As we were crossing the stream, _Charon_ told us how an _Irish_ captain would have trick’d him. He came strutting down to the river-side, says he, as fine as a prince, in a long scarlet cloak, all bedaub’d with silver lace, but had not a penny about him. _Dear joy_, crys he to me, _I came away in a little haste from the other world, and left my breeches behind me, but I’ll make thee amends by Chreest and St._ Patrick, _for I’ll refresh thy antient nostrils with some of_ Hippolito_’s best snuff, which cost me a week ago, a crown an ounce_. I told the _Hibernian_, that old birds were not to be taken with chaff, nor _Charon_ to be banter’d out of his due with a little dust of sot-weed; and giving him a reprimand with my stretcher over the noddle, bid him go, like a coxcomb as he was, about his business. The wretch santer’d about the banks for a month, but at last, pretended to be a _Frenchman_, got over gratis this summer, among the duke of _Orlean_’s retinue. But what was the most surprizing piece of news I ever heard, _Charon_ assured us, upon his veracity, that the late king of _Spain_ was forc’d to lie by full a fortnight, for want of money to carry him over; for cardinal _Portocarero_ had been so busy in forging his will, that he had forgot to leave the poor monarch a farthing in his pocket; and that at last, one of his own grandees, coming by that way, was so complaisant as to defray his prince’s passage; and well he might, says our surly ferryman, for in five years time he had cheated him of two millions.