The works of Mr. Thomas Brown, serious and comical : in prose and verse, with his remains in four volumes compleat; vol. IIBrown, Thomas
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The works of Mr. Thomas Brown, serious and comical : in prose and verse, with his remains in four volumes compleat; vol. II
Brown, Thomas
English wit and humor -- Early works to 1800; Erotic literature -- Early works to 1800; Latin literature -- Translations into English
As for my master king _James_, I dealt honestly by him as long as he
continued my customer; but truly when his credit was sunk, and he was
forc’d to take sanctuary in a foreign country, my conscience told me
’twas the safest way, even to serve my prince as I had done you my
master; for indeed, I could not reasonably think; providence flung so
many lucky hits in a man’s way for him to make no use of; besides, what
signifies cozening a king of a trifling sum of fourscore thousand pound,
when he was going into a country where every body knew he would be well
provided for? I consider’d it would do me more kindness by half; and
tho’ some of his friends blam’d me, yet I thought myself an honester man
by much, than those who stripp’d him of his sovereignty; for if it was a
sin to cheat him at all, then those who cheated him most were doubtless
the most wicked; and to deal with you like an old friend, without
dissimulation, as long as I can imagine there’s a man upon earth more
sinful than myself I have a conscience that can fling nothing in my
face, but what I can withstand boldly without blushing.
You seem to highly reflect upon me for keeping two domestick
conveniences publickly in my family, as if a man of my grandeur should
abridge himself of those pleasures which every apprentice-boy has the
enjoyment of between the mistress and the maid, without stirring over
the threshold; and sure an Alderman in the city, a grave magistrate, a
man worth three hundred thousand pounds, need not be either afraid or
asham’d of being suspected guilty of that little sniveling sin practis’d
daily in every citizen’s house, from the very beds in the garret, down
to the stools in the kitchen. Why, at that rate you would muzzle ones
appetite, a man had better by half be a presbyterian parson, and have
two or three pair of holy sisters to smuggle over every week, than to be
an alderman of the city of _London_, and have his carnal inclinations
priest-ridden with a curb-bridle.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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