These fools-male were all in the same chamber; and one might perfectly read their humour and distemper in their looks and gestures. Oh! how many a gay lad did I see there in his point band and embroidered vest that had not a whole shirt to his back! How many huffs and highboys that had nothing else in their mouths but the lives and fortunes they’d spend in their sweet ladies’ service! that would yet have run five miles on your errand, to have been treated but at a threepenny ordinary? How many a poor devil that wanted bread, and was yet troubled with the rebellion of the flesh! Some there were that spent much time in setting their perukes, ordering the mustache, and dressing up the very face of Lucifer himself for a beauty: the woman’s privilege, and in truth an encroachment, to their prejudice. There were others that made it their glory to pass for Hectors, sons of Priam, brothers of the blade; and talked of nothing but attacks, combats, reverses, stramazons, stoccados; not considering that a naked weapon is present death to a timorous woman. Some were taking the round of their ladies’ lodgings, at midnight, and went to bed again as wise as they rose. Others fell in love by contagion and merely conversing with the infected. Some again went post from church to chapel, every holy day, to hunt for a mistress; and so turned a day of rest into a day of labour. Ye might see others skipping continually from house to house, like the knight upon a chess-board, without ever catching the (queen or) dame. Some, like crafty beggars, made their case worse than ’twas: and others, though ’twere ne’er so bad, durst not so much as open their mouths. Really it grieved me for the poor mutes, and I wished with all my heart their mistresses had been witches, that they might have known their meaning by their mumping; but they were lost to all counsel, so that there was no advising them. There was another sort of elevated, and conceited lovers; and these forsooth were not to be satisfied without the seven liberal sciences, and the four cardinal virtues, in the shape of a woman; and their case was desperate. The next I observed were a generation of modest fools, that passed under the notion of people diffident of themselves. They were generally men of good understanding, but for the most part younger brothers, of low fortunes, and such as for want of wherewithal to go to the price of higher amours, were fain to take up with ordinary stuff, that brought them nothing in the end, but beggary and repentance. The husbands, I perceived, were horribly furious, although in manacles and shackles. Some of them left their own wives, and fell upon their neighbours’. Others, to keep the good women in awe and obedience, would be taking upon them, and playing the tyrants, but upon the upshot they found their mistake, and that though they came on as fierce as lions, they went off as tame as muttons. Some were making friendships with their wives’ she-cousins, and agreeing upon a cross-gossiping whoever should have the first child.
The widowers, that had bit of the bridle, passed from place to place, where they stayed more or less, according to their entertainment, and so were in effect, as good as married; for as long, or as little a while as themselves pleased. These lived single, and spent their time in visiting, first one friend, then another. Here they fell in love; there they kindled a jealousy, which they contracted themselves in one place, and cured it in another. But the miracle was, that they all knew, and confessed themselves a company of mad fools, and yet continued so. Those that had skill in music, and could either sing or fiddle, made use of their gifts, to put the silly wenches that were but half moped before, directly out of their wits. They that were poetical were perpetually hammering upon the subjects of cruelty and disappointment. One tells his good fortune to another, that requites him with the story of his bad. They that had set their hearts upon girls were beating the streets all day, to find what avenues to a lady’s lodgings at night. Some were tampering and caressing the chamber-maid, as the ready way to the mistress. Others chose rather to put it to the push, and attempt the lady herself. Some were examining their pockets and taking a view of their furniture, which consisted much in love-letters, delicately sealed up with perfumed wax, upon raw silk; and a thousand pretty devices within; all wrapt up in riddle, and cipher. Abundance of hair bracelets, lockets, pomanders, knots of riband, and the like. There were others, that were called the husband’s friends, who were ready upon all occasions to do this, and to do that kindness for the husband. Their purse, credit, coach and horses, were all at his service; and in the meantime, who but they to gallant the wife? To the park, the gardens, a treat, or a comedy, where forty to one, by the greatest good luck in the world, they stumble upon an aunt, an old housekeeper of the family, or some such reverend goer-between that’s a well-willer to the mathematics; she takes the hint, performs the good office, and the work is done.
Now there were two sorts of fools for the widows: the one was beloved, and the other not. The latter were content to be a kind of voluntary slaves, for the compassing their ends; but the other were the happier, for they were ever at perfect liberty to do their pleasure, unless some friend or child of the house perchance came in, in the mischievous nick, and then in case of a little colour more than ordinary, or a tumbled handkercher: ’twas but changing the scene, and struggling for a paper of verses, or some such business to keep all in countenance. Some made their assaults both with love and money, and they seldom failed, for they came doubly armed; and your Spanish pistols are a sort of battery hardly to be resisted.
I came now to reflect upon what I had seen, and as I was walking (in that meditation) toward another lodging, I found myself (ere I was aware) in the first court again; where I entered, and in it I observed new wonders: I saw that the number of the mad fools increased every moment; although time (I perceived) did all that was possible to recover them. There was Jealousy tormenting even those that were most confident of the faith of what they loved. There was Memory rubbing of old sores. There was Understanding, locked up in a dark cellar; and Reason with both her eyes out. I made a little pause, the better to observe these varieties and disguises. And when I had looked myself a-weary, I turned about and spied a door; but so narrow that it was hardly passable; and yet strait as it was, divers there were that ingratitude and infidelity had set at liberty, and made a shift to get through. Upon which opportunity of returning, I made what haste I could to be one of the first at the door, and in that instant, my man drew the curtain of my bed, and told me the morning was far spent. Whereupon I waked, and recollecting myself, found all was but a dream. The very fancy however of having spent so much time in the company of fools and madmen, gave me some disorder, but with this comfort, that both sleeping and waking, I had experimented passionate love to be nothing else than a mere frenzy and folly.
