SATIRICAL CHARACTERS, And handsome DESCRIPTIONS In LETTERS, Written to several Persons of Quality. Dedicated to the Duke of ARPAION. By Monsieur De Cyrano Bergerac. Translated out of the French, By A Person of Honour. LONDON, Printed for Henry Herringman; and are to be sold at his shop at the Anchor in the Lower Walk in the New Exchange. 1658. DEDICATION. My Lord, THis Book hardly contains any thing, but a confused heap of my first Caprices, or, rather the first follies of my youth; I confess 'tis with some shame, that I own it, now in my more advanced years: Nevertheless my Lord, I dedicate it to your Lordship with all ' its defects, and beseech you to let it travail the world under your glorious protection. What will your Lordship think of so strange a proceeding, you'll believe perhaps, that 'tis want of respect, to dedicate to you, that which I myself contemn; and prefix your Illustrious Name in the front of a work, where I blush to see my own: I hope nevertheless (my Lord) that my respect and my zeal, are so well known to you, that you will not impute the liberty I take, to a cause that will be so disadvantageous to me. It's now almost a twelve month since I gave myself to you, and since that happy moment (esteeming all the time of my life lost that was not employed in your service) and not being satisfied, with having devoted to you that which remains, I have endeavoured to repair that loss, by consecrating likewise to you my beginnings; And because that which is passed cannot be recovered to present you with, I offer to you at least all that is left me of it; and by that means (since I have not had the honour to be yours all my life,) my life hath in some sort been employed for you. Besides (my Lord) you know that of all the Offerings that were made to God under the old law, none were so acceptable as the first fruits, however they are not usually the best. And (if it may be permitted to add that which is profane after a thing so holy) you are not ignorant neither that the Athenians thought they could not make a more pleasing and agreeable present to Apollo then by sending to his Temple at Delphos their first hair, (which they consecrated to him) as the first production of their brain. This makes me hope (my Lord) that you'll not refuse the offering I make to you of these works, and that you'll not be displeased, that I style myself at the beginning of these letters, as well as at the beginning of Agrippina, My Lord Your Lordship's most Humble, most Obedient, and most Obliged servant De Cyrano Bergerac. To the Reader. PRefaces in General are like those bills of notice that players post up, which give large promises of satisfaction, thereby to attract the more Mlutitude and money; And the Credulous buyers of books, who think to gain wit by parting with their Coin, are as much deceived as those that go to the Theatre with hopes to become great Politicians by seeing the Countermine of a Periwigd plot, or expect to learn Comportment from a Comedians Demarche. And they usually fall to the Stationer's task as being the Person most concerned; to whom I would gladly have left it now, if my design had been to give praises to the book, and not to gain Pardon for myself. Those that spend their time in brewing of Books are compared by Seneca to petty Painters that busy themselves in Coppying out Originals; and this half verse of Horace is thrown at them. O Imitatores, servum pecus! And great loads of Censures they undergo that meddle in this kind, how deservingly I will not now question, But certainly the cry against them would be less if 'twere considered that these reproaches concern many who are not looked upon by the world as Translators, and who are so far from being capable to judge others that they are guilty themselves. With what confidence might I affirm this great truth that very few of those that would be thought the fathers of that which they do but usher into the world, are so indeed? And hardly have they so much right to any whole Page, as they pretend to have to the whole volume. What are for the most part the Productions now a days, but Translations, and the riches of our Ancestors? We speak through their mouths, and scarce have we a good thought which we are not their debtors for: Everyone. Pilfers and thinks it no injury to take from them that have to spare; some prey upon the sense, and by clothing it in the Country dress, make it pass for a native; Others content themselves with petty Larcins, and will confess that they borrow their best expressions, if you'll grant the invention to be theirs; But the greater number are those that do not only filch here and there, but take it as they find it, word for word, and only alter the Title and instead of Virgil and Cicero put— and— Nor are they content with the spoils of one Ancient, but pick up and down, feasting their Readers palate with a salad of many simples, which doth no more better the Peruser, then compound meats doth the stomach, when they fill is with a confusion of corrupt humours; Thus do they make many Authors meet in the same sheet now they are dead, which living had divers ages to part them. If what is taken out of Aristotle, Plato, Seneca, and some others, were deducted from the works of some that pass for smart Composers, and Dictator's amongst us, I doubt the remains would be little better than a babel of words. Such as these in learning are like our Quakers in religion, those Concordancemen; that are stuffed with scraps of Scripture. To conclude, the riches the Press presents us withal now a days, were dug out of the Ancients mines, and there's nothing new. The Arabes have a Proverb which says, That we merit little, if we cannot do as much as the spider that spins her web out of her own bowels, without being beholding to any either for matter or form. My intention is not to raise my own merits by detracting, and dispraising other men; for I acquiesce in the Proverb, and confess I have deserved nothing, I would only persuade the world that Translators merit little, and those we have spoke of, Plagiaries, less. The one convicts himself by his Confession in the front of his work. The other adds disingenuity and falsehood to his felony. But however we may speak much ill of Translators; certainly Translations deserve better from us, for (although it may be granted that) 'tis no small difficulty to render all Authors, without, in some sort, doing them injury, (for every Language hath its Proprietyes and advantages, and that which is wit in one Tongue will not be so in all) yet who is there I wonder that had not rather want one of his Eyes then both? because we cannot be so happy as to have every excellency of an Author, must we therefore lose him altogether? 'Twas the great Cardinal Richelieu's Care to have books in all sciences translated to render them more Communicable. But, as 'tis usual for those that come to beg pardon for an offence to aggravate and add to it by their Importunities, so I doubt my Exceed may gain me a severer sentence than perhaps was intended me. I confess I might have spoke much less, and yet have said enough, concerning this translation: but having now this Opportunity which I shall not often give myself, I was the willinger to say something in general. 'Tis likely this Version will bring but few of those advantages to the world that I conceive accrue to it from many other Translations; yet, why should not wit be made communicable as well as knowledge since they are both ingredients of a perfect man. Wit I dare Promise you plentifully in these essays, clothed by the Author, in smooth and significant expressions, and such high and unthought-of raptures you'll meet with, that I believe you'll confess he may with some allowance pass for a French Cleveland, and indeed if our Author were not ignorant of this tongue I should think he endeavourd to imitate that great satirist, for like Pliny's fish he carries teeth in his tongue. These letters were the Recreations of his youth, as they have been here to fore mine, at those hours that I studied the French, & as they taught me French I learned them English; with what success, others must judge. I confess there are some Conceptions which I understand not, although I endeavourd to do it from others. Such, as near as I could I englished verbatim, and so disposed the words that they might import as much in English as in French. Those that can judge of the Original will I believe grant, that 'tis almost as hard a Book, to translate well, as any in prose that is extant in that Language. The Readers are desired, when they meet with that, which they do not so clearly understand, to have recourse to these Equivocal Words. French. English. GElee, Signifies Jelly and Frost. pag. 4. & 117. Cloches. Bells and Chilblains. pag. 4. Gravelle, Hailstones, and gravel in the reins. p. 3. & 20. Glace. Ice, and glass. p. 4. Charbon. A plague-sore, also a coal. p. 15. Voutee. Vaunted, also crooked. p. 18. & 20. Eventee. That hath taken vent, also foolish. p. 20. Pointee. Is the point of any thing, or the sharpness of wit. p. 27. Press. A printing-presse, also a crowd. p. 63. Quart & Tiers. Thrusts that are made in Fencing, also a Tertian and Quartan Ague. p. 64. & 118. Plume Feathers for the Hat, also a quill or pen. p. 64. & 128. Ombre. A shadow, also a ghost. p. 64. & 128. Esprit. The wit, also a ghost. p. 66. Hasles. Sun-burning, also shamble or market. p. 76. Vers. Verses, also Worms. p. 78. & 125. Depoviller. To undress, used likewise when one steals from another. p. 88 Poulet A Pullet, also a love-Letter. p. 110. Mules. Chilblains, and Mules. p. 4. & 117. Palettes. A Battledore, also a thing to spread plasters. p. 117. Voler. To steal, also to fly. p. 128. Soufflets. A pair of bellows, also a box on the ear. p. 131. Bote. A Boot, also a thrust with a foil. p. 130. Fleau. A Flail, also a scourge. p. 135. A TABLE Of the several LETTERS. 1 AGainst Winter. pag. 1. 2 For the Spring. p. 5. 3 For the Summer. p. 9 4 Against Autumn. p. 13. 5 To my friends, the Water-drinkers. p. 17. 6 Another on the same subject. p. 19 7 Upon the shadow of Trees in the water. p. 24. 8 Of the Cypresse-tree. p. 26. 9 Of a Tempest. p. 28. 10 In commendations of a redhaired Lady. p. 30. 11 Of a Countryhouse. p. 30. 12 For Witches. p. 40. 13 Against Witches. p. 48. 14 To Monsieur Gerson, upon his Book, The Lady's Triumph. p. 60. 15 The duelist. p. 63. 15 Upon a Recovery. p. 65. 16 Against a Coward. p. 66. 17 Against a Detractors p. 70. 18 To Madam****** p. 72. 19 Of a Dwarf. p. 74. 20 Against Soucidas. p. 75. 21 A Letter. p. 79. 22 A Consolation for one of his friends, upon the Eternity of his father in Law. p. 83. 23 Against a Plagiary. p. 85. 24 Another on the same subject. p. 85. 25 Against a great Max. p. 90. 26 Against Scarron. p. 94. 27 Another Letter. p. 100 28 Against a Pedant. p. 103. 29 Against Lent. p. 107. 30 For Madam***** to Mr. Cock. p. 110. 31 To a Count of mean birth. p. 112. 32 To a reader of Romances. p. 113. 33 Against Physicians. p. 114. 34 Against a Coward Bragadocio. p. 121. 35 A Dream. p. 123. 36 Against the Frondeurs or Slingers. p. 134. 37 Theseus to Hercules. p. 152. 38 Upon Aenigma, that the Author sent to Monsieur***** p. 156. Amorous Letters. 1 To Madam***** p. 161. 2 Letter. p. 163. 3 Letter. p. 164. 4 Letter. p. 165. 5 Letter. p. 167. 6 Letter. p. 169. 7 Letter. p. 170. 8 Letter. p. 172. SATIRICAL LETTERS And Handsome DESCRIPTIONS TO monsieur Le Bret A Counsellor. 1. Against Winter. SIR, NOW 'tis, that Winter hath tied the Earth's Codpiece point, & hath made the substance Impotent; nay, and the very soul, although Incorporeal, is not secure against his Tyranny. Mine is so shrunk into its self, That in what par soever I touch myself to day, I want above four fingers of reaching the place I am at. I feel without being sensible, And a sword might have let out my life at a thousand doors, and never once knocked at that of Pain. In fine, we are almost Paralytic, yet (to make a wound of a small hurt.) God hath given but one balm for our sore, and the Physician that brings it too, is to visit six other houses, before he comes to us; this lazy-bones I speak of, is the Sun. Do but see what little Journeys he goes, he sets out but at Eight, and goes to his Inn at four. I believe he is of my mind, and thinks it too cold weather to rise early; But pray God; it may be laziness only that stays him, and not spite; for, me thinks, what ever the reason is, he hath looked upon us this many months Ascuint; for my part I cannot imagine why it should be, unless he, seeing the Earth so hardened by the frost dares not Mount too high, for fear of hurting his Beams in precipitating them. Thus are we far from being revenged on the season for the injury he doth us. In vain the fire puts himself into a heat and Choler against him, his rage (after having sent forth a great many sparks of Anger) ends; in being constrained to devour himself the faster; 'Twere to little purpose to take up a shield, Winter is a sixmonth's death fallen upon one whole side of the Globe, which we cannot escape, 'Tis a short old-age of things animated, 'Tis a being that hath no action, which never comes near us (be we never so stout) but he makes us quake, our porous, delicate, and fine slender bodies, shrink up, become hard, and hasten to close their passages to baricadoe a million of invisible doors, & to cover them with little Mountains: he is moved, contends, and blushing gives this for Excuse, that his shiverings are sallies that he purposely makes to beat off the Enemy from his outworks. Finally 'tis a Miracle that we resist the destiny of all living creatures. This Tyrant is not Content to silence our birds, to strip our trees, to cut Ceres' locks, nay and her Ears to boot, and to have left our Grandmother stark naked & bare; but, that we might not fly by water to a more temperate climate, he hath enclosed them with Diamant walls; and lest the rivers by their Motion should have caused some heat to help us, he hath made them fast to their beds. But he exceeds all this, for, to affright us, by the very Image of prodigies which he invents for our destruction, he makes us mistake the Ice for a Hardened light, a Petrified day, a solid nothing, or some horrible Monster whose body is nothing but an eye. The Seine at first, affrighted at the tears of Heaven was troubled, and fearing some more sad disaster would have befallen her inhabitants, stopped her course, and kept herself in a readiness, upon occasion to assist us. Mankind, being likewise terrified, at the Prodigies of this horrible season, gather from it presages proportionable to their fears; If it snow, they presently imagine the Milky way is dissolving, that the heaven's foam for madness at the loss of it, And that the earth, out of care to her Children, for fear becomes grey. They fancy likewise the universe to be a great Tart that this Monster (Winter) strews Sugar upon, intending to devour it, that the snow is the foam of the plants that die mad, and conclude that the cold winds, are the last sighs of languishing Nature. I myself, that use to interpret all things for the best, and that in another season should have persuaded myself, that the snow was the vegetative Milk that the Planets suckled the Plants withal, or the Crumbs that, after Grace, falls from God Almighty's table, am now carried away with the torrent of Examples. If it hail, I cry out, what Punishments are reserved for us sinners, since the Innocent heavens piss Gravel: would I describe those frozen winds, so great, that they overwhelm Towers and Castles, and yet so small that they are invisible, I cannot imagine what to call them, unless, the Blustrings of some devils broke loose, which having been benumbed under ground, run about to catch themselves a heat. Every thing that is like winter puts me into a fright, I cannot endure a looking glass because of its resemblance with Ice, I eat Physicians because they are called snowy or grey Doctors, and I can convict the Cold of many Murders; for, in most of the houses in Paris where I have seen Jelly, there hath been a dying Person. In troth Sir, I do not believe that Saint John's tide will perfectly cure me of my Christmas distempers; when I think, that I must still see in the Casements great panes of Glass, which is nothing else but Icecles hardened in the fire. Yea? This cruel wretch hath put me into so ill a humour, that the August sun will hardly purge me from Januaryes phlegm. The least heat will make me say that winter is nature's cold fit, and Summer her fever: for judge you if I complain without a cause, and whether all these frozen fellows (notwithstanding the liberality of the season that gives them as many pearls as nose-Drops) will not take me for a Hercules that pursues this Monster their enemy. What rigours doth he not every where Exercise? Under the Conduit you'll see the frozen tankard-bearer, compel his heart by blowing, to restore the life to his finger's ends, which this Murderer hath taken away. The street walkers make more noise upon the stones then ordinary, because they have chilblains at their heels, the Revenging school Boy with a snowball in his hand, watches for his Companion at some corner, to drowned his face in a piece of river. To conclude the Frost is so great, that every thing is taken, to our very cloaks, at ten at night the shivering shark makes music with his teeth under a Penthouse, and comforts himself with the sight of the first man that passes by, which he mistakes to be his tailor bringing him a suit, when it shall please winter that hardhearted offendor to go to Confession, here you have the examination of his conscience, one sin only excepted; for that is a Particular he shall never be absolved of, judge yourself if it be not unpardonable; he just now benumbed my fingers to persuade you that I was but a cold friend, since I tremble, now there's an occasion to declare myself, Sir, your Servant. To the same. 2. For the Spring. SIR, Weep no more; Fair weather is returned: The sun is reconciled to mankind, and his heat hath made winter find his legs, as benumbed as they were; he hath lent him only strength enough to run away, and those long nights, that seemed to go but a step in an hour (for being in the dark they durst not run) are as far from us, as the first that laid Adam to sleep. The air not long since so condensed by the frost, that there was not room enough for the birds, seems now to be but a great Imaginary space, where shrill Musicians (hardly supported by our thoughts) appear in the sky like little worlds, balanced by their proper Centre: there were no colds in the Country whence they came, for here they chatter sweetly. Lord! what a noise they make, doubtless they are at law for those lands, Winter at his death, made them heirs of. This jealous old Tyrant not content to have rung all creatures, had frozen the very rivers that they might not produce so much as their Images; and Maliciously turned the quicksilver of those running looking glasses towards them, which had so continued if the Spring at his return had not rectified them. The Beasts now see themselves swim as they, run along, the Linnet and the Chaffinch re-produce themselves without losing their Unity, they revive without dying, and wonder that so cold a nest in a Moment can hatch little ones as big as themselves. In fine, we are of opinion the earth is in a good humour; we need now only make much of her favour: in troth by Winter's assistance she was become so hard hearted towards us, being vexed to see herself plundered this Autumn, that, had not the heavens wept two Months in her bosom, she would never have been mollified: but God be thanked, she hath forgot all our thefts, all her Care now is to devise some new fruits: she cloaths herself with short grass to be the more easy for our feet, she sends nothing to our tables that doth not overflow with her milk. If she present us with Caterpillars, 'tis in the form of wild Silkworms, and those great Beetles, which are little birds, shows she hath been so careful, as to invent even play-things for our Children: she admires her own riches, and can hardly persuade herself to be the Mother of all she brings forth. But a fortnight gone with Child she miscarries of a thousand infects, and being not willing alone to enjoy so much of pleasure, she brings forth hasty births, and rough-cast Children, to be objects of her bounty. Would one not think that by making the Branches of our Forests so thick with leaves, she had in a frolick carried (to make us sport) a whole field to the tops of our trees: but knowing that Excessive joys are prejudicable, in this season she makes beans to Blossom that the fear of becoming fools may a little allay it. This is the only ill presage that she hath not driven from off the hemisphere. Nature brings forth in all places, and her Children as they are borne, play in their cradles. Consider the Zephyrus, which dares hardly breathe in fear, how she plays and courts the Corne. One would think the grass the hair of the Earth; and this wind a comb that is careful to untangle it. I think the very Sun woes this season, for I have observed that wheresoever he retires, he still keeps close to her. Those insolent Northern winds that braved us in the absence of this god of tranquillity (surprised at his coming) unites himself to his rays, to obtain his pardon by their caresses, and those that are greater offenders, hide themselves in his atoms, and are quiet, for fear of being discovered: all things that are not hurtful, enjoy a free life, nay our very soul wanders beyond their Confines, to show she is not under restraint. I think nature's at a wedding, we see nothing but dances, feasts, and balls; and he that should seek a quarrel, would not have the contentment to find one, unless those that arises amongst the flowers contending for beauty, where 'tis possible you may see a bloody Pink newly come from combat, fall with weariness; there a rosebud, swelled by the ill success of his antagonist blows for joy; there the Lilies, that colosse amongst flowers, that curdled Giant, proud to see his images triumph in the Lower, raises himself above his fellows, looks down upon them, and makes the Violet prostrate herself at his feet; which being jealous and angry, that she cannot rise to the same height doubles her sweetness, that our noses may give her that precedency which our eyes denies her; there a bunch of time humbles itself before the Tulip, because she bears a Chalice; in another place, the earth vexed that the Trees carry the blossoms, and flowers, she hath crowned them withal, so high and remote from her refuses to give them any fruits till they have returned him his flowers. Nevertheless for all these little disputes and differences, I do not find the Spring least pleasant and agreeable. The jolly country-lad swears by godsnigs he'll outstrip his neighbours at the Maypole, The vine yard-keeper leaning on his bill smiles to see his vine weep. To conclude, Nature's example persuades me so much to pleasure, that all servitude and restraint being painful, I am almost against my will, Sir, Your servant. 3. For the Summer. WHat would you not say of the Sun, if he had spoilt your own flesh, if you complain of him for having only visited your meat, he hath made a great pot of the whole earth and hath kindled fuel under it to make it boil, he hath disposed the Winds round about as Bellows to keep it from going out, yet when he lights your Kitchen fire, you take it in dudgeon, he warms the waters, he distils and rectifies them, lest their crudities should hurt you, and yet when he drinks your health you scold at him. For my part, I know not henceforward what posture this poor god can put himself into, to please us: he sends the Birds to give us good-morrow, with their Music, he hath warmed our baths, and doth not invite us to them till he hath first plunged himself in, to see if there be any danger. What could he add to all these honours, unless to eat at our table? And judge you what he seeks when he is never nearer our houses then at noon. After all this, Sir, do you complain that he dries up the humours of our Rivers? alas, were it not for this attraction what would have become of us? The floods, the Lakes and the fountains have sucked up all the water that made the earth fertile: and we are angry that to the hazard of giving the middle region the dropsy, he undertakes to drain 'em, and walks the clouds those great watring-pots over us, with which he quenches the thirst of our fields at a season, in which he is so much taken with our beauties, that he endeavours to see us naked. I cannot imagine if he did not attract a great quantity of warer to cool his rays, how he could kiss us without burning us: but whatsoever we pretend, we have always water enough to spare, for when the Canicular by his heat, leaves us but precisely enough for our necessities, hath he not taken care the Dogs should run mad, for fear they should drink any from us? You likewise thunder against him for that he hath (you say) robbed us of our very shadows. He takes them from us, I grant you, but 'tis because he sees they take delight hourly to fright us: see how he climbs to the top of our Horizon to lay them at our feet, and to drive them underground from whence they came. Nevertheless how much soever he hates them, and as near as they are to their end, if we interpose he gives them their life: therefore these daughters of the night run about us to be protected from the arms of the Sun, well knowing that he'll rather leave the victory ungotten, then resolve to kill them through our bodies. 'Tis not but that he is on fire for us all the year, and he shows it sufficiently, resting neither night nor day, but in summer. Nevertheless, his passion is quite another thing, he flames, he runs, and seems to descend from his circle, and endeavouring to hang about our necks he goes so near us, that notwithstandding the light essence of this god, the one half of mankind sweat & drop with carrying him: nevertheless we are troubled when he leaves us, the Night sympathising likewise with his complexion becomes clear & hot; because intending suddenly to return, the Sun left at his departure upon the horizon part of his retinue. The month of May indeed makes the fruits sprout & knits them and makes them grow; but he leaves them a mortal sharpness that would choke us, if June did not sweeten them. Some perhaps will object that by his excessive heat he makes ashes of our herbs, and afterwards pours upon them storms of rain. But do you not think he hath great reason (seeing us so tanned) to buck us, and admit that he were so hot as to consume us, 'twould at lest be a blessed sign of our peace with God, since formerly with his people he sent fire from heaven only on purified Victims. Besides, if he intended to burn us, he would not send the Dew to cool and refresh us, that blessed dew that makes us believe, by his infinite drops of light, that the torch of the world is in the dust in our fields, that a million of little heavens, are fallen upon the earth, or that it is the soul of the Universe, that knowing not what honour to render to his father, goes out to meet & receive him on the tops of odoriferous flowers. The Country-fellow he thinks they are silver-lice, fall'n from the Sun's head which he combs in the morning; another while, he believes he sweat of the Air corrupted by heat, hath bred these glittering worms; or takes it for the spittle that falls from the planets mouths as they sleep: To conclude, let it be what it will, it imports not. Were they amorous tears, her grief becomes her too well to afflict us: besides, this is a time that Nature puts all her treasures into our powers, The Sun in person waits on the beds of Ceres, and every Ear of Corn seems a bakehouse of brittle and milky loaves which he hath taken the pains to bake. If any one complains that his too long stay with us makes our leaves and fruits yellow, let them know, that this Monarque of the stars does it to make our Climate the garden of the Hesperides, by giving golden leaves to the trees as well as golden fruits: notwithstanding all this, 'tis to little purpose for him to heat himself in his zodiac with the Lion, he cannot stay four and twenty hours with the Virgin, but he'll be enamoured, he'll every day grow colder, and at last how ever he leaves the title of virgin to the poor maid, he'll come out of her bed so enervated and weakened that six Months will hardly recover him of his impotency. Oh how fearful am I to see summer increase because I apprehend his decrease! 'tis he that sets at liberty the water, wood, metals, herbs, and stones, that the frost had made prisoners, he appaises the coldness amongst them and reconciles and mediates betwixt them an exchange of Prisoners, he conducts peaceably each to his own home. And to show you that he separates the natures that are the most Joined you and I being but the same thing, I never the less at this time consider myself apart from you, to avoid the impertinence of saying to myself that I am, Sir, Your servant. To the same. 4. Against Autumn. SIR, ME thinks now, I could with a great deal of pleasure rail upon Autumn, if I feared not to incense the Thunder. He is not content to kill us, but is unsatisfied if he employ not 3 different executioners for one Death, and kill us at once, by the Eyes, the Ears, and the Touch, that is, by Lightning, Thunder, and the Bolt; the Lightning is kindled, to extinguish our sight by too much light, and precipitating our lids on the apples of our Eyes, it passes us from two little nights, no bigger than a penny, into one as big as the Universe. The Air, by its continual agitation, inflames his Impostumes. In what part soever we turn our sight, a bloody Cloud seems to have drawn between us and the light, a dark grey Curtain lined with red taffata. The Thunder, begotten in the Cloud bursts the belly of his mother, and the Cloud in hard labour is delivered with so much noise, that the most savage rocks are split at the Cries of this production. It shall not, though, be said that this surly season speaks to me such high words that I dare not answer him; this insolent, to whose sins there only wanted this to impute to the Creator the crimes of nature, but if the injustice of 100 thousand Claps of thunder, were a production of the Inscrutable wisdom of God, it follows not for all this that the thundering season, that is the season destinated to punish offenders, should be more pleasant, than the rest, else you must conclude, that the sweetest time of a criminals life, is that of his Execution. I think that from this fatal Meteor, we may come to the wine, since that is a liquid Thunder, a potable wrath, a death that kills drunkards with health. 'Tis he, the tyrant that is the Cause, the Definition of Rationale Animal given by Aristotle of man, is false, at least for them that drink too much. What think you, may one not say of a Tavern that 'tis a place where folly is sold by the bottle? and I doubt the vapours are ascended as high as the sun, which may be the reason he goes to bed adays so early. Some Philosophers of our age have swallowed so much of it, that it made the Earth turn round under them, and if she doth really move, I think they are reel that drunkenness causes her to make. For my part, I am so great a hater of this poison, that although Aquavitae be the stronger venom of the two, yet I pardon him because she is a witness to me that she hath made him give up his spirit. Thus we are in this season condemned to die with thirst; & since our drink is poisoned, let us see if the food which she spreads on the Earth as on a table, is less dangerous than her drink. Alas for one fruit that Adam Eat, 100 thousand persons died that were not yet born, and Nature forces the Tree to begin the Execution of his own Criminal children, he throws them against the ground with their heads foremost, the wind shakes and the Sun precipitates them. After this, Sir, you'll pardon me I hope, if I disaprove that it should be said, here is good harmless fruit; how can he be so that hath hanged himself? and if we consider likewise how the stones fly at them, have we not cause to doubt of their innocence? do you not see also that the trees in producing their fruits are careful to encompass them with leaves to hide them; as if they wanted impudence to show their shameful or Privy parts; But consider also, how this horrible season uses the trees at her farewell, she jades them with worms, spiders, and caterpillars; and although she leaves them bald, yet she fills their heads with vermin, call you these gifts of a good Mother to her Children? and doth she dese ve we should thank her when she hath taken away from us almost all our sustenance? But her malice extends yet further, for she attempts to poison those, that are not dead with hunger, I speak nothing but what i'll prove. Is it not true, that of all the things which are necessary for our use, none of them are remained pure but the air: this stepmother hath choked it with contagion. See you not how she carries the plague a long with her, this disease without a tail, at whose tail death hangs, in most of the Cities of the kingdom, how she over throws the Oeconomy of the Universe, the Society of men, covering with Purples miserable wretches on a dunghill; & judge you if the fire she hath kindled against us be vehement, when one coal of it is sufficient to consume a man. These Sir are the Treasures and Benefits of this adorable season, by which you thought to have found the secret of the Cornucopia. To say truth, doth she not rather deserve Satyrs than Eulogies? and aught we not almost to hate the other seasons, because they are in her Company, and do follow, and go before her? For my part, I do not doubt but one day this wicked one, will corrupt all her Companions: And indeed we already see that after his example, they have their particular ways of maiming us, and for the miseries they bring upon us, Winter makes us implore St. John, the spring St. Mathurin, the Summer St. Hubert, and Autumn St. Poch, for my part I know not what hinders me from procuring my own death, for vexation that I cannot live but under their government, but chiefly for that this accursed Autumn goes over my head every year to make me mad, She endeavours I think to engage her Sisters in her crimes. For to conclude Sir, big with thunders as we see him; would she not persuade us to believe, that they altogether compose a monster that barks with the feet, she for her part is a ravenous Harpuy that carries Ice in her mouth and fire in her tail; who saves herself from an embracement, by a deluge, and at fourscore days old is so passionately in love with Winter, for killing us, that she dies in his embraces; but that which seems to me most of all strange, is, that I have not all this while taxed him with his greatest crime; I mean the blood that for many years he hath covered the face of Europe withal. I ought to have done it to punish him for that having been prodigal of his fruits to every body else, he has not as yet given me one, that can say to you after my death I am, Sir, Your Servant. The second Description of the Aquaeduct or Fountain of Arcueil. 