The Colloquies of Erasmus, Volume I

THE HORSE-CHEAT

The Horse-Cheat lays open the cheating Tricks of those that sell or let out Horses to hire; and shews how those Cheats themselves are sometimes cheated.

AULUS, PHÆDRUS.

Good God! What a grave Countenance our Phaedrus has put on, gaping ever and anon into the Air. I'll attack him. Phaedrus, what News to Day?

Ph. Why do you ask me that Question, Aulus?

Aul. Because, of a Phaedrus, you seem to have become a Cato, there is so much Sourness in your Countenance.

Ph. That's no Wonder, my Friend, I am just come from Confession.

Aul. Nay, then my Wonder's over; but tell me upon your honest Word, did you confess all?

Ph. All that I could remember, but one.

Aul. And why did you reserve that one?

Ph. Because I can't be out of Love with it.

Aul. It must needs be some pleasant Sin.

Ph. I can't tell whether it is a Sin or no; but if you are at Leisure, you shall hear what it is.

Aul. I would be glad to hear it, with all my Heart.

Ph. You know what cheating Tricks are play'd by our Jockeys, who sell and let out Horses.

Aul. Yes, I know more of them than I wish I did, having been cheated by them more than once.

Ph. I had Occasion lately to go a pretty long Journey, and I was in great Haste; I went to one that you would have said was none of the worst of 'em, and there was some small Matter of Friendship between us. I told him I had an urgent Business to do, and had Occasion for a strong able Gelding; desiring, that if he would ever be my Friend in any Thing, he would be so now. He promised me, that he would use me as kindly as if I were his own dear Brother.

Aul. It may be he would have cheated his Brother.

Ph. He leads me into the Stable, and bids me chuse which I would out of them all. At last I pitch'd upon one that I lik'd better than the rest. He commends my Judgment, protesting that a great many Persons had had a Mind to that Horse; but he resolved to keep him rather for a singular Friend, than sell him to a Stranger. I agreed with him as to the Price, paid him down his Money, got upon the Horse's Back. Upon the first setting out, my Steed falls a prancing; you would have said he was a Horse of Mettle; he was plump, and in good Case: But, by that Time I had rid him an Hour and a half, I perceiv'd he was downright tir'd, nor could I by spurring him, get him any further. I had heard that such Jades had been kept for Cheats, that you would take by their Looks to be very good Horses; but were worth nothing for Service. I says to myself presently, I am caught. But when I come Home again, I will shew him Trick for Trick.

Aul. But what did you do in this Case, being a Horseman without a Horse?

Ph. I did what I was oblig'd to do. I turn'd into the next Village, and there I set my Horse up privately, with an Acquaintance, and hired another, and prosecuted my Journey; and when I came back, I return'd my hired Horse, and finding my own in very good Case, and thoroughly rested, I mounted his Back, and rid back to the Horse-Courser, desiring him to set him up for a few Days, till I called for him again. He ask'd me how well he carry'd me; I swore by all that was good, that I never bestrid a better Nag in my Life, that he flew rather than walk'd, nor ever tir'd the least in the World in all so long a Journey, nor was a Hair the leaner for it. I having made him believe that these Things were true, he thought with himself, he had been mistaken in this Horse; and therefore, before I went away, he ask'd me if I would sell the Horse. I refus'd at first; because if I should have Occasion to go such another Journey, I should not easily get the Fellow of him; but however, I valued nothing so much, but I would sell it, if I could have a good Price for it, altho' any Body had a Mind to buy myself.

Aul. This was fighting a Man with his own Weapons.

