Kitabı oku: «The Colloquies of Erasmus, Volume I», sayfa 5

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The Answer.

Sa. Forbear these Compliments, the Friendship between you and I is greater than that we should thank one another for any Service done. I have not bestow'd this Kindness upon you, but only made a Return of it to you. I think the Amends is sufficiently made, if my most sedulous Endeavours are acceptable to you. There is no Reason you should thank me for repaying this small Kindness, for those uncommon Kindnesses I have so often receiv'd from you. Indeed I merit no Praise, but should have been the most ungrateful Man in the World if I had been wanting to my Friend. Whatsoever I have, and whatsoever I can do, you may call as much your own as any Thing that you have the best Title to. I look upon it as a Favour that you take my Service kindly. You pay so great an Acknowledgment to me for so small a Kindness, as tho' I did not owe you much greater. He serves himself that serves his Friend. He that serves a Friend does not give away his Service, but puts it out to Interest. If you approve of my Service, pray make frequent Use of it; then I shall think my Service is acceptable, if as often as you have Occasion for it you would not request but command it.

OF RASH VOWS

The ARGUMENT

This Colloquy treats chiefly of three Things, 1. Of the superstitious Pilgrimages of some Persons to Jerusalem, and other holy Places, under Pretence of Devotion. 2. That Vows are not to be made rashly over a Pot of Ale: but that Time, Expence and Pains ought to be employ d otherwise, in such Matters as have a real Tendency to promote trite Piety. 3. Of the Insignificancy and Absurdity of Popish Indulgencies.

ARNOLDUS, CORNELIUS.

ARNOLDUS. O! Cornelius, well met heartily, you have been lost this hundred Years.

Co. What my old Companion Arnoldus, the Man I long'd to see most of any Man in the World! God save you.

Ar. We all gave thee over for lost. But prithee where hast been rambling all this While?

Co. In t'other World.

Ar. Why truly a Body would think so by thy slovenly Dress, lean Carcase, and ghastly Phyz.

Co. Well, but I am just come from Jerusalem, not from the Stygian Shades.

Ar. What Wind blew thee thither?

Co. What Wind blows a great many other Folks thither?

Ar. Why Folly, or else I am mistaken.

Co. However, I am not the only Fool in the World.

Ar. What did you hunt after there?

Co. Why Misery.

Ar. You might have found that nearer Home. But did you meet with any Thing worth seeing there?

Co. Why truly, to speak ingenuously, little or nothing. They shew us some certain Monuments of Antiquity, which I look upon to be most of 'em Counterfeits, and meer Contrivances to bubble the Simple and Credulous. I don't think they know precisely the Place that Jerusalem anciently stood in.

Ar. What did you see then?

Co. A great deal of Barbarity every where.

Ar. But I hope you are come back more holy than you went.

Co. No indeed, rather ten Times worse.

Ar. Well, but then you are richer?

Co. Nay, rather poorer than Job.

Ar. But don't you repent you have taken so long a Journey to so little Purpose?

Co. No, nor I am not asham'd neither, I have so many Companions of my Folly to keep me in Countenance; and as for Repentance, it's too late now.

Ar. What! do you get no Good then by so dangerous a Voyage?

Co. Yes, a great Deal.

Ar. What is it?

Co. Why, I shall live more pleasantly for it for Time to come.

Ar. What, because you'll have the Pleasure of telling old Stories when the Danger is over?

Co. That is something indeed, but that is not all.

Ar. Is there any other Advantage in it besides that?

Co. Yes, there is.

Ar. What is it? Pray tell me.

Co. Why, I can divert myself and Company, as oft as I have a Mind to it, in romancing upon my Adventures over a Pot of Ale, or a good Dinner.

Ar. Why, truly that is something, as you say.

Co. And besides, I shall take as much Pleasure myself when I hear others romancing about Things they never heard nor saw; nay, and that they do with that Assurance, that when they are telling the most ridiculous and impossible Things in Nature, they persuade themselves they are speaking Truth all the While.

Ar. This is a wonderful Pleasure. Well then, you have not lost all your Cost and Labour, as the Saying is.

Co. Nay, I think this is something better still than what they do, who, for the sake of little Advance-money, list themselves for Soldiers in the Army, which is the Nursery of all Impiety.

Ar. But it is an ungentleman-like Thing to take Delight in telling Lies.

Co. But it is a little more like a Gentleman than either to delight others, or be delighted in slandering other Persons, or lavishing away a Man's Time or Substance in Gaming.

