THE GRAVES-END Tilt-Boat.

LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1699.

THE GRAVES-END Tilt-Boat.

BUsiness, like the Goddess Diana, is the Idol that all the World Worships; and all pretend to it, even from the King to the Beggar; And is a thing of so much Reputation, that they that have none, make it their Business to seek some; and are as busie in looking after Business, as a Hen that scrapes for a whole Brood of Chickens: This thing call'd Business is divided and diversify'd into all sorts and sizes, and admits of more Variety than the colours of the Rainbow. It was Busi­ness that brought me to the Graves-End Tilt-Boat, as it did several others, for we were a whole Boat full, and every one pretended Bu­siness; and tho' every Mans Business differ'd, yet it was all our Business to go to Graves-End: And the Weather being Warm, and the bright Eye of the World appearing in its Meridian [Page 4] Lustre, invited us to sit very orderly upon the Benches, and not to lie hickle-de-pickle-de, which is the Allamode-posture of the Tilt-Boat Passengers.

And whilst each one was Endeavouring by some Discourse or other to while away the time, and divert the tediousness of our Passage, there was one Person who had the Mein of a Gentleman, (but both his Garb and Looks sufficiently declar'd him a decay'd one) who sat as Melancholly as an old Cat, and gave every one cause enough to suspect that blind Fortune, like a very Jilt as she is, had severely bent her Brows, and frown'd upon him; and that he labour'd under the Malevolent Influen­ces of some unkind Stars, whose dire Aspects he was Unable to Ward off: Which really touch'd my Foolish heart with so much pity, that I cou'd not but sympathize with him in his unknown Sorrows. Which that I better might divert him from, Directing my Discourse to him, What, all-a-mort, Sir, says I! If you have met with Troubles, trouble your self no more about 'em; there's still a Morning to the Darkest Night; nor was the Sky ever so over-cast with Blackness, but that the all-Enlivening Sun shot forth his bright Corruscant Beams again, and dry'd up all those Tears the Clouds had wept, of which this lovely Day is a sufficient demon­stration; [Page 5] and since this Company, nay, and all Nature smiles, why shou'd a Cloud be seen upon your Brows? The Gentleman, who had till now held down his head in a disponding posture, and look'd as Meagre as the Picture of old Envy on the Monument, at this rais'd him­self up, and said, Ah Sir! I thank you for your good Advice, but did you know my Griefs as well as I do, you'd say they were too great to hope a Cure; and there is scarce a Day that passes, but makes 'em yet more desperate, and me more hopeless. Nor is it for my self alone that I am troubled, for I cou'd bear the worst of Ills my self, and dare my Angry Fate to pour down all its Curses on my head, might I alone be made the Object of 'em, and no one suffer else. But 'tis another's Fate for whom I mourn, who from the greatest height of Happiness the World cou'd give him, is now become an Ab­ject, and made the very Tennis-Ball of Fortune. You have, said I, for ought I know, reason for your Grief, and wou'd you but relate the Story of your Sorrows, it wou'd at least, I do per­swade my self, have this Effect, that by a gene­rous sympathy we shou'd Commiserate your Fate, and have a fellow-feeling of your Suffer­ings; and 'tis, you know, some Ease but to be pitied, and have Companions in Affliction. You Speak so generously, reply'd the Melancholy Gentleman, That tho' to answer your Request, [Page 6] be to renew my Grief, I'll give you the sad Story of my Troubles as briefly as I can. Up­on this, there was a general silence, for we had all a Mind to hear him, whilst he thus began.

The First Tale. The Ʋnnatural Children.

I Had once the Honour to be none of the meanest Servants to a Gentleman of the first Quallity in England; and one not more re­markable for Greatness than for Goodness; for he Excell'd in every thing, and was the most tender of all Husbands to his Wives (for he has had two) the most Indulgent Father to his Children, the kindest Master to his Servants, and the best of Landlords to his Tennants; whom he Endear'd to him by so much Kindness and Freedom, that they seem'd to be the Fami­ly of Love: I have already told you that my Master had two Wives, by the first of which he had two Daughters, who had they been as Ver­tuous as they were fair, no Father in the World could have been happier in his Children.

But, alas! The Case was far otherwise: For they both prov'd very Undutiful to their Fa­ther; especially the Eldest, who was Proud [Page 7] and Imperious, looking upon all others to be below her, and beholding 'em with scorn and contempt; so haughty she was, she cou'd not Endure to be contradicted; and naturally of an Aspiring Temper, desiring to be possess'd of her Father's Estate; which altho' (if he had dy'd without a Son) she wou'd certainly have enjoy'd, yet she wou'd rather have her Father turn'd out of doors, than tarry till that time came: In which Attempt her Youngest Sister, who lov'd her Father best of the two, was yet drawn in to joyn with her, and so was her Husband also, tho' otherwise a quiet good na­tur'd Gentleman, who if he might but enjoy his Pleasure, was willing to let the World go as it wou'd; Being far unlike the Eldest Daugh­ter's Husband, who was Proud and haughty, and Ambitious beyond Measure; of a bold and daring Spirit, but withal very Malicious and Revengeful, and one that wou'd stick at no­thing to bring about his own Designs: Making great pretences to Vertue and Religion, which serv'd only as a Cloak to his Ambition; and as a Blind whereby he might conceal his Wick­ed Purposes; looking upon Justice, Honesty, Truth, and Right, as things invented to keep Fools in awe; and those that he chiefly hugg'd in his Bosom, and made Privy to his Designs, were men of the same Profligate Principles with himself, by whose advice and counsel he [Page 8] was always sway'd: And then his Covetousness was as great as his Ambition; which made him esteem every thing lawful, that he thought wou'd prove Profitable; for Right or Wrong were things that never troubled him. Now this being the Character of my Masters Chil­dren, it was not likely that things shou'd prove much better than afterwards they fell out.

Whilst things continu'd thus, my Master's Eldest Brother dy'd, and having no lawful Issue of his own, left all his Estate to him, with an encrease of Power as well as Riches; for he was Lord of several large and Wealthy Mannors: All which my Master us'd with so much Lenity and Moderation, as made him still better belov'd by every one.

