The Colloquies of Erasmus Part 72

Hi. _Away with bad Presages. But why do you think so?_

Le. _b.l.o.o.d.y Iambics are not fit for a Feast._

_Cr._ O brave! I am sure the Muses are amongst us, Verses flow so from us, when we don't think of 'em.

_Si rotatiles trochaeos mavelis, en, accipe: Vilis apparatus heic est, animus est lautissimus._

If you had rather have whirling Trochees, lo, here they are for you: Here is but mean Provision, but I have a liberal Mind.

Although Iambics in old Time were made for Contentions and Quarrels, they were afterwards made to serve any Subject whatsoever. O Melons!

Here you have Melons that grew in my own Garden. These are creeping Lettuces of a very milky Juice, like their Name. What Man in his Wits would not prefer these Delicacies before Brawn, Lampreys, and Moor-Hens?

_Cr._ If a Man may be allow'd to speak Truth at a Poetic Banquet, those you call Lettuces are Beets.

_Hi._ G.o.d forbid.

_Cr._ It is as I tell you. See the Shape of 'em, and besides where is the milky Juice? Where are their soft p.r.i.c.kles?

_Hi._ Truly you make me doubt. Soho, call the Wench. _Margaret_, you Hag, what did you mean to give us Beets instead of Lettuces?

_Ma._ I did it on Purpose.

_Hi._ What do you say, you Witch?

_Ma._ I had a Mind to try among so many Poets if any could know a Lettuce from a Beet. For I know you don't tell me truly who 'twas that discover'd 'em to be Beets.

_Guests._ _Crato_.

_Ma._ I thought it was no Poet who did it.

_Hi._ If ever you serve me so again, I'll call you _Blitea_ instead of _Margarita_.

_Gu._ Ha, ha, ha.

_Ma._ Your calling me will neither make me fatter nor leaner. He calls me by twenty Names in a Day's Time: When he has a Mind to wheedle me, then I'm call'd _Galatea, Euterpe, Calliope, Callirhoe, Melissa, Venus, Minerva_, and what not? When he's out of Humour at any Thing, then presently I'm _Tisiphone_, _Megaera_, _Alecto_, _Medusa_, _Baucis_, and whatsoever comes into his Head in his mad Mood.

_Hi._ Get you gone with your Beets, _Blitea_.

_Ma._ I wonder what you call'd me for.

_Hi._ That you may go whence you came.

_Ma._ 'Tis an old Saying and a true, 'tis an easier Matter to raise the Devil, than 'tis to lay him.

_Gu._ Ha, ha, ha: Very well said. As the Matter is, _Hilary_, you stand in Need of some magic Verse to lay her with.

_Hi._ I have got one ready.

[Greek: Pheugete, kantharides lukos agrios umme diokei.]

Be gone ye Beetles, for the cruel Wolf pursues you.

_Ma._ What says _aesop?_

_Cr._ Have a Care, _Hilary_, she'll hit you a Slap on the Face: This is your laying her with your _Greek_ Verse. A notable Conjurer indeed!

_Hi._ _Crato_, What do you think of this Jade? I could have laid ten great Devils with such a Verse as this.

_Ma._ I don't care a Straw for your _Greek_ Verses.

_Hi._ Well then, I must make use of a magical Spell, or, if that won't do, _Mercury's_ Mace.

_Cr._ My _Margaret_, you know we Poets are a Sort of Enthusiasts, I won't say Mad-Men; prithee let me intreat you to let alone this Contention 'till another Time, and treat us with good Humour at this Supper for my Sake.

_Ma._ What does he trouble me with his Verses for? Often when I am to go to Market he has never a Penny of Money to give me, and yet he's a humming of Verses.

_Cr._ Poets are such Sort of Men. But however, prithee do as I say.

_Ma._ Indeed I will do it for your Sake, because I know you are an honest Gentleman, that never beat your Brain about such Fooleries. I wonder how you came to fall into such Company.

_Cr._ How come you to think so?

_Ma._ Because you have a full Nose, sparkling Eyes, and a plump Body.

Now do but see how he leers and sneers at me.

_Cr._ But prithee, Sweet-Heart, keep your Temper for my Sake.

_Ma._ Well, I will go, and 'tis for your Sake and no Body's else.

_Hi._ Is she gone?

_Ma._ Not so far but she can hear you.

_Mus._ She is in the Kitchen, now, muttering something to herself I can't tell what.

_Cr._ I'll a.s.sure you your Maid is not dumb.

_Hi._ They say a good Maid Servant ought especially to have three Qualifications; to be honest, ugly, and high-spirited, which the Vulgar call evil. An honest Servant won't waste, an ugly one Sweet-Hearts won't woo, and one that is high-spirited will defend her Master's Right; for sometimes there is Occasion for Hands as well as a Tongue. This Maid of mine has two of these Qualifications, she's as ugly as she's surly; as to her Honesty I can't tell what to say to that.

_Cr._ We have heard her Tongue, we were afraid of her Hands upon your Account.

_Hi._ Take some of these Pompions: We have done with the Lettuces. For I know if I should bid her bring any Lettuces, she would bring Thistles.

Here are Melons too, if any Body likes them better. Here are new Figs too just gather'd, as you may see by the Milk in the Stalks. It is customary to drink Water after Figs, lest they clog the Stomach. Here is very cool clear Spring Water that runs out of this Fountain, that is good to mix with Wine.

_Cr._ But I can't tell whether I had best to mix Water with my Wine, or Wine with Water; this Wine seems to me so likely to have been drawn out of the Muses Fountain.

_Hi._ Such Wine as this is good for Poets to sharpen their Wits. You dull Fellows love heavy Liquors.

_Cr._ I wish I was that happy _Cra.s.sus_.