THE CURATES CONFERENCE; OR A DISCOURSE BETWIXT TWO SCHOLARS; Both of them relating their hard Condition, and consulting which way to mend it.  Interpone tuis interdum gaudia Curis. 
Printed in the Year, 1641.   

THE CURATES CONFERENCE; OR A Discourse betwixt two Scholars; both of them relating their hard Condition, and consulting which way to mend it.  Master Poorest. 
WELL met good Master Needham.  Master Needham. 
I am hearty glad to see you here, how have you canvased the course of the World this many a day good Master Poorest.  Mr. P. 
Good Sir, take the pains as to walk into Paul's Church, and we will confer a little before Sermon begins.  Mr. N. 
With all my heart, for I must not so suddenly leave your company, having not enjoyed your society this long time.  Mr. P. 
Good Sir, tell me, are you resident in Cambridge in the College still; I make no question but the University and your merits have preferred you to some good Fellowship, Parsonage, or the like good fortunes.  Mr. N. 
Alas! good Master Poorest, this is not an age for to bestow Live and preferments freely, 'tis now as 'twas said long ago; Si nihil attuleris ibis Jhomere foras, I tell you, 'tis pity to see how Juniors and Dunces take possession of Colleges, and Scholarships and Fellowships are bought and sold as Horses in Smithfield. But I hope you are grown fat in the Country, for there is not such corruption there as there is among the Muses.  Mr. P. 
I'll deal plainly with you, I stayed in the University of Oxford till I was forced to leave it for want of subsistence. I stood for three or four several Scholarships, and though I was found upon Examination sufficient, yet I do seriously protest, that one time I was prevented by half a Buck and some good Wine, that was sent up to make the Fellows merry: and another time a great Lady's Letter prevailed against all ability of parts, and endowments whatsoever: a third time, the Warden of the College had a poor kinsman, and so he got the major part of the Fellows on his side, for fear, and flattery, that there were no hopes to swim against so great a stream; and so I was forced to retreat into the Country, and there turn first an Usher, and at last was made Curate under a great Prebend, and a double beneficed rich man, where I found promises beyond performances; for my Salary was inferior by much to his Cook, or his Coachman, nay, his Barber had double my stipend; for I was allowed but eight pound per annum, and get my own victuals  and books as I could; and when I told him the means were too little, he said that if I would not, he could have his Cure supplied by another rather for less than what I had; and so I was yoked to a small pittance for the space of twelve years.  Mr. N. 
Is't possible there should be such a concurrence of hard fortunes; It was not otherwise in our University, when I stood for preferment; for at first, a Lawyer's son had the Scholarship, because his Father had done some business for the College at Common Law; and a Doctor of Physics son was preferred in my place to a Fellowship, because his Father had cured the Master's wife of a Timpany: and so finding all hopes gone there, I went home to my friends, and so within a while after I was made a Minister, and served a Cure.  Mr. P. 
Where I pray you, is your Charge?  Mr. N. 
It is in a little poor parish hard by Pinchbacke in Lincolnshire, where the Churchwarden is scarce able to give the Minister more than a Barley Bagpudding to his Sundays dinner. Where are you placed?  Mr. P. 
I serve a Cure hard by Hungerford in Wiltshire; where my allowance is so short, that was it not more for conscience to be in this my calling, I had rather be a Cobbler, and sit and mend old shoes.  Mr. N. 
I protest, I think we Curates are worse dealt withal by the rich double beneficed men, than the Children of Israel were by the Egyptians; for though they made them work hard, yet they allowed them straw and other materials, and good victuals; for they longed after the fleshpots of Egypt, which proves they had them a long time; but we are lorced to work, and yet can get nothing: and yet these should be either Fathers or Brethren to us, but they were enemies to them; and yet they dealt better with them, than these do with us.  Mr. P. 
They deal as bad with us as they do with their flocks. I mean their parishioners, for they starve their souls, and pinch our bodies.  Mr. P. 
I wonder how these Lip-parsons would do, should there be but once a general Consent of all the Curates to forbear to preach or read prayers but for one three weeks, or a month only, how they would be forced to ride for it, and yet all in vain; for how can one person supply two places at one time twenty mile's distance?  Mr. P. 
By my consent they should have for every Benefice, a wife, they should have variety of pleasure, as well as of profit; but withal, I think that course would quickly weary their bodies and purses too.  Mr. N. 