Ar. Indeed I must be of your Mind in that.

Co. But then there is another Advantage.

Ar. What is that?

Co. If there shall be any Friend that I love very well, who shall happen to be tainted with this Phrensy, I will advise him to stay at Home; as your Mariners that have been cast away, advise them that are going to Sea, to steer clear of the Place where they miscarried.

Ar. I wish you had been my Moniter in Time.

Co. What Man! Have you been infected with this Disease too?

Ar. Yes, I have been at Rome and Compostella.

Co. Good God! how I am pleas'd that you have been as great a Fool as I! What Pallas put that into your Head?

Ar. No Pallas, but Moria rather, especially when I left at Home a handsome young Wife, several Children, and a Family, who had nothing in the World to depend upon for a Maintenance but my daily Labour.

Co. Sure it must be some important Reason that drew you away from all these engaging Relations. Prithee tell me what it was.

Ar. I am asham'd to tell it.

Co. You need not be asham'd to tell me, who, you know, have been sick of the same Distemper.

Ar. There was a Knot of Neighbours of us drinking together, and when the Wine began to work in our Noddles, one said he had a Mind to make a Visit to St. James, and another to St. Peter; presently there was one or two that promis'd to go with them, till at last it was concluded upon to go all together; and I, that I might not seem a disagreeable Companion, rather than break good Company, promised to go too. The next Question was, whether we should go to Rome or Compostella? Upon the Debate it was determin'd that we should all, God willing, set out the next Day for both Places.

Co. A grave Decree, fitter to be writ in Wine than engrav'd in Brass.

Ar. Presently a Bumper was put about to our good Journey, which when every Man had taken off in his Turn, the Vote passed into an Act, and became inviolable.

Co. A new Religion! But did you all come safe back?

Ar. All but three, one dy'd by the Way, and gave us in Charge to give his humble Service to Peter and James; another dy'd at Rome, who bad us remember him to his Wife and Children; and the third we left at Florence dangerously ill, and I believe he is in Heaven before now.

Co. Was he so good a Man then?

Ar. The veriest Droll in Nature.

Co. Why do you think he is in Heaven then?

Ar. Because he had a whole Satchel full of large Indulgencies.

Co. I understand you, but it is a long Way to Heaven, and a very dangerous one too, as I am told, by reason of the little Thieves that infest the middle Region of the Air.

Ar. That's true, but he was well fortify'd with Bulls.

Co. What Language were they written in?

Ar. In Latin.

Co. And will they secure him?

Ar. Yes, unless he should happen upon some Spirit that does not understand Latin, in that Case he must go back to Rome, and get a new Passport.

Co. Do they sell Bulls there to dead Men too?

Ar. Yes.

Co. But by the Way, let me advise you to have a Care what you say, for now there are a great many Spies abroad.

Ar. I don't speak slightingly of Indulgencies themselves, but I laugh at the Folly of my fuddling Companion, who tho' he was the greatest Trifler that ever was born, yet chose rather to venture the whole Stress of his Salvation upon a Skin of Parchment than upon the Amendment of his Life. But when shall we have that merry Bout you spoke of just now?

Co. When Opportunity offers we'll set a Time for a small Collation, and invite some of our Comrades, there we will tell Lies, who can lye fastest, and divert one another with Lies till we have our Bellies full.

Ar. Come on, a Match.

OF BENEFICE-HUNTERS

The ARGUMENT

In this Colloquy those Persons are reprehended that run to and again to Rome hunting after Benefices, and that oftentimes with the Hazard of the Corruption of their Morals, and the Loss of their Money. The Clergy are admonished to divert themselves with reading of good Books, rather than with a Concubine. Jocular Discourse concerning a long Nose.

PAMPHAGUS, COCLES.

PAM. Either my Sight fails me, or this is my old Pot-Companion Cocles.

Co. No, no, your Eyes don't deceive you at all, you see a Companion that is yours heartily. Nobody ever thought to have seen you again, you have been gone so many Years, and no Body knew what was become of you. But whence come you from? Prithee tell me.

Pa. From the Antipodes.

Co. Nay, but I believe you are come from the fortunate Islands.

Pa. I am glad you know your old Companion, I was afraid I should come home as Ulysses did.

Co. Why pray? After what Manner did he come Home?

Pa. His own Wife did not know him; only his Dog, being grown very old, acknowledg'd his Master, by wagging his Tail.

Co. How many Years was he from Home?