Ph. In short, he would not let me go away, before I had set a Price upon him. I rated him at a great Deal more than he cost me. Being gone, I got an Acquaintance to act for me, and gave him Instructions how to behave himself: He goes to the House, and calls for the Horse-Courser, telling him, that he had Occasion for a very good, and a very hardy Nag. The Horse-Courser shews him a great many Horses, still commending the worst most of all; but says not a Word of that Horse he had sold me, verily believing he was such as I had represented him. My Friend presently ask'd whether that was not to be sold; for I had given him a Description of the Horse, and the Place where he stood. The Horse-Courser at first made no Answer, but commended the rest very highly. The Gentleman lik'd the other Horses pretty well; but always treated about that very Horse: At last thinks the Horse-Courser with himself, I have certainly been out in my Judgment as to this Horse, if this Stranger could presently pick this Horse out of so many. He insisting upon it, He may be sold, says he; but it may be, you'll be frighted at the Price. The Price, says he, is a Case of no great Importance, if the Goodness of the Thing be answerable: Tell me the Price. He told him something more than I had set him at to him, getting the Overplus to himself. At last the Price was agreed on, and a good large Earnest was given, a Ducat of Gold to bind the Bargain. The Purchaser gives the Hostler a Groat, orders him to give his Horse some Corn, and he would come by and by, and fetch him. As soon as ever I heard the Bargain was made so firmly, that it could not be undone again, I go immediately, booted and spurr'd to the Horse-Courser, and being out of Breath, calls for my Horse. He comes and asks what I wanted: Says I, get my Horse ready presently, for I must be gone this Moment, upon an extraordinary Affair: But, says he, you bid me keep the Horse a few Days: That's true, said I, but this Business has happened unexpectedly, and it is the King's Business, and it will admit of no Delay. Says he, take your Choice, which you will of all my Horses; you cannot have your own. I ask'd him, why so? Because, says he, he is sold. Then I pretended to be in a great Passion; God forbid, says I; as this Journey has happen'd, I would not sell him, if any Man would offer me four Times his Price. I fell to wrangling, and cry out, I am ruin'd: At Length he grew a little warm too: What Occasion is there for all this Contention: You set a Price upon your Horse, and I have sold him; if I pay you your Money, you have nothing more to do to me; we have Laws in this City, and you can't compel me to produce the Horse. When I had clamoured a good While, that he would either produce the Horse, or the Man that bought him: He at last pays me down the Money in a Passion. I had bought him for fifteen Guineas, I set him to him at twenty six, and he had valued him at thirty two, and so computed with himself he had better make that Profit of him, than restore the Horse. I go away, as if I was vex'd in my Mind, and scarcely pacified, tho' the Money was paid me: He desires me not to take it amiss, he would make me Amends some other Way: So I bit the Biter: He has a Horse not worth a Groat; he expected that he that had given him the Earnest, should come and pay him the Money; but no Body came, nor ever will come.

Aul. But in the mean Time, did he never expostulate the Matter with you?

Ph. With what Face or Colour could he do that? I have met him over and over since, and he complain'd of the Unfairness of the Buyer: But I often reason'd the Matter with him, and told him, he deserv'd to be so serv'd, who by his hasty Sale of him, had depriv'd me of my Horse. This was a Fraud so well plac'd, in my Opinion, that I could not find in my Heart to confess it as a Fault.

Aul. If I had done such a Thing, I should have been so far from confessing it as a Fault, that I should have requir'd a Statue for it.

Ph. I can't tell whether you speak as you think or no; but you set me agog however, to be paying more of these Fellows in their own Coin.

THE BEGGARS DIALOGUE

The Beggars Dialogue paints out the cheating, crafty Tricks of Beggars, who make a Shew of being full of Sores, and make a Profession of Palmistry, and other Arts by which they impose upon many Persons. Nothing is more like Kingship, than the Life of a Beggar.

IRIDES, MISOPONUS.

Ir. What new Sort of Bird is this I see flying here? I know the Face, but the Cloaths don't suit it. If I'm not quite mistaken, this is Misoponus. I'll venture to speak to him, as ragged as I am. God save you, Misoponus.

Mis. Hold your Tongue, I say.

Ir. What's the Matter, mayn't a Body salute you?

Mis. Not by that Name.

Ir. Why, what has happen'd to you? Are you not the same Man that you was? What, have you changed your Name with your Cloaths?

Mis. No, but I have taken up my old Name again.

Ir. Who was you then?

Mis. Apitius.