Wives, oh strange, no I would not live to see that day; for if they be so fearfully covetous having but one, I wonder what they would be, having so many.  Mr. P. 
Oh Sir, I tell you, they might by this course in time stand in no need of Curates, nor Clerks neither; for if they could speak as much i'th' Church as at home, they might serve the turn; and they are all Masters of Art, to gather up the small tithes and Easter-booke as well as the Clerk.  Mr. N. 
Nay, now since we are fallen upon it, I'll tell you, our Parson hath a Living in London as well as here, and his wife is so miserably proud, that both Live will scarce suffice to maintain her, in so much that she takes out of the Curates wages, as half of every funeral Sermon, and out of all Burials, Church, Weddings, Christen, etc. she hath half duties, to buy Lace, Pinnes, Gloves, Fans, Blackbags, Satin Petticoats, etc. and towards the maintenance of a puny Servitor to go before her; nay, she pays half towards the maintenance of a Coach, which she either gets from her husband, or else from the Curate, by substracting his allowance at the quarter day; and what more is, she made her Curate in London to enter into bond privately to her husband, to leave the place at half a years warning; or else her husband the Parson of the place, would not have granted him a Licence for the place.  Mr. P. 
Oh strange! is't possible that this old remainder of Popery should be yet upheld by our Clergy, to have such Pope- Joanes to rule the Church. I have heard say, there are three places in which a Woman never should bear any sway; the Buttery, the Kitchen, and the Church; for Women are too covetous by nature to keep a good house; and too foolish to rule a Church.  Mr. N. 
Alas! Master Needham, there is a necessity in this, for I think our Parson hath scarce wit enough to do it; and though he had, yet his wife's tongue would put him out of his wits, if he should not let her have her will.  Mr. P. 
What care I how she punished him, so that she did not entrench upon our Liberties, but alas, she breaks her husband's back, and pinches our bellies.  Mr. N. 
Such a piece of correction hath our Parson too; for I bought but one new cloak in six years, and that money, too was given me in legacy by a good parishioner, and she▪ oh how she envied my felicity, and informed her husband, that I waxed proud; and advised him to get another in my place.  Mr. P. 
Is't possible! and yet our shee-Regent is not unlike her, for she frets fearfully to hear that a worthy Gentleman, who lives in the parish, loves me so much; it galls her to the quick, if the Parishioners out of their loves give me any thing to mend my Salary; oh she thinks all's lost that goes beside her hands!  Mr. N. 
Well, but what does your great Parson with all his wealth? does he keep good hospitality? or is he charitable to the poor, what's his name? Dr. Proud.  Mr. P. 
Alas, nothing less; he wears Cassocks of Damask, and Plush, good Beavers, and silk Stockings; can play well at Tables, or Gleek, can hunt well, and bowl very skilfully; is deeply experienced in Racy Canary, and can relish a Cup of right Claret; and so passeth the time away: what's your great Overseers name?  Mr. N. 
Dr Harding. What goodness lodgeth in his Corpse?  Mr. P. 
Little or none, he is worse than yours; for he never comes to visit his Parish, but Horse-leech-like, he sucks them; he loves preying better than praying, and forces his Parish to humility by oppressing them; he was a main Projector for two shillings nine pence i'th' pound, and looks like a piece of Reezed Bacon ever since the plot failed; he's tormented with the yellow Jaundice, and a wanton Wife, which are like two incarnate devils, will force him to believe a hell before he comes thither.  Mr. N. 
It's no great matter, 'tis but just that he that torments others, should taste the same sauce himself.  Mr. P. 
I'll tell you what his Custom is, when he comes amongst us; he neither prays nor preaches, the one I think he will not, the other I fear he cannot perform.  Mr. N. 
Oh strange! how came he then by such Live?  Mr. P. 
Easily enough, for its money that makes the Parson's Horse to go now adays, for they may say to Parsons, as it hath been of old said of books, Quanti emisti hanc?  Mr. N. 
I'll assure you, I am afraid he is discontent at our Church-government, as well as many other great Parsons; for they force and strictly enjoin their Curates to read all divine Service, which they never do themselves.  Mr. P. 
It's a strange world, that they should flourish and flow in wealth for doing nothing; and the poor Curates that do all, can get nothing; I'll tell you truly, he has not given his Parish a Sermon this three quarters of a year.  Mr. N. 
I wonder how they can answer the Cannon which enjoins them to Preach once a month.  Mr. P. 