And in a short time after, his Lady (who was a Gentlewoman of a high Descent, and inrich'd with many great and Noble Vertues) was brought a Bed of a Young Son, which caus'd no little Joy amongst us all, especially my Master, who now had got an heir to all his great Estate; and this Young Gentleman was look'd upon to be the growing hopes of all the Family. — But, O the Fickleness of For­tune, and the Unconstancy of sublunary things! How quickly was our Joy turn'd into Mourn­ing? And our Rejoycing into Grief and Sor­row? [Page 9] My Master's Eldest Daughter (altho she had no Children of her own) who had always flatter'd her self with the hopes of enjoying her Father's Estate, but now seeing a Young Heir was born to put her Nose quite out of Joynt, and cutting off her self and Sister too, from the In­heritance, was mightily afflicted at this News, being (as I have said) a Woman of a very haughty and Imperious Temper; and cou'd not forbear publickly to shew her Resentment: But her Husband, finding on a sudden all his great Expectations come to nothing, and that this Heir wou'd deprive him of the Inheritance, he fretted, fum'd, and storm'd like a Mad­man, giving out that the Young Son was Spu­rious and surreptitious, and only a Trick of his Mother-in-Law's to cheat him of his Right; saying his Father was either Impos'd upon, or joyn'd in the confederacy against him; with many other Extravagant things of that Nature, resolving however to run through all obstacles, to gratifie his Pride and Am­bition.

And because he knew his Father-in-law to be of a Religion differing from the Publick Profession, he gave out that he had a design to introduce his own Religion in all places where he had to do; and that all those who would not profess it, shou'd be turn'd out of [Page 10] their Farms, and their Leases become forfeit­ed: And if at any time any difference happen­ed between my Master and the Tenants, he wou'd be still interposing by his Spies, (For he had corrupted several of my Masters Menial Servants; and amongst others, his Secretary, who still sent him word of all Occurrences that happened in his Family; and likewise one of his Pages, bred up by him from a Child, who tho' he pretended not to like my Masters Religion, was of an Ill Church himself; or else he wou'd never have forsook his Master, as he did) and like his Predecessor Absalom of old, wou'd seem to pity the Tenants, because there was none to do 'em Justice, setting himself up for a Patriot, in a Place where he had nothing to do, for his Estate lay in another County.

By these and such-like Clandestine Proceed­ings, he had so far alienated the hearts of my Masters Tenants from him, and many of his own Servants likewise, that his Interest was very great among 'em. And my Master happening to lop down some over-grown Trees that stood before his Mansion-house, and hinder'd his Prospect, his Son-in-law caus'd it to be insi­nuated among the Tenants, that this was a Breach of the Fundamental Constitution that by the Laws of the Mannor it cou'd not be done, but was an Arbitrary thing, and tended [Page 11] to the destruction of the Tenants, all whose Woods he might cut down upon the same Pre­tence. — And then pretending, for the Secu­rity of their Religion and Liberties, to assist them against these Encroachments, which were occasion'd by some Evil Servants of his Father's which ought to be removed, he raises the Posse Comitatus of the County where he liv'd, and having got several of the Tenants to joyn with him, comes upon the Estate, turns my Master, his Lady and Son, out of Doors, and seizes on all that was Valuable there, commit­ing so great a Ravage and Havock upon the Estate, that a hundred years will hardly make good again; turning all his Servants out of Doors, having first Stript them of what they had, except such as were in his Interest, for the only Crime of being Faithful to our Master. Whose Disconsolate Circumstances, now in his Old Age, troubles me more than my own.

He has indeed one Friend, at the Expence of whose generous Charity he has been suppor­ted, ever since he was dispossess'd of his Estate: This Friend commenc'd a Suit at Law with my Masters Son-in-Law, for the Recovery of his Estate, and said he wou'd never give over till he had accomplish'd it, which gave us all great hopes of seeing good Days again. But after a Law-Suit of Ten Years continu­ance, [Page 12] first in one Court, and then in another, my Master's Friend being almost ruin'd by it, his Son-in-Law having the largest Purse, being in Possession, and Feeing high, and Corrupting all the Judges with Bribes, he forc'd him at last (for all his great Boasts to my Master,) to comply with him; so that there is an Agree­ment made between 'em; and he now owns the Son-in-Law for the Right Landlord, and all the Tenants have acknowledg'd him for such, and pay their Rents to him; and all this without any Provision made for my Old Master, or his Young Son, or any of his Servants: So that now all our hopes of help are become hopeless, and we have nothing left us but a Prospect of certain Ruine; as you may see by the following Scheme of our present Condition. A knagged Staff is our Companion, our Inn is at Beggars Bush, Duke Humphry is our Hoste, and Mother Need our Hostess; our Bed is the Earth, the Air serves us for Curtains, and the Sky for a Canopy: Our Meat is only Sighs, our Drink is our Tears, our Sauce Hunger, and our Physick Patience, which being forc'd, is only a Medicine for a Mad Dog.

Judge now Gentlemen, (continu'd this An­tiquated Servant) if I have not great reason in such a hopeless State to be Melancholly? Being reduc'd to so low an Ebb of Fortune, and de­priv'd [Page 13] of that whch is the Relief of the most Miserable, I mean Hope, (which as I said) in our present Circumstances is become hopeless.

This is indeed a Melancholly Story, said ano­ther of the Passengers that sat by him; but sure there must be something more in it: Why shou'd the Son turn his Father-in-Law out of Doors, and raise the Posse Comitatus without any Provocation? What signify'd the cutting down of a few Trees? That cou'd be no great matter: Besides, they were his own, and who cou'd hinder him?

To this Mr. Melancholly reply'd, You mis­take the Case, Sir; it was not so much the Cutting down the Trees; that was only a Pretence: It was the Young Son that was the Provocation; for he being the Heir, the Hopes of the Inheritance was thereby cut off: Had it not been for this, my Master might have cut down all the Trees on the Ground if he wou'd.

The Case was truly hard, Reply'd the Pas­senger again, for a Father to be turn'd out of Doors thus by his Children; and shews 'em to be Extreamly Unnatural. But pray what be­came of the Youngest Daughter, for you don't tell us what concern she had in the matter?

The Youngest Daughter, reply'd the Old Gentleman, always liv'd with her Father, and so lov'd him the best of the two; but being Inveigl'd by her Brother and Sister, who told her the Estate shou'd come to her and her Chil­dren after their Death, (the Eldest having no Children of her own) she consented to them, and run away into another County with her Father's Chaplin (who had got a pair of Jack-Boots and put himself into a Troopers habit) just when her Brother came to take Possession of the Estate, and turn all out of Doors. Her Husband, who I told you was a sort of Un­thinking good-natur'd Man, being with my Master at that time, he told him he heard his Eldest Daughters Husband design'd to Seiz on his Estate, and turn him out of Door: The Young Gentleman (who seem'd to have no hand in the Plot) told him 'Twas Imposseeble, and yet the next Morning went away to his Brother, and left his Father: His Wife com­ing back, as soon as her Father was turn'd out, and his Estate Seiz'd.

