The next person that we met with as we were rambling about, was Harry Care, the whiggish pamphleteer, who was stuff’d all over with papers as thick as a buttock of beef with parsley, and coming near us, he ask’d how long we had been in? Sir, said I, we are both but lately come from the other world: pray gentlemen, says he, can you tell me how my old friend Sir Roger l’Estrange does, and whether you hear any thing of his coming into these parts, for I am at a great loss for some body to exercise my talent with? I left him very well, said I, but when he takes leave of the upper world, whether he goes up hill or down hill to eternity I can’t inform you. Sir, says he, your humble servant; and away he troop’d and left us without further impertinence.
As we were passing by the door of a little brandy-shop, who should be sitting upon an old worm-eaten bench, but Sam Scott the Fiddle-seller, and Will. Elder the graver, each with a huge Dutch pipe of infernal mundungus in their mouths smoaking for two penny-worth of anniseed-water. Sam. Scott had one while got the start of him, which Will Elder perceiving, exercised his lungs so very strenuously, that he overtook him at the last whiff, which they discharg’d with such remarkable exactness, that none of the standers by could undertake to decide the wager: when their pipes were out, we saluted one another with abundance of friendship, and Sam. Scott having an ascendency over the house, invited us to take part of a bowl of punch, and just as we were stepping in, who should come by but O——n P——ce that dy’d drunk at the Dog-tavern in the company of my friend Weden: mighty joyful we were to meet thus fortunately together; and to crown the happy juncture with an hour’s mirth, we stept into the little conveniency, every soul seating himself upon an empty rundlet like a godson of Bacchus, in order to receive the promis’d blessing: by that time we had every one ramm’d a full charge of sot-weed into our infernal guns, in order to fumify our immortalities, the scull of Goliah was brought in for a punch-bowl fill’d with such incomparable Heliconian juice, that six drops of it would make a man a better poet than either Shakespear or Ben. Johnson: by that time a cup or two were gone about to Pluto and my lady Proserpine, we began to fall into a merry inquisition about one another’s damnation: prithee Sam. Scott, said I, what the devil were you damn’d for? why, I’ll tell you, says Sam. I was found guilty of a couple of indictments, one was for consuming 975 papers of tobacco in six months, without any assistance, to the poisoning of many a ptisicky citizen about Temple-bar; and the other was smoaking my dog to death without any provocation. Come, Bob Weeden, said I ’tis your turn next, let us go round with it, prithee what charge did the hellish informers bring against you? To tell you the truth, says he, they prov’d me guilty of two great crimes too, one was for dealing by my friends very knavishly: and the other was for living by my wits very foolishly. Come, captain Dawson, says the company, what sort of conviction are you under? as for my part, gentlemen, said he, the chief thing that condemn’d me, was the sin of forgetfulness; ’twas only for bilking my lodging, and being so careless to leave my perriwig-come behind me. Well, neighbour P——ce, said I, what was it brought you into these territories? ’twas for living like a rake, says he, without money, and dying drunk in a tavern with twelve shillings in my pocket. Will. Elder being the last, we summ’d up our enquiry with his confession; truly says he, mine was a very great fault I must acknowledge, no less than the damnable sin of omission: you must know, gentlemen, the chief of my business was to grave the Lord’s-Prayer within the compass of a silver penny; but to tell you the truth, I never thought of it but when I was at work, since my eyes were open, and ’tis chiefly for that neglect I suffer this confinement.
Well, says Bob Weeden, for my part, now I have got a bowl of Punch before me, and such good company, I would not give a nitt out of my shirt-collar to return back to my old quarters upon earth, for that was but a life full of extreams, and this can be no other; for there I was always very drunk or very drowsy, surfeited or very hungry, generally very poor and very pocky, afraid to walk the streets, and no money to keep me within doors; thought very witty by fools, and by wise men very wicked, was every body’s jester that wanted wit, and a blockhead to all those that had it; dunn’d every where, and trusted no where; car’d not for any body, and belov’d by no body: and what station on this side death can be worse than such a miserable life? What signifies a little hot weather, when a man’s assur’d it can’t endanger his health; nothing can be subject to sickness but what is liable to death, and that period, immortality is free from. Come then said I, if it be so, here’s a bumper in memory of the cellar at the Still, and honest Jack Ni——ls the harper, count C——ni——s, captain Wa-k-er, and all the jolly lads of our loving acquaintance, with a huzza. In this manner we spent the evening as merrily as so many tars under the tropicks, over their forfeitures, till at last we had the devil to pay with empty pockets: but Sam Scott, who was the undertaker of the treat, having made his coffin into a bass-viol, gave my landlady a lesson, two or three kisses, and a few fair words, and prevailed with her to trust him for the reckoning; so being all saluted with you’re welcome gentlemen, we all arose like a company of coopers from our tubs and our rundlets, and went away hooping for more liquor.
These are all the remarkable passages that at present I think worth transmitting to you: so, hoping you will requite me after the like manner with something that may be entertaining to a gentleman under my warm circumstances; if it be an essay upon ice, or a treatise of the sovereign efficacy of rock-water, it will be a very cooling satisfaction to your parboil’d friend,
Mr. Henry W——’s Answer to Bully Dawson.
Noble Captain and Commander in Chief of all the Cowards in Christendom.