Ir. Never be asham'd of your old Acquaintance, if any Thing of a better Fortune has happen'd to you. It is not long since you belong'd to our Order.

Mis. Prithee, come hither, and I'll tell you the whole Story. I am not asham'd of your Order; but I am asham'd of the Order that I was first of myself.

Ir. What Order do you mean? That of the Franciscans?

Mis. No, by no Means, my good Friend; but the Order of the Spendthrifts.

Ir. In Truth, you have a great many Companions of that Order.

Mis. I had a good Fortune, I spent lavishly, and when I began to be in Want, no Body knew Apitius. I ran away for Shame, and betook myself to your College: I lik'd that better than digging.

Ir. Very wisely done; but how comes your Body to be in so good Case of late? For as to your Change of Cloaths, I don't so much wonder at that.

Mis. Why so?

Ir. Because the Goddess Laverna makes many rich on a sudden.

Mis. What! do you think I got an Estate by Thieving then?

Ir. Nay, perhaps more idly, by Rapine.

Mis. No, I swear by your Goddess Penia, neither by Thieving, nor by Rapine. But first I'll satisfy you as to the State of my Body, which seems to you to be the most admirable.

Ir. For when you were with us, you were all over full of Sores.

Mis. But I have since made Use of a very friendly Physician.

Ir. Who?

Mis. No other Person but myself, unless you think any Body is more friendly to me, than I am to myself.

Ir. But I never knew you understood Physick before.

Mis. Why all that Dress was nothing but a Cheat I had daub'd on with Paints, Frankincense, Brimstone, Rosin, Birdlime, and Clouts dipp'd in Blood; and what I put on, when I pleas'd I took off again.

Ir. O Impostor! Nothing appear'd more miserable than you were. You might have acted the Part of Job in a Tragedy.

Mis. My Necessity made me do it, though Fortune sometimes is apt to change the Skin too.

Ir. Well then, tell me of your Fortune. Have you found a Treasure?

Mis. No; but I have found out a Way of getting Money that's a little better than yours.

Ir. What could you get Money out of, that had no Stock?

Mis. An Artist will live any where.

Ir. I understand you now, you mean the Art of picking Pockets.

Mis. Not so hard upon me, I pray; I mean the Art of Chymistry.

Ir. Why 'tis scarce above a Fortnight, since you went away from us, and have you in that Time learn'd an Art, that others can hardly learn in many Years?

Mis. But I have got a shorter Way.

Ir. Prithee, what Way?

Mis. When I had gotten almost four Guineas by your Art, I happened, as good Luck would have it, to fall into the Company of an old Companion of mine, who had manag'd his Matters in the World no better than I had done. We went to drink together; he began, as the common Custom is, to tell of his Adventures. I made a Bargain with him to pay his Reckoning, upon Condition that he should faithfully teach me his Art. He taught it me very honestly, and now 'tis my Livelihood.

Ir. Mayn't a Body learn it?

Mis. I'll teach it you for nothing, for old Acquaintance Sake. You know, that there are every where a great many that are very fond of this Art.

Ir. I have heard so, and I believe it is true.

Mis. I take all Opportunities of insinuating myself into their Acquaintance, and talk big of my Art, and where-ever I find an hungry Sea-Cob, I throw him out a Bait.

Ir. How do you do that?

Mis. I caution him by all Means, not rashly to trust Men of that Profession, for that they are most of them Cheats, that by their hocus pocus Tricks, pick the Pockets of those that are not cautious.

Ir. That Prologue is not fit for your Business.

Mis. Nay, I add this further, that I would not have them believe me myself, unless they saw the Matter plainly with their own Eyes, and felt it with their Hands.

Ir. You speak of a wonderful Confidence you have in your Art.

Mis. I bid them be present all the While the Metamorphosis is under the Operation, and to look on very attentively, and that they may have the less Reason to doubt, to perform the whole Operation with their own Hands, while I stand at a Distance, and don't so much as put my Finger to it. I put them to refine the melted Matter themselves, or carry it to the Refiners to be done; I tell them beforehand, how much Silver or Gold it will afford: And in the last Place, I bid them carry the melted Mass to several Goldsmiths, to have it try'd by the Touchstone. They find the exact Weight that I told them; they find it to be the finest Gold or Silver, it is all one to me which it is, except that the Experiment in Silver is the less chargeable to me.