Having heard the Gentleman's Story out, We all Commiserated the Unhappy Condition of the Injur'd Father; and pitied the Meagre Gentleman that told the Story; Upon which a Passenger that sat next but one to me, ad­dressing himself to him, said, I have heard your [Page 15] Tale, and am sorry for your Misfortunes; and tho' it is not in my Power to help you; yet Sir, for your Diversion, I'll tell you a Parallel Story to that which you have told; and indeed not much unlike it, only yours is of Unnatural Chil­dren, and mine is of a Cruel Father, which without any farther Preface, is as follows:

The Second Tale. The Cruel Father.

THere Liv'd not long since in one of the lar­gest Counties in England, a Nobleman that shall be Nameless, whose Nobility of Birth and great Estate, had dignify'd him with the Title of Lord Lieutenant of the County where he liv'd; and where he might have liv'd happily to this Day, had not he been far more remar­kable for Wickedness than for his Birth: It would be hard to give an Exact Character of him, he was so great a Compound of all Vice, but Cruelty and Revenge had the Ascendant over all the rest; and his thirst after Blood was insatiable; which made him Implacable towards all whom he thought to have Injur'd him: He did indeed profess the Popish Reli­gion, but that, in the late Reigns, was thought [Page 16] no Crime; and it is hard to say whether his Religion made him so Cruel, or his Cruelty made him turn Papist, (for he was bred a Pro­testant in his Younger Days) but this is cer­tain, he was Proud, Revengeful, and Malici­ous; and wou'd carry on his Designs by Trea­chery, and Deceit; his Words wou'd be smoo­ther than Oyl, when the greatest Villany was in his Heart; and it was shrewdly suspected by many that he caus'd his own Brother to be Poisoned, that he might Enjoy his Estate: And this was very common to him, that he wou'd commit Twenty Villanies to cover one; and but to know that any Person suspected him, was to have that Person taken out of the World: to which End he always kept a Crew of Beggarly Cut-throats depending upon him, which would Swear any Man out of his Life upon occasion, especially if he was Rich, and there was any hope of Forfeitures to fall to the King, which he wou'd be sure to beg, and thereby gratifie his Knights of the Post out of the Ill-gotten Spoils: But if the Person prov'd too great to be taken off under a Pretence of Justice, his Crew were ready at his Beck to Cut their Throats, and then to lay the Crime on the Person they had so Murder'd, as if he had done it himself: He turn'd out all honest Gentlemen from being Justices of the Peace, or Officers of the Militia in the County where [Page 17] he was Lord Lieutenant, and affected an Ar­bitrary Rule and Domination, in all that he did, not caring what he Swore, or how he took his Oath; so that no Man cou'd use that Confession in the common Prayer, We have done those things we ought not to have done, and left undone those things we ought to have done, better than himself: And such as himself was, were his Servants likewise; being a Pack of the greatest Villains that ever scap'd the Gal­lows; as forward to do any Mischief, as he was to set 'em about it: The most beggarly Scoundrels, and Blood thirsty Rascals that ever came into the Service of a Gentleman; their only Vertue being Passive-Obedience, for they were, for the most part, such Cowards, that they knew not how to resist.

And yet this Gentleman (as wicked as he was) had two fair Daughters whose Piety and Vertue was so great and Exemplary, that it did more than Compensate for all their Fathers Ills; who every Day offer'd up Pious Prayers to Heaven, to turn him from the Evil of his Ways; and griev'd to see the courses that he took: Who in return, repay'd them Hatred for their Love and Duty; tho' for no other Reason, but because they were Vertuous, and wou'd not turn Papists, as their Father had done, but both continu'd Zealous Protestants. [Page 18] The Eldest of them, who was much the fair­est of the Two, and was the Wonder of her Sex, for Piety and Vertue, was Married to a Gentleman so truly Noble, and Compleat in all Perfections, as if his Brest had been the Magazine of all the Vertues, for there they had their Constant Residence: His Actions were always the Product of a well-grounded Judgment, having Reason and Religion for their Basis; In all his Attempts he was Brave and Undaunted, but wou'd never attempt an Unjust thing: He was always a great Assertor of the Liberty of Mankind, and always an Enemy to Popery and Slavery, for which rea­son his Father-in-Law hated him.

I have forgot to tell you, That the Lord Lieutenant had a mighty kindness for a Great Man in a Neighbouring County, who govern'd the People there with the extremest rigor and severity Imaginable, using all manner of Cruelty and Oppression towards, 'em; breaking down all the Bounds and Fences of Law and Justice, and making no Distinction either of Right or Wrong; not Valuing the most Sacred Laws and Edicts that had been Confirmed with the greatest Solemnity; so that none that knew him wou'd ever trust him, if they cou'd avoid it, and whoever did, was sure to come off a Loser: For Vows nor Oaths cou'd hold him, any longer than till he had an Opportunity to break 'em. [Page 19] This was t [...] only Crony of the Lord Lieute­nant, who [...]dmir'd his Conduct, and follow'd his Exampl [...] in all he cou'd: But his Noble Son-in-law had always oppos'd his Practices, and hindred him several times from Oppres­sing his Neighbours as he design'd to have done. Which made his Father hate him the more, for he lov'd no body so well as this old Tyrant; and had rather his Estate shou'd fall into his hands, than into the hands of his Son-in-Law; Who having as I said Married the Eldest Daughter, and having no Son, the Estate must of Necessity fall into his hands; which the Lord Lieutenant and his Lady, (a Popish Bigot like her Husband) thus Endea­vour'd to prevent: They gave out a Report, and spread it abroad, that his Lady was with Child, who to make herself appear big, wore a Cushion upon her Belly; and understanding that two or three Poor Women that were their Neighbours were with Child at that time, had agreed to take away one of them that shou'd be a Boy, and privately convey it to her, who shou'd then pretend to be brought a Bed, and it shou'd pass for her own Child. Who by that means shou'd be the Heir of the Estate, and be brought up in the Popish Reli­gion, and so his two Heretick Daughters and their Issue shou'd be Excluded. This Cursed Design to deprive his Children of their Right, [Page 20] was mightily hugg'd by him and his Lady; who thought the matter laid so well, it cou'd admit of no Discovery. —

But it often falls out, the Crafty are taken in their own Snares; for as closely as the De­sign was laid, several of their own Servants having a Watchful Eye over all that past, and who pretended to be much in their Interest, and shew'd a great Inclination to turn to their Religion, (tho' in their hearts they abhorr'd both their Religion and Practice, especially this his Villanous Contrivance against his own Chil­dren) upon which account they were sworn to Secrecy, and let into all the Design; by which means it came more particularly to be discover'd. Besides which, several of the Gen­try, and chief Freeholders in the County, were very suspicious of the Imposture, and amaz'd at the Villany of the Contrivance; which yet was mightily Encourag'd and cry'd up by that old Rogue I have before Spoken of, in the adjoyning County, from whom he generally took all his Measures.

