my Destiny. So it pleas'd God. As the Devil would have it.
Ma. Now you see that Learning and Virtue are the safest Riches; for as they can't be taken from a Man, so neither are they burthensome to him that carries them.
Cy. Indeed you Philosophize very well; but in the mean Time I'm in Perplexity.
* * * * *
CLAUDIUS, BALBUS.
Cl. I am glad to see you well come Home Balbus.
Ba. And I to see you alive Claudius.
Cl. You are welcome Home into your own Country again.
Ba. You should rather congratulate me as a Fugitive from France.
Cl. Why so?
Ba. Because they are all up in Arms there.
Cl. But what have Scholars to do with Arms?
Ba. But there they don't spare even Scholars.
Cl. It is well you're got off safe.
Ba. But I did not get off without Danger neither.
Cl. You are come back quite another Man than you went away.
Ba. How so?
Cl. Why, of a Dutch Man, you are become a French Man.
Ba. Why, was I a Capon when I went away?
Cl. Your Dress shows that you're turn'd from a Dutch Man into a French Man.
Ba. I had rather suffer this Metamorphosis, than be turn'd into a Hen. But as a Cowl does not make a Monk, so neither does a Garment a French Man.
Cl. Have you learn'd to speak French?
Ba. Indifferently well.
Cl. How did you learn it?
Ba. Of Teachers that were no dumb ones I assure you.
Cl. From whom.
Ba. Of little Women, more full of Tongue, than Turtle Doves.
Cl. It is easy to learn to speak in such a School. Do you pronounce the French well?
Ba. Yes, that I do, and I pronounce Latin after the French Mode.
Cl. Then you will never write good Verses.
Ba. Why so?
Cl. Because you'll make false Quantities.
Ba. The Quality is enough for me.
Cl. Is Paris clear of the Plague?
Ba. Not quite, but it is not continual, sometimes it abates, and anon it returns again; sometimes it slackens, and then rages again.
Cl. Is not War itself Plague enough?
Ba. It is so, unless God thought otherwise.
Cl. Sure Bread must be very dear there.
Ba. There is a great Scarcity of it. There is a great Want of every Thing but wicked Soldiers. Good Men are wonderful cheap there.
Cl. What is in the Mind of the French to go to War with the Germans?
Ba. They have a Mind to imitate the Beetle, that won't give Place to the Eagle. Every one thinks himself an Hercules in War.
Cl. I won't detain you any longer, at some other Time we'll divert ourselves more largely, when we can both spare Time. At present I have a little Business that calls me to another Place.
FAMILY DISCOURSE
The ARGUMENT
This Colloquy presents us with the Sayings and Jokes of intimate Acquaintance, and the Repartees and Behaviour of familiar Friends one with another. 1. Of walking abroad, and calling Companions. 2. Of seldom visiting, of asking concerning a Wife, Daughter, Sons. 3. Concerning Leisure, the tingling of the Ear, the Description of a homely Maid. Invitation to a Wedding. 4. Of Studying too hard, &c.
PETER, MIDAS, a Boy, JODOCUS.
Peter, Soho, soho, Boy! does no Body come to the Door?
Mi. I think this Fellow will beat the Door down. Sure he must needs be some intimate Acquaintance or other. O old Friend Peter, what hast brought?
Pe. Myself.
Mi. In Truth then you have brought that which is not much worth.
Pe. But I'm sure I cost my Father a great deal.
Mi. I believe so, more than you can be sold for again.
Pe. But is Jodocus at Home?
Mi. I can't tell, but I'll go see.
Pe. Go in first, and ask him if he pleases to be at Home now.
Mi. Go yourself, and be your own Errand Boy.
Pe. Soho! Jodocus, are you at Home?
Jo. No, I am not.
Pe. Oh! You impudent Fellow I don't I hear you speak?
Jo. Nay, you are more impudent, for I took your Maid's Word for it lately, that you were not at Home, and you won't believe me myself.
Pe. You're in the Right on't, you've serv'd me in my own Kind.
Jo. As I sleep not for every Body, so I am not at Home to every Body, but for Time to come shall always be at Home to you.
Pe. Methinks you live the Life of a Snail.
Jo. Why so?
Pe. Because you keep always at Home and never stir abroad, just like a lame Cobler always in his Stall. You sit at Home till your Breech grows to your Seat.
Jo. At Home I have something to do, but I have no Business abroad, and if I had, the Weather we have had for several Days past, would have kept me from going abroad.