5. To my friends, the Water-drinkers. THis Letter having been lost, the Author long after writ another, but having almost forgot the former, he lighted not on the same fancies. Since he found the lost-one, and being as he is no small enemy to labour and painstaking, he thought not the subject worthy enough, to purge each other Letters from the conceptions that might be found in the other. Sirs, Stand, stand! My head is the point of a River, I am under, at the very fathom without swimming, and yet I fetch my breath at ease, you may well judge that 'tis of Arcueil that I write you. The water here led in triumph marches in files by a regiment of stones; they have reared a hundred Portals to receive her; and the King thinking that she was weary with coming on foot so far, caused her to be ushered lest she should fall. These extreme honours hath made her so proud, that she would not go to Paris, if they did not carry her thither; Having got cold with lying so long upon the ground, she hath raised herself a higher bed, and 'tis held by tradition that this Aquaeduct seemed so fair and stately to her, that she came thither of herself to walk for recreation: in the mean time she's shut in with four walls. Is it perhaps that she hath been convicted of having formerly been in the Sea's company, in some shipwreck? It must be so, for here Justice is so severe, that the very Fountains are made to walk up right and straight, and the air of the City is so contagious, that she cannot come near it without getting the Stone. Notwithstanding these obstacles she hath such an itch to see it, that she rubs herself for half a mile together against the Rocks, she thinks long till she counterfeits Hippocrene among the Muses of the University. She cannot hold her water, for longing to see how from the mountains of Rongy in the air, she pisses to the suburbs of St. german; she receives order from his Highness' Royal of what visits she is to make: And for all the private threats that she murmurs out by the way: how formidable soever she appears, Luxembourgh hath no sooner spied her, but with one look only she disperses her on every side. Could Love indeed join Arcueil and Paris by a stronger bond then that of life? This Reptile is a bit for the King's mouth: 'Tis a great sword that makes the water-bearers put on their belt, 'tis an immortal Snake, that shrinks into her skin, still as she comes out on't: 'tis an Artificial imposthume that cannot be broke without endangering Paris' life, 'tis a Pie whose sauce has life: 'tis a Bone whose marrow walks; 'tis a liquid Serpent whose tail goes before his head: In fine, I think she is resolved to do nothing here but things that are impossible to be believed: She goes straight because she's arched and bend: She corrupts not although she be in the grave; she's alive under ground: She goes on the top of those valleys whose doors are open; she hits her way in the dark, and runs withal her force without falling. Well Sirs, after all these miracles deserves she not to be Canonised at Paris under the names of St. Cosme, St. Benoist, St. Michael, and St. Severin? Who would think in the mean time, that a foot's breadth measures the destiny of a whole people? By this you may know what honour 'tis to you that I who can, when I please, stop that liquor which quenches the thirst of so many honest men at Paris, and that can every day be served before the King, should yet descend so low as to style myself, Sirs, your Servant. De Bergerac. 6. Another on the same subject. Sirs, A Miracle, a Miracle! I am at the bottom of the water and yet cannot find drink; I have a whole River upon my head, and yet I have not lost my footing: In fine, I find myself in a Country where fountains fly, and where Rivers are so dainty that they go over bridges for fear of wetting themselves: 'Tis no Hyperbole, for if you consider the great Arches upon which she marches in triumph, you would think that she's got upon Scaffolds to see the further, and take notice in what places in Paris she's most needful; they are like so many Bows from which she lets fly a thousand silver liquid shafts against thirst. But Now, she was bare briched upon the ground; And at present there she walks upon stately Galleries, she carries her head even as high as the Mountains; And do not believe that her stature is the worse because she is vaulted; I know not whether our Citizens take this Arch for the ark of the Covenant, But I am sure were it not for her, they'd be all feign to make their last. She in favour of them enhances upon Nature's strength, she doth things impossible for them, and runs two leagues together with dead legs, that she cannot stir; to see her spurt up as she doth, one would think that after a long contest with the Globe of the earth that lay heavy upon her, finding herself eased of a sudden, she cannot contain herself and continues in the air whether she will or no, by the swing that she gave; But what's the reason that at Rongy where she's only troubled with a little gravel in her reins, she Urines but by drops, and that in Arcueil, where she is troubled with the stone, she pisses over mountains. Besides, this is nothing, she doth otherguise miracls; she continually glides out of her skin, yet can never get quite out of it; & more learned than the Doctors of Hippocrates' profession, she cures with a look only, every day at Paris above four hundred thousand thirsts. She grows cold with running, she buries herself alive, in a Tomb that she may live the longer; Is it not her beauty that obliges her to hide herself from the sun for fear of being stolen away; or that having found herself courted in the Country, she's grown so proud, that she will not go unless she be carried. I know that she cannot be taxed of having too much vent, running as she doth in a stone pitcher (where so much as a ray of light cannot get in) yet I question her wisdom, in going over the tops of doors that are open: But perhaps I blame her wrongfully, for I speak of this piece of Architecture, without understanding truly what it is, 'tis perhaps a petrified Cloud, a great Bone whose Marrow runs, a solid rainbow, that pisses water in Arcucil to pour it into this City, A paste for Fishes that hath too much sauce, a Nayade in lead that hath the flux, An Apothecary that gives the University glisters: In fine, the mother-Nurse of a whole City, the Cocks being the teats that she gives us suck by: since then so long an Imprisonment hath so disguised her that we cannot know her, let us go a little nearer, and view her as she comes out of her mother's belly; good gods! how sweet she is, how fresh a complexion, and how smooth a face she hath: I hear her prattling with the gravel, and seems by her pretty lisping desirous to learn the language of the Country: look nearer do you not see heroft stretched at her whole length in this marble Bason; she reposes, and yet swells under the drops of her source, as if she endeavoured to suck her Nurce's breast as she sleeps: you'll not find in her so much as one fish; for the pretty little one is too young yet to have Children; 'tis not however for want of knowledge, for with her birth she received a natural light of good and evil; and to make it appear to you, none never comes near her, but she presently shows them plainly their deformities, or their perfections. At her Age however, because her features are yet shapeless, 'tis hard to discernwhether it be not a light of four foot square, or an eye of the earth that weeps. No 'tis not, I am deceived, she is too lively to resemble things that are dead 'Tis doubtless the Queen of the fountains of this Country, and her royal mind may be observed by her extraordinary liberality. For she never receives a visit from any Ladies but she makes them a present of their picture; and in recompense she hath received from heaven the gift of miracles: 'tis not a thing that I invent to make out her Panegy rick; come near to her side, and you'll see, that, like that sacred fountain which deified them that bathed, she makes bodies without substance, plunges them into the water without wetting them, and shows us men that live with her without the use of respiration: and yet these are things she doth when she sleeps; & hardly hath she rested so long as while you may go four steps, but she quits her Inn, and stays not till she hath received a favourable look from Paris: her first visit is to Luxembourg, she's no sooner arrived there, but she casts herself at his Highness' Royal's feet, and seems by her murmuring to ask of him in the River's Language what houses she must go to. she's come hither in such haste, that she's all of a water, and having not had the time to light by the way, she is forced to piss in the Basin before every body, at the Palace of Orleans. In the mean time, 'tis to little purpose that she quarrels with our spouts, and sheds torrents of tears to move us to pity her toil. Ingratitude is so prodigiously great now a days, that the thirsty ones make mouths at her, abundance of Rogue's pump her; and every one is glad to see her bepiss herself. One cries that she is very unmannerly to make such haste to come and lodge with the Citizens to piss in their mouths: others, That she had need walk with so much state indeed, to come and make nothing but fair water at Paris: others, That her impudence is very great to stretch out her neck at such a length, only to spit in our faces: some others say, That she is very sick, that she cannot hold her water: In fine, not so much as those that seem to kiss her but grind their teeth at her. For my part, I wash my hands, for I have many examples before my eyes, of the punishments of Drunkards that slight her. Nature herself, that is Mother of this fair Nymph, it seems, fearing that any thing should be wanting in the state of her reception, gave mankind Palaces to receive her in: but this fair one doth not abuse the honours that are done her; contrarywayes hardly is she got to Paris, but finding herself at the extremity, by reason of her too long Journey, and foreseeing her end draws near, she runs to St. Cosme, St. Benoist and St. Severin, to obtain their Benediction. This is all I can say in praise of that stately Aquaeduct, and of her Hospital. My good friends, well then, who wants water, will you have any Gentlemen? I'll warrant it fountain, upon my life, and you know that I am, your Servant. 7. Upon the shadow of Trees in the water. SIR, LYing on my belly upon the green bank of a river, and my back stretched, under the branches of a Willow that views himself in it, I see the history of Narcissus renewed in the trees, a hundred poplars tumble a hundred other poplars into the stream, and these Aquatiques were so frighted at the fall, that they tremble still every day for fear of a wind that touches them not. I imagine, that night having made all things black, the Sun plunged them in the river to wash them. But what shall I say of this liquid Glass, this little world turned topsy-turvy, that places the Oaks under the moss, and the heavens lower than the Oaks? Are they not of those virgins formerly Metamorphosed into Trees, that still finding their Chastity violated by the kisses of Apollo, desperately cast themselves into the flood with their head foremost; Or is it not Apollo himself, who, offended that they durst keep the air from him, hath thus hanged them by the feet. Now the fish walk in the woods, and whole forests in the midst of the water without wetting themselves: there's an old Elm amongst the rest, would make you laugh, which doth almost loll on the other side, to the end that his Image taking the same posture, he might make of his body and his shadow an Angle for the fish: the river is not ingrateful to the willows for their visits; she hath made the universe bored through transparent, lest the down of her head, should foul their branches; and not content to have made crystal with mud, she hath vaulted the heavens & the Planets underneath, that it might not be said, that those that visited her, were deprived of the light which they forsook for her. Now we may look down on the heavens, and by her the light may brag, that as weak as she is at four in the morning, he has the power to precipitate the heavens into the Deep: Butadmire the power that the lower region of the soul exercises upon the higher. After having discovered, that all these wonders are but delusions of the sense, I cannot for all hinder my sight, from taking this Imaginary Firmament for a great Laque, on which the Earth floats. The Nightingale who from the top of a bough sees himself in it, believes he's fallen into the river; he is on the top of an Oak and yet is afraid of being drowned, but after having freed himself by his eyes and his feet, from fear; his picture then seeming a Rival, come to combat, he chatters, and warbles, and that other Nightingale to his thinking, silently does the same, and cozen the Soul with so many Charms, that one would fancy he sung purposely to be heard by our eyes, I think he by motion chatters and sends no sound at all to the ear, that he may at the same time answer his enemy, and that he may not infringe the laws of that Country he inhabits, whose people are dumb: the Perch, the Trout, and the Goldenie, that see him, know not whether it be a fish clothed with feathers, or a bird devested of his body; they gather about him, and look on him as a Monster; and the Pike, the Tyrant of Rivers, jealous to see a stranger in his Throne, seeks him; when he hath found him, touches him and yet cannot feel him, runs after him when he's upon him, and wonders that he hath so often passed by him without doing him any hurt. I myself remain so much amazed that I am forced to quit this description. I beseech you suspend his Condemnation, since 'tis difficult to judge of a shadow: for although my Enthusiasms should have the reputation to be very clear, yet 'tis not impossible that the light of this may be dull, having been taken in the shade. Besides, what more can I add to the description of this illuminated Image, unless that it is a visible Nothing, a spiritual Chameleon, a darkness that the night kills, a debate betwixt our reason and our Eyes, a privation of light, that the light produces: In sine, that 'tis a slave that is no more wanting of master than the end of my letters are of, SIR, your Servant. 8. Of a Cypress Tree. SIR, IT was my design to have sent you the description of a Cypress, but this is only the rough drauft, because it is so sharp that the keenest wit dare not undertake it. His colour, and form, makes me think of a Lizard turned upside downwards, which stings the heavens at the same time he bites the Earth; If there be among trees as among men diversity of trades, seeing this ladder with awls instead of leaves makes me believe heis the Trees shoemaker. I hardly dare bring my Imagination near his prickly niedles for fear of being provoked to say too much; of 10 thousand lances he makes but one, without joining them: one would think it a shaft that the universe in rebellion darts at heaven, or a great nail with which nature fastens the empire of the living to that of the dead: this Obelisk, this Dragon-tree, whose tail is at his head, seems to me a more commodious Pyramid then that of Mausolus: for instead of carrying the dead Corpse, as they did, into that; this is carried to the burial of the dead. But I profane the Adventure of young Cyparissus the beloved of Apollo, to make him act the persons of those monuments, unworthy and below him. This poor Metamorphosis still remembers the Sun, he bursts his Sepulchre, and rising, whets himself, that he may pierce the heavens, and the sooner arrive at his beloved: he would have been there before this, but that the earth his Mother holds him by the foot. Phobus, to make him gratify him, makes him one of his vegetals, to whom all the seasons bear respect: the heats of the summer dare not hurt him, he being their Master's minion; the winter frosts fear him as a thing the most fatal in the world, so that were it not for Crowning the heads of Conquerors or Lovers, he is no more obliged to uncoife, than the Laurel or the Myrtle at the year's farewell. The Ancients who knowing this Tree to be the soul of the Parks brought it to the funerals, to awe death with the fear of losing her householdstuff. This is all I can say to you of the body & branches of this tree. I would now end with the top that I might conclude with a point of wit, but I am so unhappy, that I should not find water in the sea. I am upon a point, and yet cannot see it, because perhaps it hath put out my eyes. Consider a little I beseech you, how, to escape my fancy, he pines away in his birth; he becomes less by growing, and I would say, he were a fixed river, that glides along in the Air, did he not contract himself by running; and if it were not more probable that he is a Pike on fire whose flame is green. Thus I force the Cypress, that fatal tree, that delights itself only in shady groves, to represent fire; for 'tis but reasonable, that he should be once a presage of good, and that by him I may daily remember when I see him, that furnishing me with matter for a Letter, he was the cause that I had the honour, ending, to write myself, SIR, your Servant. 9 Of a Tempest. SIR, HOwever I am here very softly lodged, yet I am not much at Ease; the more I am rocked the less I sleep; round about us the hills groan at the shock of the Encounter; the sea becomes pale with anger, the winds whistle against our cables, the water squirts salt upon our Decks, whilst our Anchor and Sailes are drawn up: already the passengers Litanies are mixed with the Mariner's blasphemies. Our vows are interrupted with hichops, certain ambassadors of a painful deglutition. Good god! all nature assaults us, nay our very hearts and stomaches rise up against sum; the sea spews on us, and we vomit on him. One wave alone doth sometimes so generally enclose us, that whosoever should consider us from the shore, would take our Ship for a house of glass in which we are sat: the sea lances purposely to swell into unhandsome shapes to represent to us the drauft of a Churchyard; and when I give attention, I fancy to myself that I distinguish (as proceeding form under the Ocean) from amongst the dreadful hollowing of the waters, some verses of the dead man's prayer-book: Nor is the water our only enemy; the heavens are so fearful that we should escape, that they draw up a squadron of Meteors against us, he leaves not so much as one Atom of the air, that is not employed as a hail-stone against us; the Comets serve as Torches to celebrate our funerals; all the Horizon is but a piece of red Iron: the thunders disturb our ears like a piece of rend camelot; and seeing the Cloud so bloody and big as she is, one would think she were tumbling on us, not thunderbolts but whole mount Aetna. Oh god! are we of such consequence, as to breed emulation between the Elements, which shall first destroy us? 'Tis then out of design, that the water mounts as high as the hands of Jupiter, to extinguish the flames of lightnings, and deprive the fire of the honour of destroying us. But not satisfied with this, swallowing us up in the great hollow, she hath made in her breast, just as she sees our Vessel ready to split against a rock, she claps between and brings us off, lest that other Element should share in that victory she alone pretends to. Thus we are sick at heart to see our Enemies dispute the honour of a defeat, where our lives are to be the spoils; she is sometimes so bold, to daub the Azure of the firmament with her foam, and to carry us so high amongst the stars, that Jason may perhaps think, that 'tis the Ship Argo beginning a second voyage: then darting of us to the very sand of her bed we rebound to the light in so quick an instant, that there is none of us, but believes when our ship is got up again, that she hath passed through the whole mass of the world, and is got on the Sea at th' other side: alas where are we! The insolence of this storm spares not the very Alcyons nests, the Whales are stifled in their own proper Element. The Sea endeavours to make us a tilt of our boat. There's only the Sun that doth not join in this assasinat. Nature hath blinded him with a dishclout of great clouds, for fear he should see it. Or else he being resolved not to participate of this base action, and being not in his power to remedy it, he got to the flying River side, and washes his hands of it. O you nevertheless to whom I write, know that sinking I drink down my own error; for I should be still at Paris in health, if when you command me to keep on terra ferma, I had been, your Obedient Servant. 10. For a Red-Lady. MADAM, I Well know that we live in a Country, where opinions of the vulgar are so unreasonable, that Red-hair, a colour that is an honour to the fairest heads, is in great contempt: but I know very well likewise, that these stupids, that are animated but with the froth of reasonable souls, cannot judge as they ought of things excellent because of the great distance that is betwixt the lowness of their fancy, and high excellence of those works of which they ignorantly give their judgement. But whatever be the false opinion of this hundred-headed-monster, permit me to speak of your divine Hair like a man of understanding. Glorious fruit of the essence of the most beautiful visible Being! intelligent reflection of the radical fire of nature! Image of the Sun, the most perfect! I am not so brutish as to mistake for my Queen, the daughter of him that my Ancestors acknowledged for their god. Athens bemoaned the fall of her Crown, in the ruin of Apollo's temp's. Rome ceased to command the world, when she denied incense to the light: and Byzantium first began to enslave mankind, when she took for her Arms those of the Sun's Sister: As long as Persia did homage to this universal spirit, for the rays that she held from him, 4 thousand years could not make old the vigour of her Monarchy; but being ready to see his Images broken, he took sanctuary in Pequin from the abuses of Babylon. At present, the Sun's unwilling to warm other lands then that of China; and I fear one day he'll fix himself on their Hemisphere, if he can, & not coming to us, give them the four seasons. Nevertheless, Madam, France, by the power that your face gives her, is as able as was Joshua, to chain him up, your triumphs like to the victories of this Hero's; are too glorious to be hid in darkness; he'll sooner break his promise with mankind than not so place himself, as he may always at ease behold the work, of his works the most perfect: see how by his love the last Summer he warmed the Signs with a heat so long and vehement, that he had almost burnt the one half of his houses; and without consulting the Almanac, we could never distinguish the Winter from Autumn by reason of his gentleness, because that being impatient to see you he could not resolve to continue his voyage so far as the Tropic. Do not think that this discourse is an Hyperbole; if heretofore Clymene's beauty made him come down from heaven, the beauty of M. is considerable enough to make him go out of his way. The equality of your ages, the conformity of your bodies, the resemblance perhaps of your humours, may well kindle in him that noble fire; but if you are daughter of the Sun, adorable Alexis, I am to blame to say your father is in love with you: he loves you indeed and the passion that disquiets him, is the flame which made him lament the misfortune of his Phaeton and his Sisters, not that which made him shed tears at the decease of his Daphne. This fire that he burns with, for you, is that with which he formerly burned the whole world, not that flame with which he himself was burnt; he daily beholds you with tenderness & tremble, which brings to his memory the dysaster of his Eldest Son; he sees none on earth but you in which he knows himself; if he views you walking, Behold, says he, the generous confidence, with which I came to encounter the Serpent Python; if he hears you discoursing of some delicate matters, Thus, saith he, I speak upon Parnass●s with my sisters. In fine, this good father knows not, in what manner to express that joy which transports him, when he imagines that he begot you: He is young, as you; you are fair, like him; his temperature and yours is all of fire; he distributes life and death to mankind, and your eyes do the same things as his; you have red hair like him. I was just here in my letter, adorable M. when a censorious person, contrary to reason, snatched away my pen, and told me, That I had undertaken amiss in my Panegyric, to extol a young person for beauty, because she was redhaired. I not knowing how more sensibly to punish this proud thing, then by silence, took another pen, and went on thus. A brave head, covered with red hair, is nothing else, but the Sun in the midst of his rays; or the Sun himself is only a great eye, under a red Periwig; yet all the world speaks ill of it, because few have the honour to be so. And among a hundred Ladies, you shall hardly find one, because they being sent from heaven to command, it's necessary, there should be more subjects than Sovereigns. Do we not see, that all things in nature are more or less noble, according as they are more or less red; amongst the Elements, he that contains the most essence, and the least matter or substance, is the Fire, because of his colour; Gold hath received of his dye, the honour to reign over the Metals; and of all the Planers, the Sun is most considerable, only because he is most red; the hairy Comets that fly up and down the skies, at the death of Heroes, are they not the red moustaches of the gods, that they pluck off for grief? Castor and Pollux, those little fires, that make seamen foretell the end of a storm, can they be any thing else, than the red hairs of Juno, which she, in token of love, sends to Neptune? In fine, had it not been for the desire men had, to possess the fleece of a red sheep, the glory of thirty demigods would be in the cradle of those things, that never were born. And (a ship being yet but a reasonable invention) Americus would not have told us, that the world hath 4 parts. Apollo, Venus, and Love, the fairest divinityes of the Pantheon, are crimson red; and Jupiter is brown but by accident, because of the smoke of his thunder, which hath blacked him. But if the examples of Mythology do not satisfy the obstinate, let them consult History. Samson, whose strength hung at his locks, did he not receive his miraculous energy from the redness of his hair? Did not the destinies make the conservation of the Empire of Athens depend upon one red hair of Nisus? And God, would he not have sent the light of Faith to the Aethiopians, if he could have found amongst them but one red? One would not doubt of the excellency of those persons, if one considered, that all men that were not made by men, and for whose forming God himself chose and kneaded the substance, were red. Adam, that was created by Gods own hand, aught to be the most accomplished of men, he was red. And all perfect Philosophy ought to teach us, that Nature, which inclines to the most perfection, always endeavours in forming a man, to make a red one, just as she aspires to make Gold, by making of Mercury, but that she seldom hits upon it. An Archer is not esteemed unskilful, who letting thirty arrows fly, but five or six hits the mark. As the best balanced Constitution is that, which is between phlegmatic and melancholy, one must needs be very happy, to hit exactly an indivisible point. The flaxen and the black are besides it, that is to say, the fickle and the obstinate; between both is the medium, where wisdom, in favour of red men, hath lodged virtue, so their flesh is much more delicate, their blood more pure, their spirits more clarified, and consequently, their intellect more accomplished, because of the perfect mixture of the 4 qualities. This is the reason, why red men become not so soon grey, as those that are black, as if Nature were angry and unwilling to destroy that, which she took a pleasure in making. In troth, I seldom see a flaxen head of hair, but I think of a distaff ill periwiged. But I grant, that fair women, when they are young, are pleasing; but as soon as their cheeks begin to grow woolly, would one not think, that their flesh divides itself into little threads, to make them a beard. I speak not of black beards, for 'tis well known, if the devil wear any, it cannot be but very dark. Since than we must all become slaves to beauty, is it not far better to be deprived of our freedom by golden chains, then by hempen cords, or iron fetters? For my part, all that I desire, O my fair M. is, that walking of my liberty up and down those golden Labyrinths, that serve you for hair, I may soon lose it, and all that I wish for is when I have once lost it, never to Recover it again, would you but promise memy life shall not exceed my servitude, and that you would not be angry that till death I style myself. Your ay know not what. 11. Of a Country house. SIR, I Have found the Paradise of Eden, I have found the golden Age; I have found the perpetual spring: In fine, I have found Nature in swaddling clouts; one laufs here withal ones heart; the Country Cowkeeper and I am cozengermanes, and the whole Parish makes me believe that one day with a little pains taking I shall be able to teach Robin Goodfellow to whistle. O Good Sir, how can such a Philosopher as you, prefer the vanity, the troubles, and the Confusions of a court, to such a quiet Retirement Ah? Sir if you knew that a Country Gentleman is a disguised Prince, that hears the King spoke of but once a year, and knows him not, but by some old Cousenship; and if from that Court where you are, your eyes were good enough to discern here the fat-fellow that keeps your Pigs, on his belly lying in the grass, quietly snoring a nap of ten hours all of one piece, cure himself of a burning fever by eating a quarter of Rusty becon, you would confess that the sweetness of a quiet life cannot be enjoyed under a guilded sieling, Return then I beseech you to your solitude; for my part I believe that 'tis quite lost in your Memory: without doubt you have quite forgotten it. But in troth, doth there yet remain in your Memory any dark Idea of this enchanted Palace, from which you have banished yourself? Ah I see there doth not, I must send you a drauft of it in my Letter. Hearken to it then, this is it; for 'tis a Picture that speaks. Oh! at the door of the house you meet a star with five accesses or passages; the Oaks that compose it makes one, with ecstasy, admire the excessive height of their tops, raising ones eyes from the Root to the Culmen; then precipitating them down again. One doubts whether the earth bears them, and whether or no they carry not the Earth at their roots: you would think that their proud heads are forced to bend under the weight of the Heavenly globes, which burden they with groaning support; their arms, stretched toward heaven, embracing it, seems to beg of the stars their Influences altogether pure, and to receive them before they have at all lost of their innocence: In the bead of the elements, there on every side the flowers, having had no other Gardener but nature vent a sharp breath that quickens and satisfies the smell. The sweet innocence of a Rose on the Eglantine, and the glorious Azure of a violet under the sweet briers, leaving us not the liberty of choice, makes us judge that they are both one fairer than the other. The spring there composes all the seasons, there no venomous plant buds, but her birth soon betrays her safety, there the brooks Relate their travels to the pebbles, there a thousand feathered voices makes the forest Ring with the music of their songs, and the sprightful assembling of these Melodious throats is so general, that every leaf in the wood seems to have taken the shape and the tongue of a Nighringale, sometimes you shall hear merrily tickle a Consort, another while thay'le drag, and make their Music languish; by and by they'll passionate an elegy by interrupted sobs; and then again soften the violence of their voices, more tenderly to excite Pity, and at last raise their harmony; and what with their Crotchtts and Warbling, send forth their lives and their voices together. Echo is so delighted with it, that she seems to repeat their airs only that she may learn them; and the Rivulets jealous of their Music, as they fly away grumble, much troubled that they cannot equal them. On the side of the Castle two walks discover themselves whose continued green frames an Emeraud too big for the fight: the confused Mixture of colours that the Spring fastens to a million of flowers scatters the changes of one another; and their tincture is so pure that one may well judge that they get so close one to another, only to escape the amorous kisses of the wind that courts them. One would now take this meadow for a very Calm sea; but when the least Zephyrus comes to wanton there, 'tis then a proud Ocean full of waves, whose face furrowed with frowns, threatens to swallow up those little fools: but because this sea discovers no shore, the Eye as affrighted to have run so long without finding any coast, quickly dispatches the thought, and the thought being doubtful too that that which is the end of his sight is the End of the world, doth almost persuade himself that this place is so full of Charms that it hath forced the heavens to unite themselves to the Earth. In the midst of this, so vast and yet so perfect Carpet, runs in with silver bubbles and streams a rustic fountain, who fees the Pillows of his head enamelled with Jessemines, Orange trees, and Myrtles, and the little flowers that throng round about, would make one believe they dispute who shall view himself in the stream first, seeing her face so young and smooth as 'tis, which discovers not the least wrinkle, 'tis easy to judge she is yet in her mother's Breast, and those great Circles with which she binds and twines herself by reverting so often upon herself, witness that, 'tis to her grief and against her will, that she finds herself obliged to go from her native home: but above all things I admire her modesty, when I see her (as ashamed to be courted so near her mother) murmur and thrust back the bold hand that touches her. The Traveller that comes hither to refresh himself hanging his head over the water, wonders 'tis broad day in his Horizon when he sees the funne in the Antipodes, and never hangs over the bank but he's affrayed to fall into the firmament, I could be content to be carried with this fountain into the belly of that pool that devours it; but 'tis so vast and profound, that I doubt whether my Imagination could save itself by swimming. I'll omit the other particulars of your little Fountain bleau, since she hath formerly charmed you as well as myself, and that you know her better; but know nevertheless that I'll show you somewhat in her that is new, even in your Painter's Inventions. Resolve then once to distintangle yourself from the troubles of Paris: your steward swears he'll not kill the brawner till your return, he is resolved to make you lay aside that gravity which you domineer over the people withal, in your Illustrious Offices. Last night at table after having a little trinque, he told us that if you spoke to him by Thou, he would answer you with Thee, and doubt not but he will, since he had the boldness to maintain, that I was a fool because that you paying me no wages, I said I was, Your obedient servant. 