The time of the pretended Lying-in being come, for that a poor Cottager, one of their Tennant's Wives, being deliver'd of a lusty Boy, Notice was instantly given to the Lady thereof, who presently orders the Child to be [Page 21] brought, and then feigns to fall into Labour, in which she made a great crying out, to put a gloss upon the matter, but it was quickly over, for the Child was born to her hands, which was well known to several of the Ser­vants: However it was presently publish'd that a Son was born, and great Rejoycings made upon it.

But the Gentry and several of the Freehol­ders of the County, being now beyond all Doubt assur'd of the Imposture, were extream­ly troubled at the Daringness of this Wicked Contrivance; and justly reflected, that since their Lord Lieutenant had been guilty of so great a Piece of Barbarity to his own Chil­dren, there was no Wickedness that he wou'd stick at; and consequently that both their Lives and Estates were in continual Danger from him.

And they had so much the greater reason to fear this, because but the Day before his Lady pretended to be brought a Bed, he had caus'd several of the Principal Clergy of the County (whose watchful Eyes he was afrai'd would have discover'd his Villany) to be ac­cus'd of Disloyalty to the King, and clapt up into Prison; having also sometime before, sent down a Bloody Villain that was his chief Ser­vant, [Page 22] into the Western Parts of the County, and made it almost a meer shambles, upon the like Shameless Pretences; and being great at Court, no Complaints there wou'd be heard a­gainst him; Besides, he was so upheld in all his Wickedness by that old Villain, the Lord Lieutenant of the adjoyning County, between whom and himself there was so strict a Friend­ship and Amity, that he now began to think himself above the Fear of Punishment.

Upon all these Considerations, several of the Principal Gentry and Free-holders of the Coun­ty secretly consulted together what they shou'd do for the Preservation of their Lives and Estates, and found they had no Remedy left, but to send to their Lord Lieutenant's Eldest Daughter's Husband, who was a Gentleman of great Interest and Power, both in his own County and in the Lord Lieutenant's, and who was both Wise and Valiant, and of Un­spotted Integrity and Honour; of which all that knew him were very sensible: For there had been very great offers made to him some time ago both by his Father-in-law, and his Old Neighbouring Brother in Iniquity, That if he wou'd change his Religion, and come into their Interest, he shou'd have whatever he wou'd ask; But he generously refus'd their offer, and let 'em know that he wou'd not do a [Page 23] dishonest thing to be made the greatest Prince in Europe; after which, they always both fear'd and hated him.

Being come to this Result, they sent two or three Gentlemen to him privatly, who gave him an Account of the then sad Condition their County, Religion, Lives and Liberties were in, by the Arbitrary and Tyrannical Proceedings of their Lord Lieutenant; and likewise how lately he had substituted an Im­postor instead of a Son, as was pretended, to deprive him and his Lady of their Natural Birth-right. Adding, That he cou'd neither Answer it to God, his Country, his own Conscience, nor his Lady, if he thus suffer'd her to be depriv'd of her Birth-right, by an Impostor.

Having maturely consider'd of these things, and especially of the Danger both Religion and Liberty were in, by these Violent Proceedings of his Father-in-law, and how Dishonourable a thing it wou'd be, to Suffer a Beggars Brat to deprive his Lady of that Inheritance which is her Right; he resolv'd to accept of their Invitation, and at least to reason the Case with his Father-in-law about it.

But knowing well how Deceitful and Trea­cherous [Page 24] he was in all his Actions, he thought it wou'd be a great piece of Imprudence in himself if he shou'd put himself into his Fa­ther's hands; and therefore took along with him several of his best Friends, as well to be a Guard to his Person, as to advise him in any difficult Emergencies that shou'd happen.

He was no sooner come into the County, but the whole County express'd an Extraor­dinary Joy, looking upon him to be (as indeed he was) their Friend and their Deliverer. The first thing he did, upon his coming into the County, was to send a Letter to his Father, to let him know he was coming to wait upon him; and to Endeavour to compose the Dif­ferences that had unhappily fallen out between him and the Free-holders and Gentlemen of the County, and also to Enquire into the Truth of a Report that had been brought to him about the Imposture of his Pretended Son, which he shou'd be very glad to find false.

Upon the receiving of this Letter, the Lord Lieutenant chang'd his Countenance; but when he had read it, and found his Son-in-law had an Account of what had been done, relating to his pretended Son, his Guilt flew in his Face, and he was fill'd with the greatest Con­sternation imaginable; and presently sent away [Page 25] his Lady, and her pretended Son, to his Neigh­bouring Companion in Mischief; by whose ad­vice he had all along steer'd his Course.

The next Day the Lord Lieutenant was in a great agony in himself; the horror of his Wickedness and the just Vengeance due to him on that Account, made him extream Un­easie; so that instead of Adjusting things fairly as his Son-in-law desir'd, (being conscious to himself that he was justly hated by the gene­rality of the People in the County) he rather chose to with-draw himself out of the County, and go after his Lady and her pretended Son, than to look his Son-in-law in the Face, whom he had so much wrong'd.

The News of his having with-drawn him­self out of the County, was no sooner known, but it caus'd a general Rejoycing; (none be­ing sorry for it, but a few beggarly Scoundrels, whom he had made the Instruments of his In­justice and Cruelty; whose chief Sorrow was, that they had now no more opportunity to ruine their Neighbours.) And his Son-in-law having taken Possession of the Estate, which of Right belong'd to him, he was soon after chosen Lord Lieutenant, in the Room of his Father-in-law.

This made the old Lord Lieutenant almost raving Mad, who was still as Wicked as ever, and now Plotted by all the ways and means he cou'd to take away his Life, sometimes by Poy­son, and at other times by Assassinating him as he rid upon the Road; but being the Darling and Peculiar Care of Heaven, he has hitherto been preserv'd, and I hope will always be so, having done nothing but what became an honest and worthy Gentleman: Himself, his Lady, and her Sister, having Justify'd them­selves to be the best of Children, to the worst of Fathers.

As soon as the Gentleman had made an end of this Tale, and we had all shew'd our Re­sentments at the Barbarousness and Cruelty of so unnatural a Father; one that had said nothing all this while, but sat as if he had been asleep, having rous'd up himself, said, Well Gentlemen, I have heard both your Tales, which I take to be one and the same, divers ways told; but you have done neither side that Right, which a Printed Copy of Verses has done, that I found t'other day at the End of a Book; and which for the, Ingenuity of 'em, I committed to Memory; and if you please, Gentlemen, for your further Diversion, I'll Repeat, as well as I can. We were all desirous to hear what they were, and so intreated him to begin. Which he did thus:

The Third Tale.

