History of English Humour, Vol. 1: With an Introduction upon Ancient HumourL'Estrange, A. G. K. (Alfred Guy Kingan)
Philosophy
History of English Humour, Vol. 1: With an Introduction upon Ancient Humour
L'Estrange, A. G. K. (Alfred Guy Kingan)
English wit and humor -- History and criticism; Wit and humor -- History and criticism
_B._ Yes, when they are found. But, prithee, speak no more of it,
for I am resolved against it.
_A._ What, then, art thou resolv'd for the law? Methinks thou
should'st have too much University learning and wit for that
profession--
_B._ And too much honesty. But I'll spare thee the pains of
guessing, and tell thee in short what my condition is, and what I
design. My portion is all spent--save fifty pounds; and with that I
am resolved for London or some other wealthy place, where
conventicles abound: and as a man of tender conscience and
infinitely dissatisfied with several things in the Church of
England, I will endeavour by some means or other to force myself
into an acquaintance with some of their leading men, and more
especially with some of the most zealous and wonderful women among
them; and this point once gained, I doubt not, but before my stock
is half spent, I shall receive a call to be pastor or holder-forth
in some congregation or other--why dost smile?
_A._ At my friend's design. And I cannot but admire how it came
into thy head. Thy ability to manage such a design I know very
well; but how thou wilt dispense with the knavery of it, I am yet
to learn.
_B._ That's a small matter. As the world goes one must practise a
little knavery, or resolve to leave the world. Dost thou know that
religious cheats are licensed by a law? and shall I live and die
without taking advantage of it? Believe me, friend, Nature has
fitted me pretty well to be one of these godly mountebanks, and a
little art, together with a few months' conversation with that sort
of people will supply all natural defects. Cannot I put on, when I
please, a grave and serious countenance, and with head depending on
one shoulder a little more than on the other, sigh for the
iniquities of the time and corruptions of the Church? Cannot I wipe
mine eyes with the fair pocket-cloth, as if I wept for all your
abominations? Cannot I grieve in spirit as if ready to burst with
grief and compassion. And cannot I likewise, when time serves, and
company is disposed to be kindly affected with it, smile and fleer
as takingly? And what hurt is there in this? Sure I may use my own
face as I please.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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