21. For Witches. SIR, SInce I had the honour to see you, there is so strange an adventure arrived me, that to give any credit to it, you must have much more faith than that Person, who, by the strength of his, removed Mountains. To begin then my story, you must know that yesterday being on my bead wearied with giving attention to that foolish book that you heretofore so commended, I went forth a walking to dissipate the vain and ridiculous Imaginations, which the dark gibberish Gallimatias of the Sciences had filled me withal: & as I laboured to free my thoughts from the memory of those obscure tales, being got far into your little wood, after a quarter of an hours walk, as I thought, I perceived a broom staff that came and thrust itself between my legs, and made me, in spite of my teeth bestride him, and presently I felt myself fly through the empty air; and now without remembering the place where I was taken up, I find myself upon my feet in the midst of a desert, where I can find no Path. I returned upon my footsteps, but this solitude was a new world to me, I resolved to discover further, but (not seing at all any obstacle) 'twas in vain to strive against the air; my efforts made me only find an Impossibility of getting forwards, at last much wearied I fall on my knees, and that which did further occasion my wonderment, was, that in a moment noon was turned to midnight, I saw the stars shine in the firmament with a blevish fire: the Moon was in her full, but much paler than ordinary, she was thrice eclispt and thrice went below her Circle; the winds were Paralytic, the fountains were mute, the birds had forgot their Chattering, the fishes thought themselves encompassed in glass, all Creatures had no more Motion than was necessary for them to express their fear by. The horror of an astonishing silence, that governed in all places, made Nature seem to be in suspense of some terrible accident, my fear began to be as great as that which the face of the Horizon appeared troubled withal, when, by Moonlight I saw coming out of a vast Grot, a tall and venerable old man, clothed in white, with a swarthy face, his Eyebrows thick and long, a wall and frightful Eye, his beard thrown over his shoulder, on his head he had a hat of verveine, and about him a girdle of Mayfearne woven in tresses, upon his gown near his heart was fastened a Bat half dead, and about his neck he wore a collar set with seven several precious stones; each of which wore the Character of that Planet that governed them. Thus Mystcally dressed and carrying in his left hand a triangular Vial full of dew, and with his right a sappy Elder Rod, one end of which being well tipped with a mixture of all metals, the other served as a Handle to a little Censer; he kissed the flore of his Grot, and after having pulled off his shoes, he grumbling, brought out certain words, from the bottom of his stomach, he went backward under an old Oak, four foot from which he drew three Circles one within another, and the earth Obedient to the commands of this Necromancer trembling put herself into those figures which he intended to have made in her: he wrote in it the names of the Intelligences, as well of the age, as of the year, the season of the months, of the weeks the days, and hours, in their different characters each in their proper place, and centre, every one of them with their particular Ceremonies. This finished, he put his glass in the midst of the circles, opened it, put the small sharp end of his Rod between his teeth, lay down with his face turned to the East, and fell a sleep. About the midst of his sleep, I saw five fern seeds fall into the vial, which when he waked he took out and put one in each ear, another in his mouth the forth he put again into the glass, and the fifth he threw out of the Circles; but hardly was it out of his hand when I saw it encompasst by a Million of Male-ominous creatures, as well Infects as others; he touched with his rod an Owl, a Fox, and a Mouse, which instantly came into the Circles, making a frightful noise; with a brass knife he ripped open their stomaches, and took out their hearts, which he wrapped up in three Bay-leaves, and swallowed them; he took away the liver, which he squeezed into a hexagonal vessel: This ended, he reiterated the suffumigations, he mixed the dew and the blood together in a basin, dipped in it a glove of virgin-parchment, which he put on his right hand; and after four or five horrible houling, he closed his eyes, and began the Invocations. He did hardly stir his lips, nevertheless I heard in his throat a humming, as of many voices mixed together: He was raised from the ground about a palm, and ever now and then he would fix his eyes upon the nail of his left forefinger; his face was much inflamed, and he more disquieted. After many gastfull contortions, groaning, he fell on his knees; but no sooner had he pronounced three words of a certain prayer, but he became more strong than a man, and without wagging, stood the monstrous shock of a most horrible wind, that blowed against him, sometimes in sudden blasts, and sometimes like a whirlwind; this wind seemed to endeavour, to make him go out of the Circles. After this, the three Circles went round under him, there followed a storm of hail as red as blood, and this gave place to a fourth much more terrible; 'twas a torrent of fire, that cracked as it turned round, and divided itself into globes, each of which burst in pieces, with great claps of thunder. This was the last; for a fair light, white and clear, dissipated these sad Meteors. In the very midst appeared a young man, his right leg was on an Eagle, and the other on a Lynx, who gave to the Magician three Vials, full of I know not what liquor. The Magician presented him with three hairs, one plucked from his forehead, the other two from his temples. He was struck on the shoulder with a little wand that this spirit held, and then every thing vanished. This was, when the Stars, grown pale by the arrival of the Sun, joined colour with the Heavens. I was just going to seek out my village, but the Magician having spied me, drew near to the place where I was; although he walked very slowly, yet he was got to me before I saw him wag; he laid so cold a hand upon mine, that it was benumbed a great while after; he neither opened his eyes, nor his mouth: And in this deep silence, he led me over some fields, under the dreadful ruins of an old uninhabited Castle, where the Ages for this thousand years, have been labouring to carry the Chambers into the Cellars. As soon as we were got in, Boast thyself, said he, (turning himself to me) to have seen face to face the Sorcerer Agrippa, whose soul by Metempsychosis, heretofore inspired the learned Zoroastres, King of the Bactrians: Since (almost an Age) Ivanished from amongst men, I have here preserved myself with Aurum Potabile in health, that no disease ever yet disturbed me. Every twenty years I swallow a quantity of that universal Medicine which renews my youth, & restores to my body the forces it hath lost. If thou didst consider, the three Vials that were presented me by the King of the fiery Daemons. The first of them is full of it, the second of powder of projection, and the third of oil of bones: In fine, thou art much obliged to me, since I have made choice of thee, from amongst all mortal men, to assist in these mysteries, which I celebrate but once in 20 years. 'Tis (by my Charms) in my Power at my pleasure, to render a Country fruitful or barren, I stir up wars by breeding dissension among those Genius's that govern Kings, I teach the shepherd the wolves Paternoster, and to the Cunning men how to turn the sieve; I send St. Hermes fire (Jack in a lantern) to the Marches and Rivers to drown travellers, I make the Fairies to dance by moonlight, I encourage the Gamesters to look under the Gallows for the four of clubs. I send at midnight the ghosts out of the Churchyard, wrapped in a sheet, to demand of their heirs the performance of those vows and promises they made to them at their deaths; I command the spirits to haunt the uninhabited Castles, and to strangle those that come to lodge there, till some resolute fellow compels them to discover to him the treasure. I make those, that I will enrich, find hidden wealth. I cause the thiefs to burn Candles of dead men's grease, to lay the Hosts asleep while they rob their houses; I give the flying money, that returns again to the pocket after 'tis spent; I give those Annulets to footmen that enable then to go 200 miles a day; 'tis I that invisible tumble the dishes and bottles up and down the house without breaking or spoiling them. I teach old women to Cure a fever, by words. I waken the Country fellow on St. John's Eve to gather his Herb fasting, and in silence. I teach the Witches to take the form of woolves and eat children, and when any one hath cut off one of their legs (which proves to be a man's arm) I forsake them when they are discovered, and leave them in the power of justice. I send to discontented persons, a tall black man, who makes them promises of great riches and other felicities, if thay'le give themselves to him. I blind them that take Contracts of him, and when they demand thirty years' time I make them see the (3) before the (0) which I have placed after: 'tis I that strangle those that by conjuring raise me and give me nothing; I quietly quit those that when they have called me up, give me a hair, an old shoe, or a straw. I take away from dedicated Churches, the stones that have not been paid for. ay, make the witches seem to those that are invited to sabat nothing but a troop of Cats of which Marcou (a Gib-cat) is Prince. I send all the Confederates to the offering, and give them the Goat's tail (seated on a Joint-stool) to kiss. I treat them splendidly but give them no salt to their meat; and if any stranger ignorant in the Customs gives God thanks, I cause all things to vanish, and leave him 500 Miles from his own home, in a desert full of nettles and thorns. I send to old Lechers beds, Succubusses and to the whorish, Incubuses. I convey Hobgoblins in shape of a long piece of marble, to lie by those that went to bed without making the sign of the Cross. I teach the Negromancers to destroy their Enemies, by waking a little image in wax, which they throwing into the fire or pricking, the Original is sensible of those torments that they expose the Image to. I make Witches insensible in those parts where the Ram hath set his seal. I give a secret virtue to Nolite fieri, when 'tis said backwards, that it hinders the butter from coming. I teach husbandmen to lay under the grounds of that sheepfold which he hath a mind to destroy, a lock of Hair, or a Toad, with three curses, that destroys all the sheep that pass over ' it. I teach the shepherds, to tie a bridegroom's point the marriage day, when the Priest says Conjungo vos; I give that money that is found by the leaves of an old Oak. I lend magicians a Familiar that keeps them for undertaking any thing without leave from Robin-goodfellow. I teach how to break the Charms of a person bewitched, To kneade the triangular Cake of Saint Wolf, and to give it in alms to the first poor body. I cure sick Persons of the Hob-thrush, by giving them a blow with a fork Just between the two eyes. I make the witches sensible of the blows that are given them with an Elder-stick. I let lose the Hobgoblin at the advents of Christmas; and command him to roll a barrel, or draw a chain along the streets, that he may wring off their necks that look out at the window. I teach the Composition of the Charms seals, Talismans', Spells, of the Magic looking glasses, and of the enchanted figures. I teach them to find the Misseltoe of the new year, the wand'ring herbs, the Gamahely and the Magnetic plaster. I send the Goblins the shodmule, the spirits, the Hobgoblins the hags, the night bats, the scrags, the breake-neckes, the black men, and the white women, the phantasms the apparitions, the scarecrows, the bugbears, and the Shadows: in fine, I am the Devil of Vauvert, the Jew errand, and the Grand Huntsman of Fountain-bleau forest. With these last words the Magician vanished, the Colours of the several Objects, which with a thick and black smoke covered the Climate, disappeared; and I found myself upon my Bed, my heart still throbbing, and my body in great disorder, by the distemper of my mind; and with so great a weariness, that when I remember it, I do not think I have so much strength left me, as to write at the bottom of my letter, SIR, Your servant. 13. Against witches. SIR, TEll me true, did not my last letter fright you? say what you will, I believe the great black man made some disorder in you, if not in your soul, at least wise in some of your senses. This you got by having formerly frighted me with spirits, they have had their revenge, and I have maliciously avenged myself for those importunities you have persecuted me withal, to make me acknowledge the truths of Magic. Howsoever I am sorry for the fever, that I am told this horrible Picture hath brought upon you; but to wipe away my fault, I will rub it out, and upon the same cloth show you the deceitfulness of his Colours, of his strokes, and shadows. Consider then a little, (Although so many witches have been burnt in all parts, convinced of having made a compact with the devil, so many poor wretches upon the Pile have confessed to have been at sabat, nay although some at their examination, having confessed to the Judges, that they had eaten at their feasts children, which since their death have been found alive & in health, who being questioned concerning it, know not what was asked them, and understood nothing of it: Yet one is not obliged to believe all things, that a man says, because a man can say all things: For I grant, although a spirit, by a particular permission from God, could return upon the earth, and implore the benefit of any one's prayers, must it therefore be believed, that spirits and intelligences (if there be any such) are so foolish, as to oblige themselves to appear in every corner, at the pleasure of an ignorant brainsick Clown, according as his melancholy humour shall be more or less strong, in his ill-timbered head; or come to the lure of a ridiculous shepherd, like a Hawk to the fist of a Falconer; and to the capricious humour of such a rascal, dance the Matachin or the Antic? No, I do not believe there's any Witches, although many learned personages are of another opinion; and I contradict no man's authority, if that authority be not backed by reason, or if it comes not from God; God, who alone ought to be believed what he says, because he says it. Nor doth the name of Ariosto, although more learned than I, or that of Socrates or Plato persuade me, if my judgement be not convinced by reason, of what they say. Reason only is my Queen, to whom I willingly subscribe. Besides, I know by experience, that the sublimest wits have erred the grosliest, their fall being the greater, in that they are higher than others. In fine, our forefathers have erred formerly, & their children are subject to mistakes at present, and so will ours one day. Let us not then embrace an opinion, because a great many hold it, or because it is the fancy of a great Philosopher; but only because we see more probability it should be so, than otherwise. For my part, I laugh at those Paedants, that have no stronger arguments to prove what they say, then to allege, that 'tis a Maxim, as if their Maxims were more certain, than their other propositions. However, I'll believe them, if they show me a Philosophy, whose principles cannot be questioned or doubted of, in which all the world agrees; or that hath been revealed to us from above; otherwise, I laugh at them. For 'tis easy to prove all things, when one adjusts the principles to the opinions, and not opinions to principles. Besides, although it were just to rest satisfied with those great men's opinions; and though I should be forced to allow, that the first Philosophers have established these principles, I would make them in their turn acknowledge, that those Ancients, no more than we, have not always written what they have believed. The Law and Religion of their Country, hath often obliged them, to accommodate their precepts to the politic intent and necessity; therefore one ought not to believe a man in any thing, but what is humane, that is, possible and ordinary. To conclude, I admit not that there are any witches, unless some body will prove it: If any one can by stronger and more enforcing reasons then my, own demonstrate it to me, you need not doubt, but I'll say to him, Sir, you are welcome to me, you are he that I wished for; I renounce my own opinions, and embrace yours. Otherwise, what advantage would the wise man have over the fool, if he thinks what the fool thinks? It ought to satisfy the vulgar, that a wise head seems to acquiesce the opinions of the greater number, without manacling his own reason, that they may not have a torrent to resist. chose, a Philosopher ought to judge the vulgar, and not judge like the vulgar. However, I am not so unreasonable, now that I have freed myself from the tyranny of Authority, as to establish my own without proofs. You'll therefore please to permit me, to acquaint you with the motives I have had, to doubt of so many wonderful effects, which are related of spirits; I fancy, that I have observed many very considerable things, to free me from these Chimaeras. First then, I never yet heard any story of witches, but I have still observed, that it was said to have been acted above a hundred miles from the place, where 'twas told me; this distance made me suspect, that they had a mind to render it impossible for the curious, to inform themselves of the truth. Add to this, that these men in the shape of Cats, found in the midst of a field, without witnesses, (the testimony of one person only, aught to be suspected in things miraculous) near a Village, (it was the easier to cozen the clowns); 'Twas a poor old woman, (necessity might make her lie, to get money) she was old, (age weakens reason, and makes one talk too much); she hath invented this tale, to entertain her neighbours withal; age decays the sight, she took a Hare for a Cat; age makes one fearful, she thought she had seen fifty for one. For 'tis much more probable, that any one of these may happen, which are every day seen, than a supernatural accident, without reason or example. But pray let us examine the witches that are taken. You'll find, that 'tis a very dull country fellow, that hath not the wit to disentangle himself, from off the snares that they entrap him in, whose understanding is so stupefied with the greatness of the danger, that he is not in a capacity to justify himself, and dares not give any pertinent answer, for fear, lest the preoccupated should conclude, that 'tis the devil that speaks in him. Now if he saith nothing, every one agrees, that he is convinced in his conscience, and presently he is thrown into the fire. But is the devil such a fool? he that at another time could turn him to a Cat, can he not now give him the form of a Fly, that he may escape? No, witches (say they) lose their power, when they are in the hands of justice. O! in good faith, that was well thought on; Mr. John Guillot then, (whose father stole the son's estate) purchased by means of 20000 Crowns, (which his Judge's place cost him) the power to command the devils. The devils indeed have a great respect for thiefs. But these devils at leastwise, should have sent this poor wretch (their humble servant) out of the way, when they knew the Justice was in search after him; for 'tis not the way to encourage any body to serve him, thus to abandon his Creatures; for those that are but spirits he'll make great strides. I have likewise observed that all these pretended Magicians, are so many beggars like the Diogeneses. O heavens, is it then probable that a man would expose himself (upon the hopes to continue poor, hated, and famished) to eternal fire, and to the continual fears of being boiled in all places of Judicature? Satan would certainly give to such a one not the leaves of an Oak, but good weighty money, to purchase him Offices that would protect him from the Justice. But you'll find that the devils of our age are extremely simple, and have not the wit to contrive so many sleights. That loutardly shepherd now in your Prison, that is to be boiled the next Vigil upon what convictions do you condemn him? He was catchtperhaps saying the wolves Paternoster: for God's sake, let him repeat it and you'll find nothing in it but great fooleries, and less hurt in it, than there is in a dead devil, for which none are condemned: besides this, say they, he hath bewitched whole flocks, he did it either by certain words, or by the hidden virtue of some natural poisons; by words, I do not believe, that the four and twenty letters of the Alphabet hatch the occult Malignity of so quick a venom, nor that opening of the mouths, shutting the teeth, clapping the tongue to the palate in what manner soever, hath the power to infect the sheep, or cure them: for if you reply, that 'tis by reason of the Compact, I have not yet read in Chronology, the time in which the Devil agreed with mankind, that when they pronounced certain words (which were to be specified in the Contract) he would kill; at others, heal; and at some others, that he would come and converse with us, I'll grant, although he had passed such a contract with any Particular, yet that particular person would not have had the general consent, thereby to oblige all men to that agreement; nevertheless at some words that a Lout shall unawares pronounce, he'll presently fly unto him (to affright him) and not give the least visit to some powerful, depraved, eminent, and spiritual Person that gives himself to him withal his heart, and one that by his Example will be the occasion of the loss of a hundred thousand souls. You'll allow perhaps, That magical words have no manner of power, but that under such barbarous words they cover the malignant virtue of simples, with which all enchanters poison cattle; well then, why do you not let them suffer under the name of impoisoners and not of witches. They confess (say you) that they have been at sabat, & that they have sent Devils into the bodies of some Persons that have proved Demoniacques. As to the sabat-voyages, this is my belief; they 'noint themselves with some somniferous oils, and as while they wake they easily fancy to be carried aftride upon a broom through the chimmy, into a Hall, where is feasting, dancing, and where they kiss the Goate's brich. The imagination being strongly touched with these apparitions, represents to them in their sleep the same things, as a broom between their legs, a field that they fly over, a goat, a feast, and ladies, and therefore when they wake they think that they have seen that which they only dreamt. Concerning possession of bodies, I'll give you likewise my opinion, with the same freeness. I find in the first place that for one man, there are a thousand women. Is the Devil so great a Lecher to seek with so much ardour to couple which women? No no, but I easily guess the reason, A woman hath a more fickle brain then a man, and consequently more ready to adventure in a Comedy of this nature; she is in hopes, that by speaking a little Latin, making a few faces, and by putting herself into some certain postures, thay'le believe her far beyond the strength and power of a bashful girl; besides, she thinks herself so strong by her weakness, that the Imposture being discovered, thay'le attribute her Extravagances to some suffocation of the Matrix, or at the worst, thay'le pardon the weakness of her sex. You'll answer, it may be, that we must not conclude that none are really possess't, because there are some that are counterfiets and Cheats. But if that be your Gordian-knot, I'll quickly be his Alexander: let us then examine (without caring whether or no we oppugn the opinion of the vulgar) if there have formerly been Demoniacques and if there are any now adays. That there have been some heretofore I do not doubt, because the holy scriptures assures us, that a Chaldean by Magical Art, sent a devil unto the Cadaver of the Prophet Samuel, and made it speak; that David with his Harp conjured that which Saul was possess't withal; and that our Saviour Jesus Christ drove the devils out of the Bodies of certain Jews and sent them into the swine. But we are obliged to believe that the devil's Empire ceased, when our Saviour came into the World. That Oracles were stifled under the cradle of the Messias, & that Satan lost his speech in Bethlehem, the dry influence of the three king's star; having without doubt given him the Pip. Therefore, I laugh at all energumeuus' in our days, and will deride them till the Church commands me to believe them, for to Imagine that the Penitent of Goffridy, the Nun of Loudun, or the Maid at Eureux, are bewitched, because they tumble, show tricks, and make faces. Jack Pudding, scarecrow, and Tabarin, would a done'em; why they cannot so much as speak Latin: Lucifer hath but little care of his devils, not to send them to school; some will answer pertinently enough, when the Exorcist declaims a prayer out of the Breviary, of which (in a manner) they gale the sense by their often going over the same thing: but at othertimes you'll see them counterfeit madness, pretend to a perpetual distraction in the brain when they preach to them. Nevertheless I have catcht some very attentive, who watch for the verse in their hours that they may give an answer to the purpose, (like those that will sing at vespers & know them not) waking at the Gloria Patri etc. that they may gargoyle it in their throats, and spew it out. That which I likewise find very pleasant, is, the contempts they entangle themselves in, when they must obey or not obey. The Conjurator commanded one to kiss the ground, as often as he pronounced the sacred name of God; this devil of obedience did it very devoutly: but when another time he came to command him the same thing, in other terms, (for he conjured him by the Coeternal Son of the Sovereign Being); this Novice of a devil, that was no Theologian, was at a stand, blushed, and began to rail, till the Exorcist having appeased him in more ordinary words, he began again to reason. I observe further, that as the Priest raised his voice, the devil increased his rage, oftentimes at words of very little weight, only because he had spoke then somewhat louder. And contrarily, he swallowed, glib as oil, exorcisms that made me tremble, because he being somewhat weary of bawling, he pronounced them with a low voice. But it was a great deal worse not long after, when an Abbot took them to task; they were not used to his style, which was the reason, that those that would answer, answered so contrarily, and against sense, that the poor devils (in whose forehead there was still some shame left) were lamentably out of countenance, and all that day after, it was impossible to get a word from them. They said, a good while indeed, that they found there were some unbelievers present, and for that reason they would do nothing miraculous, for fear of converting them. But this pretence appeared to me very gross; for if it had been true, to what purpose did they give them notice of it; they ought rather contrarily to have hid themselves in those bodies, to harden us in our incredulity, and not do things, which were capable to disabuse us. You'll answer, That God compels them to it, to manifest the faith. Well, but I am not convinced, nor obliged to believe, that 'tis the devil that shows all these tricks, since a man can naturally do them: To turn one's face behind one, I have seen it done by Gipsies; to leap, who doth not do it, except the Paralyticks? to swear you meet with too many; to make certain Characters upon the skin, either waters or some sort of stones, colours our flesh without a prodigy. If the devils are constrained (as you say) to do miracles to illu ninate us, let them do convincing ones: let them take the steeple of our Lady's Church in Paris, (where there are so many unbelievers) and without breaking, make it dance a Spanish Saraband in St. Dennis' field, we shall then be convinced. I have taken notice likewise, that the Devil, (who is said to have been so great a reviler) in the midst of their mad fits, never induces them to rail one at another; to the contrary, they have for one another a great respect, and are not likely to behave themselves otherwise, because the first that takes offence, discovers the whole mystery. Why, is not your process (my reverend Father) instructed in consequential crimes, which the devil accuses you of? The devil (say you) is the father of lies; why then did you cause the other day a Magician to be burnt, who was only accused by the devil? for, I say with you, that the devil is the father of lies. Confess, confess, most Reverend, that the devil says true, or false, according as 'tis advantageous to your crafty paternity. But (God help us) I see this devil start, when they throw holy water upon him: Is it then a thing so holy that he cannot without horror endure it; that's the reason truly that makes me wonder, how he durst enter into a humane Body, that God hath made after his own Image, capable of the most Beatifique vision, acknowledged his Child, by the regeneration in Baptism; marked with the Holy Oils; The temple of the holy Ghost, and the tabernacle of the holy Sacrament; how had he the impudence to go into such a place, that he must needs more reverence, than water, over which hath only been repeated some prayers. But we shall have a good issue of our business. I see the Demoniach is very much disturbed at the sight of a Cross that is brought before him? O Master Exorcist, how good are you, do you not know that there is no place in nature where there are not crosses, since that every where and in all substances there is length and breadth; and that cross is nothing else but a length, considered with a breadth. If you grant it not, that cross you hold is not a cross because 'tis Ebony, the other is not so because 'tis silver; but both of them are crosses because upon a length, a breadth goes travers. If then this Energumenus, hath a thousand lengths and breadthes that are so many Crosses about her, what need is there to bring her any others? and yet you see this woman for having touched it with her lips perforce, pretends to be interdicted, and is silent. Take, take a good handful of rods and whip her me smartly; for I pass my word, that if it were commanded that all the Energumenus' that could not be cured by a hundred stripes a day, should be thrown into the water) not one would be drowned. 'Tis not as (I told you before) that I doubt of the Creator's power over the Creatures: but unless I am Convinced by the Authority of the Church, which we ought blindly to obey, I'll call all these great Magical effects; the fools Gazettes, or the Credo of those that have too much faith. I perceive my letter is somewhat of the longest, 'twas the subject that carried me beyond my intentions; but you'll pardon this importunity in a person that hath vowed to be till death to you and to your witty tales, An humble servant. 