_ Pray what Sort of a
Marriage
is it?
Erasmus
_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.
_The EXORCISM or APPARITION. _
The ARGUMENT.
_This Colloquy detects the Artifices of Impostors, who
impose upon the credulous and simple, framing Stories of
Apparitions of Daemons and Ghosts, and divine Voices. _
Polus _is the Author of a Rumour, that an Apparition of a
certain Soul was heard in his Grounds, howling after a
lamentable Manner: At another Place he pretends to see a
Dragon in the Air, in the middle of the Day, and
persuades other Persons that they saw it too; and he
prevails upon_ Faunus, _a Parish-Priest of a neighbouring
Town, to make Trial of the Truth of the Matters, who
consents to do it, and prepares Exorcisms. _ Polus _gets
upon a black Horse, throws Fire about, and with divers
Tricks deceives credulous_ Faunus, _and other Men of none
of the deepest Penetration. _
THOMAS _and_ ANSELM.
_Tho. _ What good News have you had, that you laugh to yourself thus, as
if you had found a Treasure?
_Ans. _ Nay, you are not far from the Matter.
_Tho. _ But won't you impart it to your Companion, what good Thing soever
it is?
_Ans. _ Yes, I will, for I have been wishing a good While, for somebody
to communicate my Merriment to.
_Tho. _ Come on then, let's have it.
_Ans. _ I was just now told the pleasantest Story, which you'd swear was
a Sham, if I did not know the Place, the Persons, and whole Matter, as
well as you know me.
_Tho. _ I'm with Child to hear it.
_Ans. _ Do you know _Polus, Faunus_'s Son-in-Law?
_Tho. _ Perfectly well.
_Ans. _ He's both the Contriver and Actor of this Play.
_Tho. _ I am apt enough to believe that; for he can Act any Part to the
Life.
_Ans. _ He can so: I suppose too, you know that he has a Farm not far
from _London_.
_Tho. _ Phoo, very well; he and I have drank together many a Time there.
_Ans. _ Then you know there is a Way between two straight Rows of Trees.
_Tho. _ Upon the left Hand, about two Flight Shot from the House?
_Ans. _ You have it. On one Side of the Way there is a dry Ditch,
overgrown with Thorns and Brambles; and then there's a Way that leads
into an open Field from a little Bridge.
_Tho. _ I remember it.
_Ans. _ There went a Report for a long Time among the Country-People, of
a Spirit that walk'd near that Bridge, and of hideous Howlings that were
every now and then heard there: They concluded it was the Soul of
somebody that was miserably tormented.
_Tho. _ Who was it that raised this Report?
_Ans. _ Who but _Polus_, that made this the Prologue to his Comedy.
_Tho. _ What did he mean by inventing such a Flam?
_Ans. _ I know nothing; but that it is the Humour of the Man, he takes
Delight to make himself Sport, by playing upon the Simplicity of People,
by such Fictions as these. I'll tell you what he did lately of the same
Kind. We were a good many of us riding to _Richmond_, and some of the
Company were such that you would say were Men of Judgment. It was a
wonderful clear Day, and not so much as a Cloud to be seen there.
_Polus_ looking wistfully up into the Air, signed his Face and Breast
with the Sign of the Cross, and having compos'd his Countenance to an
Air of Amazement, says to himself, O immortal God, what do I see! They
that rode next to him asking him what it was that he saw, he fell again
to signing himself with a greater Cross. May the most merciful God, says
he, deliver me from this Prodigy. They having urg'd him, desiring to
know what was the Matter, he fixing his Eyes up to Heaven, and pointing
with his Finger to a certain Quarter of it, don't you see, says he, that
monstrous Dragon arm'd with fiery Horns, and its Tail turn'd up in a
Circle? And they denying they saw it, he bid them look earnestly, every
now and then pointing to the Place: At last one of them, that he might
not seem to be bad-sighted, affirmed that he saw it. And in Imitation of
him, first one, and then another, for they were asham'd that they could
not see what was so plain to be seen: And in short, in three Days Time,
the Rumour of this portentous Apparition had spread all over _England_.