Pe. But now it is fair, and would tempt a Body to walk out; see how charming pleasant it is.
Jo. If you have a Mind to walk I won't be against it.
Pe. In Truth, I think we ought to take the Opportunity of this fine Weather.
Jo. But we ought to get a merry Companion or two, to go along with us.
Pe. So we will; but tell me who you'd have then.
Jo. What if we should get Hugh?
Pe. There is no great Difference between Hugo and Nugo.
Jo. Come on then, I like it mighty well.
Pe. What if we should call Alardus?
Jo. He's no dumb Man I'll assure you, what he wants in Hearing he'll make up in Talking.
Pe. If you will, we'll get Nævius along with us too.
Jo. If we have but him, we shall never want merry Stories. I like the Company mainly, the next Thing is to pitch upon a pleasant Place.
Pe. I'll show you a Place where you shall neither want the Shade of a Grove, nor the pleasant Verdure of Meadows, nor the purling Streams of Fountains, you'll say it is a Place worthy of the Muses themselves.
Jo. You promise nobly.
Pe. You are too intent upon your Books; you sit too close to your Books; you make yourself lean with immoderate Study.
Jo. I had rather grow lean with Study than with Love.
Pe. We don't live to study, but we therefore study that we may live pleasantly.
Jo. Indeed I could live and dye in my Study.
Pe. I approve well enough of studying hard, but not to study myself to Death.
Pe. Has this Walk pleas'd you?
Jo. It has been a charming pleasant one.
* * * * *
2. GILES, LEONARD.
Gi. Where is our Leonard a going?
Le. I was coming to you.
Gi. That you do but seldom.
Le. Why so?
Gi. Because you han't been to see me this twelve Months.
Le. I had rather err on that Hand to be wanted, than to be tiresome.
Gi. I am never tired with the Company of a good Friend: Nay, the oftner you come the more welcome you are.
Le. But by the Way, how goes Matters at your House.
Gi. Why truly not many Things as I would have them.
Le. I don't wonder at that, but is your Wife brought to Bed yet?
Gi. Ay, a great While ago, and had two at a Birth too.
Le. How, two at once!
Gi. 'Tis as I tell you, and more than that she's with Child again.
Le. That's the Way to increase your Family.
Gi. Ay, but I wish Fortune would increase my Money as much as my Wife does my Family.
Le. Have you disposed of your Daughter yet?
Gi. No, not yet.
Le. I would have you consider if it be not hazardous to keep such a great Maid as she at Home, you should look out for a Husband for her.
Gi. There's no Need of that, for she has Sweet-hearts enough already.
Le. But why then don't you single out one for her, him that you like the best of them?
Gi. They are all so good that I can't tell which to chuse: But my Daughter won't hear of marrying.
Le. How say you! If I am not mistaken, she has been marriageable for some Time. She has been fit for a Husband a great While, ripe for Wedlock, ready for a Husband this great While.
Gi. Why not, she is above seventeen, she's above two and twenty, she's in her nineteenth Year, she's above eighteen Years old.
Le. But why is she averse to Marriage?
Gi. She says she has a Mind to be married to Christ.
Le. In Truth he has a great many Brides. But is she married to an evil Genius that lives chastly with a Husband?
Gi. I don't think so.
Le. How came that Whimsey into her Head?
Gi. I can't tell, but there's no persuading her out of it by all that can be said to her.
Le. You should take Care that there be no Tricksters that inveagle or draw her away.
Gi. I know these Kidnappers well enough, and I drive this Kind of Cattel as far from my House as I can.
Le. But what do you intend to do then? Do you intend to let her have her Humour?
Gi. No, I'll prevent it if possible; I'll try every Method to alter her Mind; but if she persists in it, I'll not force her against her Will, lest I should be found to fight against God, or rather to fight against the Monks.
Le. Indeed you speak very religiously; but take Care to try her Constancy throughly, lest she should afterwards repent it, when it is too late.
Gi. I'll do my utmost Endeavours.
Le. What Employment do your Sons follow?
Gi. The eldest has been married this good While, and will be a Father in a little Time; I have sent the youngest away to Paris, for he did nothing but play while he was here.
Le. Why did you send him thither?
Gi. That he might come back a greater Fool than he went.
Le. Don't talk so.
Gi. The middlemost has lately enter'd into holy Orders.
Le. I wish 'em all well.
* * * * *
3. MOPSUS, DROMO.
Mo. How is it? What are you doing Dromo?
Dr. I'm sitting still.