14. To Monsieur Gerzan upon his Book, The Lady's triumph, SIR, AFter those Eulogies you have given to Ladies I am resolved to be no longer a man, I am presently going to offer my wax-light to father Bernard that I may obtain of that Pitiful saint that which the Emperor Heliogabalus impetrated of his Empirics razor, since that the Miracles that every day exaltes that precious Mummy are so numerous, that they overflow the walls of the Charity-convent, as far as your Parnassus. It is not impossible but that one perfectly happy may do for me, that which the pen of an unhappy Poet was able to do for Tiresias; But however 'tis but cutting off that bit which makes me wear Breeches, 'tis a foolish thing indeed, never to mask one's self but in Carnival time: in truth I could hardly have believed it, if you had not sent me your book. Well did our Saviour know, what one day you would say upon this subject, when at the Confusion of mankind he would be borne of a woman, doubtless he knew the worthiness of their sex. 'Tis likewise an Evident mark of the particular esteem he hath of them, that he hath chose them to bear us, being not willing to trust us in our youth, to ourselves, but nature likewise hath taught us by the distribution of her riches, that she would advance the younger to the prejudice of the firstborn, giving him beauty, every lineament of which is an Army that at its pleasure overthrows Thrones, ravishes Diadems, and drags into captivity the haughty powers of the earth: And if like us they do not apply themselves to Murders; if it be horror to them to wear by their sides that which makes us detest an Executioner; 'tis because, 'twere a shame, that those which give us life should carry that about them, which takes it away; and likewise because 'tis much more honest to sweat at the Construction, then at the Destruction of ones kind. In point of face than we are not to compare: and in good faith, generally in all blessings of the earth, they exceed us; and if hair make the principal distinction between the brutal and the reasonable, men are (at leastwise in the stomach, the cheeks, and the chin) more beasts than women; nevertheless in spite of all these dumb, but convincing predications of God and of Nature, had it not been for you, this deplorable sex was truckling under ours; you, that are feeble and ready to fall from this life, have raised up many thousand Ladies that had no supporter. Let them brag (after this) that they brought you to light, although their delivery had been more painful than was that of Hercules his Mother; yet they are still much your debtors, who not content to have brought them forth all at once, have made then triumph in their births. A woman indeed carried you, nine Months, but you have carried them all above the heads of their Enemies for twenty ages. They had fought, they had conquered, for other twenty; and you within this four Months only have decreed them the Triumph: yes, Sir every period of your book is a victorious Chariot, where they more proudly triumph then ever the Scipios, or the Caesars did in Rome: you have made a Country of Amazons of all the Earth, and have brought us to the distaff: In fine, one may say that before you, all women were but pawns, which now you have made Queens; In the mean while, we see that you betray Us, that you turn your back to Mankind, and fly to the other sex; but how can we punish you for this offence, how can we resolve to defame a person that hath got our Mothers and Sisters of his side: besides we cannot accuse you of Cowardice, you that have taken the weakest side; or tax your Pen with self interest, having begun the praises of Ladies at an age that renders you incapable of receiving any favours from them. Confess however after having made them Triumph; and having Triumphed in their Triumph, that their sex would never have been Conquerous without the help of ours. That which (in truth) makes me wonder, is, that you have not put into their hands to destroy us the usual arms; you have not nailed stars to their Eyes; you have not raised Mountains of snow, instead of their breasts. Gold, Ivory, Azure, Corrail, Roses and Lilies, have not been the Materials of your fabric; like to our Modern writers, who notwithstanding the Sun's diligence to get home betimes, have the impudence to rob him in broad day light, and the stars likewise (but those I do not pity, teach them to walk so much a nights) but neither fire, nor flame, hath given you any cold fancies. You have made Thrusts at us which we know not how to ward; never man was raised so high upon women. To conclude, I find in your Book so divine conceptions that I can hardly believe the Holy Ghost was at Rome when you Composed it; The Ladies never came forth of the Press in so good a posture, nor was I ever better resolved never to go more to the tomb of father Bernard to see a Miracle, since Monsieur de Gerzan lies at the Church doer; O gods, once more how rare a thing is your Ladies! you have by this Panegyrique so obliged the sex, that now a days to merit a Queen's affections one need only be, SIR, your servant. 15. The duelist. SIR, ALthough I am ready to burst with health, yet I have been sick this three weeks; ever since my Philosophy was at the mercy of the Gladiators, I have been troubled with the quartan and the tertian; I should have lost the knowledge of paper if Challenges were written on any thing else: already I cannot distinguish betwixt ink & blacking: and in fine, to give you an answer, I was almost forced to write to you with my sword, so great a reputation it is to write ill among persons whose plumes are never cut. God almighty I think (if he would end my quarrels) must compass somewhat as Miraculous as Caligula's wish; if all mankind had but one head; if of all the living were left but one; that would be another duel for me to fight, you would certainly be much to blame, to call me now the first of men, for I vow to you, I have been second to every body above this month; your departure sure must needs have desarted Paris, and made grass grow in every street, for where soever I go, I find myself always in the field: In the mean while 'tis not without hazard, the Picture which you caused to be made of me, hath perhaps been so well liked, that death it may be hath a mind to the original; To that purpose she brings me into a 1000 dutch quarrels I almost fancy sometimes that I am become a Porcupine since no body comes near me but they are incensed & pricked; and every body knows that when any one bids his Enemies, go mischief himself, 'tis making work for me. Do you not see likewise that there are now more shades upon our Horizon, than there was at your departure? 'tis because (since that time) my hand hath so peopled Hell that he spews them up again upon the earth. 'Tis indeed a great consolation to me to be hated, because I am beloved; to find every where Enemies, because I have friends in all places; and to see that my misfortune proceeds from my happiness: but I am afraid that this same Itch of glory, will oblige me to carry my name even to Paradise, sooner than I would. Therefore to avoid these dangerous Prophecies, I conjure you to return speedily, and restore me to my Philosophical humour: for 'twould much trouble me that instead of finding me in my study at your return, you should find in a Church, Here lies, SIR, Your servant. 15. Upon a Recovery. SIR, YOu'll permit me to jest with your fever, now that she hath turned her back to you: by my troth, I wonder how she durst throw her glove to so bold a Cavalier as you; for all the bravadoes she made at her entering the lists, I fore saw the shame of her defeat; in the mean time, every body believed you upon your way to the Elysium fields; and already some (none of your dearest friends) published your arrival in that fearful City, whose suburbs you were not yet come neerto: in troth, I admire, that you (who always make choice of that which is most easy, there being but a stride betwixt your Chamber and the Chapel where your Ancestors sleep) should so suddenly face about; how ever I'll maintain it to the teeth of your stout-heart, that you have behaved yourself like an wise man. That lodging is not good, where the host never changes his sheets; and although the Bed stands so firm that nothing can shake it but an Earthquake, yet the Chamber is cold and rheumatic; they observe there, perpetual fasts, and notwithstanding (according to the Flemish fashion) the Beer is always by you, yet you drink nothing but holy water: besides you would not have found there one reasonable creature, of either sex; for men are not admitted there, till they have given up their spirits, and senses; and for the women (although they have there the good quality to hold their peace, which they cannot do here, yet they are so ugly that the greatest beauties amongst them are flat-nosed; Do not then repent (Generous, as we believe you) to have made so good a use of the Privilege of Normandy: the shadows there below, are not altogether so pleasing as those of your close walks; and I protest to you, you were going to far a journey, in the twinkling of an eye, that you could not have come back again before the Resurrection, nor could I have procured any body here that would have undertaken to have told you from me that I am, SIR, Your servant. 16. Against a Coward. SIR, I Know that you have too much wisdom ever to advise a man to a duel; therefore I ask your Counsel in one that I am resolved to fight: for (as you know very well) stained-honour cannot be washed clean but with blood. Yesterday I was called Fool, and one took the boldness before my face to give me a box on the Ear: 'tis true 'twas in the Company of very honourable persons; some that are ignorant in Composing such matters tell me, that I must revenge myself or perish. You Sir, my dearest friend, whose judgement is too good to excite me to any cruel action, tell me, Have I not been sufficiently abused already by the tongue, and the hands of this Coward, not to provoke his sword too? for although it troubles me to be called fool, yet 'twould much more vex me, if a scandal should be raised that I was dead: if I were shut up in my grave, he might at his pleasure and in safety speak ill of my Courage; had I not better then stay in the world, that I may be always ready to chastise him, when his temerity shall provoke me. Infalliably, those that advise me to the Tragedy, do not consider that if I am the Catastrophe, he'll laugh at my valour; if I kill him, people will be apt to think that I sent him out of the world, because I durst not stay here whilst he was alive; if I take away his sword thay'le say I apprehended his being armed; if we come off with equal honour, to what purpose should we expose ourselves to the worst of all dangers, (which is death) and decide nothing? Besides although I had Mars his power, and could end the Combat to my honour, he might nevertheless brag that he had forceed me to commit a great folly. No, no, I'll not unsheafe, to drive your enemy by death far from you, or to remove yourself from him by it, is to fear him: For my part, I fear not to be, or to let him be. He thinks it an honour to him, that he never stood in fear of the Parques,; if he'll have me believe it, let him kill himself. I'll consult all the wise men for this threescore or fourscore years, and if I and he hath done well, I'll then endeavour to live as many more, and repent, to expiate my cowardliness. You'll think perhaps this proceeding (in a man of courage as I am) very strange; but to speak my mind freely to you, Sir, I find, that life is so fine a thing, that I had rather content myself with this that I enjoy, than hazard for a better, and get a worse. This same Monsieur le Mat amore would, it may be, die, that he might be quickly out of his pain: But I that am more stout, endeavour to live a great while, that I may run the hazard of being a long time, in a capacity to die. Doth he think to advance his credit, by declaring that he is weary, and desires to return to darkness, his first lodging? What, is he afraid of the Sun? poor fool, if he knew what a scurvy thing it is to be deceased, he would not make so much haste. 'Tis not bravely done in a man to hazard his life, before he is thirty years old, because he exposes that that he knows not; but if after that age he ventures it, I'll maintain he's mad, having known it, to venture it. For my part, I like daylight well, and love not to sleep under ground, because one cannot see there. Let him not be puffed up, though, at this refusal; for I'd have him know, that I have two or three killingthrusts, besides other sleights; and I will not fight for fear of discovering them. There are a hundred other reasons, that make me abhor Duels; Yea, I should go into the field, and the Sith would perhaps dispatch me for t'other world among the grass: alas, my creditors wish no better, that they may accuse me of bankrupt. But doth he think, if he had taken away my life, that he had done with me? To the contrary, I should by it become more terrible, and I am confident in a fortnight after, he could not look upon me, without being frighted. Nevertheless, if he aspires to the honour of destroying me, provided I am in good health, I permit him to brag in all places, that he was my hangman; for if he had killed me, the honour would not be great, a few Spanish figs would do as much. He fancies perhaps, that Nature hath used me very ill, in denying me courage; but let him learn, that Nature cannot do us a greater shrewd turn, then to employ it against Fate; and that the least Flea alive, is better than the great Alexander dead. And in fine, that I find myself unworthy to oblige the blessed Torches, to weep upon my Scutchons. The truth is, I love to be told, that I have all the qualities of a good wit, except that of a happy memory, which I cannot away with, for some reasons. Another thing forbids me fight too; I have writ my Epitaph, which hath much wit & sharpness in it, provided I live a hundred years: but if I should hazard myself, and die sooner, the jest would be lost. Add to all this, that above all things I abhor sickness, and there is nothing more contrary to health then death. Is't not better then, to encourage one's self to become a coward, then to be the occasion of so many dysasters? so (strong in our weakness) none can see us tremble or look pale, but for fear of having too much courage. And to thee, comfortable Cowardice, I vow to rear an Altar, and promise to serve thee with so devout a worship, that (to begin from this very day) I dedicate this Epistle to the faint-hearted, the stoutest of all your children, for fear (if I had sent it to some brave fellow) he might have thought, that I was a man that would serve him, because of the four scurvy words, that one is obliged to put at the bottom of every Letter. I am Your Servant. 17. Against a Detractor. SIR, I Know, that so ignoble a Soul as yours, cannot naturally abstain from detracting, nor is it an abstinence that I would condemn you to. The only courtesy that I ask of you, is, that you would tear me so softly, that I may seem not to feel you. By this you may know, that I have good intelligence. I thank God, that he hath given me a soul so reasonable, that I do not believe the world in every thing, because the world can say all things; otherwise, I should have applied to your disease of the spleen, a more powerful and solid Antidote, than this of discourse: Not that I ever expected any very civil actions from those, that have lost their humanity; but I could not believe, that your brains had so generally been shipwrackt, upon the Rhetorical shelves, that you had born in Philosophy a man without a head. One would have wondered in truth, that in so vast a body, your little wit did not lose itself. Nor was it very long lived, for I have heard some years since, that you cannot leave this life, but that your miraculous death will make you be canonised: Yea, take leave of the Sun when you please, you are sure of a line in our Litanies, when the Consistory shall hear that you are dead, without losing your senses. However, comfort yourself, you'll not hold out the less for that; the Deer, and the Ravens, whose wits are proportionable to yours, live four hundred years. And if the want of brains be the occasion of long life, without doubt you are he, that must write Mankind's Epitaph. Certainly, 'tis by reason of the brutish instinct of your nature, that you make choice of gold and precious stones, to defile with your venom. Permit me then, (although you pretend to exempt yourself from the power, that God hath given men over beasts) to command you, to spew upon something more foul than my name, and to remember, (for I believe, beasts of your nature have some kind of remembrance) that the Creator gave a tongue to those of your species, only to swallow, and not to speak. Remember it then, 'tis the best counsel that you can take; for, although your weakness excites compassion, yet, the same in Fleas and Lice that disturb us, doth not oblige us to pardon them. In fine, Simulacre of envy, leave your biting; for although I am not over sensible of an Injury, yet I am very severe to punish it: nothing could hinder the virtue of a Hellebore (which in French is called Tricot) which I would chastise you with; nay and to show you that I am a Philosopher (a thing which you believe not) I would do it with so little animosity, that with my Hat in one hand and a good Cudgel in the other, breaking your bones, I would tell you that I am SIR, Your humble servant. 18. To Madam***** MADAM, IF all men were obliged to send money (as I am feign to do) to facilitate the reading of my letters, The Balzacks had never writ, and the blind would be able to read. But what? unless mine be made clear by the reflection of some golden Lewises, I am sure they appear Hebrew to you; to open the mouth and move the lips in all forms necessary to express our language, seems all Arabic; to speak French to you one must open ones hand, thus my purse is become my only Organ, by which I can explain to you the hard places of the Bible, and render the Centuries of Nostredamus as easy to you as the Pater: In fine Madam, 'tis of you alone that it may with truth be said, No money, no Suisser. However notwithstanding your humour, I easily comfort myself, knowing that as long as you change not, I shall be sure still to drive out of your Body the devil of avarice more easily with the Cross of some Pistols, then with holy water or Exorcisms: But I am to blame to charge you with this baseness. Contrariwise they are virtuous motives that makes you proceed thus; for if you fall oftener under the Cross then the malefactors of Judea, 'tis because you believe that the Just-ones can ask nothing unjustly of you, and that Gold the symbol of purity, cannot be given you but with pure intentions: besides I think that as you are a good Christian, so you are a better subject, for that you humble yourself before those that brings you the Image of our Kings; and that you being of an exemplary probity, who will wrong no body, you are so scupulous in the distributing your favours, that you rely more upon the embracement of ten pistols then of nine: this Oeconomie doth not at all displease me, for, holding my Purse in one hand, I am sure to hold your heart in the other; That which troubles me, is, that that Image (which you often swore had made so deep impressions in your heart) cannot stay with you three days without paying for his lodging, but he is turned out by head and shoulders: for my part I believe you have forgot the definition of a man, for all your actions prove, that you take me for an Animal donant, whereas by the opinion of Aristotle I thought myself an Animal rational: but I plainly see that I must resolve to cease to be what I am, at that very moment that I cease to feel in my pocket; Rectify I pray you this Error, that very ill becomes your youth, and this Generosity you whereby you become pale: for 'tis a shame for to take wages of me that am, Madam, Your servant. 19 Of a Dwarf. SIR, BY the affection I bore you (notwithstanding your undesert) I have made you worthy of being my Enemy; if the Philistines heretofore had not died by the hands of Samson, we should not have known now, that there had been any Philistines; they were beholding to their death for their life; and if they had lived ten years later, they would have died thirty ages sooner; thus you, in spite of me, reap the same glory; by your baseness having compelled me to punish you. I know I shall be told, that by killing of a Pigmy I shall not add to my fate the substance of a glorious Epitaph. But to look uninteressed upon the reverse of the Paradox, That Marius, that in three Combats made a grave for three Nations was not esteemed a Coward for killing the frogs in that marsh, wherein he cast himself; and Socrates by killing the louse that bit him in Prison, did not lose the honour of being the prime man in the universe; No, no, little dwarf, (do not think yourself any other) endeavour to humble this nothing of yours; and believe as an article of faith, (if you be still as little as you was on your birth day) that the heavens permits it, to hinder small Evil from becoming great: In fine, you are no man, what (a devil) are you then? you are perhaps a Mommy, that some spirit has stolen from the physician's College, to fright the world withal: nor is this very improbable; since the Eyes are the Mirrors of the soul, yours is something very deformed; nevertheless you boast of my friendship. O heavens, chastiser of heresies, punish this with thunder. I have loved you then, and given up my heart an offering to you; it seems then, you thought me so foolish, as in charity to have given my soul to the devil: But 'tis not of me alone, that you have thus ill spoken; the most flattering Eulogies that come from you, are Satyrs, and God himself had not scaped you, if you had known him. All things that breathe, concerned in the destruction of Monsters, would before this have tempted me to kill you, but they have forborn it, as being assured, that in me alone you had Your Party, Your Judge, & Your Executioner. 20. Against Soucidas. UDs death, master rascal, I find that you have the impudence to live, notwithstanding you injured me; you, that signify nothing in this world, and that are at best but a boil in Nature's buttocks: you, that will fall so low, if I give over supporting you, that a Flea licking the ground, will hardly distinguish you from the pavement: you, in fine, so foul and stinking, that makes men doubt when they see you, whether your mother was not delivered of you backward. If you had sent at least, and begged leave of me for time for a peccavi. But, without satisfying your self, whether 'twas my pleasure you should see to morrow, or die to day; You have the impudence to eat and drink, as if you were not dead. Ha! I vow I will so annihilate you, that it shall not be true to say, that you ever lived. Doubtless you are in hopes to mollify me, by the dedication of some troublesome Burlesque. No, no, I am inexorable; 'tis resolved you shall die, and that presently, and then (according as a good humour may render me merciful) I'll raise you again to read my Letter; for what if, to regain my favour, you should put my name in the front of a farce. I know, that all things that are foolish, do not cause laughter; and besides that, to make something very ridiculous, you need only speak seriously. Your Poems have too much of the shambles in them, and that I think is the reason, that your Judgement of Paris doth not sell. Then (if you'll take my advice) save yourself, and fly to Pegasus his Bar, you'll make there an incorruptible Judge, since your judgement cannot be bought. To proceed; 'Tis not only from your Bookseller, that I heard you made Rhymes, I did much suspect it before; for 'twould have been a great miracle, that in so corrupt a volume as your body, the worms should not have had footing. Your very breath is sufficient to make us believe, that by agreement with death, you are to breathe nothing but infection; and your musk-comfits cannot prevent your stinking, in every one's opinion. I am not incensed against this putrefaction, 'tis the fault of your leprous parents. Your very flesh is nothing else, then earth chapt by the Sun, & so dunged; that if every plant that hath been set, had taken root, you would now have upon your shoulders a tall copses. After this, I do not at all wonder, that you say, you are not yet known: four foot of dirt indeed keeps you from being seen; you are so finely buried under the dunghill, that (if you did not want a potshard to scrape you) you would be a complete Job. In troth, you give the lie bravely to those Philosophers, that slight the Creation; if any of them be now to be found, I wish they may meet with you, for after they have seen you, they'll easily believe, that Man may have been made of dirt. They'll preach you, and make use of your own self, to draw you from that sad Atheism you groan under. You know, that I do not speak by rote, and that I am not him alone, that hath heard you pray to God, to give you so much grace, as not to believe in him. Why how now, impious wretch! God dares not shut a door against you, when you fly from a beating, but it is presently by you broken down; and yet you begin to believe in him again, only that you may have some body to swear by, when your dice do not give a favourable answer to your avarice. I grant, that yours is not a fortune that can bear a loss patiently, for you are as beggarly as Diogenes, and hardly would the whole earth be enough to satisfy you, that is, it hath made you affront such a world of people. 'Tis no more possible for you, to find out a street in this City, to walk in, that is not a Creditrix, unless the King causes another Paris to be built in the air. The other day, at a Council of War, the Marshal de Jurenne was advised, to put you into a morter-piece, and let you fly into Saint Menehou, to compel the inhabitants for want of provisions, in three days to surrender. In troth, I think, that this stratagem would take, since your nose, that hath not the use of reason; that poor nose, the resting place and the paradise of fillips, seems to turn up, only to get further off your famished mouth: your teeth (good god! how I run on) are more to be feared then your hands, their length and rottenness fright me. But some body would upbraid me, and say, that I torment too much a person, that says, he hath so great an esteem for me. O little Jackanapes, O Puppet incarnate, can it be possible? but I see you leap at this glorious surname? Alas, ask all the world what you are, and you shall see, if every body doth not say, that you have nothing in you of a man, but the resemblance of a Baboon. I compare you not to this little fourfooted man, because I think you discourse as well as a Monkey; no, no, Tumbler, for when I consider you thus flesh-forsaken, I imagine, that if you stir, your sinews are dry enough, to make that noise, which you call words; that, infallibly, is the reason you prate, and riggle up and down without any interval. But since there is a speaking, pray tell me, if you speak by stirring, or if you stir by speaking? that which makes me doubt, that all the noise that you make, comes not from your tongue, is, that one tongue cannot speak a fourth part of what you talk, and that the most part of your discourses are so far from reason, that one may well think, that you speak from a part that is not very near the brain. In fine, my little Ape, it is so true that thou art all tongue, that (if it were no impiety to adapt sacred things to profane) I should believe that St. John Prophesied of you, when he writ that the word was made flesh: And indeed if I were obliged to write as much as you speak, 'twere but necessary for me to become Pen; but since that cannot be, you'll permit me to bid you farewell; Adieu then, little companion, for you would be but scurvily obeyed if I were Your servant. 21. Letter. SIR, SO many caresses of Fortune as I have deprived myself of, in losing your friendship, persuades me at last to repent that I contributed so much to the loss of it; and if I am in disgrace, I confess I deserve to be so, for not being more careful to preserve myself in your esteem, the esteem of a Person that makes the least that visits him, pass under the title of Count and marquis. Certainly Sir, you make yourself the father of many great Persons, that did not believe themselves so; and I begin to perceive that I was much to blame, thus to neglect my good fortune; for by this account I might perhaps have got a principality; There are some that condemn this Prodigal humour in you, but they are ignorant, that 'tis your great desire of multiplying the Nobility, that obliges you to these Magnificent actions, and that being uncapable of producing Gentlemen according to the flesh, you will at least create them according to the spirit. The Romanticke Authors that you are acquainted withal, do oftentimes give Empires to those that perhaps before enjoyed not two Acres of ground, and your talon is so like theirs that it gives you the same Privileges. 'Tis well enough known, that all those great Authors do not speak better than you, because you say the very same as they do, and that every moment you vomit out Cassander and Polexander, so undigested, and as you took them in, that one would think one saw in your Mouth the very paper under the words: the Critics mutter, that the great noise that you make in the world, is no sign of a great wit; that Empty vessels sound more than full ones, and that perhaps by reason of the Concavity of your empty brain your mouth (like to a Grot) makes an ill distinguished Echo of all the sounds that strikes it. But you must comfort yourself for all this; for that man that can hinder envy from biting virtue, is yet unborn: for I grant, as they say, that you are no great wit, you are nevertheless a great man; what, you are able by your very shadow to black a whole tennis court; none hears your stature spoken of but believe that one is a telling a story of a Cedar or a Fir-tree; and others that know you more particularly provethat you have nothing of man but the voice, assuring us that they have learned by tradition that you are an Oak transplanted from the forest of Doone: 'tis not by my advice that they give this testimony, for I have told them a hundred times that 'twas not likely that you were an Oak seeing the most learned all agreed that you are but a block; for my part I that have been of a longer acquaintance with you, maintain to them, that 'tis very far from truth, to imagine that you are a tree; for, although your superior part (which by reason of the situation is called your head) doth no reasonable nor sensitive function, yet I could not believe it to be of wood; but I imagine, that it was deprived of the use of its senses. And because that one humane soul being not large enough to animate from one end to the other so vast a Colosse; nature was forced to leave the upper region, desert. And indeed, is there any body that knows not, that when nature lodged that, which in others is called wit, in your immense body, for all her stretching and pulling she could never make it reach to your head; your very Members are so prodigious, that who considers them thinks you have two Giants hung to the bottom of your belly instead of thighs and your mouth is so wide that I am sometimes afraid that your head will fall into it; in truth if 'twere an Article of our faith to believe that you are a man, I should have strong motives to suspect, that to give life to your body, they had been fain to put into it, the universal soul of the world; You must needs be something very great indeed, since the whole Community of Brokers are employed to clothe you, or else that those people seeking to sell their commodities, and not being able to bring all the streets in Paris to the market, have laden you with their frippery, that the market may walk about the streets: but this reproach needs not trouble you, contrariwise 'tis very advantageous to you, it makes you known to be a public Person, since you are clothed at the public charge, besides many other things renders you very considerable, without adding to them; that as the Egyptians judged of their abundance, by the thickness of the mud of Nilus, after her overflow, so may we by your good case, suppute the number of illegitimate embraces, that have been made in your suburbs. Well, but concerning the Tree I just now compared you to, 'tis said, you are so fruitful a one, that there's never a day, but you bring forth: But I know, that these kinds of injuries come not near you, and that your calumniators (when the third coat of the Cards was your Picture) durst not offer so many affronts to your face; you then wore a blade, that would have had satisfaction of such backbiters, they would not have accused you of impudence, as now they do, when you was in a condition to change your colour so often. These, Sir, in a manner, are the abuses, with which they persecute your lamentable reputation: I would make a little longer Apology for them, but that my paper being at an end, I must be so to. Permit me then to take my leave of you, without the customary ceremonies: for these persons that thus scorn you, and whom I have a great esteem for, would think, that I were a servant to the Jamboncineuxes servant, if I had said at the bottom of this Letter, that I am, SIR, Your Servant. Tambourineux. 