Ir. But has your Art no Cheat in it?

Mis. It is a mere Cheat all over.

Ir. I can't see where the Cheat lies.

Mis. I'll make you see it presently. I first make a Bargain for my Reward, but I won't be paid before I have given a Proof of the Thing itself: I give them a little Powder, as though the whole Business was effected by the Virtue of that; but I never tell them how to make it, except they purchase it at a very great Price. And I make them take an Oath, that for six Months they shall not discover the Secret to any Body living.

Ir. But I han't heard the Cheat yet.

Mis. The whole Mystery lies in one Coal, that I have prepared for this Purpose. I make a Coal hollow, and into it I pour melted Silver, to the Quantity I tell them before-Hand will be produc'd. And after the Powder is put in, I set the Pot in such a Manner, that it is cover'd all over, above, beneath, and Sides, with Coals, and I persuade them, that the Art consists in that; among those Coals that are laid at Top, I put in one that has the Silver or Gold in it, that being melted by the Heat of the Fire, falls down among the other Metal, which melts, as suppose Tin or Brass, and upon the Separation, it is found and taken out.

Ir. A ready Way; but, how do you manage the Fallacy, when another does it all with his own Hands?

Mis. When he has done every Thing, according to my Direction, before the Crucible is stirr'd, I come and look about, to see if nothing has been omitted, and then I say, that there seems to want a Coal or two at the Top, and pretending to take one out of the Coal-Heap, I privately lay on one of my own, or have laid it there ready before-Hand, which I can take, and no Body know any Thing of the Matter.

Ir. But when they try to do this without you, and it does not succeed, what Excuse have you to make?

Mis. I'm safe enough when I have got my Money. I pretend one Thing or other, either that the Crucible was crack'd, or the Coals naught, or the Fire not well tempered. And in the last Place, one Part of the Mystery of my Profession is, never to stay long in the same Place.

Ir. And is there so much Profit in this Art as to maintain you?

Mis. Yes, and nobly too: And I would have you, for the future, if you are wise, leave off that wretched Trade of Begging, and follow ours.

Ir. Nay, I should rather chuse to bring you back to our Trade.

Mis. What, that I should voluntarily return again to that I have escap'd from, and forsake that which I have found profitable?

Ir. This Profession of ours has this Property in it, that it grows pleasant by Custom. And thence it is, that tho' many have fallen off from the Order of St. Francis or St. Benedict, did you ever know any that had been long in our Order, quit it? For you could scarce taste the Sweetness of Beggary in so few Months as you follow'd it.

Mis. That little Taste I had of it taught me, that it was the most wretched Life in Nature.

Ir. Why does no Body quit it then?

Mis. Perhaps, because they are naturally wretched.

Ir. I would not change this Wretchedness, for the Fortune of a King. For there is nothing more like a King, than the Life of a Beggar.

Mis. What strange Story do I hear? Is nothing more like Snow than a Coal?

Ir. Wherein consists the greatest Happiness of Kings?

Mis. Because in that they can do what they please.

Ir. As for that Liberty, than which nothing is sweeter, we have more of it than any King upon Earth; and I don't doubt, but there are many Kings that envy us Beggars. Let there be War or Peace we live secure, we are not press'd for Soldiers, nor put upon Parish-Offices, nor taxed. When the People are loaded with Taxes, there's no Scrutiny into our Way of Living. If we commit any Thing that is illegal, who will sue a Beggar? If we beat a Man, he will be asham'd to fight with a Beggar? Kings can't live at Ease neither in War or in Peace, and the greater they are, the greater are their Fears. The common People are afraid to offend us, out of a certain Sort of Reverence, as being consecrated to God.

Mis. But then, how nasty are ye in your Rags and Kennels?

Ir. What do they signify to real Happiness. Those Things you speak of are out of a Man. We owe our Happiness to these Rags.