WHAT I am going to repeat, is call'd A Dialogue between the late King James and King William, after the Battle of the Boyn in Ireland: The Words are these:

King James.
No Injur'd Monarch can his Fate Explore,
A Father, and an Ʋnkle's Right, is more:
Nature pleads here; your Blood is on my side;
Each beating Pulse, and ev'ry Vein's Ally'd:
What Fever then thus boil'd you into Arms?
Is it Religion, or the Crown that charms?
If from my Daughter's Right, your Claim you bring,
She is too Early Queen, whilst I am King.
Your Love to her, you shew by wronging Me;
You praise the Fruit, and yet cut down the Tree:
That Crime Rome blusht to punish, you pursue;
Make it your Conscience, and your Glory too:
Why shou'd you shake my Glass so nearly done?
The Ebbing Sands have but a few to run.
King William.
[Page 28]
I took but up that Crown you durst not wear,
And am Your Conquerour, as well as Heir:
If Right Divine, does unto Kings belong,
Where's the Divine, when once the King does Wrong?
All Monarchs did from Civil Contracts spring,
And he who breaks the Law, Dissolves the King.
Nor can you here a Parent's Right pretend,
For Publick Safety knows no Private Friend:
Thus Generous Pompey for his Countrey drew,
Forgot his Julia, and her Caesar too.
King James,
New Titles may be scaffolded with Laws;
And frothy Monarchs of the Mobs applause,
Accept a Crown on Terms too mean to wear;
Then boast themselves they are the Peoples Heir:
But he that Crowns from Contracts does receive,
Is King at Will, and Governs but by Leave:
A Marble Caesar, 'Pinion'd to a Throne;
The People Regnant, and the Monarch Stone.
King William.
When Men did first their Bruitish Lusts pursue,
And Force alone was all the Law they knew;
When Sense was Guardian, and when Reason Young,
Twas then the Weak submitted to the Strong:
[Page 29]
Thus as the Bull walks Monarch of the Ground,
So Nimrod, Caesar, and the rest were Crown'd:
For he that cou'd Protect, and Conquest bring,
Was from a Captain, ripen'd to a King.
Thus they the People's Safety made their Choice,
And Heaven confirm'd it hy the People's Voice.
When you to Priests and Rome, the Laws Betray'd,
The Injur'd Nation call'd to Me for Aid:
And 'tis their Choice the Noblest Title brings,
For Subjects are the surest Guard to Kings.

When he had made an End of Repeating his Verses, all the Passengers Commended them for Ingenious Lines; and most of us were of Opinion that those attributed to King William were more to the purpose than those of the late King James. Whilst we were thus discoursing of the matter, a Country-like Fel­low amongst us, said, Gentlemen, I have heard your Discourse, but it is above my Under­standing; nor indeed do I love to meddle with Kings and Princes, they are Persons of too high a Quality for me to talk of: And I am sure it wou'd be more to my purpose to talk of the Tilling of my Ground, and the Sowing of my Corn, for that's a thing that will turn to some Account, if GOD send a good Seed-time and Harvest: And yet I am thankful to GOD that has given us such a [Page 30] good King, and can drink his Health as hear­tily as any one; but as to matters of State and Government, that's none of my Business: Let us but serve GOD, and obey the King, and live quietly under his Administration, and I don't doubt but we shall do well enough, without Prescribing Rules to our Superiours: For if the King and Parliament don't know how to order things, I am sure I don't: And now, Gentlemen, since you have been telling Stories, pray give me leave to tell a Story too, but it shall be a very short one. — We were all taken with the Honest Plainness of the Country-man, and bid him go on; which he did thus:

The Fourth Tale. The Traveller and Lyon.

THERE was a certain Traveller that go­ing thorow a Wood saw a huge Lyon ly­ing upon the Ground, which at first put him into a very great fright, but seeing the Lyon lie still, he began to recover himself again, and went nearer him, till at last he got so near that he perceiv'd the Lyon was asleep; upon which, being now grown a little fool-hardy, [Page 31] he surveys him round about, and mightily lik'd his Shaggy Neck and Noble Head, but thought his hinder parts were not so hand­some as they might be made; for he had seen of your Island-Dogs, (which is a Creature very much resembling a Lyon in its shape) and he had oft observ'd that the Shaving or cut­ting off the hair of their hinder parts, made 'em look much more hand some, and therefore they were generally serv'd so: And this Tra­veller being conceited of his own Abilities, and being willing to oblige the Lyon in the same manner, he pulls out his Tackle out of his Pockets, and goes to work accordingly: He had'nt proceeded far in his Business, but the Lyon wakes, and having never been Trim'd before, and not liking of it now, wonder'd at the Impudence of the Traveller, that he shou'd go about to Trim him, without asking his Leave: However, tho' he did'nt set him a work, he was resolv'd to pay him his Wages, and so turning his head about, he gave him a Mortal Gripe, which put an end to his Work and Life together, as a just Reward of his Pre­sumptuous Folly. And thus,

As he that did the Lyon Shave,
Found 'twas a dangerous thing,
So will each bold and sawcy Knave
That meddles with the King.
Let Kings alone in their high Sphere,
And our own Business do:
For things in a false Light appear
Ʋnto the Vulgar's View.
He that presumes to shave the Lyon's skin,
Does little know what Danger he is in.

The Countrey-Man came off with great Ap­plause; and we all concluded he had reason for what he said. — This made another of the Passengers, that had said nothing yet, to tell this following Tale.

The Fifth Tale. The Faithful Shepherd.

AN honest and careful Shepherd, that had the keeping of all the Flocks of Sheep in a Countrey Town, belonging to his Charge, and had approv'd himself for several Years of being very just in Discharge of his Place, whose Industry and Solicitude for the good of his Flock, was equal to his Judgment and Honesty; had certain Intelligence brought him, That there lay abroad not far off, an old Wolf, and [Page 33] a Young Whelp, which they were afraid wou'd make a Ravage upon the Flock of Sheep: The Shepherd began to be concern'd at the News, and was presently for setting his thoughts at work, how he might best preserve his Sheep in case of Danger; and considering the Large­ness of his Flock, and the great Extent and compass of Ground they took up in feeding, he thought it Necessary, to have a Guard of Dogs to attend the Flock for their Preservation from the Out-lying old Wolf, and her Young Whelp: Upon this the Shepherd desires that the Town wou'd Assemble themselves toge­ther, to consider of a Proposal he had to make to 'em for the Safety of the Flocks under his Charge; which accordingly they did; and then the Shepherd gives 'em an Account of the Danger the Flocks were in, by reason of an old Wolf and her Young Whelp, that lay Skulking abroad, and was Watching for an opportunity to come down upon the Flocks and spoil 'em; to prevent which, he desir'd to have a Guard of Twenty Dogs to be al­ways in readiness to resist the Wolf, when­ever she shou'd make any Attack upon the Sheep.