22. Consolation for one of his friends, upon the Eternity of his Father in Law. THe Doctors (better then I) will one day ease you of the life of this person, let them but alone, their strokes none can put by. You'll answer me without doubt, That he hath already above a dozen times, passed by the time of dying, that the Parque forgot him, and that having gone so far beyond him, she is now loath and lazy to come back so far and fetch him. No, no, Sir, be in good hope, till he hath lived nine hundred years, the age of Methusalem. But speak to him continually, and that scoldingly, roar, play the devil, thunder in the house, let every thing be cross to him, and take some course to make him weary of his life: Why, Artephius and the Sibyl Cumea, lived nothing in respect of him. He was brought forth before Death was born, and that's the reason death dares not strike him, for she's afraid to kill her father; and if this consideration did not hinder her, she sees him so weak with age, that he would not be able to go into th'other world. Besides too, I think another thing may be the reason, which is, that death, who sees him do no action of life, takes him rathtr for a statue, than a living creature, and thinks it belongs rather to time or fortune, to overthrow him, then to him. After this, Sir, I much wonder, that you should say, that he, (being ready to close the circle of his days) being arrived at that point where he first set forth, he's becoming a child again. Ah, Sir, you jest, and for my part, I cannot so much as believe, that he ever was one: What, he a Boy? No, no, he never was, or Moses was out in his Calculation of the world's creation. Though, if it be permitted us to name every thing so, that can hardly die, the functions of a child I grant you; for he must indeed be more ignorant than a plant, that knows not how to die, that which every thing that hath life, understands without a Master. Oh, had he been but known by Aristotle, that Philosopher would not have defined Man a rational Animal. Those of Epicurus his sect, which demonstrate, that the Beasts have the use of reason, must except this: Ah! if it were but true that he were a beast. But alas, in the order of animated beings, he is a little more than a Artichoke, and somewhat short of an Oyster: insomuch that, but that you think he hath no feeling, I should believe him to be that which they call the Sensitive plant. Confess then, that you are to blame, to be weary of his life; he hath not yet lived, he hath only slept, have patience at least, till he hath taken a nap. Hath no body told him, are you sure, that death and sleep are brothers? He speaks perhaps a scruple, (being tender conscienceed) having enjoyed me, to have any thing to do with t'other. Infer not hence, that I would by this prove, that the person of whom we speak is a foolish man; not at all, he is nothing less than a man: For however he may have been baptised like us, that's a privilege the parish-Bells enjoy as well as he. I could speak of his life, till I end my own, to allay your griefs; but sleep begins to cause so great weaknesses in my hand, that my head for company falls upon my ear. Ah, as I live I write I know not what. Farewell, good-night. SIR, Your Servant. 23. Against a Plagiary. SIR, SInce our friend planders our Conceptions, 'tis a sign he esteems us; he would not take them, if he did not believe them good; and we are much to blame to take it ill, that having no children of his own, he adopts ours. That which troubles me, (for you know, that I am a revenger of wrongs, and am very much inclined to distributive Justice) is, to see him attribute to his wicked Imagination, the good services done him by his Memory, and that he calls himself the father of a thousand high fancies, which at most he hath been but a midwife to, often. This, Sir, let us brag, that we write better than he, whilst he writes just as we do; and laugh, to see him at this age have a writing-Master by him, since by it he doth us no other mischief, then to render our works more legible. We ought chose receive with respect, those wise and moral advertisments, by which he endeavours to reclaim the extravagances of our youth; yea certainly, we ought to give more faith to them, and make no more doubt of them, then of the Evangelists; for all the world knows, they are not things that he hath devised. In troth, to have such a friend, is to maintain a Press at an easy rate. For my part, I imagine, (for all his great Manuscripts) that if after his death, they make an Inventory of his Study of Books, that is, of those that proceeded from his own brain, all his works together, (taking away that which is not his) will make a Library of white paper. He assumes the spoils of the dead, and he believes to have invented that which he remembers. But 'tis but an ill proof, of the noble extraction of his thoughts, to derive their antiquity but from a man that is still alive: But by this he concludes for the Metempsychosis, and shows, that if he should make use of what Socrates was the Author of, he should not rob him, he himself having formerly been the same Socrates that invented them: And then, hath he not memory enough to be rich with that only? why he hath one so vast, that he remembers that which was said, thirty Ages before he was in the world: Obtain of him for me, (I that am a little more sensible than the dead) a permission to date my thoughts, that my posterity may not remain doubtful. There was heretofore a goddess, Echo, this without doubt must be the god; for, like her, he never says any thing, but what others have said before him, and repeats it so verbatim, that transcribing the other day one of my Letters, (he called it composing) he had the most ado in the world, to subscribe, Your servant, Beaulieu, because at the end of it there was, Your Servant, De Bergerac. 24. Another, on the same subject. SIR, AFter having put in a heat against us, this man, that is nothing but phlegm, do we not fear, that one of these days they will accuse us of burning the River? This water-wit murmurs continually, like the fountains, yet no body understands what he says. Ah! Sir, what a strange accident this man makes me foresee at the end of the world, which is, that if he dies not, till his memory have an end, the resurrection trumpets will never be silent, this only faculty in him leaves room for no other; and he is so great a persecutor of common sense, that he makes me suspect, that the universal judgement was promised, that such as he might have some, who had none in particular. And to speak ingenuously, who ever sends him out of this world, will be much to blame, to dispatch him without reason. Nevertheless he speaks as much as all Authors, for they all seem to have spoken but for him: He never opens his mouth, but we find a theft in it, and he is so accustomed to thieving, that when he holds his tongue, 'tis that he may steal from those that are dumb. For all this, ours is but a false valour, and we unjustly share the advantages of the combat, to oppose our understandings that have three faculties, to his, that hath but one. Therefore it is, that he hath a great vacuum in his head, he ought to be pardoned, since it was impossible for Nature to fill it with a third part of a reasonable soul: But to make amends for that, he never lets it sleep, he still employs it in undressing. And those great Philosophers, who by professing poverty, thought to have freed themselves from contribution, pay him every day (the very poorest amongst them) a tax of ten Conceptions, and this wretched wit-stealer lets not one escape, but imposes on them according to the extent of their income: 'Tis to little purpose that they hide themselves, he'll make them disburse, and speak English: Nay, sometimes they must be content to see their whole Estate confiscated, when they have not wherewithal to pay the tax. He exercises these rapines in safety, for Greece and Italy being under other Princes, he shall not be questioned in England for the robberies he hath done them. I believe he thinks, because that the Heathens are our enemies, that what he plunders them of, is lawful prize. This, Sir, is the reason, that in every page of his Epistles, we see the Cameter of the living and of the dead; after this, you need not doubt, but that (if at the resurrection, every one takes that which belongs to him) the sharing of his writings, will be the last difference among men. After he hath been five of six days in our companies, rifling us, more laden with points of wit, than a Porcupine, he goes and sticks them in his Epigrams and Sonnets, like Pins into a Cushamet: Yet for all this, he boasts, that there is nothing in his Writings, that doth not as justly belong to him, as the Paper and Ink which he paid for; that the twenty four Letters of the Alphabet are as much his, as ours, and consequently, the disposition of them: And that Aristotle being dead; he may lawfully seize upon his books, since his lands, which are immovables, are not now without Masters. But besides all this, when we find sometimes the cloak upon his shoulders, he adopts it his own, and protests, that he never lodged in his memory any fancy but his own; but that may well enough be, his writings being the Hospital where he receives mine. Now if you should ask me the definition of this man, I would answer you, That he is an Echo, that hath purged himself of a short breath, and that would have been dumb, if I had never spoke. I for my part am an unfortunate father, that lament the loss of my children. 'Tis true, he is very generous of his wealth, for 'tis more mine than his own; and 'tis true too, that if they were on fire, I should, in throwing water on them, save nothing but mine own. Therefore I retract all that I have reproached him with: And indeed, of what fault can I accuse an innocent, that hath done nothing? and although he hath erred, he hath done it but after me. I no longer accuse him then, we are two good friends; and I have always been so concerned for him, that he never yet was employed in any thing, but that I did it to his hand; his works were my only thoughts, and when I was a studying, I thought of what he was to write. Rest assured then, I beseech you, that all that I before seemed to upbraid him with, was, only to persuade him, to spare his ridiculous comparisons of our fathers, for that is not the way to arrive to what he aspires, to be an incomparable Author, seeing that 'tis a sign, his Bias is strong to thieving, to filch for rags, and to have no better flowers of eloquence, than some even as's, so that's, or such like. How now, is not the thunder in the middle region of the air, far enough from his reach? nor the torrents of Thrace rapid enough, to hinder his diverting them into this Kingdom by force, to marry them to his comparisons? I cannot find the drift of this filcher, unless it be that this Phlegmatic, endeavours to make of his aquatique fancies torrents, for fear they should become corrupt, or that he would warm his cold conceits with the fire of lightning and thunder; but since, in spite of what I can say to him, he'll not be able to overcome the Tyrannical malignity of his Planet, and since this thievish inclination hath so great an Empire over him, let him glean at least on the good Autors: for what booty doth he pretend to find in so miserable a one as I am, he'll load himself with trifles; nevertheless he consumes whole nights and days in stripping me from head to foot: and this is so true that I will show you in all his Letters the beginnings and end of Mine, I am SIR, Your servant. 25. Against a great man. AT last I have seen thee (mighty man): My eyes have performed great journeys upon you; and that day that you corporally rolled to me, I had the leisure to run through your hemisphere; or, to speak more truly, to discover some parts and Cantons of it: But my eyes being not the universal ones of the world, permit me to give your picture to Posterity, who will one day be glad to know how you were fashioned. They must know then, in the first place, that nature who placed you a head upon your breast, would give you no neck purposely thereby to take it from the malignity of your Horoscope; That your soul, is so big that it would very well serve one a little slender for a body; that you have that which in men they call Face, so much below your shoulders, and those that are called shoulders, so high above your face, that you resemble, a St. Dennis, carrying his head in his hands: yet I tell but half of what I see, for if I carry my eyes a little lower to your gorbelly, I imagine I see in Timbo the faithful in Abraham's bosom, Saint Ursula that Carries the 11 Thousand virgins in her apron, or the Trojan Nag, stuff with forty thousand men: but I am deceived, you are something that is bigger. I have more reason to believe that you are a wen in the entrails of Nature, and twin to the earth: why, you never open your mouth, but you put us in mind of the fable of Phaeton, where the globe of the earth speaks; the globe of the earth I say, and if the earth be an animal, you being as round and as big as she, I'll maintain that you are her Male, and that she safely was delivered of America, which you made her big withal: well! what think you, Is the Picture like for the first touch? By the description of your sphere of flesh, all whose members are so round that each of them make a Circle, and by the universal roundness of your thick Mass, have I not toldour Nepheus, that you were not a Chouse, since you go roundly to work? Could I better convince of falsehood those that threats you with Poverty, then by making it appear to them that you'll roll continually. And in fine, was it possible more intelligibly to demonstrate that you are a Miracle, since the good case you are in makes your spectator take you for a lump of Veal that struts about upon its lardons. I believe you'll object that a bowl, a Globe, nor a piece of flesh, are no writers, and that your fair Sydon hath made you Triumph upon the theatres of Venice: but, between you and I, you know where the business lies, every body in Italy knows that this tragedy is Aesopes' Crow; that you knew it by heart before you invented it, for 'tis taken from Guarini's Aminte et Pastor fide from Cavalier Marin and a hundred others: one may call it the Piece of Pieces, and you not only a Bowl, a Globe, and a lump of flesh; but likewise a looking glass that takes all that is set before it, but that you represent the Language but ill. Confess then, and I'll not speak on't, but i'll excuse you, and tell the world that your Queen of Carthage must needs be a body composed of all natures, being of Africa, whence comes all the Monsters. I'll add besides that that piece took so well with all the Nobles of that republic that they like the actors played with it: some Block head perhaps by reason of the barrenness of wit in it, will conclude, that you thought of nothing when you made it: But all the learned know that to avoid obscurity you have placed the good things in it very thin, to make them the more clear; and what if they had proved that from the nettle to the fire tree, that is, from Tasso to Corneille, all the Poets have brought forth your Child, they could infer nothing from it but that an ordinary soul being not big enough to quicken your great Mass from one end to another, you were animated with that of the world, and that is now the cause that you imagine with the brain of all men; but they are far enough from granting that you imagine. They maintain, that 'tis not possible that you can so much as speak; or if you do, 'tis as did heretofore the Sibill's grot, that spoke without knowing it: but although the fumes that come from your Mouth (your bung I would say) are as capable to intoxicate as were those that were exhaled from that grot, I see nothing in it that is Prophetical, that makes me think that you are at most but the seven sleepers den, that snore through your mouth. But good gods! what is't that I see? you seem more swelled now then ordinary. Is it anger then that doth it? Already your legs and your head is so united by their extension to the Circumference of your Globe, that you are now but a bundle: you fancy perhaps that I jest; in truth you guess right, and the miracle is not great that a bowl should hit the Mark. I can besides assure you that if a basting could be sent in writing, you would read my letter with your shoulders; and do not wonder at my proceeding: for your vast Extent makes me so really believe you, the earth; that I would willingly plant some timber upon you, to see how it could bear? Do you think then, (because a man can fully beat you in 24 hours, and that he cannot in a day Chine but one of your Omoplates) I will trust to the Hangman for your death. No, no, I myself will be your Parque; and there had already been an end of you, if I were well delivered from the spleen; to cure which, the Physicians have ordered me four or five take of your Impertinencies. But as soon as I am become bankrupt of pleasure, and that I am weary of laughing, rest assured, that I will make you no longer count yourself amongst those things that live. Adieu, 'tis done. I would have ended my Letter as I use to do, but you would not for all that have believed, that I was your thrice humble, obedient, and affectionate; therefore, great bursten-gut. Servant to the Bedstraw. 24. Against Scarron. SIR, YOu demand of me my judgement of this Fox, to whom those grapes seem too green, that he cannot reach. I am of opinion, that as one arrives to the knowledge of a cause by its effects, so to know the strength of this man's wit, or his weaknesses, we need only cast an eye on his productions. But I am out, to say productions, for he never could do otherwise then destroy; witness the god of the Roman Poets, whom at this time he makes rave. I'll confess to you then, concerning that, in which you demand my opinion, that I never saw a ridiculous thing more serious, nor a serious more ridiculous, then his. The people approve of him, by that you may conclude. 'Tis not, but that I esteem his judgement; however, in having chose to write a mock-style; (for to write as he doth, is to mock the world) his companions may, if they please to heighten his glory, say, That he treads in a path, wherein none hath gone before him, & that he hath had no guide. I grant it. But let them lay their hands upon their consciences, say true, is it not easier to make Virgiis Aeneids like Scarron, then to make Scarrots Aeneids like Virgil? For my part, when I see him to profane Apollo's holy art, methinks I hear an angry frog croak, at the foot of Parnassus. You'll say perhaps, that I use this Author something ill, to reduce him to the Infects; but since you oblige me to draw his picture, to do it, I cannot proceed otherwise, (having never seen him) then to follow that Idea, which I have received of him from all his friends: There is not one but confesses, that he hath left off being man, without dying, and is nothing else but form. But by what shall we know him? he goes contrary to the common opinion, and he is arrived to this point of bestiality, to banish points of wit and fancy from compositions; when reading, he unfortunately lights upon one: to see the horror he is surprised with, one would think, that his eyes are lighted upon a Basilisk, or that he hath trodden upon an Asp. If the earth had never known other points, than the pricks of Thistles, Nature hath so formed him, that he would not have disliked them; for between you and I, when he seems to be sensible, that a point pricks him, I cannot but believe, that he doth it to persuade us, that he is not insensible: But whether he be so or no, I'd let him alone, if he did not erect Trophies to stupidity, & support them by his example. How? this good Gentleman would have one write nothing, but what one hath made, as if we now spoke French, only because heretofore they spoke Latin; or were not reasonable till we are moulded. We are then much obliged to Nature, for not making him the first man; for without doubt he would never have spoke, if he had heard braying first. 'Tis true, to make his conceits understood, he makes use of a kind of Idiotism, that makes the world wonder, how the twenty four Letters of the Alphabet can meet in so many fashions, and say nothing. After this, you'll ask me, what judgement I make of this man, that saying nothing, speaks continually? Alas, Sir, none at all, unless it be, that his disease must needs be well rooted in him, that 'tis not yet cured, although he hath fluxed at the mouth above fifteen years. But concerning his infirmity, 'tis believed as a miracle of this holy man, that he had no wit till he was brainsick; that had she not troubled the oeconomy of his temperature, he was cut out for a great fool; and that nothing can blot out his name which he hath plastered on the front of memory, since Mercury, and Larchet could not do it. Those that jeer him, add, that he lives by dying, because that the Neapolitan drogme, which hath cost him dear, and raised him to preferment in the number of Authors, he sells every day to the Stationers. But let them say what they will, he'll never die with hunger; for, provided his chair be not defective, I am very confident, he'll rub out well enough till death; if he had as well secured his Poems against the fury of oblivion, they would not be in danger as they are, to be inhumed in blue paper; nor is there any likelihood, that that paltry-style, and those tales of Robin Hocd, will eternize Scarron so many days, as the history of Aeneas hath done Virgil: Methinks he'd do a great deal better, to get an Order from the Court, commanding all fishwives to speak the same Gibberish, lest introducing new ●rebus's instead of the old ones, before four months be at an end, one be doubtful in what language he hath write. But alas, in this earthly habitation, who can promise himself eternity in men's good opinions, when it depends on the vicissitude of there proverbs: I'll assure you, the thoughts of it hath made me often judge, that he had need make use of some points and sharpnesses of wit; to prick forward the horses that draw the chariot of his renown, otherwise she is not likely (if she goes as slow as he doth) to go far: Why? the Greeks were less time in besieging Troy, than he hath been about his. To see him without arms and legs; (if his tongue were quiet) one would take him for a sprout, planted in the porch of Death's Temple. He doth well to speak, otherwise one could not tell, whether he were alive or no; and I am much mistaken, if every one did not say, (after having so long heard him howl under Larchet) that he is a good Violon. Do not imagine, Sir, that I give him this thrust, to fence with the equivocation of Violon or others, I can assure you, if ever the Parque should have a fancy to dance a Saraband, she'd take in each hand a couple of Scarron's, instead of Castagnetes; or at least wise she would hold their tongues between her fingers and make use of them as they of do the Lazeres snappers; faith, since we are gone thus far, we had as good finish his picture. I fancy then (for we can but fancy those beasts that are not showed for money) that if his conceits are moulded in his head he must needs have a very flat one, that his eyes are of the biggest size, if nature hath made them of the same length that he hath made the craze in his head. They add to his description that the Parque above 10 years since wrung his neck, but could not strangle him; and some days since, one of his friends assured me that having considered his bend arms petrified upon his haunches, he took his Body for a Gibber where the devil had hung a Soul; and persuaded himself that it might very well be that heaven animating this cadaverous and rotten Insect, to punish him for the sins he was to commit, would before hand throw his soul to the dunghill: well Sir, you may please to exhort him from me, not to be incensed at these fancies, by which I endeavour to divert his thoughts from the cruel pains that torment him; I do it not to augment his afflictions, but 'tis not easy to gain his belief to all pressing troubles: Besides (having taken a draft of his ill built face,) Is it not manifest to every one that since the Physicians have been so long employed in the cure of his Carcase, he must needs be very hollow; and who knows, but that God punishes him for the hatred he bears to those that have noble thoughts and conceptions; since we see his disease is become incurable, by having differred too long the putting himself into the hands of one that is learned. I am persuaded that this is also the reason that this enraged Cerberus throws his venom upon every body: for I was told that one showing him a Sonnet, which he told him (being ill informed) was mine, he cast such an Eye upon him, as obliged him to put it up again without reading it. But these Caprices do not seem strange to me: for how could he look otherwise then asquint upon this composition, that looks no otherwise on the heavens? he that persecuted with three scourges, remains only upon the earth to be a continual object to men of God's vengeance; he, whose calumny and rage hath dared to throw his foam upon the purple of a Prince of the Church, and endeavours to cast the shame upon the face of a Heros, who happily under the auspexes of Lewis governs the first kingdom of Christendom. In fine, all that is noble August, great and sacred, doth so incense this monster, that like a Turky-Cook in his anger as well as in his deformity, he cannot endure a Red Hat though France under it secure from her Enemies enjoys a glorious & happy quiet. You may now easily judge that his scorn concerns me as nothing, and that 'twould have been a kind of a Miracle, if my Sonnet that passeth for smooth and full of salt, had relished with a Person so peppered: but I perceive I am a little too saucy to entertain you with so abject a subject; To conclude, I advise you to rest satisfied without that pleasant Comedy that you would entertain your se'fe withal in showing him my Letter, or else learn first Aesop's Language, that you may construe the French to him. This is a part of what I had to send to you, the other consists in adding the, I am, for fear of bringing it ill in: for he is so much an enemy to good thoughts that if this Letter should one day fall into his hands, he'd publish every where, that I had ill concluded, if he should find that unawares I had not put at the Bottom I am, SIR, Your servant. 27. Another Letter. Master Ican, I Much wonder that on the Pulpit of truth you erect a Mountebanks Theatre; that instead of preaching the Gospel to your Parishioners, you fill their Ears with a hundred ridiculous stories; that you have the impudence to recite things that Jack pudding under his vizor would blush to bring forth; that profaning the dignity of your office, you describe the most licentious and debauched pleasures under colour of reproving them, with so particular Circumstances, that you put us in mind (O abominable) of the sacrifices that were heretofore made to the God Priapus, whose Priest was the Pimp. Certainly Master Ican you ought to exercise your Office with less scandal, if you were no other ways obliged to it, then that it raised you from the dunghill on which you was borne, to the state Eclesiastique, for if you have not the power to forbear your Boffon humour, dissembleat least; and when your duty obliges you to preach the Gospel, to make us believe it, do you seem to do so? Permit us to deceive ourselves, and blind the eyes of our Reason, that we may not see your Impertinences; and since in spite of the bug bears, you are resolved to deliver these holy Mysteries like a farce or pappet play, do not ring the bells to call your people to the sermon. Come down from the Chair of truth, and get up upon a stall at the Corner of a street, make use of a Biscayin drum, set a Capering Monkey upon your shoulders, and to end the momery, in all points, slip your hand into your shirt and you'll find Godenot in his knapsack; Then no body will be scandalised that you give pastime to the Clowns; you may like a Mountebank tell the virtues of your Mitridate, utter your pomander bracelets, and balls for the itch and galled Arses; you may likewise make provision of Ointment for a burne; for the witches of the Country, swore to me that they read in the schedule you gave (you know to whom) that the term expires at Christmas: you may if you will give no belief to the Possessed, 'tis seen enough by the contortions that disturb you and your corporal torments, that you have the devil in you: and 'tis to little purpose that you think to free yourself from the torments of hell, by a strong imagination and haunting debauched places. But we care not, provided you lime none but old, or barren ones, because the coming of Antichrist startles us, and you know the prophecy but you laugh master Ican, you that believe in the Apocalypse as in the Mythology, & say that hell is a foolish story to fright men withal, as they use to fright Children by threatening to make them eat a piece of the Moon. Confess, confess that you are the Incomparable! for, expound a little, how can you be impious and Bigot at the same time, and wove with the thread of your life, a mixed stuff of Superstition & Atheism? Ah! master John my friend, you'll die dancing to the Saints-bel; & indeed when we consider the joint pieces that compose the symmetry of your members we are so satisfied that we need not consult an Oracle to be assured; and were your hair more clean and upright than your Conscience, your forehead cut into Lanes (after the Model of the fields of Beausse) where the sun marks your flats by the shadow of your furrows as exactly as he shows the day-hours upon a sundiall; your eyes under shelter of your bushy eyebrows, that look like two precipices on the brink of a wood, are so much sunk, that if you live but a month longer you'll look upon us with your Occiput, to see them so red as they are: one is persuaded that one sees two bloody Comets, and I find some resemblance, a little above in your Eyebrows is discovered, fixed stars (that some call otherwise) your face is shaded by a nose whose infection is the cause that you stink, in all men's opinions: and my shoemaker assured me the other day that he took your cheeks for a piece of black Spanish leather, nay I have suffered my tongue to say that the smallest hairs of your Mustachoces, charitably furnishes your Church with a holy water-brush: this I think is somewhat near in Hieroglyphic the Image that Constistutes your Horoscope. I would proceed, but expecting visiters I feared lest I should omit telling you at the bottom of my Letter, that which is not ordinarily set there, that I am not, nor ever will be, Your Servant, Monsieur Ican. 28. Against a Pedant. SIR, I Wonder, that such a log as you, (who by your habit seems to be become but a great Charcoal) should not yet blush, and become red, with the fire that burns you within. Think at least, when your bad Angel makes you rebel against me, that my arm is not far from my head, and that till now, your own weakness, and my generosity, hath secured you; although you are a very contemptible thing, yet I'll free myself of you, if you become troublesome. Give me not occasion then to remember, that you are in the world; and if you will live above a day, call to mind often, that I have forbid you to make me the object of your slanders; my name fills a period but ill, the thickness of your square waste would close it a great deal better. You act Caesar, when from your Pedagogist-Tribunall, you see your little Monarchy tremble under your wooden Sceptre. But take heed, that a Tyrant raises not up a Brutus; for although you are the space of four hours upon the head of Emperors, your Domination is not so strongly established, but that the sound of a Bell destroys it twice a day. 'Tis said, you boast, that you expose in all places your conscience and your salvation. I believe this of your piety. But to hazard your life for it, I know you want courage, and that you would not stake it against the Monarchy of the world. You consult and plot my ruin, but they are bits that you cut out for others. You would gladly, from the shore in safety, behold a ship wrack at Sea; and I the whilst am condemned to the Pistol, by a Puritanical pedant; a Pedant in sacris, who ought for an example, if the image of a Pistol had taken place in his thoughts, to be exorcised. Barbarous Schoolmaster! what cause have I given you, to wish me this ill? You run over all the crimes perhaps, which you are guilty of, and then you think of accusing me of that impiety, which your own memory taxes you withal. But know, that I know a thing which you know not, and that thing is god, and that one of the strongest arguments (after those of faith) that hath convinced me of his true existence, is, the consideration, that were it not for a summary and sovereign goodness, that reigns in the Universe, thus wicked and weak as you are, you could not have lived so long unpunished. Besides, I have learned, that some little works, though much above yours, hath caused in your timorous courage, this passion that you thunder against me: But in truth, Sir, I am ready to quarrel with my own imagination, that she hath made my satire bite harder than yours, although yours be the fruit, that the best wits of the ancients have sweat for. You ought to be offended at Nature, and not me, that cannot help it, for could I imagine, that to have wit was to injure you? You know besides, that I was not in the belly of that Mare that conceived you, to dispose to humanity those organs, and the complexion that concurred to the making you a Horse. I pretend not however, that these truths that I preach to you, should reflect upon the body of the University, (that glorious mother of Sciences) of which, if you are any member, it is the shameful one. There is nothing in you, that is not very deformed, your very soul is black, it being in mourning for the death of your conscience, and your habit, as its giblets, keeps the same colour. I confess 'tis true, that a miserable Hypocondriack, as you are, cannot obscure the merit of the learned men of your profession; and however a ridiculous vainglory persuades you, that you are the ablest Regent of the University, I protest to you, (my good friend) that if you are the greatest man in the Muse's Academy, you are beholden for it only, to the greatness of your members, and that you are the greatest personage of your College, by the same right, that St. Christopher is the greatest Saint in our Lady's Church; 'tis not but that, if fortune and justice were agreed, you would very well deserve to be the chief of four hundred Asses, that are taught at your College; yea, certainly you deserve it, and I know, that the Master of the high function, whom whipping better becomes than you, nor none to whom it more justly belongs; and of that great number, I know those that would give ten pound to flay you; and if you'll believe me, take them at their words, for ten pounds is more, than the skin of a horned beast can be worth. From all these, and from all the other things that I writ to you t'other day, you may conclude, (little Doctor) that the Destinies command you by a Letter, that you content yourself to shipwreck the wits of the youths of Paris, against the seats of your School; and not think to domineer and play the Regent over him, that doth acknowledge the Empire neither of Monet nor The saurus. In the mean time, you gore me with sharp horns, and resuscitating in your memory the thoughts of your cruelty, you compose of it a Romance, of which you make me the Heros: Those that will excuse you, lay the fault on Nature, that brought you forth in a Country, where bestiality is the first patrimony; and of a race, that the seven deadly sins hath composed the history of. After this, in troth I am to blame to take it ill, that you endeavour to attribute to me all your crimes, since you are of age to give away your wealth; and that sometimes you seem so transported with joy, in reckoning up the debauched persons of this age, that you forgot your own self. 