Mo. I see that; but how do Matters go with you?
Dr. As they use to do with unfortunate Persons.
Mo. God forbid that that should be your Case. But what are you doing?
Dr. I am idling, as you see; doing just nothing at all.
Mo. It is better to be idle than doing of nothing; it may be I interrupt you, being employ'd in some Matters of Consequence?
Dr. No, really, entirely at Leisure; I just began to be tir'd of being alone, and was wishing for a merry Companion.
Mo. It may be I hinder, interrupt, disturb you, being about some Business?
Dr. No, you divert me, being tired with being idle.
Mo. Pray pardon me if I have interrupted you unseasonably.
Dr. Nay, you came very seasonably; you are come in the Nick of Time; I was just now wishing for you; I am extreme glad of your Company.
Mo. It may be you are about some serious Business, that I would by no means interrupt or hinder?
Dr. Nay, rather it is according to the old Proverb, Talk of the Devil and he'll appear; for we were just now speaking of you.
Mo. In short, I believe you were, for my Ear tingled mightily as I came along.
Dr. Which Ear was it?
Mo. My left, from which I guess there was no Good said of me.
Dr. Nay, I'll assure you there was nothing but Good said.
Mo. Then the old Proverb is not true. But what good News have you?
Dr. They say you are become a Huntsman.
Mo. Nay, more than that, I have gotten the Game now in my Nets that I have been hunting after.
Dr. What Game is it?
Mo. A pretty Girl, that I am to marry in a Day or two; and I intreat you to honour me with your good Company at my Wedding.
Dr. Pray, who is your Bride?
Mo. Alice, the Daughter of Chremes.
Dr. You are a rare Fellow to chuse a Beauty for one! Can you fancy that Black-a-top, Snub-nos'd, Sparrow-mouth'd, Paunch-belly'd Creature.
Mo. Prithee hold thy Tongue, I marry her to please myself, and not you. Pray, is it not enough that I like her? The less she pleases you, the more she'll please me.
* * * * *
4. SYRUS, GETA.
Sy. I wish you much Happiness.
Ge. And I wish you double what you wish me.
Sy. What are you doing?
Ge. I am talking.
Sy. What! By yourself?
Ge. As you see.
Sy. It may be you are talking to yourself, and then you ought to see to it that you talk to an honest Man.
Ge. Nay, I am conversing with a very facetious Companion.
Sy. With whom?
Ge. With Apuleius.
Sy. That I think you are always doing, but the Muses love Intermission; you study continually.
Ge. I am never tired with Study.
Sy. It may be so, but yet you ought to set Bounds; though Study ought not to be omitted, yet it ought sometimes to be intermitted; Studies are not to be quite thrown aside, yet they ought for a While to be laid aside; there is nothing pleasant that wants Variety; the seldomer Pleasures are made use of the pleasanter they are. You do nothing else but study. You are always studying. You are continually at your Books. You read incessantly. You study Night and Day. You never are but a studying. You are continually at your Study. You are always intent upon your Books. You know no End of, nor set no Bound to Study. You give yourself no Rest from your Studies. You allow yourself no Intermission in, nor ever give over studying.
Ge. Very well! This is like you. You banter me as you use to do. You make a Game of me. You joke upon me. You satyrize me. You treat me with a Sneer. I see how you jeer me well enough. You only jest with me. I am your Laughing-stock. I am laugh'd at by you. You make yourself merry with me. You make a meer Game and Sport of me. Why don't you put me on Asses Ears too? My Books, that are all over dusty and mouldy, shew how hard a Studier I am.
Sy. Let me die if I don't speak my Mind. Let me perish if I don't speak as I think. Let me not live if I dissemble. I speak what I think. I speak the Truth. I speak seriously. I speak from my Heart. I speak nothing but what I think.
* * * * *
Why don't you come to see me?
Ge. What's the Matter you ha'n't come to see me all this While? What's the Matter you visit me so seldom? What has happen'd to you that you never have come at me for so long Time? Why are you so seldom a Visitor? What is the Meaning that you never come near one for so long Time? What has hinder'd you that you have come to see me no oftner? What has prevented you that you have never let me have the Opportunity of seeing you for this long Time?
* * * * *
I could not by Reason of Business.