Pa. Twenty.

Co. You have been absent more than twenty Years, and yet I knew your Face again. But who tells that Story of Ulysses?

Pa. Homer.

Co. He? They say he's the Father of all fabulous Stories. It may be his Wife had gotten herself a Gallant in the mean time, and therefore did not know her own Ulysses.

Pa. No, nothing of that, she was one of the chastest Women in the World. But Pallas had made Ulysses look old, that he might not be known.

Co. How came he to be known at last?

Pa. By a little Wart that he had upon one of his Toes. His Nurse, who was now a very old Woman, took Notice of that as she was washing his Feet.

Co. A curious old Hagg. Well then, do you admire that I know you that have so remarkable a Nose.

Pa. I am not at all sorry for this Nose.

Co. No, nor have you any Occasion to be sorry for having a Thing that is fit for so many Uses.

Pa. For what Uses?

Co. First of all, it will serve instead of an Extinguisher, to put out Candles.

Pa. Go on.

Co. Again, if you want to draw any Thing out of a deep Pit, it will serve instead of an Elephant's Trunk.

Pa. O wonderful.

Co. If your Hands be employ'd, it will serve instead of a Pin.

Pa. Is it good for any Thing else?

Co. If you have no Bellows, it will serve to blow the Fire.

Pa. This is very pretty; have you any more of it?

Co. If the Light offends you when you are writing, it will serve for an Umbrella.

Pa. Ha, ha, ha! Have you any Thing more to say?

Co. In a Sea-fight it will serve for a Grappling-hook.

Pa. What will it serve for in a Land-fight?

Co. Instead of a Shield.

Pa. And what else?

Co. It will serve for a Wedge to cleave Wood withal.

Pa. Well said.

Co. If you act the Part of a Herald, it will be for a Trumpet; if you sound an Alarm, a Horn; if you dig, a Spade; if you reap, a Sickle; if you go to Sea, an Anchor; in the Kitchen it will serve for a Flesh-hook; and in Fishing a Fish-hook.

Pa. I am a happy Fellow indeed, I did not know I carry'd about me a Piece of Houshold Stuff that would serve for so many Uses.

Co. But in the mean Time, in what Corner of the Earth have you hid yourself all this While?

Pa. In Rome.

Co. But is it possible that in so publick a Place no Body should know you were alive?

Pa. Good Men are no where in the World so much incognito as there, so that in the brightest Day you shall scarce see one in a throng'd Market.

Co. Well, but then you're come home loaden with Benefices.

Pa. Indeed I hunted after them diligently, but I had no Success; for the Way of Fishing there is according to the Proverb, with a golden Hook.

Co. That's a foolish Way of Fishing.

Pa. No Matter for that, some Folks find it a very good Way.

Co. Are they not the greatest Fools in Nature that change Gold for Lead?

Pa. But don't you know that there are Veins of Gold in holy Lead?

Co. What then! Are you come back nothing but a Pamphagus?

Pa. No.

Co. What then, pray?

Pa. A ravenous Wolf.

Co. But they make a better Voyage of it, that return laden with Budgets full of Benefices. Why had you rather have a Benefice than a Wife?

Pa. Because I love to live at Ease. I love to live a pleasant Life.

Co. But in my Opinion they live the most pleasant Life that have at Home a pretty Girl, that they may embrace as often as they have a Mind to it.

Pa. And you may add this to it, sometimes when they have no Mind to it. I love a continual Pleasure; he that marries a Wife is happy for a Month, but he that gets a fat Benefice lives merrily all his Life.

Co. But Solitude is so melancholy a Life, that Adam, in Paradise could not have liv'd happily unless God had given him an Eve.

Pa. He'll ne'er need to want an Eve that has gotten a good Benefice.

Co. But that Pleasure can't really be call'd Pleasure that carries an ill Name and bad Conscience with it.

Pa. You say true, and therefore I design to divert the Tediousness of Solitude by a Conversation with Books.

Co. They are the pleasantest Companions in the World. But do you intend to return to your Fishing again?

Pa. Yes, I would, if I could get a fresh Bait.

Co. Would you have a golden one or a silver one?

Pa. Either of them.

Co. Be of good Cheer, your Father will supply you.

Pa. He'll part with nothing; and especially he'll not trust me again, when he comes to understand I have spent what I had to no Purpose.

Co. That's the Chance of the Dice.

Pa. But he don't like those Dice.

Co. If he shall absolutely deny you, I'll shew you where you may have as much as you please.