Pish, what do you talk to them of the Canons, they who can make new ones, think they may slight the old ones; their Canons are like those Laws, which caught flies, but could not hold hornets or great bees, they are the Curates, who are set to be Canoniers, these endure the heat of the day, of this once or twice a day preaching; alas, they say as the Priests did once to Judas, What's that to us, see you to that.  Mr. N. 
You speak truth, and I will maintain it, that our Doctor differs not much from the Weathercock on the Church Steeple; for as it is placed highest, says nothing, is sounding brass, or some such mettle, and turns as the Wind; So he rules all the Parish, seldom preaches, is void of charity, and turns in his courses every time; for sometimes, he is all for Ceremony, sometimes indifferent, sometimes against them; he hath made a terrible combustion, where and how to place, the Lords Table; It stood in the Church, anon it must be advanced into the Choir, than it must be East and West, and presently after, North and South, covered, uncovered, railed, without, rails, of this fashion, of that, of this wood, of another; may, he himself who was the first that altered it, hath now within this month or two, altered his opinion, and placed it again in the body of the Church: oh sine Weathercock.  Mr. P. 
Oh lamentable, that Curated should be shadows to such empty shells; but our great Doctor, he's of another strain, he cares not much, I think, whither there was any Table or Communion at all; so that he may receive his Tithes, 'tis not so much to him whither it be an Altar or a Table, so that he can get the gold that comes from it, he is so taken with covetousness, that so he may get money, what cares he for either preaching or praying, I tell you, he threatened a poor Widow, to put her into the Court, because (as he was told) she had thirteen eggs in a nest, and yet gave him but one for tithe.  Mr. N. 
Well, our Master is as full of Law, as yours can be of covetousness: he threatened one of his Parishioners for sneezing in prayer time, because he hindered his devotion, nay, he made one jaunt it up a foot into the Arches fourscore miles, because he desired to receive the Communion in his feat, my, I protest, that the Parishioners when they hear he is going away, do usually make him some feast, but it is for joy, that they shall be rid of him till next Summer.  Mr. P. 
What is yours a good able Scholar?  Mr. N. 
Yes, he is Scholar good enough, but he preaches Christ out of contention.  Mr. P. 
That's something yet, but alas our Parson is as bad as one of saunderson's Doctors; for he was made Doctor in Scotland, when our King was there: 〈◊〉 warrant you, that he knows not whither Saint Ambrose was a Greek or a Latin Father.  Mr. N. 
Oh miserable!  Mr. P. 
Nay, he holds Greek for Heathenish, and Hebrew for Jewish Languages, and Latin he says is the Language of Rome, and so holds ignorance best in these: he scarce knows the difference betwixt Annus and Annas, or betwixt, Anus or Anas: I have heard him read Opa. tenebr. for Opera tenebrarum, because they were cut a little short, and said the Printers deserved punishment for curtailing good Latin: I heard him also decline Senex for an old man, genetivo Senecis, and was confident that he was right too.  Mr. N. 
Oh such Doctors had need to pray that Popery may come in again, for than 'twas well when the Priest could read Latin, whither it was right or wrong.  Mr. P. 
And yet he is loaden with no less than a good Parsonage, a great Vicarage, two Prebendships, and another place worth fourscore pound by the year; its impossible sure for him to preach, for telling his moneys.  Mr. N. 
Any of all those places would suffice you, or myself, but alas I Wishers and woulders, you know how the Proverb runs: these optative Moods are merely poor and beggarly.  Mr. P. 
I deal plainly with you, I was offered a place in the City of London, but the name of it frighted me, it was at Saint Peter's i●h Poor, and I thought, I had enough of poverty already, and so I refused it.  Mr. N. 
Just so was I offered to serve a Cure more North by fare than this is, but the name of it startled me, and turned aside all resolution towards it: for it was at a place called Sterveling in Cumberland.  Mr. P. 
Nay, I'll tell you more Master Needham; I thought to have gone up to London, had not our Doctor's Curate there one Master Hand-little told me plainly, that most Curates in London lived upon Citizen's Trenchers, and were it not that they were pitiful and charitable to them, there was no possibility of subsistence; and that of late it went harder with them, than before, for ever since the Parsons would have so enhanced their Revenues, the Citizens have mainly withdrawn their purses, so that now the Curate must live upon his set pittance, or else starve.  Mr. N. 