THE END OF THE FOURTH VISION
THE FIFTH VISION OF THE WORLD
It is utterly impossible for anything in this world to fix our appetites and desires; but they are still flitting, and restless like pilgrims; delighted and nourished with variety: which shows how much we are mistaken in the value and quality of the things we covet. And hence it is, that what we pursue with the greatest delight and passion imaginable, yields us nothing but satiety and repentance in the possession; yet such is the power of these appetites of ours that when they call and command, we follow and obey; though we find in the end that what we took for a beauty, upon the chase proves but a carcass in the quarry; and we are sick on’t as soon as we have it. Now the world, that knows our palate and inclination, never fails to feed the humour, and to flatter and entertain us with all sorts of change and novelty, as the most certain method of gaining upon our affections.
One would have thought that these considerations might have put sober thoughts and resolutions in my head, but it was my fate to be taken off, in the very middle of my morality and speculations, and carried away from myself by vanity and weakness into the wide world, where I was for a certain time, not much unsatisfied with my condition. As I passed from one place to another, several that saw me (I perceived) did but make sport with me: for the further I went, the more I was at a loss in that labyrinth of delusions. One while I was in with the sword-men and bravoes; up to the ears in challenges, and quarrels; and never without an arm in a scarf, or a broken head. Another fit; I was never well, but at the Fleece Tavern, or Bear at bridge-foot, stuffing my guts with food and tipple, till the hoops were ready to burst. Beside twenty other entertainments that I found, every jot as extravagant as these, which to my great trouble and admiration left me not so much as one moment of repose.
As I was in one of my unquiet and pensive moods, somebody called after me, and plucked me by the cloak, which proved to be a person of a venerable age; his clothes miserably poor and tattered; and his face, just as if he had been trampled upon in the streets, which did not yet hinder but that he had still the air and appearance of one that deserved much honour and respect. “Good father,” said I to him, “why should you envy me my enjoyments? Pray’e let me alone, and do not trouble yourself with me or my doings. You’re past the pleasure of life yourself, and can’t endure to see other people merry, that have the world before them. Consider of it; you are now upon the point of leaving the world, and I am but newly come into’t, but ’tis the trick of all old men to be carping at the actions of their juniors.” “Son,” said the old man, smiling, “I shall neither hinder nor envy thy delights, but in pure pity I would fain reclaim thee. Dost thou know the price of a day an hour or a minute? Didst ever examine the value of time? If thou hadst, thou wouldst employ it better; and not cast away so many blessed opportunities upon trifles; and so easily, and insensibly, part with so inestimable a treasure. What’s become of thy past hours? have they made thee a promise to come back again at a call, when thou hast need of them? Or, canst thou show me which way they went? No, no; they are gone without recovery; and in their flight, methinks, Time seems to turn his head, and laugh over his shoulder in derision of those that made no better use of him, when they had him. Dost thou not know that all the minutes of our life are but as so many links of a chain that has death at the end on’t? and every moment brings thee nearer thy expected end, which perchance, while the word is speaking, may be at thy very door; and doubtless at thy rate of living, it will be upon thee before thou art aware. How stupid is he that dies while he lives, for fear of dying! How wicked is he that lives, as if he should never die; and only fears death when he comes to feel it! which is too late for comfort, either to body or soul: and he is certainly none of the wisest that spends all his days in lewdness and debauchery, without considering that of his whole life any minute might have been his last.”
“My good father,” said I, “I am beholding to you for your excellent discourses, for they have delivered me out of the power of a thousand frivolous and vain affections, that had taken possession of me. But who are you, I pray’ee? And what is your business here?” “My poverty and these rags,” quoth he, “are enough to tell ye that I am an honest man, a friend to truth, and one that will not be mealy-mouthed, when he may speak it to purpose. Some call me the plain-dealer; others, the undeceiver-general. You see me all in tatters, wounds, scars, bruises. And what is all this but the requital the world gives me for my good counsel and kind visits? And yet after all this endeavour to get shut of me they call themselves my friends, though they curse me to the pit of hell, as soon as ever I come near them; and had rather be hanged than spend one quarter of an hour in my company. If thou hast a mind to see the world I talk of, come along with me, and I’ll carry thee into a place where thou shalt have a full prospect of it, and without any inconvenience see all that’s in’t, or in the people that dwell in’t, and look it through and through.” “What’s the name of this place?” quoth I. “It is called,” said he, “the Hypocrites’ Walk; and it crosses the world from one Pole to th’ other. It is large, and populous; for I believe there’s not any man alive but has either a house or a chamber in’t. Some live in’t for altogether; others take it only in passage: for there are hypocrites of several sorts; but all mortals have, more or less, a tang of the leaven. That fellow there in the corner came but t’other day from the plow tail, and would now fain be a gentleman. But had not he better pay his debts, and walk alone, than break his promises to keep a lackey? There’s another rascal that would fain be a lord, and would venture a voyage to Venice for the title, but that he’s better at building castles in the air than upon the water. In the meantime he puts on a nobleman’s face and garb; he swears and drinks like a lord, and keeps his hounds and whores, which ’tis feared in the end will devour their master. Mark now that piece of gravity and form; he walks, ye see, as if he moved by clock-work; his words are few and low; he makes all his answers by a shrug or a nod. This is the hypocrite of a Minister of State, who with all his counterfeit of wisdom is one of the veriest noddies in nature.