Mis. But I am afraid a good Part of your Happiness will fail you in a short Time.

Ir. How so?

Mis. Because I have heard a Talk in the Cities, that there will be a Law, that Mendicants shan't be allow'd to stroll about at their Pleasure, but every City shall maintain its own Poor; and that they that are able shall be made to work.

Ir. What Reason have they for this?

Mis. Because they find great Rogueries committed under Pretence of Begging, and that there are great Inconveniencies arise to the Publick from your Order.

Ir. Ay, I have heard these Stones Time after Time, and they'll bring it about when the Devil's blind.

Mis. Perhaps sooner than you'd have it.

THE FABULOUS FEAST

The fabulous Feast contains various Stories and pleasant Tales. Maccus puts a Trick upon a Shoe-maker. A Fruiterer is put upon about her Figs. A very clever Cheat of a Priest, in relation to Money. Lewis the Eleventh, King of France, eats some of a Country-Man's Turnips, and gives him 1000 Crowns for an extraordinary large one that he made a Present of to him. A certain Man takes a Louse off of the King's Garment, and the King gives him 40 Crowns for it. The Courtiers are trick'd. One asks for an Office, or some publick Employment. To deny a Kindness presently, is to bestow a Benefit. Maximilian was very merciful to his Debtors. An old Priest Cheats an Usurer. Anthony salutes one upon letting a Fart, saying the Backside was the cleanest Part of the Body.

POLYMYTHUS, GELASINUS, EUTRAPELUS, ASTÆUS, PHILYTHLUS, PHILOGELOS, EUGLOTTUS, LEROCHARES, ADOLESCHES, LEVINUS.

Pol. As it is unfitting for a well order'd City to be without Laws and without a Governor; so neither ought a Feast to be without Orders and a President.

Ge. If I may speak for the rest, I like it very well.

Po. Soho, Sirrah! bring hither the Dice, the Matter shall be determin'd by their Votes; he shall be our President that Jupiter shall favour. O brave! Eutrapelus has it, the fittest Man that could be chosen, if we had every individual Man of us thrown. There is an usual Proverb, that has more Truth in't than good Latin, Novus Rex nova Lex, New Lords new Laws. Therefore, King, make thou Laws.

Eut. That this may be a merry and happy Banquet, in the first Place I command, that no Man tell a Story but what is a ridiculous one. He that shall have no Story to tell, shall pay a Groat, to be spent in Wine; and Stories invented extempore shall be allow'd as legitimate, provided Regard be had to Probability and Decency. If no Body shall want a Story, let those two that tell, the one the pleasantest, and the other the dullest, pay for Wine. Let the Master of the Feast be at no Charge for Wine, but only for the Provisions of the Feast. If any Difference about this Matter shall happen, let Gelasinus be Judge. If you agree to these Conditions, let 'em be ratified. He that won't observe the Orders, let him be gone, but with Liberty to come again to a Collation the next Day.

Ge. We give our Votes for the Passing the Bill our King has brought in. But who must tell the first Story?

Eut. Who should, but the Master of the Feast?

As. But, Mr. King, may I have the liberty to speak three Words?

Eut. What, do you take the Feast to be an unlucky one?

As. The Lawyers deny that to be Law that is not just.

Eut. I grant it.

As. Your Law makes the best and worst Stories equal.

Eut. Where Diversion is the Thing aim'd at, there he deserves as much Commendation who tells the worst, as he that tells the best Story, because it affords as much Merriment; as amongst Songsters none are admir'd but they that sing very well, or they that sing very ill. Do not more laugh to hear the Cuckoo than to hear the Nightingal? In this Case Mediocrity is not Praise-worthy.

As. But pray, why must they be punish'd, that carry off the Prize?

Eut. Lest their too great Felicity should expose them to Envy, if they should carry away the Prize, and go Shot-free too.

As. By Bacchus, Minos himself never made a juster Law.

Phily. Do you make no Order as to the Method of Drinking?

Eut. Having consider'd the Matter, I will follow the Example of Agesilaus King of the Lacedæmonians.