Put L too away,
What is't then, I pray,
Why, an Ass, and you are the same.
[4.] A Nobleman having a mind to be merry, sent for his Chaplain, and told him, That, unless he could resolve him these three Questions, he should be discarded, and turn'd out of his Service; but if he cou'd, he shou'd have Thirty Guinneys, and the best Horse in his Stable; So he propos'd the Questions to him, which were these; First, what compass the World was about? Secondly, How deep the Sea was? And Thirdly, What he thought? The Poor Chaplain was in a peck of Troubles, and did not know how to answer them, or what to say, thinking them very unreasonable Questions; so that all he could do was to desire a little time to consider upon them, which the Earl granted. So he going along the Fields one day very melancholy, a Cobler of the Town, a Merry Fellow (who was very like the Chaplain, both in Physiognomy and Stature) met him, and ask'd him the reason of his sadness; which with some Reluctancy he told him: O Sir, says the Cobler, don't be dejected, chear up; I've thought of a device to save your Place, and get you the Money and Horse too; but you shall give me Ten Guinneys for my pains. So he agreed to't; and it was thus: Says he, I'll put on your Cloaths, and go to My Lord, and answer his Questions. Accordingly he went, and when he came before him, he answer'd him thus: To the first Question, What Compass the World was about? He answered, It was four and twenty hours Journey; and if a man could keep pace with the Sun, he could easily go it in that time. To the Second, How deep the Sea was? He answer'd Only a stone's throw; for cast it into the deepest place of it, and in time it will come to the bottom. To the third (which I fancy your Lordship thinks the most difficult to be resolv'd, but is indeed the easiest) which is; What your Lordship thinks? I answer, That you think I am your Chaplain, when as indeed I am but the Cobler of Gloucester. The Nobleman was so pleas'd with his witty Answers, that he perform'd his Promise to his Chaplain, and gave the Cobler Ten Guinneys for his Ingenuity.
[51.]An aged Gentleman sore sick did lie,
Expecting life, that could not chuse but die:
His Foole came to him, and intreated thus.
Good Maister, ere you goe away from us,
Bestowe on Jacke (that oft hath made you laffe)
Against he waxeth old, your Walking-Staffe,—