BENEFICE-HUNTING.
Pamphagus, Codes.
Pa. | Either my sight fails me, or this is my old pot-companion Codes. |
Co. | No, no, your eyes don't deceive you at all, you see a companion that is yours heartily. |
Pa. | Nobody ever thought to have seen you again, you have been gone so many years, and nobody knew what was become of you. But whence come you from? Prithee, tell me. |
Co. | From the Antipodes. |
Pa. | Nay, but I believe you are come from the Fortunate Islands. |
Co. | I am glad you know your old companion, I was afraid I should come home as Ulysses did. |
Pa. | Why, pray? After what manner did he come home? |
Co. | His own wife did not know him; only his dog, being grown very old, acknowledged his master, by wagging his tail. |
Pa. | How many years was he from home? |
Co. | Twenty. |
Pa. | You have been absent more than twenty years, and yet I knew your face again. But who tells that story of Ulysses? |
Co. | Homer. |
Pa. | He? They say he is the father of all fabulous stories. It may be his wife had gotten herself a gallant in the meantime, and therefore did not know her own Ulysses. |
Co. | No, nothing of that; she was one of the chastest women in the world. But Pallas had made Ulysses look old, that he might not be known. |
Pa. | How came he to be known at last? |
Co. | By a little wart that he had upon one of his toes. His nurse, who was now a very old woman, took notice of that as she was washing his feet. |
Pa. | A curious old hag. Well, then, do you wonder that I know you that has so remarkable a nose? |
Co. | I am not at all sorry for this nose. |
Pa. | No, nor have you any occasion, to be sorry for having a thing that is fit for so many uses. |
Co. | For what uses? |
Pa. | First of all, it will serve instead of an extinguisher to put out candles. |
Co. | Go on. |
Pa. | Again, if you want to draw anything out of a deep pit, it will serve instead of an elephant's trunk. |
Co. | Oh wonderful! |
Pa. | If your hands be employed it will serve instead of a pin. |
Co. | Is it good for anything else? |
Pa. | If you have no bellows it will serve to blow the fire. |
Co. | This is very pretty; have you any more of it? |
Pa. | If the light offends you when you are writing, it will serve for an umbrella. |
Co. | Ha, ha, ha! Have you anything more to say? |
Pa. | In a sea fight it will serve for a grappling-hook. |
Co. | What will it serve for in a land fight? |
Pa. | Instead of a shield. |
Co. | And what else? |
Pa. | It will serve for a wedge to cleave wood withal. |
Co. | Well said. |
Pa. | If you act the part of a herald, it will be for a trumpet; if you sound an alarm, a horn; if you dig, a spade; if you reap, a sickle; if you go to sea, an anchor; in the kitchen it will serve for a flesh-hook; and in fishing, a fish-hook. |
Co. | I am a happy fellow indeed, I did not know I carried about me a piece of household-stuff that would serve for so many uses. But in the meantime, in what corner of the earth have you hid yourself all this while? |
Pa. | In Home. |
Co. | But is it possible that in so public a place nobody should know you were alive? |
Pa. | Good men are nowhere in the world so much incognito as there, so that in the brightest day you shall scarce see one in a thronged market. |
Co. | Well, but then you are come home laden with benefices. |
Pa. | Indeed I hunted after them diligently, but I had no success; for the way of fishing there is according to the proverb, with a golden hook. |
Co. | That is a foolish way of fishing. |
Pa. | No matter for that, some folks find it a very good way. |
Co. | Are they not the greatest fools in nature that change gold for lead? |
Pa. | But don't you know that there are veins of gold in holy lead? |
Co. | What, then, are you come back nothing but a Pamphagus? |
Pa. | No. |
Co. | What then, pray? |
Pa. | A ravenous wolf. |
Co. | But they make a better voyage of it that return laden with budgets full of benefices. Why had you rather have a benefice than a wife? |
Pa. | Because I love to live at ease. I love to live a pleasant life. |
Co. | But in my opinion they live the most pleasant life that have at home a pretty girl, that they may embrace as often as they have a mind to it. |
Pa. | And you may add this to it, sometimes when they have no mind to it. I love a continual pleasure; he that marries a wife is happy for a month, but he that gets a fat benefice lives merrily all his life. |
Co. | But solitude is so melancholy a life, that Adam in Paradise could not have lived happily unless God had given him an Eve. |
Pa. | He will never need to want an Eve that has gotten a good benefice. |
Co. | But that pleasure cannot really be called pleasure that carries an ill name and bad conscience with it. |
Pa. | You say true, and therefore I design to divert the tediousness of solitude by a conversation with books. |
Co. | They are the pleasantest companions in the world. But do you intend to return to your fishing again? |
Pa. | Yes, I would if I could get a fresh bait. |
Co. | Would you have a golden one or a silver one? |
Pa. | Either of them. |
Co. | Be of good cheer, your father will supply you. |
Pa. | He will part with nothing; and especially he will not trust me again, when he comes to understand I have spent what I had to no purpose. |
Co. | That is the chance of the dice. |
Pa. | But he don't like those dice. |
Co. | If he shall absolutely deny you, I will shew you where you may have as much as you please. |
Pa. | You tell me good news indeed; come shew it me, my heart leaps for joy. |
Co. | It is here hard by. |
Pa. | Why, have you gotten a treasure? |
Co. | If I had I would have it for myself, not for you. |
Pa. | If I could but get together one hundred ducats I should be in hopes again. |
Co. | I will shew you where you may have 100,000. |
Pa. | Prithee, put me out of my pain then, and do not teaze me to death. Tell me where I may have it. |
Co. | From the Asse Budæi; there you may find a great many ten thousands, whether you would have it gold or silver. |
Pa. | Go and be hanged with your banter; I will pay you what I owe you out of that bank. |
Co. | Ay, so you shall, but it shall be what I lend you out of it. |
Pa. | I know your waggish tricks well enough. |
Co. | I am not to be compared to you for that. |
Pa. | Nay, you are the veriest wag in nature; you fire nothing but waggery; you make a jest of a serious matter; in this affair it is a far easier matter to tease me than it is to please me; the matter is of too great a consequence to be made a jest of; if you were in my case you would not be so gamesome; you make a mere game of me; you game and banter me; you joke upon me in a thing that is not a joking matter. |
Co. | I don't jeer you, I speak what I think; indeed I do not laugh, I speak my mind, I speak seriously, I speak from my heart; I speak sincerely, I speak the truth. |
Pa. | So may your cap stand always upon your head, as you speak sincerely. But do I stand loitering here, and make no haste home to see how all things go there? |
Co. | You will find a great many things new. |
Pa. | I believe I shall; but I wish I may find all things as I would have them. |
Co. | We may all wish so if we will, but never anybody found it so yet. |
Pa. | Our rambles will do us both this good, that we shall like home the better for time to come. |
Co. | I cannot tell that, for I have seen some that have played the same game over and over again; if once this infection seizes a person he seldom gets rid of it. |