Pa. You tell me good News indeed, come shew it me, my Heart leaps for Joy.

Co. It is here hard by.

Pa. Why, have you gotten a Treasure?

Co. If I had, I would have it for myself, not for you.

Pa. If I could but get together 100 Ducats I should be in Hopes again.

Co. I'll shew you where you may have 100,000.

Pa. Prithee put me out of my Pain then, and do not teaze me to Death. Tell me where I may have it.

Co. From the Asse Budæi, there you may find a great many Ten Thousands, whether you'd have it Gold or Silver.

Pa. Go and be hang'd with your Banter, I'll pay you what I owe you out of that Bank.

Co. Ay, so you shall, but it shall be what I lend you out of it.

Pa. I know your waggish Tricks well enough.

Co. I'm not to be compar'd to you for that.

Pa. Nay, you are the veriest Wag in Nature, you are nothing but Waggery; you make a Jest of a serious Matter. In this Affair it is far easier Matter to teaze me than it is to please me. The Matter is of too great a Consequence to be made a Jest on. If you were in my Case you would not be so gamesome; you make a mere Game of me; you game and banter me. You joke upon me in a Thing that is not a joking Matter.

Co. I don't jeer you, I speak what I think. Indeed I do not laugh, I speak my Mind. I speak seriously. I speak from my Heart. I speak sincerely. I speak the Truth.

Pa. So may your Cap stand always upon your Head, as you speak sincerely. But do I stand loitering here, and make no haste Home to see how all Things go there?

Co. You'll find a great many Things new.

Pa. I believe I shall; but I wish I may find all Things as I would have them.

Co. We may all wish so if we will, but never any Body found it so yet.

Pa. Our Rambles will do us both this Good, that we shall like Home the better for Time to come.

Co. I can't tell that, for I have seen some that have play'd the same Game over and over again; if once this Infection seizes a Person he seldom gets rid of it.

OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE

The ARGUMENT

The wicked Life of Soldiers is here reprehended, and shewn to be very miserable: That War is Confusion, and a Sink of all manner of Vices, in as much as in it there is no Distinction made betwixt Things sacred and profane. The Hope of Plunder allures many to become Soldiers. The Impieties of a Military Life are here laid open, by this Confession of a Soldier, that Youth may be put out of Conceit of going into the Army.

HANNO, THRASYMACHUS.

Hanno. How comes it about that you that went away a Mercury, come back a Vulcan?

Thr. What do you talk to me of your Mercuries and your Vulcans for?

Ha. Because you seem'd to be ready to fly when you went away, but you're come limping Home.

Thr. I'm come back like a Soldier then.

Ha. You a Soldier, that would out-run a Stag if an Enemy were at your Heels.

Thr. The Hope of Booty made me valiant.

Ha. Well, have you brought Home a good Deal of Plunder then?

Thr. Empty Pockets.

Ha. Then you were the lighter for travelling.

Thr. But I was heavy loaden with Sin.

Ha. That's heavy Luggage indeed, if the Prophet says right, who calls Sin Lead.

Thr. I have seen and had a Hand in more Villanies this Campaign than in the whole Course of my Life before.

Ha. How do you like a Soldier's Life?

Thr. There is no Course of Life in the. World more wicked or more wretched.

Ha. What then must be in the Minds of those People, that for the Sake of a little Money, and some out of Curiosity, make as much Haste to a Battel as to a Banquet?

Thr. In Truth, I can think no other but they are possess'd; for if the Devil were not in them they would never anticipate their Fate.

Ha. So one would think, for if you'd put 'em upon any honest Business, they'll scarce stir a Foot in it for any Money. But tell me, how went the Battel? Who got the better on't?

Thr. There was such a Hallooing, Hurly-burly, Noise of Guns, Trumpets and Drums, Neighing of Horses, and Shouting of Men, that I was so far from knowing what others were a doing, that I scarcely knew where I was myself.

Ha. How comes it about then that others, after a Fight is over, do paint you out every Circumstance so to the Life, and tell you what such an Officer said, and what t'other did, as tho' they had been nothing but Lookers on all the Time, and had been every where at the same Time?

Thr. It is my Opinion that they lye confoundedly. I can tell you what was done in my own Tent, but as to what was done in the Battel, I know nothing at all of that.

Ha. Don't you know how you came to be lame neither?

Thr. Scarce that upon my Honour, but I suppose my Knee was hurt by a Stone, or a Horse-heel, or so.