IF being smoak’d-dry’d up a chimney, like a flitch of bacon, thro’ fear of bayliffs, being kick’d thro’ the whole town by every coxcomb, being pox’d by every whore, and dunn’d by every scoundrel, starving, lousing, begging, borrowing, bullying, and all the plagues of human life, would never mend your manners upon earth, I have little reason to believe the strict discipline of hell can make any reformation in so incorrigible a libertine; what reason have I ever given you to affront a poet? A gentleman of the law, a member of an inn of Chancery, an officer in the trained-bands, a man of invention, known courage, worth and integrity; a gentleman of my stature, figure, and parts, that am able to crush a thousand such nitts as thou art under my thumb-nail: ’tis well known to the world, I have fought many duels with success, writ many lampoons with applause, manag’d many causes to my clients satisfaction, told many a pleasant story to the benefit of coffee-houses, flirted out many a jest to the delight of my companions, march’d out often to the credit of St. Clement’s trained-bands, when I have been the only wonder of all the little boys that followed us, who, to the pleasure of my own ears, have cry’d aloud, there goes a tall ensign, there’s a swanking fellow for you between the two blunderbusses; there’s a Goliah, says the men; there’s a strong-back’d Sampson, says the women: And shall I, because I have been guilty of two or three little slips, which no man is exempt from, be put in mind of ’em, by such an arrogant crackfart as thou art: I tell thee, bully, if thou wer’t but to be found upon earth, I would grind thee in a paper-mill for thy insolence, till I had made bumfodder of thee: but however, since charity obliges every good christian to forgive a man when he is dead, I shall pass by your affront, and take no more notice of it for the future; but upon the word of a man of honour, had you been living, I would no more have forgiven you, than I would have gone one day without a dinner if I had but one book in my library; therefore all things shall be forgotten, tho’ you have deserv’d the contrary. And since you have obliged me with a short journal of your transactions on the other side Styx, I think myself oblig’d in honour to make a return of your civility after the like manner, for the world knows me to be a man of a forgiving temper, and I scorn by bearing malice, or studying revenge, to forfeit my character.
I happen’d the other night in company with some men of honour, brave fellows, who were a little nice in their conversation, as well as their wine, that try’d every word that was spoke by the touch-stone of good manners, and one of them happening to say he was a lieutenant on board one of his majesty’s small frigats, when so violent a storm rose upon the coast of Ireland, that a monumental sea washing over the topmast head, by the very pressure of its weight sunk the vessel to the bottom of the ocean, which gave such a prodigious knock against the sand with her keel, that the very rebound, being a tight ship, sent her up again to the surface, without damage; and that by a watch of Tompion’s, which he had in his pocket, they were three quarters of an hour and some odd minutes in this dangerous expedition, that is, in going down and coming up again. Lord Sir, says I, how did you breathe all that while? Zoons, Sir, says he, ’tis an affront to ask a gentleman such a question, and I demand satisfaction? am I bound to tell every blockhead how many times I fetch my breath in three quarters of an hour? Nay, Sir, said I, if you are for that sport, have at you, I’m a man of honour, and dare wait upon you any where; with that he whisper’d me to go down stairs, which we both did accordingly, and drawing at the door, the first pass I made was a home thrust (for I never love to dally in such cases) and I run him thro’ the centre of the fifth jubilee button of his coat, and just scratch’d him in the breast, upon which he dropp’d his sword, believing I had kill’d him; but I taking up the fallen weapon, stepp’d to him and unbrac’d him, found he was more afraid than hurt; and that it was but a small prick that signified nothing: Now, pray Sir, said I, how did you breathe, I think I may make bold to ask you? I’ll tell you, Sir, said he, I took in the water at my mouth, just as a fish does, but having no gills to give it vent, I let it out of my fundament. Upon which answer, I was well satisfy’d, gave him his sword, and we became as great friends as the devil and the earl of Kent.
Another duel I had since that, (for you must know challenges come thick and threefold upon me, like actions upon a breaking shop-keeper) which I hope for its singularity, will prove a little entertaining to you; I happened lately to be invited to a gentleman’s chamber in Grays-Inn, to drink part of a bowl of punch; accordingly I went, and was very plentifully entertained among some other gentlemen of my acquaintance, with a capacious vessel of this most noble Diapente, insomuch, that we were all elevated above the use of our legs, as well as our reason. The gentleman that gave us the entertainment, by the assistance of his man, made a shift to get to bed about twelve at night, but the rest lay up and down in the corners of the room, snoaring like so many gorg’d swine, and battening in their own snivel, which tobacco had drain’d from their moist entrails: I guarded the garrison of good liquor the very last man, and maintain’d my post at the table like a true English hero, till between Bacchus and Morpheus, like the rest of my companions, I was lull’d into a lethargy, and falling forward in my chair upon the table, my forehead happen’d to take the edge of the punch bowl, and turn’d it clear over my head, that it served me for a night-cap, my nose being drowned in the remains of the punch; every time I drew up my breath, up went a spoonful, so that in a little time my nostrils were syring’d as clean as a lady’s honour by noon, that has drank two quarts of Epsom waters for her mornings draught: but after some time being almost suffocated, nature finding itself oppress’d, gave me a jog, and wak’d me out of this drunken slumber. I had not scratch’d my ears, and rubb’d my eyes above three minutes, but awakes another; O lord! says he, that a man should lead this wicked life, to be married but a fortnight and play these tricks, my wife will think I am a whoring already, or plague herself with some damn’d whimsy or other. By this time a third awakes, starts up like a ghost out of a grave, crying, A little drink for the Lord’s sake, for I am