This Proposal was canvass'd by the Towns-folks, some being for it, and others being a­gainst it: Those that were for it, urg'd that the [Page 34] Proposal was highly reasonable; and that those justly deserv'd to lose their Sheep, that refus'd to be at the charge of a Guard to defend 'em in time of Danger▪ And that it was impossible that the Shepherd's Dog he had already (who was as old and feeble as a London-Watchman) cou'd preserve so great a Flock from the Wolf, in case she shou'd set upon 'em: Those that were against it, Reply'd, That the Demand of so great a Guard was unreasonable; and that seeing the Wolf abroad had yet made no Attempt to come down-upon the Sheep, why shou'd they so much fear her now? And that for their parts, if such a Number of Dogs shou'd be rais'd for the Security of the Sheep, they shou'd be more apprehensive of danger from them, than from the Wolf: 'Tis true, they knew the Shepherd was careful and honest, but they did not know what the Dogs might be; and therefore were very unwilling to have so great a Number rais'd, and that Ten was more than wou'd be needful. To this the other Party reply'd, That as long as they were assur'd of the honesty of the Shepherd, they had no reason to be afraid of the Number of Dogs; besides, the Flock consisting of above Twenty Thousand Sheep, Twenty Dogs were as few as cou'd be thought on to preserve 'em: And to say, That the Wolf had made no Attempt to come down upon 'em yet, was no argument at [Page 35] all that she wou'd not; and that it might more reasonably be thought, That because she had not yet, therefore she wou'd, as soon as she found an Opportunity: Upon the whole mat­ter, it was at last carried in the Affirmative, That the Dogs shou'd be rais'd, and the Shep­herd have the Guard he desir'd: And they were rais'd accordingly; and with their Noise and Number so affrighted the Wolf, that she never offer'd to make any Attempt upon the Sheep; but in a short time after, the Dogs being a little sharp set, fell upon the Sheep themselves; and would make nothing to devour half a score, and sometimes twenty in a Night: This occasion'd horrid complaints to be made against the Dogs to the Shepherd by the Townsmen; but the Dogs being slush'd and fatten'd with sucking the Sheep's Blood, r [...] fus'd to be commanded by the Shepherd, and wou'd do only what they pleas'd themselves: This mightily troubled the Shepherd, who was so much concern'd at it, that he desir'd another Meeting of the Towns-folks, and there laying the Exorbitant Carriage of the Dogs before 'em, they order'd 'em to be immedi­ately suppress'd, chusing rather to run the hazard of the Wolves coming upon the Sheep, than to have 'em certainly devour'd by their own Dogs.

[Page 36]
Some, that they Sylla's Rock may Shun,
Do on Charibda straight-way run.
And of two Evils, each one knows,
The least is always to be chose:
Better let Foes beyond-sea Roam,
Than be destroy'd by Friends at home.

This Tale was no sooner told, but a Kentish-Man in the Boat said, I don't care if I tell you one Tale, but it shall be a Merry one: Where­upon he thus began.

The Sixth Tale. Of a Widow and her Son.

A Thrifty staid Batchelour in our County took his Mother, being a Widow, to keep his house, and so they liv'd together; yet his Mother had a great mind to see her Son Married, telling him he wou'd never be settled till he had a good Wife: But he usually answer'd his Mo­ther, that he had no mind to Marry, and as long as he had her Company to look after his House, he was very well satisfied: But as continual Dropping will make an Impression upon a Stone, so his Mothers continual Solicitations made him at last have a desire to Marry, if he [Page 37] cou'd light of a good Wife: This his Mother promis'd to hearken out for him; and in a little time she was as good as her Word, having heard of a young handsome Widow, and rich withal: To this Widow she takes her Son, who sees her and likes her; and she gave him leave to make his Addresses to her, with some hopes of Success: In prosecution of which Amour, he rises betimes one Morning, takes his Horse, and goes to make the young Widow a Visit; but she not expecting him so soon, he was surpriz'd to find her in Bed with another Man, as he did; but so as his Mistress had no knowledge of it; and so without speaking a Word he went away again, and rides directly to his Sisters, to make his complaint of his ill Luck to her, whose Husband he knew was gone a Journey Forty Miles beyond London the day before: When he came to his Sisters, he finds the door open, and so goes into the Kitchin, but seeing no Body there, he goes to the Par­lour where she lay, and the Door standing a Char, as we say in the Country, he Peeps in, and sees a Man in Bed with his Sister, doing Business there; he was once about going in, but Shame and Grief prevented him; and so shut­ting the Door, away he goes from thence, and rides to Maidstone, where meeting with several of his Acquaintance, he falls a Drinking to drive Care away, if he could; and stays there till 12 a Clock at Night; but says nothing to any one [Page 38] of what he had seen that Morning, either with respect to his Sweet-heart, or his Sister.

Being come home, he finds the Family all in Bed; and being unwilling to disturb 'em, puts his Horse to Grass, and gets into the Barn, and lays himself down upon the Straw, and being weary, and having drank hard, falls fast asleep till Morning. At which time the Thresher comes into the Barn, and falls to Threshing as hard as he could; but did not see him, who lay at the End of the Barn, with a heap of Straw between, which hinder'd the Thresher from seeing him. About an hour after, comes in his Mother, with a Tankard of Ale, and a Toast and Cheese, which the Thresher and she Eat and Drank together, and afterwards he laid her upon the Straw, and there gave her what she wanted: The Son being a witness of this, was so troubled he was like a Man distracted; but still kept himself privat. At last the Thresher going out of the Barn about some Business, he steps out, and goes into the House as if but new come home, and sits himself down by the Fire side in a Melancholly posture; whereupon his Mother asks him what's the matter? He falls a railing upon Women at a great rate: She de­sires to know the occasion, and asks him whe­ther his Mistress was not kind to him? He re­plies No; but he had seen her very kind to somebody else; and then tells her, he had seen [Page 39] her a Bed with another Man: At this the Mo­ther call'd her a hundred Whores, and seem'd mighty glad that he had discover'd it; and told him he had no reason to be troubled for that, as long as it was found out; and that she wou'd provide a better Wife for him, for she wou'd'nt for never so much have a Whore in their Fa­mily, which had always kept it self clear and unspotted: The Son then told her that was'nt all his Trouble, for there was something else that was worse, troubled him; and his Mother being very solicitous to know what that was, he told her, That riding to see his Sister, to make his Complaint to her, he had also found a Man a Bed with her, his Brother being gone beyond London: Out upon her for a Whore, crys the Mother, to bring our Family into Dis­grace thus! Well, I'll never own her for my Daughter more; with many other words to the same purpose. Then the Son told her, that was'nt all his Trouble neither; for coming home Early this Morning (says he) from Maid­stone, and being loth to disturb you, I turn'd my Horse to Grass, and went into the Barn, and fell asleep upon the Straw; and about Eight a Clock I saw you come in with a Toast and Ale to the Thresher, which you and he Drank up together; and then he laid you down upon the Straw, and you know what he did there, as well as I can tell you? And did you see that [Page 40] too? Says his Mother: Yes, that I did, said he: Well then, says she, go your ways, and Marry your Sweet-heart, and make no words on't; for I tell you, They'll all do't; they'll all do't, as soon as they have Time and Opportunity.