'Tis not necessary, that you ask, who told me of this stupid ignorance, that you think secret, you that glory in publishing it, and bellow it out so loud in your School, that 'tis heard from the Orient to the Occident. I advise you however, Master Picar, henceforward to change the subject of your Haranges, for I will no longer see you, hear you, nor write to you; and the reason is this, That God, who possibly is upon terms of pardoning my sins, would not forgive me, if I should have to do with a beast. 29. Against Lent. SIR, YOu may canonize Lent as long as you please. For my part 'tis a holiday, that my devotion will never celebrate; I look upon it as a great gash, in the body of the year, through which Death introduces himself; or as a great Cannibal, that lives upon man's flesh, whilst we eat nothing but roots: The cruel Tyrant is so afraid of failing to destroy us, that having learned, we are to perish by fire, the very first day of his reign he puts the world into ashes, and afterwards by a deluge, to exterminate the embracements remainders, he brings a tide of fish into our very Cities. The Turk, that told the Grand Signior, that upon a certain day of the year, all the Frenchmen became frantic; and that a certain powder being applied to their forehead, made them come to themselves again, was not of my opinion; for I'll maintain, that they are never wiser than upon that day: And if they object their Mascarades, I answer, That they disguise themselves, that Lent who looks after them may not find them; and indeed, he never carches? 'em, but the next morning a bed, when they have plucked off their visors. The Saints, who (being inspired by God) are wiser than we, disguise themselves likewise; but they unmask not till Easter day, when the enemy is gone. 'Tis not, that this Barbarian hath pity on us, that makes him depart: No, no; but finding us so altered, that he himself doth not know us, he retires, thinking he hath mistaken us for some others. You see already, that our arms lose their flesh, our cheeks fall, our chins grow sharp, our eyes hollow, the paunch-belly that you know, begins to see his knees; human Nature looks hideously: To be brief, the very Saints in our Churches would fright us, if they did not hide themselves. And after this doubt whether Martyrs have escaped the wrack, the furnace, and boiling oil, when in six weeks we see so many persons in good health, after they have appeased the fury of six and forty executioners, their presence alone is terrible: And I fancy Shrovetide, (that great day of Metamorphosis) a rich elder brother, that bursts his belly, whilst the poor younger ones, die hunger-starved. 'Tis not, but that the law of Fasts is a well invented stratagem, to exterminate all the souls out of a Republic, that are like to come to the fire. But I think these fish-days are to blame, to kill so many Calves in a season, in which they permit them not to be eaten; and to permit March to blow such bad winds from the quarter of Rome, that they make us eat but half what we would do. Why, Sir, there is not one Christian, whose belly is not a Sea of frogs, or a Kitchen-garden. I think upon the carcase of a man, that dies in Lent; one may see sprout out beet roots, skirrets, turnips, and carrots. But to hear our Preachers, you would think, that at this time we ought not to be flesh. What, is it not enough, that this lean Tyrant ruins our bodies, would he corrupt our souls too? he hath so perverted our precepts, that we may now communicate to women our temptations to the flesh, without offending them, or god almighty. Are not these crimes, for which it ought to be expelled out of well-governed Kingdoms? But 'tis not only in our days, that he rules with so much insolence, for our Saviour died in the first year of his reign. The whole machine of the world was like to have vanished, and the Sun, (who was not used to these long fasts) failed the same day, and lost his complexion, & would never have recovered his weakness, if they had not presently made an end of Lent. O thrice and four times happy is he, that dies on a Shrove-tuesday, he is almost the only man that can boast, that he lived a year without Lent. Yea, Sir, if I were assured to abjure the heresy every holy-Saturday, I would turn Huguenot every Ash-wednesday. Our reformed fathers may well pray to God, that the Pope may never happen to be my prisoner of war; for, although I am a Catholic good enough, yet I would not set him at liberty, till he had for his ransom restored all the flesh-days, he hath taken from us: I would oblige him likewise, to degrade March from the number of the 12 months of the year, as being the Ganelon, that betrays us to a great deal of hardship. 'Tis to no purpose to say, that he is not altogether against us, since either with his head, or his heels, he always dips in the dripping-pan; that he only frees himself from the Megrim, by the Cramp; and, in fine, that Lent is his Gibbet, where every year he finds himself hung, either by the neck, or by the heels: He is the principal cause of the mischiefs, that our enemies do us, because 'tis he that lodges them, whilst they persecute us; and these persecutions are not imaginary, if the earth did not stop the mouths of the dead, I know what they would say well enough. And I think, that Easter was purposely so placed at the end of Lent, because they that Lent had killed, could not but want a resurrection. Wonder not then, that so great a part of the world exterminates him; for after having killed so many, he well deserves to be broke. In the mean while, Sir, you make Panegyrics to Lent, you praise him, that takes away my life, and I suffer without repining. I must needs be, SIR, Your Servant, D. B. 30. For Madam***** to Mr. Cock. Mr. Cock, YOur Hen desired me to send you this Poulet from her; all the others that you received from her, lived only in paper, but this, brought up with more care, sucks, laughs, and breathes: For the Hen (contrary to the ordinary custom of her species) hath been nine months a hatching it. One would take this Chick for a little Man without a beard, and those that have cast his horoscope, have foretold, that he shall be one day a great Lord at Rome, because that the first time he broke silence, was with the word Papa. I have strictly charged him, to tax you with your ingratitude, and to conjure you to return to the nest of your loving Hen; and although he doth it but in his tongue, be not harder hearted then St. Peter, to whom heretofore the same language was sufficient, to bring him to repentance. Leave then, O unconstant Cock, to debauch your neighbour's wives; return to the roof of her, that so long since gave you her heart; of her, whose embraces did so often prevent your desires; and of her, in fine, who hath protested to me, (as ingrateful as you are) to oppress you with her dearest favours, if you show but the least shadow of repentance: But nothing moves you. Why, impudent Cock as you are, do you not see, that your beard blushes for shame, that instead of humbling yourself at her fear, and drailing your wings on the ground, you stand upon your points, and crow at her. You think perhaps, that this is not spoke like a Hen. But I understand likewise, that those tunes that you send forth to her praise, are not Cock a doodle's. In truth, these are fine testimonies of gratitude, to acknowledge the liberality of a person, that sends you her first brood. Without doubt, when you were the other day to see her, you did not half consider her. Look upon her now nearer hand, this little picture of yourself, he doth much resemble you, and indeed, she made it by you; and I vow to you, it is the fairestfruit of good Christian, that hath been gathered with her this Autumn. But hold, I am mistaken, 'tis not a fruit, 'tis a Poulet; make this Poulet then as welcome, as she hath made yours. If it were only for curiosities sake, you might show it all over Paris, as the first Cock that ever was born without a shell; otherwise I'll disavow all, and to excuse the cackling of your Hen, I'll publish in all places that all she did was only to make. Mr. Cock. A little Cock-a-l'asne. 31. To a Count of mean Birth. SIR, I Know not by what good fortune 'twas, that at the same time that you read my examinations, I was showed yours; where 'tis affirmed by irreprochable witnesses, that a Count within this three days, a Count at pleasure, a ridiculous Count; in fine so little a Count, that he is none at all, would in spite of the wholesome counsels of his peaceable humour, create himself valiant, that he who had so trained himself up to the Battle of Cuffs that imagining that a duel tends at most but to the destruction of half an Ell of Cloth, he believed to have found in his wife's smock matter enough for a thousand Combats; that he that had never been in the field but to Graze, and in fine that he was Baptised only for the same reason that they give names to Bells. Well then? young Knight of the enchanted arms, put forward, grind your teeth, by't your Thumbs, stamp with your foot, swear a God damn me, and endeavour to become courageous, I advise you however to hazard nothing, till you are certain that your Courage is come to you: feel yourself well first, that according as your heart tells you, you may expose your breast to the sword, or your back to the Cudgel; but I see well enough you submit yourself to the last, for it very rarely kills: besides 'tis not likely that the Queen of Pearls who did you the honour to advance your Feif to a Count, and who speaks so honourably of you, hath made you a Mischievous Count I am troubled that you understand French no better, you would think by this Compliment, that there were a Cudgel a cutting; and (faith) you would guess right, for I protest to you that if a basting could be conveyed in writing you would read my Letter with your shoulders, and that you would see there a man, armed with a Cudgel, visibly sally out of the place where I use to put, SIR, Your servant. D. B. 32. To a Reader of Romances. To me Sir, SPeak, Roman, tell me pray, Are Polexander, and Alcidiane Cities that Gastion is going to besiege? In troth till now, I believed myself at Paris living in Marests du Temple, and I thought you had been a volunteer in our troops in Flanders once drawn into a faction by a Corporal; but since you assure me that I am not myself, nor you him that I took you for, I am in Christianity bound to believe it. In fine, Sir, you command whole armies, O! Let us render thanks to fortune, who is now reconciled to virtue: certainly, I no longer wonder that looking for your name every Saturday in the Gazetes, I could not meet with it? you are at the head of an Army in a Country that Renauldot is not acquainted with But tell me, dear Sir, do you think in your conscience you behave yourself like a true Frenchman thus to abandon your Country, and by the absence of your Person weaken our Sovereign's Party? 'twere much more for your honour I think to join in the sea of Italy your fleet to ours, than to aspire to the Conquest of a Country that God hath not yet created. You ask of me the way: faith, I know it not; nevertheless I think you must leave that which you have taken: for to arrive at the Canaries 'tis not the nearest way to pass by the fools little houses. I'll gothen, & make some vows and prayers for your prosperous voyage, and carry a candle to St. Mathurin and beseech him that I may one day see you well, to the end that you may certainly know, that all that I write you in this Letter, is only to testity how much I am, SIR, Your affectionate servant. 33. Against Physicians. SIR, SInce I am condemned (but 'tis only by the Physician) from which I can more easily appeal then from a Criminal decree, you'll allow me (as they do Malefactors who from the ladder preach to the people) I that am in the hands of the hangman, to give some admonition and warning to Youth: The fever and the Apothecary holds a punniard to my Breast, with so much rigour, that I hope they will not suffer my discourse to be troublesome to you. This graduate notwithstanding tells me, that 'twill be nothing and at the same time protests to every body else, that I cannot escape without a Miracle. Their presages however, although fatal, do not at all startle me; for I know well enough that the cunning of their trade obliges them to condemn all sick persons to death, to the end that if any one escapes his recovery may be imputed to their powerful remedies; and if he dies, that every one may cry him up for an Able man, and say, that he knew well enough what would become of him. But admire a little, the Impudence of this hangman, the more I find the ill increase that his Physic is cause of, and the more I complain of some new distemper, the more he rejoices; and says nothing, but, All the better. When I tell him that I am fallen into a swoonding Lethargy, that held me almost an hour, he answers 'Tis a good sign; When he sees me in the Claws of a bloody flux, that tears me in pieces, 'tis well, says he, this is as good for you as letting Blood: When I grow sad to feel an excess of cold to take hold of all my extreme parts, he laughs, and says he knew it well enough, that his Physic would quench that extreme fire; nay sometimes, when being almost dead, I have lost my speech, I hear him chide my friends that weep to see me in this sad condition, Fools that you are (says he) do you not see that 'tis his fever that is at extremity, and is leaving of him? Thus this traitor rocks me, and in the meene time I am so well, that I am almost dead. I am not ignorant how much I was to blame to call my Enemies to my help; but, could I imagine that those whose knowledge makes profession to cure, would employ it altogether to kill me; for alas, you may believe, that if this were not the first time that I fell into the ditch, I should not now be in a condition to bemoan myself. I for my part advise those weak wrestlers, that they may be revenged of those that have thrown them, to turn Doctors, for I'll assure them, they'll send those to the ground, that had laid them there. In truth I think, that to dream in ones sleep, that one meets a Physician, is sufficient to put one into a fever; to see their lean steeds (covered with a long hearse-cloth) feebly support their feeble Master; would one not think 'twere a Beer, that the Parque is got astride upon? and may we not take his riding-rod for death's standard, since she brings along his Lieutenant? This is the reason without doubt, that Policy commanded them to mount Mules, and not Mares, lest the race of Doctors becoming more numerous, there would have been at last more executioners than patients. Oh! what pleasure could I take, in anatomising their Mules, those poor Mules, that never felt spur, neither within, nor upon their flesh, because boots and spurs are superfluities, that the delicate wisdom of the Faculty cannot digest. These Gentlemen govern themselves with so much scruple, that they make these poor beasts (because they are their domestics) observe fasts more rigorous, than those of the Ninivites, and abundance of very long ones, the custom of which are forgotten. By these diets they leave them only their bare skin upon their bones, and we that pay them well, are not better used, for these frozen Doctors take more Jelly out of us, than they put in. In fine, all their discourses are so cold, that I find but one difference between them, and the people of the North; that is, those of Norway have always mules upon their heels, and these have always their heels upon their mules. They are so great enemies to heat, that they have no sooner found out in a patient any lukewarmness, but, as if that body were a Vessuvius, they are presently a bleeding, and glistering, drowning this poor stomach in Sena, Cassia, and Barleywater, and weakening life, to debilitate (say they) this heat, that takes nourishment as long as it meets with matter to work upon; insomuch, that if the special hand of God makes them bound again towards the world, they presently impure it to the virtues of the refrigerative, with which they have benumbed this incendiary. They steal from us the heat and energy, that is in the blood. Thus having bled too much, our souls flying from us, serve as a shuttlecock, to their Surgeons Palletes. Well, Sir, what think you then, after this, are we not much to blame, to complain, that for a weeks sickness, they ask ten pound; is it not a cheap cure, where the life escapes? But confront a little, I beseech you, the resemblance that is between the Doctor's proceedings, and the process of a criminal. The Physicians having considered the Urine, questions the patient upon the stool, and condemns him; the Chirurgeon binds him, and the Apothecary discharges his office behind: Those very persons that think they stand in need of them, do not much esteem them; no sooner are they come into the chamber, but one lolls out ones tongue at the Physician, one turns one's arse to the Apothecary, and holds up one's fist at the Chirurgeon. 'Tis true, they revenge themselves with a witness, it always costs the jester his life. I have observed, that all that is fatal in Hell, is comprehended in the number three; there is three Lakes, three Dogs, three Judges, three Parques, three Gerrons, three Hecates, three Gorgon's, three Furies. The scourges God uses to punish mankind, are likewise three, the Sword, Pestilence, and Famine; the World, the Flesh, and the Devil; Hail, Thunder, and Lightning; the Blooding, the Physic, and the Glister. In fine, three sorts of people are sent into the world, purposely to martyrise man in this life; the Lawyer torments the purse, the Physician the Body, and the Divine the soul. But these Masters of the Mules brag on't too; for mine coming one day into my chamber, I only said, Quot, to him; this impudent homicide presently apprehending, that I asked him the number of his murders, laying hold of his great beard, answered me, ●ot. I am not ashamed on't, says he; and to show you that we teach how to kill as well as Fencers, we all our life-time exercise ourselves upon the Tierce and the Quart. That which I concluded upon the brazen impudence of this person, was, That if the rest of the profession confessed less, they notwithstanding did as much: That this was contented only with killing, and that his companions to murder added treachery. That if one would write the Physician's travels, one could not count them, by the Epitaphs only of one Parish: And, in fine, the fever assaults us, the Physician kills us, and the Priest sings. But 'twere nothing, for Madam Faculty to send our bodies to the grave, if she did not attempt our souls too. The Chirurgeon would run mad, rather than not kill with his lint, all those that are shipwrackt in his hands, and send them to sleep with their fathers. Let us conclude then, Sir, that sometimes they send death and his fyth, buried in a grain of Mandragon, otherwhile liquified in a Serringe, sometimes upon the point of a Launcet, that sometimes with a Julip, they make us die in October; and, in fine, they usually cloth their poison in so fine terms, that not long since I thought, that mine had obtained for me of the King an Abbey, in commendum, when he told me, that he was a going to give me a Benefice for the belly. Oh! how glad I should have been, if I could have found some way equivocally to have beaten him, as the country-wench did, who being asked by a Mountebank, whether she had any Poulxe, (which in French signifies also Lice) she answered him with boxes on the ears, and good scratches, that he was a fool, and that in all her life she never had neither Lice nor Fleas. But their crimes are too great, to be punished only by equivocation, let us summon them to appear before a Justice, in the name of the dead. Amongst all mankind, they'll not find a Lawyer, thre's not a Judge, that cannot convince some of them of having killed his father; and amongst all those they have practised, that they have laid in the Churchyard, there is not a head, that doth not grind his teeth at them; should they devour them, there were no fear, that the tears shed for their loss, would enlarge the Rivers. None weeps at the death of such people, but those that lament, that they lived so long. They are so beloved, that every thing that concerns them is so, even their very death, as if they were other Messias', for they die for the good of Mankind. But, good gods! is not this my evil Angel again? ah! 'tis the same, I know him by his gown. Vade retro Satanas. Champagne, bring me the holy-water pot. Graduated devil! I renounce thee, O impudent Satan! do you not come to give me another purge? Have mercy Lord, 'tis a Huguenot devil, he doth not care for holy-water. Oh! if I had but strength enough to break his pate. But alas, that which he hath made me take, is so well turned to nourishment, that by taking a great many consumed broths, I have quite consumed myself. Come quickly then to my help, or you'll lose, SIR, Your most faithful Servant, D. C. D. B 34. Against a coward, Bragadocio. SIR, THe Prophet lies, cowards do not die at your age; besides, your life is not considerable enough, to be of those, that the heavens takes care to mark the duration of. Those of your scantling, may expect to die without a Comet, as well as a great many more that are like you, which Nature asleep brings forth every day, without taking notice of. I have been told in many places, that you brag, that I had a design to kill you. Alas my friend, do you think me so foolish, as to undertake an impossibility? Ha! pray tell me, to kill a man suddenly, that hath neither brain nor heart, in what place must I strike him? I'll ne'er be seen, if your way of living impenetrable by injuries, makes not the world believe; that you have undertaken to try, how long a man without a heart, can naturally subsist. These reflections were considerable enough, to oblige me to make you feel the wait of a cudgel. But the long continuance of your Ancestors, whose antiquity you proclaim, will hold my hand. I find indeed some likelihood, that it may be so, since a famous Genealogist made it clearly appear to me, that all your titles of nobility were lost in the Deluge; and that he proved to me, that you are as evidently a Gentleman, as the country-fellow did to King Francis the first, when he told him, That Noah had three sons in the Ark, and that he was not certain, from which he was descended. But however, I should have guessed, that you were of a good House, for no body can deny, but yours is as new a one, as any there is in the Kingdom. If you'll believe me then, take a Coat of Arms, let the Heralds be offended if they will; you shall give these: Vous porterez de gueules a deux fells, chargees de cloux sans numbered; a la vilenie en caeur, & un Baston Brisc sur le chef. But as they give not Arms to a Peasant, that one would make noble, till he hath rendered himself worthy of it, by performing some warlike act, I stay for you, where this lackey will conduct you, that according to the prowess of chivalry, that you shall make appear, I may clap a pair of spurs on you. You need not fear to be the sacrifice; for if fate waits for you any where, 'tis rather in the stable, than in the bed of honour, or upon the breach of a wall. And for my part, I that understand a little in Physiognomy, I engage you my word, that you are not destined to die in the field, unless it be by a surfiet of grass. Consult upon it, however, all the powers of your soul, that I may arm myself quickly with a sword, or that which they call in French a Baston. End of the Satirical Letters. 35. A Dream. SIR, THat vision of Quevedo which yesterday we read together, left so many deep Impressions in me of the pleasant things it represented, that the last night I dreamt I was in hell, but that hell seemed to me very differing from ours; the variety made me believe, that they were the Elysium fields; and indeed I had not gone far but I saw the lake Avernus which I knew by the Greeks and the Romans descriptions of it, I saw Acheron, and the flood Lethe, the vigilant Cerberus, the Gorgon's, the Furies, and the Parques, Ixion upon his wheel, Tityus devoured by a vulture, and many other things that are amply described in the Mythology. Having gone a little further, I met divers persons clothed in the Greek and the Roman fashions, the one speaking Greek, the others Latin; and I perceived others employed in leading them to several apartments: they all seemed very sociable, which made me put myself into their Company. I remember I accosted one; and, after many other discourses, having told him that I was a stranger, he answered me, that I then was come at a good time: for that day, the dead that have complained that they are ill associated, are all to change their lodgings; and that, if I were curious, I might have the pleasure of seeing it: he afterwards very courteously proffered me his hand; and I gave him mine. We go, continued he, into the Hall, where order is taken for the parting those that have a mind to leave me another, and lodging them with others, we shall have the Convenience to see at ease, without tiring ourselves, how every one will behave himself to make his cause good. We walked together then to the place, where at last we arrived. My guide gave me a place just by him, and by good fortune it happened to be so near the Judge's Chair, that we could hear plainly each party's difference. As they came out of their ancient habitations, I observed (if I am not deceived) not as one would think they should have done, the kings with the Kings, etc. but many times the king, with the shepherds, Philosophers with peasants, very beautiful persons with very deformed ones, and old with young ones. But to begin, I perceived Pythagoras was very weary of his company which were a Company of Comedians, who by their continual babble disturbed his high speculations. The Judge that governed there, told him, that esteeming him a man of a great memory, since after fifteen hundred years, he could remember that he had been at the siege of Troy, he was coupled with those persons that were not unprovided of it. Ho! if that be all the reason (said he) why you lodge me with these tumblers, you may as well put me indifferently with any of the other dead; for there's hardly a deceased person here (if you'll believe their Epitaphe) that is not of happy Memory: since than they are not the only persons, with which I sympathize for God's sake deliver me from the troublesome prating of these Kings and Queens, whose Reign lasteth but two or three hours, These reasons being heard, the Judge sent him to another place I know, but where I do not remember. Ariesto, Pliny, and Elian, & many other naturalists, having had to do with Beasts were coupled with the Moors, and the painter Zeuxis was likewise lodged with them, his picture of grapes which the birds came to peck having convinced him of presumption. Dioscorides desired no better than to be set among the Lorrains, saying that he should agree with them very well, because he perfectly knew the nature of simples. But they considered better and sent him to Pelias his daufters, charging him to teach them to know the virtue of herbs better than they did when they would have made their father young again. Raimond Lulus that swore he had made Aurum Potabile, was placed with certain rich Drunkards that had done the like. Lucan that Nero put to death, jealous of his Poem of the Pharsalian wars, associated himself with some little Children that died of the worms. The Pimps apartment fell to Virgil's share for having debauched Dido, who (had it not been for him) had been a very discreet Lady. Ovid and Actaeon, criminals by chance, were lodged together, as persons that their Eyes had rendered miserable; they chose a retireing place very obscure, fearing (said they) to see too much. I saw Orpheus lodged with the Ballad singers of Pontneuf, because they could allure beasts. Aesop and Apulaeus, kept house together, by reason of the conformity of their Miracles, for Aesop of an Ass made a Man, making him speak, and Apulaens of a man made an ass making him bray. Romulus' ranked himself with the faulconer's, because he trained up birds to fly, not a Partridge, but the Roman Empire. They talked of putting Caesar amongst the Gamesters, I asked the reason, and was answered, Because that with one cast that he threw upon the Rubicon, he won the Empire of the world; nevertheless they thought it more convenient to crush his pride, by putting him among the slaves that were heretofore thought to have spells to run with; you may, said the master of the Ceremonies to him, make trial once again of your Veni, Vidi, Vici. They lodged Brutus with those that used to ride the Bears because he was not afraid of spirits. Cassius whose ill sight had caused his death, among the great bellied women whosesight is dangerous. Caligula would needs have had a more Magnificent apartement then Dacius, because his adventures were incomparably more glorious: for, said he, I Caligula, I made my horse an Emperor, and Darins was made an Emperor by his horse. Nero appeared next, whom they joined with a company of fiddlers, that he might perfect himself: they would have coupled him with Timon man's enemy, but fearing lest that nature one day might sympathize with their wishes, and make but one General head of all mankind, there might be a dispute betwixt them who should cut it off. I saw king Numa present a petition that he might be permitted to dwell with a certain famous Hydromancer who formerly had done Miracles by water, as being as capable as tother, having made the fountain Aegerie speak, and rendered it so clear-sighted in state-affairs, that whereas an other Ingeneere would have conducted that, he suffered himself to be guided by it. Nabuchadnezzar was put into a Mountebanks hands, who promised himself great gains, by showing him, because that such a beast had not yet been seen. Patroclus took it ill, to see himself coupled with the curers of incurable diseases; but he was satisfied with reason, when they told him, that it was, because he, like them, had cozened death. Jason was much out of countenance, to find himself in a great Hall, among a company of Spanish Courtiers, because he understood not their language; for he could not imagine what they meant, when he was told, that all the adventures of those young Knights, tended (as well as his) but to the golden Fleece. But consider a little, what 'tis to apply one's self to the reading of things fabulous, in an age, whose weaknesses adds faith to all one knows. I have read nothing in the fables of the Heathens, that did not confusedly appear again in my fancy. Me-thoughts I saw Jupiter ranked with the fools, for that Momus had told, that he had been trepan'd: Jupiter being offended, asked, By trepaning, what the fool meant? That, answered Memus, when Vulcan's grace clove your brain, to make you bring forth Minerva. The old Saturn that understood no cunning, received without murmuring the company of a troop of Mowers, because of the conformity of the Sceptre. Phoebus' was made to follow some experienced players at Battledore, with order not to leave them, till he had learned, not to take his friend's head any more for a mark. Me-thoughts I heard Susiphus commanded, to accost certain stone-hewers, that were there, to rid himself of his Rock to them; I know not if he disposed of it, because curiosity made me turn my eye upon Thetis, who disputed for the choice of an associate; they put her by a certain Hypocondriack, who thinking himself Brick, would not drink, for fear of spoiling himself; for as if she formerly had feared the same thing, she durst not dip her son Achilles heel into the Sea, wholly to immortalize him. Hecate thrust into the crowd, to get to Garagantua's mother; For, said she, if I have three faces, this hath one that is so big, that 'tis worth them all. 