Well Master Poorest, I do not intent to stay longer in the Country, for I will wait here in Town upon hopes a while.  Mr. P. 
Do as you please, but you will find the old Proverb true, London lick penny.  Mr. N. 
I am resolved upon it, though I go to the threepenny Ordinary; my Reason is, I do hear say, that there are great store of Clerks places about London, that are good allowance for Scholars, some worth two hundred pound and upwards per annum, I know some of the Parish Clerks are worth seven or eight thousand pounds; oh their fees come in sleeping and waking: what think you of the plot?  Mr. P. 
I marry such places are worth the while, but how should one catch them?  Mr. N. 
I'll assure you, 'tis a shame that such mechanics should live in such state as they do, many of them are as greedy of Funerals as Vultures of dead Carcases, and they are most of them in an ill name for exacting most grossly in their fees, hence is it that some of them rule the whole Parish; and Parson, and all, you shall see them upon festival days, as well clothed as the chiefest Citizens; their fingers as full of Rings of Gold, as an old Ale wife that has buried four or five husbands, and their necks set as big with a curious Ruff as any the proudest Dons in Spain, oh what pure rich night caps they wear, and good Beavers; beside all this, they can have their meetings usually in Taverns of three or four pounds a sitting, when as poor Curates must not look into a Red Lettuce, under fear of a general censure.  Mr. P. 
Oh strange! I think it was well if Curates could turn Parish Clerks, if it be as you say, 'tis the better course by fare.  Mr. N. 
Come, come, I tell you, we are bound to look out for ourselves, and I know no more safer course than this, for most of the Clerks have trades to live upon befide: but I hope their Charter will fail, and then others may come into their places.  Mr. P. 
What say you Master Needham, how strong are you, will you go and show me that pretry banqueting house for Curates, I meant the three penny Ordinary, for I can go no higher.  Mr. N. 
I, I with all my heart, for I am almost at the same ebb: but let's hope better; things will not always ride in this Rack.  Mr. P. 
Sir, I conceive plainly, that we Curates are but as the stalking horses to the Clerks, for they get wealth by our labours.  Mr. N. 
Are you advised of that, you would say so indeed should you but see some of their Bills, so much for Burials, so much for the kneel, so much for the grave, for the corpse more if coffined; more yet; if in such a Church, yard; more than that, if in the Church; higher yet, if it be in the Chancel; beyond all these, if buried with Torches, and Sermon, and mourning, with attendance; but it is put upon the highest strain, if it be a stranger. Besides, for Matriages by Banes, or by Licence, for making the Certificate; so for Church, and divers other ways, and nothing to the Curate all this while.  Mr. P. 
Well, I conceive it more than are I did, but now let us leave off Discourse, and fall to our Commons, what a pretty Modicum I have here, sure this Ordinary-keeper has been some Cook or Scullion in a College, how dextrously the fellow plays the Logician, in dividing the meat▪ 'tis an excellent place sure to learn Abstinence by, I promise you, I will visit this house as my stock holds out. It's just one degree above Dining with Duke Humphrey, 'tis as good as a Preservative against surfeits.  Mr. N. 
Oh good Brother, 'tis as fine a refreshment as may be; I hold it wondrous good, for here a man shall be sure to rise from his meat as many others use to sit down to it, with a stomach.  Mr. P. 
I'll tell you one thing, which I had almost forgotten, I was offered the other day to go a Voyage to the East Indies, to be Preacher in a Ship.  Mr. N. 
Excellent well, oh refuse it not; 'tis fare beyond living ashore for ten pound per annum, I know you will find brave worthy Merchants, you cannot want, if you undertake it.  Mr. P. 
I promise you, I had determined to have gone in one of his Majesty's Ships upon our narrow Seas, but if the voyage be so good, I'll away (God willing) next spring.  Mr. N. 
I'll tell you, what I intent if I miss of hopes this way here, to solicit to be a Preacher to a Regiment of Soldiers, if there be any service this next Summer; for we cannot be lower than now we are; I would have given you Master Powest, one pint of Wine, but Ultra posse non est esse, as you know.  Mr. P. 
I am as willing to have done the like to yourself, not having seen you so long since, but my purse denies ability.  Mr. N. 
I must be gone at one of the clock, to meet with a Gentleman of the Inns of Court, well good Brother, God bless us both, and send us better times, and a happy meeting. Farewell.  
FINIS.