This Justifies the Proverb; still the worst
And greatest Whore of all, will cry Whore first:
And when she's caught, and most of all put to't,
She pleads for an Excuse, They all will do't.
If that be true, what shall a Man say more?
If all will do't, then every one's a Whore.
But you will say, All to Condemn 'tis hard;
Those that are honest ought to have regard:
With all my heart; to that I'll say Amen.
But if they'll all do't, Pray who's honest then?

This Story made us all Laugh; & Encourag'd another Passenger to tell that which follows.

The Seventh Tale. Of the Ass and the Schollar.

A Country Gentleman of a good Estate, of all sorts of Creatures lov'd Asses best; (and some have not been afraid to say, He was an Ass for his Pains) but whether that be [Page 41] true or no, I won't determine; but the Tale I am going to tell you is matter of Fact; which is, That a certain Countrey Gentlemen lov'd Asses above any other sort of Creatures, fanci­ed an Ass to be the handsomest, and to have the most pleasant Voice; and accordingly gave order to his Servants that they shou'd have the best Provision and Looking to, and wou'd always chuse to be in their Company (perhaps as being fittest for him) so that the dull lazy Asses were fat and plump, and in good case, and look'd as Bluff as a Dutch Butter-Box: It happen'd that a Poor Schollar coming that way, and by the Largeness of the Mansion-House, guessing there was as large a Soul inhabited within, he made up to it, and coming into the Court, ask'd a Person with a fine Out-side, Who it was that liv'd in that House? The Man told him, A Lover of Asses; I thought so, reply'd the Schollar, by your being so fine. If you won't a Cox-comb, return'd the fine Gentle­man, you'd be an Ass too, and then you might be as fine as I: For none but Asses are respect­ed. If that be true, said the Schollar, I'll e'en burn my Books, and go to play; or if I Study, it shall be how to be an Ass, that I may get Preferment.

Sure now the World's come to a pleasant pass,
When men must Study how to play the Ass:
[Page 42]
And yet there's reason for't, because we see
Asses most fit for all Employments be.
If Asses therefore ben't accounted best,
Why are they still preferr'd above the rest?
But yet an Ass so base a Creature is,
I'll be no Ass, tho' I Preferment miss.

The Eighth Tale. Of the Mayor and the Kings Ape.

SOme few years ago, there was a fellow that wore the Kings Cypher and Crown upon his Coat, with the Two Letters of the Kings Name; this Fellow had a Warrant from the Master of the Revels to Travel throughout England with a fine Ape that he had, which cou'd dance, and do several Feats of Activity, whereby he got his Living by showing him at Markets and Fairs: and this Ape always rid upon a Mastiff Dog, and a Man with a Drum to attend him.

It happened that these four Travellers came to a Town call'd Looe in Cornwal; where the Inn being taken, the Drum went about to sig­nifie to the People that at such an Inn was an Ape of great Quality, and extraordinary Ver­tue, if they pleas'd to bestow their Money and Time to see him. But the Townsmen being for the most part Fisher-men, and other Pain­ful and Laborious Callings, had no leisure to [Page 43] waste either Time or Money to see an Ape shew Tricks, so that no Audience came to the Inn, to the great Disappointment of the Jack­an-Apes and his Master: Who finding himself like to be a Loser, Resolv'd to put a Trick upon the Town, let the Issue be what it wou'd. Whereupon he call'd for a Pen, Ink, and Pa­per, and Writ the following Warrant to the Mayor of the Town:

These are to will and require you, and every of you, with your Wives and Families, that upon the sight hereof, you make your Personal Appearance before the King's Ape; for it is an Ape of Rank and Quality, who is to be practised through his Majesties Dominions, that by his long Experience among his Majesties Subjects, he may be the better Enabled to do his Majesty Service hereafter; and hereof fail you not, as you will answer the Contrary, &c.

This Warrant being brought to the Mayor, he sent for a Shoe-maker at the farther end of the Town to read it: Which when he heard, he sent for all his Brethren, who went with him to the Town-Hall, to consult what to do in this weighty Business, where after they had sat a Quarter of an hour, no Man saying any thing, nor any Man knowing what to say; at last a young Man that never had born any Office, said, Gentlemen, if I were fit to speak, I think (without offence, under the Correcti­on [Page 44] of the Worshipful) I should soon decide this Business; to whom the Mayor said, I pray, good Neighbour speak; for tho' you never did bear any Office here, yet you may speak as Wisely as some of us; Then, Sir, said the Young Man, My opinion is, That this Ape-Carrier is a scoffing gybing Knave; and one that designs to make this worthy Corporation a meer Laughing-stock through-out the whole Kingdom; for was it ever known that a fellow shou'd be so Impudently Audacious as to send a Warrant without either Name or Date, to a Mayor of a Town, to the King's Lieutenant, and that he with his Brethren, their Wives and Families, shou'd be all commanded to come before a Jackanapes? This is against the Liber­ty of the Subject; and I am sure our gra­cious King, who is in all respects so tender of his Peoples Liberties, wou'd never grant such a Warrant. My Counsel therefore is, That you take him and his Ape, with his Man and his Dog, and whip the whole Crew of 'em out of Town: Which I think will be much for your Credit; for he deserves to be pun­ish'd that dares Counterfeit the Kings Warrant.