'Twas moved, that Io might be lodged with Poppea, Nero's wife, for certain reasons which I cannot call to mind: This Princess was content, provided, t'other would have a care how she kicked, for she was much afraid of 'em. Dedalus, the great artisan, made no resistance, although they gave him for companions, Sergeants, Clarks, and Attorneys, and other men of the horn, because he was told, that quills were the instruments of their mischief, as well as of his; and that if they had not sometimes played the Harpyers, they would not have been brought to the beggar's Fiddle. Dalila, Samson's Mistress, was put amongst the baldpates; for fear if she had been with any others, she should have served them as she did Samson. Porcia was placed with those, that had the green sickness, the Judges of hell suspecting her to have it, since she swallowed coals. Jocaste and Semiramis kept house together, because they had both of them been mothers and wives to their sons, and twice made big by the same child. I saw every body very busy to accompany Artemise; some would join her again to her husband, because of their so much extolled love; others would cartie her to the Hospital of great bellied women: But she quieted all their differences, lodging herself on her own accord, with some laundresses that she found there; upon condition, though, said she to them, that if I help you in your Bucks, the Ashes shall be at my disposal. Theseus desired to lodge with the Weavers, intending to teach them how to guide the thread. Perseus, Andromede's Brave, found himself well, with all the institutors of Orders indifferently, because they, like him, have all of them defended women. Nero, for whose place there was so much debate, chose at last of himself Erostrato's apartment, that famous madman, that fired Diana's Temple; For I am, said the Emperor, strutting up and down, one that loves as well as he, to warm myself at a good great fire. Juvenal, Persius, Horace, Martial, and almost all the Epigrammatists and Satyrs, were sent to the Manage, with the Academic riders, because the one and the other have had the reputation of Prickers. They put likewise with these Poets, a great many Pin-makers, Point-makers, Cutlers, and others, whose work is good for nothing, unless it be sharp. The Duke of Clarence, that voluntarily drowned himself in a barrel of Malmsie, went looking about for Diagenes, in hopes to get a room in his Tub; but he being not to be found, and they perceiving great Socrates, that was not yet coupled, Here's your business, say they to him; for both you, and this Philosopher, died by drinking, Socrates made a low bow to his Judges, and pointing, showed them old Heraclitus, that stayed for a companion; order was given to the Romances Heros, to take him along with them, He is a person (said the Harbinger that matched them) from whom you'll have a great deal of satisfaction; he hath a heart of flesh, you cannot tell him your adventures, (as amongst you 'tis a thing inevitable) without drawing tears from him; for he is no less tender of weeping, than yourselves. Eurydice took Achilles by the hand; Let's along, let's go, said she, for they cannot match us better, since both of us have our souls in our heels. I saw Curtius, that famous Roman, that cast himself into the gulf to save Rome, placed with a certain brutish fellow, that lost his life, in the protection of a debauched woman; I much wondered to see them couple persons so unlike; but I was told, that both of them died for the Republic. Afterwards they made Icarus and Prometheus companions, the one and the other having been addicted to steal. Echo was lodged with our modern Authors, because, like her, they say but what others have said before 'em. The Triumvirate of Rome, with that of Hell, that is, Anthony, Augustus, and Lepidus, with Radamanth, Aeaques, and Minos; because it was said, that those as well as these, had been Judges of Death. They were about to put Flamel, who pretended to have found the Stone, with those that were dead of that disease; but he was much offended, and cried, That his was the Philosopher's Stone, and that there was an infinite difference, between the virtues of these two sorts of Stones; for they, continued he, are not tormented with theirs, till after it is made; but we chose are most troubled in the making it; besides, we are never cut of ours. These reasons heard, they sent him to find out Joshua, because that some of them have bragged, that they had, as well as he, fixed the Sun. Abundance of other Chemists followed this, with great respect, and received as Oracles the follies that he dispersed, in which, these people thought, that the secret of the great work lay hid. They were divided, one half was put with Colliers, as men of the Furnace, and the other with those, that have given blows to Princes. Hecube was placed with Cerberus, to augment the number of infernal Porters, she barked against the Officers for this affront; but at last they satisfied her, telling her, that she was a three-headed monster, as well as tother, since she had one as she was a Bitch, as a Woman two, and that one and two made three. I remember, they put some by themselves, amongst which was Midas, because he is the only man in the world, that hath complained of being too rich. Photion likewise was apart by himself, he being only found, that had ever given money to die; and Pygmalion also was alone, because never none but he married a dumb woman. After this disposal of things, by which every one had their proper place, the representations of my Dream grew less distinct, and I could only perceive a general figure of things; as for example. I saw a whole body of Thiefs, join company with the Fowlers now adays, because they shoot flying; our Writers of Romances with Aesculapius, because, like him, in a moment, they do miraculous cures; the Hangmen with the Physicians, because they are paid for killing; a great company of Fencers desired to be lodged with these of the faculty, because the art of Fencing teaches them, as well as it doth the Physicians, the knowledge of the Quart and the Tierce: But they were put among the Shoemakers, in regard the perfection of the Art consists, in the well making of a Boot. Among the confused noise of a number of malcontents, I distinguished the voice of Bouteville, who thundered, and was monstrously enraged, that every one refused his company, but 'twas to no purpose; none durst come near him, for fear of being engaged in quarrels. This man carried solitude with him, and I think, he would have been fain to have made himself a Hermit, if he had not at last applied himself to the great Grammarians, that invented Duels. A Mountebank that sold his medecines, increased the crowd, by the number of fools that were got about him; many advised with him, and amongst the rest I saw Orpheus his wife, that desired of him a Cataplasm, for the itch of the eyes. There was Priam likewise, that came for an Unguent for a bourn; but the Saltinbanca had not enough, for the whole City of this poor Prince was all burnt. I saw there abundance of Lawyers condemned to the fire, that they might see clear, into some businesses too obscure. As for the wisemen, they were put with the Architects, as persons, that in all things ought to use Rule and Compass. 'Twas impossible to get the Drugster's from the Furies, so afraid were they to want Torches. I much wondered to meet Tiberius, who expecting to be placed, in the mean time lay-upon some stones to rest himself. I asked him if 'twould not be more for his ease to lie upon a bed: I should fear, said he, that the heat of the feathers would do me more hurt then the stones; In the mean while Agrippina, Nero's Mother, conjured him to revenge her quarrel with Sencca who published that she had had four Children since her Marriage, she appeared furious, and almost out of her senses, but Nero quieted her by these words; Madam, one must believe but half what a slanderer saith. The Parques, were contented to be with poor Country wenches that feed their husbands with their distaffs, when they were told that those Country girls as well as they had spun men's lives. There came thither certain Thrashers, and because they wanted flails, or scourges, they gave them Attila to make use of instead of others. The impudent persons associated themselves with the keepers of Lions, that they might learn of them, never to change colour, I should have seen a great deal more, if my Clock striking Eleven had not waked me and put me in mind that at all hours of the night, and day, I am, and will ever be until my last sleep, SIR, Your most affectionate servant. 36. Against the Frondeurs, or Slingers. THe Reader must take notice that this Letter was sent during the siege of Paris, and during the People's greatest animosities against the Cardinal, one must not then wonder to find things not altogether so fit for the present Estate of Affairs, which have much changed since that time. To Mr. D. L. M. L. V. L. F. SIR, 'TIs true I am a Mazarin, 'tis neither fear nor hopes that makes me so ingenuously confess it, 'tis the pleasure that I take in a truth, when I pronounce it. I love to make it known if not as much as I can, at leastwise as much as I dare; and I have such an Antipathy to his adversaries, that to give them justly the lie, I could with a good heart come from t'other world. Nature took so little care to make me a good Courtiers, that she gave me but one tongue, for my heart, and for my fortune; if I had been desirous of the Applauses of Paris, or pretended to the Reputation of being Eloquent, I should have writ in favour of the slingers, because there is nothing more Easy to persuade the people, then that which is easy to believe: But as there is nothing too, that more show a vulgar soul, then to be of the same opinion with the vulgar, I resist as much as possible the rapidity of the torrent, that I may not be carried away with the stream: and, to begin, I declare to you once more that I am a Mazarin. I am not however so unreasonable, as not to declare to you the cause why I betook myself to your party: know then, that 'twas because I found it the Justest, and because 'tis true that nothing can acquit us of the obedience we owe to our lawful Sovereign: for however the slingers stone us for it, I pretend to return it them so smartly, that I'll drive them from all the Forts that their calumny hath reared against his Eminence. The first thing that in vain the Poets of Pont neuf let fly (against the reputation of this great Person) was the alleging that he was an Italian: To that I answer (not to these Heroes of blotted. Paper, but to reasonable Persons that deserve to be disabused) that an honest man is neither a French man, a Dutch man, nor a Spaniard; he is a Cosmopolite a Citizen, of the world, and his Country is every where: but I grant that the Cardinal is a stranger; are we not the more obliged to him that he will leave his domestic Gods, to defend ours? Besides if he were a natural Sicilian (as they believe) he is not for all that a vassal of the King of Spain; for History is witness that our Lilies have more right to the sovereignty of that state, than the Castles of Castille, But they are very ill in formed of his Cradle; for although the family of the Mazarins was originally Sicilians, the Cardinal was born in Rome, and since he is Citizen of a neuter town, he might consequently engage himself for the interest of that nation he pleased to make choice of: 'tis well known that the people of Rome, and the nobles and Cardinals do thus take upon them the particular protection of a king or Prince, or a Republic: there are some that hold for France, others for Spain, and others for other Sovereigns, and his Eminence embracing the justness of our Cause, hath followed the example of the Almighty, who always espouses the interest of the just. Certainly the happy successes of our Armies, hath well enough showed both the Excellency of his choice, and the justness of our cause, and our kingdom swelling under his Administration hath witnessed that for his sake heaven hath undertaken our quarrel; and indeed almost all those that desired his departure, have since been found Pensioners to the Enemies of this Crown; and the glorious actions of our great Cardinal, which multiply his rays, hath plainly showed that his lustre dazzling and hurting their eyes, they have imitated the woolus in the Fable, that promised the sheep not to meddle with them, if they would send away the dog from their sheepfold. Well, these State-reformers (who cover their black designs with the Cloak of public Benefit) have nothing else to say but that the Cardinal is an Italian, yea. But what is't they complain of? he advances none but French, and those whose greatness cannot have any Eclipse; he hath not made any Creature, and we see at Court thirty Italians, Persons of quality of great families, some drawn hither by their nearness of blood to him, others by his renown, that have been here idle this ten years, because he thought them not fit for the King's service. In the mean time what wisdom soever he makes use of, in the Conduct of the Government, it doth not please our Politic Citizens; they cry down his Administration. But 'tis no new thing for the unfortunate to impute to the good fortune of others, the ill offices of their own. In that envious humour that gnaws them, they'll complain that they have nothing to complain of: because his Eminence hath raised no Creatures they call him ungrateful; if he had advanced any, they would have accused him of ambition. Because he hath carried our frontiers into Italy, he is a traitor to his own country; and if he had not led our armies that way, there had then been a private understanding against us between him and his Countrymen: what way soever the glory of this kingdom is advanceed, his Eminence will always be to blame, unless his Enemies be let become great enough not to envy him any longer. Let the fire of Calumny use his violence against him as long as he pleases his Reputation is a rock in the midst of the billows, that the waves washes instead of shaking; and that very strength that makes it able to support the burden of an Empire, will not leave him when it concerns him to bear injuries. The second Battery that they rear against him, assaults his birth: What, are we obliged to instruct those that are voluntarily ignorant? must we teach them that only pretend not to know that the family of the Mazarins, whence came the Cardinal's father, is not only one of the Most noble families, but likewise of the best allied in Italy; and that the Arms of his illustrious Ancestors are of the most ancient that Rome hath preserved the name of. The ignorance of fools would have a great privilege, if we were obliged to hear patiently their contradictions, to all the truths that they are unacquainted withal. The people of the Market, and of the place Maubert, will not agree to these truths, that are so manifest; but these people would not be of the rout, if they could be truly informed of things. Besides, 'tis the custom, where they find eminent virtues, above their reach, to revenge themselves by slandering it. Although Cardinal Richelieu was well known, to come from one of the ancientest Houses in Poiton, that he was of kin to the Lords of greatest quality in France, and that our very Princes took part with him, in the blood of their Ancestors; his Nobility was notwithstanding questioned. Such tales as these are never wanting, in seditious persons mouths, who seek to draw a pretence from every thing, to deny their obedience to those Rulers, that heaven hath placed over them. They prosecute him further, and accuse him of protecting the Cardinal's Barbarins. Would it have been for the honour of France, to have denied those sacred persons, that implored our aid, the Nephews of a Pope too, that all the time he reigned, was a true friend to France? Other Nations would have imputed this denial, to a want of power to protect them; and this testimony of weakness, would it not have been of great prejudice to his most Christian Majesty, whose Empire is as much maintained by reputation, as by force? When our calumniators felt themselves too much pressed in this place, they presently shift arguments, and cry out, that he hath oppressed the people with great extortions. I know not, if this rabble hold intelligence with foreign Kingdoms, that inform them more truly of the management of the Treasury, than the Council, the Espargne, and the Chamber of Accounts, are informed. But I know well, that the Parliament of Paris, that accused him of Transportation, or ill management of so much monies, after having made a strict examination, and spent much time in it, the Negotiations of Cantarini, did not impute to him so much, as the appropriation of a Cardecu; and I believe, his enemies would not have forgot to charge him with Peculate, if he could have been convinced, rather than of false crimes, with which they have endeavoured to soil his reputation, for want of true ones. Besides, is any impost laid upon the Kingdom now, that was not established in the other reign? Methinks, they are not exacted with so much rigour now, as was used then, although the Stock advanced by the Treaters, was consumed in Cardinal Richelieu's life-time, and that the same Wars must be continued against as many Enemies, as before. Do they believe then, that five or six Armies are paid with the leaves of an Oak? that with it, new Levies are made, that Intelligence from all places can be maintained, that we can make whole Provinces and Kingdoms revolt from our enemies; and, in fine, that an only Minister of State can govern, to the hazard of all the Potentates of the world, without prodigious sums of money, which are only capable to buy our peace. Yea, Mr. Draper fancies, that 'tis with the government of a Monarchy, as with his Chamber-maid's wages, or his son Peter's board. They add to their ridiculous stories, that oftentimes things have succeeded well, to the contrary of what he counselled. I believe it, for he is Master of his own reason, and not of the Caprices of fortune. How often do we see good success authorize ill conduct? And I should much more wonder, that, through the obscurity of things to come, a man could with the eyes of his understanding, dispose of hazardous events, and by his diligence, guide the steps of Fate. When these praters have been repulsed in this assault, they charge him with a Palace that he hath built at Rome: But let them know, that the least Cardinal in the Court hath his Palace: Being a French Cardinal, the pomp of a Palace in Rome, is for the glory of France, as his meanness would be, in the opinion of the Italians, a shame to our Nation. Some of our Kings (I speak of the most August) have furnished Cardinals with very considerable sums, to build their Palaces, upon condition, they would place our Lilies over the Portall. Yet in spite of all these special reasons, a poor little Mercer, making up his ribbons, will not allow the Cardinal, to build a house at his own charges. The scum murmurs besides, that if France should forsake him, he hath no retiring place. What, blind Sirs, because he hath purchased enemies every where, by protecting you, is he therefore an hateful and an abominable person? and do you judge him unworthy of pardon? His fault indeed is unpardonable, of having so faithfully served ungrateful persons; and God, that gave him as an example of those that exposed themselves for the people, hath permitted, that having comported himself as gallantly as Photion, Pericles, and Socrates, that he should meet with as wicked Citizens, as they did, that formerly condemned those great personages. He is blamed likewise, that he refused peace; and my Laundress swore to me, that Spain offered it on very honourable and advantageous terms, for this Kingdom. I exhort those that are wise, not to judge by outward appearances, and to remember, that the time when our plenipotentiaries refused to conclude it, was, when the most violent fits of the Naples revolt, first began, and when fortune seemed to offer us the restitution of a Kingdom, that belongs to us. 'Twould have been contrary to the rules of human prudence; to neglect that conquest, that we were almost sure of. Besides, the Catholic King always insisting, that we should abandon the interests of the King of Portugal, 'twas not lawful for us to sign to that Peace, (unless we would have been thought the most perfidious of Nations) and not comprehend him in the Treaty, since he attempted only upon our word and promise, to set the Crown upon his Family's head. But this is the last and greatest shock, by which they pretend to obscure the brightness of his glory. He is (say they) author of the Siege of Paris. I answer them in the first place, That it was his duty to give such advice, the Queen Regent having had notice of many plots, that were contriving against the person of the King: Nevertheless, the very common report is satisfied, that he was not the first, that gave his voice for this enterprise; and chose, he hath been ever blamed, to have been too much inclined to clemency. Besides, why must it needs be, that he alone gave order, for the carrying away of our young Prince. Those that understand any thing, know, that he is not alone in the Council; and that he doth but give his opinion like others. He is far then from being the only author of this design; he would not suffer things to be put in execution, that without doubt would have hastened the reduction of this City, because they appeared to his nature a little too cruel. And if the Parisians ask me, what those things were; I'll make them understand, that with a great deal of justice, he might have punished with death the prisoners of war, as traitors and rebels to their King. He could besides, in one night, if he had pleased, by the intelligence that he had from within, have caused the Suburbs, that were but poorly guarded, to have been plundered and burnt, have driven those that fled into the City to starve it, or put them all to the sword, after the example of Henry the fourth, that made half the women of Paris widows in one day; and by taking this blood, have abated the fever of the Inhabitants. But instead of these acts of hostility, he forbids the beating down of those Mills, that were about the City, although he knew, that by their means, they continually received great quantity of corn. And although he had notice of all the marches of their Soldiers, he often made the royal Troops steer another course, then that of our Convoys, that they might not be obliged to famish, and beat us at the same time. He hath besieged Paris then, but in what manner? like one that was afraid to take it, like a good father to his children: He was content to show them the rods, and threatened them a great while, that they might have leisure to repent. And to speak freely, their disease being an effect of their debauches, it was the duty of a good Physician, to make them observe a diet. In truth, if I might dispense with a little sport, in a matter of this importance, I would say, that our King seeing so many Kings on Twelfth Eve, come by night into his Capitol, he went out against them, and would adventure to conquer fifty thousand Monarches. These, I think, are all the aspersions, by which this rascality have endeavoured, to render odious the person of his Eminence, without ever having had any one lawful cause to complain of him: Nevertheless they forbear not to cry down his most eminent virtues, to blame his administration, and prefer to him his Predecessor; but by what reason, I know not, if it be not perhaps, that Cardinal Mazarin sends none out of the world privately, and without cause; because he hath not a Court, fat with the blood of people; because he takes not off the heads of Counts, Mareschalls, and of Dukes and Peers of France; because he keeps not the Prince from the knowledge of businesses, because he is not a vindicative man; infine, because they see him so mild, that the very attempters against him foresee their pardon: this is the reason why these factious Persons, do not esteem him a great Politician. O! stupid vulgar! a Benign Minister displeases thee, take heed the Misfortune of the Birds in the fable befalls you not, who having demanded a king was not content to be governed by the Dove that Jupiter gave them, that ruled mildly; but so importuned him for an another, that he sent them an Eagle that devoured them all. The Cardinal deceased was a great man, as well as his successor, but having not the boldness to decide betwixt the merit of these two eminent persons, I'll be contented to put the world in mind that Cardidall Richelieu had the honour to be Chosen by king Lewis the Thirteenth the most just Monarcle of Europe, to be his Minister, and Cardinal Mazarin, by the Cardinal Richelieu himself, the greatest head piece of that age. They are to blame likewise to allege that we are under a government, where Arms, Letters, and Piety are contemned. I'll maintain to the contrary, that they never were so well esteemed of. For Arms; witness Monsieur Gastion, and de Ranthau, who by their Credit and counsel, were made Marshals of France; without speaking of Monsieur the Prince, who by the Queen's rewards, possessest he alone, more wealth than some Kings of Europe: for Piety, father Vincent shall answer; to whom she hath committed the charge of judging of the consciences, abilities, and life, of those that pretend to benefices: for Letters, witness the wise choice she hath made of one of the most judicious Philosophers of our time, for to instruct Monsieur the king's brother, witness the learned Naude whom he honours with his Esteem, admitting him to his table, and by presents! In brief witness that great and Magnificent Bibliotheque, built for the public, to which by his means and care, all the learned of Europe contribute. What can we add more, Sirs? nothing, after this; unless, that the Glory of this kingdom cannot rise higher, since she is in the hands of his Eminence. Do you not think it necessary at last that the People should leave off vexing the patience of their Prince, by the wrong they do to his Favourites; that they should accept with thankfulness the pardon that is offered them, which they are not worthy of? no Sir, they deserve it not, for is't a fault pardonable to rebel against ones King, the lively image of God? to take arms against him that he hath given us to exercise over our Lives and fortunes, the functions of his Almighty power? ist not to accuse his divine majesty of Error, to control the will of the Master he hath chosen us? I know, it may be objected, that the particulars of a Republic are not out of the way of salvation. But 'tis very true, nevertheless, that as God is but one, governing all the universe; and that as the government of the heavenly kingdom is Monarchical, that on earth ought to be so likewise. The holy Scriptures witness that God never appointed so much as one popular State, and some Rabbins assure us, that the sin of the Angels was, to have attempted to put themselves under a Commonwealth. Do we not find that long before his coming, he gave David to be king over the people of Israel, and that since our Redemption, he hath sent from heaven the holy Vial, with which he would have our kings sacred. By a supernatural Character to distinguish them from all those that were to be born to obey them. The Church militant, that is the Image of the Triumphant, is governed Monarchically by the Popes, and we see that the very particular houses must be governed by a kind of king too, that is, the father of the family; 'Tis as the first spring in society, that moves our actions to order, and 'tis the secret instinct that compels the whole world to submit themselves to kings. In vain the people endeavour to extinguish that light in their souls, that guide them to submission, it is at last carried in spite of them by this first mover, and they are enforced to render their due obedience. But nevertheless those of Paris have had the boldness to lift up their hands against the Lord's Anointed, alleging for a pretence, that 'tis not the King they aim at but his Favourite; as if, as a king is the image of God, a Favourite was not the image of the Prince. But 'tis not enough to say an image, he is his son. When he engenders according to the flesh, he begets a Prince? when he engenders according to his dignity, he begets a Favourite. As man, a successor, as a king, a Creature; and if it be true that to Create is more noble then to Generate, because Creation is Miraculous, we ought to adore a favourite, as he is the Miracle of a king: were it only then against his Eminence that they take up arms, do they think they are Christians when they attempt against the life of a Prince of the Church; no Sir, they are Apostates, they offend the holy Ghost, that presides at the promotion of all Cardinals, and you need not doubt but that he I punish their sacrilege with as much rigour, as he punished the murder of the Cardinal of Lorraine, whose death (however just) bled twenty years, through the throats of four hundred thousand French: But what can they promise themselves by a rebellion that can never succeed? and if it should so prosper as to overthrow Monarchy, what advantage would they have by it? he that now possesses only a Cloak would not then be master of it. They would be authors of a Lamentable desolation, which their nephew's sons would never see the end of: besides 'twere very strange, if they should think or persuade themselves that Christendom could see the destruction of the Eldest son of the Church without interessing herself for him? All the monarchs of Christendom are they not concerned for their conservation of that king that can settle them again in their Thrones, if their rebellious subjects should one day throw them down? And suppose that this revolution could be brought about without a greater destruction then that which Holland yet bleeds for; I'll maintain that a popular Government is the worst scourge that God afflicts a State withal, when he would punish it. Is it not contrary to the order of Nature, that a Boatman or a Porter, should have power to condemn the general of an Army, and that the life of the greatest person should be at the disposal of the meanest fool, that in all haste will put him to death? But God be thanked we are far enough off from such a Confusion. Those that name the Cardinal, without adding his Title, my Lord, already hide themselves; and every one begins to believe, that'tis a hard matter to speak like a rascal, and not to be one. And if the whole Kingdom were in league against him, I should be confident of his victory; for 'tis the fate of the Julies', to overcome the Gauls. I hope then, that we shall suddenly see a general reconcilement in the minds of men, & a perfect harmony, amongst the divers members of the body of this State. Monsieur de Beaufort being animated but with French blood, 'tis not credible, but that blood will stay him, from dying his sword in the breast of his mother; & like little Rivers, after having strayed some time, reunite themselves to the Ocean, whence they first came, I do not doubt, but that this illustruous Blood, will incorporate again suddenly with his springhead, that is, the King; for the other Commanders, I cannot have so ill a thought of them, as to believe, that they'll refuse to follow the steps of so heroic an example; methinks, I see them already bow with respect, before the Image of the Prince. Reflecting what favour, the chief of their Families have received from precedent Kings, they are too just to be against it. That the fortune of another Family should likewise, in his turn, have a favourable aspect. Monsieur the Coadjutor knows well, that the Duke of Rets his grandfather, was Favourite to Henry the third. Monsieur de Brissac may have read, that his grandfather was raised to great offices and dignities, by Henry the fourth. Monsieur de Luynes hath seen his father have the greatest power, over the heart and fortune of King Lewis the thirteenth. And Monsieur de la Houdancourt yet remembers the time perhaps, that he was in favour under the same favourite of the King deceased. They have no cause then to complain, that my Lord, the Cardinal, should now sway; 'tis no more than their Ancestors or themselves at another time have done. But if all these considerations should prove too weak, to bring them to their duties, they are noble; and the apprehension of appearing ungrateful, for the benefits they have received from his Majesty, will make them desire to forget these discontents, rather than to appear unthankful. And the example of a thousand traitors, that have returned injuries to the Court for her favours, will have no power over them, that know too well, that ingratitude is the vice of a rascal, of which the Nobles are uncapable. It only belongs to the Poets of the Pontneuf, such as Scarron, to vomit foam upon the purple of Kings and Cardinals, and to lay out the liberalities, that he continually receives from the Court in paper, that he fills with Libels against him. After having bragged, that he had received a thousand Francs of his Pension from the Queen, he had the impudence to say, that if a thousand more were not sent him, 'twas not in his power to forbear another Satire, that strove with him to come to light; and conjured his friends to give speedy notice of it, because he could not possibly keep it any longer. Well, was ever such an example of impudent ingratitude fees in any age? Ah! Sir, this was without doubt the reason, that God (who foresaw the number and the greatness of his sins) to punish him sufficiently, was fain to be twenty years beforehand with him, and by a continual death chastise those crimes, that were not yet committed, but those that he was to commit. Permit me a little, I beseech you, to turn my discourse a little to these Rebels. Seditious people! come and see an object worthy of God's judgements, 'tis the monstrous Scarron, that is given you for an example of the punishment, that the ungrateful, the traitors, and the slanderers of their Prince, are to suffer in Hell; consider in him with what scourges Heaven punishes calumny, sedition, and detraction? Come Burlesque writers, and see a complete Hospital, in the body of your Apollo; when you see the King's Evil that devours him, confess, that he is not only the Queen's sick-man, (as he calls himself) but the Kings likewise; he dies every day in some member, and his tongue stays till the last, that his howling may tell you the torments he endures. You see him, what I tell you is no story; since I have been speaking to you, he hath perhaps lost his nose, or his chin. Doth not such a spectacle stir you up to repentance? Admire, stony-hearts, admire the secret judgement of the most High: Harken with an ear of contrition. This speaking Mummy, she complains, that she is not able to bear all the pains that she endures. The very blessed ones, to punish his impieties, and his sacrileges, teach Nature new infirmities, to confound him with. Already by their Ministers, he is oppressed with the disease of St. Roch, of St. Fiacre, of St. Clon, of St. Renne: And that we may, in a word, comprise all the enemies that he hath in heaven, heaven itself hath ordained, that he should be sick of the Saint. Admire then, admire, how great and profound are the secrets of the divine providence. She knew of the ingratitude of the Parisians to their King, that was to break out in 1649. But not desiring so many Victims, she caused to be born forty years before, a man ungrateful enough, alone to expiate all the punishments, that a whole City had deserved. Make your profit then, O people, of this miserable miracle; and if the consideration of the eternal flames are weak motives to make you wise, and to hinder you from casting your Gale upon the scarlet of the Tabernacle; at least, let the fear of becoming Scarrons, terrify you. You'll please to excuse, Sir, this little digression, since you are not ignorant, that Christian charity obliges us, to run and help our brethren, that, without perceiving it, are upon the very brink, ready to fall into a precipice. You have no need of it, you that in these great shocks of State, have still held fast to the body of the Tree. And indeed 'tis one of the most considerable motives, that I am, and will be all my life, SIR, Your very humble, obedient and affectionate servant, De Cyrano Bergerac. 