Ha. Well, but I can tell you.

Thr. You tell me? Why, has any Body told you?

Ha. No, but I guess.

Thr. Tell me then.

Ha. When you were running away in a Fright, you fell down and hit it against a Stone.

Thr. Let me die if you han't hit the Nail on the Head.

Ha. Go, get you Home, and tell your Wife of your Exploits.

Thr. She'll read me a Juniper-Lecture for coming Home in such a Pickle.

Ha. But what Restitution will you make for what you have stolen?

Thr. That's made already.

Ha. To whom?

Thr. Why, to Whores, Sutlers, and Gamesters.

Ha. That's like a Soldier for all the World, it's but just that what's got over the Devil's Back should be spent under his Belly.

Ha. But I hope you have kept your Fingers all this While from Sacrilege?

Thr. There's nothing sacred in Hostility, there we neither spare private Houses nor Churches.

Ha. How will you make Satisfaction?

Thr. They say there is no Satisfaction to be made for what is done in War, for all Things are lawful there.

Ha. You mean by the Law of Arms, I suppose?

Thr. You are right.

Ha. But that Law is the highest Injustice. It was not the Love of your Country, but the Love of Booty that made you a Soldier.

Thr. I confess so, and I believe very few go into the Army with any better Design.

Ha. It is indeed some Excuse to be mad with the greater Part of Mankind.

Thr. I have heard a Parson say in his Pulpit that War was lawful.

Ha. Pulpits indeed are the Oracles of Truth. But War may be lawful for a Prince, and yet not so for you.

Thr. I have heard that every Man must live by his Trade.

Ha. A very honourable Trade indeed to burn Houses, rob Churches, ravish Nuns, plunder the Poor, and murder the Innocent!

Thr. Butchers are hired to kill Beasts; and why is our Trade found Fault with who are hired to kill Men?

Ha. But was you never thoughtful what should become of your Soul if you happen'd to be kill'd in the Battel?

Thr. Not very much; I was very well satisfied in my Mind, having once for all commended myself to St. Barbara.

Ha. And did she take you under her Protection?

Thr. I fancied so, for methought she gave me a little Nod.

Ha. What Time was it? In the Morning?

Thr. No, no, 'twas after Supper.

Ha. And by that Time I suppose the Trees seem'd to walk too?

Thr. How this Man guesses every Thing! But St. Christopher was the Saint I most depended on, whose Picture I had always in my Eye.

Ha. What in your Tent?

Thr. We had drawn him with Charcoal upon our Sail-cloth.

Thr. Then to be sure that Christopher the Collier was a sure Card to trust to? But without jesting, I don't see how you can expect to be forgiven all these Villanies, unless you go to Rome.

Thr. Yes, I can, I know a shorter Way than that.

Ha. What Way is that?

Thr. I'll go to the Dominicans, and there I can do my Business with the Commissaries for a Trifle.

Ha. What, for Sacrilege?

Thr. Ay, if I had robb'd Christ himself, and cut off his Head afterwards, they have Pardons would reach it, and Commissions large enough to compound for it.

Ha. That is well indeed, if God should ratify your Composition.

Thr. Nay, I am rather afraid the Devil should not ratify it; God is of a forgiving Nature.

Ha. What Priest will you get you?

Thr. One that I know has but little Modesty or Honesty.

Ha. Like to like. And when that's over, you'll go strait away to the Communion, like a good Christian, will you not?

Thr. Why should I not? For after I have once discharg'd the Jakes of my Sins into his Cowl, and unburden'd myself of my Luggage, let him look to it that absolv'd me.

Ha. But how can you be sure that he does absolve you?

Thr. I know that well enough.

Ha. How do you know it?

Thr. Because he lays his Hand upon my Head and mutters over something, I don't know what.

Ha. What if he should give you all your Sins again when he lays his Hand upon your Head, and these should be the Words he mutters to himself? I absolve thee from all thy good Deeds, of which I find few or none in thee; I restore thee to thy wonted Manners, and leave thee just as I found thee.

Thr. Let him look to what he says, it is enough for me that I believe I am absolv'd.

Ha. But you run a great Hazard by that Belief, for perhaps that will not be Satisfaction to God, to whom thou art indebted.

Thr. Who a Mischief put you in my Way to disturb my Conscience, which was very quiet before?

Ha. Nay, I think it is a very happy Encounter to meet a Friend that gives good Advice.

Thr. I can't tell how good it is, but I am sure it is not very pleasant.