And it is wonderful to think how popular Fame had amplified the Story,
and some pretended seriously to expound to what this Portent did
predict, and he that was the Contriver of the Fiction, took a mighty
Pleasure in the Folly of these People.
_Tho. _ I know the Humour of the Man well enough. But to the Story of the
Apparition.
_Ans. _ In the mean Time, one _Faunus_ a Priest (of those which in
_Latin_ they call _Regulars_, but that is not enough, unless they add
the same in _Greek_ too, who was Parson of a neighbouring Parish, this
Man thought himself wiser than is common, especially in holy Matters)
came very opportunely to pay a Visit to _Polus_.
_Tho. _ I understand the Matter: There is one found out to be an Actor in
this Play.
_Ans. _ At Supper a Discourse was raised of the Report of this
Apparition, and when _Polus_ perceiv'd that _Faunus_ had not only heard
of the Report, but believ'd it, he began to intreat the Man, that as he
was a holy and a learned Person, he would afford some Relief to a poor
Soul that was in such dreadful Torment: And, says he, if you are in any
Doubt as to the Truth of it, examine into the Matter, and do but walk
near that Bridge about ten a-Clock, and you shall hear miserable Cries;
take who you will for a Companion along with you, and so you will hear
both more safely and better.
_Tho. _ Well, what then?
_Ans. _ After Supper was over, _Polus_, as his Custom was, goes a Hunting
or Fowling. And when it grew duskish, the Darkness having taken away all
Opportunity of making any certain Judgment of any Thing, _Faunus_ walks
about, and at last hears miserable Howlings. _Polus_ having hid himself
in a Bramble Hedge hard by, had very artfully made these Howlings, by
speaking through an earthen Pot; the Voice coming through the Hollow of
it, gave it a most mournful Sound.
_Tho. _ This Story, as far as I see, out-does _Menander's Phasma_.
_Ans. _ You'll say more, if you shall hear it out. _Faunus_ goes Home,
being impatient to tell what he had heard. _Polus_ taking a shorter Way,
had got Home before him. _Faunus_ up and tells _Polus_ all that past,
and added something of his own to it, to make the Matter more wonderful.
_Tho. _ Could _Polus_ keep his Countenance in the mean Time?
_Ans. _ He keep his Countenance! He has his Countenance in his Hand, you
would have said that a serious Affair was transacted. In the End
_Faunus_, upon the pressing Importunity of _Polus_, undertakes the
Business of Exorcism, and slept not one Wink all that Night, in
contriving by what Means he might go about the Matter with Safety, for
he was wretchedly afraid. In the first Place he got together the most
powerful Exorcisms that he could get, and added some new ones to them,
as the Bowels of the Virgin _Mary_, and the Bones of St. _Winifred_.
After that, he makes Choice of a Place in the plain Field, near the
Bramble Bushes, from whence the Voice came. He draws a very large
Circle with a great many Crosses in it, and a Variety of Characters. And
all this was perform'd in a set Form of Words; there was also there a
great Vessel full of holy Water, and about his Neck he had a holy Stole
(as they call'd it) upon which hung the Beginning of the Gospel of
_John_. He had in his Pocket a little Piece of Wax, which the Bishop of
_Rome_ used to consecrate once a Year, which is commonly call'd _Agnus
Dei_. With these Arms in Times past, they were wont to defend themselves
against evil Spirits, before the Cowl of St. _Francis_ was found to be
so formidable. All these Things were provided, lest if it should be an
evil Spirit it should fall foul upon the Exorcist: nor did he for all
this, dare to trust himself in the Circle alone, but he determined to
take some other Priest along with him. Upon this _Polus_ being afraid,
that if he took some sharper Fellow than himself along with him, the
whole Plot might come to be discover'd, he got a Parish-Priest
there-about, whom he acquainted before-hand with the whole Design; and
indeed it was necessary for the carrying on the Adventure, and he was a
Man fit for such a Purpose. The Day following, all Things being prepared
and in good Order, about ten a-Clock _Faunus_ and the Parish-Priest
enter the Circle.