37. Theseus to Hercules. DO you not wonder, my dear Hercules, that I should write to you from t'other world? That being past the flood Lethe I should remember our friendship and that I should preserve the memory of it? where the memory of men are shipwrackt, Ah! I foresee that you do not: you know too well that that correspondence and society whose mutual esteem knit our souls, is not a knot that Death can loosen; and the very inaccessible hell where I am detained, is not far enough to hinder my sighs from reaching to you. I know, that you have been seen to shiver and tremble with anger against this Tyrant of the night, whose rigorous government I endure, and that the great Hercules, after having dis-horned Bulls, torn Lions, strangled Giants, and carried upon his shoulders the Machine of the world, that Atlas could not bear, is not a man to be afraid of the barking of a Dog, that keeps my Prison Gate; 'tis a Monster that hath but three heads, and Hydra that he overcame had seven each of which grew to seven more: Come then, O triumphant Protector of heaven! Come and take the last victory upon your Enemies; come into these dark Dens and take from death the Privilege of Immortality; and at last resolve to satisfy the suspense that the terror of your arm holds nature in: you have spread your name enough over the Mountains of the earth, and the stars of the firmament; think of those that languish in the Centre of the world, oppressed with the weight of the earth for having fought under your banner. Can you imagine, to what a miserable condition the unfortunate Theseus is reduced, now that his complaints makes his misfortune ring again in those climates that the Sun gives light to; he is in the most sad and fatalest quarter of the Elysium fields, seated upon the trunk of a Lyprus; tore with Thunder, uncertain whether he should send you his Request or his Epitaph; his ears affrighted and his Eyes offended with the croaking of Ravens, and the continual cries of a cloud of Ospreys; his head leaning on the black marble of a monument in the midst of a frightful Cymetire, environed with rivers of blood, where deadbodies float, whose ponderous motion is excited by the doleful sound of sighs that the souls breathe out, that pass over her. This, O invincible Hero! is the fatal Employment of those years that I ought to spend more gloriously in your service, but because that no sad Circumstance should be wanting to my grief I am tormented not only by evil itself, but likewise by the Eternal fight of him. I'll tell you, that t'other day (excuse me if I speak in this manner in a place filled with darkness, where blindness reigns every where, and where every object wears a perpetual black) t'other day then, whilst the rigour of the most unfortunate aspects that an accursed Climate can be deadlily looked on: I perceived all affrighted, the horrible habitation of the Parques, who turned their eyes on mine. I was a long time employed in considering these homicide mothers of mankind, who had hung at their distaffs the haughty Arbitrer of people's liberties, and wound as negligently the silk of a glorious Tyrant, as the thread of a simple shepherd. I conjured them by my tears, to spin out the thread of my life more quick, or else to break the woof. And since the fear of death frighted me more, than death itself, I desired them to free me from a hundred thousand torments, by one only. But I read in their countenances, that they had decreed, not to grant my petition so soon. This frightful company made me leave my abode; but alas, I fell into another more horrid, 'twas a vast floating Fen, in which being engaged, I found I was at the mercy of an hundred thousand Vipers, that hath none, and who with their tongues burning with venom, having sucked on my cheeks the painful degorgements of my heart, gave me in the room of it, the air of their hissings to breathe. There I saw those famous offenders, whose crimes have condemned them to extreme torments, bring themselves forth again, by the fire that consumed them, endure in the flames all the insupportable torments of a frost, and under the unmerciful Empire of a violent Eternity, have nothing left them of their being, but the power to suffer. I met Sisyphus at the top of a mountain, bewailing the loss of his stone, that was newly slipped from him. Tityus' continually revive, to satisfy the insatiable hunger of the Vulture, that tore him. Ixion losing at every turn of his wheel. The memory of the former Tantalus, devoured by the very fruit, that he in vain endeavours to devour; & the Danaides employed, in continually pouring into a tub full of holes, that they could not fill. There was there hard by, a very thick bush, under which I discovered, through the fortifications of this vegetative Labyrinth, lean Envy, whose eyes were frightfully fixed on the earth, the hands yellow and dry, the thighs quaking, and without flesh, the stomach sticking to the sides, the breath contagious, the skin tanned by the heat of the Acribilaria, who vomiting, was chewing a piece of a Toad half digested. Afterwards I had the conversation of the Furies, who were employed in such rueful actions, that I leave them to imagination, lest by the relating them, your design of rescuing me should by their horror be changed, with your courage. Behold, these are my misfortunes, O generous Prince, the relation that I have made to you, is not to call you to my succour, for I should slain the honour of great Alcides, if I should think, that there were any need of words, to excite him to produce a virtuous action. And I am confident, that the time that he spends in the reading my Letter, will be all that shall stay him from taking this voyage, from which I may expect my liberty. But in the mean time, I cannot find the way to make an end of it; for how can I, that stand in need of the service of all the world, dare to style myself, O great Hercules, Your Servant, Theseus. 38. Upon an Aenigma, that the Author sent to Monsieur******* SIR, TO acknowledge the Present you made me the other day, of your rare Aenigma, I thought I was obliged to acquit myself, by sending you the like; I say the like in respect of the name Aenigma that it bears; for as to the lofty style and character of yours, I confess mine much beneath it, and that I should be very inconsiderate if I should but dare to follow its flight, only with the eyes of the Fancy. However, if mine may be so happy, as to see herself entertained in the quality of an attendant to yours, her father will be too much honoured: I confess she's impatient to entertain you. If your goodness then will grant her this favour, you need only continue the lecture of this Letter, Aenigma, upon Sleep. I Was born nine hundred years before my sister, and yet she passeth for my elder; I think that her ugliness and deformity, is the cause of this error: there is no body but hates her company and conversation; there comes not a word of good news out of her mouth: And although she hath more Altars on earth, than any of the other deities, she receives no pleasing sacrifices, but the vows of the Despairers. But I that charm all those that I come near, there passes not a day, but I see: that which breathes in the air, the sea, & the earth, fall at my feet. I find my cradle in the Sun's tomb, and in my Coffin, the Sun finds his cradle. The perfectest and most amiable thing that man ever saw, was made the first day of my reign; Nature laid the foundation of my Throne, and makes my head in the highest place of a stately Palace, of which she takes care, when I repose, to keep the door shut. And the workmanship of this Edifice, is elaborated with so much art, that no body ever yet knew the order and the symmetry of its Architecture. In fine, I make my abode in the centre of an unexplicable Labyrinth, where the reason of the wise and the foolish, of the learned and the idiot, wanders together. I have no Host but my father; and although he be a great deal more rational than I am, yet I make him go whither I please, and am his conductor. 'Tis to little purpose, in the mean time, that I cousin him, a few hours doth so clearly disabuse him, that he resolves (although in vain) to trust no more to my falsities; for, in spite of him, I lay in irons the five slaves that serve him; as soon as they are tired, I compel them, whether they will or no, to submit themselves to my capriccios; not but he endeavours to shun my re-encounter, but I watch him in places so black and dark, that he never fails of falling into my snares; he yields presently to the character that my divinity, amases him with, insomuch that he hath no eyes, but what are mine. Not but that I have many other powerful adversaries, the most considerable amongst which, is the sworn enemy to silence, who would long since have driven me out of the confines of his Kingdom, if the greatest part of his subjects, had not, in my favour, revolted against him; and these revolters, that reason makes to rise against their Tyrant, are the best governed, and the only persons that live under a perfect harmony: They protect my innocence, quiets those disturbances and clamours, that conspire my ruin; introduce me by little and little into their Kingdom; and at last help me themselves unawares, to become the Master of it. But I advance my victories a great deal further, I share with the god of day, the extent and the duration of his Empire; and if that half that I possess be not the most glorious, 'tis at lest the most tranquil and quiet. I have this advantage of him besides, that I entrench upon his dominions, when I please, and he cannot entrench upon mine. The Astre that gives light to the Universe, goes not down from our Horizon, till I yoke to my Chariot the one half of mankind. I stir up and maintain trouble among the people, to keep them at rest. They must needs love me, for I use every one of them according to their humour; those that are merrily disposed, I lead to Plays, Balls, Feasts, and other pleasant divertisments; the choleric I lead to the wars, and plant them at the head of an Army, and make them break through thirty squadrons with their swords, gain victories, and take Kings prisoners; for those that are melancholy, I sink them into the darkest horrors of a frightful solitude, I carry them to the top of an hundred terrible and inaccessible Rocks, to make their abyss seem more deep to them. In fine, I give every body an occupation, according to his fancy; I enrich those that are most miserable, and sometimes, in spite to fortune, I take pleasure to precipitate her favourits, to the lowest part of her wheel; I raise likewise, when I please, a rascal to a Throne, as heretofore I prostituted a Roman Empress to the embraces of a Cook. 'Tis I, that for fear the Lovers should brag of their good fortunes, take care to close their eyes, before they get to the bedside. 'Tis by my art likewise, that they fly without feathers, that they go without stirring their feet: And, in fine, 'tis by me only, that they die without losing their life. I spend half the time, to repair the lean bodies, I give colour to the cheeks, and make the Roses and Lilies bud in the face. I am two things together very unlike, the god's Truchman, and the fools Interpreter. When I am seen near hand, they know not who I am, and they do not begin to know me, till they have lost sight of me. The Eagle, that looks fixedly upon the Sun, winks at my presence. I know not, if any amongst my Ancestors have been counted Lions; but in the fields, the Cock crowing makes me fly; and, to speak freely, I myself have much a do, to explicate what I am. Unless you'll fancy, what a boy makes his Top do, when he whips it, I make all the world do so. Well, Sir, this is speaking plain enough; and yet I dare lay a wager, that you have not found it out. But; in troth, I'll not expound it to you, unless you command me; for then I'll ingenuously confess to you, that the word you look after is, Sleep; and I cannot forbear, for I am, and will be all my life-time, SIR, Your very humble Servant. 1. Amorous Letters. To Madam. ******* Madam, BEing a person as beautiful as Alcidiane, 'twas without doubt fit you should have an inaccessible habitation, as had that most worthy Lady; for since none could approach that Roman's without danger, and without the like hazard none can come near yours; I believe that by the magic of your Charms you have removed since my departure the Province where I have had the honour to see you, I mean, Madam, that she is become a floating Island, that the furious wind of my sighs drives backwards and forwards before me, when I endeavour to come near it. My very Letters, full of submissions and respects, for all the Art of the best instructed messengers cannot arrive: 'tis to no purpose that your praises that they publish makes them fly into all parts, they cannot meet with you; and I verily believe, that if by the Capricio of fortune or of fame (that often times take the charge of that which addresses itself to you,) one of them should fall from heaven down your Chimney, ' 'twould be capable to make your Castle vanish. For my part, Madam, after adventures so surprising, I doubt not any longer but your County hath changed climate with the Country that was its antipode; and I am afraid that looking for it in the Map, I shall find in its place, as we find in the extremities of the North, This is a land that the Ice keeps from approaches. Ah! Madam, the Sun whom you resemble, to whom the order of the universe allows no rest, was pleased to stand still in the heavens, to give light to a victory which little concerned him. Stay Madam and be witness to one of the greatest of yours, for I protest (provided you cause not any more to vanish the enchanted Palace, where I every day speak to you in Imagination) that my converse, dumb and discreet, will never offer any thing to your Ears but vows, homages, and adorations: you know well that my Letters contain nothing that can be suspect, why then do you hinder the conversation of a thing that never spoke; if I may have leave to declare my doubts, I believe you deny me the sight of you, that you may not communicate a Miracle above once to a profane person; yet you know that to convert an unbeliever as I am (that's a quality you have formerly taxed me with) requires that I should see it more than once. Give access then to testimonies of veneration that I intent to pay to you. You know that the Gods receive favourably the incense we burn to them here below, and that their glory would be imperfect, if they were not adorad: do not then refuse to be so, for if all their attributes be adorable, since you eminently possess the two principal ones, the Wisdom and the Beauty, you'd make me commit a crime, if you should hinder me from worshipping the divine Character that the Gods have imprinted in your person; I especially that am, and will be all my life, Madam, Your most humble, and passionate servant. 2. Letter. Madam. THe fire that you consume me with, hath so little smoke, that I defy the severest Capuchin, to black his conscience and his humour, with it; that Celestial heat, for which St. Xavier was so often like to burst his doublet, was not more pure than mine, since I love you, as he loved God, without having seen you: 'tis true indeed that the person that named you to me, made so perfect a draft of your Charms, that whilst he was about his Masterpiece, I could not believe that he drew you, but that he brought you forth; 'twas upon his security that I articled to surrender. My Letter is the hostage, use it courteously I pray you, and give it some quarter; for if the laws of war did not oblige you to it, the Prize is not so inconsiderable that the Conqueror need blush to own it. I do not deny but that the powerful darts of your eyes, made me lay down my arms, compelled me to beg my life of you; but in truth I think I have much contributed to your victory, I fought as one that had a mind to be overcome, I turned always the weakest places to your assaults, and whilst I encouraged my reason to the victory, in my soul I vowed its overthrow: I, against myself, I assisted you strongly, and if the repentance of so temerare a design made me weep, I persuade myself that you drew those tears from my heart to make it more combustible, having taken away the water from a house you had a design to fire; and I was confirmed in this opinion, when I considered that the heart was a place contrary to others, that one could not keep without burning it. You do not believe perhaps that I am serious. I am intruth, and I protest to you, if I do not see you quickly, that the Bille and Love, will roast me in such a manner, that I shall leave the grave-wormes the hopes but of a lean Breakfast? what, you laugh at it; No, no, I do not jest, and I foresee by so many sonnets, Madrigals, and Elegies, that you have received from me (that knows not what belongs to Poetry) that Love designs me a voyage to the kingdom of the gods, since he hath taught me the language of the Country: however if some pity moves you to defer my death, send me word that you permit me to come and offer to you my servitude: for if you do not, and that quickly, you'll be accused of having in humanely killed without a cause of all your servants the most passionate, the most humble, and the most obedient servant, De. Bergerac. 3. Letter. Madam, YOu have a kindness for me, Ah? in the very first I ne I am your most passionate obedient servant, for I feel already my soul by excess of joy spread so far from me, that she'll have gone past my lips, before I can have time, so, to end my Letter: nevertheless 'tis now concluded and I can if I please, seal it: for since you have given me assurances of your affection, so many lines is needless against a place that's already taken and were it not that 'tis the Custom, for a Hero to die standing; and a Lover complaining, I had taken leave both of you and the Sun, without acquainting you with it: but I am obliged to employ the last sighs of my life to publish (in bidding you farewell) that I die for love, you know, of whom; you believe it may be, that the dying of Lovers, is only a manner of speaking that they have got, and because of the conformity of the words Passion and suffering, desire and death that they often taken one for tother. But I am very confident that you'll not doubt of the Possibility of mine, when you have considered, the violence and the continuance of my disease; and the less, when after having read this discourse you find at the Extremity, Madam, Your servant. 4. Letter. Madam, I Was so far from losing my heart when I did you homage, with my liberty, that since that time I find it a great deal bigger, I believe he is multiplied, and that being not enough of one for all your wounds, he hath used his endeavours to bring forth others in all my arteries, where I feel him beat, that he may be present in divers places and that he only may become the only object of all your Darts, in the mean time Madam, freedom, that precious treasure, for which Rome heretofore ventured the empire of the world; That dear liberty, you have taken from me; and nothing that passes from my vital spirits to my senses hath made this conquest: your wit only deserved this glory, his vivacity, his sweetness, his extent, and his strength, merited enough to make me deliver it up to so noble fetters: that fair and great Soul, raised into a heaven so far above that which is the reasonable one, and so near to the Intelligible, that she eminently possesses all the fair one, Nay, I'd say too, much of the Almighty Creator that made her, if of all the attributes that are essential to its perfection, there was not wanting that, of Merciful; yea, if we can imagine any defect in a divinity, I accuse you of that: Do you not remember my last visit, when complaining of your cruelty, you promised me at my departure, that I should find you more favourable, if you found me more discreet; and that taking your leave of me, you bid me come again the next day, because you were resolved to make the trial: But Alas! take a day's time to apply remedies to wounds that are in the heart, is it not to suspend your assistance till the languishing party is dead? And that which makes me wonder the more, is, that you mistrusting that this Miracle might come to pass, you fly from home, to shun my fatal re-encontre: Well Madam, well, fly me, hide yourself, from my very remembrance; one ought indeed to fly and hide one's self when one hath committed a Murder: good gods, what do I say! Ah Madam, pardon the fury of one that is desperate, No, no●, Appear that's a law for Mankind, which doth not concern you; for 'twas never heard that Sovereigns ever gave an account of the death of their slaves: yea, I ought to esteem my fortune very great, that I deserved, you should take the pains to ruin me; for since you have been pleased to hate me, that will at least witness to posterity that I was not indifferent to you. Besides the death that you thought you had punished me withal, makes me rejoice; and if you are troubled to apprehend what this joy might be, 'tis the secret satisfaction that I have to have died for you in making you ungrateful. Yea Madam, I am dead, and I find you'll have much ado to conceive, if my death be real, how it can be that I should send you the news of it: nevertheless there's nothing more true: but learn; that man must endure two deaths in this world; one violent, which is love, and the other natural, that reunites us to the insensible substance. And this death that is called Love, is the more cruel, because when we begin to love, we begin to die; 'tis the reciprocal passage of two souls that seeks one another to animate in common that which they love, and of which the one half cannot be parted from the other half, without dying, as 'tis happened to, Madam, Your faithful servant. 5. Letter. Madam, AM I condemned to weep much longer? I beseech you, my dear Mistress, in the name of your good Angel, be so much to a friend me as to let me know your intentions, that I may betimes provide me a place amongst the Quinze vingts; for I perceive, that I am by your courtesy predestinated to die blind: yea blind, (for your ambition would not be satisfied, to have me only a Monoculus). Have you not made two Alimbecks of my two eyes, through which you have found out the art, to distil my life, and to convert it into clear water. In truth, I should suspect (if my death were any advantage to you, and if it were not the only thing that I cannot obtain) that you exhausted those springs of water, that are within me, only that you might the more easily burn me; and I begin to believe some such thing, since I perceived, that the more humidity my eyes draw from my heart, the more he burns. I cannot think, that my father did make my body of the same clay, that the first man's was composed of; but without doubt, he formed it of a limestone, since the humidity of those tears I shed, hath almost consumed me. But can you believe it, Madam, in what manner it hath consumed me? I dare no longer walk in the streets thus all on fire, for fear the boys should come about me with squibs, for they'll certainly take me for a pasteboard figure, that was got loose from some artificial fireworks; neither dare I show myself in the Country, lest I should be thought to be one of the walking Hermes', that lead people to drowning. In fine, you may easily understand what all this means; 'tis, Madam, that if you do not come back, and that quickly; if you inquire after me at your return, you'll find that I am shut up in the Thuiberies, and that my name is the Fire-beast, which is showed to the people for money; you'll then be much ashamed to have a Salamander for your lover, and be troubled, to see burn in this world, Madam, Your Servant. 6. Letter. Madam, I Have received your magnificent Bracelets, that seemed to me very proud, to wear your characters. You need not fear, after this, that a prisoner, held by the arms, and by the heart, can make an escape from you. I confess, I should have suspected your present, because that there always goes hair and characters into the making up of charms. But you, having so many more noble ways of killing, 'tis not likely I should suspect you of witchcraft; besides, I should be to blame, to withdraw myself from the secrets of your Magic, it being not possible for me to escape my Horoscope, that is agreed with you of my sad dysaster. Add to these considerations, that 'twill be much more for her advantage, if it comes by some supernatural means, and if it be caused by a miracle. I believe, Madam, you think all this is jesting; well then, let us be serious, tell me, in your conscience do you not think, that you have gained a heart at a cheap rate, since it cost you but half a dozen blows? By my faith, if you find any more at that price, I would advise you to take them; for hairs will sooner grow again in the head, than hearts in the breasts. But did you not cunningly choose, to make me a present of hair, to explain to me in Hieroglyphic, the insensibility of your heart? No, I esteem you more generous. But how ill soever you intent, I so confound in my joy every thing that comes from you, that the hands that strike me, or stroke me, are alike welcome, provided they be yours; and the Letter that I send to you, is a proof of it, since it is only to give you thanks, for tying my arms, for drawing me by the hair, and by all this violence, for having made me, Madam, Your Servant. 7. Another Letter. Madam, I Do not only complain of the mischief, that your fair eyes have been pleased to do me; but likewise of a more cruel torment that I suffer, by their absence. You lest in my heart, when I took my leave of you, a tyrant, that under pretence of being your Idea, takes upon her a power over me of life and death; nay she enhaunses tyrannically upon your authority, and goes to this excess of inhumanity, to tear open those wounds, that you had closed up, and to make new ones, in those old ones, that she knows cannot heal. Let me know, I beseech you, when that Astre (that was eclipsed only for my sake) will come and dissipate the clouds of my afflictions. Have you not enough to exercise that constancy, to which you promised victory? Did you not swear to me, when you took your last journey, that all my faults were wiped out, that you would forget them for ever, but me never? O sweet hopes! that are vanished with the air that framed them. Hardly had you ended these deceitful words, shed some perfidious tears, and sent forth artificial sighs, with which your mouth and your eyes belied your heart; but fortifying some cruelty, that yet lay hid in you, you doubled your kindnesses, that you might eternize in my memory, the cruel remembrance of your favours, which I had lost: But you went further, you fled from those places, where the sight of me, would perhaps have been capable, to have moved your pity; and absented yourself from me in my sufferings, as the Kings that abandon those places, where criminals are punished, for fear of being importuned for a pardon. But to what purpose so many precautions, Madam? you know too well the power of your wounds, to be afraid of their cure. The Physic that hath spoke of all maladies, hath said nothing of that which destroys me, because she spoke of them, as being able to deal with them; but that which the love of you hath begot in me, is incurable; for how is it possible to live, when one hath given away one's heart, which is the cause of life? Return it me then, or send me yours in the place of my own; otherwise in the condition I now am, to end my life by a bloody and cruel death, you'll add to the conquest of your eyes, too sad a destiny, if the Victim that I immolate to you, be found without a heart. I conjure you then once more, since you need not have two hearts to live, to send me yours, that offering to you a complete sacrifice, she may make both your love and your fortune propitious to you, and hinder me from making an ill end, although I should tell you improperly at the bottom of my Letter, that I am, and ever will be, even in the other world, Madam, Your faithful Slave. 8. Letter. Madam, YOu complain, that you discovered my passion, from the very first moment, that fortune obliged me with the sight of you. But you, to whom your glass (when he shows you your image,) tells, that the Sun hath all his light and ardour, the very first instant that he appears, What reason have you to complain of a thing, that neither you nor I could hinder? 'Tis as essential to the splendour of the rays of your beauty, to illuminate bodies, as 'tis natural to mine to reflect towards you that light, which you bestow upon me. And as it is in the power of your consuming looks, to kindle a disposed matter; so is it in that of my heart, to be consumed by it. Do not complain then, Madam, unjustly, of this admirable concatenation, by which Nature hath joined, by a common society, the effects to their causes. This unexpected foresight is a continuance of the order, that composes the harmony of the Universe; and 'twas a necessity, known at the birth day of the creation of the world, that I should see you, know you, and love you. But there being no cause, but tends to some end; the very time that we are to unite ourselves, is now come. 'Twere in vain for you and I to attempt against our destinies. But admire the course of this predestination, 'twas a fishing that I met you; the lines that you (looking upon me) cast, did they not declare to you my being taken? And although I had scaped your lines, could I have saved myself from the baits, hung at the lines of that fair Letter, that you did me the honour to send me, some days after; every obliging word of which, was composed of divers characters, only to charm me; and I received it with such respects, as I would express, by saying, that I adored it, if I were capable of adoring any thing besides yourself. At leastwise, I gave it many tender kisses; and laying my lips to your dear Letter, I fancied, that I kissed your excellent wit, that framed it. My eyes took a pleasure, in often passing over those characters, that your pen had made; and grown insolent by their good fortune, they attracted my whole soul to them, and by fixed looks, stuck there, to unite itself with those draughts of yours. Could you have thought, Madam, that with one sheet of paper, I could have made so great a fire, 'twill never go out, though till my days are extinguished; for if my soul and my passion parts themselves in two sighs at my death, that of my love will go out last. I'll conjure lafoy Gonie, the faithfullest of my friends, to repeat to me that beloved Letter; and when he shall be come to the end of it, where you humble yourself so much, as to say, that you are my servant; I'll cry out, till death, Ah! that cannot possibly be, for I myself have always been, Madam, Your most faithful, most humble, and most obedient Slave, De Bergerac. FINIS. The Errors of the Press. Her her, for him his, in the 23 line of the 8 page. Had, for have, in the 25 line of the 9 page. Little, for brittle and, in the 3 line of the 12 page. Hircius, for him, in the 17 line of the 14 page. Roch, for Poch, in the 5 line of the 16 page. He, for she, in the 10 line of the 16 page. He, for she, in the 12 line of the 16 page. He for she, in the 19 line of the 16 page. Bottom, for fathom, in the 2 line of the 17 page. For, for to, in the 11 line of the 18 page. Walls, for valleys, in the last line of the 18 page. Hostess, for Hospital, in the 26 line of the 23 page. Moss, for Mess, in the 13 line of the 24 page. Matter, for Muster, in the 17 line of the 26 page. Set, for sat, in the 4 line of the 29 page. Seems. for Lances, in the 4 line of the 29 page. To show his innocency in, line 21. page 30. O gods, for O good, in the 13 line of the 36 page. Leave out with, in the 5 line of the 39 page. They, for he, in the 8 line of the 47 page. Leave out of, in the 11 line of the 52 page. Tambocineuxes, for Jambonomeuxes, in the last line of the 82 page. Do, for die, in the 6 line of the 84 page. Makes, for spakes, in the 25 line of the 84 page. After, for often, in the 15 line of the 85 page. There, for them, in the 16 line of the 88 page. Cushonet, for Cushomet, in the 28 line of the 88 page. Lately, for safely, in the 27 line of the 91 page. Cannot, for Can, in the 32 line of the 93 page. Read, for made, in the 3 line of the 96 page. Truths, for troubles, in the 27 line of the 98 page. No, for that the, in the 27 line of the 105 page. Roost,, for roof, in the 3 line of the 111 page. She, for he, in the 23 line of the 111 page. Others, for other. in the 20 line of the 139 page. That a Republic, for, the particulars of a Republic, in the 23 line of the 145 page. Read, for head, in the 17 line of the 157 page.