At Breakfaste, William and Rupert were earneste with my Father to let 'em row him to Westminster, which he was disinclined to, as he was for more Speede, and had promised Erasmus an earlie Caste to Lambeth; howbeit, he consented that they should pull us up to Putney in the Evening, and William should have the Stroke-oar. Erasmus sayd, he must thank the Archbishop for his Present of a Horse; "tho' I'm full faine," he observed, "to believe it a Changeling. He is idle and gluttonish, as thin as a Wasp, and as ugly as Sin. Such a Horse, and such a Rider!"
In the Evening Will and Rupert had made 'emselves spruce enow, with Nosegays and Ribbons, and we tooke Water bravelie;—John Harris in the Stern, playing the Recorder. We had the six-oared Barge; and when Rupert Allington was tired of pulling, Mr. Clement tooke his Oar; and when he wearied, John Harris gave over playing the Pipe; but William and Mr. Gunnel never flagged.
Erasmus was full of his Visitt to the Archbishop, who, as usuall, I think, had given him some Money.
"We sate down two hundred to Table," sayth he; "there was Fish, Flesh, and Fowl; but Wareham onlie played with his Knife, and drank noe Wine. He was very cheerfulle and accessible; he knows not what Pride is; and yet, of how much mighte he be proude! What Genius! What Erudition! what Kindnesse and Modesty! From Wareham, who ever departed in Sorrow?"
Landing at Fulham, we had a brave Ramble thro' the Meadows. Erasmus, noting the poor Children a gathering the Dandelion and Milk-thistle for the Herb-market, was avised to speak of forayn Herbes and theire Uses, bothe for Food and Medicine.
"For me," says Father, "there is manie a Plant I entertayn in my Garden and Paddock which the Fastidious woulde caste forthe. I like to teache my Children the Uses of common Things—to know, for Instance, the Uses of the Flowers and Weeds that grow in our Fields and Hedges. Manie a poor Knave's Pottage woulde be improved, if he were skilled in the Properties of the Burdock and Purple Orchis, Lady's-smock, Brook-lime, and Old Man's Pepper. The Roots of Wild Succory and Water Arrow-head mighte agreeablie change his Lenten Diet; and Glasswort afford him a Pickle for his Mouthfulle of Salt-meat. Then, there are Cresses and Wood-sorrel to his Breakfast, and Salep for his hot evening Mess. For his Medicine, there is Herb-twopence, that will cure a hundred Ills; Camomile, to lull a raging Tooth; and the Juice of Buttercup to cleare his Head by sneezing. Vervain cureth Ague; and Crowfoot affords the leaste painfulle of Blisters. St. Anthony's Turnip is an Emetic; Goose-grass sweetens the Blood; Woodruffe is good for the Liver; and Bindweed hath nigh as much Virtue as the forayn Scammony. Pimpernel promoteth Laughter; and Poppy, Sleep: Thyme giveth pleasant Dreams; and an Ashen Branch drives evil Spirits from the Pillow. As for Rosemarie, I lett it run alle over my Garden Walls, not onlie because my Bees love it, but because 'tis the Herb sacred to Remembrance, and, therefore, to Friendship, whence a Sprig of it hath a dumb Language that maketh it the chosen Emblem at our Funeral Wakes, and in our Buriall Grounds. Howbeit, I am a Schoolboy prating in Presence of his Master, for here is John Clement at my Elbow, who is the best Botanist and Herbalist of us all."
—Returning Home, the Youths being warmed with rowing, and in high Spiritts, did entertayn themselves and us with manie Jests and Playings upon Words, some of 'em forced enow, yet provocative of Laughing. Afterwards, Mr. Gunnel proposed Enigmas and curious Questions. Among others, he woulde know which of the famous Women of Greece or Rome we Maidens would resemble. Bess was for Cornelia, Daisy for Clelia, but I for Damo, Daughter of Pythagoras, which William Roper deemed stupid enow, and thoughte I mighte have found as good a Daughter, that had not died a Maid. Sayth Erasmus, with his sweet, inexpressible Smile, "Now I will tell you, Lads and Lasses, what manner of Man I would be, if I were not Erasmus. I woulde step back some few Years of my Life, and be half-way 'twixt thirty and forty; I would be pious and profounde enow for the Church, albeit noe Churchman; I woulde have a blythe, stirring, English Wife, and half-a-dozen merrie Girls and Boys, an English Homestead, neither Hall nor Farm, but betweene both; neare enow to the Citie for Convenience, but away from its Noise. I woulde have a Profession, that gave me some Hours daylie of regular Businesse, that should let Men know my Parts, and court me into Publick Station, for which my Taste made me rather withdrawe. I woulde have such a private Independence, as should enable me to give and lend, rather than beg and borrow. I woulde encourage Mirthe without Buffoonerie, Ease without Negligence; my Habitt and Table shoulde be simple, and for my Looks I woulde be neither tall nor short, fat nor lean, rubicund nor sallow, but of a fayr Skin with blue Eyes, brownish Beard, and a Countenance engaging and attractive, soe that alle of my Companie coulde not choose but love me."
"Why, then, you woulde be Father himselfe," cries Cecy, clasping his Arm in bothe her Hands with a Kind of Rapture; and, indeede, the Portraiture was soe like, we coulde not but smile at the Resemblance.
Arrived at the Landing, Father protested he was wearie with his Ramble; and, his Foot slipping, he wrenched his Ankle, and sate for an Instante on a Barrow, the which one of the Men had left with his Garden-tools, and before he could rise or cry out, William, laughing, rolled him up to the House-door; which, considering Father's Weight, was much for a Stripling to doe. Father sayd the same, and, laying his Hand on Will's Shoulder with Kindnesse, cried, "Bless thee, my Boy, but I woulde not have thee overstrayned like Biton and Cleobis."