Sy. I had not Leisure. I would have come, but I could not for my Business. Business would not permit me hitherto to come to see you. These Floods of Business that I have been plung'd in would not permit me to pay my Respects to you. I have been so busy I could not come. I have been harass'd with so many vexatious Matters that I could not get an Opportunity. I have been so taken up with a troublesome Business that I could never have so much Command of myself. You must impute it to my Business, and not to me. It was not for Want of Will, but Opportunity. I could not get Time till now. I have had no Time till now. I never have had any Leisure till this Time. I have been so ill I could not come. I could not come, the Weather has been so bad.
Ge. Indeed I accept of your Excuse, but upon this Condition, that you don't make use of it often. If Sickness has been the Occasion of your Absence, your Excuse is juster than I wish it had been; I'll excuse you upon this Condition, that you make Amends for your Omission by Kindness, if you make up your past Neglect by your future frequent Visits.
Sy. You don't esteem these common Formalities. Our Friendship is more firm than to need to be supported by such vulgar Ceremonies. He visits often enough that loves constantly.
Ge. A Mischief take those Incumbrances that have depriv'd us of your Company. I can't tell what to wish for bad enough to those Affairs that have envy'd us the Company of so good a Friend. A Mischief take that Fever that hath tormented us so long with the Want of you. I wish that Fever may perish, so thou thyself wert but safe.
* * * * *
Of Commanding and Promising.
JAMES, SAPIDUS.
Ja. I pray you take a special Care of this Matter. I earnestly intreat you to take Care of this Affair. If you have any Respect for me, pray manage this Affair diligently. Pray be very careful in this Affair. Pray take a great Deal of Care about this Business for my Sake. If you are indeed the Man I always took you to be, let me see in this Concern what Esteem you have for me.
Sa. Say no more, I'll dispatch this Affair for you, and that very shortly too. I can't indeed warrant you what the Event shall be, but this I promise you, that neither Fidelity nor Industry shall be wanting in me. I will take more Care of it than if it were mine own Affair; tho' indeed that which is my Friend's I account as my own. I will so manage the Affair, that whatever is wanting, Care and Diligence shall not be wanting. Take you no Care about the Matter, I'll do it for you. Do you be easy, I'll take the Management of it upon myself. I am glad to have an Opportunity put into my Hand of shewing you my Respect. I do not promise you in Words, but I will in Reality perform whatsoever is to be expected from a real Friend, and one that heartily wishes you well. I won't bring you into a Fool's Paradise. I'll do that which shall give you Occasion to say you trusted the Affair to a Friend.
* * * * *
Success.
Sa. The Matter succeeded better than I could have expected. Fortune has favour'd both our Wishes. If Fortune had been your Wife she could not have been more observant to you. Your Affair went on bravely with Wind and Tide. Fortune has out-done our very Wishes. You must needs be a Favourite of Fortune, to whom all Things fall out just as you would have them. I have obtain'd more than I could presume to wish for. This Journey has been perform'd from Beginning to End with all the fortunate Circumstances imaginable. The whole Affair has fallen out according to our Wish. This Chance fell out happily for us. I think we have been lucky to Admiration, that what has been so imprudently enterpriz'd, has so happily succeeded.
* * * * *
A giving one Thanks.
Ja. Indeed I thank you, and shall thank you heartily as long as I live for that good Service you have done me. I can scarce give you the Thanks you deserve, and shall never be able to make you Amends. I see how much I am oblig'd to you for your Kindness to me. Indeed I don't wonder at it, for it is no new Thing, and in that I am the more oblig'd to you. My Sapidus I do, and it is my Duty to love you heartily for your Kindness to me. In as much as in this Affair you have not acted the Part of a Courtier, I do, and always shall thank you. I respect you, and thank you, that you made my Affair your Care. You have oblig'd me very much by that Kindness of yours. It is a great Obligation upon me that you have manag'd my Concern with Fidelity. Of all your Kindnesses, which are indeed a great many, you have shew'd me none has oblig'd me more than this. I cannot possibly make you a Return according to your Merit Too much Ceremony between you and I is unnecessary, but that which is in my Power I'll do. I'll be thankful as long as I live. I confess myself highly oblig'd to you for your good Service. For this Kindness I owe you more than I am able to pay. By this good Office you have attach'd me to you so firmly, that I can never be able to disengage myself. You have laid me under so many and great Obligations, that I shall never be able to get out of your Debt. No Slave was ever so engag'd in Duty to his Master as you have engag'd me by this Office. You have by this good Turn brought me more into your Debt than ever I shall be able to pay. I am oblig'd to you upon many Accounts, but upon none more than upon this. Thanks are due for common Kindness, but this is beyond the Power of Thanks to retaliate.