At these Words, a grave Man of the Town, who seem'd to be in a great Passion, said, My Friend, you have spoken little better than Treason; for it is the Kings Ape; and there­fore beware what you say: For had it been in [Page 45] the late Reigns, you might have been fairly hang'd for it, and this Corporation have lost their Charter for hearing you: You say true, said Mr. Mayor, with a great deal of Indig­nation; I wonder who bid that saucy Fellow come into our Company? And what had you to do among us? For you never bore any Office, and that's a sign by your wise Speech: You are a fine Counsellor indeed, to advise us to whip the King's Ape! The Rogue had a mind to have us all hang'd! Get you out of my sight, Sirrah! For I cann't be well while you're here. So away went poor Peel-Garlick; for he was no Company for them. He being gone, Well, says Mr. Mayor, what's now to be done in this matter? Marry, says another Senior, we may see by the Crown upon his Coat, that he's one of the Kings Servants, and who knows what Power a Knave may have in the Court, to do poor Men wrong in the Country? Let us go and see the Ape: It is but two pence a piece; no doubt but it will be well taken: And if it comes to the Kings Ear, he will think us good Subjects that will shew so much duty to his Ape: What may he think we wou'd do to his Bears, if they shou'd come hither? Besides, it is above Two Hun­dred Miles to London, and if we shou'd be complain'd on, and be fetch'd with Pursivants, (whereas now every Man may escape for his [Page 46] Two-Pence) I'll warrant it wou'd cost us ten Groats a piece at the least.

This Counsel, being grounded upon so much reason, past currant, and all the whole Drove of the Towns-men; with their Wives and Children, went ro see the Ape, who was sitting on a Table with a Chain about his Neck: To whom Mr. Mayor (because he was the King's Ape) put off his Hat, and made a Leg; but Jack let him pass unre­garded; But Mrs. Mayoress coming next in her clean Linnen, laid her hands before her Belly, and like a Wo­man of good Breeding, made a low Courtsie; whilst Jack (still Courtier-like) though he respected not the Mayor, yet to shew his kindness for his Wife, he put forth his paw towards her, and made a Mouth; which Mrs. Mayo­ress perceiving, said, Husband, I think in my Conscience that the King's Ape doth Mock me; Whereat Jack made another Mouth at her: Which Mr. Mayor espying, Was very angry, saying, Sirrah, thou Ape, I do see thy sawci­ness, and if the rest of the Courtiers have no more man­ners than thou hast, they have all been better fed than taught: How thou camest to be the Kings Ape, I know not; for I believe thou art a Jacobite in thy heart, or else thou wouldest behave thy self with more Reverence be­fore his Lieutenant: And I will make thee know before thou goest hence, That this Woman is my Wife, and an Ancient Woman, and a Midwife, and one that might have been thy Mother for Age.

In this rage, Mr. Mayor went to the Inn-Door, where the Jack-an Apes's Master was gathering Money as fast as he cou'd: To whom Mr. Mayor said, Sir, Do you allow your Ape to abuse my Wife? No, Sir, said he, by no means: Why truly Sir, said the Mayor, there is Witness enough within, that have seen him make Mops and Mows at her, as if she were not worthy to wipe his Shoes; and I will not so put it up: Upon which, the Apes Master reply'd, Sir, I will presently give him Condign Punishment; and straight he took his Whip into his hand, and holding the [Page 47] Ape by the Chain, he gave him half a dozen such Jerks as made the Apes Teeth to chatter in his Head, like so many Virginal-Jacks: Which Mr. Mayor perceiving, ran to him, and held his hands, saying, Enough, enough, good Sir; You have done like a Gentleman; let me intreat you not to give Correction in your Wrath: And I pray you and your Ape, after the Play is done, to come to my House, and Sup with me and my Wife, where you shall be very Welcome.

When once a Fool rules in a Corporation,
He makes himself the By-word of the Nation.

The Ninth Tale. Of the Country-Man and the Physician.

A Country-man and Neighbour of mine, that lives near Sittenburn, had a Wife that was always out of or­der, and never well, (which had reduc'd the poor Man to a very low Condition.) Once she perswaded her Husband (who was a very ignorant Man) to carry her Water to a Doctor, new come into those parts, of great Reputation for many Remarkable Cures said to be by him perform'd. Ac­cordingly the Husband goes one Morning with her Water, and being had into the Room where he was, Good mor­row to your Worship Master Confusion, says he; Physitian, thou wou'dst say, said the Doctor: Truly, said the Coun­try-Man, I am no Schollard, but altogether unrude, and ingrum, and my Wife having piss'd in a Pottle-Pot, I have brought it to your Doctorship, beseeching you to taste her Water: So the Doctor took the Water and put it into an Urinal, and having view'd it, he said, My Friend I find thy Wife is very weak; I found that my self long ago, said the Country-Man, for I have kept a wench this Quarter of a Year, to lead her up and down the House; I did'nt bring her Water to know that. Was you ever with any Doctor before, says the Physitian? Yes, indeed, Sir, says he, with many a one, to my cost: What did they tell you her [Page 48] Distemper was, says the Doctor? Truly Sir, they tell me she's in a Presumption; Consumption, thou shou'dst say, said the Doctor: I told you before, said the Country-Man, I didn't understand your allegant Speeches; but I believe yow'n speak true enough; for she has well nigh consum'd all that ever I had: Well, said the Doctor, but does she keep her Bed? No truly Sir, said the Country-Man, for being hard put to't for Money, I was fain to sell her Bed a Fortnight ago. Is'nt she very costive, said the Doctor? Costly, says the Country-man? Your Worship's in the right on't there, indeed; for she has Cost me all that I have upon her already: Said, the Doctor, You mistake me, Friend, I don't say Costly, but Costive; I mean is she loose or bound? Indeed Sir, said the Country-man, she's bound to me during term of Life: And I am bound to her too, the more's my Sorrow. I but prethee, says the Doctor, tell me plainly, how does she go to Stool? Just as she goes to a Chair, Sir, says he: I am fain to have one to lead her: Pshaw! says the Doctor, thou do'st not apprehend me yet; I see I must be plain, to make thee understand; how does she go to Shit? Why truly Sir, says he, as other Folks do; the Backward way; she has a free Passage behind still: But I mean, says the Doctor, almost angry, is it thick or thin? O, as to that, says he, in the Morning 'tis so thick you may cut it with a Knife; and at Night 'tis so thin, your Worship may Eat it with a spoon.

Altho the Clown and Doctor disagree,
Both Fool and Knave the one and th' other be.

These Tales made the Time pass away so pleasantly, that we were arriv'd at Graves-end sooner than we expe­cted: Which hinder'd some Passengers from Telling other Pleasant Stories. But several of us being to return to London again in a day or two, We promiss'd one another, that if we shou'd be so happy as to meet together again, we wou'd then renew our Conversation.

FINIS.

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